This Date in HIstory - January 31

Happy birthday to Nolan Ryan.  I had to dig deep to find a photo of him in a Met uniform.   Where he should have stayed.

314:  POPE SYLVESTER I SUCCEEDS POPE MILTIADES.

This is not going to make Tweety happy.

1606:  GUNPOWDER PLOT - GUY FAWKES IS EXECUTED FOR PLOTTING AGAINST PARLIAMENT AND KING JAMES.

What a Guy.

1747:  THE FIRST VENEREAL DISEASE CLINIC OPENS IN LONDON.

Hey now.

1801:  JOHN MARSHALL IS APPOINTED THE CHIEF JUSTICE OF THE US.

Back when these judges actually were independent thinkers.

1846:  AFTER THE MILWAUKEE BRIDE WAR, JUNEAUTOWN AND KILBOURNTOWN UNIFY AS THE CITY OF MILWAUKEE.

Good, because it would be tough to fit Juneautown and Kilbourntown Brewers on a uniform jersey.

1849:  CORN LAWS ARE ABOLISHED IN THE UNITED KINGDOM.

So, no Hee Haw on the BBC?

1862:  ALVAIN GRAHAM CLARK DISCOVERS THE WHITE DWARF STAR SIRIUS B THROUGH A TELESCOPE AT NORTHWESTERN UNIVERSITY.

Insert your favorite satellite radio joke here.

1865:  AMERICAN CIVIL WAR - THE US CONGRESS PASSES THE THIRTEENTH AMENDMENT TO THE US CONSTITUTION, ABOLISHING SLAVERY.

So over 150 years later why the hell are we still arguing about this???

1865:  CONFEDERATE GENERAL ROBERT E. LEE BECOMES GENERAL-IN-CHIEF.

Don't get too comfortable in that saddle.

1902:  ACTRESS TALLULAH BANKHEAD IS BORN.

With a voice like that, you know she had a pack of Pall Malls in her purse.

1915:  TV PERSONALITY GARRY MOORE IS BORN.

King of the Crewcuts.

1917:  WORLD WAR I - GERMANY ANNOUNCES THAT ITS U-BOATS WILL RESUME UNRESTRICTED SUBMARINE WARFARE.

In 2017, this is the set-up for an X-Box game.

1918:  A SERIES OF ACCIDENTAL COLLISIONS ON A MISTY SCOTTISH NIGHT LEADERS TO THE LOSS OF TWO ROYAL NAVY SUBMARINES AND DAMAGE TO ANOTHER FIVE BRITISH WARSHIPS.

Did you get the license plate of that warship?

1921:  ACTRESS CAROL CHANNING IS BORN.

And still hanging in there.

1922:  ACTRESS JOANNE DRU IS BORN.

The only thing I know about her is she was Peter Marshall's sister.

1930:  3M BEGINS MARKETING SCOTCH TAPE.

How did they wrap Christmas presents before this?

1931:  BASEBALL STAR ERNIE BANKS IS BORN.

Didn't live to see the Cubs win the World Series.

1937:  ACTRESS SUZANNE PLESHETTE IS BORN.

With that voice, you knew she had three packs of Pall Malls in her purse.

1945:  US ARMY PRIVATE EDDIE SLOVIK IS EXECUTED FOR DESERTION, THE FIRST SUCH EXECUTION OF AN AMERICAN SOLDIER SINCE THE CIVIL WAR.  

Sharing this day with Guy Fawkes.

1946:  THE DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC OF VIETNAM INTRODUCES THE DONG.

I have no clue but it sounds funny.

1947:  BASEBALL STAR NOLAN RYAN IS BORN.

I remember his wife was really hot back in the day.

1949:  THESE ARE MY CHILDREN, THE FIRST TELEVISION DAYTIME SOAP OPERA, IS BROADCAST BY NBC.

As opposed to All My Children which debuted on ABC in 1970.

1950:  US PRESIDENT HARRY TRUMAN ANNOUNCES A PROGRAM TO DEVELOP THE HYDROGEN BOMB.

Give 'em hell.

1956:  AUTHOR A.A. MILNE DIES.

