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The Era -- Day By Day

LizzieMaine

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33,630
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
Brooklyn_Eagle_1944_09_16_1.jpg

("Well, at least th' roof didn't leak," sighs Uncle Frank, flicking his flashlight around his dark and gloomy Flatlands warehouse. "Here, Jimmy," he continues, "whaaat's th' waaard on th' powarr? Didjee do as Oi told ye an' aaask farr Cavenaaar down at th' Edison aaahfice?" "He was pretty soeh, Pop," shrugs Jimmy. "He said them last two cawrtons a' smokes ya sent'im tasted like t'ey come out'va pencil shawrpeneh." Uncle Frank sighs with annoyance. "Doon'ee know," he eyerolls, "tharrr'sa waaar ahhn?" "Show ya beam oveh heeh, woulja?" requests Jimmy, holding up his wrist. "I wanna see what time." Uncle Frank complies, and Jimmy squares his shoulders and takes a deep breath. "I gotta go, Pop," he explains. "If I don' get me rounds done, t'ol' lady'll have me neck. Um, I mean Ma, Ma will have me neck." "Thisss is oonsatisfactory," exhales Uncle Frank. "We gotta find a proparr replacement farr th' Hoppar. Oi need you tendin' t' business here. Don'chee know ANYBODY?" "I dunno, Pop," replies Jimmy, holding out his arms. "Don'cha know t'ezza wawr on?")

A 28-year-old mother of five already facing charges of forging American Legion welfare fund checks now faces a new charge passing a worthless check to a grocer in College Point. Mrs. Josephine Commissso of 10-11 W. 127th Street was arraigned on the new charge in Flushing Court before Magistrate Joseph D'Andrea, and was paroled for a hearing there on September 25th. She is accused of writing a worthless check for $57.50 at the store of Mrs. Adele Bunghardt at 125-19th 20th Avenue. She had been scheduled last Monday to appear in Long Island City Court on charges that she wrote five worthless checks against the welfare account of the College Point American Legion, but she failed to appear. Her bail was revoked and a warrant issued for her arrest. When brought before Magistrate D'Andrea, Mrs. Commisso maintained that she had not received the summons to appear in Long Island City, and her bail was, on that ground, restored.

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("T'at's ya plutocrats fawr yeh," sneers Sally. "Stealin' undehweah. Y'know, I ain' had no new undehweah since befoeh t'wawr, an' when I *did* have new undehweah, it neveh come from no Lawrd n' Tayleh." "I bet t'em Namm's labels impressed Rudy," snickers Alice. "Shuddup!" snaps Sally, flushing red as eyes roll across the car...)

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("I have nothing to do with the Copa. I could prove it but I left all my paperwork in the back of a cab.")

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("Nonsense," says Mr. Costello. "Besides, they can find me any night of the week at the Copa.")

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(The slider? Just a fad.)

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(Just a minute there, Doc. When did you get certification as a marriage counselor? You don't NEED certification? Oh, well, carry on then.)

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("Bucking the ponies? What is this, Red Ryder?)

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("Hm. What would Henry Fonda do?")

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(Shoulda stopped for coffee, kids!)

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(MUSIC: Suspense cue, hold under.)
 

LizzieMaine

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Messages
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Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
And in the Daily News...

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"What's it like in one'a t'em tanks," wonders Joe. "You ever been in one?" "Neh," shrugs the Corporal. "Dowannuh, neithuh." "Aw, c'mon," continues Joe. "Ain'cha curious?" "I nevuh been in no oven," sighs the Corporal, "an' I don' crave t'be in one'a them neithuh!"

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That's not how you spell "trysting."

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While the Allies break the Westwall, Charlie breaks the Fourthwall.

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Funny you should mention that.

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"School! Ah, where's my two-toned corduroy pants!"

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Please welcome today's guest writer, Mr. Raymond Chandler.

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"Oh, that reminds me. Mr. Durocher called again, wants to know if you can come by the ballpark after school today. He says he's desperate."

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"Bide ya time, kid," sighs Alice, "an'nen make a break fawr it!"

