This Date in History - May 31

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Hollywood Then And Now - May 2023

The ultimate then and now.   

Chavez Ravine before.

Chavez Ravine after.

Dinner last night:  Leftover chicken marsala.

Monday Morning Video Laugh - May 29, 2023

 Wrapping up our Carol Burnett tribute month with one clip that is all Carol.

Dinner last night:  Chicken marsala from Maria's Italian Kitchen.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - The Weekly Memorial Day

 

One particular sadness I have this Memorial Day weekend is that, thanks to misguided advice from "friends," I am housebound "recovering" from knee replacement surgery.   I regret that I will miss the stirring sight you see above.

My route to church takes me past the Los Angeles Veterans Memorial Cemetery.  And, on this one weekend every May, I am astounded to see all the graves above.  Almost overnight, adored by an American flag.  How the heck does this happen?  I mean, there have to be thousands and thousands of graves here.

One year, I got the answer.  I happen to be driving by the place on Saturday and saw dozens and dozens of Boy Scouts and Cub Scouts.  All scampering up and down the rows of tombstones, yet respectfully stopping to decorate each one with its own Stars and Stripes.

If this is indeed a tradition for this cemetery, it's a beautiful one.  The youngest Americans saluting perhaps some of the oldest.

For me, Memorial Day was more than just remembering our nation's soldiers.  It's a time where you should recall all those who has passed on.

But, then again, in my family, every Sunday was Memorial Day.  Because there was no more likely Sunday activity in our house than prepping for that day's sojourn to the cemetery.  

You'd see the signs emerging right after Grandma and Grandpa had cleared their Sunday dinner dishes.  Usually by 1PM.  I'd look out our upstairs kitchen window.  Grandma would be by her flower bed.  Snip, snip, snip.  Then she'd move onto the lilac tree.  It wasn't always in bloom.  But, if it was...

Snip, snip, snip.

Meanwhile, there would the sound of tools being moved in the garage.  Grandpa came out with a shovel, a water can, and a weed whacker.  They'd get tossed into the back of his car.

Yep, they were headed to the cemetery.  To visit everybody.  

Our family was spread out over two places.  The humongous Woodlawn Cemetery in the Bronx.  If you were there, you must have died before 1950.  The real oldtimers were planted there.  A foray to Woodlawn often became an event that even my parents attached themselves to.  Smack in the middle of this place was a duck pond.  And a wonderful spot for my dad to play with his Argus Technicolor camera.

This duck feeding thing was a big deal.  Mom dressed up for it.

Personally, I was bored by the treks through Woodlawn.  I never knew the relatives there. Cousins who had died of sinus infections in the pre-antibiotic days of the 30s. One young nephew who had accidentally stabbed himself to death while slicing some pork chops in the butcher shop. 

They were ashes and dust long before I popped out.  To keep my interest level up on those afternoons, my father would always drive me over for a history lesson.  It seems some rich lady back in 1912 had erected a monument to all those who sunk with the Titanic.  

It was a memorial, but I'd attack it like a jungle gym.  I'd be running like a lunatic all over it until my dad would invariably put an end to the mayhem.

"Get off there before you break your neck and we have to leave you here."

Oh.

These cemetery tours were almost robotic for my grandparents.  They had their set routine as adjunct gardeners for all our dead relatives.

Fill the water can from a nozzle that often just dripped liquid.

Pull out all the weeds that had spring up.

Sometimes, real surgery was needed if you showed up and there was a gaping hole in the grave.

"Uh, oh, Uncle Albert has sunk."

Just like the Titanic.

And that's why another item that was frequently loaded into Grandpa's car trunk was a big bag of dirt.  Handy to fill the holes that were ruining Tante Somebody's eternal rest.

Of course, if this was a Sunday to visit the more recent deceased family members, we'd head north to Ferncliff.

Located on a quiet hill in the even quieter hamlet of Hartsdale, New York, Ferncliff Cemetery is the eternal home of lots of famous people. 

Songwriter Harold Arlen, James Baldwin, ice cream meglomaniac Tom Carvel, Joan Crawford, Basil Rathbone, Toots Shor, Ed Sullivan and his orchestra leader Ray Bloch, director Preston Sturges, Moss Hart and his wife Kitty Carlisle Hart, renowned troublemaker Malcolm X, Oscar Hammerstein, Moms Mabley, and Judy Garland. Beatle John Lennon was cremated there. The list goes on and on and on. 

