Tennis ace Jimmy Connors and his pals can be a testy lot, as they showed while exiting England after Jimbo lost to Björn Borg in the Wimbledon semifinals. "The elevator is full—get off or you can go down the shaft," warned one of Jimmy's entourage when a reporter followed onto a lift at Heathrow Airport. The same man told photographers to "Get out of the way or I'll bust your heads in." Connors himself was hardly more receptive. Asked who he thought would win the championship, Connors snapped, "I don't care. You guys have all the answers. You know what happens before it starts, so you say. And don't ask me about my future—why should you want to know that?" Jimmy did make one nonbelligerent statement, about his very expectant wife, Patti—"Everything is going well"—before his companion squelched further interrogatives with the remark, "Any more questions and you could be turned upside down."
Running on Full
He may sing about alpine splendors and joys of natural living, but danged if John Denver is going to go without his Rocky Mountain high-octane. As soon as the gas crunch hit, Denver had a 4,000-gallon fuel tank sunk near his Starwood-at-Aspen home. At 20 miles per gallon in John's Porsche, that's enough gas to circumnavigate the globe about three times, to say nothing of little old Colorado.
Notes from St. Helena
What qualities does Richard Nixon think are required of a politician? An ambitious young GOP gun-slinger found out when he asked for, and got, an appointment at San Clemente. After about an hour's chat, Nixon agreed that his visitor did indeed have political potential, for four basic reasons: "First, you are tall," noted Nixon. "Second, you're obviously intelligent. Third, you are good-looking. Fourth, and most important, you have a fine speaking voice." The youth took this appraisal to one of his own political advisers, who was hardly surprised; he recalled a visit to San Clemente several years ago when Nixon, apparently still oblivious to the dimensions of Watergate, mused about his own Waterloo: "It's always the little things in life that bring you down."
If Burt Bacharach writes songs from life, his next hit may well be something like Do the Limbo; after three years he and estranged wife Angie Dickinson have no plans to divorce or reconcile. "For the entire separation," sighs Burt, "we keep getting asked about our situation, and frankly, it's getting awfully boring. If I go back, I can promise I'll sneak back quietly—no fanfare. I couldn't stand all the fuss and attention."
•Although he signed a campaign letter supporting presidential aspirant John Connally, Houston Oiler running back Earl Campbell admitted, when questioned, that it wasn't exactly an informed decision. "Personally, I don't even vote," says Campbell, who says that he signed simply because old friend University of Texas athletic director Darrell Royal asked him to. "I wouldn't know John Connally if he walked in my front door. I'm not into politics."
•At the end of a late-night session at the recent Camp David domestic summit, black leader Jesse Jackson asked Jimmy Carter if they'd be having his favorite breakfast food next morning. Sure enough, the President replied, and told a story about a New Englander who went into a Southern saloon and ordered a martini. "Regular or special?" asks the bartender. "What's the special?" the visitor asked. The answer: "No grits."
•Despite her ballyhooed retirement from the variety hour format last year, Carol Burnett will return—with her old TV gang—for four shows on ABC starting in August. Explains the comedienne: "I was reading this book a doctor wrote and, well, all this stuff about not staying out in the sun—I didn't know what else to do this summer."