Vintage – Page 171 – I Don't Get It

The Higher The Hair, The Closer To Jesus, Part I

However, Blinda’s Leaning Tower of Pisa is probably closer in proximity to The Pope. She’s certainly giving Deb a run for her money.

Teasing was involved on both of these Mary(s), and it appears as though a hairpiece or extension was haphazardly lobbed at their heads, with no regard for rhyme nor reason.

Donnita’s lithe neck can barely support the combined weight of coif and hardened Aqua Net. Any minute now, it could snap like a twig.

I don’t know what to say about Kathy. All I know is she’s in this yearbook twice. Same name, same pic, so it’s no misprint, people. Kathy with a K. Moving on…

1967 Tipi Bless her heart — 1967 Tipi
Bless her heart.

From the saucy smirks of the Nix Twins to Dennis’s kind eyes (which seem more 48 than 18 years old), to the barrel of whiskey hidden beneath the teased bleached locks of Regina, this pic does not disappoint.

I hate it when people say they gave 110% effort, because there is no such thing as more than the absolute total that exists. Having said that, Linda gave 110%. Have you ever seen a waterfall after a hard freeze?

But Travis. Sigh. Travis Isom, Travis Eyesore, old boy–what were you thinking with that unibrow? Read the page; Seniors Try Harder! You should try harder with some tweezers. Or a razor. This is unacceptable, Travis. Shame on you. Why couldn’t you have copied the simple brows of J.C. and Mike (who BTW, look pretty retro 50s greaser for a 1967 yearbook, if you ask me)?

And the winner of the most interesting hairdo is…Beverly’s ratty flattened mess, complimented by insanely dark arched caterpillar brows! You can bet David wouldn’t touch her with a ten foot pole! She smells like cigarettes and Binaca breath spray, and that scares the pee out of him. Does someone have a ladder so we can climb up there and crown her?

Fill ‘Er Up

A new Fort Worth Premier gas station opening in 1962 depicts great customer service for all your Chevy Impala’s needs. A sister photo reflects the steep price of gas at just over a quarter per gallon.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/seat850/3893433661/sizes/l/in/photostream/

And check it out: Buy 8 gallons of gas and for only a dollar extra, you get five place settings of fine imported silverware–enough to invite all three attendants in straw hats, as well as the two girls in modest swimwear, heels, and mod flips.

Everybody Cut Footloose

Except you, awkward white people. You need to stop.

http://pinterest.com/pin/462322717968124569/

The fine print says “Get free dance booklet at your Career Club dealer.” To those of you in your sixties (who were alive in the 60s), is that where you learned your dance moves? Your Career Club dealer? I bet your drug dealer could teach better moves. Stiff and forced, Milton practically begs for a bottle of Schlitz to loosen him up–his hand is already in position. Why, in ten minutes, he could be a poor man’s Davy Jones! I don’t recall ever seeing “the skate” performed on American Bandstand, and I can pretty well rest assured it was never on Soul Train. It looks less like skating and more like “festive ways to fart.”

Rally Round The Lawn

Don’t know who these folks are or where this was taken, but it looks to be the 1930s, according to the dresses and hairstyles. I like the ribbons in the girls’ hair, and the restless boys who can’t sit still.

I especially fancy this dress!

But I do wonder why this fella was left holding the baby.

A Gush Of Euphony Voluminously Wells

from the collection of Mrs. Kerbey I Do Not Get It

Remember 1902? Me, neither. This book does. It’s all sorts of “m” words: musky, mildewy, moldy. That’s what happens when you’re over 100. You can see the date at the very bottom.

It’s chock full of stories, poems, and pictures by dead people. This groom looks rather serene on his honeymoon. He basks in the memory of the previous night, while she chooses which add-ins to order for her three-egg omelette. Sounds about right.

Included is a Poe poem (aha! one letter’s difference!), which inspired the post title. No, I don’t know what it means. If I did, my blog would be called, “I Very Much Get It.” Clearly, I do not.

I also don’t get why this painting is titled “Bringing Home The Bride.” Whose home is this?

Pardon me, but why are there old people at her home? Why is that septuagenarian helping the bride disrobe in front of her grandpa? Children at bay windows are witnessing this! Gossip is being told to Teddy Roosevelt. Men lifting suitcases on the staircase should mind their own business. Truth be told, the departure from home seems much more lively. Perhaps she should continue departing.

This volume also includes the courtship of not Eddie’s father, but instead, Miles Standish. I particularly enjoy this line: “She could not walk, he said, through the dust and heat of the noonday; Nay, she should ride like a queen, not plod along like a peasant.” I hear that.

And what do you think of this?

This couple gazing admirably at her ring–it’s very sweet, isn’t it? And who wouldn’t be excited to be engaged to the fourth musketeer? FYI, musketeers protected royal families. I wonder if the little babe of Windsor, soon to be birthed, will have its own private musketeer? No, wait, that’s only French royal families. Nevermind.

Here is an excerpt from The Bride of Lammermour:

Oh, my gosh, you guys. Don’t you HATE reading dialect? What the what? How am I to comprehend the mumblings of a paralytic hag? As if.

Now I thought Romeo & Juliet were supposed to be about fourteen years old. Romeo looks considerably older than that in this picture. Like he could possibly see rated R movies. I think we all know what happens next.

And here we are at the precursor to Say Yes To The Dress.

Is that guy the tailor? He seems pretty smug. Or is that the groom? If so, he shouldn’t be seeing her before the wedding. He’s quite the dandy, no? And what’s with the girl? Is she praying for a similar dress one day or already consumed with thoughts of the reception playlist. “Please play ‘Celebrate’ by Kool and the Gang or I shall just die…”

Read this ditty, and you may be disturbed, and I don’t mean by heaving breasts.

I would have had a heaping helping of sassy backtalk from my bridesmaids, should I have forced them to become Corsican like me. Yeesh.

Now observe this lovely portrait.

It takes a village to make a wedding. And a nice top hat.

And don’t kid yourselves, ladies:

End of Camelot

Yesterday I was given a stack of Houston newspapers from the week of JFK’s assassination. This November will mark the 50th anniversary of his passing, and I imagine some homage will be paid in the media. I found these brittle browning pages interesting, as they unraveled the course of history.

The page above was from the November 22, 1963 issue of The Houston Chronicle, when all was still well in Camelot. As far as they knew.

Hours later, another photo from the same scene is shown adjacent to a headline declaring “Secret Service Man Reports JFK Dead.”

The country knew that JFK and Texas Governor John Connally had both been shot, but JFK had not been officially pronounced dead.

But by November 23rd, the truth was out.

An article explains how doctors attempted to save the president’s life.

The suspect had been taken into custody.

And then the suspect himself was slain.

Finally, the president was laid to rest in Arlington Cemetery.

And Little John John bid his father farewell.

http://www.famouspictures.org/jfk-jr-salutes-jfk

Spaghetti Swooshing

I was reading a back issue of Saveur magazine this morning (the cover picture of sliced watermelon drew me in), and this picture was on the back page.

NYC Nov 1948 Broadway showgirls chowing down

Spaghetti swooshing requires no use of one’s hands. Ever heard of such a thing?

Treehuggers Beware

Sometimes trees are the enemy.

Table for Two

All Aboard For Summer Vacation!

http://www.nrm.org.uk

http://www.vintag.es/

http://worldnewscurator.com/

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

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.

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