Classic Musical Comedy Production Number of the Month - August 2019

Woot woot!  A five Saturday month means we get to sample a great production number from a classic musical comedy.  "Bells Are Ringing" is the very first movie I saw at Radio City Music Hall.

Dinner last night:  Filet of beef and potato salad.

The Last of the Summer Vacation Photos From 2019

 The Happiest Place on Earth.  Not.

 A bad time to have a zipper malfunction.

 Smokey the Bear spotted a food court.

 Famous last words:  "I think I can grab that koi fish."

 This is just like the dry cleaning bags at home.

 This photo was taken two seconds too early.

 Too much lighter fluid on the grill?

Aw, shucks, Dad...

 "Bobby, where did your sister go?"

 Where did you go on vacation?  Oh, to this poster of a cruise ship.

 You are going to return those 13 robes to the hotel, right?

It's never fun when a satanic possession intrudes on your trip to the beach.

Dinner last night:  Maple bourbon bacon salad.

You Know You Might Have to Find a New Church When...

...your pastor calls you a White supremacist in the middle of a service.  Well, she didn't necessarily direct that at me.   After all, there was another White man there at the time...our pianist.  But, in a very indirect way, she displayed a kind of dislike that has me thinking.

Maybe it's time to ditch the place I have called my religious home for the past twenty-one years.  Oddly enough, I have seen some Facebook hand wringing of folks lamenting the power of the Christian Right.

How about the Christian Left?   Because it exists in my church.  Decidely.

It's taken me over a week or two  to get over the aforementioned shock and put this into some sort of balanced prose.  As it is, I am sure some venom will spew out.  Trust me when I tell you that, while I have loved this building for over two decades, it has done me less good than you would expect.   There have been moments where I have been extremely hurt and confused by the actions of some of the folks there, most notably the pastor.  Indeed, I am not the only one who has been driven away over time.   

When I started there in 1998, attendance was decent.   In 2019, we can barely field a softball team on any given Sunday.   The powers that be rationalize that membership has dropped because people move away or die.   And that is the case.  But, I also need more than two hands to tick off the number of folks who left for a very specific reason.

When politics creeps into the worship.  

Okay, in our polarized America, I can tell you with assurance that my politics will counter with the views of 99% of you.   I hate all politicians.  This country has fallen down the rabbit hole, courtesy of Democrats and Republicans.  It is why I did not vote in the last Presidential election.  It is why I will likely not vote in the next Presidential election.  That's just the way it is, with apologies to Walter Cronkite.  Given that, I don't necessarily want to hear all the histrionics and latest talking points from Sean Hannity and Rachel Maddow on a Sunday.   

What I do want from worship is to hear some scriptures, a little music, and maybe a life lesson or two.   If I pick up a friend or two in the process, glory hallelujah.  

Luckily, I have made a good friend at this place.   The rest are merely acquaintances.   Most rarely inquire about what is going on in my life.  I have never been to any of their homes nor socialize outside of the Sunday time together.  

So, maybe what happened last week just kicked open an exit door that was already ajar.  

It was the morning after the two latest mass shootings in El Paso and Dayton.  Now, while race really never enters into my consideration at this church, I must tell you that most of the folks there that morning were African-American.  Our pastor, with a PhD from Berkeley, has always been known to me as an unabashed feminist and liberal.  She opened the service by offering a prayer for the shooting victims.   One of the congregation members then made an impassioned speech about the horrible course that America is on with Trump as President.   

We were now off to the races and I turned around to see where the MSNBC cameras were.  We were no longer there to worship.   

Then, the inexplicable...

The pastor said that all of this is happening in America because of "the white men in America."

There were two of us villains there.   The pianist and yours truly.  Both of us, in my opinion, pretty nice guys.  The only crime our pianist has ever committed is sometimes hitting the wrong note in a hymn.   As for me, I've never shot anybody.  I have friends of all sexes, races, and creeds.  And viewpoints.