The place includes also a whole passel of my relatives. And the relatives of several good friends of mine.

And ultimately my own parents.

Indeed, my mom would be happy to know that her top floor studio apartment/niche is a mere three dozen footsteps away from Miss Garland, whom I would have allegedly be named after. If I, of course, was a girl. Not that gender ever made a difference to Judy. 

But, I digress...

We'd know we were headed to Ferncliff on a Sunday if you heard Grandma make the following announcement.

"Come on, let's go see Uncle Fritz."

The eight-year-old comedian in me could not resist the witty retort.  Yeah, but he can't see you. Ha ha. 

My grandmother didn't find the funny in funny.

"Don't be fresh."

We'd tool up to Ferncliff and there was a set order in which folks would be "visited." On our first stop, Grandma would survey the grounds like General Patton.  If a grave needed attention, she would call our.

 ”Pop, bring me the shears!”
 
And then they would spend an hour manicuring the grounds while I played hopscotch on the bronze nameplates all around me. And then get scolded for that.
 
”Don’t walk on them. That’s where their head is.”
 
Huh?

I'd often wander aimlessly across the street to the big building where everybody had indoor places to repose.  Why?  I have no idea because that mausoleum always managed to give me the creeps.  There would be eerie, somber music that was piped into that joint.  I walked through there wearing imaginary blinders, but always stopping for a second to look at those personalized family crypts.  Some were decorated to look like living rooms with even kids' toys on the floor.

Audible scream followed by my feet running as fast as they could.

There was one Ferncliff grave that my father scared the shit out of me with. It seems some real jerk had a bust made of his head. When he was buried, the bust was placed under the nameplate and you could lift it up to look down. 

One day, my father said, “come on and say hello to Uncle Charlie.” Not knowing the horror to come and being a dumb kid, I did so. Uncle Charlie looking up from his resting place. 

Audible scream all over again! 

Nightmares for a week.

Thanks, Dad.

When the afternoon was over, Grandma would pronounce the end as if she had finished a major project.

"Everybody's fine.  Good kinuck."

I think "kinuck" meant "enough."

As we would drive home, Grandma would often turn to me and ask if I would visit her in the same way every Sunday.

Yeah, sure.

As only it could make sense, my grandparents were buried in Woodlawn Cemetery with the rest of the older folks.  They picked their own plot.  Right next to the fence with the cars racing by on Webster Avenue outside.  I asked them once why she had picked this spot.

"We want to be able to watch all the cars go by."

Oh. 

I don't visit cemeteries every Sunday.  In lieu of pulling weeds, I prefer to remember all here.  On this blog.

Where they still live.

Dinner last night:  Teriyaki noodle soup.

Classic Movie Trailer of the Month - May 2023

 Hard to believe that one of my true favorites is 60 years old this month!

Dinner last night:  Sandwich.

Len's Juke Box of the Month - May 2023

Summer will be here in no time and no better promotes the season than this great Huey Lewis and the News hit from 1983.

Dinner last night:  Chinese noodles.

Deja Vu All Over Again

 

At the MLB All-Star game in 2015, the pre-game festivities brought us first balls thrown by the four greatest players still alive.   That would be Johnny Bench, Sandy Koufax, Hank Aaron, and Willie Mays.

Somewhere in New Jersey, Yogi Berra's granddaughter Lindsay was watching with him.   She asked him "are you dead?"   Yogi replied, "I don't think so."

The point being is that Yogi's stats and baseball career honors were equal to and, in some cases, greater than those of the four being honored.  At that point, Lindsay decided it was time to give her grandpa his due.   Along with director-writer Sean Mullen, she has done just that with this spectacular documentary "It Ain't Over."

It is all here in a linear fashion.   You see Yogi the child, Yogi the husband, Yogi the player, and Yogi the manager.  With a bevy of talking heads that include perhaps Vin Scully's last screen appearance, you come away with one overriding sensation.

Yogi Berra was quite the guy.

