Len's Recipe of the Month - April 2024

 

Oh, no, I didn't.  Oh, yes, I did.  I figured out a dish to use Italian sausage without using peppers and onions.   Okay, this has one onion.

I've been seeing this recipe on-line recently and I was intrigued to attempt this rustic Italian dish.

Sausage, onion, and....grapes.   Yep, grapes.  You wind up with this wonderfully sweet yet satisfying concoction.   And if you mix in some hot links, the savory-ness will go off the chart.

First off, melt a stick of butter in an oven-safe pan and Dutch oven.  Slice one sweet onion and let it get happy with the butter for five minutes on medium heat.

Add four to six Italian sausage links...whichever one you like better.  Now some on-line chefs say to parboil the sausage first to render the fat out first.   But, if you go to a good butcher and get decent meat product, this is unnecessary.  Nestle the sausage with the onion and let them brown for about ten minutes.  You might need to deglaze the concoction with some wine at this point.

Now add two plus cups of seedless grapes.  I used just red, but you can mix and match.  Surround the sausage and the onion with the grapes and put into a pre-heated oven with the temperature at 425.  Cook uncovered for about a half hour.

Remove the dish and drizzle with some balsamic vinegar and serve.

A wonderful variation on one of my favorite dishes.  Enjoy.

Dinner last night:  Chicken salad.

Monday Morning Video Laugh - April 29, 2024

 Your typical nail salon.

Dinner last night:  Sausage, onions, and grapes.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - Falling in Love, Sort of

 

The photo above is an original taken just last year when I was back East. I still have this badge. One of those "changing images" things. If you look at it one way, it's the Met logo. If you look at it another way, it morphs into a combination of Casey Stengel and Jesus Christ. What's remarkable about this little device?

It was the first Met souvenir I ever purchased. On my very first trip to rainy Shea Stadium which we discussed last Sunday. I was allowed a scorecard and one item with a price tag of up to three dollars. This little badge was probably no more than 75 cents. Obviously, I have it to this day. Although, truth be told, I am wearing it a lot less now than I did back in that momentous summer.

I spent the rest of the money that infamous night on a Met Yearbook which cost about 50 cents back then. (The 2010 edition is $12.00). I devoured its contents the rest of the summer. Curling up against the kitchen fan, I committed to memory the career won-loss record of Galen Cisco and the career stolen bases of Joe Christopher. Sad to say, however, there is no recent photo of that particular Met Yearbook. During an extended losing streak the very next season, I ripped it to shreds. Today, it is now worth over 200 bucks on eBay.

Such was the emotional ebb and flow of a new baseball fan.

The only problem with my new love affair is that I was virtually alone in my passion. Oh, sure, my dad had his ticket punched for the Met bandwagon. But, around my little world, few others had. Like the fact that I was the lone Protestant in a neighborhood full of Catholics, I was the solitary Met fan on a block crammed with Yankee fans. And, because of my fandom, I was treated like a pariah.

"The Mets are a bunch of faggots."

Er, okay, same to you.

"They suck the big one."

Er, okay, same to you.

"They fuckin' blow."

Thank you for your opinion. I almost always had to slink away. Except for my always amenable childhood buddy, Leo, my Mets and I were about as welcome as a skunk at a picnic. Leo was a Yankee fan as well, but certainly much more tolerant than the rest of the angry mob of moppets. I might as well been living in the days of the Old Testament so that I could be easily stoned in the village square.

So, I had to love the Mets in secret. Quietly. By myself. In the sanctity of my own living room. Or so I thought.

Enter my uncle.

My father's older brother used to blow through our house on his way to and from work. He, too, was a baseball fan and had himself gravitated to the Mets side of the New York fan ledger. On the surface, he would have appeared to be a great conversation for me. Chatting up the Mets.

Er, no. My uncle would be my very first experience with a typical New York baseball fan. The guy that regularly calls WFAN today as "Vinnie from Bayonne." The fan that looks at the sports life as a half-full glass and sees it as almost empty. And with a crack in the side. And dirty water inside. I couldn't win.

"What's wrong with those Mets of yours???"

Er, are they really mine? I don't officially own them.

"They stand at the plate and don't take the bats off their shoulders."

Um, I'm also not the team's batting coach. Just to be clear.

"I could catch a ball better with my eyes closed."

Okay, let's try that. Next time I see you taking a nap on the sofa, maybe I'll throw a ball at you.

I had no place to turn. I was Romeo lost in the House of Capulet. The only people I could talk to about the Mets were their announcers Ralph Kiner, Bob Murphy, and Lindsey Nelson. Except they never talked back.

My dad and I did get to another Met game that first season. This time, the Rambler box seats behind the visitors dugout were not available. My father had to make due on his own by walking up to the box office. We were right behind home plate.

In the upper deck.

As we headed up the escalator, my father looked down at the ground floor which was quickly disappearing from view.

