The Era -- Day By Day

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

"Dear Daily News, How come you never mention Oklahoma? If you do, please don't put it on Page Four. Sincerely, Oklahoma."

I wonder what will become of Prentiss Brown?

Awwwwwwww....

Junior Commandos? Never heard of 'em.

It runs in the family.

I dunno, I don't remember Joy walking quite so prissy...

Musical Score by Max Steiner

Why is Honey suddenly a blonde in panel 11? Or is this more of their weird role-play?

Yes, dear little Judy knows exactly where she's aiming that club.

"The, er, Government." Meaning, of course, Special War Production Administrator Bill Slagg! HE'S GREAT!

 

[LizzieMaine]

And finally,

How to say "UP YOURS FATHEAD" without actually saying it.

 

[Fading Fast]

("Y'SEEE? Y'SEEE?" bellows Sally, her finger jabbing at the bottom of the front page, as Joe sits on a stool examining the latest issue of Whiz Comics while Leonora applies vanilla ice cream to the side of her neck. "I TOL' ya he'd get ridda Camilli nex' an'ne wen' right ahead an' done it! NOW willya let me leave a p'tition heeh?" "I told ye beforre, daughter," sighs Ma, "I don' waant noo trooble!" "WHY DOES EV'RYBODY SAY T"AT WHEN I COME AROUN' WIT' A PETITION?!" erupts Sally, her face red with frustration. "O'ive got enough to warry aboot with ye broother in a prison camp," continues Ma, "withoot worryin' aboot anoothar visit from those boys that shoowed oop when Alice Dooley was sendin' Doorocher those telegrams. Are'nt YE worried abouut ye brotharr?" Sally pauses, her breath coming in heavy gasps, and looks for a long moment at her mother. "T'eh ain' nut'n I c'n do f'Mickey," she replies in an even voice. "He's weh he is an' I'm weh I am. An'neh ain' nut'n I c'n do, a' you c'n do, a' nobody c'n do excep' keep doin' what weeh doin'. BUT T'IS FATHEAD RICKEY! *T'AT* I CAN DO SUMP'N ABOUT!" "Aaaaal roit," sighs Ma, "ye c'n leave ye petition, f'raaal the good it'll do." "T'anks Ma," grins Sally, "I knew y'd see it my way." "Well, wait now," interjects Ma, as Sally wipes the ice cream off her daughter's cheeks. "Where ye off too now?" "Oh, I'm meet'n Alice out t'Fawrest Hills. We gotta -- see somebody about sump'n. I won' be lawng." "Don' f'get ya pocke'book," reminds Joe, lifting the leather satchel from the counter and wincing with surprise. "KIn'a heavy, ain' it?" "Sally Marie Sweeney!" scolds Ma. "You aiiin't carryin' BRICKS again are ye?" "Soitenly not!" huffs Sally. "You know I don' do t'at no moeh." Joe and Ma give her a squint. "I jus' foun' a piece of a loose cobblestone inna alley, t'at's awl. BACK SOON!")
...

Change the accent to New Jersey, and there was a Sally in my high school too. I bet every high school has at least one Sally.

...

Former Republican presidential candidate Alfred M. Landon last night accused President Roosevelt of "life-term ambition," and asserted that the Administration is planning "Fascism after the war." The 1936 GOP nominee, defeated by President Roosevelt in an 46-state landslide, declared in a radio speech that "even now, schisms and hatred stalk the land," and further charged that "disorder is increasing and inflation is imminent." He concluded with a prediction of a "bitter election" in 1944, with current conditions "the preview of life as it will be permanently under the New Deal gone to seed, an arbitrary bureaucracy leading to Fascism or Nazism, and the death-knell of individual freedom." Mr. Landon's broadcast was a response to a speech last week by Vice President Henry Wallace, charging that "American Fascists" are working to undermine the Administration's war effort.
...

Each side of the political divide in America accusing the other of being fascists and Nazis, nothing is new. It's Twitter 1943 style.