No more honey jars for you.

1961:  PROJECT MERCURY SPACE PROGRAM:  HAM THE CHIMP TRAVELS INTO OUTER SPACE.

Do you want cheese with that?

1968:  VIET CONG GUERRILLAS ATTACK THE US EMBASSY IN SAIGON.  THIS IS CALLED THE TET OFFENSIVE.

And pretty offensive at that.

1971:  THE WINTER SOLDIER INVESTIGATION, ORGANIZED BY THE VIETNAM VETERANS AGAINST THE WAR TO PUBLICIZE WAR CRIMES AND ATROCITIES BY AMERICANS IN VIETNAM, BEGINS IN DETROIT.

That war was truly a mess.

1974:  PRODUCER SAMUEL GOLDWYN DIES.

The G between two Ms.

2006:  ACTRESS MOIRA SHEARER DIES.

You don't need those red shoes now.

Dinner last night:  Leftover pork tenderloin and sauerkraut.

Whack!

Think about spending two hours with the dumbest, most God awful people you can find.   What's that, you say?   You already did that at Christmas with your in-laws.   Well, as horrific as they probably are, you haven't met the characters in "I, Tonya."  It is possible that liberals could possibly hate them more than Donald Trump.

Yeah, I realize that's a lofty goal.   But this bunch is truly detestible.  But the amazing thing about it?   I thoroughly enjoyed "I, Tonya."

If you slept through the 90s, you might have missed the media circus that erupted when Olympic skating hopeful Tonya Harding allegedly had somebody take a bat to the back of rival skater Nancy Kerrigan's knees.  I say "allegedly" because the folks involved are still contradicting each other about what really happened.   Director Craig Gillespie masterfully juxtaposes "current day" interviews with flashbacks to merrily confuse everybody after the real events. It is a perfect representation of human frailty and what happens when ego gets in the way of...well, just about everything and everybody.   

At the same time, you laugh through all this pain and trauma because it really happened and the notion that "you can't write this shit" is completed validated with every frame of "I, Tonya."

Craving some horrible language?  This is the movie for you with the uber-offensive "c word" uttered at least a half dozen times.   But the crudeness of these characters fits them to a tee as Tonya Harding and company are as trashy as white trash can be.   

You can start with Tonya's anvil of a mother, a woman so despicable that she makes Joan Crawford look like June Cleaver.   This role is essayed by the always dependable Allison Janney, who is certain to get an Oscar nomination for this live action edition of Cruella DeVille.  Again, she's so mean in her treatment of her skating daughter that you giggle all through the pain.   Can people be this mean?  Apparently yes.

Tonya Harding is played to a brilliant turn by Margot Robbie and, to say she makes some wrong choices in life would be like expecting to see Nancy Pelosi at Trump Tower for New Year's Eve.   She clearly is the product of an abusive upbringing and has the scars and welts to prove it.   One of the blows from her mom might have gone to her head because she inexplicably hooks up with an opportunistic yet fatally stupid boyfriend named Jeff and played by Sebastian Stan.   This is the epitome of the lowlife you're afraid your daughter will bring home for dinner.   But, again, through the stupidity, you are laughing.  Heartily.

Indeed, every thing or person that these lunkheads come in contact are hateful and damaged and laughable.   You can't believe you're spending all this time getting involved in their story...and enjoying every moment.

Truth be told, I didn't commit to memory what really happened back in 1994 when the whole incident of Harding and Kerrigan went down.   As a result, I was mesmerized to find out how it would play out.   But, given the misguided clowns in this movie, you really are left to make your own conclusions at the end.   And when a movie has you discussing it afterwards, that is always a good thing.

Janney's performance alone is worth the price of admission.   She is up for Best Supporting Actress against Laurie Metcalf of "Lady Bird."    I can't think of two more dependable or watchable actors in the universe.

But there's a lot more to see in "I, Tonya."   If only your in-laws were this compelling...

LEN'S RATING:  Three-and-a-half stars.

Dinner last night:  Sausage, peppers, and onions.

