The Era -- Day By Day

[Harp]

Jeff's inclination now is to engage carnal relations with Nyssa, which the law terms adulterous conduct
''criminal conversation;'' exacerbating divorce marital assets, especially if their house is within ''tennancy in the entirety'' trust. I could work it out for Jeff, but with the way things are going, he might as well do the deed.

Heddy's film ''Ecstasy,'' is fabulous filmmaking at its finest. Seen when a fourteen year old, and definitely
educational viewing.

Captain Grant, apparently a ''back door Johnny,'' has a twenty six year old accuser. I presume she took the
stand for the prosecution, and therefore subject to cross. The court transcript would make salacious though
possibly exculpable reding. Were she eight or nine years younger, his defense would have a Sisyphean task;
however, veracity can be challenged against maturity. I do not necessarily doubt his guilt but ***ulative attendant case evidence, with his gallant service record, mitigate character accusation.

Terry might have a shot at Dragon Gal, so I hope he continues this mission. And I like the economics supply chain transport analysis angle talk. Need a Keynesian Cross chalk scribble too. Okun's Law for production at less than full employment won't appear for another eighteen years or so, but our hero is undoubtedly headed to the University of Chicago.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Figyehs'eh real name's 'Mildred,'" sneers Sally. "I neveh knew a Mildred yet t'at wasn'a rat. Now you take Mildred Kelly -- shee'za one gimme t'em benzedrines'at time, an'..." "I din' like 'eh," interjects Joe, in a flat, toneless voice. "I know ya din'," nods Sally. "Even when she was Mildred McCullough she wasn' no good. One time when we was kids..." "We useta lissen to'eh, y'know," continues Joe. "Leas' some'v'm did, some'a t' guys. She neveh cawled'ehself 'Sally' y'know, she was 'Midge.' But t'guys awl cawled'eh 'Sally.' T'ey'd lissen an' she'd go awn an' awn 'bout Roosevelt an'na Je ws an' awlat. An'na guys'd jus' laugh." "I t'ought she jus' played music," replies Sally. "An' made jokes 'bout who's sitt'n undeh t' app'l tree.""No," maintains Joe. "She was a Na zi, straight up. Like t'em ones haddat rally up'ta Gawrden 'nat time, an' you wen' up t'eh an' chucked a few bricks. T'at's what she was." "Hmph," hmphs Sally. "An'nen t' guys foun' out 'bout you," continues Joe, his eyes far away. "'Bout yawr name bein' Sally. An'ney'd ride me 'bout it, y'know? Make jokes. An' I tol'm t' lay awff, it wasn' funny. An'nafteh t'at most'vm cut it out. 'Cep' t'is one guy, a sawrgeant useta run'na fiel' kitchens. He kep' makin' cracks. Sayin' did I hafta say 'heil' when I come home at night, 'nat kin'a stuff. An'nee kept it up, an' kept it up. So one day I let'im have it." "Ya fought 'im?" gasps Sally. 'No," admits Joe. "I tripped 'im an'ee fell in a pot fulla mash p'tat'ehs. T'em Awrmy pt'at'ehs, y'know. We'd put a lotta wawteh inneh t'stretch 'm out. Like wawlpapeh paste. An'ee went right in head foist." "Did'ee get -- boint??" gapes Sally. "T'eh wasn' nut'n hot out t'eh, Sal," whispers Joe. "Nut'n but cold. A face fulla ice col' Awrmy mash pt'atehs. Jus' like hitt'n'im with a hunka cement." Sally regards her husband with a look somewhat akin to awe. "Joe," she finally sighs. "I'm awrf'l glad I married you. Steada some joik." "Yeh," nods Joe, returning to his newspaper as though nothing had been said....)

("You shoulda hoid'm goin' at it," exclaims Bink, leaning against the Bohack's meat counter. "Awl day an'nen awl night. Awl because t'is lady Jimmy married uset'a go wit' Fatty." "Ain'nat agains'ta lawr?" gasps Rosa. "Awr t' Ten Comman'ments a' sump'n?" "T' ol' lady's awna rampage," declares Bink. "An' me 'bout t' have a baby." "You eveh lissen t' t'em soap oprehs?" queries Rosa. "Onna radio?" replies Bink. "Why ya ask?" "Jus' wond'rin'," eyerolls Rosa...)

("That's a relief, can you imagine the noise?")