"Your nose is going to bleed."

Thanks, Dad. Let's think happy thoughts.

This was one of those famous twi-night doubleheaders that had been forced by a rainout earlier in the season. I was in my glory. With my scorecard and wearing my Shea Stadium Mets badge. And seeing two games in one night! Double the hot dogs, double the fun.

"Is your nose bleeding yet?"

Er, no. That's the ketchup on my French Fries. Frankly, I didn't care how high our seats were. I could see perfectly fine. There were over 45,000 other fans there, but I was the most important one. I was THE Met fan.

My beloved team got shut out in the first contest, but scored four runs in the bottom of the eighth to win the second game 6-5.

My first ever Met win in person. The opponent that night?

Ironically, the Los Angeles Dodgers. As a matter of fact, the winning pitcher in the complete game shutout was none other than Don Drysdale.

The Mets lost 109 games that year. I didn't care. I was now a full fledged baseball fan subscribing to the tried and true adage.

I couldn't wait till next year.

Dinner last night:   Double Double from In and Out Burger.

Classic Movie Trailer of the Month - April 2024

 Part cartoon, part trailer.  Totally wonderful from about 60 years ago.

Dinner last night:  Ham and gruyere sandwich from Clementine's.

Forty Eight Years Ago Yesterday

 God bless Rick Monday.

Dinner last night:  Leftover pasta.

Paul Lynde to Block

When you recuperate from knee surgery, you find yourself watching old game shows...just like I did when I was home from school in the fourth grade.  The Buzzr network has a lot of good ones, but, for some bizarre reason, no vintage "Hollywood Squares."   And this got me to remembering the brilliance of Paul Lynde.

Peter Marshall: In the movies, Frankenstein's monster was always big and ugly. And he had lots of scars. What was his biggest fear?

Paul Lynde: That the girls would be turned off by his big nuts!

Peter Marshall: Can you get 12 pounds of feathers out of a goose?

Paul Lynde: I got them in there, didn't I?

Peter Marshall: According to the old song, "At night, when you're asleep, into your tent I'll creep." Who am I?

Paul Lynde: The scoutmaster!

Peter Marshall: In television, who lived in Doodyville?

Paul Lynde: Oh, the Ty-De-Bowl Man.

Peter Marshall: According to research at USC, is it okay for your marriage to fantasize that your wife is Farrah Fawcett Majors?

Paul Lynde: If that doesn't work, try Lee Majors!

Peter Marshall: You've gone from egg, to larvae, to pupae. What's next?

Paul Lynde: A shave and a shower and off to work!

Peter Marshall: Who are Mark Trail, Steve Roper and Tank McNamara?

Paul Lynde: Oh, you found my address book!

Peter Marshall: To Roy Rogers, what is Cowboy Heaven?

Paul Lynde: Seven minutes with Tammy Wynette!

Peter Marshall: Paul, what is the primary problem that develops with men's zippers?

Paul Lynde: Rust.

Peter Marshall: Is it possible to drink too much water?

Paul Lynde: Yes, it's called drowning!

Peter Marshall: True or false, Dan Rowan hasn't spoken to either his daughter or Peter Lawford since their marriage?

Paul Lynde: I don't think anyone has seen them except for room service.

Peter Marshall: Mama Cass Ellott has an official royal title. What is it?

Paul Lynde: Tubby!

Peter Marshall: The state of New York is repainting something that will be 90 next may. What are they repainting?

Paul Lynde: Arlene Francis.

Peter Marshall: During the 18th century it was common for a bride to sell something at her wedding reception to help pay for the cost of the wedding. What did she sell?

Paul Lynde: Her first born.

Peter Marshall: Is Billy Graham considered a good dresser?

Paul Lynde: No, but he's a terrific end table.

Peter Marshall: Why was Daniel thrown to the den of lions?

Paul Lynde: For jaywalking in Jerusalem.

Peter Marshall: You are leaving Hawaii by boat. Legend says that you'll return if you do something. Do what?

Paul Lynde: I guess have Don Ho's baby.

Peter Marshall: According to Mythology, if a Sphinx asked a man a question, and the man answered it incorrectly, what woud happen?

Paul Lynde: Circle gets the square.

Peter Marshall: The newest best selling album by this top star is entitled "To Russell, My Brother, Whom I Slept With". Who's the recording star?

Paul Lynde: Little Baby Rose Marie.

Peter Marshall: Olivia De Havilland once sat on something in a movie that Roy Rogers says he grew to love. What is it?

Paul Lynde: A box of Milk Duds.

Peter Marshall: Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire recently announced that after 30 years, they'regoing to do something together one more time. What?

Paul Lynde: Trade hairpieces.

Peter Marshall: Ann Landers recently wrote a book titled "How To Tell The Difference Between Love And..." what?

Paul Lynde: A kidney infection.

