The Last Summer Vacation Gasp

 I suppose this means you're scared.

 Grandma never paid attention to high or low tides.

 When you put too much hair gel on your dog.

 It's not the happiest place on Earth for everybody.

 Junior has hit the skids.

 Turn around!!!  Turn around!!!

 When you come home from vacation with one less kid.

 When you come home from vacation with one less sister.

 Moon Over Frisco.

 That's why they are called WILD animals.

 Does anybody wear these yellow slickers anymore??

Somebody's not happy that Lincoln freed the slaves.

Dinner last night: Hot link and baby back ribs at Holy Cow.

A Case of Morbid Curiosity

I have this problem.   While I am not the type of movie goer who runs to every single blockbuster, I frequently am drawn to a film when it inexplicably and unexpectedly makes a lot of money out of the blue.   For that reason, I was curious about "Black Panther."   I saw it and regret that I did.   

And, like that film, "Crazy Rich Asians" opened and EVERYBODY in the world went to see it the first two weekends.  Huh?   What is the draw here?

I was...as I say...curious.

Well, what I found was an entertaining little movie.   Worthy of all the hype and attention?  Absolutely not.  A good time waster on a summer's evening?   I'll bite.   I went on a Monday night and the theater was packed.  You never know what will grab the attention of the public.

Of course, we are in an era now where films all need to focus on some level of diversity.   They will get around to everybody sooner or later until the day we all have to go see "Lazy Lusty Lithuanians."   Right now, it's the Asian's turn.  But didn't they already get a spin of the bottle about twenty years ago with the release of "The Joy Luck Club?"

But I digress...

"Crazy Rich Asians" is nothing but a romcom ("romantic comedy") but focusing on one ethnicity.   We meet boyfriend and girlfriend Nick and Rachel living in New York.   He's been invited to a wedding back in Singapore and his whole family is going to be there.   He brings Rachel along as his plus one to meet the gang.   The only problem is that Nick never told Rachel just how rich his family is.   They virtually own Singapore and the surrounding islands.  

That's the plot and you know where it's going the minute it starts.   The thing plays off very much like Julia Roberts' "My Best Friend's Wedding" with lots of popular hit songs on the soundtrack covered by Chinese singers.   There is zero new territory farmed here.   The plot points are telegraphed so much that the guy down at Western Union must be tired.

But an interesting thing happens about two-thirds of the way through the movie.  I found myself liking the damn thing.   And it starts to tackle some deeper issues about love and family and honor that are totally unexpected. Plus the director Jon Chu features a production design that is part travelogue, part cartoon, and part Food Network.  You certainly want to visit Singapore and you damn well want to have a dumpling and fast.   

The film is sumptuous to watch even though, unrealistically, every single woman is gorgeous and every male character goes shirtless with washboard abs to boot.  All of the cast are overly literate and they all speak like they're living on the top floors at Downton Abbey.  Frankly, I recognized none of them except for that dopey Ken Jeong guy who shows up at Dodger Stadium a lot.  At the same time, they're all reasonably engaging and you wouldn't turn away any of them if they showed up at your front door.   And I don't mean that's because they're delivering Chinese food.

After two hours of this incredibly mindless entertainment, I was almost stunned.  I had been sucked in completely and even had a smile on my face.   

You could do a lot worse than "Crazy Rich Asians."   I wouldn't run to go see it.  But a leisurely and mannered walk wouldn't kill you.

LEN'S RATING:  Three stars.

Dinner last night:  Oddly enough....Chinese chicken chopped salad.

This Date in History - August 29

Happy birthday, former White House Press Secretary James Brady.  Wait, you're dead now?  Will somebody please get this right???

708:  COPPER COINS ARE MINTED IN JAPAN FOR THE FIRST TIME. 

Can slot machines be far behind?

1498:  VASCO DA GAMA DECIDES TO DEPART CALICUT AND RETURN TO PORTUGAL.

The name "Vasco" always sounded like a gas station to me.

1521:  THE OTTOMAN TURKS CAPTURE NANDORFEHERVAR, NOW KNOWN AS BELGRADE.

