Hollywood Then and Now - March 2026

 

There is nothing more regal and stately than an old department store.   We're not talking Walmart here, folks.   This is the famed May Company store that sits at the intersection of Fairfax and Wilshire.  It is the place where...allegedly...Jack Benny first met his wife Mary Livingstone as she worked behind one of the counters.

Well, the building is still there.   And it has a bit of a show biz motif.   The place was converted to house the Motion Picture Academy's museum and headquarters. 

 So, a nice transition, right?

WRONG!

In its new iteration, the new tenant of the building has created a badly designed mess.  Oh, sure, the motion picture history is here.  And there are some marvelous theaters for screenings.   That is, if you want to see "diverse" movies.  Seemingly, that's all they show there.

What's worse is the ADA access for those museum goers with mobility issues.  The ADA parking is either non-existent or a long crawl away.  And the bathroom access for those going to see a movie.   Another ten minute walk.   

I've seen other articles talking about how the Academy botched this golden opportunity.   Good luck if you want to head out there.

It was better off as a department store.

Dinner last night:  Leftover Korean Chicken.

Monday Morning Video Laugh - March 30, 2026

 My blog anniversary month winds up with Beyonce...well, sort of.  Remember this classic?

Dinner last night:  Grilled beef sausage and salad.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - A Lenten Week Recall

 Given that it is the week of Good Friday, a childhood story comes flooding through the seas of my cranium. It is vintage Martin Luther and probably why he nailed those things to the doors a couple of centuries ago.

I grew up in a neighborhood that was predominantly Italian, which meant that it was also predominantly Catholic. In fact, I was the lone Protestant on the block as well as the only one of my group that attended public school. That made me instantly out of sync. When they all had days off for All Saints Day and the Assumption, I was off for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. The public school students weren't necessarily Jewish, but the faculty sure as heck was. At an early age, I realized the upside and the downside of being Lutheran. There were never any real eating restrictions---thumbs up. But, you got major league gypped on holidays---thumbs down. When was the last time you got to stay home from school for Pentecost?

Being the religious outsider, I lost out on participating in all active arguments on saints. I could tell you the line-ups of every major league baseball team, but couldn't tell the difference between an Ignatius or a Basil. I also never got to chime in on the unified hatred all my friends had for some teacher like Sister Mary RiteAid, who allegedly wielded a mean ruler full of 2 inch nails.

And, apparently, I was missing out on something else in those schools. So said my next door neighbor Monte. Monte was an A+ student at one of the Catholic schools, one of those places where all the kids were forced to wear chocolate-colored pants with chocolate-colored jackets and chocolate-colored ties. I used to get to eat over his house from time to time. One night after dinner, instead of tuning into "Get Smart," Monte pulled out a school workbook and proceeded to instruct me in the Catholic faith. Per his teacher, Sister Margaret Advil, I, as a Protestant, was going to Hell. I was not to pass Go. I was not to collect 200 dollars. A one way ticket, all expenses paid and no questions asked, to H E Double Hockey Sticks. 

To further explain my impending peril, he turned to the page in his religious schoolbook where they apparently segregated the Protestants. There was a cartoon of a small boy. That was me, Monte said. In the center of the boy's chest was a black circle. That was the dirt on my inner soul for being a Protestant. I began to rub my chest. Could I feel this stain growing inside of me? Was that cough I was getting a result of this or just a second hand by-product from my mother's cigarettes? I wondered if my parents or my grandparents at home knew if they were doomed as well. 

Monte also let me in on a little more magic he learned from his school. On Good Friday every year, between the hours of 12 Noon and 3PM, the skies around the world get dark, as God weeps over the crucifixion of Jesus. When my nine-year-old logic tried to challenge Monte on this, I was rebuffed. It's impossible that it gets darker all over the world, I contended. But, no, I was wrong, according to Monte who studied at the feet of Sister Alice SpicNSpan. 

Good Friday came a few weeks later. And wouldn't you know it? The darkest clouds ever blanketed the sky right between 12 Noon and 3PM. Amazing! Monte was a genius. Obviously, that Martin Luther was a real snake oil salesman. 

Where do I sign up to be a Catholic? How fast can I get my soul cleaned and can they hem my new chocolate-colored pants at the same time?

Well, I noticed that nobody else really talked about the fact that the skies got dark that afternoon. My parents didn't mention it. My grandmother said nothing. Walter Cronkite did not make it a lead story on the nightly news. Monte and his teachings were exposed even further when subsequent Good Fridays turned out to be totally lovely days. 

