Jack the Tailor of Beverly Hills

 DATELINE: You Are What You Call Yourself!

 Clothes Make the Man!

Upon first coming across a one-hour documentary on a fashion store in Beverly Hills, we thought it was one of those vanity documentaries, produced by its subject. Jack Taylor was a 90-year old high fashion artist from old Hollywood days.

The film is a tad old, with Taylor gone in 2016 and his main supporter, Mike Douglas, a decade before that. Yet, we are always eager to catch up on our past misgivings.

Jack Taylor hardly needs publicity, and business is dying out as his A-list celebrity patrons pass away. He would soon follow and take an era with him. He was the man who tailored all those magnificent suits worn by Cary Grant from the 1930s till his death. Grant would order a dozen suits at time.

We wondered if there were any celebs who’d go on camera for a commercial appearance—and there were plenty of men: Mike Douglas, Hal Linden, swore by Jack Taylor. Monty Hall wore a different outfit every show on Let’s Make a Deal, all created by Taylor.

He made clothes for Elvis, Sinatra, Charles Bronson, and so many men. He was not easy either. He would tell them not to eat or put on weight. His suits were meant to show them off at their best shape. His most obstreperous client was Jackie Gleason who needed 3 sizes, because of his weight changes over weeks and months.

Taylor would tell them to eat only half the plate at the restaurant. He did not do alterations, or sew the suits. He has a 60-year tailor for that: he has worked for Taylor for sixty years. He’s in his 80s. But both lament there are no tailors any longer.

We are looking at the extinction of men’s fashion. There was no endangered species list: men’s suits and ties were dinosaurs when the political landscape changed its pants.

Clothes for men nowadays are off the rack at best, and China imports at worst. Jack Taylor knows his world of well-dressed men is fading away. He thinks the 1940s were the last gasp, but the war killed it at that point. And, the 1970s turned into a fashion death knell for men’s clothing with jeans and t-shirts as the extent of wardrobe.

We never expected to be fascinated at expensive clothes, being a recluse who never makes public appearances. However, celebrities still know a good suit is essential, but they are going to have a hard time finding anyone to replace jack Taylor.

Oh, My Gog! Not to Mention Magog!

DATELINE: Forgotten Classic? 

 Infamous Gog and Herbert Marshall.

Back in the early 1950s, one of the way-ahead-of-its-time movies was something called Gog (out of your Bible as a nasty evil force). The movie turned Gog into a “brain machine,” because no one dared to call it a computer back then.

Gog and Magog are robots with independent thinking skills. The computers must deal with out of control nuclear power where no man can go. Without much overt horror, this thinking man’s vision of the future went down the tubes with nary a fly-by.

More than a decade before Kubrick unleashed the HAL computer as villain on A Space Odyssey,Ivan Tors of Flipper fame turned his vision loose in a desert military base, top secret, a few years before the government created Area 51.

No wonder this movie in 3-D was a bomb. No one in the days of flying saucer mania believed in this stuff really would take over TV in the 21stcentury. The movie plot was years ahead of crypto-zoology and Artificial Intelligence with evil intent.

The movie starred Richard Egan, or is that Richard Carlson? You know any good sci-fi/horror effort in those years had to star one of them.

And, as the distinguished scientist, you had Herbert Marshall heading down the road that Vincent Price would later own.  This is a few years before Marshall had a big hit with an original shocker, The Fly. Marshall is also long-past the razor’s edge here.

Apart from the high-tech predictions, you have a great many silly low-tech, insipid notions, like a windshield wiper on the glass of a lab window—and steam radiation heat out of pipes.

Gog was a big disappointment to the drive-in audiences of the age, and its lost color and 3-D view on TV never helped it achieve any kind of post-release respect.

 

 

Social Skills Bite the Dust

DATELINE: Curmudgeon’s Perspective

Role Model: Heidi’s Grandfather

Leave it to the New York Times to write up a report that one hideous side-effect of the coronavirus is that social skills are biting the dust.

