This Date in History - February 28

Happy birthday to Gavin MacLeod...one of those lucky stiffs that wound up on three different long-running TV series.

202 BC:  LIU BANG IS ENTHRONED AS THE EMPEROR OF CHINA, BEGINNING FOUR CENTURIES OF RULE BY THE HAN DYNASTY.

Included only because it contains the word "bang."

870:  THE FOURTH COUNCIL OF CONSTANTINOPLE CLOSES.

All boring things must come to an end.

1638:  THE SCOTTISH NATIONAL COVENANT IS SIGNED IN EDINBURGH.

Get those kilts out of the dry cleaners.

1700:  TODAY IS FOLLOWED BY MARCH 1 IN SWEDEN, THUS CREATING THE SWEDISH CALENDAR.

So Swedes born in a leap year don't exist?

1827:  THE BALTIMORE AND OHIO RAILROAD IS INCORPORATED, BECOMING THE FIRST RAILROAD IN AMERICA OFFERING COMMERCIAL TRANSPORTATION OF BOTH PEOPLE AND FREIGHT.

The Uber of the 19th Century.

1844:  A GUN ON USS PRINCETON EXPLODES WHILE THE BOAT IS ON A POTOMAC RIVER CRUISE, KILLING SIX PEOPLE, INCLUDING TWO US CABINET MEMBERS.

Well, that's one way to drain the swamp.

1849:  REGULAR STEAMBOAT SERVICE FROM THE WEST TO THE EAST COAST OF THE US BEGINS WITH THE ARRIVAL OF THE SS CALIFORNIA IN SAN FRANCISCO BAY, FOUR MONTHS 22 DAYS AFTER LEAVING NEW YORK HARBOR.

Now that's a long episode of "The Love Boat."   See how I tied in our birthday boy today.

1867:  SEVENTY YEARS OF HOLY SEE-US RELATIONS ARE ENDED BY A CONGRESSIONAL BAN ON FEDERAL FUNDING OF DIPLOMATIC ENVOYS TO THE VATICAN AND ARE NOT RESTORED UNTIL JANUARY 10, 1984.

Somehow they're blaming this on Trump.

1885:  THE AMERICAN TELEPHONE AND TELEGRAPH COMPANY IS INCORPORATED IN NY AS AMERICAN BELL TELEPHONE.

Oh, ATT.   I get it.

1903:  FILM DIRECTOR VINCENTE MINNELLI IS BORN.

One of several gay guys marred to Judy Garland.

1906:  GANGSTER BUGSY SIEGEL IS BORN.

Las Vegas, you're coming soon.

1915:  ACTOR ZERO MOSTEL IS BORN.

I wonder if his siblings were named One and Two.

1922:  THE UNITED KINGDOM ENDS ITS PROTECTORATE OVER EGYPT.

Now that's a big word.

1931:  ACTOR GAVIN MACLEOD IS BORN.

And the good thing is his last role allowed him to wear a hat over his bald head.

1933:  THE REICHSTAG FIRE DECREE IS PASSED IN GERMANY A DAY AFTER THE REICHSTAG FIRE.

Horse.   Barn door.

1935:  DUPONT SCIENTIST WALLACE CAROTHERS INVENTS NYLON.

What were stockings made of before this?

1939:  THE ERRONEOUS WORD "DORD" IS DISCOVERED IN THE WEBSTER'S NEW INTERNATIONAL DICTIONARY SECOND EDITION, PROMPTING AN INVESTIGATION.

So it's not a legit word on Scrabble?

1939:  DANCER TOMMY TUNE IS BORN.

Five foot one at birth.

1940:  BASKETBALL IS TELEVISED FOR THE FIRST TIME WITH A MADISON SQUARE GARDEN GAME BETWEEN THE UNIVERSITY OF PITTSBURGH AND FORDHAM.

The latter is my alma mater.   Which means they probably lost.

1948:  BROADWAY STAR BERNADETTE PETERS IS BORN.

Trivia fact: she once dated Steve Martin.

1953:  JAMES WATSON AND FRANCIS CRICK ANNOUNCE TO FRIENDS THAT THEY HAVE DETERMINED THE CHEMICAL STRUCTURE OF DNA.

And, as a result, people are spitting into a cup 65 years later.

1954:  THE FIRST COLOR TVS ARE OFFERED FOR SALE TO THE GENERAL PUBLIC.

My grandmother never ever bought one.   She stuck to black and white.

1955:  COMIC GILBERT GOTTFRIED IS BORN.

An amazingly normal guy despite the fact he is a fearless comedian who tells the dirtiest jokes imaginable.

