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The Era -- Day By Day

LizzieMaine

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@LizzieMaine

"Wopowog"

"Finest American-Jewish cuisine"

What's that, please??
"Wopowog" is an approximatiion of an Indian word for "at the crossing place," used in various place names around the northeastern US. It was also traditional to give summer camps Indian names to suggest a certain rustic authenticity.

The "American-Jewish cusiine" would be mostly Ashkenazi dishes, but with an Americanized slant -- the sort of food you might get in a Jewish neighborhood in Brooklyn, in other words. It doesn't necessarily imply that kosher was strictly kept, but it does imply that Jewish campers are welcome at a time when many vacation places, especially in WASPy places like Connecticut, were "restricted."
 

LizzieMaine

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Location
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The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_1944_07_19_1.jpg

("Truman?" snorts Sally. "None f'me, t'anks! Gimme Wallace! He's a man STAN'S f'sump'n!" "I hate politics," sighs Alice. "Politics neveh done nut'n f'me." "T't'ing wit'tis Truman," continues Sally, "he's one'a t'ese whatchacawla machine pawlitician! You know, like Tammany Hawl. Like awlese wawrd heelehs you see goin' 'roun election time, kissin' babies. Y'remembeh t'at time some wawrd heeleh tried t'kiss Leonoreh an' she popped 'im onna beezeh? Oh yeh, t'eh out t'eh heavy, buyin' people drinks, slappin'm onna back, gett'n'out t'vote. "Oh yeh," nods Alice. "Like Uncle Frank." "Nah," shrugs Sally. "Uncle Frank's jus' one'a t'ese frien'ly guys, like fr'm t' Frien'ly Sons a' St. Patrick. He ain' no wawrd heeleh. But t'is Truman characteh, can'cha jus' see him slappin' ya onna back?" "He'd need a stepladdeh," snickers Alice. "An' you said," chuckles Sally, "you hated politics.")

Guam, which fell to the Japanese four days after Pearl Harbor, became the most heavily battered enemy position in the Pacific today, with America's largest naval vessels joining carrier aircraft in the "softening-up" bombardment of the island. The 225 square miles of the former U. S. Naval Station have been the target of eight warship bombardments, three of them by battleships, and 18 carrier attacks since the Marianas campaign began on June 10th.

A fleet of more than a thousand British bombers rocked the Germans from Berlin to the French battlefront, while the Berlin radio reported that American bombers flying from bases in Britain and Italy launched an attack today on Munich. A dispatch from the DNB News Agency reported that American formations were engaged over the Bavarian capital, but gave no further details of the fighting.

The once-ample supply of wines and liquors that flowed freely in Normandy has dried up since the Invasion, according to restaurant-keepers in Bayeux. "Your troops have drunk everything we had," explained the operator of a restaurant on the road between Cherbourg and Bayeux. "We ourselves," she continued, "are drinking water. Can you imagine it?"

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(Listen -- the whirlwind!)

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("Oh, and throw in something about me needing a B card. It couldn't hurt!")

Attendance at the Central Park Zoo is up 20 percent since Soc the Polar Bear ripped off the arm of a young society woman who, after an evening of nightclubbing, broke into his enclosure with three friends and baited him with her handkerchief. Zoo officials say the polar bear exhibit has seen plenty of curiosity from onlookers wanting to see Soc since the newspapers made him famous. The bear, keepers say, has resumed his normal docility. The woman, 24 year old Catherine Searles of Rahway, New Jersey, is listed today in good condition at Roosevelt Hospital after doctors amputated the remaining stump of her arm at the shoulder.

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(PS -- WHY ISN'T MUSIAL IN THE ARMY???)

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(Hey, Dennie's a surly teenager now! This'll be fun!)

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(Careful, Mr. Tuthill -- remember what happened to Harold Gray.)

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(Never buy extinguishers at Davega.)

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("Oh yeah?" -- Frank Sinatra.)

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(WITH MATCHLESS COURAGE AMERICA'S NUMBER ONE HERO DOG LEAPS INTO ACTION)
 

LizzieMaine

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Messages
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Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
And in the Daily News...

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"This all started as a gag." Well, you've got to commit to the bit.

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The horoscope ad is a nice touch.

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"Another one? I TOLD him to sign up for Blue Cross!"

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So you're saying this story is going to run thru Halloween?

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Awwwwww.

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"HA HA, THAT BO IS SUCH A DOPE." "CUT! Will somebody tell the mutt to stop grinning!"

