Classic Movie Trailer of the Month - August 2012

A Radio City Music Hall hit in the summer of 1967.

 
Dinner last night:  Louisiana sausage and garlic fries at the Dodger game.

The Big Summer 2012 Sale at Sky Mall

I've been traveling a bit so I have had plenty of time to waste time at 35,000 feet with tours through the latest Sky Mall catalog.  Where junk comes with a hefty price.  For instance...

If you're in need of a protein boost, you could choke down one of these gelatins.  The blurb said one cup contains as much nutritional value as a piece of fruit.  Or, if you really want to get bold...have a freakin' piece of fruit.

This allegedly gives you a hand massage.  In the event you are not in close proximity to a 20-year-old Asian girl...

This is a complete toilet training course for your kitty.  Notice there is a DVD included, in the event your cat knows how to operate the electronic equipment attached to your television set.  Meanwhile, is there anything creepier than the feline in this picture?  Makes you want to fill the bathtub full of water, doesn't it?

Trying to get that teenage girl in your house to brush her teeth regularly?  Well, these electric toothbrushes spit out a Justin Bieber tune as she Colgates away.  Gives totally new meaning to the expression "rinse and spit."

This is the "Magic Derriere" panty.  Guaranteed to add inches to your ass.  Comes in four sizes: Small, Medium, Large, and Post Office Clerk.

If you are really, really, really proud of your college, let everybody know by putting the school logo on your luggage.  By the way, the Penn State edition has been marked down 75%.

This is a spy voice recorder.  Easily hidden when you want to secretly blackmail your co-worker.  Because everybody has a Bernie Madoff in their world.

You could take this supplement or do something a little more radical and buy a damn alarm clock.

If you're worried about the germs you're flying with, simply spray them away.  Meanwhile, does this even make it past TSA Security?

Got a meteorologist in your life?  They'll love this weather station.  Or they could simply look out a fucking window.

Dinner last night:  New york strip steak at Boa.

Yay! I Finished Another Book - "Backstage at the Mets" by Lindsey Nelson and Al Hirshberg

I've written here about my childhood summer nights.  Pressed up against the kitchen fan and reading a good book. 

Sometimes, sensory perception can bring you back to the old days.

A few weeks back, I was in New York and it was muggy.  The type of evening where the moon is almost as hot as the sun.  While my apartment there is equipped with air conditioning, I also have two ceiling fans installed.  As well as a pretty powerful floor fan that is based in my home office.   On this night, I was doing some work on the laptop.  Probably updating this very blog.  And the breeze from the floor fan gave me the kind of feeling I had years ago.   The whirr of the fan motor.  The coolness that caressed me.

I suddenly had this urge to snuggle up to the fan and read a book.  I turned around to the bookcase in my office.  These are offerings that never made the move to Los Angeles.  Things I read perhaps twenty years ago.

Or, in some cases, even longer.

I reached over and pulled down the first thing I could grab.

"Backstage at the Mets" by Lindsey Nelson with Al Hirshberg.   A book that came out in 1966.  And one I probably read in a summer a long, long time ago.  Curled up with the kitchen fan.

I dusted off the top of the binding and cracked the spine of the book.  The glue that once held it together had dried so the pages were beginning to loosen.  Despite its condition, I started to read.

And didn't stop for three hours.  A book devoured in one sitting.

I can remember when it was all new to me.  I was a young baseball fan, suddenly and inexplicably and hopelessly devoted to the New York Mets.  They were still new to baseball.  Only three or four years old.  But they had captured the hearts of New Yorkers with their lovable quirkiness and ineptitude. 

I was one of them.

Lindsey Nelson was one of the Mets announcers back when.  He was a longtime sports announcer.  A thorough professional but one also blessed with a wry wit.  He found the funny in most situations.  And certainly appreciated the wonder of the fledgling Met franchise which seemed to find an infinite number of ways in which you could lose a baseball game.  With the 75-year-old Casey Stengel at the team's helm, Nelson knew there was a great story to tell with the birth of the Mets.  This was captured wonderfully in "Backstage at the Mets."

It all held my attention, but also simultaneously provoked my mind to wander.  To my first trip to Shea Stadium.  To games and losses I had long since forgotten.   To players that were on dog-eared baseball cards in a shoebox under my bed. 

To a day when all these stories were new.  And gobbled up by a young boy simply trying to beat the summer night heat.   One more time.

The feeling was back.  The electric fan spun on in my ear.  The lilting breeze chilled me. 

And, for three hours, I was back home in Mount Vernon, New York.  And I was a new Met fan all over again.

Dinner last night:  Leftover pizza and salad.

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 COLEEN 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:  Super Dodger Dog at the game.

Shoes of the Phisherman

A show of hands, please.

Did you all sign up for that national "Do Not Call" list a few years back?

Uh-huh.

Another show of hands, please.

Are you all still getting as many telemarketing calls as before?

Yeah, I thought so.

And, despite the many ways we can take to protect our privacy and livelihoods, are you still getting scammed as much as ever?

