The Era -- Day By Day

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Worker...

It will not be a dull winter.

 

[Fading Fast]

Jesus.

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

"Oh, hey -- befoeh'ya go..." "Yeh?" "One'ya eehs pawpped out."

"Something's gonna be popping out of you too, soon enough — and it won't be no ear. "

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

Yawrs Truly, Mrs. Alice D. Krause.' Izzat a good letteh, Siddy? Did I do awright?" "Yeh," nods Krause..

She's still the best.

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

Actually, that sounds like a real bargain.

Talk to the owner of the property, a deal could be worked out.

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

Her friends call her "Zsa Zsa..."

They are so ahead of their time. They are inventing being famous for being famous.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Huh," huhs Sally, straining to get a look as the motorcade negotiates the intersection of Atlantc and Flatbush Avenues. "T'at's it? Jus' a wave?" "Lemme see!" demands Leonora. "Ya gett'n too heavy f''tis," grumbles her mother, hoisting her for a view." "Ehh," ehhs Leonora. "He's biggeh inna newsreel." "C'n we go t' t' Awtehmat?" wheedles Willie. "Yeh," nods Krause, looking at his watch. "Leas' it ain' rainin'," sighs Alice, as the motorcade passes. "Y'know, Roosevelt really shoulda put t' tawp up...")

("T'is ain' no good," frowns Joe, staring at his grill. "How many we had in'eeh?" "Two," sighs Bink, glancing at the chewing gum display and gnawing at her lower lip as she considers possible courses of action. "Two," repeats Joe. "'Saw'l my own fault. I shoulda ast Doyle t' cawp a' somebody what t' route was gonna be, 'steada t'inkin' 'Flatbush Aveneh' meant, y'know, Eas' Flatbush. I got awlis meat, an'nit's gonna sperl foeh we c'n do anyt'ing wit' it. Why'm I such'n IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT!" He slams the spatula down on the edge of the grill, and ducks as the blade breaks off the handle and careens behind his shoulder, clanging off the wall behind. "You ain' no idiot," offers Bink. "I know a whole lotta idiots. You ain' like t'em. B'sides, t'em two t'at come in bot' putta slip inna contes' bawx. So t'at's sump'n, ain' it?" "Yeh, I spose," sighs Joe. He fishes in his pocket for a nickel, rings it up, drops it in the till, and tosses Bink a pack of gum. "Y'awright, kid," he offers with a rueful smile. "An' hey, say hi t't' idiots fawr me..")

(Careful, Mr. Lichty, you don't want any trouble with the Rankin Committee...)

(Clip and Save!)

(Somebody at the Eagle sports desk should have caught a glaring error in Billy Williams's story -- Ned Hanlon was not managing in Baltimore in 1903, he was managing in Brooklyn, and he was interested in signing Williams for the Superbas, ancestors of the present Dodgers. The idea was to pass him off as an Indian. The following year, John McGraw made Williams a similar offer to play for the Giants and again he declined, declaring he "would not masquerade as an Indian for all the money in the world.")

(He doesn't look very happy about it either.)

("Oh yes, family is so important dear, that's why I ran out on mine.")

(Nobody kicks Jane Arden AND LIVES!)

(SEE? SEE? I TOLD YOU YOU'D END UP UNDERWATER AGAIN!)

(AMERICA'S NUMBER ONE HERO DOG knows when to fold 'em.)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Kids Today.

It's not nice to read other people's mail.


"Oh, just something I picked up in a Macedonian cave..."

"And I don't think that Doctor I. Q. has any kind of a degree at all!"

My grandmother never had a single gray hair on her head. I often wondered about that.

Nobody sleeps thru the night...

"Are we supposed to tip them? Did you bring any cash?"

Comic-strip millionaires don't believe in banks.

That's what you get for buying an Oldsmobile.

New York's Map Newspaper.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Worker...

Corum's always been a square shooter, even if he does work for Hearst.