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The OPA has eyes everywhere!

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Science doesn't advance without experimentation.

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Take that, soda slingers!

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Aw, they shot the monkey!
 

LizzieMaine

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Messages
33,760
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_1944_07_20_1.jpg

("'J'ivver get th' feelin'," ponders Uncle Frank as he scans an inky-smelling copy of the Eagle, just peeled off the top of a newly delivered bundle, "that soomthin's aboot t'happen?" "Hmph," hmphs Ma, as she tosses the bundle into the rack. "Soomthin's ahhlways aboot t'happen. An'," she adds as they reenter the store, "ye owe me three cents f'that paparr." "Poot it on me tab," chuckles Uncle Frank. "An' a two cents plain besides, if ye please." "Gonna roon me oota business, Francis Leary," grumbles Ma as the seltzer unfurls into the glass. "If ye ever pay me what ye --" But her thought is interrupted by the jingling of the phone. "Get that, will ye?" gestures Ma. "Lieb's," answers Uncle Frank, the receiver to his ear. "Oh! Yes, we'll accept. Poot 'im thru." He covers the mouthpiece with his palm and mouths a single word. "Joseph!?" blurts Ma. "Hello?" continues Uncle Frank. "Joe! No, Sally's not here yet, she don't usually coom by 'till aaahfter six. What??? T'marra marnin'! So soon?" "Give it here, Francis, give it here," commands Ma, bustling around the counter to grab the receiver. She shoves Uncle Frank away from the wall, and aims the mouthpiece down to fit her height. "Joseph!" she interjects. "It's me, Ma. Oh, foine, foine -- listen here, what's haapenin' t'marra? Oh. Well, d'ye know what pier? Oh, no, I understand, ye can't be too careful. No. But can ye caahl back, ooh, in about an hour? Sally will -- oh. I see. Well -- wait." She covers the mouthpiece. "Francis!" she orders. "Go get Leonora, bring 'er down here, will ye." Uncle Frank nods, and heads for the stairs. "Oi'm gonna poot Leonora on farr ye, Joseph," she resumes. "Boot are ye SURE ye caaan't -- Oi know, Oi know, loose lips an' aaahl that. It's just that Sally wanted to -- Oi understand, boot --" "Here she is, Nora," interrupts Uncle Frank, with his stepgranddaughter hoisted on his hip. "Joseph!" says Ma. "Oi'm puttin' ye daaaughter on. Go ahead, darlin,' Oi'll hold this here an' ye taahlk roit in..." "Know howta usea phone," frowns Leonora. "H'lo?" Her eyes widen at the sound of her father's voice. "PA!" she squeals. "You come home!? Oh. Uh-huh. Yeh. Uh-huh. Oh yeh. Uh-huh. I will. I will. An' Stellla too? I will. An' A'nt Alice an' Unca Krause, an' A'n't an' Unca Ginsboig -- uh huh. Jus' evr'ybody. Uh huh. I will, Pa. I do too. He say," she adds, turning to her grandmother, "put you on." "Oi'm here Joseph," Ma resumes. "Oh yes, Oi'm sure she understands. Oi'll be sure to tell her. Yes. You bettar. Oi waant ye hoom in woon piece. I do too, Joseph, Oi think ye know. Ahhl roit then." Uncle Frank interrupts, gesturing for a chance to say a final word. "Ahhl roit, here's Francis again." "Joe, me boy," he inserts. "Ye remembarr what Oi told ye now. Oh, Oi know ye woon't but even a cook's gaahta know hoowta defend 'imself. Heh, roit! Joost remembarr -- don't close ye oyes, an' squeeze, don't pull. Ye got it. That's roit. I will. Take caer'a ye own self, me boy. I will. Good bye, lad -- and good luck t'ye." He gently replaces the receiver on the hook, and turns to Ma. "That's it, then?" she sighs. "He'll be back," reassures Uncle Frank. He gazes at the paper on the counter. "Sooner, gaahd willin', than ye think.")

Hastily retreating Germans fell back across the Arno River before Pisa today, as American troops of the 5th Army under Lt. General Mark Clark established a 25-mile front along the south bank of the river nine miles north of Livorno. The Germans put up only small arms resistance and light artillery fire as they fled northward so rapidly that the Americans were barely able to keep up contact with the rear guards.

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(What, no comics?)

