The Era -- Day By Day

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

I hear all marriage licenses now come with a tear-off coupon good for 10 percent off your trip to Reno.

I hope he got a good orchestra and maybe a mixed vocal quartet. I wonder if "Three Chicks And a Chuck" are available?

I wouldn'tve thought Shaky would pack so neatly.

Of all the people you don't want to get marooned on an island with...

Look, get a place to live first.

Get what you can now, because pretty soon these things will be hanging in pawn shop windows from coast to coast.

Whatever became of "John's Other Wife?"

And back home, Mama DeStross feels a suddent cold draft...

Come now, Chief, you're not that dense...

If my parents had stayed married...

 

[Fading Fast]

"...wiping her hands on a towel that once belonged to the New Utrecht YMCA and somehow found its way into her laundry."

"...somehow found its way into..." Uh-huh, towels are funny that way: They often wander off on their own.

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Well, Doc, I see Mr. Tracy isn't the only **** we're reading today.

He is obnoxious.

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"*I* never ate candy off the dirty sidewalk." -- Irwin Higgs.

One can be too fussy about these things, but eating gumdrops – a candy with a surface that would pick up grit – off the sidewalk is disgusting.

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I hear all marriage licenses now come with a tear-off coupon good for 10 percent off your trip to Reno.

Celia Alice Bergeron truly does have an interesting story in answer to the perennial "how did you meet your husband" question.

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Come now, Chief, you're not that dense...

"Big Moose," wow, tell us how you really feel.

 

[2 Days Dubai]

Murph made the trifecta. Assuming the trio are still in China this should be an easy hookup
with Chiang or Mao factions. As likely southern region, Terry's inside straight looks a Chaing card next deal.

 

[Farace]

Celia Alice Bergeron truly does have an interesting story in answer to the perennial "how did you meet your husband" question.

My partner was once involved with the Airport Association in Westerly, Rhode Island and this story was one that popped up from time to time amongst the pilots.

 

[Madhouse27]

Hi Lizzie, any chance of retrieving today’s Mary Worth or was it missing from the paper itself. Thanks!

 

[LizzieMaine]

You can speak plainer than that, Tony, and you probably will.

 

[Fading Fast]

View attachment 706048
You can speak plainer than that, Tony, and you probably will.

My initial thought was I was going to hate this kid, but he nailed his dad hard and fairly in this exchange.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Steaks," sighs Uncle Frank. "Oi remembarr'em, but joost baaaaarely." "What's Shaughnessy doin' faaaar a livin'," scoffs Ma, "noo that he can foind noo marr meat fell oof th' back'oova troock?" "He'll foind soomthin'," promises Uncle Frank. "He toold me t'day 'ee had a handle aaahn soomthin'." "They bettar laaack oop th' haaarses in Prospect Paaark," scowls Ma. "Maybe whin Michael gets hoom, HE c'n get oos soom meat." "Oi think," sighs Uncle Frank, "Mickey'll have plenty t'do b'sides groocery shaaappin'." "What's THAT s'poosta mean," frowns Ma. "Oi wish oi had woona thim apples," declares Uncle Frank....)

("Well THAT's a foine d'velopm'nt," sputters Shaugnessy the butcher, gazing forlornly at twenty cases of rye stacked in his otherwise empty meat locker...)

(Easier said...)

(Just in case, Larvex makes a good Old Fashioned.)

(I mean, come on. MEL OTT. Make it a little easier, huh? And as for the limerick, how about "Forever the A's are a smeller." Oh, and I wonder if Leo ever actually did what Arky suggested he do with that uniform?)

(I can't get over the careful way Mr. Krehbiel draws Mr. Wolfe's lower half.)

(Restrain yourself, Mary.)

(Well, Tubs, the beard works, but an Amish gentleman would not be seen dead in that sport coat.)

(She says that to impress them, but she really just went down and cleaned off the ******in board at the post office.)

(America's postwar challenge: recidivism!)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

"Willya lookit't'at!" frowns Sally. "Right out'n public f'rawla woil' t'see!" "Heh," snickers Alice. "Looks like one'a t'em muriels ya see onna ceilin' inna t'eayteh." "T'at guy," observes Sally, "is gonna have'n awrful soeh back inna mawrnin'." "It's a pretty good ideeh f'r'n ad inna subway," notes Alice. "I mean, wheh ya gonna drawr a moustache?"

"Of couaaase, Irish need not apply."

"Besides, I'd rather not have a job where you do a lot of -- um -- sitting..."

PARENTS TODAY

"I wouldn't know. When do we eat?" -- Sandy.

"An obvious and transparent fraud," sniffs Inky Quinlan. "A shabby forgery. What currency features a large emblazoned dollar sign?"

I never noticed Bim's delicate eyelashes before. The mark of a sensitive soul.