...
("I had to do it, don't you see?" stammers Mr. Rickey. "The man is thirty-six years old, thirty-six years old! You will observe from his record this season that age is taking its toll on that once-mighty swing. His vision dims, his reflexes fail, he no longer stands tall and proud at the bag -- I tell you, I had to do it! Had to do it! Besides, his salary! We can no longer afford such extravagance!" "Have some lemonade, dear," eyerolls Mrs. Rickey. "Did you see? That man that walked by outside, that tall man with the whiskers, wearing an overcoat on a warm August day! It's THEM, I know it! The loud one is sitting on the big one's shoulders!" "Have some lemonade dear," sighs Mrs. Rickey. Mr. Rickey accepts the frosty glass and presses it gently to his throbbing forehead. "Do you realize I needed a police escort to leave the ballpark last night?" he sobs. "All due to those women, those women! Judas Priest!")
...

"...The loud one is sitting on the big one's shoulders!"

...

("Oh all right," says Leona, "you can have the outfit. But I'm keeping the pirate hat!" And at least Dr. Putty didn't get thrown out a 16th floor window!)

The strategically placed bow is a particularly tacky touch.

And no kidding, the tossing from the 16th floor is brutal.

...

Musical Score by Max Steiner
...

Caniff has been planing for this Sunday for a long time.

Funny, I recently watched a documentary on Max Steiner on TCM.

...

Why is Honey suddenly a blonde in panel 11? Or is this more of their weird role-play?
...

If so, this would be our second comicstrip couple this week who need a safe-word.

 

[FOXTROT LAMONT]

Taffy is in a tough bind but If she survives the bombard its thunderous crash might restore her memory.
Or Clark Gable-cool as can be, could jump up, race around, find Taffy.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Craps, pokeh, pinochle," recites Joe. "Sueh is a lotta gamblin' innis town, ain'it?" "Shameful," agrees Ma. "Don't these helots know tharrs a waar on?" "S'funny, t'ough," Joe continues, "y'don' heeh so much 'bout bingo no moeh. Guess Butch run t'em awl right outta town, huh?" "As well he should," nods Ma. "Idle hands does th' divvl's warrk." "Less competition," nods Joe. "What?" "Bingggg-go!")

Red armies smashed thru towns only 10 miles north and south of Orel today, as the Communist Party organ Pravda reported that the German army has been so decimated that only 25 percent of its frontline troops in Russia are native Germans. The bulk of Axis forces fighting on the Russian front are, according to the report, made up of Poles, Czechs, Austrians, Alsatians, and nationals of other occipied nations. Paslov, 10 miles northeast of Orel, and Nikulino, 10 miles south of Orel, were among the more than 100 towns and villages overrun in converging drives from the north, east, and south of Orel, key city hinging the southern and central fronts.

An American drive to seize Vila, Japanese air and supply base on Kolombangara Island will probably be undertaken as soon as Munda on nearby New Georgia Island is conquered, it was predicted today by military experts. Vila's capture would be essential to secure the American hold on Munda and to prepare for an extension of th present offensive to Bougainville Island, site of the most important Japanese bases in the Solomons.

(Definition of a trouper.)

A sixteen-year-old boy who has yet to learn to shave is being held by Brooklyn police for a series of holdups here and in New Jersey, committed, the boy said, to get money to spend on girls. Bobby "Baby Doll" Naschak was booked at the Bergen Street station today after admitting to holding up a 3rd Avenue liquor store on Friday night, and on Saturday night a dry goods store and a bar and grill on 5th Avenue, in the latter case lining 30 men up agains the bar at gunpoint . Two other youths, 20 year old Ralph Yamicello of 703 Sackett Street and 18 year old Roland Foglia of 76 Berkeley Place are also being held. Naschak told police he had escaped from the Jamesburg New Jersey State Home for Boys on July 5th, and since then had established a room at the Hotel Diplomat in Manhattan as his headquarters for his crime spree.

("See Here Private Hargrove" in book form is an immensely entertaining time capsule of the "preparedness era" pre-Pearl Harbor conscript army, but as such it'd be terribly outdated if they were to try to literally film the book.)

(And they don't even bring their own soap!)

