The Era -- Day By Day

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

A decade ago, Miss Lawlor was a rising star on Broadway. Most recently she's been making "Soundies," cheap musical film shorts made to be shown on coin-operated viewing machines. It's a savage business.

Mr. Alfred D. McKelvy is the founder and president of the company that manufactures the Seaforth line of after-shave lotions, talcum powders, and men's colognes. And right after Jimmy took this photo, Mr. McKelvy handed him a free sample.

Shaky uses after-shave too, but he splatters it all over his clothes.

It just CAWN'T.

If Sally and Alice joined the WACs...

"Don't look at me, lady, I'm not the one that married him."

Back on the saltpeter for you, kid.

Ah, the puppetmaster pulls a string...

Hmph, my show-biz relative just played the drums.

 

[LizzieMaine]

Oh, and...

So I guess "Whit Wyatt Day" is out too?

 

[Fading Fast]

Mr. Alfred D. McKelvy is the founder and president of the company that manufactures the Seaforth line of after-shave lotions, talcum powders, and men's colognes. And right after Jimmy took this photo, Mr. McKelvy handed him a free sample.

That makes sense as, otherwise, his comment was a bit wacky.

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"'Smelly old dog.' Let me at her; let me at her!"

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"I've never told a soul except you, but Wilmer never showed me any affection."

One, did she just say what I think she just said? And, two, if she did and if it's true, she has one of the few grounds that existed for an annulment.

 

[LizzieMaine]

I would doubt that Wilmer even knows how to show any affection. Even Senga would have nothing there to work with.

 

[Fading Fast]

I would doubt that Wilmer even knows how to show any affection. Even Senga would have nothing there to work with.

Agree, and she should use that as an out from that marriage.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("So whoozis gal Bink Scanlan?" queries Sally, as she and Alice settle into their seats for the ride to Jersey. "I met 'eh t'ot'eh day, Ma says she's a frienda yez." "Oh," ohs Alice, not expecting to come up with an explanation so soon. "Yeh," she replies noncommitally. "How's she a friend'a yez?" continues Sally. "Neveh hoidja mention nobody name'a Bink Scanlan." "Oh -- umm --- uh..." offers Alice, her mind racing, "she's -- uh -- somebody I know fr'm way back. Yeh. Um, yeh." "Ah," ahs Sally, beginning to suspect that something might be going on. "Way back weh?" she interrogates. "Oh, you know," sweats Alice, with a diffident flip of her hand, "back t'eh, um, when I was -- uh -- at t' home, yeh. Wit' t' sistehs. Yeh. Me'n Bink was like t'at, yeh, befoeh I, you know, run awf." "Ah," nods Sally. She settles back in her seat, and Alice exhales with relief that the matter seems to have dropped. "Howcome t'ey call 'eh 'Bink?'" Sally resumes, as the conductor punches her commuter ticket. "Oh," ohs Alice, passing her own ticket across. "Um, well..." "Wha'sseh right name?" queries Sally, her eyes narrowing. "Nobody's right name is 'Bink." "Oh," ohs Alice. "Well..." "Hey lady," interrupts the conductor. "Whezzya ticket? You gimme a -- whassis, anyway, a pass t' t' RKO Dykeh?" "OH!" blurts Alice, glad for the respite. "Um, sawry, lemme fin' it..." She rummages in her bag while Sally frowns impatiently. "Heeh'tis," Alice continues, thrusting her ticket across her seatmate. The conductor gives her a look, punches, and moves on. "Hey Sal," she fumbles, "y'seen'at pitcheh t'eh? 'A Wing anna Prayeh," wit' Don Ameche? Me'n Siddy wenta see it, we gawt passes 'cause Siddy helped 'em fix'eh berleh one time. Swell pitcheh." "Ah," ahs Sally. "Y'know, it;s funny," she observes. "Y'lookit'at Bink Scanlan you could sweah she ain' no moeh'n twenny-two, twenny-t'ree yeehs ol'." "Really?" squeaks Alice. "I neveh noticed." "Yeh," nods Sally. The train bumps on in silence for a few welcome moments. "Y'know what else is kin'a funny?" resumes Sally. "Um, y'know who I t'ink is funny?" interrupts Alice, her face flushed. "Jerry Colonna, t'at's who. T'at moustache he's gawt.." "What's funny," continues Sally, "izzat din'choo tell me you run away from t'home when you was, what, ten yeehs ol'? T'at woulda been, what, 1917, 1918, somwhez inneh?" "Um," swallows Alice, wiping a trickle of sweat from her forehead. "I bet," harumphs Sally, "she uses 'at Endocreme stuff onneh face. Y'know, I been usin'at junk f' two mont's now, an' *I* don' look no twenny-two yeehs ol'." "It takes a while," exhales Alice. "I guess so," sighs Sally.)

Armored forces of the 3rd White Russian Division swung south of the main rail line to Koenigsberg today in a flanking drive around the East Prussian communications center of Gumbinnen. One column of Soviet forces, meeting stronger resistance as they plunged deeper into the German province, struck within five miles southeast of Gumbinnen in capturing the road junction of Grunweitschen.