Peter Marshall: According to the song classic, "Things aren't always as bad as they seem if you..." do what?

Paul Lynde: Put a bag over her head.

Peter Marshall: Way up in the frozen north, what was Eric The Red's famous discovery?

Paul Lynde: Little Boy Blue.

Peter Marshall: Richard Burton wants one very much, but Liz is reported to be afraid to give him one. One what?

Paul Lynde: The Certs breath test.

Peter Marshall: Does Mark Spitz believe swimming in the nude helps you go faster?

Paul Lynde: Well, it's easy to steer.

Peter Marshall: Eddie Fisher says that he hasn't had one in eight years, but he's looking. For what?

Paul Lynde: Oh, an accompanist who takes Mastercharge.

Peter Marshall: Howard Cosell's wife recently said in an interview that her husband tells her this at least five times a day. What does he say to her?

Paul Lynde: Is my toupee back from the cleaners?

Peter Marshall: True or false, Paul...champagne glasses were designed to resemble Marie Antoinette's bosom?

Paul Lynde: And we have Karen Valentine to thank for the shot glass!

Peter Marshall: According to Compton's Encyclopedia, when Columbus returned from his famous trip, he brought Queen Isabella six naked savages, some animals, some plants, and something valuable. What was it?

Paul Lynde: I'll say the six naked savages.

Peter Marshall: Julie Nixon Eisenhower recently told reporters "You don't know what a relief it is not to worry about having them around all the time!". What are "they?"

Paul Lynde: Oh, Mom and Dad.

Peter Marshall: When is it a good idea tp put your pantyhose in the microwave oven for two minutes?

Paul Lynde: When your house is surrounded by the police.

Peter Marshall: In the Bible, King David asked beautiful and wise Abigail to do something after her first husband died. What?

Paul Lynde: Get him out of the room.

Peter Marshall: In the United States, what do we call the number one followed by 12 zeros?

Paul Lynde: Dean Martin And The Golddiggers.

Dinner last night:  Rigatoni and meatballs.

This Date in History - April 24

 

Happy birthday, Shirley McLaine.  It's also Barbra Streisand's birthday but I like you more so it's your photo I use.

1479 BC:   THUTMOSE III ASCENDS TO THE THRONE OF EGYPT, ALTHOUGH POWER EFFECTIVELY SHIFTS TO HATSHEPSUT.

Is it me or do these sound like cartoon characters?

1184 BC:  TRADITIONAL DATE FOR THE FALL OF TROY.

And the untraditional date is?

1342:  POPE BENEDICT XII DIES.

Dies.  This one didn't quit.

1558:  MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS, MARRIES THE DAUPHIN OF FRANCE, FRANCOIS, AT NOTRE DAME DE PARIS.

She married Flipper???  Oh, wait, I read that wrong.

1704:  THE FIRST REGULAR NEWSPAPER IN THE UNITED STATES, THE NEWS-LETTER, IS PUBLISHED IN BOSTON.

And immediately trashed the Red Sox.

1800:  THE UNITED STATES LIBRARY OF CONGRESS IS ESTABLISHED WHEN PRESIDENT JOHN ADAMS SIGNS LEGISLATION TO APPROPRIATE $5,000 TO PURCHASE BOOKS.

So what else would you put in a library?  Hammers?

1885:  SHARPSHOOTER ANNIE OAKLEY WAS HIRED BY NATE SALSBURY TO BE A PART OF BUFFALO BILL'S WILD WEST SHOW.

You can't get a woman without a gun.

1907:  HERSHEYPARK, FOUNDED BY MILTON S. HERSHEY FOR THE EXCLUSIVE USE OF HIS EMPLOYEES, IS OPENED.

Until he figured out how much dough he could make by going outside the company.

1913:  THE WOOLWORTH SKYSCRAPER IN NEW YORK CITY IS OPENED.

They nickeled and dimed the construction costs.

1914:  MOVIE PRODUCER WILLIAM CASTLE IS BORN.

Scream.  Scream as loud as you can!!!

1914:  COOK JUSTIN WILSON IS BORN.

I guarantee.

1915:  THE ARREST OF 250 ARMENIAN INTELLECTUALS AND COMMUNITY LEADERS IN ISTANBUL MARKS THE BEGINNING OF THE ARMENIAN GENOCIDE.

There goes Glendale, California.

1916:  ERNEST SHACKLETON AND FIVE MEN OF THE IMPERIAL TRANS-ANTARCTIC EXPEDITION LAUNCH A LIFEBOAT FROM UNINHABITED ELEPHANT ISLAND IN THE SOUTHERN OCEAN TO ORGANIZE A RESCUE FOR THE ICE-TRAPPED SHIP ENDURANCE.

Long historical sentences like that don't necessarily prompt a funny joke.

