Showing posts with label Growing up in the 1960s. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Growing up in the 1960s. Show all posts

Thursday, November 27, 2025

A Blog Mirror Post: Do it yourself, was "How to Grocery Shop on the Cheap Humility, thy name is Aldi."

 

Rockwell's World War Two era illustration of one of Roosevelt's Four Freedoms, this one being Freedom from want.  This came from a March 6, 1943 Saturday Evening Post illustration although it was completed in November, 1943.  Rockwell was inspired by a Thanksgiving dinner in which he photographed his cook serving the same in November, 1942.  The painting has come to symbolize Thanksgiving dinners.   Interesting, compared to the vast fare that is typically associated with the feast, this table is actually fairly spartan.

This is a really good article on grocery shopping.

How to Grocery Shop on the Cheap

Humility, thy name is Aldi.

I'm going to take this in a slightly different direction, but this blog post is, I'll note, really good.

And I love the kitties featured in the article.

Anyhow, it ought to be obvious to anyone living in the US right now that groceries, that odd word discovered by Donald Trump in his dotage, are pretty expensive.  Less obvious, it seems, is why that is true.  Again, not to overly politicize it, but the common Trump Interregnum explanations are largely complete crap. It's not the case, as seemingly suggested, that Joe Biden runs around raising prices in a wicked plan to destroy the American lifestyle for "hard working Americans". Rather, a bunch of things have contributed to that.

To start with, the COVID 19 pandemic really screwed up the economy, and we're still living with the impact of that.  One of the impacts of that is that certain supply chains somewhat broke and have never been repaired.  Added to that, global climatic conditions are impacting crops in what is now a global food distribution system. Weather has additionally impacted meat prices by impacting the Beef Cattle Heard in the last decade, which has been followed up upon by the visitation of cattle diseases, and poultry diseases, that have reduced head counts. That definitely impacts prices.  The Administration, however, believing that the country exists in the economic 1820s, rather than the 2020s, fiddles with inflation causing tariffs on a weekly basis, which raises prices on everything. And finally the ineptly waged Russian war against Ukraine has impacted grain supplies world wide.  It reminds me of, well. . . :

Then I watched while the Lamb broke open the first of the seven seals, and I heard one of the four living creatures cry out in a voice like thunder, “Come forward.”

I looked, and there was a white horse, and its rider had a bow. He was given a crown, and he rode forth victorious to further his victories.

When he broke open the second seal, I heard the second living creature cry out, “Come forward.”

Another horse came out, a red one. Its rider was given power to take peace away from the earth, so that people would slaughter one another. And he was given a huge sword.

When he broke open the third seal, I heard the third living creature cry out, “Come forward.” I looked, and there was a black horse, and its rider held a scale in his hand.

I heard what seemed to be a voice in the midst of the four living creatures. It said, “A ration of wheat costs a day’s pay, and three rations of barley cost a day’s pay. But do not damage the olive oil or the wine.”

When he broke open the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living creature cry out, “Come forward.”

I looked, and there was a pale green horse. Its rider was named Death, and Hades accompanied him. They were given authority over a quarter of the earth, to kill with sword, famine, and plague, and by means of the beasts of the earth.

Not that dire, of course. . . 

Anyhow,  this reminded me of an agrarian topic.  How can you, dear agrarian reader, reduce your grocery bill?

Well, do it yourself, of course.

What do I mean?

Well, grow it and kill it yourself.

Assuming, of course, you can. But most people can.

Now, let me be the first to admit that this is more than a little hypocritical on my part now days. The pressures of work and life caused me to give up my very extensive garden some years ago.  I'd frankly cash in my chips and retire life now, but my spouse insists that this cannot be so. So, in my rapidly increasing dotage, I'm working as hard as ever at my town job.

 

An Agrarian's Lament indeed.

Anyhow, however, let's consider this.  Many people have the means of putting in a garden, and many have the means to take at least part of their meat consumption in by fishing and hunting.  Beyond that, if you have freezer space, or even if a friend has freezer space, you can buy much, maybe all depending upon where you live, of your meat locally sourced.

Given as this is Thanksgiving, let's take a look at how that would look.

I'll start off with first noting that there's actually more variety in Thanksgiving meals than supposed, as well as less. This time of year in fact, you'll tend to find all sort of weird articles by various people eschewing the traditional turkey dinner in favor of something else, mostly just in an effort to be self serving different.  And then you have the weirdness of something like this:

I suppose that's an effort by our Vice President to be amusing, something he genuinely is not, but frankly, I do like turkey.  I like it a lot.  A lot of people do.  Vance, of course, lives in a house where his wife is a vegetarian for religious reasons, so turkey may not appear there.

Anyhow, what is the traditional Thanksgiving meal?  Most of us have to look back on our own families in order to really determine that.

