The Era -- Day By Day

[LizzieMaine]

Meanwhile...

("Whassat papeh?" glances Alice. "T' Daily Woikeh??" "Yeh," nods Sally with a defensive frown. "T' Daily Woikeh. An' lookit t'is colyum heeh, Nat Low. You know heeza one innehviewed Durocheh coupl'a yeehs back? T'ey been pushin' onnis t'ing f'yeehs -- weh ya t'ink I got t'em p'titions I was goin' aroun' wit'?" "I din'now t' Daily Woikeh hadda spoehts page," shrugs Alice. "I guess t'ey mus' root f't' Reds!" Sally glares. "Sawry," shrugs Alice. "Couldn' resis'....)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

"I'm sensitive, that's all!" -- Bogie

In Moscow, J. Stalin packs his pipe with a fresh load of Edgeworth Ready-Rubbed, lights up, and takes a deep and satisfying puff...

The snake that ate itself.

Got mine done Sunday. Nyaah.

"Stop, drop, and roll."

You didn't know all this? It was in all the papers.

Your name might be "Smart," but that's as far as it goes...

Gonna be just like old times...

Poor Mamie. Ever read "Live Alone And Like It?"

You know, people other than crooks and bums DO use phone booths.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And finally...

"DIDJA MISS US??"

 

[Fading Fast]

"I din'now t' Daily Woikeh hadda spoehts page," shrugs Alice. "I guess t'ey mus' root f't' Reds!" Sally glares. "Sawry," shrugs Alice. "Couldn' resis'....

I love Alice. This woman has overcome a lot to be where she is, yet she still has a good attitude. That's not easy to do.

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

Gonna be just like old times...

The pistol joke writes itself.

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

Oddly, it is nice to see Kay and Mae again.

 

[Fedora Frank]

Man reading about what they thought of doing to world leaders associated with Herr Hitler they didn’t pull any punches back in the day!

 

[Fedora Frank]

Amazing the shows back then!

 

[LizzieMaine]

Inspired by the current "Gasoline Alley" sequence recapping the life and lore of Skeezix Wallet, I thought a similar recap for our own ongoing Day By Day story, which tells the story of an -- atypical -- Brooklyn family living their lives thru the times we cover. They are...

Sally Sweeney Petrauskas -- soon to turn 33 years old, works on the cathode assembly line at the Western Electric vacuum tube plant in Kearny, New Jersey. She is a tense, high-strung woman whose obsessions include former Dodger second baseman Pete Coscarart, her abiding dislike for high school classmate-turned-famous-newspaper columnist Dorothy Kilgallen, and a wide assortment of causes and slights, both real and imagined. Her nerves have been stretched to the breaking point by the drafting last year of her husband --

Joe Petrauskas -- Son of Lithuanian immigrants who died when he was young, raised in Williamsburg by his sister Lina, met Sally in 1936 at the Brooklyn Roseland dance hall, where they bonded over a mutual love for hot swing music. A level-headed, easy-going fellow who bears a striking resemblance to John Garfield, Joe worked for years on the production line at the Crown Pickle Works, but left that job early in 1942 to take a war job at the Sperry Gyroscope Company. He remained there until he was drafted in early 1944, and after training as an Army cook, he was promoted to the rank of Technician Fifth Grade and sent overseas just in time for Operation Dragoon. He was recently wounded outside Strasbourg, France, in a sniper attack that killed his corporal.

Leonora Petrauskas -- Joe and Sally's daughter, born on September 7, 1941. She startled her parents at the age of two by spontaneously displaying the ability to read, and thru the intercession of Dr. Simon Minkoff, a friend of the Ginsburgs downstairs, she has been entered in a program for the study of gifted children at New York University. But she would much rather help her grandmother --

Nora "Ma" Leary -- Immigrated to the United States under unrevealed circumstances around 1905 as a girl of 16, met and eventually married Peter Sweeney, a hod carrier who, after the birth of their two children, abandoned Ma while serving overseas during the First World War. His whereabouts are unknown. Ma operates Lieb's Candy Store on Rogers Avenue in East Flatbush, but the sale of sodas, candy bars, cigarettes, and newspapers is a mere front for the extensive bookmaking operation carried on from the store's back room. She recently married her longtime companion --