Of course, our pastor immediately looked at the two creeps she just signaled out and said, "no offense given."

Oddly, I verbalized my response and said that it was too late.   A little offense had been taken.

Suddenly, one of the African-American women turned to scowl at me.   

"Why are you offended??"

Hello?  Okay, first off, you and I have always enjoyed friendly repartee.   But, in reality, you know nothing about me.  My life.  My choice of friends.  My viewpoints on anything.  How fucking dare you assume to make a judgment about me???

I desperately wanted to get out of there at that very moment.  To my discredit, I did not.   I rolled over an exit line in my mind if they asked why I was leaving.  In hindsight, I had a good one.   I could have said that I was simply going to join (insert the list of names) all those who had left the church because things got too politically one-sided.

But I stayed.  Much to my regret.   Because worship never really started that day.  White men were attacked for the plight of women, most races, and probably the cost of toothpaste at the local CVS.

At one point, the pastor ran into her office and brought back a prop.  It was a photo of the church council circa sometime in the 1950s.   It played into her business model.   The entire council was White.   

Oh, for the sake of God, that was over 60 years ago.  We have come so far since then!!  Hell, when I first walked into this building on Easter 1998, the first thing I saw was a female pastor.   Well, I'm still here.  

As I listened to the caterwauling on this Sunday, I realized that I could beat any one of these people in a discussion of American history.   In some respects, they are all lemmings who have not advanced beyond the viewpoints of the 60s and 70s.  The essence of balance was gone.  Will any of these people even acknowledge there has been positive evolution and change??

I wanted to say to the African-American contingent that, with all the hand wringing about shootings from male White supremacists, there is not similar outrage to what goes on every weekend in Chicago.   While not orchestrated by one lunatic, the body count is often mass shooting-like.   

Virtually all of it...Black shooting Black.

After about 45 minutes, the pastor ended the discussion, citing that too much political conversation might impact our 501 status.

This comes from somebody who rented out our facilities in 2016 to a Hillary Clinton campaign phone bank, complete with a life-size stand-up cut-out of Hillary.  The victory champagne is still in the pastor's office.  Unopened.

For some reason, I took pictures of all this and kept them on my phone.   When I think about it, I could cause a lot of problems for this church.

But I won't.   After all, I'm just a stupid, mean White man.

Dinner last night:  Smoked sausage and potato salad.

This Date in History - August 28

Happy birthday, Lou Piniella.  Are you finally out of baseball yet???

475:  THE ROMAN GENERAL ORESTES FORCES WESTERN ROMAN EMPEROR JULIUS NEPOS TO FLEE.  

Every single Wednesday, there's at least one reference to those crazy nuts in the Roman Empire.

489:  THEODORIC, KING OF THE OSTROGOTHS, DEFEATS ODOACER, FORCING HIS WAY INTO ITALY.

And sometimes there are two.

1189:  THE CRUSADERS BEGIN THE SIEGE OF ACRE UNDER GUY OF LUSIGNAN.

Years before the Crusaders played the Apollo Theater.

1521:  THE OTTOMAN TURKS OCCUPY BELGRADE.

These goofy Ottomans turn up a lot on Wednesdays, too.

1609:  HENRY HUDSON DISCOVERS DELAWARE BAY.

What did Delaware?  A size 12.

1619:  FERDINAND II IS ELECTED EMPEROR OF THE HOLY ROMAN EMPIRE.

Okay, three in one week is my limit.

1709:  MEIDINGNU PAMHEIBA IS CROWNED KING OF MANIPUR.

Who?  What?  Where?

1830:  THE BALTIMORE AND OHIO RAILROAD'S NEW TOM THUMB STEAM LOCOMOTIVE RACES A HORSE-DRAWN CAR.

In its first years on the air, this is the kind of event that ESPN would have covered.

1845:  THE FIRST ISSUE OF SCIENTIFIC AMERICAN IS PUBLISHED.

Circulation: 1.

