Sometimes trees are the enemy.
Treehuggers Beware
Category: Nostalgia
Table for Two
4th Annual Readers’ Poll April 1988
Today we delve into the bowels of one of my former teen mag subscriptions, “Star Hits,” for the 4th Annual Readers’ Poll Results. The cover reveals the top stars of April 1988. Check out who’s included in the Most Promising New Acts.
Duran Squared’s own John Taylor topped the list of most desirables, with those pouty lips and bedroom eyes.
George Michael’s video was voted the 4th best video of 1987. As it turned out, the limelit half of Wham! (Bam, thank you, Sir, may I have another?) actually did NOT want pretty Asian model’s sex. Not remotely. Not even in a filthy public restroom with e-coli-covered stalls.
The lyrics should have given us a clue:
There’s things that you guess and things that you know
There’s boys that you can trust and girls that you don’t
Girls are untrustworthy, huh? Perhaps that should have been included on the Bummer of the Year. Michael Jackson’s comeback was determined to be the biggest bummer. And Iran/Contra was number four??
But the most interesting reads are what the stars themselves chose. Siouxsie Sioux’s most desirable pick was Yul Brynner. The King and I? At least she didn’t have the nerve to list herself, as Andy Fletcher did.
And note the difference in tone maturity level between the choices of former GoGo’s singer Belinda Carlisle and the Beastie Boys (R.I.P. MCA).
Who knew Belinda was so mad about Fred Astaire, and so rocked by the PTL scandal?(R.I.P. Tammy Faye Bakker.) And The Beastie Boys chose Sssss-Samantha Fox as the BEST female singer? Is that because she sang from her diaphragm so well? I won’t hate on her; naughty girls need love, too.
All Aboard For Summer Vacation!
Truck Stop Weary, Numero Quatro
Hands down, this is the guy. This is the guy you want leaning intimately into you, inviting you to be in cahoots with him, to share the secrets he’s learned on the road.
Forgive me. I was premature in my assumption. THIS is the guy.
Yes, the one with the mutton chops, driving his Rebel Flag-decked out Bandit up to California. Is he sucking a Lemonhead? Is he dipping Skoal? He’s a man of mystery. I just feel a strong sense of… Gary Sandy surrounding him. Yes, that’s it. He must be related to Gary Sandy. You know, Andy Travis from WKRP?
Whoa. Is it hot in here? I’m feeling faint, and it’s not a touch of Johnny Fever. Believe me. Okay, time to refocus. Surely, there’s some trucker in this book who can compete with an aging sitcom star.
Um. No. That is NOT the ticket. Perhaps this young fella?
His head says Yankee, but his body says Confederacy. Who has time for a cocksure whippersnapper with an identity complex? Not me. I haven’t got time for the pain. Okay, let’s spin the wheel. Surely there’s SOMEONE.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHH! Make it stop!
Youth League Roller Derby
What else is there for a toddler to do in the aftermath of Nazi-ravaged Warsaw, Poland but skate her cares away in the rubble and cess?*
*My best-guess caption
The Only Rhianna I Like
Just saw this hilarious video on the Fresh 102.5 blog, but it’s much easier to just watch on YouTube. If you like funny 80s movie references, it will delight you to no end. It did for me!
Comin’ Up On Juneteenth
If you’re not from the United States, you may not realize that each state celebrates different “Emancipation Days,” depending on which date slaves learned of their freedom. When Abraham Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation on September 22, 1862, it was set to go into effect on January 1, 1863. Obviously, the states that were not yet a part of The Union would have no cause to celebrate. Kansas entered the Union as the 34th state in 1861, but West Virginia did not enter as the 35th state until June of 1863.
This is what The Union flag looked like at that time. Feel free to count the stars!
In Texas, Emancipation Day is celebrated on June 19. It commemorates the announcement of the abolition of slavery made on that day in 1865, when Union General Gordon Granger stood on the balcony of Galveston’s Ashton Villa to read the contents of “General Order No. 3”:
The people of Texas are informed that, in accordance with a proclamation from the Executive of the United States, all slaves are free. This involves an absolute equality of personal rights and rights of property between former masters and slaves, and the connection heretofore existing between them becomes that between employer and hired labor. The freedman are advised to remain quietly at their present homes and work for wages. They are informed that they will not be allowed to collect at military posts and that they will not be supported in idleness either there or elsewhere.
In Texas, that day has been an official state holiday since 1980. We call it Juneteenth, a name coming from a portmanteau of the word June and the suffix, “teenth”, as in “Nineteenth“, coined by 1903. (Thank you, Google.)
Also in 1903, a book was published on U.S. Presidents, which I have in my collection.
Except for a loose binding, it’s in remarkably good shape for a 110-year-old. God willing we should all live to such a ripe old age. I keep it as reference for the next generation, since history is constantly being rewritten by present dictators publishers. As the Academy Award-winning movie Lincoln showed us last year, interest in President Lincoln has not faded. This book paints a loving portrait of the “awful smart chap.” CLICK TO ENLARGE.
As the audience is “young people,” the tone is consistent in its intent, which I find endearing. Here it explains why a tender-hearted Lincoln did not have each deserter shot dead, per accepted war protocol.
“While the world lasts, no one will ever forget the Emancipation Proclamation of Abraham Lincoln.” Let’s hope not.
The Poor Man’s Six Flags
Today I showcase a fascinating assortment of another favorite picture book of mine, In Search of the Corn Queen. In it, Greta Pratt shares pictures of various county fairs in the American Midwest. Some are hopeful; some are hopeless. But all are a window into small town celebration.
