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The photo is of me when I was around six or seven. The woman is one of my grandmothers (a priggish old witch she was, too). I still have very vivid memories of that 2nd. floor flat in a house about a mile from where I presently live. I remember most of the toys, as well. Strange how the air planes, the train, the trailer, even the xylophone stuck in my memory, though I had no use for it. The car, on the other hand, I have forgotten utterly. Notice the WWI or WWII artillery shell next to me? That's an ash-tray ... for big smokers, I guess. I remember watching "Have Gun, Will Travel" on that tiny little, greenish-grey TV screen. Also "Oral Robertson," who my grandmother was obsessed with. He'd screech, "Heal!" and she'd eat it up. I hated him, so I must have been an atheist already, though I didn't realize it yet. All around the room was a wooden shelf up near the ceiling. It was cluttered with bric-a-brac -- an old beer stein, a strange yellow porcelain dog house with a slide-like extrusion from the front door, mustache cups, a plastic outhouse whose door opened and the occupant squirted you in the eye from his ... never mind. There was a also a small kewpie doll that urinated into a toilet. When you held the clear plastic reservoir, the heat in your fingers warmed up a yellow liquid, so that the piss in the toilet bubbled. Yes, my grand parents were cultured people. When my grandfather died, the witch he was married to went back to her folks in Pennsylvania and we never heard from her again.
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Ah yes, the good old days do generate a certain nostalgia... Although on closer inspection, I usually find that the "good" is largely a product of selective memory. Overall, I do prefer Today to Yesterday.
I had one or two airplanes similar to the ones in your photo, and a xylophone too! Come to think of it, at least one of my friends also had a xylophone. I wonder, what made them popular gifts?
My parents were heavy smokers, decades before anyone considered the effects of second-hand smoke. CAT-scans have confirmed that my lungs are permanently damaged, just as if I'd spent the first two decades of my life smoking a pack a day. I will spend the final years of my life gasping for breath from an oxygen bottle thanks to those early years. The good old days were indeed old, but not actually good.
I had one or two airplanes similar to the ones in your photo, and a xylophone too! Come to think of it, at least one of my friends also had a xylophone. I wonder, what made them popular gifts?
My parents were heavy smokers, decades before anyone considered the effects of second-hand smoke. CAT-scans have confirmed that my lungs are permanently damaged, just as if I'd spent the first two decades of my life smoking a pack a day. I will spend the final years of my life gasping for breath from an oxygen bottle thanks to those early years. The good old days were indeed old, but not actually good.
No one wants to remember the bad times ... but inevitably we do. I recall the universal sin of smoking also. To be in the car with my parents was to be red-eyed and coughing within 10 or 15 minutes. There was often a layer of haze in the kitchen or living room at home. I assumed it was normal. From my 20's on, though, I got more and more away from smoke -- like myself, my friends mostly didn't smoke. The one exception I clearly remember quite smoking too. I was away from home a lot and when I was at home I was in the basement, where I slept. There was only my mother then, and neither of my sisters took up the habit, putting Mom in the minority. Still -- smoking killed her in the end.
But smoking is only scratching the surface. The Korean War was still being fought when I was born. There was Vietnam through my teens and early '20s -- but, fortunately, I was Canadian and it wasn't my problem. There were the American political assassinations and the civil rights riots and Nixon and racism and about a hundred other things that definitely don't belong in a list of good things about the past. No doubt, someone looking back on the first 20 years of the 21st century will also have plenty of horrible memories to try to forget.
But smoking is only scratching the surface. The Korean War was still being fought when I was born. There was Vietnam through my teens and early '20s -- but, fortunately, I was Canadian and it wasn't my problem. There were the American political assassinations and the civil rights riots and Nixon and racism and about a hundred other things that definitely don't belong in a list of good things about the past. No doubt, someone looking back on the first 20 years of the 21st century will also have plenty of horrible memories to try to forget.
Well, MY father would smoke a lot when I was young, and, then he quit -he was developing a stubborn cough. His means of motivating himself to keep to his resolution - he would set aside the money he would have spent on cigarettes, and, in time, he bought a gasoline mower ! When he kicked the habit, this inspired my grandmother (maternal) who lived in Brooklyn, and the menthol haze in her rooms faded away. I just do not know how the cats put up with the fumes.
She died, not in her old rooms, nor in a hospital. She was living in upper Manhatten,after 3 moves (Bergen St. Brooklyn had gone to the bad) and was staying with us as she had some problems with perception. She had had 2 strokes. But,while she was with us and my father was at a business convention in Florida, she had a 3rd -massive- stroke, which left her helpless and uncommunicative. She died a week later.
Anyhow, I, to this day, can not abide the pong of cigarette smoke, tho pipe smoke and cigar smoke doesn't bother me. My mother, however, forbade my grandfather (paternal) to smoke his pipe in the house (the walls stank ! The curtains stank !). He died in 1967 in his sleep, and we had planned to go upstate that day -but, instead, were making funeral arrangements in NYC. My father said "If he had died in the country, that would have been a mess !"
My father died in 2003,at 90. My mother lasted to 2007,at 93. And I alone remain.
