Weekend Finds 2: Vintage Opryland Theme Park Map

Good morning!

I was at an estate sale out on Henry Ford Drive the other day and got snookered into buying a stack of old scrapbooks. By the estate sale dealers, you ask? Nope, they were perfectly low pressure, tiny elderly women who kept asking if anyone needed any help in a way that made you want to think of something they could help you with. Unbelievably sweet, especially by estate sale dealer standards. No, I was hoisted by my own petard in this case. As I was paging through one of the yellowing leaves of these books, I saw some letters from the forties' and thought there might be more treasure in the hills. So I bought four interesting looking albums for fifteen bucks (WAY over my regular price, but again, the ladies were so nice!) and took them home. Turned out, two of them were the "arts" scrapbook of an old maid schoolteacher who had gone to every AND I MEAN EVERY cultural event in Nashville for the years 1972-1974. Playbill after playbill after playbill for community theater productions, evenings at the symphony, classical concerts...whatever sounded like class in the vicinity of Metro Davidson county, she went. I might up and scan/share them with you sometime soon, but for now, behold the jewel of this faded collection:

AN ORIGINAL OPRYLAND THEME PARK MAP FROM 1972:

Yahoooooooooooo! We were just talking the other day about how much I love old theme parks, and how much I miss Opryland. Well, here you go! My prayers went answered for once!

I am, as always, unable to shoot pictures that look like they WEREN'T taken in a dungeon or lagoon or some other sinisterly low-lit place, but bear with me. The funky, whimsical little pictures are so cute!

For our non-Nashvillian readers, Opryland USA was a theme park that opened in 1972 just off Briley Parkway in Nashville. Living in Inglewood, it was only about a five minute drive from our house to the park, so we bought season tickets JUST about every year when I was a kid. The name of the place gives me an immediate, aural memory of the sound of the cranking gears to the Screamin' Delta Demon roller coaster and the shrieking as it made its whirligig descent. You could hear that almost as soon as you got out of the car, and didn't it quicken your little steps towards the entrance to the park! "They're havin' fun in there! I wanna be in there!"

One thing that surprised me, inspecting the attractions listed on this map of the original layout, was how different the feel of the park was from its later incarnations. In the seventies', there seemed to be a much more handmade, folksy bent to the attractions and gift shops. While there were still half a million gift shops in my memories of the place in the late eighties' and early nineties', most of the big draws were roller coasters and splash rides. The "theme" of music and Southern regional interest was way tamped down by the time I was there-- while you still had those wiggly marionettes of Shotgun Red, foam dragons and "I SURVIVED THE HANGMAN" t-shirts are most of what I can recall as souvenirs there circa 1994.

In 1972, the Grand Ole Opry was still down at the Ryman! It made its move to the less historic, but way more plus new Opry house in 1974.

I don't remember ANYTHING about a lake. I'm not saying it wasn't there, because look-- but I would certainly remember riding on a lake raft ride as advertised below. That thing looks awesome!

The Tin Lizzie ride was a favorite, favorite of mine as a kid. As most children who rode the on-a-rail model T ride back in the day, I had no idea we weren't driving a car in much the way we had to get to the park. What if we crash! What if we go off into the ditch! I saw a similar (heck, might be the same!) ride at Six Flags over Georgia when we were there a couple weeks ago and it gave my heart a tiny pang. Notice the "Mexican Candle Shop, La Cantina Show, [and] Mexican Restaurant" in this area of the park-- like Six Flags and its early days, the park was themed by different "regional" areas, and this seems to part of the "American West" area:

The original mascots of the park, who are FINE AND FANCY, if you ask me:

More random snaps I took of the map. There was an artist's signature in the upper right hand corner next to the sun but danged if I didn't forget to get a close up of it. Ah well. Do you recognize any of the attractions here? I remember the petting zoo for sure, but in a different location. And the train always had such a long wait, we hardly ever took it!

THE SKY RIDE. Ugh, I miss that sucker. Just when you thought you might actually die from heat exhaustion, and your parents refused to spring for the wildly expensive lemon ices it seemed like everyone else at the park was double-fisting, the Sky Ride was a perfect solution to "beat the heat". I could have ridden that thing all day.

