The Era -- Day By Day

[Harp]

^ Nota bene that Baffert is at Churchill Downs with sub par Litmus Test and fenceliner Potentate; neither of whom are probable board hitters, much less winner circle caliber Californians. I suspect Baffert is showing the flag, going through motions for whatever rhyme or reason. Watch Saturday's late afternoon pools to see how much money Baffert still draws. Amateur marks who line windows, white middle age male, middle level executives wearing Bermuda shorts, NIKE shoes, white socks raised toward knee, wrapped calf and topped Ralph Lauren polo shirts. Idiots peeling off sawbucks just to feel in the game. ******* derbyers who show up every year and feed the pari mutuel pig trough. My profitable side hustle enablers. And Baffert's running around Downs and town lifting his own petard with two punks not remotely likely to punch paper and even less to crash Circle.

As Aristotle remarked, ''It is the geometer's business to know that circular wounds heal more slowly; and the physician's business to know the reason why.''--Posterior Analytica

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Hol' still, willya?" directs Sally. "Jeezuz, ya woise'n Leonoreh." "Ya pullin' out me eyelashes wit't'at t'ing!" protests Alice. "Sawry, sawry," sighs Sally. "I'll jus' dab atcha. T'eh. Awright, Krause, now you do it." "Yeh," agrees Krause, taking the warm, wet washcloth and dabbing it at the yellow encrustation sealing his wife's eyelids closed. "T'at's right," nods Sally. "You got it. Awright, Alice, now try'n open'm. Easy now, don' pull awnum witcha fingehs..." "I hate t'is," grumbles Alice. "Who eveh hoid'va grown up woman foehty yeehs ol' havin'a measles?" She blinks and gets her bearings. "Whatcha lookin' at?" she demands. "Am I funny lookin'?" "Neh," reassures Krause, gently pushing her back to her pillow. "How's Willie?"she exhales. "Izee eat'n anyt'ing?" "Missis Ginsboig made a big ket'la chicken brawt'," replies Sally. "She made enough f' ev'rybody. Must be t'ree a' foueh chickens' woit' inneh. I got a jawr of it out'na kitchen heatn' up awna stove. I'll give 'im some, an' I want you t' have some too." "I don'wanno food," groans Alice. "Chicken brawt' ain' food," declares Sally. "It's medicine!" "Yeh!" seconds Krause, heading into the kitchen for a bowl...)

("Heckie draaaapped aaaff ye bag," announces Uncle Frank, tossing the canvas pouch on the counter. "Thim baseball bets aaar makin' ye good mooney. Now, if ye ask --" "Be quoiet," admonishes Ma, cupping her hand over the telephone mouthpiece. "Oi'm on th' -- ah, Doctor. This is Nora Leary, on Rogaaars Avenarr. Callin' aboot Miss -- uh -- that is t'say MRS. Scanlan's baby. Roit. At Lieb's Luncheonette. Ye wanted me to call if -- well, he's roonin' a fevarr -- that's roit, Oi did that not ten minutes agoo. A hoondred an' two. -- Noo, he's breathin' aaahl roit, but 'is nose is roonin' a little, an' 'ees fussy an' restless. -- No, she's naaaht shooin' no symptoms, so -- No, no, the baby's doown in our room, she's oopstairs by'arrself. -- Ahhl roit, Oi'll be lookin' faaar ye. Th' stoor's aaahl locked oop, so coom in th' door -- roit, the one in between th' stoor an' Saaaargeant Solly's. Roit. Joost coom oop th' stairs. Oi'll be wait'n faar ye. Thank'yee, Doctor. Goodbye thin." With a deep breath, Ma hangs up the phone, and turns to her husband. "Doon't say noothin' t' Barbara," she directs. "She oota know," argues Uncle Frank. "Tharr's noothin' she can do," insists Ma, "an' tharr's noo use gett'narr worried. We'll see what th' doctarr says, an' thin we'll figyarr what t' do." From above comes a sharp cry. "Noothin' wrong with 'is loongs," shrugs Uncle Frank. "Yaaar mooth," sighs Ma, "t' Gaaaahd's ear...")