 

[Fading Fast]

I interviewed at Sterns, Bambergers, and A&S when I went to college in the 1980s because, while low pay, department stores offered a lot of flexible hours. I went with Sterns, but they were all the same - some employees switched from store to store. Re the ad: they still had a fairly priced cafeteria that this college student took advantage of and the employee discount was great, but the pay was low and the work tedious - and there was no family feel, other than the friends you made like you do anywhere you work.

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

Kids Today.

Jesus, it's a tough page today. BTW, Imogene probably got away with murder. Lena's either very troubled or simply chilling.

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

My grandmother never had a single gray hair on her head. I often wondered about that.

How old did she live to be?

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

"Are we supposed to tip them? Did you bring any cash?"

Which is also usually followed by, "How much are we supposed to tip them?" "I don't know."

That kidding aside, bringing out their furniture is an odd development.

 

[LizzieMaine]

My grandmother made it to 69, almost 70, and when we cleaned out her house after her passing, I found no evidence whatsoever of hair dye. I unfortunately did not inherit whatever genetic advantage she possessed -- I got my first gray hair at 16, and Garnier No. 50 and I have been friends ever since.

The fact that Lena carries a hatchet is a bit unusual. Where do you get a pocketbook big enough?

 

[LizzieMaine]

("I dunno," sighs Joe, gazing out into 63rd Street, as Leonora and Willie toss a scrap of wood for Butch the Dog. "Maybe I shoulda jus' gone back t' woik at Sperry's when I hadda chance." "You neveh liked woikin'eh," reminds Sally. "Y'd come home dead tiehed fr'm t'at shift t'ey had ya awn." "T' pickle woiks 'en," counters Joe. "I bet if I wen'oveh t'eh t'marra t'ey'd take me back." "Y'gawt so y'couldn' stan'na stink'a brine," reminds Sally. "Maybe Solly'd gimme a jawb," shrugs Joe. Sally leans back against the stoop and gives her husband a careful look. "You know," she exhales, "you couldn' handle'at. Be hawnes' witchaself." "It's jus' -- " Joe stammers, "I t'ought t'is was a sueh bet. T'em sanwiches I make awr GOOD. Ev'rybody'at eats one says so. So why ain' I gett'n any business?" "Solly's right about one t'ing," notes Sally. "Y'gotta get t' woid out. R'membeh how ya uset'a see guys wawkin' aroun' wit' one'a t'em signs awn? R'membeh? T' Maneh Cafeterieh uset'a do t'at -- 'Follow me t' t' Maneh f' t' Famous Chicken Pie." "He useta dress up like a chicken," frowns Joe. "I ain' gonna dress up like no cow." "Look, I ain' sayin'at," insists Sally. "What if ya hieh some kid? Look , t'ez Sammy Schreibstein c'rosta street -- somebody like t'at. HEY SAMMY! C'MEEEH!" "Whassup, Missis P?" pants Sammy, having crossed at a fast trot. "Howja like," proposes Sally, "t' oin a buck?" "I dunno," replies Sammy with practiced disinterest. "Whatt'w I gotta do?" "T'is aftehnoon," continues Sally, "go oveh t' Eas' Flatbush, an' spen' a coupla houehs wawkin' up'n down Rogehs Aveneh wit' a sign. 'Folleh me t' Lieb's Luncheonette f' Joe's Famous Beef Sanwich!" "I dunno," ponders Sammy. "T'at's twenny minutes jus' t'get oveh t'eh. An'nen, well, ain' it kinda competition 'gainst my folks' place?" "Nah, nah," argues Sally. "Nobody fr'm Eas' Flatbush is comin' oveh heeh, an' nobody fr'm Bensonhoist is goin' oveh t'eh. We ain' in ya whatchacawl sphere'a influence." "I dunno..." considers Sammy. "Two bucks," submits Sally. "Deal," declares Sammy, extending his hand. "A buck now," offers Sally, "an'na ot'eh one afteh ya finish." "Awright," nods Sammy, "but you make t' sign." "Deal!" agrees Sally, completing the handshake. "T'eh, Joe, y'see? T'at's whatcha cawl modehn mawrketin'. C'mon'arounna back, Sammy, I got some ol' picket signs we c'n paint oveh..." Joe watches them go, slowly shaking his head in amazement....)

