Homely Flappers Were A Drag
Month: June 2014
Dimes Day, Not Doomsday
That’s an inviting look Lady Cashier is sharing with young Anson, no? The touch of her fingertips against his calloused palm is almost more than she can process.
And speaking of looks, check out the glare on Lady Flamenco in the Carmen Miranda knockoff.
Perhaps her date ditched her before the clock chimed midnight? I think that’s he on the toilet in the corner. Either way, she’s got John Turturro within grabbing distance, wearing touchably soft trousers, thirsty for punch. Time to make your move, Private Dancer. Game on.
No, Virginia, There Were No Rules In 1978
During the 1977 University of Texas football season, the drinking age was 18, probably because boys that age were asked to die in Vietnam. But let’s wrap our heads around that. High school seniors graduating across the country TOMORROW would legally be able to go get LIT tonight. At a bar. Yes, selfie-taking teenagers. The ones who text and drive. The ones who were born in 1996, the year George Burns turned 100. You think they would make it to 100, car-surfing past the Incidentals Market like these dolts?
Alas, we forget how foolish we were in our salad days. This is what it felt like to be young, male, and jubilant in 1978.
Were there no seatbelt laws then? Because it appears they may have failed to Click It or Ticket. I can’t fathom why, but the drinking age was raised to 19 in 1979, and further raised to 21 in 1984. And there it shall stay. And there it SHOULD stay. Egads!
Austin In A Nutshell
The more things change, the more they stay the same (except now you’re not allowed to light a cigarette within twenty yards of Austin). This shot from 1978 was taken on The Drag, a strip on Guadalupe Street, across from the University of Texas. Cowboys vs. Dragrats? Some pictures just demand to be resurrected from the closed pages of ancient yearbooks.
Title Not Necessary
I Got Your Cowbell Right Here
Girl, You Crazy
Blowing In The Wind
In case you didn’t know, the Denton High School marching band is awesome. Their jersey shirts tell you so.
Hard work, perseverance, and dedication will take this band all the way to state. It doesn’t hurt that Alan can really blow. 
Jill and Dana are just happy to have an excuse to skip family Uno night each Friday. Jill gets her rebellion on by donning the purple eye shadow that Mom says makes her look like a Runaround Sue, and Dana has splashed her entire being with Jean Nate in an effort to entice Alan. And after the game, it’s endless Capri Suns and Fritos with bean dip!
If Alan is oblivious as usual, maybe she can spark some interest from Josh. Who wouldn’t want to be around Josh, when his enthusiasm is so palpable?
All Hail The Dork King
Hear ye, hear ye! All ye dweebs and jocks, preppies and new-wavers! All hail the dork king, astride his steed (which resembles a dragon, an homage to his Dungeons and Dragons skills).
I played my drum for Him, pa rum pum pum pum.
The crowd goes nuts! A damsel with a parasol tosses Brach’s candies as a sign of support for the new regime!
Competition to be his queen is fierce! Tammy gives him a wink while shamelessly putting her crafty crepe paper skills on display. 
Bonnie Tyler lyrics run through her head. She can hardly keep her wits about her.
Isn’t there a white knight upon a fiery steed?
Late at night I toss and turn and dream of what I need!
Not to be outdone, Travis plunges through her crepe paper mayhem, as though lassoed by her wiles. 
No need to hold out for a hero any longer, Tammy! I am here with my hairless chest and my peachfuzz ‘stache at your command!
Whom shall she choose?
Cloudy With A Chance That One Of You Drove A Camaro Z28
Who could it be now? Ted, Shawn, or Michael?
It’s a tough call, but my money’s on Shawn. I can see the rumpled Code Bleu jacket in the back seat, next to a can of New Coke, a ticket stub for Rambo: First Blood II, and an empty Dokken cassette case. You rock so hard, Shawn.
While we’re at it, who’s the proud owner of that black Trans-Am that always screeches into the roller rink near closing time, scouting pubescent girls in banana clips and Esprit blouses?
Is it Ben, Larry, or Franswya? Ben is bringing the preppy Blaine vibe, but I heard he drives a totally rad Ford Bronco. Larry is not allowed to operate heavy machinery until he’s done participating in the clinical trial, so it must be Fran, giddy as heck.
I do hope that Franswya is not an alternate way of spelling François, but either way, he’s in his 40s now, so he’s at peace with the name. It’s not quite as unsettling to me as boys named Kameron, but like the overrated movie Frozen (really, what was the BIG deal?), I’ll let it go. Let’s focus instead on Bob.
What about Bob? I don’t care if those keys are to his Porsche 944, I’m not going. I’m taking the school bus home today.
Daft Redneck
We’re up all night to the sun
We’re up all night to get some
We’re up all night for good fun
We’re up all night to get lucky
( from “Get Lucky” 2014 Grammy Record of the Year)
It Is Well With My Soul Glo
Fun fact of the day: Jheri curl creator Jheri Redding (born Robert William Redding) was an American hairdresser, chemist, haircare products entrepreneur, and a businessman. And an old white guy. But that didn’t stop folks from sporting the glossy, loosened curls.
If you have never watched Coming To America, do yourself a favor and enjoy Eddie Murphy and Arsenio Hall as the Hope & Crosby pairing for the 1980s. The movie parodied overuse of Jheri Curl in an advertisement for Soul Glo. My eardrums are still pierced from the shrill jingle (Prince meets Minnie Riperton). You remember Eriq La Salle rocking a Jheri? 
But the woman’s hairdo reminds me of Ola Ray, the luck, luckiest girl in the whole U.S.A. The girl from the Thriller video! The one we all wanted to be–with Michael’s arm around her! Is that blue leopard denim?
And while every senior in this 1985 yearbook wore the same striped tie or strapless gown, not all of them sported Jheri curl. This lady went for volume instead. 
The gentleman has a curious case of Kenan Thompson eyebrows. See for yourself.
Nobody told Victor he couldn’t wear Stevie Wonder glasses for class portraits. 
Still, his enormous shades were probably better choices than these three specs:
If you still need your Soul Glo fix, here ’tis:
I Don't Get It 