And, when my grandfather died a few years later, nobody at the funeral talked about his black hole or the fact that he was in Hell as we spoke. Over time, I came to learn about the intricacies of all religions and made my own choices as wisely as my knowledge could sustain. Hopefully, Monte's school workbook has been discontinued at Sacred Heart School. I can only imagine what else was included in the curriculum back then. Dick and Jane Stone a Presbyterian?

As for Monte himself, the A plus student hit the skids big time in high school. He went a little crazy via drugs, etc.. He still lives in the same house he grew up in. He buried his parents (probably in the backyard). And he looks like somebody on an open call for "Helter Skelter: The Musical" with wardrobe from the Charles Manson collection. 

Usually once a year on one of my NY trips, I take a drive down the old block. It has turned over several times economically and ethnically. All the homes look like liquor storefronts in the worst areas of the Bronx. On one of those drives, I noticed Monte's house painted lime green. The front yard is covered in weeds. It is a complete eyesore. And there in the front stood Mountainman Monte. A homeless man with an address. 

I thought about stopping for a second. But I drove on. The blackness of my Protestant soul was nothing compared to the hell his life has been.

Dinner last night:  Korean chicken from Chin Chin.

Classic TV Theme Song of the Month - March 2026

 They don't make them like this any more.

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

It's All in the Pose

 

What a pisser.

All hands on Dad.

Nice pig you got there.  The one in the middle, I mean.

Will the dead one float if we toss over the railing?

A new definition of the word "stool."

Now that's what I call diversity.

What's this phenomenon of sitting on your family members?

Like I said.

Dinner last night:  Japanese hot dog at the Dodger home opener.

Hope Springing Eternal Again

 

Just as it did in 1962, Opening Day arrives anew.   Everybody is tied for first place and last place.   Let the games begin.  

Again.

Dinner last night:  Beef and broccoli.

This Date in History - March 25

 

Happy birthday, Elton John.  The music of your life has been the music of my life.

421:  VENICE IS FOUNDED AT TWELVE O'CLOCK NOON, ACCORDING TO LEGEND.

Actually it was 12:10PM.   There was a pre-game show on TBS.

708:  POPE CONSTANTINE SUCCEEDS POPE SISINNIUS AS THE 88TH POPE.

Because the former Pope had a sisinnius infection.

1199:  RICHARD I IS WOUNDED BY A CROSSBOW BOLT WHILE FIGHTING FRANCE, LEADING TO HIS DEATH ON APRIL 6.

Leading to...I guess...a Richard II.

1306:  ROBERT THE BRUCE BECOMES KING OF SCOTLAND.

What kind of last name is The Bruce?

1409:  THE COUNCIL OF PISA OPENS.

I wonder which way they're leaning.

1584:  SIR WALTER RALEIGH IS GRANTED A PATENT TO COLONIZE VIRGINIA.  

Roll that tobacco.

1634:  THE FIRST SETTLERS ARRIVE IN MARYLAND.

And that's about when Cal Ripken's streak started, right?

1802:  THE TREATY OF AMIENS IS SIGNED AS A DEFINITIVE TREATY OF PEACE BETWEEN FRANCE AND ENGLAND.

For now.

1807:  THE SLAVE TRADE ACT BECOMES LAW, ABOLISHING THE SLAVE TRADE IN THE BRITISH EMPIRE.

So now you can get a slave through free agency?

1811: PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY IS EXPELLED FROM THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD FOR PUBLISHING THE PAMPHLET "THE NECESSITY OF ATHEISM."

Believing in a cause that is not believing God.  Got it.

1865: DURING THE CIVIL WAR, CONFEDERATE FORCES IN VIRGINIA TEMPORARILY CAPTURE FORT STEDMAN.

Oprah's phony boyfriend??

1908:  DIRECTOR DAVID LEAN IS BORN.

The director of one of my favorite movies...."The Bridge On The River Kwai."

1911:  MURDERER JACK RUBY IS BORN.

"Jack, you son of a bitch."

1918:  THE BELARUSIAN PEOPLE'S REPUBLIC IS ESTABLISHED.

For all those who want to vacation in Belarus.

1918:  SPORTSCASTER HOWARD COSELL IS BORN.

He had no hair then either.

1918:  COMPOSER CLAUDE DEBUSSY DIES.

La Mer.  Le Morte.

1926:  MOVIE CRITIC GENE SHALIT IS BORN.

Most likely to be confused with Jerry Colonna.   Or a floor mop.