Monday Morning Video Laugh - January 29, 2018

I'm sorry I laughed at this.   Oh, who am I kidding??  LOL!!

Dinner last night:  Pork tenderloin roasted with sauerkraut and apples.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - Filling In The Gaps

Like a lot of people these days, I am looking at my own genealogy.  I know a bunch of folks were gifted this past Christmas with those spit kits that can tell you where your ancestry is from.   Indeed, I gifted myself with such a device as I continue to search for all the missing pieces on my mother's side of my DNA. You'll hear all about this here when the saliva results return.

In the meantime, though, I got into a protracted conversation with my childhood best friend Leo over lunch last week.  After all these years of friendship, he still astounds me with his intellect and just might be the smartest of all my pals.  As a former engineer, he has always presented a very thorough and linear method to solving any problem. 

Well, when we started talking about our respective family backgrounds, he naturally had all the pertinent facts on these family search websites.  And, being the friend he always has been, he dove into a couple of them and started to research my family.  I was fascinated by what is out there.   And aghast at some of the specifics.

For instance, you can examine US census records at ten year intervals.   The first time my grandparents (Dad's mother and father) were counted, their birthplace was listed as Russia.   Huh?   Ten years later, the same report listed Poland as their homeland.   One more decade and they came from Germany.

Crazy.

Moreover, my dad's date of birth, always set in the Bronx, meandered across two different years.   Same with one of his older brothers, of which there were three.  I was named after one of them.

I then drifted myself over to some World War II military records.   And then, for some reason, I accessed military casualty records.  This should be no surprise to me.  I knew what I would find.   Of the four brothers all serving their country during World War II, only three would come back.   The one I am named after did not.

I saw it in these records.   And was completed unsettled by the information.  There it was.   My name.   And the letters "KIA."   That's not the car, folks.   

"Killed in action."

The flood of memories and emotions flowed one more time.

My "Uncle Lenny" was killed in the south of France about two weeks before the Nazis surrendered and almost at the same that Hitler bought the big one in the bunker.  I remember when I first saw that date.  How ironic.  So close and yet...   I wondered if anybody in my family acknowledged and lamented that bitter irony.

As usual, nobody said a thing.

Oh, my grandmother would casually mention him in a story.  There was a Purple Heart (I think it was purple) that hung in her living room.  I recall once her pulling some mementos out of a drawer.  There was a small flag that you could hang in your window during World War II and it signified how many in your household were serving in the military.  And there was another hanging cloth that let folks know you had lost a loved one.

Years later, I personally ran across some papers after my grandmother died.  There were several letters from the War Department letting my family know in what French cemetery he was laid to rest.  The actual longitude and latitude of his gravesite was listed.  Not that anybody went to visit it.  Ever.  There were other notes and documents that effectively closed out my uncle's life as far as the military was concerned.  Oddly, the telegram providing the grim news was not saved.  Or, perhaps, it was thrown away in a hailstorm of emotions.

I don't know.  More questions.  And now and forever, no answers.

Another level of confusion pops up.  I think about my uncle's grave in the south of France.  What was the thinking behind this?  Was there any thought to bringing him home to the United States?  I asked my grandmother once and she didn't remember.  Or want to remember?

I once heard a rumor that my mother was dating my uncle before ultimately hooking up with my dad.  When I would pose this query, I'd get the usual wave of the hand.  True?  False?  Or simply "go away, kid?"

Now I did know that my uncle was engaged to be married to a woman named Stella when he died.  I'm in on this intel because my grandmother sent her a Christmas card every year.  I used to write them out for her, so I would use the opportunity every December to do a little fishing.

"You sending a card to Stella?"

Of course.  But little else came.  Except that she was a nice girl and lived in the Bowery.

Like a bum, I asked.

I was told I asked too many questions.  Frankly, I didn't ask enough.

So the non-information continued to flow.  And, ultimately, the number of relatives available for that thought-provoking press conference started to dwindle.  In fact, that whole generation...my parents and all my aunts and uncles...wiped out in one ten year period.  The last generation to succumb mainly due to liquor and nicotine.