I bet it took them only thirty seconds before they decided to change that name.

1526:  THE OTTOMAN TURKS DEFEAT AND KILL THE KING OF HUNGARY AND BOHEMIA.

But those countries had names that were not hard to spell, so they retained them.

1541:  THE OTTOMAN TURKS CAPTURE BUDA, THE CAPITAL OF HUNGARY.

Damn those Ottoman Turks.  They're like the New York Yankees of the 50s.

1758:  THE FIRST AMERICAN INDIAN RESERVATION IS ESTABLISHED AT INDIAN MILLS, NEW JERSEY.

And, for a second time...can slot machines be far behind?

1778:  DURING THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION, BRITISH AND AMERICAN FOCRES BATTLE INDECISIVELY AT THE BATTLE OF RHODE ISLAND.

Just what the hell is an indecisive battle?  Nobody killed anybody??

1786:  SHAYS REBELLION, AN ARMED UPRISING OF MASSACHUSETTS FARMERS, BEGINS IN RESPONSE TO HIGH DEBT AND TAX BURDENS.

#OccupyVillageSquare.

1831:  MICHAEL FARADAY DISCOVERS ELECTROMAGNETIC INDUCTION.

He got a charge out of that.

1833:  THE UNITED KINGDOM LEGISLATES THE ABOLITION OF SLAVERY IN ITS EMPIRE.

As always, running ahead of the United States.

1835:  THE CITY OF MELBOURNE, AUSTRALIA, IS FOUNDED.

And can an Outback Steak House be far behind?

1842:  THE TREATY OF NANKING SIGNING ENDS THE FIRST OPIUM WAR.

Buzzkill.

1885:  GOTTLIEB DAIMLER PATENTS THE WORLD'S FIRST INTERNAL COMBUSTION MOTORCYCLE.

Who cares what gives them power?  They're all nuisances on the road.

1898:  THE GOODYEAR TIRE COMPANY IS FOUNDED.

When the rubber first met the road.

1898:  FILM DIRECTOR PRESTON STURGES IS BORN.

One of the most underrated comedic film directors of all time.  You want proof?   See "Sullivan's Travels," "The Miracle of Morgan Creek," or "The Palm Beach Story."

1907:  THE QUEBEC BRIDGE COLLAPSES DURING CONSTRUCTION, KILLING 75 WORKERS.

Talk about a bridge to nowhere.

1915:  ACTRESS INGRID BERGMAN IS BORN.

Oooh, I've read ahead.  Ingrid's one of those people who.....

1917:  ACTRESS ISABEL SANFORD IS BORN.

Weezie!!

1922:  FASHION CRITIC MR. BLACKWELL IS BORN.

Once met him a party and he died shortly thereafter.   Must have been something I said.

1922:  THE FIRST RADIO ANNOUNCEMENT IS BROADCAST ON WEAF-AM IN NEW YORK CITY.

Which means this is also the first time somebody changed a radio channel.

1926:  ACTRESS BETTY LYNN IS BORN.

Thelma Lou from the Andy Griffith Show!!!

1935:  DIRECTOR WILLIAM FRIEDKIN IS BORN.

The Power of Christ compels you!!

1936:  POLITICIAN JOHN MCCAIN IS BORN.

Loser.

1938:  ACTOR ELLIOTT GOULD IS BORN.

Once married to Streisand so I will go easy on him.  He's suffered enough.

1940:  WHITE HOUSE PRESS SECRETARY JAMES BRADY IS BORN.

He needed that job like a hole in the head.

1941:  TV HOST ROBIN LEACH IS BORN.

Lifestyles of the Rich and Talentless.

1943:  DURING WORLD WAR II, DENMARK SCUTTLES MOST OF ITS NAVY.

As opposed to waiting for Germany to destroy it.

1965:  THE GEMINI V SPACECRAFT RETURNS TO EARTH.  

Not really noteworthy news, unless they were secretly expecting it not to come back.

1966:  THE BEATLES PERFORM THEIR LAST CONCERT BEFORE FANS AT CANDLESTICK PARK IN SAN FRANCISCO.

And you can bet those fans froze their collective asses off.