Indeed, Lindsay laments how, in later years, he was perceived more as a Yoo-Hoo swilling clown than the true hero he should have been.  Was it because he wasn't classically handsome?   Or thought of as a little stupid because of the many Yogi-isms he came up with?   Whatever the reason, the filmmakers show us the real man.   And, for all of us, that's more than enough.

It's all here.   His playing career where he almost never struck out.  His managing careers with the Yankees and Mets.   His contention that Jackie Robinson didn't really steal home in the 1955 World Series.  His years of silence with Yankee owner George Steinbrenner.   Nothing is held back.

The story is crafted in such a way that I would up in tears for the last ten minutes.  When was the last time a documentary did that?   Almost never.

But there's never been anybody like Yogi Berra.

In theaters now, but likely will be streamed soon.

LEN'S RATING:  Four stars.

Dinner last night:  Salisbury steak.

This Date in History - May 24

 

Happy birthday to Mrs. Elvis.    Back when she was a looker on Dallas.   The doctors have not been kind.  And a tough year all around with the passing of daughter Lisa Marie.   Stay tuned...

1487:  THE TEN-YEAR-OLD LAMBERT SIMMEL IS CROWNED IN DUBLIN WITH THE NAME OF EDWARD VI IN A BID TO THREATEN KING HENRY'S VII REIGN.

If King Henry can't beat the crap out of a ten-year-old, he doesn't deserve the crown.

1607:  100 ENGLISH SETTLES DISEMBARK IN JAMESTOWN, THE FIRST ENGLISH COLONY IN AMERICA.

What Indians??

1626:  PETER MINUIT BUYS MANHATTAN.

With a credit limit of 30 dollars on his Diner's Club card.

1689:  THE ENGLISH PARLIAMENT PASSES THE ACT OF TOLERATION PROTECTING PROTESTANTS.  ROMAN CATHOLICS ARE EXCLUDED.

So much for tolerance.

1738:  JOHN WESLEY IS CONVERTED, ESSENTIALLY LAUNCHING THE METHODIST MOVEMENT.

Roman Catholics excluded again?

1830:  "MARY HAD A LITTLE LAMB" BY SARAH JOSEPHA HALE IS PUBLISHED.

Fleece as white as snow?  Is that racist?

1844:  SAMUEL MORSE SENDS THE MESSAGE 'WHAT HATH GOD WROUGHT" TO INAUGURATE THE FIRST TELEGRAPH LINE.

Dot dot dash dot dash dot dash dash.

1883:  THE BROOKLYN BRIDGE IN NEW YORK CITY IS OPENED TO TRAFFIC AFTER 14 YEARS OF CONSTRUCTION.

Where's the E-Z pass lane?

1895:  HENRY IRVING BECOMES THE FIRST PERSON FROM THE THEATER TO BE KNIGHTED.

For those of you who thought it was Lin-Manuel Miranda.

1921:  THE TRIAL OF SACCO AND VANZETTI OPENS.

Paging Perry Mason.

1935:  THE FIRST NIGHT GAME IN MAJOR LEAGUE BASEBALL HISTORY IS PLAYED IN CINCINNATI, OHIO.  

The Reds beat the Phillies, 2-1 for those of you keeping score.

1940:  IGOR SIKORSKY PERFORMS THE FIRST SUCCESSFUL SINGLE ROTOR HELICOPTER.

Tell us which freeway is jammed, please.

1941:  WORLD WAR II - THE GERMAN BATTLESHIP BISMARCK SINKS THE HMS HOOD OF THE ROYAL NAVY.

What goes around will come around.

1941:  MUSICIAN BOB DYLAN IS BORN.

Just what does a woman taste like?

1943:  ACTOR GARY BURGHOFF IS BORN.

B*A*B*Y*.

1945:  ACTRESS PRISCILLA PRESLEY IS BORN.

Mother and daughter.  In happier times.  Obviously, they had the same plastic surgeon.

 

1953:  ACTOR ALFRED MOLINA IS BORN.

My friend once threw a script into his front yard.

1958:  UNITED PRESS INTERNATIONAL IS FORMED THROUGH A MERGER OF THE UNITED PRESS AND THE INTERNATIONAL NEWS SERVICE.

Slow news day.