("Run oveh t' Woolwoit's," commands Sally, surrounded by a crowd of eager signers outside the Prospect Park station, "an' get a bunch moeh tablets! We'eh runnin' outa papeh!" "T'em ones I brung las' time was t'las' ones t'ey had!" declares Alice. "Well go get annykin'a papeh!" snaps Sally. "T'ey gotta sale on wawlpapeh," suggests Alice. "T'at'l woik!" nods Sally. "AWRIGHT FOLKS, STEP UP, PUTCHA NAME DOWN T'GET RIDDA FATHEAD RICKEY! SIGN IT FA FITZ! SIGN IT FA CAMILLI! SIGN IT FA BOBO! SIGN IT FA PETEY!" "Who?" shouts a voice in the crowd, as Alice turns back to watch the sudden clamor.)

(You know, if you weren't so morbid people would like you more.)

(I f you have a chance to ride away on a giraffe and you don't ride away on a giraffe, is there really any hope for you at all?)

("That's great, Dan. I'm looking forward to doing some lab work again." "Yep, as soon as we get there, you can get me a sandwich while I work. Wait, why are you picking up that rock?")

("Um, Grampa, that's not the way we talk in the city at all." "Don't get fresh with me, boy, I read the Old Timers Page! Hey, do you know John P. Pfalzgraff?")

("Ooops, sorry," says the bat. "I guess this isn't Bruce Wayne's house after all.")

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

What were people saying about Detroit again?

Well, at least he didn't shoot a junior high math teacher.

"Did Sandy put you up to this? Where is that yellow dog!"

"That's right, *MRS* Pruneface! He MARRIED me! How's YOUR wife, Tracy? HMMMMMMMM???"

Well, maybe she's more openminded than you think!

Deep currents of factory life.

"Don't YOU know they're off the ration??"

Raven wouldn't run. Just sayin'.

Must've been Bickford's. They don't go for that kind of nonsense at the Automat.

Of course, with the war on, any town is bound to be short of leading citizens.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And also...

This is a terrible summer to be a Dodger fan.

Careful, Whitlow, you're next.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And if you missed Butch's broadcast last night on the Harlem riot, WNYC has a transcription for you...

https://www.wnyc.org/story/mayor-laguardia-addresses-disturbances-in-harlem/

And a follow-up broadcast today --

https://www.wnyc.org/story/mayor-la-guardia-on-harlem-riot/

 

[Fading Fast]

("Craps, pokeh, pinochle," recites Joe. "Sueh is a lotta gamblin' innis town, ain'it?" "Shameful," agrees Ma. "Don't these helots know tharrs a waar on?" "S'funny, t'ough," Joe continues, "y'don' heeh so much 'bout bingo no moeh. Guess Butch run t'em awl right outta town, huh?" "As well he should," nods Ma. "Idle hands does th' divvl's warrk." "Less competition," nods Joe. "What?" "Bingggg-go!")
....

Now that gambling is mainly legal, it appears to have "exploded" in popularity, but based on these 1943 papers, "come out of the shadows" seems to be more what really happened.

...

("Ooops, sorry," says the bat. "I guess this isn't Bruce Wayne's house after all.")

These two need some of Scarlet's strange coffee.

...

Well, at least he didn't shoot a junior high math teacher.
...

If there had been enough to this baby-faced bandit story for a movie script, Rooney would already be memorizing his lines.

...

"Did Sandy put you up to this? Where is that yellow dog!"
...

"I'm in the midwest scouting safe locations "for Annie." I'm studying up on maximum bomber-plane distances to find the ideal spot where a German one can't come from the east nor a Japanese one from the west, so that I, umm, Annie won't have to worry about being bombed. I'd like to stay on the coast and add to my sub total of four, but my, umm, the kid's safety comes first."

...

Of course, with the war on, any town is bound to be short of leading citizens.

That suit would have knocked him out even if the kid hadn't already ruined it.

 

[FOXTROT LAMONT]

And if you missed Butch's broadcast last night on the Harlem riot, WNYC has a transcription for you...

https://www.wnyc.org/story/mayor-laguardia-addresses-disturbances-in-harlem/

And a follow-up broadcast today --

https://www.wnyc.org/story/mayor-la-guardia-on-harlem-riot/

Class, racial warfare launched sharp as thorns on a rose.

And Taffy is disoriented. I was afraid this might happen. Terrence's pencil sure is honed like a razor pointed at collective heart.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Nude bat'e'n at Coney Islan'?" snorts Joe. "I don' even like t'go innat wawteh wit' clo'es on!" "Ahhhhh, Joseph," sighs Ma. "The warrrrld is goo'in mad." "T'is ain' Valley Stream," nods Joe.)