When I was growing up, we always had Thanksgiving Dinner at one of my uncle's houses.  My father and his only brother were very close, and we went there for Thanksgiving, and they came to our house for Christmas evening dinner.  Both dinners were evening dinners.  We probably went over to my aunt and uncle's house about  4:00 p.m. and came home after 9:00 p.m., but I'll also note that this is now a long time ago and my memory may be off.  This tradition lasted until the year after my father passed away, but even at that, that's now over 30 years ago.

Dinner at my aunt and uncles generally went like this.  

Before dinner it was likely that football was turned on the television, which is a big unfortunate American tradition.  My father and uncle would likely have a couple of beers.  My father hardly drank at all, so this was relatively unusual.  My mother would generally not drink beer and interestingly it was largely a male drink.1   I don't think I saw women really drink beer until I was in college.2  Anyhow, at dinner there's be some sort of white wine, although I can barely recall it.  Nobody in the family was a wine connoisseur, so there's no way I could remotely give an indication on what it was, except that one of my cousins, when he was old enough to drink, really liked Asti Spumante, which I bet I haven't had in over a decade.Dinner itself would be a large roasted turkey, mashed potatoes, bread, salad, and a marshmallow yam dish.  Dinner rolls would also be present.

Desert was pumpkin pie.

Pretty common fare, and frankly, very good fare, for Thanksgiving.

After my father died, Thanksgiving dinner was briefly up to me for a time, as my mother was too ill by that stage in her life to deal with cooking much.In light of tradition, I'd probably cook a smaller turkey, although if I had wild waterfowl I'd shot, I'd go with that.  Otherwise, mashed potatoes and yams.  To drink, for me, probably beer.

After I started dating my wife, Thanksgiving was at her folk's place.  My mother in law is an excellent cook, and my wife is as well.  Unlike J. D. Vance, I'm not afflicted with vegetarian relatives, and indeed, as my wife is from a ranch family, all dinners very much show that.

On the ranch, Thanksgiving is a noon meal. So is Christmas dinner.  Noon meals are generally odd for me, as I don't usually eat lunch, but that reflects a pretty strong agricultural tradition.  Big meals are often at noon.  Meals associated with big events, such as brandings, always are. So it makes sense.

Thanksgiving there shares a common feature with the ones that were at my aunts and uncles, in that usually somebody offers everyone a drink before dinner, while people are chatting.  Unlike my aunts and uncles, however, somebody will usually offer people some sort of whiskey.

Their Thanksgiving Dinner has a very broad fare.  There's a large roasted turkey, but there's also a brisket.  Both are excellent and everyone has some of both.  There's salad, mashed potatoes and two different types of stuffing, as some of us likey oyster stuffing, and others do not.  Cranberry sauce is handmade by one of my brothers in law, who is an excellent cook.  There are other dishes as well, and there's a variety of desserts.  Homemade dinner rolls are served as well.

So, that leads to this.  If I were cooking a Thanksgiving Day dinner, what would it be.

It's be simple compared to what I've noted for the simple reason that I'm simplistic in my approach to dinner in general.  I had a long period as a bachelor before being married, and I know how to cook, but my cooking reflects that bachelorhood in some ways.

The main entre would be a turkey, or perhaps a goose, which I'll explain below.

Two types of stuffing, for the reasons explained above.

Salad.

Mashed potatoes (but with no gravy, for reasons I'll explain below).

Bread.

Yams.

Pumpkin pie and mincemeat pie.

To drink, I'd probably have beer and some sort of wine.  I'd have whiskey available before dinner.

Okay, if that doesn't meet the Walmart definition of a Thanksgiving dinner, that's because nobody should buy things at Walmart. . . ever.

So, in applying my localist/killetarian suggestions, how much of this could I acquire while avoiding a store entirely?

Almost all of it.

Starting with the meat, I always hunt turkeys each year, but I don't always get one.  If I was going to cook Thanksgiving dinner, however, I'd put a more dedicated effort into it.  Turkey hunting for me is sort of opportunistic, and given that I do it in the spring its mostly a chance to try to get a turkey while getting out, usually with the dog (although poor dog died in an automobile accident earlier this year, he only every got to go out for turkeys).  If I put in more hours, which I should, I'd get one.

If I can't get one, however, by this time of year I definitely can get a goose.

Which, by way of a diversion, brings up J. D. Vance's stupid ass comment above.  If your turkey is dry, that's because you cooked it wrong.  And if wild turkey is dry, that's because the cook tried to cook it like some massive obese Butterball.

Tastewise and texture wise, there's no difference whatsoever between a wild and domestic turkey.  People who say there are say that because one of them, if not both of them, were cooked incorrectly.

Which is true of goose as well. Goose tastes very much like roast beef, unless the cook was afraid of the goose and cooked it like it was something else and ruined it.

Anyhow. . . I can provide the bird myself

So too with the vegetables, mostly.  When I grew a garden, I produced lettuce onions and potatoes.  One year I grew brussels sprouts.  Of these, only the lettuce either doesn't keep on its own or can't be frozen in some fashion.  I  could grow yams, I'm quite confident, even though I never did.