("Ya mean!" snarls Lottie Schreibstein, her arms folded with disdain. "I'm t' meanest one man," agrees Solly Pincus, "t'at eveh lived." "Why CANT I go see a movie!" stamps Lottie. "I dowanna sit in'eeh awl day an' awl night! I wanna go t' t' Colony! I wanna see "T' Missin' Cawrpse!" "You can't go t' NO MOVIE," scowls Solly, "cause we'eh inna QUARANTINE! An' jus' cause YOU ain' got sick yet don' mean y'AIN'T GONNA! An' b'sides t'ey don' let lit'l goils see movies 'bout no cawrpses!" "T' Colony lets anybody in'at's gotta quawrteh!" argues Lottie. "Look," exhales Solly. "I'll make a deal. You go siddown an' read'a book an' lemme woik awnese papehs, an' t'night y'can lissen t' whatcha wanna onna radio." "Oh," brightens Lottie, her mood shifting instantly. "C'n I lissen to th' Fat Man?" "Neveh hoid'v 'im," denies Solly. "Heezis guy goes aroun' gett'n in fights," exults Lottie, "anee chases crooks an' moidehrehs an' awlat stuff. An'ee's fat!" "T'at soun's stupid," frowns Solly. "I WANNA GO T' MOVIES!" screams Lottie. "Awright," exhales Solly, gripping his pounding head. "You can' lissen t' t' Fat Guy a'whatteveh'rit is." "See now," chortles Lottie. "Wasn'at easy?" "I hate kids," mutters Solly...)


(TOLD YA YOU SHOULDN'TVE SOLD 'IM!)

(You know, Joe Palooka has his own strip.)

(Alllllll right then, that's that. When do we eat?)

(Really, the only reason to have a pool is to push unwanted people into it.)

(Sure, stiff the cabbie. You'll be sorry someday!)

(Hey, anybody seen Trix lately?)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

"I'd like to get a job with the Americans." Oh, wait a few years.

Mr. Powers doesn't seem like the julep-sipping, seersucker-wearing Southern gentleman type where the sun shines bright, etc, but it'll be interesting to see where this goes...

(10 percent DDT, 90 percent pure grain alcohol...)

"The child must learn that life is an endless vail of suffering and pain. It is the way of Molech."

Might need to be a bit deeper, too.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go lie down and rest my eyes. Your sport coat has blistered my retinas."

Stop and think, if you will, just how important Andy must be to his local economy...

Gotta keep up payments on that toupee...

Wear your dancing shoes...

You know, if Moon really wanted to apply himself, he could have a fine career as a movie stuntman.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Worker...

You don't say.

 

[Fading Fast]

"T' Colony lets anybody in'at's gotta quawrteh!"

Growing up in the '70s, there were a few obscure theaters that didn't pay the ratings system any attention either.

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

Really, the only reason to have a pool is to push unwanted people into it.

Or a pond.

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

"I'd like to get a job with the Americans." Oh, wait a few years.

There is so much good stuff in that short article. Just one chestnut:

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

Stop and think, if you will, just how important Andy must be to his local economy...

Stop and think, if you will, just how important Andy Bim must be to his Andy's local economy...

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

Gotta keep up payments on that toupee...

I confused the players yesterday, but this makes sense. Wallet and Bobbles needs to dissolve itself.

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

You don't say.

It's an argument; there are plenty of counterarguments, too.

 

[Harp]

Jeane Wilson's safe return is wonderful news. Her amnesia is troubling but perhaps manageable.

Trinchillo's retraction of his murder confession and subsequent contested claim of innocence amounts a crashed defense tied a public defender. Pre-lawyer statements and signed confessions are the Banquo lingering ghost haunting trial courtrooms. Miranda v Arizona will come later, but for now his counsel must try expunge his client's self incriminatory damnation. Good luck shaking hands with Lucifer, Prince of Lawyers.