1958:  A SCHOOL BUS IN KENTUCKY HITS A WRECKER TRUCK AND PLUNGES DOWN INTO A RIVER.   THE DRIVER AND 26 CHILDREN DIE IN WHAT REMAINS ONE OF THE WORST SCHOOL BUS ACCIDENTS IN US HISTORY.

So where's the hue and cry to outlaw school buses?

1975:  IN LONDON, AN UNDERGROUND TRAIN FAILS TO STOP AT MOORGATE STATION AND CRASHES INTO A TUNNEL, KILLING 43 PEOPLE.

Obviously it was not a local.

1977:  ACTOR EDDIE "ROCHESTER" ANDERSON DIES.

Mr. Benny!

1978:  ACTRESS ZARA CULLY DIES.

Mother Jefferson.

1983:  THE FINAL EPISODE OF "M*A*S*H*" AIRS WITH ALMOST 106 MILLION VIEWERS.  IT STILL HOLDS THE RECORD FOR THE HIGHEST VIEWERSHIP OF A SEASON FINALE.

A good friend of mine co-wrote this.   

1991:  THE FIRST GULF WAR ENDS.

When was the second?

1993:  THE BUREAU OF ALCOHOL, TOBACCO, AND FIREARMS AGENTS RAID THE BRANCH DAVIDIAN CHURCH IN WACO, TEXAS WITH A WARRANT TO ARREST THE GROUP'S LEADER DAVID KORECH.  FOUR ATF AGENTS AND SIX DAVIDIANS DIE IN THE INITIAL RAID.

So the ATF won?

1993:  ACTRESS RUBY KEELER DIES.

She was all tapped out.

2004:  OVER ONE MILLION TAIWANESE PARTICIPATING IN THE HAND-IN-HAND RALLY FORM A 310 MILE LONG HUMAN CHAIN.

That's an awful lot of hand sanitizer.

2009:  RADIO BROADCASTER PAUL HARVEY DIES.

That really is the end of the story.

2011:  ACTRESS JANE RUSSELL DIES.

I once went to lunch with her.   Really.

2012:  FILM PRODUCER HAL ROACH DIES.

He actually outlived most of the Little Rascals.

2013:  POPE BENEDICT XVI RESIGNS AS THE POPE OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH, BECOMING THE FIRST POPE TO DO SO SINCE 1415.

I'm dying to read the exit interview.

2016:  ACTOR GEORGE KENNEDY DIES.

Now it's really a failure to communicate.

2018:  WITH TODAY'S DATE IN HISTORY, I HAVE OFFICIALLY DONE THIS BLOG ENTRY FOR EVERY SINGLE POSSIBLE DATE ON THE CALENDAR.

But the Wednesday feature will continue and include updates and more recent celebrity deaths.  History never stops.

Dinner last night:   Ribeye steak at Lawry's.

The Best Picture of the Year?

It's Oscar time and all the frenzy has started.   I'll be showing you my picks for award winners later on as I give you a definitive leg up for your office pool.   I used to love the event back in the day.   I even remember my third grade teacher, Mrs. Popper, giving us the homework assignment of actually watching the Oscar broadcast.

These days, it's torture to watch as self-conscious Hollywood uses the occasion to choke some movies down our collective throats.   See this because it's good for you.   A virtual cinematic medicine cabinet.   Who cares whether or not the film is actually entertaining?   No longer a factor.   The movie is about some social condition.   You must watch it if you know what's good for you!

Puh-leze.

Now let's focus on the Best Picture Oscar.   I'm less impressed these days with those films that grab the Big Kahuna of all awards, especially after last year where it was painfully obvious that the voting process is rigged.   I had been told by somebody who would know that the leading vote getter doesn't always get the award.  It seems there's a blue ribbon panel that reviews the results and does have the power to negate them if they so choose.   I am convinced this happened last year with the win by "Moonlight."   And, as Hollywood gets more and more concerned with making us take our cinematic castor oil, I am betting this will happen again and again.

It used to be so different.   Let's take a look at the year 1939, which historians say was the very best 12 month period for American movies.   The big winner was "Gone with the Wind" and it is pictured above.   But take a gander at the other nine nominated films that year.

Dark Victory.

Goodbye, Mr. Chips.

Love Affair.

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.

Ninotchka.

Of Mice and Men.

Stagecoach.

The Wizard of Oz.

Wuthering Heights.

All great movies spanning a variety of subjects.   The bottom line?   All were super entertaining and that's why people went to the theaters in droves to see them.   Because they were pure escapism even with the chance that some of them had a point to make about life in America.

