The Era -- Day By Day

[LizzieMaine]

("All day he is running," marvels Mrs. Ginsburg. "Up and down the stairs, to talk at the door with the Schreibstein boy. It is like thunder, the sound of thunder, up and down and up and down. "Huh," huhs Sally. "I hoid t' thumpin', but I din'know what it was awlabout. An'nee din' say nut'n?" "What is mine business?" shrugs Mrs. Ginsburg. "If he tells, he tells, but it is not for me to esk." "Solly neveh says nut'n," nods Sally. "'till what'eveh's happ'nin' is oveh'wit'. "Leonora," diverts Mrs. Ginsburg. "Is she better?" "She's still got t' rash," sighs Sally, "but she's sleepin' betteh. Oh, she says t' tell ya, nex' time put t' chicken in wit' t'brawth." "Her appetite is coming beck," chuckles Mrs. G. "How's Misteh G?" queries Sally. "Oh," exhales Mrs. G. "He is not sick, but ME, he is making sick. All day long, the radio he listens. Soap operas. To "Helen Trent" he listens. To 'Ma Poikins.' To 'Our Gal Sunday.' And then, in the efternoon -- to 'Supermen' he listens. Such foolishness. 'Up Up and Away!' Away he should go, back to the shop." "Tis'll awl be oveh 'n'a few moeh days," assures Sally. "GANGWAY!" comes a thundering yell from the stairway, followed instantly by the careening form of Solly Pincus. The two women flatten against the Ginsburg door as Solly achieves the front entrance, and leans out a crack in the doorway for an energetic but low-toned conversation with Sammy Schreibstein. "It is not," reiterates Mrs. Ginsburg, retreating to her apartment, "for me to esk." "It is," frowns Sally, "f' ME...")

("That's roit," nods Uncle Frank into the phone. "Danny went oovar thar this aftarnoon, an'nee knoos who to ask faaar. Hm? Nooo, 'ee didn't take th' troock! --- Yess, yess, Oi knoo Sarrgeant Pincus waaanted ye t' ask, Oi ain't halllerin' at YOU, Sammy. Now, are ye SURE ye got th' name'a this Army doctaar roit -- good, good, that's th' way. Roit evry'thing doon. Good boy. Ahhhl roit, Oi'll call as soon as Oi hear fr'm Danny. Tell Sergeant Pincus -- well, Oi'll tell'im when Oi see'm. Thank'yee, son, ye doon well. All roit. G'byet'ye." "Well?" demands Ma as he hangs up the phone. "Is th' boy saaaaartain we got th' roit name?" "How many Army doctaaaars," sighs Uncle Frank, "named 'Fingerhood,' was in Naaarth Africa? Th' Saaargeant is sure it's th' same man that oooowes him a favaaar, an' it's th' same Doctaaar Fingerhood that's waaaarkin' at that Aaaarmy hospitall oot aan Long Oiland." "We're takin' an aaaahful chance," sighs Ma. "It's bettaaar," notes Uncle Frank, "than noo chance at all...f."

("Rickey Word Barrage." That's a nice way to put it.)

("Aw, you said I could break his back! I never get to have any fun!")

(CEE-MENT MIXER, PUT-TY PUT-TY!)

(Got run out of Park Place, huh?)

(It's a good thing Minnie Hauck passed away in 1929, because this would just k ill her.)

("I'd horsewhip you if I had a horse!")

(I prefer Spike Jones's H itler dirge -- "right in der Fuehrer's faaaaaaace!")

(Hey, who invited Clark Kent?)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Everybody's jumping to Mexico.

Bridge is to me like cricket. I know something's happening, but I'll be damned if I know what.

They really are a perfect match.

"Granpa says it is my destiny to be the bride of Molech, but he really isn't my type."

Something you can really sink your teeth into...

This is why accounts get audited.

And suddenly a mountain appeared out of nowhere...

Hey, it takes a while to recover from a long winter...

Just how carefully does the DL screen her help?


We know how this will end up.

 

[Fading Fast]

"We're takin' an aaaahful chance," sighs Ma. "It's bettaaar," notes Uncle Frank, "than noo chance at all...f."

