The Era -- Day By Day

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Page Four has been on such a great run lately I guess we were overdue for a dud. But I do hope these reporters qualify for hazard pay.

The Boston papers aren't being anywhere near so nice about this.

"See, I KNEW there was a reason to bring this flag!"

The other side of the tracks, huh? Is that down by the gas works?

We've had a lot of ruthless characters in this strip, but most of them have been, you know, demented. BB Eyes, however, seems to be completely sane, and that's a place Mr. Gould seldom goes.

Well, at least he's got the posture for it.

Either that or Andy was waylaid by a roving band of Red Cross volunteers.

Yeah, shoulda eloped when you had the chance.

Didn't we already do the "it's her brother and besides he's a minister" bit with Lana?

With burlesque shut down, they're getting stressed.

 

[Fading Fast]

...

The City Fusion Party today called for a full investigation of all issues related to the alleged use of city materials to pave the courtyard of National Democratic Chairman Edward J. Flynn's Lake Mahopac estate. Miller M. Brister, Fusionist chairman whose party supported Mayor LaGuardia in each of his three elections, declared today that he will appeal to Governor Herbert H. Lehman should city investigations fail to reveal "every detail of their findings" in connection with the affair, "no matter where they may hit." Testimony of witnesses already examined by ousted president of the Municipal Civil Service Commission Paul J. Kern and Investigation Commissioner William J. Herlands revealed that at least 24 employees connected to the office of the Bronx Borough President were involved in "paving irregularities," with their time sheets falsified in a cover-up effort. Although Bronx District Attorney William J. Foley has announced he will begin presenting the case to a grand jury within ten days, Mr. Brister warned that if the entire results of the probe are not made public, the Fusionists will see no other alternative than to demand an impartial investigation from another source.
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Kern's getting some allies and momentum behind him. This one isn't going away. And a note, it isn't just a "courtyard" that was paved, it is an "antique Belgian courtyard."

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Author Rachel Field, whose novel "All This And Heaven Too" was a best-seller in 1938, and was made into a motion picture two years ago with Bette Davis, has died of pneumonia following a surgical operation. She was 47.
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They're coming, but antibiotics can't get here fast enough.

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(ED HEAD! ED HEAD! ED HEAD!)
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How old is that Durocher photo as I think that pate had a lot less hair on it by '42?

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(Back into the funnies? Yup, they start next week in "Mary Worth.")
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That walks a bit close to the fourth wall.

And in the Daily News...

Page Four has been on such a great run lately I guess we were overdue for a dud. But I do hope these reporters qualify for hazard pay.
...

Fair point, we'll give it today, but we need an update on the Sutton hotel killing (with an emphasis on the 27- or 28-year-old Ms. Webb) and the Iowa double jilter tomorrow.

And in the Daily News...
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The other side of the tracks, huh? Is that down by the gas works?
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Please make it stop.

And in the Daily News...
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View attachment 410359
We've had a lot of ruthless characters in this strip, but most of them have been, you know, demented. BB Eyes, however, seems to be completely sane, and that's a place Mr. Gould seldom goes.
...

Agreed and it makes this murder feel much more ruthless and real than all the crazy ones in the past. It was why I noted yesterday how this one really is tough for kids. Kids are able to make the distinction between exaggerated stuff - comic strip gruesome killings, movie shoot 'em ups - and the real thing and this one feels real.

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Yeah, shoulda eloped when you had the chance.
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Note the date, time and panel three as where the wedding war began. Methuselah Dad is already digging in.

 

[LizzieMaine]

Yeah, either Leo got a scalp doily, or that pic is ten years old. Maybe his thinning thatch is why he's in such a bad mood with the writers. But hey, Tommy Holmes has only one arm, and you don't hear him snapping and snarling at people.

I'm picking up an imperious Biblical patriarch thing from Mr. Clock today, which adds a whole new perspective to that bit a couple years ago when he came to the city to visit Skeezix and found him with Tula. "WHO IS THIS, YOUR CONCUBINE?"

Something tells me that BB Eyes won't live long enough to make his date with the chair.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("I'll Be Back!'" No, that's not quite it. Hmmm. 'See Ya Later, Alligator!' No, makes me sound like some kind of rattle-brained hepcat. "I'll return!" No, that's not quite it. "I Will Return." No, I just don't know..." "DOUG WILL YOU PLEASE STOP TALKING TO YOURSELF AND GO TO SLEEP!" "Very well, my dear. I shall.")

A strong appeal for an offensive on another front by the Allies was made last night by Soviet Ambassador Maxim Litvinoff at the 140th dinner of the New York Economic Club, held at the Hotel Astor. Ambassador Litvinoff argued that, although risks are involved in creating another front, "action involving risk has, at any rate, some chance of success, wheras inaction also involving risk is practically never crowned with success." Hitler, warned the Ambassador, will not "wait until the Allies have piled up overwhelming armaments.