Now let's look at the nine Best Picture nominees from 2018.   In its fear of offending some race or gender, this might be the most pretentious list of Oscar film hopefuls ever.   It certainly is one of the worst in my humble opinion because, frankly, the goal of entertaining has been replaced by a meat tenderizer to our heads.  Your enjoyment is not the number one priority. Instead, there is an agenda that we need you to adopt ASAP.   

Let's dissect the nominees and I'll show you what I'm talking about.

Call Me By Your Name:   In checking the boxes Hollywood needs to address, this is the official nominee for the LGBTQ cause.   Now don't get me wrong.  I have no issue with the subject matter of a young 17-year-old boy coming to grips with his sexuality and his relationship with a 24-year-old college grad.   But the major problem with this film comes in the bonehead casting.   Timothee Chalamet doesn't look 17.   As a matter of fact, he looks younger.   Meanwhile, Armie Hammer as the 24-year-old looks more like the 31 years that Hammer really is.   These are the kinds of optics that got Kevin Spacey a one-way ticket to oblivion.   How dumb can Hollywood get?

Darkest Hour:  There's really nothing wrong with this movie about Winston Churchill's first days leading England through WW II.   Much has been made about Gary Oldman's performance but, for my money, John Lithgow was a much better Churchill in Season 1 of "The Crown."  The problem with this one was its repetitive qualities.  The same rousing speech is made 15 times.   I could have sufficed listening to it just ten times.   Of course, the idiots of Tinseltown have elevated the movie to grandiose proportions by marketing it as a way for audiences to see what a true national leader should be like.   Hmmm, can these morons go a single day without thinking about Trump?

Dunkirk:  An out-and-out mess by director Christopher Nolan who couldn't direct traffic in the middle of the Gobi Desert at midnight.   Sloppy storytelling and you can't tell one young soldier from another.   Hollywood is dying to give him an Oscar for some inexplicable reason.   So they rarely let an opportunity go by when they can nominate him or one of his movies for something.

Get Out:   The Academy manages to cover the requisite Black Lives Matter initiative by nominating this overblown, overwritten, and overhyped horror movie.   But, because it is helmed by a Black director and features a plot where all White people are evil and all African-Americans are noble, this film is considered a cure for all ills.   It's really nothing more than "The Stepford Wives Go to Harlem."  How dumb is this movie?   One of the heroes is an intelligent TSA agent.   Okay, that in itself is pure science-fiction.

Lady Bird:  The empowerment of women box is checked with this film which I actually liked.   Indeed, it is one of three nominees here that I personally think belongs in the Best Picture category.   It was entertaining and, for that reason alone, it merits attention in a self-conscious Hollywood.   In most years, it would win Best Picture.   But not when you have other more important hashtags and pressure groups that need to be accommodated.

Phantom Thread:  There's always one nominated picture every year that gets the nod because Hollywood A) didn't understand it or B) collectively slept through it.   Well, for me, both A) and B) are valid.   ZZZZZzzzz.   And, for the parts I was awake...HUH????

The Post:  The much belabored news media must be acknowledged and "The Post" serves its purpose here.   Freedom of the press, rah rah.   A pretty entertaining movie but Hollywood, of course, is using this to wage a war that really doesn't exist.   Because journalism in 1972 is way different than the journalism of 2018.   Wait, there is no such thing as journalism in 2018.   My mistake.

The Shape of Water:  Here Hollywood checks the Hispanic box with a movie directed by the overrated and often incoherent Guillermo Del Toro.   Of all the nominated films, this one might be the most ridiculous one of all.  Naturally, it is a front runner to win it all.   The plot is completely silly and ludicrous with everything shot with this Kermit the Frog green tint.  The scene where the deaf ugly girl floods a bathroom so she can have sex with a sea monster under water defies all logic and physics.   Del Toro is another asshole Hollywood is dying to honor.   I mean, they love Mexicans and immigrants so.   After all, the same folks are mowing their lawns and cleaning their pools.

Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri:  If Len had an Academy ballot, this would be the one that got my vote.   An interesting story with great acting and direction.  It held my attention all the way through.

So how the hell did it get nominated in the first place?   It belongs back in the year 1939.

Dinner last night:  Leftover lasagna.

Monday Morning Video Laugh - February 26, 2018

A quick giggle this Monday morning.

Dinner last night:  Lasagna.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - The Maternal War Zone

While I'm still in the process of thinking about my ancestry, let's take another snapshot of relatives I actually knew.   In this case, my mother and her mother-in-law, better known as Grandma.

There's a famous cartoon featuring Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, and Elmer Fudd.  Bugs and Daffy argue over who should get shot by Elmer.

