Teaching Ralph how
to Mambo, showing him the correct way to address a golf ball – "helloooo
ball", chasing after his lost dog Lulu in his sleep while Ralph tries
to corral him from the neighborhood rooftops, are all classic Norton escapades.
Though Art Carney will be missed by those who knew and loved him, Ed Norton
lives on in late night reruns and in our memories.
But as much
as I enjoy watching the 50-year old sitcom, as much as Ralph and Ed make
me laugh – no matter how many times I've seen the same episode,
I really have no desire to acquire Norton's trademark hat or the familiar
tee shirt and vest he wore each show for my personal memorabilia collection.
Those items
belong in some television hall of fame. On display somewhere for Honeymooners'
fans everywhere to see. The same goes for anything – anything –
that has to do with Babe Ruth and baseball.
Some genius
at the trading card company Donruss came up with the bright idea of cutting
up a 1925 Babe Ruth New York Yankees game jersey and distributing one
inch swatches of the priceless uniform in packs of the company's baseball
cards. What a brilliant idea.
Take an irreplaceable
piece of baseball history and tear it up the way you would an old tee
shirt to make dust rags. Has the sports memorabilia craze gotten so out
of hand that owning a few fibers of the Babe's jersey is preferable to
viewing it in tact at an exhibit?
Here's a
case where Major League Baseball should have stepped in, gave Donruss
the quarter million dollars they paid for the jersey and had it hung in
a display case in Cooperstown where it belongs.
You wouldn't
slice up the Mona Lisa and sell one inch pieces of the masterpiece just
to give the public the opportunity to own a da Vinci. And you wouldn't
take the original Bat Mobile to a chop shop so Gus – who likes to
come to dinner wearing a cowl – can hang the caped crusader's carburetor
on the wall in his den.
I wonder
how long it will be before someone comes up with the bright idea of making
authentic Ted Williams toothpicks out of one of the Splendid Splinter's
old bats. Talk about kicking a guy when he's frozen and headless.
And if the
high-tops Johnny Unitas wore when the Colts beat the Giants in the 1958
NFL Championship game are in such high demand, what a windfall it would
be to sell off each shoe, each shoelace and each studded cleat separately.
I once stood
in line at a department store for hours to get the autograph of the great
Willie Mays. That was a long time ago but I remember the experience like
it was yesterday. Now if I can only remember where I put the piece of
paper with his signature – I'm sure it would fetch a nice piece
of change on E-bay. Maybe more if I cut it up and sell it one letter at
a time.
Ralph once
cautioned Alice to remember that "you can't put your arms around
a memory" to which she replied "I can't even put my arms around
you" – that line cracks me up every time. Thanks to Donruss,
nobody can get their arms into the sleeves of Babe Ruth's 1925 New York
Yankees game jersey because it's in 2,100 pieces. That's a shame.
There are
laws against desecrating the American flag and you'd probably get in big
trouble if you climbed Mount Rushmore and chiseled off a piece of Thomas
Jefferson's nose. There are rules that guard against a sanitation company
using the Grand Canyon as a garbage dump and nobody's dumb enough to try
and swipe a couple of bricks from the Washington Monument.
So how is
it that there is no legislation in place to keep some dope from destroying
one of the few remaining mementos of an American legend?
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