The Era -- Day By Day

[LizzieMaine]

("Whatcha doin'?" queries Joe, entering the kitchen to find Sally with her head poked up the open dumbwaiter shaft. "She's a SPY," asserts Leonora. "She's SPYIN' on SOLLY PINCUS!"" "Keep quiet," hisses Sally. "I dowannobody t' heeh." Joe reaches into the icebox for an open can of tomato juice, and pours himself a glass as he considers his next question. "Why?" he finally inquires. "I wanna heeh," Sally replies, withdrawing from the opening and carefully pulling down the door, "if Lottie's sick." "Whyn'cha jus' ask?" shrugs Joe. "Cause if I DO," reasons Sally, t'kid'll PRETEN' she's sick! Jus' t'get Solly's GOAT!" "Huh? huhs Leonora, tipping her good ear toward her mother. "Neveh min'," mutters Sally, wiping the grime from the dumbwaiter off her face. "Anyways, I din' heeh nut'n. If she was sick she'd be screamin'eh head awff. An' you hoid what Docteh Katzman said, if we c'n get t'ru t'marreh, we'eh inneh cleeh. Ain'choo excited t' get backta woik?" "Even if we get outta heeh," notes Joe, "t' stoeh's still closed till Bink ain't contagious." "Oh," ohs Sally. "I din' t'inka t'at." "Sammy tol' me t'eh was a cawl from Ma t'day," Joe continues. "T'baby's real sick, an' Bink's takin' it pretty hawrd." "Din' t'ink she haddit inneh," marvels Sally. "I guess y'c'n neveh tell." "Lottie says Solly Pincus is in love wit' Bink Scanlan," injects Leonora, reaching down to greet Stella the Cat. "T'at kid," snorts Sally. "What a brat." "Solly ain't t' type," declares Joe. "Especially wit' somebody like Bink." "I t'ink," agrees Leonora, "t'at Lottie is stupid. But I hope she don' get sick..")

("I hoid," declares Miss Kaplan, "t'at evr'ybody in Joe's fam'ly is sick wit' a disease." "Eh," ehs Mozelewski, poring over his account books. "An' I HOID," Miss Kaplan adds, "t'at his wife is t' one t'at caused it. She was out runnin'eh mout' inna street an' a buncha goims flew right in, an' she come home wit' a reg'leh epidemic. We gotta do sum'pin!" "Eh," repeats Mozelewski. "An' I'll tell ya sump'n else!" continues Miss Kaplan. "I was oveh'rawn Rogehs Aveneh t'is mawrnin', jus' by c'wincidence, y'unnehstan', an' I seen'at stoeh a't'ez awl closed up. An' I'm jus' stanin'eh 'crawsta street, jus' mine'in my own business, an' I seen a cawr drive up an' I seen a guy jump out wit'a docteh's bag an'nee runs right in!" "Huh," huhs Mozelewski. "We gotta do sump'n!" repeats Miss Kaplan. "Y'can," agrees Mozelewski. "Go oveh'na awffice t'eh, an' gimme a new pencil...")

(If the baseball thing doesn't work out, I'm sure the Pasquels could have some fun with horse racing.)

(Throwing over a table? A whip? I had no idea Mr. Ryder was so religious.)

(The fake swami business is in fact highly regulated.)

(Sigh. And I ate an English muffin for supper.)

(Don't they have a law like that in Valley Stream?)

(I mean, what is it with the whips lately? I miss when Uncle Bim used to go around caning people.)

(His artistry has only thrilled thousands? Don't give up your day job, Hank.)

(Can't we have a good cyclone or a flood or a landslide or something?)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

We're getting an awful lot of "ew" days lately. And c'mon, Miss Jones, everybody knows you take your shoes off befoe stepping on the scale.

Joe and Sally in 1937 were, they like to think, a bit more dignified about it...

You can see a lot by looking.

I have a traumatized feral cat who finally came out from under the bed after more than three years, so I guess Granpa has a point.

I actually did this with my last baby tooth. It not only came out, it ricocheted off the bathroom wall, and disappeared down the toilet. Ah, memories.

You just know he bought that jacket at Davega. They threw in the insignia for free.

