rdaybell

March 27, 1958: They Say Goofy Is a Fellow Traveler

Posted on March 27, 2024March 20, 2024 by rdaybell

Nikita Khrushchev was elevated to top commie in the Soviet Union on March 27, 1958. His Cold War relationship with President Eisenhower and the United States was a complex one, certainly more so than the Ego War between the current Russian leader and his previous U.S. bro-hug counterpart.

The following year Khrushchev was in the U.S. for a summit meeting with Eisenhower. At the Soviet leader’s request, a visit to Hollywood was arranged. Khrushchev and his wife arrived in Los Angeles, where the day started with a tour of the Twentieth Century Fox Studios in Hollywood and a visit to the sound stage of Can-Can. Meeting stars Shirley MacLaine and Juliet Prowse pleased the roly-poly dictator even though he had to nyet a chance to dance with MacLaine (probably something to do with the Siberian stare coming from Mrs. K) A lunch hosted by Frank Sinatra was also a big success even though Sinatra didn’t sing “That Old Bolshevik Magic,” as Nikita requested.

The day headed downhill when Twentieth Century Fox President Spyros P. Skouras, who wore his anticommunism on his sleeve, got into a bit of a who-will-bury-whom brouhaha with the Russian leader who was known for his temper tantrums. Shortly afterward, it began to look as though a nuclear exchange were imminent. Meeting Frank Sinatra was nice, but who Nikita really wanted to meet was Mickey Mouse. His American hosts told him it couldn’t happen. Security concerns. Perhaps he’d like to see Cape Canaveral, the White House War Room, the Strategic Air Command. But no Disneyland. Nicky exploded. “And I say, I would very much like to go and see Disneyland. But then, we cannot guarantee your security, they say. Then what must I do? Commit suicide? What is it? Is there an epidemic of cholera there or something? Or have gangsters taken hold of the place that can destroy me?”

Khrushchev left Los Angeles the next morning, and the Cold War returned to deep freeze.

Put a Cork in It

Back through the centuries wine lovers never aged their wines; they consumed it quickly before it went bad. Then in the 18th century, British glassblowers began to make bottles with narrow necks for wine that made airtight storage possible. Corks were used to seal the bottles. This quickly led to the invention of one of the dandiest little gizmos ever devised — the corkscrew. The design was based on a similar device used to clean muskets. The first corkscrews were T-shaped devices that twisted into the cork and after a certain amount of pulling extracted the cork. Corkscrews were first patented in England and France, then on March 27, 1860, M. L. Byrn of New York City received an American patent.

Since then, hundreds of corkscrews have been designed of every shape, size and mechanics you can imagine — single-lever, double-winged, air pump, electric, mounted. Naturally there are corkscrew books, corkscrew clubs, and corkscrew collectors, helixophiles.

MARCH 26, 47 BC: WITH A LITTLE BIT OF LUCK

Posted on March 26, 2024March 16, 2024 by rdaybell

Ptolemy XIII was Pharaoh of Egypt from 51 to 47 BC (remember we’re counting backwards here), his reign pretty much demonstrating the bad luck associated with the number thirteen (in fact he could have been nicknamed Ptolemy the Unlucky or Friday the XIII).

Ptolemy XIII succeeded his father Ptolemy XII, becoming co-ruler by marrying Cleopatra who was his older sister at the time. She was Cleopatra VII, but she was the Cleopatra we all know about — the one of Antony and Caesar and the asp and all that. Since XIII was only 11 at the time, he had a regent — and should you be thinking about the regent’s duties vis-à-vis Cleopatra, we’ll point out that the regent’s name was Pothinus the Eunuch.

Still with us?

Cleopatra, it turns out, was a bit of a grandstander, strutting about as Queen, putting her image on coins, and generally hogging the Egyptian spotlight. Thus in 48 BC, XIII and his eunuch tried to depose her, but she ran off to Syria and raised herself an army.

Enter Roman general Pompey, seeking sanctuary from Julius Caesar. XIII pretended to welcome Pompey but had him murdered instead. When Caesar arrived, XIII gave him Pompey’s head as a little welcoming gift. Caesar was unimpressed and took Cleopatra as his welcoming gift instead, giving XIII a cold Roman shoulder and killing his eunuch for good measure.

While Caesar and Cleopatra kept busy trysting the night away, XIII in cahoots with another sister (it’s great to be able to toss in another sibling when things are beginning to slow down) tried again to dump Cleopatra.