1961:  AMERICAN CIVIL RIGHTS MOVEMENT - FREEDOM RIDERS ARE ARRESTED IN MISSISSIPPI FOR "DISTURBING THE PEACE" AFTER DISEMBARKING FROM THEIR BUS.

Al Sharpton, I'm looking at you.

1962:  PROJECT MERCURY - AMERICAN ASTRONAUT SCOTT CARPENTER ORBITS THE EARTH THREE TIMES.

"So, what did you do at work today, Honey?"

1967:  EGYPT IMPOSES A BLOCKADE AND SIEGE OF THE COAST OF ISRAEL.

And the fighting still goes on to this day.

1974:  MUSICIAN DUKE ELLINGTON DIES.

Take the A Hearse.

1976:  THE JUDGMENT OF PARIS TAKES PLACE IN FRANCE, LAUNCHING AS A WORLDWIDE FORCE IN THE PRODUCTION OF QUALITY WINE.

I'll have the house Cabernet, thank you.

1984:  WRESTLING PROMOTER VINCE MCMAHON SR. DIES.

Bobo Brazil and Haystacks Calhoun were pall bearers.

1993:  ERITREA GAINS ITS INDEPENDENCE FROM ETHIOPIA.

Who?  What?  Where?

1994:  FOUR MEN CONVICTED OF BOMBING THE WORLD TRADE CENTER IN 1993 ARE EACH SENTENCED TO 240 YEARS IN PRISON.

Six months with good behavior.

2001:  THE VERSAILLES WEDDING HALL DISASTER IN JERUSALEM KILLS 23 AND INJURES OVER 200.

Remember this?  Can you say "fire laws?"

2008:  COMIC DICK MARTIN DIES.

Good night, Dick.

Dinner last night:  Leftover lasagna.

Near Fatal Mistake

Sometimes I don't know why I watch what I watch.

In reality, there is zero reason to be interested in the Paramount Plus TV series reboot of "Fatal Attraction."  I mean, the 1987 movie was perfectly fine and the cast of Michael Douglas, Glenn Close, and Anne Archer was almost iconic as the famous triangle.

But, years later, we no longer have remakes.   We have re-imaginations.   That's an awfully fancy word to explain that nobody has original ideas anymore.  Let's just take somebody else's idea and put our own spin on it.

As a fan of the original, the TV reboot sparked enough intrigue on my part to stream Episode 1.  And, unfortunately, Episode 1 led me to Episode 2 and Episode 3 and Episode 4.   Yes, I'm likely to buy into all eight installments.

Does that mean I like what I see?   Well, yes and no.

The 2023 version takes the original story and expands on it greatly.  There are flashbacks and flash forwards.   In the current day, the philandering husband is paroled after fifteen years in jail for admitting to killing his mistress.   He is trying to reconnect with his now-20-year-old plus daughter.

But, wait, you say.   In the movie, he didn't kill the mistress.  His wife did.  Of course, you may remember that the film ending was changed at the last minute because test audiences needed that violence to appease their emotions.   The first movie ending had the mistress committing suicide but framing the husband.  

So, based on the TV show, we don't know yet which ending was used or if it's different altogether.   Maybe that's the hook that has driven me in.  

At the same time, the TV show introduces a bevy of other characters to flesh out...no, re-imagine...the plot.  And, naturally, because this is a 2023 production, we have a wide range of diversity in the cast.

Now, in the flashbacks, the original attraction and subsequent psychotic results are pretty much as shown in the movie.   And here's my biggest complaint about the TV show.   The two leads of Dan and Alex have about as much as heat as a radiator in a slum apartment in the dead of winter.  Talk about the most boring sex scenes ever.  Joshua Jackson and Lizzy Caplan just don't bring the humidity we got from Douglas and Close years ago.

Yet, still, I watch.   I want to see where it's going.   If, indeed, it goes anywhere.  

Here's another TV show I am watching without a perfectly good explanation.

Dinner last night:  Leftover lasagna.     

Monday Morning Video Laugh - May 22, 2023

 It's still Carol Burnett Month, but this time, it's all about Harvey Korman and Tim Conway.  The Dentist!

Dinner last night:  Leftover Chinese food.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - Hair Today, Hair Tomorrow

 From time to time, I have recently made futile attempts at cleaning out some closets in my New York apartment.  Naturally, as you undertake such a process that you really don't want to do, you can be easily distracted.

