Last Week

Some of you are in the know. But, for those who are not, I'll update the annals of social media and this blog to cover the mass circulation. And forgive the highlighting of prose. I am toggling through several portals.

Last Thursday, I was at the gym with my trainer for the usual exercise regimen.

By Saturday night, I had a Ralph Kramden stomach and couldn't manage a simple flight of stairs.

By 330PM Monday, I was in the St. John's-Santa Monica version of "The Pitt" and hearing the three words "congestive heart failure." What the hell.

By Monday night, I was in ICU where they literally "can see you" at all times.

I was introduced to my new best friend, electrocardiologist Dr. Saarik Gupta, who determined I suddenly had an atrial flutter, which is the bastard second cousin of the more popular "a fib." This would necessitate a procedure that effectively rewires the heart and returns it to normal sinus rhythm as opposed to the Monday meter readings which made my heart resemble the 2008 stock market crash. Essentially a shock to the ticker.

And that's what Dr. Gupta and his team did Tuesday morning from 921 AM to 932 AM. It takes longer to get your order from In N Out Burger.

By Thursday night at 730PM, I was listening to the Beach Boys at the Hollywood Bowl.

Oh, there are ramifications. I've got a slew of pills to take every morning and evening. But no other restrictions have been cast for my trainer, my PT, and my future water coach. I said to Dr. Gupta that the big winner is the pharmacy at Ralph's. He corrected me. "No, the big winner is you." Nobody knows yet what triggered this medical soap but he, along with my phenomenal and super human internist Dr. Jonathan Weaver, will figure this out.

Just as happened a few months ago with "The Grand Slam of Hernias," I am reminded of the wonderment of my friends that range from sea to shining sea. I am honored to have that particular contact list in my phone. But, this week I was more mesmerized and astounded again by the staff at St. John's, most notably the folks in the ICU and ER. I salute nurses Amanda, Amy, Eva, and Gerardo as well as anybody else who answered my buzzer. They are all Doctor Robbys in my book.

One more time, our bodies are gifted with amazing alarm systems. Always make sure yours are turned on. Listen to them.

Dinner last night: Grilled sausage.

Monday Morning Video Laugh - July 6, 2026

 Since I've had four surgeries myself recently, I was a willing viewer of comic depictions of people coming out of anesthesia.   For instance, check this one out.

Dinner last night:  Grilled cheese at the Hollywood Bowl.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - Happy 250th!

 

Well, isn't he a grand old...  Wait, I can't say that anymore, correct?

Happy 250th Birthday, America. You don't look a day over 249. No, wait, that's how old the country really is. Sorry, I guess you are looking your age.  In my book, the place has got about twenty-five years left as we know it.   Thanks to the politicians of this land, we are circling the drain as we speak.

But that's for the future.  Let's remember the joyous past.  And the Fourth of July usually stands out as the Tiffany of our patriotic holidays.

The summer holiday, totally unique to our country, is one of our glorious traditions. Everybody has developed their own routine on how to celebrate the Fourth. Since I moved to points west, it's all about the Hollywood Bowl with its music and fireworks spectacular. I was there the other night listening to the Beach Boys.  As for the actual 4th yesterday, the baseball schedule gods gave me a break. There was a game and post-game pyrotechnics to soak in at Dodger Stadium. The holiday was pretty much trouble-free.

Unlike others in the past.

When I was a kid, there were the years with a family barbecue, usually in our backyard which quickly was transformed into either a badminton court or a croquet field. Organized games were popular with my tribe as it was a welcome diversion to either eating or fighting. My cousins were mostly older so I was completely overmatched/underaged when it came to playing these games. I was too short. I was too uncoordinated. I was always too too something.

During the badminton games, I pretty much fanned on the shuttlecock. It would land at my feet. Or I'd hit it so hard that it would get lost amongst my grandmother's rhubarb plants.

When it came to croquet, I was not a proponent of the "less is more" approach. It was a lawn game, but I had my share of fly balls when it came to the sport. I'd attack my turn with the zeal of Mickey Mantle hitting a fastball down the plate. One took such an arc that I missed the wicket altogether. But managed a direct hit on the garage window. I looked sheepish and uttered my standard apology.