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"Besiiiiiiiide an oooopen fiiiiiiiire liiiiiight, I dream my dear of yoooooooooo"

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Y'know, kid, you can mess around with your relatives all you want, but when you mess with the Bell System you mess with TROUBLE.
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,630
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
Brooklyn_Eagle_1944_09_17_Page_1.jpg

("Howcum," queries Leonora, absorbing the morning sunshine next to her mother on the front stoop, "Howcum Willie gets t'go t'school, 'n I don't?" "Y'ain' old'anuff," sighs Sally. "Willie's six, yeh on'y t'ree." "I'm gifted," protests Leonora. "T'at don' matteh f' school," shrugs Sally. "T'ey go by when y'was bawrn. Do'matteh how smawrt y'awr." "I'm smawrt'r'n Willie," declares Leonora, scraping on the concrete step with a shard of brick. "T'at ain' nice t'say, t'ough," sighs Sally. "I'm smawrteh'n Willie," repeats Leonoreh. "He don' know what a slommachine is 'n' I do." "Hmnh," hmns Sally, only half hearing the comment. She glances over at her daughter and shakes her head. "You read'n too many'a t'em funny books oveh t'ya gran'ma's," she sighs. "Anyways, you c'n be too smawrt f'ya own good. Ya betta wawtch'it." "I'm smawrt'er'n YOU," frowns Leonora. "Izzat what t'eh tellin'ya upta t'at clinic?" growls Sally. "I'm gonna have a tawk wit' Docteh Minkoff." "When's Pa comin' home?" queries Leonora. "I dunno," sighs Sally. "I'm smawrteh'n Pa," observes Leonora, "but he don' caeh." "Mmmph," mmphs Sally. Leonora glances down at the column of numbers she has scrawled on the step, and ponders them. She glances over again at her mother. "D' YOU caeh?" she asks. Sally looks back at her daughter. "You really awr," she sighs, "too smawrt f'ya own good...")

Commuter service on the Long Island Railroad yesterday was restored to "practically normal" conditions yesterday following Thursday night's hurricane. But some acknowledged that service lapses remained and commuters themselves were exchanging stories of suffering while they waited, sometimes for hours, for trains that failed to arrive or trains that took many times the normal running time to reach their destinations. Meanwhile, while electrical service has been restored to most of Brooklyn, roughly half of Nassau and Suffolk counties remained without power as of this morning. The total metropolitan death toll from the storm stands at 39, 18 of them in Brooklyn and on Long Island.

Sundown tonight ushers in the Jewish New Year of 5705, as the observance of Rosh ha-Shana begins the ten-day period of Jewish high holy days culminating with the solemn observance of the Day of Atonement, Yom Kippur. Special Rosh ha-Shana services will be observed at every Brooklyn synagogue with numerous public halls and auditoriums rented to accomodate additional worshipers.

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("Izzeh gonna be rides?" enthuses Willie. "Neh," shrugs Krause. "Y'c'n ride t' excalateh," proposes Alice. "YEH!" cheer Willie and Krause.)

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("Dear Bobo, All is forgiven. Well, most of it. You're still a fathead, but I could sure use your arm. Leo.")

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("You should see my bedpost." "What?" "Nuthin'.")

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(Does Petunia Pig wear a wig? I always wondered.)

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(Which reminds me, I wonder what Pat Ryan's up to.)

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(So ends the era of bearded Presidents. Moustaches resume next week!)

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(Lucky Scarlet. Clearly doesn't suffer from seasonal depressive disorder.)

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("They make a WRITUH a Technician Futh Grade?" huffs the Corporal. "Whut's th' awrmy comin' tuh!")

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(PUT DOWN THOSE SHEARS AT ONCE! THEY'RE ONLY TO BE USED FOR CUTTING FABRIC!)
 

LizzieMaine

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And in the Daily News...

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You sure it's not just some guy with a skullcap and a Flit gun?

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Come now, an ascot is never proper when hand-hoeing. An ascot is correctly worn only with morning overalls, while riding a tractor.

