The Era -- Day By Day

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Worker...

"Regulations for thee, but not for me..."

 

[Fading Fast]

"You was awna WPA when we got married," growls Sally.

I don't remember that. So Joe wasn't working in the pickle factory when he and Sally met?

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She knows she owes ya a lot, awl you done fawr'eh. She jus' ain'a kin'a poisson can come out'n say.

Good for Rosa.

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

Very true.

Separately, the Campbell case is a different one for us. Interesting that they had to pass a law to allow him to sue.

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"Regulations for thee, but not for me..."

Reeks of hypocrisy.

So, today, the players have, I think, everything on the list, is everyone happy?

 

[LizzieMaine]

Yep, Joe was digging ditches in early 1937 when they met, which was part of the reason Ma disliked him so much on first glance. Solly was already working at Crown Pickle, and got Joe in there, just before Joe and Sally got married in August. So Sally's memory isn't entirely accurate, but in the heat of argument...

Ma also disliked him because he isn't Irish, although she seems to have gotten over that. Call Joe the "dancing Bohunk" around her at your peril.

Meanwhile, apropos the baseball union story, it doesn't take too much speculation/investigation to suggest that one of the unnamed Dodgers in Mr. Mardo's piece is Dixie Walker, who has been at odds with Rickey and Durocher for years, and who also has a reputation as a clubhouse lawyer. Wheels within wheels...

 

[Harp]

The decision in Turk was clearly unjust pursuant factual homicide; while Trinchillo, equally tragic, but no less
fact-driven, proved the more honest verdict. Both boys are psychologically impaired; however, evil is intrinsic human nature with demonstrative manifest eruption irrespective chronological age. The Law must often lean against juvenile motive for reasoned action, and, past certain pubescent stage, lawful accountability occurs.
Both cases should have been resolved outside trial. As we have seen in other instances involving female ***ual predation, Justice, red faced abhorrence aside, may falter mature fairness standard.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Terry is looking at depraved heart indifference deliberate intent homicide from the wrong side of a .38 revolver. Lie down with dogs, catch a few slugs. Kid Boston might be able to correct this situation, perhaps.... Terrence could be walking Midway Plaisance on the University of Chicago campus right about now, wearing his Aero A2 leather jacket crested Flying Tigers American Volunteer Group insignia sewn left chest beneath leather name strip, with Plato or Shakespeare left hand held, and surrounded by hundreds of beautiful lovely coeds. Instead, dumbazz is staring down a barrel.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("I ain' contagious no moeh," fumes Leonora. "I read it innis book." "How boutcha wait'll Docteh Katzman tells ya you ain' contagious," argues Sally. "Sueh," growls Leonora. "Waste'cha money. I bet he looks it up inna same book!" Sally glares at her daughter. "T'at ain'no docteh book," she scoffs. "T'at's ya Pa's shawp book from whenee woiked at Sperry's. Whatta you gett'n into inna bedroom, anyways?" "I gotta fin' SUMP'N t' read I ain' read yet," Leonora retorts. "You ain' gett'n int'a t'at stuff inna closet, awrya?" snaps Sally. "T'at stuff ain' none'a ya business, stay outta t'eh!" "T'at ot'eh book inneh," sniffs Leonora. "'Married Love.' No stawry to it at awl." "STAY OUTTA T"EH!" bellows Sally...)

("No, Sergeant," shrugs Mrs. Ginsburg. "Sammy's not been by all day. I would hear if to the front door is anybody, but today no one is coming but Doctor Katzman to see Mrs. Krause and Leonora. Is Lottie?" "Nah," exhales Solly. "She ain' showin' no symptoms a' nut'n but bein' a brat." "A man who has never spent time around," snickers Mrs. Ginsburg. "Children will be children. I raised two, and not always were they well-behaved. That mark on the stair step -- my boy Milton -- the lawyer, you know -- is making one day with a cherry bomb." "How'dya make'm shut up?" sighs Solly. "T'is kid runs'eh mout' awla time, 'bout stuff she dunno nut'nabout. Won' min'eh'rown business! Awrways sayin' stuff, sayin' stuff, tryin'a make me mad!" "What is she saying?" queries Mrs. Ginsburg. "Jus' stupid stuff," flushes Solly. "Try'na get undeh my skin." "Ah," nods Mrs. Ginsburg. "And perhaps then, she has?" Solly glowers. "If Sammy comes," he grumbles, as he heads upstairs, "yell up t' dumbwaiteh....")

