Excerpt from 'Dominoes to Davy Crockett'

...After our move, we were closer to the center of town and different relatives. My grandmother also moved, this time to the home of Uncle Bill and Aunt Rose. On many Sundays, we'd go over to Oak Street to visit them. Nana would watch the Yankees or play dominos with us---but never at the same time. The other four adults would play Samba, Bolivia, or a similar canasta-based card game. Nana went to bed around 7 pm (she arose around 5 am,) so she didn't watch night games, and we kids had plenty of time to play games by ourselves in the kitchen.

Partners were family oriented, with my Mom and Uncle Bill (her brother) against my Dad and Aunt Rose (his sister.) While they played, we were treated to the aroma of the simmering tomato sauce, meatballs, and sausages prepared by Aunt Rose. In the living room, Billy was usually reading a sample from his vast supply of comic books, or else running around the neighborhood somewhere. When we were there at other times, I'd sit quietly reading his comic books.

I never bought any comic books myself, so Billy's stash was a good reading supply. And he had a lot of them. All kinds. Mickey Mouse with Minnie, Mortimer, Goofy, Horace, and Clarabell. Donald Duck and his nephews, Huey, Dewey, and Louie. Little Lulu with Tubby, Annie, and Izzie. Archie and his classmates Jughead, Veronica, Betty and Reggie. Superheroes called Superman, Superboy, Wonder Woman, Supergirl, Green Arrow, Batman and Robin, or Aquaman. Casper the Friendly Ghost and his brother ghosts. Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd. Daffy Duck. Henry the Chicken Hawk with Foghorn Leghorn. Scrooge McDuck and the Beasley Boys. Korean War comics---virtually everything published except the gory horror and romance types. I think Uncle Bill actually bought them for Billy. And the pile in the living room corner was about three feet tall!

In the kitchen, Mary Anne, my cousin Ginger (Virginia,) and me were usually playing a game: Sorry, Parchisi, Checkers, Dominos, Chinese checkers, Monopoly---or a card game of Canasta, rummy, Authors or Old Maid. Canasta was similar but simpler than the one our parents were playing. Ours was also friendlier. We laughed a lot. Uncle Bill, on the other hand, had a tendency to yell at Aunt Rose even though she wasn't his partner. We got used to it. But the food was always great and plentiful. These Sunday activities were usually lengthy. Our parents enjoyed playing until late at night---or at least late to us. I doubt their games went past 10 pm. They only drank---and that rarely---homemade anisette and rosette. Otherwise coffee, tea, soda, and iced tea were the drinks du jeur.

If Ginger and Mary Anne weren't around or didn't want to play games, I went out to the back porch. Uncle Bill and Aunt Rose had an old Victrola out there. The top opened for playing records with an older style needle and holder, and the cabinet had some records. I had to feed energy into it from a crank on the side, and I played and listened to the records---incorrectly apparently. The player had a steel stylus, which should be replaced after each record is played. I didn't know that, and I have my doubts that Uncle Bill or Aunt Rose did either. But cranking it up, putting a record on, and setting the heavy tone arm, sound box, and stylus on the record was an intriguing thing to my young mind. My aunt and uncle never had a problem with my playing the Victrola, and I don't know what happened to it. They probably sold it when they moved to Cottage Street a few years later.

Every year or so, the four of them would get together, alternating homes, and make a batch of the liqueurs anisette and rosette. Neutral grain spirits were hard to find but always there (or there wouldn't have been a preparation to prepare,) and the sugar and flavorings were easily obtained. I remember the use of the sink and jugs and hot water and the spirits, liquid and solid flavorings, and then they had to age for a while---about ten seconds before someone had a taste. After a few months, they were ready for imbibing in small amounts for celebratory purposes only. I mean they took all night to make, and they didn't make gallons of the stuff. Supplies were limited. I think all four of them expected the Middletown police to break in at any time and arrest them. It probably added to the preparation's mystique. But, it's my understanding that their efforts were perfectly legal. The few times I managed a taste was a sweet experience, because that's what they were: sweet liqueurs.

Aunt Rose was a fine cook. As a treat, she'd fry dough for us---pizza fritte. I liked it best plain with a little salt. Dunking it into the simmering sauce never occurred to me. The spaghetti or macaroni, meatballs, and sausages, were just the icing on the cake, as it were. I'm very surprised I remained so thin as a young kid and teen, since the aroma was a treat in itself.

Uncle Bill did have an annoying habit. When seated at the table, he'd rock his right leg continuously. It gained in momentum while he sat there, and sometimes he was able to shake the whole room and everyone in it. I kept waiting for the take-off. He did that until Aunt Rose finally yelled at him. No one else dared, except for Nana, his Mom. Then we'd have a welcomed pause until he started again. I think he did it unconsciously or maybe to get Aunt Rose riled. Who knows?

Nana made a lot of cakes, but her specialty was pineapple cake [my favorite anyway.] She made a white or yellow layer cake from scratch and there was a pineapple filling between the layers and on the top. Nana's recipes---of which there were plenty---were rather un-specific: a pinch of this, a pinch of that, a handful of this, etc. That pineapple filling was made from a can of crushed pineapple, coconut, and flour [to soak up and thicken the pineapple juice.)] For those of you who want to try making that concoction, it has to be heated long enough to cook the flour. Otherwise, you'd have a strange tasting mess. Nana's cakes were great stuff, especially the pineapple and the pineapple upside down cake. That cake always looked great with the pineapple rings and cherries on the top---err bottom. Her other recipes, as prepared by Mom, were taste sensations as well, especially turkey stuffing made with eggs, sage and unsliced bread; fruitcake [a holiday treat because it was dark and tasty---also soaked with rum for a month]; bread pudding with a sweet sauce, macaroni and cheese, and various soups and stews.

During those years we tinkered with arts and crafts. Naturally, we finger painted, colored with crayons, and built things from Popsicle sticks [we had to save them ourselves as bags of them weren't available to us.] We also used a little plastic, hollow tube with four points we called a “Knitty Knobby,” although it was officially known as a “Knitting Knobby.” We'd use that little doo-dad to knit narrow tubes, usually with no known purpose, although some people circled the tube and sewed it together to form a potholder or something. We just made the tube, and continued on, usually because we didn't know how to end the damn thing. We'd also be unable to start them without help.

It took more knitting knowledge than we had. Aunt Rose would always help us. She ran a local dressmaking factory and knew all about sewing. Mom was no slouch either. She made many of our clothes and costumes, and she altered even more to fit the person or occasion---read “hand-me-downs.”

When we couldn't find the plastic forms, we could use a large, wooden thread spool and a couple of brads tapped into one end. We could always find knitting needles or use the plastic ones included with the sets. We certainly bought and lost enough of them. Our family circle was thus filled with these long, knitted snakes. They became temporary necklaces, bracelets, wristlets, and anything else you can fashion from a long tube of knit thread.

Another of our crafts was the weaving of potholders from cloth loops. We bought the latter in bags. They were pretty much all the same (though some were more elastic than others,) and with the little square loom we made little woven cloth squares. I suppose if you connected them, they could make something bigger, but we never knew how to do that. Consequently, we made potholders---lots of potholders. We kids were a cottage business. The Turi and Stevens Families were awash in well-made and poorly made, cloth-loop, potholders.

We only knew how to use a small crochet needle to finish the edges and give the potholders a final cloth loop hook. We weren't able to put them together to make larger items. Since the loops came in various colors, we could also make a myriad of designs...

Random Thoughts

Many years ago, before the four-wheeled behemoths, chrome, tail fins, Edsels, sameness, SUVs, tiny, tinny deathtraps, and hybrids took over the automobile industry, there were grand cars with doors opening in a better way than they do now. I'm referring to the front opening doors in the rear. You know, so they can both latch in the middle of the car. You can see them in action in the older movies. To me, they're much easier to get into and out of. Perhaps the modern day dresses, being shorter and less flowing, make the difference? Perhaps the designers just wanted things uniform? Aerodynamics? 'Must make a change from year to year---any change.' Who knows? But it would be nice to see them again.

I like puns, especially good ones. But, I always worry about people who cringe, groan, and roll their eyes when hearing a pun, no matter whether its good or bad. But they're hypocrites, I say! They may groan, but they really like them. Any chance they get, they'll form their own and bring attention to them by saying: 'No pun intended.' 'No pun intended' my foot. They intend them. And who's the biggest user of puns? No contest. Headline writers for newspapers and online efforts use them all the time, sometimes to draw attention, sometimes because the writer falls in love with his own words. Long live good puns! They're a sign of intelligence---a rare comodity in the average news writer. Please, provide toleration-only for bad puns. But, for the most part, puns take a conscious effort from the speaker or writer, and that's always to be praised.

Imagination in the movies or on TV---from the viewer, that is---is generally no longer permitted to exist. You want death, gore, guts, and blood? Well, they're no longer going to be referred to, they're going to be shown in all their glory. Fade out for a love scene? Not any more. We're seeing all the hot and heavy details. If I want porn, I can go to the proper movie. If I want a story and good acting, I once found it in the movie theaters. Too bad that isn't quite the case anymore. Would old-time radio shows have any adherents today? Would anyone understand them or be able to visualize the storyline? Orson Welles' Mercury Theater version of 'War of the Worlds' would never scare anyone today. A quick check on the Internet would blow the whole thing---unless you check out Area 51.