This is why I now feel a little lost when it comes to my family roots.  While there is plenty of information to access on my dad's side, even the brilliant Leo ran into dead ends trying to find out anything about my mom and her sister who found up in an orphanage after their own parents died in succession back in the day when there were no antibiotics.  

It is why I spit into a beaker about a month ago.   Will I get to fill in more gaps when those analyses come back?  I hope for the best.   And expect...nothing.

Dinner last night:  Sausage and mushrooms.

Classic TV Theme of the Month - January 2018

Remembering the late Jim Nabors who passed away several weeks ago.

Dinner last night:  Grilled steak salad.

Everybody Is Selling Something

Dinner last night:  Bacon and cheddar omelet.

Len's Recipe of the Month - January 2018

Maybe I should just download all of Valerie Bertinelli's cookbooks onto this blog.   I keep referring to it constantly.   And the above dish is the latest shareable concoction from her recipe card file and it's a twist on an old staple.

Remember Hamburger Helper?   If you ever cooked in college, that was a Godsend.   Open the box, dump some ground beef in a pan, and instant meal. Well, Bertinelli has fond memories of it, too and devised a version of it that does not come in a box.   I tried it and the flavors are terrific because it's got a bit of a kick to it.   Plus if you've got a cast iron skillet that can go into the oven, you can pretty much cook this all in one pan.  

Here's how you start.  First turn on the broiler mechanism on your oven and let that warm up.

Put two tablespoons of unsalted butter and melt them in preferably a cast iron pan like above.   Brown about one pound of ground beef.   While I always say that a 80% blend has more flavor, you will want the 90% mix here.  In this case, the less fat, the better.   Add about a quarter teaspoon of black pepper and a whole teaspoon of kosher salt.

When it's all nice and brown, add the following:

8 ounces of uncooked elbow macaroni.

2 cups of whole milk.

1 1/4 cups warm water.

1/4 teaspoon dry mustard.

1/4 teaspoon paprika.

1/4 teaspoon garlic powder.

1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper.   Yep, this gets the meal a little heat.

Mix this all together well, cover, and let it simmer for about twelve minutes.

Add some cheese now.   Valerie suggests shredded Cheddar and shredded American.   I didn't have the latter in the house, but I did have some leftover Asiago from the holidays.   That worked fine.   You'll want 1 1/2 cups of the Cheddar and 1/2-3/4 cup of the other.   Stir it and let the cheese melt.   Add some chopped chives...a few tablespoons.

Top the skillet thoroughly panko breadcrumbs.   Throw into the oven underneath the broiler for a few minutes.   Let it all come to a golden brown.

The meal is delicious and the leftovers can be parceled out in Tupperware for freezing.   

Thanks again, Valerie.   And you're welcome.

Dinner last night:  Leftover chicken noodle soup.

This Date in History - January 24

Happy birthday to Mary Lou Retton.   Do a backflip.

AD 41:  ROMAN EMPEROR CALIGULA, KNOWN FOR HIS SADISTIC DESPOTISM, IS ASSASSINATED BY HIS DISGRUNTLED GUARDS.

If he lived in Hollywood these days, his latest film would be pulled.

1438:  THE COUNCIL OF BASEL SUSPENDS POPE EUGENE IV.

Without pay?

1679:  KING CHARLES II OF ENGLAND DISSOLVES THE CAVALIER PARLIAMENT.

In water.

1758:  DURING THE SEVEN YEARS' WAR, THE LEADING BURGHERS OF KONIGSBERG SUBMIT TO ELIZABETH OF RUSSIA, THUS FORMING PRUSSIA.

Elizabeth always liked a good burgher.

1835:  SLAVES IN BRAZIL STATE A REVOLT, WHICH IS INSTRUMENTAL IN ENDING SLAVERY THERE 50 YEARS LATER.

Which was only 20 years ahead of us.

1848:  JAMES MARSHALL FINDS GOLD AT SUTTER'S MILL NEAR SACRAMENTO.

Thar's gold in dem thar hills.

1857:  THE UNIVERSITY OF CALCUTTA IS FOUNDED IN EAST ASIA.

I bet there's a 7/11 on campus.