By photo albums, for instance.

I have collected a few of them over the years and I rationalized that, by spending an hour or two with the ones from these closets, I could expand the photos I use in this blog.  After all, my dad's Technicolor slides are finite and I have already employed several of those snapshots on multiple occasions.

So I dove into the photo albums and had yet another epiphany.

Gee, what the hell was I thinking?   Appearance-wise, that is.

I've never been happy with the way I look.  Okay, who is?  Always a little chubby, even if I wasn't.  Constantly having some sort of hair mishap.  Not digging whatever glasses I was sporting at the time.  Or, in some photos, being incredibly over or under dressed.

If you start with my childhood, you can divide up my "modes of appearance" into three distinct eras.  If you look at the picture that always adores my blog and Facebook page, that's pretty much me in the most recent era.  Still not crazy about what God and DNA has given me, but making the most of it.  The hair is not as much of an issue these days.  I've got a terrific hair stylist, Lisa Oliver, in Los Angeles.  Facially, I try to keep it clean and as young looking as possible.  That's why I devour Men's Health magazine every month.

Of course, the earliest era of my appearance's life was not under my control.  I was put out into the world in whatever outfit my mom decided was the fashion of the day.  Take, for instance...

This fuzzy photo of Hopalong Len.  Apparently, cowboys were in and Mom went overboard decking me out in Marshall Dillon's finest.  

You really can't tell from this grainy snapshot, but my hair is perfectly combed.  There is not a strand out of place.  That's because it was virtually cemented into place.   By this stuff....

Every single day of my life up until the sixth grade, my head was full of product.  Bottles of it at a time.  Every time I went with my dad for a haircut from John the Barber on White Plains Road and 225th Street in the Bronx, we had to stock up on more and more of this guck.  Yes, that's what my mother called it....

Guck.  

Apparently, it was sold only in hair cutting establishments.  Or perhaps on the black market.  I can't think of a reputable store actually allowing this weapon out into the public.  It would stiffen my hair so much that my head could be used as a battering ram for cops trying to break down a door.  

As a result of this garbage, I became a grade school carnival act.  Kids in my class would love to come up to my hair and pat it.  Yes, fellow classmate, it is the consistency of marble.  No, you can't carve your name in it.  But, on the windiest day in January, your hair will be a mess.  Mine will not move.  I was perfectly coiffed.  With a head very much like the plastic GI Joe doll I bought at the toy store.

The parental controls on bodily hair were relaxed in high school and college.  But, that didn't necessarily mean things got any better.  I had begun to shave.  There was always a cut somewhere on my face.  And, following the pattern of friends, I let my hair grow longer.  I look at some photos from college and it looks dirty.  To this day, I refuse to look at my college yearbook graduation photo.  My hair is a mess.  I apparently tried to comb it in front of an electric fan.  

But, as my tour through Photo Album Land was about to show, I would be soon entering my second era of "appearance mode."  And hair style.

Instead of parting my hair on the side, I would be radically and part it....gasp....in the middle.

But, that was not all.    Nope, the piece de resistance of Len's image would be...

A moustache.

Now, there are many of my Los Angeles friends who will have no knowledge of this.  Good pals that I have met in the past fifteen years who know me only with an unadorned upper lip.  For those of you, please hold on to your loved ones as you scroll down to meet...the moustached Len.

Gasp.

Truth be told, I love this photo.  It's probably me at my edgiest.  As I examine it, I can remember every moment of this day.  

For several years in the early 90s, my college best friend and I would make an annual summer road trip to see the Mets play the Cubs in Chicago's Wrigley Field.  The temperature on this day had topped 100 degrees.  I had already ditched the hair parting down the middle and was regularly getting clipped by a guy in Pelham, New York named Billy Shears.  Yes, Billy Shears.  Don't ask.  He did a pretty good job, but, on this day, the humidity had done its damage.  My hair had stood up for the seventh inning stretch and never sat down.

But, still, I like the way I look in this photo.  My appearance captures perfectly where I was and what I was doing in my life at this time.  

Flipping through some more pages of the Moustache Era, there were days and photos that were less perfect.  Indeed, I had grown the foliage on the upper lip to look older.   Some time around 1994, I shaved it off.