Did you go to Opryland during its 1972-1997 run? If you're a Nashville native, what do you remember best about return trips to the park, or how it changed over the years? Is there a theme park in your home town or nearby that is close to your heart? Let's talk!

 Have a great Tuesday! That's all for today, but I'll see you back here tomorrow.Til then.

Great Onion AV article on working in the park back in the mid 90's here.
Opryland Timeline here

Weekend Finds: Various and Sundry

Good morning!

The title of today's blog is actually a little of a cheat because I did find a few of these items BEFORE this weekend. However, as I was running around the house scooping up recent coups from my thrift store runs, how could I leave out some of these crazy things I've neglected to tell you all about in the past week or two, due to inherent laziness re: photographing junk hauls? I couldn't. You wouldn't want me to! Let's get a look at the loot:

I think the item out of the whole haul that made my heart stop the most when I first saw it is this vintage Maio print from Goodwill ($6.99). Holy SMOKES, just when I think things like this aren't out there anymore! I was digging through the picture frames when the sheer enormity of this print's frame, sticking out from behind a framed poster of some hot air balloons (bleh, hot air balloons) and early nineties' illustrated prints of Victorian dolls (bleh, early nineties' prints), piqued my interest. When I hauled it out, I had one of those "NO WAY! No way!" moments that make all the dry runs to my neighborhood Goodwills worthwhile....a diamond in the rough, my friends! 

Circa 1998, this thing would have been at the front of the now demolished DAV on Gallatin Road, with a collectible price of like at least thirty bucks. Look at the girl's voluminous petticoats, her tights and high button boots, her tiny little parasol... kitsch perfection. Maio is one of the more famous "big-eyes" artists from the Keane-craze of the 60's and 70's. She was more known for her girl harlequins than waifs, though she seemed to do a number of those as well. I've already found a place to hang this in the den, so I consider this find a perfect "10" of a thrift score.

Red Hall Kitchenware round casserole dish with lid? $7.99 at Saver's up in St. Louis! I love that it has the lid, and that the price was limbo-low.

This hat, dude. As I was walking out of another Goodwill killing time before work on Sunday, I had a Top Gun, slow motion, "Take My Breath Awaaaaaay" moment over near the belts when I saw it perched atop a shopping cart full of things to be put out on the floor. Not this one! You needn't bother with shelf-stocking it, because for $1.99, I'm takin' that puppy home. A blithe little label inside the hat reads "MADE IN MYANMAR (BURMA)", and the thing is COVERED in embroidery and sequins. I die. Even just sitting on my dresser, it was worth pulling the trigger. The only other one I could find online was this one that sold on Etsy about a year ago. Do you or a grandmother you know have a hat like this? Is there a matching fanny pack I need to know about? Let's talk.

A bunch of straw trivets, because I love beautifully made things almost as much as I love not setting hot casserole dishes on my kitchen table. $1.99 for all three of them:

I am torn between the Maio and this for "best find" award. I know I said I liked the sixties' print best, but oh my goodness. As you see before you, a diminutive tote, maybe for a kindergartner's school book bag. The front features a large cookie pocket, and the legend, "ONE CUTE COOKIE". But wait...what is that umbilical cord like protrusion from the inside of the bag?

OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD, THE CHANGE PURSE SAYS "CHIPS". There's a matching change purse that is supposed to be a chocolate chip. I DIE! ($1.99, Hermitage Goodwill, you're my new best friend)

This Elton John live record was professionally bowl-shaped by vinyl people in the know (there's a sticker on the bottom about the "process"). While I have friends who have successfully executed this, DIY style, at home with their kitchen ovens, I just don't think I would be able to make it look this professional. And for $2.99, I now have a great living room coffee table centerpiece. 

Last but not least, act like I didn't need this faux woodgrain, mint in box, seventies' travel tumbler. I won't, because I couldn't live with it out for ninety nine cents. Ever since I lost my enormous coffee tankard somewhere in the stacks (how did it get lost?! Will it return to me again some day?!), I have been drinking out of un-lidded coffee mugs, and those things are brutal for early morning car rides, sloshing all over the place. This is a means to an end, and a snazzy one to boot!