Brooklyn's last remaining "girlie-girlie" theatre has closed after more than a quarter of a century in operation. The operators of the Star Theatre, at Livingston and Jay Street, announced today that the theatre will remain closed in view of the expiration of its operating license, and the withdrawal by theater manager Sam Raymond of an application for a new license. Mr. Raymond stated today that he chose to withdraw the application because, in view of Mayor LaGuardia's crusade against burlesque, he believed that it was unlikely the application would be approved by License Commissioner Paul Moss. It is anticipated, however, that the owners of the theatre will challenge the city's position on their type of entertainment in court if Supreme Court Justice Aaron J. Levy rules favorably on challenges now being pursued by the operators of several Manhattan burlesque houses denied license renewals by the city.

Assistant Attorney General John H. Amen has until April 20 to renew his protest against the contemplated retirement of Police Inspector Camille C. Pierne of the 10th Division, whose "official conduct" in supervising plainclothes detectives assigned to investigations of gambling in Brooklyn has been challenged. "Particularly," stated Mr. Amen, "we have had under investigation Inspector Pierne's conduct relating to two orders from the Police Commissioner to investigate signs of "unusual prosperity" among the men in his command, and 'confidential information' that has come to the Police Commissioner indicating that handbook operators in all parts of the city are "being choked for protection money by the plainclothesmen." The Amen Grand Jury is reported to be "especially interested" in whether Inspector Pierne has carried out these orders, or whether he had failed to do so, and had in one case "returned a false report to the Police Commissioner that such an investigation had been made." The 60-year-old Inspector Piene has served on the force since October 1905, and if his retirement is approved, he would be entitled to a city pension of $2950 per year.

("What's a antique Belgian cowutya'd?" wonders Joe, gesturing at the kitchen window. "Izzit like t'cowutya'd out'eah?" "Nah," nahs Sally. "Less gawbage cans -- an' moeh graaft.")

(Red Norvo, Mildred Bailey -- and Durante? 'Scuse me while I go buy a ticket.)

(Careful, kid, it's no game for amateurs.)

(Leo doesn't like Dixie. Dixie doesn't like Leo. Larry doesn't like anybody. 1942 figures to be quite a ride.)

Amos 'n' Andy will make a rare guest appearance tonight, joining bazooka-blowing Bob Burns on his program over WABC at 8:30. The performers share the same soup-making sponsor, keeping the affair in the family. The special appearance is to mark Amos and Andy's fourteenth anniversary on the air. That's, officially, tomorrow, but what's a day among friends?

("Give 'im the high hard one!")

("The sort who learn easily...if you're patient with them.")

("Oh, and don't bring the marked cards and loaded dice, I won't be needing them today. Unless you'd care to....?")

(You can tell Sr. Arriola used to work for Disney.)

(I had no idea Dan could do dialects.)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Miss Lee has in fact completed that novel -- look for "The G-String Murders" in better bookstores now. Unless Butch has a problem with it. Oh, and I'm very disappointed to learn that Mrs. Roosevelt can't change a tire. Maybe she should get some pointers from Princess Elizabeth.

"Who left the barn door open -- and where are the horses?"

"We both get the same clients -- the living, and the dying."

No wonder they figured him out -- who but a cop would wear those shoes?

HOARDER!

OK, wiseguy, let's see you get out of this.

"OG MIG!" Twenty-four years they've been building up to this.

There are times when I am truly in awe of Frank King's skill.

Wait, her brother is Jack Carson?

Awww, my grandfather used to hang around the kitchen in his undershirt and suspenders like this. But he was never that lucky on slot machines.

 

[Fading Fast]

("I'll Be Back!'" No, that's not quite it. Hmmm. 'See Ya Later, Alligator!' No, makes me sound like some kind of rattle-brained hepcat. "I'll return!" No, that's not quite it. "I Will Return." No, I just don't know..." "DOUG WILL YOU PLEASE STOP TALKING TO YOURSELF AND GO TO SLEEP!" "Very well, my dear. I shall.")
...

...

("What's a antique Belgian cowutya'd?" wonders Joe, gesturing at the kitchen window. "Izzit like t'cowutya'd out'eah?" "Nah," nahs Sally. "Less gawbage cans -- an' moeh graaft.")
...

The PR benefits for Kern, the Citizens Union and anyone for good gov't of this being an "antique Belgian courtyard" cannot be exaggerated. It reeks of elitism and arrogance: stealing taxpayer money to build yourself an antique Belgian courtyard on your lakefront home shows a blatant disregard for the public you, in theory, "serve."

You can feel 1942 stumbling around for the phrase "conflict of interest" to explain why Foley shouldn't be conducting the investigation.