I'm with Ma, the time to worry is before the SHTF.

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

Jesus, had to be some sort of epidemic taking three kids out like that.

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

Bridge is to me like cricket. I know something's happening, but I'll be damned if I know what.

Cute. Up until a Brit I worked with explained it all to me as we watched a game in a bar one night, that's how I felt about cricket too.

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

Just how carefully does the DL screen her help?

I'm with Charlie, Terry is way too worried about an easily explained picture.

 

[Harp]

Justice denied in Paulson and Wenschlag. Wenschlag received a suspension and Paulson a year
for statutory **** and probably ignored false imprisonment. And Ms Paulson admitted *********** with
a minor.... Had faculty been male, considerably more severity would have resulted.

Alcatraz finally ended. Combat close quarter is deafening and horrific death leaves life taking testament.

Assault won the Kentucy Derby besting favorites. Won't be the last time a surprise hoss emerges.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Well," sighs Uncle Frank as he hangs up the phone. "It's been delivaaared." "Now whaat?" sighs Ma. "We wait," nods Uncle Frank, sticking his finger in the coin return out of long established habit. "An' yaaaar certain," frowns Ma, "that tharrr ain't noothin' gonna call noo attention to oos." "All Danny done," reiterates Uncle Frank, "is hand that Doctarr Fingarhood th' lettar Solly wrote. "Did he take the..." interrupts Ma. "Noo," declares Uncle Frank. "See Oi get it back, thin," insists Ma. "Ivvry penny." "Danny said he didn't even need t'be paaarsuaded," continues Uncle Frank. "He seen who soined th' lettar an'ee said 'Oi'll arrange it,' an' that was that. Oi doon't knoo what koinda debt he oowed Solly, but he's paid it. An' noo, we wait an'see." "Solomon Pincus," marvels Ma. "Whood'a imagined." "An' th' woon thing HE said," adds Uncle Frank, "is he doon't want his name braaat into it with Bink. Not a waaard. He doon't waaant'arr gettin' noo oidears." "She could do waaarse," shrugs Ma. "She aaahlriddy did," notes Uncle Frank. "How IS she?" "Sick as a daaahg," sighs Ma. "An' she's milkin' it faaar ahhl it's waaarth. Swoonin' oop thar loike she's Greta Blooody Garbo." "Doon't tellar noothin' yet," warns Uncle Frank. "We gaaaht th' stuff, boot it ain't doon noothin' yet. Noo since in gett'n'arr hoops oop." "Oi got MY hoops oop," exhales Ma. "That'll hafta be enoof far all'oov'oos...")

("Look atcha," cajoles Sally. "Ya lookin' betteh awla time. You'll be ready t'go backta woik soon'sey let us outta heeh." "Uhhhhhhhhh," moans Alice. "You hadda feveh'ra hunnet'n five," notes Sally, "but now it's downa hunnet'n one. Ya gett'n betteh. Lemme go getcha s'moeh brawt'." "Sal," groans Alice, "like I said, yawr'a holy poisson an' awl, but I sweah t' Gawd, you bring me one moeh bowl'a brawt', I'm gonna break it oveh ya head." "C'maaaawn," scoffs Sally, "t'at ain' like you!" "Neit'eh," wails Alice, "is bein' foehty-one yeehs ol' an' havin'a measles!")

("Ahhhh, coom'aaahn, Mavis!" nudges Shaughnessy the Butcher. "Faaaar oold toime's sake!" "HMPH," hmphs Mavis Doyle...)

("Huh," huhs Joe, scanning the sports page. "Sez 'eeh Coscarawrt's ridin'a bench!" "WHAAAAT?" bellows Sally. "LEMME OUTA HEEH!" "Sawry," chuckles Joe...)

(Ella has the most understanding husband in the world, and he stays that way by not asking questions.)

(Mary's lost some weight. All that running other people's lives burns a lotta calories.)

(Sounds good to me!)

(Don't forget to pay off your staff. Oh wait, you already forgot.)

("Too bad you have to walk home...")

