Look closely (double-click) and you can see the fizzy carbonation shooting up into the air!
I really don’t understand how people can cut out soda in their diet. Soda makes me so happy. Despite the empty calories, the caffeine, and the high fructose corn syrup, I still delight in those tiny bubbles. And, no, mineral water/club soda is not the same. At all.
Sunrise on this balmy Friday morning
Remember 1902? Me, neither. This book does. It’s all sorts of “m” words: musky, mildewy, moldy. That’s what happens when you’re over 100. You can see the date at the very bottom.
It’s chock full of stories, poems, and pictures by dead people. This groom looks rather serene on his honeymoon. He basks in the memory of the previous night, while she chooses which add-ins to order for her three-egg omelette. Sounds about right.
Included is a Poe poem (aha! one letter’s difference!), which inspired the post title. No, I don’t know what it means. If I did, my blog would be called, “I Very Much Get It.” Clearly, I do not.
I also don’t get why this painting is titled “Bringing Home The Bride.” Whose home is this?
Pardon me, but why are there old people at her home? Why is that septuagenarian helping the bride disrobe in front of her grandpa? Children at bay windows are witnessing this! Gossip is being told to Teddy Roosevelt. Men lifting suitcases on the staircase should mind their own business. Truth be told, the departure from home seems much more lively. Perhaps she should continue departing.
This volume also includes the courtship of not Eddie’s father, but instead, Miles Standish. I particularly enjoy this line: “She could not walk, he said, through the dust and heat of the noonday; Nay, she should ride like a queen, not plod along like a peasant.” I hear that.
And what do you think of this?
This couple gazing admirably at her ring–it’s very sweet, isn’t it? And who wouldn’t be excited to be engaged to the fourth musketeer? FYI, musketeers protected royal families. I wonder if the little babe of Windsor, soon to be birthed, will have its own private musketeer? No, wait, that’s only French royal families. Nevermind.
Here is an excerpt from The Bride of Lammermour:
Oh, my gosh, you guys. Don’t you HATE reading dialect? What the what? How am I to comprehend the mumblings of a paralytic hag? As if.
Now I thought Romeo & Juliet were supposed to be about fourteen years old. Romeo looks considerably older than that in this picture. Like he could possibly see rated R movies. I think we all know what happens next.
And here we are at the precursor to Say Yes To The Dress.
Is that guy the tailor? He seems pretty smug. Or is that the groom? If so, he shouldn’t be seeing her before the wedding. He’s quite the dandy, no? And what’s with the girl? Is she praying for a similar dress one day or already consumed with thoughts of the reception playlist. “Please play ‘Celebrate’ by Kool and the Gang or I shall just die…”
Read this ditty, and you may be disturbed, and I don’t mean by heaving breasts.
I would have had a heaping helping of sassy backtalk from my bridesmaids, should I have forced them to become Corsican like me. Yeesh.
Now observe this lovely portrait.
It takes a village to make a wedding. And a nice top hat.
And don’t kid yourselves, ladies:
Yes, it’s ugly as sin, but it still beats the daylights out of those damn omnipresent swooshes. I HATE swooshes! Swooshes belong on Nikes, not recreational vehicles. I had fully intended to prepare an entire dissertation on this scourge, but dangit–somebody already did. To see examples of other hideous RVs such as this one decorated by drunk Zorro,
visit: http://2penniesworth.com/2010/08/30/the-good-the-bad-the-ugly-rv-graphics/. Nothing says gas-guzzling cross-country road trip like some ugly decals. This is a travesty!
Is Gramps exhausted from potting plants, feebleminded, or just overjoyed that the woman behind him poured just the right amount of head into his glass? To me, it appears as thought the pretty colors and bubbles have him entranced. Limit yourself to one glass, okay? Remember what the doctor said about mixing Coumadin and alcohol?
Look how Rick holds that glass of Schlitz up, just of out reach for poor Joanne Woodward’s body double. Is he wearing pajamas? Why don’t her gloves match? I don’t get it. This is all very donkey and carrot to me.
I believe this depiction represents the best of both worlds, Hannah Montana. Gardening is getting done AND beer is being enjoyed. He has his own glass; she has hers. The weather is lovely. He’s pensive; is that a mortgage bill in his hand? Who cares? With argyle socks and a butterfly apron, you can never go wrong.
What’s snazzier than this red retro television set?
Perhaps this dapper turtle riding down a slide in his OWN shell?
If you pull the lever at the bottom right, he really does slide. See?
And in keeping with the red theme, here’s a keen card for a grandson.
I don’t know Gramp and Gram from Adam, but I bet they were fine grandparents. Who wouldn’t feel loved, receiving one of these, assuming kids actually READ them?
In my stack of vintage greeting cards, I found this cute birthday card manufactured by Gibson. Perfect for a parent who isn’t a perfectionist…
They don’t make ’em like that any more.
…it’s Dos Equis. Actually, that’s not true. I very rarely drink beer, and I can’t recall the last time I had a Dos Equis. But the fact that that tagline is in my head means Dos Equis did a hell of a job marketing their beer with their pitchman, The World’s Most Interesting Man–who, incidentally, reminds me of Ricardo Gonzalo Pedro Montalbán y Merino, the star of Fantasy Island, which came on after Love Boat. It always comes back to Love Boat for me. It’s my seven degrees of Kevin Bacon.
Women and wine go hand-in-hand. You’ve seen the ecards.
Grapes are healthy, right? Actually, these ecards seem kind of pathetic. The women are often alone. But beer is where it’s at for socializing. Check out this ad for beer in the Fifties:
It’s not wine, women, and song, but it’s beer, women, and song. The broads are dressed to the nines, spinning tunes and knitting, while casually-dressed men smoke pipes, throw back a pint, and wave to chums down at the pier, enjoying a twilight canoe ride. The soft glow of the lantern invites you in to the scene. I love it! And why wouldn’t I? It was painted by Haddon Sundblom, the man who brought us the genius of the Coca-Cola Santa Claus, the standard by which we measure all shopping mall Santas.
Another work of art is this watercolor by John Gannam, “Around the Swimming Pool,” used in an ad for the U.S. Brewers Foundation.
Keep in mind that this was 1948, so everyone was thin. And yes, everyone was fairskinned, so not every token ethnicity is represented, the way they are sprinkled in to department store ads in current acceptable proportion these days. Just get past that, you PC freaks. The focus here is on the technique. This is ART. You an keep your abstracts; I’ll take mine uplifting like this. A sunny day, a refreshing creek (clearly without water moccasins), stylish kerchiefs, Betty Grable legs, snacks at the ready… Who wouldn’t want this life? Even the most devout teetotaler is not immune to those Tang-tinted mugs o’ ale.
I imagine that creek runs down past the neighbor’s back yard, a few doors down, where the festivities continue.
What a sweet back yard! Is that a waterfall in the background? The current looks pretty strong there in the foreground, but that’s not keeping Esther Williams from playfully flirting splashing her friend’s husband, the one hiding her first trimester pregnancy in the robe. Seriously, who wears a swim cap to a Frank Lloyd Wright back yard shindig? She must have just had her hair did. Or maybe it’s tinted pink, from an inept Beauty School drop-out. Either way, beer belongs. You better recognize.
I Don't Get It 