Now, on bread, I can bake my own bread and have, but I can't source the ingredients.  So those I'd have to buy.   I could likely figure out how to make my own stuffing, but I probably wouldn't bother to do so, unless I wanted to have oyster stuffing.  I would have to buy the oysters.

I'll note here that I wouldn't make gravy, as I really don't like it.  My mother in laws gravy is the only gravy that I like.   Otherwise, there's no excuse for gravy. I put butter on mashed potatoes, and I always have.

But I buy the butter.

I'd have to buy marshmallows for the yams too.

That leaves something to drink.  I know that some people will distill their own whiskey as a hobby, but I'm not about to try that, and I"ve never brewed beer.  If I ever lived solely on what I produce myself, mostly, I'd take it up.  I clearly don't have the time to do that now.

Dessert?

I'm fairly good at making pies.  I like pumpkin pie, but I've never grown pumpkins.  I could give that a shot, but I'd still have to buy most of the constituents.  My grandmother (father's mother) used to make mincemeat pies, but I've never attempted that.  The real ingredients for mincemeat pies freak people out, I"d note, those being, according to one granola website I hit and may link in, the following:

Old-Fashioned Mincemeat Pie Recipe:

Ingredients:

1 lb beef (I used ground beef from grass-fed cows) *

¾ teaspoon salt (I like using Real Salt)

1 ½ lbs apple, peeled and chopped (about 3 cups)

⅓ cup suet or tallow or coconut oil, or butter or coconut oil *

¾ cup apple cider

1 Tbs ground mace (or ½ Tbs nutmeg if you don't have mace)

½ Tbs cinnamon

½ teaspoon nutmeg

8 Tbs (½) cup raisins (or 1 full cup if not using currants too). I like to use organic raisins when possible

8 Tbs (½ cup) dried currants (or substitute raisins if you choose)

3 Tbs chopped candied citron pieces (optional)

Which brings up a lot of stuff I'd have to buy.  Everything but for the beef, as I too have beef from grass fed cows that I knew personally.

All in all, pretty doable.

Cheaper?  

Well, if you are an efficient agrarian/killetarian, yes.  

Footnotes:

1.  My father normally only bought beer during the middle of the summer, and sometimes to take on a fishing expedition if somebody was going along.  Otherwise, it just didn't appear in your house.  The only whiskey ever bought was Canadian Whiskey, and a bottle of it would last forever. We often didn't have it at all. . . indeed, normally we did not.  He only bought it when I was very young, if we were having guests.  

This is interesting as in this era offering a drink to guests was very common.  A different aunt and uncle liked Scotch and would offer it to guests, but my father hated Scotch.  

When I was young, my parents would occasionally buy wine, but it was almost always Mogan David.  Clearly were were not wine connoisseurs. 

2. This probably seems odd, but it's true.  I saw women drink beer so rarely that it was a shock when I was a kid to see a woman drinking a beer. They just normally didn't.

Indeed, by the time I was a teenager a girl drinking a beer sort of made her a "bad girl", but not in the Good Girls Don't sense.  Rather, that was in the rowdy party girl sense.  Or so we thought. We knew this, but we really didn't know any beer drinking girls as teenagers.

In college things were different, but the reputation that college students have for partying didn't really match the reality, at least for geology students.  As an undergraduate in community college we might very occasionally go out for a beer, and that was almost always the collection of us who had graduated from high school together when everyone was home.  For part of the last year of community college I had a girlfriend and I can remember being in a bar with her exactly once, when she was trying to introduce another National Guardsman to her sister.  Otherwise, that relationship was unconsciously completely dry.

At UW as an undergrad most of my friends were geology students, like me, and the discipline was so hard there really wasn't any partying.  Sometimes a group of guys would go out for a beer, but that was about it.  Early on I recall there being a party of geology students who had all gone to community college together in the freezing apartment that one of us had.  There were some beers, but generally, we just froze.  A girlfriend who was also in the department and I went to a Christmas party the year I graduated, which was a big department affair and there was beer there, but that's about it.

In law school the story wasn't much different, frankly.  Indeed, it wasn't until I got out of law school, and started practicing law, that I encountered people who really drank heavily.

3.  To be honest, as a person always should be, when my mother's illness began to advance dramatically, she began to drink heavily.  It was a problem that my father and I had to deal with.  The oddity of it was that she had never done that when she was well.  

As an added element of that, when she was well she took a wine making class. The wine she made was absolutely awful and she was the only one who would drink it, but because it was so bad, she'd fortify it with vodka to make it tolerable. That acclimated her to drinking.  She gave it up completely as she began to recover just before my father died.

4.  While she recovered a great deal, she never fully recovered. She was also an absolutely awful cook.  As my father's health declined in the last year of his life, I took over cooking from him.

Thursday, September 25, 2025

Escalators.


Yesterday, we had a post featuring elevators.