So! What did you guys get this weekend? Any crazy vintage scores at the estate sales? I've noticed the season has picked up considerably since a couple weeks ago, so there's bound to be good picking out there for all you fellow tag-sale-ites. I still have the dress-a-palooza of this last weekend to tell you about, but it'll have to wait until tomorrow (or whenever I get around to taking pictures of it all!). Have a great Monday (even if it is Monday), and I'll see you tomorrow! Til then.

Photo Friday: A Quick One Before the Weekend Edition

Good afternoon!

I was so revved up to go to estate sales this morning that I COMPLETELY FORGOT about any and all vintage blogging duties. An egregious error on my part! So shame, shame on me. ((makes the brushing one's index finger with the other index finger gesture)) Did you miss your morning's dose of She Was a Bird? To tide you over until Monday, I present this flickr user's mom, year of our Lord 1968:

What I love about this photo? The woman in the vintage picture is looking through, guess what, VINTAGE PICTURES. How meta of her, right? And a more retro/vintage setting for her to be doing this in I couldn't actually imagine. Look at the Googie chair and couch! The side table! The telephone! The white ottoman/coffeetable type thing! I love the relative to the right's moccasins, and EVERYTHING about the girl subject's outfit. Bulky sweater, checked skirt, cats eye glasses, perfect hair. And not to mention that pretty, wondering expression on her face! My only regret is that this is the only old-time photo I saw off the bat in this photo set. Come on, mister, give us some more of the vintage goods! I would say to this user. You're killin' me, here!

I made an i-n-c-r-e-d-i-b-l-e clothing bonanza at an estate sale in Inglewood this morning-- I promise to tell you all about it next week! Have a great weekend, and I'll check you on the other side. Til then!

Warner Bros. Breakdowns and Blow Ups (1936-1947)

Good morning!

I'm trying to take a breather from the internet today, but while I'm resting these weary little ocular synapses, why don't you train yours to the annual Warner Bros. Breakdowns and Blow Ups. I first mentioned these a million years ago in the infancy of this blog , but I recently came across this playlist on Youtube, offering a way larger selection of gaffes and goofs from 10 years of the golden age of Hollywood. It's HIGHLY entertaining to see your favorite old time movie stars, from Cary Grant to James Cagney, lose their verbal footing in the middle of sets to movies you might recognize. I personally loved seeing Bette Davis as her Oscar winning Julie Marsden in Jezebel and Lauren Bacall in The Big Sleep. Please note that there's a LOT of swearing and the Lord's name taken in vain, but it the shock quality of four letter words dropping from the lips of screen icons that's half the fun!

There's a great blog on the history of the WB Breakdowns and the insiders' yearly dinner dance at which they were shown here.

Tell me who you recognize, and what terrible things they said, if you do get up the gumption to wade through these videos, I'd love to hear from you!

             

I'll be back tomorrow for Photo Friday! Til then.

Tuxedo Man (Matthew's Got a Tuxedo!)

Good morning!

Gettin' down to crunch time, peeps. With seventy some odd days til the wedding, I have kicked planning into the "oh my god, FREAK because we are actually needing to make decisions on stuff NOW" phase of the process. As I realized the other day that my documents and ideas are all either in my inbox or stuffed in a "important mail" letter holder at home, I finally got my act together and salvaged an old work binder into a cheery little wedding planning notebook. Using the DIY tab suggestions on this website, I've been dutifully three ring punching and stapling and organizing to-do lists and already-done lists (hint: one is way bigger than the other), but I must say, the process was made a li-i-i-itle more cheerful by the printing out/addition of these photos to the section marked attire.

Ladies and gentlemen, Matthew has a tuxedo!

