Found on EBay — Batchelder Tile

Batchelder_mayan_ebay

A set of six Batchelder Mayan tiles has been listed on EBay. For whatever reason, I seem to see more of the Mayan pattern on EBay than anything else. Bidding starts at $9.99.
Posted in Architecture, art and artists, Real Estate | Comments Off on Found on EBay — Batchelder Tile

Matt Weinstock — March 19, 1959




Diamond Discount?

Matt_weinstockdA businessman who last year brought four season tickets for the
Dodger games decided not to repeat and has ignored several reminder
letters.

The other day he received a phone call from the
Dodger ticket office. Was he going to renew? No. Why? Because of the
price. "What about a discount? he asked bluntly.

The ticket tycoon was horrified. In all his years in baseball, he said, he’d never heard of such a thing.

"Well,
think about it," was the response. "In my business if a man gave me an
order for $1,500 in March, paid in advance, and didn’t get delivery of
all the goods until August or September I’d certainly give him a
discount!"

LIFE CAN BE
real weird. A man I know drove
his wife and another couple home from Las Vegas and briefly went over
100 m.p.h. The remarkable thing, it occurred to him, was that no one in
the gay group was particularly concerned.

1959_0319_poitierThe next day he was
halted by a gendarme on Riverside Drive and given a valentine for going
too slowly — holding up traffic, the officer said.

* *

THE PLUMBING
in Hank Howe’s bathroom became stopped up and after an hour’s cussing
and sweating over a "plumber’s friend" and coiled "snake" he removed
the cause — a Popsicle stick.

He shouted for his son Danny, 3, and demanded angrily, "Do you know anything about this?"

"Not me, Pop," Danny replied innocently. "I haven’t been in here for about two months."

* *


SISSY STUFF
Chemical warfare is no threat
To those in our community
With all the smog we’ve had for years
We’ve built up an immunity
— JEFFREY RIMMER

* *

1959_0319_herblock
THE MAD JARGON
of the electronics robots apparently is endless.

A
man testing a new computer was asked to make up his own specifications
and feed them to the machine. He hastily compiled some data for a
modernistic ash tray and, reports Missiles and Rockets magazine,
inserted it. The computer digested his information in seconds and
responded with the terse teletype reply, "Geometrically impossibl."

Disconcerted, the man retorted, "At least I can spell ‘impossible.’ "

* *

A LEAFLET
announcing a meeting at an East Side school at which a controversial
bill in the Legislature would be discussed had the entrancing malaprop,
"Learn about the factors involved in this political bug-of-war."

Bugaboo, bugbear, tug of war — what’s the difference?

* *

1959_0319_abby
DO DOGS DIG
television?
Yes, says Lorraine D’Essen of New York, who trains them and other
animals for stage and TV. She’s here with her greyhound Steverino, once
Steve Allen’s mascot, which appeared on the Jack Benny show last night.

She always lets her other 9 or 10 dogs watch when one of them
is on TV and swears that when the thespian of the moment returns home,
he or she says, in dog language, "Well, did you see me?" And the
others, always ganged up at the door, wag their tails and say, "You
were great, kid."

* *

MISCELLANY — On
reaching the corner, the motorman of a P car on which Johnny O’Toole
was riding called out, "First and Los Angeles! Parker’s Hilton!"
Another one, I’m told, sings out "Pitchess’ Prison one block north!" as
his car arrives at 1st and Broadway . . . Recommended listening:
Pianist Freddie Gambrell playing "Stompin’ at the Savoy" on his new
album . . . Flash! A group of Hollywood beatniks have discovered a
restaurant where the coffee is 8 cents a mug and tastes better . . .
Ben Irwin muses, "No matter what you think about the Duncan case one
thing is certain — the butler didn’t do it."  

Posted in Columnists, Matt Weinstock | Comments Off on Matt Weinstock — March 19, 1959

Paul Coates — Confidential File, March 19, 1959




CONFIDENTIAL FILE

Missing Bagpipes Recall Spirit of ’75

Paul_coatesThe Berlin crisis notwithstanding, I’ve got a little international incident all my own with the British Empire.

Specifically,
it involves that portion of Her Majesty’s acreage north of the playing
field of Eaton and known, a shade too lyrically, as "Bonnie Scotland."

As
a small boy I was brainwashed by a strongly nationalistic grandmother
who kept up a constant barrage of propaganda that that the Scots were a
race apart, and a cut above all other people.

She pointedly
neglected to tell me that in our own immediate line of Scottish descent
were three good-sized alcoholics, a great-uncle Alec who was considered
a bit nutty by all his neighbors, and a cousin who deserted his wife to
run amok with a barmaid from a Glasgow pub.

