I’m firing that pig!

Well so much for Animal Farm being a difference maker in this storyline. That pig must be rolling his eyes as he rolls in the mud reading this strip. We’re back down that long slippery slope to nothing. Its so bad you wonder whether this strip was intended to run a week ago, before the book assignment. And Rubin forgot about it and is just now running it, so out of sequence is the mindset of the characters. Maybe Molly threw in the towel about her synchronized skating  (and for that matter the softball team) and is just enjoying her role in life as the president of the Tool Cool Club. Who the hell is this committee anyway? I cant believe any high school male would get that excited about getting a button like that. And does Tyler even know about this TC shit? His first question should be — ‘What committee?’

Even Molly’s logic is flawed. Hey — writing screenplays is a BYPRODUCT of ones education, just like doing a science project is a byproduct of getting schooled in science and Applying that knowledge. So it aint too cool for school. TC buttons should go to kids who are so cocky they dont want to learn whats being taught and put the effort into the process. These 2 guys dont qualify at all– but Molly is such a fuckin dimwit she cant tell the difference. And she ordered more badges– I know the first batch was 50, so we will have 100 Milford students walking around campus on June 10 when everyone else is working on their summer tan, with these silly things that will be forgotton as soon as the next storyline commences. As some Spanish guy said -De Sooner De Better.

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Going Dutch at the Coffee Cantina?

Here at TWIM we’ve pretty much concluded Milford is in Michigan. While it’s true Michigan has some Dutch influences, I totally did not expect the Coffee Cantina to turn into a full-blown Amsterdam coffeeshop overnight. Had to run with the color version to confirm that the brownie was indeed a brownie. You know it’s a great brownie when you haven’t even taken a bite out of it. Contact high much?

Everyone (including myself) who had written Linda off as a loser who was willing to turn down a volley scholly because she wasn’t yet Olympian material can just hold that thought, at least for today. Skipping practice doesn’t necessarily mean you’ve given up on your sport (remember Allen Iverson?).

The less said about Mimi’s heavy-handed Animal Farm assignment, the better. I’m also disappointed that Mimi didn’t run ’em till they puked before convening Book Club, but if it leads to Molly and Nancy giving Linda a TCFS button for skipping volleyball practice to eat a hash brownie at the Coffee Cantina, I can live with it.

Barely Legal – I mean, Barely 100 Pages

Amazing how Mimi looks no older than her players now, innit?

It struck me a little odd yesterday that Mimi addressed her question to the team as a whole before singling out Molly and Nancy for the reading assignment.  Also odd that she mentioned Orwell during practice on Thursday but then the assignment comes after a game.  If this isn’t a continuity error on Rubin’s part, then shouldn’t we have seen time elapse between the practice and the game – time enough for the girls to wonder whether George Orwell was TCFS? (“He’s that freshman who made a big splash in Debate Club, right?”)

Hang in there, TWIM faithful. This has been a disappointing ride but it should be coming to an end soon. Tune in on Monday when Molly and Nancy ask each other, “So which one of us is the pig?”

Women Not At Work

Speaking of Australia, the group “Men at Work” was the inspiration behind today’s title, as some of you might have surmised.

And why not? The plot has gone from bad to hopeless. Not only did Linda Carr blow the game, with help from Molly Wonka and the Chocolate Button Factory, through their myopic view of teamwork, BUT NOW Mimi is handing her her luggage at the check-out gate.

Gang, as Robmize mentioned, nobody more than me believes in giving EVERYBODY a chance to play more than me, regardless of ability. Lordy, the run-ins I’ve had with churches, regardless of denomination (ALL GUILTY, none left out, trust me) , over the years because what they SAY about people getting a chance to play and what they DO are 2 different things.

That said (as far as I’m going with the church concept, in other words) , as long as a kid gave me 110% effort and tried to listen to what I ask, to the best of their ability, especially in Babe Ruth League Baseball, I shook the dude’s hand at the end of the game. That simple.

But handing Linda her Samsonite after a half-ass performance on the field is just the culmination of a Button Crusade gone awry. The pilot and the co-pilot crash-land the plane into a field somewhere, right on a pile of crushed automobiles because they couldn’t flush their petty differences down the airplane potty (plenty of room to dump doo doo like that, y’know) ? I hope the plane was insured.