(The truth of exactly what happened between Patrolman Collins and Pvt. Bandy is still not fully known, and never will be.)

Red Armies have slashed thru another 70 towns and villages to tighten their arc around Orel, and Soviet observers said today that the fall of the south-central front Nazi bastion is "a foregone conclusion." There has been no elaboration from Berlin of last night's German broadcast stating that the Russians are attacking "with great violence" inside the southwestern part of Orel, the first Axis suggestion that the Soviets have penetrated the city itself.

American jungle troops today prepared for a final blow at Munda, after advancing 500 to 1200 yards with flamethrowers, tanks, and artillery to reach the edge of the airstrip of the big Japanese base, and seize part of its main defense works. A dispatch from the South Pacific headquarters said the Japanese, while trying not to break out of the siege net were showing signs of weakening against the relentless American assault.

(Until April 12th, our Joe was classified 3-B, deferred for both dependency and essential occupation. But with the abolition of that classification in April, he was moved to 3-A. Tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick....)

Nearly two-thirds of young American women now employed intend to keep working after the war. A survey of working women between the ages of 20 and 35 conducted by Fortune magazine found that nearly half of those
polled would like to continue working in the same field in which they are presently employed. The survey also found that nearly a third of women not now employed intend to find a job "in the near future." Thirty percent of the women polled, who indicated that they are not presently employed in skilled factory work, stated that, if they could be assured of earning as much money in a factory as they could in other employment, they would be interested in taking up such work.

The Eagle Editorialist praises Mayor LaGuardia for his "swift, courageous action" in preventing the Harlem disturbance from turning into a full-scale race riot. The EE contrasts the Mayor's reaction with the response of authorities in Detroit, where "it is doubtful that tragedy would have assumed such proportions if similar methods had been followed." The Mayor's efforts to personally defuse the situation by his broadcasts and his in-person touring of Harlem accompanied by "outstanding Negro leaders" foiled "efforts to direct the disturbance into more dangerous channels." But the EE also acknowledges that the disturbance had its roots in "the intolerable living conditions and other economic grievances that generally lead to clashes between the races." There is no good to be accomplished by "parrot-like repetition" of patriotic phrases about equality unless there is "fair play and justice for all."

("Someday, though, all the brush buyer will have to do is push a button!" "Oh, don't be stupid!")

("Mawrk my woids," declares Sally. "Camilli won't play a single game f't' Giants. He's a Dodgeh t'ru an' tr'u, an' his skin would boin an' blisteh if he eveh put onna Giants shoit!" "Whatta we gonna do wit' awlese p'titions?" queries Alice. "I t'ought we was gonna do it easy, y'know? Tie 'em aroun' a brick an' t'row'm in 'is windeh, but t'es too many! T'eh mus' be eighty a' nine'y pages!" "Too t'ick t'shove unneh'is dooeh," ponders Sally. "B'sides, t'at gal he's got sittin' out front won' let us in. Lemme t'ink." "She won' let US in," agrees Alice. "but t'at don' mean she won' let somebody ELSE in." "Like who?" queries Sally. "Oh, I dunno," continues Alice, rocking back in her chair. "Like, I dunno, Sid maybe." "Krause??" replies Sally. "Y't'ink he'd do it?" "Ohhhhh, I know how t'make 'im do it," smirks Alice. "Awl we need is a briefcase. I betcha Uncle Frank's got a briefcase." "Awright," grins Sally, her fist pounding the table. "I'll get t'briefcase. You get Krause!" "Awwww," Alice chuckles. "I awready GOT 'im. He jus' don' know it!")

Rumors that Babe Ruth, last seen at Yankee Stadium managing a combination Yankee-Cleveland team in a war bond charity game last week, may take over as manager of the regular Yankees next year are being dimissed by Yankee general manager Ed Barrow. Barrow indicated that there are no plans to replace Joe McCarthy, who has helmed the Bombers since 1931.

(WELL LAH DE DAH)

(That's right, step right out in traffic where they can't see you!)

("I only majored in biochemistry, but I'm glad you had time to take that elective in optics. I would have too except I was so busy working on my PHD DISSERTATION.")