I'm not hugely keen on elevators, quite frankly, and I won't take one if I can avoid it.  I used to basically figure if a building was only three stories, I was taking the stairs.  Laziness would allow me to take one up if the structure was higher than that, but I have rethought that after being in an uncontrolled elevator fall (of three stories), something that puts me in a very unique category.  

I don't recommend it.

I dislike escalators even more than elevators.

Elevators generally don't scare me, I just don't like waiting for them and I don't like being packed into them like sardines in a can.  Escalatores, on the other hand, cause me some degree of trepidation.  They always have.

When I was growing up there were three escalators in the entire State of Wyoming, and they were all in Casper.  The J. C. Penny's building downtown had one, the 1st Interstate Bank building had one, and the airport had one.  

None of those escalators are still around.  

We didn't have the occasion to use those much when I was a boy.  Occasionally I'd be with my mother when she'd go into the bank, and if she had to use the second floor, it meant taking the escalator.  She had no problem with it, but I stare at the steps coming up from the floor trying to time when to step, and it'd take me some time. The same is true for the rare occasions in which we wanted to go to the second story of Pennys, which wasn't often. Shoot, we didn't go to Penny's often at all.   And, suffice it to say, there was even less occasion to take the escalator at the airport, which lead to a second deck once used for boarding planes.

It no longer has that use.  Indeed, they hoest events, like wedding receptions there now.  You have to take the stairs, or an elevator.

As an adult, about the only place I encounter then now is at the Denver International Airport, where I don't always take them.  I no longer hesitate before getting on the escalator, but I still don't like them.

And apparently a lot of other people don't either, as there aren't as many of them here.

Escalators are on the news as Donald J. Trump walked up to an escalator at the UN building and it stopped working.  Apparently a videographer tripped a safety device, but the MAGA's are outraged and view that as sabotage.  He incorporated the incident humorlessly in his babble in front of the UN, where he also had to deliver his babble without a teleprompter due to some error on the Trump team as well

Tuesday, May 20, 2025

Tuesday, May 20, 1975. Seas of blood.

The Khmer Rouge began to purge Cambodians associated with the former government, a move that would feature mass execution.

This is commonly viewed as the beginning of the Cambodian Genocide.

The House of Representatives voted 303-96 to admit women to the previously all-male service academies.   The move was quite controversial at the time.


The Senate would follow suit, with the first women entering the academies in the summer of 1976.

The final episode of the police series Adam-12 was broadcast.


The series had run for 12 years, and in many ways formed the concept for those raised in the 60s, and even the 70s, as to what being a policeman was all about.  Much more gritty television police dramas, and even comedies, would come in during the 70s and change much of that view.

Last episode.

Monday, May 19, 1975. Executive Order 11860—Establishing the President's Advisory Committee on Refugees.

Saturday, February 22, 2025

What's Wrong with the United States? We're really ignorant, and its getting worse.

Can you imagine this scene today?  The older man (who in context is probably in his 50s) would be staring blankly into space, while the young woman looked at TikTok videos.

21% of adults in the US are illiterate. 54% of American adults have a literacy below a 6th-grade level. 

And we wonder how Trump got elected?

The illiterate are ignorant, and blisteringly ignorant people vote for stupid stuff.

I had a very strange experience the other day, which I need to be indistinct about.

It had to do with homeschooling.

Twice in recent weeks I've run across a topic that's in the legislature, that being the legal requirement, which the Wyoming 2025 Legislative assembly is about to wipe out, that home schooling parents submit their educational plans to their local school districts.  The requirement is there to prevent parents from basically not educating their children.

Not educating children is what homeschooling is all about.

This wasn't always the case, but it's become the case.  

Some background.

My father was the first male in his family to graduate from high school.  He might have been the third member of the family, as I don't know that much about my paternal grandmother's early life in that fashion.  She probably graduated high school in Denver however, likely from a Catholic high school.  His older sister graduated from a high school in Scottsbluff.

My father went on to a doctorate.

My paternal grandfather, who left school to work at age 13, had such an advance knowledge of mathematics that he helped his children with their high school calculus homework, which is revealing for two reasons, one that is amazing on his part, and secondly all of my father's siblings took calculus in high school.

I didn't take calculus in high school

My father could speak two languages, English and German, and had a knowledge of Latin.  My paternal grandfather also could speak two languages, English and German, and had a knowledge of Latin.

My mother did not graduate from high school She was not given the opportunity to.  She earned an Associates as a an adult.  Her mother was university educated, as was her father.  They all spoke two languages, English and French, and had a command of Latin.

Growing up in my family household was like getting a post doctorate in some things, history and science in particular.  I read so early that I was on to adult books before I left grade school and had the odd experience of a junior high librarian not wishing to check a history book as she feared it was too advance.  I read The Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire before I left junior high.

I was in fact educated on a lot of stuff at home. . . but I was sent to school.

