The Era -- Day By Day

[Fading Fast]

"...Who't'hell caehs 'bout lissenin' t' Jinx Fawlkenboig's mot'eh?" "I would," admits Alice. "I wanna know how she come up wit'tat name."

You have to love Alice.

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

"Whatever, I'm going to bed. Wait, do I live here now? How did that happen?"

I've often thought about how confusing in the real world her life would be.

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

Walter Catlett does comics now? Good casting!

Good one, Lizzie.

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

"Even Rickey would spend $10,000," reads Mr. Parrott, "to get $100,000 back." "I'll sue," flares Mr. Rickey, "for slander!"

"It costs upfront money to sue, Mr. Rickey."
"Hmm, maybe a strongly worded letter. You're a writer; get on that."
[Heavy sigh.] "Yes, sir."

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

Layers upon layers, wheels within wheels. And I wonder where Mardo went on his vacation?

We all know papers exaggerate, etc., but it will be hard to ever feel remotely the same about Owen after all this.

 

[LizzieMaine]

Under the circumstances, a five-year ban might just be the best thing could happen to Arnold Malcolm Owen. He'll have a lot of time to think.

 

[Harp]

No doubt ex para Alex Jaros, two-bit stickup smash and grab robber of Silver's cafe
is formerly of the 82nd Airborne, not the 101st Airborne Division. That kind of ******* chump change penny ante crud seems definitely eighty deuce latrine **** game dice roll.

And Milt definitely is phoning it all in.

 

[EngProf]

No doubt ex para Alex Jaros, two-bit stickup smash and grab robber of Silver's cafe
is formerly of the 82nd Airborne, not the 101st Airborne Division. That kind of ******* chump change penny ante crud seems definitely eighty deuce latrine **** game dice roll.

And Milt definitely is phoning it all in.

He mentioned being in Africa. That makes him 82nd for sure...

 

[LizzieMaine]

("So t'at's about'a size'v'it," sighs Joe. "T'at guy Sobol wants t'see Rosa on Monday. He says she's been gett'n a lotta fan mail f'rm t'at television t'ing she done." "From who?" puzzles Sally, gazing out at the lot, where Miss Capiello is doggedly attempting a triple axel. "Guys in bawrs?" "I dunno," admits Joe. "But Sobol awlso says Tex McCrary put in a woid f'reh. Says she's got poissonality." "Hmm," hmms Sally. "Sump'n's brewin'. What's SHE t'ink? I t'ought she din' wan' nut'n t'do wit'tis show business stuff." "She don't," nods Joe. "But we was tawkin' it oveh, an' I mean, jeez, Sal, she's got'tem kids t' take caehra, Angie 'n Jerry. An' I guess Heckie's 'is own kin'a han'ful. An' gawdknows wit' t' track closed she ain' makin' much out'teh. I slipped'eh'ra few bucks las' week 'cause 'eh lan'lawrd was dawggin' 'eh, but..." "Ah," nods Sally, regarding her husband. "Good," she adds. "You goin' wit' 'eh Monday?" "Shoiley's gonna," sighs Joe. "Y't'ink I oughta too?" ""Y'said y'self," reminds Sally, "y'ain' doin' much business. Dinchoo say Sammy could run t'ings?" "HEY!" shouts Joe. "Y'see t'at? She spinned inna aeih t'ree times an' din' fawl oveh!" "Poissonality," admits Sally, as Rosa goes into another spin...)

("I don' need no moeh foolishness outa YOU," growls Solly. "Paaaaaaarish th' thaaaght," insists Uncle Frank. "Boot didn'chee say we had noothin' t'waaaarry aboot?" "I know *I* don't," declares Solly. "An' I tawked awna phone lawng distance t' Lowrey, an' he's comin' t' town nex' week, an'na t'ree of us 'a gonna siddown an' go oveh ev'ry bitta papehwoik wit'ta fine toot' comb an' make soiten it awl adds up. But I'm gonna tell ya right now, if I fin' out 'bout any lit'l side deals you been makin' t'at I din' know about, t'ez gonna be hell-ta-pay. Y'get me?" "Um," ums Uncle Frank, his collar suddenly tight. "Absooolooootley.")

("And those recap war tires only blew out twice!")