Now that I think of it, who are 'they?' That's what I've heard all my life. the ubiquitous and undeterminable 'they.' 'They' do this. 'They' do that. [singular or plural] If 'they' can reach the moon, why can't... 'It was the sixties, and they all did it.' And no one owns up to being 'they', whether the contextual precept is right or wrong; so I guess whoever 'they' are, they'll remain in their linguistic limbo for some time yet. 'Chickens! Come forth and identify!'

I'm being turned off by televised sporting events. With all the flashbacks, in-game interviews, instant replays, and annoying graphics, there's little enough time left for the actual game or race. When I tune in, I have no idea what's going on. A guy hits a homer, and I see the thing replayed a dozen times, not to mention the flashbacks to a previous inning, earlier in the year, or previous years--but, then I did mention them, didn't I? How many times can a guy score the same touchdown without confusing the audience? As for the playoffs and all star games? Forget it. I've seen three-ring circuses with less pomposity, garishness, and self congratulation from the advertisers, commentators, and players. And don't get me started on the 'pre-game shows.' Bombastic, condescending, and sometimes arrogant are the usual know-it-all participants. Who can speak [yell] the loudest? Voice-over reaches a whole new level.

Older movies [as I get older, I watch older movies; you know, the 'one time' modern ones] and much current TV often include death and death scenes. But, does anyone talk about them? Noooo! 'Is Mr X dead?' asks the girl breathlessly, through tears of sadness. The doctor either stares at her, starts reciting a lengthy preamble, or gives a gentle nod---the latter being of the type of action that could mean almost anything: Don't ask me; I don't know; I'll call you later; No, he's not dead, he's leading an aerobics class; No, he's gone to better things: taming the 'Ghost Riders in the Sky'; Who are you?; Are you busy tomorrow night? Or what am I doing here? Fade out. Anything but a straight answer: 'He's dead. I'm sorry.'

Why can't TV chefs understand the old kitchen tricks? Do they really think no one could cook before they showed up? Why must they act as if they're the only ones who know how to perform in a kitchen? Case in point: putting oil atop the water being boiled for pasta cooking. History knows that oil calms an angry sea or boiling water. [Sure, it fouls the sea and kills vegetation, but it does prevent the sea from roiling over.] Hey guys! It's not added for flavor, but to keep the cooking pasta and water from boiling all over the stove. Do these 'experts' actually think the average home cook always uses the proper sized pot of water in a professional cooking-staged area, thus preventing a boil-over? I doubt it. So, take heart readers, the TV chefs don't always know what they're talking about when they attack old kitchen secrets, such as our adding of oil for cooking pasta. The starch in the pasta can cause a boil-over if the pot isn't big enough or the amount of water is too small---a normal occurrence in many households.

I wish sporting event promoters would engage talented amateurs to sing the National Anthem before the games or races. The tune demands and expects effort of the highest quality. The so-called professionals and 'stars' generally mangle it, have lousy voices without the electronics, turn it into their own poorly-voiced style, or don't even know the song. 'What National Anthem?' The occasional amateurs usually do a great job. I know it's a difficult song, but the amateurs put effort into the singing of it, while the professionals usually throw it off as a 'photo op' or publicity action.

The word is H-a-lloween, with an 'a', and not H-o-lloween with an 'o'. I was listening to a major TV station newscast about that time, and everyone involved---including the interviewees---pronounced it incorrectly. But, then, that's been the case for years, and all my comments have fallen on hollow ears. And the correct name is Sleepy Hollow, and the headless horseman still tosses a pumpkin on H-a-lloween. Remember, it's 'All Hallow's Eve' and not 'All Hollow's Eve.' Departed souls are not usually 'hollow.'

Words 'they' or 'their' or 'them' are constantly misused as pronouns for a singular noun. My son is not a 'they', but a he, him or in the possessive, his. Your daughter is not a 'they', but a she or her, or hers. Your child is not a 'they' but a him or her. Ability to properly speak with agreeing nouns and verbs is a reasonable expectation from the media, as it is from the average American. It's amazing what vocal errors come out of mouths with the annoying, pure white teeth on the screen. 'Look! See me in the dark!' It really doesn't take too much extra effort to speak correctly---when you know how to do it. [Advertising executives take note.] Sentences can easily be reformed to make the needed point. [Don't leave school early!]

Thus are my random thoughts for today. When my brain gets older and more wrinkly, I'll voice some more.

Junior Frolics and Associates - a Day in the Wasteland Part 8 of 8 Le Finis

Do you ever wonder how the TV moguls handled the television day back in the fifties? Probably not. But, I'm going to tell you anyway. This was a time of broadcast TV only---and often a limited amount of that, since the stations went off the air at late night with the ever-present test pattern to drone in our sleepy ears. As most were, our TV set was a black and white contraption, FADA by name, gold mine by nature to the repairman. I can only remember that one TV throughout my childhood. While color TV was ostensibly available, like the space shuttle it was beyond the means of most viewers. Besides, the number of color presentations was miniscule.

Since the date I've chosen from the TV Guide is Wednesday, December 28th, 1955, I'd have been home on Christmas vacation from grammar school. It had been a snowless Christmas, according to my old photos. So, it may have been cold, but the ground was bare. Anyway, what fun would snow have been then? School couldn't have been called off because we were all on vacation. Kid's logic. Save the snowstorms for school days.

I don't remember what I received for Christmas that year, but I'd have been watching television even if I was doing something else at the same time. I've always liked the combination. At 10 am, I would watch 'Garry Moore'. It was opposite 'Ding Dong School', but I was ten and no longer needed Miss Frances. 'Arthur Godfrey' against 'Ernie Kovacs' at 10:30 was no contest. Ernie was among my favorites, especially with his 'Nairobi Trio' skits. At 11 am, I'd have to turn the thing off because I wasn't interested in 'Home and Women's News,' 'Janet Dean', or the 'Romper Room'---though beginning at 11:15 I could watch 'Life With Elizabeth', 'Beulah', and 'Mr and Mrs North.' These latter three were 15 minute shows [about the length of one of today's commercials], bringing us to noon.

My favorite at-home lunch was Campbell's Tomato Soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. Salty fare for sure, but very tasty. Nothing on television could keep me away from the aromatic kitchen table, although on rare occasions Mom let me take the meal into the living room. But this being Christmas, I probably enjoyed turkey sandwiches and cold stuffing---on fresh hard rolls if possible. I was never a fan of stuffing sandwiches because it seemed somewhat redundant [I didn't really understand the word at that time] and too bready.

Noon was the traditional start to the Soap Opera Day, this time with 'Valiant Lady.' Competition included 'Tennessee Ernie', 'Merry Mailman' [also past my years], The Christophers [a ubiquitous religious show], and the 'Coffee Club.' 'Love of Life', another soap, checked in at 12:15. Then at 12:30, the soap 'Guiding Light' aired. Soaps were rather short at the time, most being just fifteen minutes---barely enough time for a TV kiss these days.

'Jack Paar' arrived at 1 pm with his variety show. There wasn't much shown against him: 'Food for Thought' [not cooking], Nancy's Kitchen, and a couple of old movies. 'Love Story' at 1:30 was an interview show. Then, a game show, and two movies ['The Bunker' and 'Ramrod'.] At 2 pm, we move on to 'Robert Q Lewis', a 'Richard Willis' beauty show and some more movies ['Dr Mac', 'The Stars Don't Shine', and 'Road to Alcatraz.']

'Art Linkletter's House Party' meandered in at 2:30 against 'Jinx's Diary' [Jinx Falkenburg's fashion], 'Maggie McNellis' [today: modern French furniture], another film ['Some Small Nobility'], and the musical 'Florian ZaBach' show, this day with 'Glow Worm', 'Last Round-Up', 'April in Portugal', and 'Danny Boy.' 3 pm announced itself as it did when school would naturally be in session. 'The Big Payoff' quiz show, 'Matinee Theater', another movie ['Trouble Preferred'], and 'The Ted Steele Show', with guests Corkie Robbins and Ceil Loman. Oh, and Dione Lucas had a cooking show. At 3:30 'Bob Crosby' rolled in with 'Sixteen Tons' and 'The First Snowfall', followed by 'Window Shopper', 'Candid Camera [Alan Funt; I always thought this show was old film, but later I realized I was watching original shows], and 'Jewish Talent Unlimited.' The latter featured Able Ellstein presenting Fern Field and Bill Werbell. Short shows for the hour included 'Mr and Mrs Jewish TV' and 'Les Paul and Mary Ford.' Throw in a five minute news show.

More from the soap genre at four with 'Brighter Day' and 'Date With Life'---'Jessie hears the news and makes an angry decision.' Also at 4 pm was the 'Wendy Barrie Show', a Hopalong Cassidy western, more Ted Steele, a western with Buster Crabbe, and another movie: 'Rocketship X-M.' Soap 'Secret Storm' rolled in at 4:15, sided by 'First Love.' A quiz [On Your Account], 'World of Mr Sweeney' with Charles Ruggles, the 'Outdoor Adventure Club', and---drum roll!!---'Junior Frolics' with Uncle Fred Sayles---though I wasn't watching it regularly at the time. Age ten was almost 21, so I was leaving the kid stuff behind me. As you'll remember, 'Junior Frolics' was a cartoon calvacade led by Farmer Gray and his mice 'friends.'