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(Leo doesn't like Dixie. Dixie doesn't like Leo. Larry doesn't like anybody. 1942 figures to be quite a ride.)
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If you could mix up eras, how much fun would it be to have Billy Martin manage a team for Larry MacPhail? One or the other would be dead before spring training was even over, but it would be entertaining as heck while it lasted.

And in the Daily News...

Miss Lee has in fact completed that novel -- look for "The G-String Murders" in better bookstores now. Unless Butch has a problem with it. Oh, and I'm very disappointed to learn that Mrs. Roosevelt can't change a tire. Maybe she should get some pointers from Princess Elizabeth.
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I'm all for winning the war, but we have the entire rest of the newspaper for that. And while I appreciate the picture of Ms. Lee in her writer's outfit (clearly, it's not a drafty room), it's now day two of not having an update on Ms. Webb of the Sutton Hotel murder or our Iowa double jilter. Page Four is forgetting is raison d'être.

And in the Daily News...
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"Who left the barn door open -- and where are the horses?"
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Humans are gonna human, the only way to truly protect the women is to legalize and regulate.

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View attachment 410688
Wait, her brother is Jack Carson?
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Plus what brother and sister sit on the couch like this:

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Someone has to keep our women in shape..." Yeah, I don't think you need to worry about that. And amidst all the bad news, let's have a cheer for Louis Williams, who, with skills like that, has to have a future in show business.)

A "very large" aluminum plant, designed to employ between 10,000 and 20,000 workers will be constructed in the metropolitan area -- probably in Brooklyn, it was announced yesterday by Mayor LaGuardia. In a statement released by his office following yesterday's St. Patrick's Day Parade, the Mayor indicated that word had just been received by Chairman Jesse Jones of the Reconstruction Finance Corporation that contracts for the plant have been signed and a location selected. The plant, strongly advocated by Parks Commissioner Robert Moses, is one of four such facilities to be constructed by the government nationwide, with the others allocated to Boston, Philadelphia, and Chicago, in order to utilize surplus electric power in the chosen cities. The Mayor added that further details on the new factory will be forthcoming from Washington "within a few days."

City officials, Navy Department authorites, and shore defense experts are studying the charge by an American ships' engineer that brightly-lighted beach communities are the underlying cause of recent sinkings of US vessels by Axis submarines operating off the East Coast -- and that such sinkings will continue until those communities are effectively blacked out for the duration. Engineer James Robinson of 459 61st Street, who was one of fourteen crew members rescued when his merchant ship was downed recently by a U-Boat off the Jersey coast, flatly declared that "brilliant illumination along the beach outlined" his ship so clearly that "we might as well have operated with the lights on." Robinson likened the brilliance of those lights to the blazing illumination of Coney Island, pointing out that the famed Brooklyn beach is likely one of the most brightly-lit points in the world at the height of the summer season, and he warned that unless highway, advertising, and other outdoor lights are eliminated, the problem of ship sinkings can only get worse

(Pretty snazzy bed -- too bad they couldn't get Asta to do an endorsement.)

Radio comedian Jerry Colonna was, by his own confession "bug eyed" today when he learned that his draft number was the fourth drawn in today's draft lottery. The 37-year old banjo-eyed, handlebar-moustached sidekick to Bob Hope holds draft number 441, and is married with an adopted son. "Look at me!" he declared, with eyes swelling and moustache bristling. "I'm dumbfounded!"

(Commissioner Moss is not acting alone in all this. Inquiries directed to the office of the Archbishop of New York, one Francis J. Spellman, might prove illuminating.)

Were it not for her age and health, Miss Mabel Shaw of Brooklyn would be donning her uniform once more for her third tour of wartime service in the Army Nursing Corps. Just out of nursing school in 1898, Miss Shaw was one of the first nurses to join the service, just in time for the Spanish-American War, where she was stationed at the sprawling, disease-ridden Army camp at Chickamagua, Georgia, where she lived on a diet of greasy pork, fried potatoes, and black coffee while working sixteen to eighteen hours a day tending to invaldided soldiers caught in the midst of a typhus epidemic. She served again during the First World War, joining the American Ambulance Corps in 1914, where she preceded the U. S. Army to France by three years, serving wounded French and Belgian troops, and then, when the United States joined the war in 1917, she returned to the Army, serving in military hospitals both stateside and overseas. She then moved on to Germany, where she served with the Army of Occupation into 1919. She remained in touch with many of the boys she knew in France until the Nazi occupation closed off communications.

Reader James F. Rogan writes in to accuse Paul J. Kern of malice in his recent statements alleging political corruption in the city government. "It would be interesting to know," insinuates Mr. Rogan, "if Mr. Paul Kern would have remained silent about any facts he possessed which now seem to be disturbing his conscience, if he had remained a member of the Municipal Civil Service Commission."

(Ripped from the headlines!)