I do recall the McCarthy Hearings -because they were pre-empting my programs on TV. I also recall the radio blurb about "The Fly" and that the theater being authorized to pay $100 to the first person who could prove it couldn't happen . They went on to say that theater patrons would not be allowed to see "The Fly" ALONE U N L E S S they sign a legal waiver in the theater lobby.(emphasis theirs,not mine). I MAY have this on a tape I made, recording radio music, but it has been so long since I played the machine and it was not working right.
I recall Howdy Doody, the Mickey Mouse Club ...
She died, not in her old rooms, nor in a hospital. She was living in upper Manhatten,after 3 moves (Bergen St. Brooklyn had gone to the bad) and was staying with us as she had some problems with perception. She had had 2 strokes. But,while she was with us and my father was at a business convention in Florida, she had a 3rd -massive- stroke, which left her helpless and uncommunicative. She died a week later.
Anyhow, I, to this day, can not abide the pong of cigarette smoke, tho pipe smoke and cigar smoke doesn't bother me. My mother, however, forbade my grandfather (paternal) to smoke his pipe in the house (the walls stank ! The curtains stank !). He died in 1967 in his sleep, and we had planned to go upstate that day -but, instead, were making funeral arrangements in NYC. My father said "If he had died in the country, that would have been a mess !"
My father died in 2003,at 90. My mother lasted to 2007,at 93. And I alone remain.
I do recall the McCarthy Hearings -because they were pre-empting my programs on TV. I also recall the radio blurb about "The Fly" and that the theater being authorized to pay $100 to the first person who could prove it couldn't happen . They went on to say that theater patrons would not be allowed to see "The Fly" ALONE U N L E S S they sign a legal waiver in the theater lobby.(emphasis theirs,not mine). I MAY have this on a tape I made, recording radio music, but it has been so long since I played the machine and it was not working right.
I recall Howdy Doody, the Mickey Mouse Club ...
Another terrible memory of the 1950s ... the first invasion of 3D movies! AAARRRGGG! Gawd they were awful.
I love the smell of a good cigar or good pipe tobacco, and if people only smoked them very moderately -- once or twice a week -- I bet the health concerns would be far less worrisome.
I rarely encounter anyone smoking cigarettes anymore, and when I do I can't understand how I ever tolerated it. It isn't so much a pong as an acrid, burning chemical assault -- like tear gas.
I love the smell of a good cigar or good pipe tobacco, and if people only smoked them very moderately -- once or twice a week -- I bet the health concerns would be far less worrisome.
I rarely encounter anyone smoking cigarettes anymore, and when I do I can't understand how I ever tolerated it. It isn't so much a pong as an acrid, burning chemical assault -- like tear gas.
Wow. looking at that old tv reminds me of the tales my grandfather tell me about his Television Repair job.
It is truly a shame that with the newer models, it's cheaper to buy a new tv than to fix it.
Also, a while back...
I was cleaning up the old shop that he used to have, and found some old TV cardboard advertisements.
I kept them, just because they were awesome.
It is truly a shame that with the newer models, it's cheaper to buy a new tv than to fix it.
Also, a while back...
I was cleaning up the old shop that he used to have, and found some old TV cardboard advertisements.
I kept them, just because they were awesome.
The Brits do ... if Canadians ever did, it was probably before my time, because I only remember calling such a thing a trailer. Still ... Canadians did use a lot of Britishisms at one time -- I remember a few --and we may still use some. We still prefer British spellings, too.
Yeah, I know yall use English spellings on some things, and I like that old world flair, despite being a loud Yank. I know lots of old commonwealth nations enjoy that link to the past.
In somewhat related news, I scored a Canadian Ingles hi power pistol with a wooden shoulder stock/holster combo. The Ingles is my favorite flavor of hi power.
In somewhat related news, I scored a Canadian Ingles hi power pistol with a wooden shoulder stock/holster combo. The Ingles is my favorite flavor of hi power.
The finer points of this hunting rifle vs. that hunting rifle, or this Colf clone revolver vs. that one, are pretty much lost on me. Even if I collected real guns, I don't know if I'd have interest in more than a dozen (assuming nothing obscenely rare, like a genuine Tower mustket used in the siege of York during the War of 1812 came my way), and they'd mostly be common place things like a Thompson, "Schmeisser," some Civil War Springfield, Winchester, "Luger" etc. and maybe one or two good solid modern pieces like a Colt Magnum .357.
Yeah, I get ya. I am a pretty hardcore collector of militaria and guns, so my interests are across the board. I do have my faves, and those vary widely from nation to nation and era or conflict. I am fortunate enough to have a few fine examples of Canadian weapons, and those are fairly rare here, suprisingly.
Wow I remeber a train my granddad got me for christmas.It was one of those tin toys.That ran on the floor if it hit some thing.It would blow its whistle ring bell and back up.And there was a man that would look side to side.I think that led to me having a o gauge train collection.Thanks for shairing that picture.
I had an electric train once, too. A Lionel. The oval track was probably not more than 10 feet long if straightened out, and there couldn't have been more than a three foot straight on each side. I grew bored with it in minutes...
Of far more interest was an observation car that I found frozen into the mud of the backyard one time, when we moved into a new place. I was probably only 4 or 5 and it bugged me endlessly that we couldn't get it out until the mud thawed. I don't know what happened to it in the long run...
Of far more interest was an observation car that I found frozen into the mud of the backyard one time, when we moved into a new place. I was probably only 4 or 5 and it bugged me endlessly that we couldn't get it out until the mud thawed. I don't know what happened to it in the long run...
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