1959_0319_red_streak
Instead, she would
rock me on her knee, and tell me over and over again the heroic, noble
exploits of Robert the Bruce, who restored Scottish independence,
Bonnie Prince Charlie, who fearlessly raised his father’s standard at Glenfinnan, and Mary, Queen of Scots, who was so noble she didn’t even blink an eye when they cut her head off. 

After
grandma’s thorough indoctrination, I developed a sense of heritage out
of all proportion to the facts. And, of course, when I finally visited
Scotland last fall, I bought a set of bagpipes.

I ordered them
from a quaint, musty little shop in Edinburgh and paid cash after being
assured in a rich burr that they would be in Los Angeles within two
months.

Then I continued my trip through Europe, ordering
little knickknacks all along the way, Even a camel seat from a
shifty-eyed Moroccan Arab whom I felt sure was in the slave trade on
the side. Everything I ordered and paid for arrived. Everything —
except my bagpipes.

The other day I casually mentioned this at cocktails to Mr. James MacLeod, information officer of the Los Angeles British Consulate.

1959_0319_duncan"Umm,"
he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "A bit embarrassing, I wonder
if we shouldn’t send through a communication. On an official level,
that is."

"It isn’t necessary," I lied. "Not much money was involved."

"Hardly a question of money, old man," he said briskly. "It’s a matter of . . . "

"Principle?" I suggested.

"Precisely," he replied.

He made a few notes. And, the next morning, he "rang me up," as we say.

"MacLeod,
here," he announced. "Have had a chat with the chaps at the consulate.
They’re quite disturbed about this ugly business. Feel as I do — that
we should handle it through proper channels."

I didn’t quite
have the courage to ask him what "proper channels" would mean. But I
can only imagine that a diplomatic pouch has already gone forth with a
top-priority stamp to Her Majesty’s Principal Secretary of State for
Foreign Affairs, Mr.Selwyn Lloyd. 

They Really Mean It

1959_0319_duncan_02"Sir,"
it probably reads, "I have the honor to bring to your attention an
apparently distressing departure from the highest standards of probity
on the part of our bagpipe industry.

"An American journalist,
Mr. Paul Coates, claims to have purchased a set of bagpipes in
Edinburgh six months ago, and has not yet received delivery. He is
making a rather nasty issue of this and has intimated that, if delivery
is not effected forthwith, he has the influence to make this a matter
of public knowledge.

"I realize, sir, this might appear to be
a matter of minor import. However, I am sure that any such charge which
reflects on the integrity of the Empire deserves immediate
consideration at the uppermost level."

You hear that, dad?
"Uppermost level." You know what that means? Macmillan! Actually, I
hate to start a fuss. But we have to stand up for our rights. If we
don’t, they’ll have us right back where they did in 1775.  

Posted in Columnists, Paul Coates | 1 Comment

In the Theaters — March 19, 1949




1949_0319_movie_ads

Posted in Film, Hollywood | Comments Off on In the Theaters — March 19, 1949

Trouble Was His Business — Raymond Chandler


Oct. 22, 1961: Although this pictorial feature wasn’t specifically about Raymond Chandler, it uses a quote of his to describe Bunker Hill, which was vanishing.

"In the tall rooms, haggard landladies bicker with shifty tenants. On
the wide, cool front porches, reaching their cracked shoes into the sun
at staring at nothing, with the old men with faces like lost battles."

 

–"The High Window," 1941
1961_1022_bunker_hill_01

1961_1022_bunker_hill_02
1961_1022_bunker_hill_03
 

1961_1022_bunker_hill_04
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Jury Weighs Cleaver Killing; Renting the Coliseum, March 19, 1949

1949_0319_murder_trial

Walter Miller slashes his wrists, stabs himself and smashes his head into
the backyard incinerator — and lives.

1949_0319_shostakovich

The Times asks Andre Kostelanetz: Should Dmitri Shostakovich be allowed to visit the U.S.? Stravinsky says "No!"
Above, the sordid murder case of Betty Ferreri and Vincent Charles Fauci, who are accused of killing her husband, Jerome. Although they lived in what The Times called a "fashionable Wilshire district mansion," 310 S. Lucerne, she worked as a carhop. They were acquitted.

Bad news for Virginia McElhiney: She won’t get the life insurance on late her husband, Everett, whom she poisoned with arsenic. The money will go to her former mother-in-law, Eva, a court rules.

At left, a baffling suicide of a young UCLA student.

1949_0319_comics

"Moon Mullins," "Abbie An’ Slats," "Ella Cinders" and "Li’l Abner."
1949_0319_classified

Classified ads are (or were) built backward, starting with the last page so the first page sometimes had leftover space for editorial content, like this, above. We took one column for stories and put a "house ad" in the second column.