A ninety-nine year old fakir faces new charges of practicing medicine without a license. Moisha "The Pasha" Byron, clad in a long robe and a fez, was arraigned yesterday in Pennsylvania Avenue Court on a charge filed by Paul Van Beverhaut, a British West Indian employed at the Brooklyn Navy Yard, that the Pasha charged him $59 to cure a headache. Van Beverhaut stated in his complaint that Byron pronounced several incantations over a ring immersed in water, but that this treatment did not cure the headache. The charge is the third lodged against Byron for selling hocus-pocus for cash.

(It's a pity there are no spring-training highlight reels in 1942, because I would dearly love to see Mr. Camilli, not a man known to be fleet of feet, lumbering out an inside the park home run. Oh and FITZ PITCHES TODAY! For the first time since, uh, that game...)

Pete Reiser, a St. Patrick's Day baby even though he's not exactly Irish, turned twenty-three yesterday.

The new trend is radio is programs broadcasting from Army camps. Tonight, Kay Kyser will conduct his College of Musical Knowledge from March Field, in Riverside, California. Tomorrow, the Kate Smith Hour emanates from the US Marine Barracks at Quantico, Virginia. And this coming Sunday will find Jack Benny and his gang holding forth from Mather Field in Sacramento, California -- one of the few camps on the Coast not yet to have been visited by a radio troupe.

("Banjo-heads?")

(The patent must've expired on Doc Static's cosmic-ray dingus.)

(This is why you should always keep your clippings in a scrapbook.)

(These outfits are only forty years out of style, but in 1942, they do, indeed, seem like something from Mars.)

("Batman? Never heard of him.")

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Yeah, yeah, go work on your speech.

The first twenty-one pages of today's News are nothing but MacArthur, MacArthur, MacArthur, blah blah blah. Why should he need to take a plane to Australia when he coulda just walked across the water?

When Sam the Presser left, he gave Doctor Zee the keys to the kingdom.

"An unwrapped two-thousand year old corpse on the kitchen floor! THAT'S IT I'M REALLY QUITTING THIS TIME! REALLY! *sigh* I'll put the kettle on..."

Not that we needed a war for this to be true.

"Pat Ryan is on the air! Coming to you every day, Monday thru Friday, from the makers of that delicious Libby's Tomato Juice!"

"Huh," says the hardware clerk. "Yeah, that's our billhead. Lookit, got a whole pad of 'em. Look, you monkeys gonna buy somethin' or ya gonna waste my time all day?"

Sigh. At least Phyllis isn't drunk and screaming.

The sad thing is, Mamie and Willie are actually the most devoted married couple in the funnies.

You gotta admit, he's not wrong.

 

[Fading Fast]

...


(Pretty snazzy bed -- too bad they couldn't get Asta to do an endorsement.)
...

Or Sandy. He's been building up a pretty good book of endorsement since he hired the new agent.

Sandy: "Asta's overplayed and too 'Hollywood' for your average dog to relate to him. Plus, he's a bit of a ham."

(Good to see there's no jealousy in the star dog world.)

...

(Commissioner Moss is not acting alone in all this. Inquiries directed to the office of the Archbishop of New York, one Francis J. Spellman, might prove illuminating.)
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It really does have a "now that the important Manhattan people have seen 'Woman of the Year,' 'you' people in Brooklyn can see it" feel. That said, Joe and Sally should go just so that Sally can make her snarky comments afterwards.

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Reader James F. Rogan writes in to accuse Paul J. Kern of malice in his recent statements alleging political corruption in the city government. "It would be interesting to know," insinuates Mr. Rogan, "if Mr. Paul Kern would have remained silent about any facts he possessed which now seem to be disturbing his conscience, if he had remained a member of the Municipal Civil Service Commission."
...

I thought Kern got booted because he spoke up while still employed. Regardless, it doesn't change the facts about the corruption itself.

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A ninety-nine year old fakir faces new charges of practicing medicine without a license. Moisha "The Pasha" Byron, clad in a long robe and a fez, was arraigned yesterday in Pennsylvania Avenue Court on a charge filed by Paul Van Beverhaut, a British West Indian employed at the Brooklyn Navy Yard, that the Pasha charged him $59 to cure a headache. Van Beverhaut stated in his complaint that Byron pronounced several incantations over a ring immersed in water, but that this treatment did not cure the headache. The charge is the third lodged against Byron for selling hocus-pocus for cash.
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After they convict Moisha, they should charge all his clients with gross stupidity.

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("Batman? Never heard of him.")

We'll just accept the physics of what happened in panel two without any questions.

And in the Daily News...
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"Pat Ryan is on the air! Coming to you every day, Monday thru Friday, from the makers of that delicious Libby's Tomato Juice!"
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And the germ of an idea forms in Hedy Lamarr's brain.

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Sigh. At least Phyllis isn't drunk and screaming.
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It's like seeing the script being written for the 1950 movie "Father of the Bride."