1977:  ACTRESS JEAN HAGEN DIES.

Make Grave for Mommy.

1981:  BROADCASTER LOWELL THOMAS DIES.

Making news he would never get to report.

1982:  ACTRESS INGRID BERGMAN DIES.

....died on her birthday.

1985:  ACTRESS EVELYN ANKERS DIES.

Who, you say?   The female ingenue in the great Abbott and Costello film "Hold That Ghost," I say.

1987:  ACTOR LEE MARVIN DIES.

M (as in mortality) Squad.

1996:  VNUKOVO AIRLINES FLIGHT 2801 CRASHES INTO INTO THE ARCTIC ISLAND OF SPITSBERGEN, KILLING ALL 141 ABOARD.

Two points I will make.   I will never visit Spitsbergen.  And I certainly won;t fly there on Vnukovo Airlines.

2005:  HURRICANE KATRINA DEVASTATES MUCH OF THE GOLF COAST.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.  We heard.  And I will still say that New Orleans is run by the dumbest politicians this side of the Atlantic Ocean.   They knew those levees were faulty years ago and did nothing to repair them.

2016:  ACTOR GENE WILDER DIES.

"Put the candle back."

Dinner last night:  Hamburger.

Len's Recipe of the Month - August 2018

I'm still in a pickle.

Yep, fresh off my July recipe where I pickled some cherry tomatoes, I did the unimaginable.

I pickled some pickles.   It is so easy and the biggest challenge with this recipe is waiting a couple of days for the pickles to get...well...pickled.

If you like the bread and butter variety, read on.   If you like your pickles sour, come back tomorrow.

You probably could use a quart-sized Mason jar, but I had two of the smaller.  Get an English cucumber (they have wonderful flavor) and slice it with your mandolin.  Watch those fingers when you get down to the nub.

Divide the slices into two of the smaller jars.   Mince a clove of garlic for each jar.   

In a saucepan, mix the following:

A tablespoon of dill weed, minced.

A tablespoon of Kosher salt.

A cup and a 1/4 of apple cider vinegar.

A half cup of sugar.

Mix it altogether and bring it to a boil until the salt and sugar dissolve.   Pour it into the jars and cover the pickles.

Refrigerate and try to resist opening them for at least four days.

Enjoy!

Dinner last night:  Leftover sausage, peppers, and onions.

Monday Morning Video Laugh - August 27, 2018

Sad to say that this has happened to all of us.

Dinner last night:  Ribeye steak and salad.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - The Travel Day From Heck

I don't want to say "hell."  After all, it is Sunday.

I did another cross country round trip by air last week and I certainly don't fly as much as I used.   My million mile status with American has dwindled but, as I look back at my career in the air, I realized that I was pretty lucky all those years.   Not a lot of horrible delays to speak of.   But I will never forget one from 11 years ago.   It was so memorable that I actually had the foresight to keep a journal that day.   Read below and you will see what real torture is.

Ah, yes.  Tuesday, August 21, 2007.

Only in the great US of A.

Now, as I said,  I've pretty much flown American Airlines exclusively during my bi-coastal era. They had pretty much been satisfactory up until this point in 2007.   I know I would always encounter the usual hand-wringing drama when flying into Newark Airport, which is the Mack Sennett of air terminals. But, the travel crisis benchmark has risen dramatically of late. Along with several horror stories of my own, I have heard a myriad of nightmares from friends. There is something going on someplace.

I can only relate this date as it unfolded in a timeline. I am simply attempting to fly from LAX to Newark.

6:00AM Pacific: Beverly Hills Cab picks me up at my Los Angeles home. I mention to the driver that I pay by credit card. He says he knows. All the drivers know me. That is sad. I feel like some old guy that gets picked up for his dialysis three times a week.

6:20AM Pacific: I get dropped off at LAX. American Airlines Terminal 4. I use the Platinum automatic check-in. My bag is overweight as usual. They ding me $25. My suitcase along weighs 30 pounds and they allow 50 total. The check-in lady is quite nice. She notes my last name is German and mentions that hers is as well. We chat each other up with some basic German phrases and ultimately sing "Au Du Lieber Augustine" together.

