The Era -- Day By Day

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily Worker...

Go sit in your driveway, Mr. Flynn. Nobody likes you.

 

[Fading Fast]

"Tharr ain't noo oothars she's fargettin'



"Oi thaat'chee was goin' t'do soomthin' aboot thim' rock-headed soons'a yaars." "Oi was too busy,' scowls Uncle Frank in return, "doin' soomthin' aboot'ch YAAAR rock-headed soon."



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If Breathless was a jewel thief escaping in a laundry truck, it would be the most 1940s thing ever. But I guess the scheming daughter of a dead extortionist is right up there.

Tru dat. I often wonder why there are all but no jewel thieves anymore. There's still plenty of jewelry in the world. For a time, it was such a promising profession.

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

Don't rub it in.

How can they just ship all that through the mail - doesn't that stuff need refrigeration? Maybe not the bacon, but the butter and ham?

 

[Fading Fast]

And in the Daily Worker...

View attachment 713809
Go sit in your driveway, Mr. Flynn. Nobody likes you.

New York City is fully blue today (sorry, but it will never make sense to me that the Dems are blue and Reps red – and I know the explanation – but still), but other than that, this is the exact same battle that the left and far-left fight in NYC all the time today. Even some of the sentences – word for word – could be lifted from this article and used today. Recently, the far-left has been gaining ground.

 

[LizzieMaine]

I imagine if a ham is thoroughy smoked it will keep just fine at room temperature, but I can't imagine shipping a block of butter to a place where there are palm trees would end well. Maybe the mailman back home figured out immediately what it was, opened the package, and replaced the butter with a yellow brick.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And you may recall about a year ago, the right-wing faction of the left-wing ALP (take a bow, Sally) broke off to form the "Liberal Party." You can't follow NYC politics without a Daily News diagram.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Yeh," yehs Sally, "t'en sen'nin' 'im t' Kilmeh jus' like t'ey done wit' Joe. An' inna week 'a so, he's outa t' Awrmy. He t'ought 'ee was goin'a Japan, but I guess 'ey figyehed foehty-t'ree mont's was enough. Y'know, Solly jernt up t' day afteh Poil Hawrbeh, an' cept f't'at one furlegh 'e got he's been oveh t'eh most awla time 'e's been in." "I r'membeh when 'e was home," nods Alice. "Din'ee try t' get a date wit'tat Marie Belasco when she was woikin' in ya Ma's place?" "Solly's a good guy," shrugs Sally, "but 'ee ain' no judge a' characteh. He's one'a t'ese guys wants t'be evry'body's pal. Awrways clownin' aroun'. Him inna tank. Go figyeh. Y'know, 'e tol' Joe his unit was t'one lib'rated 'at camp Mickey was in." "Yeh," replies Alice, for want of anything else to say. "Speakin'a which," continues Sally, "I ain't seen'im around las' coupla days. I guess he must be livin' it up awn Kingston Aveneh." "Yeh," sighs Alice, not wanting to be the one to tell her...)

("Who'zee t'ink I am," sneers Hilda Chester. "Lolly Hopkins???")

(Everything is relative.)

("That's awful about Fitz," sighs Mr. Parrott. "He deserved better than he got. We could sure use a guy like that around, you know, for a pitching coach." "We have no funds in this spartan war economy," denies Mr. Rickey, "for such an extravagance." "We do need another coach, sir," insists Mr. Parrott, "with Sukey -- ah -- on the road and all." "Mr. Sukeforth's affairs are no concern of yours," frowns Mr. Rickey. "Whatever you know of those activities I suggest that you forget at once." "Yes sir," sighs Mr. Parrott. "But you've got to admit people loved Fitz here, he was as popular as -- um..." "As whom?"demands Mr. Rickey. "As -- um..." stammers Mr. Parrott, "as Camilli." "Good afternoon, Mr. Parrott," frowns Mr. Rickey, lighting a fresh cigar. "Good afternoon, sir," eyerolls Mr. Parrott. He steps to the door, and turns. "Uh, sir -- you've -- " "Out with it boy!" demands Mr. Rickey. "Say what you mean. Trouble me not with shilly-shally!" "No sir," nods Mr. Parrott. "I only wanted to say that you've -- uh -- set your wastebasket on fire again.." "Judas Priest!" yelps Mr. Rickey, as Mr. Parrott closes the door...)

