The Era -- Day By Day

[Fading Fast]

Lizzie, hi and as Trenchfriend noted earlier in the week, thank you for doing this every day. Which is why I hate to note, but for whatever reason, none of the images are coming up today. It could be me, but since I work from home, I have two ISPs, two routers, two computers, and several web browsers and I can't bring the images up no matter what combo I use. I'm sure it's not your fault, but did want to mention it.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Trombone players, ew.

Voice Of The People!

Oh yeah, we did have kind of a plot...

Now you're talking into the earpiece. Can't the doctors do something about that?

The whole world's a conspiracy.

Well, in one sense.

You know you've gotten old when you realize you can no longer remember the last time you went on a slippery-slide.

"Nilon?" Is that your brother Ray?

Sigh.

Amnesia would be great if you could choose what to forget.

 

[LizzieMaine]

Lizzie, hi and as Trenchfriend noted earlier in the week, thank you for doing this every day. Which is why I hate to note, but for whatever reason, none of the images are coming up today. It could be me, but since I work from home, I have two ISPs, two routers, two computers, and several web browsers and I can't bring the images up no matter what combo I use. I'm sure it's not your fault, but did want to mention it.

Very strange. They showed up on my end. I've deleted and reuploaded -- does it work now?

 

[Fading Fast]

Very strange. They showed up on my end. I've deleted and reuploaded -- does it work now?

It worked absolutely perfect. They have all showed up. Thank you so much for doing that.

 

[Fading Fast]

Trombone players, ew.

"You understand me and my wife doesn't." Gag.

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

Voice Of The People!

Usually, these are wing-nut items, but kudos to this guy. I can't take much more of woe-is-me Mr. Farmer.

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

Now you're talking into the earpiece.

Maybe if he switches the phone correctly, the suitcases will switch back too.

 

[Harp]

Morning All, type pulled up lima charlie this morning.
And Happy Easter!

First, Dotson assaulted and killed the police officer, which is Murder One, Felonious Murder Doctrine.
And doctrinal precept dictates applicable legal pursuit; however, life imprisonment should be floor sentence
later.

Lt Weintraub is liable for a long stretch in the stockade for this one; all for a lousy five Franks. Law license
with bar dismissal. I struggled to get through college and law school on the GI Bill during recession and long
hours working, and here this clown throws his career away....

Caught the bobby soxer hilltop seduction story. Figures to be a trombonist. Slid into home plate.
His defense can argue emancipitatory preclude; however tenuous, there's the Flynn precedent for statutory
**** but civil suit retains inherent exposure. This aspect better addressed outside court, I would so advise
accused music maker. He could ostensibly counter file, although circa post war impractical. And has seen with
the Mayfair Sewing Circle Potato Peel Pie Society strippers, the law can be a tease where females are concerned. Veritas, veritas vae victus veritas. Et pax vobiscum. A fast fix is best. Mortgage the house if need be.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Leonoreh's gone t' t' coicus wit'eh cousin an' 'is folks," explains Sally, "so we c'n tawk private." "Ah," nods Dr. Minkoff, sipping his cup of tea. "She's never mentioned an aunt or uncle." "Yehhhhh," demurs Sally. "It's kin'a complicated. Anyways, we'eh glad y'could come oveh. I'm worried 'bout 'tis stuff she's been sayin'." "She's awrways sayin' stuff," shrugs Joe. "I jus' don' t'ink it's nut'nta worry'bout. I mean, Doc, din'choo say she's gotta good imagination? An'nat'sa good sign?" "That's true," Dr. Minkoff acknowledges. "A child who is -- ah -- what we call gifted, in the way that Leonora is, can often feel bored with what she sees as conventional or uninteresting surroundings. So she'll create a -- let us say -- a fantasy environment, where she can explore..." "Like fairy stawries?" interrupts Sally. "She can't stan'nem. Joe tried t'read'm to'eh once an' she kep' arguin'. Sayin'a princess was dumb, an' awlat." "Ya Ma says," chuckles Joe, "you useta do t'same t'ing." "Well, yeh," nods Sally. "I mean, 'nem princesses WAS dumb. But t'is ain'nat, Docteh. She's been tawkin' 'bout slot machines, an' pinbawll, an'nat kinda stuff. What kin'a five-yeehr-ol' even KNOWS about t'at kin'a stuff." "Dinchoo say," interrupts Joe, "t'at Lottie Schreibstein plays pinbawll?" "Leonoreh can't stan' Lottie," argues Sally. "If Lottie said it was good t' eat food, Leonoreh'd go awn a hungeh strike. No, she's pickin' it up someplace else, an' I wanna know if t'ez some kid at t'at clinic t'at's teachin' it to 'eh." "Well," exhales Doctor Minkoff, "let's first look at her overall environment. Now, you told me that your mother runs a candy store, am I right? Now, we often hear..." Joe's eyes flare dangerously, and his head oscillates sharply from side to side, as Dr. Minkoff trails off. "Whassa matta witchoo?" queries Sally, turning to face her husband. "You got t' shakes 'a sump'n?" "Ummm," umms Joe, "I'm cold. Le's close t' windeh." "It ain' open," observes Sally. "Well good t'en," stammers Joe. "T'en t'ey'll be no moeh trouble." "I'll speak with the other children," nods Dr. Minkoff, as Joe lets out his breath...)