XIII and his other sister were no match for Caesar and Cleopatra and in the ensuing Battle of the Nile, XIII was forced to flee. Unfortunately, Ptolemy the Unlucky was drowned as he attempted to cross the Nile.

MARCH 25, 2024: WAITER, THERE’S A LOBSTER ON MY WAFFLE

Posted on March 25, 2024March 9, 2024 by rdaybell

Today is International Waffle Day, a tradition that is celebrated worldwide but mostly in Sweden. It’s a day to enjoy – guess what? – eating waffles. The day may have arisen out of confusion. Waffle Day in Swedish, Våffeldagen, sounds a lot like Our Lady’s Day,Vårfrudagen, (you really have to be on a street in Stockholm to get the full effect), a Christian holiday also known as Annunciation (the third Thursday after Pronunciation), when the Archangel Gabriel told the Virgin Mary she was pregnant. Mary was understandably upset and did what any virgin would do upon being told she was pregnant – stuffed herself with waffles. Waffle Day also coincides with the beginning of Spring, another traditional day for eating waffles in Sweden. Therefore, if you see a Swede eating waffles today, you don’t know if it’s religious or secular or just hunger.

More interesting facts:

Waffles were made with cheese and herbs in ancient Greece.

The familiar grid pattern of today’s waffles originated in the Middle Ages. Some waffles had fancier designs such as coats of arms, landscapes and portraits of Middle Age people.

Waffles were so popular that they were even sold from street carts (by strange looking men who eventually switched to selling chestnuts and large pretzels).

In the late 1800’s, Thomas Jefferson returned from France with a waffle iron. It’s unclear how he got it through security.

Many folks in Britain celebrate International Waffle Day by eating rutabagas which are known there as Swedes. There is no International Rutabaga Day.

There is, however, a Lobster Newburg Day – and it’s today!

Lobster Newburg, lobster with a sherry and cognac infused, egg-thickened cream sauce, was first served at New York’s Delmonico’s in the 1870s. Delmonico’s was not only the first formal dining restaurant in the United States, it was the first to serve hamburger, the creator of Baked Alaska, the creator of Eggs Benedict, and of course the creator of Lobster Newburg. A waffle topped with Lobster Newburg, anyone?

The Lobster Quadrille (from Alice in Wonderland)

“Will you walk a little faster?”
Said a whiting to a snail,
“There’s a porpoise close behind us,
Treading on my tail. ”
See how eagerly the lobsters
And the turtles all advance!
They are waiting on the shingle –
Will you come and join the dance?
So, will you, won’t you, won’t you,
Will you, won’t you join the dance?
Will you, won’t you, will you,
Won’t you, won’t you join the dance?

“You can really have no notion
How delightful it will be
When they take us up and throw us,
With the lobsters, out to sea! ”
But the snail replied, “Too far, too far!”
And gave a look askance –
Said he thanked the whiting kindly,
But he would not join the dance.
So, would not, could not, would not,
Could not, would not join the dance.
Would not, could not, would not,
Could not, could not join the dance.

“What matters it how far we go?”
His scaly friend replied,
“There is another shore, you know,
Upon the other side.
The further off from England
The nearer is to France –
Then turn not pale, beloved snail,
But come and join the dance.

Will you, won’t you, will you,
Won’t you, will you join the dance?
Will you, won’t you, won’t you,
Will you, won’t you join the dance?

Will you, won’t you, will you,
Won’t you, won’t you join the dance?
Will you, won’t you, will you,
Won’t you, won’t you join the dance?

MARCH 24, 1152: Oh My God, Not the Third Degree of Consanguinity

Posted on March 24, 2024March 16, 2024 by rdaybell

Eleanor of Aquitaine was a teenager, a bit of a handful, beautiful and wild and, when her father died in 1137 leaving her the entire duchy of Aquitaine, the richest 15-year-old in France. She was immediately placed under the “protection” of the crown and pledged in marriage to the newly-crowned King Louis VII.

Louis had been raised to be a monk but when his older brother died, he ended up king. And as the saying goes “you can take the boy out of the monastery, but you can’t take the monastery out of the boy” (except the saying went in French). As a result, Eleanor was rather disappointed in the consummation department. She is quoted as saying “I thought I was wed to a king, now I find I am wed to a monk.” To show her pique, she gave Louis no son and heir.