(AMERICA'S NUMBER ONE HERO DOG ALWAYS LEARNS FROM HIS MISTAKES)

(She really is her mother's daughter. SUCH LOW BROWS!)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

"There's Something About A Soldier"

"Loud and boisterous?" And why was that, exactly? Seems like a reasonable question to ask.

"Appeasement is out of style these days." Ah, the slashing political humor.

"Well, it'll be safe to wear dirndl skirts again!"

Oh, pastafazool!

GOONEYVILLE! THAT'S A GOOD PLACE FOR SANDY!

Careful now, no flirting with the iceman.

Did we mention that Jessica never was all that bright?

I don't want to know what he's dreaming about.

Well, except at Coney Island.

 

[FOXTROT LAMONT]

Taffy is well on her way. !!!!!

 

[Fading Fast]

...
("Mawrk my woids," declares Sally. "Camilli won't play a single game f't' Giants. He's a Dodgeh t'ru an' tr'u, an' his skin would boin an' blisteh if he eveh put onna Giants shoit!" "Whatta we gonna do wit' awlese p'titions?" queries Alice. "I t'ought we was gonna do it easy, y'know? Tie 'em aroun' a brick an' t'row'm in 'is windeh, but t'es too many! T'eh mus' be eighty a' nine'y pages!" "Too t'ick t'shove unneh'is dooeh," ponders Sally. "B'sides, t'at gal he's got sittin' out front won' let us in. Lemme t'ink." "She won' let US in," agrees Alice. "but t'at don' mean she won' let somebody ELSE in." "Like who?" queries Sally. "Oh, I dunno," continues Alice, rocking back in her chair. "Like, I dunno, Sid maybe." "Krause??" replies Sally. "Y't'ink he'd do it?" "Ohhhhh, I know how t'make 'im do it," smirks Alice. "Awl we need is a briefcase. I betcha Uncle Frank's got a briefcase." "Awright," grins Sally, her fist pounding the table. "I'll get t'briefcase. You get Krause!" "Awwww," Alice chuckles. "I awready GOT 'im. He jus' don' know it!")
...

Oh dear God, not Krause, and with a briefcase no less.

...

("I only majored in biochemistry, but I'm glad you had time to take that elective in optics. I would have too except I was so busy working on my PHD DISSERTATION.")
...

Using my police TV show knowledge, it seems we might have a chain of evidence custody issue here that would quickly get this tossed from court (or more likely, it would never make it there in the first place) at least in 2023.

...

(AMERICA'S NUMBER ONE HERO DOG ALWAYS LEARNS FROM HIS MISTAKES)
...

He really is becoming America's Number One idiot Dog.

And in the Daily News...

"There's Something About A Soldier"
...

One assumes, using a modern term, Gill is a "person of interest."

Also, just an aside, when an officer is transferred to a new base, his mail isn't forwarded to him? That sound really odd.

...

"Appeasement is out of style these days." Ah, the slashing political humor.
...

..

GOONEYVILLE! THAT'S A GOOD PLACE FOR SANDY!
...

"Gooneyville is far enough inland from both coasts that neither Japanese nor German bombers can reach it, which will should keep me, umm, Annie nice and safe for the duration. That's why I'm smiling, I happy for Annie's sake."

 

[Fading Fast]

Hi, has Fedora been off-and-on slow for other the last two days.? It's the only site I'm having issues with, so I assume it is a Fedora issue, but thought I'd ask others

 

[LizzieMaine]

Yeah, it's jittery for me too. Takes a long time to load, and sometimes loads not at all. As Sally would say, I ASK YA!

 

[EngProf]

I had trouble tonight getting on, also.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Huh!" huhs Joe. "Fifty six hunnet berries a yeeh, an' I bet I'm a much betteh ryt'mic danceh'n he is. Howya get a jawb like t'at?" "Ohhhh," ohhs Ma, "Oi'd imagine ye got to be in the roit place aat the roit time." "I useta hangaroun' Roselan' awla time," sighs Joe. "Nobody eveh offehed me no jawb. Well, no, t'at ain' zackly right, one time t'is guy comes upta me an' offehs me a jawb runnin' numbehs. C'n ya 'magine'at?" "Tarrrible," declares Ma, with a disgusted shake of her head. "Ye nevarr know what koinda riff raff ye gonna meet in such places as thaat." As Joe is forming a response to this remark, the bell jingles and the screen door creaks open to admit Hops Gaffney, who spots Joe, shifts the matchstick from one side of his mouth to the other, and tosses a small canvas pouch on the counter. "How's tricks," greets Joe. "Can't c'mplain," mutters Hops. "Nice woik if y'c'n get it," nods Joe. "Yeh," agrees Hops, as he takes his leave. "What was we tawkin' 'bout?" resumes Joe. "Ah," ahs Ma, slipping the pouch under the counter. "Oi farrget.")