("What's this?" sniffs Mr. Rickey, as he notes Mr. Parrott unwrapping a large parcel. "Um," stammers Mr. Parrott, "just -- um -- nothing. Something -- uh -- somebody sent me." "Open it," commands Mr. Rickey. "Um," shudders Mr. Parrott, opening the carton to reveal a spectacular gaudy sombrero inscribed "Souvenir of Vera Cruz." "It's -- um -- for my wife," quakes Mr. Parrot. "Judas Priest..." murmurs Mr. Rickey....)

(Crude now comes in 30-weight? Won't Standard Oil be surprised!)

("Sorry, sir, you've been expelled for moral turpitude. Even those guys have a limit.")

(They laid off the Inspector's entire staff and didn't even tell him.)

("Devastating outfit? Not those gloves again...")

("Yeah, yeah, times are tough all over.")

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News....

"This is Paterson, not Valley Stream!"


A gal's gotta have a good time somewhere...

It's always good to check in on old friends.

"So I'm trying to help. I gave him some hair pomade and a megaphone. And was he grateful?"

Mr. Gray is thinking about a career change, and is trying to talk himself out of it.

I hope Hu Shee and Johnny Jingo are happy together.

Graduate? That's ridiculous. Corky was born in 1928. That makes him --- oh. Migawd. Where does the time go?

Not very good at tying people up, are you Keeny?

"Everybody thinks it's easy till they try to DO it." -- R. Vallee.

Inflation takes its toll.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Worker...

There's a New World Coming...

 

[Fading Fast]

"... Like t'em ones haddat rally up'ta Gawrden 'nat time, an' you wen' up t'eh an' chucked a few bricks."

Every family has its crazy stuff that seems almost normal inside the family.

**********************************************************

"That's a relief, can you imagine the noise?"

I lived a block from the UN back in the '90s. You get used to the protest groups.

**********************************************************

"This is Paterson, not Valley Stream!"

I had the same thought. Also, can you imagine if some of these people saw the world now, 80 years later.

Re the young heiress Froedtert, technically, I'm betting a white wedding is no longer possible.

**********************************************************

I hope Hu Shee and Johnny Jingo are happy together.

Fob Cob, or whatever the heck her name is, can't shine Hu Shee's shoes.

**********************************************************

"Everybody thinks it's easy till they try to DO it." -- R. Vallee.

"But the 'extras' that get thrown on stage make it all worth it" thinks Vallee recalling a crazy spitfire of an Irish girl with an endless mouth but plenty of "enthusiasm" back in the '20s. How funny would it be if Sally really had that in her past.

 

[Harp]

Missing heiress Suzanne Froedert has a certain Lauren Bacallish look, a bit more mature woman than
adolescent schoolgirl coquette. And her Lothario trucker, Ollie Williams' counsel should avail this
facet as defense against statutory **** or contributing to minor delinquency. Although her father asked
that prosecution of Williams be ended, the local prosecutor can proceed at his own discretion.

And discretion leads to attractive Rose Drummond, wed an ''ardent horse player'' vagabond louse,
Walter, who dabbles thoroughbreds and his ex-wife. Probable adulterist this track crow.

Tomorrow's million dollar Virginia Derby, a mile three-sixteenth nine furlong sretch run with slight speed,
off pace stalkers, and a capable closer is a puzzle. Trainer Chad Brown's horse, Emerging Market just popped
his Maiden but has a high Beyer. Still, after a maid solo, a graded stakes is a lot to ask. And after fifteen such tries in the last five years, Brown has consistently missed the Winner's Circle with post maid stakes shots.
Howsoever, this shooter feels different. He breaks far outside numero nine however, and Chip Honcho
can grab the lead. But can he hold it or will closer Golden Tempo, my top pick nail it? Golden Tempo has failed to run down Chip Honcho in the past, so I feel tentative about him.