6:35AM Pacific: I get through Homeland Insecurity. The dothead in front of me jams the machine by trying to put a hula hoop through.

6:55AM Pacific: I seat myself down at Gate 48B for my 815AM flight to Newark. I am third on the upgrade list. I look outside and note there is no plane at the gate.

7:05AM Pacific: A plane pulls up to the gate. The pilots sit inside for several minutes.

7:10AM Pacific: The pilots back the plane from the gate and leave.

7:15AM Pacific: There is an announcement that Flight 114 to Newark has been cancelled. And we are to report to Gate 42B for personal assistance from AA.

7:20AM Pacific: The so-called "personal assistance" is some snarky Black woman who essentially gives you a piece of paper that apologizes for your inconvenience and tells you to call a 800 number for help. But, she tells you to first go to Luggage Claim area 1 to get your baggage which is being returned to you. The first reason given for the cancellation is weather. It is pouring in New York. And there is a hurricane headed for Mexico, which I guess is close enough to New Jersey. This will be the first of a series of bizarro explanations I will get today for the Newark cancellation. I will also hear blame put on weather, equipment failure, global warming, and George Bush.

7:30AM Pacific: At the baggage claim, I first place a F-bomb-laden voicemail to my roommate. As I wait for my luggage, I place a call to American's help line, which is no help. She tells me I won't be able to get a flight to either JFK or Newark for three days. I could get to JFK on Wednesday if I spent Tuesday night at DFW in Dallas. Then, suddenly, there is an available seat on Tuesday's 415PM to JFK. I grab it. Another Newark passenger hears this and says he just got an available seat on the 12Noon to JFK. Huh?

7:45AM Pacific: Since it's essentially gone nowhere, it makes no sense that it takes almost 25 minutes for my luggage to show up. I pulled it off the turntable and head up to Ticketing for the real story.

7:50AM Pacific: At Ticketing, I run into my fraulein friend again who is most helpful. She tells me all flights to JFK are booked, but I probably could get out earlier than 415PM by going on the standby list. She says that, with my Platinum status, this should be a cinch. She tickets my luggage for the 930AM flight to JFK. My suitcase is going. At the moment, I still am not. At least not definitely until 415PM.

755AM Pacific: I head to the gate for the 930AM flight to JFK, but first I must make my second pass through Homeland Unsecurity. No hula hoop this time, but much confusion when some old bag refuses to remove her orthopedic oxfords.

810AM Pacific: I am becoming quite proficient at security screening. While doing so, I call Hertz Gold Club and move my rental pickup from Newark to JFK. I have a hard time explaining to some loon named "Kanisha" that I don't know what flight I am on. I fail to get a laugh when I suggest my suitcase come and pick up the car.

820AM Pacific: Now, at Gate 42B to check on my standby status for 930AM. I am seventh on the list of 47!

840AM Pacific: I have somehow dropped down to ninth on the list, while doing nothing but sitting quietly and doing my Sudoku puzzle in the LA Times.

905AM Pacific: Some AA martinet announces that there will be no standbys for 930AM. We are all being rolled over to the 11AM flight. She makes a plug for the Admirals Club by telling everybody it would be a good day to join.

915AM Pacific: I join the Admirals Club. I make friends with one of the attendants up there who promises to check in on my standby status every 15 minutes.

920AM Pacific: I head to the quieter business section of the Admirals Club.

930AM Pacific: I leave the quieter business section of the Admirals Club because of the noise. Two girls are screaming to each other across the room in French. I secretly wonder why the Nazis were even interested in that country in the first place.

945AM Pacific: Munching on cookies at the snack bar, I overhear some AA workers still buzzing over the fact that Brad Pitt was stuck there for five hours on Monday.

955AM Pacific: Just as I find a quiet place to camp out, in comes a couple with two strollers and babies attached. They, too, speak French. Was there an occupation and nobody told me?

1020AM Pacific: My counter friend finds me and announces that I will not make the 11AM but I have been rolled over to 12 Noon. Her sincere sadness at telling me this made her momentarily dateable.