1898:  CALEB BRADHAM INVENTS PEPSI-COLA.

Little did Caleb know but, years later, there would be about two dozen versions of the same soda.

1913:  QUEEN WILHELMINA OPENS THE PEACE PALACE IN THE HAGUE.

And, luckily, they had Pepsi available to drink at this conference.

1916:  DURING WORLD WAR I, GERMANY DECLARES WAR ON ROMANIA.

Sure, pick on the small kids.

1916:  DURING WORLD WAR I, ITALY DECLARES WAR ON GERMANY.

Obviously close friends with the folks in Romania.

1917:  TEN SUFFRAGETTES ARE ARRESTED WHILE PICKETING THE WHITE HOUSE.

And that's how women's prison movies got started.

1921:  ACTRESS NANCY KULP IS BORN.

Chief!

1925:  ACTOR DONALD O'CONNOR IS BORN.

Make 'em laugh.

1930:  ACTOR BEN GAZZARA IS BORN.

Officially running for his life.

1937:  TOYOTA MOTORS BECOMES AN INDEPENDENT COMPANY.

I had no idea they existed way back then.

1943:  BASEBALL STAR LOU PINIELLA IS BORN.

In his honor, argue with an umpire today.

1943:  ACTOR DAVID SOUL IS BORN.

Starsky is waiting for you.

1944:  DURING WORLD WAR II, MARSEILLE AND TOULON ARE LIBERATED.

Viva les assholes.

1953:  NIPPON TELEVISION BROADCASTS JAPAN'S FIRST TV SHOW, INCLUDING THE FIRST TV ADVERTISEMENT.

For Ginsu knives, no doubt.

1955:  BLACK TEENAGER EMMETT TILL IS BRUTALLY MURDERED IN MISSISSIPPI, GALVANIZING THE AMERICAN CIVIL RIGHTS MOVEMENT.

Screw that whole Jussie Smollett incident and all the others like it.  This was really a racial incident.

1957:  US SENATOR STROM THURMOND BEGINS A DAY-LONG FILIBUSTER TO PREVENT THE SENATE FROM VOTING ON A CIVIL RIGHTS ACT.  

Note to all:  he was a liberal Democrat at the time.

1963:  REVEREND MARTIN LUTHER KING JR. GIVES HIS "I HAVE A DREAM" SPEECH DURING THE MARCH ON WASHINGTON.

Did the dream include a trip to Memphis?  If so, he really wasn't paying attention.

1963:  EMILY HOFFERT AND JANICE WYLIE ARE MURDERED IN THEIR MANHATTAN APARTMENT, PROMPTING EVENTS THAT LEAD TO THE PASSING OF THE MIRANDA RIGHTS.

"You have the right to remain silent..."

1964:  THE PHILADELPHIA RACE RIOTS BEGINS.

So much for that dream.

1968:  RIOTS IN CHICAGO DURING THE DEMOCRATIC NATIONAL CONVENTION.

Dan Rather got punched.  How bad could this be?

1976:  ACTRESS ANISSA JONES DIES.

And Mrs. Beasley is devastated.

1978:  ACTOR ROBERT SHAW DIES.

Three years after he sort of died in "Jaws."

1985:  ACTRESS RUTH GORDON DIES.

Rosemary's Coffin.

1987:  DIRECTOR JOHN HUSTON DIES.

Caskets?  I don't need no stinkin' caskets.

1991:  MIKHAIL GORBACHEV RESIGNS AS GENERAL SECRETARY OF THE SOVIET COMMUNIST PARTY.

And he went through all that trouble of tearing down a wall.

1996:  CHARLES, PRINCE OF WALES AND DIANA, PRINCESS OF WALES DIVORCE.

As it will turn out, the end of August is not a good time for her.

2007:  ACTRESS MIYOSHI UMEKI DIES.

The easiest gag still works.   Sayonara.

2011:  HURRICANE IRENE STRIKES THE EAST COAST OF THE US.

And they think it's a killer storm.  Just wait...