Terry asked if he was in love isn't a shocker. The Army prefers single unattached men because their
not staked down with a woman to live for. Now, if Dragon Gal was his squeeze, Terry would be virtually
worthless as a point taker. And I wouldn't blame him.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Cheeh'rup," admonishes Sergeant Doyle, thru a mouthful of Toomey's donut. "It's spring!" "Pfaaa," scoffs Uncle Frank. "Oi doon' wanna hear 'boot no 'yoong man's fancy.' Oi gaaht trooble'anoof with a yoong man's fancy t'last me a loifetoime." "Heh," snickers Doyle, lighting a fresh Old Gold. "I hoid'about'cha kid t'eh. Whooda t'ought t'at meathead'd hit t' jackpawt?" "It ain't foony," growls Uncle Frank. "Nora's ahhn th' waaarpath. She's saaartain thar's gaaaht t' be an angle. An' thin she foond oot OI usetarr go with th' wooman meself." "Oh you sheik," guffaws Doyle. "It was fifty yaaaaars agoo," protests Uncle Frank. "A youthfool dalliance." "Love'm an' Leave'm Leary," smirks Doyle. "Nora's got me sleepin' on th' soofa," laments Uncle Frank. "An' whin she ain't blisterin' me hoide aaahf with 'arr remaaarks, she's tellin' me th' only reason Izzie married Jimmy is t' get t' ME." "Ya sly dev'l," nudges Doyle, helping himself to another donut. "An' she ain't haaalf wrong," declares Uncle Frank. "Oh, it ain't me she wants. It's me mooney." "Y'mean t' ol' lady's money," corrects Doyle. "Whativvar," snaps Uncle Frank. "Think aboot it. Harr hoosband died fifteen yarrs ago. She's bin roonin' thru that mooney ivvar since, an' it's gaaht t'be aboot droyed oop. An' thin she meets Jimmy an' figyarrs oot who'ee is, an' asks aroond --" "Didn' ask ME," interrupts Doyle thru a slurp of coffee. "Th' piiint is," continues Uncle Frank, "Oi got t' doo soomthin'. An' th' farrst thing is, Oi gotta get Jimmy away fr'marr. An' thaaat's wharr YOU coom in. Oi wantchar t'poot Jimmy in coold staaarage f'ra whoile." "Huh," huhs Doyle, with a puff on his cigarette. "Dincha say he's livin' in Tuckahoe? I got no jurisdiction'eh." "He cooms inta toon here ahhl th' toime," insists Uncle Frank. "Struttin' oop an' down Rogaaars Avenarr so ivrybody c'n see'im. Oi doon't care what'chee charge'im with, hoold'im as a material witness. Whativvar. Jus' get'im oota soit farr a whoile, an' gimme a chance t'wark on harr." "Yeh," shrugs Doyle. "I can do t'at. Gonna cost'cha." "Poot it," sighs Uncle Frank, "ahhhn me tab....")

("So how'm I gonna know when?" queries Bink. "I mean, do I gotta make'n apperntment a' sump'n?" "You'll knoo," frowns Ma, looking up from her ledger. "Farrrst, ye'll get a backache." "I hadda backache f'nine mont's," frowns Bink. "Ye'lll knoo," continues Ma, "An' thin, ye'll feel cramps." "I awrways got cramps," shrugs Bink. "It'sem onions." "Not thoos koin'da cramps," warns Ma. "Yeee'l knoo. An' thin yarr water'll break." "Huh?" huhs Bink. "Yeeee'll knoo," repeats Ma. "Maybe y'betteh write it down," sighs Bink. "I dunno why t'ey gotta make it so comp'lcated." "Ohhhhh," warns Ma. "Ye ain't seen nooooooothin' yet....")

(KIDS TODAY)

(They gave Hatten Fitz's old number? He must've gained weight in the service.)

(Buying a fur coat on the first day of spring? That's the essence of "fronting.")

("You see this crisp five dollar bill?")

(Ah, payroll robberies. Do it in the middle of 35th Steet for real nostalgia. Just watch out for Leonard Weinberg, Hero Cabbie!)

(Again with the gloves???)

("Sing for your supper, and you'll get breakfast...")

 

[Fading Fast]

Buying a fur coat on the first day of spring? That's the essence of "fronting."

Well, Martin's ad did say now is the time to purchase your next winter's fur coat.

********************************************************

Ah, payroll robberies. Do it in the middle of 35th Steet for real nostalgia. Just watch out for Leonard Weinberg, Hero Cabbie!

Like jewelry robber, it's another respectable underworld career that's just disappeared. The criminal world's version of Schumpeter.

********************************************************

 

[LizzieMaine]

The Lounge is horrifically sputtery today -- two hours just to upload today's News images. Nevertheless, we endure.

And in the Daily News...

If you expect to make it in WASP society with a name ending in a vowel, you *better* have a $5000 fur coat.

Let's see Davega top that!

Wait'll you see where they put the bathtub.

"Whoa, not so close."

Basketball? Planning to major in point-shaving?

I dunno 'bout Mr. Gray, but my forefathers laid bricks. Filling, but not very nutritious.

