The Luna Park Gazette

Victor McLaglen was one of my father’s favorite actors. The British actor had starred in such classics as The Informer, The Quiet Man —for which he won the Academy Award--and She Wore A Yellow Ribbon . My father loved to quote a line from Gunga Din where McLaglen, as Sgt. McChesney, tries to negotiate out of standoff where he and his buddies are hopelessly outnumbered by suggesting both parties go their separate ways and “no ‘arm done!” I recently watched McLaglen in his last role, where he portrayed Harry Wittman, a punch-drunk prizefighter in an episode of Rawhide , which starred Clint Eastwood as Rowdy Yates. Keep Those Doggies Movin' The episode, entitled “Incident of the Shambling Man,” was directed by McLaglen’s son, Andrew V. McLaglen, opens with a chilling scene of the old boxer staggering around the plains throwing punches at non-existent opponents. Victor McLaglen was a fighter in his younger days, touring in circuses, vaudeville shows, and Wild Wes...

And I thought these guys were my friends. I’d been back from my vacation in Ireland just a few days when I had another one of my mutant freak show nightmares. Things had been kind of quiet on the dream front—as far as I can remember—but I reckon my overheated psyche couldn’t sit still after my first real vacation in two years. Seals—my recently declared spirit animal—played a role in this latest delusion, but not a particularly helpful one, along with a man I have not seen in nearly four decades. Here’s the basics: I was traveling through Louisiana with a truck driver when I apparently got the urge to do some ziplining over a lake. I have never done this in real life, nor do I have the desire to start. But there I was, streaking over a body of deep water even though I can’t swim to save my life—literally. As I moved through the air, I saw several seals down below bobbing their heads. I took this as a good sign given supposed kinship with the slippery little buggers. Ho...

“I feel I must have a talent for doing something, but I’m still not terribly sure what it is.” Ronnie Drew I turned a corner at Trinity College and the years just melted away. This was early on in a vacation I had taken to Ireland with my sister and niece, Victoria, who has been studying at Trinity for the last year. One Left Turn... Our two-week adventure was an absolute blast. We met great people, saw fabulous sites, got to cuddle a lamb and I connected with a new spirit animal. I hadn’t taken a trip of any kind since December 2019 when I visited my Uncle Joe and his wife in Los Angeles. And we all know what happened a few short months later. This was a return trip for both me and my sister, as we had visited the Emerald Isle in the Eighties. I had stayed at Trinity during a summer screenwriting class that had been organized by the School of Visual Arts. I was a little disoriented when we first walked through the gates of the 430-year-old school. The place looke...

When was the last time I thought about Snagglepuss? I waste a lot of time and brain cells on all sorts of worthless trivia, but that cartoon cougar hasn’t crossed my mind in decades. That dry spell ended on Thursday as I was wrapping up my workout at the gym and the character’s catchphrase “Heavens to Mugatroyd!” popped into my head. For those of you who don't know, Snagglepuss was a Hanna-Barbara character who made his debut in 1959. He wore an upturned collar, shirt cuffs, and a bow tie. He had a love for theater and he constantly broke the fourth wall to speak to his audience. His voice bears a resemblance to Bert Lahr's--the Cowardly Lion himself--and Lahr, in fact, filed a lawsuit when Snagglepuss appearred in a run of Kellogg's ceral commericals. I'm not sure why he came to mind, but since I’m taking a break from blogging for a little while, I’m thinking of one of Snagglepuss’ other lines: “Exit, stage left!”, which he said when he had to mak...

Now I think I know why that lady was so angry. I know it’s a pretty much a lost cause to yearn for silence in this world of bloviating blowhards, but I keep hoping. Take last Thursday, for exampe, when I had an early morning doctor’s appointment near my gym, so I figured I’d work out, grab something to eat and then go see my sawbones. The gym went fine, and I picked up a banana and a carton of yogurt at a local vegetable store and sat on a bench on 5th Avenue and 85th Street. This was about 8AM and I was stunned at how quiet it was at this spot, which is usually buzzing with all kinds of noise and activity. This is great , I thought as I unpeeled my banana, I’m going to eat, relax and enjoy the morning. “I’m going to murder that woman...” I looked up and saw this strange woman staring at me—or at least, staring in my direction as she made her death wish. I was about to answer when I realized that she was operating on an entirely different wavelength and that it wo...

A few weeks ago, I rewatched The Howling a 1981 horror movie I hadn't seen in over 40 years. The film featured the most amazing werewolf transformation sequences I had ever scene, although I'm sure they are now woefully out of date. Moonstruck I had first seen movie at the Lowe's Alpine theater, which was right around the corner from our house, with my brother, Peter, and our mother. Yes, our mother came with us. Like us--and very unlike our father--Mom was a fan of the old Universal horror movies— Frankenstein, Dracula, The Mummy —the whole gang of ghouls. Of course, horror movies had changed a bit since those 1940s fossils. In addition to new and improved special effects, the modern flicks were much more violent and good deal raunchier. My mother learned this lesson the hard way a few years earlier when I took her to see The Exorcist . Nevertheless, she wanted to see this movie and Count Dracula would sooner be sunbathing on the steps of th...

File this one under “ Thanks, I needed that .” I was working out at my new gym last week when a young woman asked me if I was using the plyobox. (I had to look this one up .) I assured her that I wasn’t—and I doubt that I ever will—and as she picked the thing up, she turned to me. “I have to tell you that you’re doing fantastic,” she said. “Thank you so much,” I blurted, shocked that someone even noticed my workout, let alone be impressed by it. I still feel like an outsider at this new place, so a few kind words make me feel at home. And since I recently turned 65, applied for Medicare and filled out a form for a senior discount Metrocard, I'll gladly accept any and all praise from anyone who wants to share. She went her way and I continued working out. Later I wondered if she actually meant “you’re doing fantastic—for a creaky old fossil.” I hope not. I’ve had a few brushes with senior moments recently. I have trouble recalling actors' names, even ...