Classic Newsreel of the Month - December 2025

 Remembering the devastation.

Dinner last night:  Salisbury steak.

Don't Play These Records This Christmas

 

Gather around the record player at your Christmas gatherings and sing along with this horrible mess of holiday music.  You can start with Tiny Tim (shown above).  He's looking mad this Yuletide.  Maybe somebody didn't tiptoe through his tulips.

Because every shopping mall parking lots needs a bunch of muggers.
Oh, Heino. That Heino. Okay, anybody?

Why does this outer space galaxy home look like someplace Abe Lincoln lived in during the 1850s?

Making the Christmases fucking merry.

Oh, Bootsy Collins. Right. Bootsy Collins. Okay, anybody????

I'm not getting into that sleigh!

Here's something that should have been in Dennis Day's stocking. A box of condoms.

There are no words. Decking the halls and gassing the chambers.Does that dog look stuffed or what?

Dinner last night:  Sandwich. 

Nothing To See Here

 

As Netflix continues on its way to world domination, we look forward to their future as essentially the Costco for our daily entertainment.  One mediocre product after another.   How much can they ruin things for all of us?   Indeed, the real benefit for a lot of us older types are those streaming channels and networks dedicated to reruns of classic TV.

Yes, I can watch the "Baggage" episode of "Everybody Loves Raymond" another two dozen times.

Meanwhile, we are subjective to less than interesting made-for-Netflix films and the latest one is "Jay Kelly."  Here's the latest from George Clooney and it earns five yawns from me.  This is a film where nothing important happens or is said.  But it's Netflix so it commands our attention.  Not.

Clooney plays a big movie star who, late in life, wants to examine all the past relationships and friendships that he screwed up.   He does so on a crowded train through Italy.  His problems are numerous but nobody cares.   He's on his way to an industry tribute and I thought it was odd that the clip retrospective of Jay Kelly includes a clip retrospective of George Clooney.  I would have slyly winked at that moment, but I was afraid my eyelid would get stuck in the closed position.

There is one saving race in this snooze fest and it's the supporting performance of Adam Sandler as Kelly's harried and put-upon manager.   Sandler has Oscar buzz and try saying that five times fast.  The performance is good but is it worth your monthly fee for Netflix?

In fact, is anything worth your monthly fee for Netflix?

LEN'S RATING:  Two stars.

Dinner last night:  Hsmburger.

This Date in History - December 10

 

Happy birthday to the Nobel Prize.   And its founder, radio host Long John Nobel.

1041:  THE SON OF EMPRESS ZOE OF BYZANTIUM SUCCEEDS TO THE THRONE OF THE EASTERN ROMAN EMPIRE AS MICHAEL V.

Because the name Bobby Vee was already taken.

1508:  THE LEAGUE OF CAMBRAI IS FORMED BY POPE JULIUS II, LOUIS XII OF FRANCE, MAXIMILIAN I AND FERDINAND II OF ARAGON AS AN ALLIANCE AGAINST VENICE.

The League has no DH.

1520:  MARTIN LUTHER BURNS HIS COPY O THE PAPER BULL EXSURGE DOMINE.

The guy that started my religion!!

1541:  THOMAS CULPEPPER AND FRANCIS DEREHAM ARE EXECUTED FOR HAVING AFFIAIRS WITH CATHERINE HOWARD, QUEEN OF ENGLAND.

Seems like she was the one who needed to be offed.

1684:  ISAAC NEWTON'S DERIVATION OF KEPLER'S LAW FROM HIS THEORY OF GRAVITY IS READ TO THE ROYAL SOCIETY.

All this big deal just because an apple fell on his head.

1799:  FRANCE ADOPTS THE METRE AS ITS OFFICIAL UNIT OF LENGTH.

Je ne care pas.

1817:  MISSISSIPPI BECOMES THE 20TH STATE.

In my fantasy view of the US, this never happens.

1864:  DURING THE CIVIL WAR, MAJOR GENERAL SHERMAN'S UNION ARMY TROOPS REACH THE CONFEDERATE DEFENSES OF SAVANNAH.

The famous March to the Sea.

1868:  THE FIRST TRAFFIC LIGHTS ARE INSTALLED IN LONDON.

Back when people paid attention to them.

1884:  MARK TWAIN'S ADVENTURES OF HUCKLEBERRY FINN IS PUBLISHED.

Samuel Clemens, to you.

1901:  THE FIRST NOBEL PRIZES ARE AWARDED.