1931:  THE SCOTTSBORO BOYS ARE ARRESTED IN ALABAMA AND CHARGED WITH RAPE.

Later to become a Broadway musical.  ?????

1942:  SINGER ARETHA FRANKLIN IS BORN.

You make me feel like.....

1947:  ROCK STAR ELTON JOHN IS BORN.

Gee, I wonder why he never married.  Oh, wait, he did.  A couple of times.  To a woman.  To a man.  I better check with the registry at Bed, Bath, and Beyond.

1948:  THE FIRST SUCCESSFUL TORNADO FORECAST PREDICTS THAT A TORNADO WILL STRIKE AN AIR FORCE BASE IN OKLAHOMA.

Yeah, but how many did they get wrong?

1957:  US CUSTOMS SEIZES COPIES OF ALLEN GINSBERG'S POEM "HOWL" ON OBSCENITY GROUNDS.

I bet that, if this happened today, "Howl" would be produced as a sitcom on Fox.

1965:  MARTIN LUTHER KING JR. AND OTHER CIVIL RIGHTS ACTIVISTS SUCCESSFULLY COMPLETE THEIR 4 DAY MARCH FROM SELMA. 

Movie to come.

1965:  ACTRESS SARAH JESSICA PARKER IS BORN.

After her parents had some sex in the city.

1969:  DURING THEIR HONEYMOON, JOHN LENNON AND YOKO ONO HOLD THEIR FIRST BED-IN FOR PEACE.   IT LASTED FOR A WEEK.

Do Not Disturb sign in place.

1975:  FAISAL OF SAUDI ARABIA IS SHOT AND KILLED BY A MENTALLY ILL NEPHEW.

Every family has one.

1990:  THE HAPPY LAND FIRE AT AN ILLEGAL NIGHTCLUB IN THE BRONX KILLS 87 PEOPLE.

So not so happy.

1992:  ACTRESS NANCY WALKER DIES.

Rhoda's mom!

1995:  WIKIWIKIWEB IS MADE PUBLIC FOR THE FIRST TIME.

And ultimately helps to populate this blog every Wednesday.

2005:  TV PRODUCER PAUL HENNING DIES.

Whee doggie.

2008:  SCREENWRITER ABBY MANN DIES.

He was a guy, by the way.

2009:  NEW YORK YANKEE JOHNNY BLANCHARD DIES.

What a great pinch hitter!!

2021:  AUTHOR BEVERLY CLEARY DIES.

I read all of her Henry Huggins books when I was in the fourth grade.

Dinner last night:    Leftover rigatoni.

There Is A Doctor in the House

 

Go figure.   

Okay, if you listened to my parents, doctors were evil and uncaring and money grabbing.   That is why they and all their contemporaries never went to see their doctors.   They wanted to hold onto their wallets.   What they didn't hold on to was a long life.    The whole bunch of them pretty much wiped out over a five year period.    Few made it past seventy.

I've been a little more trusting in my world.   But I have been largely lucky with my choice of physicians.   I regularly see specialists for urology, orthopedics, ENT, and gastro issues.   Plus I have a phenomenal internist who I have known for the last twenty five years and there's never been a situation where he doesn't call me back in a day.    I harken back to the day when I first met him.

"We will grow old together."

So, I don't have the same distrust that my elders did of the medical world.   Oddly, I do see those elements surprisingly in some of my contemporary friends.  They, too, won't see doctors and view them as...

...evil, uncaring, and money grabbing.

I don't get it.  Oh, sure, I've heard some horror stories of older doctors who seem to be taking it easy long before they've given up their practices.  I started to wonder if my friends were justified in their disdain of anybody with a MD after their name.

But, even though my doubts were very faint, they started to trickle in.   

And then I had an emergency.  The grand slam of hernias.   Four becoming active in my body all at once.   One day, I was fine.  Twenty four hours later, I was in a hospital bed consulting with a surgeon. 

But that whole ordeal, while unsettling, gave me an up-close look at the next generation of physicians.  And I like what I see.

So, said surgeon had an assistant who visited me.   Probably no more than thirty.  He was bright and personable and treated me as if I was his closest friend going under the knife.

Now my internist now works with a young UCLA Health fellow.   A doctor with the most wonderful and kindly of bedside manners.   He, too, was bright and personable and treated me as if I was his closest friend.

Two days after my hospital release, I started having some post-surgery vision issues.   I called my long term eye doctor but his schedule is tighter these days as he deals with being homeless after the Palisades fires last year.   But, as the office worker tells me, he, too, has taken on a young associate.   The guy calls me back within an hour.   Come on in tomorrow for an exam.