1055AM Pacific: I top out at Level 13 on my Black Berry's version of Brickbraker.

1100AM Pacific: I call my friend the Bibster in NY and quote my favorite alltime Billy Wilder line, which was used in two of his movies. "I feel like I'm in Hell with my back broken."

1120AM Pacific: My counter friend tells me that the 12 Noon is out for me, but I have been rolled again to the 1PM. A little less sadness this time. I think she has met someone else.

1215PM Pacific: I look out the windows and see lots of planes leaving with happy passengers. I feel like Tom Hanks in the Terminal. A new counter person finds me to say that the 1PM will not be an option. Apparently, my exile there has already outlived the other woman's shift. I have rolled over again to the 3PM. At this point, my confirmed 415PM really seems to make the most sense.

2PM Pacific: It dawns on me that I have no recollection of the last seventy five minutes. I realize that I had fallen asleep on a chair in a public place. If I live the day, I make a note to kill myself.

230PM Pacific: I use 5 bucks to get 15 minutes out of a massage chair. While getting my neck rubbed, the 3PM standby option gets rubbed out.

320PM Pacific: I head to the gate for the 415PM plane. Good news. I am number two on the upgrade list. Bad news: 29 of 30 passengers have checked in.

330PM Pacific: Knowing I won't be eating fancy on the plane, I seek out some prepackaged alternative in the airport. I opt for a ham and swiss cheese sandwich from Starbucks.

345PM Pacific: I finally board a plane. Flight 180. An Arabic family of acrobats pushes past me to board first.

400PM Pacific: Sitting in the first row of coach, I get to watch all the more important people in Business and First. I can smell their food cooking. The seat next to me is now occupied by a young Asian guy.

402PM Pacific: I have a horrible realization. I have packed two films from the latest Charlie Chan box set for my on-plane viewing and I am now sitting next to this Asian guy.

410PM Pacific: The flight attendant calls my name. For some strange reason, they can now upgrade me. I give the Asian kid my Starbucks sandwich and grab the seat improvement.

420PM Pacific: We finally take off. I immediately wish myself there by resetting my watch.

830PM Eastern: I polish off a meal of beef tenderloin and grilled asparagus. I eat it despite hating asparagus. I am just happy to do anything that involves forward movement. I heartily accept three offers to refill my glass of red wine.

1110PM Eastern: There is a French businessman across the row. He is playing with some loopy Powerpoint presentation. One of his associates comes from another seat and stands in the aisle to discuss it. As he keeps bending over to look at the computer, he props his ass squarely in my face. I use my elbow to poke him in the thigh a few times, but he doesn't get the message. I consider using my Sudoku pencil to help him get the point.

1125PM Eastern: The flight attendant finally tells the Frog to hittez les bricques. I applaud as he walks away and he gives the look of an evil guard at the Bastille.

1135PM Eastern: I notice that Frenchy has dropped his Black Berry holster on the floor. I get up to go to the bathroom and simultaneously kick it underneath some seats.

1245AM Eastern: We land at JFK! I immediately check for the baseball scores. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Pepe Le Pew looking around every which way. Did he lose something?

105AM Eastern: AA Baggage Claim is about two miles from the gates at JFK. The long walk makes me realize how weak my legs feel. Like a catcher who just crouched for 17 innings.

108AM Eastern: I approach some baggage attendant and inquire where I can find my suitcase which arrived six hours earlier. He points me to an area where there are at least five hundred pieces of luggage. There are dazed people all walking around looking for their belongings. Every suitcase is examined as passengers appear lost.

125AM Eastern: Unable to find my bag, I go to Baggage Claim, where the line is 15 deep. I chat amiably with a woman who just traveled 40 hours from Australia. Okay, your day is worse than mine, Aussie Chick.

130AM Eastern: Some huge Black cow barges in and cuts the line completely. The outback lady calls her out and Miss Fat Thing waves her off in her best Post Office dismissive style.

135AM Eastern: I notice that most of the people working the counter don't speak English. Losing your luggage must be an ethnic thing.

140AM Eastern: It is finally my turn. I show the guy my claim ticket. He takes me to a back room and immediately points me to my suitcase. It felt like a reunion after World War II.