The Bagdolio Government in Italy today clamped down an 8 PM curfew on all of peace-hungry northern Italy, as hopes faded for an early Italian capitulation, and the London Daily Express predicted an invasion of the Italian mainland "at any time." A New York dispatch to the London paper quoted "authoritative American quarters" as stating that Anglo-American forces may land on the Italian mainland before the mopping-up of Sicily is completed, but authoritiative quarters in London declined to comment on that prediction. A Rome broadcast monitored by CBS in New York stated that the Bagdolio government will hold a special meeting on Thursday during which "an important decision" is to be made.

Japanese resistance at Munda has stiffened as American troops hammer at the enemy's last defenses, according to a communique from the headquarters of General Douglas MacArthur, but a continued advance is closing a "death trap" on the New Guinea base. American troops advancing with tanks and flamethrowers have now occupied part of Bibilo Hill, north of the Japanese landing strip.

The widow of Brownsville candy store man Joseph Rosen has filed a $190,000 damage suit against the three men convicted in connection with his 1936 murder. Esther Rosen filed action today in Brooklyn Supreme Court against Louis "Lepke" Buchalter, Emanuel "Mendy" Weiss, and Louis Capone, claiming her husband's murder left her destitute. Papers will be served today on Weiss and Capone, who are awaiting execution next month at the Sing Sing Prison death house. Buchalter, who cannot be executed until Federal authorities holding him on a narcotics conviction release him to state custody, has already received his papers at the Leavenworth Federal Penitentiary in Kansas. The three gangsters were convicted of orchestrating the murder of Rosen, who was shot to death by Murder for Money Gang assassins in his Sutter Street store on September 13, 1936, a killing ordered by Buchalter, who, it was stated during his trial, feared that Rosen was about to go to Manhattan District Attorney Thomas E. Dewey to tell what he knew about underworld domination of the local trucking industry. Weiss and Harry "Pittsburgh Phil" Strauss were revealed to have actually shot Rosen, with Strauss having been executed last year for his part in another Murder for Money killing.

(Tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick...)

(Continuing the teen-humor craze, "The Youngest Profession" deals with autograph seekers. And the Breen Office sighs with relief.)

The Eagle Editorialist is amused by the plight of three small-town boys from Massachusetts who came into New York wanting to see the Empire State Building, got on the wrong train, and ended up lost in Brooklyn. "Any Brooklynite could tell them," chortles the EE, "there is no better place in New York to be lost than Brooklyn. And the Empire State Building looks a lot more impressive from Brooklyn than it does at 5th Avenue and 34th Street."

("Don't worry, dear, he gave me his ration book when he came in...")

A Manhattan teenager is recovering from being stabbed three times by a pack of youths on East 97th Street. Sixteen year old John O'Connor of 1509 Lexington Avenue is at Beth Israel Hospital after being set upon by the youths in front of a candy store. O'Connor told police he'd made fun of one of the boys, who was wearing a zoot suit.