The 5 pm movie was 'Diplomatic Passport' with Marsha Hunt. 'Pinky Lee' amused the younger crowd, and Ted Steele had his teenaged 'Bandstand'---Young Judeans from Kingsbridge, Bronx. Tom Tyler starred in 'Feud of the Trail', and finally we reach Annette and the 'Mickey Mouse Club.'

Mickey's Club had newsreels of water pets, horse hobbies, good shepherds and a dog's life; 'Mr Toad Car', 'Musical Farmer', and a bio of the black bear. It wasn't noted, but I think it fair to assume that Annette and Jimmy had a song or two, probably with the Club. 'Howdy Doody' signed in at 5:30. 'Howdy and Heidi discover that Doodyville has been sold to the Army. It was to be used as a site for the testing of bombs.'

At 6 pm was the news, 'Wild Bill Hickok', with Guy Madison and Andy Devine, 'Rocky Jones', 'Gene Autry', and 'Durango Valley Raiders' with Bob Steele. The Early Show [movie] was 'Heartbeat', a comedy starring Ginger Rogers. We skimmed through sports, weather, 'Looney Toons', 'Cisco Kid', 'Ramar of the Jungle', and a Roy Rogers and Dale Evans western. Hang on, folks, we're getting near prime time.

Starting at 7 pm we enjoyed a New York City special of the top ten local stories from the year, 'Kukla, Fran and Ollie', a detective movie ['Unforgotten Crime'], more news and weather, 'Les Paul and Mary Ford' again, and the ubiquitous 'Film Shorts.' The 'Brave Eagle' of Keith Larsen galloped in at 7:30 along with the 'Eddie Fisher' show ['Something's Gotta Give', 'Naughty Lady of Shady Lane', 'Love is a Many-Splendoured Thing'], a few more movies ['The Black Book' with Robert Cummings and Arlene Dahl, and 'Knight Without Armor' with Marlene Dietrich and Robert Donat], and 'Disneyland', where the viewers visited 'Tomorrowland' for 'Man in the Moon.' This was a time of only Disneyland [just opened] as a huge theme park. Disneyworld in Florida was still a dream. More news, Liberace, and the first installment of the 'Million Dollar Movie' [M$DM] followed quickly. The M$DM for the week was 'Three Husbands', starring Emlyn Williams, Eve Arden, Howard Da Silva, and Vanessa Brown. It must be noted again, that the same M$DM was shown each evening at 7:30 and 10pm, several times on Saturday and Sunday for the week. The movie was hard to miss. And if you liked it, you were like a pig in-----well, you had plenty of opportunities to watch it.

Prime Time! Prime Time! 8 pm greeted us with 'Godfrey and Friends', 'Director's Playhouse' ['Titanic Incident'], 'Cases of Scotland Yard' [The Candlelight Murder'], and 'Oral Roberts.' At 8:30, the Anderson family joined us in 'Father Knows Best.' Robert Young, Jane Wyatt, Elinor Donahue led us into that daily adventure. George Murphy [later Senator] hosted 'MGM Parade' [Nelson Eddy and Jeannette MacDonald; Robert Benchley; a Susan Hayward dramatic scene; and a few other shorts], and Jack Webb starred in 'Badge 714' with Ben Alexander, asking for 'Just the facts, ma'am. Just the facts.'

Deep into prime time came 'The Millionaire', and Marvin Miller as my favorite person, Michael Anthony. He was charged with delivering $1 million checks [tax free!] to friends and neighbors and following up with the details of what happened. I'm still waiting for mine. Against that was the 'Kraft Theatre' ['Eleven O'Clock Flight' with Joanne Woodward,] 'Masquerade Party', 'China Smith' [Dan Duryea with another air drama, 'Plane to Tainan'], 'Confidential File', 'College Basketball' with Iona [my alma mater] against Springfield College. I have no idea who won. I was only ten and couldn't bet anywhere---though I found out a few years later that my barber would have been the connection I needed.

'I've Got a Secret' with Garry Moore arrived at 9:30 along with 'Break the Bank', 'Strange Stories' ['Out of the Dark'], and Broderick Crawford in 'Highway Patrol.' The former two shows didn't tell us in advance what they were about. At 10 pm, another movie studio presented itself in the '20th Century Fox Hour', this time with Cameron Mitchell, Sylvia Sidney, Vera Miles, and Alan Hale Jr [of 'Gilligan's Island' fame in the hazy future.] Ralph Edwards gave us 'This is Your Life.' The surprisee wasn't named in this TV Guide, but it was probably some unknown Hollywood technician or director. Willie Pep fought Andy Arkel in Miami, the M$DM signed in again, and Herb Philbrick [Richard Carlson] acted out another espionage instalment of 'I Led Three Lives.'

At 10:30 you could toss back a cold one and watch the 'Rheingold Theatre', tonight with Douglas Fairbanks Jr. On other channels were news, sports, and a Bill Stern interview. Eleven o'clock rolled in with the news shows, CBS and NBC at ten minutes, and Dumont at fifteen. We could also choose 'Star Showcase' [Slide, Darling, Slide'], 'Damon Runyon Theater' ['The Good-Luck Kid' with Gene Barry and Barbara Hale], a Liberace reprise, and another mystery movie ['Castle in the Desert' with Sidney Toler]. Throw in the 'Late Show' ['Gay Desperado' - Nino Martini and Ida Lupino], and 'Featurama' [a daredevil car race; a salmon's fight for life; and a Paul Killiam comedy], and we arrive at Steve Allen and the Tonight Show. His show started at 11:20 for local variety, and then became national with the 'Tonight Show' at 11:30, this time: 'exhibition by an elephant lifter and a talk with the Dartmouth College Indians; songs by Gloria Mann and Steve Lawrence.

Les Paul and Mary Ford made another appearance, and Boris Karloff starred in 'Juggernaut.' The movie, 'Four in a Jeep' and 'Evening Prayer' brought us to the finale, the 'Late Late Show', 'Riverside Murder' [time approximate] with Alistair Sim. We could 'Count Sheep' with Nancy Berg at 1 am and finish the day with the Rev Michael McLaughlin on 'Sermonette' and Father Patrick Ahern on 'Give Us This Day.'

Okay, fade to the Test Patterns until 6:50. Each one sounded like a smoke alarm that couldn't be turned off. And when you did turn the TV off, the picture disappeared slowly into a tiny point in the center of the screen.

I notice that the Reverend McLaughlin, after giving the Sermonette at 1:05 am, returned with the opening Sermonette at 6:50 am Thursday morning, December 29th. Hang in there Rev!

Junior Frolics and Associates Part 7 of 8

What else did we see? Charles Dickens' 'Oliver Twist' [1948] with Obi Wan Kenobi the younger [Alec Guinness,] and Robert Newton was the epitome of Long John Silver in 'Treasure Island' [1950.] I liked Newton better than Noah Beery as the peg-legged pirate. The 'Thief of Baghdad' [1940] with Sabu and Tim Whelan---I could have watched that movie once a day for years. Sabu with his flying carpet inspired me to write an Arabian short story years later [currently shelved due to political considerations.] The mysterious and strange 'Scarlet Pimpernel' [1935] of Leslie Howard was a Sunday afternoon treat. The 'Adventures of Robin Hood' [1938] in all its black and white glory allowed the straight shooting Errol Flynn to save Olivia de Havilland. Another presentation was 'Captain Blood' [1935,] a rousing sea adventure again showing Errol Flynn as Peter Blood ['…Colonel Darling! ...'] yet again winning the hand of Olivia de Havilland. Those two stars made eight movies together.

And who could skip 'King Kong' [1933] and the jungle adventure on Skull Island with Faye Wray, Robert Armstrong, and the ingénue, Mr. Kong. Or 'Frankenstein' [1931] with Colin Clive, Mae Clark, and the unbilled Boris Karloff. This film was scary in black and white, and imbedded in my young mind the scariness of dark, mountaintop, castle laboratories. I've always avoided such places---not that I was ever invited to one. I wonder how scary the movie would have been in color. Frankenstein's monster was really green.

The dark and eerie images of Bela Lugosi's 'Dracula' [1931] stayed with me for a long time---in scary black and white. '…I vant to bite your neck…'---perhaps not a direct quote, but in Lugosi's accent, it would have been a scary phrase. I was very happy to have Zacherley cut the horror a bit with his comedy. Thank you, John. I hope your wife's brain hasn't been served with onion dip.

Dracula and Frankenstein, partnered with the compelling life of Larry Talbot seen in the 'Wolf Man' [1941---year of the wolf bane,] to make the Big Three horror movies of my youth. I watched them numerous times; black and white, nothing graphic (spurring imagination was the key,) no gore, but pure Gothic terror at times for a young boy of the fifties.

When Dad spent the evening donating carpentry service to the Church? Why that was a good time for Happy Felton and the Dodger game, again with me on the floor in front of the TV with my Hershey ice cream or blue cheese and crackers---slowly disappearing into the setting son.