2013:  BASEBALL FRANK PULLI DIES.

Strike three.

Dinner last night:  Leftover chicken thighs.

Len's Recipe of the Month - August 2019

Chicken thighs are probably the most flavorful of all chicken parts and, as a result, they are quite popular these days.   Always cooking them with the bone in results in a tasty dish.

What's even better about this new recipe I've lifted from Valerie Bertinelli is the fact that you really only need one pan to cook it all.   So grab your cast-iron skillet and let's get cracking.

For this, you'll need the following:

4 to bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs.

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper.

1 tablespoon unsalted butter.

1 tablespoon canola oil.

3.4 cup dry white wine.

1/4 cup pitted and halved kalamata olives.

Thyme.

1 head heirloom garlic, separated into cloves and peeled.   This milder form of garlic is hard to find, but check your local farmer's market.

1 medium shallot, sliced into rings.

Preheat your oven to 375 degrees.

Season the chicken with the salt and pepper on both sides.  

Heat the butter and oil in a cast-iron skillet until hot.  Place the chicken in the pan skin side down.   Let it cook about five minutes or until golden brown.

Turn the chicken over and turn off the heat.   Add the wine to the pan and then nestle the olives, garlic, shallot, and thyme around the chicken.  Give it some medium heat for about three minutes and then transfer to the oven and roast for about an hour.

Transfer it all to a serving dish.

Dig in.

Thank me.

Dinner last night:  Smoked sausage and sauteed onions.

Monday Morning Video Laugh - August 26, 2019

When you really, really want a parking spot...

Dinner last night: Chicken thighs with garlic, shallots, and olives.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - Challenging the Yankees and Other Games

It's big doings here in Los Angeles this weekend.   Interleague baseball has two of the best teams in baseball squaring off.   Yep, the Dodgers and the Yankees, who just meet in the World Series two months down the road.

It's fitting that these two storied franchises are going at it.   They have already met 11 times in the Fall Classic with the Yankees in domination, having won eight of them.   

Now, truth be told, growing up in Mount Vernon, New York, I was the odd duck.   Everybody and anybody I knew were Yankee fans, even my own father.  I went rogue and joined the Mets camp.   Strange as it may seem now, I sort of admire the current version of the Yankees and really have grown to dislike the Mets.   With their horrible and mean ownership, I will only return to them when the Wilpons are gone.   

But, of course, I do have the Dodgers.   And all of the above shows me just how far I have come from summers when I was a kid.   For all of us in the neighborhood, baseball was the thing.   Nightly games after dinner on a vacant lot before it got dark.   Watching games on either WPIX or WOR.   And then going out the next day to play some more,

Of course, if it got really, really hot and humid, we didn't necessarily want to exert our energy and sweat through our dirty t-shirts.  Instead, we'd play baseball without leaving our front steps.  With a host of board games that allowed you to manage in the major leagues. 

And since I have mentioned the Yankees, check out the photo above. My very earliest version of a baseball strategy game.

Challenge The Yankees.There were a bunch of baseball All-Stars on one and the Yankees from the 60s.  Mickey Mantle either hit a home run or struck out.  There was no other results.  It really didn't take a brain surgeon to play this game.  It was so easy that even Mickey Callaway could have won a few games.  I was always envious that they never did a companion version of this.  Slaughter the Mets.  But I was a lot more diplomatic in those those days and open to owning a few things that had navy blue pinstripes on them.

I lost interest in the game when, during a moment of losing disgust, I ripped Mickey Mantle's card in half. 

Of course, in real life, Mickey would get ripped many times during his career. And snockered. And liquored up. And stinkin' drunk.

Frankly, Challenge The Yankees wasn't all that taxing.  And, somehow, even with Mickey Mantle's card in tatters, the pinstriped wonders always won.Suddenly, one summer, a browsing visit through Shipman's Toy Store on Fourth Avenue in Mount Vernon provided the answer to my dreams.