1926:  THE TREATY OF BERLIN IS SIGNED.  GERMANY AND THE SOVIET UNION EACH PLEDGE NEUTRALITY IN THE EVENT OF AN ATTACK ON THE OTHER BY A THIRD PARTY FOR THE NEXT FIVE YEARS.

But, after those five years, watch the hell out.

1933:  NAZI GERMANY BEGINS ITS PERSECUTION OF JEHOVAH'S WITNESSES.

Somebody must have rang Hitler's doorbell on a Sunday afternoon.

1934:  ACTRESS SHIRLEY MCLAINE IS BORN.

For the seventh time.

1940:  AUTHOR SUE GRAFTON IS BORN.

B as in Birthday.

1942:  ACTRESS BARBRA STREISAND IS BORN.

See, Babs, what happens when you're a big mouth.  You don't get your picture on the top of my blog when it's your birthday.

1953:  WINSTON CHURCHILL IS KNIGHTED BY QUEEN ELIZABETH II.

As if she has anything else to do in a given day.

1957:  THE SUEZ CANAL IS REOPENED FOLLOWING THE INTRODUCTION OF PEACEKEEPERS TO THE REGION.

Has there ever been a day of peace in this region????

1967:  COSMONAUT VLADIMIR KOMAROV DIES IN SOYUZ I WHEN ITS PARACHUTE FALLS TO OPEN.  HE IS THE FIRST HUMAN TO DUE DURING A SPACE MISSION.

If it's me, I'm not looking to get on Soyuz II.

1967:  DURING THE VIETNAM AR, AMERICAN GENERAL WILLIAM WESTMORELAND SAYS THAT THE ENEMY HAD GAINED SUPPORT IN THE US THAT GIVES HIM THAT HE CAN WIN POLITICALLY THAT WHICH HE CANNOT WIN MILITARILY.

And the entire country says "huh."

1974:  COMEDIAN BUD ABBOTT DIES.

Nobody's on first.

1980:  EIGHT US SERVICEMEN DIE IN OPERATION EAGLE CLAW AS THEY ATTEMPT TO END THE IRAN HOSTAGE CRISIS.

Should have had the folks from Argo in charge.

1986:  SOCIALITE WALLIS SIMPSON DIES.

Wife of King Edward VIII and grandmother of Homer I.

1990:  GRUINARD ISLAND, SCOTLAND, IS OFFICIALLY DECLARED FREE OF THE ANTHRAX DISEASE AFTER 48 YEARS OF QUARANTINE.

They must have run out of milk and bread years ago.

1996:  IN THE US, THE ANTI-TERRORISM AND EFFECTIVE DEATH PENALTY ACT OF 1996 IS INTRODUCED.

That worked well.

1997:  COMEDIAN PAT PAULSEN DIES.

The only Presidential candidate I could ever get behind.

2004:  BUSINESSWOMAN ESTEE LAUDER DIES.

My mother wore her scents exclusively.  For those of you who care.

2005:  CARDINAL JOSEPHY RATZINGER IS INAUGURATED AS THE 265TH POPE OF THE ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH TAKING THE NAME POPE BENEDICT XVI.

Ratz-singa.  He's the Pope, the Pope with the Midas touch....  BTW, don't get attached to him.

2005:  SNUPPY, THE WORLD'S FIRST CLONED DOG, IS BORN IN SOUTH KOREA.

And promptly cooked for that night's dinner.

Dinner last night:  Ramen noodle soup.

Hollywood Then and Now - April 2024

The more things change...yeah, they stay the same.   

One of my truly favorite TV shows was "The Wonder Years" set on Long Island in 1968.  Meanwhile, they never ever got out of Burbank even if the exterior of the house looks so...well...Long Island.

And nothing has really changed with the exterior since they wrapped production approximately 30 years ago.

Yep, Los Angeles is nothing but one big back lot.

Dinner last night:  Hamburger.

Monday Morning Video Laugh - April 22, 2024

 You can always depend upon live TV.

Dinner last night:  Leftover Chinese food.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - My First Baseball Summer

 

Travel back with me again to where we left off last Sunday.

I was basking in the afterglow of my first days in love with the New York Mets.

Despite my father who probably was hoping I would follow in his footsteps and pinstripes with the New York Yankees.

Those first months in Metdom were all consuming. I devoured anything and everything about the team. I figured that, to be a true Met fan, I first needed to memorize all the uniform numbers. Done.

I tried to commit to memory their batting averages. Done. But, wait. I soon discovered that the numbers changed every day. Oops. Well, a new baseball fan was bound to make a mistake or two.

I even tried to impress my dad with my baseball knowledge.

"Mickey Mantle wears number 7," I announced to him with pride.

Dad was starting to smart a little less about my baseball devotion. It wasn't long before he made the ultimate parental sacrifice.