Police will question all civilian men under the age of 65 who enter Police Department buildings in order to determine their draft status. Commissioner Lewis J. Valentine clarified that policy yesterday after rumors circulated that city police were to begin stopping men on the street and demanding to see their draft cards. Under the order, any man between the ages of 18 and 38 who cannot produce a draft card when entering a department building will be held for Federal authorities.

Robot bomb attacks on London continued last night at their heaviest levels yet, with raids on London and the southern counties continuing into the daylight hours. It is believed the robots are being launched from bases in the Netherlands.

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(There's a new world coming -- but it won't come without a fight.)

Although certain stocks of prewar or odd-sized footwear have been released for sale without ration stamps, shoe rationing in general will remain in effect indefinitely. OPA officials note that military demands are still drawing heavily on the supply of available leather, and the situation is complicated by a continuing manpower shortage in the shoe manufacturing industry.

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("One day, ahhhh, one day, I'll have them by the throats again...")

An East Flatbush woman who has borne 17 children over 24 years of marriage withdrew charges that her husband had beaten her. Mrs. Philomena Mandelino of 660 Midwood Street had taken a night job in a hospital to support the family, charging that not only had her husband John Mandelino beaten her, but that he refused to hold a steady job. But yesterday in Flatbush Court she dropped the charges after Mandelino promised to reform. Magistrate James A. Blancfield warned Mandelino that he had better do so.

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("HAH!" sneers Sally."ANOT'EH secon' baseman! An' Petey's havin' a swell yeeh wit t' Pittsboigs." "Pooeh Mickey Owen," sighs Alice. "Leas' t'ey didn't put no arrow.")

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("Well, I'd admit it could use some brightening up. But all you can get now is Kem-Tone.")

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(Lithium Bromide, George. It'll do wonders.)

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(A good reporter always stands around with his hands in his pockets.)

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(I hope Scarlet remembered to join AGVA.)

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(AMERICA'S NUMBER ONE HERO DOG never waits around to be thanked.)
 

LizzieMaine

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Location
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And in the Daily News...

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"Interrogated for any reason." "Hey Mister, did you drop that gum wrapper? Let's see your draft card!"

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Tick tick tick tick tick tick tick...

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"I don't HAVE a telephone! And have you seen the line at the candy store?"

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Looks like Walt took that editorial about summer menswear to heart.

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SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

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Hey, a new gig for Kay and Mae!

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"CUT! Tell the dog he needs to stay in the shot!"

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"All in a day's work." -- Burma.

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"All except Pantywaist here!" "THAT'S IT -- I'm taking a job as a background extra with Caniff!"

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In a week he'll be running the place.
 
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Location
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"CUT! Tell the dog he needs to stay in the shot!"

"I went to get the stunt dog after I heard the word 'dynamite' - read my contract."
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*********************************************************************

"All except Pantywaist here!" "THAT'S IT -- I'm taking a job as a background extra with Caniff!"

Don't blame him one bit.
 

LizzieMaine

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Messages
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Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_1944_07_21_1.jpg

("If t'ey'd gott'im," fumes Sally, "If t'ey'd GOT t' bast'ehd, I bet t'ey'd toin aroun'at boat Joe's on an' sennit back home. An' it'd awl be oveh. Awlis stupid mess'd be oveh. Gawdammit!" She flings the paper to the floor of the train and tries not to sob. Alice shakes her head in acknowledgement. "T'ez boys in Brownsville," she sighs, "wouldn'a missed.")

Japan's senior military leaders, designated by Emperor Hirohito to form a new government, were reported to be making progress today in replacing the fallen regime of Gen. Hideki Tojo, although no definite decisions have been announced. The official Domei news agency, quoting a statement released by Cabinet Information Headquarters, stated that today's conference "proceeded very smoothly and earnestly," but had yet to reach any decisions.

Eight men were in custody yesterday for failure to produce draft cards on demand, one of them being Harry Bode Jr., who was reported missing by his father from their home in Glendale last November 16th after he failed to return from an errand. Bode, who was only fifteen at the time, had wanted to join the Merchant Marine, but his parents had refused to give their permission. Early this morning patrolmen from the Juvenile Aid Bureau spotted the youth emerging from a theatre on 43rd Street near 8th Avenue in Manhattan, and, because he appeared to be old enough to be registered for the draft, the patrolment demanded to see his card. The boy explained that he had hitchhilked to Texas last fall, and had worked as a painter before moving on to Denver, Colorado. When his employer there went broke, he hitched back to New York, arriving last night. Police were unable to contact his parents, who are believed to be away on vacation, and the youth is presently being held at the Lebanon Shelter in the Bronx.