"It's rabbit season."

"It's duck season."

"Rabbit season."

"Duck season."

"Rabbit season!"

"Duck season!"

That's kind of what it was like between the two women in my life when I was a kid.

You see the three of us in the photo above and everybody looks reasonably happy.  Well, you can't really discern my mood since I couldn't bother facing my dad's Argus Technicolor camera.  But Mom and Grandma, at some family gathering, appear to be enjoying themselves.

This had to be taken with a fast lens.  These moments were infrequent.

Admittedly, they were both in a no win situation.  Let's face it, we lived together in the same house owned by my grandparents.  Grandma and Grandpa lived downstairs.  We were in the apartment upstairs.  Such close proximity is never easy.  Just ask North and South Korea.  

Or any two women forced to live together for familial purposes.

And the two of them weren't shy about sharing their "opinions" about each other.  

With me.

"Your grandmother can be so cheap sometimes."

"Your mother flies off the handle too quickly."

"Grandma needs to keep her comments to herself."

"Your mother needs to keep her comments to herself."

"She's a pain in my ass."

"She's a pain in my ass."

Indeed, in later years, I would learn that most of my mother's ill feelings were a result of how she felt my grandmother treated my father.  Mom seemed to think that Grandma favored his other two living brothers over him.  I never noticed this, but my mother, for some reason, thought this slight was real.  Years later, I would ask her why she simply didn't discuss this with Grandma.  Of course, I got the obvious response when subjects needed to change.

"Oh, every family was like that."

Maybe they were.  But we could have enjoyed a more peaceful holiday dining room had there been a little bit more detente.

Take, for instance, one delightful scene I witnessed on Thanksgiving.  The big family dinner was being held in our house.  And this necessitated my mother and grandmother uncomfortably sharing the cooking chores.  In Grandma's kitchen, no less.  I was parked on the kitchen stool, doing my best to stay out of the way.  And you could tell there was going to be some cannon fire.    Grandma was being particularly bossy this morning.

"Pat, stir the potatoes."

"Pat, don't put too much butter on the string beans."

"Pat, the gravy's getting lumpy."

I could see my mother's temperature boil.  Like one of those cartoon thermometers where all the mercury shoots out of the top.  Grandma was standing at the stove with her back to my mom.  My mother picked up one of those Pillsbury bread rolls and raised it over my grandmother's head.

I gasped.  Mom is going to whack Grandma in the head and kill her.

Of course, she didn't.  But the emotion was there.  And, maybe for a split second, so was the intent.

The most predominant battle between my mother and grandmother always came during the wintertime.  Over a simple item that has provoked fights between landlords and tenants down through the years.

The heat.

My mother upstairs was always cold.  And, since the thermostat for the whole house was in my grandmother's toasty living room downstairs, temperature control in my house was always another world war.

"Go down and tell your grandmother to send up some heat."

I would traipse down the stairs and relay the message to Grandma.

"The thermostat is on 72.  It's fine."

Back upstairs.

Minutes later, my mother would pull out her own thermometer and show me the reading.

"It's 66 up here!!!"

Back downstairs with the revised information.

"Okay, okay, I'll put it up to 75.  Jesus crimsey."

Not Christ.  Crimsey.

Eventually, you would hear the radiators kick in.   And another volcanic eruption was narrowly averted.

This went out like a perfected vaudeville routine for years.  Every single winter.  You would think that eventually both women would come to basic realizations.  It was a big house.  There were doors that separated the portions of the home and that prevented the thermostat from working accurately.

But, no.  

Things did change, though.  They had to.  I remember this as if it happened yesterday.  My grandfather had died earlier in the day.  I've told the story here before.  I was home sick from school.  Grandpa had slumped back in his favorite chair.  Grandma called me to get my mother who had just gone around the corner to do some grocery shopping.  Mom came home and coordinated all of the activity from the paramedics, etc..  Me?  I hid in the bathroom with my dog.

Long after all the relatives and firemen and undertakers had vacated the premises later that night, I went to bed.  But popped up an hour later when I heard my mother and father talking quietly in the kitchen.  I had come to know that, even though they didn't speak much in front of me, late nights in the kitchen were their moments of joint compassion and tenderness.  I eavesdropped as my mother consoled my father about Grandpa.  My father's brother had taken my grandmother to their home upstate for the evening, simply to give her a change of scenery on this life-altering day for her.

Suddenly, my mother broached a topic with my dad.  What happens if Grandma decides to go live with them permanently?  She may want to sell the house now.  We'd be out on our ass.

My father had a Henry Kissinger-like thought.

"Maybe you could start being nice to her."