He started to pay attention to the Mets. I guess that he figured if his son was this rabid, he might as well get involved as well. And, in short order, he got sucked in as badly as I did. I don't remember if there was a formal ceremony, but my father became a Met fan. He joined me on weekends in front of the TV. Games immediately popped on the radio as soon as we got into the car.

On a very hot Father's Day, my family made their usual holiday visitation to see all the dead relatives at Ferncliff Cemetery. Alongside the street where "Uncle Fritz" was buried, everybody hopped out of our car to do the necessary grave trimming. Grandma bounded out with hedgeclippers in hand. But my dad and I sat in the car, glued to the Met game on the radio. This was no ordinary contest. My father explained.

"This is history happening. The guy has a perfect game in the ninth inning."

I was a baseball fan, but I still didn't the complete significance.

"But the Mets are losing."

Minutes later, we listened to Phillies pitcher Jim Bunning strike out Met John Stephenson for the final out in this masterpiece. I didn't understand why this was such a big deal, but Dad did. That was good enough for me. Outside, Grandma continued to pull weeds out of "Uncle Fritz" and called out to my grandfather for assistance.

"Pop, get the shears!"

With summer upon us, my lobbying began in earnest. Since Dad was now on board with the Shea Faithful, it was time to complete the circle.

I wanted to go to a game at my other church. Shea Stadium.

For one of the only times in our lives together, Dad didn't use his usual response to our going any place.

"It's too far."

"There's too much traffic."

"It's too hot/too cold."

I guess he really wanted to go, too. None of those old standards seemingly applied. And he had a direct connection to some nifty seats. The guy he carpooled to work with had a wife who worked for Rambler, then the "Official Car of the New York Mets." Her dealership had a season box right behind the visiting dugout. She got four seats for a July Friday night. Her husband and her son. My father and his son.

Me.

I counted the days, the hours, the minutes, and the seconds. I started to plan out the Met rotation to see who would be pitching on this hallowed night. It would be Jack Fisher, wearing my favorite baseball number to this day. #22. This date would cement the love affair for all time. The Mets. Me. Together in the same place. I could reach out and touch them. Well, sort of.

This would be the best day of my life.

I could barely sleep the night before. Full of awe and wonder?

Nope, it was the rain pelting my bedroom window.

How could this be happening? God, why have you foresaken me? I mean, I went to Sunday School every week. I said my prayers every night. Rain??? Doesn't everybody in the universe know that I'm supposed to go to Shea Stadium tonight? And I dreaded the inevitable. This was totally playing into my father's back-up excuse for the usual trilogy of reasons why not to do something.

"It's too wet."

Uh oh.

My father had already taken the night off from work. His friend still wanted to go. The game was still on. Downpour or no downpour, we popped into the car around 6PM for the trip to Flushing.

I can still remember traversing the Bronx Whitestone Bridge with the sparkling lights of Shea piercing the raindrops on our windshield. This is where I was going. I had a ticket. Nothing could stop me now.

Thunderclap.

Lightning bolt.

Perhaps my first utterance of a curse word.

"Shit."

Not audible enough to be slapped across the kisser.

When we arrived at the blue and orange aluminum paneled palace, the grounds were a soggy mess. One puddle after another. We huddled under an umbrella. The game would be delayed but only a little. I stared with amazement at everything I saw as I entered Shea for the first time.

"Scorecard, scorecard here."

I wanted one. I would learn how to score that summer.

The souvenir stands. The amalgamated smell of hot dogs, pretzels, popcorn, and spilled beer. Like no other aroma. The escalators that raise up to the heavens. Well, in my case, the field level behind the third base dugout.

Billy Crystal has made a career talking about his first visual memory of Yankee Stadium. Walking up the ramp of darkness and suddenly emerging in the sun-kissed stands and the field with the brightness shade of green that God ever created.

Unfortunately, it was a little different for me that evening at Shea. Coming out of the tunnel onto the field level stands, I saw more darkness. And rain. And a soaked canvas covering the playing area. Indeed, having seen the Mets in nothing but Zenith black and white hues, the colors at that moment were almost the same. Muted, dull, and unimpressive.

It would grow on me in a matter of minutes.

Looming up in front of me was the gigantic scoreboard, which is spotlighted in the original artist rendering that tops today's entry. To me, at my tender age, it was nothing short of magical. Colors danced around the white backdrop. It had baseball scores from all around the country. I looked at the Met lineup and immediately recited to all who would listen those players we would be privileged to see that night.

"Number 10, second base, Rod Kanehl. Number 42, centerfield, Larry Elliot. Number 23, right field, Joe Christopher. Number 2, in left field, George Altman. Number 25, at first base, Frank Thomas. Number 12, catching, Jesse Gonder. Number 1, at third base, Charlie Smith. Number 11, playing shortstop, Roy McMillan. Number 22, and pitching, Jack Fisher."

With a less squeaky and even less juvenile voice, I could have replaced the public address announcer.