Sorry.

Grandma had another single word for me.

"Dumkopf."

The adults usually stayed sequestered in a row of beach chairs. If the temperature went below 90 degrees, my grandmother and the ubiquitous Tante Emma would hightail it into the house to fetch their winter coats. The summer humidity would be draining us all of body water. Meanwhile, Grandma would sit and bundle up.

"I feel a draft."

As the day would wind down, there would be less activity and more chit chat. One year, somebody had cracked a joke and one of our relatives laughed so hard that she shit right through her Capri pants onto the beach chair. I would have burned the thing right then and there. But, my father simply took it and hosed it off.Not enough for me. I never sat in that particular chair ever again. 

We weren't big on fireworks. And, besides I was still reeling from an unfortunate incident with matches, so the fear of fire was still all too real. The most I would tackle would be the run down the driveway holding a sparkler. Meanwhile, my mother would get more of a flame going by simply lighting up a pack of Kent Cigarettes. 

The real celebratory explosives were happening up the block with my neighborhood chums. They had the major artillary and plenty of it. Cherry bombs, sky rockets, and the unfortunately-but-aptly named "nigger chasers." Again, the remembrance of flames near my fingers made me a spectator to the special effects around me. Did I want to light one? Er, no, thanks. 

One year, there was an inexplicable attempt to go watch a professional fireworks show at a high school in Tuckahoe. My family didn't do organized events often. This one, however, was well populated. Even Grandma attended in one of her rare appearances that didn't involve either church, the A and P, or Suchy's Funeral Home in the Bronx. Invitations out of the realm usually got her tried-and-true response.

"I'll stay home." 

Well, that July the Fourth, Grandma went with the rest of us to see fireworks. It looked like all of Westchester County had converged on the Tuckahoe High School football bleachers to watch this. The usual ooohs and aahs. When it was over, the throng exited en masse. There was no room to move. My mother instructed me to hold onto my grandmother's hand for dear life. I did so.As I exited the crowd to meet the rest of my entourage, I was alone. Somehow, my hand was no longer attached to my grandmother's.

"Oh, great! You lost your grandmother!"

My fault again. 

Moments later, Grandma emerged from the melee. Unscathed and unamused."Next year, I stay home."She turned to look at me.

"Dumkopf."

Most of us will not be around when and if America celebrates its tricentennial in 2076. But, quite a lot of us were around for the bicentennial and we will have to hold that single memory for our entire lives. I remember all the hoopla. 

The tall ships in New York Harbor. 

The fireworks over Washington DC. 

Arthur Fiedler conducting the Boston Pops. 

All of it televised with Walter Cronkite officiating over all.

The only problem is I had other issues that day.

I thought I had cancer.

The day before, it had started. Terrific stomach pains that manifested themselves quickly in the form of hourly bathroom visits. The only trouble is what was leaking out of me didn't look right.

It was nothing but blood.

And, in one of my frequent moments of stupidity, I said nothing to anybody.My mother had a medical reference book in her arsenal. I pulled it out and looked up the symptoms.

Oh, my God, I have cancer of the colon!

Since I now assumed that I was dying, I figured it was time to mention my problem. I needed to give my folks time to clear their schedules in the event of my impending funeral. Indeed, they actually worried about this. But, not enough to respond outside of their usual medical orbit.

"We'll take you to Dr. Weisberg tomorrow."

Oh, God, no. Not him. I've written about this goofball before. A guy who would have attended to Robert Kennedy's head wound by spraying Bactine on it. This time around, however, Dr. Weisberg had to do a little bit more than simply prescribe Tylenol. One swig of barium and a GI series later, I was pronounced fit. Or as fit as a serious bout of kiddie colitis could leave me. I could celebrate America's birthday with nothing more than a steady diet of tapioca.

America's one noteworthy birthday during my lifetime and I'm toasting it with a bland diet.

Oh, well. I obviously lived to blog about it.   Okay, I did sort of.   There's a story to be told soon of my past week.   That's for another blog entry.

In the meantime, enjoy the holiday and drive safely.

Dinner last night: The sumptuous pre-game buffet at the Dodger Stadium Club.