The DL has a sister in America.

Hmph, they'll never let you in the union.

It pays to have connections.

Sarge really should be running the whole company.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Worker...

Come the revolution...

 

[Fading Fast]

This can only be good for Mozelewski. He was ahead of the wave. I hope he has a long-term lease.

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

If the baseball thing doesn't work out, I'm sure the Pasquels could have some fun with horse racing.

The American owners have some nerve, as, I have to admit, I agree with the Daily Worker. But I'm guessing the DW and I would part company, as I believe employment freedom works both ways. The personal irony is that I live in a very, very blue city, tucked inside a very blue state and I've been an "at will" employee my entire career.

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

Don't they have a law like that in Valley Stream?

Good one.

Also, kudos to the natives, it's a original line; you have to give them that.

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

The DL has a sister in America.

Same high cheekbones.

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

Come the revolution...

I'm on the side of the players, but is there enough money here to support a league? Or, instead, is it just the Pasquels' vanity project, which means it's all very tenuous.

 

[LizzieMaine]

It's a little of both, I think -- the Mexican League has been around a long time, and regularly featured American players absorbed from the N egro Leagues, which don't have the reserve clause in their contracts. But the Pasquels are also one of the richest families in Mexico from their cigar business, and there doesn't yet seem to be any limit to the money they're willing to spend on baseball.

Note that these injunctions are naming various American newspaper columnists as defendants. How'd they not mention Bill Mardo or Jimmy Powers? And how do they think that's going to hold up in court?

 

[Fading Fast]

It's a little of both, I think -- the Mexican League has been around a long time, and regularly featured American players absorbed from the N egro Leagues, which don't have the reserve clause in their contracts. But the Pasquels are also one of the richest families in Mexico from their cigar business, and there doesn't yet seem to be any limit to the money they're willing to spend on baseball.

Note that these injunctions are naming various American newspaper columnists as defendants. How'd they not mention Bill Mardo or Jimmy Powers? And how do they think that's going to hold up in court?

Good point. It will be fun to watch this play out as I had only the vaguest memory of having read about this before. These Day By Days are such a great way to experience history.

FYI, the site keeps "going down" on me (Mac/Safari), so that's why there were two of my posts as I couldn't tell if it took the first time and I didn't want to lose it as I am too busy to retype. So I deleted one and made sure the attachment about the fashion firms moving to Brooklyn shows this time.

 

[LizzieMaine]

There's been a lot of the "Oops something went wrong!" stuff on my end too. Ain't technology swell?

 

[Harp]

The Gilbert case in Michigan, a double homicide sniper killing of two American GIs in Nuremberg, and a mention of Rudolph Hess leads notice. Gilbert is an exception to my personal dislike of capital punishment. His execution is more than deserved. And the dead soldiers were with women staffers inside a jeep when slain. Looks like a ''werewolf's' work, ex-Wermacht caught postwar Germany. And back in the 1970s, a barracks poker session at Ft Campbell, KY occasioned some chatter about Hess after my small television had aired a 60 Minutes segment on Hess. (I watched the CBS show every Sunday, cards not exceptioned) One of the guys-a cook-had been detailed to Spandau Prison for the thirty-day American guard turn over Hess. And he had been asked to prepare an evening meal for the German, and record the returned tray content, if any. He remarked his sense of an ''evil presence'' after tray return.....

Judge Schnackenberg's fetal cognizance with entitled status in Baughman is a landmark testament of fetal viability.
Quicken predicate implicit categorically dismissed as irrelevant. Roe v Wade would come later; however, fetal gestative presence and increased viability within maternal womb are indices that are inescapably tied legal reasoning.

Dragon Gal has it all covered. Terry is a slow poke plane driver supposedly schooled far harsher rhythms, yet lost amidst clouds wherein bright sunshine should roll clear daylight.