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

A boarded-up mansion filled with stuff = training wheels for jewel thieves.

Oh here we go again. Hey, how about a 100,000 seat stadium in Flushing?

What a way to run an airline.

"Well, let's go find that hillbilly again, and maybe this time, hose him down first..."

"Greetings, gate! Let's matriculate!"

All of life is the performance of a role.


Measles? You too?

If there's one skill they learn in the Army...

"Prepare the sacrifice!"

Very poor form there, Pop.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Worker...

You ain't seen nothing yet.

A clean restroom goes a long way...

 

[Fading Fast]

"She aaahlriddy did," notes Uncle Frank.

He got a really good shot in there.

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

"Huh," huhs Joe, scanning the sports page. "Sez 'eeh Coscarawrt's ridin'a bench!" "WHAAAAT?" bellows Sally. "LEMME OUTA HEEH!" "Sawry," chuckles Joe...

He's got some vim and vigor in him today too.

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

Mary's lost some weight. All that running other people's lives burns a lotta calories.

She looks like a seventy-year-old Ann Harding here.

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

A boarded-up mansion filled with stuff = training wheels for jewel thieves.



Separately, Susan Peters is just a heartbreaking story.

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

You ain't seen nothing yet.

While I don't agree with everything in it, when I agree with some things in a Daily Worker article, I have to go back to first premises to make sure I'm not driving into a ditch.

 

[LizzieMaine]

I think Robert Moses is one of the great unifiers in all of American history. No matter where you stand, you can find a valid reason to hate him.

 

[Fading Fast]

Fading Fast, tell me what you mean when you regularly say that NYC today is just a battleground for the left versus the far left. This is also why it's so funny to see in these old papers that Republicans and the Right still mattered back then.

Headline from today's edition of "The City" (an online local paper, link in headline):

• Disabled New Yorkers spoke out yesterday against a City Council bill that would ban 24-hour home care shifts, saying their own care will suffer. The “No More 24” bill has pitted workers’ rights activists against disability advocates and those who need round-the-clock care.

 

[Harp]

^ Over the years, I noticed my neighborhood CVS pharmacy install plastic borders encasing all shelves, not just liquor. It started with over counter cold and sinus product, then spread mitosis proliferation throughout the entire floor. Whenever I stopped by to pick up a prescription, I typically checked the literary section magazine and paperbacks before asking a clerk to unlock an Evan Williams fifth. A Wall Street Journal or Barrons typically wrapped it all with whatever coffee on sale. I stopped floor pace long ago, simply beelining java, juice, paper.

Now Walgreens announced its wholesale departure from more economically depressed black Chicago areas because of theft cuts to razor thin profit margins; upsetting surrounding communities. It's not racism but economics. Same with federal minimum wage argument for $25 hour baseline low skill salary. And Starbucks barista low skill folks striking over entry level pay. Starbucks mindless franchise growth all over showed poor corporate planning, which covid pandemic walk in traffic curtail would eventually attenuate. And Seattle's mayoral verbal dismissal and now its headquarters Tennessee relocate. Amazon looking leave too.
Economics is cruel art wed savage science.
-----
Terry's flying opium. With Chiang and Mao fracas, he'd be better off back home chasing a college degree and comely coeds, not waiting for Dragon Gal to make a play. Kid needs to get with the program before he catches a ******.

I do not favor capital punishment, especially for juveniles. I believe Trinchillo has been knocked down to secondly double sawbucks mandatory sentence. So the kid will suffer imprisonment and hopefully find redemption.

Lois Wenschlag posed chastely with her brother after her suspension. She has a Luciferian countenance that the learned trial judge apparently missed. Judgemente non obstante veredicto. And she's twenty. Old enough through criminal emancipation to have been more justly sentenced.