Classic TV Commercial of the Month - July 2026

 Do they still make Nestea?

Dinner last night:  Cajun Shrimp at The Cinemas in Westwood.

Happy 250th USA!

 Today we celebrate our 250th year of independence.   These people can't.

That holiday sparkler got a little too close.

What's a little holiday spittle amongst friends?

Here, let me help you see the fireworks.

 IRB1??   Anybody?

I bet he was arrested for shoplifting some sunglasses.

That outfit went out back in the days of Miriam Makeba.

The dress alone should get her six months.

Oh, my God!  They've arrested Natalie from The Facts of Life!

"But this hair color looked good on Lucy..."

A horse is a horse, of course, of course...

Shia LaBoeuf wannabe.

If she could only run as fast as that mascara.

Dinner last night:   Grilled cheese at the Hollywood Bowl. 

Watched It, Tolerated It

 

End of review.

Oh, all right, I'll give you a little more.  But not much more.  Here's one of those HBO movies that gets made because somebody knows somebody else.   Like this one.   Say, let's see if we can get something done with Allison Janney because she won an Oscar and an Emmy.  Bingo, here's a production budget.  Knock yourself out.

And that's how a trite little uninteresting movie like "Miss You, Love You" gets made.  The plot is barely one and this film, with its focus on just two characters in a single location, has all the looks of being a stage play.   And not a good one.

Janney plays a woman in New Mexico who has to plan the memorial service for her dead second husband.   Her son with her first husband is an unseen high power executive and sends his own office assistant to help Mom with the details. The two quibble over...well, everything.  Both learns some inner secrets about their son and boss.   There's lots of quips, histrionics, and screaming.  By the time you see the end credits, you realize you have missed the middle 45 minutes of the movie.

But, it's Allison Janney.   She never disappoints.  

Uh huh.   And she's probably remodeling her bathroom with the money some fool gave her to make this flight of unreality.

LEN'S RATING:  One star.

Dinner last night:  Sandwich.

This Date in History - July 1

 

Happy Heavenly birthday, Olivia de Havilland.  She turned 104 on this date.  And died several weeks later.

69:  TIBERIUS JULIUS ALEXANDER ORDERS HIS ROMAN LEGIONS IN ALEXANDRIA TO SWEAR ALLEGIANCE TO VESPASIAN AS EMPEROR.

Since those soldiers probably like to swear anyway.

1097:  CRUSADERS LED BY PRINCE BOHEMOND OF TARANTO DEFEAT A SELJUK ARMY LET BY SULTAN KILIJ ARSIAN I.

Does anybody know how to pronounce any of that??

1523:  JOHANN ESCH AND HEINRICH VOES BECOME THE FIRST LUTHERAN MARTYRS, BURNED AT THE STAKE BY ROMAN CATHOLICS.

Plus they forgot to put something in the offering plate.

1643:  FIRST MEETING OF THE WESTMINSTER ASSEMBLY IN LONDON.

Did they start the dog show?

1766:  JEAN-FRANCOIS DE LA BARRE, A YOUNG FRENCH NOBLEMAN, IS TORTURED AND BEHEADED BEFORE HIS BODY IS BURNT ON A PYRE ALONG WITH A COPY OF VOLTAIRE'S DICTIONNAIRE NAILED TO HIS TORSO FOR THE CRIME OF NOT SALUTING A CATHOLIC PROCESSION IN FRANCE.

That's a lot of typing just to say "he's dead."

1837:  A SYSTEM OF CIVIL REGISTRATION OF BIRTHS, MARRIAGES, AND DEATHS IS ESTABLISHED IN ENGLAND AND WALES.

The beginning, the middle, and the end.

1858:  JOINT READING OF CHARLES DARWIN AND ALFRED RUSSEL WALLACE'S PAPERS ON EVOLUTION IN LONDON.

Who's a monkey???

1863:  DURING THE AMERICAN CIVIL WAR, THE BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG BEGINS.

Start writing that speech, Abe.

1870:  THE UNITED STATES DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE FORMALLY COMES INTO EXISTENCE.

Good.  Now crime can begin.

