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Imperial circles were divided over the selection of Crown Prince Hirohito's bride in 1918. Some courtiers falsely accused Nagako, the 14-year-old daughter of a princeling, of being colorblind, a stigma that would have disqualified her as the "perfect receptacle" for imperial heirs. Surviving this trauma, Nagako suffered another when, after nearly ten years of marriage, she had not yet produced a son. Urged by his advisers to take a concubine—as many of his prede cessors did—Hirohito refused. This week the couple celebrate their golden wedding anniversary, the dynasty assured by two sons, three daughters and nine grandchildren. The late-blooming Nagako, 70, has become a fine watercolorist and an even better poet, say some of her subjects, than her husband, a renowned versifier and marine biologist. Her most recent waka (31-syllable verse): "The light of dawn shines/ On a crimson bank of clouds/ And morning breaks suddenly/ Over the land of Izu."
The Harvard Lampoon had invited what it called "the biggest fraud in history" to come to Cambridge to accept a Brass Balls Award, created specially for him. Picking up the challenge, John Wayne, 66, rode into town on a 55-ton personnel carrier provided by the Army and accompanied by a bizarre platoon of Jeeps, cavorting cowboys and protesting Indians. At the Harvard Square theater, the Duke was introduced as "a foothill of a man." Then he fielded taunts from the floor. "Is it true your horse filed separation papers?" asked one wag. "He was a little upset when we didn't use him in the last picture," explained Wayne. But apparently even he cannot tear down his macho image. In the midst of the debunking, a woman rose and shouted, "I don't care what they say, you're still a man."
The pugnacious face of Mobster Sonny Corleone glowered from under the big white stetson, only to freeze when the announcer boomed, "It's James Caan of Hollywood, star of Brian's Song and co-star of The Godfather." Distracted by his credits, Cowboy Caan, 33, saw his steer dash safely to the exit at Denver's National Western Stock Show. Though the mishap put him and his partner out of the money in the team roping event, Caan took the setback in stride. He brings to ro-deoing the deadpan dedication of the street-corner cowboy from Queens that he is. He took up the sport several years ago in Nebraska on location, turned professional in 1972. What he likes about the rodeo is its atmosphere. "The cowboys treat you the way they find you," he said. "If they like you, you know it. And if they don't, you know it too."