Back when they meant something.  Nowadays, you can buy one on eBay.

1906:  US PRESIDENT TEDDY ROOSEVELT WINS THE NOBEL PEACE PRIZE FOR HIS ROLE IN THE MEDIATION OF THE RUSSO-JAPANESE WAR.

His niece Eleanor never got one.  Obviously, it's all based on looks.

1909:  CHOREOGRAPHER HERMES PAN IS BORN. 

I always wanted to see the news headline if he got caught smoking marijuana.  "Pan Smokes Pot."

1909:  SELMA LAGERLOF BECOMES THE FIRST FEMALE WRITER TO WIN THE NOBEL PRIZE FOR LITERATURE.

See!  Eight years in and it's already going downhill.

1911:  JOURNALIST CHET HUNTLEY IS BORN.

Cigarette sales to go through the roof.

1914:  ACTRESS DOROTHY LAMOUR IS BORN.

On the Road to Uterus.

1922:  SOAP OPERA CREATOR AGNES NIXON IS BORN.

Here's her one life to live.

1923:  ACTOR HAROLD GOULD IS BORN.

Rhoda's dad!

1925:  ACTRESS JEAN BYRON IS BORN.

Patty Duke's mother!   And Patty Duke's aunt!

1927:  THE PHRASE "GRAND OLE OPRY" IS USED FOR THE FIRST TIME ON-AIR.

As opposed to the "Metropolitan Opry."

1928:  ACTOR DAN BLOCKER IS BORN.

That must have been some labor.

1936:  KING EDWARD VIII SIGNS THE INSTRUMENT OF ABDICATION.

All because of some woman.

1941:  ACTOR TOMMY KIRK IS BORN.

A real shaggy dog story.

1941:  ACTOR TOMMY RETTIG IS BORN.

Lassie!

1946:  AUTHOR DAMON RUNYON DIES.

Guys and Corpses.

1948:  THE UNITED NATIONS GENERAL ASSEMBLY ADOPTS THE UNIVERSAL DECLARATION OF HUMAN RIGHTS.

I much prefer the Paramount Declaration of Human Rights.

1955:  MIGHTY MOUSE PLAYHOUSE PREMIERES ON AMERICAN TELEVISION.

Here he comes to save the day.

1964:  CHEF BOBBY FLAY IS BORN.

Grill this.

1965:  THE GRATEFUL DEAD'S FIRST CONCERT PERFORMANCE.

What's that I smell?

1967:  SINGER OTIS REDDING DIES.

That's what you get for just sitting around.

1978:  PRIME MINISTER OF ISRAEL MENACHEM BEGIN AND PRESIDENT OF EGYPT ANWAR SADAT ARE JOINTLY AWARDED THE NOBEL PEACE PRIZE.

Peace in the Mideast?  Really???

1982:  ACTOR FREEMAN GOSDEN DIES.

Of Amos and Andy fame.  He was White, by the way.

1990:  BUSINESSMAN ARMAND HAMMER DIES.

Love his baking soda.

1999:  ACTRESS SHIRLEY HEMPHILL DIES.

No longer happening.

2005:  POLITICIAN EUGENE MCCARTHY DIES.

In some respects, this happened in 1968.

2005:  COMIC RICHARD PRYOR DIES.

Rumor is that his health was impacted by drugs.  Really?

2013:  THE LIFE OF NELSON MANDELA IS CELEBRATED IN A MEMORIAL SERVICE.

And I think it just ended last week.

2019:  CHILD ACTOR PHILIP MCKEON DIES.

Nancy's brother.

2021:  MONKEE MICHAEL NESMITH DIES.

I wonder whether he was buried with the ski cap.

2024:  ACTOR MICHAEL COLE DIES.

Not so mod now.

2024:  ESP EXPERT KRESKIN DIES.

Predict this.

Dinner last night:   Salad.

Moron(s) of the Month - December 2025

 

Okay, help me out here, folks.

California Governor Gavin Newsom.  To say that he is a complete moron is an understatement.  Corrupt.   Stupid.  Incompetent.   His vices and inadequacies are legend to many of the people who live in this state.

But what concerns me is what I heard from many of my liberal friends back on the East Coast.   While on a recent trip there, little Gavin's name came up in general conversation.  Inexplicably, they are intrigued by him.

WTF.