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The sad thing is, Mamie and Willie are actually the most devoted married couple in the funnies.
..

Are you being fair to that other devoted comicstrip couple Kay and Harrington, oops, I mean Kay and Dan...oh never mind.

 

[LizzieMaine]

(If it hasn't yet really sunk in to people that THERE'S A WAR ON, the arrival of actual gas rationing cards will hammer the point home. And "the vari-colored flame of lights that is Coney Island" ought to at least deserve a by-line.)

Soviet troops having surrounded the German garrison at Gzhatsk were redoubling their efforts to encircle and strangle the enemy at Vyazma, 40 miles to the southwest, it was indicated today in front-line dispatches. The approaching fate of the Gzhatsk garrison was seen soon to duplicate that of the encircled German 16th Army in the frozen forests and swamplands of Staraya Russa. Reports from Moscow stated that the German forces at Gzhatsk are desperately short of supplies, and the Red Air Force is shooting down big German transports meant to resupply them as fast as they can be sent.

(Nope, that just isn't quite it.)

Remember Technocracy? The movement proposing to reshape human society according to scientific and engineering lines that swept up to a brief crest of popularity a decade ago is hoping to make a resurgence during these times of war, with a new Technocracy, Inc. office open at 82 Livingston Street. Inside the little storefront, the walls are emblazoned with impressive graphs and charts, and tables stand stacked with pamphlets explaining the principles by which Technocrats hope to overcome the present "economy of scarcity" thru the application of the principle that "all life is a form of power." Clad in crisp grey uniforms, the Technocrats of Livingston Street encourage all with an interest in the ideas of the movement to visit and receive literature -- with one exception. "We don't want any politicians in our movement, no sir," declared Technocrat Raymond Casey. "We won't let 'em join."

(Meanwhile, the inner councils of the DNC grumble "it wasn't like this when Farley was in charge.")

('Smatter, kid, that pile of waste paper under your bed not good enough for the scrap drive?)

Funeral services will be held in Hollywood tomorrow for film producer Laurence J. Darmour, the former resident of Flushing best known for discovering Mickey Rooney. Darmour set up the Larry Darmour Film Studio in 1925 to produce two-reel comedies, and signed the five-year-old Rooney in 1926 to play the role of Mickey "Himself" McGuire, the tough boy in the Toonerville Folks series. Darmour's company produced over 300 short films before the producer closed down the studio to enter feature production for other companies. In recent years he has produced the Jack Holt westerns and the Ellery Queen mystery melodramas. Mr. Darmour was 47, and had been ill for several months.

(I thought Fitz was supposed to pitch yesterday, what's the problem? And Mr. Gerber here looks like he might also be a big deal on the chess team.)

Pittsburgh Pirates manager Frankie Frisch continues to swing his cutlass at the Bucs' training camp in Bradenton, Florida -- as of today, only three Pirates remain from Pie Traynor's time as Pittsburgh manager: first baseman Elbie Fletcher, and pitchers Bob Klinger and Max Butcher. Everyone else has been disposed of by trades, sales, minor league reassignment, or outright release. Considering that Frisch took over the club barely two years ago, there has never before been so complete a dismantling of a franchise in so short a time. Former Dodger Pete Coscarart is expected to start at shortstop for the Bucs this year, filling the spot vacated when Arky Vaughan was sent to Brooklyn, and fellow ex-Dodger Jimmy Wasdell is expected to nail down a full-time outfield job.

("Whenna Pittsboigs comin' heah foist?" demands Sally. "Um," ums Joe, squinting at the clipped-out schedule tacked to the wall among the recipes, air raid precautions, and yellowing photos of a certain departed second baseman, "Novembeh 12," he replies. "Gonna be cold. Weeah ya wool coat." "Ya 3-A f'now, wiseguy," growls Sally. "Ya wanna stay t'at way?")

Employees of the Sperry Gyroscope Company will compete on next Tuesday's "Battle Of The Sexes" broadcast over WEAF.

(Dummkopf! You got the stand-in!)

(Poor George. So much mental illness goes untreated.)

(Now go get the dustpan to sweep up your shattered illusions.)

(Imagine that. Emmy Plushbottom has a sister in Mexico.)

("No food is kept there, but they have fifty pigeons in the house. And for some reason the whole place smells like fried chicken.")

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Isn't it a little gratutious to drag Sonja into the story when she was just an innocent bystander? I mean, it's not like she had to be rescued from a swarm of ants.

Well all right then.

"Yes, that was a terrible cholera epidemic, all those poor orphans. And there was this American woman, a sharp-faced platinum blonde in an old football jersey. And there was this tall Irishman who always smoked a pipe, and this fat Britisher with a big red beard, and this little Southern girl who stood by making cow eyes at the Irishman. Wonder whatever happened to them?"

"Give me that paper! I need to see if there's any sales going on for new slipcovers!"