Mimi, really, it’s called TEAMWORK. Rather than be a concierge for Milford Marriott Courtyard Suites in P1, why don’t you TAKE CHARGE and basically not tolerate this obvious breach of concern for the team? Because she’s hoppin’ on the next 747 and God knows where that’s going. Oh, Australia, I forgot. There’a convention in Brisbane. She’s the keynote speaker. How to Let Problems Affect You During The Game Rather Than Talk Them Out BEFORE First Pitch. I’ll catch the next flight out of Indianapolis so I can get an early seat.

 

This Memorial Day week, I would like to remember Leonard Thomas Hardin, my grandfather, who was a World War I veteran serving valiantly as a cook. A finer man cannot be found when it came to his services and sacrifices.

Then I would like to remember my step-father, Gabriel Feltner, Junior, a World War II veteran who proudly served in the Navy aboard the USS Merryvale. He fought in essentially 2 Iwo Jimas and received a generous GI Bill for his services. No argument from me.

Gang, where you can, take 5 minutes out of your day to thank a Veteran. If you can’t do that or are comfortable doing it differently, fine by me, but please, please, thank a Vet. They appreciate it so much and it makes our Nation stronger.

 

“Just stick the portmanteau on the bed. I’ll unpack later. Right now, I gotta take a bodacious dump. Here’s a fin for your troubles.”

“Gee, thanks, I can pay my AAA bill for the month. The John Conti packets are by the Mr. Coffee. Water is straight outta the faucet next to them.”

“Thank you.”

 

Oh, cry me a river in P2. So she blows the game because she didn’t care because she’s stuck with a U-17 Basketball squad that won’t be selected in next month’s NBA Draft? And they’re all from Uruguay? Yeah, travel can be kinda dicey between Montevideo and La Guardia this time of year. Can’t book a flight too early.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with dreaming big. This is America. But ya still gotta take care of business where you’re planted, something that wasn’t done against Madisom.

Really, if you don’t make the plays in Rockville, either cuz you can’t or won’t, and won’t seems to be the order of the day in the eyes of Pennywise the Clown, to whom Linda is spilling her guts to, what makes you think you’re gonna make ’em when they light the Olympic Torch? What are you going to do, pull some Matchlite Fluid out of your bra when the Torch doesn’t catch flame from your Zippo??? Not the time to be handing you your Samsonite.

 

Because I was taken a little aback by a headline about Felix Cavaliere, a member of the Young Rascals which basically stated “Felix Tells All!!!!!!!”, something that was startling but more than likely not earth-shattering, given their popularity with “Groovin'”, “Good Lovin'”, “How Can I Be Sure”, plus they were not noted for heavy controversy

Today’s headline from the Milford Enquirer

“Several In ICU After Rioting At The Milford Amphitheater For ‘The Mitch Miller Nostalgia Lane Tour de Brasilia ’19’ Rears Ugly Head!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Consternation traced to a few senior citizen couples going overboard while dancing to ‘Yellow Rose of Texas’.”

 

“I can jump higher than the water fountain!!!!!!!! I deserve another chance!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m going downstairs to the breakfast room and try to catch the Olympic Track coach before he leaves!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“You better watch your Lucky Charms intake, Sluggo, or you’ll have trouble getting over the water sprinkler!!!!!!!! And watch that flab, it almost took my nose off!!!!!!!!!”

“SHUT UP, FATS, don’t make me go psycho when I can clear the St. Louis Arch!!!!!!!!!

“Oh, sure, Sluggo, and the Eiffel Tower’s down the street, next to The Bucket Annex. Don’t strain an Achilles soaring the heights.”

“SHUT UP FATS!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Hey, you’re the one stuck with Men at Work at the track complex. Not my problem, Sluggo.”

 

Who can it be, messing up this plot.

Linda and Molly

Let it go down the pot

 

Who can they be now

Who can they be now

Who can they be now

 

I’ll fax Men at Work for the answer.

 

If ya dropped out of the Monday Night Co-Ed Industrial League, giving the Milford Foundry softball manager 2 weeks notice so he could buy some time to find a suitable replacement that can bat opposite-handed (hittin’ over the short porch in right field a bonus) and can still field cuz ya wanna concentrate on makin’ the U.S. Olympic Bowling team by takin’ extra practice, and Bud, down at Milford Lanes, ya might be a redneck.