("Movies don' hoit nobody," snorts Bink Scanlan. "I go t'movies awla time, an' nut'n eveh happ'nta me." "Weh DID it happ'n?" queries Solly Pincus. Bink whips her head around and glares. "T'at ain' funny," she growls. "I was jus' jokin',' mutters Solly, clearly abashed. "Like, y'know, we awrways..." "Some t'ings," frowns Bink, "I dowanna joke about." "Sawry," replies Solly, meaning it....)

(A horse named "Buzfuz?" What would Dickens say?)

(So now you know *********** a rattlesnake. Comics can be educational!)

(Elmer is wearing a mask of -- himself? Boldly meta, Mr. Fudd.)

(Next time I rake leaves, I'm going to dress up like this to do it, just to see what the neighbors say.)

("Blade?" And he never had a role in "Mary Worth?")

(Falling on your face in the dark will certainly wake you up...)

(William the Conqueror was British???)

("I'm a chorus girl. I have no character.")

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

"I hate every minute of this." -- Bess.

"Yeh," nods Solly, "t'ese awr great coats. Um, t'is one 'eeh --it's, um, slightly irreguleh. Looks like it's 'bout yoeh size, an' it'll be a lawt wawrmeh f't' winteh t'en'nat ol' jacket you gawt. Heeh, try it awn." "Fits okay inna shouldehs," replies Bink, wriggling into the pea coat. "But it -- um -- don't button -- down'eeh." "We'll go a size up," sighs Solly, poking thru the opened crate. "Awlese coats is -- um -- slightly irreguleh...."

Get used to it, folks.

This is called "packing a week's worth of action into a single page..."

"Me remember 1935? Whattaya think I am, twenty-three years old?" And y'know, Cindy, I think Caniff just might be hiring.

"A lot of poor little fleas making a man a living." And thus does Kayo learn a valuable lesson. Unfortunately, Andy Gump will never learn any lessons.

Well, jeez, Terry, you don't have to look so happy about it.

Lollypop auditions for a role in the next storyline at "Bo."

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Worker...

Not everyone is cut out to be Mary Worth.

Better be careful, Eddie, or you'll be getting a visit from the FBI.

 

[Fading Fast]

"T'eh, Joe, y'see? T'at's whatcha cawl modehn mawrketin'. C'mon'arounna back, Sammy, I got some ol' picket signs we c'n paint oveh..." Joe watches them go, slowly shaking his head in amazement....

Plus how long until the new Coke signage come in? And we have the name-the-sandwich contest still going. What about an ad in the Eagle - too expensive?

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

"Weh DID it happ'n?"

I laughed.

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

"Fits okay inna shouldehs," replies Bink, wriggling into the pea coat. "But it -- um -- don't button -- down'eeh."

Ad: "Practical Slash Pockets..."

Bink thought bubble: "Boy weren't they, in my old line of work that is."

 

[LizzieMaine]

("I remembeh t'at place," frowns Alice. "T' Gerry S'ciety, t'ey useta cawl it. Afteh'r I run away f'rm t' sistehs I gawt picked up by t'cawps, an'ney t'rew me innat jernt. It was woise'n'a sistehs, t'ey acted like t'eh was sump'n wrawng wit' me f' jus' existin'. Y'don' have no fam'ly innem days, y'wasn' woit' nut'n. It was wois'n bein' in jail." Sally looks over at her friend. "I mean," stumbles Alice, "I figyeh it musta been." "S'funny," nods Sally. "When I was lit'l, an' Ma 'd be in one'v'eh moods, an' Mickey'd be actin' rott'n, I'd wish I was 'n awrph'n." "Ya lucky," sighs Alice, "ya wasn'." "I guess so," nods Sally, as the train rolls on toward home....)