("He betteh not botch t'is up," fumes Sally, steaming in the early-evening humidty on the sidewalk in front of the Mechanics Bank Building at 215 Montague Street. "How'da ya know Rickey's even inneh t'is time 'a night?" queries Alice. "Oh, he's inneh," growls Sally, glancing up toward the fourth floor. "Lookit, t'at's his windeh -- it's open. T'fathead awrways has it open when he's woikin' t'let awla hot aieh out. Awrya sueh Krause ain' gonna botch it up? An' what's he mean wearin'at stupid tie? I tol'im t'dress consoivative, an' what's do? He shows up wit' a plaid suit on, wit' a belt inna back an' a Woil's Faieh tie. He's s'posta be a process soiveh! A process soiveh don' look like t'at!" "Heh," hehs Alice. "I see you ain' dealt wit' too many process soivehs!" "Waitaminnit," interrupts Sally. "I t'ink t'is is him comin' out now. Awright, Krause, didja do it? Didja give'm t'petitions?" "Nah," replies Krause, withdrawing a cigar from his inside pocket and fumbling for a match. "He wan'neh. He's in St. Louis." "Noitz!" erupts Sally. "I should'a t'oughta t'at! Well, gimme t' papehs, we'll hafta get 'im when he gets home!" "Oh," shrugs Krause, striking a match on the side of the building and puffing an acrid cloud, "I give t'em t' Jane Ann." "Jane Ann??" snaps Alice. "Yeh," yehs Krause. "T' secketary. Hey, y'din' tell me she's a nice-lookin' dame." "WHAT!" erupts Alice, slapping the cigar out of Krause's mouth. "Yeh," he yehs, blandly withdrawing another cigar from his pocket. "She's t'quiet type. I like t'quiet type, y'know?" Alice rears back to slap the new cigar away, but Krause ducks. "I'm t'quiet type meself," he continues, puffing a fresh cloud. "Hey, less get sump'n t'eat," he suggests, as Sally restrains Alice's hand.)

Former Yankee pitching star Lefty Gomez, who had trials with the Washington Senators and the Boston Braves earlier this season will start for the Bushwicks on Sunday in the first game of a Dexter Park doubleheader against the New York Black Yankees. Gomez, the 35-year-old owner of 189 major-league wins, has recently taken on a new job as athletic director for the Carl L. Norden Company.

(**sob**)

(The Female Gaze!)

(Hmm. Dan seems to be slowly morphing from Cary Grant to Randolph Scott. Oh well, still in the family...)

(From the looks of this neighborhood, Junior is about to get lost in the terrifying wilderness of Willets Point.)

(I once lived over an Indian restaurant, but I soon got sick of the aroma of curry.)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Ahhhh, J. Parnell Thomas, Jersey's answer to "Buncombe Bob" Reynolds. Speaking of Frankensteins, how many of your relatives do you have on your payroll, hmmm? Oh, and If I was the Duchess's couturiere, I wouldn't want to talk about it either.

It's hard to disagree.

"School, fishing, swimming, raiding melon patches? Gee, 'Daddy,' guess you were a real moldy fig, huh?"

"Before-a the war, I was-a dialect co-mediana! Almost hadda jab-a with-a Eddie Cant-aaar! Atsa good, yeah?"

The iceman's sacred oath: "See nothing, say nothing!"

"She's a world famous scalp specialist -- and I'm taking her treatments! BUT YOU MUST NEVER KNOW!"

Nah, if you're the mama, shouldn't you be heading down to the swing shift at Todd Shipyard?

"Um, you didn't drop the bacon, did you? Tell me you didn't drop the bacon!"

"Watch me swim against the tide!" *blub!*

Opportunity doesn't always knock!

 

[Fading Fast]

...

The widow of Brownsville candy store man Joseph Rosen has filed a $190,000 damage suit against the three men convicted in connection with his 1936 murder. Esther Rosen filed action today in Brooklyn Supreme Court against Louis "Lepke" Buchalter, Emanuel "Mendy" Weiss, and Louis Capone, claiming her husband's murder left her destitute. Papers will be served today on Weiss and Capone, who are awaiting execution next month at the Sing Sing Prison death house. Buchalter, who cannot be executed until Federal authorities holding him on a narcotics conviction release him to state custody, has already received his papers at the Leavenworth Federal Penitentiary in Kansas. The three gangsters were convicted of orchestrating the murder of Rosen, who was shot to death by Murder for Money Gang assassins in his Sutter Street store on September 13, 1936, a killing ordered by Buchalter, who, it was stated during his trial, feared that Rosen was about to go to Manhattan District Attorney Thomas E. Dewey to tell what he knew about underworld domination of the local trucking industry. Weiss and Harry "Pittsburgh Phil" Strauss were revealed to have actually shot Rosen, with Strauss having been executed last year for his part in another Murder for Money killing.
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If one didn't know better, you'd think candy stores were, oh I don't know, fronts for the mob sometimes or involved in illegal businesses.