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(Coming Events Cast Their Shadows Before...)

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("Yes," affirms Uncle Frank, pushing back from the table and delicately dabbing a morsel of pork chop from the corner of his lips with his napkin, "we shoud goo out t'noit an' take in a pictcharr shoow. Thar's some foine shows playin'." "Oi do want t'see that woon thar, 'Since Ye Went Away," but Oi don't crave at'all t'goo inta th' City t'see it. Wait'll it plays loocal," demurs Ma. "Oh," insists Uncle Frank, "Oi wasn't suggestin'. Oi had more in moind we go ovarr to th' Patio. They got Charles Boyay tharr, Nora, you knooow how ye loike Charles Boyay." "Ah," nods Ma, her eyes narrowing. "Oi walked past th' Patio this marrnin'. Oi seen what th' soin oot front says. Oi seen th' name'a th' secon' feature. 'Caaaaaahsanoova oov Barrrlesque.'" "Oh," nods Uncle Frank, flaring his nonchalant. "Th' divvil ye say. Is thaaat shooowin' too?")

The Eagle Editorialist observes that the plot on Hitler's life, even though it failed, hints strongly at the approaching collapse of Nazi Germany. "It was good to know," he declares, "that some of the Fuehrer's enemies in the Reich had scraped up enough courage to hatch and carry out an assassination plot, even though their would-be victim is alive and only slightly hurt." But the EE also argues that a simple death by assassination would be a denial of justice. "In our opinion," he asserts, "such an end would be too good for the arch-criminal who, above all others, is responsible for this terrible war that has spread, and is spreading, death and destruction all over the world." Acknowledging that some believe "this megalomaniac will commit suicide" rather than face being taken alive, the EE nonetheless hopes that the near future will find Hitler standing in the Allies' dock to answer before the world for all his crimes.

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(Oh, he probably suspects.)

Mildred Harris, former screen actress and first wife of Charlie Chaplin died in Hollywood yesterday at the age of 43 from complications related to an abdominal operation ten days ago. Miss Harris, once one of the highest paid stars of the silent screen, met Chaplin when she was working in a New York bookstore at the age of fifteen, and married him a year later over the objections of her mother. Two years later she filed for divorce, declaring that while Chaplin was "a one hundred percent comedian, he is a one half of one percent husband." Her screen career collapsed with the coming of talking pictures, but she attempted a comeback several years ago, beginning with a tour on the strip tease circuit. She was beginning to receive bit parts again in pictures when illness intervened.

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(Well, if they're bound for the cellar, they might as well have a lot of garbage piled around.)

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(Yeah, well, you're not much to look at yourself, lady.)

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(I KNOW I'M MENTALLY OKAY!)

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(Tubby also took that menswear editorial to heart.)

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("The one bad feature of this business is all the money I spent on matching bra-and-panty sets.")

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("Oh well, good thing we're bonded.")
 

LizzieMaine

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Messages
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Location
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Yeah, lot goin' on.

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Oh, a LOVE pirate. Gotta say I'm kinda disappointed....

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Oh yes, it's GOT to work.

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"Blup!"

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Micah 4:4.

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And with a single nip from the mandibles of a single tiny spider, suddenly it was all over...

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"Police report no leads in the case of Walter W. Wallet, furniture executive, reported missing since last Friday by his wife..."

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"And as such, my constitution has plenty of room for amendments..."

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The key to getting ahead in life? Always walk right in like you own the place.

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"Wow, it's Katherine Hepburn!"
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,760
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_1944_07_22_1.jpg