Tomorrow: Walt moves into Avery's garage.

Hahahahahahahahaha!

There's a train leaving for New York in half an hour. You've all still got time.

Next week's Sunday page is shaping up to be a doozie.

"No dazzling boulevard?" Keep your bourgie observations to yourself, you snob.

Don't be hasty, Willie -- spiritual reflection is good for the soul.

 

[Fading Fast]

(If it hasn't yet really sunk in to people that THERE'S A WAR ON, the arrival of actual gas rationing cards will hammer the point home. And "the vari-colored flame of lights that is Coney Island" ought to at least deserve a by-line.)
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The wrestling coach-PhD brouhaha at C.C.N.Y. is an example of a ridiculous job requirement 1942 style and we know it only gets worse from there.

...


(Meanwhile, the inner councils of the DNC grumble "it wasn't like this when Farley was in charge.")
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"...jauntily undetailed about 'the Flynn case'."

I think I read somewhere it wasn't just a "courtyard," but an "antique Belgian courtyard" that is in question.

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Funeral services will be held in Hollywood tomorrow for film producer Laurence J. Darmour, the former resident of Flushing best known for discovering Mickey Rooney. Darmour set up the Larry Darmour Film Studio in 1925 to produce two-reel comedies, and signed the five-year-old Rooney in 1926 to play the role of Mickey "Himself" McGuire, the tough boy in the Toonerville Folks series. Darmour's company produced over 300 short films before the producer closed down the studio to enter feature production for other companies. In recent years he has produced the Jack Holt westerns and the Ellery Queen mystery melodramas. Mr. Darmour was 47, and had been ill for several months.
...

So we have him to thank for the, rightful, grumbling and complaining about all of three minutes out of the otherwise outstanding movie "Breakfast at Tiffany's."

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(Dummkopf! You got the stand-in!)
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Getting awfully close to overlapping with "To Be or Not to Be," but then I guess there are only so many Hitler plots possibilities in 1942.

And in the Daily News...
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"Yes, that was a terrible cholera epidemic, all those poor orphans. And there was this American woman, a sharp-faced platinum blonde in an old football jersey. And there was this tall Irishman who always smoked a pipe, and this fat Britisher with a big red beard, and this little Southern girl who stood by making cow eyes at the Irishman. Wonder whatever happened to them?"
...

"A 'football' jersey, in China?"

"Soccer."

"Oh."

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"No dazzling boulevard?" Keep your bourgie observations to yourself, you snob.
...

But think of all the money the city can make charging Hollywood licensing fees to make film noir movies there. The city should have a good run for about two-decades with that revenue source.

 

[ChiTownScion]

So remind me. In what way, shape, or form was this Honey/ Goofy marriage ever a good idea? Or was Mr. Ed merely trying to instruct us as to the long term adverse consequences of decisions made in the heat of passion?

 

[LizzieMaine]

I can't imagine that Goofy, with whatever kind of a spine condition he has that causes him to have that strange extendable neck, is anywhere near being 1-A material, so they can't use the war as an excuse. And he can't even use the "it is better to marry than to burn with passion" excuse, not if he's pals with Covina's poster boy for satyriasis there.

 

[LizzieMaine]

(Annnnnnnd at last we get the money quote. Took ya long enough! And two hundred and thirty cheers to the patrolmen who brought in the elusive Mr. Rockower. Silk stockings and lingerie, huh? Tell us more, please.)

An appeal by 1940 Republican Presidential nominee Wendell Willkie today urged the U. S. Navy to drop its bar on service by Negroes, who are presently not permitted to join the Navy in any capacity except as mess attendants. Speaking as chairman of the inaugural dinner of Freedom House, anti-Axis center at 32 E. 51st Street in Manhattan last night, Mr. Willkie pointed to the story of Messman Doris Miller, a 22-year-old from Waco, Texas, who, while serving in the mess aboard the battleship Arizona during the Japanese attack last December 7th, manned a gun and opened fire on the raiding Japanese planes, and continued firing until his ammunition ran out. For weeks after the incident, even Miller's name was unknown, but as Mr. Willkie pointed out in his speech, "there's one fact we know positively -- he cannot enlist in the United States Navy, and only for the reason that he was born with a black skin."

Two quick-thinking Brooklyn patrolmen saved a woman threatening suicide on a ledge in Prospect Heights by pushing her off the ledge and into a life-saving net stretched below. Mrs. Edna Egbert, age 50, of 497 Dean Street, climbed out the second-floor window of her apartment around 3pm yesterday, shrieking that she intended to leap to her death. A radio car from the Hamilton Avenue precinct quickly arrived with a safety net, while Patrolmen Edward Murphy and George Munday of the Bergen Street precinct broke into the apartment and pleaded with the woman to climb back to safety. When she punched and kicked at them, the patrolmen stopped trying to pull her back inside, and instead shoved her off the ledge -- and into the waiting net. She struggled with police even after she landed in the net, and was finally subdued, wrapped in a straitjacket, and taken to Bellevue Hospital for observation. Mrs. Egbert is said to have been brooding over the fate of her son, who is in the Army, and who has not written to his mother in over a year.