Again, another fledgling doctor who talked to me like...wait for it...I was his closest friend.  As I left after the exam, I asked if he could be my new eye doctor moving forward done.

All of the above got me thinking and it prompted me to ask my internist upon my follow-up visit several weeks later.

"What's going on in medical schools these days?"

Clearly, there is a switch in how they are training the next generation of healers.  Heck, my parents might be still around if they had doctors like this in their day.

My internist had no answer for me.   But there is something clearly afoot in Doctor School.  Hopefully, we all get to enjoy their work for many years to come.  

So, I suppose there is a Marcus Welby out there.

Dinner last night:  Chopped antipasto salad.

  

Monday Morning Video Laugh - March 23, 2026

 My blog anniversary continues with this high flying cat.  Remember?

Dinner last night:  Rigatoni with my homemade Bolognese sauce.

The Sunday Memory Drawers - Wafers R'Us

 

As we close out the Lenten season, let's get a little religious with our memories.

Here you go. Mom, Dad, and some dork in a robe that happens to be me on my confirmation day. Three people squinting wildly in the hot sun of a May Sunday afternoon. Not a smile in the bunch. It's about one hour after I first sampled the body and blood of Christ and I am guessing that the cardboard wafer is probably still stuck on my braces.

I remember this day vividly. I couldn't wait for it to be over. I had endured two years of Saturday morning religious instruction, made palatable only because my very first girlfriend was in the class with me. And it culminated in this afternoon, where my mind was drifting to the Met doubleheader on TV in the house. Lots of relatives afoot drinking and eating and smoking. And a stack of envelopes containing twenty dollar bills. My just reward for swallowing a paper tablet and some Gallo wine.

Unlike my Catholic chums up the block, us Lutherans were time-efficient and lumped the first Holy Communion and Confirmation into one single event. My mother used to quip that the Catholic kids were way too young to appreciate the sacraments at the age of 7. As for me, if it meant another afternoon filled with envelopes of twenty dollar bills, I would be a buyer for that religion. Because, as much as I dreaded the prospects of putting that wafer in my mouth, it turned out to be not so bad. And I got used to it all pretty darn quickly.

All through high school, I would receive Holy Communion on the first Sunday of the month. That wasn't me being obsessive compulsive. That was the only Sunday in the month that St. Peter's Lutheran Church on East 219th Street in the Bronx would offer it. But, I welcomed it as I began to understand the meaning behind it all and, for some mystical reason, I took it pretty seriously. 

Then, they changed pastors and I went to college. Wafers and wine were replaced by pretzels and 25 cent bottles of beer on the Fordham campus.

It wouldn't be until I returned to church when I moved to Los Angeles that I would again receive communion in a Lutheran church. And, years later, I found that the cardboard cookie had been replaced (at least at my church) by real challah bread. You actually felt like you were breaking bread as you are handed a morsel to dunk into the cabernet. I know the exact brand because I am the one at my church who buys the actual sacraments at Ralph's Supermarket every Saturday.

But, in the long interim between these blessings, there would be only one other time where communion almost filtered back into my world. In a Catholic church, of all places. The story, as I relate it, is not written to do any religion bashing or indict any particular clergy. But, it does illuminate how deeply seeded your childhood religious upbringing can be.

A few years after college, I was asked to be an usher for two Fordham friends who were taking the marital plunge. (They have since toweled off and left the pool permanently) Now, if you really want to piss me off, ask me to be an usher in your wedding party. Being the best man is impressive. I've been accorded that honor twice in my life. But, there is no other meaningless role than an usher at a wedding. Yo, Aunt Marge, you can find your own seat. It's a freakin' church. The closer you are, the better the view. Pure and simple. Essentially, what the groom is saying is that you are a close friend, but not the closest. 

Thanks, but no thanks. I don't need it, especially if I'm required to shove some portly bridesmaid around the dance floor to the strains of "Color My World." 

But, I digress...

I was asked to be an usher and I regrettably accepted. Comes the wedding day 
in Fordham University's Catholic chapel, I learn that the wedding will be officiated by two of the bride's relatives---a couple of ancient priests who might have seen the raising of Lazarus from the dead in person. These two fathers were the addled and scrambled types who hadn't opened their rectory windows since I Love Lucy was first run. And, since they didn't get out much except for bingo and Irish wakes, they were still under the misguided delusion that everybody in the world was Catholic. Well, indeed, in this wedding party, they probably were all Catholic. Except for me, the stalwart Protestant.

