Knuckle Sandwich goes toe-to-toe with one of San Francisco's most sizzling talents, the infamous crooner and rascally rapscallion, the fabulous Mr. Lucky!

In case you've just roused from a ten year Martini binge, or the effects of a rolling pin workout the little lady gave you--let me introduce you to a cat named Mr. Lucky. You know this lug, he's the star that began as just one of the boys! He's the guy that started off at the bottom. The chump that everyone said would go straight to the top... of Nowheresville! The slap happy Joe who never heard of the word "quit" unless it was "quit waterin' the hooch, beertender."

Knuckle Sandwich recently had the pleasure of going mano-a-mano with this rogue swingster who is now too busy being a star of camp and scamp to thumb his nose at those who said he would never amount to a hill of beans. Dames and Dons, Chicks and Charlies, may we introduce the Chairman of the Baghdad by the Bay.

Stan: "Mr. Lucky. You got more suits than a deck of cards, and more chicks than Foster Farms. I take a gander at that incredible Chrysler New Yorker and I can see that you definitely got the swell sled. What our readers want to know is, What makes Mr. Lucky so lucky?"

Lucky: "I'll tell you what makes Mr. Lucky so lucky pal! Out there is a world full of miserable slobs who do the nine-to-five crime and then come home to get the business by the three hundred pound water buffalo in a flowery moo-moo who is masquerading as the dame they married so many years ago" The New York accent suddenly comes on thicker than Aunt Jemima on a short stack. "Mr. Lucky is the personification of the man those guys were, or thought they were, back in the good old days when they could run down to McNally's for a pint with the boys without first checking their masculinity at the door with the better half. Not that I'm knockin marriage. I think it's a great institution with a lot of advantages, unless of course you happen to be a man."

S: "Speaking of knock-about joints. Where woulod somebody find Mr. L. on a typical day in San Francisco?"

L: "Well, let's see. For the coif I've been known to frequent the Squire on Pine and Polk Streets. Ever since my last barber Sario was rubbed out I've been going there and it's alkways top notch. Pop in, point out the style you want off the wall chart and badda bing-badda boom?! You're walkin' out lookin' and feelin' like a new man."

S: "Straight razor and vibrating scalp massage?"

L: "Hey, would Mr. Lucky have it any other way?" I make a mental note to get a trim right after the interview. It must be at least a quarter of an inch on top by now. "Next I'd usually hustle down to McCarthys onj Mission for a boilermaker."

S: "That's where Dick and Danny play, isn't it?"

L: "You kiddin'[ me? They used to back me but now we just get together to play on St. Patricks day." Dick and Danny have been an SF instituition since about the dawn of time. Dick is over 80 reas old and plays the guitar and Danny is a 60 year old harp playing ex-boxcar hobo. "Now these cats are the real McCoy."




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