We've said it before, candy stores were some of the most interesting places in the 1930s/40s. When I perfect my time-travel machine, a candy store in Brooklyn will be one of the first places I go, after having a piece of custard pie at the Automat.

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The Eagle Editorialist is amused by the plight of three small-town boys from Massachusetts who came into New York wanting to see the Empire State Building, got on the wrong train, and ended up lost in Brooklyn. "Any Brooklynite could tell them," chortles the EE, "there is no better place in New York to be lost than Brooklyn. And the Empire State Building looks a lot more impressive from Brooklyn than it does at 5th Avenue and 34th Street."
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Every new-to-the-city visitor or, in my case, resident learning the city's insanely complex subway system is going to make a few mistakes. My biggest one had me out in Queens not midtown one day. It's all funny in retrospect, but you can feel a bit lost and overwhelmed when it happens to you, especially amidst a crush of people who all seem to know exactly what they are doing.

The views of the city's skyline really are incredible from Brooklyn.

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A Manhattan teenager is recovering from being stabbed three times by a pack of youths on East 97th Street. Sixteen year old John O'Connor of 1509 Lexington Avenue is at Beth Israel Hospital after being set upon by the youths in front of a candy store. O'Connor told police he'd made fun of one of the boys, who was wearing a zoot suit.
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Once again, a candy store makes an appearance.

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("He betteh not botch t'is up," fumes Sally, steaming in the early-evening humidty on the sidewalk in front of the Mechanics Bank Building at 215 Montague Street. "How'da ya know Rickey's even inneh t'is time 'a night?" queries Alice. "Oh, he's inneh," growls Sally, glancing up toward the fourth floor. "Lookit, t'at's his windeh -- it's open. T'fathead awrways has it open when he's woikin' t'let awla hot aieh out. Awrya sueh Krause ain' gonna botch it up? An' what's he mean wearin'at stupid tie? I tol'im t'dress consoivative, an' what's do? He shows up wit' a plaid suit on, wit' a belt inna back an' a Woil's Faieh tie. He's s'posta be a process soiveh! A process soiveh don' look like t'at!" "Heh," hehs Alice. "I see you ain' dealt wit' too many process soivehs!" "Waitaminnit," interrupts Sally. "I t'ink t'is is him comin' out now. Awright, Krause, didja do it? Didja give'm t'petitions?" "Nah," replies Krause, withdrawing a cigar from his inside pocket and fumbling for a match. "He wan'neh. He's in St. Louis." "Noitz!" erupts Sally. "I should'a t'oughta t'at! Well, gimme t' papehs, we'll hafta get 'im when he gets home!" "Oh," shrugs Krause, striking a match on the side of the building and puffing an acrid cloud, "I give t'em t' Jane Ann." "Jane Ann??" snaps Alice. "Yeh," yehs Krause. "T' secketary. Hey, y'din' tell me she's a nice-lookin' dame." "WHAT!" erupts Alice, slapping the cigar out of Krause's mouth. "Yeh," he yehs, blandly withdrawing another cigar from his pocket. "She's t'quiet type. I like t'quiet type, y'know?" Alice rears back to slap the new cigar away, but Krause ducks. "I'm t'quiet type meself," he continues, puffing a fresh cloud. "Hey, less get sump'n t'eat," he suggests, as Sally restrains Alice's hand.)
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I blame the girls for this one. What were they thinking, Krause? I ASK YA!

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(Hmm. Dan seems to be slowly morphing from Cary Grant to Randolph Scott. Oh well, still in the family...)
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Now, Lizzie, what happens in a beach house in the 1930s, stays in a beach house in the 1930s.

In addition to the more-than-questionable chain of evidence custody issue, we can add an illegal search; this is quite the case detective Dan is building.

And in the Daily News...

Ahhhh, J. Parnell Thomas, Jersey's answer to "Buncombe Bob" Reynolds. Speaking of Frankensteins, how many of your relatives do you have on your payroll, hmmm? Oh, and If I was the Duchess's couturiere, I wouldn't want to talk about it either.
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No kidding, Schiaparelli is no fool.

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"School, fishing, swimming, raiding melon patches? Gee, 'Daddy,' guess you were a real moldy fig, huh?"
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Annie is well past the wholesome small-town family stage with all she's been through. Send her to stay with Nick, someone with whom she could truly further her education.