("Wasn'at swell?" declares Alice, slurping a soda at the Liggett's fountain next to Madison Square Garden. "Y'evveh see monkeys like'at? Wasn'em t' bes' monkeys eveh?" "Yeh!" exclaims Krause, tossing up the cherry from his sundae and catching it in his mouth." "T'em hawrses was pretty slick too," adds Willie. "Whatcha t'inka t'em hawrses?" "Buncha nags," snorts Leonora. "Wouldn' give none'f'm a hunnet' t' one!")

(Better save something for World War 2 1/2...)

(Cookie is one of the most attractive men in the National League, but I wouldn't call him a "doll.")

(Bullfighter! I call bullfighter!)

(She was in the theatre? Third mezzanine, Row H, Seat 110.)

(Ahhhh, small town gossip.)

("Ew, no. And I don't want to go to any more burlesque shows.")

(Oldest story in the book. One partner gets a solo offer, and breaks up the act.)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

"Heeh's anot'eh sacka t'em p'tatehs," sighs Danny, dropping the heavy bag on the workbench. "Ye moove stoof aroond back tharr," queries Uncle Frank, shoving the Tootsie Roll into the corner of his mouth, "soo the Serrrrgeant doon't nootice?" "He don' miss much, Pop," warns Danny. "Ya betteh watch it." "Ye soond loike Nora," scoffs Uncle Frank. "B'soides, what's a few sacksa p'tatehs when tharrs a pooblic saaaarvice t'be p'faaaarmed..."

Remember when it was milk-wagon horses that were going on rampages?

He can use Wilmer as a brush.

You're not going to explain the goggles, are you?

Even imperfection has its standards of perfection.

KIDS TODAY

All this running is good for his health.

I'd think you'd be happy to be free of the babble.

In the meantime, some people never seem to get laryngitis.

Cue the violin crescendo.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And also...

Food didn't agree with you, huh?

And in the Worker...

Coming events....

 

[Fading Fast]

"Heeh's anot'eh sacka t'em p'tatehs," sighs Danny, dropping the heavy bag on the workbench. "Ye moove stoof aroond back tharr," queries Uncle Frank, shoving the Tootsie Roll into the corner of his mouth, "soo the Serrrrgeant doon't nootice?" "He don' miss much, Pop," warns Danny. "Ya betteh watch it." "Ye soond loike Nora," scoffs Uncle Frank. "B'soides, what's a few sacksa p'tatehs when tharrs a pooblic saaaarvice t'be p'faaaarmed..."

As you would say Lizzie: tick, tick, tick...

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

What a chance reunion. Also, good on the Priest – a man who took his faith seriously and was a very quiet hero.

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

In the meantime, some people never seem to get laryngitis.

 

[Harp]

Skimmed the racetrack tax story. Cook County, Illinois charges three percent. IRS is a standard twenty-eight;
which leads track take out hover betwixt twenty and another fiver for good measure. I consider a fifty-six
percentage factored short-priced favorites against post draw. Superfecta swings favor fast dimes over slower
more probable nickels after window banditry. I prefer female clerks over guys since I'd rather tip a woman.
Covid laid wrecking ball to the old familiar crowd at the Crestwood Off Track, and my favorite rail hens had
flown the coop, never to be seen ever again. And now that I use computer wagering, the times have changed
but taxes remain.