155AM Eastern: As I wait for the airtrain to take me to Hertz, I look around at the others out and about. There is a cutoff time each day in NY. At some time around 1AM, there are no Caucasians out in public. I survey the platform and wonder if I am in either Bolivia or Kenya.

205AM Eastern: There's one poor slob manning the desk at Hertz. I might have been hard on Kanisha. My reservation was perfectly intact.

215AM Eastern: As I am exiting the Hertz lot, the warning light on the dashboard goes off. MAINTENANCE REQUIRED.

225AM Eastern: I exit the Hertz lot with my second shot at a rental car.

250AM Eastern: I arrive in my Westchester apartment.

300AM Eastern: I put in my nightguard and hit the pillow.

Every time I book a trip now, I pray that it won't end up like August 21, 2007.

Dinner last night:  Home made sausage, peppers, and onions made with veggies and heirloom tomatoes from a local farmer's market.

Classic Movie Trailer of the Month - August 2018

Get yourself some VIP.   See the movie and you'll know what I mean.   A trailer from the days when they really knew how to do them.

Dinner last night:  Grilled beef knockwurst.

The Slob in Seat 14C

Having just flown last week, I once again am newly appreciative of the Instagram site #passengershaming.  That's the place where you can expose the pigs around us at 35,000 feet.   PS, does anybody own shoes??

Dinner last night:  Barbecue chopped salad.

A Movie That Will Lick Your Face

I was in NY with a free night and the weather was sticky.   I decided to rely on somebody else's air conditioning (just like when I was a kid) and I bee-bopped over to the Dobbs Ferry iPic and literally selected this movie because it was starting...well...in 15 minutes.

One of those lucky strokes of magic.   Because this movie...one I knew nothing about...was thoroughly charming and engaging.   

Yay for "Dog Days!"

Oh, it won't win any awards.   Nobody blows up in it.  There's not a Marvel superhero within reach.   There are no really big name stars.   The biggest might be Eva Longoria, the old Black guy from "This is Us," and one of the kids from "Stranger Things."   But, nevertheless, "Dog Days" is pleasant and brings you a smile and a laugh.   That's all I wanted.   Oh, yeah, and the A/C on blast.

We've seen this plot line thousands of times before.  There are six or seven disjointed stories about folks living out some personal drama in Los Angeles.  One is a Kelly Ripa-like morning host.  Another is a would-be rock musician.  Oh, yeah, there's the now obligatory Starbucks barista.  There's a bunch of others.   What brings them together in "Dog Days" is...wait for it...dogs.   Some are pets.  Others are waiting for adoption.   This production has the cutest dogs imaginable and they all know how to pose for the camera.

What the hell could be wrong with this?

As it turns out, nothing at all.   While some of the entanglements are predictable, others are not and I was genuinely surprised by some turns in the script written by Elissa Matsueda and Erica Oyama, the latter who just happens to be the wife of the director Ken Marino.   I'm guessing they got their dog in the picture, too.

And, oh, just so you know, one dog doesn't make it.   Of course, when you have a movie with a lot of pooches, you can always expect that there will be that heart tugging scene where an owner has to put his dog down.   Even that, in "Dog Days," was done in clever fashion.

Again, this one is not going to set the world on fire.   But there were some sparks ignited and I soon realized that it wasn't just the air conditioning that I was digging in this theater.

Moreover, it made me want to go home and hug my dog.  Oh, wait, I don't have one.

Maybe I should rescue one.

LEN'S RATING:  Three-and-a-half stars.

Dinner last night:  Sandwich.

This Date in History - August 22

Happy birthday, Rhoda.  Sorry things didn't work out with Joe.

392:  ARBOGAST HAS EUGENIUS ELECTED WESTERN ROMAN EMPEROR.

So the Roman Empire had divisions like the National League?

476:  ODOACER IS NAMED REX ITALIAE BY HIS TROOPS.

And Lerner and Loewe named Rex Harrison to be Henry Higgins.

565:  ST. COLUMBA REPORTS SEEING A MONSTER IN LOCH NESS, ENGLAND.