There's an interesting pattern here.  Some of my friends of my age had college educated parents, but not all of them did.  But all of my friends attended college or university.  Not all graduated, but they did receive some post high school education.  One of my closest friends had a father who did not graduate from high school.  He joined the Army in his senior year to fight in World War Two, following in the footsteps of a father who had fought in World War One.  My friend has two bachelors degrees.

And there's another thing here.  Even those people I knew from my generation, and the prior one, who had parents that didn't graduate high school, had quite literate parents.  If I ever went into a house that didn't have a lot of books somewhere, it was shocking.  I can only really recall one.  The home of my friend noted above was like a library.  My parents house  and that of all of my aunts and uncles were packed with books.  In my parents house you could find a few books that were in German or French.  A friend of mine who did not graduate from high school, but none the less went off to university, recalled his grandparents house being packed with books in . . . Gaelic.

My paternal grandmother absolutely insisted that my father go on to get an advanced degree, something he briefly though about not doing.  His unmarried sister near in age to him was sent to university as well.  I was given no real choice but to go on to higher education myself.  

And this was common for people my generation, and the preceding one.  Farm and ranch family in particular often had a manic dedication to higher education.

Home schooling has been around since time immemorial, I suppose, but when I was a kid, what it probably meant, where I live, is that the kid in question was living on a really remote ranch.  Even then, most ranching parents made a dedicated effort to avoid that.  More than a few had a teacher who lived at the ranch, paid for by the school district.  The county I live in had four rural remote public schools, of which only one is still in operation.  The neighboring one had some so remote that if you run across them on really rural roads its a shock.  The teachers at these institutions were admired in a way that's hard to describe.  Anything going on in the area always included them.

I didn't know a single homeschooled kid growing up.

Next to home schooling, of course, is private schooling.  When I was young the only private school I ever heard of was the Catholic school.  It was a big downtown school.  It's moved from downtown, but it still exists.  Catholic education had long been a thing in the US and apparently Catholics are supposed to send their kids to Catholic schools if they can, but I didn't go to it (it was full), nor did our kids.  

When in high school I learned that there was a Lutheran grade school, to my enormous surprise, as I walked by it every day.  After high school I learned that there was a "Christian" school, by which I mean a school attached to one of the sort of due it yourself evangelical Protestant groups.  It started in 1978, so I would have been in high school when it commenced operating.  The ministers for that church, at the time, were drawn from the congregation, and I later met one who was ironically adverse with its tenants as he was a geologist who accepted the truth of evolution, which the church did not.

A church that thinks evolution is a fib, probably doesn't have it taught in its schools.

Which is the point, really.  The goal of a large amount of modern homeschooling is to keep students as ignorant as possible, which is conceived of as limiting tehir "exposure" to corrupting elements.

I've been exposed to a few homeschooled kids over the years and frankly a lot of them were rather weird and very socially awkward.  Having said that, I've met one kid, and know of another, from a homeschooling family who were not that way, and one of which went on to a really high dollar career.

Now, with that comment, let me note that education isn't about getting rich, or shouldn't be.  It's about the Allegory of the Cave.  The problem here is that those exposed to  the sunlight are seeking to drag the ir offspring back into it, deeper in the cave, and into chains.


The simple fact of the matter is that Americans were much more literate prior to the 1990s than they are now.  They read.  They read even if they hadn't graduated high school.

And they read a lot, and a lot of it is much more advanced than what people claim to read now.  Even people who mostly read novels often read things much more advanced than people do now.  I recall one parent of a family friend being a fanatic fan of C. S. Forester, whose novels were just that, but noen the less dealt often with the Napoleonic Wars, something a lot of current Americans probably don't know occured.  One fellow I knew in the National Guard loved Louis Lamour, so much so that he read The Walking Drum, which is set in the Middle Ages, about which he was able to speak intelligently.  Another fellow, who had been a career Marine, was reading War and Peace.

Everyone read the newspaper.  You'd frequently see periodicals in people's houses, including unfortunately Playboy on occasion, but the latter had sufficiently good interviews that my high school newspaper teacher used those as examples and adopted them for the pattern of a series in that high school journal.  Less unfortunately, you'd see Time, Newsweek and Life in people's houses routinely.  And everyone read the local newspaper, by which I mean everyone.

The National Geographic seemed to be in the home of every household that had children, including ours.  Our collection went back into the 1940s, from my father's parents home.

Cartoons didn't make much of an appearance in our house, and I"ve never developed a taste for most of the cartoon journal type of cartoons, like Superman, but what I do recall is when they showed up, it was often Mad Magazine, which actually is really adult oriented, and not in the juvenile way "adult" is often used.

The point is, when people claim people were "more educated" in the past, including populists who are not today, they tended to be, but in ways that people now just don't really quite grasp.  They often had lower levels of educational achievement, but because they lived in a literate world, they were societally educated.

You can go into a lot of homes today and find that the occupants read. . . nothing.  

Instead, people consume only what suits them.  