Cadaco All-Star Baseball.This was a baseball board that finally wasn't Yankee-centric.  It looked like all teams were equally represented.  And it actually took me more than an half-hour to read the game instructions.

From the game board, it looked like this game was personally endorsed by Harmon Killebrew and that was as neutral as you could be.  After all, he played all the way over there in Minnesota.

There were a lot more charts to read with this game, so we immediately felt that our intelligence was being tested.  Ultimately, it was a pretty simple set up.  You had two teams full of all-stars.  Each player was on one of those circular stat cards which fit snugly like a donut over a wheel.  You would spin the wheel and the player's at-bat would be dictated by where the needle landed.  Of course, if a hitter struck out a lot in real life, he fanned a lot in this game because the strikeout pie slice on his card would be huge. 

Once we got the hang of this, we got bored pretty quickly.  It seemed like Willie Mays was always hitting homeruns and nobody else was doing anything but grounding to second base.  Yawn.  Hey, Harmon Killebrew, is this the best ya got?

When we all moved to our teenage years, we hit baseball board game paydirt.  The Big Kahuna of baseball strategy.  Also discussed here before...

Strat-O-Matic Baseball!!!

The vintage version of this baseball strategy game is pictured above and the one that dogged me and my friends for the first halves of our lives. Using last year's major league rosters or perhaps vintage teams from other eras, you act as the manager. You make the line-ups and the batting orders. You call for the sacrifices or the hit & runs. You change the pitchers during the later innings. You yourself are Gil Hodges, Tommy Lasorda, or Joe Torre. It was fascinating for us.

Back when, Strat-O-Matic Baseball wasn't available in regular stores. You had to send away for it, as if it was a secret club that nobody else could know about. I remember when I saved my allowance to buy it for the first time. I couldn't afford the high-priced postage level, so my game was being sent to me by horse and buggy.

For about three weeks, I waited diligently on the porch as the US Parcel Post truck came at the same time every day. If it was a school day, I would run home and pepper my grandmother with queries. Did the truck go by yet? Did my package come? Grandma couldn't take the daily pressure.

"Stop asking me everyday. You make me nervous."

It seemed like forever but the game finally showed up and we were off to the races. The pennant races, that is.

Somewhere in the bowels of the Strat-O-Matic headquarters out on Long Island, there was some guy who decided on how to program each player's cards. The game had two sets of players: pitchers and batters. And their game cards were designed to mirror how they actually had performed the year before in the majors. All tied to the roll of three dice. Just like in Vegas.

One dice pointed you to either the pitcher's or the batter's card. The other two dice added up to a number that you would seek out on the the appropriate card. Sandy Koufax's pitching card had a lot of strikeouts. Mickey Mantle's card had a lot of home runs and a lot of strikeouts. Players also had defensive ratings. If you were a "1," you were a Gold Glove. If you were a "4," you made a lot of errors. If your speed was a "AA," you were as fast as the wind. If your running rating was an "E," you ran like you were carrying a piano on your back.

So, every time a batter came up, you'd roll the three dice to find out what he did. You'd read the three dice and frequently have to refer to about three charts to find out the outcome of his at-bat. It was all very intricate for a bunch of twleve-year-olds.

And we loved every moment. We played it all summer. Often on my kitchen table. But, we and the game were often portable. On hot nights, we'd move out to a front stoop on the block and lay out the game there. which gave industrious ants a great way to transport themselves into my house. Quickly, Grandma was not a Strat-O-Matic fan.

"You're bringing in all these bugs with that stupid game of yours."

Yeah, okay, sorry. I didn't really care. This game was keeping us occupied and out of a lot of normal teen-age trouble.

My neighborhood best chum Leo was naturally a major Strat-O-Matic cohort. To develop a league, we recruited other "managers" as well. Leo's younger brothers and some of the other denizens of South 15th Avenue were likely targets. Admittedly, it was a commitment to play in a league. You had to manually keep your team's stats. You had to finish your games on time. In many cases, Strat-O-Matic provided us all with the first "work" responsibility of our lives.