William Benjamin is a gambling addict, virulence drug as potent bad **** heroin. Amateur need for the rush that leads ruin. Circa 1945, $800,000 isa lotz a pesoes babycakes. Take a lawyer's advice: make bail somehow; and run fast.

Our lad has invite for tea and sympathy (absolutely exceptional Deborah Kerr film), which portends ecstasy,
however flaccid foolscap strip scribbled across spells chaste encounter. Count on it.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("MacAwrteh," sneers Sally as she picks at her dinner. "I hope HE gets t' measles!" "Moeh like t' measles," deadpans Joe, "get MacAwrteh." Sally blinks, and allows herself a chuckle. "I'm glad youc'n laugh 'bout awlis," she eyerolls. "I'm exhawsted. I wasn' cut out t' be no noice. Alice ain' cut out t'be no patient, neit'eh. Keeps try'na get up an' do stuff an' halft'a time it ain' even nut'nat NEEDS t'be done. You know t'ey neveh leave a dish inna sink downeh? It's like Betteh Homes'n Gawrdens." She sighs and pushes her plate away. "I can't eat nut'n, I'm too tiehed," she exhales. "I'll go in an' have a look at Leonoreh, an'nen I'm goin' t'bed." "I put'eh t'bed when you was down'a Krauses'," shrugs Joe. "She wan'ed me t' read to 'eh, ain'at funny? I ain' done'at since -- you know, befoeh --um -- I got drafted." "Huh," huhs Sally. "Ain' it funny how a kid'll whatchacawl regress whenneh sick. We loint 'bout t'at in psychology class. What'cha read'eh?" "Ah," ahs Joe. "She wan'ed a stawry. She din' like none'a t'em kids' books, so I read'eh sum'pn out'a ya New Masses. T'is t'ing inneh 'bout 'Is Man a Necktie?' Put 'eh right t' sleep." "Ah," ahs Sally. "Well," she adds, as she pulls out the folding bed, "y'won' hafta read it t' ME...")

("I wanna see 'im," demands Bink Scanlan. "Ain'ee my kid? Ain' I gotta right?" "We caaan't have YOU gettin' sick too," rebuts Ma. "I tol' ye, he's foine. Now g'wan back oopstairs befaaar I swat'chee woon." "I hoid 'im coughin'," insists Bink. "That waaas Francis," huffs Ma. "Pretty high pitched coughin' f' HIM," snorts Bink. "His shaaaarts shroonk in th' waaashin'," snaps Ma. "Now GO!")

(Mr. Lichty found a few gag ideas from last year.)

(Honestly, getting your hand caught in a pitching machine has to be the worst baseball injury ever. Poor Cookie.)

(Maybe SHE needs the whip.)

(SURE IT'S ALL ABOUT YOU)

(Just keep pushin' 'em in!)

(What was that about "accidents will happen?")

(I hope there isn't another car coming...)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

He's still got money? Well, the ponies will soon fix that.

All's well that ends.

"But I guess I can put a daybed in the waiting room here. $25 a month plus utilities."

You think so, do ya?

Seems like a pretty complicated plot to unload some swampland. Talk to him for five minutes and he'd jump over the desk to sign the contract.

There are times when "think best of your fellow man" doesn't always work.

Relax in the comfort of your own delusions.

You haven't sensed the trend, son.

IMPUDENT PUPPY!

"Don't tell me he intends to leave."

 

[Fading Fast]

Honestly, getting your hand caught in a pitching machine has to be the worst baseball injury ever. Poor Cookie.

Yes, sounds awful. That said, I'm not sure I'm buying the diagnosis, "...the hand heeled, but the trouble worked up to the elbow." My guess is the calcium deposit had developed over time and this might have brought it to light.

