"The Graphic," Volume 1, Number 6 (Saturday, July 28, 1945).

This nostalgia piece is a little different from what I typically post, but it's regarding some items in my collection that puzzle me a little bit. First, I have no recollection of where I picked them up, but I suppose they must have been in a stack of random papers. Second, I'm having a hard time finding out much about them, other than the information they provide themselves.

The cryptic items are two consecutive issues of The Graphic, a World War II regimental newspaper that was "published each Friday in the interest of all 16th Infantry personnel." (The two I have, however, are labeled as coming out on Saturday.) They were published immediately post-war, about four months after the Battle of Remagen, in Bamberg, Germany.

The earlier paper I have is Volume one, Number six, from Saturday, July 28, 1945. A cover article says it is the first issue to be formatted as a tabloid. The later is Volume one, Number seven, Saturday, August 4, 1945. This later one is called an anniversary issue, marking the end of three years overseas for the Sixteenth Infantry, and features a short but powerful article by future director Cpl. Samuel Fuller called "Die Sixteenth Infantry Hat Ein Haus Eingeschlagen." He translates this to "The Sixteenth Infantry has struck a house." Superimposed over the article is the only color in either paper: the Big Red One. (Fuller, in case you're unfamiliar, directed the brilliant 1980 war film The Big Red One, based on his experiences in the 1st Infantry Division so nicknamed. He died in 1997.)

I can’t find any mention of these fascinating papers anywhere, but when I took them to a flea market a few years ago, the seller in an expansive booth of WWII memorabilia dismissively told me he had stacks of them laying around (at home, not the market) and they’re essentially worthless. They seem pretty compelling to me, but I assumed he was telling me the truth since he wouldn’t even look at them, much less did he offer to buy them from me. But if they’re so ubiquitous, why can’t I find out a damn thing about them? Why have I never found one on eBay? I've even sent messages to an active Facebook group honoring the 16th Infantry, never to receive a response.

I've decided to reprint them here, to see if they garner any interest from WWII buffs, or anyone. My dad was with the 15th Army Air Force, but regretfully I never asked him about the war in the sixteen years I had with him, before he died unexpectedly in '85. My brother has some small notebooks in dad's handwriting titled "Record of Sorties," describing the missions he flew in simple, bureaucratic detail, as they were occurring (I guess, considering all the technical minutiae).

That's in contrast to these newspapers, which have a vibrancy to their tone. Largely covering the lives of soldiers trying to return to normal (albeit while still overseas), they contain accounts of social and sporting events, cartoons about their peculiar circumstances (by Frank Interlandi, who went on to a career as a Los Angeles Times editorial cartoonist and abstract Impressionist painter), and articles acting as guides to what they could expect next, and how best to utilize the government benefits due them. 

The hopeful elation of this new peace was obviously tinged with uncertainty, I feel that in these pages. Surely they knew they would continue to bear a weight, but now one that brought on more than just a weariness of bones.

The scans are top of page and bottom of page, I didn't bother trying to combine them fearing a loss of legibility. I edited them the best I could, eliminating some excess margins. I felt they looked best as color scans, lightly sharpened and brightened with a little contrast added. The difference in clarity between these and grayscale scans, I found, was negligible. I kept the color, for its character and unembellished verisimilitude (in other words: keepin’ it real!). The deeply-yellowed pages, for the record, are soft, not brittle.

I hope to add more description in order to make them more search engine-friendly, but for now I just want to get them on here. I'll have the other issue up at a later date, in the meantime please comment with additional info, thoughts, suggestions...

The big headline on the front page gives one an idea of where their greatest interest lie:

"BEER HAVENS OPENED FOR [ENLISTED MEN]"
with the subtitle
"16th Soldiers Can Buy Beer In Local Taverns; Ten Pubs In Operation."

(Oh, and don’t miss “Jive Time In Czechoslovakia.”) 

(click to enlarge and clarify)

Check back for the other issue, one o' these days (probably with some TV nostalgia nuttiness in the meantime, however)...
UPDATE!
I decided to give the full page edit a shot in order to see how it looks, so here's a preview of the next issue, and that incredible Sam Fuller piece with the Big Red One emblem over it (not to mention there's a message from Ike himself).