There was a pause before my mother offered a soft response.

"Okay."

And pretty much she was.

Flash forward to almost two decades later.  Grandma has died at the age of 90.  My parents had long since divorced.  There would be one day of funeral parlor viewing.  My mother asked my father if she could come before the wake to pay her respects.  She wanted to be there when no one else was.

My dad and I met her at the funeral parlor and Mom saw Grandma for the last time.

"I always liked her."

I was now an adult and always looking to provoke some fun into any proceedings.  I turned to my mother with a quizzical look.

Really?  I reminded her playfully that, on one Thanksgiving, I saw her raise a Pillsbury bread dough roll and contemplate a swing at Grandma's head.   

My mother didn't know I saw that.  She smiled.

"Oh, that happens in every family."

Dinner last night:  Chicken McNuggets, of all things.

Classic Movie Trailer of the Month - February 2018

This movie franchise started fifty years ago this month.

Dinner last night:  Roast beef dinner.

Liquor For Sale

Dinner last night:  Sandwich.

Len's Recipe of the Month - February 2018

This succotash ain't sufferin'.  As a matter of fact, it's living comfortably as a wonderful salad/side dish on my dining room table.   You looking for something tasty with lots of cooperating flavors and healthy as well?   Look no further than yet another culinary gem I have stolen from Valerie Bertinelli to call my own.

And the best thing is that this keeps nicely for days in the refrigerator.   Here's how you proceed:

Boil some salted water in a pot and add a 12-16 ounce of frozen lima beans.   Let this go for about 15-20 minutes.

In the meantime, slice or dice an onion.  Saute it in some EVO until the pieces are golden.  Then let it cool.

To your favorite salad mixer bottle (I use a Mason jar), combine the following:

2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar.

3 tablespoons chopped parsley.

1 teaspoon chopped sage.
1/8 teaspoon grated nutmeg.

1/2 teaspoon salt.

1/4 teaspoon black pepper.

3 tablespoons EVO.

Shake well and set aside.

The beans must be tender by now so add in a 12-16 ounce bag of frozen corn. Let these two simmer for five minutes or so.  Remove from the heat and rinse thoroughly with cold water.   Let this concoction cool as well.

In a large bowl, add some tomatoes.   Valerie chops some fresh plum tomatoes.  Me?   A can of diced tomatoes from Hunt's works well.  Drain the liquid and put the tomatoes in the bowl.   Add the onion pieces.   Add the beans and corn.  Pour in your dressing and let it cool in the fridge.

You're welcome.

Dinner last night:  Steak salad.

This Date in History - February 21

Happy birthday to C-3PO.  Well, sort of.   Meanwhile, February 21 is a very slow day when it comes to celebrity deaths.   Spoiler alert: there are none.

1245:  THOMAS, THE FIRST KNOWN BISHOP OF FINLAND, IS GRANTED RESIGNATION AFTER CONFESSING TO TORTURE AND FORGERY.

This is what half of the country hopes is in the future for Donald Trump.

1437:  JAMES I OF SCOTLAND IS ASSASSINATED.

When mere resignation is just not enough.

1440:  THE PRUSSIAN CONFEDERATION IS FORMED.

Yay, if you're a Prussian.

1613:  MIKHAIL I IS UNANIMOUSLY ELECTED TSAR , BEGINNING THE ROMANOV DYNASTY OF IMPERIAL RUSSIA.

Yay, if you're Mikhail I.

1804:  THE FIRST SELF-PROPELLING STEAM LOCOMOTIVE MAKES ITS FIRST OUTING IN WALES.

Come ride the little train that is rolling down the track at the junction....

1828:  INITIAL ISSUE OF THE CHEROKEE PHOENIX IS THE FIRST PERIODICAL TO USE THE CHEROKEE SYLLABARY INVENTED BY SEQUOYAH.

Heap big deal.

1842:  JOHN GREENOUGH IS GRANTED THE FIRST US PATENT FOR THE SEWING MACHINE.

Must have had a rip in his pants.

1848:  KARL MARX AND FRIEDRICH ENGELS PUBLISH THE COMMUNIST MANIFESTO.

As opposed to Chico Marx and Marty Ingels.

1874:  THE OAKLAND DAILY TRIBUNE PUBLISHES ITS FIRST EDITION.

That's a newspaper for those of you who forgot.

1878:  THE FIRST TELEPHONE DIRECTORY IS ISSUED IN CONNECTICUT.

That's how people used to find phone numbers for those of you who forgot.

1885:  THE NEWLY COMPLETED WASHINGTON MONUMENT IS DEDICATED.

Commemorative paper weights to follow.

