Classic TV Commercial of the Month - July 2025

I apologize for the quality, but it is Joey Heatherton after all.  And do they still make this soda???

Dinner last night:  Japanese hot dog at the Dodger game.

Folks Who Won't Be Able to See Fireworks From Their Jail Cells

 

Honey, you do realize that this photo is not for the school yearbook.

He's ready just in case his jail cell has some cracked ceiling plaster.

Yes, you can...in about three to six years.

Will this be enough change for you?

Color of eyes: blue.  I mean, black.  I mean, black and blue.

That's what she gets for being nosy.

Oh, my God!  They've arrested Doc Severinsen!

Oh, my God!  They've arrested Bert Lahr as the Cowardly Lion!

Yeah, that's a talent that will come in handy when you hit the women's showers.

That's either a bad dye job or a vintage Montreal Expo cap on her head.

Dinner last night:  Sandqich.

Who Knew?

 

The calling card for a good documentary works on several levels.  It educates.   It brings you into a world you know nothing about.  And, for me, a great one prompts two words out of me upon its conclusion.

Who knew?

I ask that over and over when the HBO doc "My Mom Jayne" concluded.   I had no idea what the story was behind this amazing film directed with passion by Jayne's daughter Mariska Hargitay.

Now I knew very little about the actress Mansfield except that she was a bargain basement version of Marilyn Monroe.  I don't think I ever saw a single thing she acted in.  I did know that she was married for a while to Mr. Universe, Mickey Hargitay.  And she was killed in an auto accident which comes equipped with an urban legend that she was beheaded.   (Research tells me that's not true).   Other than that, my Jayne knowledge was at a minimum.

And, despite the fact that she starred on that Law and Order series for 80 or so TV seasons, I knew little about Mariska.   She takes care of that here.   She provides this amazing in-depth look at the lady who was killed when she was just three years old.   She knew nothing about her mom.   And, as the years passed, she learned more than she could ever imagine.  And this viewer had the same discoveries all along the way.

Many people probably are not surprised about the second half of this film, but I indeed was.   And, so as not to spoil the same wonderment I experienced, I won't say much more than that in this review.   Just suffice it to say, there are siblings who are not really siblings and others who are.   Parents you thought you knew.  Parents who appear suddenly out of the woodwork.

At every turn, there is a big reveal and I wonder how Mariska got through it all.  Indeed, I'm sure she's been in analysis over all this for years.   And, as a result of her work on this film, she's probably re-upped with her shrink for another ten years.

And again I ask.  Who knew?   See this astounding movie and learn like I did.

LEN'S RATING:  Five stars.

Dinner last night:  Hot dogs at the Hollywood Bowl.

This Date in History - July 2

 

Happy birthday, Lindsay Lohan.   From the looks of it, this could be your last.

437:  EMPEROR VALENTINIAN III BEGINS HIS REIGN OVER THE WESTERN ROMAN EMPIRE.  

Who's running the Eastern Roman Empire?

626:  LI SHIMIN, THE FUTURE EMPEROR TAIZONG OF TANG, AMBUSHES AND KILLS HIS RIVAL BROTHER LI YUANJI AND LI JIANCHENG IN THE XUANWU GATE INCIDENT.

Hey, that sentence is one helluva of a typing test.

963: THE IMPERIAL ARMY PROCLAIMS NICEPHORUS PHOCAS EMPEROR OF THE ROMANS ON THE PLAINS OUTSIDE CAPPADOCIAN CAESAREA. 

Typing test, following semester.

1555:  THE OTTOMAN ADMIRAL TURGUT REIS SACKS THE ITALIAN CITY OF PAOLA.

Paola?  Didn't that impact the record industry?

1561:  MENAS, EMPEROR OF ETHIOPIA, DEFEATS A REVOLT IN EMFRAZ.

No joke to type.   Fingers need a rest after the last couple of dates.

1582:  DURING THE BATTLE OF YAMAZAKI, TOYOTOMI HIDEYOSHI DEFEATS AKECHI MITSUHIDE.

Toyotomi Cares.

1679:  EUROPEANS FIRST VISIT MINNESOTA AND SEE HEADWATERS OF MISSISSIPPI IN AN EXPEDITION.

But did they stop at the Mall of America?

1698:  THOMAS SAVERY PATENTS THE FIRST STEAM ENGINE.

Choo choo.

1776:  THE CONTINENTAL CONGRESS ADOPTS A RESOLUTION SEVERING TIES WITH THE KINGDOM OF BRITAIN ALTHOUGH THE THE OFFICIAL WORDING OF THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE IS NOT APPROVED UNTIL JULY 4.

Well, there's always a first draft.

1777:  VERMONT BECOMES THE FIRST AMERICAN TERRITORY TO ABOLISH SLAVERY.

