This Date in History - January 21

 

Happy birthday, Geena Davis.  It's also Robby Benson's birthday, but I'd rather look at her picture.

1525:  THE SWISS ANABAPTIST MOVEMENT IS FOUNDED WHEN CONRAD GREBEL, FELIX MANZ, GEORGE BLAUROCK, AND ABOUT A DOZEN OTHERS BAPTIZE EACH OTHER IN ZURICH, BREAKING A THOUSAND-YEAR TRADITION OF CHURCH-STATE UNION.  

I have no idea what any of this means, but it sounds important.

1535:  FOLLOWING THE AFFAIR OF THE PLACARDS, FRENCH PROTESTANTS ARE BURNED AT THE STAKE IN PARIS.

Damn.  Those placards must have said something more than "Let's Go Mets."

1720:  SWEDEN AND PRUSSIA SIGN THE TREATY OF STOCKHOLM.

I always like it when two countries pledge to play nice.

1738:  AMERICAN PATRIOT ETHAN ALLEN IS BORN.

Just in time for the February President's Day sale.

1749: THE TEATRO FILARMONICO IN VERONA IS DESTROYED BY FIRE.

Started by two gentlemen, no doubt.

1793:  AFTER BEING FOUND GUILTY OF TREASON BY THE FRENCH CONVENTION, LOUIS XVI OF FRANCE IS EXECUTED BY GUILLOTINE.

So there goes the new hat he just got for Christmas.

1840:  JULES DUMONT D'URVILLE DISCOVERS ADELIE LAND, ANTARCTICA.

I hope he wasn't surprised that it's freakin' cold down there.

1861:  DURING THE CIVIL WAR, JEFFERSON DAVIS RESIGNS FROM THE US SENATE.

A Jefferson that actually moved on down.

1899:  OPEL MANUFACTURES ITS FIRST AUTOMOBILE.

Drive home in a new 1900 Opel.

1905:  ACROBAT KARL WALLENDA IS BORN.

Died in 1978 when he fell off a wire. 

1908:  NEW YORK CITY PASSES THE SULLIVAN ORDINANCE, MAKING IT ILLEGAL FOR WOMEN TO SMOKE IN PUBLIC, ONLY TO HAVE THE MEASURE VETOED BY THE MAYOR.

Good thing since the Mayor's wife had just gotten a carton of Chesterfields for Christmas.

1915:  KIWANIS INTERNATIONAL IS FOUNDED IN DETROIT, MICHIGAN.

And here comes a bunch of Little League teams sporting the same name.

1922:  ACTOR TELLY SAVALAS IS BORN.

Who loves ya?

1924:  COMIC BENNY HILL IS BORN.

Never ever found him funny.

1938:  RADIO HOST WOLFMAN JACK IS BORN.

The real star of "American Graffiti."

1940:  GOLFER JACK NICKLAUS IS BORN.

He's the golfer who didn't figure out how to mix iced tea with lemonade.

1948:  THE FLAG OF QUEBEC IS ADOPTED AND FLOWN FOR THE FIRST TIME OVER THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY OF QUEBEC.  THE DAY IS MARKED ANNUALLY AS QUEBEC FLAG DAY.

Funny how they figured that out.

1950:  AMERICAN LAWYER AND GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL ALGER HISS IS CONVICTED OF PERJURY.

Boo Hiss.

1950:  AUTHOR GEORGE ORWELL DIES.

Born in 1903.  He would have had to live to 81 to get to 1984.

1954:  THE FIRST NUCLEAR SUBMARINE, THE USS NAUTILUS, IS LAUNCHED BY MAMIE EISENHOWER.

I'll bet you sampled a bit when you cracked that bottle of champagne.

1956:  ACTOR ROBBY BENSON IS BORN.

The most monotone actor ever.

1956:  ACTRESS GEENA DAVIS IS BORN.

She and Robby could share the same birthday cake.  If, of course, they went to the same school.

1959:  DIRECTOR CECIL B. DEMILLE DIES.

And Hollywood cheers.

1959:  ACTOR CARL SWITZER DIES.

Oh, my God!  Alfalfa just shot himself.

1967:  ACTRESS ANN SHERIDAN DIES. 

All out of oomph.

1968:  IN VIETNAM, THE BATTLE OF KHE SANH.

And the Khe Sanhs keep rolling along.

1976:  COMMERCIAL SERVICE OF THE CONCORDE BEGINS.

Yeah, that will be a short flight.

1977:  US PRESIDENT JIMMY CARTER PARDONS NEARLY ALL AMERICAN VIETNAM WAR DRAFT EVADERS, SOME OF WHOM HAD EMIGRATED TO CANADA.

Whenever this happens, you know the politicians is trying to buy votes.

1989: BASEBALL STAR CARL FURILLO DIES.

And Flatbush weeps.

1997:  THE US HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES VOTES 395-28 TO REPRIMAND NEWT GINGRICH FOR ETHICS VIOLATIONS, MAKING HIM THE FIRST SPEAKER OF THE HOUSE TO BE SO DISCIPLINED.

Meanwhile, Nancy Pelosi is also a big crook.   Do your research.

1998:  ACTOR JACK LORD DIES. 

Bury him, Dan-o.

2002:  SINGER PEGGY LEE DIES.

Yep, that's all there is.

2019:  ACTRESS KAYE BALLARD DIES.

Knew her.  Miss her.

Dinner last night:  Leftover SPO.

