Crazy Old Man Reminiscing
The Pigskin of Youth
22 June 2007 Filed in: History | Lie-ographies
Ah, college! The rinky-tink of the
ukuleles, the clitter-clatter of the nickelodeons, the piercing
shrieks of the soon-to-be raccoon coats.
They were magical times, and I mean that almost literally,
considering how we were able to pass incorporeally through walls,
navigate the earth ectoplasmically, and communicate entirely via
thought transmission.
Of course, in today's world, what with "affirmative" action, things we once took for granted are, alas, no more.
Of all my college memories, none stands out more than the excitement of football!
Many think of football of that long-ago time as a "pigskin," and picture something, not unlike a pig, but inflated with air, being passed and punted around the field.
But, mind you, the game is called "football"! The item was not so much a pigskin, but an inflated human foot. Usually, a friend in "med" would be able to easily provide us with the necessary appendage, but in a bind, any freshman could be bribed (or forced!) to accommodate us with one of his own.
Although these freshmen were then unusable for playing football, we did have the number one hopscotch team in the state.
But more than studies, more than sport, it was the girls and their ha-cha-cha that made college special.
I had a girl named Hannah and little F-Model Scour-About that was made by the little-known Henderson Motor Company of Dort-Munder, Mich. She sucked down gas like you wouldn't believe, and coughed up tons of black exhaust, but she was my Hannah, and I'll never forget her.
There was a whole world of delights that this generation will never know: the wind-up phonograph; the wind-up telephone; and, perhaps most useful, the electrical winder.
Still I look back on those days, the mad chanting of an excited mob, their torches and pitchforks waving, the clatter of iron-rimmed wheels of a tumbrel on the cobblestone, the the almost silent swish of the guillotine--it is these, the simple pleasures that mean so much, and yet, which seem so very forgotten.
Of course, in today's world, what with "affirmative" action, things we once took for granted are, alas, no more.
Of all my college memories, none stands out more than the excitement of football!
Many think of football of that long-ago time as a "pigskin," and picture something, not unlike a pig, but inflated with air, being passed and punted around the field.
But, mind you, the game is called "football"! The item was not so much a pigskin, but an inflated human foot. Usually, a friend in "med" would be able to easily provide us with the necessary appendage, but in a bind, any freshman could be bribed (or forced!) to accommodate us with one of his own.
Although these freshmen were then unusable for playing football, we did have the number one hopscotch team in the state.
But more than studies, more than sport, it was the girls and their ha-cha-cha that made college special.
I had a girl named Hannah and little F-Model Scour-About that was made by the little-known Henderson Motor Company of Dort-Munder, Mich. She sucked down gas like you wouldn't believe, and coughed up tons of black exhaust, but she was my Hannah, and I'll never forget her.
There was a whole world of delights that this generation will never know: the wind-up phonograph; the wind-up telephone; and, perhaps most useful, the electrical winder.
Still I look back on those days, the mad chanting of an excited mob, their torches and pitchforks waving, the clatter of iron-rimmed wheels of a tumbrel on the cobblestone, the the almost silent swish of the guillotine--it is these, the simple pleasures that mean so much, and yet, which seem so very forgotten.
Restoring the Arts and Crafts Bungalow
27 April 2007 Filed in: History
We recently purchased our own little slice of heaven, a bungalow of 1911, a glowing example of the Arts and Crafts movement. Restoring and re-decorating this could-be jewel to its original Arts and Crafts glory is largely a matter of detective work.
The fireplace, for example, now brick, we discovered was once made of macaroni necklaces--one of the most visually impressive of the arts and crafts.
The bathroom is still mostly original arts and crafts, with Gods-eyes covering the floor, and felt bookmarks with glitter initials all around. What was once a wonderful old laniard keychain has been updated, tragically, with a sink.
And so through the rest of the house. The parlour still has some of its original spoon puppets, and the clothespin sailboat has somehow remained untouched, but the egg-carton flowers were pulled out during an "improvement" in the 1950s, and, even more tragic, the tuna-can pin cushion that would have once been the jewel of a house like this has vanished.
Most Arts and Crafts items are much sought by collectors--and expensive. One can try eBay or estate sales, but I've found, surprisingly, that any kindergarten classroom is rich in these valued treasures of our architectural past.
About the War
As the war drew to a close, the
pessimist would have, with good cause, seen the glass half empty,
while the somnambulist would not have seen the glass at all,
walking right past it in his sleepy netherworld.
It was into this latter camp that Little Jackie Sewall fell, and, indeed, falling into camps was his speciality. Nothing surprised "Jerry" more than the unexpected arrival of an enemy sleepwalker!
Of course after several surprise attacks, the Germans developed their own sleepwalkers, but the sleep state was often induced by a local stage hypnotist, leaving the soldier at huge risk of discovery when he began squawking like a chicken.
Even more efficient than Sewall, was Madam Duranda, a Gypsy woman fighting for the American cause. Her "out of body" experiences allowed her to spy on the enemy from an unseen position hovering in a cloud of invisible light particles. She brought back many valuable secrets, including, "A loved one is trying to contact you," and "You have lost something; something...blue?"
But it was Jerry who lost something blue in the end, and that blue thing was called the War.
It was into this latter camp that Little Jackie Sewall fell, and, indeed, falling into camps was his speciality. Nothing surprised "Jerry" more than the unexpected arrival of an enemy sleepwalker!
Of course after several surprise attacks, the Germans developed their own sleepwalkers, but the sleep state was often induced by a local stage hypnotist, leaving the soldier at huge risk of discovery when he began squawking like a chicken.
Even more efficient than Sewall, was Madam Duranda, a Gypsy woman fighting for the American cause. Her "out of body" experiences allowed her to spy on the enemy from an unseen position hovering in a cloud of invisible light particles. She brought back many valuable secrets, including, "A loved one is trying to contact you," and "You have lost something; something...blue?"
But it was Jerry who lost something blue in the end, and that blue thing was called the War.