1949_0319_sports
Los Angeles’ two pro football teams asked the Coliseum Commission to reduce their rent.

The Rams and Dons paid 15% of their gross receipts while USC and
UCLA paid 10%, The Times’ Braven Dyer reported. The Dons, of the All
American Football Conference, played in the Coliseum from 1946-49.

"As every football fan well knows, the Rams and Dons have been
having their troubles making both ends meet," Dyer wrote. "Maybe
they’re finally going to get a break. Every little bit helps, you know,
when you’ve been on the losing end for so long."

USC paid the most of the four teams, nearly $86,000. The Dons paid a
little more than $67,000 and the Rams paid nearly $67,000. UCLA paid
almost $52,000.

–Keith Thursby

Posted in #courts, Comics, Homicide, Sports, Suicide | Comments Off on Jury Weighs Cleaver Killing; Renting the Coliseum, March 19, 1949

Coming Attractions — Charles Mingus

https://i0.wp.com/www.zocalopublicsquare.org/admin/images/events/mingus.JPG

On April 28, Zocalo and the city’s Department of Cultural Affaris will host a panel on Charles Mingus. The forum will be held at 7:30 p.m. at Barnsdall Gallery Theatre. Make reservations here >>>
Posted in #Jazz, Coming Attractions, Music | Comments Off on Coming Attractions — Charles Mingus

Voices — Natasha Richardson, 1963 – 2009




Note: The Daily Mirror went into the archives for this 1993 interview with Natasha Richardson, who was badly injured in a skiing accident.   
Update: Richardson has died in New York.

Must Be Something in the Genes

Natasha Richardson–a specialist in off-center American roles–upholds the Redgrave family name in her rapturous Broadway debut

January 24, 1993

By PETER MARKS, Peter Marks is a staff writer for Newsday

NEW
YORK — Natasha Richardson is not, she insists, hiding behind her
sunglasses. A case of conjunctivitis in her left eye, exacerbated by
all the crying she is called on to do through the four acts of "Anna
Christie," has driven her to this cliche of stardom, for which she
expresses deep remorse.

It seems, nonetheless, a perfectly
fitting disguise, for Richardson, sitting smartly in the bar of the
Algonquin Hotel in a smashing black miniskirt, sipping Perrier as her
thick brown hair brushes her neck, could easily pass for a jaded
glamourpuss. She certainly has the pedigree for it: star of artsy
movies and highbrow television; offspring of one of the world’s most
famous theatrical clans; wife of a prominent British theater producer,
Robert Fox, himself the member of a celebrated acting family.

But
there is no churlishness or egomania flashing on the corner couch by
the doors to the Oak Room. There are only good manners and the
appearance of humility. When Richardson is told what people are saying
about her performance in the title role of the classic Eugene O’Neill
play, she glances at her publicist from behind tinted frames, scrunches
her shoulders and affects a look of pleasure mixed with terror.

"It’s
anxiety-producing, but it’s so thrilling to me," she says of her
Broadway debut. "Now that I’m based here in New York and working in
this city that I love, it just gives me a big kick. To be working on
Broadway, it’s–I know it’s boring to say it, but it’s an incredible
experience."

The experience has been all the more gratifying
because of the reception the play is getting, a production that had its
origin in the imagination of Richardson herself. The Roundabout Theater
production, co-starring Liam Neeson and Rip Torn, opened this month to
glowing notices for the direction, the ensemble–even the set–and
especially for the 29-year-old Richardson, who, teamed with Neeson, was
hailed as a revelation.

Newsday described her performance as the
tough-but-vulnerable Anna as "complicated and captivating," while the
New York Times said the actress is giving "what may prove to be the
performance of the season." The play has been extended at the Criterion
Center through Feb. 28.

"Anna Christie"–the story of a
tormented young woman who, after a lost childhood in the upper Midwest,
arrives in New York City for a reunion with her Swedish father (Torn)
and a liaison with a strapping Irish sailor (Neeson)–is not one of
O’Neill’s most oft-performed works. It is both slighter and lighter
than most of O’Neill, best known for darker plays like "Long Day’s
Journey Into Night." Richardson, however, knew it well, having played
Anna two years ago in a well-received production at London’s Young Vic.
From virtually the day the run ended, she had been trying to remount
the play, with a new cast, in New York.

Richardson had been
negotiating with various nonprofit theater companies to stage the play
when, about a year ago, Todd Haimes, Roundabout’s producing director,
expressed an interest. "He said, ‘I want to do it with you.’ That was
just fantastic," she says. "I will forever be in his debt."

Neeson,
who recently appeared in Woody Allen’s "Husbands and Wives," had been
Richardson’s first choice to play Mat Burke, the lug who steals Anna’s
heart. "I think O’Neill wrote that part for Liam Neeson," she says.