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

There are times when "think best of your fellow man" doesn't always work.

Sadly, none of those nice-sounding aphorisms work all the time.

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

IMPUDENT PUPPY!

There are few stupider things in life to do than to tell a beautiful woman her looks are slipping.

 

[Harp]

Voir dire jury selection in the Turk murder trial ultimately impress prospective jurors' conscience as condemning a fourteen year old to death is obviously a life imprisoning memory. ''Voir dire'' is Latin for to speak truth. My sister was once called to jury service in a traffic homicide drunk driver case. She was asked whether she could objectively weigh the factual evidence and capital punishment resultant cost. At the time a hospital emergency department medical staff, her reply was direct. She'd vote guilt toward electric chair, and volunteer to throw the switch. Not chosen, let go.

George Vanderbilt seems to have skipped the war and his wife, though perhaps not the former. He has however opened his wallet unnecessarily; which will cost him in the reported family customary manner. And that kid Ochener stationed Hawaii and tagged statutory *****t with a fifteen year old girl.... Ochener is active duty under the UCMJ, or Uniform Code of Military Justice, which is much more severe statutory **** than pre statehood Hawaii territorial statute. He'll need the family consigliere for this mess. And mama lion will come too.

Dragon Gal is tense, Terry, go slow and proceed with caution. A little verbal foreplay kiddo and take 'er easy. Geez,
right out the gate and he starts with sarcasm.

Pisanti was charged murder deuce. Acey deucey wild is ridiculous when she obviously showed mens rea deliberate intent; however, this came with her plead as they had her on first, but she was allowed second base with a twenty year ceiling, which the learned trial judge remarked for his reputation. He should have stopped prosecutorial shenanigans and insisted a dice roll jury verdict first degree murder.

-----

Silent Tactic was scratched Saturday by Marc Casse for a hoof bruise so will not run, replaced Great White; whose final eigth last prep was 14.87 seconds. A harginger for failure. No loss and a toss.

 

[Harp]

Silent Tactic was scratched Saturday by Marc Casse for a hoof bruise so will not run, replaced Great White; whose final eigth last prep was 14.87 seconds. A harginger for failure. No loss and a toss.

Voted early, got my analysis in. No doubt will revisit betting box TVG tomorrow for another lick; however the
Kentucky Derby is its own standard anvil against which horse steel will be hammered across oval forge environ.
Chief Wallabee and Commandment top Win list; others such as kid shooter Emerging Market; enigma Danon Bourbon; The Puma; and So Happy for trad dice roll puched my initial superfecta tickets.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Ohhhhhhhhhh," moans Alice, putting aside her bowl of broth. "I can't eat nut'n, Sal. I tried, but I can't..." "You gotta eat," frowns Sally. "Yeh,'' agrees Krause. "See?" declares Sally. "Ev'rybody's tellin' ya. "Eat. Willie had a whole bowl awready, an'nee wants s'moeh. Ain'at right?" "Yeh!" exclaims Krause, running to fetch his son's bowl for a refill. "Izzee awright?" " groans Alice. "He's gett'n betteh," assures Sally. "Not'eh coupla days, t' rash is gonna go down an'na feveh's gonna break, an'ee'l be up'na'roun' befoeh ya know it." "I'm bein' punished, Sal," laments Alice. "Awlem t'ings I done wrawng in me life, it's t' reckonin'. Lissen, is it allowed if a Fawt'eh comes in whennezza quarantine? I gotta get right wit' Gawd bef'oeh'rits too late." "I don' t'ink it is," shrugs Sally. "But if y'want, I'll get Sammy t'go oveh't choich an' ask'im if 'e'll lay down onna sidewawk out'eeh so y'c'n tawk to him t'ru t' windeh." "Yawr a holy poisson, Sal," sighs Alice, teetering on the edge of delerium. "I don' caeh what ev'rybody says...")