Yes, apparently people are not using their social skills and are losing the edge in dealing with other people in a variety of ways. They are cranky, depressed, short-tempered, and in fact are becoming Heidi’s grandfather, that old isolated reprobate who hated kids. The new paranoia mistrusts everyone.

As an old curmudgeon who has been bilious for years, this is amusing to no end.

Meeting new people has never been high on this writer’s list, but apparently many in society thrive on socializing. We can offer a few tidbits of advice to those who are snappy at stay-at-home children and grandparents: try to use good manners.

It’s a concept in short supply in the new century and has been endangered for decades. Intolerant, impatient, people have shrugged off etiquette in the 21stcentury like toilet paper they cannot find in proper quantities.

Your good manners may be more important than toilet paper or hand sanitizer.

According to expert psychologists, this is a biological problem because the species is a social animal. We think that rats trapped on Antarctica might also turn on each other. Psychologists have learned these lessons from studying hermits, like this author, and from isolated people in various self-imposed quarantine.

The world had better learn how to deal with fewer social skills if you plan to fly to Mars and live in an enclosed environment with a few colleagues for years on end.

We may, in fact, be preparing for the next stage of anti-civilization: when we are schizoid, alone with our thoughts, and must come to grips with philosophy concepts you avoided in college classes and Phil 101.

 

 

 

Kennedy Dynasty Undone

DATELINE: Last of the Kennedys in Mass.

As a long-suffering liberal Republican in Massachusetts, it is with shock that we have observed the end of the Kennedy dynasty. When a Kennedy cannot win a senate seat in this state, then the entire political family is on the endangered list.

Oh, we trace our ties to the Kennedys back to when my father was asked in 1945 to join the Kennedy congressional campaign. Young JFK wanted all the young military officers of his district to come on board. My father met him at the local church hall and told him he never stood a chance of winning.

So much for one family predicting the fate of another.

 

When I was a kid, my father took me to a parade near Bunker Hill when Senator JFK was riding in an open car. My father called to him as he went past: Kennedy recognized him, pointed a finger and laughed. I was quite impressed as a kid that JFK knew my father and snickered at him.

Now I am pointing finger at the grandson of RFK, the red-headed twinster, Joe III, who appears to have chewed more than he bit off.

Joe Kennedy may be out of politics after today. Or perhaps, like Abe Lincoln, a defeat for Congress will make him more attractive as a presidential candidate.

The pundits claimed young Joe was too eager and made a mistake in challenging Ed Markey, an absentee powerbroker in the old -ashioned pol sense.

We had hoped to make up for a family omission by voting for Joe in the general election (as we are not part of the Democratic primary voting list.

Now that apology to the Kennedy family from my progenitors will be put on hold, perhaps for another time, but my vote may not be there in the next campaign.

Yep, it’s the end of another era.

 

 

Unidentified Finale, Part 2

DATELINE: Biting Audience Hand

 Elizondo

The series may smell its own doom and climbs out of the box in which it has placed itself for two seasons:  instead of video footage of UFOs, the show switched to alien abduction stories.

Lou Elizondo calls abduction of Americans an “act of war,” and an attempt to regain audience support. Like John Casey on World War 2 Gold, Lou Elizondo may be pushing out his costars. He takes the reins completely in the final two shows of the season.

The victims of close encounters are all, of course, former military non-coms who have retired and now are willing to speak their stories. Nearly all are serving at nuclear facilities when they had their bad meetings and missing time.

At least one witness adds a new wrinkle: that the UFO was gaseous with no sharp edges and had changing colors. The witness was left with odd burns from the encounter, but military tests are never shared with him.

These vets often mention black-outs and sleep paralysis.

Host Elizondo talks to one expert, Dr. Susan Clancy, who completely shreds and debunks all these witness experiences as “false memory.” Elizondo readily accepts this.

She insists that the belief of these memories is important for validation for an individual whose life is devoid of meaning. She also takes a shot at Dr. John Mack of Harvard who came to accept abduction as real.

In a last-ditch effort to throw a sop to the fans who usually are faithful to these kind of shows, Elizondo claims there are real physical effects to these witnesses. It may be too little too late.

