Monday Morning Video Laugh - September 7, 2015

Not so much a laugh, but a smile.   Labor Day 1976.  Check out how drunk Dean is.

Dinner last night:  Tortellini with meatballs.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - 000 000 000---0 0 0

Only true baseball fans will get the symbolism of today's title.   

This Wednesday will mark the 50th anniversary of Sandy Koufax's perfect game versus the Chicago Cubs.   Unfortunately, there is little footage of the event.   There was no TV of the game.   Only Vin Scully's audio exists.   

The contest was noteworthy because the guy pitching against the Dodgers that night also pitched the game of his career as well.   Bob Hendley was a serviceable Major League pitcher but nowhere to the stellar ranks of a Koufax. Yet, on this very night when Sandy was perfect, Hendley only gave up a single hit and one single unearned run.   He probably was never better in his life and yet an afterthought with this game.

Indeed, the story of this game, which is dubbed by some as the very best pitched game in baseball history, was compelling enough to warrant a documentary.   And I'm happy to say that this is something I was part of pursuing to get on celluloid.   After many months, it came down to getting the participation of the two hurlers.   But those guys, humble as ever, declined to help with the project.   There still is some genuine life to the idea, so stay tuned very shortly.

But, for the time being, I commemorate here.   And, surprisingly, I got to celebrate a baseball no-hitter in person last week in my season seats at the same Dodger Stadium when the Cubs'...yep, the same Cubs...Jake Arrieta no-hit the Dodgers.  In reality, the feat was slightly tainted as a sharp ground ball that bounced off the chest of second baseman at 100 MPH was scored an error.  But, nevertheless, it was a no-hitter and I was there in the park for it.

In front of me was a real old time Chicago Cub fan.   The guy might have been 75 or 80, but he was decked out in Cub hat and jersey like a Little Leaguer in Williamsport, Pennsylvania.   As we moved to the bottom of the ninth and three outs away, I tapped him on the shoulder and asked for his emotion at that very moment.

"Apprehension.  I totally expect something bad to happen."

Spoken like a true Chicago Cub fan who's been through the trenches and the wars.

But this codger got his no-hitter and so did I.   For the second time in my life, I was there for one.   And I fully realize that some fans don't even get to say that once.

It all brought me back to some of the no-hitters or almost no-hitters of my own life.

I'm sure everybody remembers Tom Seaver's flirtation with perfect game immortality in July of 1969.  8 1/3 perfect innings until the Chicago Cubs' also-ran outfielder Jimmy Qualls ducked one into center field for a base hit.  There were 56,000 cheering lunatics in Shea Stadium that night.

I was not one of them.

I, however, was there on July 4, 1972 for the first game of a day doubleheader.  Back in the day when I would troop off to Shea on the 7 Train with a couple of school chums.  And back in the day when I literally could get through two baseball games in one sitting.

On this day, Tom Seaver came close again.  Certainly not a perfect-o because he walked four.  But, still, there was one out in the ninth and a huge zero under the hit column for the San Diego Padres.  I remember how lofty I was feeling.  I would be there for Mets history.  In ten years of their existence, no Met pitcher had ever thrown a no-hitter. 

Leron Lee singles in the ninth.  Jimmy Qualls moves over one space in the record book.  No Met no-no on this day.

I had it happen again.  Much later on.  A different coast, time zone, and stadium.  Yet, again, it was a Met pitcher batting his eyes at smoke rings across the scoreboard.

Dodger Stadium.  Sunday afternoon, August 14, 2005 in my old season seats.  It's one of those hot summer afternoons and I'm even in more of a tizzy.  Mets vs. Dodgers.  Always a problem for me as I waver one more time between the first wife and the second wife.  And complicating my emotional divide even more? 

Met pitcher Pedro Martinez takes a no-hitter into the eighth inning.

D'oh!

I'm torn like a pair of pants in the Goodwill bag anyway.  With impending Met history at my feet,  I'm a mess.  In 43 years of their existence, no Met pitcher has thrown a no-hitter.  I suddenly look at my scorebook and start to write more slowly and more neatly.  These pages may be ones for the ages.  Maybe Cooperstown will want to enshrine my scrawl under glass.

With one out in the eighth, it all scoots away like an ant who has faintly detected the scent of Raid.  A misplayed outfield fly goes for a triple.  Jayson Werth...yes, that Jayson Werth, sends one over the outfield wall.  Dodgers win, 2-1.