("Izzis gonna be lawng?" frowns Danny Leary, as his father sits at his desk in the plumbing office, biting furiously on a cigar only to spit it out when he realizes it isn't a Tootsie Roll. "I wanna go see t'at Sonja Henie pitcheh. Ain't she sump'n." "Hmph," hmphs Jimmy Leary, glaring at his twin with the utmost fraternal scorn. "Shoot'chee gobs, th' bootha'ye," growls Uncle Frank. "Noobody leaves this room till Oi get t'th' baaaatom o' this business wi' Bink Scanlan." The twins blanch in perfect unison as Uncle Frank continues. "Thar's a pretty good chance woona' you ****** bahstoons poot woon in 'arr basket, an' I mean t' knoo which woona ye doon it!" "HIM!" shouts two voices blended into one, as the twins point accusingly at each other. "Is tharrr inny chance," scowls Uncle Frank thru gritted teeth, "that it was Mickey that doon it." "T'AT RAT!' snaps Jimmy. "T'AT LOUSE!" agrees Danny. "YEH! HE DONE IT1" they harmonize. "Oi can see," sighs Uncle Frank, slumping back in his creaky swivel chair, "that this is goo'in t'be a laaahng noit." "I really wanna see t'at Sonja Henie pitcheh," mutters Danny. "Aw, dry up," mutters Jimmy...)

(Did Evans Krehbiel finally see "Oklahoma?")

("Tell Mrs. Worth to go find a better story next time...)

("And while you look, I'll wait for my pie.")

(Meanwhile, Margie the secretary is upset nobody notices her new blouse. $2.50 at Loeser's Basement!)

("I know I shoudn't chase cars, but this one was full of black-market sausages.")

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

So it looks like we're all set here for at least the next three weeks...

Act One of our drama...

Well, it worked on somebody.

Sort of in, anyway.

I hadn't ****ed Kayo for a future philosophy major, but you can never tell...

"Oh, look, there's still half a case of rye inside!"

Should have made a break for it when you had the chance...

"Wish we still lived in the city, so we'd have a fire escape to sleep on..."

THEY'RE FULL OF COCAINE!

"And even worse, why does it smell like old feet in here?"

 

[LizzieMaine]

And also...

Germany's WWII-era leaderships in Argentina??? NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

 

[Fading Fast]

What is going on with the seated cashier's face?

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

"That's awful about Fitz," sighs Mr. Parrott. "He deserved better than he got. We could sure use a guy like that around, you know, for a pitching coach."

The goodwill alone would be worth it.

To be fair, that is one awful record Fitz had going this year.

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

"Is tharrr inny chance," scowls Uncle Frank thru gritted teeth, "that it was Mickey that doon it."

If it's Mickey's, that would be #2, assuming there isn't a little American/German kid or two running around Europe with half of Mickey's gene pool.

Just one of those funny FYI, Ayn Rand is the co-screenwriter on "You Came Along."

Finally, what the heck is "Outdoor Tabulating Work?"

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

So it looks like we're all set here for at least the next three weeks...

Ava Gardner looks at the picture and sees herself in the screenplay.

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

Act One of our drama...

It's going to be fun if the Langford story heats back up at the same time this one is going on. They'll be some late nights at the Daily News.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And to boot, with the delivery strike on as of tomorrow, the only way you'll be able to follow the unfolding drama is to go to the News building on 42nd Street and buy a copy over the counter. Unless, of course, the Eagle or the Worker, or any of the other smaller/outer borough/foreign language papers pick it up.