("The sound effects department says they can't possibly give you the sizzle of beefsteak. You just can't get the cellophane!")

(Cookie's first game since he got back, and he pinch runs? At least he didn't get his ankle stuck in the pitching machine...)

(Never take your eyes off your drink. Didn't they teach you that in the Marines?)

(So tell him already. Oh wait, we've still got nine weeks to go.)

(Yeah, but can you get a new tire?)

("ALL OUT END OF THE LINE")

(He's done his good deed for the year.)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

THIS IS WHY YOU DON'T WRITE ANYTHING DOWN

Something to do in the saloon if you don't like the pretzels.

Molech's Bride must remain pure.

Mmmmm. Carbon Tetrachloride!

You Can't Cheat An Honest Man.

Eighty years later, he'd be all over Reddit.

"We better hurry before the vegetables wilt!"


Optimist.

Anyone for a Long Island potato field?

It's just that easy.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Worker...

There's A New World Coming...

 

[Fading Fast]

I'm guessing Special Transit Patrolman Donald Leudesdorff was none to please when Jacob Kalkstein torn up his first summons.

You can see how all that played out.

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

Cookie's first game since he got back, and he pinch runs? At least he didn't get his ankle stuck in the pitching machine...

Nice.

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

He's done his good deed for the year.

My dad would have said about the same thing the dad here said, with less words though.

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

Anyone for a Long Island potato field?

It's always successful when supply meets demand.

 

[Harp]

The James Tanzillo infanticide case is heartbreaking. The Johnson trial acquittal in Greenberg seems
spoiled fruit of the vine occasioned precinct beaten confession. And Seaman buck *** private Ochner, heir to a reputed $deuce mikes oil bonanza, just beat a statutory **** charge and kissed off a Honolulu Hotel Street showgal. Kid's on a roll.

The St Martinville, LA electric chair failure in the Willie Francis execution stay story raises concerns sufficient said stay and presents strong commutative argument for life imprisonment. Although not conversant the facts of Francis, he's all of seventeen, which emancipatory majority hardly obviates. Reading these circa newspapers, one has to notice, if not marvel, at era capital punishment alacrity. Especially with regard minority defendants.

Bermuda riparian prudishness is amusing.

And the Boston Kid, apparently unarmed, fires away insecticide for tomato plants while driving heroin around Chiang's China, resolving Terrence's revolver problemo. If dumbazz doesn't nail Dragon Gal over this, he's lost amidst Milt's stilted editorial restraint.

Golden Tempo's mind blowing upset win study with endless video analysis has sidelined this track crow until Preakness time.
He will not run at Pimlico, so his aberrance remains wonderous conjecture and internal recrimination.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Oi see, Doctarr," sighs Ma into the telephone. "Oondarstood. Oi'll tell Bar---ah, Mrs. Scanlan. Ahhl roit. Thank'yee far callin'." She exhales softly, and hangs up the receiver. "Wot did'ee say?" demands Uncle Frank. "Th' fevaaar's brooken," relates Ma. "Thaaat penicillin's takin' caaar'a th' pnoomoonia. Boot'ee's naaaht oota th' woods yet." "Soomthin' new?" hesitates Uncle Frank. "A choild soo yoong," murmurs Ma. "Baaarely a moonth oold. T'be thaat sick-- he's laaast a lotta weight. An' Doctaaar McCann wants t'keep 'im in th' hoospital oontil they can -- well, he wants t'keep 'im in th' hoospital." "Hooow long?" trembles Uncle Frank. "As loong as it takes," shrugs Ma. "We can feed 'im joost as well at hoom," protests Uncle Frank. "Tharr's oothar things, Francis," warns Ma. "Ensoofaloitis, farr woon." "En-soof--" stammers Uncle Frank. "It means swellin' a' th' brain," explains Ma. "An' whin that happens in a little baby, it caaan mean -- well, it can mean a loota things, an' noon'v'm good." "Has he got it?" whispers Uncle Frank. "We bettar goo oop an' talk t' Barbara," replies Ma....)

