I am as excited as the Saturday Night Live Target lady today! Not only did I procure another ancient history yearbook for my collection, but it cost ONE DOLLAH. Yippee!
SNL Target Lady
It was during this 1963-1964 school year that JFK was shot and killed. But honestly I don’t know if that was enough to make these Oklahoma Sooners put down their cups for one second. The fraternities and sororities sure knew how to party:
I didn’t know “raise the roof” was a popular term fifty years ago, but these fun-loving Greeks were clearly raising it.
And they partied like rock stars. Even Bo Diddley got in on the action.
But partying can get out of control. I think Roger got a little too fresh with Jeanne…
Pi Kappa Alpha partied like Royals at their Dream Girl Party. No red solo cups here.
Old or young, it didn’t matter. DEKEs liked to have a good time.
Delta Kappa Epsilon
Eileen could barely contain her excitement at the TGIF Party.
Alpha Epsilon Pi
Linda screamed when a zebra-jacketed matador sat on her lap at the Bowery Ball
These Delta Gamma gals showered Ned with Christmas cheer.
Sigma Delta Tau knew their second amendment rights.
And Zeta Tau Alpha wore their sunglasses at night. Too cool for school, you guys.
I don’t know what message this Victorian Christmas image is trying to convey, but it’s certainly not Christmas cheer. Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol refers to “the pudding singing in the copper,” so I can only assume this pudding decided to do a little choreographed number as well. It may be smiling, but the birdwoman is not. She looks downright alarmed. Fortunately, the lid serves as a protective shield. The message here: pudding is dangerous, albeit polite.
I (like most Americans) am not familiar with what a Christmas pudding actually looks or tastes like. When Americans think “pudding,” we think chocolate pudding and Bill Cosby. Pudding is not hard and aggressive; it is soft and creamy.
In my mind, the copper pot pudding resembles a yummy fried hushpuppy. Yet, I know that it most certainly is NOT a hushpuppy, because hushpuppies are “comfort food.” They do not get violent.
This holly-sprigged treat doesn’t look anything like the dessert in the birdwoman cartoon. It does, however, resemble THIS image of what appears to be a burnt meatloaf, carrying his own weapon of execution.
Charles Goodall & Son
Perhaps Brits feel the same way about Christmas pudding that Americans feel about fruitcake: unless it is drenched in brandy, why bother? The difference is, we don’t stick currency in our food.
Apparently, custom once dictated putting a coin inside the pudding, and the one who bit down on it and cracked his tooth would interpret it as a sign of good luck. The irony in this cartoon, is that the value of the pound was falling. I liken it to putting a peso in a fruitcake. You’d have to shove seven thousand inside it to make it valuable, at which point, every bite would be fraught with pesos, and everyone would need dental work. OH, I GET IT! THAT’S WHY BRITS HAVE THE REPUTATION FOR BAD TEETH. It all makes sense now. What a revelation.
Anyway,the tradition seems as foolish as slipping a wedding ring inside a cake or a glass of champagne; choking hazards are nothing to rejoice about. Unless you know the Heimlich Maneuver, I would discourage it altogether.
This is an example of irony. According to the Oxford English Dictionary “irony” is “a figure of speech in which the intended meaning is the opposite of that expressed by the words used.” Granted, the above example does not contain a figure of speech, but it contains visual irony. Out of all the spelling words, only “illiterate” was spelled correctly. And illiterate means “unable to read or write.” Get it?
Your song, “Ironic,” now notorious for not having one actual example of irony, is in itself ironic. I’m fairly certain they teach word meanings in Canada, but maybe you weren’t paying attention.
Insects in wine? Not ironic.
Posthumous pardons? Ask their families. Not ironic.
Rain on your wedding day? Not ironic. Does the humidity cause Diana Ross “Love Hangover” hair? Perhaps. But it’s still not ironic.
So why am I hassling you 18 years later? You’ve gotten enough flak, right? I don’t want to give you any more flack (that spelling actually means “publicity,” which I’m doing right now, so that’s kind of ironic, huh?) I may be tardy to the party but I finally saw this parody of your 1995 ditty.