The Preakness runs this Saturday. Post draw occurred yesterday. I'm about almost over the Derby shell shock that incongruously validated some fairly basic past performance guidelines for consistent improvement; despite lesser grade race runs with stepped up class competition. Decades playing ponies and still being schooled game rudimentary truths wherein horses are concerned is a most humbling experience. But humility is necessary elixir for the gambler soul. Still, I feel like the peasant forced to play chess board near Inn fire for warmth during winter.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Th' very oidearrr," scolds Ma. "Gettin' that doctaaar t' come oovar'eer so ye could pretend t' have pnooomooniar!" "How'dya know I'm pr'tendin'?" frowns Bink, propped up in her bed as she gazes with distaste at a bowl of chicken noodle soup. "Lissen t'me cawffin'!" She punctuates that last remark with an impressive hack. "Quit smookin them blooody cigarettes," snorts Ma. "Ye troy loitin' oop inn'n oxygen tent, ye'll blooow oop th' whool haaaspital." Bink averts her eyes, and takes a sip of soup. "Thaaaat's it, noow," nods Ma. "Ain't it? Ye WANT t'goo in th' haaaspital soo ye can be with th' baby." "So what?" snaps Bink. "'S'my baby ain'it? Ain' I gotta right?" Ma regards her carefully, searching for a hidden motive. "Hmph," she headshakes. "Th' wrong oidear, faaaar th' roit reason. Ye haaaard what th' doctaaar said, he's doin' bettar. An' yarrr still contagious an' ye caaan't leave th' hoose. So eatchee soup an' stop with ye foolishments." Bink takes another sullen sip. "I could TOO have pneumonia," she mutters, as Ma sighs...)

("One moeh day, an' we c'n get outta heeh," sighs Sally. "Gimme anot'eh one'a t'em donuts," exhales Alice. "Y'had two awready," frowns Sally. "I lawsta lotta weight," argues Alice. "An' when I go out, me clo'es won' fit, an' people gonna laugh at me." "Neh," disagrees Sally. "Nobody laughs at a woman six feet tawl." "Y'd be s'prised," sighs Alice. "Gimme anot'eh donut." With a chuckle, Sally pushes the entire bag across the table. "Yawr'a holy poisson, Sal," nods Alice, thru a mouthful...)

("A yardbird's a yardbird...")

(Aw, why can't we play the Phillies all the time?)

(A chump is a chump is a chump...)

(Didn't we see this whole story before????)

(Poor Janie, never gets to have any fun...)

(Do you get the feeling that Mr. Stamm is getting sick of the whole thing?)

(BECAUSE THAT NEVER WORKS)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

"Natural causes" huh? That's what they're calling it now?

Well YOU try to write a coherent column with all that wild carrying-on in the room next door...

Fifth-dimensional chess.

Ever notice nobody in the comics ever buys anything secondhand?

Better ask HER first.

I can't wait to see what happens when these goofs join the VFW.

"I mean, whattathey want for twenty cents an hour?"

All right, we'll do it the keyhole way...

St. Honey of Assisi.

Some of us would rather not think of that, OK?

 

[Fading Fast]

One, once again we see that there was real opportunity back then for a career in jewelry robbery.

Two, give them credit for moving that 500 lb. safe.

And three, I love that they threw the rugs back into the house. It's kind of a knee to the groin to the people you just robbed.

Also, I wonder if Ma is going to ask Frank why this wholesale plumbing supply biz makes so much money. Which makes you wonder if he is doing something besides wholesale plumbing – hmm. That said, today, the money is raining down on plumbers.

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

Do you get the feeling that Mr. Stamm is getting sick of the whole thing?

He's not alone.

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

"Natural causes" huh? That's what they're calling it now?

It's a very busy Page 4 today. Give Constance credit for taking shot #5 at marriage: the triumph of hope over experience.

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

Ever notice nobody in the comics ever buys anything secondhand?

"Sure, everyone has a nice grip, but me. I'm not complaining, mind you." – Chief

 

[Harp]

Lockwood will be submitted appellate recourse paternity correction as absent a standard gestation nine month period; and DNA ascertain four decades away, somatic gestative occurrence after fallopian traverse is rather fixed. Unless pregancy was ectopic, or other aberrance involved. Still, plaintiff suit has standing.

Selene in Mary Worth is quite the little shrew. Were I Ian McLane, I'd let her go.