In what was an incredibly annoying wedding mass (the bride stood at some virginal statue for about two hours), I still managed to do all the kneeling at the most appropriate times. But, then, the two priests started to mess with the chalice and that dish where they keep the cardboard wafers. And they moved to approach where the wedding party was kneeling. I turned to another friend who was the usher beside me.

"What are they going to do now?"

My friend whispered, "They're gonna give us communion."

Huh? I poked him in the arm.

"I'm not Catholic."

My friend was no help. "Just take it. It's all the same thing."

It's all the same thing? It's all the same thing?? I thought about this. Indeed, I'm pretty sure that the wine and the wafer is the same in one Christian church as it is in the next. Probably purchased in the same church supply store on Katonah Avenue in the Bronx. But, I thought about my own religious background. The two years of Saturday indoctrination in the Lutheran faith leading up to the very first time I would receive communion. On the day of the picture heralding this entry. I thought about my parents and my childhood church and the fact that I had not gone for communion in my own faith for some time.

Nope, it wasn't the same. Not hardly. I would not take this blessing today. I had made my choice.

Getting the clergy in residence to accept that decision was another matter. The first fossil, Father Porcelana, held the wafer up in front of my mouth. I grunted as quietly as I could.

"No, thank you."

He stayed motionless. Holding the wafer in front of me as if I was a beagle being asked to sit up and beg for a Milk Bone treat. He stood there for a minute that felt like ten. When he finally got the notion that this was a religious staredown, he moved on. Then, on came Father Metamucil with the chalice of wine. In his moth ball reeking robes, he had witnessed none of the other drama that had just befallen me.

"The blood of Christ..."

It was eternity and we might have witnessed the second coming. He held the wine to my mouth. I looked at him as if he was crazy. And perhaps he was. At last, he moved on to the next person he would drip on.

Yeah, it's the same thing. But, somehow, it's different. For me, it's incredibly personal. As it should be.

Dinner last night:  Rustica cake.

Classic Movie Trailer of the Month - March 2026

Yikes, this classic is 30 years old this month.   And yet another teardrop for Robin Williams. 

Dinner last night:  Cheese and crackers.

Honk If You...

Dinner last night:   Salisbury steak.
 

The Best Picture of the Year...Not

 

Long time readers of this blog over the past 19 years know that I used to have a very Oscar-eccentric content.   Lots of movie reviews.  Pix for your office pool.  Writing what two Jewish film pros had to say about the nominations and awards while eating pastrami on rye.

We sure did have a lot of Oscar fun.  And then COVID hit and the movie business changed to one where you need a living room couch or recliner.   And the content got darker and darker as if everybody in film production had an axe to grind.  It was no longer about entertainment.

Personally, I couldn't wait to watch on Oscar Sunday.   I'd go see all the nominees before hand.  On the big day, I would make a big slow cooker of chili, invite some friends, and make fun of the idiots on parade.   This year, I was invited to another Oscar event and, frankly, I didn't even realize it was Award Day or Night.

Given all of the above, it was no surprise in this age of nobody cares, a crummy movie like "One Battle After Another" wins the top prize.  Ironically, it was the only nominated feature I saw and I did that the previous night.   I was unimpressed.   The movie was long, boring, self-conscious and full of rotten, hateful characters.  

Just more of the same.   With a sinister politically-oriented POV. this movie seems like it was made just six months ago and produced by Minnesota Governor Tim Walz.  It's all about old revolutionaries who are spiriting illegal immigrants into the country so they can fuck with America.   Meanwhile, the film is set fifteen years in the past so I suppose that makes writer/director Paul Thomas Anderson a genius along with being Maya Rudolph's husband.

Super lib Leonardo DiCaprio plays one of the scumbags who fears his daughter has been abducted by the evil US military as commanded by the always annoying-to-watch Sean Penn.  DiCaprio has to use a password to get recognized by his fellow terrorists and it's "Green Acres Beverly Hillbillies Hooterville Junction."  Why not Petticoat?  That particular plot point bothered me the whole movie.  As if I wasn't already bothered by watching the damn thing in the first place.

All these scumbags arrive at some critical point five or six hours later...or maybe the 2 hour and 45 minute run time was really accurate.  Whatever...it's another demented view of the United States and it's just another black mark on Hollywood.

And the most undeserved Oscar goes to...

LEN'S RATING:  One star.

Dinner last night:  Sandwich.