("Awlis stuff wit' Gideonse," sighs Sally. "An' I'm missin' out." "Dinchoo get enough wit' t' strike?" shrugs Joe. "Ain'a same," dismisses Sally. "Anyways, ain'choo sicka bein' cooped up in'eeh?" "Eh," ehs Joe. "I been cooped up -- um -- woise places, I been cooped up." "Yeh," acknowledges Sally. "Y'know we ain' even been t'wa bawl game t'is yeeh? Well, I mean, Alice an' me seen'at game in Joisey City, but Ebbets Feel? Ain' beenneh at awl, an' it's a mont' inteh t' season. You eveh get t' feelin' life ain' like it useteh be?" "I try not ta," sighs Joe. Sally walks over to the window and gazes into 63rd Street. "We'eh get'n old," she exhales. "You'n me. When you was a kid, din'cha get sicka ol' people complainin' how life ain' like it useteh be?" "I neveh give it no t'ought," shrugs Joe. "Wheneveh me sisteh complained, she done it in Lit'uanian. An' I don' know enough'a t'at lingo t' know what she was complainin' about." "Soon'zey let us outta heeh," proposes Sally. "Less go see a bawl game. If we can't get inteh Ebbets Feel, less go see t' Bushwicks. Anyt'ing t'get outta t' house." "Yeh," agrees Joe. "S'pose it's betteh'rn goin' t' t'row a brick at Gideonse." "Well," winks Sally, "'we'll see....")

("He pours something in it from a bottle in his drawer. He says it's vitamins.")

(I'm sure the argument was just that polite.)

(I've only known one actual headwaiter in my life, and sweahtagawd, he was exactly like this guy.)

(You're getting warmer...)

(Never drop out of character.)

(Odds that the next story is "Scarlet vs. Amnesia...")

(I'll GO ON STRIKE!)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Ew.

Broadway's come a long way since "Star and Garter."

"Fortunately my husband's a dentist."

In every crowd there's a wise guy.

"When you collapse from physical and emotional exhaustion, you'll find that you no longer care about much of anything. Such is the way of Molech."

It's like watching Babe Ruth play for the Braves.

"Gumptown."

Now that's a salesman.

What ever became of Lana Lonigan?

Now *that* is first-level trolling.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Worker...

Coming events...

 

[Fading Fast]

"Ensoofaloitis, farr woon." "En-soof--" stammers Uncle Frank. "It means swellin' a' th' brain," explains Ma. "An' whin that happens in a little baby, it caaan mean -- well, it can mean a loota things, an' noon'v'm good." "Has he got it?" whispers Uncle Frank. "We bettar goo oop an' talk t' Barbara," replies Ma....

JFC that is not good. Ma didn't answer, does he have it or are they just worried that it might develop?

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Broadway's come a long way since "Star and Garter."

I'd rather shoot myself than sell insurance, but I'd also rather shoot myself than be a clown.

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

It's like watching Babe Ruth play for the Braves.

Her game has lost a few steps since before the war, and, in her game, that's fatal.

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Now that's a salesman.

He completely owned the kid. Fun to see as he so deserves it.

 

[Harp]

Turk was badly handled.

Clark's layin low over Ms O'Brien nupitals sez all folks.

Slits ain't long for life twisted like a pretzel mouthing off to Lady Taranchala.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Ye got to tell'arr," urges Uncle Frank. "Ye shoulda said soomthin' yestarrday." "Oi toold'arr they needed t'keep th' baby farr obsarrvation! McCann said'ee was OBSARRRVIN' faaar th' brain swellin'," counters Ma. "He didn't say he SEEN it yet." "She ought t'knoo," sighs Uncle Frank. "Ought t'knoo WHAT?" retorts Ma. "What could HAPPEN?" "What *could* happ'n?" counters Uncle Frank. Ma inhales, and gazes across the darkened store, the drawn window blinds rattling lightly in the breeze from the overhead fan. "Whin we lived ahhn Kingston Avenarr," she begins, "befaaar ye knoo us, tharr was a fam'ly doon fr'm McCullough's place, name a' Soolivan. They had a boy, a little boy, an' he got sick an' had this ensoofaloitis, this swillin' a' th' brain. An'nee got bettar, boot'ee was nivvar roit aftar that." "What d'ye mean," frowns Uncle Frank. "'Not roit.'" "He was sloow," sighs Ma. "In th' head. He was -- sloow." "Oh, now, Nora," protests Uncle Frank. "Ye can't say that..." "Francis," stares Ma, "look'it this fam'ly. Look'it aaahl th' things happen t'woos. Leonora with'arr hearin'. Joseph get'n -- what happn't'him in th' waaar. Sally -- bein' th' way she is. An' Michael, well..." "Noon'a that's got noothin' t'do with noo swellin'a th' brain," explodes Uncle Frank. "It's loock, Francis," exhales Ma. "Baaaaad loock. If it's gooin' t' happ'n, it happ'ns t' OOS." "A foine thing farr YOU," marvels Uncle Frank, "t'waaarry aboot LOOCK, arrnin' ye livin' as ye do." "Mark me warrds," sighs Ma....)