To look younger.  

But, as the albums showed me, the moustache lasted much, much longer than I had remembered.  I must have been comfortable with it because it endured for many years.  Over a decade.

You'll see some of those photos as I find reasons to incorporate them on subsequent Sundays.  There are pictures that I look good in.  There are others that are straight from the Cabinet of Dr. Caligari.  But, from the Hair Down the Middle Era which was also part of the Moustache Era, this is one photo which I like a lot. Taken with my good friend, Djinn from the Bronx, during one of my first visits to California.

Damn, it was all working for me on that day.  But, in my life, that's the equivalent of Halley's Comet.

But, as I close out the Len Eras of Appearance Past, I make one last note about good and bad hair days.  

In 2023, I still have most of it.  I look around at some friends and...well...they don't.

Dinner last week: Mongolia Beef from Chin Chin.

Classic TV Theme Song of the Month - May 2023

Everybody forgets that Dick Van Dyke and Carl Reiner tried to recreate magic with another sitcom in the early 70s.  This one was filmed in Phoenix the first two seasons.  Quite forgettable. 

Dinner last night:  Pepperoni pizza after surgery.

Your Weekend Movie Guide for May 2023

 

The sensation doesn't go away.  I am still missing the Cinerama Dome and hoping for its eventual return.   Even if I was going to see something crappy like "Airport 75."

Indeed, these days, this flick from 1975 is ten times better than stuff on our current screens.   You know the monthly routine, gang.   I'll drift through the LA Times movie pages and give you my knee jerk, gut reaction to what's playing.   

Just don't expect to see any of it playing at the Cinerama Dome.

Fool's Paradise:   A comedy that sounds intriguing.   A Hollywood agent finds an actor lookalike in a mental institution and uses him as a substitute when his client won't come out of his trailer.  The strong cast includes Adrien Brody, Jason Sudeikis, Jason Bateman, Edie Falco, and the late Ray Liotta.

Guy Ritchie's The Covenent:  All about the Afghanistan exodus.   Always suspect when the director uses his name in the title.

Love Again:  The title alone...

Guardians of the Galaxy, Volume 3:  Volume?  They're movies, not books.

Book Club - The Next Chapter:   Four female acting legends in a sequel that is probably nothing more than a travelogue of Italy.

Super Mario Bros. Movie:  Never played the game in the first place.

Hypnotic:   Stars Ben Affleck who is hardly the title.

Fast X: Fast and Furious Number Ten, for those who can't figure out the title.

Are You There, God?  It's Me, Margaret:  A Judy Blume book now a movie and probably strictly for teenage girls.

Transformers - Rise of the Beasts:  How many of these movies are there?

Evil Dead Rise:  Rinse spit repeat.

Knights of the Zodiac:   Astrological stuff bores me.

Blackberry:   Does anybody still have one of these??

It Ain't Over:  Blog review coming.  A beautiful documentary about Yogi Berra.

Master Gardener:  A character study about...wait for it...a horticulturist.

Party Games - Spring Awakenings:  Nothing like a sequel that you never knew about the first movie.

Stay Awake:  All about opioid addictions in a documentary that might give you the same side effects.

Robots: A romcom about a couple who hook up with their robot doubles.  Which one has the lug nuts?

Sanctuary:  A rich guy and his dominatrix.   Hmmmm.

Dinner last night:  Sandwich.

Len's Recipe of the Month - May 2023

Italian Meat Loaf.

Okay, it's really one big meatball.   But so good.

Preheat your oven to 400 degrees.

Get one pound of ground beef (85%) and one pound of ground Italian sweet sausage.   Combine in a bowl.

Here's where you get some anger out.   Take a sleeve of about 35 saltine crackers.  Place in a bag and smash it to a fine powder.  Add to the beef.

Now add 3/4 cup whole milk.  Two beaten eggs.  Some oregano or Italian seasoning.   Add salt, pepper, and chili flakes.   Lastly, add 1 cup of grated Parmesan Pecorino.   

Get your hands in there and make a nice loaf.

Spray some cooking oil on your favorite baking dish.  Cover the loaf with a jar of your favorite tomato sauce.  Foil it and place in an oven for 60 to 70 minutes or an internal temperature of 160 degrees.