"I
read the play three years ago. I just couldn’t put it down," Richardson
adds in her soft London accent. "I fell in love with Anna. Few parts
are written for actresses with this sort of range. And it seems to be
speaking to audiences here in a way that it didn’t in London two years
ago. I don’t know if it’s because the girl is from such a dysfunctional
background–it has the ring of truth to it. I just feel for her–her
anger and her loneliness and her pain.

"You see Annas every day
on the streets of New York, with nothing, and just desperately trying
to survive, with everything she owns in two suitcases. And still, she
makes the decision in the play to tell the truth. I admire her courage."

It
is the sort of quirky, complex role Richardson is turning into a
specialty. Lately, in fact, she has made a career of playing fragile,
off-center American women. Earlier this month, she starred with Maggie
Smith in a highly acclaimed PBS production of Tennessee Williams’
"Suddenly Last Summer"–yet another neglected minor classic–as
Catharine Holly, the wild-eyed deb with the horrible secret (and the
fabulous 15-minute soliloquy). Before that came other women on the
edge–the kidnaped heiress in the film "Patty Hearst"; the rebellious
handmaid in "The Handmaid’s Tale."

Aside from a knack for
regional American accents–she talks fluent Minnesota for "Anna" and
New Orleans for "Suddenly"–Richardson’s affinity for a culture other
than her own appears to perpetuate a family pattern. While her
parentage is resolutely English, neither of her parents fit in well in
English society. Her father, the late film director Tony Richardson,
always hated England, she says, living for years in self-imposed exile
in Los Angeles until his death from AIDS-related causes last year. Her
mother, actress Vanessa Redgrave, has an even more complex relationship
with the mother country, having spent most of her life in political
fringe groups at war with the Establishment.

For the daughter of
one of the greatest stage actresses of her generation, classical roles
would be almost a birthright. (Natasha’s sister, Joely, has also
followed her mother into the family business.) But though Richardson
trained at the prestigious Central School of Speech and Drama in
London, she says that she did not do a lot of Moliere or Shakespeare as
a student, and that she has no burning desire to perform a definitive
Medea. "I don’t have 10 roles in the classical repertoire I want to
play," she says.

It may have been an act of rebellion. At one
time, in fact, Richardson bristled at the inevitable comparisons to her
mother. Physically, she is a more delicate version of Redgrave, the
powerful, angular features softened and refined, but with the same
graceful neck and piercing eyes. Artistically, she has been
successfully carving out her own identity, which seems to have given
her more self-assurance. She expresses regret now at not having worked
with her father but appears open to working with her mother, given the
right opportunity.

"To be honest, I’ve shied away from working
with my family. You’re so sensitive to the charge of nepotism." Eight
years ago, she says, she had her first and only experience in working
with Redgrave. Richardson was playing Nina in a production of "The
Seagull" in England, when her mother replaced Samantha Eggar in the
role of Madame Arkadina.

Having a legend for a mother is one
thing, but facing her onstage night after night is quite another. It
was "scary," she recalls. "The first day, I was suddenly aware that I’m
on the stage with this overwhelming actress. It made me want to run and
hide."

Although she inherited her parents’ love of performance,
Richardson seems not to have absorbed either her father’s loathing of
England or her mother’s political extremism. In person, she has none of
the gritty edginess she projects onstage. But she has assumed the role
of the outsider nonetheless.

"Do I think of myself as English?"
she asks, mulling the question as she flicks the ash off her cigarette.
"I don’t feel very English. I don’t. There are things that I love about
Europe, but I find with American people there is an energy and an
enthusiasm you don’t find in Europe. I respond to that."

Sitting
in the Algonquin stirs old memories for the actress, who fell in love
with New York on her first visit here, with her father, at the age of
14. "The first time I came to New York, I stayed in this hotel with
him," she says, surveying the famously dowdy lobby. "For me, growing
older and spending a lot of time here, the rose-tinted glasses came
off, and I saw all the dirt, the grime. But coming here is still heady
for me. It gives me a lot of energy and hope."

Richardson liked
the city so much that two years ago, she bought an apartment in
Manhattan, with a view of Central Park. Although she says she makes her
home here, it’s not a place where she spends months on end–except
during the run of the play. For her, Manhattan remains not quite real,
a bit of a playground. You know this is the case when she explains that
she does not even mind paying her electric bill.

She feels in
sync with the city, and now that her play is a hit on Broadway, she
believes that she has conquered another hurdle. What comes next is not
clear. "I am thinking about ‘Anna Christie’ at the moment," she says,
adding that maybe she will do another film, though she has no
particular deals in the works. Despite the problems with her eye,
things seem to be looking up for Richardson.