The video is similar, yet we are spared the braying donkiness of your singing style, as well as your epileptic seizures. I hear you have that under control now.
I think it’s great that you got to have your video played back in the day on MTV before it stopped playing videos. That’s a nice thing to have notched in your lipstick case. But they also used to play ZZ Top videos. The only member of that band without a beard is Frank Beard. That’s ironic.
And get this: the Segway tycoon died riding his Segway. Ironic.
Both Charlie Chaplin and Dolly Parton entered lookalike contests for themselves and did not win. Ironic.
Barry Manilow did not write his hit song, “I Write The Songs.” Ironic.
Thanks to young Lizi the Swiveler, for nominating me for the Versatile Blogger Award!
ver·sa·tile
ˈvərsətl/
adjective, able to adapt or be adapted to many different functions or activities
As per the rules, I must nominate 15 blogs that are dripping with versatility as well. The following 15 blogs are ones which I enjoy as of late and that I’m nominating for the award (if you already have the VBA, then disregard; you don’t have to play.):
1. The World’s Top Ten by Russell, the best-looking nerd in the UK (I don’t know anyone in the UK, so I cannot argue the point.) I try to avoid serious topics most of the time because they make my head hurt, so I enjoy funny, happy, whimsical things–even if he posts a lot of cat stuff, and I loathe cats. But there is so much more than just cats, and that is versatile.
2. Pretty Little Treasures by a Belgium lady named Julie, who has lots of lovely pictures. The longer I’m on WordPress, the more I appreciate photography blogs, since one can get in and out in a matter of seconds, should one need a brief aesthetically-pleasing fix.
3. Michael’s TV Tray by (duh) Michael. His posts make me happy because I love classic pop culture, and I actually do care when a celebrity’s birthday is, as vacuous as that seems. In fact, I always wish my facebook friends happy birthday by telling them with whom they share their birthdays. Plus, Michael’s blog reminds me of a simpler time before grey hairs and nearsightedness, and I get to congratulate myself on remembering things he posts when I seem to be forgetting (rather than remembering) lately.
4.The Unorthodox Epicure by Adam. Just seeing his little gravatar face makes me feel upbeat. I feel like he’s always happy to see me, even though he has no clue who I am. Granted, he may look like Cletus T. Judd in a Toby Keith hat, but he marries confessions with recipes, and that is super versatile.
5. The Irrefutable Opinion by a woman whose name is so close to Billie Jean King that I probably just offended her by typing that. She makes me laugh and showed me what Mona Lisa would look like with bleached hair and fake Pam Anderson boobs.
6. The Fascinating Life of Eliot Benvue because it’s important to support young bloggers. And I like to hear his Scottish accent, now that he’s vlogging.
7.Florian Deutsch Fotografie by an Austrian photographer who speaks a language I can’t understand (German?), but I can still appreciate the photographs from the other side of the world.
8. I Didn’t Have My Glasses On by a grandmother who doesn’t look anything like a grandmother. I don’t have glasses but I need them, and have found that what I could read at 39, I cannot at 41. I like her blurry observations as well.
Okay, this has taken several hours to do this (partly because it’s hard to read without glasses), so I am (albeit-lamely) posted out. My apologies to the would-be other seven. I am exhausted. Small wonder Lizi the Swiveler (I want to call her Bartleby the Scrivener) can do this with youth and energy on her side.
According to the rules, I also have to post seven interesting things about myself.
1. I am a grammar Nazi.
2. I like a wedge of lime with my Coca-Cola. And I realize Coke is bad for you and filled with junk, but mercy, I love it. I love it. Freezing cold and bubbly. I want some right now.
3.I have had insomnia for 8 years and am still alive–and trust me, you can live off an hour of sleep. Over and over again. You’ll go batship crazy, but you’ll live. You’ll quit your job and lose all your benefits and income and 401K, but you’ll live–and have time to blog.
4.I can flare my nostrils.