("I neveh even got t'say g'bye," laments Sally, flipping a pebble into 63rd Street as she takes in the early evening air from the front stoop. "Izzat faieh?" "Fair," nods Mrs. Ginsburg, taking a seat next to her. "What's fair, in this world? I ask? I remember when it was my boy's time to go, my oldest, the lawyer. 'Why him?' I ask. 'Will they sue Hitler?' I ask? And Mendel says to me, he says 'they will need lawyers, after the war, for trials. Maybe our boy will be. Maybe our boy will be part of it.'" "Yeh," nods Sally, gazing out at Leonora writing on the sidewalk with her chunk of brick. "An'ney need cooks too. I jus' wish I coulda said g'bye. I ain' gonna see 'im again til it's oveh, y'know. Befoeh, y'know, I c'd awrways say 'well, he'll come home on leave a'sump'n. But t'is is f'keeps, y'know? He's goin' oveh t'eh an'nee ain' comin' back til it's oveh. An' I jus' wish I coulda said g'bye. I seen'im las' Sunday, y'know. Me'n Leonoreh wen' out t' Joisey an' had lunch wit' him an'is sisteh. I couldn' say what I wan'ed t'say wit'eh sittin'eh. Y'know what was t'las' t'ing I said was be'foeh he got onna bus backta camp? 'Y'gotta piece'a loose t'read onya sleeve t'eh, wheh ya sewed on'nem stripes. Lemme fix it.' An' I pulled it awff." There is a long silence, broken only by the muffled sound of an argument on the upper floor of a nearby building. "You still got, am I right?" queries Mrs. Ginsburg. "The thread, I mean, the thread you pulled. You still got?" "Yeh," replies Sally with a sheepish smile. "I still got.")

Brooklyn delegates to the Democratic National Convention, just concluded in Chicago, lined up fully in support of Senator Harry S. Truman of Missouri as President Roosevelt's running mate, with the delegation under the leadership of Kings County Democratic leader Frank V. Kelly all casting their support to Truman when the delegates were polled -- putting up a solid line, even though Tammany delegates and other New York State Democratic units split their votes between Truman and Vice President Henry Wallace. The Kelly group swung its support to Truman within a day of its arrival in Chicago, and remained firm thru all the debate that followed. Delegates are packing up today for their return home, with the Brooklyn delegation due back tomorrow.

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(Nobody likes a snitch.)

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("Funny how when we have lima beans, the crime rate drops!")

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(This housing shortage is really something. You can't even have a cellar to yourself.)

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(Betty Grable -- with glasses? How will they recognize her?)

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("And make it REAL VENETIAN! If it comes from Bayonne, I'll know!")

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("A plumber," chuckles Uncle Frank.)

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(Ahhhh, the crooked fire extinguisher racket!)

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(Just go with it, OK?)

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(WWTD! WHAT WOULD TRIX DO??)
 

LizzieMaine

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Messages
33,760
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
And in the Daily News...

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"NO PICTURES, DAD! I TOLD YOU NO PICTURES!"

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If only AMERICA'S NUMBER ONE HERO DOG had been there to stop them!

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"On the prim side." She even buttoned her blouse.

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Chess is a wonderful game.

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Establishing a line's one thing -- holding it is quite another.

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Well, you know how hard it is to get an electric shake mixer?

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In the doorway, Panel Three -- is that -- could it possibly BE????

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Hey, where can I get one of those???

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"Ahh, I keep telling him not to see those zombie movies..."

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The key to maintaining upper-body strength is a program of regular exercise.
 
Messages
17,217
Location
New York City
Fun trivia fact: Tom Harmon and Elyse Knox' son is the actor Mark Harmon.

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

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An easier solution might be to find a different family as role model.
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,760
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
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("Foist I see you," sighs Sally, as Leonora investigates a portable typewriter placed enticingly on the floor of Dr. Minkoff's observation room, "an'nen I see Docteh Levine. Seem's awl I do on my day awff is see doctehs." She exhales deeply. "Oh well," she concludes, "I got nut'n but time." Leonora pecks experimentally at the typewriter keys and observes with fascination the motion of the machine. "I been wonderin' 'bout sump'n," Sally resumes, as Dr. Minkoff makes a note in his little book. "Leonoreh said sump'n t'me yestehday. You know she spen's t'day at my ma's canny stoeh while I'm woikin'? Well, y'know, she gets awl excited whenna newspapehs come in, she spens a lotta time lookin'm oveh, right? Well, las' night, we'eh gett'n ready f'bed, an' she says t'me, outta t'blue, 'Ma, what's ex-ec-u-ted?' See, t'at was onna fron' page'a t'Eagle las' night a' sump'n, an' she seen it, you know, 'bout Hitleh killin' one'a t'ese gen'r'ls tried'a blow 'im up. An' -- y'know, I dunno what t'say. So I say to 'eh, I say 'well, 'at's sump'nat happn's t'people sometimes inna wawr.' An' she looks up at me an' says 'Is Pa gonna get ex-ec-u-ted?" An' -- well, I hadda go inna bat'room t'eh, t'get control'a myself." "Ah," replies Dr. Minkoff. "I mean," Sally continues, "what'm I s'posta say? Awlis stuff goin' awn, she's loinin' too fast, y'know? Howd'ya 'splain to a kid 'bout robot bombs? How'd'ya 'splain to a kid 'bout --awlem people gett'n killed in -- camps? How? I ask ya!" Dr. Minkoff shifts uncomfortably in his chair. "Well," he ventures, "you could say -- ah -- that sometimes bad things happen in the world, but you will always be there to protect her and keep her safe, and..." "Yeh," interrupts Sally. "But what if I -- can't protect 'eh. I was read'na ot'eh day 'bout t'em robot t'ings. What if Hitleh figyehs out howta send'm crawsta Atlan'ic? You know who he's gonna aim at foist, don'cha? Right heeh, New Yawrk City. How'm I gonna protect'eh fr'm t'at? W'eh we gonna go, downa basemen'? Downa subway? You t'ink if t'ez robot bombs flyin' oveh heeh, seven million people gonna go downa subway? We gonna fight'm awf wit' stirrup pumps? Huh? What'm I s'posta say??" Dr. Minkoff takes off his glasses, and gazes thru the window at Leonora. "I don't know," he acknowledges. "I wish I did. But I just don't know...")