(If you can't rely on beating up the Phillies, what CAN you rely on???)

(It would be instructive to see Mr. Owen suit up for the Bushwicks the next time Satchel Paige comes to town...)

(Look to your laurels, Margaret Dumont...)

(OK, so I was the sarcastic brunette with glasses in radio for fifteen years, AND THIS NEVER HAPPENED.)

(Walter Catlett always plays this guy.)

(I have no idea what is going on with Russell Stamm, but somebody needs to check on him.)

(You snooze, you lose. Isn't that right, Sandy?)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Mrs. Brunelle hardly ever sees her husband. Little late for that, hm?

And here we thought McCrea was supposed to be a tough guy.

*snif.* Ew, what's that smell?

"Kil led by servants."

Poor Hassan. All this for a twenty-cent-an-hour raise.

Yeah, you slumbercoot!

Says the guy called "Shadow."

Fine. Just send her a check for taking care of the house.

You ain't seen nothing yet.

It's a rough neighborhood when thugs make house calls.

 

[Fading Fast]

It would be instructive to see Mr. Owen suit up for the Bushwicks the next time Satchel Paige comes to town...

It would indeed. Or he can stay pure to his "principles" and try to make that farm work, cause farming is pretty easy.

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

OK, so I was the sarcastic brunette with glasses in radio for fifteen years, AND THIS NEVER HAPPENED.

Yes, but you were in that role in the wrong decade.

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

I have no idea what is going on with Russell Stamm, but somebody needs to check on him.

God yes, I'm lost.

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

You snooze, you lose. Isn't that right, Sandy?

"He clearly doesn't have what it takes to be in a nationally syndicated strip like us top dogs."

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

And here we thought McCrea was supposed to be a tough guy.

It's so much easier when they write the scripts for you.

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

Yeah, you slumbercoot!

It was idiotic to go work on a farm for a vacation.

 

[Harp]

He mentioned being in Africa. That makes him 82nd for sure...

Definitely their drop zone.

 

[Harp]

The Lucas marital assault intrigues with its dual nature and deliberate intentional element,
which ***ulatively negate passion as trial defense. Were Lillian Lucas my client, I would advise her more pragmatic spousal standing and accept prosecution plea tender or initiate a cop plea offer to avoid trial for what might be murder uno. Her husband's stomach wound and blood transfusions indicate aorta or iliac arterial perforation, which portend death.

Mary Worth is hot comic strip cartooning par excellence with Brick drawn extraordinarily
enticing, matched dialogue, and the exact type of blatant female allure GI readers crave.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Show business," sighs Sally. "I jus' dunno. I was tawkin' t' Ma about it yestehday, an' y'know what she said? 'Oi aaaaalways thaaat'chee ought t' be on th' raddio yeself. Ye talk soo mooch ye ought t'get paid farr it." "Heh," hehs Alice, as Sally glares. "Oh," adds Alice. "I mean, you really otta -- y'do t'at Irish stuff s'good, y'could be one'at'em dialectical comedians." "Yeh, yeh," dismisses Sally. "Whateveh. But awlis stuff 'bout Rosa -- it makes me t'ink, y'know? Me 'n Joe, when we was dancin', we coulda been awn television, c'ept'eh wasn' any. Did I eveh tell ya, afteh we come in fift' inna Hawrves' Moon Bawll t'at time, a guy come up t'wus. Wan'ned t' book us in a t'eateh, right inna neighbehood heeh. It woulda been a stawrt. We coulda been as big as Veloz an' Yolanda. But -- we din' do it." "What happn't?" questions Alice. "Ahhhh, nut'n," sighs Sally. "Jus' one'a t'em t'ings." "Huh," shrugs Alice. "Ain'at awrf'l. Y'neveh get anot'eh chance like'at. Hey, what t'eateh was it?" "Oh, I don' r'emembeh," mumbles Sally. "One'a t'ese ones, y'know..." "Ahhh," nods Alice, as comprehension dawns. "Loew's Orien'al, huh?" "Oh who caehs," growls Sally...)

(Poor Miss Weiss. These mixed relationships are so difficult.)

(All right, now I really want to know what happened with Vern "I was down there two days but loved the Browns so much I just had to go back" Stephens...)

(You know, *** cleaning patches really aren't so expensive that you have to use paper.)