Francis X. "Uncle Frank" Leary -- A plumber by profession, who found success during Prohibition with an extensive bootlegging operation operated out of his shop on Bedford Avenue and a warehouse distillery in Bushwick. Uncle Frank helped raise the Sweeney children, and served, in his own way, as a stabilizing influence in the face of Ma's occasional rages. Uncle Frank has twin sons from a prior marriage, who serve as the muscle for his operation. He also formerly employed --

Alice Dooley Krause -- Abaondoned by her mother on the Fulton Street El in 1907, Alice was raised by "the sisters" at the Brooklyn Orphans Asylum. She ran away from "the home" at the age of ten, and spent years livng by her wits until, having grown to be a large, brawny woman, she went to work for Uncle Frank, driving his truck on deliveries and other missions as assigned. She was arrested in 1938 following an assignment gone wrong, and served five years in prison. Upon her release in 1943, she found a job with Western Electric, where she met and became fast friends with Sally, who has no idea of her previous connection to the family. On New Years Eve 1943, Alice married --

Sid Krause -- Superintendant of the apartment house at 1762 63rd Street where the Petrauskas family lives on the third floor. He is an unusually quiet man, devoted to his work, whose silence conceals a past of great tragedy -- while he was serving in the First World War, his wife and daughter both died during the Spanish Flu epidemic. He has found new purpose in his second family, which also includes --

Willie Sweeney Dooley -- Six year old son of Sally's brother Mickey and Marie Belasco, a woman with whom Mickey had carried on an ill-fated affair. When Mickey was captured in Sicily and sent to a German prisoner of war camp, he sent a coded message to Ma which guided her to the boy. Marie Belasco then abondoned the child in Ma's store and fled to California. WIllie bonded with Krause, and after several months it was agreed that he would live with the Krauses. When Marie Belasco resurfaced, acting in league with Ma's former henchman Hops Gaffney, Uncle Frank manipulated events to produce a counterfeit birth certificate listing Alice as the mother, and had it inserted in city records in place of the genuine document.

Also populating the scene are --

Michael "Mickey" Sweeney -- Sally's older brother, and an irresponsible hoodlum who has been in and out of trouble with the law his entire life. He once carried on an affair with Alice Dooley, and Alice took the rap for him in the incident that led to her imprisonment. He was given the alternative of joining the Army or going to prison in 1941, and since his capture in Sicily, he has rarely communicated with the family back home.

Barbara "Bink" Scanlan -- A young gum-chewing pickpocket who acts as runner for Ma's bookmaking and numbers operations, and also works, or at least simulates working, in the store.

Mendel and Esther Ginsburg -- An elderly couple who live on the first floor of 1762 63d Street. Alice saved their lives when they were overcome by a gas leak, and they have become surrogate parents to her, as well as honorary grandparents to both Willie and Leonora. They take a particular interest in Leonora's education.

Dr. Lena Levine -- Sally's psychiatrist, whom she began seeing every Sunday afternoon after an incident in which she threw a railroad guard off a platform in an effort to get aboard a train carrying Joe to a point of embarkation. Dr. Levine is both patient and perplexed with her unpredictable patient.

Sgt. Tommy Doyle -- Of the Empire Boulevard Police precinct, he is paid well by Uncle Frank for "overlooking" various illegal activities, and is a reliable confidant.

Ignatius J. "Inky" Quinlan -- Swave and always debonair, he is Uncle Frank's personal forger, responsible for the counterfeiting of everything from liquor labels to birth certificates. He fancies himself a fine artist, but his skills have their limit.

Miss Kaplan -- Former co-worker of Joe's at Sperry's, who pines for him with unrequited love.

Emil Mozelewski -- Another former co-worker at Sperry's, he was an iceman before the war, but a chance encounter with a copy of "Harper's Bazaar" left on a break room table led him to discover a real talent for designing fine womenswear. He hopes to open a shop of his own after the war, and will positively not employ Miss Kaplan as his model.

MIldred McCullough Kelly -- Childhood friend of Sally's, who married the captain of the Erasmus Hall High School football team and aspires to social grace. She worked for a brief time as a foreman at the Western Electric plant, until she slipped Sally a Benzedrine tablet in an effort to improve her productivity, sending her into a manic spree that lasted for two days. She currently works at Sperry's, where Miss Kaplan views her with lasting contempt.

Branch Rickey -- President of the Brooklyn Dodgers, who has been targeted by a constant campaign of personal harassment by Sally since 1943, in an effort to convince him to reacquire Pete Coscarart, traded to Pittsburgh in 1941.