The Romcom Mind Drain

 

It seems like a 100 years since I saw this Netflix movie.   I watched it last week and then immediately had to have major hernia surgery.   So, let's make the leap here.

Romcoms can make you sick and land you in the hospital.

Admittedly, that's unfair and I shouldn't besmirch the entire concept.   I mean, romcoms are designed to keep single older women content while they pet their cats.   So there is a purpose to it all.

I still have no idea why I watched this in the first place.  Maybe it was to predict every plot point which you can see coming a year before.   Or maybe it was just to be mindless in case I had to suddenly face hernia surgery.  PS, I did.

That said, I sort of like this film and that was days before they gave me the codeine pain killers.  Yes, it was predictable and, in particular, the lead actress was hideous.   But Tom Blyth as the male lead had a certain flair that made you think you were watching something a lot more important than it really was.

Still?  What was I doing?  What was I thinking?  

I need to revisit my pre-hernia surgery entertainment choices.

LEN'S RATING:  Two-and-a-half stars.

Dinner last night:  Cheese and crackers.

Monday Morning Video Laugh - January 19, 2026

 Our Rob Reiner tribute presses on.  For me, one of his best movies as a director was "The Sure Thing"...a college version of "It Happened One Night."   This clip doesn't give the film justice.

Dinner last night:  Still coming from a few days in the hospital.   Not much really.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - My First Operation

There would be others.   One just this past week.  But today let's talk about my first ever time under the knife. The official name of my scheduled procedure was "orchiectomy." Go ahead. Look it up in a dictionary and you will finally figure out what the hell I've been talking about for the past two Sundays.

My urologist did all his cutting in St. John's Hospital in Santa Monica. I remember seeing the place on television during the 1994 Northridge earthquake. There were a lot of cracks in the building back then. I hoped and prayed that there wouldn't be a shaker while I was under the scalpel. The same way I fear having a cavity filled during a trembler.

For some reason known only to doctors, nurses, and insurance companies, these outpatient surgeries are always scheduled for the early morning hours. This requires you to get there even earlier than you would for a flight out of LAX. First of all, there are tons of forms to fill out so the hospital is totally protected if you choose to die during surgery.

As I repeatedly signed my name, I kept thinking that these autographs might be worth something. If I happen to... I also start to consider that the doctor might make some extra dough by working on the carpel tunnel syndrome that is certainly developing as I manuever through Page 112 of the hospital disclaimer.

"Who do we call?"

If I die? Well, Variety, the Hollywood Reporter, and then maybe my roommate in that order.

"Who is here with you?"

You mean the person that you can slip the box of Kleenex to if I check out? Well, my roommate dropped me off and will pick me up when I am ready to go. There was no reason to keep him here in these ultra-depressing surroundings. So, you can keep the tissue.

These hospital workers have a tough job when patients like me show up. When we're nervous, we like to babble. Even if it's only in our minds.

When you appear for one of these slash jobs, you watch the nurses go about their business in almost robotic fashion. You realize that they do this every single morning of the week. And the only way they can go through this successfully is by being structured and regimented. I wasn't a name or a person. I was simply "Room 24" and the "830AM surgery in OR 2."

At St. John's, they shuttle you to your own personal little "green room" to prep for your big appearance on the table. There, you can disrobe, gown up, and panic in privacy. I did so quickly and immediately hopped up on the gurney, which would be my home away from home for the next three or so hours. To while away your time, St. John's equips these rooms with a television. I turned it on to see Matt Lauer and Al Roker yammering about the weather in New York.

I immediately turned it off. Oh, my God, the last television I would see is "The Today Show." My life is ending with such emptiness.

Another knock on the door. A different nurse rolled in an EKG machine. Not only was I going to be under a knife in less than ninety minutes, but now I was going to endure the heartless pain of those little stickers pulling off my body hair. She went about her business, layering me with those little electronic Post-its. A pause as she flipped the switch. Another pause as she stared at the machine. Hmmmmmm.

"I'll be right back."

She returned with another nurse, who also stared at the machine. She turned to leave.

"I'll be right back."

Nurse Moe and Nurse Larry were now joined by Nurse Shemp. They all surveyed the nothingness that was apparently my heartbeat.

"I don't know how to tell you this but you might be dead."

Already?????

They contemplated their apparently faulty equipment. I looked for the exit sign. And then peered down at the floor. I tapped Nurse Moe on the shoulder.

"I think the machine works better when it's plugged in."

Three of the reddest faces ever to be seen in a hospital. The three nurses laughed hysterically. I wished I could join in. Now I couldn't wait to see what fresh hell would be awaiting me in the operating theater.

Another knock. The door opened slightly. A mild-mannered bald man stuck his head in.

"Would you like a prayer?"

Given what I had just seen with the three idiots and the EKG machine, I certainly needed one. And I was feeling fairly ecumenical. But I asked the guy what religion he was.

"I'm a priest."

Hmmmm. At this point, I didn't really care. But, suddenly, the face of my grandmother flashed before my eyes. Heck, she didn't even like it if you dated a Catholic, let alone have one doodling with some rosary beads before they went off to surgery. If my last moments were indeed Catholic ones, there would be no living with my grandmother in eternity. I lifted my head off the pillow and spoke to the priest.

"Nah, I'm good."

It wasn't more than ten minutes later that I was on my way. A rapidly speeding gurney through the halls of St. John's Hospital. I was wide awake and got to see all the other patients on their respective ways to a meeting with a very sharp object. In my own surgical suite, KRTH. the local oldies station, was blasting out of the speakers. A nurse, busying herself with my doctor's weapons, was singing along.