For all those slaves tapping trees to make maple syrup.

1822:  35 BLACK SLAVES ARE HANGED IN SOUTH CAROLINA.

They should have moved to Vermont when they had the chance.

1839: TWENTY MILES OFF THE COAST OF CUBA, 53 REBELLING AFRICAN SLAVES TAKE OVER THE SLAVE SHIP AMISTAD.

They should have also taken over the production of Amistad, that awful Steven Spielberg movie.

1881:  CHARLES J. GUITEAU SHOOTS AND FATALY WOUNDS US PRESIDENT JAMES GARFIELD, WHO EVENTUALLY DIES FROM AN INFECTION ON SEPTEMBER 19.

Do you remember where you were when Garfield was shot?

1897:  ITALIAN SCIENTIST GUGLIELMO MARCONI OBTAINS A PATENT FOR RADIO IN LONDON.

It will never last.

1900:  THE FIRST ZEPPELIN FLIGHT TAKES PLACE IN GERMANY.

Where else?

1932:  WENDY'S FOUNDER DAVE THOMAS IS BORN.

Here's the beef.

1937:  AMELIA EARHART AND NAVIGATOR FRED NOONAN ARE LAST HEARD FROM OVER THE PACIFIC OCEAN WHILE ATTEMPTING TO MAKE THE FIRST EQUATORIAL ROUND-THE-WORLD FLIGHT.

And they'll find her sooner than they will find that damn Malaysian plane.

1937:  ACTRESS POLLY HOLLIDAY IS BORN.

Kiss her grits.

1947:  LUCI BAINES JOHNSON IS BORN.  

She's the one who dated George Hamilton, right?  But, then again, who didn't?

1962:  THE FIRST WAL-MART OPENS FOR BUSINESS IN ARKANSAS.

Again...where else?

1964:  US PRESIDENT LYNDON B. JOHNSON SIGNS THE CIVIL RIGHTS ACT OF 1964.

A nice way to spend your daughter's birthday.

1973:  ACTRESS BETTY GRABLE DIES.

But the legs?   What about the legs???

1986:  ACTRESS LINDSAY LOHAN IS BORN.

And was immediately arrested.

1991:  ACTRESS LEE REMICK DIES.

Days of Wine and Corpses.

1993:  ACTOR FRED GWYNNE DIES.

Hearse 54, Where Are You?

1997:  ACTOR JAMES STEWART DIES.

Mr. Hobbs Takes a Very Long Vacation.

1999:  AUTHOR MARIO PUZO DIES.

The author of the infamous Page 27 of the Godfather.

2002:  STEVE FOSSETT BECOMES THE FIRST PERSON TO FLY SOLO AROUND THE WORLD NONSTOP IN A BALLOON.

So Amelia Earhart should have taken a balloon instead?

2006:  COMEDIAN JAN MURRAY DIES.

X gets the casket.

2007:  OPERA SINGER BEVERLY SILLS DIES.

Her last solo.

Dinner last night:   Had a big lunch, so just a sandwich.

More Than I Can Bear

 

Sorry for the pun.  But it fits.

Here's one of those streamed TV shows that I follow and I don't know why.  Actually, I do.   Embedded deep down in this Hulu series is the inner workings of being a chef and opening a restaurant.   That is indeed fascinating to me.

The rest of it?   Pure garbage.   It's like getting invited for a dinner featuring food I detest but there's the promise of a spoonful of a nifty dessert.

I watch because I long for that dessert.   It has yet to appear.

We're into Season 4 already and I can easily compartmentalize (wow, what a word) this series.   Season 1 introduced you to all the characters in a restaurant kitchen and the frenetic pace that goes with it.   The pace was exhausting but I hung in there.

Season 2 was interesting.  It actually had a plot and a direction and you started to care about a few of the characters.  Season 3 was an absolute mess with dangling plots and new characters and overwritten scenes drove the show into a bus station urinal.

To make matters even more insulting, "The Bear" competes in the Emmy categories for comedy and that is ridiculous.  There is very little funny about this show and its very mentally damaged cast of characters.  But my suspicion is that it's the only way the creator-show runner Christopher Storer can compete for gold and he grabs that opportunity.

Indeed, I believe that it's Storer who is the problem with this series.   As seasons have passed and accolades have been bestowed, the show has completely become his vanity project.   He's buying his own press and essentially doing what he wants, which is a big FU to the viewing audience.   No plot?  He doesn't care.  Long drawn out scenes that are clearly there for the Emmy reel?  He doesn't care.  Plot points that are introduced and dropped?  He doesn't care.

So, Season 4 has dropped and, like a patsy, I'm already four episodes in.   Storer has set up the bare bones of story development and then suddenly upends it by devoting a single episode to one of the characters babysitting for a friend's kid.