("I dunno," sighs Joe. "Maybe I otta sell shoes. Must be easieh'n tryin'a sell hamboigehs." "Noona that, Joseph," admonishes Ma. "Ye had soom business yistarrday, aftarr ye had that boy maaarchin' aroond with th' soin." "Yeh," concedes Joe. "He's gonna come ovhe'ragain today afteh school, but he can't do it ev'ry day, his folks gawt a stoeh oveh'rin Bensonhoist, an'ee's gotta woik inneh." "I could do it," offers Bink. "Saaaaartainly naaaht," dismisses Ma. "A wooman in yarr candition, paradin' oop an' doon th' street, tharr would be taaalk." "Who caehs?" snorts Bink. "Th' things people will say," darkens Ma, "aboot a yoong oonmarried wooman -- in yarr ****dition -- " "How'da YOU know?" snorts Bink. "Nivvar yee moind," snaps Ma. "Here, Joseph -- p'raps James aar Daniel moit do it." "Hah," hahs Bink. "T'ey wouldn' know which enda t' sign t' hold up. Look, I might know some kids aroun'eeh. My frien' Rosa woiks downa Bohack's gawt six brot'ehs an' sistehs." "T'at's a lawtta signs," eyerolls Joe. "What did Saaargeant Pincus caaahl it?" observes Ma. "Satchehration mawrketin'," concludes Joe...)

(How many points do you get for yardbirding?)

(There's a New World Coming...)

(Congratulations, Mr. Burr, you've gotten away with printing the oldest baseball joke known to a suffering humanity.)

(How did Magistrate Solomon manage to not get this case?)

("Tell me, did you ever play the Club Buccaneer?")

(Tsk, a glasses disguise only works for Superman and Harold Lloyd.)

("Can I at least have my suit coat back? It's cold in here! Look, I'm breaking out in rivets!")

(TRAITOR! QUISLING! JUDAS ISCARIMUTT!)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

These are dangerous times to be a woman.

"Mayor O'Dwyer." "Mayor William O'Dwyer." "Mayor Brigadier General Wm. O'Dwyer." "Mayor Bill O'Dwyer." "Mayor Bill-O."

This is what happens when you don't plan ahead.

"Of course, you wouldn't have to hear it if I had a phone in my room..."

"Anything to stay out of the furniture business..."

Hey, at least you've got a job.

Grandma was in a road company of "Floradora?"

I dunno, looks like rigor mortis to me. "Nah, he always looks like that."

Who needs atom bombs when you've got the rug?

Moline? Wow, the big time.

 

[Fading Fast]

"What did Saaargeant Pincus caaahl it?" observes Ma. "Satchehration mawrketin'," concludes Joe.

I assume the Eagle would be too expensive for Joe to advertise in, but does East Flatbush have a weekly circular as some smaller neighborhoods did when I was growing up. Often the circular was free, but you had to pay to advertise in it — still, it cost much less than a major paper like the Eagle. Just a thought for our boy Joe.

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

I'm breaking out in rivets!

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

This is what happens when you don't plan ahead.

It's "Ocean's Eleven –" all that effort and the money goes up in flames.

It's also very film noir.

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

Who needs atom bombs when you've got the rug?

"If your job is to make us happy and content here, can I get my aromatherapy sessions started up again?"

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Yeh," yehs Rosa, behind the meat counter at the Rogers Avenue Bohack's. "Yeh, I t'ink I c'n get one'a t'kids t'do it. But what'sa catch?" "Ain'no catch," denies Bink. "Aw, be yaself," snickers Rosa. "T'ez gotta be some angle." "No, hawnes'," insists Bink. "Joe needs help, an'..." "Hee'zat one looks like Jawn Gawrfiel', right?" inserts Rosa. "Yeh," nods Bink. "Married t't'at crazy woman," continues Rosa. "She ain'nat bad," declares Bink. "I hoid she t'rew a cawp infronn'va subway train," retorts Rosa. "Smashed 'im up like a casawba melon." "Look, neveh mine'at," urges Bink. "Jus' have somebody upta stoeh t'marra aftehnoon. We'll tell'm what t'do." "I still don' get it," marvels Rosa. "Whatta you caeh 'bout t'ese people?" "I jus' do," snaps Bink. "Ain'nat enough?" "Ya gawn sen'imennal," scoffs Rosa. "Neveh t'ought I'd see t'day...")