Terry knows everybody makes fun of him.

Look, nobody here seems to understand the tied-to-a-chair-in-the-villian's-lair routine...

"I can remember when they didn't throw tomatoes." -- R. Vallee.

Eau de Carbona.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Worker...

Although it was widely believed that Charlie Chaplin was Jewish, he always responded when asked directly, "I have not that honor."

Six grand? Una miseria.

 

[Fading Fast]

If you expect to make it in WASP society with a name ending in a vowel, you *better* have a $5000 fur coat.

But for a mere $400, one could have an ermine jacket. Just sayin'.

*******************************************************

"I can remember when they didn't throw tomatoes." -- R. Vallee.

Against all odds, this strip's storylines have gotten worse. It's a chore to read it everyday. Your comments are by far the best part.


Thank you, Lizzie, for fighting through the tech issues to post today.

.

 

[LizzieMaine]

Remember when Harold was a two-fisted he-man fighting Na zi spies on a train? Pepperidge Farms remembers.

 

[ChiTownScion]

Although it was widely believed that Charlie Chaplin was Jewish, he always responded when asked directly, "I have not that honor."

When people make that mistake with me, I say, " I am not a member of the tribe, but I am a friend and ally of the tribe."

 

[Harp]

The Americans had successfully cracked Japan's invincible '''Purple'' code; however, Rochefort's
cryptanalysts failed to heed the thunder in silence, specifically the ''Kido Butai'' attack force radio silence
after leaving Japanese waters. The Imperial Japanese Navy petroleum and gasoline stocks as of 7 December 1941 were sufficient for six additional months; afterwhich, the Imperial fleet would cease as a combatant flotilla,
something the samurai would not allow. Therefore, the Dutch East Indies would be struck for its oil fields.
American naval stations Subic Bay and Pearl Harbor necessitated surprise attack. The poker face South Pacific map could be read; yet remained unintelligible to American higher echelon commanders. Rochefort included,
and more telling still was the silence.

I wrote my thesis on Pearl Harbor before Rochefort's second, Edwin Layton published his memoir,
And I Was There, which largely serves literary exculpatory purpose. Ladislas Farago's The Broken Seal is
absolutely fabulous, as is Gordon Prange's opus, At Dawn We Slept.

Of the nine entrants for the Louisiana Derby, four horses lacked, and were dismissed. This left a residual
superfecta five: Golden Tempo; Chip Honcho; Easterly; Blacksmith; and Emerging Market. A dismissal,
a plodder named Universe, fired off a ****** while training, so was considered as a surprise. The 'ALL' was hit once; including the cast offs to cover caprice; however, Chip Honcho; Golden Tempo; Emerging Market retainpack lead. Blacksmith, a capable Baffert entry with a 100 Beyer is noted. Baffert normally doesn't ship Louisiana but the Kentucky Derby available points spurred exception. Baffert likes to run a ******* second for coverhis main man in the Derby and other big paydays. It's his signature style along with last minutescratches that collapse hard wrought superfectas.... Anyway, my a.s is covered. The distance in this longest nine furlong prep remains the question. Chip Honcho and Golden Tempo have struggled over
less distance run. Baffert believes distance hereditarily innate and surmountable at speed. Consequently
he rates Beyer higher; so Blacksmith is enigmatic equine today.

 

[Harp]

When people make that mistake with me, I say, " I am not a member of the tribe, but I am a friend and ally of the tribe."

I love Jewish girls. Irishmen all have ecumenical Celtic hormones.

 

[Harp]

Pavlovian, a discarded joker, rode the rail to place behind Emerging Market, who is well on his way
to the Kentucky Derby after this afternoon. Universe came in surprisingly fourth, while Golden Tempo hit
the board crossing wire as third. Chip Honcho came in fifth followed behind by Blacksmith.

