While we wait for the Yanks to play tonight, we’ve got football and football means:

Happy Sundaze.

[Picture by J. Parthum]

It just is.

[Photo Credit: J. Parthum]

The Yanks are stumbling toward a playoff berth. Last night, the offense showed some fight, which has me feeling good. However, the formidable J. Lester goes for the Sox later this afternoon on Fox (doom, doom!) and Dustin Moseley will start for the Yanks tomorrow night so a Red Sox sweep is not hard to imagine.

Still, I’ll be keeping the faith like De La, and root-root-rooting for the home team.

Fug whatchu hoid: Let’s Go Yan-Kees!

[Picture by Frank Miller]

Hey, Yanks just need to win two games to reach the playoffs this weekend?

Things aren’t all that bad, after all.

Okay, so 1960 is a most horrid thought for most Yankee fans but this is too good not to share.

The Times does homemade potato chips.

For you skeptics out there, last night’s loss is proof that this is not a magical year, that this Yankee team will get bounced from the playoffs in early October. We’re always looking for signs and the Yanks have not played well over the past month. This morning, the papers took notice.

In the Post, George King begins his recap:

Joe Girardi and CC Sabathia better be correct. Because if they are wrong, the Yankees’ October experience is going to be a short one.

The manager and ace both said the max-effort pitching duel between David Price and Sabathia less than two weeks ago in St. Petersburg, Fla., didn’t bankrupt the Yankees ace’s tank.

In the News, Mark Feinsand writes, “The standings still show the Yankees in sole possession of first place in the American League East, so why does it feel like they lost the division Thursday night?”

Nobody was happy in the comments section here at Banter last night, either. So? What does it all mean? Can this team turn it on and go back to the Whirled Serious? Or is this 2006 and a first round bump?

I don’t think the Yanks will repeat but also would be surprised if they don’t at least make it to the ALCS.

It’s not about a salary it’s all about reality.

Hey, speaking of gangsters, remember this fargin corksucker?

Greasy…

An intriguing new book on Charlie Chan by Yunte Hang has received good reviews–from the L.A. Times and the New York Times and The New Yorker:

Chan’s Hollywood career was launched in 1926, with a film adaptation of “The House Without a Key,” starring the Japanese actor George Kuwa, after which Chan went on to appear in forty-six more movies; he was most memorably played, in the nineteen-thirties, by a Swede named Warner Oland. He also appeared in countless comic strips and, in the nineteen-seventies, in sixteen episodes of Hanna-Barbera’s “The Amazing Chan and the Chan Clan,” which aired on CBS television on Saturday mornings and featured a dog named Chu Chu, Jodie Foster’s voice as one of Chan’s ten children, and the cri de coeur “Wham bam, we’re in a jam!”
Charlie Chan is also one of the most hated characters in American popular culture. In the nineteen-eighties and nineties, distinguished American writers, including Frank Chin and Gish Jen, argued for laying Chan to rest, a yellow Uncle Tom, best buried. In trenchant essays, Chin condemned the Warner Oland movies as “parables of racial order”; Jen called Chan “the original Asian whiz kid.” In 1993, the literary scholar Elaine Kim bid Chan good riddance—“Gone for good his yellowface asexual bulk, his fortune-cookie English”—in an anthology of contemporary Asian-American fiction titled “Charlie Chan Is Dead,” which is not to be confused with the beautiful and fantastically clever 1982 Wayne Wang film, “Chan Is Missing,” and in which traces of a man named Chan are all over the place, it’s just that no one can find him anymore.
“Role of dead man require very little acting,” as Charlie Chan liked to say. (Don’t ask me what that means. Aphorisms, like tiger in zoo, all roar, no claw.) In “Charlie Chan: The Untold Story of the Honorable Detective and his Rendezvous with American History” (Norton; $26.95), Yunte Huang, who grew up in China, went to graduate school in the United States, taught at Harvard for a while, and now teaches American literature at the University of California, Santa Barbara, confesses, abashedly, to being a Chan fan: “Sometimes late at night, I turn on the TV and a Chinaman falls out. He is hilarious.” Most interesting.
(Jill Lepore, The New Yorker)

[Picture by Greg Kucera]

It’s been chilly the past few nights here in New York. October baseball is in the air for Yankee fans and I’m here to tell you that it feels good to be so spoiled. For years my sense memory informed me to get anxious in this weather which meant the start of school. Now, it’s been replaced by a luxurious feeling–the Yankees and the playoffs. It is a sensation that I cannot take for granted.

Now that autumn is fast approaching the summer bounty is running dry. No more corn, just a few precious tomatoes left. These here were grown on a rooftop in Manhattan. August is my favorite time of year for food and I’m always sorry to see it go, but take comfort in the fact that it’ll return next year. And when it arrives again, just like when the Yanks make the playoffs, I’ll appreciate every last moment.

The summer before my senior year in high school I got a job as a messenger in a post-production house in Manhattan. Martin Scorsese was editing “The Last Temptation of Christ” in the building. The movie was scheduled to debut at the New York Film Festival in September but there was so much controversy surrounding it, the date was pushed up. So Scorsese and his team of editors worked around the clock to mix the sound. One Saturday, I came into work to sit next to the projector in the machine room and watch. After an hour, Scorsese invited me inside. I was supposed to go visit my grandfather who was recovering from surgery at Lennox Hill, but I stayed in the dark mixing studio all afternoon. I watched and listened.

Scorsese was approachable that summer. He complimented me on my t-shirt collection, talked to me about movies, and one day when I brought my friends in, trying to show off, Scorsese spotted me and said hello,  a huge thrill.

The next summer, I’d graduated high school and Scorsese was shooting a gangster movie called “Wise Guy” (later changed to “Goodfellas). The Dailies–footage from the previous day’s shoot–were transfered to videotape for Robert DeNiro. Whenever I had down time between a run, I snuck into the transfer room and watched take after take of Joe Pesci, Ray Liotta, DeNiro and the gang. I’d never been so anxious to see a movie in my life. A few months later, I was walking past a studio where they were mixing the sound and I heard “Monkey Man,” my favorite Stones song. I stopped dead in my tracks.

Are you kidding me? This is going to be the best movie ever.

I saw “Goodfellas” the day it opened, the first showing, high noon, over on the east side somewhere. Then, I saw it four more times in the theater.

That was 20 years ago. Check out the oral history of the movie featured over at GQ. It’s not great but it gives you some flavor behind the making of the movie that put Scorsese’s career back on the map and practically annoited him as the Dean of American Directors.

Higher Loinik:

[Photograph by Ruth Orkin, NYC: 1947]

The Threshing Floor (1904), By Diego Rivera

‘Meber this silliness?

This could be a good one. From the New York Times:

[George Bernard] Shaw also formed an enduring friendship with, of all people, Gene Tunney, the world heavyweight champ, some 40 years younger. The two men regularly corresponded and exchanged visits and, together with their wives, even spent a monthlong holiday together in 1929, when Tunney, newly married to Polly Lauder, a Connecticut heiress, was hiding from the press in Brioni, the Adriatic resort.

This friendship, the subject of a new book, “The Prizefighter and the Playwright: Gene Tunney and Bernard Shaw,” by Tunney’s 74-year-old son, Jay, is not a secret, exactly. Shaw and Tunney were proud of their connection and took no pains to hide it. Contemporary sportswriters, who disapproved of Tunney’s bookishness, sometimes made fun of him for associating with such a pointy-head.

Good looking to that tweetin’ fool, Matt B, for pointing out this piece on Martin Scorsese’s favorite gangster movies.

I’m partial to this one, myself:

What’s your favorite food to get from a cart?