The Era -- Day By Day

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Yeah, but what happens when he turns one? Do they send him back to the pound?

"Whoever gets me will have to pay me plenty!" Well, he won't be coming to Brooklyn...

"That's OK, it isn't meat. They just take a bowl of soybeans and whisper 'Texas' over it..."

Ah, good old Chops. Remember when he held Raven hostage and threatened to kill Pat?

"What a brat!" -- Leonora.

Skeez loves birds. Every night he dreams of eating fried chicken.

"Oh, I know better than to stay in one place any too long. Old warrants and all that..."

Meet Estelle Glotzman from Greenpoint.

If you wash your own hankies, you can get away with anything.

Trust me on this, it doesn't work that way at all.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Worker...

For pride, for glory, for team spirit and civic honor, but most of all -- for $2000 a man.

 

[Fading Fast]

An' not'em kinda places t'at's fulla bookies an' numbehs runnehs, an' cheap chiselehs an' p'lice charactehs! Good CLEAN places run by hones' people like Morrie an' Lil. People like Ma!" "Ah," ahs Joe. "Yeh," nods Sally.

We only see what we want to see.

Good to see the prices freed up. Sure they'll spike immediately, but give it time and most things get cheaper as supply increases to meet (tee-hee) demand.

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

Shirley gives her boyfriend a close examination.

She's awesome. Her brain is always working.

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

"A strange and capable person." You never want to get an annual review like that.

Do you have a story you'd like to share with the group?

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Yeah, but what happens when he turns one? Do they send him back to the pound?

Let's worry about that in nine months; we need to get oxygen to the hospitals now. Postwar America sometimes feels like the 1970s to me where you couldn't even keep up with all the strikes.

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

Skeez loves birds. Every night he dreams of eating fried chicken.

Chickens are birds in name only.

 

[Harp]

Caraway caught my eye. DA Gehrig's decision not to include Logan's **** makes
absolutely no sense, and giving an hour opening while attempting allude under a trial judge
equally erroneous approach; although the learned judge allowed and Weeks didn't object,
which leads my assuming he decided to play the hand dealt prosecution. Still, an hour is
far too long for simple burglary and Gehrig did a lousy shuffle for starters.

Terry here acts too chaste waste civilian. He opened with a reliable Ruy Lopez, mentioned
the old man and Chopsticks; getting his bishop and knight out, but Jane went full bore
Sicilian Defense mode counter. Jane shot his azz down like a slow duck dragging its tail end
before an Ithaca light 12 gauge pump flying over Lake Woebegone.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("It's oveh," sighs Alice, glancing down at the paper spread on her lap. "It's fin'ly oveh." Sally nods, and watches New Jersey rumbling by. "Yeh," she exhales. "Heeh's hopin'.")

(Mrs. Ginsburg looks up from her paper, and sees her husband, gazing out the window across 63rd Street. "Aundzer zun," she sighs, "vet vider zayn in der heym?" "Ya," nods Mr. Ginsburg, his fingers flexing slowly over the bowl of his pipe. "Bald vet er zayn aheym...")

("And none can say I did not do my part. Every Tuesday night without fail I listened to Bob Hope!")

(Make one mistake and it'll follow you for the rest of your life.)

(Glass slingbacks? Never mind the ropes, imagine how they cut up your ankles...)

("Hmph, 1847 Rogers Brothers.")

(You gotta admit that's a zippy car. How'd he rate it?)

(It pays to advertise!)

(Hey Janie, this gal stole your sheared muskrat!)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Sometimes you don't need pictures.

Judge Leibowitz is a man of conviction.

Only a month into fall, and, you know, people are already sick of it.

You seldom meet anyone in show business with such refreshing candor.

Heart of gold, at the spot price.

"O' course, you're not as great as Bill Slagg. He was really great."

Close enough.

Yeah, and Jack Benny is thirty-nine.

At least he didn't say "hubba hubba."

It's all in how you look at it.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Worker...

At least "Big Joe's Chickwich" is back.

Lunch today is on Mardo.

 

[Fading Fast]

"It's oveh," sighs Alice, glancing down at the paper spread on her lap. "It's fin'ly oveh." Sally nods, and watches New Jersey rumbling by. "Yeh," she exhales. "Heeh's hopin'."

