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Sometimes I Think All They Did In The 50s Was Stand Around Drinking Coke

Trailers For Sale Or Rent

Three blocks from my subdivision, I can throw a stick in any direction and hit a mobile home. And a chainlink fence. And some curious tire “art” formed into flamingos. And that old man in torn boxer shorts, standing wobbly near his bottle tree (yes, that’s a thing) that keeps his barking doberman company. But that’s not the point. The point is that none of the dozens upon dozens of mobile homes look like this swanky residence.

I want to live in this mobile home. I want that couch and those views of what appears to be a golfcourse (because most mobile homes usually have views of the green), and those curtains, and that record player, and throw in the little girl, please. I don’t have one of those yet.

And while I’ve driven past a whole mess of trailers in my lifetime, apparently my state doesn’t have nearly what the top ten states do.

Last year’s Miss South Carolina announced her home state with pride: “From the state where 20% of our homes are mobile ’cause that’s how we roll, I’m Brooke Mosteller, Miss South Carolina.” Here, she demonstrates how to prop one up during a thunderstorm.

Come on, you know they are not safe in high winds (and fires, by the way). This is not news. And they depreciate instead of appreciate. But none of this mattered when I was young. Back then, I romanticized mobile home life, like an adult version of a fort. No attic, no basement, no five thousand dollar roof to replace every ten years. Just my size. And heck, you can take it with you when you relocate.

Come to think of it, while every home in my subdivision has .20 acres of land, our mobile home neighbors down the road all have a sweet acre. Enormous expanses of land on which to put all sorts of things, but mostly immobile vehicles. Next to a mobile home. That is ironic, right? I am not trailer-bashing; this is reality. I have been inside nice mobile homes. But dang–not that nice. Not 1952 nice. I just want to know where those trailers are, like the one above. I never see those. Do they exist?

Well, they sort of exist. Parrish Manor in Raleigh, North Carolina boasts manicured lawns (sans vehicles and tire art) and a nice pine-lined creek. Looks pretty peaceful and clean, huh?

An estimated 20 million Americans live in mobile homes, more than any other country. And they aren’t living in new ones. According to the Manufactured Housing Institute, in the late 1990s, nearly 400,000 new manufactured homes sold a year, down to 55,000 now. This necessitates more upkeep and maintenance on existing homes. Do not neglect your mobile home.

Whether it’s motivated by the freedom and mobility of the American way or simply a cycle of poverty that prevents site-built home ownership, mobile homes are here to stay. Just please–put your shirts back on.

http://www.bbc.com/news/magazine-24135022

Need more trailer posts? Check out last year’s Teepees and Trailer Homes.

Not South Dakota

Places To Go, People To Offend

All of today’s images were scanned from a January 1949 Holiday magazine that I own.
In general, I think people are too quick to be offended and play the victim card and nurse their perceived wounds. However, this ad makes me uncomfortable. Even if the intent is to portray innocent street performance, the bare feet vs. the white jackets has implications.

In the next cartoon, we see Mexicans giving a car wash. As a person who, in the course of driving through town, sees Mexicans giving car washes almost daily, this does not offend me. But I imagine the man taking a siesta might offend some, as it could be perceived as perpetuating a stereotype.

This next image shows a musician in traditional garb, with a caption revealing that his music airs the local gossip. Is this offensive? I am more concerned with how men look in dresses.

In an article about Casablanca, an image not unlike a street urchin shows a veiled girl carrying her brother.

In today’s PC market, I doubt a travel magazine could write “which you won’t care to visit except by sunlight,” but I would actually appreciate that honesty. Isn’t that what Expedia and Trip Advisor sites are for?

They continue with an assessment of the open-air markets.

Not being well-traveled myself, I cannot argue that there is not a maleficent odor. I imagine there is. I’ve seen Andrew Zimmern gut a pig on Bizarre Foods. Not every place is hygienic. Not every land is hospitable. My standard of cleanliness is quite different from some of my friends, who could do well to purchase some Clorox wipes, just like this man. I washed my hands ten times last night, handling raw chicken. So I imagine the stench of festering carcass is quite rank. I would rather know the truth before I hopped a plane across the ocean. What do you think? Are all of these offensive? Or none at all?

Places To Go, People To See, Part IV

Today we turn the clock back to June 1952.

When traveling overseas, remember to take your finest suit for maximum comfort and ease as you read the precious books by people from colorful lands.

If $675 sounds a little steep, Americans can simply stay stateside and enjoy lobster at Hugo’s on Cohasset Harbor in Massachusetts. Just remember which fork serves what purpose or Martha Stewart will go all nun on you with a knuckle-rap.

While you’re in the neighborhood, stop by the Scituate Harbor Yacht Club and chat about your summer homes on the Vineyard.

Pysch! It’s members only. You may be upper middle class, but you don’t have a yacht and you don’t belong here. One-fork people like you might enjoy a nice rental sailboat in Michigan. Yeah, that’s more your style.

What? Still can’t swing it? This is the Fabulous Fifties! Well, hold on to your hat; I’ve got just the ticket!

Take the Super-Doughnut ring (you people like doughnuts, right?) to your neighborhood pool and bask until you blister in the sun. Don’t forget to put crimson lipstick on and bring a spare patch in case you spring a leak.

Still not your speed? Take a cue from these kiddos and forget the travel! Who says you can’t have fun in your own back yard?

Poetry In Motion

The Case For Coffin Nails And Lung Darts

Smoking looks pretty fantastic in ads of yore. I may need to rethink my vices. Toweling off never looked so exhilarating.

Have you ever seen a more fetching football ensemble? It even has a place to hold her smokes. She’s ready to toss an entire carton your way.
These guys are the picture of good health. If they can smoke Camels and protect our liberty, shouldn’t you?

The problem at Christmastime is discerning which Santa to heed.

Too tough to decide? In any event, Chesterfield makes a pretty good case for evening winding-down. I could curl up inside that window into 1936. Let’s just hope she doesn’t fall asleep with the butt still burning.

Cruising With The Kuklapolitan Players

The ad says this gay cruise has gentle trade winds, but I imagine there was more rough trade than gentle.

Places To Go, People To See, Part III

Look, honey, there on the horizon–rich folk!

Not in the mood for a skin-damaging tan and a romp in the sun? Try exciting Canada!

“Treasures! Uncrowded!” Uncrowded? Is that the best selling point? I suggest:

Canada–get your prescriptions here!

You Americans can’t travel that far north? How about tropical Wisconsin? The sun literally bleached the brown out of her hair, and it will bleach the germs off you, including pesky ebola. If that’s not enough incentive, you can enjoy moderately-priced food!

Well, that’s enough travel for me. Dick and Jane bottle-feeding a fawn is cuteness overload. A full-page ad for Wisconsin and they didn’t even use the word “cheese”!

Places To Go, People To See, Part II

I thought Arizona was a desert, but I hear it’s flooding right now.

When I think of Arizona, I don’t think of lush, verdant fields and crops, much less apple trees. But that’s only because they never showed that on episodes of Alice, set in Phoenix in the 1970s.

This, however, is just as I imagine New Mexico would be, assuming both the feather-spangled Indian/Native American and conquistador are ethereal ghosts of the pasts.