("Better make it $16, I've got a lot to testify about.")

99-year-old Civil War veteran Robert E. Summers was among the honored guests at yesterday's dedication of the new downtown headquarters of the Brooklyn Red Cross at 57 Willoughby Street. Chairman Clifford R. Beardsley radioed a message to General Douglas MacArthur in Australia that at least 75,000 donations of real Brooklyn blood will soon be on the way to fortify American fighting men.

("Includin' mine!" declares Sally, patting the bandage on her arm. "Jus' a pint?" inquires Joe. "I'da giv'm more," demurs Sally, "but I din' wanna hog t'credit. Oh, an' y'know who I DIN'T see? KILGALLEN!")

(But if you want the two pairs of pants, you better hurry -- when the stock is gone, it's gone for the duration.)

(And wait'll the gas rationing starts!)

("The Wasp-Waisted Georgian." And speaking of wasp waists, WHERE'S FITZ???)

Ray Robinson will look for his 29th consecutive professional victory in a 12-round welterweight bout at Madison Square Garden tonight, against Norman Rubio. Oddsmakers favor "Sugar Ray" at 3 to 1.

(You'd think they'd be used to this by now.)

(Have you had this apartment checked for fumes?)

("Oh, you're not so bad. I mean, let me tell you about my son Slim...")

("Lil Abner? Never heard of him!")

(Following sprayed-orange pigeons in a slow plane. MAKES SENSE TO ME!)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

I never get invited to parties like that.

"Profits, if any..."

"But we don't have any coffee. Will Postum do?"

So why do we spend so much tax money on feeding the troops??

Jeez, Tracy, a snazzy convertible on a detective's salary? Mr. Amen wants a word with you.

OK, NOW we could use the DL.

Somebody reads too many detective pulps.

Everyone will be there but the bride and groom!

Striking a match on your uncle's stomach? RUDE!

C'mon, Shad, we know you want to.

 

[Fading Fast]

...

Two quick-thinking Brooklyn patrolmen saved a woman threatening suicide on a ledge in Prospect Heights by pushing her off the ledge and into a life-saving net stretched below. Mrs. Edna Egbert, age 50, of 497 Dean Street, climbed out the second-floor window of her apartment around 3pm yesterday, shrieking that she intended to leap to her death. A radio car from the Hamilton Avenue precinct quickly arrived with a safety net, while Patrolmen Edward Murphy and George Munday of the Bergen Street precinct broke into the apartment and pleaded with the woman to climb back to safety. When she punched and kicked at them, the patrolmen stopped trying to pull her back inside, and instead shoved her off the ledge -- and into the waiting net. She struggled with police even after she landed in the net, and was finally subdued, wrapped in a straitjacket, and taken to Bellevue Hospital for observation. Mrs. Egbert is said to have been brooding over the fate of her son, who is in the Army, and who has not written to his mother in over a year.
...

"Wow, when she was punching and kicking at you for trying to pull her inside and save her, it was smart of you to remember the net below and push her out instead."

"Net?"

...

("Includin' mine!" declares Sally, patting the bandage on her arm. "Jus' a pint?" inquires Joe. "I'da giv'm more," demurs Sally, "but I din' wanna hog t'credit. Oh, an' y'know who I DIN'T see? KILGALLEN!")
...

Once Kilgallen passes her nursing exams, the next time Sally goes to give blood, to her horror, she will hear this, "Just lie back, give me your arm and I'll stick this long dull needle in it. That's right, all the way back as you'll probably faint as you never had any real grit in high school."

...

(Have you had this apartment checked for fumes?)
,,,

"And now he's carrying an entire elephant with just one hand...wait, Tootsie?"

...

("Oh, you're not so bad. I mean, let me tell you about my son Slim...")
...

He's a seventy-plus-year-old swindler and card shark (and a failed one at that) who initially only wanted to marry Mary for her money; exactly what is this "good foundation" of character he has to build on?

And in the Daily News...


I never get invited to parties like that.
...

"Madeline Webb, looking a little more like a model and a little less like a wet hen..."

"I take umbrage!"

,,,

Jeez, Tracy, a snazzy convertible on a detective's salary? Mr. Amen wants a word with you.
...

"I can't park just any old car in my antique Belgian courtyard, you know."

 

[LizzieMaine]

(Sure we'll win -- ONCE WE STOP LOSING SO MANY SHIPS.)