"STOP IN THE NAME OF LOVE....BEFORE YOU BREAK MY HEART....."

I quickly searched around for the dude who would be administering the knockout punch. I had only undergone anesthesia once before in my life when I had a small cyst removed. That was minor. This would be the Big Kahuna of deep sleep. And I was fully braced for the usual instructions. Start at 100 and count backward. Friends already advised me that you never get past 98. Suddenly, a tap on my shoulder.

"Hello, Len."

It was my smiling doctor.

And that's the last I remember. I didn't even get to count. An hour later...

"Hello, Len."

My smiling doctor again. I was still on the gurney in the operating room. The same nurse was still fooling with the now-sullied scalpels. And she was still singing.

"TALKIN' ABOUT MY GIRL....MY GIRL....."

The next half hour was admittedly hazy for me. I heard my doctor's voice in short spurts.

"Everything....fine....biopsy results....next week.....Vicodin."

I totally slept through the gurney ride to the post-surgical recovery room. But, when I did come to, I found myself side-by-side with the rest of the outpatients. And each one of their moans was louder than the next. I felt like I was lying in the streets of Atlanta as depicted in "Gone With The Wind." A nurse came by.

"How are you feeling?"

Fine. Can I go home?

Another nurse came by with a cup of some liquid.

"Here's some apple juice for you."

Thank you. Can I go home?

Another half hour. Another round of wails from the patients around. What specifically had been done to them? The nurse came back to my gurney.

"Your clothes are underneath. If you can get dressed..."

Done. In five minutes. Can I go home?

They finally got the message and called my roommate. He picked me up fifteen minutes later. With my senses totally relaxed by the fading anesthesia, he asked me what I wanted to eat.

"Entenmann's Pound Cake and a Diet Snapple."

I have no idea why. But that pound cake and that Diet Snapple never tasted better.

Oh. sure, the next few days were a little rough. My stitches down below were courtesy of Swingline Staplers. I finally figured out why the doctor had mentioned Vicodin. I needed it at night. Showering, of course, was a bitch. I couldn't get the bandage wet and I didn't want to, since I had already peeked under the dressing.

I was now Frankengroin.

So, the odyssey that had begun when I was five years old and sobbing in Dr. Fiegoli's office was finally over. A long journey that ended with the news that...

"The biopsy results were negative."

Dinner last night: Hospital food.

Classic Movie Trailer of the Month - January 2026

 This undervalued gem went into general release...gasp...70 years ago this month.

Dinner last night:  Still eating hospital food.

This Blog Is

 

Dinner last night:  Hospital food.

Two Documentaries, Two Jerks

 

Regular readers know I love a good documentary, particularly if it's historical and the subject is a renowned celebrity.   There are those cases where I don't like the individual being profiled.   But I still watch because I am curious to see how they will be depicted.

Of late, I have watched two such documentary films with subjects that feel a lot to be desired.   Both were well known for years as complete assholes.   Hmmm.  With such a challenging target, I wondered how the filmmakers would handle their films.

Folks, here's one blog movie review of two films.

The first you can see above.  It's the CNN-produced "I'm Chevy Chase and You're Not."  Okay, it's a well known fact that Chevy, formerly of SNL, is a dirtbag.   Bad behavior in spades.  I've heard plenty of lurid and nasty tales.   The film confirms most of them and even expands to stories you don't know.

The curious thing is that Chevy Chase actually participates with the film makers.  He sits for several long interviews and CNN, not exactly the bastion of unbiased journalism, does nothing to whitewash their subject matter.   Regardless of what Chevy says on screen, there are dozens of other talking heads who confirm what we have heard for years.

Chevy Chase is a jerk.  And, for the simple reinforcement of that truth, this film does exactly what a decent documentary should do.

Now, let's consider the other documentary.

HBO's newest celebrity profile about the legendary teen idol Paul Anka now in his 80s but still touring with his five or six hit songs.  Anka's been around so long that I have a faint memory of my mother taking me along to see him at Atlantic City's Steel Pier.   There's even footage of that theater marquee.

Now, Anka has been successful over the years, not only with his hits but also composing the Johnny Carson Tonight Show theme as well as some songs for (????) Michael Jackson.  It's all relived in this film which certainly did its homework on Anka.   

This movie is part documentary and part road show as we follow Paul on tour all over the world.   Apparently, he is revered in Japan for some reason.  We hear him tell his life story and it is interspersed with tour footage.   Yes, it is interesting.

But there is a bias at work here.   Anka comes off as a hero and a saint, largely because I believe he is one of the producers of the film, which also includes a rousing endorsement from Paul's son-in-law, Jason Bateman.  Something seems very forced and whitewashed as you view this film.  I go back several years when shock jock Howard Stern got a hold of some recording studio tapes which featured Paul abusing everybody around him.  I've heard other stories as well and he clearly has his own Chevy Chase-like moments.   

Because you know there's a distinct phoniness at work here, this documentary from HBO comes out a little empty.   It was well made but...

So when you look at the ratings I am giving these films, please know that I am judging the content of the film, not the despicableness of the subjects.

LEN'S RATING:   Three stars for Chevy, two stars for Paul.

Dinner last night;  In the hospital on no food regimen.

This Date in History - January 14

 

Happy birthday, Faye Dunaway.  This photo is obviously old because, well, so is she.

