Words that are Seldom Used Today!

StarSong said:
I can't access the article. Thanks anyway.
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here it is in full:


First, the hair. It is still thick, honey brown and styled to perfection.
But Edd Byrnes says all he does is wash and comb his once-famous mane, and that's it. Good genes more than good grooming mean he still has a lot of it. And at 58, that's saying something.
Now he'll have to gray it for his upcoming role in Brigadoon, and that makes him laugh out loud. After all, he's in Fort Lauderdale to do this bit with a group called the Fort Lauderdale Players, and seasoned actor that he is, he still has the hair of his youth.
No big deal, he says of this community theater gig. It's a job, it pays the bills and that's where his life is at the moment.
The fact is that Byrnes' life story is a pop-culture dividing line. If you remember him at the top, you also remember when Elvis was in the Army and Ike was in the White House and the Hula Hoop was the hottest thing going.
And so was Edd "Kookie" Byrnes.
For those who don't remember, or who weren't even born yet, it was 1958 and a hit TV series about two private eyes called 77 Sunset Strip was playing on black-and-white televisions across the country.
Byrnes played a good-looking, jive-talking parking attendant who worked at a restaurant next to the detectives' office. Kookie, as he was called, was a private eye wanna-be who helped the duo on their cases, and when he wasn't, he was combing his ample head of hair. And combing and combing.
He was the guy who caught the public's fancy with his great looks and his slang. "You're the ginchiest" was a Kookie-ism for "You're the greatest." And what set him apart from mortal flesh was that he could say such a goofy thing and make it sound cool. As if that wasn't enough, he and Connie Stevens did a novelty record called Kookie, Kookie, Lend Me Your Comb. And yes, it really was a smash hit.
The big picture here is that years before The Fonz donned a black leather jacket and decades before Bart Simpson blurted out "Eat my shorts," Kookie was America's favorite juvenile delinquent.
Only now, that juvenile delinquent is just a few years from Social Security. And the hair is about the only vestige of the past.
-- The plan was this: Take the man who had made 77 Sunset Strip famous to Fort Lauderdale's infamous Strip and ask him to chat about the future and reminisce about the past.
It seemed like a good idea at the time, except that Edd Byrnes wasn't buying it. Turns out he doesn't do sun. It ages. And while he's on the subject, he also doesn't smoke or drink or do drugs.
He will do lunch, as long as he can drive. After 40 years in Hollywood, after 40 years of doing what he had to do to keep working, he likes to be in control if given the chance.
No matter that it's a hot, humid day and tailor-made for shorts and sunscreen. Byrnes is dressed in a long-sleeved light blue shirt and tan slacks that protect his fair skin from the sun.
He takes care of himself, he says. The point being that if he doesn't, nobody else will.
Seems he's another chapter in the Hollywoood Story of what happens when you peak fast and fade early, though at least he's still around to do the telling.
"When I was 18, I drove from New York to California to be a movie star. Not an actor, mind you, but a movie star," he says. "Have you ever heard of anything so silly?"
He throws back his head and out rolls a sound that's not so much a laugh as a high-pitched giggle that goes on and on.
The funny thing is, he almost made it.
He changed his name from Edward to Edd, getting into those Hollywood affectations early on. But it was Kookie who got thousands of letters, graced magazine covers and battled his way through thongs of teen-age girls who screamed his name a half-dozen years before the Beatles had 'em swooning on this continent. And he was only 25.
"I went on to bigger and bigger homes, more women and more cars," he says. "But I was too young to appreciate it then. I had all of it, but I really wasn't that happy."
-- No, life wasn't the ginchiest, even for the guy who could say that word and make it work.
And today, nearly 35 years after he created his starring role, he's talking the language of a guy who has traveled the therapy route after his brief trip with stardom.
Byrnes says he does his daily "affirmations" -- simply speaking, a verbal dose of positive thinking. He says that "happiness is an inside job." He has read pop psychologist John Bradshaw, who talks of healing the inner child. The truth is, Byrnes is no different from a flock of escapists who sought Hollywood because their home life was hell. Carol Burnett, for one. Michael Landon, for another.
Byrnes arrived licking the wounds left over from an alcoholic father and an unhappy childhood.
Among his earliest roles was in a stage production with fellow struggling actors Michael Landon and Jack Nicholson. As he remembers, they were all getting it on with the leading lady, a woman in her 30s whose name he remembers but doesn't share.
What happened from there is a textbook example of the precariousness of Hollywood stardom.
After all, before his recent death, Michael Landon was golden on television. Jack Nicholson remains golden in movies.
As for Byrnes: He went on to hit it big, but only briefly, in 77 Sunset Strip. Then he worked in a string of forgettable films and guest-starred in a long list of TV shows. He lived and worked abroad. He returned to the States and was in the movie Grease. And in Back to the Beach, an '80s foray back to the '50s with other icons of that era, Frankie and Annette. He did the obligatory Love Boat and Fantasy Island. Four times on the latter, in fact.
But his publicity hook, then and now, still hangs on the fact that more than a generation ago, he was the hippest of the hip.
Small wonder, then, that he calls acting a job and says he can teach anybody everything he or she needs to know in five minutes. That he discouraged his son, a 23-year-old law student who's his only child from his only marriage, from going into acting. That when he speaks of a movie he made a couple of years ago in the Philippines, he says he has never seen the film and doesn't know the title.
"I was the American mercenary," he says. "A lot of Jeeps, explosions and stuff. It was one of those adventure movies, lots of action but not much dialogue."
-- These days, Byrnes says he's living, not just surviving, and that's an important distinction. His credo: "Less is better. Now I say, keep it simple."
And he does. Though that also might mean doing what's affordable.
He lives in a rented apartment in Los Angeles. He buys Guccis, not so much for the name but because they mean quality and they last. His main indulgence, since he never outgrew his boyhood love for sleek cars, is a BMW. ("I got a good deal on it.")
Even though the made-up Kookie was a parking lot attendant, the real-life Byrnes won't let a valet park his car. They've dinged too many in the past.
As for his future: He would like to do a TV series but speaks of it the way some folks view a government job. Steady work. Decent pay. Decent hours.
And he's still looking for "her." That's his word for the woman who will stand by him no matter what.
Chances are when he finds her, she'll be young. Very young. His last major love affair a couple years back lasted more than five years. She was 19 at the start, 25 at the finish.
In the meantime, he has plans for a book. And even though he has no publisher, he has a title that says it all.
"I'm going to call it Edd Byrnes," he says. "Kookie No More."