"Outer tabulating work" could be anything from counting cars in parking lots to counting bottle caps in trash cans (a real form of market research used by soda bottlers.) Or they could be -- ah -- working for one of Ma's competitors...

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Whassem?" queries Leonora, gazing intently at the rack of ribbons pinned above the pocket of Sgt. Solly Pincus's tunic as she waits with her parents and their recently repatriated friend in a diner booth near Camp Kilmer. "Well," explains Solly, thru a sip of coffee, ''at'one 'neh's whatcha cawl'a Brawnze Stawr. An'nen right next'wit 'teh, t'at one's ya Poiple Hawrt." "Pa's got one'a t'em," dismisses Leonora. "He t'rew it in a draweh." "You neveh tol' me..." gapes Solly, trailing off at the sight of Sally's tiny flicker of headshake. "It wasn' nut'n," dismisses Joe. "It wasn' nut'n." "Whassem ot'eh?" continues Leonora. "You ask a lawtta questions, kid," chuckles Solly. "Docteh Minkawff says t'at's how ya loin," retorts Leonora. "Nawt even foeh yeehs ol',' marvel Solly. "Awr you really my uncle?" demands Leonora. "I gotta lawtta uncles. Uncle Frank, Uncle Mickey, Uncle Jimmy, Uncle Danny, Uncle Krause, Uncle Doyle, Uncle Inky, Uncle t'at rat Shaughnessy..." Solly emits a hearty laugh as Sally shoots Joe a look. "Uncle Frank's me gran'pa," continues Leonora. "An' so's Misteh Ginsboig, c'ept he says it 'Zeyde.' An'nen'nez me Granma, an' me Bubbe, t'at's Misses Ginsboig. An' I gotta Cousin Willie, he useta eat nickels but Gramma made me stop makin' im. An' I gotta Aunt Lina, t'at's me pa's sisteh, c'ept she don' live in Brooklyn so she don't count. An' I gotta Aunt Alice, she gawt big muscles an' she knows howta drive -- um -- an' a Aunt Bink." Sally grits her teeth and squeezes her donut until it crumbles. "Aunt Bink woiks f'me gran'ma," elaborates Leonora, 'cept she don' really woik. An' she swipes gum." "Ah," ahs Solly. "Aunt Bink, huh? What's she like?" "She likes Uncle Jimmy," eyerolls Leonora. "An' Uncle Danny, an' Uncle Mickey too. I ASK ya!" Solly absorbs all this, intrigued, as Sally's face disappears behind her palm....)

(Psst -- best record in baseball. Pass it on!)

(Ouch.)


(Well, they are!)

(The Boy from Marketing)

(Well, at least he didn't drop any 38 special cartridges in the hall..)

("Ambrose?" Where's your colorful thug nickname, huh?)

(And nobody wants to sit next to Admiral Nimitz at the supper table...)

(Pfffffft.)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And we went all the way into the city to go to the News building to bring you...

You gotta admit this is the biggest thing ever to happen in New Caanan since -- well, it's the biggest thing ever to happen in New Caanan.

Bitter Homes and Gardens...

"Mangle my shorts and call me Rough Dry..." Well, if you insist...

On the other hand, how many jails are there where you can keep your dog in your cell? And Chili is much better at this than April ever was.

I would never imagined Uncle Bim to be so lithe...

Next time, try a Tums dissolved in your two-cents-plain.

Sidewalk agriculturalists.

"So I guess there's no medals?"

Henchmen live a hard life.

 

[Fading Fast]

Uncle t'at rat Shaughnessy



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

And nobody wants to sit next to Admiral Nimitz at the supper table...

"We need one more item to fill the space."
"You rejected everything else we had."
"Hmm, okay, put that stupid thing in about Truman's daughter and her sweaters, submit it, and I'm going home."

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

You gotta admit this is the biggest thing ever to happen in New Caanan since -- well, it's the biggest thing ever to happen in New Caanan.