5.I don’t really care for Mumford & Sons or anime or Enya.
6.I don’t have an iPhone or an iPad and I don’t ever want one.
7.I know way too many dead celebrity’s real names, like Nathan Birnbaum and Archibald Leach.
Whew! It’s nearly time for Jay Leno; I can’t miss that. Hey, that’s fact #8: I always watch The Tonight Show (he only has two months left, you know).
First off, let’s give thanks to the hardworking yearbook photographers, who not only captured this great winter wonderland, but would have had to do serious bicep work to carry those old school cameras.
Remember that this was an era before Liquid Paper. Imagine all the retyping that had to be done.
The editor proofs some copy, smoking what appears to be a redskin headdress feather, but may well be a blurry pipe.
And check out the fly neckties on these fellows.
Cheers to the yearbook staff of the 1949 Recensio–may you all have your own blogs on WordPress, if you are still alive.
When the sky becomes so cold that water becomes a solid, that sky needs to go away. That sky needs to summon the sunlight and warm it up to a temperature in which a human can function. Whipping biting bone-chilling wind is the devil, especially when one is trying to pump one’s overpriced gasoline into one’s aging Japanese car. Give me 110 degrees over this any day.
Okay, Canada. Okay, Yankees up there above the Mason-Dixon line. Bring it. Tell me what a wuss I am and how awesome it is to ski in frosty weather, and how your snowman is the bomb. Tell me 20 degrees ain’t nothin’, that you’ve skinnydipped in Arctic waters and liked it and you can hardly wait to do it again. No, thank you.
The weatherman predicts colder weather in the morrow, but really, does it matter? Cold is cold. And he’s not losing his job even if it turns out to be cloudy with a chance of meatballs.
When you think of Miami, you probably think of Miami, Florida. I do. Or the Will Smith song that speaks of the coastal city. You probably don’t think of Miami University in Ohio, of all places, where this picture was taken in 1949. Here is a portrait of dorm life–before cell phones, before TV, before rock ‘n’ roll–where women could look attractive in penny loafers and saddle oxfords instead of 5″ stiletto stripper heels.
I’d never even heard of Miami University, the 10th oldest public university in the United States. The university, which offered classes in 1824, existed long before Miami, Florida was incorporated as a city in 1896. And that’s one to grow on!
It means you just learned something.
These fellas seem to be enjoying campus life as well. They didn’t need no stinkin’ Blu-Ray or mobile apps to be content. Just a book and a lamp and some swanky robes.
At the time, the mascot was the Miami Redskins, but a politically correct climate necessitated a change to the Miami Redhawks. Lame.
Back then, it was also cool to smoke, especially while sunbathing–or turning your skin red. Yes, I said it.
Nowadays, it’s inadvisable to start a family while in college. And who could afford it under this administration anyway? But in the post-war years, students were often married and raising families. And evidently living in ramshackle cabooses with picket fences built by unskilled laborers.
This next gathering is a group of gals in the “Outing Group.” It’s not what you think; they went on picnics and hikes together over frostbitten leaves. And apparently, they were keen on swastikas as well.
Perhaps after a long day of hiking and antisemitic rallies, the girls would hit the town. ( To be fair, swastikas meant “it is good” for years before the Nazi party used it. Let’s take it back, people!). Downtown Oxford, Ohio offered up restaurants as well as a movie theater.
The Miami-Western Theatre (oooh, the British spelling!) prided itself on being the only diversion in a “rather dull town.”
No worries if you spilled soda pop or melted Junior Mints on your glad rags at the cinema; you could just take them on down to Redskin Cleaners.
But partying can get out of control. I think Roger got a little too fresh with Jeanne…
Pi Kappa Alpha partied like Royals at their Dream Girl Party. No red solo cups here.
Old or young, it didn’t matter. DEKEs liked to have a good time.
These Delta Gamma gals showered Ned with Christmas cheer.
Sigma Delta Tau knew their second amendment rights.
And Zeta Tau Alpha wore their sunglasses at night. Too cool for school, you guys.
I Don't Get It 