Happy Felton, a rotund fellow who looked rather silly in a Dodger uniform, had a pre-game show just before the Dodger games. Down the right field line, the guest Dodger player would usually throw or fungo hit a ball for the kid contestants to catch against the right field bullpen wall. The player then chose the best of three to win the contest. The kid generally won some memorabilia, baseball equipment, or both.

Happy also had a regular Saturday show, 'Happy Felton's Knothole Gang,' with guest players from the New York teams teaching kids baseball basics. The kids were taught in Ebbets Field, the Polo Grounds, and Yankee Stadium. It ran from 1950 to 1957. I guess it ended, in part, because the Dodgers and Giants moved from New York City to the West Coast leaving two-thirds of his ballparks empty.

Friday was grocery-shopping night for our family. We went with Mom and Dad when I was very young, but I could tell that Dad didn't enjoy the trip. He treated it as a responsibility and not as an enjoyable experience. I wasn't much older when the trip turned to an us and Mom-only expedition. Sometimes I went, but I was more likely to stay at home watching educational western TV or the Dodgers. So, most of the time, Mom went alone---well, not entirely. I guess little Mary Anne went with her.

And when she returned, I'd help unload the car. After which, I'd spend a few minutes looking through the bags to see what Mom had bought---not putting things away, mind you, but checking things out. Cookies, candies, and crackers were usually opened before the rest of the bags were empty. Oreos, Hydrox, Peanut Butter Creams, and chocolate chips were the cookies of choice. We also enjoyed Premium Saltine Crackers with almost anything. I had wheat crackers for my blue cheese.

Our grocery shopping was done at the A & P in downtown Middletown, near the phone company. It's not that we had a lot of choices. Other than the Grand Union on Orchard Street across from the library, there wasn't anyplace else of size to shop. There was the local Markovitz at the other end of town, and several other smaller groceries around, including Shoemaker's down our street at Larkin's corner [where I voted every year for Miss Rheingold.] But their prices were higher [though phenomenally cheap by today's standards], and they had limited selections. We only used the latter when we needed a few things and couldn't go to the A & P. When I was young, the stores were relatively small. No one even imagined a super-store. In the A & P, which was miniscule compared to the current stores, there were narrow aisles, stuffed shelves, the aroma of ground Eight O'clock Coffee pervading the air, a basic selection of fresh produce [in smaller quarters, the aromas are stronger,] and a bin of empty product boxes near the front. The A & P even had its own house brand of beer, though I don't know anyone who dared taste it. Noise and conversation abounded while our groceries were packed in paper bags or the binned boxes as we chose. Big, black cash registers were used and filled the air with even more noise. Ka-chink. Ka-chink.

When I'd be with Mom shopping, I'd push the cart with my attention directed around me to see who else was there. Thus, I often ran over Mom's poor heels in front of me. She'd have something to say about it, but I'd be likely to do it again. Maybe that's part of the reason she didn't mind my staying home and leaving the grocery shopping to her and Mary Anne.

Most stores were open to 9 pm on Friday nights. The rest of the week saw 6 pm closings, and everybody was closed on Sundays. This schedule was pretty standard, and I remember working at Green's Department Store from 1964-66 when we'd be open only on Friday nights. Of course the Christmas season was different. The stores remained open later each night as a matter of course–but still only until nine.

Except for the Yankees, 'Perry Mason,' and an occasional movie we hadn't seen before, Mom and Dad didn't watch television all that much. Dad occasionally watched Wednesday night or Friday night boxing when there was nothing else to engage his interest or Sugar Ray Robinson was on the card. Dad was an adherent of the concept that Sugar Ray was, 'pound for pound' the best boxer around. [Though that concept, literally, doesn't make much sense.] If we were all in the living room, we'd be watching television, and Dad and Mom would be reading---a habit I picked up. I can read anything light while the TV is on. Anything heavy or more intellectual will require silence. So the TV goes off.

I toiled on my homework upstairs in my room or downstairs at the kitchen table while Mom washed the dishes. I liked to have her immediately available to answer a question or deny having the knowledge. Any questions mathematical or physical were normally saved for Dad. I'd open the learning season by choosing new supplies such as a protractor, compass, pencils, pens, rulers---though they'd go missing when the next summer came around.

I used all those supplies, and usually brought some home each night in a book bag. Nobody used knapsacks, and we didn't have lockers. We could leave some books and notes in our desks, which had flip-tops, since for the most part we didn't change desks or classrooms. In high school it wasn't cool to use the book bags anymore. We could use small gym bags or use a rubber strap around the loose books, or just carry the books themselves. We still didn't have any lockers in high school either, but at that point we didn't care. The books used were simply too heavy to cart home unless we needed them for homework. The only desk storage space was underneath the seat. But, really, who would have stolen a Latin or Algebra textbook?

As with any youth, my homework was sometimes sketchy or forgotten. Amid the laughing and yelling on the high school bus, we'd compare our night's work, I'd share my work, or I'd copy from someone else's efforts if I agreed with him. I 'borrowed' from Jack Mills enough to have him comment about it in my yearbook. I was no slouch in criticizing his work either, but still---better a wrong something than nothing at all. There were many other pens and pencils working on the bus ride, so I wasn't alone in 'borrowing' homework. And as necessary, I lent my Latin efforts to others, even Jack. Fair is fair! Besides, nobody but Madeleine could translate Latin with any competence, and she wouldn't participate in our fair and balanced swapping. Usually, most of the rest of us were all off base. My efforts usually had numerous blank spaces for missing words or phrases. Opera publicus, Sister Chabonel!

Surprisingly, we didn't talk much about the previous night's TV fare, unless it was important for some reason: major cold war news, changes to the hierarchy in the USSR, the newest rock and roll songs, new model cars, major league baseball games or trades, or local news of note, or the latest romantic pairings. But mostly we had our own concerns.

I know. I know. I'm off the TV track and on the bus track to school. But, everything just flows, rather like responding to an essay question for which I actually know the answer. So, I let my mind wander wherever it wants to go---stream of consciousness as it were.

Back in the fifties, we could actually tell the difference between cars and the models of each make, as well as their years of manufacture. The models changed quite a bit each year, and kept us memorizing. Seeing them in a sunny situation was sometimes awe-inspiring. Man and machine. These days, you can't tell one model from another or one nameplate from another, and the cars are decidedly not awesome. Cookie-cutter cars, as it were---with the exception of the Chrysler 300 and Dodge Charger, which look like each other. And they both look like the Bentley. And I like all three, though I'd still rather have a jaguar. We didn't really track the changes in annual television set models---though I must say again that the Sylvania halo television appealed to my tender years.

I wasn't the type who could study amid loud rock and roll, or loud anything for that matter. In high school and college my study habits were rather quiet. I made my noise in social situations. We maintained a quiet home at 126 Cottage, except when Mom and Dad were yelling at each other.

Not noisy at home? I can still laugh about the time Mom caught me in my room singing 'Mack the Knife,' with Bobby Darin's versions on the radio and the record player all bellowing or blasting at the same time--- well…I wasn't studying, that's for sure. Mom opened the door and scared the hell out of me. Couldn't she have waited until the song was over?

Junior Frolics & Associates Part 6 of 8

'The Million Dollar Movie' [M$DM] was an interesting concept. The same movie played at 7:30 pm and then again at 10 pm [during the day on weekends] on WOR-TV, Channel 9, a local channel. And this for an entire week! Some of the times changed over the years, but the M$DM lasted for quite some time: 'King Kong', 'Yankee Doodle Dandy', 'Mighty Joe Young', 'Three Husbands', 'Adventure in Baltimore' etc. Not every movie could be a M$DM. Only ones which could gather your attention over and over and not become stale---and me and Mary Anne could attest to that. We watched some of them weekday evenings at the early showing, and on weekends during the daylight hours. [Movies changed on Mondays.]

You don't see that kind of station or network dedication today. One exception is one of the true marathons of one show I've ever seen on TV. Spike TV showed CSI for an entire week. All the time. Every hour a different episode. From 9 am thru 3 am. From Monday through Friday. It filled in a lot of dead time as background for these essays when nothing very interesting was on any of the other stations. I usually have the TV on for company these days, and I can write these essays while they keep me interested between sentences. [USA does have frequent mini-marathons with Law and Order CI or Law and Order: SVU for a whole day] Other than the M$DM, there weren't any marathons in early TV.

Running times for the 'Million Dollar Movie' depended on the length of the movies, and how much had been cut to disinfect them for our poor minds. But, the movies were generally an hour and a half, some two. There were fewer commercials at the time [yet we still complained.] These days, with so many cable channels, you can see one movie a hundred times over the period of a few months. But it'll be hit or miss and won't be on a regular schedule. And I've seen movies on modern channels interrupted by numerous commercials---often at a poorly appointed time---the break often going up to three minutes. TV film editors continue to be lacking a cylinder or two.

