










And look! You could even get a FREE copy of the Declaration sent to you! No handling fee; just postage.












And look! You could even get a FREE copy of the Declaration sent to you! No handling fee; just postage.



Setting: First day of school, fall 1939, at the University of Puerto Rico in Rio Piedras.
Plot: Same old song and dance. Upperclassmen defile face of newbie frosh. Onlookers smile. Well-dressed people spank each other with paddles.
Y’all, I just don’t get it. I don’t get hazing. I didn’t do the Greek scene. I would never have allowed myself to be humiliated like that. But golly, it’s in every single one of my yearbooks. The tradition continues!
People have always been cruel, since the first brothers to exist, Cain and Abel, became murderer and murderee. Honestly, murderee rolls off the tongue better than victim. Why don’t we say that instead? Anyhoo, the point is that violence always has been and always will be, and praying for world peace (which Andie McDowell’s foolish character did in Scrooged) is like trying to boil the ocean, as they say.

Fun fact to temper bitterness: That looming tower is the FDR Tower, which contains a carillon of 25 bells. What’s a carillon? A set of bells.
The tower still stands today (unless Dorian takes it out).

It commemorates then-president Franklin D. Roosevelt, and will remain named after him until future generations decide they don’t agree with something he did–at which point, it will either be renamed in honor of a more PC and palatable figure–or toppled altogether in the name of retribution.

Sure, it looks ragtag and uncomfortable. But this 1939 stout shelter provided great protection from hurricane winds. Located near Caguas, the corrugated iron roof was secured with wire and crossed railroad ties to anchor it down.


Ah, 1965. Overhead projectors and horn-rimmed (NOT “horn rim”) glasses graced every classroom. And even then, the rims were not made of actual horn or tortoiseshell, but of plastic. All the better to see you with, my dear.
Some technology was old-school, like this microscope being used by a lad with a healthy head of Elvisian locks.

But new advancements had been made for this first year of German language lab. Bonus points if you can tell me what all those little chess-piece-looking things are.

Corded phones were still the only choice for office secretaries.


And there was this thing for numbers. Watch those bangs, sister.

Home Ec was called “industrial arts” at this particular high school.

While what we term regular “art” was still funded and practiced. Swell job, Peg!

Shop was called “Distributive Education.”

This was called “horseplay” and not cause for litigation.

Flirting was alive and well.

And teen silliness prevailed at the Junior-Senior Dance. What a lovely pair!

Now if I could only remember my locker combination…



Sorry, Yaya. No fist bumps today. Hope that black isn’t absorbing all the heat from the sun. She looks happy enough. Even her left eyebrow is smiling. Somehow.

And you would, too, if you lived in Santorini, the croissant-shaped Greek island. Why, just look at it!




That little red Fiat 500 was a first-year Model A (produced from 1936 to 1948), the smallest car in the world at the time. Italians (like those in this shot in Rome’s Mussolini Stadium) dubbed the midget coupe Topolino (“little mouse” in Italian).

Topolino was also the name of this very famous mouse. Yep, that’s their name for Mickey.

But evidently, cartoons didn’t set well with Fascists back when that photo was taken. Per theguardian.com, “Comics were seen as a vehicle for the values of the Anglo-Saxon democracies … and Mickey Mouse was the last of the American cartoon heroes to be banned because he was a particular favourite with Mussolini’s children; they were among the very few Italians who were able to defy their father with impunity.”
The controlling craziness went so far as to forbid use of “speech balloons” in any comics at all. Who knew the life of a Fascist cartoonist was so hard?
For your further edification, according to hellogiggles.com, Donald Duck goes by “Paolino Paperino” (not pepperoni), Daisy Duck by “Paperina,” and Goofy is “Pippo,” yet for some reason Pluto is still Pluto and Minnie still Minni (close enough).



The principal of Virginia’s Hammond High makes his request known to the lunch lady, who seems exceedingly inspired by the proposition. She cannot wait to tell the others, who have nothing else to do but concoct new dipping sauces.

This is what a high school kitchen looked like way back in 1965. No shortage of rolls.
When everyone ate gluten, you could eat rolls and bread at the same meal. Did you ever eat Bond bread?

And lest you think sweet-chili-and-pickle sauce sounds less than palatable, take a gander at this image.

Sometimes presentation is EVERYTHING.
