The era of donning the traditional freshmen beanies has all but faded into history. But it was alive and well in 1964 New Mexico.
As you can see, the snowflakes had just gone up.
Out of context, this does seem like an odd (if not clearly amateurish) sign to hang in front of a gift shop. However, the town is named Dripping Springs, and folks just call it Drippin’. We passed through it yesterday, and it made my heart warm. I just love seeing people hanging Christmas decorations; it’s that one fleeting moment where everyone is preparing for the holiday that we know will end in the blink of any eye. So for now, just enjoy the season!
We visited Luckenbach yesterday, and it was FROSTY as all get out. I could see my dang breath in November! All of Luckenbach could fit inside a regular, non-Super Center Walmart, but there were plenty of tourists visiting the gift shop, some much too young to remember the Waylon & Willie song.
It’s no news flash that most of us today are fat fat fatties. Reminds me of the old Morrissey song, “You’re The One For Me, Fatty.” It’s not surprising if you’ve never heard of Nutrament, as it exists today mainly only in New York and Florida. They have added new flavors, including cappucino, dulce de leche, mango, and the seasonally appropriate eggnog. Yeah, I still don’t want it. Why drink your calories when you can feast on meat and sides?
Now I was not alive in 1967 when this ad debuted, but women have ALWAYS been drawn to tall drinks of water. I doubt this lanky lad was at a loss for ladies, except that his proportions are all off. An average person is 7 1/2 heads high, and he is easily 9 heads high. Nobody likes a shrunken head.
The UK also struggles with obesity. They posted this image, comparing a typical 1967 male with a modern man. The difference was 23 lbs.
Converted to lbs, that’s 162 lbs vs 185. I don’t know about you, but I know a lot of folks who would LOOOOOOVE to weigh 185. That would be a blessing. And fatty evidently is outliving his thinner counterpart by quite a bit. Probably pumped up on medications, though. Time is a beast and steals our beauty and our firmness. Rare is the bird who looks better now than then.
Unless you’re Al Roker.
Now here’s what’s happening in your neck of the woods: you are surrounded by fatties like me.
Shove The Sombero On The Bulldog is a variant of the common child’s party game, wherein a cowgirl chases down a … Dear God, I don’t know what they’re doing. These images from 1949 raise more questions than they answer.
Like why would you park your jalopy on steps?
And is she kneeling in prayer, cursing the car’s engine or praising the argyle socks of a would-be beau?
Why hasn’t anyone prebussed this table? I see some empties.
Why don’t men wear ties like this anymore? And why does the one on the lower left look like Viewmaster reels?
What did Hiram do to deserve such bevy of beauty adoration? Is his thigh numb now?
And why would Bart and Molly bother with a “pretzel battle” at the fall barn party?
I think that makes them married, in some countries.
Time was, when hats were jaunty, and fellas would tilt a brim to the brink of audaciousness. Who could resist the power of this hombre in particular, gathered among his fellow American Institute of Mining and Metallurgy Engineers?
Only two weeks after the stock market plummet of Black Tuesday (not to be confused with the upcoming Black Friday), Current Events newspaper was already trying to determine how history would look back upon the crash of the stock market and beginning of what would later be termed The Great Depression.
My Granddad Bill kept this paper from when he was nine years old. Here is the cover of the weekly that was used by students across America.
While the optimism was admirable, they seemed to believe the worst of the effects would be limited to 1929, rather than a depression that would carry them all the way into the second World War. But such is the hindsight allowed in only a handful of days. The Roaring Twenties would roar no more.
Brian Cranston evidently bored our dogs to tears this morning.
Tonto couldn’t stop yawning.
Well, now I suppose it has ONE match, for this blog post.
I can’t show you what a Pepigram Binder is, but these are evidently pepigrams that would have been stored in said three-ring binder.
As you might have figured, these came from my Granddad Bill’s stack of salvaged things. But as to this pepigram, I have no explanation. Pep-i-gram Bin-dah (sing to the tune of “Paperback Writer”…)