The Era -- Day By Day

[LizzieMaine]

And also...

Coming Events...

 

[Fading Fast]

"At'sa stupides' t'ing I eveh read," sneers Sally. "T'at's whatcha cawl hallucinations. Seein' t'ings t'at ain' t'eh." "Ah," ahs Alice. "Bring back t' Bungle Fam'ly," Sally adds, wdding up the paper and tossing it under her seat. "Hey," she snaps, glancing across the car. "Look oveh t'eh! T'at's..." "No, Sal," sighs Alice. "No it ain't..."

Hopefully she'll tell Dr. Kaplan about these hallucinations - she should be seeing her tomorrow, right?

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

Still not Raven and Dude.

Not even close.

 

[LizzieMaine]

(The luminous hands on the alarm clock stand just after two as Sally's eyes snap open. She feels the weight of Stella the Cat in deep sleep upon the heavy comforter, and from behind the folding screen at the opposite end of the bedroom, the soft rasp of Leonora's snore. She lies in the darkness, conscious of another presence. She reaches for the bedside lamp and snaps it on to see Joe, in his civilian overalls, sitting quietly on the bedroom chair, his feet warming in the oven. "Wondehed how lawng it was gonna take ya," he remarks. "You ain' really heeh," exhales Sally, in a low, even voice. "Sueh'r' I am," shrugs Joe, suddenly sitting on the edge of the bed, now dressed in his Class A uniform. He taps her on the side of the head. "I'm awrways heeh." "Lot of us in there," observes another voice. Sally glances across the room to see Pete Coscarart leaning against the door in full Dodger regalia, slapping his fist into his glove. "I don't know why I'M here," sniffs Dorothy Kilgallen, examining her nails as she sits primly in the chair. "Do I even KNOW you?" Sally's eyes flare, but she says nothing. "I might have known you'd end up like this, though," comments Mildred Kelly with a smirk. "You always were the neurotic type." "Such wasted potential," sighs Miss Estella Vedder, third period English. "Don' lissen t'none'a t'em," admonishes Joe, now clad in a blue serge suit with a belt in the back. He executes a sweeping dance move. "T'em people don' know ya like I know ya." "It's yaaar ooon fault," snaps Ma, young and angular, with no grey streaking her hair. "Noobaaady waants t'be aroond a garrl doon't know whin t'keep arr mooth shut!" Behind her, Mickey snickers insolently, a cigarette drooping from his lips as Jimmy and Danny exchange knowing glances. "Now Nora," admonishes Uncle Frank. "Leave th' choild be..." "Easy f'YOU t'say," interjects a railroad guard, as he plummets out of view. "Indeed," adds Branch Rickey, his eyes beneath the heavy brows darting anxiously from side to side. "Look, " declares Patrolman Doyle as he handcuffs a Woolworth's picket. "I'm jus' doin' me duty." "Same as me!" nods Frankie Germano, adjusting his torn polo shirt. "Yussel has gone to do HIS duty," argues Mr. Ginsburg. "Just as you do yours by accepting his going," adds Mrs. Ginsburg. "But is duty the action," challenges Zippy the Parakeet, "Or is it the obligation to perform the action? " "Oh yes," nods Dr. Levine. "The fear of abandonment is the most primal of human fears. It begins at the moment the infant is separated from the mother at birth, and..." "I concur!" declares Leonora, looking thru absurdly oversized spectacles over the top of an enormous book. "Me too," agrees Stella. "Aren't they clever?" smiles Dr. Minkoff. "But Joe desoives betteh!" insists Miss Kaplan, as Mozelewski fusses with her slinky red gown. Rudy Vallee steps to the microphone and softly croons "The hoooouse is haunted -- by the echo of your last goodbye...." before he is cut off by a flying pair of step-ins. "Ain'tchoo gonna DO sump'n about t'is?" demands Alice, throwing a pot roast at Kirby Higbe. "Yeh," adds Krause. "Yeh," echoes Willie. "AWRIGHT, AWLAYEZ!" commands Joe. "SHADDDUP!" The apparitions vanish, as does the entire room. Sally's bed floats in a featureless void, as Joe, now in a grimy field jacket, takes her hand. "I'm comin' back," he insists. "He jerks his thumb toward a figure in a First World War uniform, back turned, as it walks off into the darkness. "I ain' nut'n like him," assures Joe. "No," acknowledges Sally, "You ain't." "MA!" interrupts Leonora, as Stella thumps to the floor. "STOP TAWKIN! TRY'NA SLEEP!" Sally's eyes snap open and her eyes flick to the alarm clock, its luminous hands standing just after two....)

("Thaaat was Shaughnessy!" announces Uncle Frank, hanging up the receiver and turning to Ma with a triumphant grin. "Oi told'jee he'd coom thru!" "He ain't coom thru YET," frowns Ma. She looks around the store. "Oi doon't see no tarrkey." "He's coomin' ovarr farrrst thing t'marra marrnin'!" assures Uncle Frank. "He's been oopstate. He waanted t'be surre he gaaaht exaaaaaactly what we needed!" "Ooopstate?" frowns Ma. "Good place farr a guffar loike him." "Oi can taste that baaaard roit now," beams Uncle Frank. "Bettar hoold onta th' leftoovars," frowns Ma...)

("And what," frowns Mr. Rickey, "is YOUR draft status?" "Um," sighs Mr. Parrott. "I'm 4-F." "Can you PITCH?" demands Mr. Rickey. "Um," stammers Mr. Parrott...)

Illustrator Charles Dana Gibson, creator of the famous "Gibson Girl" of bygone days, has died at the age of 77. Mr. Gibson sold his first illustration to the old Life magazine in 1886, and achieved great success with his creation of the pinups of Grandfather's day. The model for most of his drawings was his wife, Mrs. Irene Langhorne Gibson, sister of the famous Lady Astor, who was at his bedside until the end.

("Owoo?" That doesn't begin to describe it.)

(Hazard to air navigation? That's a federal rap, rabbit!)

(I mean, we ARE all a bit curious, right?)

(Leave on the spats, though.)

(Absenteeing from work NOW? SHAMEFUL.)

(That tombstone is real. Adolf Hittler was a Rumanian hat-maker. BELIEVE IT OR...oh, wait, wrong strip.)

(It'll serve them both right if they end up in Belgium.)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

The Copa? Well, they'd never let him in the door at Leon and Eddie's.

"JUST what I always wanted! A bottle of -- ah -- paregoric!"

Is this trip REALLY necessary???

Awww, it's a Christmas miracle.

"Oh well, as long as we're changing the rules..."

Once again, the most realistic married couple in the comics.

Brain, heart and courage. He's a one man Wizard of Oz.

But that's as far as it's gonna go.

Yep, a Real Old Fashioned Christmas. And I'm sorry, but that kid looks more like Wagonwheels than Jack. Hmmm.

Meanwhile, Pat, Connie, and Stoop creep thru a treacherous jungle, battle knives clenched in their teeth. Merry Christmas!

 

[LizzieMaine]

And finally...

Yeah, and I'm still sore about the World Series. GO BROWNS!

 

[Fading Fast]

Kudos on the dream sequence, Lizzie, it was very well done.

 

[LizzieMaine]

Believe it or not, I actually dreamed it. Most of it, anyway.

 

[Fading Fast]

Believe it or not, I actually dreamed it. Most of it, anyway.

That's fantastic - quite the vivid dream. It's probably why it played so well when you wrote it out.