Oh yes, there was a crew on the boat.

Look, he's packing the weight back on already.

Everybody's going to Paris this summer.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily Worker...

I mean, in Valley Stream...

 

[Fading Fast]

Easier said...

Definitely a very mixed result in the end.

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

First the pinball machines, then the bingo parlors, and now the ballet dancers.

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

Oh yes, there was a crew on the boat.

They are the red-shirt crew members on the original "Star Trek" TV series – we don't have to feel bad about them.


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

The Daily Worker would remember that.

 

[2 Days Dubai]

Murph the surf makes a half-assed pass at April and is immediately shot down.
But a good soldier ''adjusts and adapts, makes the terrain work to his advantage.''
And ''sometimes you're the hound, and sometimes you're the hare. And sometimes
you think you're the hound but you're really the hare.''

Maybe their near Hong Kong and Macau. Cannot recall when the Japanese garrison fell.
But if this is 1945, definitely lay down a compass azimuth and shoot for Macau. More pretty girls there than Vegas. Incidentally, last in Vegas stayed at the Venetian, and there were more Asian girls on the main casino floor than I had ever seen congregated outside the Orient.
A little demographic analysis variable factored in with stud poker percentages.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Whotd'ye MEAN ye ain't gaaaht noot'n but cole slaw?" sputters Uncle Frank, glaring across the counter at Dewes' Delicatessen. He glances out the window across Midwood Street and shudders. "If OI goo back ovarr tharr an' tell Nora Oi couldn't get noothin' farr dinnar t'noit she'll have me head onna plate! With an APPLE in me mooth!" "T'ey gawt apples up t'street at Rawgehs Mawrket," shrugs Mr. Dewes. "T'ree a' fouer'v'm last I hoid." "Remembaaaaaar that toime," frowns Uncle Frank, "ye needed a few baaaattles a' good whiskey farr that paaarty ye was catarrin'. An' nooobody in toon could help ye --- boot OI helped ye. Ye remembarr that?" "I wouldn't cawlat GOOD whiskey," eyerolls Dewes. "But waitaminnit, lemme check sump'n." He leans toward his back room. "OIVIN'!" he calls out. "We gawt any'a t'at tongue left?" "I got hafffa tongue," calls back Irving, "but I was savin' it f'me mot'eh'r'in'lawr's boit'day." "Wrap it up an' bring it 'eeh," commands Dewes. "Haffa tongue," scowls Uncle Frank. "What'm I gonna say t' Nora?" "Haffa tongue," shrugs Dewes, pushing his straw hat back on his forehead, 'is betteh'r'n none." Uncle Frank accepts the parcel and pauses. "An' gimme," he sighs, "haffa ****da cole slaw...")

("What's a geek?" queries Alice. "I neveh hoid of a geek." "Sueh ya have," counters Sally. "You been t' Coney Islan'. You know t'em guys wit' crazy eyes t'at eat light bulbs an' razeh blades an' bugs an' spidehs an' bite t'heads awff chickens 'n snakes 'nawlat stuff." "Oh," ohs Alice. She rides on in silence for a time. "I wen' out wit' one'a t'em guys oncet," she resumes. "Leas' I t'ink I did. Lawng time ago. Didn' know what I was gettn' inteh. We went't' t'is dive out by Sheepshead Bay. He awrdehs a glass a' wawteh an' stawrts lookin' aroun' awna flooeh f'cockroaches. T'waiteh sees 'im crawlin' aroun an' says 'will t' lady have t'same? So I busted 'im inna moosh. What else could I do?" "Fun date," snickers Sally. "I'm glad," declares Alice, "t'at Siddy ain't a geek.")

("How are you at tunneling into banks?")

("Lawta people go t't'em bowlin' toinaments," observes Bink Scanlan. "They do," acknowledges Ma. "You bowl," adds Bink. "I do," nods Ma. "From toime to toime. Althoo naaaht soo often since that foine Mistarr Fitzsimmons started warrkin' in Philadelphia." "Y'otta enteh t'at toinament," suggests Bink. "I c'n go witcha, be ya manageh awr ya traineh awr sump'n." "And as laaaang as yaaaar thaar," eyerolls Ma, "ye could warrk the crowd." "Well," shrugs Bink, "I gotta do sump'n. Nobody's gonna wanna see 'T' Hawrn Blows at Midnight...'")

("It was my understanding," rumbles Mr. Rickey, "that this contest promotion was to be conducted with the utmost dignity and in the best of taste." "Well," flushes Mr. Parrott, "I guess you could say..." "I do not consider Mr. Olsen and Mr. Johnson cutting foolish didoes on the front page of the sporting section," frowns Mr. Rickey," to be consistent with good taste." "Mr. Olsen," offers Mr. Parrott, a bead of sweat running down his forehead, "is in fact an excellent chef." "Indeed?" queries Mr. Rickey, giving the photo another glance. "Do you think," he ventures, "that he could get me some -- ah -- bacon?")