1874:  THE SHOLES AND GLIDDEN TYPEWRITER, THE FIRST COMMERCIALLY SUCCESSFUL TYPEWRITER, GOES ON SALE.

The first unsuccessful one?     lyltkwsfgqtrercxvas.

1879:  CHARLES TAZE RUSSELL PUBLISHES THE FIRST EDITION OF THE WATCHTOWER.

Get off my front porch!

1903:  START OF THE FIRST TOUR DE FRANCE BIKE RACE.

No word on what year it ended.

1906:  BUSINESSWOMAN ESTEE LAUDER IS BORN.

The only perfume my mother wore.

1908:  SOS IS ADOPTED AS THE INTERNATIONAL DISTRESS SIGNAL.

Replacing.....Help!!!!!!!!!

1916:  ACTRESS OLIVIA DE HAVILLAND IS BORN.

She made it to triple digits....still impressed.

1916:  WORLD WAR I - ON THE FIRST DAY OF THE BATTLE OF THE SOMME 19,000 SOLDIERS OF THE BRITISH ARM ARE KILLED AND 40,000 WOUNDED.

Those are Somme casualties.

1920:  ACTOR HAROLD SAKATA IS BORN.

Oddjob!

1925:  ACTOR FARLEY GRANGER IS BORN.

A stranger on a train.

1931:  ACTRESS LESLIE CARON IS BORN.

Gigi!

1934:  ACTOR JAMIE FARR IS BORN.

Nice dress.

1943:  TOKYO CITY MERGES WITH TOKYO PREFECTURE AND IS DISSOLVED.  SINCE THIS DATE, NO CITY IN JAPAN HAS THE NAME "TOKYO."

Or, for that matter, "Mothra."

1952:  ACTOR DAN AYKROYD IS BORN.

That's good bass.

1958:  THE CANADIAN BROADCASTING CORPORATION LINKS TELEVISION BROADCASTING ACROSS CANADA VIA MICROWAVE.

Linking TV with popcorn forever.

1960:  INDEPENDENCE OF SOMALIA.

Good, I was worried.

1962:  INDEPENDENCE OF RWANDA.

Okay, now redundant.

1962:  INDEPENDENCE OF BURUNDI.

Obviously, a slow news day unless you live in Burundi.

1963:  ZIP CODES ARE INTRODUCED FOR US MAIL.

And still my mailman sometimes doesn't show up until 7PM.

1967:  CANADA CELEBRATES ITS 100TH BIRTHDAY.

Why not celebrate it with an Expo??

1979:  SONY INTRODUCES THE WALKMAN.

Remember those????

1980:  "O CANADA" OFFICIALLY BECOMES THE NATIONAL ANTHEM OF CANADA.

That's funny.   I thought it always was.

1984:  THE PG-13 RATING IS INTRODUCED BY THE MPAA.

Goodbye, M.

1987:  WFAN RADIO IN NY IS LAUNCHED AS THE WORLD'S FIRST ALL-SPORTS RADIO STATION.

Hello, Vinnie from Passaic.

1991:  ACTOR MICHAEL LANDON DIES.

Little Grave on the Prairie.

1995:  RADIO HOST WOLFMAN JACK DIES.

Spinning the hits on that great AM station in the sky.

1996:  MODEL MARGAUX HEMINGWAY DIES.

Even beautiful people have demons.

1997:  ACTOR ROBERT MITCHUM DIES.

I always thought he was eating way too much beef.

2000:  ACTOR WALTER MATTHAU DIES.

Never a bad performance ever.

2004:  ACTOR MARLON BRANDO DIES.

He actually was a contender.

2005:  SINGER LUTHER VANDROSS DIES. 

Grammys kill.

2009:  ACTOR KARL MALDEN DIES.

Wonder if Karl and Marlon knew they would share the same date of death when they worked together in "On the Waterfront."

2025:  EVANGELISTJIMMY SWAGGART DIES.

Who's crying now?

Dinner last night: Chicken in mustard sauce.

Hollywood Then...and Then...And Now

 

You see the spin I put on this month's history lesson?   Watch carefully.

