Brady's Bunch

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I just read Liz Smith's column about Joe Armstrong's contributions to the magazine industry. Luce and Harold Ross, that pair of loafers, should be ashamed.

Did Wu Tang Clan get a Grammy nomination? I was cataloguing my Wayne Newton CDs and missed it.

Mademoiselle promoted Susan Parkes to associate publisher.

Can anyone fault Jack Kliger for shutting down George? If a Frank Lalli couldn't save it, who could? In a tightening ad market, this isn't likely to be the last marginal mag to fold. But I can't yet agree with Alex Kuczynski and Stu Elliott that the sky is falling.

Parade boosted Ira Yoffe to VP-creative director from design director and tapped Robert Marold as VP-national sales director.

David Carey summed up Y2K for The New Yorker: ad pages 16% ahead to 2,407, revenues rose 29% to top $100 mil first time ever. The rate base rose twice in the year (it's now 800,000), sub renewal rates are now at a record 77%, the sub price went up seven bucks and newsstand price has also risen. Quite a valedictory for young Carey as he departs for Gruner & Jahr.

Speaking of Gruner & Jahr, the new business development corporate editor is Sally Koslow.

Least convincing radio commercial of the young year, astronaut Buzz Aldrin for the New York Tourist & Visitors Bureau, telling us he'd rather be "painting the town red" in NYC than flying to the moon. Yeah, Buzz, sure.

Donovan McNabb in the NFL Hall of Fame at Canton yet?

On the move as new associate publishers of National Geographic, Andrea Vaughan for marketing and Sean Flanagan for ads.

Fashion groupies, please copy: with Rochelle Udell at the helm, WWD will finally (belatedly? perhaps) launch on May 15 as a subscription-based Web service.

Give a guy the shirt off your back? Sportscaster Dick Stockton once did. When Marty Glickman died the other day I remembered a minor TV gig he was doing at Manhattan Cable Television on East 23rd St. years back and his blue shirt clashed with the background. Stockton, much younger and in the studio on other business, seeing the problem, stripped off his own business shirt, urged Marty to don it, enabling the older man to do his gig and have a pay day. Ever since, I've considered Dick Stockton a class act.

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