Yeah. me, too.

We can protect ourselves and protect ourselves and protect ourselves.  Yet, the scum out there continues to "phish" in our personal ponds.

I've written before of some trouble that happened to my private banking accounts.  Over one five-year period, both my writing partner and I had our checking accounts compromised a grand combined total of seven times.  That is unimaginable.   Or is it?  Apparently not in this day and age, where people have seemingly gotten more resilient when it comes to being evil. 

More recently, there are e-mail scam versions of the bank account pilfering.  Because we are all now so conscious of having our finances hacked, the shitheads are now using that to create fake e-mail messages that look like they are coming from your bank.

But they are not.

I am getting one every month now.  It looks legit.  The e-mail has a logo of my banking institution and tells me that they think my account has been touched by an unauthorized user.  To ensure that I am who I say I am, the message tells me to click on a link and verify my identity with my Social Security number.

The first time this happened, I was immediately skeptical.  When you look at the wording of the e-mail and read it closely, you'll always find a clue.  Try reading it out loud.  You will discover that the prose sounds like it was written in a foreign country.  This test never fails. 

Of course, I did call my bank the first time and they alerted me that, if there was ever a problem with my account, they contact by phone and not e-mail.  And they have done just that in the past.  Now, whenever I get these e-mails, I simply forward them to the spam abuse contact that my bank gave me.

But, how many people out there get suckered?  Too many, I am thinking. 

Last week, I ran into a new one.

I was sitting quietly one night, watching the Dodger game.   So, when the phone rings, I'm immediately annoyed whether it be a friend or a stranger.

There was a long pause after I picked up.  There usually is when one of these crooks' computer systems random dials your number.  And then the voice, which was unmistakenly foreign.  I am guessing either Arabic or Indian.

"Allo.  This is Microsoft."

Really?  What's your last name, Microsoft?  I knew immediately this was a scam.

"Are you aware that your Windows system is sending us illegal messages?"

Er, if one of the messages is "go fuck yourself," I applaud my Windows system.  Meanwhile, I let the conversation go on a little longer just to play with this asshole's mind. 

"We can help you fix this problem, which is critical for the operation of your computer."

Gee, thanks so much. 

"I can send you a patch for this very critical problem.  $49.95." 

Boy, am I glad you called me.  And that's a reasonable price for such a critical problem.

"First I need your credit card please, thank you very much."

Okay, that will be a Discover card.  (PS, I don't have a Discover card.)  I read him some random numbers.

"And the name as it appears on the card, please, thank you very much."

Gee, it's a hard name, so let me spell it for you.

F-U-C-K....

He hung up.  I never got to the Y-O-U.

It made me feel better, but I then worried about the next call this sleazebag was going to make.  Perhaps to an older person who's already worried about their computer's slow performance.  And susceptible to this type of phone scam.

We can take all the protection we want.  But, somehow, they figure out newer and more horrible ways to get into our lives.  Until the day when none of us will come out from underneath our beds ever again.

Dinner last night:  Bobboli pizza with pepperoni.

Monday Morning Video Laugh - August 20, 2012

Dan Quayle is getting the last laugh.  This guy is the biggest idiot ever to be in the office.  And I am the only one who remembers he had some crooked money scandals in the late 80s.

 Dinner last night:  Barbecue ribs at Tony Roma's.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - Six Flags Over Annoyance

My amusement park memories has apparently sparked a trilogy and this is the third installment. 

Let me go on record right now.  I hate, absolutely detest any Six Flags amusement park.  I was never a big fan when I was in the correct demographic.  Now a bit older, I couldn't fathom ever visiting one of these places again.  The more thrills a ride offers, the less likely I am to go on it.  The funny thing is that I would tackle a roller coaster or something similar at a Disney park.  As long as I'm not suspended upside down in mid-air, I'll do.  At a place with the mouse ears.  But, at a Six Flags dump?  Forget it.

This is not to say that I didn't frequent one back in the day.  Right after college, Great Adventure opened in Jackson, New Jersey.  A schlep certainly from the New York metropolitan area, but you made it if a group was going and perhaps, once again, you were trying to get...ahem...close to somebody.  What better place to forge a romantic and maybe even intimate bond while somebody is throwing up onto your sneakers?  Ah, those are the moments that create wonderful relationships.

Except there was one female friend that I went to Great Adventure with, not once but twice.  Despite the fact that I didn't learn my lesson the first time.  Two incredibly miserable days that have discolored my memories of Six Flags Great Adventure for eternity.

Okay, maybe I was a little dumb back then.   This was somebody that I actually liked.  Maybe even in that way which leads to serious dating and then selecting a fabric for living room curtains.  In retrospect, what the hell was I thinking?  But, concentrating on where I was at the time, she was probably as cute as a button. 

Oh, how the mind...and your vision...can play cruel tricks on you.