Elizondo notes that there are six billion earth-like planets in the galaxy and may have “brothers and sisters” of the human race. The final few minutes become a desperate plea to continue the investigations, but History channel may more than likely pull the plug on this series.

Norman Mailer: American Something or Other

DATELINE: Great Writers?

Norman, is that you?

We confess that we never had much regard for Norman Mailer during his lifetime. He was an Ernest Hemingway wannabe without style or class. He was the Nixon of writers.  He reveled in the cult of personality over writing talent. However, there was no denying he was a writer: he never wavered in writing novels, journalism, history, biography, and social commentary.

Unlike many writers, he was prolific and constant in his commitment. He loved writing from his days at Harvard and like Gore Vidal, he might have gone off track now and then as an actor, film director, or even candidate for political office. He always returned to writing.

He used his fame and fortune as a writer to open every door he could: he had six wives and a passel of children. He had the buzz off money that most people envy. He could tell anyone, big or small, famous or infamous, to go to hell. He did it his way. His success with The Naked and The Dead made him rich and famous, but he was a critical target after that. He became an insulting drunkard.

In a world where you might admire talent or special ability, he never thought much of any of it. He said and did what he wanted. He was independent and might stick a fork in a snarling lion if it behooved him. He stabbed his second wife, nearly killing her, and faked insanity and begged her not to press charges. What a tool.

Gore Vidal could berate him to face and he shrugged it off. He would bait a Dick Cavett audience and sneer back at their hostility. He was larger than life.

Should we admire him now that he was been gone 20 years or so? He wrote marvelous books on Marilyn and Oswald that stand up to researchers still.

He won a couple of Pulitzers for taking on capital punishment and the Vietnam War. He was fearless and cocky. We never liked him, but in his dotage we have come to recognize our own dotage. It does not change that he was reprehensible.

Planetary Threat in South America?

DATELINE: Unidentified Breaks Mold!

 Chinese Base in S.A.

What the hell is going on? China has a paramilitary spy network in Argentina?

The next episode of  Identified. called itself “Planetary Threat,” and it was a tad different than the previous season and earlier in the second season..

The series put its focus outside the United States military, or so it appeared at first. The show sent host and former Pentagon AATIP point-man, Luis Elizondo, to Peru and Argentina.

More experts insist that the US has secret technology hiding under the guise of UFOs. They even claim groups like MUFON are government covers for spying.

He remained in contact with military people, but this seemed a great departure of the routine of the early episodes that tended to repeat itself with different pilots in different places being in contact with tick-tack UFOs.

Elizondo finds the military in South American countries are far more open—and they see global problems. From top to bottom, military regimes in Peru and Argentina and Uruguay will talk quite bluntly. Yet, Elizondo also goes out to Patagonia to talk to simple residents about their experiences.

You might ask what gives? Yet, it soon becomes apparent when Elizondo discovers China has a secret surveillance system built in the most remote area of Argentina, allegedly for their Moon mission. Elizondo is suspicious. This could be a means to survey the United States.

Then, the bombshells fall:  it seems the US encouraged and supported UFO programs in South America, where information can be kept quiet and away from media. It also means that data is shared with American Pentagon people. It is a clever move to hide information.

Most interesting too, Elizondo is asked point-blank if he believed in the reality of UFOs, and to a bit of a surprise, he hemmed and hawed, refusing to give an answer. Finally, he claimed he wanted to maintain objectivity.

Curiouser and curiouser.

Trump’s Sports Liaison

DATELINE: Last of the Ninth?

 Golf Duffer & Liaison.

Trump just canceled throwing out the first pitch next week at the Red Sox-Yankees game at Yankee Stadium. Is it going to be too hot? Or did Secret Service say that they couldn’t protect him? Trump joked last year that he needed a suit of armor for such an appearance.

Who is setting up these faux sports events for Trump?

You may be surprised or not: according to Abigail Hess, intrepid CNBC reporter, it is none other than Rudy Giuliani’s 32-year old son.