WTF?

Now am I getting off this bumpy ride?  Nope.  Should I?  Yes.

But I keep hearing about this decadent dessert.

Dinner last night:  Grilled steak salad.

Monday Morning Video Laugh - June 30, 2025

Father and Bride month concludes with this classic scene from...wait for it..."Father of the Bride."

Dinner last night:  Ribeye steak.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - The Usual Independence Day

 

I've come a long way from running up and down 15th Avenue in Mount Vernon with a sparkler in my hand.

Over the course of my life, I've gone through several series of different celebrations for Independence Day, which is really one of the only holidays everybody in this country can celebrate together. There are no religious overtones like Christmas, Easter, or Yom Kippur. It is all about freedom and being an American. Except maybe for your crazy Communist Uncle Oscar, who can't get into that?

So, there were the years for me when I was a kid and I did the sparkler routine like I was some lunatic Rockette on fire. While the other kids in the neighborhood were shooting off cherry bombs, sky rockets, and a very inappropriately named explosive called a "chaser" (with that pesky N word attached---nobody knew any better then), I was relegated to nothing more inflammable than my mother's ash tray. Of course, years later, I still had the ability to attempt to play the piano, while I'm not so sure some of my goofball friends could count their fingers up to ten.

Truth be told, my folks didn't want me anywhere near this stuff.   And, frankly, neither did I.   Around the age of five, I had one previous experience playing with matches.   And the pain has lingered for many, many years.

So we made our own fun in the backyard usually with some relatives over to celebrate.  A big deal was a croquet set that got dragged out as if we were on the Downton Abbey grounds.   This was a big deal for my older cousins to play.   I, however, didn't realize that the object of the game was to tap the ball lightly with your mallet.  This was not a sport where Willie Mays power should have been employed as our broken garage window will attest.

Those July 4 family gatherings in the yard usually found a bunch of relatives lounging in a long line of beach chairs as you see above.   That's my grandfather with the can of beer.   That's me in summer attire with my mom in the background.   The chrome dome is one of my dad's childhood chums.   

This photo of our lawn furniture evokes one of the more ghastly memories.   One year, some screwy distant relative was probably loaded up on Miller High Life and was telling dirty jokes.   Well, I am guessing they were dirty because I didn't understand them.  Nevertheless, raucous laughter erupted from the others.   One lady got so hysterical that she literally shit right through her shorts.   And a mound of crap wound up on that beach chair and it would have made a German Shepherd proud.   In my family, you never threw anything out.  Dad simply washed off the chair and made it "as good as new." For years, I saw that lawn chair with its big, brown stain.   And I never ever sat on it.

I know there were some families that regularly went to see fireworks on the night of July 4th.   Unfortunately, those events usually fell into the vortex of my father's travel restrictions.    All destinations could be ruled out by one of the following stipulations:

It's too far.

It's too crowded.

It's too hot/cold...depending upon the season.

Fireworks displays usually hit the latter two.  But, there was one year where Dad was feeling a little adventurous.

Apparently, the nearby town of Tuckahoe was shooting off some fireworks on a high school field.   Okay, that was close enough.   And how crowded could something in Tuckahoe get?  This excursion was going to be even more special. 

Even Grandma would come along.   

This was momentous as my grandmother never went any place 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 not amused.

"Next year, I stay home."

She turned to look at me.

"Dumkopf."

When I got older, I outgrew firecrackers and found myself spending the Fourth of July in some baseball park. And, to enjoy this truly American sport on this truly American holiday, I wasn't choosy about the stadium I would enter. Whoever was playing home was where I would be. Shea Stadium. Yankee Stadium. I didn't care. It was baseball and sometimes fireworks and always perfect. 

I can remember one year there was a doubleheader for the Mets and Tom Seaver took a no-hitter into the ninth inning. One other year, there was a day game at Yankee Stadium, where it was hotter than hell and there was an explosion of gnats on the field level.

Nowadays, I am in my Hollywood Bowl/Dodger Stadium/July 4 phase of life. This year, the Dodgers are home and shooting off some shit on the day, Two days earlier, I am at the Bowl seated upon the hill that overlooks Highland. Listening. Absorbing. Enjoying. And, tomorrow night, it will happen one more time.  The musical act will be Earth Wind and Fire...or whatever passes for them in 2025.   I am guessing there will be a bunch of 70-year-olds in the aisle, slow dancing to "That's The Way of the World" like they're back at the North Hollywood High junior prom.

Whatever.   I will enjoy once again the wonders of fireworks and July 4.   Hopefully, I won't get so excited that I mess the seat I'm sitting in.

Dinner last night:  Orange chicken Lo Mein