Randy Twizzle

The Hotel Flanders seems to have been a good place for ending it all

Does he say who else was in the band? Well he does mention Miles and Cannonball

I have a cassette recording of Walter Johnson working a complete game as a radio announcer for the Senators in early September 1939. Strangely enough he also doubled as the stadium PA announcer; at different points in the game he goes off the radio mike in order to make announcements over the PA system. He also plugs personal appearances he's making at Washington supermarkets.

For those who care I found the Dave Barry Column: So we went to New York City for some urban excitement, which began when we saw our hotel. To avoid hurt feelings, I will call it by a made-up name, "The Hotel Shpennsylvania." It's in midtown Shmanhattan, across the street from Shmadison Square Garden. The Hotel Shpennsylvania was apparently built around the time that North America became a separate continent. I am told that, at one time, it was quite elegant. Of course, I am also told that, at one time, Elizabeth Taylor was a virgin. Our first whiff of the Hotel Shpennsylvania experience came when we entered the lobby, which is furnished in a functional yet practical style, consisting of: a floor. There is more seating provided on the lunar surface than in the lobby of the Hotel Shpennsylvania. This leaves plenty of room to stand, which is what we did for quite a while, in a check-in line approximately the length of the Great Wall of China, but not moving as fast. If you have a loved one who mysteriously disappeared years ago and has not been heard from since, you should consider the possibility that this person is simply attempting to check in to the Hotel Shpennsylvania. The good news was, we finally got a room. The bad news was, it was room 436. If you ever get a chance to stay in this room, I advise you to say: "Thanks, but I'd prefer a Dumpster, if there's one available." I say this because room 436 is a very Spartan. I use the word "Spartan" not only in the sense of "austere," but also in the sense of "last renovated in 500 B.C." The walls, ceiling and floor appeared to be made of compressed grime; you got the feeling that if you took a damp cloth and started wiping the walls, you would wipe a hole right into the next room. These walls had no decoration of any kind, unless you count stains. One of the window shades had fallen down, revealing a sweeping panoramic view of: a wall. There were no chairs. There were two sad old beds with mattresses that felt like they were stuffed with dead squid, and a battered desk with a sign on it informing us — I am not making this up — that new furniture had been ordered for the room, but it had not arrived yet. This sign appeared to be several years old. When you turned on the bathtub taps, what came out looked like some kind of weak soup. Maybe this was a hotel selling point ("All Rooms With Hot and Cold Running Broth!"). Of course we should have marched down to the desk and demanded a new room, or even checked out. But we did not, for two solid reasons: (1) We didn't want to wait in the lobby line again, and (2) We are shmorons. So instead we went out for the evening. Then, like characters in a bad horror movie who, against all common sense, go down into the dark basement, we returned to room 436. We enjoyed a restful night until about 1 a.m., when the couple next door returned to their room. This couple was really hitting it off, if you know what I mean. I did not realize that it was physically possible for humans to hit it off that many times in one night. We could hear them clearly, because compressed grime does not block sound well, and they were hitting it off with intensity, passion, and what sounded like at least four head of cattle. During those brief periods when the couple was resting, smoking cigarettes, watering the livestock, etc., we would listen to the people in the room on the other side, who apparently were in town for the International Convention of Loud Talkers With Insomnia. They were having a fine time, the kind of time when everything is so hilarious that everybody must repeat it at least four times. A distinct aroma drifting through the grime made us wonder if they were using shmarijuana, but of course that would be illegal, even in New York. Whatever it was, it quieted them down for brief periods, during which the couple on the other side would rouse the steers again. Before we knew it, it was dawn. Other than that, we had a fine time in New York, a truly great city with some of the world's best museums, theaters, restaurants and shopping. Some day we will go back and actually see these things. On this trip, we mainly napped. When we do go back, we won't stay at the Hotel Shpennsylvania. We'll stay somewhere farther from the "heart of the action." Such as Shmontana.

It's been an overpriced tourist trap for years. A few years ago I visited an old college roomate who was staying there and I was appalled at the condition of the place. And it takes a lot to appall me. Dave Barry once wrote a column about a disasterous weekend there.

One of my prized possessions growing up was a copy of his book "The Establishment is Alive and Well and Living in Washington", autographed by Buchwald, wishing me a happy 14th birthday. My brother, a college student in DC at the time went up to Buchwald's office on Pennsylvania Avenue and he was gracious enough to sign it after my brother told him that his little brother was a big fan of his column.

Sorry I can't help you to upload videos and I resent being called a dope.