(What always bothers me about funny-animal universes is who decides what animals get to walk upright and wear gloves, and what animals stay on all fours and go around naked?)

(At least she took her shoes off.)


(Master Young has just discovered the Song of Solomon.)

(The sulky type? I dunno, maybe peevish.)

(Never mind all that, what did Taft's palm say?)

(Pastrami sandwiches??? Make me an offer I can't refuse!)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

"All right, who sent ten cases of Lifebuoy?"

The better establishments post the racing charts right there inside the booth.

"Oh well. We're still having the reception, right? Because I haven't eaten."

Mr. Gray owns a well-worn copy of "The Big Book Of Melancholy Quotes."

Better not sit too close to the hatch, hon.

This is why the better hotels require a deposit.

I want a signed "Zack Mosley" souvenir blanket too!

Mama DeStross was a big hit with that dance at the 1893 World's Fair.

When the game itself becomes the point.

"And you should be sure to offer a family rate."

 

[Fading Fast]

"...Hey, what t'eateh was it?" "Oh, I don' r'emembeh," mumbles Sally. "One'a t'ese ones, y'know..." "Ahhh," nods Alice, as comprehension dawns. "Loew's Orien'al, huh?" "Oh who caehs," growls Sally...

She's still the best.

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

Poor Miss Weiss. These mixed relationships are so difficult.

I had a similar thought and then it hit me, she actually enjoys the friction or she wouldn't have put it in the paper. Just like she happened to "casually" note "all the boys I go with," which is quite good personal advertising.

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

Never mind all that, what did Taft's palm say?

Imagine that, someone faking palmistry (how could you even tell).

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

Pastrami sandwiches??? Make me an offer I can't refuse!

"Oofty-magoofty"

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

Better not sit too close to the hatch, hon.

"We could go back and look for her." "And be late delivering these supplies to needy people." "You're right."

 

[Harp]

I have Nostalgia Press' Golden Age of Comics release ''Meet Burma,'' which serialized
Terry and The Pirates December 1935-August 1936 run blonde babe Burms introduction.
She and Pat Ryan had a long continuous row but were obviously genuinely fascinated with
each other. It's no small wonder why Milt seemingly trapsed off across this Heatherstone-Smythe
mercurial tangent leaving readership confused over loose ends.

 

[LizzieMaine]

It would make me very happy if the last Caniff strip has Burma, Cap'n Blaze, Connie and Stoop, Hu Shee,. April Kane, the Dragon Lady, and Pat Ryan flying off in a plane while Charlie and Terry get held up at the airport gate.

 

[Harp]

Terry and The Pirates is firmly embedded within early childhood memory, my mother
read the strip to me with Dondi at my request; also caught snippets years later when
Terry was a USAF colonel, seeming in Southeast Asia. I haven't any character biographic background, nor old cast detail to speak of; so, Caniff's elusive trapse leaving much unsettled past alone is disappointing. Pat & Burma might have wed; Terrence returned CONUS for college on the GI Bill; Dragon Gal st least putting in an appearance.... Some sort of wrap party is definitely needed to properly tie the bow.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("So what we have in mind," continues Mr. Sobol, leaning forward in his swivel chair as Rosa twitches nervously, Shirley Blick takes careful notes in a stenographer's pad, and Joe gazes out into the expanse of Rockefeller Plaza, "is a contract. We would feature you from time to time in various television presentations, and perhaps also now and then on radio." "What would I do awna radio?" puzzles Rosa. "I rolleh skate." "And Edgar Bergen's a ventriloquist," shrugs Sobol. "And nobody cares if they can't see him, because he's funny. He's got personality. Several, in fact. And you, Miss Capiello, have personality." "Ain' people gonna get sicka me?" questions Rosa. "Doin'a same t'ing ev'ry time?" "Who says," rejoinds Sobol, "you have to do the same thing. When you were on our show before you showed you can think fast. That's important. You could do jokes, gags. Or other things. Can you sing? Play an instrument? Can you dance?" "A lit'l," offers Rosa. "I useta dance," injects Joe, as Sobol regards him quizzically. "Me'n my wife, we can teach'eh a few tricks." "On your own time, of course," nods Sobol, as Shirley frowns. He slides a sheet across his desk. "We are prepared to offer," he elaborates, "a payment of twelve dollars per performance on any program we may designate, including rehearsal time, and..." "*Including* rehearsal time?" interrupts Shirley. "In other words, she gets twelve dollars whether she has to work two hours or two days?" "Excuse me," smiles Sobol, holding up a palm. "How old are you, honey?" "Sixteen," glares Shirley, her eyes flashing. "You aren't old enough to sign a contract," chuckles Sobol, "let alone negotiate one. Now, as I was..." "*I* ain't sixteen," scowls Joe. "Shoiley, g'head wit' whatcha was sayin'...")