One summer, we decided to have a league with some of the "oldtime" teams that Strat-O-Matic made available. I managed the 1954 New York Giants, a team connection that my now-Dodger Blue blood finds abhorrent. Leo took a really safe route and captained the best baseball team ever, the 1927 New York Yankees. How do you not win with Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig in your line-up? Still, that didn't stop Leo from trying to fire up his team for each game. To get his batters to do better, he would place an unlit firecracker on each card. The threat worked. I think Leo and the Yankees won the pennant that summer.

Frankly, I didn't need anybody else to enjoy Strat-O--Matic. I could easily play games myself and manage both squads. One year, I replayed the complete 1969 New York Met season. In a tip of the hat to accuracy, that team won the pennant and the World Series all over again.

While I thought that those of us on 15th Avenue had exclusively cornered the market with Strat-O-Matic love, I soon discovered at Fordham University that there were others in the NY metropolitan area who had been spending their summers doing the same exact thing. When I started working at Fordham's radio station WFUV, I found myself amongst a whole new bunch of Strat-O-philes. Bingo. As soon as the summer months hit, we were clearing off the desk in the newsroom and starting yet another league.

One year, I was managing the Boston Red Sox. I didn't want to be typecast as purely a NY manager. That league was rather intense. I was dealing with people who took their teams seriously. There were no firecracker threats, but some of the other managers dealt with the game as if their lives depended upon each roll of the dice. One day, I walked into the newsroom to find one of my friends talking softly to his player cards and rolling dice every fifteen seconds. I asked Steve what he was doing.

"Having batting practice and a pep talk."

Okay. When it came to Strat-O-Matic, sanity frequently took a back seat.

Then, we had a cheater in our midst. Before long, the word was out that one of our fellow managers needed to be monitored closely. Because if he was down a run or two in the ninth inning, he would pick up the pace of the game so much that some of the batter outcomes were slightly exaggerated. Plus he would hold his cards up in his hand so you couldn't see them as he rapidly rolled the dice.

"2-7, single. 3-9, double. 4-10, home run, I win!"

We all got wise in a hurry.

"Excuse me, could you put your cards down on the table please? Oh, look, that 4-10 home run was really a ground out to second base. You lose."

When it came to Strat-O-Matic, honesty also took a back seat.

Once we all graduated and life took a hold of each of us, Strat-O-Matic entered the dust collecting phase in each of our individual existences. Oh, the game still existed and was thriving with lots of folks. Just not us.

About 15 years ago, the Westchester County newspaper chain ran a story on Strat-O-Matic fanatics. As a sidebar, they were looking for players to participate in a sudden elimination league tournament that would also serve as the subject of a follow-up story.

Even though I hadn't played the game in some time, I entered.

One night, I was summoned up to the newspaper headquarters in White Plains where I was hustled into a room full of Strat-O geeks. is this what the typical player had morphed into? Was this now a baseball strategy game version of a Star Trek convention? I was given the 1973 New York Mets to manage.

I lost in extra innings and was immediately eliminated. Maybe I should have conducted batting practice and talked more to my player cards.

In the high tech world of today, Strat-O-Matic Baseball is now loaded on your PC. You can play on-line with the actual backdrops of real major league ballparks. All the charts of old are gone, as are the continuous rolls of dice. The computer keeps the team stats for you. I was intrigued enough to buy the new version. And, truth be told, I have enjoyed it. I have replayed the seasons of the 1955 Brooklyn Dodgers, the 1963 Los Angeles Dodgers, and, for old times sake, the 1969 New York Mets. Indeed, the game is much improved and you can go through a whole season of games in lickety split fashion.

My buddy Leo, who now lives just twenty minutes down the 405 freeway from me, came over one Saturday afternoon to sample the "new" Strat-O-Matic. It was just like the old days. And, then again, it wasn't. Somehow, thinking back to my kitchen table with all the charts and dice, there was a lot more magic to our afternoons. It simply wasn't the same.