Watch out NYC, one of our buffoonish NJ assemblymen is out to take your money

The boss man over at bixbeiderbecke.com has been lobbying for years for a Bix stamp. I don't know much about stamp technology but a gin flavored stamp would be nice.

Looks like Randy wins the prize; the radio just said it was from a chemical facility along the Jersey shore. As for my original theory, they are saying that a temperature inversion yesterday morning (hot air on top of cold instead of the other way around) trapped the odor close to the ground. Looks like it was wind driven after all. Read the thread again. This is what I wrote in the first place, except they think it came from Secaucus - not Bayway. Sorry, once the prize has been awarded it can not be retracted. The last thing I want to do is to rob a fellow New Jerseyan of his rightful prize in predicting the source of an objectionable odor. Give it to 7/4

TRENTON, N.J. (AP) -- Most people wouldn't call those with mental illnesses ''idiots'' -- but the New Jersey Constitution still does. Senate President Richard J. Codey on Monday proposed removing the archaic language, inserted in 1844, through a constitutional amendment. The measure would have to be approved by both houses of the Legislature and by voters in November. ''This is yet another big step toward removing the stigma of mental illness,'' said Codey, who has been an advocate of the mentally ill since his wife suffered postpartum depression 22 years ago. Codey wants to change a section of the state constitution that addresses who is eligible to vote, saying: ''No idiot or insane person shall enjoy the right of suffrage.'' The amendment would delete the ''idiot or insane person'' language and replace it with ''person who has been adjudicated by a court of competent jurisdiction to lack the capacity to understand the act of voting.'' Luke Koppisch, a coordinator with the New Jersey Developmental Disabilities Council, which brought the idea to Codey to sponsor, said the language is insulting. ''It harkens back to an era when people with disabilities were treated like second-class citizens,'' he said. Six other state constitutions -- Arkansas, Iowa, Kentucky, Mississippi, New Mexico and Ohio -- also contain the ''idiots and insane'' language pertaining to voting rights, according to the Bazelon Center for Mental Health Law in Washington, D.C.

When all is said and done, they'll find some way to blame it all on New Jersey.

I believe there might have been a regular posting in the Voice. That street (Bond Street?) was totally deserted at night. Desolate. Now there is probably a Gap there! There were also some listings in the Times as seen in these assorted "Events Today" notices from 1973 and 74

I'm terrible at remembering names and labels, but it was a five LP Earl Hines box set purchased at one of those down market stores like Disc-o-mat for all of $5 in the early 80s.

My ex-wife used to refer to my love for jazz as "Randy's sick sick perversion." When we were dating I once took her to a Cecil Taylor concert at Symphony Space. After 20 minutes she rushed the stage screaming obscenities and had to be forcibly removed from the hall. During our first year of marriage I once came home early from work and caught her scratching my LPs with a can opener. Whenever a jazz musician's obituary appeared in the NY Times she would scribble "GOOD RIDDANCE" in red ink across the article and put it under my pillow. Then things really started going downhill...

I think my New Year's Resolution just became to stay the fuck away from wherever you are!

Here's the original NY Times review

Here's an answer from: http://www.sagecraft.com/puppetry/questions.html#berternie Are Sesame Street's Bert and Ernie named for Bert the cop and Ernie the cabdriver in Frank Capra's "It's a Wonderful Life"? Jerry Juhl, head writer for the Muppets for many years responded to a statement in San Francisco Chronicle writer Jon Carroll's column that Bert and Ernie were named for Bert the cop and Ernie the cabdriver in Frank Capra's "It's a Wonderful Life." Jerry Juhl writes: I was the head writer for the Muppets for 36 years and one of the original writers on "Sesame Street." The rumor about "It's a Wonderful Life" has persisted over the years. I was not present at the naming, but I was always positive it was incorrect. Despite his many talents, Jim had no memory for details like this. He knew the movie, of course, but would not have remembered the cop and the cabdriver. I was not able to confirm this with Jim before he died, but shortly thereafter I spoke to Jon Stone, Sesame Street's first producer and head writer and a man largely responsible for the show's format. (Jon, sadly, is no longer with us either.) He assured me that Ernie and Bert were named one day when he and Jim were studying the prototype puppets. They decided that one of them looked like an Ernie, and the other one looked like a Bert. The movie character names are purely coincidental.

Which town would have produced more interesting music, Bedford Falls or Pottersville? One was a sleepy white bread community and the other a wide open honky tonk town. Let's not be so quick to condemn old man Potter. I bet some swinging bands played in Pottersville while Bedford Falls probably had to settle for Mickey Mouse outfits playing country club dances. But then my favorite character has always been Violet Bick, the town slut.