In almost all of the 20th Century, it wasn't really possible to hear only the news you wanted to.  Even if you limited yourself to radio, prior to the introduction of television, you were going to get a wide range of news.  Newspapers were, as noted, almost a requirement for most households.  When television came in, at first, it was highly local but the news was national and there was no avoiding it.  You weren't going to get right or left wing propaganda from anyone.

That's all passed.

Americans aren't reading.  What media they consume is self reaffirming, like Protestant sermons from the 1600s.  People are listening only to like minds, and the nation is becoming more and more ignorant.

Which is why we have Donald Trump in office.  No literate nation would elect him to anything.\

Note that this doesn't mean the population is dumb.  Ignorant and dumb are not the same thing.  But we suffer from the Jo Jo Rabbit Effect in a major way.  We're listening, basically, to ourselves, and making excuses for our failures, and justifying our appetites.

And it puts the entire globe in danger.

Sunday, December 22, 2024

Francis Anna Camuglia and Cynthia Blanton.

I ran into this item in a really roundabout way, that being a random link to a 1967 newspaper article.  That isn't mentioned in either of the two sources noted here, that being Ms. Blanton's blog (which is quite good, I might add) or Reddit.  I unfortunately can't find the link to the article.

Anyhow, let's start with an upload of the photograph on Ms. Blanton's blog:

Blanton with the top part of the "Miss March" centerfold. This is directly linked to her blog.  I'm using the fair use and commentary exception to copyright, but I don't own the rights to post this and will immediately take it down if asked.

Miss March holding her own centerfold?

No, Miss Blanton, then a high school student, holding the centerfold of "Fran" "Gerard", who was actually one Francis Anna Camuglia, who is apparently a legendary centerfold.

The story is related on the Blanton blog, and it is really amusing.  Her resemblance was immediately noted in March 1967 by the boys in her high school, which I don't doubt.  She's almost a dead ringer for Gerard, save that, if anything, she was actually prettier in this photograph.  Their nose structure and generally their facial features are amazingly similar.  Blanton relates that she used this to play a joke on her mother, holding the centerfold like depicted and briefly fooling her mother into thinking that she'd posed for Playboy.  Apparently Ms. Gerard was extremely top heavy, and when folded out it becomes apparent that Gerard and Blanton are not the same person.

So why am I posting this here?  Cute story?

I suppose it is a cute story, and Blanton really had a sense of humor and still does.  But we're posting this for other reasons.

Gerard is apparently a famous Playboy centerfold, for the very reason noted.  The 1960s was before silicone and she was very top heavy, in an era when Playboy centerfolds were all pretty top heavy.  That she still has a following is remarkable, particularly since she died in 1985.

And that's the reason we're noting her.

She was born, as noted, Francis Camuglia, and as her find a grave entry shows, she was from a large, almost certainly Italian, and almost certainly Catholic, family.  By the time she was photographed in 1966 or 1967, she'd already been married and maybe divorced, and was off to a rocky start in life.  If she wasn't yet divorced, she soon would be.  She'd marry one more time, and go on to a life in California, working for an astrologer.

In 1985 she killed herself at age 37.

Blanton, in contrast, when on to high education, a successful life, and retired to Mexico.  She's travelled all over the world, as her blog demonstrates.

At the time of the photo, Blanton and Gerard really weren't very far apart in age.  Camuglia was born in March 1948, in which case she was a mere 19 years old when she appeared in Playboy, and only barely 19 years old at that.  Blanton was younger, but not by much, probably only one or two years at the very most.

Blanton went on to success.  Gerard was reduced in the public mind to her naked visage, a cute girl with (apparently) large assets.

The 1960s, while there was still open, and sometime legal, opposition to it, was right at the height of public acceptance of Playboy.  In the 1970s you'd still go into grocery stores and it was available the way other magazines are now, on your way to the checker.  It retained an image of "dirty" and glamourous all at the same time.

What the public didn't know was the long lasting effects pornography would have on the American public and psyche and how damaging it would be.  Nor did it know about the horrific abuse so many of these young women went through.  Not only did it basically brand them, to a degree, for life, making them something like harem slaves in a way of prior eras, valued for their physical assets and little else, they were often subject to horrific physical abuse.

I don't know about Gerard and I'm not going to look it up either.  Entering her name would no doubt provide piles of pornographic links.  That she was somebody who killed herself I already knew.  There's a really good documentary, Secrets of Playboy, that really dives into what happened to so many of these people.  Playboy left a pool of drugs and blood on the floor that we're still trying to mop up.

Her headstone is marked "Our Bubbie - Beloved Daughter and Sister".

Related threads:

Secrets of Playboy

Thursday, September 26, 2024

Saturday, September 26, 1964. Gilligan's Island

Gilligan's Island premiered on CBS.


Bob Denver, who had previously been portrayed as a beatnik, played the title role.  He'd been previously known for The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis.  All of the actors in the short run series ended up typecast, in cluding the talented Alan Hale, Jr.