(I dunno about the weight but you could certainly help them with their posture.)

("Oh, I have a full dossier." "What?" "I have one on your father as well. And one on you." "I knew I should have taken that job with Scarlet O'Neil.")

(Don't you hate when you're just trying to go about your day, doing your job, and some bozo in a loud jacket and phony whiskers shows up wanting to trade places with you.)

("Eh, that's nothing. My last boss disappeared too. And so did his partner's wife!")

("Hmph, last time I had a better cell.")

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Sometimes even the News gets sick of it.

I mean, wouldn't anybody?

"Oh, go stand on your head."

Hey April, remember when you were fleeing across northern China with Pat, and everybody thought you were married? Guess that won't happen this time, huh?

"A TRAILER?? We're going to live in a TRAILER??"

Note that Dogface Williams' Place seems to have a pretty rigorous dress code.

"Passable," sniffs Inky Quinlan. "But I see flaws in your intaglio work."

Who needs Ellery Queen when Sergeant Velie has it all well under control?

Have a nice day, Bim.

Oh, come on. Dump it on the bed and roll in it. You know you want to.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And also...

Nobody likes you, Mr. Flynn.

 

[Trenchfriend]

They would not say "****" in todays world, I guess.

 

[Fading Fast]

"And as laaaang as yaaaar thaar," eyerolls Ma, "ye could warrk the crowd."

Bink is going to land in stir eventually. In truth, she belongs there – she' no desperate woman trying to feed her baby.

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

I dunno about the weight but you could certainly help them with their posture.

For a country with a limited food supply – Frank and Ma can't find food to buy for supper – it's funny that we have two comicstrips right now focused on weight-loss stories.

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

"Eh, that's nothing. My last boss disappeared too. And so did his partner's wife!"

Well, as long as she got the word of honor of what are, effectively, three complete strangers to her all should be good.

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

I mean, wouldn't anybody?

I did not recognize Flynn at first without his mustache. And the writer of that story didn't really understand the issue and just waved his hands and said "some tax and alimony stuff" and moved on.

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

"A TRAILER?? We're going to live in a TRAILER??"

The screenwriter for the 1948 movie "Apartment for ****y" just tucked an idea away.

 

[2 Days Dubai]

Errol Flynn's tax indemnification as regards divorce alimony payments '43-'44 pose
interesting legal censure allowance. I presume his attorney had his salary and assets safely tucked inside corporate declaration; allowing commensurate deductibility for the entire alimony and subsequent federal tax accrual.
All I know of Flynn is from what is gleaned David Niven's excellent reads The Moon's A Balloon;
and Bring On The Empty Horses, which paint portrait of a careless rake heavily vested Jamaican realty and gambling. All of which seemingly led to pauperism. I understand he sold his last tangible asset, his yacht schooner Sirocco to a Canadian; afterwhich he suffered a fatal heart attack at just fifty years old.
Niven's bios capture first generation Hollywood at its grandeur and are definitely must reading.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Ev'rybody's actin' funny," sighs Sally, "an' I don' like it." "An ordinary week, then," nods Dr. Levine. "Wouldn't you say?" "Since when," frowns Sally, "is a psychiatris' s'posta make cracks? I betcha Freud neveh made no cracks." "Sometimes a joke," shrugs Dr. Levine, "is just a joke." "Anyways," resumes Sally, "it's like I said. Mickey's s'posta be gett'n in t'is week, an' y'd t'ink ev'rybody'd rat'eh he jus' keep goin'. I mean, him an' me din' awrways get alawng, an' since I married Joe an' got outta t'stoeh t'eh, I hawrdly eveh seen'im. Ma was arways sayin' he was 'away awn business,' an'nen Joe'd make a crack about 'yeh, on Raymon' Street,' lik'ee was some kin'a hood. An'nen awlis stuff wit' Willie, y'know, Mickey's kid -- I mean, I remembeh what'ee was like when'ee fois' showed up wit't'at Marie Belasco, 'e'd steal food off't'table an' run awff'n hide an' eat it like a dawg a'sump'n, but he ain' like'at now, he's like a reg'leh kid. An' I know Alice an' Krause is attached t'wim, but, I mean, 'e's Mickey's son, an'...well, I dunno what's gonna happen. Mickey jus' spent two yeehs in a P-O-W camp, how'see gonna raise a kid?" "What does your mother think?" queries Dr. Levine. "T'at's what's funny," exclaims Sally. "When we was growin' up, y'know, Mickey could do no wrawng. Ma was arways comin' down awn me about nut'n. I mean, writin' about Sacco an' Vanzetti onna choich wawl, at's ya freedom 'a speech right t'eh, ain' it? But she like t'broke my back oveh t'at, but Mickey, he'd hitchike onna backa t'trolley, steal Doyle t' cawp's hat an' t'row it downa seweh, an' she wouldn' say boo. So y't'ink she'd be takin' right up f'Mickey about t'kid, right? But she ain't." "Your mother is a shrewd woman," observes Dr. Levine. "Don't you think so?" "I guess," shrugs Sally. "She's gawt a livin' outa t'at dopey stoeh f 'twenny-five yeehs, I guess she must have sump'n awna bawl." "And what does the boy think?" follows Dr. Levine. "Oh, he wawnts t'stay wit' Alice an' Krause," declares Sally. "Calls 'em Ma an' Pap, like t'ey was his real fam'ly." "From what you've told me," concludes Dr. Levine, "they are.")