83BC:  MARK ANTONY IS BORN.

He looked nothing like either Marlon Brando or Richard Burton.

1301:  ANDREW III OF HUNGARY DIES, ENDING THE ARPAD DYNASTY IN HUNGARY.

Was Arpad anything like an iPad?

1539:  SPAIN ANNEXES CUBA.

There's rum to be had.

1639:  THE FUNDAMENTAL ORDERS, THE FIRST WRITTEN CONSTITUTION THAT CREATED A GOVERNMENT, IS ADOPTED IN CONNECTICUT.

Nobody remembers the Fundamental Orders.   But, then again, nobody remembers the real Constitution either.

1784:  RATIFICATION DAY IN THE US.  CONGRESS RATIFIES THE TREATY OF PARIS WITH GREAT BRITAIN.

And we care why?

1814:  FREDERICK VI OF DENMARK CEDES NORWAY TO SWEDEN IN RETURN FOR POMERANIA.

Somebody got stuck with some dogs.

1858:  NAPOLEON III OF FRANCE ESCAPES AN ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT.

Thanks to the 1858 version of Jack Bauer.

1892:  PRODUCER HAL ROACH IS BORN.

I have to stay home and grease Wheezer.

1906:  ACTOR WILLIAM BENDIX IS BORN.

And so Riley begins.

1907:  AN EARTHQUAKE IN KINGSTON, JAMAICA KILLS MORE THAN 1,000.

Change at Jamaica for Babylon and the coroner's office.

1915:  GAME SHOW PRODUCER MARK GOODSON IS BORN.

Waiting for Todman.

1933: THE CONTROVERSIAL BODYLINE CRICKET TACTICS USED BY DOUGLAS JARDINE'S ENGLAND PEAK WHEN AUSTRALIAN CAPTAIN BILL WOODFULL IS HIT OVER THE HEART.

I don't know what any of that means.

1941:  ACTRESS FAYE DUNAWAY IS BORN.

Why do I think that the nasty character she played in Network is really the way she is in real life?

1943:  JAPAN BEGINS OPERATION KE, THE SUCCESSFUL OPERATION TO EVACUATE ITS FORCES FROM GUADALCANAL.

Running like scared rabbits.

1943:  FRANKLIN ROOSEVELT AND WINSTON CHURCHILL BEGIN THE CASABLANCA CONFERENCE TO DISCUSS STRATEGY AND THE NEXT PHASE OF THE WAR.

They went to Rick's afterwards.

1943:  FRANKLIN ROOSEVELT BECOMES THE FIRST PRESIDENT OF THE US TO TRAVEL BY AIRPLANE WHILE IN OFFICE WHEN HE TRAVELS FROM MIAMI TO MOROCCO FOR THE CASABLANCA CONFERENCE.

All that WWII news in one day.  Must have kept Edward R. Murrow up all night.

1952: NBC'S LONG RUNNING MORNING SHOW TODAY DEBUTS WITH HOST DAVE GARROWAY.

Just in case you're confused and thought the first host was a chimp.

1954:  THE HUDSON MOTOR CAR COMPANY MERGES WITH NASH TO FORM THE AMERICAN MOTORS CORPORATION.

In about twenty years, makers of that piece of junk called the Gremlin.

1957:  ACTOR HUMPHREY BOGART DIES.

Bad news.   The good news?  Lauren Bacall now available.

1961:  ACTOR BARRY FITZGERALD DIES.

Going God's way.

1965:  SINGER JEANETTE MACDONALD DIES.

Ever seen one of her musicals with Nelson Eddy?   ZZZZzzzzzz.

1967:  THE HUMAN BE-IN TAKES PLACE N SAN FRANCISCO, LAUNCHING THE SUMMER OF LOVE.

Hey now.

1973: ELVIS PRESLEY'S CONCERT FROM HAWAII IS BROADCAST LIVE VIA SATELLITE AND SETS THE RECORD AS THE MOST WATCHED BROADCAST BY AN INDIVIDUAL ENTERTAINER IN TELEVISION HISTORY.

Take that, Taylor Swift.

1977:  ACTOR PETER FINCH DIES.

Just as he gets an Oscar nomination for Network.  And later wins.  And note that it happened on Faye Dunaway's birthday.  Don't you love this Wednesday feature?

1984:  BUSINESSMAN RAY KROC DIES.

Supersize that.

1986:  ACTRESS DONNA REED DIES.

It was a wonderful life.

2004:  THE NATIONAL FLAG OF THE REPUBLIC OF GEORGIA, THE SO-CALLED FIVE CROSS FLAG, IS RESTORED TO OFFICIAL USE AFTER A HIATUS OF SOME 500 YEARS.

I doubt any of the originals were still around.

2006:  ACTRESS SHELLEY WINTERS DIES.

After sleeping with practically everybody in Hollywood.

2009:  ACTOR RICARDO MONTALBAN DIES.

Including maybe him.

2013:  ACTOR CONRAD BAIN DIES.

After outliving two of the three kids on that damn Diff'rent Strokes sitcom.

2016:  ACTOR ALAN RICKMAN DIES.

Really hard this time.

Dinner last night:  Sandwich.

Morons of the Month - January 2026

 

No, I am not naming Mary as a monthly moron.  Hardly.

But, with all the drama going on in America's latest shit hole, the city of Minny No Place, Mary and Rhoda and Ted and Lou are on my minds.   I hope they're staying as that city implodes one block at a time.