Motorists planning to drive thru Queens, Nassau, and Suffolk Counties tomorrow were warned by gasoline station operators to fill their tanks before 7pm today, because few stations in those areas will be open on Sundays from now on. According to Frank Bansfield, president of the Long Island Gasoline Dealers Association, 99 percent of station operators in Queens have agreed to the 7pm Saturday curfew and to being closed all day on Sundays, and a majority of Nassau and Suffolk operators have also indicated that they too will follow those recommendations. Only about fifty percent of Brooklyn filling stations will follow the curfew plan, with the other half having opted instead for a policy of staggered operating hours. It is emphasized, however, that even among the stations that will operate tomorrow, the general policy will be to serve known regular customers first rather than opening the pumps to all comers on a first come-first served basis. It is expected that most stations will limit transient customers to no more than five or six gallons per sale, while reserving fill-ups for their regulars.

(Well, you could start by pressing Rep. Fish on just how Herr Viereck got access to his franking stamp.)

(Suburbia: The Early Years.)

(Yeah, and they didn't pitch Casey. No sense in taking chances!)

("'At Durante!" cheers Joe, as he and Sally trundle home on the trolley after a matinee show. "'Ev'rybody wants ta get inta de act!' he says. Wotta riot, wotta riot!" "Ya know," says Sally, "I seen him oncet when I was about sixteen. Me an' Mildred Cavenawr, y'know, f'm t' neighbehhood, we went oveh t' City an' seen Clayton, Jackson, an' Durante inna Village, at t'is -- um -- night club. Durante done t's bit wheah he smashes up t'piana. It was a scream. Fois' time I had Chinese food." "You went to a SPEAK an' ya had CHINESE FOOD when you was sixteen?" gawps Joe. "Five yeahs we been married an' ya neveh tol' me 'bout t'at." "Why should I?" huffs Sally. "You don' like Chinese food.")

("I say!" roars Mr. Churchill to his agent. "I thought you said you were going to get me into 'Orphan Annie!'")

(Obsession is a dangerous thing.)

(*snif*)

(Gordo is the anti-Shadow Smart. And do horned toads really say "gik?")

("Now lemme think, what does the red cloth mean again?")

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

There's no fool like an old fool. And Bernarr Macfadden follows the Compton-Bertram case and wishes he hadn't closed down the Evening Graphic. Imagine the possibilities for front-page Composographs.

"War is hell."

On the one hand, that strands Pat without a route of escape. On the other hand, he has his own tank.

"Wait'll I tell my pal Nick Gatt about this setup!"

Put some scratches on Cagney's face, and make him squint, and you've got the perfect BB Eyes.

Pay attention, kids, this is what it's like to be grown up.

Ah, Detective Ferrett! Last seen, you may recall, trying to track down the Gumps' missing French cousin Baby, who ended up involved with that dopey shoe salesman who posed as a prince. Ah, those innocent times.

"Yes dear, but take the long view. Once it's known how she plays, she'll never get invited to any of those rowdy hepcat parties."

That Moon has "flat feet" comes as no surprise, but a *job*?? The war's really getting serious!

Goofy's an idiot.

 

[Fading Fast]

(Sure we'll win -- ONCE WE STOP LOSING SO MANY SHIPS.)
...

Today, mainly in commodities, but also in some derivative markets, the term force majeure (literal translation, a greater force) is invoked when some unforeseen act of nature or war prevents one side from being able to honor a contract. There's a ton of legal stuff that comes into play and plenty of courtroom fighting when that happens, but it is a recognized legal aspect of market contracts.

That term came to mind reading the brief article about the 1942 edict on leases being terminated when a Gov't order puts a tenant out of business and thus is unable to honor the terms of their lease. That is a pretty clear case of force majeure.

...

("I say!" roars Mr. Churchill to his agent. "I thought you said you were going to get me into 'Orphan Annie!'")
...

From a dignity perspective, "Terry and the Pirates" would be the best one for Churchill, but even "Dan Dunn" would be a step up from freakin' "Sparky Watts" for the Prime Minister.

Thank God it wasn't "The Bungle Family," as George would turn the story into being all about himself and poor Churchill would be trying to figure out how George's neighbor carried that ice box upstairs using only one hand.

"Prime Minister Sir, it's the War Room on the line."

"Give me a moment, I'm trying to help George here with a problem. [Turning to George] You said he only used one hand?"

And in the Daily News...

There's no fool like an old fool. And Bernarr Macfadden follows the Compton-Bertram case and wishes he hadn't closed down the Evening Graphic. Imagine the possibilities for front-page Composographs.
...

"He liked young people with quick minds and modern ideas."

"I posed [nude] for them for the sake of art at a time when I had my career before me."

Uh-huh, yeah, that explains it.

...

Pay attention, kids, this is what it's like to be grown up.
...

In addition to being, as mentioned, the script for 1950's "Father of the Bride," this might be one of the most common conversations to ever take place as who hasn't witness a version of it several times is his or her life?