Category: Fun

It’s Just Me, Myself, & I

During these heady times, it’s hard to refrain from going stir crazy. But keep in mind that cabin fever is always better than lowgrade fever. Even the President said a hell-to-the-no when Birx mentioned her fever.

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In the words of Nirvana, stay away.

Running out of ideas for solo activities? Well, let’s take a cue from history.

You could make a pyramid, reminiscent of the wonder of the world. You will be self-isolating, so no one will see your Daisy Dukes or judge your ale intake.

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You could bundle up under the covers and read a good book, or just the Cliff’s Notes.

Catch up on the funnies in your paper.

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You could science up and create a vaccine.

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Or spend time with microfilm. How long has it been?

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Try tobacco! And maybe write the Great America Novel while you’re at it!

Lie on your bed (but first take your saddle oxfords off because the virus can stay on the soles of your shoes for days) and think about yesterday, when all your troubles seemed so far away.

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Pick up the telly and place a call to an elder relative whom you usually avoid because conversations with them are meandering and taxing and oppose your belief system.

If spring has sprung in your town, pack a sack lunch and head over to a nearby park, spray the entire bench with Lysol, sit down, and enjoy a snack, while hearing the mating calls of the doves.

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And if you are part of the unfortunate “essential” few who have to be in public, remember to wear your mask.

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Who’s Ready To Get Out Of Quarantine?

Western Hills High School 1978

Today we spotlight the students of WHHS in 1978. “Let us out! Let us out!” they shout to the hills.

Maybe you’re feeling like this girl right now. You can’t even.

Maybe you’re delirious with cabin fever, or you’re wearing the same shirt three days in a row, the one in desperate need of spot treatment with stain remover. Seriously, you need to Shout that out, girl.

No doubt about it, emotions are running high these days.

There might even be some name-calling going on.

But you can still make an effort to communicate with your spouse, maybe over a couple of Dr. Peppers.

Ladies, there’s no excuse not to don your “Foxy Lady” belt to entice him during quarantine.

Especially if he’s a super hunk.

And if he’s not feeling randy, you can always spend time with a good book.

Just remember: we’re in this together, and before long, we’ll all be hanging out again.

But for now, we’ll have to make do with drive-by waving.

Choo Choo Chuesday

Today is Tuesday Travel day (but not for you or anyone else on this planet right now), and today’s mode of travel is TRAINS. My granddad loved trains, often joining the engineer up front, donning the requisite engineer cap. While most of his train schedules and pamphlets are normal map-sized (the kind we once bought at gas stations), none of today’s images are larger than your hand. Most measure only five inches tall.

The majority are from 1934-1935, but this one is about to hit the century mark.

Folks back then would have needed a good pair of glasses to read the small font to find a route and a fare to their destination.

Advertising air conditioning was very important.

Even if was glaringly racist.

It certainly sounds necessary, after reading about the “torrid, sooty blasts from open windows.”

The font and artwork are still eye-catching after all these years.

The luncheon options, however, would not fare so well today. Ox tongue? Prune whip? Prune cornbread? What on earth?

Perhaps you’d be better served by keeping your appetite until you hit the Fred Harvey counter at Union Station (where Harvey Girls served up lunch). Fred Harvey advertisements were ubiquitous on time cards.

Why, even Judy Garland was a Harvey Girl in the movies!

And she sang about the Atchison, Topeka and the Santa Fe, which were all train routes.

What about you all? Have you ever ridden a train? Did you get a cool time card? Where were you going?

 

Eye On The Prize

She’s not listening to a word about Ken’s board meeting. Why? Because Old Forester, that’s why. It’s not called Old Banker for a reason, Ken.

But Meg’s not the only with her eye on the prize.

Behold, Irish eyes are smiling. And why wouldn’t they be? It’s a lovely day to be outdoors in the piney woods, jaunty green hat askew, sporting a thick gold wedding band, smell of beef charring in the air. Somehow, there’s an endless tap of beer in the park. Keep it flowing.

Why? Because dextrins and maltose and B-complex vitamins, like your doctor said. It does a body good, and pairs well with burgers and horseshoes. Cheers to healthful values!

Chevro-Lay On Top Of Me Because That’s Normal

I guess I don’t get the artistic vision of this ad. To me, I see a car unable to simply cross a shallow stream, a driver who has abandoned his vehicle, and a half-naked woman pressed against the windshield, foot whimsically in the air, brick at her side.

Of course, that’s sexist. SHE could have very well been the driver when the LSD kicked in. She drove right into a creek. She took her clothes off. She got on top of the car to get a better view of the melting dancing hippos inside. But the brick? I don’t get it.

July 1959, Bel Air 2 door sedan

Don’t Worry; It’s Not Racist

1959

I learned early on the importance of a strong comb from 70s icon Fonzie, although most of the time–he didn’t need it.

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And for the record, Fonzie wasn’t racist either.

 

Ripsnortin’ And Rootin’ Tootin’

1948 Ventana

As you can well see, we are less than a month until All Western Days. I realize we are in a bit of pandemic pickle as of late, but I see no reason to cancel every event everywhere, especially if it proves to be ripsnortin’. Don’t let it put a hitch in your giddyup.

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Desperate Times Call For Desperate Bottled Water Alternative

1984 Cactus, by Philip Barr

Perhaps your grocery shelves are bare of bottled water thanks to the numero 19 virus . The good news is that it flows in the pipes in your home. Is it nasty? Put a couple filters on it, like we do. We have the best-tasting agua in the neighborhood.

But should your water supply run low (perhaps you are out and about, as the CDC has scolded us not to, even though it’s Spring Break, and most breaks have now become four weeks instead of one, and no sane teenager is going to stay home for a one month vacation, so off to spread some virus they shall go), remember that Coors Light is basically the same thing. Just worse.

Easter Crucifix Hairdos Offer Form Over Function

Nat Geo 1931 by Wilson and MacKinnon

I know what you’re thinking.

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In fairness, these Aborigines were all gussied up for the corroborree (lively social gathering), where they had plans to perform a “wild duck dance” wearing said grass and feather head ornaments.

They don’t look too thrilled about the pending festivities. Personally, I wouldn’t chance the neck pain or misalignment of the spine that such weight could cause. And that’s why I don’t get invited to corroborrees.

Proper Pawmenship

Among my granddad’s endless child-of-the-Depression-era keepsakes (honestly, I should start a blog just called THAT, since it could last into the next century), was this signed (pawmenship, not penmanship) image of Rin Tin Tin himself. Does he look focused or forlorn? They really should have posed him looking up. In any event, he died the next year in 1932. Other RTT’s succeeded him, but he was the legit and only German Shepherd rescued from a World War I battlefield.

Far be it for Ken–L-Ration not to send advertising and pimp their products to young kids (like my gramps) who sent off for them. After all, it’s what Rin Tin Tin ate.