Most of the dump almost burned to the ground back in 2020 when George Floyd declared he couldn't breath.   But, apparently, there was still enough there to keep the city and state going to the point where there were plenty of public funds to be stolen by the scumbag politicians that run the place.   And then we almost wind up with their dopey governor as Vice President...arguably a politician who made Dan Quayle look like a Rhodes scholar.

So the state of Minnesota becomes a magnet for all the illegal criminals that sifted into this country while the only barrier at the border was Costco facial tissue.  It is no surprise that ICE comes to town for their own Ice Capades to clean up the mess.   And it is also no surprise for the citizenry of this moronic state to become up in arms over the alleged illegal deportation of criminals who don't belong here in the first place.

After all, it's all Trump's fault.   

Meanwhile, when did some of our population start championing illegal aliens over their own neighbors?  Apparently, in Minny No Place, there are organized bands of people equipped and, in some cases, armed to fight off authority.   It's okay to question the officials and fight back and even put a hand on these folks.  

Hmmm, when I was a kid, my father schooled me often on this.  If I was ever stopped for some reason by someone in an authoritative role, I was just instructed to comply quietly.   "You get your day in court later," Dad would say.  Well, apparently, my father never got around to offer this sage advice to the idiots of Minny No Place.   Especially that poor numbskull who may or may not have tried to run over an ICE person.  The fact that she was there in that fracas to begin with was wrong.   And she paid the unfortunate price for it.   Now her lesbian partner will lawyer up and make millions while the rest of the idiotic citizen base wrings their hands in disgust.

Yeah, all of this is a lot more complicated than they make it out to be.   But, at the end of the day, there are rules and procedures in this generally fair nation that can be followed to become a legal citizen.   I know several people who indeed stood in a large crowd, raised their right hands, and became a happy part of the United States.   Yet, there are so many scum buckets who don't do that.   They simply sneak in with the evilest of intentions and apparently move to Mary Richards Lane where criminal acts are not only tolerated but encouraged.

Love is NOT all around.

Dinner last night:  Broccoli salad.

Monday Morning Video Laugh - January 12, 2026

 Rob Reiner Month continues.  His guest shot on "The Odd Couple" with then-wife Penny Marshall.

Dinner last night:  SPO.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - Gifting Grandma for Christmas

 

Let's close out the holiday season with one last Christmas story. And it involves Grandma, pictured above with me and my dad, at my cousin's wedding.

Here was a woman you couldn't Christmas shop for. Because if you asked her what she wanted, she'd wave you off immediately.

"I don't need nothing."

And she really didn't. But then you would ask her what she wanted.

"I don't want nothing."

It was the same drill year after year. You would think that my relatives would learn their lesson. They never did. And so, one Christmas after another, they fell over backwards trying to buy her a present. And then they would get indignant when she didn't like it. I used to hold my breath every year when the inevitable gift exchange would happen and somebody would dumbly bestow her with some wrapped package.

"What the hell is this?"

A Christmas present for you, of course.

"I don't need nothing. I don't want nothing."

So we heard.

And then we got to watch her open a gift from a family member that might as well have been picked out of an office grab bag. Because they always seemed to be selected without a single thought that this was a woman who virtually never left her house past her front porch or her backyard, except for her Thursday morning trips to the A&P and her monthly visit to her doctor in a Bronx neighborhood she called "Jew Town."

After opening a box, she'd always look up quizzically.

"What the hell is this?"

Very fancy gloves for when you go out to some place nice.

She waved them off as if they were mental patients. And she was right. In all the years I knew her, I never remember her ever once going to some place nice. I never remember seeing her in a restaurant. The fanciest it ever got for her was either a wedding or a funeral.

It got worse. The next year, she opened a small box to reveal a very exquisite watch.

"What the hell is this?"

It was explained this was a wrist watch that she could wear out. For instance, she could check the time when she was waiting for the bus.

Huh? Grandma waved them off. I almost did the same. For this simple woman, a gift was purchased as if she was a high-powered commuter on "Mad Men" headed for her job at a major New York advertising agency.

The gloves and the watch were tossed back as was pretty much everything else she ever got for Christmas.

One year, even one of my own Christmas presents indirectly ticked her off. I had been given a little reel-to-reel tape recorder which made me the most annoying guest at that holiday season's family gathering. When I was done running around and interiewing the family, my mom decided we should be proactive and make a tape to send out to whichever relative couldn't make it to our house that year. Eventually, the microphone was put in front of Grandma.

"What the hell is this?"

We explained that she should talk into it and say hello. She easily complied.

"Hello?"

Pause.

"This is stupid. I don't hear anything back."

IT'S NOT A TELEPHONE!!!!

The one year I decided to join the Grandma Christmas Gift fiasco, I thought I had hit on a great idea. I had gotten tired of looking at the little kitty cat cookie jar she kept in the pantry, always chock full of chocolate chip cookies. It had been around pretty much since Roosevelt beat Alf Landon. At the time, the Pillsbury Doughboy had made his first Poppin' Fresh appearance on television and I had found a cookie jar version in a store. As perfect as it was, I still held my breath as she opened the package.

"Now THIS is something I can use."

And she did for the rest of her life. The kitty cat was retired to another shelf. I had scored a big, big win.

After she died, I know one of my cousins claimed the kitty cat cookie jar. But I immediately pulled in the Pillsbury Doughboy. And it is the one memento I have of my grandmother.