Assault nailed the two jewels, and the Belmont Stakes awaits him. A decade ago, I choked the 2016 Belmont Stakes by not drawing a line through Creator's tenth place Derby finish. He had a bad trip and overall was the seventh highest purse winner nationwide. Saturday's Preakness has a full field with an abnormal fourteen entrants with initial traverse parity.

The safe ''cracker'' fools. About six or seven years ago, my 05.00 dawn stroll to the morning downtown Chicago train, I stopped to chat with a local deli owner standing outside his store. Thieves had smashed its front glass and wood door to haul out and away the ATM machine. A real smash n' grab.

Dragon Gal is gorgeous well endowed enticement. Milt strains Terrence at the leash of editorial restraint, the reasons for such prurient precaution continually elude my understanding. But she's shoving opium or cocaine into the interior.

 

[Fading Fast]

It took reading Harp's comments, but finally my dull brain came alive and I realized we have a potential Triple Crown-winner year on our hands. That's always fun stuff.

 

[Harp]

It took reading Harp's comments, but finally my dull brain came alive and I realized we have a potential Triple Crown-winner year on our hands. That's always fun stuff.

Golden Tempo will not run in the Preakness due an ostensible bruised foot, and, millions in stud fee jeopardized accident caused euthenasia. Also, while his Equibase past performance showed consistent admirable improvement, on the whole, the horse was averaged in the Derby deck, not a standout, but I noted him.
And, like a conservative poker player, I foolishly played the percentages instead of my hunch. And with Renegade a slow break gate despite his 11.84 final eighth fraction last prep, and riding a boxed rail, I let a chance of a lifetime slip my fingers. Chief Wallabee and Commandment were solid, but safe.

My sole consolation in my safety foolishness is that Golden Tempo's ride proved historic. And nobody got
Golden Tempo; much less Ocelli, a maiden winner virgin yet to break equine hymen. But did I ever screw this race up. So crestfallen, I may pass the Preakness entirely.

 

[Fading Fast]

Golden Tempo will not run in the Preakness due an ostensible bruised foot, and, millions in stud fee jeopardized accident caused euthenasia. Also, while his Equibase past performance showed consistent admirable improvement, on the whole, the horse was averaged in the Derby deck, not a standout, but I noted him.
And, like a conservative poker player, I foolishly played the percentages instead of my hunch. And with Renegade a slow break gate despite his 11.84 final eighth fraction last prep, and riding a boxed rail, I let a chance of a lifetime slip my fingers. Chief Wallabee and Commandment were solid, but safe.

My sole consolation in my safety foolishness is that Golden Tempo's ride proved historic. And nobody got
Golden Tempo; much less Ocelli, a maiden winner virgin yet to break equine hymen. But did I ever screw this race up. So crestfallen, I may pass the Preakness entirely.

My bad, I meant in 1946 we have a potential Triple Crown winner in Assault as I don't remember if he was or wasn't one (please don't tell me), so the 1946 Triple Crown is as exciting to me as 2026's.

 

[LizzieMaine]

"Well, noo, lads, let's see th' coolar'a ye mooney. Oi'll send Hector aroond this aftaaarnoon t' take ye bets..." -- Ma Leary.

 

[Fading Fast]

"Well, noo, lads, let's see th' coolar'a ye mooney. Oi'll send Hector aroond this aftaaarnoon t' take ye bets..." -- Ma Leary.

Unless Hector is in a hazmat suit, I'm not going near him until the quarantine is lifted on your place. I've found there are a few other, umm, uh, places to send my business to while you've been locked down.

 

[Harp]

My bad, I meant in 1946 we have a potential Triple Crown winner in Assault as I don't remember if he was or wasn't one (please don't tell me), so the 1946 Triple Crown is as exciting to me as 2026's.

Naw, mine fault Fast, entirely so. My astigmatic narcissism is harsh lector; yelling and boxing ears, since I mistook a royal flush for an inside straight missing place card. With Golden Tempo at 20-1; while Ocelli stood 30-1, and Renegade destined no better than a 2-1 show wild deuce. Knew in my heart downward to soul floor certain. And I'd joked to myself Ocelli's maidenhood. And a #4,#5 All, capping the Fiver was the way to go last fateful chance. Played it safe percentage poker and busted a royal flush of a lifetime.