Fifteen years passed, and Louis became convinced that God was punishing him for marrying a third cousin once removed. A church court consulted a dusty rule book and found a convenient grounds for annulment — a third degree of consanguinity, marrying a third cousin once removed. (In case you were wondering, there were seven degrees.) The court granted an annulment on March 24, 1152.

Bye bye Eleanor and bye bye duchy of Aquitaine, making it the most expensive divorce ever. Louis remarried and eventually got a son. Eleanor quickly got herself another monarch, Henry II of England.

Oh My God II: Not the Six Levels of Kevin Bacon

For anyone who’s unfamiliar with this most trivial pursuit created back in the ’90’s for folks who had absolutely nothing to do, its premise is that actor Kevin Bacon is pretty much everywhere in the movie world and, starting with any other actor, you can work your way co-star by co-star to him in a series of joint appearances. For example: Eleanor of Aquitaine was portrayed by Katherine Hepburn in The Lion in Winter. Katherine Hepburn co-starred with Humphrey Bogart in The African Queen. Humphrey Bogart starred in The Caine Mutiny with Fred MacMurray. Fred MacMurray appeared with Shirley Maclaine in The Apartment. Shirley Maclaine and John Lithgow appeared together in Terms of Endearment. And John Lithgow played the anti-dancing daddy in Footloose starring (applause) Kevin Bacon. Your turn.

MARCH 23, 1857: Mr. Otis Has No Regrets

Posted on March 23, 2024March 12, 2024 by rdaybell

American inventor Elisha Otis had planned to join the California gold rush to find his fortune. As it turned out, he found his fortune closer to home, in the ups and downs of the business world — literally. Otis had devised a “hoist machine,” a fairly simple affair that would prevent a rising platform from falling if the ropes that held it broke.

Otis opened his small business in Yonkers, New York, which barely sputtered along until he came up with a plan to have P. T. Barnum publicly demonstrate his device at America’s first world’s fair in New York City in 1854. An open elevator platform was installed at the center of the Crystal Palace exposition hall upon which Otis hoisted himself to the ceiling by means of a rope. There to the oohs and aahs of the crowd below, he produced a sword and cut the rope. The platform plummeted downward, but Otis’ safety brake engaged and brought the elevator to a dramatic stop. “All safe, gentlemen, all safe,” Otis declared triumphantly.

On March 23, 1857, he installed the first commercial elevator, in a department store in New York City, and the elevator industry was launched. Then came passenger elevators which in turn allowed buildings to rise higher and higher, from five or six stories max to a hundred or more.

The ten-story Home Insurance Company Building in Chicago, serviced by four passenger elevators, was followed in 1913 by the Woolworth Building with 26 elevators and the Empire State Building in 1931 with 58. Automatic self-service elevators came to Dallas, Texas, in 1950. Twenty years later, elevators in Chicago’s John Hancock Center barreled between floors at 1,800 feet per minute. Before its destruction in 2001, New York’s 110-story World Trade Center operated 252 elevators and 71 escalators, all manufactured by Otis.

My Kingdom for a Bic

Pedro I a 14th century king of Castile was one of the first monarchs who could write, and he had very nice penmanship. That didn’t prevent him from being stuck with the moniker Pedro the Cruel for various transgressions, real and imagined. His greatest sin seems to have been his hatred for the monks, a hatred which was returned in kind. When Pedro died by the dagger of his illegitimate brother on March 23, 1369, his place in history was left to be determined by — Guess who? His sworn enemies, the monks. It seems they too could write. And they went right to work proving that their pens were mightier than his scepter. Good penmanship can only take one so far.

The Game Show That Wouldn’t Die

Beat the Clock made its CBS debut on March 23, 1950, hosted by Bud Collyer. It ran until 1961. It rose from the dead in 1969 as The New Beat the Clock, running until 1974. It reappeared in 1979 as The All-New Beat the Clock, and later as All-New All-Star Beat the Clock.

To win, contestants had to “solve problems” within a certain time limit which was counted down on a madly-ticking giant clock. If they succeeded, they “beat the clock”; if they didn’t, “the clock beat them.” And they died.

MARCH 22, 238: GORDIAN ANGELS

Posted on March 22, 2024March 12, 2024 by rdaybell

Romans got two emperors for the price of one, when in 238, Gordian I and II became father-and-son tag-team Caesars after an insurrection against Maximinus Thrax, a rather unpopular emperor who had come to the position by the popular tradition of assassinating his predecessor. Gordian I was a bit long in the tooth so the younger Gordian was attached to the imperial throne and acclaimed Augustus too – sort of like if Poppa Bush and W had been presidents together, mano e mano so to speak.