Around the third inning, little obnoxious Me decided to use my proximity to the Milwaukee Braves dugout and give them a child's version of Hell. No epithets. Just some good natured booing. At one point, their third base coach, Jo Jo White, was amused by me. As he headed back to the dugout, he stuck his hand in his pocket. And pulled out a handful of Bazooka Bubble Gum pieces. He tossed them into a rain puddle on the dugout roof. I grabbed them quickly.

The comic strips were soaked and not legible. The gum, however, was delicious. And I suddenly didn't hate the Milwaukee Braves so much.

Truth be told, other than the sense of shock and awe, I remember little about the game itself. Retrosheet tells me the Mets lost, 8-5, in front of a crowd that numbered 20,646.

As far as I was concerned, it was me, my dad, and 20,644 other people.

This game was my first. It would not be my last.

To be continued.

Dinner last night:  Beef with broccoli.

Classic TV Theme Song of the Week - April 2024

 This was lost on me back in the day.  We only had a Black and White.

Dinner last night:  Pulled pork sandwich at Dodger Stadium.

The Checkout Line at Walmart

 

Looking for a new job?  She has first crack.

 The gun is loaded.  So is he.

 Cellulite cream is in aisle 3.

 Too much beer will make you pee your pants.  If you're wearing some.

Windy out?

Pretty in pink.  Except this ain't Molly Ringwald.

Thanks for the warning.

"Whadaya mean my account is closed?"

No words available.

Too, too, too, too old for your look.

This guy bugs me.

 Exercise equipment is in aisle 8.

Dinner last night:  Leftover lasagna.

Who Can I Talk To?

 

Here's a phone center for your typical company that deals with the public in some shape or form.

Notice anything?

The photo was either taken in the middle of the night.   Or might simply show us just how people used to work there at one time.

Only to be replaced by that most hated of all telephone responders.

The recorded voice.

We've all been there and it's getting worse, I think.  We're always told the following:

"Please stay on the line.  Your call is important to us."

Well, apparently not.  Because if they really cared, I'd be talking to a living, breathing human.

There are a number of places and services I need to call from time to time.   Banks.  Health insurance.  Wi Fi provider.   None of them connects you to a real person within the first five minutes of the call.   Of course, the very first thing you are asked?

"To continue in English, press one."

It is a matter of time before this option is switched over to...

"To continue in any language but English, press one."

Of course, you are then forced to listen through a myriad of options and numbers.   The one you are calling about is invariably last.   But, always, you hear...

"Please listen to our menu because it has recently changed."

What if I liked the old menu and list of options?   Did I have a choice in this?  What happened to the nice lady I talked to back in 2005?

I am told by one friend that all automated menus include this mention of recent changes.   It gives the illusion that they are technologically ahead of the curve.  Even if that same message has been there since the Clinton administration.

When these recordings offer you the ability to respond in voice, I immediately demonstrate no patience.   I start screaming into the phone.

"Representative!"

"Agent!"

"Fucking human being!!!"

Sometimes, it works.  Most times, it does not.

I give kudos to one company I deal with.  Verizon.   Oh, they start with a recorded announcement but you can circumvent that pretty quickly.   And when you do get a live body, there is an added perk.   

The person is based in the United States.   They speak perfect English.   And they thank me for being a customer since 2002.

Can you imagine that?  Only in America.

But, most of the time, only in India.

Dinner last night: Teriyaki beef.

This Date in History - April 17

 

Happy birthday, Teri Austin.  Don't know who she is?  Looking at that picture, guys, don't you wish you did?

69:  AFTER THE FIRST BATTLE OF BEDRIACUM, VITELLIUS BECOMES ROMAN EMPEROR.

Vitellius also won't leave your hair greasy.

1080:  KING OF DENMARK HARALD III DIES AND IS SUCCEEDED BY CANUTE IV, WHO WOULD LATER BE THE FIRST DANE TO BE CANONIZED.

The second Dane to be canonized was Victor Borge.

1397:  GEOFFREY CHAUCER TELLS THE CANTERBURY TALES FOR THE FIRST TIME.

And, in a fashion, indirectly invented the seventh grade book report.

1492:  SPAIN AND CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS SIGN THE CAPITULATIONS OF SANTA FE FOR HIS VOYAGE TO ASIA TO ACQUIRE SPICES.

Asia?  Yeah, he was a little off.

1521:  TRIAL OF MARTIN LUTHER OVER HIS TEACHINGS BEGINS DURING THE ASSEMBLY OF THE DIET OF WORMS.  

I'll take my worms medium rare, please.

1524:  GIOVANNI DA VERRAZZANO REACHES NEW YORK HARBOR.

"What a nice-a spot-a for my bridge."

1707:  SIR RALPH ABERCROMBY ATTACKS SAN JUAN, PUERTO RICO IN WHAT WOULD BE ONE OF THE LARGEST INVASIONS OF THE SPANISH TERRITORIES IN AMERICA.