And, oh, yeah, no Met no-no on this day either.

So, Len still has yet to be there for a no-hitter thrown by his favorite home team.  But, that's not to say...

We head back to 1969.  And a long overdue mea culpa.

It's the second year of my Saturday ticket plan in the Loge, Section 7, at Shea.   It's September and the Mets are now a meteorite headed for the World Series.  Magic numbers are being removed daily as the Mets look to clinch the division title. 

And I'm one euphoric kid.  My fandom was paying off at a very early age.  I was, at last, validated.  I could walk through a neighborhood full of Yankee fans and hold my head up at least semi-high.

My ticket plan puts me with a pair of ducats for Saturday, September 20.  The magic number is down to the shortest of hairs as the Chicago Cubs keep on losing and losing and losing.  The Pittsburgh Pirates are in town this weekend.  And I invite a school buddy to sit in Seat 2 for the afternoon.

The only trouble is that, as soon as I asked him, I felt pangs of remorse. 

The Mets had gone on this amazing run that I was living and breathing every day.  Yet, it had been months since I went to a Met game with my dad.  Suddenly, I wanted to share a little piece of this September heaven with him. 

I needed to consult a textbook entitled "How To Disinvite 101."

It became a Beaver Cleaver moment for me.  How do I tell a friend that I would rather go to the game with my father?  This is not something somebody my age readily admitted.  I couldn't possibly tell the truth.  My school chum wasn't even a Met fan.  He rooted for the Yankees.  Why would he even be offended?  I rationalized my decision for hours. 

Ultimately, I told the truth.  Well, sort of.

I told my friend that my father was going to the game.  But, because he demanded to.  As the semi-truth...really, semi-lie...came out, the story started to make my father seem like this ruthless ogre.  He wanted to go to the game and he didn't care who I had invited.  After all, he paid for the tickets.  He had finally said.  Blah, blah, blah.  In reality, if my dad knew I was stiffing somebody over these tickets, he would have had nothing to do with the game.

My friend didn't take the news well.  And I couldn't blame him.  But, I figured that, five minutes after he got the news, the sting would wear off quickly.

Er, not so much.

That afternoon at Shea Stadium, my father and I got to watch the Pirates' Bob Moose (tragically killed in a car crash a few years later) pitch a no-hitter against the Mets.

Even though the Mets were the victims, my dad and I got totally wrapped up in Moose's triumph.  The Cubs had already lost that day and the Mets' magic number was dropping anyway.  Let's enjoy being a part of baseball history.

And my father and I did.  One of the greatest life moments that I shared with him.

Naturally, there was a phone call that night.  From my friend who was wounded all over again. 

"I hope your father enjoyed the no-hitter I was supposed to see."

And I took the heat which I had no doubt earned.

I still wouldn't trade that pain for anything in the world.

So now I have seen two in person.   And I realize how lucky I am.

So here's to all the pitchers who have.   And to one Bob Hendley who almost did.  There's enough greatness to share.

Dinner last night:  Pepperoni pizza at Stella Barra.

Classic TV Commercial of the Month - September 2015

Wow, two great treats in one commercial.

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

The Mugs "Back To School" Edition - September 2015

 Yoda's brother?

 I have a dermalogist I can recommend.

 You can make the same appointment as well.

 Wait till your father gets home.

 It's a look.

 Somebody was wearing a wide brim hat at the beach.

 I wonder if you can buy chins at Amazon.

Hair dye should be applied equally.

 Earth to planet, Earth to planet.  Come in, planet.

 Badly in search of an 80s hair band.

 Man, woman, whatever?   Send your guesses in now.

I need the story on why he's wearing a sun dress.

Dinner last night:  Hot dog at Petco Park.

Moron of the Month - September 2015

My God, the picture alone makes him look like a scumbag.  And, indeed, he is.   The worst kind.   It might be early in our September month but the moron designation is a worthy one.

This is Jorge Ramos who is a "news anchor" on Univision.  You might have heard about this guy being part of a news story last week regarding the TV personality running for President.   Now, before you gasp at me, this is not a blog piece backing the Trumpster in the upcoming Presidential campaign.   The guy is a boorish fool and shouldn't be allowed on the White House tour let alone live in the place.  But we're not dishing him here.   I'm sure that will come up here in the future.