("Well, Oi don't knowww," sighs Uncle Frank, gazing down at a paper form on the counter before him. "Whoot's that now?" queries Ma, biting down on a suspicious nickel and tossing it with distaste into the wastebasket after discovering it to be lead. "Oi went doontown," explains Uncle Frank, "ann Oi picked up this farrrrrm." "Declaration oov Intention," reads Ma. "Yaaar serious aboot this citizenship thing, aaar ye?" "Well, Oi dunno," shrugs Uncle Frank. "Tharr's a loota questions ahhn here aboot how laaang I been in this coountry, sooch as that." "Ahhhhhh." ahs Ma, knowingly. "Annnnd a' carrse, me nivver exactly gooin' thru th' proparr channels whin Oi come ovarr here," he continues, "thar moit be a bit oov...." "Oi told'jee," admonishes Ma. "Tharr's soom things best lef' to lyin." "Oi mean, it isn't MOI faalt I nivver stopped at Ellis Oisland," protests Uncle Frank. "They nivver HAD no Ellis Oisland thin. Th' boot took ye oot t'Staten Oislan' whin Oi coom ovar, shoo'd ye to a doctarr, makin' sure ye didn' have noothin' contagious, an', well, me bein' joosta little boy an' aaahl, Oi guess Oi joost slipped away befarr they knew Oi was missin'!" "So ye say," shrugs Ma. "Can ye IMAGINE?" chuckles Uncle Frank. "A mere lad, skoolkin' aroon th' woods'a Staten Oislan'. Took me two weeks t'figyar oot how ta' get ahffa thar!" "Ye was woona the faaartunate woons," snickers Ma. "Tharr's poor sools oot thar yet that dooon't know how!")

("Whassamatteh?" queries Joe. "We been stawpped'eeh f'twenny minutes!" "Truck done run oota gas," grumbles the Corporal. "Boys up frunt sayin' thuh damfool gas line done sprung a leak." "Rub a bawr'a soap awn it," suggests Joe. "Whassat now?" questions the Corporal. "Rub a bawr'a soap awn it," Joe repeats. "I loin'tat fr'm Uncle Frank. He's gawt t'is ol' truck, right, ti's ol' bangeh, an' it's awrways springin' leaks. He keeps'is bawr a soap, yelleh laundry soap, right? He keeps it undeh t'seat, an' when'na tank stawrts leakin', he rubs'at soap onneh, an'nat stawps it cold. Sweahteh gawd." "Laundry soap, huh?" frowns the Corporal. "Yeh," nods Joe. "Do *AH*," the Corporal scowls, indicating his filthy uniform, "look like AH got a bahrra yelluh laundry soap?" "Oh," sighs Joe. "Yelluh laundry soap," fumes the Corporal...)

The Eagle Editorialist gives his reluctant endorsement to the reelection of President Roosevelt for a fourth term over rival Republican Thomas E. Dewey. While acknowledging concerns over the Administration's domestic policy, the EE contends that matters of war and the subsequent peace must take precedent at this time over any such misgivings. While acknowledging that the Eagle endorsed Wendell Willkie in 1940, he declares that "the least dangerous choice is to keep the person who, by his actions and his record, seems to have an overall understanding of America's place in world affairs."

(Coming Events Cast Their Shadows Before...)

(Camilli refused to report to the Giants in 1943, so what reason is there to think he would do so in 1945? Unless, perhaps, it was to rub Mr. Rickey's nose in it, which, when you think of it, is not an entirely unappealing idea...)

"Two Ton Tony" Galento may be starring on Broadway before too long, with a fight-themed comedy called "The Kid's Corner" said to be in the course of preparation. News of Tony's shift to the legitmate stage has critics recalling the beer-barrel boxer's venture into vaudeville a few years back, which perplexed audience's at Loew's State with an act consisting of the phrase "G'wan, ya bum ya" repeated 67 times.

(Plastic surgeon, psychiatrist? She must have spent a lot of time hanging around Vienna.)

("Didn't we have a bunch of kids around here for a while? It's all kind of a blur now, like I'm remembering a bad dream. But maybe -- they went in there!")

(CUT! Can we make that line a little more menacing? "You've come here to -- DIE!" Yeah, like that.)

(Ruined her hat, too.)

(AMERICA'S NUMBER ONE HERO DOG should leave this stuff to the border collies.)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Major Dodge, Corporal Dodge -- can we get a News diagram, please?

"Can I get dressed now? It's OCTOBEH f'gawdsake."

Can this marriage be saved?

SOME HELP YOU ARE

Yeah, well, who was supposed to take that car in for a wash??

There are a lot of uncertainties about the postwar world, but one thing I think we all can agree on is that...


"They call me that because I'm always dropping things. Fly balls, forward passes, depth charges..."

"And YOUAH a chucklehead too!"

"Did you bring the Kirkman's Complexion Soap?" "No, I thought you did."

Nobody ever sleeps thru a night in this house.

 

[Fading Fast]

"...me nivver exactly gooin' thru th' proparr channels whin Oi come ovarr here,"

Frank's asking the word "exactly" to do a lot of heavy lifting here.