No sign of Fith.

1864:  DURING THE AMERICAN CIVIL WAR, THE BATTLE OF PLYMOUTH BEGINS.  

Plymouth...the home of the 1973 Duster.

1897:  THE AURORA, TEXAS UFO INCIDENT.

If you're going to see a flying saucer, you might as well live in Texas.

1896:  VENTRILOQUIST SENOR WENCES IS BORN.

All right?  All right.

1897:  AUTHOR THORNTON WILDER IS BORN.

From Her Womb to Our Town.

1905:  ACTOR ARTHUR LAKE IS BORN.

Blondie!!!!!!!!!

1907:  THE ELLIS ISLAND IMMIGRATION CENTER PROCESSES 11,747 PEOPLE, MORE THAN ON ANY OTHER DAY.

In 2013, we get that many illegals in one week.

1918:  ACTOR WILLIAM HOLDEN IS BORN.

Born in a trunk...died on a coffee table.

1923:  JOURNALIST HARRY REASONER IS BORN.

Journalist.  Remember those?

1945:  BRAZILIAN FORCES LIBERATE THE TOWN OF MONTESE, ITALY FROM GERMAN NAZI FORCES.

When you need the help of Brazil, you know your army sucks.

1957:  ACTRESS TERI AUSTIN IS BORN.

One of the best villains on "Knots Landing," that's who.

1961:  A GROUP OF CIA FINANCED AND TRAINED CUBAN EXILES LANDS AT THE BAY OF PIGS IN CUBA WITH THE AIM OF OUSTING FIDEL CASTRO.

Yeah, that worked well.

1964:  THE FORD MUSTANG IS INTRODUCED TO THE NORTH AMERICAN MARKET.

Pedal to the metal.

1969:  SIRHAN SIRHAN IS CONVICTED OF ASSASSINATING ROBERT F. KENNEDY.

So guilty his mother named him twice.

1970:  THE ILL-FATED APOLLO 13 SPACECRAFT RETURNS TO EARTH SAFELY.

Lousy mission, great movie.

1973:  GEORGE LUCAS BEGINS WRITING THE TREATMENT FOR STAR WARS.

Dumbest agent in town:  "That will never sell."

1986:  THE THREE HUNDRED AND THIRTY FIVE YEARS' WAR BETWEEN THE NETHERLANDS AND THE ISLES OF SCILLY ENDS.

Talk about your long-standing grudges.

1987:  COMEDIAN DICK SHAWN DIES.

It's a Dead, Dead, Dead, Dead World.

1998;  LINDA MCCARTNEY DIES.

A health nut who didn't make it to the age of 60.

2003:  NUTRITIONIST ROBERT ATKINS DIES.

Healthy living claims another.

2003:  PHILANTHROPIST JOHN PAUL GETTY JR. DIES.

And being rich is no guarantee either.

2007:  ACTRESS KITTY CARLISLE DIES.

Apparently, long black gloves also are deadly.

2011:  ACTOR MICHAEL SARRAZIN DIES.

I saw him once in a super market.  That was not enough to keep him alive.

2016:  ACTRESS DORIS ROBERTS DIES.

Terrific character on "Everybody Loves Raymond."

2018:  FIRST LADY BARBARA BUSH DIES.

She looked old when she was young.

Dinner last night:   Hamburger.

Carry On, Nurse

 

Is it National Nurse Day?  Well, it should be.   Because I have a story.

So far, 2024 has been a crapper of a year for me.   Some reasons I will explain here eventually.  Others maybe not until the legal events associated are in my rear view mirror.   But here's one I would like to share.

About ten days ago, I started with a bizarr-o ailment.   I would lie my head down in bed and proceed to start coughing incessantly.  A dry hack and a resulting wheeze that sounded like little people were living in my throat.  Lift my head up.  It would go away.   Put my head down and it would keep me up all night.  

Now, I have a very close childhood friend who had a long and successful career as a hospital nurse.   I was on the phone with her and she could hear it in my voice.

"Go get that checked out, please."

I promised I would.

"Call the doctor today."

Um.  Okay.

Now my internist in LA in a cooperative practice with about five other doctors is terrific.   When I call with an issue, I discuss it first with his wonderful assistant and she has him call me by the end of the day.  But this time, my guy was out for two days at a conference.  I told her that it could wait till next week.

She had the same kind of reluctance to wait.

"I hear it in your voice.  You need to come in today."

Um.  Okay.  Again.

So they squeezed me in.  Now I was going to be examined by a new member of my doctor's practice---a nurse-practitioner.  She was hired to do just what she was doing...filling in for a doctor as needed.

She did a thorough walk-through and exam of yours truly.  

"We need to get you a chest x-ray."

On Monday?

"No, today.   We have a machine down the hall."

I have always liked my doctor's service.  But today more than ever.