Among the movies I particularly remember from that M$DMovie' series were 'Yankee Doodle Dandy' [1942] with Jimmie Cagney and Joan Leslie ['…born on the fourth of July...'] the story of George M. Cohan, the prolific composer and showman, and “Mighty Joe Young' (1949) with Terry Moore. This latter movie featured a stirring rendition of 'Beautiful Dreamer,' proving that the right music can decidedly tame the wild beast. It tamed Mr. Joseph Young of Africa, and it can always tame me. Mary Anne and I loved those two movies, and when they were on the M$DM, we must have seen each one a dozen times during its week. They were definitely one of the movies we had “seen before.'

I still remember lying on the floor watching Jimmie Cagney faking old age, kicking up his heels, dancing around the stage, singing, marching with his movie family, and being rightly humble with President Roosevelt. The music sold me on the pre-war tin-pan-alley tunes. As for Mr. Joseph Young of Africa, I can still see him playing tug of war with the 'strong' men, of whom Primo Carnera was the only one I recognized as being authentic, though I had heard of the Swedish Angel, Killer Kuwalski, and Man Mountain Dean. Later in the movie, Joe was a sight riding in the back of a moving truck, peaking out, shaking his fist, and then climbing out to scale a burning building to save the orphans. Hot stuff! And that fire scene had an orange tint throughout, reminiscent (I suppose) of the silent movie era---although I didn't know that until later when I had a color TV.

Junior Frolics and Associates Part 5 of 77,845

I'm a bit late with this installment, because I found a new interest and delved into it full blast. Genealogy. I discovered a lot about my family, especially those from the old countries, Ireland and Italy. I'm still heavily into to, notably with a free trial at a genealogy site---and detailed investigations of census data---but I took the time today to catch up on my blogs.

Speaking of horror movies [I was?], who could forget Zacherley? (John Zacherle) He introduced late night horror movies and integrated his 'comedy” with the films. I think he was only shown in New York City when I saw him: Channel 11 (WPIX) at 11:15 pm Monday and Friday. Of course, I usually enjoyed his antics only on Friday. Dad and Mom went to bed after the 11:00 news and weather (fifteen minutes,) so I had free reign on watching the horror movie until I was ordered to bed. Mom never seemed to forget I was still up and watching TV. Dad could sleep through anything.

My research shows that Zacherley was on 'Shock Theater' from September 1958 to April 1959. I spent many hours (again on the floor with my Hershey's Ice Cream or blue cheese and crackers) watching: his ghostly appearance; his laboratory where he experimented on his wife's 'brain' (actually a head of cauliflower–--and we all knew it;) his scraping of a tin cup along jail bars during a prison movie; and the many other hilarious interruptions during his 'B' movie presentations: these all made the silly horror and other mysteries a lot more interesting. I liked them better than the current episodes of gore. Too bad Zacherley aged and is no longer actively with us.

While I never got to see Vampira, I've seen a lot of the more recent horror movie hostess, Elvira. But these days, there are no similar hosts because horror movies have gone gory, and any host humor would mean little other than poor taste to the viewers. Robert Osborne of TCM is too stiff to introduce the old genre films properly on TCM, and other horror hosts are too juvenile and silly, and that's saying a lot when compared to the likes of Zacherley. Some teens and teenyboppers may enjoy the current blood baths, but they're still not family fare.

Did you wake up to J Fred Muggs and Dave Garroway? Or go to sleep after Steve Allen, Jack Paar, or Johnny Carson? In our area, the New York local news we watched was at 11 pm with John McCaffrey and it lasted ten minutes. The weatherman, Tex Antoine, took another five thanks to sponsor Con Ed. He explained the weather with magnetic images of clouds, snow, or sunshine on the metal part [something like a rebus] and drew Uncle Wethbee on the drawing board part. John Cameron Swayze [before his Timex Watch commercials] and Douglas Edwards were also newscasters of the period.

At 11:20 we could enjoy the first ten minutes of the 'Steve Allen Show' [from New York at the time.] This portion was called a Variety Show. At 11:30, the rest of the country tuned in to the show, now named 'The Tonight Show'---which was on until 1 am. I enjoyed Steve Allen, but I was rarely allowed to stay up to watch him during the week. I'm glad he had another show earlier in the evening. In later years, I enjoyed his TV specials 'Meeting of the Minds' and a series of mystery novels. Steve also composed some 1100 songs. Yes, he was a very funny and talented fellow.

At one time, we had a brown, bakelite, AM radio. Mom used it to listen to Joe Ryan and other personalities of the day on Local Wall-1040 all the time---but mostly Joe. He sweet-talked most of the Middletown women, but sadly, his looks never matched his suave, housewife-attracting voice. I liked to listen to the music, but that radio was mom's. Others used it only on rare occasions, like the Middletown-Port Jervis football game on Thanksgiving. Dad only listened to the radio in the car [too often tuned to the Yankee baseball game, as far as I was concerned.] It was his car and his radio.

While we ran through several console and tabletop radios, we had only one TV. While we must have had earlier ones, the TV I remember was a FADA. I don't remember what model of this brand we had [they were probably just number and letter combinations], but the company stopped making its TV sets in 1956. Our set must have been from a few years before that, probably 1952 or 1953. I don't remember our buying a TV in 1954 or 1955. Other TVs always seemed on the greener side of life, and I liked the Sylvania sets with their Halo lights around the screen. I see that in ads today offering Phillip's flat-screen TV sets with 'ambient' light. The light changes with the screen image to expand the viewing sense. No new concept there.

Our FADA served us well for a long time and financed the education of the children of two TV repairmen, Walt and then Jerry. We saw them so often, especially around dinner-time, they became a part of our family. Walt's father had been a doctor, and I guess treating sick TV sets was Walt's way of carrying on the spirit. But it was my father who saved the day when he carried the set to the porch and watched the fire burn out. Even after that, we had it repaired and returned to loving service. We kids once had a three-color plastic sheet that was stuck onto the TV screen using the available static electricity: blue at the top (sky,) green in the middle (grass,) and brown on the bottom (dirt.) That was supposed to simulate color. It didn't.

Sundays was 'Wonderama' time. It starred Sonny Fox and Sandy Becker and sported: western movies, art instruction, quizzes, fairy tales, folk dances, Captain Video, animal guests---pretty much everything across the spectrum. The two hosts alternated, but I liked Fox better. We were particularly appreciative of the special Wonderama Christmas Shows in 1956, 1957, and 1959. They included caroling, dancing, interviews, kids, toys, etc. The Picture for a Sunday Afternoon (Sunday, 1 pm) was always best after I had made a quick trip to Larkin's. Mom gave me money, and I picked out penny candy with Ray Frink, the store manager---who always seemed to be there. I'd choose what I wanted with a consideration of Mom and Dad, though they really didn't have any favorites. They didn't eat much of the candy anyway.

I could choose from Mary Janes, wrapped caramels, malted milk balls, Sugar Daddys, Sugar Babies, Jujy Fruits, Chocolate Babies, little Tootsie Rolls, watermelon slices, triple-flavor coconut cubes, Bit-O-Honey, Candy Buttons, wax-syrup bottles, gum drops, Mexican Hats, spearmint leaves, licorice pipes, licorice shoe strings, licorice wheels, cherry shoe strings, marshmallow ice cream cones, allsorts, jelly nougats, Jordan Almonds, Walnettos---and if I had a nickel for myself, a package of baseball cards and bubble gum. On Sundays, we didn't go in for hard candy or chewing gum.

We'd all share the sugary bounty while watching the likes of L'il Abner [before the musical,] Gunga Din, Beau Geste, King Kong, and Double Indemnity. We saw 'Scatter Good Baines,' Edward G. Robinson, Randolph Scott, Ray Milland, Fred McMurray, George Raft, Humphrey Bogart, and James Cagney regularly. They were in mysteries, westerns, gangster movies, light comedies, or drama [1930s and 1940s.] 'Top of the World, Ma!' The movies were black and white (not that we could have seen them in color anyway,) and were all pre-1950s. After all, that was the 1950s! Nothing current was shown on television then.

Mom was usually reading a book [often a Perry Mason novel] and Dad was reading the print off the Sunday News, Sunday Mirror, and Journal-American. The aroma of dinner still lingered throughout the house. Peace reigned. I was still delaying my home work, but my un-aching back was stable on the floor while I exercised my eyes on the FADA.

Come to think of it, by reading several newspapers completely, Dad was probably quite well informed about the activities of the day that had reached newsprint. It's just that he didn't talk much about them with us. If he did with Mom, he did it in private. I still read the Sunday News, especially the Justice Story, partially in his honor. For some reason or another, I rarely spoke with either parent about the news of the day. But I do remember walking into the dining room and seeing the Daily News on the table with the blaring headline about the execution of the Rosenbergs. But even then, there was no family discussion. I didn't fully understand anything about them, but I was still in the phase where all government, media, and businesses were the last word about everything.

One of my favorite newspaper inserts was the recent complete NY Daily News from 1963. The features, comics, and ads brought back many memories. I do miss the Sunday Mirror and the Sunday Journal American. They had good comics and a different slant on sports, but the Unions put them out of business years ago.