Twenty years ago, I finally shipped it from the NY abode to the LA apartment. And it sits proudly in the kitchen.

Always chock full of chocolate chip cookies.

Dinner last night:  Pineapple and bacon sausage.

Classic Newsreel of the Month - January 2026

 How you got your news in a January eighty years ago.

Dinner last night:  Leftover pasta.

The Post Holiday Shutterbug

 More photos that were better left undeveloped.

Thank God for the orchid. Meanwhile, it looks like she has a little more chest hair than he does.

The perfect Halloween costume for that little piece of shit down the block.

When I look for Halloween costumes, I always check the Old Testament first.

The consequences of sex with Kobe Bryant.

What a novel career. Wedding and funeral planning at the same place. One stop shopping.

What happens when your Easter Bunny visits Three Mile Island...

In about five seconds, Dad's backpack is going to feel a lot lighter.

Dinner last night:  Pasta bolognese at the home of Kevin and Amir.

Len's Recipe of the Month - January 2026

 And I'm back in the kitchen with what might be the shortest recipe ever.  

Over the past few months, I've gotten addicted to Korean cuisine.  And, oddly enough, it is so easy to do it on your own in your home.  Whether it be chicken thighs or beef or pork filet, you can make it Korean simply by marinading and then glazing the meet with a very basic sauce.

Indeed, it's the sauce that is the central part of any Korean dish and it's so easy to make.  Most of the ingredients are in your own pantry, save for one.

Gochurang, a red chili paste.  Add this to your shopping list.   You can find it in most stores.  Take out a small bowl and mix the following.

3 tablespoons Gochurang.

2 tablespoons of maple syrup. (Or 1/2 cup of brown sugar).

2 tablespoons soy sauce.

2 tablespoons rice vinegar.

1 tablespoon sesame oil.

Mix well and then start the marinading...and glazing.

You're welcome.   In any language.

Dinner last night:  Sandwich.

This Date in History - January 7

 

We remember you on your birthday, Tony Conigliaro.  Yeah, that had to hurt.

1325:  ALFONSO IV BECOMES KING OF PORTUGAL.

Fonzie to you.

1558:  FRANCE TAKES CALAIS, THE LAST CONTINENTAL POSSESSION OF ENGLAND.

Those crafty French can put up a fight when they want to.

1608:  A FIRE DESTROYS JAMESTOWN, VIRGINIA.

As opposed to the Jamestown in NY where Lucy was born.

1610:  GALILEO GALILEI MAKES HIS FIRST OBSERVATIONS OF THE FOUR GALILEAN MOONS --- GANYMEDE, CALLISTO, LO, AND EUROPA.

To the Ganymede, Alice!

1785:  FRENCHMAN JEAN-PIERRE BLANCHARD AND AMERICAN JOHN JEFFRIES TRAVEL FROM DOVER, ENGLAND TO CALAIS, FRANCE, IN A GAS BALLOON.

And, yes, as we know from earlier, it is Calais, France.

1797:  THE MODERN ITALIAN FLAG IS FIRST USED.

1797?   How modern is that?

1800:  PRESIDENT MILLARD FILLMORE IS BORN.

Yes, that Millard Fillmore.

1894:  WILLIAM KENNEDY DICKSON RECEIVES A PATENT FOR MOTION PICTURE FILM.

So I guess, in a way, you can blame him for Adam Sandler.

1904:  THE DISTRESS SIGNAL "CQD" IS ESTABLISHED ONLY TO BE REPLACED TWO YEARS LATER BY "SOS."

I never heard of CQD soap pads.

1911:  ACTRESS BUTTERFLY MCQUEEN IS BORN.

So, at least, her mother knew something about birthin' babies.

1912:  CARTOONIST CHARLES ADDAMS IS BORN.

Finger snap, finger snap.

1920:  THE NY STATE ASSEMBLY REFUSES TO SEAT FIVE DULY ELECTED SOCIALIST ASSEMBLYMEN.

These days, they are welcomed.

1927:  THE FIRST TRANSATLANTIC TELEPHONE SERVICE IS ESTABLISHED --- FROM NEW YORK, NY TO LONDON.

Hello, duck.

1935:  BENITO MUSSOLINI AND FRENCH FOREIGN MINISTER PIERRE LAVAL SIGN THE FRANCO-ITALIAN AGREEMENT.

The Franco-American agreement gave us Spaghetti-Os.

1945:  DURING WORLD WAR II, BRITISH GENERAL BERNARD MONTGOMERY HOLDS A PRESS CONFERENCE AND CLAIMS CREDIT FOR VICTORY IN THE BATTLE OF THE BULGE.

Big deal.  So he lost some weight.

1945:  BOSTON RED SOX TONY CONIGLIARO IS BORN.

His baseball career was destroyed by a beanball to the head.  Isn't everybody's?

1948:  KENTUCKY AIR NATIONAL GUARD PILOT THOMAS MANTELL CRASHES WHILE IN PURSUIT OF A SUPPOSED UFO.

How do we know that the Martians didn't shoot him down?

1955:  MARIAN ANDERSON BECOMES THE FIRST PERSON OF COLOR TO PERFORM AT THE METROPOLITAN OPERA.

Because I guess that white isn't a color.   Hey, it's in the box of Crayola 64s.

1957:  TV HOST KATIE COURIC IS BORN.

Because, unlike what it says in Wikipedia, I refuse to call her a journalist.