UPI critic Rick Dubrow commented:  "It is impossible that a more inept, moronic or humorless show has ever appeared on the home tube."

As a kid, I'd often watch the show, already in syndication, when I got home from school.

Rebels in the Congo rounded up of all foreigners trapped in Stanleyville and Paulis.

The "High National Council" was installed to function as the legislature for South Vietnam.

Last edition:

Friday, September 25, 1964. Gomer Pyle, USMC.

Friday, August 9, 2024

Friday, August 9, 1974. President Nixon Resigns.



Lex Anteinternet: Today In Wyoming's History: August 9, 1974. Presi...

Today In Wyoming's History: August 9, 1974. President Nixon resigns and the 60s end.

Today In Wyoming's History: August 91974    Gerald R. Ford was sworn in as the 38th president of the United States following the resignation of Richard M. Nixon.  Ford has a connection with Wyoming in that his father was part of a family that had shipping and commercial interest in Wyoming and Nebraska.  Ford was born on Omaha Nebraska as Leslie Lynch King, and his parents divorced almost immediately after his birth.

Nixon departing the White House on August 9, 1974.

Just the other day I posted an entry here titled Growing Up in the 1960s.  In that I defined the 60s as ending on this date (which I was a day off on, for some reason), when I stated:


So I was in school in the last three years of the decadal 1960s, but in reality I was in school for most of the 1960s, as the 1960s really ran from our commitment of ground forces to Vietnam until Nixon's resignation on August 8, 1974

For whatever reason, that we were near the 45th anniversary of that date, didn't occur to me at the time (the original linked in post here was obviously from five years ago, now we're at the 50th).

Under the U.S. Supreme Court's recent ruling on Presidential Immunity, I frankly think Nixon could have stayed in office.  Of course, the Court at that time wouldn't have reached that horrific result.

Monday, June 17, 2024

Elephant Bells.

I was somewhere the other day (I can't recall where) when a young woman walked by wearing "elephant bells", i.e., bell bottom jeans with very wide flairs.

They were popular when I was quite young.  By the time I was in high school, elephant bells had largely passed, but a few girls, usually ones who were a little edgy, still wore them.

I was surprised, as I didn't know that you could still get them, but then a few days later I was driving home and saw another young woman wearing a pair of white elephant bells and a multicolored, very 60ish, sweater.  She had long blond curly hair and it really suited her.  She was also walking into a tattoo parlor, so I hope she was careful.

Are they coming back?

Wednesday, May 15, 2024

You can have anything you want at Alice's Restaurant.

 


There ain't no such thing as free lunch.

El Paso Herald-Post, 1938.

There really isn't.

For some reason, the concept of "free" lunches and "free" breakfasts has bothered me for decades.  I don't know why, really, but it always has.1   Generally, it's because I'm well aware that "free", in this context, means the financial cost is passed on to somebody else, and nine times out of ten in my experiences the bearer of the cost does so involuntarily.  

I don't believe the common unthinking populist phrase that "taxation is theft", but in this case, the free meal is really darned close to it.  I've railed here in the past against "free and reduced costs" meals at the local schools, as they aren't free or reduced costs, it's just that property owners pay for negligent parents failing to provide for their kids.

Yes, that's harsh, and that's not what brings me back to this topic, but it's the truth.  I'm not opposed to helping the needy, but here nine times out of ten (that phrase again) some tragic "heroic" single mother is packing Young Waif to school hungry because Dudley Dowrong departed the scene after donating his genetic contribution, and now the people who are responsible are picking up the tab. That's okay on a limited basis, but as soon as those whose occupation is Buying Cotton pick up on it, they become to regard it as a right, and soon in fact it becomes one.2 3 

Which, again, isn't what brought me back here.

You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant

You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant

Walk right in it's around the back

Just a half a mile from the railroad track

You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant

Arlo Guthrie, Alice's Restaurant.

Just like the meanderings in Guthrie's classic, what I’m here to write about isn't school breakfasts, but office lunch's.

For a reason that I'll omit, I suddenly find myself in the role which made an old Denver lawyer friend of mine supremely crabby when he had it assigned to him, and now I see why.  I'm management.

In the new assignment, which snuck up on me, I was instructed I needed to cut expenses that weren't mandated or necessary.  And what I found, of course, is that mandated and necessary are in the eyes of the recipient.  Put another way, one parent's free and reduced lunch is another's absolute Constitutionally enshrined right.

The expense I rapidly cut was sending our runner to buy groceries for the break room.

Oh, I know what you are thinking, coffee, tea, and the like.4  5

No, I mean real groceries.  Soup, relish, hot peppers and hot sauce.