Then there’s Gil. Yup, fresh out of the oven, ready with the bon mot to a question the TWIMers have answered the last few days.

(Sigh) Okay, so we’ll listen to Gil’s opinion but we’ll have to wait until tomorrow to find out what’s behind Door #3. In the end, I’ll cart of the GE Washer and Dryer that Carol Merrill is showing in Door #2.

 

 

 

 

 

Y’know, I just got wheelchaired out of Milford General, glad to have been released from the COPD machine monitoring your a-fib, among other afflictions that are too Greek or Latin to air over the radio, here in the parking lot ready to drive home when I hear The Bucket accusing the Milford Beverage Warehouse of profiteering off of the riding horse, Bronco Buckweiser, a service we provide for the kiddies up front while Daddy goes trottin’ off for his own share of The Good Life. For a penny, boys and girls have ridden on their own adventures and enabled customers to walk out of the store able to ride off into the sunset with girlie and a 24-pack of Bud in the same saddle.

Boy, the fill line some attornies will stoop to in order to get a Liquor License. The Bucket claimed we are raising our price at the horsey to a quarter to offset the Alcohol Transport Tax passed by the Milford City Works Commission, thereby keeping The Beer Institute of our backs. Boy, they’ve been taken for a ride all right and that one is worth more than a copper, several times over. At least, Bronco Buckweiser stops jumping up and down when your little Johnny or Janey is ready to get off. The other horse might wind up in court.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp here on behalf of Milford Beverage Warehouse, ready to set the record straight. Bronco Buckweiser is not for sale, except to The Brady Bunch and any kid thereafter and forthwith, and the damn contraption still costs a penny. I know, my son got one from the bums pitchin’ Lincolns in the alley in exchange for my son’s Joe Schlabotnick card that my son swiped out of Charlie Brown’s back pocket. Yeah, I’ll admit it was awful for my son to crush Charlie Brown’s idol but at least later on he went to Charlie Brown’s slumber party. They kissed and made up with no fondling involved. My kid’s rear end was unblemished from any seizures.

Can’t say the same for these cads who opt to play post office with a kid’s ride and to answer the ante to such debauched tomfoolery, The Warehouse is ridin’ to the rescue with these thirst-quenching price stoppers.

How ’bout a 24-Pack Michelob Ultra for $22.99, good at your next cookout with family and friends or if you want to engineer a slumber party of your own at, say the Milford Community Center gym? You can invite men AND women, in case anybody calls the cops on on unfounded suspicions and save a buck or two. Hell, I’ll run a nudist colony at the Community Center at those prices.

Then we have Samuel Adams in the 12-Pack for only $14.76 while a 12-Pack of Heineken can get through the Door Greeter’s merchandise checker’s radar for a steal at $13.53. Hooooeeeeyy, thank God the checker gun’s AAA batteries last longer than the Energizer Bunny.

Planning on watching the races and doin’ the OTB to boot? No problemo, The Warehouse is offering free cell phones for every Bulleit Bourbon purchased. Gotta have a phone handy while you’re sippin’ some of Kentucky’s finest, don’t you? You can do all that and still do a cannonball in your swimming pool. Man, makes me want to wheelchair to your party. Just don’t get the wheels wet.

And to show that there’s no hard feelings between us and The Bucket even if their legal team doesn’t know a riding horse from a tricycle, we are taking off 3 dollars, you heard right, 3 dollars off your next purchase of Gato Negro Cabernet Sauvignon if you’ll bring in a proof of purchase receipt from The Bucket. Bucket Mini-Cheeseburger, Bucket Chicken Broth, Bucket Borscht, Bucket Triple Fish Sandwich with extra Bucket Tartar Sauce, shoot, it doesn’t matter, if you ate it at The Bucket rather than Milford Wal-Mart Neighborhood Market Snack Bar, it is legal tender at The Warehouse. Man, me and Foster Brooks are ready to trade in our Bucket Spaghetti O’s platter with Fries receipt for a Menage a Trois Merlot Blanc.

Hey, come on in, the water’s fine. And so’s the horse. But you and your small fry will never know unless you stop by Milford Beverage Warehouse. And when you do, drop the copper in the machine, ride to help Lone Ranger rescue Tonto from the Trotskyites, and tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.

