I found this at an antique store in a nearby town a few days ago. No information on the back. Looks like late 20s, early 30s by the bobbed hair. My best guess is the man in the middle is the grandfather of Mr. Paul Reubens.
See? Pee Wee Herman likes holding puppies, too.
Sory, I meant to say Mr. Paul Rubenfeld.
You know I always have to bring it back to yearbooks.
The best part of waking up is not Folger’s in your cup; it’s not being dead. I average about four hours of sleep per night, so I am never fully-rested, fully-cognizant, or fully-functioning. It is one of many thorns in my side. But I keep waking up each morning, before the sun, before the rooster crows, still breathing and being alive.
In the time it’s taken you to read this, about 100 people have died. Yep, approximately 6000 per hour.
So consider yourself lucky! If you’re still here, you’ve still got a mission to accomplish. Maybe it’s tackling that in-box. Maybe it’s chores. Maybe it’s fighting an illness. Maybe it’s a kind word to build someone up today, or just putting one foot in front of the other. But you’re not still sitting here, converting oxygen into carbon dioxide, for nothing. My guess is you’ll make it to the next minute as well. Hey, that’s better than the 200 people who died since you clicked on this post. Cheers to life, buddy! Get another cup of coffee (free trade, fair trade, or whatever) and enjoy the morning.
Cool image on Traces of Texas today of the 1913 San Antonio Flood.
I’m not saying they did hide varmints in their hair; I’m just saying they could.
Before Olan Mills and Glamour Shots, amateur photographers had to direct their subjects with options and tips like:
Please. You know I’m not going to talk about Dharma Bums or On The Road. I didn’t get an English degree for that. And plus, I’m not my 1995 boyfriend, trying desperately to have a deep conversation, so…
This is not to dismiss Jack Kerouac’s writing; if that’s what you want, check out another WP blogger. If it’s shallow and unnecessary judgment you need, you’re in the right place. And this isn’t about his cup of liquor or his pipe or his gingham or his lustful stare. It’s about how he was reincarnated as Nathan Fillion.
With a dash of Mike Rowe.
Well, this shot of a dirty hitchhiker doesn’t look too much Kerouac. I might be wrong. Perhaps I should do some more research, just to be sure.
Research is totally important.
Seriously.
Sorry, straight guys. Go cleanse your palate with some pin-ups.
Oh, ladies, you have not represented well. Not a blessed one of you.
And especially not this girl. 
Glasses and braces are the least of this pack’s worries. I feel a sudden urge to chew Fruit Stripes gum.
Mind you, all these kids were in the SAME 9th grade class (back when 9th grade was in junior high). They had to pass each other in the halls, taking in all the beauty and attractiveness going on.
Next, we have two clearly wasted, polka-dotted, teased ladies (whose hair does not fit in frame), bookending a less-hussier girl, who probably skipped the dances.
In the next trio of girls, Cindy Nolen is the bowheaded gal having the time of her life.
Perhaps she was inspired by yesterday’s birthday girl?
I don’t have a clue what’s going on here.
Reports today show Doris Day’s age from 90 to 92, owing to the fact that she lied about her age, back in the day, so that she could sing professionally with a big band in a club. According to http://www.npr.org, Day’s bandleader lied to the club owners and told them she was a legal adult.
“I kept forgetting that I wasn’t two years older for years,” Doris Day said. “As the years go on, and my mother said to me, ‘You know what, it just occurred to me. You’re not really 30. You’re 28.’ And I looked at her and said, ‘Oh my gosh, I forgot all about that.'”
How nice to suddenly remember you’re two years younger!
This is guaranteed to be the most recent picture you’ll find of the reclusive actress, who has been single for over 30 years, living with her dogs in Carmel-by-the-Sea, California.
Most of us, however, prefer to remember Day, born Doris Mary Ann Kappelhoff, as the fresh-faced Goldilocks shown in this 1948 Christmas pic with Bob Hope. Perhaps she’ll live to be 100 like he did!
Perhaps she already has…
For more on Doris, check out:http://michaelstvtray.com/2014/04/03/doris-day-bday/ .
I Don't Get It 