1908:  THE FIRST BOY SCOUT TROOP IS ORGANIZED IN ENGLAND BY ROBERT BADEN-POWELL.

And I bet there are some who thought he was a pretty creepy guy.

1916:  IN BRUSHABER VS. UNION PACIFIC, THE US SUPREME COURT DECLARES THE FEDERAL INCOME TAX CONSTITUTIONAL.

Bastards.

1917:  ACTOR ERNEST BORGNINE IS BORN.

Let's celebrate.   Whaddaya wanna do, Marty?

1933:  THE 20TH AMENDMENT TO THE US CONSTITUTION IS RATIFIED, CHANGING THE BEGINNING AND END OF TERMS FOR ALL ELECTED FEDERAL OFFICES.

This is a good thing?

1941:  SINGER NEIL DIAMOND IS BORN.

I'd celebrate but he introduced us to the song "Sweet Caroline" so...no.   And, no, I am not retracting that joke because of his recent admission of Parkinson's.

1943:  ACTRESS SHARON TATE IS BORN.

Poor kid.

1943:  FRANKLIN D. ROOSEVELT AND WINSTON CHURCHILL CONCLUDE A CONFERENCE IN CASABLANCA.

Play it again, Sam.   Little does Winston know that, on this date 22 years later....well, read on.

1949:  ACTOR JOHN BELUSHI IS BORN.

What a waste of talent.

1960:  ALGERIAN WAR - SOME UNITS OF EUROPEAN VOLUNTEERS IN ALGIERS STAGE AN INSURRECTION KNOWN AS THE "BARRICADES WEEK," DURING WHICH THEY SEIZE GOVERNMENT BUILDINGS.

So just a regular day.

1965:  WINSTON CHURCHILL DIES.

See!

1968:  GYMNAST MARY LOU RETTON IS BORN.

9.2, 9.3, 9.5.

1972:  JAPANESE SGT. SHOICHI YOKOI IS FOUND HIDING IN A GUAM JUNGLE, WHERE HE HAD BEEN SINCE THE END OF WORLD WAR II.

Gee, I hope he stopped his newspaper.

1975:  STOOGE LARRY FINE DIES.

Why I oughta!

1983:  DIRECTOR GEORGE CUKOR DIES.

In Hollywood, he made a lot of movies.   And a lot of young guys, too.

1984:  APPLE COMPUTER PLACES THE MACINTOSH PC ON SALE IN THE US.

Nobody will buy it.

1986:  RELIGIOUS LEADER L. RON HUBBARD DIES.

L as in Lunatic.

1986:  SINGER GORDON MACRAE DIES.

No liver transplant would save him.

1989:  SERIAL KILLER TED BUNDY DIES.

What goes around...

1993:  LAWYER THURGOOD MARSHALL DIES.

So the black robe is fitting today.

2003:  THE US DEPARTMENT OF HOMELAND SECURITY BEGINS OPERATION.

Please remove your shoes.

2010:  ACTOR PERNELL ROBERTS DIES.

The Cartwright brother nobody liked.

2015:  TV HOST JOE FRANKLIN DIES.

No more memories in that lane.

Dinner last night:  Teriyaki chicken and vegetable stir fry.

Six Flags Over Woody Allen

For the last forty or so years, Woody Allen has maintained the amazing pace of putting out a movie once a year.   Naturally with that vigorous output, not all will be gems.   Indeed, there have been a few stinkers.  Critics have labelled the 2017 Woody Allen effort as one of the worst of the lot, although I will argue that even a mediocre or bad Woody movie is infinitely better than anything else out in the cinemas at any given time.

Okay, I think the treatment of "Wonder Wheel" has been harsh.  While certainly not one of his best, it definitely is watchable with some acting performances that should be appreciated.

Now to the title of today's review.   For some reason, amusement parks, most notably Coney Island in New York, have played a role in some of Woody's films.  In "Annie Hall," his family lived underneath the Steeplechase roller coaster.  In the autobiographical "Radio Days," the youngster who would be an adult Woody Allen played underneath the boardwalk nearby.   And now, in "Wonder Wheel," the main characters live right next door to the Ferris wheel.   There must be some sort of psychological connection why Woody keeps coming back to these thrill rides.