Yes, if you are puzzled  why Trump has had more sports involvement lately, you could look no deeper than Andrew Giuliani whose job, as special sports liaison, is to ferret out aging, dumb jocks who support Trump without question.

So, Bob Cousy of the Celtics receives a Medal of Freedom. Some teams are invited to the White House, and others are disparaged. Blame it on a Giuliani advisor.

Daddy Rudy claims there is no pay-off or pay-back to hire the son of the President’s personal lawyer at $100,000 grand per year. Rudy notes it is a “nice” job  to locate aged in the wood sports figures for Trump to play golf with (Brett Favre only this week), and sound them out for public statements of support.

NASCAR is no accident for Trump. He knows all about the Confederate flags on race cars because of Andrew Giuliani, and there is a safe spot and sport for Trump to canoodle with unquestioned stars of the past.

Next time there is a loser in the White House, you know he will look for victory in former sports winners.

 

Trump Wins Pedophile Voters

DATELINE: Well wishes for child molester!

 Trump & Dear Friend.

If he’s not encouraging assassins to shoot Obama appointees to the judiciary, President Donald Trump is sending his best wishes to accused pedophile procurers. His old friend Ghislaine is rotting in jail for procuring hundreds of girls for a sex ring with Jeffrey Epstein.

Yes, you heard him on national TV as he offered jailed Jeffrey Epstein co-conspirator his fondest (frankly) wishes for a bright future. You may wonder why. But Trump told us that too: he knew “them” in Palm Beach. They all lived there in cozy proximity.

Trump admitted he met “them” many times. So much for Clinton meeting them four times. Them, in case you are curious, usually refers to a couple or a married couple. Whatever Trump knows about their private lives, he knows Epstein and Ghislaine were a team.

He professed to know nothing about the pedophilia case involving hundreds of teenage girls. Yet, his Secretary of Labor was the prosecutor who let Epstein off the hook in Florida and was later rewarded by Trump with an appointment in the Cabinet.

When Azar resigned, he did so because of Jeffrey Epstein and mentioned it at a press conference with Trump standing next to him. Apparently, your POTUS has memory or mental acuity troubles.

A few fake investigative journalists like Mother Jonessaw nothing odd about this. We beg to differ (of course).

What dog whistle tune is he sending to Ghislaine Maxwell?  She is about to blow the whistle on Prince Andrew (Trump is like Sgt. Schultz, he knows nothing), and President Clinton. The third member of the jeopardized triangle is Trump.

He is sending best wishes to let Ghislaine know that a commutation is in the works if she keeps his name out of the shenanigans and felonies.

Oh, please, Trump has already commuted one felon (Roger Stone) and Ghislaine would sit pretty if she kept her mouth shut about certain famous, powerful people.

So, best wishes to child molesters from Trump. He needs their votes in the upcoming election. From Trump’s lips to every 14-year old victim.

 

 

 

Biden’s Veep: Corona Virus

DATELINE: Don’t Call Her Corona Harris!

  in-joke!

It is a shock to the system when my friend, who speaks with a thick French Creole accent, insisted that he believed that Joe Biden would name Corona Virus as his Vice President.

I had to stop and to wonder if he were speaking metaphorically. And, he was agitated with me for asking if the question and answer were “rhetorical,” a figure of speech.

Some years ago when we were talking about how he liked to go to the local pond and feed the flamingos.  I pointed out at the time that there were no flamingos in the pond, and the area was not on the flamingo migration route.

It took some time to figure out that he meant “swans,” and who could blame him for improving his English vocabulary with a fancy word like flamingo. The birds were big, had long and curved necks, and were graceful. Yep, flamingo and swan, quite similar.

However, the notion that Biden might use Corona Virus as his mainstay to defeat Trump was intriguing too. It took some back and forth for the discussion to evolve from metaphor to actual person. He knew what former candidate for president was, in his parlance, Corona Virus.

When the light dawned, and the true person he believed would be the ultimate selection of Biden came clear, I was convulsed with hilarity. It was as if we had a premonition of what nickname Trump would place on the vice- presidential nomination of Joe Biden.