("You're a friend of hers," wheedles the manager of the Rogers Avenue Bohack's. "Talk to 'eh. Tell'eh I need 'eh back." "She ain' got no time f'no smawl time opehration like t'is," sneers Bink Scanlan. "She's goin' inna show business. She's awn television!" "Television!?" erupts the manager. "She don't know how t' rassle!")

("Awright," growls Solly. "I gotta go tawk t' t'ese Wawr Assets people, fill in some papehwoik. So heehs what we'eh gonna do. Yawr gonna go upta Penn Station an' ya gonna pick up Lowrey when'ee gets in, an' ya gonna check 'im in t' t'at room I 'ranged fawr, an'nen ya gonna bring'im heeh. I know how lawng it takes t' get t' Penn Station an' I know when'na train gets in, I know how lawng it's gonna take t' get t' t' hotel, an' I know how lawng it's gonna take t'get back'eeh. Y'see t'is watch? If ya five minutes late..." He punctuates his warning with a slash of a finger across his throat. "Ahhhh," stammers Uncle Frank...)

(Try living in a tourist town.)

(They don't call him "Ducky" because he knows how to get out of the way...)

(Have you ever been tested for tuberculosis?)

("AND I CARRY TWEEZERS!")

("But I don't hug 'em all...")

(Had to get "voluptuous" in there, dincha?)

(See, this is why road maintenance is a waste of good money.)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

I dunno, I kinda figured Gertie for a lapsed Congregationalist.

"My hands are getting raw from all this solvent," complains Mr. Parrott. "But I cleaned it all off the wall." "There were no further statements inscribed?" interrogates Mr. Rickey. "Nothing concerning that -- ah -- infielder, that impertinent Basque?" "Who?" frowns Mr. Parrott. "Oh, him. No, but since you bring him up, he's doing well in San Diego, and..." "That will be all," dismisses Mr. Rickey, selecting a fresh cigar and reaching for a match. "NO!!!!" erupts Mr. Parrott, his eyes wild with terror. He shakes his hands. "The fumes! You'll blow up the whole building!" "Ah," concedes Mr. Rickey. "We wouldn't want that. Rents, my boy, in this part of the borough, are entirely unreasonable..."

At least let her toss the bouquet first...

"So -- haystack?" "Thought you'd never ask..."

More to the point, why is Harold dressed like a chorus boy in a Maurice Chevalier movie?

So much of life is based on whose foot you kiss.

Molech hath no fury like...

"You don't just understand! I wasn't dumb old Wormy from the block -- I was a lieutenant commander!"

This is turning into the setup for a five-year-old Jimmy Cagney picture.

When life assigns you to a role, play it.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Worker...

Out in Cleveland, Mr. William Veeck Jr. says "hmmmm...."

 

[Fading Fast]

"*I* ain't sixteen," scowls Joe. "Shoiley, g'head wit' whatcha was sayin'..."

Perfect, Joe, just perfect.

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

He punctuates his warning with a slash of a finger across his throat. "Ahhhh," stammers Uncle Frank...

Buy him out now, Solly. You are going places and you're wasting too much time managing this small-time hustler. It'll be the cheapest money you ever spend.

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

"AND I CARRY TWEEZERS!"

It's an early call, but I'll bet Brick is the one you want. I'll bet she's the keeper.

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

At least let her toss the bouquet first...

I'm guessing there's something else they'd rather do first.

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

This is turning into the setup for a five-year-old Jimmy Cagney picture.

 

[Harp]

The Sotelo-Mascau war bride tale warms my coffee this morning.

...unlike today's Terrence, which is annoying this lifelong; yet incurable romantic ******* bachelor.