Harold Parrott -- Mr. Rickey's long suffering assistant, formerly a columnist for the Eagle, who isn't quite sure why his boss is so frightened of this strange woman...

Solly Pincus -- Joe's best friend, who worked with him at the pickle works until he joined the Army the day after the Pearl Harbor. Was wounded in combat during the Middle Eastern campaign, and came home for a furlough early last year. Miss Kaplan found him very interesting.

and

Stella the Cat -- Brought home by Joe in 1940, she sleeps under the kitchen stove and tries to stay away from Leonora.

And that should bring our new readers up to date...

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Whassee expec' marryin' a cigarette goil?" snickers Miss Kaplan. "I neveh liked t'at Erroll Flynn anyways, an' ya know why? Ya look at 'im an' ya jus' know he's gawt bad breat'. I mean, some people, t'ey jus' do. You neveh wanna get too close t'wum, 'causezzat stink comin' out wheheveh t;ey open'neh yap." "Hm," hms Mozelewski, not looking up from his sketchbook. "I mean," continues Miss Kaplan, "now you take Joe f'rzample. He's t' awpposite. Y'd get closeta him an' he didn' stink. Smelt like, I dunno, machine erl, awr brisket, awr, you know, good t'ings t'smell." At this, Mozelewski looks up and submits an eyeroll. "Speakin'a Joe," he offers, "I hoid fr'm t'at guy Leary las' night. Y'know? Joe's fawrteh-n-lawr a'sump'n?" "WhassEE wawnt?" interrogates Miss Kaplan, her eyes narrowed. "Same as las' time," shrugs Mozelewski. "Wants t'borreh that dress I loaned 'im f'ris wife las' time." "She roon'ta't dress," frowns Miss Kaplan. "Ripped t'front." "I fixed 'at," declares Mozelewski. "Put innis -- insoit inna front, y'know, kinda give a little extra -- room -- y'know? Anyways, he says 'e's takin'eh out awna town, annee wawnt'seh t'look swell." "Joe's mot'eh'r'in'lawr," scowls Miss Kaplan. "Gran'moteh of his chil'. Goin' out awna town. At 'eh age. T'at ain' right. You should tell'm so." "He's payin' me fifty bucks rent," notes Mozelewski. "An' remembeh, him an' me gawt an agreemen' -- afteh t'wawr he's gonna set me up in my own shawp." "Shawp rentin' dresses t'ol' ladies," snorts Miss Kaplan. "I ain' gonna be ya model!" "Neh," smirks Mozelewski. "I'll be lookin f'somebody youngeh!")

(In the boiler room at 1762 63rd Street, Krause, stripped to the waist and smudged with soot, industriously rakes the furnace. "Hey Pap!" shouts Willie, approaching from behind. Krause jumps at the sudden interruption, and his cigar stump is propelled into the flames. "Sawry," shrugs Willie. "Yeh," sighs Krause, wondering where he will get another....)

(JUST LIKE THE TOPS OF YOUR HEADS!)

("When sorrows come," laments Mr. Rickey, gazing out the window into Borough Hall Plaza, "they come not single spies, but in battalions." "So I've heard," shrugs Mr. Parrott. "Um, I have this letter, sir, a letter I thought you might like to read." "Was it submitted by a possible first baseman?" sighs Mr. Rickey. "No," admits Mr. Parrott, "but as I've suggested, you might call Camilli. Rumor has it that he is available." "Nonsense," blusters Mr. Rickey. "And I shall hear no more of it." "Anyway, sir," continues Mr. Parrott, "this letter came to me from a Mr. -- ah -- Sidney W. Krause, sir. I thought it was a very articulate statement of -- ah -- principle, and I thought you might appreciate what he had to say." "From where does this Mr. Krause submit his missive?" queries Mr. Rickey. "Uh --" replies Mr. Parrott, "the address is -- ah -- 1762 63d Street, sir. That's in Bensonhurst, I believe. Or Mapleton. Somewhere along there. Now if you -- sir, why are you looking at me like that?" "You are certain?" stammers Mr. Rickey. "Of that address?" "Yes, sir," nods Mr. Parrott. "It's right there on the envelope." "Judas Priest," exhales Mr. Rickey, his face blanched. "Am I to know NO PEACE?" "I couldn't say, sir," sighs Mr. Parrott...)