And, to make matters worse, Leo had left his firecracker at home.

Meanwhile, let's look at the field for a minute.  Go Dodgers!  Challenge those Yankees!

Dinner last night:  Beijing Beef bowl.

Classic Movie Trailer of the Month - August 2019

One of Woody's first and best.  Came out fifty years ago this month.

Dinner last night:  Dodger Dog at the stadium.

Mixed Messages

Dinner last night:  St. Louis ribs at Boneyard Bistro.

The Sad Plight of the Plastic Straw

It has been a friend for so long.   But, now, the always "smart" Federal and state government have demonized it.   The poor unsuspecting thing is killing our environment.   Frankly, in my humble opinion, the best way to stop what's going on with our planet is to get rid of every politician in America.  I mean, with their words, how much of their own hot air has contributed to so-called global warming?  But I digress...

I am lamenting today an old pal.  The plastic straw.   Allegedly, its very presence is killing us all.  Now you are served a drink in a public eatery without one.  Or you have to specifically ask.   It's bad enough I have to work about bacteria not being cleaned sufficiently from forks and knives.  Now I have to worry about mouths on rims of glasses.   

So this started with a fervor in California about six months ago and I am always the one insisting on a straw.  Most of the time, your server has one in his back pocket.   But there are other times when what is provided is even worse.

Cue the sinister music.

The paper straw.

This shit is worthless and there is no better indictment of this product than at my summer home, Dodger Stadium.   This season, their concession stands flipped to paper straws.  Now, my ritual is to get the biggest size soda available before the game.  This will keep me company, with plenty of ice, until usually the eighth inning.

But not with the paper straw.   Sometime around the fifth inning, I pick up my soda and take a swig.

Nothing.

I am inhaling air.

I look at the straw.   It has totally disintegrated in the middle.

So what is the point of all this?   Especially when you can plainly see in these photos.  A plastic lid.  A plastic cup.

One more time in America, we cannot have nice things.   And, for me, there was nothing more welcome than a plastic straw.

Dinner last night:  Grilled steak salad.

  

This Date in History - August 21

Happy birthday to one of our favorite Mod Squad-ers.

1192:  MINAMOTO NO YORITOMO BECOMES SEII TAI SHOGUN AND THE DE FACTO RULER OF JAPAN.

It's a lot easier to spell Richard Chamberlain.

1331:  KING STEPHEN UROS III, AFTER MONTHS OF ANARCHY, SURRENDERS TO HIS SON AND RIVAL, WHO SUCCEEDS AS KING OF SERBIA.

For those of you whose goal it is to rule Serbia.  Wherever the hell that is.

1680:  PUEBLO INDIANS CAPTURE SANTA FE FROM THE SPANISH.

Does the Monopoly railroad come with this?

1772:  KING GUSTAV III COMPLETES HIS COUP D'ETAT BY ADOPTING A NEW CONSTITUTION, ENDING HALF A CENTURY OF PARLIAMENTARY RULE IN SWEDEN AND INSTALLING HIMSELF AS AN ENLIGHTENED DESPOT.

True enlightenment is always arguable.

1778:  DURING THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION, BRITISH FORCES BEGIN BESIEGING THE FRENCH OUTPOST AT PONDICHERY.

Two countries who never ever get along.

1810: JEAN-BAPTISTE BERNADOTTE, MARSHAL OF FRANCE, IS ELECTED CROWN PRINCE OF SWEDEN.

There's a lot of this Swedish bullshit today.

1831:  NAT TURNER LEADS BLACK SLAVES AND FREE BLACKS IN A REBELLION.

Years before his brother Ike met Tina.

1863:  LAWRENCE, KANSAS IS DESTROYED BY CONFEDERATE GUERRILLAS.  

And gorillas they are.

1879:  THE VIRGIN MARY, ALONG WITH ST. JOSEPH AND ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST, REPORTEDLY APPEAR AT KNOCK SHRINE IN IRELAND.