Gang, go at it. I’m going to help Linda with her free throws. There’s a Uruguayan who’s a dead ringer. Can never get enough practice.

 

 

“Sluggo, those have to be the worst concrete slabs Gil is using for trainers. How will he win the 1600 in those shoes?????”

“SHUT UP FATS!!!!!!!!! At least he’s wearing shoes in the park. Last time he slept on the park bench, he was barefoot as he was advising Luke Bunkin on some trader tips.”

 

 

 

“You serious, Coach. Sell the Milford Foundry stock now? Oops, sorry, didn’t mean to mash your toe.”

And yada yada yada.

Not gettin any better folks… I was not a big Seinfeld fan, but it was very well known as a show about nothing. I saw just enough episodes that I kinda get that. They dont really have a plot, its just a half hour of 4 characters screwing around every which way, and the best part, (for me anyway) was Jerrys comedy bits at the beginning and end of each show, where he’d make some vague connection to the action of the show. I remember one episode where he said ” If you’re watching something on TV, you’re missing something else.” Ever since then when I’d be forced to miss some show or game I would remember Jerrys words, and be comforted that nobody can be everywhere all the time. You do what you can, and everything else takes care of itself.

Well I have lost track of who all  these people are. Linda, David, Nancy, Molly…….I can name the Banana Splits easier then these bozos. .Too many characters in 1 plot who intertwine their nonsense about some abstract concept like TCFS. And maybe Linda and David THINK they did something cool. Thats all that counts. I’m just floored that 17-year-olds spend that much time on such BS. By now my friends would forget about the whole thing and be on to something thats more tangible, like what movie is playing or who the Bears should draft. One time my friend was talking about the foosball game he played the night before. 2 days later I brought it up, and he was like – “You’re still on that foosball”. But 2 days isnt like the weeks-long sludge this has become. Its a plot about nothing, and this time there’s no Jerry Seinfeld around to relieve the boredom.

What’s The Deal With Linda?

David and Linda started a conversation at The Bucket last week. The conversation continued on the phone over the weekend and now here we are at Milford High School picking up where we left off.

David is summoned via text (he has installed a customized font package on his phone’s messaging app) to meet Linda in the Media Center. I’d like to point out that the Milford High School still has actual books on shelves and subscribes to at least one print periodical. I’m going to assume that the copy of SPIN that Linda is reading is part of the Media Center’s collection. Would anybody buy their own copy of SPIN these days? Can you buy a copy of SPIN these days? (The answer to that question is no. SPIN has been online only since 2012.) Maybe the Milford High School Media Center is as frozen in time as many other aspects of MHS and Linda is currently leafing through the March 1989 of SPIN magazine, which features a cover story on Edie Brickell and New Bohemians.

With all the curious details out of the way, I now barely have the energy to untangle the main point. What is the deal with Linda? She was fired up about her teammates missing the scrimmage because they had other commitments. Her steady beau, David Walter, pointed out her hypocrisy since she has her own other commitments. She rankled at this, but they moved on.

Since then, all of the other commitments her teammates have been put under a microscope and evaluated for their uniqueness, or too cool for schoolness and this somehow led to the introduction of a stuffed rally hippo. This has somehow led Linda to again question her own too cool for schoolness and feel inadequate because her volleyball scholarship doesn’t measure up. She’s wondering if she’s just not that into volleyball anymore. Geez, what a predicament.

Well Linda, if you don’t want to listen to David’s straight advice, take a tip from Edie Brickell (by way of Popeye the Sailor Man): “What I am is what I am, you what you are or what?” That means do volleyball if you want or don’t do it if you don’t. I think, or at least that’s the “talk on the cereal box”.

Have any members of New Bohemians ever been heard from since then?

Edited to add, in response to Tim, that SPIN featured KISS on their cover several years later (August 1996)…Looks like one of those four covers, collect them all!! type deals.