Alright, I get it, gang.   You people hate Trump and will endorse anybody short of Adolf Hitler against the orange-haired one.  They find Newsom even more interesting because the dope keeps seizing opportunities to make jokes about him.   Because they think he's funny, that's enough reason to hope he becomes the next President?

At several points in my trip, I was embarrassed by some of said friends.   Don't they keep their ears and eyes open.   Do they pay attention to a large failing state three thousand miles to the west?   Is anybody paying attention?

I've said this several times before.   If you live in California and know anybody that was touched by the wildfires of last January, how could you possibly consider Gavin Newsom as your next President?   I myself have direct connects to seven people who lost their homes.   

Doesn't that register with anybody?   How many monthly morons are there?

Dinner last night:  Leftover spicy noodles.

Monday Morning Video Laugh - December 8, 2025

 Where would we be without surveillance cameras?

Dinner last night:  Steak and mushrooms.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - Tis The Season to Buy Stamps

 

Tis the season to lick some stamps...fa la la la la la la la la.

Guess what?  They've even taken that fun away from us.  Postage is now self-adhesive.  No need to keep wetting your whistle so you can slobber up the back of a stamp for Aunt Helen.

I don't ever remember not sending out Christmas cards.  And, yes, folks, I do call them Christmas cards.  I was probably in the fifth or sixth grade when I started doing this process all by myself.  I was a semi-adult and this was a rite of passage.

"Hey, Mom, no need to sign your cards....'and Lenny.'  I've got it handled now."

I figured I was saving her a lot of work.  The gratitude was less than I expected.

"Do what you want."

As far as my mother was concerned, I could knock myself silly spending my own allowance to send out Christmas cards.  As long as I remembered that any cards to people who were not Christians must say nothing more than "Season's Greetings."  The way this was emphasized to me over and over, I decided it was a federal crime.  Nevertheless, it was the sword of Damocles that hung over me every single holiday season.

Hmmm.  My friend from gym class.  Is she Christian or Jewish? 

If I wasn't totally sure, it would bother me all day.  I longed for a directory of friends where religion was specified next to date of birth and favorite brand of candy.

Of course, I was even more bizarre in how I actually filled out my cards.  I would divide my friends into three tiers.  Some I barely tolerated.  Others who were closer.  And the last group was reserved for my very special chums.  And I wrote out my cards in that very specific order.  If your card was addressed within the first ten minutes of my process, you were definitely not high on my list.  Oh, yeah, hi, here's your card.

When kids started to write longer notes in their cards, I then obsessed over that.  You didn't want to simply sign your name if somebody sent you a greeting that was two chapters worth of "Crime and Punishment."  And you also didn't want to be the one getting longwinded when all you got back was "Happy Holidays, Russell."  It was always quite the annual dilemma.

Of course, my own cards were not the only ones I was entrusted with.  My yearly chore also included my role as the personal Christmas secretary for Grandma downstairs.

My grandmother couldn't read or write, so she definitely needed my help. She would pull out this address book which she probably bought with ration stamps in 1943. And, then, we would go over every single address as she would then relate some anecedotal story about the person. One name sounded even more German than the next.

"Reinfleinschmidtschultz........"  The names went on and on.  As did the stories.

"Her uncle was a Communist."

"They used to live in the Bronx but they moved because they wanted to be big shots."

"She married a Catholic."

This was my own personal version of "A Charlie Brown Christmas." The script never changed. The interesting thing is that most of the folks in my grandmother's address book were unknown quantities to me. They were all people she knew from years ago. Some of them came over to America on the boat with her. They lived in such faraway places as Michigan and Maryland and Staten Island. I doubt my grandmother had seen any of them in 20 or 30 years. But, they got a Christmas card from her every year. And they sent back.  I know because I'm the one who also had to read the incoming messages to Grandma.

Of course, this annual ritual also had the same beginning every year as well. It would start with this short exchange.

Grandma: "I don't think I'm going to send any cards this year. It's too much trouble."

Me: "If you don't send a card, all these people are going to think you're dead."

A short pause.

Grandma: "Okay, let's send."

We repeated that same scene year after year.

The Christmas after my grandmother died, I still sent all those people a card. With a short note telling them how much they had enriched my grandmother's life.

And that was the last time we heard back from any of them.

I send my own cards to this day.  I still sort them into groups of three.  You still don't want to be in that first grouping.

And, amazingly, some of the recipients are folks I haven't seen in a decade or two.  Should I cut down the work and save on postage?

Nah.

They'll think I died.

Dinner last night:  Spicy pork noodles.