Even eight inch celery stalks shooting out of her salad can’t distract Shirley from making googly eyes at Donald. William, however, seems to be admiring the luster of his Cheviot tweed.
Feast your eyes on these natty Texas Longhorns, travelling to Louisiana for a football game in the fall of 1947. I love their fedoras and cowboy hats, the curve of the cars, that one wide pointed black collar, and the teacup with saucer. Do you use saucers? I have some palm tree ones that go with my palm tree teacups, but we only use them separately now. It’s a perfect size for some buttered toast. I imagine these blokes had a nice cup of café au lait and beignets, the signature items of the Morning Call.
The sign says it’s the “most famous coffee drinking place,” but I have never heard of it before. “Coffeehouse” would have taken up less real estate on the sign, but I imagine that word didn’t exist yet.
Morning Call opened in 1870, eight years after the more powerful and still thriving Cafe du Monde, who crushed them in a bidding war last year, which led to their final closing. Having never been to either, I can’t say as I understand the allure of deep fried dough sprinkled with confectioners sugar. Why not just have a donut? Donuts come in all sorts of flavors, and they’re less messy. Then again, in Texas, we consume more breakfast tacos than donuts, so we’re getting our protein and dairy as well. Perhaps the combination of sugary coffee and beignets led one doctor last year to declare Louisiana as “the obesity-diabetes heartland of America.”
Still, it’s hard to say goodbye to tradition, especially after 149 years. These guys were sad to see it go.
You guys, I don’t usually share images as recent as only 30-something years old, which I’m guessing this is, but we need to talk about this.
Discounting the obvious crimes of hair and use of cigarettes (and LENGTH of cigarettes; you’ve come a long, long, LONG way, baby), and plaid vest that somehow makes her more street than lumberjack, or even simply the use of THIS as their Christmas card, what bothers me most is those blinds. I remember those blinds in my first years of apartment dwelling. The way they never moved in synchronicity like Venetian blinds or their superior window cousin, plantation shutters. Just try and pull them to the side. You can already hear the swishing and slamming of cheap plastic blind crashing into cheap plastic blind. Erratic! Random!
And oh, what fun to dust them! And even better, what their very existence oft implied, which was sliding glass doors. Who doesn’t love the sliding glass door? You know, the one that only slides seamlessly for a month before catching and stuttering. Or it does that diagonal thing, where it gets off its rollers. Yes, the very same sliding glass door that a criminal attempted to break into in my townhome in the early 90s, when everyone used that same broken broom handle to shove in between the doors as a perfect deterrent. It was only good fortune that my angry queen of a roommate drew said blinds back and showed his horrified face to the thief that saved us. Damn sliding door. Damn blinds. What did they think they would get? A glass coffee table full of Madonna magazines and a TV with an enormous antenna? Hmph.
With a West Texas State University sticker on the window, students Becky, Judy, and Nancy load up the convertible to enjoy the spring of ’69, cruising the beat sans seatbelts, keeping it under 20mph, for fear that the wind may untease their fancy coifs.
I saw this today and couldn’t help but share.