1959:  THE US RECOGNIZES THE NEW CUBAN GOVERNMENT OF FIDEL CASTRO.

They'll really know who he is by October, 1962.

1973:  MARK ESSEX FATALLY SHOOTS 10 PEOPLE AND WOUNDS 13 OTHERS AT A HOWARD JOHNSON'S IN NEW ORLEANS.

23 Victims, 28 Flavors.

1980:  US PRESIDENT JIMMY CARTER AUTHORIZES LEGISLATION GIVING $1.5 BILLION TO BAIL OUT THE CHRYSLER CORPORATION.

Hey, how about you stop making shitty cars???

1990:  THE INTERIOR OF THE LEANING TOWER OF PISA IS CLOSED TO THE PUBLIC FOR SAFETY REASONS.

It's about time.   Wasn't it leaning for like a century or two??

1990:  SF GIANTS OWNER HORACE STONEHAM DIES.

Drunk.

1999:  THE SENATE TRIAL IN THE IMPEACHMENT OF US PRESIDENT BILL CLINTON BEGINS.  

Yeah, a fat lot of good that did.

2002:  COMEDIAN AVERY SCHREIBER DIES.

He was the comedy partner of Jack Burns.  So it's okay if you say "who" twice.

2012:  A HOT AIR BALLOON CRASHES IN NEW ZEALAND, KILLING ALL 11 PEOPLE ON BOARD.

Around The World in 80 Seconds.

2013:  TV HOST HUELL HOWSER DIES.

Still alive on PBS stations all over California.

2021:  DODGER TOMMY LASORDA DIES.

Up to Blue Heaven.

2021:  FILM DIRECTOR MICHAEL APTED DIES.

Talked to him on a plane once.

Dinner last night:   Leftover pork.

Hello Darkness, My Old Friend...

 

...I saw another current movie again.  

Or something like how that song goes.

If you're a regular reader here, you will know that my movie reviews have taken a much shorter look.   People ask me why I can't be more descriptive and lengthy in my critiques.

My response is...I try to be concise.   I like it.  Or I don't.  Over and out.  I don't waste your time or mine.   After all, Hollywood's not giving us a lot of applaud.  Indeed, our film industry has essentially turned off the joy from the silver screen.   Perhaps forever.   One movie after another is about flawed and depressing people.   Multiplexes need to sell Xanax alongside buttered popcorn and Goobers.

No better example of what is wrong with Hollywood is this mess called "After the Hunt" from Luca Guadagnino.   It opened in October but I heard it was headed to On Demand pretty quickly.  My main interest was the good reviews and Oscar buzz that star Julia Roberts received.   Um, three months later, that buzz was extinguished and all the bees are dead.   If only there could be an extermination service for pretentious and untalented screenwriters.

Trust me when I tell you that you will doze excessively if you play this at home.   I had to rewind four different times.   But it's not as if I was missing anything in the first place.

This garbage is all about a bunch of Yale professors.  They all have sinister secrets and provide one more salient reason why you don't want to send your kids to college in 2025.  Amongst this academia, which rhymes with macadamia (fitting because they're all nuts) are rapists, plagiarists, drug addicts, and liberal Democrats.   Who wants to spend two hours with this bunch?   I didn't.  

And sadly we have one more reason to watch Hollywood circle that white porcelain bowl.

See why I don't write long reviews.  This movie sucks.  Mike drop.

LEN'S RATING:  No stars.

Dinner last night:  Sandwich.

Monday Morning Video Laugh - January 5, 2026

With the untimely murder (aren't all murders untimely?), I have decided to devote the Monday videos to Rob Reiner.  It wasn't until his death that I realized how prolific his portfolio was.   First up..."All in the Family."  Mike and Archie meet for the first time.

Dinner last night:  Korean pork tenderloin.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - The Annual "To Do" List

 

Four days into 2026 and you've probably gotten the question already.   I have.

"So, did you make any New Year's resolutions?"

Yeah.  Have you?

Indeed, things I resolve to do in my life are always there.   For some bizarre reason, we saw January 1 as the artificial bookmark for making change.   Frankly, if you need to lose weight or quit smoking, you could have just as easily done it last August 4.   And you would have been better off.

Then, there's the social angle of it.   I've heard recently from people who know that on-line dating sites have the single highest traffic of the year on January 1.  Folks who were alone at midnight the night before.   People who weren't alone but wanted to be with somebody else.  Men and women who spent the evening staring at their hamsters spinning on a wheel. 

Again, this is silliness beyond compare.  If you want to branch out socially, do it.   Don't wait for some artificial holiday to make your move.   If you are in the right mindset, go for it.  But make sure you're doing it for the right reasons.     Indeed, I would compare looking for a mate on January 1 the same as getting a puppy for Christmas.   Sure, it's a romantic and warm scenario.   Until, of course, you have to walk them.

But I digress...

While I do make some resolutions (and yes, I will share at the end, you nosey Parkers), I look back at my life and realize that there were some occasions in my life where my world did promise to be changing around the first of the year.  In some instances, it was just life intervening and prompting the alteration in my course.  At one instance, it was all my own doing.

I was a fat kid.   No lie.  I've written before about the weight struggle in my youth which always seemed to bother me the most whenever my gym class had to that blasted shuttle run for the President's National Fitness Test.    You know the drill.

Run down the schoolyard.   Pick up an eraser.  Bring it back.   Run down the schoolyard.   Pick up the second eraser.  Bring it back.   And, as I crossed the finish line, I'd always hear this from whatever dirtbag was my gym teacher at the time.