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"Over there, the one under the giant floating arrow." "Oh, that's just the minute hand from the church clock. Blew off in the hurricane."

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"That's one way to solve her servant problem." Maybe she can pick some fruit too.

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Um, THAT ISN'T WHAT SHE SAID.

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"Oh, well, then, that's OK."

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Half a page of interesting bird facts and then you SHOOT THE BIRD? I don't think Mr. Mosely will ever make it with a nature strip.

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Yes, it's true, the majority of cheerleaders were men.

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Hey Tula, are you still in town? Check out Skeez's little brother.

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And to think they banned Sally from Loew's Oriental for throwing a brick thru the screen.
 
Messages
17,138
Location
New York City
Which reminds me, I wonder what Pat Ryan's up to.

Pat has been out of the picture a long time. I hope he wrote a good contract and is still getting paid. Kidding aside, I miss him - he's a good character.
 

LizzieMaine

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Messages
33,630
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
Brooklyn_Eagle_1944_09_18_1.jpg

("Yeh," says Sally, "I'm goin' out t'night t'ring dawrbells roun'a neighbehood f' t' A. L. P. Jus' don' let Leonoreh lissen t'none'a t'em radio programs 'bout crooks an' racketeehs an' awlat. She gets enougha t'at stuff fr'm t'em funny books she reads oveh't' stoeh. I dunno what I'm gonna -- hey, awr you lissenin' t'me?" Alice makes no reply, her eyes fixed on one particular story on the Eagle's front page. "Hey," continues Sally. "Awr you LISSENIN' t'me?" Alice hands over the paper and points to the story. "Oh," inhales Sally. "Jeezuz.")

Twenty thousand German soldiers surrendered near the River Loire to a group of 24 Americans who marched them to the American 23rd Division, despite protests by the French, who objected to the Americans' decision to allow the captive troops to retain their weapons. It was explained that the 24 US soldiers did not feel they could adequately protect the German prisoners from the vengeance of the Maquis. The German force under the command of Maj. Gen. Erich Elster, had been harrased for weeks by Maquis guerillas and the U. S. Ninth Air Force, and when it encountered an American patrol led by Lt. Samuel A. McGill of Ashtabula, Ohio, Gen. Elster promptly surrendered.

The Berlin Radio said today that a deep Russian breakthru toward the Latvian capital of Riga created a critical situation for German troops in the Baltics, who would be trapped by a fifteen-mile Soviet advance to the North Sea. Berlin added that other Red Army units were pushing against Nazi defenses between the Vistula and the Bug Rivers northwest of the capital.

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("Ye know, Nora," chuckles Uncle Frank, "sometoimes Oi wondarr if we're gettin' th' moost oota loife." "Hmph," hmphs Ma, tearing the top off a new display box of Tums and sliding it across the counter. Uncle Frank immediately helps himself to two rolls, and Ma frowns, pointing wordlessly at her cash register. Gulping down two of the white tablets, Uncle Frank points at his shirt cuff, and Ma exhales. "Oi dunno aboot gettin' th' moost oota loife," sighs Ma. "But yarr gettin' th' moost oota me stock." "Oi'll settle, Oi'll settle," reassures Uncle Frank, "boot Oi wish me stoomach would. Oi think what Oi need is soom exarrsoise. Whatcha say mee'n you goo out t'one'a these noitclubs. Warr boond t'roon inta soom action. Let's goo upta Flynn's, an' maybe we'll see oom cel-le-brooties poonchin' each oothar in th' face." "Oi'd ratharr goo bowlin'," declares Ma. "Oop t'Mistarr Fitzsimmons' place." "Mistarr Fitzsimmons," scoffs Uncle Frank. "He won't even be tharrr. He's doon in Philly, roonin' that parr excuse farr'a baahl cloob." "Th' parr man," sighs Ma. "Oi wish Oi could doo soomthin' farr'im." "Send'im," suggests Uncle Frank, in the throes of a powerful belch, "a boxa Tooms! An' here now -- poot it ahhn me account!")