1918:  THE LAST CAROLINA PARAKEET DIES IN CAPTIVITY AT THE CINCINNATI ZOO.

Parakeets don't live long.  I know.  I had one when I was a kid.

1925:  THE NEW YORKER PUBLISHES ITS FIRST ISSUE.

And who was the first dentist to have it in the waiting room?

1925:  FILM DIRECTOR SAM PECKINPAH IS BORN.

The Wild Bunch!

1927:  AUTHOR ERMA BOMBECK IS BORN.

Some people loved her books.   So there's that.

1933:  SINGER NINA SIMONE IS BORN.

I saw a documentary about her and she was clearly nuts.

1934:  ACTRESS RUE MCCLANAHAN IS BORN.

The Golden Girl.  I met her once.

1937:  THE LEAGUE OF NATIONS BANS FOREIGN NATIONAL VOLUNTEERS IN THE SPANISH CIVIL WAR.

By the way, is there ever anything civil about war?

1945:  WORLD WAR II - DURING THE BATTLE OF IWO JIMA, JAPANESE KAMIKAZE PLANES SINK THE ESCORT CARRIER USS BISMARCK SEA AND DAMAGE THE USS SARATOGA.

Not the Bismarck that was sunk in the song.   That was another one.

1946:  ACTOR ANTHONY DANIELS IS BORN.

Behind all that gold armor, does any know what he looks like?

1946:  ACTOR ALAN RICKMAN IS BORN.

And died 70 years later...way too soon.

1947:  IN NEW YORK CITY, EDWIN LAND DEMONSTRATES THE FIRST 'INSTANT CAMERA," THE POLAROID LAND CAMERA, TO A MEETING OF THE OPTICAL SOCIETY OF AMERICA.

Waiting two minutes for your photo to be developed.

1948:  NASCAR IS INCORPORATED.

V-room.

1952:  THE BRITISH GOVERNMENT, UNDER WINSTON CHURCHILL, ABOLISHES IDENTITY CARDS IN THE UK TO SET THE PEOPLE FREE.

Free from what?  More information please.

1955:  ACTOR KELSEY GRAMMER IS BORN.

This is Frasier Crane.   I'm listening.

1965:  MALCOLM X IS ASSASSINATED AT THE AUDUBON BALLROOM IN NEW YORK CITY.

If he was ever on "What's My Line?," would he sign in as "Mr. X?"

1972:  US PRESIDENT RICHARD NIXON VISITS THE PEOPLE'S REPUBLIC OF CHINA TO NORMALIZE SINO-AMERICAN RELATIONS.

Were Sino-American relations ever abnormal?

1975:  WATERGATE - FORMER US ATTORNEY GENERAL JOHN MITCHELL AND FORMER WHITE HOUSE AIDES HR HALDEMAN AND JOHN EHRLICHMAN ARE SENTENCED TO PRISON.

Like 5000 lawyers on the bottom of the ocean...a good start.

1995:  STEVE FOSSETT LANDS IN CANADA BECOMING THE FIRST PERSON TO MAKE A SOLO FLIGHT ACROSS THE PACIFIC OCEAN IN A BALLOON.

Except he was trying to land in San Diego.

Dinner last night:  Leftover roast beef and veggies.

Water Really Is Shapeless

I thank my lucky stars that I have some friends who are SAG members and are nice enough to lend their annual screeners.   That way, I don't spend seventeen dollars to see junk like "The Shape of Water."  As inexplicable as the title is, so, too, is the film which is as pointless as water is shapeless.

You couldn't tell by the critical reviews of this Guillermo Del Toro garbage dump.   Movie critics are lauding this film as a work of art.   A sheer masterpiece.   Watch it twice and all illnesses will be healed, praise Jesus.  Okay, I will admit that it often is interesting to look at.   But so is the daily Amtrak derailment.  The whole movie has this greenish tint, which I guess was done on purpose.   To me, it appeared like it was all shot through a bowl of lime Jell-o.

The plot of "The Shape of Water" is utterly ridiculous.  Remember "The Creature from the Black Lagoon?"  Well, mix in a little of "The Artist" and you've got what amounts to a poor two-hour excuse to buy a box of Goobers.  

So you've got the professional cinematic villain Michael Shannon bringing back some thing he caught down in South America to a Baltimore lab.  Why Baltimore?   Why not?   Well, anyway, in said lab, there are a couple of cleaning ladies at night played by Sally Hawkins and the always annoying Octavia Spencer who literally plays her character like she is a slave on a Southern plantation circa 1856.  Hawkins plays a lonely deaf woman who subsists on hard boiled eggs which she ultimately uses to befriend the scaly creature.