This one gives me a glimpse of that adolescent excitement over what could be, with the whole world laid out before you, an endless possibility.
Like I said, boy, all you gotta do is pop 10 balloons to win those skateboards on the wall. It’s a piece of cake. Would I steer you wrong?
Drench the volleyball coach!
Dang, I thought I was hot, but she’ll totally be hotter than me in ten years, when I’m like, ancient or something.
I learned it from watching you, Dad.
No, that’s cool. You just sit in your overalls on the tailgate, and I’ll hold our wriggling young’un and try to down this cup of Mad Dog before I get pregnant again.
High point of the afternoon; winning bundt cake in the last round of the cake walk.
Good clean fun or a gateway to Spring Break mud wrestling?
Two tickets for a dollar, six tickets per ride, means three dollars for the ferris wheel, or I could just blow it all on a Fanta and funnel cake. What to do? What to do?
No, I am absolutely not living vicariously through my grandbaby.
Oh, yeah, life goes on. Long after the thrill of living is gone.
Cap ‘n’ Gowntime
Recession be damned! The world awaits you, graduating seniors–who were born when Shania Twain hit the video scene, cavorting about in midriff-baring vests like a show pony, which, incidentally, seems like it happened early Tuesday. See how time flies? No matter! You’re a high school graduate now. March into college with your chin held high! Inevitable burden of student debt be damned!
Can’t you see the looks on those happy teen’s faces above? The world is your oyster! Actually, that guy has quite a firm set of crow’s feet there, doesn’t he? And that receding hairline. Is he a senior or a senior? Whatever, I’m getting sidetracked. The point is, high school is over. So over. So yay! Although you will think about it intermittently over the next few decades, as you fret over lost relationships or struggle with regret and forgiveness and bitterness.
But whatever–your generation has the benefit of social media! Like, you GREW UP with it already existing. You know all about apps and tweets and those stupid things like L8R that young people text, which isn’t even connected to proper English. Do you even know how to write cursive?
Anyway, the point is that life is like lying on a bed of daisies from here on out. That picture reveals all. Granted, it was taken in June 1941, so I guess those teens are your grandparent’s age? Oh, great-grandparents? Damn. Well, look how happy they were. Maybe technically we weren’t fighting in WWII yet, so the future looked bright at that moment. Of course, by December, there was Pearl Harbor and then you know what followed. Oh, you don’t? WTH? Don’t they teach History anymore?
So what happened was the Allies won ultimately. Cool, huh? And then there was peace and young people moved into cookie cutter houses like Levittown and all was right. Except then there was the Korean War. And the Cold War. And Vietnam. That one didn’t work out; you can see the aftermath of that on street corners. You’ve probably never heard of the Falkland Island War or Desert Storm… Anyway, the Berlin Wall came down, so it’s all good. Except for the Middle East and North Korea and the debt to China. But things will totally work out. Ebb and flow, you guys. You got this. Totally.
And just in case you’ve never heard this SUNSCREEN song (which I still cannot FATHOM is as old as YOU ARE), take heed: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I5NAPZp2w-o. It’s a way better motivational speech than I could ever give.
Dream Big, They Said
Here it is in a nutshell: the reality of 1:30am bar life. Verbena sees the 2:00am last call on the horizon. Semisonic will play “Closing Time,” and the jukebox will stop, the lights will come up, and the illusion will shatter. But in this brief moment, with Lloyd’s arm around her, his warm bourbony breath on her cheeks, and fiery hot nuts so accessible and so amazingly affordable, life is good.
This is one of the most telling portraits from Henry Horenstein’s book HonkyTonk, a book of fascinating black and white portraits he took mostly from the country and western scene in the 1970s. It’s hard to narrow a brief selection down, but there are sites that showcase many of them, such as http://clampart.com/2012/07/honky-tonk-portraits-of-country-music-2/#/13. However, I prefer to leaf through the book itself and create my own back stories.
Is Earl waxing nostalgic for his salad days, missing the boys in his high school rockabilly band, before the tattoos and the Kool habit? Before Arlene cheated with Vernon, his supposed best friend, and then a twister took Vernon to his maker, and isn’t that sweet justice?
Lookin’ for love in all the right places.
Last call indeed.
Hey, Ladies
The ladies of DPS knew how to live large near the tail end of The Great Depression. And boy howdy, could they tilt a hat just so!
As the war got into full swing, women assumed roles formerly filled by men, and literally got their hands dirty.
But women with administrative duties were not left idle; check out the STACKS of driver license applications behind Cicely and Mrs. Miller.
After the war ended, applications continued to pour in.
Meanwhile, lucky teens were trying their hands at the new Aetna Steerometer, which simulated driving conditions.
Student drivers got to take a spin in the snazzy Studebaker training car. Hold on to your boater straw hats, gents! Maybe they’re going to pick up the fourth member of their barbershop quartet?
As the years rolled by, DPS workers changed with the times, as seen by the lovely hairdos of Ms. Davis and Ms. Deeds, bookending a stern bespectacled Gene Kelly.
But secretary Tom was not about to be upstaged.
She knew how to stay abreast of current trends.
Some women were forced to wear uniforms, so they had to assert their individuality with enormous glasses. Three of these people are actually women.
But let’s go out on a high note, with the cheery Loveboat-cruise director smile of Ms. Stade and the blonde wings of love about to give Ms. Steele lift-off into space.
And with that, we close the chapter on DPS. Remember that it’s the end of May, if you’re inspection sticker is almost due. You wouldn’t want to get ticketed.
I Don't Get It 