Well, he at least has an agreement to borrow a tuxedo for our big day in September. Matthew's mom, Deb, and the groom to be himself went out to Men's Warehouse in Green Hills on Monday. While the name of the store may bring up visions of small business owners from the early nineties' in terrible, "buy three and the pants are free" suits and ties, they treated them first rate and had a larger selection than other tuxedo rental places the two visited with slightly better names. I sent Matthew with a wallet-sized print-out of a silm fit tuxedo on Justin Timberlake so there would be no mistaking what was meant by "we want a slim-fit tuxedo". Yes, J-tim is the sartorial boilerplate for how I envisioned my little beloved waiting for me at the end of the aisle...he never wears baggy suits! God bless him. And yet they fit-- none of that Pete Wentz "I'm in a band, so tiny, tiny  over-shrunk clothes are ok, right?"

The problem is, no matter what size or height the man inside is, department stores and specialty places alike seem to want to put dudes in grossly oversized pants and jackets. I blame this on the same trend that makes a male "S" t-shirt or button up actually more like a men's M-L in vintage sizes. Do dudes' clothing manufacturers do vanity sizing, or do men just not know they look their best in fitted, not ill-fitting, clothes? I've seen Matthew, who is a slim little dude with relatively wide shoulders and short legs, coaxed into a blazer and pants that would have swamped a much taller, porcine man. "Oh, we can take it in some, though," the wizened salesman crowed when posed with objections to the fit. Um, how much are you going to take it in? Five sizes? ((shakes head)) It was like they were fitting young Brando for old Brando (shiver). No dice, clothes merchants! Wrong is wrong!

This is the same photo as the Instagram snap that heads this post, except pre-Instagramming. See! He looks just as nice without the filters. I am amused by the background full of a Gatsby spectrum of colored shirts and suit jackets. I secretly wish we could get away with a colored suit like this or this, but maybe in the next life, when we're both cats. COOL CATS. Also, his hair? It just does that. I'm not kidding. No product, no special blow drying-- he sleeps on it, and it comes out in the morning looking like this. I hope our kids' get his hair's texture and not my iron-straight, curl-less locks!

I'm kind of sorry I didn't get to go along with mother and son to check out the dressing room preening, but I was happy Deb and Matthew took a lot of photos so I could check it out after the fact. I had the goofiest little love feeling when I saw him all dressed up and thought about meeting him at the altar in September. He was cute because he called me after all the little contracts were signed and said, "I couldn't get a hold of you when we needed to make decisions about the accessories [tangent: how often do you hear a guy say this? It's worth gloating over for a minute], but lemme ask you this-- bow tie or tie?" Me: "Bow tie." Matthew: "YESSSS. Vest or cummerbund?" Me: "Cummerbund." Matthew: "Yes! Yes, I knew it! Pearl buttons or black?" Me: "Black." Matthew: "THREE FOR THREE! I knew what you would like! My training has paid off!"  And it certainly has! Here's the finished product, pre-tweaking (there's a little bit of this to be taken in and that to be altered, but not by much, thank goodness):

Matthew also said the saleslady was impressed with how much he talked about me during the fitting, because she could tell he was really excited to be getting married and specifically to be getting married to me. She told him a lot of guys come in grouchy, petulant, obstinate  and it was nice to see a guy who was actually happy about tying the knot! I was surprised to hear that, because coming as I have from trying on a million wedding dresses, and every human female in the store, bride or bridal party, is just jumping up and down with excitement, I'd never thought about what the dude's portion of this process must have been like.I actually have a tiny sentimental tear thinking about this in the midst of all my "oh good God what do I do about table settings". Guys, it's gonna be a great wedding! Who cares what the chairs and the favors and the food looks like (I do, but you know what I mean)? We got heart! And that's a lot.

Anyway, sorry to sentimental-out on you guys, it was just the first thing on my mind this morning, and that's what usually goes on the blog! Back to vintage stuff tomorrow, with a vengeance. In the meantime though, indulge me-- what wedding planning tips do you have for a gal a little less than three months away from the big day? I got a list of things from a blog reader, Tamra in Alabama, that has been tacked up in my cubicle and making me smile since she sent it, but I'd love to hear more from you marrieds or soon to be marrieds or have thought about being marrieds about how to do this gracefully (is it possible?!).

That's all for now! Catch you kiddos on Thursday. Til then!

The Clothes Off My Back (plus a Shabby Apple review)

Good morning!