Junior Frolics and Associates Part 4 of 25,418

Winky Dink winked at us and often asked for our interactive help. Interested kids would put a static-sensitive Mylar (or something like it) screen on the picture tube and draw something to help Winky out of his dilemma. Winky supplied the TV background for the youthful art. Did you know that Mae Quaestal did Winky's voice? She also provided the voice for Betty Boop and acted as the old Aunt in 'National Lampoon's Vacation'---though I'm sure it wasn't Mae sitting on the roof of Chevy Chase's station wagon. Miss Francis (Horwich) brightened our mornings with Ding Dong School. She had a friendly, calm, and gentle voice like that of Fred Rogers in the later Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood, but I liked her better. [Different times, I guess.] Captain Kangaroo came along about the same time with Mr. Green Jeans. Bob Keeshan, of early Clarabell fame, was the guiding 'officer' in that show. I didn't watch it all that much, though. For some reason, I just couldn't get with it. Besides, it was usually on against 'Andy's Gang' on Saturday morning or I was in school or I was swimming at Davidge Park.

'Rootie Kazootie' was 'the boy who is filled with zip and joy' who graced the screen with just that kind of excitement. Who could forget Romper Room and Mr. Do-Bee. Or Paul Tripp's Mr. I. Magination, which aired from 1949-1952. He was one of the few children's show hosts who had an on-camera wife, Mrs. I. Magination. Surprisingly, I can still picture him in his miniature train 'choo-chooing' through a tunnel. 'Kukla, Fran and Ollie' with Fran Allison, announcer Hugh Downs and the puppets of Burr Tillstrom was another human-puppet interaction. 'Good morning Madam Ophelia Oglepuss! I am Mr. Oliver J. Dragon.' Very pleasant to be sure, but Fran was still the important draw of the show, even to us little kids. 'Captain Video and His Video Rangers' starred Al Hodge when I saw it. I know it introduced me to ray guns and was the probable source of my paper space station---I remember building it one evening after it arrived in the mail. A corner table was confiscated to show the little city, though it probably wasn't as vast as I remember it. I don't remember it after that day. The Captain was also shown as a section of the later 'Wonderama' on Sundays, space, westerns and all.

Speaking of Sundays, I still remember the Jon Gnagy 'You Can Draw' art show from New York City. His beard and gentle voice led us through our weekly art exercises, though I couldn't draw anything before, during, or after the show---except in my imagination. Note how many times I say someone had a 'gentle voice?' Well, it was true. People spoke instead of yelling---though of course Lucy and the game shows could get quite boisterous. These days, the decibel level in a sitcom is pretty high, especially when the stars are throwing out their inane one-liners. I think today's canned laughter---or magnified 'live audience' sound---is much louder.

'Captain Midnight' and his friend Ichabod Mudd---“…that's Mudd with two 'ds'...'---was a different source of imaginative energy. Trouble was, I could never get too excited over an earth-bound TV show having airplanes as the important mode of transportation for the hero. Space ships, yes. Airplanes no. At least Batman only used his part-time.

Some of us were members of the 'Mickey Mouse Club,' tuning in every day to see pretty Annette. I could always sing that silly theme song as long as Annette was on the screen. We were happily hooked into watching the cartoons, historical vignettes, mini-westerns, serials, etc. We enjoyed 'The Little Rascals' or 'Our Gang,' depending on the ages of the kids playing the parts and when the films were made. Spanky, Alfalfa, Darla, Butch, Stimey, Buckwheat, 'Pete' the dog [a pit bull!] and the gang presented penny variety shows in a basement or yard and established the 'he-man woman-haters club.' Their abilities at slapstick and Rube Goldberg type construction was a howl. 'Howdy Doody,' Buffalo Bob, Phineas T Bluster, Clarabell (originally played by Bob Keeshan,) the Peanut Gallery, Chief Thunderthud. Princess Summer-Fall-Winter-Spring. 'Cowabonga, Buffalo Bob!' I looked forward to that show every day, though I never made it to the actual Peanut Gallery.

Jimmie Nelson's 'Studio 99-1/2' ran for several years with Jimmie, a ventriloquist, and his wooden partners Danny O'Day, Farfel, Humphrey Highsby, and Fatattteta. Jimmy and Danny spent many hours in later years making Nestlé Chocolate commercials. They were amusing, but I don't think we ever bought the product.

Naturally, you might wonder how many hours of cartoons I watched as a kid. Well……….plenty! And I turned out alright! Blupblupblupblup! I started with Farmer Gray on local Channel 13's 'Junior Frolics.' He and his zany farmyard animals [mostly the mice] were televised every day. Poor Farmer Gray was subjected to all sorts of horrible indignities above ground and in the sewers. I've heard of other kids having nightmares from those cartoons, but I never did. And, I never became a farmer, either. I don't like sewers.

We saw Walter Lantz creations Woody Woodpecker, Chilly Willy, and Andy Panda, though they never became particularly popular. I liked Woody to some extent, but he always got too crazy too quickly. Our days were also filled with the brave Crusader Rabbit, Casper the Friendly Ghost, and Popeye ['…I'm strong to the finish, 'Cause I eats me spinach…') with Olive Oyl and Bluto, Blimpy, and Swee' Pea. And, of course, so many of the one-time cartoon characters and situations---culminating in the sensational production of 'Molly Moo Cow and Robinson Crusoe.'

Betty Boop was a more adult oriented cartoon, but the few episodes I saw were good. I must have missed the double meanings and innuendos. She had her companion dog, Bimbo, and always wore strapless dresses. “…boop boop de boop…” Is this where the term “bimbo” came from? I understand that Betty originally was a dog, and Bimbo was her boyfriend. Ultimately, Betty morphed into a sexy flapper, and Bimbo remained a dog, but was no longer her lover---horrors!!!. Imagine that. Cute, sexy Betty Boop was a dog at one time. In the 1960s, I occasionally watched 'Rocky and Bullwinkle.' As a cult following has discovered, it was often hilarious and most interesting to watch.

One of my other favorites was the 'Out of the Inkwell' series from the Fleischers [whom I thought wrote boxing articles on the side.] I think I saw it on Wonderama on Sundays. Max would be at his drawing board, and Ko-Ko the clown would jump out of his ink bottle, or become alive after a drawing. The little cartoon character would act on the stage of reality, though Max, himself, rarely appeared with more than his hands and arms. All in all it was a fascinating combination of cartoon and reality that wasn't bettered until 'Who Framed Roger Rabbit?' appeared in the 1980s.

Terrytoons' Mighty Mouse was the first cartoon to appear on Saturday morning TV, and by 1956 he had the 'Mighty Mouse Playhouse'---where he often saved innocent mice from the likes of Shanghai Pete. The cackling Toons' Heckle and Jeckle were enough to drive any kid up a wall. I watched them---I watched most characters at one time or another---but they weren't among my favorites. Merrie Melodies and Looney Tunes brought us Bugs Bunny “…eh…what's up doc?..,” Elmer Fudd, Porky Pig, and Daffy Duck. I still count Bugs as my favorite cartoon character.

I noticed that many cartoon stars, with the notable exceptions of Bugs Bunny, Elmer Fudd, and Daffy Duck, had regular lady friends: Mickey and Minnie, Popeye and Olive Oyl, Donald and Daisy, Porky and Petunia, and so on. The others were apparently confirmed bachelors who were only seen occasionally with a lady. Was singleness germane to the plots of their cartoons? Or were the characters just too zany to keep a relationship going?

We occasionally saw the longer Disney animated features: 'The Three Caballeros' [1945,] 'Dumbo' (1941,) and 'Saludos Amigos' (1943) with Joe Carioca. Don't be thrown by the early dates. We saw these in black and white on the 'Wonderful World of Disney' in the 1950s. Disney was first on ABC and then on NBC---at least on New York TV it was. The first love-interest cartoon I remember was Disney's 'Lady and the Tramp.' It didn't take very long for that movie to show up on the 'World of Disney.'

And who can forget 'Gerald McBoing-Boing' (from 1951?) and 'Mister Magoo' (from 1951?) I'd like to. I never enjoyed watching them. They had annoying tendencies, even obvious to me as a kid. Gerald's bouncing around and Mr. Magoo's problem sight got to me very quickly. And their commercials had zero buying-effect on me.

I watched Laurel and Hardy in the 'March of the Wooden Soldiers' every year. Local channel 11, WPIX, showed it at 11 am every Thanksgiving Day. I could almost sing along with Felix Knight [Tom-Tom] ['Go to Sleep', 'Castle in Spain', etc,] having seen it so many times. The 'Bogeymen' didn't really frighten me, but they were quite funny in their antics and obvious costumes. To me, that was the beginning of the Christmas season. Watching a fun movie with the aroma of roasting turkey in the air, thoughts of pumpkin and mince pie [one of each, please], dark, juicy fruitcake [for afternoon tea], no particular worries---ah, indeed those were the days! I may have missed some of the Saturday afternoon showings of Laurel and Hardy on the same channel, but I never missed the Thanksgiving show. And I had no competition. Mom and Mary Anne were in the kitchen, Dad was busy reading the print off the NY Daily News, and Ed and Jack were at the local high school football game.