Thanks for looking, and remember: share, share, that's fair!

Newsday TV Book, July 31-August 6, 1983.

Happy almost-August to ya! So are you ready for fall yet? I am, although we've barely had a taste of the hot stuff in your Non-Parader's neck of the woods. I try not to give in to my inclination toward treating this month as an ordeal to be endured, because, as we all should remember, the odds for seeing another one next year are increasingly troubling to consider. (I had thought of using "Death is Inevitable" as the tagline for this blog, but, I dunno, seems vaguely off-putting.)

This week's issue is awash in the summer doldrums (as Harriet Van Horne will sniffily explain later). The cover features a series that I recall precisely as you see here: It was called Reggie and it starred Richard Mulligan. And with that, I'm out.

By the way, seen with Mulligan is actress Lisa Freeman, not a regular on the show (which only lasted six episodes anyway). I looked her up, she became an author and is hotter now than she was forty years ago. As the small print says, results are atypical.

The story of how Reggie came to be is surprisingly literate, considering how stupid the show sounds.

The last bit of the cover story is accompanied by the erstwhile Cable TV Highlights, now focusing just on Local Cable TV.

In the TV Line, we learn various things that the average person either already knows (the name of the  Alfred Hitchcock Presents theme, duh) or could not possibly care less about (everything about Brian Robbins).

As promised, here's the even-cattier-than-me HVH, bemoaning the season's reruns and grounded pilots, and aiming right between Meg Foster's most unusual eyes while praising her TV movie's setting and horse.

Between the dearth of interesting ads, the gutting of John Cashman's reviews, and the lack of Viskupic (just one illustration, although it is a good one), I'm largely limiting the scans to all day Sunday, Friday, and Saturday. In my estimation, the NTVB editions of the 80's grow more tiresome by the month for said reasons, among others. I was about to enter high school and already a fairly cynical little shit, so I knew, like my boo Harriet, that a lot of what TV offered was utter garbage.

Anyway, the Sunday morning pages also show the local and cable channel legends, which is kinda cool (especially since my hometown of Plainview is included, woot-woot).

I'll break things up a little bit here with this ad for Newsday's own cable channel (called--that's right--The Newsday Channel), which featured a few hours daily of live or taped news programming, but with much of their broadcast day being made up of on-screen text and computer graphics (as seen in the ad). I don't know how long it was around--the last NTVB of my collection is for Christmas 1985, and [NDY] is still there in the key. I thought it was gone by then.

Here is Monday night, notable to me for the continuing use of the Noseless Preggo for Dan Howard's Maternity Factory (except these days her head appears much smaller). Also, the close-up is a mess: that evening's airing of Nashville was on at 8pm, not nine, and on WOR, local channel 9--not on WABC channel 7's network feed. Martinsen and Stewart, sleeping on the job...

As promised, a little Visk for ya, this time out depicting a congressional can of worms which, as cans of worms go, is actually fairly tidy.

Finally, the Off Camera column reveals that J.R. Ewing and Blake Carrington were going to "court." The TENNIS court, that is! And 9 to 5 was going through major changes, always a good sign for a new sitcom. (Note that Valerie Curtin is out... and then back in two sentences later. Do better, CBT.)

Alright, on behalf of 41-year-old television, this is Don't Parade in My Rain, signing off! See you next time, maybe! Remember: Death is
INEVITABLE!!!

My Writings, or Fifty-Cent Words for Two-Bit Ideas.

I've been plugging away at this blog for damn near nineteen years now, and it's evolved quite a bit along the way. This is mainly due to my collection of 70's/80's Newsday TV Books growing almost tenfold in that period, from a couple dozen to 217 today. Taking a look at those issues has become a focus here, but it's always been my intention to use this forum as an outlet for my personal writings.

Since it's gotten harder to dig out my own nostalgia pieces hidden among the pop culture nuggets, I thought I'd compile the reminiscences and deposit them right here in this post. (Did you mentally add a *splat* sound effect to that sentence? Because I did.)