"I’ve got a lot to do," she says, swirling her Perrier. "I just want to work."

Posted in Film, Hollywood, Stage | Comments Off on Voices — Natasha Richardson, 1963 – 2009

Found on EBay — Pigeon Farm

1914_0222_pigeon_farm

Feb. 22, 1914: The flood waters of the Los Angeles River (no concrete channel in those days) leave half a million pigeons drowned or homeless! 

Pigeon_farm_ebay

Our ancestors in Los Angeles apparently found pigeons
to be rare, exotic creatures. And they would pay money to see them. A
photo labeled "Yorgason Pigeon Farm" has been listed on EBay. Bidding starts at $6.50.

1904_1007_pigeon_farm

Above, death near the pigeon farm, Oct. 7, 1904.

Posted in Animals | 2 Comments

Matt Weinstock — March 18, 1959




Victims of Suburbia

Matt_weinstockdA
young man named Steve asks if I can dig up a live hermit he can
interview during Easter vacation for his B-11 American literature class
at Hamilton High. I regret to report failure. An honest-to-goodness
hermit is hard to find. I checked a few places and came up with
nothing.

There are, of course, countless men and women who
live alone and dislike it, and imagine they are hermits. But they don’t
qualify. They go to the grocery store and see people. The dictionary
defines a hermit as "a person who retires from society and lives in
solitude."

I am sure there are a few so-called hermits living
in isolated canyons and hillsides, away from it all, but I doubt
they’re authentic, either. Incidentally, this kind of life is becoming
more difficult all the time with the freeways reaching into nooks,
crannies andbosky dells. 

1959_0318_weinstock
IN FACT,
it appears the hermit business is shot. Come to think of it a hermit would probably be subpoenaed by the Un-American Activities Committee for renouncing the blessings of civilization.

So
you see, Steve, you’ve got too much going against you. And it would be
useless to ask any self-respecting hermit who might read this to come
forward. Part of the hermit game is not to read anything and to want no
part of intruders, especially interviewers.

Ever think of interviewing an Easter Bunny, Steve?

* *


IT’S LATER

than you think. Les and Lucy Wagner phoned their daughter Georgia in
Los Altos Sunday and her husband said she wasn’t there, she was out
Christmas shopping.

"Christmas shopping? Sunday?" Les exclaimed.

"Why not? It’s March, isn’t it?"

* *

1959_0318_poitierSMALL CONSOLATION
If the bombs get cleaner and cleaner
And testing continues its course
If the Russians get meaner and meaner
I’ll be an immaculate corpse.
— PEARL ROWE

* *

IN A LETTER,
Doris Hellman’s sister, now on a slow tour of Europe, writes that she
went to a fancy reception and ball in Hamburg, Germany; attended by
many important political leaders and nobility, and overheard a dowager
in this conversational tidbit: "So I told him — don’t go to war!"

* *

UP AT Stanford, Cameron Shipp
relates, they’re telling about a scientist who went to Cape Canaveral
to launch a rocket. It fizzed momentarily, then died without getting
off the pad, and the scientist returned toPalo Alto disconsolate. 

1959_0318_dodgers
"Don’t worry, it could have been worse," president Wallace Sterling soothed.

"Worse? How could it have been worse? It not only didn’t go into orbit, it didn’t even rise?"

"Suppose it had risen five feet," Sterling said softly, "and then gone into orbit?"

Man, would that have created consternation on the Santa Ana Freeway at 5 p.m.

* *

PUBLIC AT LARGE — Frank Barron has a solution for the West Berlin crisis. Make it the 51st state. We need one on that side . . . Harry Cimring
knows a man who is having engraved on his St. Christopher’s medal, "Not
good over 65 m.p.h." . . . Of Boris Pasternak’s ejection from the
Soviet writers’ union AlHine remarked to Caskie Stinnett: "They bartered their birthright for a pot of message." 

* *


AT RANDOM —

The magic word among actors these days is residuals — checks they
receive for repeat runs of old pictures on TV, usually without knowing
about them. "It’s like stealing," one says . . . That wasn’t Khrushchev
at 2nd and Spring, it was John Grover. Friends said he’d look like
Nikita if he got a close haircut. He did and he does . . . Oops, Mischa
Elman is 68, not in his 80s, as stated here . . . The same issue of a La Mirada paper had a bank worker’s death notice and an ad for a replacement.  

Posted in Columnists, Matt Weinstock | Comments Off on Matt Weinstock — March 18, 1959

Paul Coates — Confidential File, March 18, 1959




CONFIDENTIAL FILE

A Story for Birds — Down Texas Way

Paul_coates
Sometimes, I heist other reporters’ stories.

