This Northwest Angle, Minnesota mommy suds up her baby on a Saturday night in a metal basin near the kitchen stove.
Back in 1933, my grandfather wrote away for information about the upcoming 1934 World’s Fair. Today I opened the brochures inside the envelope. He was only a teenager at the time, so the idea of travelling from Kansas to the World’s Fair must have been intriguing. I doubt he wound up going.
Various “circle tours” were listed, including these:
Included was a list of all the sites and sounds to enjoy.
Zooming in, you can see the variety, from tiremaking and Neon tubes to midgets to Mayans!
All aboard the sightseeing, streamlined Greyhound bus!
How about the vivid colors on this 85-year-old map, eh? Bright and sparkly and looking brand-new.
Take a gander at that one again. The icon they show for the largest population only shows over 500,000. But that was in 1930, when none of us was alive to fill the census count.
The word “pineapple” in English was first recorded to describe the reproductive organs of conifer trees (now termed pine cones). When European explorers discovered this tropical fruit in the Americas, they called them “pineapples” (first referenced in 1664, for resemblance to the pine cone). So says the Great and Powerful Oz. I mean wikipedia.
So that’s it. That’s why a fruit that is neither pine nor apple is called pineapple. End of story. Next stop: eggplant.
But in the course of my brief pineapple study, I disovered a site which marries the two: Pineapples and Pinecones, purveyors of fine travel. This made me sad because:
a) I don’t use the word purvey enough. If being a purveyor means you provide something, then I suppose I provide old pictures. Just typing the word is weird. It looks pervy.
b) I’ve never been privy to “fine travel.”
The website “purveys” cruises (never been on one, but I watched umpteen seasons of “The Love Boat,” followed by “Fantasy Island”). They offer custom touring (never done that either). They “would be pleased to tailor an itinerary” to me. Has anyone ever said those words to you? They should only be said in an uppity accent. The only thing tailored for me was my bridal gown, and the shop screwed that up big time. But that’s another story.
After I shake down our money tree in the backyard, I can take that schmancy cruise and blog about my “cultural shore excursions.” I’d tell you about the lovely welcome-aboard cocktail reception I received as I boarded the Golden Princess and the awe-inspiring Fiji sunset views at night. I would share how we laughed with the captain and sang showtunes from the movie South Pacific and I would mimic washing a man right out of my hair, and it would be a gay old time. And I could talk to the ex-senator and his wife, who seem to be enjoying retirement.
But for now (sigh) the closest I can get is a hot bath and some pineapple juice. Cheers.
Well, there’s something I haven’t seen in awhile. An ashtray! Meemaws of yore loved to get their smoke on. Her hair is AMAZING. Do you think it’s a wig, or she spent all night with frozen OJ cans in her hair?
This little-banged Meemaw (I mean her bangs are little!) was only 37 years old, but look how the Camels aged her.
Just kidding. Someone knew how to accessorize.
I bet these two had the neighborhood dish. And I don’t mean the purple smoke billowing up out of that pot. Check out the red accent colors and heels!
Here’s one Meemaw I wouldn’t sassy backtalk. I bet she’d send you out back to the tree just to pull your own switch to beat you.
These two knew how to live it up in style.
And there’s their friend, Barbara, with the good teeth and high-quality Scotch.
But not THIS much Scotch.
Or THIS much.
God help us.
But most Meemaws have mellowed with age.
You go, gals.
Teamjimmyjoe.com has provided all of today’s fun images.
STAFF SERGEANT GEORGE TALBERT OF 3RD BATTALION, 18TH INFANTRY REGIMENT, 1ST INFANTRY DIVISION, ON THE LOOKOUT FOR GERMAN TROOPS IN A FOREST NEAR SOURBRODT, BELGIUM DURING THE BATTLE OF THE BULGE – 19 DECEMBER 1944
Histomil is a great site full of thousands of WWII images, capturing both victorious and horrific moments alike. Some are captioned like the one above, and some leave you with dozens of questions.
During WWII, American soldiers were forbidden from fraternizing with German girls, no matter how comely or eager. Corporal Harold Goodden could hardly resist this mannequin, replete with German officer’s cap and lustrous locks. Surely she was not harboring Nazi tendencies.
But rulebooks be damned. By 1949 (four years later) over 20,000 German war brides had emigrated to the United States to join their charming US serviceman (and to get the H out of Europe).
Italy was also the enemy, but no matter to stationed soldiers. No less than 412 brides were all aboard the liner Algonquin in this shot. Clearly there was more than “fraternization” going on.
Women from many nations soon found the US to be home. An estimated 100, 000 UK women, 1,500 hundred New Zealand women, and 15,000 Australian women married American soldiers and moved to the US as well.
Ireland was neutral during WWII, and evidently Irish lasses were not immune to the charms of American soldiers. Exactly one year after the above picture was printed, these Irish war brides set sail for a new life in New York, where their babies would be introduced to their American fathers.
Nameless pretty girl and P.O. Fryklund, curator of the Roseau County Historical Society in Minnesota, test the sound of the “bass viol for two.” I can’t imagine them making beautiful music together but you never know.
Perhaps the umbrella could not cover two.
Perhaps the other girl was done with her classes for the day and didn’t mind the rain.
But a wet leather purse is no fun.
Poor soaking wet Tweety and Puddy Tat…
Several days later, and dragging the unwilling passenger down the aisle is still making the news. I bet Pepsi is glad for the distraction.
Twitter is alive with creativity.
We very rarely fly, so boycotting is a moot point for our family. What about you? Will this treatment change your travel itinerary? Perhaps they should change their name to Divided.