Uncover and add some shredded Fontina cheese to the top.   Put it back in the oven for another 15 minutes.

It is important to let the meat set for `5 minutes before you cut it.   Make sure you serve each piece with a spoonful of sauce.

Enjoy your big-ass meatball.

Dinner last night:  Sandwich

This Date in History - May 17

 

On the occasion of what would have been his 68th birthday, we salute the late Bill Paxton.

1521:  EDWARD STAFFORD, 3RD DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM, IS EXECUTED FOR TREASON.

What happened to the first two Dukes of Buckingham?

1536:  GEORGE BOLEYN, 2ND VISCOUNT ROCHFORD IS EXECUTED FOR TREASON.

What happened to the 1st Viscount Rochford?

1536:  HENRY VIII AND ANNE BOLEYN'S MARRIAGE IS ANNULLED.

But they were not executed.

1580:  ANNE OF DENMARK IS CROWNED QUEEN OF SCOTLAND.

Isn't she being a bit of a hog?  Two countries?

1673:  LOUIS JOLLIET AND JACQUES MARQUETTE BEGIN EXPLORING THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER.

Gee, this water is filthy.

1792:  THE NEW YORK STOCK EXCHANGE IS FORMED.

And immediately finished the day at an all time low.

1805:  MUHAMMAD ALI BECOMES WALI OF EGYPT.

Gee, that boxer was old.

1814:  OCCUPATION OF MONACO CHANGES FROM FRENCH TO AUSTRIAN.

So it went back to French at some point?

1875:  ARISTIDES WINS THE FIRST KENTUCKY DERBY.

I assume this was a horse.

1886:  BUSINESSMAN JOHN DEERE DIES.

Well, with a tractor, he was easy to bury.

1911:  ACTRESS MAUREEN O'SULLIVAN IS BORN.

Me, Tarzan.  You, toddler.

1915:  THE LAST BRITISH LIBERAL PARTY GOVERNMENT FAILS.

Don't they all?

1939:  THE COLUMBIA LIONS AND THE PRINCETON TIGERS PLAY IN THE US' FIRST TELEVISED SPORTING EVENT, A COLLEGIATE BASEBALL GAME.

Was this also the first Ballantine beer commercial?

1940:  WORLD WAR II - GERMANY OCCUPIES BRUSSELS, BELGIUM.

Springtime for Sprouts.

1954:  THE US SUPREME COURT HANDS DOWN A UNANIMOUS DECISION IS BROWN VERSUS BOARD OF EDUCATION.

TKO in ten rounds.

1955:  ACTOR BILL PAXTON IS BORN.

Good actor.   Wonderful performance in Apollo 13.

1956:  COMIC BOB SAGET IS BORN.

The house got fuller.

1967:  SIX-DAY WAR - PRESIDENT NASSER OF EGYPT DEMANDS DISMANTLING OF THE PEACE KEEPING UN EMERGENCY FORCE IN EGYPT.

Does the UN ever manage to keep peace anywhere??

1973:  THE WATERGATE TELEVISED HEARINGS BEGIN IN THE US SENATE.

There go my episodes of Tattletales.

1974:  POLICE IN LOS ANGELES RAID THE SYMBIONESE LIBERATION ARMY HEADQUARTERS, KILLING SIX MEMBERS.

Meanwhile, whatever happened to Patty Hearst?

1992:  BANDLEADER LAWRENCE WELK DIES.

And a one and a two...

2004:  THE FIRST LEGAL SAME-SEX MARRIAGES IN THE US ARE PERFORMED IN THE STATE OF MASSACHUSETTS.

As opposed to illegal ones?

2004:  ACTOR TONY RANDALL DIES.

Interviewed him once.   Really nice man.

2005:  COMIC FRANK GORSHIN DIES.

???????????????   Am obscure joke.   Think about it.

2011:  BASEBALL STAR HARMON KILLEBREW DIES.

And still went 1 for 3.

2012:  SINGER DONNA SUMMER DIES.

Last dance, last chance...

2022:  MUSIC COMPOSER VANGELIS DIES.

The chariot fire has been doused.

Dinner last night:  Lasagna.