In "Wonder Wheel," the main characters all toil in and around Coney Island circa 1950-something.  There's Ginny (Kate Winslet), an emotionally volatile former actress now working as a waitress in a clam house; Humpty (Jim Belushi), Ginny's carousel operator husband; Mickey (Justin Timberlake??!!), a handsome young lifeguard who dreams of becoming a playwright; and Carolina (Juno Temple), Humpty's long-estranged daughter, who is now hiding out from gangsters at her father's apartment.  Add to the mix is Ginny's young son who just loves to start fires wherever he goes.

As for population, that's pretty much it.   And "Wonder Wheel" pretty much mixes and matches these four very flawed people.   Ginny is slowly going insane and is having an affair with Mickey who is also falling in love with Carolina who's trying to hide out from Mafia hit men.   The two mobsters look very much like Bobby and Paulie from "The Sopranos" and that's because they are played by the same two actors who were Bobby and Paulie from "The Sopranos."

For a Woody Allen movie, this is certainly a lot more drama and very little comedy.   But the actors excel in providing very astute performances with Winslet quite believable as she goes through all the stages that will land her in a mental institution.   Scenery is chewed quite liberally as to expected.  What also works in "Wonder Wheel" are the authentic locations.   As opposed to other movies that depict this New York borough while filming in Canada (I'm thinking of you, "Brooklyn"), Woody shoots right there and it just feels and looks like the real thing.  I did, however, recognize the carousel as the one in Rye Playland but, at least, that's still in New York State.

While all the aforementioned histrionics kept me interested in the film, the downbeat and hollow ending certainly was less than what I expected from a well-crafted Woody Allen film.  So, essentially, it's okay to take a ride on "Wonder Wheel."   Just don't complain when you get stuck a couple of time during the ride.  Again, a lousy Woody Allen movie is better than 90 percent of the junk at the other theaters in your multiplex.

LEN'S RATING:  Two-and-a-half stars.

Dinner last night:  Leftover chicken noodle soup.

Monday Morning Video Laugh - January 22, 2018

A priceless moment from "Young Frankenstein."  Funny no matter how many times you see it.

Dinner last night:  Homemade chicken noodle soup.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - Winters of My Youth

So, living in Los Angeles, I have a whole different barometer now for winter weather.   If it's raining and 50 degrees, I load up the slow cooker and make some soup.   Indeed, back in my kid days, just rain and 50 degrees would be considered balmy.

Ah, those winters of the past.  Here I am with a backyard pal.   Me and Frosty in the backyard. I doubt I had little to do with his erection, so to speak. My guess is that my father crafted him and I was just made available for these Technicolor photo ops that Dad longed for.

Only folks who grew up in the cold can fully appreciate the heavenly nirvana that the winter season often provided those of us in the younger demos.

A snow day.

This is what kids lived for. Indeed, the weather stars had to align perfectly and almost magically for us to get a day off from school. Ideally, you prayed for a big snow storm that would begin around 9PM on Sunday. Then it had to go all night long. That would result in teachers getting stuck coming back from a weekend. A healthy snowfall in the overnight hours could potentially screw up the entire school week.

Sweet.

Now, living in Mount Vernon and in close proximity to New York City, our snow days were tougher to come by. Mount Vernon liked to fancy itself as tough a gotham as the five boroughs to the south. It was hard to get a snow day in New York City. Mount Vernon was almost as difficult. Half the time, the two school systems played a game of chicken, waiting to see who was going to cave into the snow drifts first.

But, if you went to bed and it was snowing, you could dream. And wait for the alert. Oh, sure, there were the radio stations that listed school closings. You'd wait alongside the radio to hear your mom's favorite morning host and hold your breath.

"Rye Country Day School closed. All South Salem schools closed. All White Plains schools closed. Mount Vernon schools will be open."

Shit.

Or whatever expletive I would use when I was a seven-year-old.