("I'm very concerned," frowns the doctor. "Infection in a infant this young can easily lead to pneumonia. Should that develop, we'll have no choice but to place him in an oxygen tent." "Oh," quavers Ma. "Ye can do that here, thoo. Can'chee?" "Should it become necessary," replies the doctor, "hospitalization would be indicated. I'm afraid the level of care he would require would be beyond your ability to provide here." "Oi nivvar had sooch trooble as this," headshakes Ma, "with me oon children." "They were much older," points out the doctor. "Isn't that so?" "Oi had bettar tell Barbara," exhales Ma. "Would you prefer that I speak with her?" offers the doctor. "Let's booth go," proposes Ma. "Oi know how to talk to 'arr." They step into the hallway and climb the stairs to the third floor. "Befaaaar ye goo in," advises Ma, "I'll waarn ye t' button ye coot." "Hm?" hms the doctor. "And,' adds Ma, as she reaches for the doorknob. "keep yaaar hands in yarr pockets...")

(It could happen.)

(Youth movement flopping? PITY YOU SOLD ROSEN.)

(Ahh, c'mon, rassling's where the real money is.)

("Well there's nothing BETTER to do in this stupid town!")

(POOL FIGHT POOL FIGHT)

(America's Number One Hero Dog is here to take all the credit!)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Ahhhh, Count Alfred. Have you ever met Mrs. Langford?

We've come a long way since 1942.

"Stop complaining, it's cheaper to let the neighbors feed him!"

And with that, Mr. Gump became the talk of the hardware store...


Don't wake him up, he's had a hard day.

Now let's not get metaphysical here..

"You got all this in writing, right?"

Let's all hope Harold doesn't live long enough to land on 4Chan.

"No, no, Daddy, that was some girl."

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Worker...

Unless you're stuck in a measles quarantine.

 

[Fading Fast]

Ma: "I'll waarn ye t' button ye coot." "Hm?" hms the doctor. "And,' adds Ma, as she reaches for the doorknob. "keep yaaar hands in yarr pockets..."

Doctor: "Why?"

Ma: "Just do as I tell ya."

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

Ahhhh, Count Alfred. Have you ever met Mrs. Langford?

There is no Mrs. Langford and there has never been a Mrs. Langford, nor did the non-exited Mrs Langford have a husband who was shot and killed. None of that ever happened.

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

We've come a long way since 1942.

The two reporters had so much fun writing that article - like naughty schoolchildren.

 

[Harp]

Turk taking the stand indicates his counsel will show horse defend him; meaning a sympathetic mercy try.
Trinchillo will not sit for stand wherein he'd be subject cross. However, prosecution availing a ten year old girl to ascertain defendant locus proximity tells tale a tenuous weakness. Trinchillo's lawyer will make motion for directed verdict after prosecution rests to keep this away from the jury by attacking case through trial judge verdict. ...Leif Erickson's spousal severance is erroneous as both are complicit Susan's death.

Ms Eleanor Rose caught my eye in Sports. And Mary Worth is heating up. Missed Terrence today.

----
Checked betting pools this morning and Baffert is raking in a fair amount of handle.
So too Renegade for win betting, however he's a slow start gate break and rail subject box. He might nab third or fourth for a piece but not find himself a perfect trip.

 

[LizzieMaine]

Oop, missed T&TP this morning -- will post when I get home from work tonight.

 

[Fading Fast]

Oop, missed T&TP this morning -- will post when I get home from work tonight.

I thought maybe Terry needed a day off to recover from the beating,

 

[Harp]

Having learned women are beyond rational conjecture, and, most reluctant to lend any lad advice said regard,
I will however say Terry needs to slow tract Dragon Gal. She's a slow burn simmer start, but sense more than business at hand here. And our lad has a real shot at her. Lance Romance signing off here, Walter Winchell is next on your radio dial folks, so keep it here and dear.

 

[LizzieMaine]

Never forget Terry met the DL when he was 12. She's a maternal figure to him.