In Ireland?  Oh, that explains it.  Probably some green elephants, too.

1883:  AN F5 TORNADO STRIKES ROCHESTER, MINNESOTA, LEADING TO THE CREATION OF THE MAYO CLINIC.

Because the injured needed someplace to go.

1888:  THE FIRST SUCCESSFUL ADDING MACHINE IN THE US IS PATENTED BY WILLIAM SEWARD BURROUGHS.

Who realized that ten fingers and toes were not enough.

1897:  OLDSMOBILE, A BRAND OF AMERICAN AUTOMOBILES, IS FOUNDED.

Just in time for the 1898 car buying season.

1904:  MUSICIAN COUNT BASIE IS BORN.

Orchestra to follow.

1905:  ANIMATOR FRIZ FRELENG IS BORN.

Looney Tunes to follow.

1911:  THE MONA LISA IS STOLEN BY A LOUVRE EMPLOYEE.

Now how far can you get with that tucked underneath your coat??

 1924:  SPORTSCASTER JACK BUCK IS BORN.

Sadly, to some viewers, son Joe to follow.

1924:  SPORTSCASTER CHRIS SCHENKEL IS BORN.

Two great announcers born on the same day.

1924:  ACTOR JACK WESTON IS BORN.

And him, too.

1930:  PRINCESS MARGARET IS BORN.

The baby was crowning.

1936:  BASKETBALL STAR WILT CHAMBERLAIN IS BORN.

Can you imagine him coming down the birth canal??

1938:  SINGER KENNY ROGERS IS BORN.

Talk about your First Edition.

1939:  ACTOR CLARENCE WILLIAMS III IS BORN.

So there were two others before him??

1940:  RUSSIAN POLITICIAN LEON TROTSKY DIES.

So I guess we need to go on the trade market for another lefty.

1942:  THE FLAG OF NAZI GERMANY IS INSTALLED ATOP THE MOUNT ELBRUS, THE HIGHEST PEAK OF THE CAUCASUS MOUNTAIN RANGE.

Yeah, but not for long.

1945:  PHYSICIST HARRY K. DAGHLIAN JR. IS FATALLY IRRADIATED IN A CRITICALITY ACCIDENT DURING AN EXPERIMENT WITH THE DEMON CORE.

I am picturing the way the Nazis got fried in Raiders of the Lost Ark.

1959:  PRESIDENT DWIGHT D. EISENHOWER SIGNS AN EXECUTIVE ORDER PROCLAIMING HAWAII THE 50TH STATE OF THE UNION.  

Aloha.  Now Jack Lord has some place to work.

1961:  MOTOWN RELEASES WHAT WOULD BE ITS FIRST #1 HIT, "PLEASE MR. POSTMAN" BY THE MARVELETTES.

Is there a letter, a letter for me?

1979:  SOVIET DANCER ALEXANDER GODUNOV DEFECTS TO THE UNITED STATES.

Because, for him, Russia wasn't godunov.

1983:  PHILIPPINE OPPOSITION LEADER BENIGNO AQUINO JR. IS ASSASSINATED AT THE MANILA INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT.

For those of you on stand by, a seat has opened up.

1991:  A COUP ATTEMPT AGAINST MIKHAIL GORBACHEV COLLAPSES.

Somebody didn't want him taking down that wall.

1993:  NASA LOSES CONTACT WITH THE MARS OBSERVER SPACECRAFT.

They eventually reconnected for Facebook.

2005:  INVENTOR ROBERT MOOG DIES.

He lost control of all his synthesizers.

2010: ACTRESS NANCY DOLMAN DIES.

Mrs. Martin Short.  Sad.

2017:  A SOLAR ECLIPSE CROSSES THE U.S.

Don't look directly at it.   You did?  Too late.  You're probably not reading this.

Dinner last night:  Pre-game buffet at the Dodger Stadium Club.