This Date in History - March 18

 

Happy birthday in Heaven, Kevin Dobson.   We make it a policy here always to celebrate special days of Knots Landing actors.  No social distancing here.

37:  THE ROMAN SENATE ANNULS TIBERIUS' WILL AND PROCLAIMS CALIGULA EMPEROR.

Okay, now the fun begins.

633:  THE ARABIAN PENINSULA IS UNITED UNDER THE CENTRAL AUTHORITY OF CALIPH ABU BAKR.

Good.  I was worried.

1229:  FREDERICK II, HOLY ROMAN EMPEROR, DECLARES HIMSELF KING OF JERUSALEM IN THE SIXTH CRUSADE.

And later he calls himself the Duke of Earl.

1314:  JACQUES DE MOLAY, THE LAST GRAND MASTER OF THE KNIGHTS TEMPLAR, IS BURNED AT THE STAKE.

I hope they used a good brand of olive oil.

1438:  ALBERT II OF HABSBURG BECOMES HOLY ROMAN EMPEROR.

But we won't be as much fun as Caligula.

1608: SUSENYOS IS FORMALLY CROWNED EMPEROR OF ETHIOPIA.

Susenyos?   Wasn't that a Phil Collins song?

1741:  NEW YORK GOVERNOR GEORGE CLARKE'S COMPLEX AT FORT GEORGE IN BURNED IN AN ARSON ATTACK, STARTING THE NEW YORK CONSPIRACY OF 1741.

There's no conspiracy.   I just wish all these people weren't against me.

1766:  THE BRITISH PARLIAMENT REPEALS THE STAMP ACT.

Forcing everybody to deliver their letters in person.

1848:  IN BERLIN, THERE IS A STRUGGLE BETWEEN CITIZENS AND MILITARY, COSTING ABOUT 300 LIVES.

That's a little more than a struggle in my book.

1850:  AMERICAN EXPRESS IS FOUNDED BY HENRY WELLS AND WILLIAM FARGO.

Don't leave home without them.

1865:  DURING THE CIVIL WAR, THE CONGRESS OF THE CONFEDERATE STATES ADJOURNS FOR THE LAST TIME.

Last one out, please shut off the lights.

1886:  ACTOR EDWARD EVERETT HORTON IS BORN.

Mrs.Horton Has a What?

1892:  FORMER GOVERNOR GENERAL LORD STANLEY PLEDGES TO DONATE A SILVER CHALLENGE CUP AS AN AWARD FOR THE BEST HOCKEY TEAM IN CANADA.

Little did he know that some players would be peeing in it 100 years later.

1915:  DURING WORLD WAR I, THREE BATTLESHIPS ARE SUNK DURING A FAILED BRITISH AND FRENCH NAVAL ATTACK.

I used to re-enact this in the bathtub when I was a kid.

1922:  IN INDIA, MOHANDAS GANDHI IS SENTENCED TO SIX YEARS IN PRISON FOR CIVIL DISOBEDIENCE.

Going, going, Gandhi.

1926:  ACTOR PETER GRAVES IS BORN.

He dies in 2010.  No, wait, he self-destructs.

1927:  AUTHOR GEORGE PLIMPTON IS BORN.

I never quite knew what this guy wrote.

1940:  ADOLF HITLER AND BENITO MUSSOLINI MEET AT THE BRENNER PASS IN THE ALPS AND AGREE TO FROM AN ALLIANCE AGAINST FRANCE AND ENGLAND.

Such a sinister act to have over a nice cup of Ovaltine,

1942:  THE WAR RELOCATION AUTHORITY IS ESTABLISHED IN THE US TO TAKE JAPANESE AMERICANS INTO CUSTODY.

Relocation is a nice way to say "internment."

1943:  ACTOR KEVIN DOBSON IS BORN.

Every Thursday night at 10PM for over twelve years, this guy was one of my heroes.

1944:  THE ERUPTION OF MOUNT VESUVIUS IN ITALY KILLS 26 PEOPLE AND CAUSES THOUSANDS TO FLEE THEIR HOMES.

I guess you can't blame them.

1945:  OVER 1,200 AMERICAN BOMBERS ATTACK BERLIN.

Finally.

1959:  PRESIDENT DWIGHT EISENHOWER SIGNS A BILL INTO LAW ALLOWING FOR HAWAIIAN STATEHOOD.

Aloha.

1970:  THE US POSTAL STRIKE OF 1970 BEGINS, ONE OF THE LARGEST WILDCAT STRIKES IN US HISTORY.

I think my mailman, who shows up after 6PM most days, must still think he's on the picket line.