“And we care because?” could be this blog’s motto

Well, that explains everything, doesn’t it?  The big “RIN” in the sign behind Andre’s head yesterday was short for “RINK,” which Milford has one of, apparently.  (Of course it does. How else could kids practice for skating at the Winter Blast in Central City? And why hasn’t ice hockey ever been a thing in Milford?)  Andre watched his little sister – odd hand gesture meant to signify “little” – skate and saw a group of synchronized skaters perform*. On his way home he got his cheek pierced and had that shark tooth he found at the beach on summer vacation mounted on a stud.

Oh, yeah, one of the synchronized skaters is also one of Mimi’s softball players.  Heaven forbid she prioritize something else over Milford High sportsball!  Prepare for multiple strips shaming poor Molly Hatchet off the ice and onto the diamond.

*I’m sorry, but every time I read “synchronized skating” I thought “synchronized swimming” and could only picture Harry Shearer and Martin Short in that old SNL skit.  Skate away, that’s all.

“The Sopranos? I Thought They Were The Chiffons.”

Where are we GOING with this??????????

I’m tempted to do another chorus of Zappa’s “Valley Girl” but I didn’t want to pull a Gil and beat a dead Marty or Principal Ek, since the latter’s already dead and anyway I get a sneakin’ suspicion that that wouldn’t do justice to what’s going on at the present moment.

And to add insult injury, we are flip-flopping between Milford’s school cafeteria and Barney’s Pub and Morrison’s Cafeteria or Milford Bowling Lanes Bar ‘n’ Grill or some generic upscale eatery that Gil and Mimi have chosen to air out their grievances concerning High School Athletic Association protocol. It doesn’t do justice to work these issues of Scrimmaging Procedures within the convenience of their own offices, naw, we gotta talk about lining up the umpires and settling any contract dispute (“I can make more umpiring Dagwood’s company team and they suspend a guy 2 games plus he gets his pay docked an hour by Mr. Dithers if he gets ejected.”) while Freddy Mercury is serving them Steak Flambe Au Jus avec Mashed Potatoes ‘n’ Gravy (blanche, bien sur) and Collard Greens.

BTW, how can I tell it’s the cafeteria in P1? The cafeteria lady, should we broaden the scope and get a panoramic view would likely not be in her Jordache jeans based upon her upper wear. Looks like classic white linen only a Mudlark Cafetria Lady could appreciate and subsequently don. Our high school cafeteria ladies didn’t dare wear this haute cuisine of the school cafeteria world. Linens made by starving children in China in a sweatshop somewhere in the slums of Shanghai have heightened theimage that is the Mudlark Ccafeteria Lady. Dr. Pearl will not wear this at the Principal’s Convention in Seattle. Ms. Rizk doesn’t type sleazy stories about Marty and Peaches at Mudlark Lake in those linens. And it’s hard for me to imagine Miss Cafetreia Lady for the Gil Moment at Milford Natural Area hunting bison with Shaw and Gil. No way does she ladle Hormel Sauerbraten Hash that are in all the compartments in the cafeteria line (the 14,000 bowls of chipped Jello is probably one compartment over) while wearing Alice Kramden attire. And did you ever see Freddy Mercury in those linens shoulder a full tray of dinner plates ready to be laid down at a random table at Barney’s, the majority of the plates SPAM????????? (Hey, it’s hash in reverse) ????????????

“Enjoy your Kartoffelsalat mit Huhn Gebackt und Brotchen, ganz Vollstandig mit Mosellewein with a side order of Spam and Dorito’s Cool Ranch.”

As the horse on Ren and Stimpy would say “Nope, I don’t think I like Spam.”

 

Giving a shout-out to Bethany Bennett of Louisville, Kentucky. Though she uses a walker, you hardly notice because she’s a real go-getter. She gets up EARLY to go to work and always does so with a smile. She represents America by her her hard work and determination and her decision not to let setbacks get her down. Gang, we need more people like her. I always offer to help her get in her place of employment but she always refuses and gets in by herself, and then some. I salute you, Bethany. Give her respect, Gang. She’s earned it.

 

Then the word “family” intrigues me. Oh, brother. I really don’t want to go into Mammoth Cave but I’m bringing a flashlight if Gil is twisting my arm. Researching the word “family” while looking at cave drawings with a lantern filled with Matchlite fluid is as exciting as watching Luhm’s wax dry on the Mudlark basketball floor. Trying to sift through the plot like you were sifting through the channels of the cave with no light source being like trying to decipher Gilplots is bad enough but I’m packing plenty of Eveready batteries. And plenty of Bucket Fries. It’s a cave, the gas won’t escape, trust me.