But this "journalist" used the occasion of a Trump press conference to advance his own agenda.   The topic was illegal immigration and the Trumpster has strong opinions on that.   Some of those, you will know, are thoughts I may not necessarily disagree with.  Of course, Senor Ramos in his role as "news gatherer," decided to attack Trump during the course of the presser.   He clearly showed his opinion and, as a result, crossed the line of being a true journalist.   Which he is not.  See above.

Ramos is Hispanic and makes his rather large salary helping to formulate the opinion of millions of his listeners and viewers.  This piece of basura is supposedly a dual citizen of both the US and Mexico and that's suspect from the get-go.  He doesn't think Trump can and should deport 11 million illegal aliens and I agree.   But the point that Ramos, with his bloated ego and opinion of himself, misses on that subject is that the fact that Hispanics, both legal and illegal, are not being encouraged to grow into becoming true Americans.   You want to live here?   Learn to read the country's language?   Try to adapt to the country's culture?   Attempt to even speak the country's language???

But Ramos, from his bully pulpit in his "news anchor" chair, wouldn't dare try to cajole his peeps into actually embracing America.  Nope.  It's all about the wrong deal they're getting and how he is defending their best interests.

Bullshit!

Ramos is the worst kind of person in this country today.  As a dual citizen, Ramos has one foot in each country and really doesn't give a shit about either. It's all about Jorge Ramos and how he can advance the betterment of...well...Jorge Ramos.

There's another problem with Ramos and it's bigger than just him.   The fact that somebody allegedly positions him as a newsman and is anything but.   There are actually unsuspecting folks tuning into folks like him nightly.   They think they are getting an unbiased view of what's going on in the world.   These are the same fools who are misled by the likes of Rachel Madcow, Stephen Colbert, and Jon "Stewart" Liebowitz.   Sadly, we have people in this country who never were provided with the intelligence to filter out the difference between truth and opinion.   And the likes of crap like Jorge Ramos feast on that.   

Yeah, there is no way 11 million illegal aliens will be deported.   But if, in a strange cosmic event this happens, I hope and pray that a rat bastard by the name of Jorge Ramos is numero uno in the exit queue.

Dinner last night:  Hamburger.

This Date in History - September 2

Happy birthday to Chuck McCann.  He's the one in the middle.  Yep, the dead guy.

47 BC:  PHARAOH CLEOPATRA VII OF EGYPT DECLARES HER SON CO-RULER AS PTOLEMY XV CAESARION.

The earliest evidence of nepotism in history.

44 BC:  CICERO LAUNCHES THE FIRST OF HIS PHILIPPICS (ORATORICAL ATTACKS) ON MARK ANTONY.

Today Cicero would be hosting a host on MSNBC.

31 BC:  FINAL WAR OF THE ROMAN REPUBLIC - THE BATTLE OF ACTIUM - FORCES OF OCTAVIAN DEFEAT TROOPS MARK ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.  

Actium?   Isn't that for constipation?

1666:  THE GREAT FIRE OF LONDON BREAKS OUT AND BURNS FOR THREE DAYS, DESTROYING 10,000 BUILDINGS.

What's so great about that??

1752:  GREAT BRITAIN ADOPTS THE GREGORIAN CALENDAR, NEARLY TWO CENTURIES LATER THAN MOST OF WESTERN EUROPE.

So when are the holidays?

1789:  THE UNITED STATES DEPARTMENT OF THE TREASURY IS FOUNDED.

I'll take tens and twenties, thank you.

1807:  THE ROYAL NAVY BOMBARDS COPENHAGEN WITH FIRE BOMBS AND ROCKETS TO PREVENT DENMARK FROM SURRENDERING ITS FLEET TO NAPOLEON.

Napoleon:  "So I'll take that as a no."

1850:  SPORTING GOODS BUSINESSMAN ALBERT SPALDING IS BORN.

Catch this.

1859:  A SOLAR SUPER STORM AFFECTS ELECTRICAL TELEGRAPH SERVICE.

Not working.  Stop.  

1864:  THE AMERICAN CIVIL WAR - UNION FORCES ENTER ATLANTA AFTER THE CONFEDERATE DEFENDERS FLEE THE CITY.

But Scarlett will always have Tara.

1901:  VICE PRESIDENT OF THE US THEODORE ROOSEVELT UTTERS THE FAMOUS PHRASE "SPEAK SOFTLY AND CARRY A BIG STICK."