(I was really hoping there'd be wet cement.)

(Now Eugene Pallette is doing comics! It's a trend!!)

(They'll eat him alive. It might take a while, there might be leftovers, but they'll eat him alive.)

(What, you didn't get the telegram? All the telegrams you get, and you didn't get THAT one?)

(You can call Trix a lot of things, but you can't call him dumb.)

 

[LizzieMaine]

Meanwhile...

("T' Daily Woikeh r'again?" observes Alice, her eyebrows rising toward her pompadour. "Jeez, Sal, you awta be caehful 'bout bringin'at papeh inna plant 'eeh, people might get t'wrawng ideehr'aboutcha." "Hmph," hmphs Sally. "Nut'n wrawng wit'tis papeh. It's America, ain'nit? I c'n read any damn papeh'r I wawn'." "Din'choo say," notes Alice, "you gawt in trouble at Woolwoit's f'readin'at papeh?" "I gawt in trouble at Woolwoit's f'ra lotta t'ings," scoffs Sally. "T'is ain' Woolwoit's anyways. T'is izza phone comp'ny. T'eh brawd-minded." "Ah," sighs Alice. "Anyways," resumes Sally. "You know what t'day is? Inn'ehnat'n'l Women's Day. Women awl'oveh t'woil' stannin' up t'be coun'ed. Look'eeh -- Elizabet' Hawes, you know who t'at is? She useta design dresses f'rich dames, an'now she woiks f't' U-A-W. How 'bout t'at!" "What's Walteh Reut'eh need wit' dresses?" ponders Alice. "An' afteh t'wawr," continues Sally, "t'ez no stoppin' us, y'know, what women c'n do. I might be runnin'is plant!" "Nawt if t'ey see ya read'n'at papeh," mutters Alice. "What?" "Nut'n.")

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

In a world where phony counts are a dime-a-dozen, a phony archbishop is a refreshing new angle.

SO THERE.

Ever have one of those days?

She's also very precise.

Happy International Women's Day.

G. Bernard Shaw -- BOUNTY HUNTER!

Drowning in subtext.

Listen, son -- have you considered making a fresh start in another town?

Cabbies have really hard lives.

Torn between duty and conscience....

 

[Fading Fast]

"He's payin' me fifty bucks rent," notes Mozelewski.

Wow, that's about $900 today, to rent, not buy, a dress. I wonder if in WWII, with all the shortages, there was a haute-clothing rental biz.

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

JUST LIKE THE TOPS OF YOUR HEADS!

Good one, Lizzie.

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

Now Eugene Pallette is doing comics! It's a trend!!

Which gets Lucille Watson thinking, "I could play Mary Worth if the role ever opens up."

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

"An' afteh t'wawr," continues Sally, "t'ez no stoppin' us, y'know, what women c'n do. I might be runnin'is plant!" "Nawt if t'ey see ya read'n'at papeh," mutters Alice. "What?" "Nut'n."

Alice is the best.

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

I hope they were drinking when they wrote this.

 

[LizzieMaine]

Mozelewski is a decent, trusting sort of fellow, but like all artistes a bit naive. I would hope that Uncle Frank doesn't take advantage of that by slipping him an Inky Quinlan fifty.

I am 100 percent on board for a Mary Worth movie. Maybe they can get June Havoc to play Leona. (I miss Leona. At this point I'd even settle for Angel Varden.)

 

[Fading Fast]

Mozelewski is a decent, trusting sort of fellow, but like all artistes a bit naive. I would hope that Uncle Frank doesn't take advantage of that by slipping him an Inky Quinlan fifty.

I am 100 percent on board for a Mary Worth movie. Maybe they can get June Havoc to play Leona. (I miss Leona. At this point I'd even settle for Angel Varden.)