Munching on my Bucket Livercheeseburger, I started asking myself (I’m in  a cave, remember?) , what ELSE could be going on? What would pique people’s interest while they’re plunging in the buffet table at Barney’s, discussing the Cubs’ chances for a repeat this year, or while the baseball team is spending another useless moment in the dugout, par for the course in the world of Thorpiverse in ANY sport,  before waiting their turn to practice hitting off the machine (after we’d seen Meadowlark twirl the baseball a couple of weeks ago) and then head to Rome where one of the Hardy Boys is sitting in the mezzanine level of the Colosseum, all 3 panels in different locations with one thing in common: The hot topic concerning the 3 girls whose reason for not being able to make scrimmage was non-athletic in scope. You want some more hash? Looks like the hippie lady in the background is ready to shovel it on her tray.

Then it hit me. It’s The Chiffons. Or The New Chiffons. Back for another Comeback Tour after 50+ years of singing and performing, they couldn’t make the scrimmage because they couldn’t back out of their contract. What happens when Mimi gets desperate and gives basketball the shaft, people drop out due to lack of activity. Then you start groping for players and going after the first one in the hallway. The Chiffons were stopping in Milford to ask Luhm for directions to the New Thayer Amphitheatre. Next thing you know, they’re shagging balls for Mimi. They might not get thrown to the lions, even if it is the Colosseum, but can’t blame ’em for avoiding a  nasty lawsuit over breach of contract. Mimi, you not only should plan ahead next time but you really shouldn’t impede nostalgia. They got a juke box at Barney’s don’t they? “He’s So Fine” one of the selections???? No Tchaikovsky’s “Symphony No. 5”? Case closed.

 

Now allow me a little backdrop. The record company for The Chiffons sued George Harrison of the Beatles because it argued that “My Sweet Lord” sounded too similar to “He’s So Fine”. Now, in fairness, Led Zeppelin were guilty in the first degree, “Whole Lotta Love” and “When The Levee Breaks” having been performed several decades in the past as Blues standards. Quite a few Blues musicians got a generous out-of-court settlement from the group.

But The Beatles were notorious for writing their own material. Even Ringo, not a songwriter by any stretch of the imagination, weighed in with some key contributions. And The Beatles sued ANYBODY for stealing their songs. BUT they were very generous in helping a group get started in their musical career by giving them a song. “A World Without Love” by Peter and Gordon and “Come and Get It” by Badfinger come to mind.

That in mind, they made an out-of-court settlement where George agreed to pay a certain amount and the record company representing The Chiffons agreed to let George keep playing “My Sweet Lord.” Personally opining that George or any other Beatle would NEVER plagiarize another group, I reluctantly would agree.

 

So with that in mind, Joe Friday and Bill Gannon have come to sort this out.

This is the city. Milford, USA. It has plenty of stores, schools, houses, and parks. Plenty to do in Milford. All legal. But when some truant runs afoul of the law, that’s where we come in. My name’s Friday. I carry a badge.

10:22AM. It was Tuesday in Milford. It was cold and crisp. The weatherman predicted warmer temperatures by the end of the week. We were working the International and Domestic Copyright Infringement detail. The boss is Captain Andrews.

We were transferred to Rome, Italy because there were unconfirmed reports of illegal recording and wiretapping of another man’s music, allegedly by a Milford connection. Captain Andrews handed us our flight tickets out of Milford International Airport and we were on our way across the pond.

1:45PM. We arrived in Rome and got to the Marriott di Roma ASAP. I had jet lag something fierce and Gannon ate too much airplane chicken and upchucked for 2 hours in the hotel room toilet. We didn’t call room service for 5 hours until the stench died.

7:48PM. We got in our rental car from Alamo and headed to The Colosseum. We had sent a SWAT team last week to bust an illegal lion trafficking operation, thinking the bad seed had left the building like Elvis. Elvis sounded horrible singing “Suspicious Minds” while the Christians were getting thrown to the carnivores and it had to stop. But while Elvis continued his tour in Baton Rouge, the bad seed was still in the ground.