Who was the black woman candidate? You may have already guessed:  the name resonates with corona virus.

Well, she can be Kamala Virus or in some places she should be Corona Harris.  Yes, he meant Kamala Harris. Oi vey.

 

 

 

Junk Food Impresario

 DATELINE: President Goya, Not Artistic

 

When Donald Trump poses with junk food, you know in your heart he’s right of heart disease. Now, the burger king of hamburglars is posing with Goya beans.

Trump never heard of Goya the artiste, but he knows his hot sauce. The picture of a United States president with cans aligned is enough to put you off your feed.

You know he’s never eaten that stuff: too healthy.

The man with thumbs up on his empty Oval Office desk is tanking in the polls, but not in the hearts of taco lovers.

A few purists of integrity might claim that the POTUS has cheapened his job to that of a TV huckster. Well, he already consults with Chuck Woolery of game show fame for advice on science and medicine.

Trump only plays a president on TV. In real life, he is an escaped inmate from some madhouse of the 18thcentury. This is a man who knows haute cuisinefrom the back of his hand where he usually spills the ketchup. Gourmands of the world have a new pinup boy, the man who loves a can opener only as a last resort. He prefers to unwrap his lunch from cheap paper.

We seldom see Trump smile except when he thinks he is making a profit. The smile on the face of this man is so fake that it ought to become the yardstick for fake news.

If hunger pains are consuming you, your president is now a man strictly from hunger for supporters who refuse to remain distant (and how we wish they’d be distant) and only wear masks when they are about to steal your election and right to vote.

If Goya foods survive this endorsement, they will be using Nazi insignias on the next K-ration can.

If Trump plugging nachos is your idea of humor, you have been outside the box with Alexander Pope far too long.  Generic fish and chips would have been adequate to put us off our feed.

  Trump Lives Free in Airport Hangar

 DATELINE: Rally ‘Round the Flag?

If you follow the weather in New England, you only have to wait a minute to discover Trump just had his rainfall checked.

A big rally in Manchester, New Hampshire, at an airport hangar was postponed for Saturday because Tropical Storm Fay wanted to intrude. The White House chose to back down from getting their supporters all wet.

The problem is that Fay will have been long gone by the time of the rally. So, what is really going on here? It may be actually that the crowd was going to be so small, lessened by raindrops falling on their head, that the campaign decided to bail out.

The image of Air Force One surrounded by 50 people just didn’t cut the mustard of big rallies.

The hangar where no UFOs are stored was a small venue for Trump, but the visual would show crowds pouring out into the tarmack. Alas, if there is no drizzle of crowd noise, Trump will be stuck with another bad optic effect: he’s losing support.

He thought at one point he could muster the racism of New Hampshire into an eked-out victory in November, but polls now show he is trailing badly to Sleepy Joe, the man whose pillow talk soothes the country.

The White House no longer gives crowd expectation size, having been burned in Tulsa where the few supporters now all have coronavirus. It seems they were willing to hand out masks in New Hampshire, but no one likes to be sick—and supporting Trump has now become a symptom of being so sick you belong in a psycho ward.

We also would point out that the supporters of Confederacy, Robert E. Lee, and the night they drove old Dixie down, are few and far between in Yankee New Hampshire where living free is only slightly more popular than to die.

 

 

 

 

 

Four Little Letters at ESPN

DATELINE: Idiots from the Show-Me State of Mind

 Imbecile at Large!

 The limits of telling off an elected official have now reached critical point. A fairly well-known sports journalist has been suspended by that bastion of free speech, ESPN, for telling a closet-idiot senator known for his Trump edge to go “f” himself.

We’ve heard worse diatribes aimed at immortal beings. It seems many in the NBA (whom the un-pronounceable journalist was defending) have come to his aid and comfort.

Billion-dollar corporations and billionaires are now defended by a gaggle of ungagged neo-racist fools and idiots. Josh Hawley is a 40-year old exploitative politician who wants to make hay fast. He is also from the “Show-Me” state of Missouri.