("I see no sign of infection in the Schreibstein girl," declares Dr. Katzman. "She was first exposed three weeks ago come Monday. If she doesn't develop any symptoms by then, I believe we can end the quarantine." "Alice is still sick," notes Sally. "She's no longer contagious," explains the Doctor. "And her son, and your daughter, are showing full recovery." "What about Misteh Ginsboig?" wonders Joe. "He din' know if 'eed eveh had t' measles." "He was exposed the same day the girl was," shrugs the Doctor, "and if he was going to develop symptoms, given his age, I would expect he would have done so fairly early on. No, I think we're nearing the end." "What if Lottie gets sick t'marra?" wonders Joe. "SHE AIN'T GONNA!" snaps Sally. "I mean -- um -- I soitenly hope t'at..." "If that happens," sighs Dr. Katzman, his hand on the doorknob, "break it gently to Mr. Pincus...")

("I hope it doesn't have your nose.")

(C'mon, no picture of the new satin suits? I wanna see Billy Herman shimmer!)

("He and the law are strangers." Oh, let's arrange for an introduction!)

(Reap the whirlwind!)

(PUSH HIM IN)

(Look, next time take the bus...)

(Give 'em the big soulful eyes!)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Imogene! Hey, what do you hear from Madeline Webb?

Coming events...

"I don't miss it a bit." -- Ann Sheridan.

You can certainly kid a kidder if you try.

Nah, whatever you're thinking, he couldn't possibly have done it. I mean, look at him.

She's actually an international jewel thief on the lam.

Hard work and chronic depression go very well together.

You wake up one morning and you're that much older, and you wonder how it all happened.

Almost like -- a jackrabbit?

He doesn't have to take his socks off, he doesn't even wear any!

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Worker...

"Thank you for your service."

 

[Fading Fast]

"If that happens," sighs Dr. Katzman, his hand on the doorknob, "break it gently to Mr. Pincus..."



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I wouldn't get too cocky there, kitty, I doubt you'd be getting an endorsement either.

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Imogene! Hey, what do you hear from Madeline Webb?

She really did get away with murder.

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You wake up one morning and you're that much older, and you wonder how it all happened.

Am I imagining it, or is Caniff really drawing her to look older?

 

[LizzieMaine]

I think he is. I don't remember her cheekbones being quite as prominent, and she didn't used to slouch as much as she does now. The years are unkind to us all.

 

[Harp]

I think he is. I don't remember her cheekbones being quite as prominent, and she didn't used to slouch as much as she does now. The years are unkind to us all.

Milt pencils quite a literary strip with Terry and The Pirates. However, grace, beauty, elegance and pneumatic voluptuousness-the last less prominently seen Sino femininity studied this poster Hong Kong, Macau, and Las Vegas, indicates deliberate allure less somatic depraved heart indifference. Dragon Gal has aged rare vintage loveliness as her always exquisite self remains innately cruel.

The Willis assassination attempt was probably performed by a *****man. And last seen, Kovacks remained under review for reopening due poor prosecutorial evidentiary pursuit. Stevens is a prime suspect in a homicide of questionable veracity.

I would advise Mr Gordon Marais were he my client, to wed his girl, Beatrice, and file marriage certificate through local federal immigration office in concert his congressman/woman cognizance said action. And specifying his child's presence on American soil. Somebody needs to talk to this kid.