1990:  GERMANS VOTE IN THE FIRST DEMOCRATIC ELECTIONS IN THE FORMER COMMUNIST DICTATORSHIP.

Can somebody show me how to pull this lever?

1992:  IN A NATIONAL REFERENDUM, WHITE SOUTH AFRICANS VOTE OVERWHELMINGLY TO END THE RACIST POLICY OF APARTHEID.

Would they do the same thing if they knew Al Sharpton?

2001:  SINGER JOHN PHILLIPS DIES.

All my leaves are brown...and my face is pale.

2009:  ACTRESS NATASHA RICHARDSON DIES.

Reason # 77 why people over 40 should not ski.

2010:  ACTOR FESS PARKER DIES.

That raccoon wants his skin back.

2017:  MUSICIAN CHUCK BERRY DIES.

Rock and Roll now fatherless.

Dinner last night:  Hamburger.

Nineteen Years and Two Days Ago

As written on that first blog day.  3-15-07.  This was even before I listed my previous night's dinner.  By the way, Dinner last night was grilled steak salad.

Jell-o, this is Jack Benny speaking.

Well, not really. But I am commencing a new chapter in my world. I have been intrigued by some of the personal blogs I have read from friends, people in the industry, etc.. I never really got into doing a daily journal, but this might be a good venue to start.

I can muse everyday on whatever is on my mind. Hopefully, this will be a good way to stay connected with folks. And, this is an ideal offshoot of that Christmas newsletter I do---an annual device which has obviously been well-received, although I start it as a complete goof.

It will take me a while to learn how to upload pictures and all those other do-hickeys on my computer. And I am sure that, at some point very early on, I will write a completely captivating entry only to lose it in cyberspace.

I will have to learn not to vent on anyone I know personally, as they could potentially read it and stop sending me Christmas cards. Will this be a politically correct forum? I see no hands raised. That's good. It means you have been paying attention to me all these years. For instance, if I wanted to comment on "American Idol", you will not be surprised if I refer to that Sanjaya guy in terms that will signify his heritage from a God-forsaken country in this world where the flies are bigger than the meal on your plate. 

By the way, I now understand how that kid is surviving from week-to-week when he sounds like Rose Kennedy doing a cabaret act in Vegas. All his calls have been outsourced. If he somehow goes the distance, I am guessing the first contract he will sign is with Dell Computers. And I am thinking he has tons of support in this country. Go into any Seven-11 when they open up the Idol phone lines and tell me if the counter help isn't on a cell phone at the time.

Voila......c'est le blog pour Thursday, March 15, 2007.

Monday Morning Video Laugh - March 16, 2026

On my blog anniversary month, let's watch Scarlet take another tumble off that table.

Dinner last night:   Sandwich.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - When Movies Are Really Bad

Like all of the ones nominated for Oscars tonight.   It is now the awards show that nobody cares about.  And, to think that these films are the worst yet.   I've seen my share in life.

Movie fan that I am, I will stick out a stinker as long as possible.   You know those films.   The one that you start to hate by the end of the first reel and it actually goes downhill from there.   I know lots of folks who would get up and leave.   For the most part, not me.   I will grit my teeth and hope against hope that it will get better.

But there have been three movies that I never saw the end of.  Of course, one wasn't because it stunk.   Years later, I saw it on TCM and thought it was very clever.   But, trying to see it at the Loews Mount Vernon theater with its artist rendering above, well, that didn't work.   Indeed, it was the very first movie my mother ever took me to see.

Perfect entertainment for somebody my age.  And, oh, look, "it's colorsome."

So, on one warm weekday afternoon, Mom walked me down Stevens Avenue to Loews for the first of what would be thousands of motion picture experiences for yours truly.

Except...

I remember the huge and glorious edifice being empty.  It was the first show of the day and apparently even a colorsome movie like Tom Thumb wasn't packing them in just yet.   We made the long climb to the balcony, which was my mother's prime viewing location.  Why?  It was the smoking section.

I probably was in awe of my surroundings.  It was so eerily quiet.  But the hall was very pretty.  And the velvet curtain that faced us all.

Moments later, the lights began to dim.

Uh oh, what's happening?

The curtain slowly started to inch its way apart to reveal a huge white wall.  

Suddenly, this all didn't look so inviting.  I had no clue what was happening.  But none of it looked good.  And I reacted the way any well-adjusted child would.

I started to scream.

'WHHHHAAAAAAAA!   WHHHAAAAAAAAAAA!"