It’s a harmless-enough pastime, and I only do it on special occasions.

I only do it, for example, when some other reporter has a story I like.

But don’t misunderstand me.

I have professional scruples.

It’s just that I don’t believe in being excessive about them. After all, you can overdo anything.

Yesterday, I put them to the test again. I received a letter from a friend of mine in Texas.*

He enclosed an article from the El Paso Times, which was my kind of story. It was about a man named Jesse Pennington.

1959_0318_red_streak
Pennington — the story related — had become indignant at the way El Paso was treating its pigeon population.

So he took matters into his own hands.

According to the article:

"Pennington has rented a 52-room downtown hotel and converted it into a pigeon coop.

"’I’ve
got about 50 birds to a room,’ he said. ‘They’re very comfortable and
glad to see me when I come in. Those pigeons have heat and running
water and everything.’"

The article mentioned that Pennington
had rounded up in excess of 6,000 birds and added that he had removed
the linen from the hotel’s beds and set up slats across them "so the
pigeons could roost more comfortable.

"’I reckon,’" it quoted the pigeon-catcher, "’that I am the only person in Texas who has rented a hotel for pigeons.’"

The
vision of 6,000 pigeons loose in a 52-room hotel was more than my
imagination could handle. This was a story worth stealing.

1959_0318_map_2

I
tried to locate Jesse Pennington through the El Paso information
operator, but she didn’t have a listing. So I called the Times there,
and they gave me the reporter who handled the story.

"This Jesse Pennington," I said, "must be quite a character."

"He is that," the reporter answered. "I been trying to rustle up another story on him today.

"He’s still got his hotel full of pigeons?" I asked.

The reporter grunted, "Well, not exactly."

"What do you mean?"

Facts Under Spotlight

"Well, when that fellow told me that story, he just kind of stretched it a little."

"Then it wasn’t a 52-room hotel?" I said.

"More
like two rooms. And human beings hadn’t lived in them in I don’t know
how long. I finally got out and took a look and there couldn’t have
been more than 100 pigeons in all."

"I see," I said coolly.

1959_0318_abby"Yes, sir," continued the reporter. "Quite a guy, that old Jesse. He can spin quite a yarn."

"Sure can," I agreed.

"Yep," he said. "But I feel sorry for him."

"How’s that?" I asked.

"Well,
after my story about his 52-room pigeon hotel, his landlord went up to
his two dirty rooms and opened the windows and chased all his pigeons
away."

Right then I decided not to steal the reporter’s scoop. I just can’t stand stories with unhappy endings.

*We were friends before he moved to Texas. 

Posted in Columnists, Paul Coates | Comments Off on Paul Coates — Confidential File, March 18, 1959

In the Theaters — March 18, 1945




1945_0318_movie_ads

Posted in Film, Hollywood | Comments Off on In the Theaters — March 18, 1945

Trouble Was His Business — Raymond Chandler

1955_chandler_phone2_crop

My friend Mary McCoy passes along Raymond Chandler’s listing from the 1955 San Diego phone book, which she discovered while going through the directories at the Los Angeles Public Library. 

Note: To mark the 50th anniversary of Raymond Chandler’s death, the
Daily Mirror is revisiting some of The Times’ stories about his life and
influence. We invite the Daily Mirror’s readers to share their thoughts.

Posted in books, Raymond Chandler | Comments Off on Trouble Was His Business — Raymond Chandler

Yankees’ Spring Training — Without Mickey Mantle, March 18, 1969




1969_0318_sports


1969_0318_sports_runover
The Yankees were turning a page in 1969, getting ready for a season
without Mickey Mantle. Some people thought they just didn’t look like
the Yankees anymore.

The Times’ John Wiesbusch watched as people visited with Manager Ralph Houk about his team and mostly about the retired Mantle.

"Yeah, believe me it’s not the same. It’s not the same now but it
won’t really hit us until we get to Yankee Stadium," Houk said.

"The locker room is the thing that will be different. They say it
was the same with Ruth and Gehrig and I know it was with DiMaggio.
That’s why you tuck their uniforms away in trophy cases along with the
memories."

But this being spring, the news wasn’t all bad.

"Watch that No. 28, Thurman Munson, a catcher," Houk said deep in
the story. "He’s going to be a great one. … When you get on base
against this guy you better just stay there on the bag. … I wouldn’t
be afraid to use him, but naw, he needs a year or two more in the
minors."

Munson played in 26 games in 1969 and eventually became the Yankees’
captain. He was killed in a plane crash during the 1979 season.

–Keith Thursby


Posted in Front Pages, Sports | 4 Comments

Nazis Seize Czechoslovakia, March 18, 1939


1939_0318_nazi_map

1939_0318_hopper

Hedda Hopper writes about a new type of producer-director unit at RKO making "Gunga Din."