"Not only could I play her, but for once I wouldn't have to spend an hour every morning having the MGM hairdressers tame my unruly hair - we could just let it rip." — Ava Gardner

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

On the other hand, how many jails are there where you can keep your dog in your cell?

"And as much as I want to support the kid and all, I'm not the one on trial here, so you'd think they'd have a nice place I could stay like back at the farm with all that good food. "

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Wheh'dya wammee t'putt'm?" grunts Jimmy, hefting two bundles of Eagles as he skeens open the screen door. "Inna rack t'eh," nods Joe. "Waita'minnit," he adds, brandishing Ma's well-worn but still ferocious-looking metal hook. With a quick flick of the hook he snaps the wires binding the papers, and gestures for Jimmy to drop them in the display. "T' ol' lady said t'tell ya t'sell f'r a nick'l apiece. I hadda pay t'ree cents a piece retail at t' counteh oveh t'eh. T'at's six bits a bundle. So gimme a buck seven'y five." "I ain' givin' you nut'n outa t'eh," frowns Joe, indicating the cash register, "less Ma tells me to." "Sokay," smirks Jimmy, helping himself to a doube handful of candy bars. "I'll take it out'n trade. Hey -- you seen Bink?" "Upstaiehs," Joe replies, with a flick of his eyes to the back stairs. "She's up t'eh wit' Uncle Frank, tawkin' bout sump'n." "Oh," exhales Jimmy, his face draining of color. "Um," he stammers, "if -- um -- anybody -- uh -- asks, I wasn' -- uh -- askin' about'eh." Joe gives him a quizzical look, and Jimmy tosses him a candy bar, followed immediately by a "shh" as he hustles out the door.....)

("I wisht I'da hoid it," shrugs Sally. "Aw, it was sump'n," chuckles Alice. "He was doin' awla verces an' evry'ting, y'know, tryin'a soun' tough like **** Tracy n'awlat. Once he gets done bein' Mayeh he oughta stick wit' t' radio stuff awlatime." "Yeh," Sally nods. "We wen' out t'Joisey t'see Solly Pincus. Medals awl ovehr'im, I was 'fraid 'e'd say sump'n 'n upset Joe, but hee'za same ol' Solly. Held up 'is fingehr'n had Leonoreh t'row donuts at it, y'know, like t'em games'ey got at Coney Islan'. Leonoreh looks at 'im an' says 'Don' be ludicrous.'" "Heh," snicikers Alice. "He ast about Marie Belasco," Sally continues, "an'nen' when'ee hoid about Bink Scanlan, he ast' about HER! Same ol' Solly, y'know." "Hmph," hmphs Alice. "T'at's what Leonoreh said too," relates Sally. "Smawrt kid," nods Alice. "Yeh," agrees Sally....)

(And don't forget the molasses, the pencil shavings and the packing excelsior.)

(The New World that's Coming would come a lot faster if Theodore G. Bilbo would drop dead.)

(We still love ya, Fitz. Remember 1940!)

(So I guess Jug Ruff killed Wilbur Wackey after all, and Clover Patch went off to see if she can get a new job in Mary Worth. The End. Meanwhile, it's nice to see Elmer Fudd branching out a bit. The wig and moustache, however, are a bit much.)


(Okay then. Next story.)

(YOU GONNA PAY FOR THAT TABLECLOTH?)

("Hmph, at least you got two arms." -- Pete Gray.)

(Catenfreude.)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in a very scarce copy of the Daily News...

"She would always be sorry afterwards." Well, OK then.

You can't say he isn't perceptive.

And you're sure to get your money's worth.

From now on, this is Bim's regular look. Eatcha heart out, Bernarr Macfadden.

"Tell what you know, not what you think." But what if they're the same thing?

"And I used to look so dingy grey-white..."

So many people in Tracy's city with thyroid disease. Somebody check the water.

Don't you know babies shouldn't sleep on their stomach??

Did You Know -- Moon used to be a boxer? Of the canvasback variety, to be sure...

 

[LizzieMaine]

And also...