At first glance, distance proved a hurdle for highly favored Chip Honcho and Blacksmith. But Pavlovian
proved a monkey wrench surprise, hitting the board for a piece with an absolutely stunning second place
finish. I didn't expect that; nor frankly the race handle. A tad light for this twelfth after the first race definitely
showed crowd's open wallet resultant milk and honey mindset. Well, I'm out a fast $Fifty for a second week
busted flat a-s flush.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Yeh," sighs Sally. "C'n ya b'lieve it? Some fathead cawp got 'im f' jaywawkin acrost' Empieh Boulevawrd, up neeh Toomey's Dineh." "Empieh Boulevawrd??" gapes Alice. "At'sa good way t'get kilt, try'na jaywawk up t'eh." "Ma hadda fit," continues Sally. "I was inneh stoeh las' night afteh woik, tawkin' t' Bink Scanlan, an' Ma ansehs t' phone, n' 'eh eyes get awl big like t'is, an' she yells "dia dahbawwl!" -- t'at's like sayin' 'gawdammit' in Irish -- an' she runs out t' dooeh, jus' leavin'a receiveh hangin'eh. I go oveh t' hang it up, but t'ez nobody awna line. She musta run awla way up t' t' precinc'. T'at's five blocks. Runnin'. At Ma's age." "I couldn' run no five blocks at MY age," marvels Alice. "So what happn't, she bail 'im out?" "Well, you ain' hoid'a rest'v'it," relates Sally. "Toins out it was awl a mistake, t'ey arrested'a wrawng guy! T'ey got Uncle Frank, an' it was s'post'a be some ot'eh ha'fwit jaywawkin' awn Empieh Boulevawrd. Can ya beat t'at?" "Ohhhhhhhhhh," exclaims Alice, as perception dawns. "I sweah," declares Sally, "t'ez nobody inna woil' stupideh t'en a stupid cawp." "Oh," chuckles Alice, "I c'n t'ink'va few...")

("Ye bloooody caboog," rants Ma. "Gett'n ye'self ARRESTED!" "Leave it goo," sighs Uncle Frank, slapping Bink's hand away from the bacon, the better to serve himself. "Ye made yarr thought knoon aaahn that pint aaahl noit laang, let's greet th' new day with a smoile." "Did'jee smoile in ye moog shot?" snaps Ma. "Ye KNOO tharr crackin' doon again aaahn gamblin', an' th' LAST thing Oi need is me hoosband in th' clinkarr!" "It was an haaaaanest mistake, Oi toold'jee a hoondred toimes," insists Uncle Frank. "If y'gonna fight smo'eh," interjects Bink, "c'n I have ya eggs?" "They was s'poosta pick up JIMMY an' get 'im oota circulaaation," reiterates Uncle Frank. "Boot that plank oova p'trolman didn't hear WHICH Leary they was s'poosta bring in, an'ee nipped me instead. That's aaaahl it woos!" "You an' ye plans," growls Ma. "Oi've had enoof. Finish ye breakfast, an' when ye doon, ye get in that troock an' ye droive t' Toockahoe, an' ye have it oot with that wooman face t' face. Ye tell'ar if she wants that great loonkhead soon'a yaars she's welcome t'wim, boot she's t'keep'arr beak oota our affairs, an' if Oi see'ar aroond here she'll be tradin' that maaatheat'n faar in farr a shrood!" "If y'ain' gonna finish t' bacon'," adds Bink, "c'n I have t'at too?")

(Honesty in an elected official is always appreciated.)

(I can't believe they didn't run this on the sports page.)

(Portable folding chairs were the norm in the boxes at most ballparks for quite a while. Made it easier to accomodate -- ah -- non-standard widths in those high-priced sections.)

(I wouldn't worry, they won't be able to deliver until 1949.)

(Mary's as sick of this story as we are.)

(This would be so much better with an actual chimp.)

(Um...)

("What, no gravy?")

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Jeezuz...

"So t'at's how it's gonna be...." -- Sgt. Solly.

"Don't you know there's a peace on?"

Why does Diet Smith's head look like a giant pencil eraser?

You can make a good living as a private eye if all the crooks are dumb.

Well, you wouldn't need help if Wilmer did his share of the work.

He should do it. Shadow should book him in New York, and he can run into Senga...

Yep, stick with cartooning.

Remember when you had armies of followers ready to march on your command? Peace is hell.

Speak up, Mamie, he can't quite hear you.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Worker...

Coming Events...

 

[Fading Fast]

"Boot that plank oova p'trolman didn't hear WHICH Leary they was s'poosta bring in, an'ee nipped me instead. That's aaaahl it woos!"

Doyle and Frank deserve each other as neither one can execute a plan correctly to save his life.

As for Bink, it's like dinner theater every day living there.

********************************************************

"So t'at's how it's gonna be...." -- Sgt. Solly.

There are few easy days running a small business.

********************************************************

Yep, stick with cartooning.

Seems to be the belabored point.

********************************************************

Coming Events...

Absolutely the way to do it. Fine, you run your business your way, but you won't get me as a customer.