And that is it.  This is, of course, a forbidden romance and you just know that Shannon will be beating the shit out of somebody by the end of the picture.  Meanwhile, there is one set piece where Hawkins' character, now hopelessly in love with the monster, imagines the two of them dancing in black and white like Fred and Ginger in "Swing Time."  Hello?  Anybody?

If the whole thing hasn't collapsed for you yet, wait till you see the scene where she floods her bathroom to the ceiling so she and the creature can have sex under water.   Paging the logic police and any physicist who will explain that the weight of water would destroy the entire apartment building.  Water has shape and also is very, very heavy, gang.

Want to know the most ridiculous news yet?  This thing grabbed 13 Oscar nominations and is apparently one of the two front runners for Best Picture?  I can only assume that, besides the flu, all of Hollywood has become afflicted with acute glaucoma.

If you must, find a SAG member and only see this for free.   Better yet, don't bother at all.

LEN'S RATING:  One-and-a-half stars.

Dinner last night:  Roast beef with potatoes and onions.

Monday Morning Video Laugh - February 19, 2018

On this blog, there is always time for funny moments from TV's "Wipeout."

Dinner last night:  Had a big lunch so just a sandwich.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - Ungeschickt

As regular readers are aware, I have been lamenting my lack of information on my mother's side of my DNA.   Spitting into a vial didn't help.  So I thought it apropos this week to focus on the paternal end of the DNA register.   My father's parents.   You see me in the photo above with Grandma.  My hand is up a Popeye puppet.   Ah, sweet memories.

You might be wondering what that bizarre word is at the top of today's post.   It is the German word for "clumsy" and I know it well.   That's what my grandmother called me all the time.   To this day, the name fits.

Okay, my dad's parents.  My recent flurry of ancestral research tells me when they showed up at this Trumpwall-less country.   Grandpa arrived from Europe on the Kaiser Wilhelm ship on March 23, 1904.   This is noteworthy for two reasons.  His birthday was March 22.   And, years later, he would die on March 23.

For some reason, I always thought they arrived here together.  I guess not and now I am wondering if they actually met in America.  Grandma arrived on Ellis Island on May 22, 1907.  Later census reports listed their birthplaces ranging from Russia to Poland to Germany.  To Tinkers to Evers to Chance.  

Grandma used to tell me that she grew up on a farmland in Germany.  The dialect she spoke was called "plattdeutsch."  My research shows me this was a common variation of the language and primarily found in the northern regions of the country.  Where precisely?  No clue.

Now, all these folks landed smack in the middle of the Bronx.  A two mile radius around White Plains Road and 225th Street.  The centerpiece of their lives?  The Lutheran church they helped to build on 219th Street.  It's still there, but I am guessing the primary language spoken at St. Peter's is now Spanish.  But, the German inscription still rests on top of the front door.

Translated, I think it means "God is here."  So, essentially, my family had carried over their German farming village landscape to the Bronx.  In Europe, church is a central spot in any village.  So, too, would it be in the new world, even if said village was the Bronx.

I heard German spoken all the years I was growing up.  My father never did speak it, but I always got the impression that he understood it.  When he would listen to the Saturday night polka party on the radio while eating his Saturday night kielbasie, Dad seemed to understand what was being said.  I sure didn't.

Downstairs, Grandma and Grandpa talked to each other in German all the time.  I could pick up a word here or there, but basically waited to hear somebody's name intermingled throughout. This would be the key to me about who in the family they were gossiping about. 

When their friends would come over for weekend night Pinochile parties, the kitchen downstairs would sound like a Munich beer hall.  I'd listen at the foot of the hallway stairs, clamoring to hear anything that remotely sounded interesting.  I was captivated by their conversations, even though I didn't comprehend a single word.  I was that desperate for information that never ultimately came.

Along with the aforementioned "ungeschickt," there were two other words that I eventually came to understand, mainly because they were always directed at me by Grandma.

Slobberhans. 

I don't know what it means, but I sure sounds like me.  I got this description if I was particularly messy.

Lopchook. 

Yeah, that was occasionally me as well.   I think it translates to "schlump" or "schlmiel."  An oaf.  Were they real words or conjured up by my grandmother?  As always....

No clue.

I've written here before about my grandmother's sister-in-law.  When they were both widows, they tended to cling to each other as the number of folks around who spoke German dwindled.  These two could go on for hours with dialogue that was completely alien to me.

Now,  Tante Emma and Grandma had a pretty set routine. On Sunday afternoon, after Grandma's dinner dishes had been cleared, the front door bell would ring. Our dog would bark. We would look at the clock. It was exactly 1PM. This could only mean one thing.