Slits crashed and burned big time with Dragon Gal who takes no prisoners. And since Slits wears blinders,
perhaps he should stare ahead at the race biz in front of him.... Milt does, I will admit, vary her sartorial sensual
style.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("I dunno what t' do," sighs Sally. "T' kid's outta control." "She doesn't sound like she's out of control," shrugs Dr. Levine, turning a page in her notebook. "Awlatime she's tawkin' 'bout slot machines," insists Sally. "An' pinbawl. An' hawrse racin'! An' I dunno weh she's pickin' awlis stuff up! She's five yeehs ol', an' soun's like she oughta be in one'a t'em Damon Runyon stawries!" "A healthy child," argues Dr. Levine, "has a healthy fantasy life." "By t' time she's seven," groans Sally, "she's gonna be a p'lice characteh! She's sposta be stawrt'n public school in Septembeh -- what if she stawrts runnin' c rap games downa basemen'? I ask ya!" "Perhaps she's picking all this up from one of those detective programs on the radio," suggests Dr. Levine. "What does she like to listen to?" "H. V. Kaltenbawrn," frowns Sally. "An'nats'a not'eh t'ing, she knows I can't stan'nat guy. 'Roooo-shee-a' t'is an' 'Rooo-shee-a t'at!'" "Well, that may be something," suggests Dr. Levine. "Perhaps she's trying to get your attention, and doing things that she knows annoy you is a effective way of doing that." "Whas' she wawn' from me?" questions Sally. "Perhaps," summarizes Dr. Levine, "you should ask *her* that question." 'Huh," huhs Sally, staring up as a flake of paint dislodges from the ceiling and flutters gently to the floor below...)


("You still heeh?" questions Solly Pincus, approaching the counter. "You cookin'?" "I c'n cook," snaps Bink Scanlan. "Whatcha wawnt?" "Big Joe's special," orders Solly, "an'na Coke. An' give an extra squoit a' syrup." "Yeh," yehs Bink, scooping the meat out of the chilled tub, forming it into a thick, loose patty, and slapping it on the grill. "You still ain't..." begins Solly, as Bink prepares his drink. "No," she growls, jerking the syrup dispenser with unnecessary force. "I AIN'T." "A week late," observes Solly, as Bink slides his glass across the counter. "Who's countin'?" she frowns. "No business'a mine," shrugs Solly, plucking a straw from the dispenser and sinking it in his drink. "Still, a week's a lawng time. You seen'a docteh?" "I'm goin' t'marra," mutters Bink. "If I can get down'a subway." "Lawng wawk t't station," notes Solly. "T'ree'na half blocks," scoffs Bink. "An' Midwood Street's pretty t'is time'a yeeh, t'em f'sythias awl out n' stuff." "I might be goin' by wheh ya docteh is," comments Solly. "Inna truck. I gotta pick up some stuff." "You don' even know wheh my docteh is," challenges Bink. "Yeh," acknowledges Solly. "But I'm prob'ly goin' by t'eh." "Huh," huhs Bink. "Don' boin'at meat!" injects Solly. "Hmph," hmphs Bink, reaching for her spatula...)

(I dunno, Vern, 125G not to play for the Browns sounds like a pretty good deal...)

(Every kid runs away eventually...)

(Half empty or half full?)


(A diamond is forever, but a good coffee cake gets you thru lunch.)

(Huh, how'd she keep the little clips from popping loose?)

("Sandy has some gambling friends." I bet he does.)

("When in the course of -- of -- um -- things that -- um -- happen -- uh -- DAMMIT! Writing is HARD!")

(Wait, didn't we just do this story?)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

It'll never work, can you imagine Gromyko and Bevin fighting over a seat on the LIRR?

S'posta snow tomorrow.

"Don't you have it in white gold? It clashes with my raincoat."

Maybe Grampaw should take up poker.

Well, weren't you trying to get rid of it in the first place?

Most "soothing syrups" were made with opium. Hophead Plushie.

Joe and Sally at Roseland were nothing like this.

Hadn't you better check with Cindy first?

Let's dance.

Um...

 

[LizzieMaine]

And also...

"I do not neither drink wine! I'm strickly a Schcoth man, pally!" -- Horace.

And in the Worker...

Not the sponsor I would have imagined for Pinky, but if it brings him back...

History's watching.

 

[Fading Fast]

"Perhaps she's trying to get your attention, and doing things that she knows annoy you is a effective way of doing that."

Oh my God, imagine if Leonara grew up to be right wing / anti-union. I think that was something like the original premise for "Family Ties," where Michael J. Fox's character was conservative and his parents were aging hippies.

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

I dunno, Vern, 125G not to play for the Browns sounds like a pretty good deal...

No kidding, but something clearly did not work for him in Mexico.

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

Huh, how'd she keep the little clips from popping loose?

So she improvised a hair scrunchie.

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

I feel like we are in on a minor iconic moment in comicstrip history.

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

Not the sponsor I would have imagined for Pinky, but if it brings him back...

A lot of market logic from Das Daily Work lately. Kidding aside, no mater the economic and/or political system, big picture, resources are always scares and budgets, always tight .

 

[Harp]

Bigamist Wilma Means can theoretically be charged with prostitution, grand theft auto, larceny,
and check counterfeit; although I suspect this merely is just iceberg tip.