"Len, you've got the slowest time in the class."

Well, he probably didn't say it out loud.   But I knew he was thinking it.

And that's the way I bounced pretty much for the first sixteen years of my life.

 The cow tipping point came in senior year of high school.  On the very first gym class of the year, my right knee gave out and started a lifetime of hobbles for me.  With me on the Autumn disabled list, the little activity and exercise I usually endured had dwindled down to zero.  I would come home from school, plant myself in front of the television, and open the wrapper of something.  And then something else.  And then something else.

By December, I would scrape both the walls on both sides of any hallway.

For some inexplicable reason, I resolved to make a change on January 1. 

I'm not sure what propelled me to venture onto a diet.  At the time, there was this doctor Dr. Irwin Stillman schlepping from one talk show to another hawking his water diet.  Of course, since he was on television a lot, I got to see him a lot. 

Hmmmm?  Drink eight glasses of water a day?  I can do that.

Hmmmm?  And watch your portions of food?   Can I do that?

As soon as January 1 passed, I announced my plans to flush out my system.  And pretty much have to hit the bathroom between every single class of my school day.  I dictated to my parents what I would need to achieve my goal of losing fifty pounds.  Low calorie this.  Sugar free that.  To their credit, they got behind me.  And, frankly, if they were behind me at this point, you really couldn't see them.

Rim shot.

Along with the Stillman Diet, I started to exercise.  Every night at 7PM for thirty minutes, I would close the door to my room and do as many exercises as I could come up with.  Sit-ups, push-ups, twists, turns.  I had no clue what I was doing, but it sounded and felt right.

By April, I had lost it all. 

It's a fight to this day.   Now I have a personal trainer who is behind me every step of the way.   And, yes, sometimes you really can see her.

As I wrote above, there were other calendar and year flips that gave me cause to reflect on what the future was going to bring.

Two days before Christmas one year in my adulthood, I learned that my dad had probably six months to live.  When you're standing next to somebody's hospital bed on Christmas Day and know that these will be the very last holidays you will spend together, it provides an unsettling portent to the next year.  

And I've written before about my mother, several years later, in the hospital for a broken hip on New Year's Eve and suffering a heart attack that evening.   They brought her back because there was no DNR, but she was really gone.  Indeed, my very first act of that new year was to sign paperwork to basically let her go.   Again, another sweeping change that was occurring "conveniently" as the year was moving on.

In both these cases, it wasn't time for any silly resolutions.   It was really a time for reflect on the future.   And pick myself up to move on.

Two years later on New Year's Day in my Westchester apartment, I stared at the small artificial Christmas tree that had followed me from my childhood home with my parents all the way to my own place.  I thought about the new year and the change that was coming with it.   My writing partner and I had an agent and would be moving to Los Angeles in February.  A new beginning with all the hopes and dreams and fears attached.   This would be a move that I never would regret, regardless of what happened.  

I thought about all those Christmas memories on the East Coast.   Good ones.  Bad ones.  I found that the latter was overriding the former.  Sensory perception has kept me away from spending the holidays in New York ever since.  I did not know that as I stared at my mother's long time ornaments that day.   After packing them away in the box in the closet, I did not know that I would not open them ever again.

They're still there.  I'm still here.  Reflecting on the good years and the not-so-good years.   But, always looking forward to what the new year will bring.   Not in terms of weight loss or other inane barometers.   Friends, it's all about the big picture.   

Of course, as I promised, there are a few resolutions I make.   Most of them simply carry over from one year to the next.

Read more.   I don't really, unless I'm on an airplane.

Eat at least two meals a week that are meatless.   I told you the diet is still a struggle.   This is a promise I made to my personal trainer.  Along with losing 20 to 30 pounds to ease my newly replaced leg joints.

Go on a cruise with some friends.    It's on my list and has been for years.   It will happen.  Some day.

Spend more time with friends that are long in tenure.   I gravitate now to enjoy more frequently those that have shared histories with me.   If you knew my parents back when, even better.

Engage with friends more in a "one-on-one" basis.   Groups of five or more intimidate me.   Less is more.

Of course, I suppose I resolve to be less intimidated in larger groups.  Duh. 

Write more.   Hell, you see that happening every day.    And that reminds me of a New Year's pledge I made eight years ago.

Finish my screenplay.   You think I'm not re-purposing these Sunday Memory Drawers?   Wait till some of you see yourselves on the big screen.

Start my own blog.   

See, it is possible.   Now, excuse me while I go and do my morning stretches.

Dinner last night:  Chicken sausage and onion rings.

Classic TV Commercial of the Month - January 2026

In reality, he's crying because Cleveland renamed their baseball team "The Guardians.

Dinner last night:  Coq Au Vin at Jar.

Happy New Year...in the Slammer

 

Pity party in Cell Block H.

 Pippi Longstocking...the adult years.

 I love the bad red hair.  She probably calls herself Lu'Seal Ball.

 If you don't know what's wrong, I'm not going to tell you.

 67% of all prison inmates had fewer cavities after brushing with Crest.

 And, now, ladies and gentlemen, the larcenous stylings of...

 It's hard to believe this shirt didn't shrink after one washing.

 You're going to jail, not an audition for the national touring company of "Porgy and Bess."

 Yeah, the prison shower will be a lot mo than you can handle.

 She couldn't outrun the cops, but her eyeshadow sure could.

Dinner last night:  Leftover pizza.