Carole Landis would also make a good Leona. She's too big a star by now, but Ann Sheridan would be a great Leona too.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Jeezuz," murmurs Sally. "Foehteen yeehs ol'." "Siddy was sixteen when he wen' in," shrugs Alice. "Inna las' wawr, I mean." "T'at kid t'eh," observes Sally, "looks like he oughta be in 8-B, not t' E-T-O." "It was easieh f' Siddy," sighs Alice. "He was awready bawl-headed. He wen' inna recruitin', y'know, weh y'sign up, an'na guy inneh was awl 'sorry, Pop, can't use ya.'" "Wasn'ee awready married t'en?" queries Sally. "Yeh," nods Alice. "An' I ast'im once why he wen' awff'n signed up f't'Awrmy, an'ee said he jus' gawt caught up inna excitemen'. Figyehed if ev'rybody t'ought he was a grown man he oughta ack like one." "Anney neveh foun' out?" marvels Sally. "Neh," replies Alice. "An'nif t'ey did, whoda caehed? I mean, y'know, he was goin' awff t'make t'woil' safe f'd'mocracy, wan'nee?" Sally is silent for a long moment. "Guess'at didn' woik out too good," she finally sighs. "Neh," agrees Alice. "It'll be diff'rn't t'is time, t'ough. I mean, it will, won' it?" "Yeh," nods Sally, as the train rolls on toward home...)

(Tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick....)

("How old," begins Mr. Rickey with a deep sigh, "is Mr. Barber?" "Uh," shrugs Mr. Parrott, "I don't know for sure. But I don't think he's forty." "Do you think," exhales Mr. Rickey, "that he could play first base?" "I think he's already under contract," replies Mr. Parrott. "The Giants?" snaps Mr. Rickey. "Old Gold cigarettes," sighs Mr. Parrott. "Ah," sighs Mr. Rickey....)

("Now tharrr, Nora!" declares Uncle Frank, shoving the paper across the counter. "See tharrrr. 'Ma Gaaaaartrude Villepigue!' That could be YOU!" "Bloody hell," snorts Ma. "Oi'm saaaarious," insists Uncle Frank. "We'll caaaaahl th' place 'Cloob Leary,' an' YOU will be th' hoostess! Picharrr ye self, doon oopta th' noines, welcoomin' th' pooblic." "Francis," frowns Ma, her expression stern, "are yoooou drinkin'?" "Ye know fool well Oi nevar tooch th' stoof," dismisses Uncle Frank, "except t' check th' quality. Oi'm saaaarious. Maybe ye doon't realoize it, butchee gaaaht a parrsonality." "Oi do?" puzzles Ma. "Ye do," nods Uncle Frank. "Ev'rybaaahdy in this neighbarhood knows ye. Ye knoow what they caaahl ye?" "What??" scowls Ma, her arms folded. "Th' Oooold Lady," declares Uncle Frank. "Boot," he hastens to add, "they mean it with respect. Loike caaahlin' ye th' Graaaand Ooold Lady, y'knoo?" Ma glares uncomfortably. "WHAT," she finally demands, "has gaaaht inta ye, Francis?" "Nora," Uncle Frank replies, "we have gaaaht t'keep oop with th' toimes. It's loike Doyle said t'me t'ooothar day, it ain't 1929 noo marr. If we waaant t'make a livin' we gaaaht t'give th' pooblic what it waaants." "Hmmph," sniffs Ma, scanning across the page. "BIg gaaaaarl shoow." "Oi NIVVAR SAID..." hastens Uncle Frank. "Ye didn't haftarrrr," glowers Ma...)

(BUT WHAT ABOUT THE GOOSE????)

(Well, if Mary doesn't want the job, I'll give it a try...)


(Careful, hon. Show business will break your heart, ravage your soul, and leave you flat. On the other hand, there's free popcorn.)

("Milton WHO?")

(Yeah, well, cute only gets you so far....)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

And sometimes *real life* is a Preston Sturges movie.

"Sigh." -- Sid Krause.

"Unless you'd be willing to take a couple of shifts..."

"And stay away from mustard pickles."

Yep, Proverbs 28.:1. Good research, Gus.

Oh, I can't wait to see how this ends up.

Well, I dunno, but wherever you go, you better get there quick.

Terry's so cute when he talks tough.

Couldn't you just try Sen-Sen?

 

[LizzieMaine]

And also...

"What's that you're reading?" queries Dr. Minkoff, noting Leonora intently studying a page. "Ah," he nods, observing the title. "And -- ah -- where did you get this paper? Hmm? Won't you tell me?" "Ma's paper," mutters Leonora. "Go 'way. Leemee 'lone." "Ah," nods Dr. Minkoff, making a note in his little book.

 

[Fading Fast]

And sometimes *real life* is a Preston Sturges movie.

Is Eddie Bracken too old to play the thrice-married soldier?

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

What the heck kind of logic is that?