Well, at least we ended for good the antisemitism sickness.

I guess I wish he had been hanged, but I've never gotten too worked up about Goering "cheating" the hangman. He's dead: good.

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

Mrs. Ginsburg looks up from her paper, and sees her husband, gazing out the window across 63rd Street. "Aundzer zun," she sighs, "vet vider zayn in der heym?" "Ya," nods Mr. Ginsburg, his fingers flexing slowly over the bowl of his pipe. "Bald vet er zayn aheym..."

Well, at least we ended for good the antisemitism sickness.

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

Wonderful sentiment, if only we all hadn't fallen so short in the ensuing eight decades.

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

Make one mistake and it'll follow you for the rest of your life.

"Hey, honey, do you know where the Eagle's sport section is? I can't find it."
"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were done with the paper so I used it to wrap up some wet garbage."
"No big deal. Just wanted to read about the World Series, but honestly, I've have enough baseball already. I just thought I might have dropped the section somewhere."
"Reasonable thought."
"What?"
"Nothing, dear."

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

Hey Janie, this gal stole your sheared muskrat!

"Sable, but haters gonna hate. That's on them."

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

Judge Leibowitz is a man of conviction.

It's a nice thing to do, unless he commits another crime and then does the judge of conviction have to face the victims? There are no easy answers, but leniency can have a big cost too.

 

[Harp]

I haven't seen Goering, just waiting time and opportune moment. Odds are he got a
kill pill from cadre, which will make a freight train court martial express ride to Leavenworth.
And the stockade's old man and guard top kick given swift kick in the brass.
Military justice is to Justice what military music is to music. It ain't sweet.

The learned trial judge, Honorable Samuel S Leibowitz' declared judgemente non obstante veredicto in McMahon seems Solomonic however well intentioned. Yet 'tis not. I am of considered
opinion either jury nullification or sibling judicial vacate suborns inherent trial principle,
and, ultimately Justice herself.

Terry could still pitch through the inning, no reason to leave the mound now.

 

[Farace]

My jaw sort of dropped when I saw the Eagle headline, and the photo of the hanging sides of beef just below it. I wonder whose idea that was.

 

[Fading Fast]

My jaw sort of dropped when I saw the Eagle headline, and the photo of the hanging sides of beef just below it. I wonder whose idea that was.

Great catch. I'm embarrassed that I didn't make that connection myself. And I looked at both headlines, read the stories, and read the caption – still nothing rattled in my small brain.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("She's abs'loutely right," declares Solly Pincus. "Volume's t' key. If I was just sellin' Awrmy hats t' kids oveh nex' dooeh innat lit'l stoehfron', y't'ink I'd be satisfied? Hellno! I make a lot moeh money sellin' stuff 'crosta country. An' we'eh gonna stawrt doin' mail awrdeh pretty soon. T' sky's t' limit! An' it'll be t' same wit'choo!" "I don' t'ink," observes Joe, "t'at y'can sell a beef san'wich t'ru t' mail." "I seen'm in tin cans," replies Solly. "Y'nevveh know. Anyways, even if ya DON'T have t' meat yet, what Sal tol' ya t'do is zackly what y' SHOULD do. Take a week an' do some whatchacawl reconnaissance. LIke, oh, upta Williamsboig. Aw'lem little joints we useta go to up t'eh by t' pickle woiks. Look f'ra nice clean jernt run by somebody t'at's willin' t' woik. An' lissen -- don't go f'no big place t'at's' awrways busy. T'ey don' need t' business. You wanna go t' t' guy crawst'a street! Heeza one needs sump'n t' get t' business away from t' foist guy! Y' catch?" "Jus' wawk aroun' awl day," frowns Joe. "No, no," corrects Solly. He steps to the magazine rack and selects a thick red pocket-sized publication. "Look 'eeh," he continues, opening the book and unfolding a large map pasted to the inside cover. "See t'is? Ev'ry street, an' ev'ry block, in Brooklyn. Awright? Now get out t' phone book, t' classified. Y'go t'ru t'eh an' ya find ev'ry place inneh t'at soives food. 'Nen ya make a mawrk onna map, see? F'ev'ry one y'gonna visit. So y'don' waste no time!" "Hm," hms Joe, looking at the map. "At'sa way," nods Solly, as Joe thumps the Classified Directory on the counter, and begins to thumb...)

