The items below are from It Happened Last Night by Earl Wilson in The New York Post. When our friend, AF, was researching some really important stuff online, she found these. We thank her.
Earl Wilson was a syndicated gossip columnist covering Broadway and New York. On the east coast in his time he had the clout of the LA biggies, Hedda and Louella. But, from all reports he was not, like them, feared and loathed. He was instead reputed to be a pretty nice guy. (You can tell that from his writing.) We love the colorful, Runyonesque kind of words he used, like “ringsiding.” Sadly, that kind of colorful, descriptive languatge is gone today, buried in slickness of People and OK.Wilson’s trademarks were his talk about his “BW” (“beautiful wife”) and his sign-off, “That’s Earl, brother.”
It was Earl Wilson who first told the world (well, his column was syndicated across the US) about the first panty-flinging woman at the Copa. The idea, as we know, caught on. Luckily, the throwing of ice cubes did not. (This photo is from a Milwaukee show in 1986.) Here’s that item:
(Wednesday, June 4, 1969) — Speaking of living life, a woman fan of Tom Jones threw her panties at the singing star while he was on the floor at the Copacabana…”
Two days later Wilson did a wrap-up of Tom’s run at the Copa (“shoot deer in the place,” of course, means the club is empty):
(June 6, 1969) Earl Wilson: Napkins Sail After Tom
“It’s ridiculous!” Tom Jones kept saying — and it was.
The Copacabana’ll be able to straighten out its napkin supply tonight after he departs following two unbelievable weeks.
Every night, young, pretty women flung their napkins at the hiptwisting, finger-snapping, 6-foot, 28-year-old Welsh coal miner singer when he mopped his brow, hoping he’d fling the napkins back so they could frame them.
Ringsiding there this morning, I got zinged in the ear by (a) napkin and kissed by a girl who mistook me for Tom (we’re both very handsome).
Several girls insisted that the rugged-looking curling-haired Tom kiss them. Sometimes, guys in the back have flung ice cubes at the girls, causing a sleet storm.
“Last year, in February when I was here, maybe in one day two people knew who I was and said hello to me,” Tom told me. “Now, due to TV: (his ABC Show) “they know…”
And so, instead of “being able to shoot deer in the place,” as the night club saying goes, the Copacabana had crowds in line at 3 p.m., people offering $50 or $100 premium for tables. Tom being taken on and off the floor by a flying wedge, using freight elevators and secret stairways.
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