British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain denounces Nazi leader Adolf Hitler’s "lawless and sinister" destruction of Czechoslovakia … war fears send the stock market tumbling.

1939_0318_cover

William "The Fox" Hickman’s holdup partner is paroled from San Quentin. And not a single bit of art on the front page.

1939_0318_runover
A wave of Czech suicides is reported.

1939_0318_comics
Comics of yesteryear: "Big Chief Wahoo" and "Harold Teen." With "Dick Tracy" and "Li’l Abner."
1939_0318_sports

Cubs beat Sox 10-2 at Wrigley Field. I love the old sports writing: The "Pale Hose" … swatsmiths … but "turkey-necked Cub third-baseman?"

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Found on EBay — Batchelder Tile

Batchelder_birds_ebay

This Batchelder tile has been listed on EBay. As I recall, a tile similar to this one is part of the fireplace at the Angelus Temple museum, which was formerly the home of Aimee Semple McPherson. When I get a chance I’ll post a picture that I took during the recent L.A. Conservancy tour, "Seekers." Bidding on the tile at left starts at $9.99.
Posted in Architecture, art and artists, Real Estate | Comments Off on Found on EBay — Batchelder Tile

Matt Weinstock — March 17, 1959




Spoofing Session

Matt_weinstockdThose who attended the Screen Writers Awards dinner are still
rolling with some of the punches the authors tossed at each other and
life in Hollywood generally. The proceedings started out with a solemn
oath to stamp out togetherness and along toward midnight things became
downright gamey.

A skit having to do with "Lolita" brought out a remark, "This thing couldn’t get a seal of approval in Tijuana."

A
comedy-writing team came up with a tired routine and one said, "Put an
exclamation point after that so he’ll know it’s a joke."

One
of the most devastating spoofs was a parody of Ed Murrow’s "Person to
Person" show. A man resembling Ed sat on the edge of the stage smoking
a cigarette and talking long-distance with his subjects.

1959_0317_weinstock
THE LIGHTS

came on a scene showing a man shaving in his bathroom. "You got the
wrong house, Mac," he told Murrow, "Mr. Jessel’s three doors down."

The
next subject was a renowned author shown in his dilapidated one-room
shack in the Deep South. Asked if he used an electric typewriter he
said, "No, that’s a butane typewriter." Between killing a  huge rat and
scratching himself the overalled author said to his grown but childish
sister, "Why don’t you go down to the schoolyard and play?" She
replied, "Ain’t nobody to play with but the National Guard."

Program
notes on the event were also illuminating. One writer was described as
"Nero’s rosin boy." It was stated of another that he didn’t believe in
putting anything in writing. Of another that although he wasn’t born in
a log cabin he moved into one as soon as he could afford it.

THEN THERE

were the collaborators who abandoned writing and concentrated on
punctuation, contributing commas, dashes and three dots to 14 feature
films and one quivering colon for TV.

Guests also received the
first draft of the menu with penciled revisions. Comment on the cracked
crab: "Let’s call it maladjusted." Red cabbage: "Offensive to Formosa."
Baked Alaska: "Good! Very topical."

So don’t give up on movie making. There’s life in the old industry yet.

* *


1959_0317_poitierTHEIR BOSSES
may not be aware of it but legal secretaries, while waiting for the
next sentence to be dictated, idly scan the alphabetical titles of law
books. One of them, named Priscilla, remains intrigued by Vol. 16 of
Cal. Jur. 2nd, ‘Descent and Distribution to Drains and Sewers’ and Vol.
40 of the same, ‘Privacy to Public Officers.’"

* *


OBVIOUSLY

there’s disquiet in Detroit. After loftily ignoring the outcries for
smaller, plainer, cheaper, more economical cars, the big boys are
rushing into production with them.

Perhaps they’ve been reading the scorching letters of the last three months in the magazine Product Engineering. A few samples:

"The
American car can no longer be regarded as a means of transportation.
Rather, it has degenerated into an expression of social prestige."

"They are merely rolling nightmares, four-eyed blathers of whirling nonsense, contorted, obscene and trivial."

1959_0317_edsel"There is nothing more ridiculous than high fins and a rocketlike appearance on a Los Angeles street at 30 m.p.h."

"Current automobile design trends indicate a moral decay in America that is most alarming."

Boo!