Here is my beloved Cinerama Dome, which was part of the great Arclight movie complex.  Here is how the Dome looked on its grand opening in November 1963 when the premiere attraction was "It's A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World."  Interesting factoid:   the gala was supposed to be attended by a certain President who was ultimately called to Dallas.

Flipping past, here is the Dome right after March 15, 2020 when COVID hit.

And even though we get some idle promises of reopening, all we get is a different color of board covering the front door.

Still wishing and hoping.

Dinner last night: Hospital pasta.

Monday Morning Video Laugh - June 29, 2026

 Our month of weddings and graduations closes out with this gem...featuring the worst wedding photographer ever.

Dinner last night:  Grilled sausage.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - Hello Again, Birdie

 

I was recently horrified.  I heard from a friend that, at this very moment, there is a remake of "Bye Bye Birdie" being written somewhere out here in the bowels of Hollywood.

Bowels, indeed.

Why don't you just kill me now?  At least start the process and then please know that you will have to finish when some fool ultimately decides to do remakes of my all-time favorite films, "The Apartment" and "Some Like It Hot."

There is nothing sacred anymore.  Not even formerly pristine memories from my childhood.

I think about "Bye Bye Birdie" and wonder just what a remake would look like. 

Instead of Elvis Presley going off to the Army, is the 2013 plot finding a Justin Bieber knockoff headed off to prison as he serves his sentence for a DUI convicton?

The famed "Telephone Hour" production number?  Gee, let's update that by having all the Sweet Apple, Ohio texting each other about Hugo Peabody and Kim McAfee being pinned.

Of course, some genius out there will try to connect to the original movie by including former stars Ann-Margret and Bobby Rydell in cameo roles.  Wow, they can be exasperated parents now.  Or maybe the mayor and his wife.

Ugh.

If the lunatics entrusted with this reboot were smart, they would throw the money back and walk away from the project right now.  As a creative work, "Bye Bye Birdie" is almost hopelessly and joyously bound to the 1960s.  First as a Broadway musical and then as the 1963 film, it was a product of its time.  And works only in that context. 

Now, the movie is a bit different from the Broadway production.  The filmmakers felt a need to make it even more rooted to the decade that spawned it.  There is a subplot tied to the Cold War and Russian hostilities.  Numerous gags reference Nikita Khrushchev and John F. Kennedy, the latter made even more painful because he died a short six months after "Bye Bye Birdie" was released. 

But, still.  The movie still works.  For me.  I just watched the recently remastered Blu-ray edition and fell in love all over again.  I still hear the dated jokes.  I can recite most of the lines.  I can show you a blooper where you can actually see the glass ramp that the drugged turtle zooms up.  I can point out to you amongst the teenagers Linda Kaye Henning of "Petticoat Junction" and Elaine Joyce.

I am truly a geek when it comes to "Bye Bye Birdie."  A movie that came in at #12 when I documented my Top 25 Favorite Films of All Time on this blog over five years ago.

Indeed, "Bye Bye Birdie" was my first non-edible obsession. When I initially saw it when it arrived at the Loews Theater in Mount Vernon, I couldn't get enough of it. Because I wound up seeing it six times over the next seven days. I'm not sure why I skipped a day, but it must have been, in the most Biblical of senses, our day to rest.

How did I wind up there in the darkened theater all week?  Very simple.  Neither of my parents had any interest.  My mother wasn't particularly fond of musicals.  And my dad?

"I can't stand that Dick Van Dyke.  He falls downs a lot."

A bit of a random reaction I agree.  But, even at this tender age, my parents acknowledged the safer world around us. 

"Okay, we'll drop you off at the theater and pick you up after the movie." 

Just to be clear, I wasn't completely unchaperoned.  My father would slip five dollars to the guy taking the tickets or maybe the deadly theater matron with her dreaded flashlights.  They were entrusted to watch over me.  And did so gladly.  Back in that day, five bucks went someplace.

Of course, my absolutely crazed reaction to the first viewing of "Bye Bye Birdie" made me want to go back and back and back.  My parents surprisingly didn't care.

"Well, it's your allowance."