I looked forward each week to Smilin' Ed McConnell and his Buster Brown Gang [and Froggy]---after Ed's death, it was known as Andy's Gang with Andy Devine, a happy and jovial storyteller who was best remembered by me as a sidekick in western and comic relief in many movies ['Stagecoach,' 'Buck Benny Rides Again,' and often as 'Cookie Bullfincher'.] Buster Brown and '…I got shoes…you got shoes…' made for jaunty commercials. Silly Froggy's smoke-puff appearances ['…plunk your magic twanger, Froggy…'] would have made him a star with the recent “Gremlins.” His unrelenting efforts to sass Ed or pull a tricks on him and his guests were good accompaniment to Nino Marcel's Gunga Ram on the story screen. Sorry Nino, but for years I thought the little Indian boy you played on screen was really played by Sabu. A usual visitor, Pasta Fazooli, was also a butt of Froggy's jokes and was played by Vito Scotti, among my favorite character actors of all time. That show might have been the source of my brother Jack's ersatz Italian. Actually, Fazool---as in Pasta Fazool---is not Italian, though Jack still claims it to be. It's a made-up word based on 'pasta' and the real Italian word “fagioli,” which means “bean,” but it remains as one of Jack's two acknowledged “Italian” words in his vocabulary.

Stu Irwin's 'Trouble With Father' with June Collier and Willy Best was one of the early sitcoms with the bumbling father persona. Willy was the constantly confused yard worker for the family. Stu was always in some sort of difficulty, often to the extent that one would wonder how he could hold a job and pay his mortgage. Some of his reactions are classic, as are those in 'The Real McCoys,' with Richard Crenna and Walter Brennan---another family sitcom with some silly plots. Walter Brennan, as the stubborn Grandpa, limped his way through numerous embarrassing moments. Once I had his persona in mind, all the earlier movies I saw with him seemed odd, since all I could see was Grandpa---although many of his characterizations were similar.

Ozzie and Harriet, with sons David and Ricky, and Don DeFore as neighbor 'Thorny' Thornberry, was always interesting, except no one seemed to know how Ozzie earned a living. Son, Ricky, went on to a popular singing career, and he often sang on the show. 'Zoo Parade's' animals with Marlin Perkins broke Sunday afternoon's movie bombardment with a fascinating look into the animal world. I remember watching it many a Sunday afternoon while my parents and their siblings, the Bill Stevens' [two married siblings] played Canasta, then Samba and Bolivia, and all those related card games. The sessions often lasted all day. We didn't especially mind. Ed and Jack and Billy were off somewhere, and me, Mary Anne, and Virginia ate and played games all day. I also attacked cousin Billy's vast comic collection for a while. It was these times at the Stevens home that we had a pile of great food to eat all day: macaroni and meatballs; salad; pizza frite [fried dough], which I liked best with only a touch of salt; lots of Italian bread and rolls; Nana's home made cake with pineapple filling, When Aunt Rose made meatballs and sausage, she ran through the butcher's weekly supply in no time. And I helped deplete the numbers. The Ed Sullivan Show was the variety show to watch on Sunday nights. And it wasn't just to say Bye Bye to Birdie, either. Ed paraded just about everybody in front of the camera, most notably Popo GIGO, Elvis, the Beatles, Maria Calas, and Richard Tucker, spinning plates on long dowels, and several dog acts.

On Sundays, we read: 'Peanuts,' 'Smitty,' 'Bringing Up Father,' 'Barney Google and Snuffy Smith,' 'L'il Abner' with Daisy Mae, Mammy and Pappy, along with Fearless Fosdick [the 'Dick Tracy' parody], the Schmoos, and Joe Btzplk. Joe was funny. He was bad luck personified. Wherever he went he brought the bad luck with him, and he was constantly under a dark cloud---literally! A dark cloud over only him rained regularly and kept him miserable. Sunday also brought us 'Moon Mullins'; “Moon” was short for Moonshine---I'm not old enough to remember the moonshine of the story but I do remember when Moon won his cab in a contest. He had a brother, Little Kayo---who slept in a bureau drawer---and landlords, Lord and Lady Plushbottom ['Landlady marries boarder and becomes snootier than ever. Film at eleven.'] I followed 'Dondi' from its inception after the Korean War. Old Ed was the neighborhood grouch until Dondi broke his basement window with a baseball and discovered Ed's past in professional baseball. Great things ensued from there.

More fun cartoons of print or screen included: 'Gasoline Alley', with Walt, Phyllis, Skeezix and Nina, was a good, family sitcom in the Sunday cartoon section. Great things can happen to abandoned kids. The strip is still running with the third generation of the family and a couple of dump bums. 'Alley Oop' '…Alley Oop Oop…' with King Guz and Queen Umpo of Moo, and Oop's prehistoric honey, Ooola, was quite different from the norm in that it regularly jumped from prehistoric Moo to the modern age. Oop was active in both worlds, and his popular song became the source for our ditty about one of our teachers whom we had nicknamed Chabby. '...Chabby Oop Oop...' Jack Mills was our song writer, and he sang the lyrics on our bus to school many times. Hi and Lois have kids who never seem to grow up. Those dreams of the future they always have are never going to occur in real cartoon life. 'The Phantom' '…the Ghost who walks…' or '…the Milk Drinker…' guarded both the jungle and modern society. Mighty Mouse liked to sing 'Here I come to save the day! as if he were Caruso. Little Angel; Little Audrey; Woody Woodpecker; Porky Pig; Daffy Duck; Mandrake the Magician; Rick O'Shay; Smoky Stover '…Scram gravy ain't wavy…'; and Winnie Winkle (with Perry Winkle) were always fun characters to read and follow for a growing kid.

'Our Boarding House' with the foibles of Major Amos B. Hoople, his wife, Martha and their impish boarders appeared regularly. The Major spoke little when really steamed (which was often,) and sat fuming in his chair chomping his cigar and trying to re-read his newspaper: […egad…drats…fap…awp…kaff…hrumph.'] Out Our Way starred the Willet Family interacting within the panel's nostalgic vein. 'Little Iodine' was a true imp, even a brat, as she constantly annoyed everybody, especially her poor, nervous father, Henry Tremblechin. Blondie was a more active strip than it is these days with numerous fights between Dagwood and others, especially Herb and Mr. Beazley---and occasionally Mr Dithers. Blondie had no outside job. 'Dick Tracy', starring Dick, Tess Trueheart, Sam Catchum, Junior. B. O. Plenty, Gravel Gertie, and Sparkle was the front-page comic in New York Sunday News
for years. I read it eagerly, though I always preferred the comics in the Sunday Journal-American, reading that comic section first.

I very much liked Jiggs and Maggie in 'Bringing Up Father,' later renamed 'Jiggs and Maggie.' Jiggs won the Irish Sweepstakes and became wealthy. Maggie became snooty and domineering while Jiggs stayed the same and spent as much time as possible drinking beer and eating corned beef and cabbage---and stew with Dinty Moore and friends at the local bar, Dinty Moore's. [Later to became a brand name for a canned stew.] I guess that's appropriate, since Maggie was always in a stew about Jigg's activities.

Our TV fare also included 'Father Knows Best' with Jim and Margaret Anderson and their children, Princess, Kitten, and Bud. They were a sweet family in a sweet town in the middle of a sweet country. Mr. Peepers peeped at us via Wally Cox. And the 'Spin and Marty' serial was often shown on the 'Mickey Mouse Club' Show.

Superman---before the bulky muscles---starred George Reeves. '…faster than a speeding bullet…and who, disguised as mild mannered reporter, Clark Kent….' We enjoyed the humor of Pinky Lee and Soupy Sales (mostly slapstick,) Sam Levinson, and Myron Cohen (the latter two told humorous stories the whole family could listen to.)

On the Western front we also had 'Annie Oakley' with the real life sharp-shooting rider, Gail Davis, and Jimmy Hawkins as her brother, Tagg. We welcomed the 'Cisco Kid' with Duncan Renaldo and Leo Carillo. “…Oh Cisco! Oh Pancho!…” Television's amenable Cisco was a far cry from the desperado of O. Henry's original short story.

End of Part 4 of 46,125 Stay tuned for further adventures.

Yo! Frankenstein Monster!

As we near Halloween [that's H-a-lloween and not H-o-lloween,] I've directed my attention to watching horror movies, as long as the gore is suggested and not shown. It's appropriate for the season, isn't it? Some TV stations are running them throughout the day and evening every day for about a week before the witching night. The other day I saw 'Mary Shelley's Frankenstein' for the first time---I don't go to the movie theaters anymore.

Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley 1797-1851
by Richard Rothwell 1840
National Portrait Gallery

This 1994 movie has been billed as having a plot most akin to the author's original concept. But how did the author [Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, daughter of feminist writer Mary Wollstonecraft and anarchist/atheist journalist and philosopher William Godwin] come up with this strange plot, anyway? She said nothing about it when the book was published in 1818. Then, in October of 1831 [London] she wrote an Introduction to a new edition of the book, and told us.
***

"Introduction [to the 1831 edition of 'Frankenstein, or the Modern Prometheus']

The Publishers of the Standard Novels, in selecting 'Frankenstein' for one of their series, expressed a wish that I should furnish them with some account of the origin of the story. I am the more willing to comply, because I shall thus give a general answer to the question, so very frequently asked me -- 'How I, then a young girl, came to think of, and to dilate upon, so very hideous an idea?' It is true that I am very averse to bringing myself forward in print; but as my account will only appear as an appendage to a former production, and as it will be confined to such topics as have connection with my authorship alone, I can scarcely accuse myself of a personal intrusion.