My mom was so off-put that she probably had to douse her cigarette.  What the hell was wrong with me?

"WHHHHHAAAAAAA!  WHHHHAAAAAAAAAA!"

If there was anybody else in the theater at that moment, I am sure they were complaining to the manager.  Can you shut that freakin' kid up?

Mom had no luck with me.  This freakin' kid wouldn't shut up.  I sounded like Lucy Ricardo on the umpteenth time that Ricky wouldn't let her be in the show down at the Tropicana.

There would be no Tom Thumb for me that afternoon. 

I think I stopped the histrionics several blocks away.  And re-ignited them  anew when Mom had her say.

"You've wasted my money, today, young man."

Young man?  Okay, I was four.

With a great flourish, my mother ripped apart the two movie tickets.  Wasted money, indeed.  The tickets were probably no more than fifty cents each.  Needless to say, the rest of my afternoon was spent in my room.  A just punishment for having squandered my family's fortune.

Not wanting to repeat the scream fest ever again, my mother got smart at how to get around my "dimming lights/curtain parting" phobia.  For the next two years whenever I was taken to the movies, we arrived ten minutes into the first feature.  I clearly recall one afternoon while we hung around Hartley Park just up the street from the RKO Proctors theater.  The show had started at 1PM.  My mom looked at her watch.

"1:15PM.  I guess we can go in now."

I eventually outgrew this nonsense.   But, in the case of the two other movies I have walked out on in my lifetime, I was better off screaming at the curtain.

You see that there?   Academy Award winning.   And it did win the Oscar for Best Foreign Film.  Okay, I was a film buff.   This was something I needed to see one night with some friends.   

Of course, back then for people living in Westchester, New York, the only outlet you had to see foreign or art house movies was the Scarsdale Fine Arts theater. Sadly, I think it's a furniture store now.  But, back in the day, it was the "in" place to be for film devotees.   

I don't remember just how quickly "The Tin Drum" skidded off the tracks for me.  But, within the first half-hour, we were treated to a bunch of unlikable people set against the Nazi Holocaust.  With this annoying kid pictured above banging on his freakin' drum.

I hung out for a while.   But, then, there was the scene at the beach.   These characters started to eat live eels.  I started to feel vomit oozing up into my mouth.   I don't remember exactly what my friends did.   I got up and ran into the lobby for a gallon or two from their water fountain.

I was done with 'The Tin Drum."

Ah, and there was one other that had me beating a hasty retreat.  And, at first glance, you would wonder why.

I mean, come on, Len.  How can you go wrong here?  Jack Nicholson.  Meryl Streep.  Mike Nichols directing.  Nora Ephron writing.

By the end of the first half-hour, I couldn't take these completely insufferable people.  Interesting because it was allegedly loosely based on the romance of Ephron and journalist Carl Bernstein.   The histrionics on the screen were so annoying that I bade a temporary goodbye to my movie partner and headed to the lobby.

The good news is we were at Movieland on Central Avenue in Yonkers.  The lobby was full of video games.   I was not a video game player.   That night, I became one.  One quarter after another.  One Pac Man after another.   The time went a lot faster for me than it would have sitting back in that theater.

Indeed, I guess you can say my batting average is pretty good.  Walking out of two movies.   Technically being dragged out of a third.   Now there is junk I see to this day.   But I rarely walk out.   I think back to the day of my mom yelling at me after the aborted attempt to see "Tom Thumb."

"You've wasted my money today, young man."Well, now it's my own money.  And I don't waste that so easily. 

Dinner last night:  Ribeye steak and pan roasted tomatoes in balsamic sauce.

Classic Newsreel of the Month - March 2026

 And they're still marching.

Dinner last night:  In and Out Burger.

Friday the 13th and How Unlucky Are These Losers?

 

More photographic torture. Proof that this is one strange country. Take, for instance, the twisted young miss above. I suppose some guys will find this impressive. Actually, I do. Bravo. Honey, are you on Facebook? We should be friends.

The strange thing is that neither of these kids know this man. When does your local neighborhood predator pose for photos?

To all those women who think they are beautiful when pregnant: you're not. Call me when the kid is out and already teething.

A new movie is opening: Nightmare on Easter Sunday.

I'd love to see what this family looks like five seconds later.

"What do you mean that I have a pre-existing condition?"

And this is a family that probably has hand sanitizers all over the house.

When narcolepsy strikes on your wedding day...

"Whacha mean you want some sugar? I already gave you plenty."

Dinner last night:   Leftover grilled sausage.