Mayor LaGuardia found himself yesterday the butt of a blistering attack from Magistrate Abner Surpless, after 37 neighborhood card players ended up in his courtroom after a pair of weekend raids on the same Brownsville apartment. The raids on the residence at 372 Amboy Street found thirteen of those card players arrested twice. "The people ought to know who in the city is responsible for these 'disorderly conduct' arrests," fumed the Magistrate. "They are entitled to know and the sooner the Mayor gets that in his brain the sooner people won't be annoyed anymore." Surpless went on to declare that "people have a perfect right to play cards in their homes, and even to shoot craps if they so desire, as long as they don't annoy anyone else." He further noted that such games can't be so bad if the Army and Navy furnish cards and dice for the use of men in the service.

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(Tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick ...)

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(The Brooklyn Tigers? That doesn't even make sense.)

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(Yeah, Mary. Pistols at ten paces.)

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(Tsk. Guess you didn't get Magistrate Surpless.)

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(You could just carry the box outside with you. That's it. Nonchalant.)

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(DIDN'T YOUR MOTHER EVER TEACH YOU 'DON'T LEAN ON THE DOOR!')

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(Maybe he's got cookies!)
 

LizzieMaine

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Messages
33,630
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And in the Daily News...

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"Murder Orgy." Keep in mind headlines are often dictated by the space available.

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"Hmph," hmphs Artie Shaw.

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How does Dunkie get the top of his head so perfectly flat?

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I dunno, Gert, the Victory Bob is right in style.

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Well, it had to happen. Go drink a soda, kid.

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Well, as long as everybody's crazy here, we might as well just be going....

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"Hypocritical shade of a witch!" One does admire Mr. Gray's circumlocutions.

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"Well then, more for me." "What?" "Nothing."

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"Oh, is that all? BACK TO BED."
 

LizzieMaine

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Messages
33,630
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
Brooklyn_Eagle_1944_09_19_1.jpg

("Stop ye squaaaarmin'," sighs Ma, rolling over in bed. She slips a glance at the clock on the night table, sees its hands at 3:10, and sighs again. "Oi'm sarrry," gulps Uncle Frank. "It's me stoomach again." "It aaaghta be yarr stoomach," mutters Ma, "aaahl that roast ye poot away. Honestly, Francis, ye eat loike a faarmhand." "Oooooooh," grunts Uncle Frank. "That bloody Shaughnessy craahhsed ye oop again," remonstrates Ma. "Sold ye boom beef." "Oi don't think it's that, Nora," winces Uncle Frank, straining to sit up in bed. "Oi think ye bettar caaahl th' doctarr." "At three a'claaack in the marnin'?" sputters Ma, reaching over to snap on the light. "Nora," exhales Uncle Frank, his head dropping back on the pillow, "caaahl th' doctarr....")

The Berlin radio claimed today that the Soviet Union has thrown sixty-three divisions totalling more than a million men into an offensive into the Baltic states. Moscow radio indicated that the Germans may be attempting to evacuate their forces, numbering about 200,000 troops, from that region. While acknowledging the prospect of a Red Army invasion of Warsaw, the Berlin broadcast declared that the situation in the Baltics "is overshadowing all other action in the east."

Ten German and Romanian military and political leaders including former Premier Marshal Ion Antonescu are being held today by Soviet troops as war criminals. The ten, comprising the primary administrators of Axis rule in Romania, were trapped by the sudden overthrow of the Antonescu government and the swift entry of the Red Army. The report broadcast over the Moscow radio did not state whether the prisoners remain in Romania or if they have already been taken to Russia.

An official inquiry was promised today in Rome into the lynching of a minor Fascist official by a Roman mob, including many women, that broke into the Palace of Justice dragging out the kicking and screaming prisonor with only token resistance by Italian police. Donato Caretta, the assistant director of the Regina Coeli prison under the Mussolini regime, was dragged into the streets by the mob and beaten, his face smashed against the pavement, his teeth knocked out, and his eyes gouged out, before he was thrown, unconscious but still alive, into the Tiber River. Bathers in the river swam over, laughing and cheering, and pushed the floating body about like a rubber water toy as women on the shore laughed and threw stones.

