Fourteen points! Can you imagine buying meat with points? War changed life on the homefront.
Down at Helin’s Grocery, you could take your pick of produce without using your blue ration coupons. That’s a good way to get folks to eat their greens.
Able-bodied men who were not overseas were able to advise ladies on fruit purchases.
But who wants cheap fruit when there’s a bakery nearby?
Smack-dab in the middle of WWII, life went on in small town America.
Fortunately, that wasn’t the only place to go for a Coke date. Baker Pharmacy was also well-stocked.
Aware that their future likely held military enlistment, teen boys from Northeast High School enjoyed the luxury of hometown life, hot food, and picture shows such as World At War.
From what I gather, a “sponsor” was like the head of the pep squad. Betty Greer (“origin of the pep”) had maids, all with modern bobbed hair. But it doesn’t sound like she sponsored in the sense of providing funds. Although–props for your nice pearls and mink stole, Betty. 
And here are the boys for whom they cheered. These youthful guys, born at the turn of the century, long gone.
Most of their kids are probably gone, too. But Berton’s hair lives on forever.
Here we see some high school class officers. The XY-gene carriers all appear fairly normal. But Norma–Norma appears to have some botched surgery. I can’t quite figure it out. Clearly a female body was present for the photo, but then someone shrunk her head a la Beetlejuice, or took a head from another pic and pushed it inside the hair. Or do you suppose her head is just oddly petite? I don’t get it.
Imposing, grand, primitive, huge…yet with human eyes and expressions, enormous black fingers delicately and expertly stripping away thorns from vegetation, possibly ignoring you altogether or looking you straight in the eye. Respect and awe is given, from human to ape.
These are the words my aunt wrote of her trip to Rwanda earlier this month, in which she was able to witness some of the last remaining mountain gorillas on the planet.
“A silverback gorilla is the mature, experienced male leader of a group of mountain gorillas in the wild. Named for the silver saddles across his back, the silverback is responsible for the safety of his group. A group of gorillas, also called a troop, can contain from 5 to 30 gorillas. The silverback decides where the troop travels, where it forages for food, where it will rest and where it will sleep at night.” (http://animals.mom.me)
You’ve seen the mustache. You’ve seen the melting clock, the one that looks like a bad acid trip. The evidence is already there.
But this is another level of crazy. I don’t mean mental illness. Although, yes, perhaps that. I mean stranger than fiction. Here we see Dalí in a Johnny Depp bob, seated near his wife, Gala. Gala was already in an open marriage when she met Dalí, but decided to divorce her then-husband, poet Paul Eluard, yet continued to sleep with him while now married to Dalí. Yes, that makes sense.
Anyhoo, that’s a Hereford bull sprawled on the crumpled carpet of Mrs. Caresse Phelps Crosby, herself involved in an open marriage (and suicide pact, not to mention ample drug abuse and writing porn as a lark). Crosby, preparing for a ball one night, despised her corset and instead fashioned two handkerchiefs and ribbon into a bra with needle and thread. Of this she said, “I can’t say the brassiere will ever take as great a place in history as the steamboat, but I did invent it.”
Speaking for most American women, I couldn’t care less about a steamboat. But I thank you for the bras.
Just in case that surrealist scene isn’t odd enough, try to wrap your head around this. Per www.telegraph.co.uk, Dalí filled up a white Rolls Royce Phantom II with 500kg of cauliflower and drove it from Spain to Paris in December 1955. The reasoning was, he later told an audience of 2,000, that “everything ends up in the cauliflower!” He explained to American journalist Mike Wallace three years later that he was attracted to their “logarithmic curve.” Because that makes sense.
And listverse.com tells of a five-year-old Dalí pushing his friend off a bridge with no railing. Just for fun. Dalí is also noted as saying, “Hitler turned me on in the highest…His fat back, especially when I saw him appear in the uniform with the Sam Browne belt and shoulder straps that tightly held in his flesh, aroused in me a delicious gustatory thrill originating in the mouth and affording me a Wagnerian ecstasy.”
And if that doesn’t turn Dalí off to you forever, I don’t know what could. Enjoy your weekend.
It’s hard to effectively capture an image of nighttime rainfall, but this pic from the ’73 Indiana University yearbook did a nice job. It’s the kind of shot that sets a mood and makes you want to write a short story.
Here’s the Von Lee on a frosty winter’s day.
And check this one out, during heavy rainfall. I’d want to get my feet out of that oily water.
This one from http://www.brosher.com is priceless. Sunset practically explodes behind the Von Lee. Gorgeous.
Isn’t this a great image, so full of action and gratitude? Mrs. Hale, the wife of a British soldier, is shown offering troops tea and refreshments in front of her home, as a show of military support while her husband fought in France. After tea, if she was up to it, she was known to play a little accordion.
And sometimes, when you extend a kindness to others, they will pay it forward.
This method looks like it leaves a lot of room for error. Did any of you ever pop popcorn in the hearth this way? Did it taste better than microwave?
In the late 1970s, the powers that be decided that foreheads were only useful as a canvas to showcase bangs, and forehead skin should be hidden altogether. By the fall of 1979, most hip teens had followed suit and were ready freddy for school picture day.
Even Caucasion afros came forward. Baby, you make my love come down.
Often, blond boys were indistinguishable from blond girls.
Then there’s this style, which would later morph into the “He wants you, too, Malachi” style from Children of the Corn.
Fashion’s dictates did not exclude any creed nor color. Rules is rules.
This girl missed the memo. She thought Marcia Brady was still groovy. By January, she was being homeschooled.
Judge Reinhold got the memo, but he got it late. Bless his heart.
Covered foreheads made dudes look hot, like poor men’s Oak Ridge Boys. How did the ladies ever decide upon a suitor?
Coveted styles included The Future Domestic Violencer, The Camaro On Blocks, and The 7-11 Graveyard Shift.
But if the goal was to entirely cover the forehead, to the extent that one’s eyesight was in peril, then there could only be one victor. Steve Wagner, you were that man.
I Don't Get It 