And what Loch Ness tavern did St. Columbia stop at on his way home?

851:  DURING THE BATTLE OF JENGLAND, ERISPOE DEFEATS CHARLES THE BALD.

No, that's not a typo.   I wrote it correctly.  Jengland.

1559:  BARTOLOME CARRANZA, SPANISH ARCHBISHOP, IS ARRESTED FOR HERESY.

If he was nabbed in a foreign country, he would be arrested for theresy.

1642:  CHARLES I CALLS THE ENGLISH PARLIAMENT TRAITORS AS THEIR CIVIL WAR BEGINS.

Traitors may not be the worst thing.   It's bad enough they have to wear those goofy white wigs.

1654:  JACOB BARSIMSON ARRIVES IN NEW AMSTERDAM AND IS THE FIRST KNOWN JEWISH IMMIGRANT TO AMERICA.

Of course, in the phone book, he was listed as "Jack Barr."

1717:  SPANISH TROOPS LAND IN SARDINIA.

Home of the canned fish.

1791:  BEGINNING OF THE HAITIAN SLAVE REVOLUTION IN SAINT-DOMINGUE.

And when they were done there, they moved en masse to my hometown of Mount Vernon, New York.

1831:  NAT TURNER'S SLAVE REVOLUTION COMMENCES AT MIDNIGHT IN VIRGINIA.

And the special entertainment that night came from Nat's sister, Tina.

1848:  THE UNITED STATES ANNEXES NEW MEXICO.

Fitting name given the holes in the fence on their southern border.

1862:  COMPOSER CLAUDE DEBUSSY IS BORN.

La Mer!

1864:  THE RED CROSS IS FORMED.

Donuts for everybody!

1893:  WRITER DOROTHY PARKER IS BORN.

Famed for one of my favorite literary lines:  "If you've got nothing good to say about somebody, come sit by me."

1902:  CADILLAC MOTOR COMPANY IS FORMED.

Gas guzzling had to start some time.

1902:  TEDDY ROOSEVELT BECOMES THE FIRST PRESIDENT OF THE US TO RIDE IN AN AUTOMOBILE.

I bet he was smart enough to keep the top on it.

1920:  WRITER RAY BRADBURY IS BORN.

And he died just last month.

1925:  ACTRESS HONOR BLACKMAN IS BORN.

Pussy Galore!  Enough said.

1926:  GOLD IS DISCOVERED IN SOUTH AFRICA.

In them thar apartheid hills.

1932:  THE BBC FIRST EXPERIMENTS WITH TELEVISION BROADCASTING.

Thank God.   Without this day, we would never have gotten "Downton Abbey."

1939:  ACTRESS VALERIE HARPER IS BORN.

I once saw her get in the head with a roll at a restaurant.   True story.  Meanwhile, she's still hanging in there after that cancer diagnosis several years ago.

1939:  BASEBALL STAR CARL YASTRZEMSKI IS BORN.

Ya, bum, ya.

1942:  DURING WORLD WAR II, BRAZIL DECLARES WAR ON GERMANY AND ITALY.

Oh, I bet that really scared them.

1947:  ACTRESS CINDY WILLIAMS IS BORN.

Schlamiegel, schlamogel.

1950:  ALTHEA GIBSON BECOMES THE FIRST BLACK COMPETITOR IN INTERNATIONAL TENNIS.

Game set match.

1952:  THE PENAL COLONY ON DEVIL'S ISLAND IS PERMANENTLY CLOSED.

So you August vacationers will need to figure out something else for the last week of the month.

1962:  AN ATTEMPT TO ASSASSINATE FRENCH PRESIDENT CHARLES DE GAULLE FAILS.

Must be the same idiot who botched the chance to kill Al Sharpton.

1968:  POPE PAUL VI ARRIVES IN BOGOTA, COLOMBIA.  IT IS THE FIRST VISIT OF A POPE TO LATIN AMERICA.

Viva Le Pope Mobile.

1977:  ACTOR SEBASTIAN CABOT DIES.

Mr. French!

1989:  THE FIRST RING OF NEPTUNE IS DISCOVERED.

Turns out it was only Cubic Zirconium.