American doughboys drove up the Tyrrhenian coast today to within four miles of Pisa, western anchor of the Nazi Gothic Line, while other units advanced 4 1/2 miles along the road to Florence to within 14 miles of that Italian rail center. Battling toward Pisa, the Americans encountered large numbers of circular concrete pillboxes placed at strategic road junctions and behind sharp curves from which "stand or die" Nazi units fired automatic weapons from narrow slits.

Planes of the 14th American Air Force ranged the skies of Hunan Province today in slashing attacks against Japanese positions and supply lines, and Chinese forces outside Hengyang slugged their way forward to new positions in an effort to relieve the trapped and weakening garrison within the city. Forty miles to the south, in the Leiyang area, the Chinese again drove the enemy back to the north to free more of the bitterly contested rail route to Canton. Today's communique from the Chinese Command indicated that the main fighting is still concentrated south of that city.

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(Mr. Schroth rarely signs his name to an article, and now two in the past week? Something's up.)

Reader Nicholas Joseph Flood writes in to declare that Brooklynites have only themselves to blame for the many jokes that go around about the borough and its citizens. He notes that the recent best-seller "A Tree Grows In Brooklyn," purporting to represent life in Williamsburg twenty years ago, "reflects no great credit on Brooklyn," and he wonders why the author found it necessary to "conjure up such a sordid picture of a great city?" Such a writer might instead write of "the charm of Brooklyn Heights, with its stately old brownstone mansions, reminiscent of a mode of living in the grand manner that is gone and will never be known again in this country."

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("The Goats of the Gowanus." Well, at least he didn't call them "Bums." Oh, and just so you know, Petey went two for five, including a double and a stolen base, and scored three runs. That ought to cheer Sally up.)

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(Ah, rodeos. A savage business.)

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(I can't understand why a star of Bugs' caliber is slumming in this strip, but it's very obvious why Porky is.)

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(Is that Lincoln, or Raymond Massey *as* Lincoln? So hard to tell.)

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(Well, they can't all dress up like a bat and fight crime.)

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(Cheer up, hon -- after all Mary Worth started out with an apple cart, and look at her now!)

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(Yep, Uncle Joe's tobacco of choice was Edgeworth Ready-Rubbed, with which he was supplied by American diplomats, but when he couldn't get it, he did like my grandfather and sifted the tobacco out of broken cigarettes.)

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(These are hard times for comedy relief.)
 

LizzieMaine

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And in the Daily News...

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Miss Dare, or Her Ladyship, or however you want to call her, was a minor film performer of the late teens and twenties, who also dabbled a bit on the stage before devoting herself to matrimonial adventures. Her birth name was "Frances Arms," but that doesn't quite cut it on Page Four.

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And the Dodgers finished third, and we were happy to get it...

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"If only he had some sort of distinctive physical feature by which we might recognize him..."

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Yes, in panel nine, Punj does indeed slice their heads off, neat as you please. Oh, how I've missed him.

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Actually, a dog will come in handy in this house.

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"Let's do it again!"

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Whoa! Hey, can we drop all that dumb haunted house junk and have THIS be the weekday story too?

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THERE'S A WAR ON! NO HAPPINESS ALLOWED!

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Once a Pantywaist, always a Pantywaist.

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Ahhh, he's used to it all by now.
 

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