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("I mean, I ain' no prude," shrugs Sally. "I jus' do'want Leonoreh read'n'at kinda stuff! I wen'noveh yest'day t'pick'eh'rup afteh woik, an' she was sittin'eh onna floeh by t'magazine rack read'nis book cawlt "Hollywood D'tective." I take it awayf'rm'eh, an' it's awl fulla t'is stuff 'bout t'is guy Dan Toineh, an'neese awrways bustin' in apawrtments an'nezza gal inneah inneh undehweah. I ask ya!" "Oh yeh," nods Alice. "I seen'at book. An'nee awrways cawls a gat a 'roscoe.' Heh, nobody cawls a gat a 'roscoe,' t'ey cawllit a gat awra rod or heat. Y'know, 'ya packin' heat?'" "Howda YOU know?" demands Sally. "Oh," stumbles Alice. "I hoid it in a movie." "Ah," ahs Sally...)

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(Five quarts of beer? Careful going over the trolley tracks!)

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("Oh, now that's just science fiction stuff!")

The chaplain of the Third Naval District warned a group of beauty and fashion editors recently that "the Fifth Avenue career girl, with her lacquered makeup, her man-tailored suit, and her stiffly held shoulders" may be, "for all her up to date smartness, frightening to the average man." Captain M. M. Witherspoon called for a resurgence of "natural charm" in the postwar era, fresh and romantic looking rather than "ultra and exotic," with subtle makeup and "eyebrows as God made them."

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(Good luck, Fitz. You'll need it.)

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("The Elm City Crowd." Yeah, they're a rough bunch.)

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(Just how carefully does this lodge vet its officers?)

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("You maids! Wait'll the war's over!!")

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("Sigh," sighs Alice.)

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(Ghosts don't make any noise? Someone's unclear on the concept.)
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,630
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
And in the Daily News...

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More details just make it worse.

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Kids today.

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Of course, Gertie broke her glasses in 1911.

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Poor Mama.

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"Well, I'm not dealing with that terrible Mr. Shaughnessy again, so you can just forget that! Do you know what the emergency room charges?"

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It's a living.

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"Of course you realize this means war! HEY! I'M STUCK!"

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"How far's the drop from that window?" "What?" "Nuthin'."

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Whatever became of April Kane?

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"The east-facing cell gives you a lovely view of the sunrise."
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,630
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
Brooklyn_Eagle_1944_09_20_1.jpg

("Well," shrugs Sally, "at least t'butteh shawrtage 'll help." "It's not fonny, daughter," frowns Ma. "A bleedin' ulcer ain't noothin' t'jook aboot. He was starrt'n t'hemorrhrage, an' if Oi hadn' got'n'im t'th' doctarr, he cooulda died." "He's gonna be awright, t'ough," queries Sally, her face clouding. "Ain'ee?" "He will if'ee does loike th'doctarr tells'im," exhales Ma. "Bland diet, farrr woon thing. No marr caaarned beef, no marr ham, no maar pot roasts. Got to cut way back aaahn th' salt an' the grease. An' no coffee. He's gett'n milk toast f'breakfast, an' fish far soopar, an' 'e'll waaash it doon with Postum, like it arrnot. An' most oov aahl he's got to quit thim bloody cigars." "Ah," inhales Sally. "Indeed," sighs Ma.)

Marines holding almost the entire east side of Peleliu Island began the final phase of their campaign today digging out stubborn Japanese from ridge pillboxes while Army troops nearly completed the occupation of nearby Angaur. Front dispatches say 1st Division Marines, veterans of Guadalcanal, had battered thru viciously defended Japanese positions to seize all primary objectives, including Peleliu Airdrome and the town of Ngardololok.

Russian troops marched today into Finland to enforce the terms of a stern armistice with that twice-defeated country, calling for large territorial and cash reparations, and, according to an authoritative source, complete isolation of all borders and means of communication for a period of two months. Deputy Premier Ernst von Born, in a somber radio address to the Finnish people, called the terms of the armistice the price the Finnish people must pay for their former alliance with Nazi Germany.