The nurse-practitioner went and go one of the other practice doctors to talk me through the x-ray and possible causes.   They're not quite sure of the definitive diagnosis but I am loaded up with an inhaler and a short term steroid.  

As I was leaving, the doctor's assistant called to me.

"That's why we had you come in today."

The nurse threw in her two cents.

"Because you never know."

When it comes to nurses, I do know.   They are a super important part of our American medical canvas.

Dinner last night:  Chicken salad plate.

Monday Morning Video Laugh - April 15, 2024

 When it was on its game, there was nothing better than Murphy Brown.

Dinner last night:  Ribeye steak.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - Meeting the Mets

 

The baseball season has started and the Mets look to be pretty ordinary from 3000 miles away.   I care less about them in 2024.  But when I first came to know baseball...welp, it was all Mets for me.

My journey with the Mets began when the now-demolished Shea Stadium opened. Truth be told, I had already attended a Met game the previous season while they were still at the Polo Grounds. I was part of a kiddie day camp and this was one of our field trips. We sat in the bleachers about five miles from home plate and, given I was still a baseball novice, I had no clue what was happening. 

And it would only have been slightly better if I could actually see the field. Since this was a day camp, we left by the fifth inning to board some yellow school bus.
But, thanks to Retrosheet.com, I have only recently discovered that my best friend from high school, ultimately my Shea Stadium seat mate for many years, was at the very same game. So, technically, it was our first Met game together. 

Separately. With one of us completely oblivious to the game.

My very, very, very first baseball game had taken place one month earlier. At Yankee Stadium. My father's cousin owned an oil burner company that had a season box. Since I had been home from school for about a week with an ear infection, I was not the ideal participant in this fun. But, my father, who had been a lifelong Yankee fan, wasn't going to miss this opportunity to introduce his son to baseball. 

Cotton balls were thrown in my ears and a Yankee hat was plopped onto my head. I was good to go. Retrosheet reminds me that Mickey Mantle hit a homerun that afternoon. I could have cared less. I was too busy making myself a nuisance by yelling into that Yankee megaphone which had been my popcorn holder.

For me, baseball was still something that pre-empted my late afternoon cartoons on WPIX Channel 11. What caused me to become a fan?

I got the German measles.

Cooped up again in the house for a week the following May, I was bored out of my mind. Having watched all the sitcom reruns I could in the morning, I sat in front of the TV set and turned the channel knob. Yes, folks, no remote control. I surveyed what was available on the six or seven channels. Yes, folks, only six or seven channels. I stumbled upon a New York Met day game being telecast from spanking new Shea Stadium. Hmmm. If nothing else, this would tide me over until the Popeye Show with Captain Jack McCarthy.

Staring at the black and white screen and listening to this guy named Lindsey Nelson, I started to pay attention to the action. I remember immediately being engaged when the Mets got two runs in the bottom of the first inning when somebody hit a homerun. Retrosheet tells me that it was Tim Harkness.

Gee, I'd only been following this sport for ten minutes and already my team was winning. How cool was that?

Ultimately, on that day, the Mets won 3-2 over the Cincinnati Reds. I had hung in for all nine innings. By myself. And I started to understand what was going on. 

That afternoon, the Popeye cartoons were even sweeter. I had myself a baseball team. I couldn't wait to tell my father.

Yankee fan Dad was nonplussed.

"You want to root for the Mets?? You know they stink."

Huh? They had just won.

"They're the worst team in baseball."

Huh? I liked them.

"Don't you want to go to another Yankee game?"

Huh?

Er, no, Dad, I don't. I'm a Met fan.

And so it began...

To be continued.

Dinner last night:  Orange chicken.

Classic Newsreel of the Month - April 2024

 Seventy nine years ago this month....

Dinner last night:  Soup.

A Different Guide of Movie Guide for This Weekend

 

Dinner last night:  Charcuterie board.

What The Hell Am I Binging Now...

 

You never know where I will wind up with my idle TV hours.   Usually revisiting something I watched in the past.

Here, the past equals 100 or so years ago.   Then, I was just hitting puberty and this series about the inner workings of an old fashioned Hollywood movie studio featured three starlets who...well...see the previous mention of puberty.

Truth be told, "Bracken's World" was one of my favorite TV shows to date and I loved everything about it.  It made me want to go into film and TV production.  Sadly. it lasted just a year-and-a-half and 41 episodes.  The studio head John Bracken went from being a disembodied voice on the phone to a real person body played by Leslie Nielsen.   It should have lasted longer and may have had they incorporated a soap-like plot.

Naturally, this is one that rarely gets rerun.  But, in 2024, everything has an infinite shelf life.  Thanks to some crafty You Tuber, the whole series is up and I am scrolling through one-by-one.   

And remembering what it was like to be 12.

Dinner last night:  Leftover lasagna from my freezer.