Clothes...still wearing 'em, thought I should talk about 'em. I was messing around with Instagram, and now I know why all you fine people put such stock in their photo filters:

1) Stevie:

Good Lord! I knew my hair and my dress were fierce in this photo, but I look like Stevie Nicks on the back cover of Rumours (the highest compliment I can pay a person, even myself)! Thank you, Instagram, jeez. I found this seventies' halter maxi-dress, with saucy cut-out-lace insert, at Goodwill last Friday before the half off sale ($7.99). You should see the bottom of the dress, too; there's a goddessy flow to the skirt. I haven't yet mastered the art of wearing polyester sun dresses in above 70 degree weather, but I'm going to make an honest effort of it this summer. This dress can't wait to go out on the town!

2) Freebie:
An online retailer contacted me a couple weeks ago to ask if I was interested in reviewing a dress from their online collection-- uh, does heck go with yes*? Shabby Apple's latest collection features retro-inspired, vintage clothing inspired numbers. I was a little put off by the styling in some of these photos, but the dresses themselves looked simple, breezy, and ready to be amped up or styled down with whatever accessories you choose, so I sent off for this dress:

The shipping was lightning fast, and I was excited to open up the colored tissue paper enclosed package. My first free dress! In the past, I've been burned by retro-styled online dressmakers who sent me a TJ Maxx or Forever 21 quality dress (no shade, TJ Maxx or Forever 21, but you know I shop there because you put the "disposable" in "disposable fashion") at actual department store prices. BOOO! Even with the $84 retail price tag, I didn't know what to expect. I was surprised to see that this dress, in spite of being polyester, is FULLY lined, and well-constructed. The only thing I would mention as a drawback, which might apply to any and all online, not-in-person shopping, was that the length appeared to be all out of proportion to the model in the picture. I know I'm six feet tall, and I can't expect every dress to be the appropriate tailleur when there's an extra eight to four inches of height on me when compared to the average American female. However! Aren't models tall? How is this hemline knee-length on her and short enough to necessitate an under-skirt for me? At this length, I feel like it would be more suited for casual wear, but the material itself is more formal-occasion oriented. What's a gal to do. I will say I like the color and material!

3) Today's Own Outfit:

Serving Orphan Annie Realness (phew, my hair! What are you doing? It doesn't look any better as I'm typing this, let me tell you). I have come to the conclusion, after standing in front of my closet and heaving through the over-burdened hanging rack inside, that my closet is mostly 1970's-1980's sequined dresses/tops/whatever else (I can't stop....someone make me stop!), polyester long sleeved dresses, and strappy summer sun dresses. None of these are appropriate to an at-work environment, so I'm just going to start wearing the sundresses as jumpers, I've decided. Here's an Ann Taylor dress from Goodwill, with a Gap T-shirt from Goodwill, with the same black underskirt I wear with everything (seeing a pattern here?). I'll have to tell you how my experiment works out, but I already got a compliment in the elevator about "my style", so I'm just going with it, tangled hair and all.

What have you been wearing lately? Have you had similar experiences with online retro-retailers? What kind of break-up do you see in the kinds of clothes you stock your wardrobe with? Let's talk!

I have to get back to work, but I'll see you guys back here tomorrow. Til then!

**Disclaimer - Shabby Apple provided me with the item mentioned above,  free of charge,  for review purposes. The opinions stated are my own.

Weekend Finds: the Lamp I Love

Good morning!

Two separate out-of-state vintage hauls, a trip to Home Depot, and an afternoon with my dad spent carefully tinkering over this trinket have all paid off, ladies and gentlemen. Check out my new/old/Frankenstein of a vintage find, the figural lamp of my dreams!

