Sadie Hawkins Glory

1943 Recall

I have enough 1940s yearbooks to confirm that Sadie Hawkins dances, based on the then-popular L’il Abner strip, were a HUGE DEAL. Nowadays, not so much. In fact, my son’s high school had one scheduled earlier this month, and it was cancelled due to low ticket sales. Eight tickets, to be exact. And keep in mind, all the other dances have been packed.

What does that say about today’s youth? Aren’t women enlightened enough to ask boys to the dance? That’s the whole point of it. Or is it an outdated concept altogether, since boys now ask boys and girls ask girls? Every high school around here has its share of transgender kids who were named Katie in 8th grade and now go by Collin. Or perhaps teens just don’t like donning hillbilly garb–although I think they nixed that part long ago. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen anyone in overalls in a few decades.

In any event, the times sure have changed.

Living In The Present

Keeping up with teenspeak is hard. It’s enough that technology is ever changing, and staying abreast of all the texting acronyms can be exhausting. As soon as you graduate high school, you become more and more out of touch with popular culture. Adulting comes with new responsibilities, and there is no time (or context) to stay on top of new trending terms. Even if you DO learn juvy jargon, you sound foolish saying, “Whatevs” or yelling “Yeet!” these days. But you do it anyway, if you are a parent or a teacher, to make the children uncomfortable, and to show them that you have a thin, however out of context, grasp on NOW.

But you do not. You cannot. There’s too much to stay on top of. For example, you may be aware that Adidas are the cool shoes and that only white soles are acceptable, but you (in your adultness) need arch support and crosstrainers, so you wear Dad shoes. “Dad shoes” are a thing. Google it. Teens love to dis Dad shoes. They are the chunky peanut butter to the creamy, sleek, current styles. Teens do not wear New Balance. You may even think you are cool and say, “Damn, Daniel” at shoes, but that is so 2000 and late, which in itself is an antiquated reference and makes me #tired. PS, hashtags are so over. If you don’t know what any of this means, your kids are probably grown. These are Dad shoes, and a teen would not be caught dead in them.

Parent a teen is exhausting in itself, but trying to keep up with their music is beyond demanding. Isn’t it enough that I watched Post Malone on the Elvis special last week? (Yep, he’s the rapper with the face tats.) Did y’all catch that last week? It honored the 50 year anniversary of Elvis’s ’68 Comeback Special. FIFTY YEARS. You know, the one where he wore all black leather. I watched it, staying open-minded and seeing Post pic and play in his yellow suit, which reminded me of Nudie suits of yore. And son of a gun, if he wasn’t pretty good. But it’s hard to like new music.

All this to say, I learned a new thing today (realizing that most whippersnappers  already know this and are horrified that I just learned it), but I’m sharing it with those other out-of-touchers, as I would hope you would Golden Rule me and keep me abreast of the things.

Yes, I was today years old (that’s another thing they say) when I learned TL;DR (too long; didn’t read). It’s a comment people make on a long-winded post, which is IRONIC because this post is already so long! It’s the very essence of TL;DR. You should call me Post MaLONG. See how lame that sounds? That’s because old people puns are cringey. I know because my teen tells me every day. TL;DR even has its own wikipedia on Twitter.

So that’s it for today, peeps. Go out into the interwebs and use your new abbreviation. TTYL.

 

*And don’t you dare comment TL;DR! 😉

Mad About Milk

Hometown USA

The milk isn’t sour, but the looks on these lasses sure are. The middle makes the picture. A bearded geezer and a man hoofing a canister. Love it! AJ Earp took this pic in 1905 at the Cliff Owen dairy farm in Winchester, Kentucky. The milk was probably raw and definitely whole. I don’t trust folks who drink skim.

The Popular Cork Room

Rare is the moment I get a yearbook pic without documenting the source. All I know about this source is that it was mid-60s and probably in Texas. In any event, I love the font on the Cork Room sign above. What I don’t get is why the other sign appears to say DROGS, not DRUGS.

But it wasn’t drugs that made this ‘do. Only black magic and sorcery could have enabled Lynda to achieve these “Kentucky Waterfall” tresses. Lynda shoots and scores on volume! 

This last one looks shows an era-specific soundboard with a not-so era-specific blond haircut. Must have seemed cutting edge at the time. 

Getting Old Beats The Alternative

Mrs. TJ Vaughn (Horace’s Aunt Cap) Dec 49, San Antone

1935 San Antone

Cactus 1978
Pinterest
Cactus 79-Pioneer Farm Fall Fest, Eula Denver
Pinterest

All The Single Ladies

http://historydaily.org

This is how I imagine it feels to be on a dating site, trying to find matches. The actual explanation goes as such:

A picnic at the California Alligator Farm in the 1920s, located in the Lincoln Heights neighborhood of Los Angeles between 1907 and 1953. The farm had 20 ponds for the trained alligators where patrons could mingle freely with them. Visitors were told not to “throw stones at the alligators, spit on, punch or molest them in any way.”

 

Beater Bonfire

AP Images

90 years ago, the US was already overrun with 40 million cars (ompare that to the 276 million registered vehicles today). Many of those were on their last leg. Chicago car dealers promoted Used Car Week by stacking jalopies nearly 50 feet high on an island in Lake Michigan, where they torched them. 100,000 folks gathered to watch the flames of 200 cars fill the air.

I don’t know if you’ve ever smelled one of these, but they don’t smell pleasant.

http://www.sciencenewsforstudents.org

Mixed Emotions

I got a new yearbook today, y’all. It’s a 1955 University of Miami. This shot was taken from UM’s 124 piece member band trip to El Salvador. It captures the response of El Salvadorans as the UM band helped celebrate the nation’s independence as “ambassadors of goodwill.”

This yearbook is RIPE, though, y’all. Frankly, I wouldn’t be surprised if you can smell the stale cigarette smoke wafting off the pages of this thing. It made my pants reak, just touching my lap. I think she can smell it.