Some supporters of Maximinus Thrax who were not happy with this turn of events staged a rebellion in Africa. Gordian II fought against them in the Battle of Carthage but lost and was killed for good measure. Hearing the bad news, Gordian I took his own life. All of this happened within a month. Fortunately, there was no dearth of Gordians in Rome, and Gordian II’s 13-year-old nephew Gordian III soon became emperor. During his six-year reign, the teenage ruler endured pimples, the fickleness of teenage girls, and Persians until he was done in by the latter in yet another battle. He was succeeded by Philip the Arab (son of Ahab) sometimes referred to as the Gordian Not.

Slow and steady wins the race

Back in 1767, Lord Robert Clive of the East India Company was given a gift of four Aldabra tortoises from the Seychelle Islands. Three soon died, but the fourth, a gent named Addwaita “the one and only,” prospered. He was transferred to a Calcutta zoo in 1875.

Addwaita was a bit of a loner, content to pass the decades in his zoo cubicle, munching on carrots, lettuce, chick peas, bran, bread and grass, growing to a stately 550 pounds and living to the ripe old age of 250, give or take a year or two.

Alas, Addwaita bought the reptilian ranch on March 22, 2006. Foul play was not suspected.

MARCH 21, 1963: Jailhouse Rock

Posted on March 21, 2024March 19, 2024 by rdaybell

The Rock, as it’s affectionately known, got started in the incarceration business back in 1934, but this crag poking up out of San Francisco Bay had a much longer history, first as the home of America’s earliest Pacific Coast lighthouse, guiding ships through the bay for over a hundred years, then as the site of a military prison for 75 years. In its thirty years as the nation’s most notorious federal prison, Alcatraz was the iconic slammer, the model for cinematic portrayals. It’s easy to picture a Pat O’Brien or Roy Best ruling its corridors.

Although its notable inmates included Al Capone, Machine Gun Kelly and Doc Barker, Alcatraz was not necessarily the home to the most violent. Rather it was the place to which unruly prisoners were sent from other prisons to learn some manners. Kind of the equivalent of being sent to the principal’s office. 1,576 prisoners made the trip to Alcatraz before it closed on March 21, 1963.

On a Showboat to Broadway

“Curtain! Fast music! Light! Ready for the last finale! Great! The show looks good, the show looks good!”

American Broadway impresario, Florenz “Flo” Ziegfeld, Jr. was born March 21, 1867 (died July 22, 1932). The theater bug came to Ziegfeld early; while still in his teens, he was already running variety shows. In 1893, his father, who was the founder of the Chicago Music College, sent him to Europe to find classical musicians and orchestras. Flo returned with the Von Bulow Military Band — and Eugene Sandow, “the world’s strongest man.”

Ziegfeld was particularly noted for his series of theatrical revues, the Ziegfeld Follies, inspired by the Folies Bergère of Paris – spectacular extravaganzas, full of beautiful women, talented performers, and the best popular songs of the time – and was known as the “glorifier of the American girl”.

MARCH 20, 689: SOME FOLKS JUST WON’T STAY BURIED

Posted on March 20, 2024March 21, 2024 by rdaybell

Back in the 7th century on an island in northern Britain, the very holy St. Cuthbert gave up the ghost. The exact date of his departure was March 20, 689. Not only was Cuthbert very holy, he was, you might say, holier than thou, or at least holier than all his peers. He devoted his entire life to converting the half-savage heathens (and there were quite a few half-savage heathens at the time) and praying — lots of praying. Such was his devotion that those about him often wondered if he were not a man but an angel.

Cuthbert was duly shrouded and buried, remaining at rest for some 11 years until some curious monks dug him up to have a peek. They found Cuthbert in perfect condition, which they accepted as miraculous proof of his saintly character. They placed him in a new coffin, leaving him above ground so he might perform miraculous cures.

Another 174 years passed and, with Britain facing an invasion by the Danes, the monks (different monks) carried Cuthbert’s still perfect body away and wandered with it from place to place for many years.

Finally in the 11th century, Cuthbert’s body found a permanent home where it was enshrined and enriched with offerings of gold and jewelry from the faithful (there were a lot more of them by the 11th century). In 1104, the body was inspected again and found still fresh. Another 400 years and another inspection.