("ENTER! YOUNG SEEKER OF KNOWLEDGE!" thunders the voice, as Sammy squints thru the incense haze. "FOR WHAT PURPOSE DO YOU ENTER THE PRESENCE," continues the voluminous gentleman behind the beard, "OF ZENO?" "Um," ums Sammy, "well, uh, my name is Sammy Schr -- uh -- Scanlan. Sammy Scanlan, an' I -- " "DO NOT ATTEMPT TO DECEIVE ZENO," thunders the prophet. "YOU DO NOT APPEAR TO BE -- IRISH." "Uhhhh," stammers Sammy, "um, we come from t' -- uh -- eas' side of -- Iehlan'..." The swami ponders this, and stares at his visitor. "BE SEATED," he finally beckons. "See," gulps Sammy, his nose beginning to run from the smoke, "it's about my sisteh." "AHHHHHHHH," nods Zeno, smirking beneath his whiskers. "YOUR SISTER IS NAMED -- BARBARA?" "Izzat 'eh real name?" blurts Sammy. "Oh, I mean, I'm -- uh -- bein' sawrcastic. Awl us Scanlans is like t'at. Anyways, see, my sisteh is about to come int'wa lotta money..." "AHHHHHHH," smiles the wizard. "An' awl she's gotta do t' get it," explains Sammy, "is t' do t'is heeh.....")

("It's still a PAAAARFECTLY GOOD TRUCK!" -- Uncle Frank.)

(Oh, hold onto a few of those programs, huh? Who knows, someday they might be worth something...")

("Um, do you know how to..." "Wait, I thought you did! YOU HAD THE HAT!")

(Save it for your soap opera, Brick.)

(You're messing around with the oil boys? Sucker. Everybody knows that meat is where the money is!)

(Pug? Look who's talking!)

("I REALLY WANT to be swindled!)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

All right, that's the best headline of the week.

Stoke up the hot stove a little hotter, I'm already freezing.

Know your requirements before you sign the deal.

What, again?

"JUST DOIN' WHAT COMES NATCH-ER-LEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

What happens to Quiz Kids when they grow up...

I suppose if Milt is going to start clearing the decks for the new guy, this is the easiest way to do it.

Um.

Look, if you don't know how popular trio acts are, I'm not gonna waste time explaining it.

"Might I trouble you, though, for a tall glass of tomato juice. With a dash of worcestershire sauce, if you please..."

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Worker...

Let's get to it.

 

[Fading Fast]

"Volume's t' key. If I was just sellin' Awrmy hats t' kids oveh nex' dooeh innat lit'l stoehfron', y't'ink I'd be satisfied? Hellno! I make a lot moeh money sellin' stuff 'crosta country. An' we'eh gonna stawrt doin' mail awrdeh pretty soon. T' sky's t' limit! An' it'll be t' same wit'choo!"

And he, just like Joe one day, will be resented for his success, as if success knocked on the door and gave itself over voluntarily to either of them.

BTW, how is the warehouse audit going?

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

"um, we come from t' -- uh -- eas' side of -- Iehlan'..."

Give the not-yet-worldly boy credit for smarts.

"Izzat 'eh real name?" blurts Sammy. "Oh, I mean, I'm -- uh -- bein' sawrcastic. Awl us Scanlans is like t'at.

And he did it again. Plus, I love his surprise when he learns Bink's real name.

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

Oh, hold onto a few of those programs, huh? Who knows, someday they might be worth something...

I don't collect stuff, but would something like that be like a stamp with a printing error – more valuable for its oddity and rareness?

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

All right, that's the best headline of the week.

The IRS should look into this guy.

Also, we have to give Morris Shapiro the Leonard Weinberg award for citizen heroism.

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

I suppose if Milt is going to start clearing the decks for the new guy, this is the easiest way to do it.

I get that it is an opportunity, but I wouldn't want to be taking over the strip. It will never be as good (even if it is) and if it's bad, it's like you ruined baseball.