Well, anyway, it was a summer day right after college graduation.  A time when I should have been looking for gainful employment and a possibly worthwhile career.  Nah, I took July and August off.  And used my free time to live it up.  Heck, I had the rest of my life to be responsible.  I needed to goof off for a bit.

One of those time wasters was an excursion to Great Adventure.  And this would be one of those rare stellar events where my best friend and college roommate would take in the amusement park with a couple of other friends.  They just happened to be girls.  There was no pairing off here.  Just four folks going on some rides. 

Okay, well, maybe I did have a slight agenda. 

But, as luck and age would have it, my college roommate and I tended to be a little annoying on this day.  Fooling around.  Making fun of some of the other people in the park.  And, for some bizarre reason, constantly trying to step on the back of each other's sneakers.

We were college graduates in diploma only. 

All day long, we were each working hard to trip up the other.  Stupid, I know, but there would be plenty of time for civility when we got jobs.  For now, this was our complete focus.  Getting each other to almost fall down.

So, as we went through those chain link mazes that arranged the lines of people waiting to board a ride, we'd step on each other's sneakers.   At one point, he slammed down so hard on the back of my foot that it propelled me forward with a lurch.  Convinced I was going to fall over and fast, I put my hands out to grab onto anything.  For some reason that I can't explain, my right hand was clenched in a fist.

Innocently, my would-be girlfriend happened to be following the chain link maze in the other direction. 

Her face and my fist had a rendezvous.  The meeting place was her jaw. 

Whack!!

I had accidentally punched her in the face.

Like a good sparring partner, the force of my hand made her wobble, but she never went down.  I hadn't scored a technical knockout, but, regardless, I immediately began to apologize profusely.  It wasn't my fault.  My roommate had tripped me.  Blame him.  Are you okay?  Is there anything I can do?

"No, I'm fine."

Ah, good, she was trying to be a trooper.  Or so I thought.

For the rest of the day, we relived this drama over and over and over and over.  Everytime I looked at her, she was rubbing her jaw.  Moving it from side to side to make sure it still worked.  And reminding me at every single moment that I had socked her in the face.  I was feeling bad enough as it was.  Although she kept reassuring me that she was fine, she couldn't stop talking about the incident.  I was getting to the point where I wanted to belt her jaw again and, this time, do it so she couldn't possibly speak another word.

Effectively, the day at Six Flags Great Adventure had been ruined.

Let's flash forward to a year later and another example of how I never learn my lesson.  Back to Six Flags Great Adventure.  With the same girl.  This time, I'm bopping along with said person's sister and her own boyfriend.  Luckily, he and I did not have the type of relationship where we felt comfortable stepping on each other's sneakers.

Sadly, that might have been the highlight of the day.

This was one of those summer dates where heat and humidity fit over the New York City metropolitan area like a glove that was one size too small.  You touched something and you were instantly glued to it by the moisture.  A perfect day to sample the water rides at an amusement park.  And, with its enormous log flume ride, Great Adventure was beckoning to us.  I couldn't wait to go on this and get as wet as possible.

Apparently, I was the only one.

"Do we really want to go on the log flume?"

Huh?

I was quite nice asking why she was so reticent.  What I really wanted to ask was....

Are you freakin' kidding me???  It's 150 fucking degrees outside and the best way to cool off is to get sprayed with oodles of water.  Why the hell did you come here anyway?   To sit in a hot car and go through the safari land???  We can't do that anyway because my father's Buick has a vinyl top and the baboons like to eat the glue that holds that down.  You stupid pain in the ass!!!

Or something like that. 

I was oddly persistent and I'm not sure why.  Maybe it was just that hot.

I must have been fairly persuasive because she ultimately caved in and went on the log flume.  The big drop at the end of the ride would be just the start of my problems for the rest of the day.

As luck and fate would have it, my friend was the one who got the soaking on the ride.  I mean, Poseidon-Adventure-Shelley-Winters-drowning wet.  On a hot day like this, you'd dry in thirty seconds.

Nope.  She immediately got off the ride and ran into the bathroom sobbing.  Her sister scurried after her.

Uh oh.  I'll go sit in the car.

A few minutes past as I sheepishly waited in a puddle.  Finally, the sister emerged and I was in her crosshairs.

"Nice job.  Now she's drenched and you have no idea what a problem this is causing because she's in the middle of having her period right now and this ride messed everything up and you should be more sensitive and be aware of things like this."

Ummmm......

Now I wish somebody was stepping on the back of my sneakers again so I could fall forever and punch them both in the mouth.

How the heck was I supposed to know any of this?  Is this published information?  Do I look in the New York Daily News every morning for an update?  National League batting averages, Belmont racing results, and, oh yeah, a listing of those women smack in the middle of their menstrual cycles.

Effectively, another day at Six Flags Great Adventure had been ruined.  While I did go back there several other times, I always was on my best behavior.  The bad memories were always lingering. 

And I always made sure to ask the question if I happened to be going there with a female.

How are you feeling today?  Really?

Dinner last night:  Turkey burger at the Pig N'Whistle.