Meanwhile, hats off to Milt for his provocatively drawn Dragon Gal in all her pneumatic glory.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Just poot it aaahn th' troock an' take it oot t' th' waaarehoose," commands Ma. "Ye knoo th' routine." "I tol' ya, Ma -- I can't!" insists Danny. "Solly Pincus is got t' truck! Said'ee hadda go do sump'n t'day." "Is that soo?" frowns Ma. "Sooom naaaarve he has!" "He took Bink t' t' docteh," injects Joe, pretending not to overhear. "This blooody fam'ly's goin' t' be th' deatha me," exhales Ma. "Oi tell ye whatcha do. Take it oopstairs an' poot it in th' backa Barbara's claaaaset. Ain't noo coppar goin' t' sarrch no gaaaarl's bedroom." "Not'n'less he's lookin' undeh t' bed," snorts Danny. "B'sides, ain'choo paid up?" "Paid oop with Doyle," growls Ma. "Noot these croosaaaadars. Th' vaaaary oidear, an Oirishman loike this Oo'Dwyarrr poot'n th' spade t' haaaardwaaaarkin' people joost troyin' t' make an haaanest livin'." "I can't lug t'at slot machine up t'eh," demurs Danny, "wit'out help. It's too heavy." "Take oot th' nickl's faaaarst," commands Ma, holding up a key. "Nooo, on th' oothar hand, Joseph, me boy, woul'jee do me favaaar? In th' back room ye'll find a --ah --metal cooontainarr. Oopen it oop with this key an' bring me th' boxa nick'ls ye'll foind inside." "Ah," ahs Joe. "An haaanest man," declares Ma, as Joe reluctantly enters the back room, "faaar an haaanest job.")

("She said I need t' spen' moeh time wit' Leonoreh," sighs Sally. "It couldn' hoit," suggests Alice. "T'ey say idle hands izza devil's woik shoes. An' you know what'tat means." "An' Docteh Minkoff said t' same t'ing," adds Sally. "He says Leonoreh's a kid wit' t' kin'a imagination needs t' be stimulated, 'steada lett'neh jus' sit aroun' t'inkin' up stuff." "Ain'nat whatcha imagination is?" challenges Alice. "Sitt'naroun' t'inkin' up stuff?" "He says I gotta channel it," frowns Sally. "Take 'eh t' museums an'na zoo an'na awlat stuff." "She din' t'ink too mucha t' coicus," shrugs Alice. "She said t' clowns shoulda knowed nobody oughta try'n fit innat one cawr like t'ey done, an'ney was jus' stupid. An'nen'nat one clown, you know, t'at one st'ans'eh an' staehs at'cha an' eats a headda lettuce? She says 'y' otta eata Big Joe's Special, it's fulla protein!'" "Well'at's sump'n, at least," nods Sally....)

("And the next war, we can just lay it on its side and use it for a troop ship!")

(Ahhhh, I bet they don't have bobby-soxers in Vera Cruz!)

(Maybe they're hiring at Mozelewski's...)

(Yes, leave immediately so we don't have to spend the next twelve weeks on this.)

(The Hat Squad is on the case!)

(Ah, romance.)

(Just how old must Patsy be??)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

"Oi doon't loike it at aaahl," scowls Shaughnessy the butcher, putting down the bottle. "It doon't taste roit." "It tastes as good," glares Uncle Frank, "as thim briskets ye soold us durin' th' waaaar!"

It takes real vision and initiative to hijack a parking lot.

"A seven foot snake is your pal? Hmph, my pal is an eight-foot wizard with a magic rug!"

Nice moustache, bud. Haven't we seen you someplace before?

Remind us again what you bring to the organization?

April Fools has gone past, you're the biggest fool at last!

"Neat! I've always wanted one with pearl grips!"


Hey, kid - you wanna sell that car? Mine died yesterday.

What you need is a bright wide-awake manager to shake things up.

All's well that ends well...

 

[LizzieMaine]

And also...

Habla usted espanol?

 

[Fading Fast]

"... Th' vaaaary oidear, an Oirishman loike this Oo'Dwyarrr poot'n th' spade t' haaaardwaaaarkin' people joost troyin' t' make an haaanest livin'."

Grew up around some people like this who sincerely believed their gambling and other off-the-book ventures were honest and not having to pay taxes was just one more benefit. They genuinely and deeply did not see themselves as criminals.

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

"Oi doon't loike it at aaahl," scowls Shaughnessy the butcher, putting down the bottle. "It doon't taste roit." "It tastes as good," glares Uncle Frank, "as thim briskets ye soold us durin' th' waaaar!"

The serious beer drinkers I've known could spot a smaller glass before they've even seen it.

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

It takes real vision and initiative to hijack a parking lot.

If half these crooks put the same effort into making an honest living, they'd do better. It's why the jewel thief is so respected; at least there's real money in that.

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

Nice moustache, bud. Haven't we seen you someplace before?

"Shhh!"