(Hand-me-down uniforms, Mr. Rickey? I hope Nat Low roasts you good.)

("Oi tell ye, Francis," exhales Ma, as she stuffs a thick sheaf of cash into a canvas bag, "it's good t'be doin' a narrmal business again." She slides the bag across the counter. "Yaaar ploombin' business," she chuckles, "has nivver doon bettar." "Oothar than me two meathead soons," frowns Uncle Frank. "Oi'm tellin' ye, Nora, soomthin' has GAAHT t'be doon." "Barbara again?" frowns Ma. "Whoo ilse?" growls Uncle Frank. "Ye take a viper to ye boosom," snickers Ma, "doon't coomplain whin ye get bit." "Whoot's THAT s'poosta mean?" retorts Uncle Frank. "Yaaaar th' woon braaat'arr in 'eer," reminds Ma. "Oi thought that Oi could moold 'arr," sighs Uncle Frank. "Boot if she ain't pickin' paahckets whoile she's oot on 'arr roonds, she's oot all noit with Jimmy an' Danny." "BOOTH'ov'm??" gapes Ma. "Not aaat th' same toime," exhales Uncle Frank. "Least Oi doon't think soo." "Oi'll have noona ye voolgar poolroom taaaahlk in me store," snaps Ma. "Boot it sarrves ye roit, Oi bin tellin' ye farrr yearrs ye need to crack th'
whip aaahn thim two loonkheads." "Like you doon with Mickey?" "What?" "Noothin'...")

(Red Ryder is Pinky Rankin's grandfather.)

(Just a minute there, rabbit. Isn't Miss Pig involved with your BEST FRIEND Porky? Movie Bugs would never be so base.)

(I wonder if Ernie Bushmiller ever met Salvador Dali?)

("It was the funniest thing. I was at the beach minding my own business and suddenly this jerk shows up with a sketch pad...)

(What, MacPhail is the DA now? Never mind the murderers, GET THE TICKET SCALPERS!)

(And that's how Norman Rockwell ended up on an FBI watchlist.)

(And with that, Mary has just unseated Kayo Mullins as the ruling monarch of comic-strip trolldom.)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

"See?" sniffs Miss Kaplan," enjoying a Bickford's lunch with Mozelewski. "I tol' ya we din' have nut'n t'worry 'bout. We'eh sittin' pretty. We ain' gonna get laid awff." "Ten p'cent is still ten p'cent," frowns Mozelewski. "I don' like t'em awdds. Anyways, reason I ast ya heeh -- " "Yeh, yeh," snickers Miss Kaplan. "But don' get no ideehs, I ain' easy." Mozelewski makes an unspeakable face and plows onward. "Anyways," he resumes, determined to regain control of the conversation, "I'm gonna see'f I c'n tawk t' Frank Leary t'is week. See about gett'n'a plans f't'dress shawp movin'." "He don' even know ya alive," dismisses Miss Kaplan. "An'a'couese, I ain' gonna be ya model." "I'm hopin' we c'n have it goin' by t'is fawl," continues Mozelewski. "Couese, it's gonna be a lotta woik." "Joe won' stand fawr it," predicts Miss Kaplan. "An' lay awff t'at cheesecake," admonishes Mozelewski. "Awl me samples is size twelve."

At least Carlo didn't come home with a tobacco-chewing habit.

You know, there IS more than one ball of yarn in the world.

Hmph. Gould would have shown the body.

Never mind this, where did YOU get a chicken?

Signing a letter to your wife "Lord Plushbottom?" Maybe that's your problem right there.

C'mon, Walt, you were never this fussy with Skeezix. OK, well, maybe you were, but you never resorted to drink. Well, maybe once or twice...

And if you've ever wondered what GI lingerie looks like...

A year of suffering and privation was well worth it.

And someone has torn off the back page of the comic section, and with it today's "Terry," but a quick trip to the out of town newsstand yields results...

April has never been as helpless as she acts. And the News never makes Caniff give up half his page for a dumb ad.