 

[EngProf]

I am amused at the Journalists' unending crusade for what they mistakenly believe is "the metric system".
They are crusading for the DECIMAL system, which can be, and is, applied to almost anything.
As they say, US money is set up in the decimal system, as is your car's odometer (tenths of miles).
The ACTUAL difference is that the fundamental units of the so-called "metric system" are MASS, LENGTH, and TIME.
The fundamental units of the US system are FORCE, LENGTH, and TIME.
That doesn't sound like a big difference, but it is.
The world is built on Forces directly, or Force/area (stress or pressure).
We cover this as an early topic in my Intro to Mechanical Engineering course, since the kids need to know that as engineers, they will be working in the realm of forces (mostly), not masses.
Of course, they are not going to be know-it-all editorial writers.

 

[Harp]

The ACTUAL difference is that the fundamental units of the so-called "metric system" are MASS, LENGTH, and TIME.
The fundamental units of the US system are FORCE, LENGTH, and TIME.

Size; Activity; Location; Unit; Time; and Equipment. (SALUTE)
11st Airborne Division

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Ya shouldn' pace t' flooeh like t'at," admonishes Lottie Schreibstein. "Go backta bed," growls Solly. "An' shutcha dooeh." "Ya pace t' flooeh like t'at," sneers Lottie, "t'em boehds squeak, an'n'ey can heeh ya downstaiehs. Leonoreh's ma is gonna yell up t' dumbwaiteh inna minute an' tell ya t'stawp." "GO BACKTA BED!" roars Solly. "HEY UP T"EH!" echoes an unmistakble nasal yelp. "GO TA BED!" "Tole ya," smirks Lottie. "An' I know WHY ya pacin'a flooeh. YAWR worried 'bout Bink Scanlan's baby." "You don' know nut'n bout nut'n," growls Solly. "AN'," adds Lottie with a self-satisfied sneer, "ya worried 'bout BINK SCANLAN." "I SAID GO TA BED!" bellows Solly. "HEY!" repeats the yell from below. "SHADDAP!" "Nite," snickers Lottie, as she disappears behind the door...)

("Staaarin' at th' telephoon," sighs Uncle Frank, gazing into his two-cents-plain, "ain't gooin' t' make it ring." "It ain't gooin' t' make it NOT ring neithaar," argues Ma...)

(Life itself is nothing but a constant parade of miscellany.)

(Hey, I know, let's send Walter F. O'Malley to the Mexican League!)

("It's not so hard to understand," chuckles the former Isabel Ten Eyck. "Heh," snorts Jimmy Leary.)

(Right, your "sister.")

(These are the most unimpressive thugs since Dan Dunn took on The Skull.)

(No, no, no -- the line is "give me ten dollars worth of distance!")

(Hey Trix, now's your chance, again!)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Ew.

Dehydrated oysters? How could that miss??

Countersigned by Mr. Smith and Mr. Wesson.

Think big!

"And I am here to tell you, it is most certainly NOT "super delicious!""

Crows feet? The years are catching up with you, kids.

Should have taken the job selling furniture...

Every once in while they do some thorough detective work.

"Our women know their duty to Molech. Do YOU?"

Limber, isn't he?

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Worker...

"Even without pop bottles!"

 

[Fading Fast]

"Ya shouldn' pace t' flooeh like t'at," admonishes Lottie Schreibstein. "Go backta bed," growls Solly. "An' shutcha dooeh." "Ya pace t' flooeh like t'at," sneers Lottie, "t'em boehds squeak, an'n'ey can heeh ya downstaiehs. Leonoreh's ma is gonna yell up t' dumbwaiteh inna minute an' tell ya t'stawp." "GO BACKTA BED!" roars Solly. "HEY UP T"EH!" echoes an unmistakble nasal yelp. "GO TA BED!" "Tole ya," smirks Lottie. "An' I know WHY ya pacin'a flooeh. YAWR worried 'bout Bink Scanlan's baby." "You don' know nut'n bout nut'n," growls Solly. "AN'," adds Lottie with a self-satisfied sneer, "ya worried 'bout BINK SCANLAN." "I SAID GO TA BED!" bellows Solly. "HEY!" repeats the yell from below. "SHADDAP!" "Nite," snickers Lottie, as she disappears behind the door...

Oy. These two should not be living together. It will be fun to see if they end up being friends in way afterwards.

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

Dehydrated oysters? How could that miss??