On the way back from Missouri, we stopped in Benton, Ohio to grab lunch, and I was pulled into the gravitational field of their town square. Anytime I see a tiny brown highway sign that reads "ANTIQUE DISTRICT -->" or "HISTORIC TOWN SQUARE--->", it's pretty much impossible for me to ignore the call of the junk. The first thing I saw coming into the store was an atomic aqua love seat and matching coral colored arm chair...while I caught my breath and began tabulating how much a Uhaul back to Nashville might cost, I was shot back down to earth by the price tag. $695 for the sofa, and $395 for the chair. WHAT. WHY. WHAT. WHY AGAIN. Most things in the store were more reasonably priced than that, but most things in the store also didn't have the knock-yer-eye-out curb appeal of the living room set. My heart momentarily thrilled at the sight of an Enid Collins bag in a case, but further inspection proved that it was missing several key stones and badly scratched. Boo. I was strikin' out on this trip, folks!

We were almost out of the store when I saw this two-tier, fiberglass barrel shade sitting on top of a cupboard in one of the booths. With the store's dubious-up-until-now track record, I expected to experience the sticker shock of a way out of price range shade. And if it was in my price range, it probably had a hole burned in one side or something else criminally wrong with it.  But no! $30 was inked on the little hang tag attached, and there wasn't a mark on the shade itself. After some booth-circling, I finally decided to just buy the thing, and carry it back to Tennessee with the hopes of attaching it to just-the-right lamp. I had one in mind, matterafact:

Do you remember the Louisville trip Matthew took me on last year for my birthday? This lamp base was one of the Peddler's Market finds from that fair city. I'm still groping for the correct term to describe his vocation, even a year later...matador? Harlequin? Matador-in-disguise? Man of mystery? At any rate, I had been looking for a crazy fifties' lamp-with-person for a base for the longest time, and now the opportunity to put shade-to-lamp presented itself! Only one impediment, there-- the lamp base's cord was cut, rendering useless its basic functionality. Dad-durn it. The harp was in pretty bad shape too, and I figured if we were going to go to the trouble of rewiring it, it might as well be with new parts. After picking up a "make-a-lamp" kit at Home Depot, I took the kit and caboodle over to my parents' house, and my dad and I fiddled with it until we had a working lamp!

I am still the world's worst blog photographer, so here's another shot of the lamp outside, which was taken in the vain hope that the outdoor lighting would help with seeing what the piece "really looks like". Something about the fiberglass of the shade just makes the lamp look so expensive when you turn it on and the light's coming through. $30 shade + $15 base + $10 lamp kit = $55 total for the lamp. Compare that to the $75-$125 price range of lamps I've had a little sorrow-induced tear over at Pre to Post Modern, and I think I might have come out a little ahead! Plus the fun of "picking it myself", one piece at a time, kind of adds to the value for me.

So! What did you find over the weekend? Do you have any fiberglass lamp shades or fifties' lamps (or both) in your collection? What's the story behind how you got them? Let's talk!

That's all for today, but I'll be back here tomorrow. Til then!

Photo Friday: 1917 War Effort edition

Good morning!

As it's Friday, I was flipping through my flashdrive of family photos and trying to decide which one to show you all. What would be more appropriate, seeing as it's July 5th, the day after the day upon which our nation's birthday is celebrated, than selecting this patriotic photo?

Marked "1917" in the margin of the snapshot, you can see ten little girls dressed in blinding all-white frocks, wearing the headpieces of the American Red Cross nurses' uniforms. Many service and volunteer groups, for both youth and adult members of the WWI home-front, knitted socks and rolled bandages for the war effort. While there's no other information on this photograph, I'm assuming that among the members is someone from my grandma's Massachusetts family, though which little girl is anyone's guess. Personally, I hope it's this one:

Miss Personality 1917, right? She looks like a pint-sized Joan Blondell. How sharp is that blonde bob under her little cap? I was able to find this photo from the same year, in Grandview Heights, Ohio; it looks like the "wear white, we'll look like we're all in the same uniform" organizing tactic was just as effective in the Midwest as it was in New England. I thought this photo might be another children's service organization, and maybe the members were all dressed up for the portrait-- turns out, the kids are garbed at WWI nurses and soldiers to attend the Texas funeral of Frank Maresh, a local fallen soldier. Macabre, people! That is downright creepy!

Speaking of creepy, did you see the shadowy presence in the background of the photo?

I tried to close-up on the matronly figure standing behind the screen door in this photograph, but her face was lost to the shadows. I love how you can see she's wearing some kind of apron, but that's about the most detail you're going to get. I wonder if she was the group's den mother or similar.