1989:  NOLAN RYANS BECOMES THE FIRST MAJOR LEAGUE BASEBALL PITCHER TO RECORD 5,000 STRIKEOUTS.

Yeah, nice trade, Mets.

1989:  ACTIVIST HUEY NEWTON DIES.

Good riddance.

1991:  ACTRESS COLLEEN DEWHURST DIES.

Once married to George C. Scott.  I would have liked to be a fly on the wall with one of their marital squabbles.

1996:  BILL CLINTON SIGNS WELFARE REFORM INTO LAW.

Yeah, that lasted.   All completely undone by now.

2007:  THE TEXAS RANGERS ROUT THE BALTIMORE ORIOLES, 30-3, THE MOST RUNS SCORED BY A TEAM IN MODERN MLB HISTORY.

My worst nightmare?  They scored 30 runs on all singles.

2011:  SONGWRITER NICK ASHFORD DIES.

Simpson now looking for a new partner.

2011:  SONGWRITER JERRY LEIBER DIES.

Simpson, please say hello to Stoller.

Dinner last night:  Leftover tortellini.

All the Pain, All the Torture

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Monday Morning Video Laugh - August 20, 2018

The dog days of summer.

Dinner last night:  Tortellini in marinara sauce.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - Everybody's "Cousin"

Driving around Westchester last weekend with Sirius in my rental car, I dialed one more time into a legendary radio voice.  Indeed, when the weather is warm, hearing him invokes childhood summer memories galore.

Yep, New Yorkers will remember this chatterbox well. I grew up on his constantly cracking voice, spinning the hits on 77WABC. When they shitcanned the music on that radio station, Cousin Bruce Morrow went off to the oldies-laden WCBS-FM, where his Saturday night dance party thrived for decades. The problem always was that it's tough to dance when the DJ doesn't shut up and spin the platters.

I've rediscovered Cousin Brucie again on Sirius Radio.  His Saturday night soiree is on the Sixties Channel and it is weird to drive around LA and listen to this quintessential New Yorker. Still, whenever I tune in, I am taken back to days of my youth. 

And an infamous day in my young adulthood. When I got into an argument with Cousin Brucie.

It was early in my own radio career and back in New York. In those days, local radio stations actually had money to promote themselves. And, once a year, there was a big event where they each participated in a carnival at some hotel ballroom. They'd set up booths and you're join in on the spinning wheels, games of chance, dunk tanks, etc.. It was a lot of fun.

One year, Brucie was promoting this group of NY suburban stations that he owned. Naturally, it was ideal for him to set up a booth which he himself manned. With a simple enough game. On the wall was a big map of New York State with big red dots on those towns where Brucie owned a station. You had to take a dart and throw. If you landed on one of the red dots, Brucie would present you with a new Sony Walkman.  Remember those?

As I ambled by, Brucie beckoned me over like a gypsy in a rundown storefront.

"Come on, Cousin, let's see what you can do."

Given I'm not either Irish or English and given that I rarely frequent pubs in the countryside, I'm not a dart thrower. But, back then, a new Sony Walkman was a beautiful thing. I walked to the counter and grabbed a dart.

It landed not directly on the red dot, but the dart was certainly touching the little decal. Even the folks I was with acknowledged that I was a winner. Brucie, however, begged to differ.

"Sorry, Cousin, thanks for trying."

I suggested that I could do little to improve what I had achieved. A dart touching the red dot.

"Not close enough, Cousin. Maybe later."

I realized that Brucie had brought along ten Walkman devices for the day and was intending to go home with just as many. Cheap bastard. I asked him how much closer I needed to be to get that Walkman.

"Cousin, you've got to be better than that."

Huh? The dart was resting on the red dot in a better fit than that toupee had on his head. We went back and forth and it got a little louder. He kept calling me "Cousin." I had to wound him. 

"Brucie, I've got six cousins and you're not one of them."

The man looked destroyed. He could not respond. I walked away, Walkman-less. With a smile on my face. I had finally achieved the impossible.

Cousin Brucie was speechless.  Finally.

Dinner last night:  Orange beef and shrimp.