* *


EXCEPTION
Telling the truth is all very fine,
But not when you’re 30, goes on 29.
–GLADYS FOREMAN

* *

AT RANDOM — The
line "You can’t get there from here" isn’t apocryphal argues Ben
Cherroff of the Terminal Annex Post Office. While in S.F. he asked a
policeman how to reach Judah Street and the officer said it and meant
it. Something about a bay intervening . . . Note from John Odell of
Alhambra re the new picture: "I’m afraid it’s hopeless. You still look
like a Main Street wino with a hangover." . . . To keep the record
straight, Tom Cassidy of KFAC presented a program on stereophonic tape
in December, 1955.

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Paul Coates — Confidential File, March 17, 1959




CONFIDENTIAL FILE

Girls’ Love Calls to Bernie Bedrock

Paul_coatesSometime last November, death made a date with Mrs. Reva Bedrock.

Seven days ago the appointment was kept.

Mrs. Bedrock died of cancer.

I knew her. She called me at the time the doctors told her she was going to die.

Mrs.
Bedrock wanted my help in finding her husband Bernie. She wanted him
home to care for the couple’s two children, Bonnie, 9, and Linda, 11.

Last June 29, Bernie stepped into oblivion.

He was last seen in Las Vegas, in a Fremont Street gambling casino.

He was wearing coveralls with the legend "Bedrock’s TV Service" stitched across the back.

1959_0317_red_streak
Until
that time, Mrs. Bedrock thought his mind, tortured by memories of a
Nazi prisoner-of-war camp, had gone blank, that he was a victim of
amnesia.

But the friend who saw him in Las Vegas found his
mind uncluttered by any psychological problems. Bernie Bedrock had
apparently run away from responsibility.

When she called, Reva
Bedrock asked me to remind him of that responsibility, asked me to
recall for him how much he loved his kids. I directed an appeal to
Bernie, but he either missed it or ignored it.

Now, a North Hollywood neighbor of the Bedrocks, Mrs. Lydia Snitkoff, has asked me to make the appeal once more.

She telephoned me yesterday.

"I wish you could print something again," she said. "Now that the girls’ mother is gone, they need their father more than ever.

1959_0317_duncan"They still love him," she continued. "They still drag out the family photo album and talk about him.

"I feel so helpless," she told me.

The sentiment was similar to that expressed by Mrs. Bedrock.

"Bernie’s got to come home," Mrs. Bedrock said. "He’s part of us.

"And when I’m gone, who’s going to take care of the kids?"

Too Many Drifters

I asked her at that time if there were any words she would speak if she knew her husband could hear.

"Yes, I want him to come back for our daughters’ sake. There are already too many drifters in the world." 

1959_0317_abbyAnd
she might have added that there are too many fatherless kids in the
world. Mrs. Snitkoff did. And she asked me to tell Bernie that in the
last days, Bonnie and Linda worked hard to make their mother
comfortable.

"They’ve sort of become self-sufficient," Mrs. Snitkoff told me. "You know, they do things for themselves."

Which is OK, but every kid needs a father.

That’s you, Bernie.

Reva was buried Saturday at Sholom Memorial Park Cemetery.

Bonnie and Linda are still alive.  

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In the Theaters — March 17, 1943




1943_0317_movie_ads

Posted in Film, Hollywood | Comments Off on In the Theaters — March 17, 1943

Soliah Indicted, February 27, 1976

1976_0227_soliah

1975_0822_bomb

Now this is interesting … and not at all what I expected.

According
to our 1976 story on the indictment of Kathleen Soliah (now Sara Jane Olson), above, an 18-inch pipe bomb was found in the parking lot of
a restaurant at Sunset Boulevard and Orange Avenue in Hollywood on Aug.
22, 1975, at left. Both Times’ stories said the bomb had been placed on the ground beneath
an LAPD patrol car and was noticed by restaurant customers after the
car had driven away.

The Times also reported that after
discovery of the first pipe bomb, police ordered a department-wide
safety check and an officer at the Hollenbeck Division found a similar
bomb on the ground beneath his car.

In neither instance, according to the original report, was the bomb attached to the vehicle.

Let’s look at today’s story by Andrew Blankstein:

[John] Hall and his partner were leaving an International House of Pancakes
restaurant in Hollywood when someone noticed a long, cylindrical object
protruding from under their car.

When the bomb squad eventually disabled and removed the device, Hall
learned how close his brush with death had been: One-sixteenth of an
inch separated the two metal contacts from the bomb detonator.

Authorities estimated the explosive and tightly packed nails in the
device would have killed or maimed up to several dozen people.

Victims would have included a baby girl in her high chair and her
8-year-old sister, who waved to the officers from behind the
restaurant’s plate glass window as the officers were leaving, Hall said.

"It should have gone off," said Hall, who served with the LAPD for
31 years before retiring in 2002. "That it didn’t was a stroke of
extreme luck. The death toll would have been horrendous."

Let’s see what we can find out. Stay tuned….


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