Last but not least, a detail I almost missed entirely because of how washed out the white makes the definition of the photo!

AAAAAH! Did you see the little kid laid out like a practice patient in the center of the photograph? It wasn't until I went in to do a closeup of the woman in the house that I realized they're standing around a stretcher, on which is placed a little would-be casualty. Can you imagine what an opportunity it would be to "ham it up" in the role of the victim? I not-so-secretly envy the kid the position she's in. "Doc, my eyes! MY EYYYYYES, WHY CAAAAN'T I SEEEEEE....", followed with much appropriate-to-the-time-period stage acting of wringing hands and groaning. That would be my approach. See, I've got my plan all mapped out here. Just waiting for my big break!

What do you think of this photo? Do you have any neat WWI-era photographs in either your own collection or your family's? I'm still kicking myself I didn't buy a panoramic photo from this same time period of some British soldier who were bivouacked in some extreme, Downton Abbey style castle in the French countryside, and stood in front of it for the photo. So EPIC a scene, people; what was I thinking.

I have to get back to work, but you guys have a fabulous weekend! Fellow Tennesseans, I hope we get some of that sunshine we were so cruelly denied on Independence Day. I'll see you on Monday! Til then.

Happy Fourth!

Good morning!

Aren't I just over the moon about not having to get up at 6 am? Nom de Dieu, a million times, YES. Happy birthday, US of A! I took an extra little sleep in especially for the occasion. :)

It wouldn't be a holiday here at She Was a Bird, however, if I didn't show you some completely NUTS antique postcards celebrating this holiday, lo, so many years ago. What the Fourth of July is really about, and always has been, is blowing stuff up in the name of patriotism.

Don't believe me? Would you believe Uncle Sam?

source

Why is it so funny to see the long-legged avatar of our nation's government giddily flinging what looks like dynamite all over the place? The seeming solemnity of expression on many antique postcards and other illustrations always make these tableaux vaguely menacing to me. Look at the expression on Sam's face! He looks like a villain in a Bruce Willis movie! I was reading on Wikipedia this morning that the long-legged, grey haired, be-hatted figure we associate with liberty actually usurped the place of an earlier American icon, "Columbia", who was female (typical). It wasn't until illustrator JM Flagg's runaway success with the "I WANT YOU" campaign that "Uncle Sam" became a familiar face in the American greeting card canon. That dates this card to 1916-1917 at the earliest. And if that doesn't interest you, by golly, it interests me! I thought Sam went back to turkey days and pilgrims as far as domestic iconography went. Ah, well.

source

"HURRAH, A BULLY FOURTH" says our short-panted patriot in this card. I see muskets lined up and drums in the foreground of the picture, and probably what I like best about this little paper remembrance, besides the use of the word "bully" in the greeting, is the makeshift obi the little boy has made of the American Flag. Can you see the turn of the century at-home scene that would have precipitated this ingenuity? "Johnny, Mother says you're to wear some form of patriotic attire! Haven't you a red waistcoat in your wardrobe?" "I haven't, Sister, but rest assured, I will 'make-do' if needs be!" Needs was, and here's the little dude's makeshift solution!

source

Put these two figures together, Uncle Sam and a short pants boy, and what do you get? THE FOURTH OF JULY SPELLED OUT IN DYNAMITE. Now we're talkin! Look at how the little kid has a flag in one hand AND A GUN IN THE OTHER. Who gave that kid a gun? I give up on you, parents of the nineteen teens'. It's a wonder humanity survived the early twentieth century.

So! I gotta go get started on my holiday, but you guys have a safe and fun fourth of July, and I'll see you on the fifth! Til then.

$5 Typewriters EVERYWHERE

Good morning!

Well, in my travels over the last two weeks, I have done a thing I promised myself I wouldn't do-- I've bought an additional two typewriters. You didn't see that one coming, huh? What am I trying to do, open a typing pool in my own home? Hoarders got nothin' on me, kid!

I'm only sorry that I'm not sorry.