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("All right," says Mr. Schroth. "Now that that's settled, deal me in.")

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("I mean, t'eh wazzis one old lady back home in Pigtown, she'd awrways try'n get outta payin' awff bets.")

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("OOOOOtmeal!??" bellows Uncle Frank as the nurse brings his dinner. "TAKE IT AWAY!")

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(Look, Tommy, if you're going to tease us with the prospect of a whole column of Van Lingle Mungo stories, and then just use him to lead into some boring catcher, I'm just not going to read you anymore. I bet Paul Richards never even met a matador.)

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(NO NECKING IN THE BALCONY)

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(Every corner has its candy store.)

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(A .25 automatic? I thought reporters carried revolvers.)

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("Hey Ma," queries Willie. "Howcum ya cryin'?" "Nut'n," sighs Alice. "Jus' choppin' onions." "I don' see no onions," notes Willie. "T'ez awrways onions," sobs Alice.)

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(Proverbs 13:20.)
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,630
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
And in the Daily News...

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One more reason not to get mixed up with phony counts.

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"Coming events..."

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Good choice, Jess. He's a step up from that pill you married.

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Sure, the BOTTOM line.

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"I dunno. Maybe get a raccoon coat and a ukulele and go to college!"

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We pause for today's installment of "Farm Equipment Facts," brought to you by your good friends at Ray-O-Vac. Remember -- save the battery and you save all!

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"Swell! Red with a white collar?" "Flour sack with three holes!"

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"Besides, I've found fifteen cents down here, and your Willkie button."

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You're slipping, Burms.

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Moon must have a very high center of gravity to be able to do that.
 
Messages
17,138
Location
New York City
"A bleedin' ulcer ain't noothin' t'jook aboot. He was starrt'n t'hemorrhrage, an' if Oi hadn' got'n'im t'th' doctarr, he cooulda died."

Curing ulcers is another one of those great medical advancements that we all take for granted since the cure has been around so long few of us know/remember anyone who had them before they discovered a cure.

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

I'm confused about these card game arrests in private apartments. I though they were for people who effectively had turned their apartments/houses into gambling parlors, but this reads like its just people and their genuine friends and family playing for stakes amongst themselves, which would be beyond idiotic to start arresting people for. Does anyone know what is really going on here?

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

If I'm reading between the lines correctly today in "The Inquiring Fotographer," Ms. Mary T. McNamara is being, umm, urr, uh, "satisfied" by her husband in a way that she wan't before the war. It's probably best if she doesn't ask too many question.

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

LizzieMaine

Bartender
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I think that's exactly what's going on here -- Butch has gone on a rampage about neighborhood penny-ante games such as my mother used to run, and Surpless has, as the kids say today, "clapped back." I bet Commissioner Valentine thinks every day about retirement.

My grandfather, like poor Uncle Frank, suffered terribly from ulcers. He preferred Rolaids to Tums, but the effect was the same. And he never did manage to give up smoking.

I wonder if Mr. McNamara is serving in France.
 
Messages
17,138
Location
New York City
I think that's exactly what's going on here -- Butch has gone on a rampage about neighborhood penny-ante games such as my mother used to run, and Surpless has, as the kids say today, "clapped back." I bet Commissioner Valentine thinks every day about retirement.

My grandfather, like poor Uncle Frank, suffered terribly from ulcers. He preferred Rolaids to Tums, but the effect was the same. And he never did manage to give up smoking.

I wonder if Mr. McNamara is serving in France.

Thank you for responding, but I'm still a bit confused Re the gambling games - are you saying they are just genuine friends and family games run by someone like your mom, or mini gambling parlors that took in strangers and was an full-on for-profit enterprise?

I had a great uncle with ulcers who died when I was very young, but I do remember he had to have "special" food - plain chicken, milk, Uneeda Biscuits, etc. I know you and I are about the same age - 60 - but ask anyone ten or, definitely, 20 years younger than us and ulcer are like Tetanus is to us.
 

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