In the over three decades of my current employment and having worked with lots of professionals, I've noted that there's only been a small handful that actually ever ate their lunch at work.  There are a few, but it isn't many. Staff people who do, and there are a small handful that have, always packed their lunches, or went to one of the downtown shops to buy lunch and brought it back.  Professionals, I'd note, mostly left the office for lunch. Some went home to eat there, often to take care of chores while they were doing it, and some ate downtown.  A few, however, ate in the breakroom every day.

I've never done that. When I was younger, I actually walked home to where I then lived, ate a quick light lunch, and returned to work.  It helped keep me 30 lbs lighter than I now am.  Most of the time now I just don't eat lunch, so if I'm in the office, I'm working. This is against the wise council of my father, who felt that leaving the place of work every day at noon gave you a necessary break.  He ate downtown every day with a small group of his friends.

I admire that.

Anyhow, of the professionals that have eaten lunch in the office over the past three plus decades, there are only two that have acclimated to the company buying them lunch or elements of their lunch.

I don't know how this happened.

Long suffering spouse suggest that it was probably started so that there was food for people in an emergency, and I can see that.  You're trying a case, and it ran long in the morning as Dudley Dowrong was on the stand for a long time, trying to remember if he has six kids by eight women, or eight kids by six women.  So you run back to the office, and you forgot lunch, and don't have time to go buy it.  Have some soup, from the company stores.

Well, I wouldn't.  I hate soup, for which there's no excuse.

My guess is that is how it started, but it expanded somehow.  So for a long time I'll see somebody who hasn't tried a case for eons ordering soup to be picked up by the runner.  And in another, a person who brings a gigantic lunch from home everyday spices it up with relish and condiments he had us pick up, that only he uses.6

Quite frankly, this has always pissed me off.

Basically, at that point, you are making every single person who works with and for you buy you lunch.  Yes, it's not a major cost, but over the years that means you've taken hundreds or thousands of dollars in food from your coworkers by fiat.

So, with my new found authority and mandate, I ordered it stopped.

 ...came upon a bar-room full of bad Salon pictures, in which men with hats on the backs of their heads were wolfing food from a counter. It was the institution of the "free lunch" I had struck. You paid for a drink and got as much as you wanted to eat. For something less than a rupee a day a man can feed himself sumptuously in San Francisco, even though he be a bankrupt. Remember this if ever you are stranded in these parts.

Rudyard Kiping.7

It went badly.

Interestingly, the person I thought might complain did not.  The whining from another person was incessant, however.

I'll be frank that I really don't like the passive-aggressive snide type of hostility that some people will exhibit.  I prefer that people know that I'm mad when I'm mad, and they almost certainly do.  In this instance, after days of it, I blew up in front of the front office starting off with "you're pissing me off".

I yielded, however.  People who feel they have the right to impose their lunch menu items back on everyone else now can.

If they dare.


Footnotes:

1.  Without knowing for sure, I wonder if its because people who grew up when I did always had it impressed upon them as children that providing a meal for somebody was a big deal.  If we received lunch at a friend's home, we were always asked if we had thanked the host for doing so.  We were implicitly made to understand that food costs money.  

Moreover, snacking just didn't exist where I lived as a kid.  People didn't have snacks out, ever.  One boyhood friend of mine who is still a close friend had a family that bought 16 oz glass bottles of Pepsi, and the lack of snacks situation was so strong that it always felt like a huge treat to have a bottle of Pepsi there when I was a kid.

2.  I'm not one of those who currently feel that everything is wrong with public education, and indeed public education here is good. But this is one cultural difference that may in fact make a difference.

At least with Catholic schools here, there are those who attend who because parishioners have donated the tuition to make it possible.  I don't know the lunch situation, but I'd wager this is also the case for some food served there.  That's charity, but it's voluntary.  Providing free or reduced cost food in public schools is legally enforced involuntary charity, which the recipients of, at least by way of observation, sometimes come to feel is a right. 

3.  "Buying cotton" is Southern slang for doing nothing.

4.  I almost never drink coffee at the office, and never tea, but these are office staples.  Likewise, a water cooler in a century plus old building makes sense.  And some food, like soda crackers, or something does as well. But food that's used by one person. . . 

5.  Oddly, soda isn't viewed this way.  

Years ago, we had a Pepsi supplied pop machine and, in going through a similar episode, the then managers determined to send it packing.  Restocking it with soda was costing a fortune.

That move was detested by the staff, but not by the professionals. Why?  Probably because the staff drank the soda and the professionals simply didn't.

6.  If you drown your leftovers every noon with buckets of hot sauce and jalapeños, there's something wrong with them in the first place.

7.  What Kipling failed to mention here is that the "free lunch" was packed was salty fare. Heavily salted ham, etc., was set out for the taking, but the one beer lunch accordingly became two or three.

As an aside, a depiction of this is given in Joe Kidd, in which the title character walks into a bar early in the movie and picks up ham, bread and cheese off an open plate.

Related threads:

Do these people actually have a clue how debt works?


There is such a thing as a free lunch. Was, Lex Anteinternet: Quiet Quitting? Is it real, and if so, why?