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Burlesque queen Tempest Storm is apparently as good at putting people on as she is at taking things off. During an appearance in Orlando, Fla. she was asked to predict the outcome of the Florida-Florida State football game. At first she refused, protesting that, "I'm an indoor sport girl." But finally she gave in and predicted a win for Florida a score of 40-21-34.

Which reminds us that out in Tulsa an outdoor sports girl named Mrs. Tom Ososkie, wife of the defensive backfield coach at the University of Tulsa, got into the prediction game several weeks ago. She not only picked Tulsa, a four-touchdown underdog, to win against Arkansas, but guessed the correct score, 21-20. You really ought to get out more, Tempest.

Garfunkel, a flying tiger-striped cat belonging to Steve Smirnoff of Anchorage, Alaska, is now eligible for the feline equivalent of the Admiral's Club. On a flight from Chicago to Anchorage, he escaped from his cage in the hold of a 747 and began pussyfooting around the innards of the plane. It took airline workers three weeks—during which Garfunkel logged about 100,000 miles—to get the cat lured out of wherever he was hiding and back on the ground. From now on Garfunkel's motto is eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we may fly.

From the halls of Canberra Parliament to the cliffs of Dover's shore rang an outcry highly righteous o'er the Duke of Edinburgh. Prince Philip was named president of the Australian Conservation Foundation last week, prompting Labour Party Senator Jim Keeffe to remark, "I fail to see the value or necessity of appointing...a president who has his headquarters 10,000 miles away." That was all that was needed for a lively squabble to develop, with defenders citing the Duke's role as a conservationist. Besides, said the Foundation's director, the Duke has assured the Foundation that he will keep in touch and has asked that their bulletins be sent him twice a week. Well, that's one way to keep in touch.

The next Joe Namath may already be warming up out in Omaha. This is 4-year-old Lee Jacobsen making points with pretty Brijin Hubbard, while his teammates play their little hearts out in the background. We can already see it coming: a lemonade stand called Broadway Lee's.

It's-always-in-the-last-place-you-look dept. Businessman Creed Blevins of Kerrville, Texas hid a $100 bill in the barrel of his shotgun for safekeeping some weeks ago, then forgot all about it. When dove season opened recently—you guessed it. A search at the hunting spot later, when Blevins suddenly remembered what he had done with the bill, turned up 11 pieces of Ben Franklin in not-so-negotiable cash, but a little tape got it all together again, and the local bank presented Blevins with a crisp new C-note. He promised not to blow it all in one place next time.

The Custom Tailors Guild of America has spoken. Arnold Palmer, who has his own line of apparel on the market, and presumably dresses in it, has lost out to natty Henry Aaron as the Guild's choice for best-dressed sports figure in the country. If you want the name of a good tailor, Arnie....

You-Can-Lose-Them-All Award to Mike Donohoe, who was asked by the Atlanta Falcons to lose weight so that he could play tight end. Then just as Mike became what passes for lithe in football circles he was asked to beef up so that he could play tackle. Mike ate his heart out, only to get cut by the Falcons as a tackle—and then only to get brought back as, sure, a tight end.

Obviously, the young man pictured here, 2½-year-old Bart Hull, would prefer to sit down and forget the whole thing, but his dad, Black Hawk star Bobby Hull, has other ideas as he and son Bart get out on the ice at Chicago Stadium for a practice session. His wife Joanne is in the stands, keeping cool. Now if Bart will just hurry up and earn a berth on the Hawks, we will have—with Dennis Hull—the first father-brother-son act in hockey history. Or is that brother-brother-nephew? Or maybe....

Wardrobe-wise, it has been a pretty good year. Show-biz retiree Frank Sinatra has sent a letter to all the professional football clubs asking for warmup jackets. So far, he has only one, from the Eagles. Why warmup jackets? "I'm a good sport," Frankie says.

To thine own self be true, as long as you can afford it. Cartier's in New York filled an order recently for a pair of gold dog tags studded with diamonds. The man who placed the order was Oakland Raiders Offensive Tackle Bob Brown, who requested that the diamonds spell out something simple in the way of a sentiment. He suggested the word "Superstar."