We’d love to show him total disrespect due his rank smell.

The notorious Sen. Josh Hawley is the bright light of the dim GOP and may well be a candidate successor to Donald Trump when the present presidente is sent packing to a Moscow address after the next election.

You cannot use four-letter words in an email at ESPN. To argue our usual line of thought, a good writer need not stoop to profanity. Isn’t the education of a wordsmith that he can express his exasperation without four letters being the custom of boobs and thugs?

We certainly understand the need for a Republican senator of the United States to perform an impossible sex act on himself. However, we might couch it on the couch with more genteel verbiage.

Part of our divided America is that those who have intelligence and education must not stoop to conquer the profane idiots of the crypto-Nazi field, like Senator Hawley, a near-Cro-Magnon Republican stalwart.

Yes, We Have No Trump Bananas!

DATELINE: Accused Felon

Trump with recently arrested harridan predator.

Fox News, that bastion of journalistic integrity, has now taken to cropping any photo of Jeffrey Epstein with Trump so that the POTUS is MIA. They forgot all the pix of Ghislaine Maxwell with him.

This is almost identical to sticking your head in the sand, if you are an ostrich. If you don’t show it, it never happened. A Trump supporter went for our throat recently when we sent a picture of the president and Ghislaine. She foamed rapidly that it was “photoshopped,” but did not feel any picture of Bill Clinton might be equally photoshopped.

Of course, the nervous nellies of Fox are photoshopping Trump out of the images because the summertime heat is increasing. It seems the prosecutor’s office may be looking at a tie to “public officials.” Hmm, that means you, Trump.

 

 

It could mean AG Barr too, whose father was an early Epstein enabler at the Dalton School, a fancy prep where words like rich and scandal never are put in the same sentence.

 

Sexual predators seem to travel in packs.

 

Fox News clearly is thinking that their news watchers who are Trump supporters do not need to hear how their brazen leader knew and supported the child abuse of Ghislaine and Epstein. Heavens, no!

 

The problem is a pattern of sexual abuse and accusers over many years around the President. The problem is that Ghislaine’s father (and her friend Epstein) may have been selling video, audio, and bugged footage to Vladimir Putin over the years. Yes, Epstein was a salesman who met death from the business of selling images of  famous politicians in compromising positions.We do not use “positions” lightly.

A cold steel dossier on Trump would surely mean his cooperation. Putin has that.

Of course, some Fox intern left Melania in the original picture, apparently not recognizing her in her pre-First Lady coquettish days.

Fox News may switch its theme song to “Yes, We Have no Bananas.”  It’s fitting for those going crazy and living in a banana republic like Trumpworld.

 

 

 

Orange Hair is the New Blackface!

DATELINE: All Lives Anti-Matter!

 Upside Down to an Illiterate?

There goes the neighborhood! That is Trump’s reaction to having a giant sign that says, “Black Lives Matter” in front of his New York Trump Tower.

Apart from thinking that a peaceful movement is a “symbol of hate,” he believes that people who share that view are likely terrorists. He is concerned that the valuable property on Fifth Avenue will never have a white Easter parade again.

This revelation from a man who touts supporters who cry out, “White Power,” and brandish weapons aimed at peaceful marchers, is typical of a man who is going down to Fifth Avenue, with a gun where he famously announced he could shoot someone and never lose a vote.

We now know the people he prefers to shoot are likely black people.

 

The real symbol of hate in 2st century America is sitting in the Oval Office, fielding softball questions from Sean Hannity on TV. And, even then, he cannot answer a question directly—like what horror of genocide will he perform if re-elected.

We do know that in Trump’s world, Robert E. Lee enjoys more protection than a young black man under surveillance by your local police.

He is fighting mad and fighting like hell you never read a book about him, as he is desperate to stop his niece’s unsavory details about a man who put money before family.

Then, again, when your father marches in KKK rallies back in the 1920s, you may be justified in taking his money away from him when he reached the Alzheimer stage of old age. He probably thought black lives matter.