I often wonder if each visit to Loews for "Bye Bye Birdie" cost them five dollars for the in-theater babysitting service.  Or, after the third or fourth time, they threw their hands in the air and said "what the hell."  He came back in one piece.  Maybe he doesn't need the supervision.

I certainly wasn't going to raise a ruckus as I sat gaping at my very favorite movie of all time.  I was completely mesmerized.

You see, "Bye Bye Birdie" also probably marked the official grand opening of Len's Hormones.

The ribbon cutter was none other than Ann-Margret. The record album cover at the top of today's posts gives her limited justice. I immediately used my very next allowance to go to Brodbeck's Record Store on Fourth Avenue in Mount Vernon, New York to purchase the stereophonic long playing soundtrack record.

And I will tastefully refuse to tell you what I used to do with that record jacket.

In an incomprehensible twist, the other thing that made me love this movie was the presence of Paul Lynde as the father. I was, of course, way, way too naive to understand all the sordid details of Mr. Lynde's private life. All I knew was that I thought the guy was a stitch and that I wished secretly my father was just like this guy. Years later, I doubt that I wanted my dad to be cruising Santa Monica Boulevard looking for teenage boys.

I played the "Bye Bye Birdie" soundtrack on my record player constantly. I knew all the words to every song and wanted desperately to be in the show if it ever was done in my school. In retrospect, I creep myself out at how nuts I was about this movie. And now I wonder what the hell drew me to it, beyond Ann-Margret's multiple scenes in Spandex.

Well, the music is quite underrated. There are shows/movie musicals that have been more successful, but I couldn't tell one song from another. Indeed, "Bye Bye Birdie" harkens back to a simpler time. Perhaps it's all this teenage angst that drew me in. It was a harbinger of things to come. Amid all the drama of the world, these kids seemed to be okay and even thriving. Maybe that was the future I was hoping for. That life would be so comfortable that I could sit on the telephone and talk to my friends all day like the kids of Sweet Apple, Ohio did.
And perhaps I would be grown up enough to dance around in a night club just like this trailer shows.  The famous "Birdie" dance. 
 Admittedly, it's probably a little weird that I would walk to grade school, singing the lyrics to "I"ve Got a Lot of Livin' to Do." I mean, think about it.

"There are chicks just right for some kissing and I mean to kiss me a few."

I can almost hear the call from my teacher and the school psychologist right now. The express train to puberty making no stops. So, if I spent a year obsessed with "Bye Bye Birdie," big freakin' deal! I think I turned out okay.

What did my parents think? Well, consider the song that could have been their anthem as well.  

"Kids, I don't know what's wrong with these kids today."

As I wrote above, I now have the newly restored Blu-ray.  And they recently released a remastered CD with some of the musical numbers, originally omitted, now included.  The album cover is intact.  And, years later, I still stare at the damn thing.

Luckily, I did get to see "Bye Bye Birdie" on a big screen a few years back when the Alex Film Society ran it. It was a true time machine. I felt like I was back in the Loews Mount Vernon, eyes riveted on the screen with a mouthful of Pom Poms. Now, I want to experience that all over again.  It's the 50th anniversary of its original release.  I wait for some film society like the Egyptian or the Aero here in Los Angeles to put together a night devoted to the film.  Dick Van Dyke is still with us.  So are Ann-Margret and Bobby Rydell.  They would be available for a Q & A after the movie.  In my fantasy world, I am the moderator.

But, rest assured, I probably won't be sharing what I was doing with that record album cover. But, before you let your dirty minds go too far off course, keep in mind that I wasn't even ten yet.

Dinner last night:  Chicken taco at Cafe Ipanema.

Classic Movie Trailer of the Month - June 2026

Yikes.  This movie is forty years old this month. 

Dinner last night:  Sandwich.

Len's Juke Box of the Month - June 2026

Talk about childhood memories.   My parents' stereo always had one of the Tijuana Brass albums spinning on it.  As for me, my teenage self couldn't get enough of this album cover.  Herb and Company are at the Hollywood Bowl next week.  I can't wait.

Dinner last night:  Sandwich.

Len's Recipe of the Month - June 2026

 

A few months ago, I tried my culinary hand at Bolognese sauce for the first time.  Well, before the weather gets too hot, I wanted to try it again but in a condensed version.  This is a little less work and it might be appealing to you.   