Posted under Fair Use Doctrine for informational purposes. My thanks to Sun-Sentinel for sharing.
 
Thank you for that, @oldiebutgoody. It was an interesting read. Turns out Edd Byrnes died January 2020 at age 87 of natural causes.

Footnote, though he warned his son away from the business, the advice didn't take completely. Although Logan Byrnes practiced law for several years, he is now a San Diego news anchor.
 
Actress is not used here very much today.

In fact many words that ended in "ess" have
had that bit removed, equality it is called!

Mike.
 
Mike said:
Actress is not used here very much today.

In fact many words that ended in "ess" have
had that bit removed, equality it is called!

Mike.
Click to expand...
"Actress" is still very much in use here, though the generic "actor" is increasingly used in newspaper articles when referring to a female.

The US general public probably uses "actress" 98% of the time.

Has "waitress" been mostly replaced by "waiter" there? (It hasn't been here.) Which other feminizing "ess" suffixes have gone by the wayside in your part of the world?
 
StarSong said:
Ah yes, right you are. I still say linoleum.

I think arborite is a Canadian company. The US version was Formica. Remember this pattern?
View attachment 156018
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I don't remember that pattern, but these I do, and in most home I remember there was a matching kitchen table, or at best, a table with an arborite top.

Oh, the memories.

laminate-kitchen-counters-boomerang-standard_fc5969eb078743d99618eda0910be90a.jpg

1e904b174febd40509cac10b0bc5adb4.jpg
 
One thing about the old vintage arborite counter tops and kitchen tables, homemakers rolled out dough on them, set out fresh pans and sheets of cookies on them, and there was no fussing with upkeep.

A quick wipe when done, counters and table tops always looked clean and fresh, you could wash them down with a mild bleach solution, they never stained, and pound for pound, being the economical material that arborite was, it provided homeowners with an array of colourful and durable options when designing their homes.

Kid friendly, too! I know, because we still have arborite counter tops, and when the kids were little they'd bang their bowls and spoons down on the counter and table, and nothing ever changed. Wipe up the mess and all looked brand spanking new. No scratches, no dings, no dents, no nothing.
 

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