Oh, and if you're only interested in the old Tee-Vee listings--and I totally don't blame you--those are easily accessible through this other post.

I grew up on Long Island, the youngest of seven, and attended Catholic school.

Even before I was school age, I went to see Krofft on Ice in the city. I harbored various crushes as a kid, starting with Clarice, the stop-motion reindeer.

Don't ask me how, but I remember a lot about my first grade orientation in 1975. Later I would go to school dressed as Frankenstein, sort of.

One of my first friends was David K_____, and he was an odd li'l fella (this post includes my first grade class photo, as well as one of the scar he gave me).

I was also friends with Maria, who lived across the street. One year, she had a birthday party.

The Blizzard of '78 was a barn-burner (or, more accurately, a toy factory exploder). Summer was fun back then too, with the ice cream man and all that.

I had gerbils, beginning with Felix and Oscar. I wanted to be a stuntman. I had an occasional friend, but he didn't get to grow up.

I had a lisp, which Saint Pius helped me with.

I always liked to read, and I read The Stand in the fifth grade. I began listening to music that meant something to me in the seventh grade. I wanted to be a writer even then, and for some reason started with a western. 

My friend Mike bore the brunt of many insults, and was the subject of disparaging comics in our notebooks. (This one too, although it's less insulting.) Somehow we are friends to this day. Same goes for Jeff, who used to sleep over a lot.

I loved Christmas, and memories of Christmas, and Christmas with my family, and Christmas shows, and more Christmas shows, and Christmas music, and more Christmas music. The Sears Wish Book for 1977 was awesome, and I don't throw that word around.
New Year's Eve was cool too.

My dad was 46 when I was born, and I was sixteen when he died. My mom died in 2007, and I wrote about her funeral, and a letter she wrote to her kids.

My friends and I listened to novelty songs on the TV. I was obsessed with all things Star Wars and Empire Strikes Back (including the calendars) until losing interest before the third one came out. We did film our own take on Empire (or attempted to, anyway). I don't remember watching the Holiday Special at the time, but I have seen it many, many, many times since.

Creature Feature cards were also pretty cool.

My family got cable in August, 1981. That was a game changer.

I was a fan of Howard Stern starting from his time on WNBC. I was not a fan of Imus.

In high school, Mike and I made a zombie movie called We Are Going to Eat You. We also filmed a mock expose on homelessness, because that's funny. And here's a look at a sort-of monster movie we sort-of made.

I liked to walk around at night, a habit that led to me purloining a shitload of movie posters from a shuttered theater.

I wore cheap sneakers my freshman year, and it didn't go unnoticed. I also, strangely, participated in a school play.

I didn't go to my prom, but I later went to a girlfriend's prom, and it was a disaster.

I later worked for a telemarketer, sort of, and have the calls to prove it.

I left the Island, which was good, and moved upstate, which was not.

Later still, Mike and I lived near Myrtle Beach, and performed original songs there too. Songs such as "Sick," which is about being sick. We also wrote new music for The Clown and the Kids, the Emmett Kelly blockbuster.

Other stuff I've written about:

How the deaths of celebrities affected me as a kid.

My affinity for la réalité macabre and the mysterious entanglements within.

More oddball topics, such as Brenda Spencer, the American Airlines DC-10 crash, Jerry Falwell dying, Turkey in May™, "Blue Monday," my fondness for obscure performers, Chicken in a Can, and Mugsy from the Uncle Floyd Show.

My collection of old commercials (plus a whole other blog about it!).

Captain Ahab, a LI kiddie-show host.

My distaste for Bonaduce.

Some poetry-type stuff, and something about the seasons, and eternity.

Going down internet rabbit holes.

People disliking videos on my YouTube channel.

A coloring book from 1964 with an unexpected cameo appearance by J.K. Simmons.

Harry Truman, the codger who got blowed up on Mount St. Helen's.

An old, pain-in-the-ass cat who died, and how much my wife and I loved him.

The occasional movie review/rant, such as these targeting Almost Famous and A Beautiful Mind.