We had to be careful. When in Rome, do as the Romans do. The New Chiffons were using The Colsseum to secretly record George Harrison’s records. Nothing was sacred. “All Things Must Pass.” “Cloud Nine.” “Somewhere in England.” You name it, they were putting it on platinum. We could have busted them right then and there for singing “Octupus’s Garden” but that was Ringo’s song. The tear gas would have to wait. We had to move fast, but slow.

9:12PM. We didn’t want the Romans and the rest of the Senate to suspect we were cops. Seneca and Cicero would tip off the 3 girls that Friday and Gannon were back in town, even if that town wasn’t built in a day. And they weren’t kidding. Just try asking a cabbie, using your Fodor’s Italian in 10 Days, Give or Take 24 Hours, for directions from Alamo to the Colosseum without having to pay toll across the Tiber.

So we scooted over to Burger King for a Whopper and Martini & Rossi. We weren’t supposed to drink on the job but you didn’t drink the water. Tasted like Lassie piss. Later, we’d sample the Thai Veggie Stir Fry Pan Pizza at Noble Roman’s which was located across the street from Vatican City. We didn’t want to blow our cover.

“Hey, Joe!!!!!!!!! Hey, Bill!!!!!!!!!”

Trouble was already in our rear-view mirror.

“Awright, punk, how’d you manage to swim across the ocean? Don’t you boys have homework?”

“My lab’s completed and not due ’til Friday and my 3-page essay on John Jay for American History has already been turned in.”

“And my Geometry class problems are completed and I got an ‘A’ for constructing the Bridge of Sighs without a compass and straightedge.”

“That’s in Venezia, you losers!!!!!!!!!! Now come clean or I’ll kick your ass straight over the Adriatic!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Those girls ARE recording Harrison’s music. We slipped security a 20 and got an earful. Man, the dude’s heavy with his religion. Should’ve heard “This is Love”. “When we use the power provided, free to everyone-”

“Cut the concert and get tot the point!!!!!!!!!!! You sound like Slim Whitman!!!!!!!!!!”

“Once they’re done cutting the record, they send it to a factory within St. Peter’s Basilica. While the Pope is holding Mass, “All Those Years Ago” and “Crackerbox Palace” are mass-produced, pardon the pun-”

Gannon steps in, keeping Friday from hitting one of the Hardy Boys with a wine bottle

“Okay, son, enough comedy. So what happened?”

“Then they ship them to places like Basilica di Santa Maria Maggiore where there’s some catacombs. They wait until there’s rioting in the streets after another Papal decree, then they make their move to smuggle them to a United Airlines plane and stack ’em in the luggage portion of the plane.”

“How the Hell do they get past the Customs at the Aeroporto di Roma!!!!!!!!!! You’re gonna tell me they lug crates of records up a chute next to someone’s Samsonite of Hanes and sport coats!!!!!!!!!!”

“Simple. Some of the Customs officials are Chiffon and Beatles fans. Plenty of cash supplied from a Swiss bank account in Geneve and the crates are put on a C-130 next to arms Oliver North smuggled to Nicaragua. Just inventory to the Logistics lieutenant.”

“I vote Republican, jackass!!!!!!!!! Watch your mouth!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“The rest they store in the Papal Archbasilica di St. John Lateran. “When We Was Fab” next to a saint buried in a vault below the sanctuary is the last place la polizia would look.”

“I don’t want any advice on how a police officer, Italian or American, should conduct their investigation!!!!!!!! Now scram!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Oh, and you dropped your copy of the rental contract with Alamo. Better be careful, they might smuggle that and “From Behind That Locked Door”.

“GET A HAIRCUT AND GET OUT OF TOWN!!!!!!!!!!!” I’ll run you in on Milford Penal Code Article 364, Section 45, Clause 58 “Intent to Impede an Officer While Conducting International Affairs in the Line of Duty!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“You heard the man, boys. Smuggle your locks and at least get to Paris. You can miss a day of school before we nail you for truancy. BTW, how are you going to get back?”

“You never find out. Thorpiverse just zaps us there and we’re there. Kinda how Friday gets his own haircut at Milford Style Shop.”

Friday pulls out his Sig Sauer but the Hardy Boys are already zapped to Greenland.