Three hundred years. It’s 1827 and Cuthbert is past due for inspection. This time, however, the inspectors were much more rigorous, and it was discovered that Cuthbert was an ordinary skeleton swaddled up to look whole, including plaster balls to plump out the eye holes. It would appear that some monks along the way had been quite naughty. St. Cuthbert himself serves as a fine example of a person who was far more interesting dead than alive.

Deciders Unite

The Whigs didn’t last long as as political party. Formed in the 1830s out of annoyance with Andrew Jackson, they gave us four presidents — William Henry Harrison, John Tyler, Zachary Taylor and Millard Fillmore, commonly known by their shared nickname, Who? (not to be confused with the rock group of the same name). As is the case with many political parties, they had disagreements over tents, finding themselves unable to deal with the concept of big ones, and eventually tore themselves asunder with internal disagreements.

The semi-official date of the party’s actual death was March 20, 1854. On that date, a number of don’t wanna-be Whigs met in Ripon, Wisconsin, and the result of that meeting was the birth of the Republican party, which lasted until 2016.

MARCH 19, 2009: Bye Bye Birdie

Posted on March 19, 2024March 9, 2024 by rdaybell

When the swallows come back to Capistrano/ That’s the day I pray that you’ll come back to me.

And the day is today, St. Josephs Day, although St. Joseph has nothing to do with swallows. But more of that later.

Like feathered clockwork, cliff swallows year after year migrated from Goya, Argentina, to the Mission San Juan Capistrano in southern California. Every year the good townsfolk of San Juan Capistrano welcomed them back with an annual Swallows’ Day Parade with balloons and food trucks, politicians kissing babies and other festive events. And flocks of tourists would come and everybody was happy.

Was happy. For in 2009, the fabled swallows were no shows. A swallowless decade followed, during which folks at the mission tried unsuccessfully to lure their fickle feathered friends back.

In 2016, swallow experts created faux nests attached to a large temporary wall in hopes that the birds would move in and eventually spill over and start using the actual mission structures. A couple of years ago, two real nests were discovered at the mission and several swallows were spotted in flight. Swallow lovers hopes were riding high.

Hold your breath no longer. They’re back! And the villagers are happy once again, dancing round and round and singing “When the swallows come back to Capistrano . . .”

About That St. Josephs Day

Joseph was mostly known for being the father of Jesus Not the actual father of course, but kind of a placeholder for someone else. And the real father that Joseph was standing in for was, we are told, the big guy himself. Or as some would say the one and only god. So Joseph, a carpenter and all around nice guy schmuck married the pregnant Mary to save her rep when the big guy asked him to. Of course refusing an ask by the big guy might just be inviting a smiting.

When the Pigeons Come Back to China

MARCH 18, 1662: The Bus Is Leaving

Posted on March 18, 2024March 9, 2024 by rdaybell

As ideas go, it seemed like a pretty good one. And it was thought up by Blaise Pascal, noted French inventor, mathematician, physicist, philosopher, author and all around heavy thinker. He shopped the idea around to various French nobles who jumped on the band wagon, so to speak. He even went right up to King Louis XIV who gave him a royal monopoly. Those who tried to compete could lose their horses, their carriages and possibly even their heads. The guillotine was a popular diversion at the time.

The Carosses à Cinq Sous, or Five-Penny Coaches, debuted on March 18, 1662 — the world’s first bus service. With a fleet of seven horse-drawn carriages running along three separate routes, each carrying up to eight passengers, it proved a popular but fleeting phenomenon. It carried only nobles; peasants were pedestrians, relegated to being run down Sadly, the novelty quickly wore off, the nobles not being known for their attention span. Ennui set in. By 1675, the carriages no longer cruised the rues. They were gone, not to reappear until the 19th century when every London, Boston, and New York had them.

C’est la vie.

Don’t Sit Next to Him on the Bus

Ivan IV Vasileyevich, known to his friends as Ivan the Terrible, died in 1584 while engaged in a particularly wicked game of chess. He rose to prominence, and some might say infamy, as the Grand Prince of Moscow, a position he held from 1533 to 1547, when he declared himself the first ever Tsar of All the Russias, a title he held until his death. He was succeeded by his son, Feodor the Not So Terrible.

Historians disagree on the exact nature of Ivan’s enigmatic personality. He was described as intelligent and devout, yet paranoid and given to rages, episodic outbreaks of mental instability, and late-night Truth Social rants.