For the bigger picture, here are my grim views on atheism, the occult, life (and Life), our impending doom, and finally, two pieces that were inspired by the documentary about Lisa "Left Eye" Lopes. The first is my impressions of the doc, and the follow-up covers my increasingly shaky faith in humanity.

Just so this post will have a thumbnail with it, here's a Mad Magazine page (by the great Al Jaffee) that was tacked to my wall for years because it summed up my smoky childhood so nicely...

Hugo Was Totally Boss!

I was digging around for something I wrote, my memories of various childhood artifacts that I had posted to the long-kaput nostalgia website Yesterdayland.com, probably twenty-five years or so ago. The only piece I could find was my reminiscence about Hugo, Man of a Thousand Faces. If you're unfamiliar, here he is.

He was a puppet, but his mouth didn't move and you added features to his face, so he was really more of a partial, hollow mannequin. Yes, he was a toy. Like, for children.

I don't think I actually asked for Hugo, but he entered my life at Christmas, 1976 (I think, although he came out the year before). Here he is in the background of a family Christmas snapshot, photobombing my brother. Hugo's mouth got gradually torn at the corners from repeated attempts to make him speak, and it looks to me like you can see that tear here. So this pic probably wasn't taken during the Christmas that I got him--he was just a part of the family, hanging out in the living room for the holiday.

Anyway, here's what I wrote about Hugo. (As much as I enjoy doing it, I will resist the urge to put my own words in quotes.)

I had one then, and I have one now. [This is no longer true.] Hugo appeared on The Uncle Floyd Show, and was once seen in Rolling Stone magazine, poking out from the leather jacket of Lee Rocker, bass player for the Stray Cats (from Long Island, like me). I think Elton John got the idea for his own hairpiece style from Hugo's mop-top toupee.

The disguise combinations depicted on his box are hilarious---each one more hideous than the last. The box exclaims "make thousands of pretend friends!" Yeah, friends who look like they'd shiv a seven-year-old sooner than play dolly with him. My favorite look is the one I like to think of as Hugo's "Travis Bickle": a tuft of mohawk on top of his head, several Bobby D.-style moles, and a bloody gash straight up the forehead (and this was a year before the movie came out). Well done, Hugo, you'll really blend into any setting wearing that disguise!

Of course there's also his simple wig, glasses and sideburns combo, which calls to mind Dick Cavett circa 1971. Imagine the hours of fun, pretending Hugo is interviewing Marshall McLuhan or Zeppo Marx!

Hugo's intricate disguises are off-set (and sometimes undermined) by his unvarying garb, a blue Chinese waiter smock/tunic. No reason is given, either on the box or the instruction sheet, to explain Hugo's penchant for concealing his identity. Is he a spy? Perhaps he's a horror movie star? Or just a peculiar li'l fella who likes to dress up in an eyepatch and blood-clotted bandages? Who knows? Ask Kenner, or Alan Ormsby Creations---yes, THAT Alan Ormsby, of "Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things" infamy. Never mind, don't ask... just thank them for giving us this tight-lipped, enigmatic little man.

I made a Hugo logo for this very blog, apparently, although I don't remember doing it or why.

I use Hugo as the avatar on my YouTube channel of vintage video.
(I added the channel's name as his eyebrows in this version.)

I've crossed myself with Hugo, as a baby and more recently.

I made an optical illusion using Hugo. Again, the reason is unclear. Move your face toward him, then away. (If viewing on a phone, just move the phone, I guess.)

Here are some more pics I edited Hugo into. Poorly.

Hugo in an old tuxedo brochure...

...times three.

LKF: Hugo played Twiki on the old Buck Rogers in the 25th Century show.

Here he is as a part of Our Gang.

Here's Fat Tron Hugo.

Hugo as Christopher Plummer.

Grand Moff Hugo Tarkin.

As some creepy kid (I added the knife) in an old photo, with legs...

...and without.

Now, Hugo as creepy Santa.

Hugo as Grady, and then Clint Howard.

Hugo Einstein.

Hugo: the Heisenberg Edition.

I titled this one "Hugo spotted downtown with Anne Hathaway."

Some old ads, +Hugo.

And finally, a thing I made while totally looped on cough medicine. Good night!