In Mount Vernon, there was another snow day alert system in place. If schools were to be closed due to inclement weather, they would sound the loud piercing fire whistle at both 7AM and 8AM. It was terrifying to listen to, but glorious at the same time. It meant that schools were closed for the snow storm. Or we were being bombed by Russia.

If it was confirmed that I was now free for the day, I could leisurely go about my favorite indoor activities. Colorforms. Reading my current book borrowed from the public library. "I Love Lucy" reruns. "The Hollywood Squares." All would be sheer bliss until the expected cry from below. Either from my grandparents or my parents.

"Come help shovel!"

Fuck.

Or whatever expletive I might use as a ten-year-old.

When I countered that I was just a kid and of little help, I'd get a horrible threat thrown right back at me.

"Do you want your father to have a heart attack and die?"

Well, er, no.

I'd go outside and make a feeble attempt at pushing some snow around. 

Eventually, Dad would notice.

"Oh, you're just making a mess. Go in the house."

Done.

Once the clean-up was over, I was free and clear to go play in the snow. If drifts were high enough in the yard, I'd take my dog Tuffy and watch her get lost in the yard. When I got older and graduated from cute little snowmen, we'd focus our time on constructing snow forts from the huge hills plowed by the Sanitation Department in the street. I'd seek out my neighborhood best friend Leo and we'd have ourselves a time defending some Alaskan stronghold from enemy attackers.

Or with the slight slope of 15th Avenue, we'd all commence belly flopping and hit the sleds. You had to be crafty at the bottom of the incline or else you would sled yourself right into busy traffic on First Street. Down there, you'd find some of the more sinister neighborhood urchins engaged in more diabolical winter activities. Throwing iceballs at bus windows whizzing by.

Looking back, I don't think we had more than a handful of these snow days. The one I remember most happened around my birthday in February.  A Sunday night storm that lasted into Monday. We didn't go anywhere for three days. If you lived in Queens where New York Mayor John Lindsay had forgotten that he had snow plows, you didn't leave your block until April.

When I went to college, we absolutely craved the prospect of a crippling snow storm for completely different reasons. Holed up in the co-ed dorms with no classes. Sadly, it never happened during my four years at Fordham. Essentially, the Jesuit-based school administration told us to go to chapel and pray to the Virgin Mary that the snow would melt. As a Protestant, I didn't even bother.  So much for twelve inches of snow and some sex, beer, and rock and roll.

Once you start working for a living, snow stories are no longer anticipated with glee. Because, even with eight inches of the white stuff on the ground, that usually isn't enough to close your office. When I commuted to Manhattan from Westchester, I used to laugh at the folks in the office around me. Those who had to travel the further in the blizzard all made it to work. The Manhattan dwellers, meanwhile, had major problems simply trying to cross the street.

I do recall one blizzard that crippled everybody and closed offices all over New York. Again, it was a perfectly timed storm. On January 8, 1996. It started to snow around 8PM on Sunday and it didn't stop until Tuesday afternoon. The entire metropolitan area came to a screeching halt. 

As for yours truly, I hunkered down in my Westchester apartment and even remembered swimming laps in the pool downstairs. An odd thing to do on one of the worst days of the winter. I subsisted on chicken noodle soup, Taylor Ham sandwiches, and Turner Classic Movies. And ultimately unplugged the phone to stop all the annoying telemarketing calls that come in during the daytime hours.

By Thursday, New York tried to go back to work. The only problem was that Westchester commuters had no way into the city. Metro North had about five trains left that weren't stuck in some Doctor Zhivago-like snow drift. And it was even worse trying to get home. At 5PM, Grand Central Station was so crowded that it looked like Ellis Island in 1912. 

To make a bad night horrific, my train north broke down at the Sputen Duyvil station in the Bronx. We were all cast adrift in some dark neighborhood, each city block more sinister than the next. I had to piece together a route home that included a bus, a subway, and a lot of walking through slushy water. I didn't get home until 9PM. My feet didn't dry until August.

That would be the last major snowstorm I would live through as a New Yorker. I moved to Los Angeles the following year. Now, when I go back East, a few inches of snow are a personal delight. Because I know that I'm not there on a permanent basis. I always know I can go home. Where a predicted 20% percent chance of rain can cripple Beverly Hills.