Give Melvin a break, he's having a tough year.

"Hmph," hmphs Danny Leary. "Sold out?? Ma ain't gonna like t'is!"

The Worker, PM, the Hobo News, the Forvertz. Who says there's nothing to read?

 

[Fading Fast]

"Sokay," smirks Jimmy, helping himself to a doube handful of candy bars. "I'll take it out'n trade.

Absolutely can't stand this exact type of person.

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

We still love ya, Fitz. Remember 1940!

We do indeed.

Ma: "Maybe we should go bowling tonight."
Frank: [Chomping down a Tootsie Roll.] "Huh?"

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

YOU GONNA PAY FOR THAT TABLECLOTH?

He showed more smart than I gave him credit for.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Lookitawlese bums," frowns Sally, looking around at the crowd gathered outside the gates of the Kearny Works waiting for the bus to the railroad station. "Scalpin' t'ree cent papehs f'ra dime a pop. Whatta racket!" "Yeh," nods Alice, scanning the hawkers. "Um, jussa minute, huh?" She skitters off, as Sally stands with her arms folded, her frown deepening into a scowl. "Whew," whews Alice, with a huff and a puff for good measure. "Got t' las' one." She flourishes a wrinkled copy of the Eagle, as slim as a country weekly minus its department store advertising. "Ya dope," admonishes Sally. "Whad'joo pay f't'at. "Fi'teen cents," sighs Alice. "He mawrked it up cause it wassa las' one. But I gotta see how Mary Woit' come out, t'at Lyric annat guy wit' t' hawrse face." "Go ahead," shrugs Sally, as the bus pulls in. "T'row ya money away. Oh," she adds as they board. "Don't t'row it away when ya done, I'll -- uh -- do it fawr ya....")

("Ye taaalked to'arr thin?" interrogates Ma. "Oi did," nods Uncle Frank. "Oi doon't waaana knoo," Ma declares, "what'charr goin' to do. Ye knoo me views." "Oi do," acknowledges Uncle Frank. "Thin tharr's noothin' marr t'be said," affirms Ma. "Naaht by me," nods Uncle Frank. "Wharr is she now?" Ma queries. "Oi doon't know," shrugs Uncle Frank. Ma shoots Uncle Frank a look but receives no further explanation. The only sound in the store is the buzz of the ice cream freezer and the slow creak of the ceiling fan....)

("Getta loada Docteh Levine." -- Sally.)

(All right then, I guess...)

("He can't hit, he can't run, he can't throw. All he can do is beat you." -- Leo.)

(So the deal with "Ella Cinders" is that she's basically a grownup version of Little Orphan Annie, except that she has an actual evil stepmother and two evil stepsisters. She travels around having adventures with her brother Blackie and her boyfriend Patches, and has evidently, as we join the story, fallen in with - uh -- I dunno. Groucho crossed with Yosemite Sam? I guess we'll find out.)

(Fifteen cents for this? Sorry Alice, Sally's right this time.)

(HERO CABBIE SAVES THE DAY!)

("But the hair -- no, too much peroxide in one family can be dangerous.")

(Nobody likes a know-it-all.)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

"Hah!" hahs Sally. "On'y sixteen hunnet Joinal-Americans? Pooeh Kilgallen!"

"Let's drop the whole thing." Easy for you to say, Smiley.

"Isn't it possible that she wasn't holding a blackjack at all? Isn't it possible that it was, in fact, a fresh crisp eggplant? And isn't it possible that the dear soul was merely trying to encourage you to eat your vegetables?"

Shoulda paid attention in geography class.

MEET CUTE

"On the other hand, if it means I never have to hear 'One Meat Ball' again..."

"Who said that? Is there a large flightless fowl in here?"

Of course you realize this means war.

You can't tune a piano with a pickle fork.

Happens to me all the time, and I don't even rassle.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And also...

Henry was the first major baseball figure to go into the service, so it's only fitting he's the first to get out. Welcome back, Hankus Pankus!