("I'm tellin' ya," declares Solly, "it's gonna woik. Ev'rybody reads'em ads." "Classifieds?" wonders Joe. "You t'ink so?" "Nawt jus' classifieds," clarifies Solly. "Poissonals. You know t'kind -- 'Come Home Seymoeh, awl is f'given.' T'at kin'a junk. People read'm, 'ney get curious. 'Whozis guy Seymoeh? Whas'ee done? Who's lookin' f'rim?' Well, you put in a few a't'em kin'a ads. 'Joe's waitin'. 503 Rogehs Aveneh.' T'at's awl ya gotta say. Run'nat ad f'ra week inna Eagle an' inna Citizen..." "Sal says I oughta put one inna Daily Woikeh," adds Joe. "T'ey run'nem kina ads??" exclaims Solly. "'Comrade seeks Comrade, objec' cooperative pr'duction.' Heh. Yeh, whatt'hell. Maybe even'a Hobo News. Y'know? Get people tawkin'. An' I guarantee ya gonna get rubbaneckas comin' aroun', you know, curious 'bout it awl. 'Whosis guy Joe? Who'see waitin' fawr.' An'nen you giv'm a big smile an' giv'm ya pitch. Sell'm a san'wich. An'ney'll go tell people bout t'is screwy jernt in Pigtown wit' great beef san'wiches, an' pretty soon y'll have moeh' business'n y'c'n handle." "Huh," huhs Joe. "T'at soun's good. I'll do it." "Attaboy," chuckles Solly, pausing to light a Camel. "In fack, who knows -- maybe Seymoeh'll show up!")

("Barry Fitzgerald," scoffs Uncle Frank. "He's aboot as Oirish as Solly Pincus." "Oi read in woona thim moovin' pitcharr magazines," counters Ma, "that he was barrn in Dooblin." "With that phoony accent?" snickers Uncle Frank. "It is," agrees Ma, "a bit mooch...")

(This soft-sell approach will never work.)

(I remember that game, and I seriously doubt that Mr. Owen and Mr. Cooper were quite so cordial...)

(Since when do they let you bring a transit into a burlesque show?)

(That's it, we're done? Great. pay 'em off and get rid of 'em.)

(Well, wait, what's the going rate for scrap iron?)

(AMERICAS NUMBER ONE HERO DOG does not know how to make a convincing case.)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Owning a car in Manhattan is like eating soup with a fork.

In the late thirties, Jimmy Powers strongly endorsed the idea of baseball integration. And yet in the week since the Robinson signing was announced, he is conspicuous among the city's sports columnists -- especially on a paper with a strong Dodger orientation -- for having said absolutely nothing about it. What's up, Jim? Nat Low cut in front of you at the Automat?

Oh, you can't possibly think it'll be that easy.

"Blatherskite?" Funny, she doesn't look Scottish.

"So glad you're here, dear. There's wood needs chopping out back."

Moths get the long woolen stockings?

Forty years? Hasn't aged well, has he?

On the other hand, you have a bright future ahead as a colonial oppressor!

"Not me, I like to be an active partcipant in neighborhood life."

Oh well, maybe you can pick up a few candy bars on the way home...

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily Worker...

C'mon, go ask Powers what he thinks.

 

[Fading Fast]

"Married t't'at crazy woman,"



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

I think this is the first new car ad we've seen since the war ended - no?

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

Owning a car in Manhattan is like eating soup with a fork.

I sold my car, moved into NYC in the late '80s, and haven't owned one since.

Separately, did you catch this from a no-nonsense judge:

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

"Blatherskite?" Funny, she doesn't look Scottish.

Gray has got something up his sleeve with this entire storyline.

 

[LizzieMaine]

Yep, that's the first of the '46 models I've spotted. '42 models with a minor facelift. Good luck trying to find a parking place.

This guy Bromberger ought to be hearing the case in "Ella Cinders."

 

[Fading Fast]

Yep, that's the first of the '46 models I've spotted. '42 models with a minor facelift. Good luck trying to find a parking place.

This guy Bromberger ought to be hearing the case in "Ella Cinders."

I doubt he'd have let Imogene Stevens off either.