Well, at least someone was willing to admit there was a man named Langford and he was murdered. That's something.

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

Should have taken the job selling furniture...

When this all blows up, it will still be there.

 

[Harp]

Beatrice Marias' audacity boarding transit ship with child, and common law marriage impair claim
within marriage, render her appeal for leniency rather tenuous against challenge; however, she is not without standing held Ellis Island. Hopefully, recourse will lead repair under riparian status gain.

The O'Brien spousal razor attack will likely lead to murder charge, with subsequent defense of passion but such isn't valid under attendant circumstance.

The Turk and Trinchillo summaries lay bare evident guilt before jury responsibility that arguably had better stood adjudicative resolve.

Terry's a lost lamb running opium amidst China's civil war. Time to get outta Dodge son-after landing plane.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Oh, I hoid t' whole t'ing," declares Sally. "Up t' dumbwaiteh." "T' Sixty-t'oid Street pawrty line," snickers Joe. "Solly's up t'eh wawkin'a flooeh oveh Bink Scanlan!" sputters Sally. "Ev'rybody's worried about'eh, an'neh baby," dismisses Joe. "YAWR worried." "It ain'a same t'ing," frowns Sally. "Solly Pincus dunno what she's like!" "He useta go out wit'eh," shrugs Joe. "F'what," erupts Sally, "a coupl'a mont's???" "Hey, I knew a coupl'a people," snorts Joe, "met each ot'eh inna dance hawl. Wen'na'roun'a coupla mont's an'nen'ey got married! You r'membeh t'em, he woiked inna pickle fact'ry an' she woiked at Woolwoit's!" "You was awna WPA when we got married," growls Sally. "An' b'sides, 'at's diffe'nt. We knew what we was getn' into." "Well," hesitates Joe, "kinda...")

("Tharrr ain't mooch t'say," whispers Ma, thru the crack in the back-room door. "Doctarr McCann says th' baby is 'respondin.' Makes it soond loike'e's ansarrin'a telegram, but 'ee says thaaat means he's dooin' bettar." "Well," sighs Rosa Capiello, whispering in from the alley. "T'at's sump'n, I guess. Look, you tell Bink I come by." "Mmm," replies Ma, starting to close the door. "Hey," injects Rosa. "Jus' a minute. C'n I say sump'n?" "Make it quick," assents Ma. "Oi doon't want noobody t'see this door op'n." "Look," continues Rosa. "I know what ev'rybody 'roun'eeh t'inks about Bink. I mean, an' a lott'v'it ain' wrawng. But I known'eh'ra lawng time, since we was kids. T'ezza lott'veh t'at ain' like what ev'rybody t'inks she is." "Is that soo?" frowns Ma. "She t'inks'a woil'a you people," Rosa declares. "You an' Fat -- I mean, Misteh Leary. She knows she owes ya a lot, awl you done fawr'eh. She jus' ain'a kin'a poisson can come out'n say. But she does." "Hmm," hms Ma. "Anyways," shrugs Rosa. "Tell'eh I come by." "Oi will," assures Ma, closing the door...)

(Coming Events...)

(Fights in Ebbets Field? Oh, you mean the kind in a ring...)

("You mean even more than we already do?" "What?" "Your table is ready madam...")

(I think I fell asleep in this movie.)

(I'll never forgive you, Janie, if you don't push him in the pool...)

(Poor guy's teeth keep slipping. Try contact cement.)

("And in the meantime, let me leave you a few of our publications...")

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

No matter what new technology is introduced, within one year it will be used to rob somebody.

"...and over here."

The Self-Made-Man.

CUT. Min, bubeleh -- how many times do I have to tell you --the line is "Where ARE you now?" Watch the emphasis. All right, let's take it again...

Is he ever.

Sometimes it just takes a few minutes for the wheels to start...

"After the -- Festival? Ohhh, I won't be here anymore after the -- Festival...."

"Existing While Female," 1946 edition.

"You mean George Veditz, who popularized American Sign Language at the turn of the century? Yes, I read a good article about him in Collier's."

That's a pretty snazzy car for someone who hustles pool for a living.