First off, heat some EVO in a Dutch oven.   Brown about a pound of ground Italian sausage.  Then add a diced onion and some sliced garlic cloves.   

Now add a tablespoon of tomato paste. Pour in two 28 0z cans of San Marzano crushed tomatoes.   Add another cup of water, using one of the cans to empty out remaining tomato juice.  Add some salt, pepper, and oregano.   And here's another spin.   

1 teaspoon of granulated sugar.

Stir this all together and let it simmer on low for a few hours.   About an hour before dinner, raise the temperature and add some more water.  Why?  Because you're going to cook a pound of rigatoni in the sauce.  Weird, heh?  But there are chefs who do this all the time with the pasta because the starch enhances the sauce.

At the end, add a tablespoon of unsalted butter which will make the sauce nice and silky.

Sprinkle some Parmesan Reggiano.

And you're welcome.

Dinner last night:  Sandwich.

This Date in History - June 24

 

Today is another example of the Knots Landing guarantee.   Anybody from that show with a birthday gets their picture here.

109:  ROMAN EMPEROR TRAJAN INAUGURATES THE AQUA TRAIANA, AN AQUEDUCT THAT CHANNELS WATER FROM LAKE BRACCIANO.

It's an Aqueduct, not a Belmont.

474:  JULIUS NEPOS FORCES ROMAN USURPER GLYCERIUS TO ABDICATE THE THRONE AND PROCLAIMS HIMSELF EMPEROR OF THE WESTERN ROMAN EMPIRE.  

Glycerious?  Isn't that something for a rash?

1230:  THE SIEGE OF JAEN STARTED IN THE CONTEXT OF THE SPANISH RECONQUISTA.

I suppose there was an earlier Spanish Conquista.

1314:  FIRST WAR OF SCOTTISH INDEPENDENCE - THE BATTLE OF BANNOCKBURN CONCLUDES WITH A DECISIVE VICTORY BY SCOTTISH FORCES LED BY ROBERT THE BRUCE.  

At least, he didn't call himself Robert the Springsteen.

1374:  A SUDDEN OUTBREAK OF ST. JOHN'S DANCE CAUSES PEOPLE IN THE STREETS OF AACHEN, GERMANY TO EXPERIENCE HALLUCINATIONS AND BEGIN TO JUMP AND TWITCH UNCONTROLLABLY UNTIL THEY COLLAPSE FROM EXHAUSTION.  

They shoot Germans, don't they?

1509:  HENRY VIII AND CATHERINE OF ARAGON ARE CROWNED KING AND QUEEN OF ENGLAND.

The Mickey Rooney of monarchs.  I mean in number of marriages, not height.

1535:  THE ANABAPTIST STATE OF MUNSTER IS CONQUERED AND DISBANDED.  

Herman or Lily?

1717:  THE PREMIER GRAND LODGE OF ENGLAND, THE FIRST MASONIC GRAND LODGE IN THE WORLD, IS FOUNDED IN LONDON.

Wives now know where their husbands are two nights a week.

1779:  DURING THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION, THE GREAT SIEGE OF GIBRALTAR BEGINS.

Get a piece of the rock.

1793:  THE FIRST REPUBLICAN CONSTITUTION IN FRANCE IS ADOPTED.

Not those Republicans, right?

1880:  FIRST PERFORMANCE OF O CANADA, WHICH WOULD BECOME THE NATIONAL ANTHEM OF CANADA.

Now they have something to play before hockey games.

1902:  KING EDWARD VII OF THE UNITED KINGDOM DEVELOPS APPENDICITIS, DELAYING HIS CORONATION.

Back in the day when appendicitis was sometimes a fatal disease.

1904:  SINGER/ACTOR PHIL HARRIS IS BORN.

That's what I like about the South.  Ah, you thought there was going to be a "bare necessity" joke.

1916:  MARY PICKFORD BECOMES THE FIRST FEMALE FILM STAR TO SIGN A MILLION DOLLAR CONTRACT.

That's $500,000 per pigtail.