Later a slogan adopted by the porn industry.

1912:  ARTHUR ROSE ELDRED IS AWARDED THE FIRST EAGLE SCOUT AWARD OF THE BOY SCOUTS.

Must have known a lot of old ladies needed to get to the other side of the street.

1934:  ACTOR CHUCK MCCANN IS BORN.

One of the kiddie TV hosts of my childhood.

1935:  A HUGE LABOR DAY HURRICANE HITS THE FLORIDA KEYS, KILLING 423.  

Yet people still move to Florida.

1937:  BUSINESSMAN PETER UEBERROTH IS BORN.

I wonder if he started the cab company.

1945:  WORLD WAR II - THE SURRENDER OF JAPAN IS SIGNED AND ACCEPTED ABOARD THE BATTLESHIP USS MISSOURI IN TOKYO BAY.

Sayonara.

1948:  ASTRONAUT CHRISTA MCAULIFFE IS BORN.

An astronaut for...like...a minute and a half.

1951:  ACTOR MARK HARMON IS BORN.

Mr. Pam Dawber.

1963:  CBS EVENING NEWS BECOMES NETWORK TV'S FIRST HALF-HOUR WEEKNIGHT NEW BROADCAST, WHEN THE SHOW IS LENGTHENED FROM 15 MINUTES.

Nowadays, there's 15 minutes of commercials.

1969:  VIETNAMESE POLITICIAN HO CHI MINH DIES.

Happy trails.

1970:  NASA ANNOUNCES THE CANCELLATION OF TWO APOLLO MISSIONS TO THE MOON.

All your fault, Apollo 13.

1973:  POET J.R.R TOLKIEN DIES.

Reminder: I have yet to read or see any of the Lord of the Rings books or movies.

2001:  ACTOR TROY DONAHUE DIES.

Once married to Suzanne Pleshette and obviously no dummy.

2005:  ACTOR BOB DENVER DIES.

Really stuck on that island now.

2013:  THE NEW EASTERN SPAN OF THE SF-OAKLAND BAY BRIDGE OPENS TO TRAFFIC, THE WIDEST BRIDGE IN THE WORLD.

Until the next big one.

Dinner last night:  Sandwich.

Straight Outta Huh?

Yeah, this happened.   And nobody is more surprised than me.   Well, maybe you.

I get my car regularly serviced at Culver City Toyota.  It's ideal because there's an Arclight movie theater right down the block.  Instead of waiting out my oil change by watching people watch the View in the waiting room, I opt for a movie.

Last week, the timing worked out that there was only one movie available to me.   

Yep, the poster above.  

Okay, I wasn't completely resistant to seeing this film.   While I am certainly not a devotee of rap or hip hop music. I had read good reviews from both professionals and friends on Facebook.   Plus there is the faint buzz of Oscar talk.   And I did have a two-hour lube job to kill.

Full disclosure, I didn't even know what NWA stood for before this movie.   I thought I was the last person in the world not to know, but I have since learned that another friend was also in the dark on the abbreviation.  I know now.  And, while certainly not a fan of Dr. Dre and Ice Cube and Eazy E, it turns out that their story portrayed on the screen is somewhat fascinating.

True, the film is way too long.  True, the writing and direction is heavy-handed. All police are portrayed as extensions of Adolf Hitler's personality at its worst. And the hit that shot this group to stardom, "Fuck the Police" is so problematic in so many ways.

But, still, the story of NWA's creation and ultimate dissolution is a compelling one to watch.   I mean, it's your basic rags-to-riches tale and a perfect illustration of how instant success and stardom is never a good thing.  

Plus there is the supporting role of Paul Giamatti as NWA's manager to behold. Last year, after seeing "Whiplash" long before anybody else, I immediately predicted in these virtual pages that JK Simmons was a certain Oscar winner for his performance.  And he was.  Well, you heard it here.  Giamatti, for his extra creepy turn as manager Jerry Heller, will be going home with some gold on Oscar night.  He steals every scene he's in, which is fitting in this film because he's a thief.

I'd tell you to see this film for Paul Giamatti alone.   But, overall, it has a lot of merits and there are worse ways to wait out an oil change.

You could see and watch the View, eating snacks from Toyota's vending machine.

LEN'S RATING:  Three stars.

Dinner last night:  Garlic pork and vegetable stir fry.