 

A shout-out to Belinda Hawkins of Louisville, Kentucky for her courageous stance against bullying concerning her grandson, Jose. She is going to home-school him and do it her way. She worked several years in convenience stores, many of those years as an assistant manager. She KNOWS the meaning of work and can instill that into Jose. The reality is, schools are going through trying times but Belinda is leading the charge in doing something about it. Way to take the initiative, Belinda. You have my blessing to work with Jose. Never give up. You both are too smart for that. You represent America.

 

All righty then. Let’s get out of Rome and approach it from another angle. I’m thinking they indeed have a contract, but a much graver one, i.e., The Sopranos. I know Gil should step down as coach but do The Sopranos have to leave New Jersey, let alone involve 3 girls, to make their point? Why drag them into this, not to say they couldn’t flash a weapon (see “Prizzi’s Honor”) ? As macho as they were, it was hard for me to fathom  getting mixed up with the female Harlem Globetrotters.

Put in perspective. Anyone remember when Doonesbury went caustic on Frank Sinatra??? Don’t get me wrong, I love Frankie with my life but those comics of him at the gambling tables were a riot (“That’s DOCTOR Sinatra to you, Chiffons!!!!!!!!!”) . And his mob dealings were painfully obvious.

And remember Doonesbury showing Frankie posing with mafiosos in a photograph,  many of them part of a family??? The Gambinos, I’m thinkin’ but God knows. Anyway, let’s try squeezing those 3 girls  in the picture, in fact why not have them pose to the left and right of Frankie. What better way to show loyalty and respect (the mafia, remember) if P1 is going to harp on family matters? If it’s that clandestine, it’s hard for me to think they’re talking about The Brady Bunch

“Here’s the story

Of Lou Gambino

…the  lower left in curls.”

 

Besides, I don’t think the other mafiosos in the picture would mind 3 girls from Milford (family matters, right?) displaying their pearly whites along with these rough-hewns. As long as these 3 girls aren’t Corleones, of course.

For that matter, I wouldn’t be surprised if that photo got taken in the gym after practice. Perhaps Mimi doesn’t mind these thugs observing practice as long as the 3-point-circle doesn’t get dynamited.  Ehhhhhh, better not go that far. Especially when they didn’t play basketball. It was just IM’s But they still took the picture. And we got a credible explanation why there was no basketball. Priceless.

“Sonny, I thought I told you to dynamite the boys gym. I ain’t fightin’ the Gambinos in the bleachers. I’m too old for that.”

“Sorry, dad. We wired Gil’s office. The Gambinos won’t come around as long as there’s no leadership.”

“You do me honor, my son. Now order me some Bucket Linguini.”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Emerson, Lake, and Palmer Estate Sues The Chiffons Over Copyright Infringement To ‘Pictures at an Exhibition!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!'”

sub headline

“Estate points out that ‘Sweet Talkin’ Guy’ sounds similar to ‘The Hut of Baba Yaga.'”

 

Today’s Women’s History Month entry is Marie Curie. Polish by birth, she eventually moved to Paris, partly to escape persecution, partly to encounter better opportunity. She became a professor while there and in the process discovered polonium and radium, 2 elements off the Periodic Table. Her brilliant mind and constant search for the truth through diligent research earned her the distinction of being the first person to earn a Nobel Prize in 2 different fields, Chemistry and Physics. She also fell in love with and married her lab partner, Pierre Curie, for which they enjoyed a health and productive relationship. Please join me in saluting a woman who coined the term ‘radioactivity’ and made great strides to this world by leaving iot a better place through her work.

 

Comment way, Gang. I think it’s safe that they’re not The Chiffons or that they’re not at The Colosseum in P3 with a contract out on Gil. But I’ve been wrong before.

 

11:23PM. We made our move.

“…forgetting all we have, isn’t it a pity…”

SSSSSSSSSSSSSTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

Cough, cough,

“Don’t shoot!!!!!!!!!!!! Don’t shoot!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“All right, Gannon, read them their rights!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Can we include the Dragnet theme on ‘Living in the Material World?'”

“You can make all the records you want where you’re going!!!!!!!!!!! Papa Bader makes plenty of ‘Abbey Road!!!!!!!!!!”

 

The Horse at The Bucket eating Bucket Fries.

“Nope, too salty. Gil sprayed ‘Afro-Sheen’ all over them. Don’t think I like ’em.”