And send me to the crockpot.

Dinner last night:  Pepperoni pizza at Stella Barra.

Classic Movie Trailer of the Month - January 2018

In theaters forty years ago this month.   Poor Jill Clayburgh...gone too soon.

Dinner last night:  Beer bratwurst and baked potato.

Your Weekend Movie Guide for January 2018

Sadly, another local theater gem is dead.    The wonderful Crest on Westwood Boulevard has a big "for lease" sign on the marquee.   It's already come back from the dead once.   I doubt it can do it again.   I will miss the wonderful interiors with its art deco mural of vintage Hollywood and the shooting star on the theater.   Oddly, the theater plays an important role in "The Disaster Artist."  Hopefully, someone steps forward to save the building and preserves it as a movie theater.

So what's at the local AMC or Cinemark where the job is to move audiences in and out like sheep?   You know the drill, gang.  I will sift through the LA Times movie pages and give you my knee jerk reaction to what's annoying us at the multiplex.

If you can, though, please patronize your local neighborhood theater this weekend.   You never know how long they will last.

Jumanji - Welcome to the Jungle:   Wondering out loud if any millennials have named their babies "Jumanji."

Paddington 2:  Likely unbearable.

Insidious - The Last Key:  I never saw "Insidious - The First Key."

The Post:  Blog review coming.  All the news that's fit to print.

The Commuter:  The annual January action thriller from Liam Neeson that are always surprisingly entertaining.  This one is allegedly set on my old train line, Metro North Hudson division.  I bet a blog review is coming.

The Greatest Showman:  Blog review coming.   Boy, that Hugh Jackman sure is talented.

Star Wars - The Last Jedi:  Boy, did Carrie Fisher's death screw up their plot.

Proud Mary:  Keep on burning...the film, that is.

Last Call Pitches:   I saw the first installment of the Pitch Perfect franchise.   I thought it was cute but there was no place to go with the plot.  Naturally, they made two more.

Darkest Hour:  Blog review coming.   Great performance by Gary Oldman as Winston Churchill, but, let's face it, he had a lot to work with.

Molly's Game:   Aaron Sorkin now writes and directs.   This is your first warning.

Ferdinand:   Bull-shit.

Coco:  It's official.   Pixar now completely bores me.

Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri:   I have a sense Frances McDormand has another Oscar coming.

The Shape of Water:  The year's bi-polar movie.   I know people who loved it.  I know people who detested it.

I, Tonya:  Blog review coming.  Who knew two hours with stupid and detestable people could be so much fun?

All the Money in the World:   I hear it's not very good but it would be interesting to see only because they had to do some Kevin Spacey-less reshooting four weeks before it opened.   

Wonder:   Of the four 2017 movies with "Wonder" in the title, this one was the best.

Call Me By Your Name:  A good concept totally sabotaged by some Kevin Spacey-like optics.   

The Disaster Artist:   Reviewed here just the other day.  Totally enjoyable.   I thought this would get James Franco an Oscar nomination...now, not so much.

Downsizing:  Horrible buzz to "Honey, I Shrunk the Adults."

Thor - Ragnarok:  Whoever...

Phantom Thread:   The movie from 2017 most likely to cure insomnia.

Den of Thieves:   Either Congress or CNN.

Forever My Girl:   Sounds like it escaped from the Hallmark Channel.

Mom and Dad:   The parents are Nicolas Cage and Selma Blair.   What must the kids look like?

Small Town Crime:   Andy and Barney must be on vacation.

The Final Year:   A documentary on Obama's last year in office.   Watch as he walks on water and turns water into wine.

Delirium:   I think you take that when you've got the flu.

Kangaroo:   A documentary on...you guessed it.

12 Strong:  About the first US troops into Iran after 9/11.   Well, somebody had to go first.

The Road Movie:  Nope, not Hope, Crosby, and Lamour.   It's actually a documentary about Russian dashboard cams.   Collusion there, too, I guess.

Dinner last night:  Chicken lettuce wraps left over from lunch.