It is not singular that, as the daughter of two persons of distinguished literary celebrity, I should very early in life have thought of writing. As a child I scribbled; and my favourite pastime, during the hours given me for recreation, was to "write stories." Still I had a dearer pleasure than this, which was the formation of castles in the air -- the indulging in waking dreams -- the following up trains of thought, which had for their subject the formation of a succession of imaginary incidents. My dreams were at once more fantastic and agreeable than my writings. In the latter I was a close imitator -- rather doing as others had done, then putting down the suggestions of my own mind. What I wrote was intended at least for one other eye -- my childhood's companion and friend; but my dreams were all my own; I accounted for them to nobody; they were my refuge when annoyed -- my dearest pleasure when free.

I lived principally in the country as a girl, and passed a considerable time in Scotland. I made occasional visits to the more picturesque parts; but my habitual residence was on the blank and dreary northern shores of the Tay, near Dundee. Blank and dreary on retrospection I call them; they were not so to me then. They were the eyry of freedom, and the pleasant region where unheeded I could commune with the creatures of my fancy. I wrote then -- but in a most common-place style. It was beneath the trees of the grounds belonging to our house, on the bleak sides of the woodless mountains near, that my true compositions, the airy flights of my imagination, were born and fostered. I did not make myself the heroine of my tales. Life appeared to me too common-place an affair as regarded myself. I could not figure to myself that romantic woes or wonderful events would ever be my lot; but I was not confined to my own identity, and I could people the hours with creations far more interesting to me at that age, than my own sensations.

After this my life became busier, and reality stood in place of fiction. My husband, however, was from the first, very anxious that I should prove myself worthy of my parentage, and enrol myself on the page of fame. He was for ever inciting me to obtain literary reputation, which even on my own part I cared for then, though since I have become infinitely indifferent to it. At this time he desired that I should write, not so much with the idea that I could produce any thing worthy of notice, but that he might himself judge how far I possessed the promise of better things hereafter. Still I did nothing. Travelling, and the cares of a family, occupied my time; and study, in the way of reading, or improving my ideas in communication with his far more cultivated mind, was all of literary employment that engaged my attention.

In the summer of 1816, we visited Switzerland, and became the neighbours of Lord Byron. At first we spent our pleasant hours on the lake, or wandering on its shores; and Lord Byron, who was writing the third canto of Childe Harold, was the only one among us who put his thoughts upon paper. These, as he brought them successively to us, clothed in all the light and harmony of poetry, seemed to stamp as divine the glories of heaven and earth, whose influences we partook with him.

But it proved a wet, ungenial summer, and incessant rain often confined us for days to the house. Some volumes of ghost stories, translated from the German into French, fell into our hands. There was the History of the Inconstant Lover, who, when he thought to clasp the bride to whom he had pledged his vows, found himself in the arms of the pale ghost of her whom he had deserted. There was the tale of the sinful founder of his race, whose miserable doom it was to bestow the kiss of death on all the younger sons of his fated house, just when they reached the age of promise. His gigantic, shadowy form, clothed like the ghost in Hamlet, in complete armour, but with the beaver up, was seen at midnight, by the moon's fitful beams, to advance slowly along the gloomy avenue. The shape was lost beneath the shadow of the castle walls; but soon a gate swung back, a step was heard, the door of the chamber opened, and he advanced to the couch of the blooming youths, cradled in healthy sleep. Eternal sorrow sat upon his face as he bent down and kissed the forehead of the boys, who from that hour withered like flowers snapt upon the stalk. I have not seen these stories since then; but their incidents are as fresh in my mind as if I had read them yesterday.

'We will each write a ghost story,' said Lord Byron; and his proposition was acceded to. There were four of us. The noble author began a tale, a fragment of which he printed at the end of his poem of Mazeppa. Shelley, more apt to embody ideas and sentiments in the radiance of brilliant imagery, and in the music of the most melodious verse that adorns our language, than to invent the machinery of a story, commenced one founded on the experiences of his early life. Poor Polidori [their doctor] had some terrible idea about a skull-headed lady, who was so punished for peeping through a key-hole -- to see what I forget -- something very shocking and wrong of course; but when she was reduced to a worse condition than the renowned Tom of Coventry, he did not know what to do with her, and was obliged to despatch her to the tomb of the Capulets, the only place for which she was fitted. The illustrious poets also, annoyed the platitude of prose, speedily relinquished their uncongenial task.

I busied myself to think of a story, -- a story to rival those which had excited us to this task. One which would speak to the mysterious fears of our nature, and awaken thrilling horror -- one to make the reader dread to look round, to curdle the blood, and quicken the beatings of the heart. If I did not accomplish these things, my ghost story would be unworthy of its name. I thought and pondered -- vainly. I felt that blank incapability of invention which is the greatest misery of authorship, when dull Nothing replies to our anxious invocations. Have you thought of a story? I was asked each morning, and each morning I was forced to reply with a mortifying negative.

Every thing must have a beginning, to speak in Sanchean phrase; and that beginning must be linked to something that went before. The Hindoos give the world an elephant to support it, but they make the elephant stand upon a tortoise. Invention, it must be humbly admitted, does not consist in creating out of the void, but out of chaos; the materials must, in the first place, be afforded: it can give form to dark, shapeless substances, but cannot bring into being the substance itself. In all matters of discovery and invention, even of those that appertain to the imagination, we are continually reminded of the story of Columbus and his egg. Invention consists in the capacity of seizing on the capabilities of a subject, and in the power of moulding and fashioning ideas suggested to it.

Many and long were the conversations between Lord Byron and Shelley, to which I was a devout but nearly silent listener. During one of these, various philosophical doctrines were discussed, and among others the nature of the principle of life, and whether there was any probability of its ever being discovered and communicated. They talked of the experiments of Dr. Darwin,(I speak not of what the Doctor really did, or said that he did, but, as more to my purpose, of what was then spoken of as having been done by him,) who preserved a piece of vermicelli in a glass case, till by some extraordinary means it began to move with voluntary motion. Not thus, after all, would life be given. Perhaps a corpse would be re-animated; galvanism had given token of such things: perhaps the component parts of a creature might be manufactured, brought together, and endured with vital warmth.

Lake Sils, Upper Engadine, Switzerland

Night waned upon this talk, and even the witching hour had gone by, before we retired to rest. When I place my head on my pillow, I did not sleep, nor could I be said to think. My imagination, unbidden, possessed and guided me, gifting the successive images that arose in my mind with a vividness far beyond the usual bounds of reverie. I saw -- with shut eyes, but acute mental vision, -- I saw the pale student of unhallowed arts kneeling beside the thing he had put together. I saw the hideous phantasm of a man stretched out, and then, on the working of some powerful engine, show signs of life, and stir with an uneasy, half vital motion. Frightful must it be; for supremely frightful would be the effect of any human endeavour to mock the stupendous mechanism of the Creator of the world. His success would terrify the artist; he would rush away from his odious handywork, horror-stricken. He would hope that, left to itself, the slight spark of life which he had communicated would fade; that this thing, which had received such imperfect animation, would subside into dead matter; and he might sleep in the belief that the silence of the grave would quench for ever the transient existence of the hideous corpse which he had looked upon as the cradle of life. He sleeps; but he is awakened; he opens his eyes; behold the horrid thing stands at his bedside, opening his curtains, and looking on him with yellow, watery, but speculative eyes.

I opened mine in terror. The idea so possessed my mind, that a thrill of fear ran through me, and I wished to exchange the ghastly image of my fancy for the realities around. I see them still; the very room, the dark parquet, the closed shutters, with the moonlight struggling through, and the sense I had that the glassy lake and white high Alps were beyond. I could not so easily get rid of my hideous phantom; still it haunted me. I must try to think of something else. I recurred to my ghost story, -- my tiresome unlucky ghost story! O! if I could only contrive one which would frighten my reader as I myself had been frightened that night!

Swift as light and as cheering was the idea that broke in upon me.

I have found it! What terrified me will terrify others; and I need only describe the spectre which had haunted my midnight pillow.

On the morrow I announced that I had thought of a story. I began that day with the words, It was on a dreary night of November, making only a transcript of the grim terrors of my waking dream.

At first I thought but of a few pages -- of a short tale; but Shelley urged me to develop the idea at greater length. I certainly did not owe the suggestion of one incident, nor scarcely one train of feeling, to my husband, and yet but for his incitement, it would never have taken the form in which it was presented to the world. From this declaration I must except the preface. As far as I can recollect, it was entirely written by him.

And now, once again, I bid my hideous progeny go forth and prosper. I have an affection for it, for it was the offspring of happy days, when death and grief were but words, which found no true echo in my heart. Its several pages speak of many a walk, many a drive, and many a conversation, when I was not alone; and my companion was one who, in this world, I shall never see more. But this is for myself; my readers have nothing to do with these associations..."
***

Just as an added thought: Mary Shelley's 'Frankenstein, or the Modern Prometheus' was first published [in three volumes] in London, 1818. A fine copy of those volumes sold earlier this year at an auction for just short of $66,000. I have an old, one volume, Modern Library edition in my modest collection. Worth a few bucks, I think---but it does have the above Introduction.