Assault remains an enigma, best left alone.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Open your mouth now," requests Dr. Katzman, extending a tongue depressor. "Why jus' 'now,' eyerolls Solly Pincus, as Lottie Schreibstein glares murderously at the physician. "Leas' y'coulda done," she scowls, "is let ME eat t' ice cream awffa t'at stick." "She reads t' funny papehs," exhales Solly. "Picks up a lawtta bad influence." "You don't have to stick your tongue out so far," chuckles the doctor, as he shines a penlight down Lottie's throat. "Mmm-hmmm," he nods, switching off the light. "Lottie," he declares, "I am happy to tell you that you do not have the measles." "Oh," ohs Lottie. "Does'at mean I gotta go home?" "YES," proclaims Solly. "It means'at you GOTTA GO HOME." "You sueh'r I ain' sick?" queries Lottie. "Cause I wouldn' mine stayin' a while longeh..." "Don't you miss your family?" chuckles the Doctor, putting his stethoscope back in his bag. "Eh," shrugs Lottie. "T'ey make me go t'bed at nine. Sergean' Solly lets me stay up an' lissen t' Red Skeleton!" "I can't stan' Red Skelt'n..." mutters Solly...)

("Back t' woik t'marra!" exults Sally, carefully ironing her overalls. "F'you, maybe," sighs Joe. "Ma's still gotta quarantine oveh t'eh." "Whyn'cha go oveh an' help out Morrie an' Lil?" suggests Sally. "Big Joe himself, soivin' up t' Specials. It'll be like a poissonal appearance, like when ya had Hilda oveh t' stoeh t'at time." "Eh," ehs Joe. "People wanna see Hilda t'ough. She's whatcha cawl a cellebrutty." "Hilda's an ol' lady t'at yells loud at t' bawlpawrk," contends Sally. "She din' invent a new kin'a hamboigeh. People OUGHTA wanna meet'choo, shake ya han', buy a san'wich from ya." "Ahhhhh," demurs Joe. "An' I hate t'at Big Joe stuff. It's embarassin'. I wisht I'd neveh let Solly tawk me inta'wit." "How many stoehs is Solly got now?" points out Sally. "People look at t'at stupid pitcheh he's got onna sign an'ney know who he is. Yawr'a lot betteh lookin'. An' ya don' sell smelly ol' blankets an' junk, y'sell sump'n people NEED. Go oveh'r'n tawk t' Morrie an' Lil. It'll give ya sump'n t'do till Ma opens up again, an' who knows, maybe ya like bein' a cellebrutty." "T'at's whatcha said," sighs Joe, "when ya tawked me inta ent'rin'a Hawrves' Moon Ball t'at time." "Ain' no shame," declares Sally, "in comin' in fift'." "I still say," mutters Joe, "t'ey put some kin'a grease awnat flooeh...")

(Soft Power.)

(I can do editing like that. WHERE'S MY EAGLE PROFILE?)

("Mister Breadon is not a man of religion," declares Mr. Rickey, "but nonetheless in this instance his theology is sound." "You have a lot of money," points out Mr. Parrott. "And by keeping our players from falling victim to its blandishments," thunders Mr. Rickey, "I am doing the work of the Lord." "Is that why," snorts Mr. Parrott, "you have so many lost sheep in Vera Cruz?")

(Blackmail is to 1946 what amnesia was to 1945.)

(Oh good, quicksand...)

(This better be worth the effort...)

("EVERYBODY has a nice grip!" -- Chief Brandon)

("Tell 'em we don't need any.")

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

"Hmph. It'll nivvar catch aaahn." -- Ma.

If we learn one lesson from history it's that no matter how many idols you build, you cannot cheat the whirlwind.

I have no idea what they're talking about.


Some brands just give away coupons.

"I came all the way from Boston to do this joke."

"Besides, I need to stop off and make a payment on this suit."


Inscrutable, isn't he?

"Can *I* leave?" "Oh, no, it doesn't apply to people."

If she has any sense, by now she's about six hundred miles out of town.

Matthew 6:19.