1919:  ACTOR AL MOLINARO IS BORN.

Most remember him from Happy Days, but I still prefer him as Murray the cop on the The Odd Couple.

1938:  PIECES OF A METEOR, ESTIMATED TO HAVE WEIGHED 450 METRIC TONS WHEN IT HIT THE EARTH'S ATMOSPHERE, LAND NEAR PENNSYLVANIA.   

What's that flying above...OUCH!

1942:  ACTRESS MICHELE LEE IS BORN.

Met her several times.  Nice lady.

1947:  KENNETH ARNOLD MAKES THE FIRST WIDELY REPORTED UFO SIGHTING NEAR MOUNT RAINIER, WASHINGTON.

Maybe it was a piece of that meteor.

1948:  START OF THE BERLIN BLOCKADE - THE SOVIET UNION MAKES OVERLAND TRAVEL BETWEEN WEST GERMANY AND WEST BERLIN IMPOSSIBLE.

Mr. Stalin, put up that wall.

1949:  THE FIRST TELEVISION WESTERN, HOPALONG CASSIDY, IS AIRED ON NBC.

There will be a few others...ahem.

1957:  IN ROTH VS. US, THE SUPREME COURT RULES THAT OBSCENITY IS NOT PROTECTED BY THE FIRST AMENDMENT.

Hell, yeah.

1973:  THE UPSTAIRS LOUNGE ARSON ATTACK TAKES PLACE AT A GAY BAR IN NEW ORLEANS.  THIRTY-TWO PEOPLE DIE.

They should have gone to the Downstairs Lounge.  Probably easier to get out.

1987:  ACTOR JACKIE GLEASON DIES.

And away he goes.

1997:  ACTOR BRIAN KEITH DIES.

Killed himself.  Buried in the Westwood cemetery near my house.

2000:  ACTOR DAVID TOMLINSON DIES.

No saving Mr. Banks this time.

2004:  IN NEW YORK, CAPITAL PUNISHMENT IS DECLARED UNCONSTITUTIONAL.  

Glad I moved.

2005:  VENTRILOQUIST PAUL WINCHELL DIES.

Oddly enough, Jerry Mahoney released a statement.

2013:  FORMER ITALIAN PRIME MINISTER SILVIO BERLUSCONI IS FOUND GUILTY OF ABUSING HIS POWER AND HAVING SEX WITH AN UNDERAGE PROSTITUTE AND IS SENTENCED TO SEVEN YEARS IN PRISON.

And you thought all the political sleazeballs were in this country.

2014:  ACTOR ELI WALLACH DIES.

The Good, the Bad, and the Dead.

2025:  ACTOR BOBBY SHERMAN DIES.

There Go The Brides.

Dinner last night:  Leftover rigatoni.

Bowled Over

 

If you have been hanging around this blog long enough, you will know that there have been a host of reviews of past summers at the beloved Hollywood Bowl.  Now, over that period of time, there have been some wonderful concerts and shows.   For instance, their production of "A Chorus Line" a decade or so ago was nothing short of miraculous.   Similar kudos can be awarded for their Sondheim night.   

But, of recent summers, the shows have been lacking.   Too many of them have suffered through diversity requirements and often resemble more offerings of the old Apollo Theater.   Moreover, I didn't exactly use a stopwatch to verify, but my sense is that the concerts have been getting shorter and shorter.  Or maybe I was just bored.

Yet, last Saturday all recent sins are forgiven,   I was major astounded, pleasantly surprised, and thoroughly entertained by this summer's Opening Night, which was a salute to Broadway.  They covered about two dozen numbers from Broadway starting with and then concluding with numbers from "A Chorus Line."   This went on for two plus hours and each performance was better than the one before.

Billy Crystal was the host and his monologue, while a bit liberal, was on target. And then the performances from the likes of  Lea Salonga, Brian Stokes Mitchell, Halle Bailey, Darren Criss, and Renee Elise Goldsberry were nothing short of remarkable.  Here's one small sample.

This might be the best show I have ever seen at the Hollywood Bowl and you can find it all on You Tube.   The bar is now high.   Go for it, LA Phil.   

Dinner last night:  Sandwich.