Tante Emma had come to call.

Back in the day this is what people did. They went to visit each other on Sunday afternoons. And the opening dialogue between the two would always be the same. Like Abbott and Costello's "Who's On First?" routine, the lines were repeated.  Always in English, thank goodness.

"How are you feeling?"

"With my fingers."

Or...

"What's new with you?"

"New York and New Jersey."

Or...

"You still kicking?"

"Yeah, bend over. I'll show you."

There were weeks where Tante Emma got the punchline and other weeks where Grandma got to button the joke. But, the lines never varied.

As soon as the opening routine was concluded, they would be off to the races with the German language.  And I'd be lost all over again.

So, just how German did we eat?  Not much.  You would think our home would have been filled with the succulent aromas of wienerschnitzel and sauerbraten cooking on the stove.  Er, no.  I don't remember either dish showing up on our dinner tables.

There was one concoction, however, that did make regular appearances.  I think my grandmother called it "creasel."  Weasel with a "k" sound. If I recall correctly, it was really fried globs of some sort of dough, mixed up with bacon and onions.  Horrible for your arteries, but it tasted so good.  I have tried to find out more about this dish and I asked the German woman who runs a sausage store here in Los Angeles.

"Creasel?  Never heard of it."

I was not surprised.  She did say people in the farm country of Germany used to make up their own meals depending upon what they had on hand.  All a function of being poor.

Got it.

The only other German food connnection in our home was my father's weekly Saturday sojourn to Klemm's Pork Store in the Bronx.  We were loaded up with cold cuts and nitrates for the week.  But, most of the meats were really not German in heritage.  The one exception was a favorite of mine.  Cervelat salami.

Along with my beloved Taylor Ham, I would bring this on sandwiches to school.  Sitting in the cafeteria, I'd be gleefully munching on my lunch and somebody would ask me what I was eating.  I'd reply "cervelat."

"Huh?"

Excuse me, but not every cold cut is made in Chicago by Oscar Mayer.  The great thing is that the aforementioned Los Angeles sausage store sells it and I usually grab a half-pound of the salami once a month.

I've often wondered about the emotions of my grandparents during World War II.  We were at war with the country they came from.  How conflicted could they have been?  To make matters worse, they had all four sons in military uniform.  One didn't make it back from the war front.  That had to be complicated for the family.

Of course, they never really said.

There was one afternoon many years later where I did get a glimpse behind that psychological curtain.  During one of those rainy Sunday afternoons in front of the television.  Grandma and I were watching the classic "Mrs. Miniver" starring Greer Garson.

In the film, there's a scene where Mrs. Miniver shows compassion for a young German soldier lost in the wilds of London after his bomber plane crashes.    He was portrayed as a fanatic.  Ultimately, he is disarmed by Mrs. Miniver and brought to the police.

My grandmother begged to differ.

"Not all those boys were like that."

She was so incensed that she got up from her chair and turned off the television, mid-movie.

Okay, I see.  There is still a little pride in the homeland.  As it should be.

And I felt that in an even more pronounced way on one excursion with my grandparents to Woolworth's on Fourth Avenue in Mount Vernon, New York.  I've told the tale before, but it warrants repeating here.

I was young and in tow as my grandparents were picking up some odds and ends at the beloved "five and ten," where you really couldn't buy anything for a nickel and a dime.  Grandma and Grandpa were going up and down the aisles and, as was their routine, yakking to each other in German.

I decided to join in.

"Ich ich ich ich guten ich ich ich."

I started to mimic their conversation as if I were a part of it.  Speaking in my completely made-up-seven-year-old version of German.

"Garble, mutter, mutter, garble, ich, mumble, garble, ich, mumble."

I probably sounded like Adolf Hitler in his crib.

My grandmother asked me once to stop it. I was a kid and had to adhere to the strict rules governing my age group. I didn't listen.

"Garble, mutter, mutter, ich, garble, garble, ich, mutter, mutter." On and on and on and on.

Somewhere around Toiletries, she had enough. To this day, when somebody uses the expression "hauled off and slapped," I remember my grandmother.

CRACK!

I didn't cry. The shock of it all just numbed me. I didn't say another word the rest of the day. In any language whatsoever. Just thinking about it all again makes me rub my cheek. It still feels warm.

Yep, my grandparents took their heritage very seriously.

Oddly, when I recently did my DNA spit take, the German portion only popped to about 17 percent.   Given all of the above, that is super surprising.   But, of course, you do realize that I was always a little "ungeschickt."

Dinner last night:  Chinese beef and shrimp.