We dropped in a Goodwill in northern Georgia on the way back from Atlanta. I am wont to drop in Goodwills that are visible from the interstate but before the exit on any and all trips out of state, and we'd been to this one before with some success. I was bummed because my thirty minute perusal had only turned up two full-slips from the sixties' (one red, one black, both cheap!) and a copy of this Welcome Back Kotter tie in paperback (which I wisely, though not without a tinge of sadness, left behind). I did a last minute walk through housewares when a dark yellow case caught my eye. Hm. I wonder if that's a typewriter, I thought. But surely not, when the entire store has been mostly Kathy Lee Gifford style early nineties' clothes and home decor from the ducks-in-bonnets aesthetic. Snapping open the lid, I was actually a little breathless to see a banana yellow sixties' typewriter sitting inside. No scratches, no dings, no sticky keys, and a faint-but-still-functional ribbon intact! There was even a manual (we'll get to that). Price? $4.99. With a heavy conscience but giddy little heart, I hefted the machine to the checkout counter.

The lighting wasn't capital this morning (or was I just standing in way of the light?), but you can get a look at the looker above. Or, for better photography of the same model, there's this one for sale on Etsy for $174! Yeeks! The manual was printed in Japan, and completely adorable. Those spidery illustrated hands! The aquamarine color of the background! The encouraging tone of the text!

A week later, we were introduced to Savers in St. Louis by Matthew's Memaw, who was on the hunt for a small bookcase. On the way home, I Google-mapped another location in Missouri and found a large, suitcase-like case in the electronics department. When I dutifully opened the case, la-voilá, another gorgeous typewriter. This is a later, more expensive Royal model typewriter, and the carriage and keys work just as flawlessly as if I'd brought it home from a contemporaneous retail environment. The price? Half off the $9.99 price tag, with a Savers card, for which I dutifully signed up. YES!

The color is more off-white than cream in real life, and the typing oh so smooth. Matthew and I both took turns on the keys when we got home, and he was amused to see how fast and adroitly I can work a manual typewriter. And that ain't no fluke! 

When I was in late middle school, my dad brought me home a behemoth of a West-Germany-manufactured seventies' typewriter that was going to get pitched from the high school where he was teaching. "I thought you'd get a kick out of this," he said, installing the machine on a matching stand in my room. Now, over the years, I've gotten all kinds of things that narrowly missed being thrown in a school dumpster this way, but in terms of what I got the most use and enjoyment out of, WHEW, did I love that typewriter. It was the turn of the century 2000's, and my seemingly-Luddite parents hadn't seen fit to buy a computer. I'd seen the internet at school and at my friend Kelsey's house, but it was a long way from being a daily part of my life. With a typewriter at my disposal, I would sit and clack out short stories, neatly amassing a pile of manuscript pages in a wooden box, just like I was Jean Arthur in a thirties' movie and a lecherous boss in shirt sleeves and vest might come in and threaten my virtue by asking me to work late. To this day, I type WAY too hard on a keyboard, and it's a result of having to slam the keys down on the old seventies' typewriter, which, despite oiling, was a persnickety hunk of work if ever there was one (it takes one to know one, and I should know!).

William Faulkner (l) and Marlon Brando (r, with friend), hard at work on typewriters.
 Not bad company to be in, if you ask me! (source)

So! What do I intend to DO with these two typewriters? That brings the count in my house to five. YES FIVE. I'm not as sick about it as you are, but I feel I may need to make some room in the utility/laundry room shelving storage space for the beasts. 

In the meantime, I'm thinking of setting up a guestbook table at the wedding with all the typewriters in a line. How cute would that be? Please, sit, hang out, write me a note on the vintage typewriter of your choosing!

An idea at least! (source)

What have you been collecting lately that you shouldn't, but the temptation is just too great? Do you have a typewriter in your collection? How have you seen vintage knickknacks worked into a wedding or event's decor? Let's talk!

That's all for today, but I'll see you back here tomorrow. Til then!

"Too Much of a Good Thing... is WONDERFUL!" (Behind the Candelabra: My Life with Liberace, 1988)

Good morning!

As we've taken to the road for two consecutive weekends on mini-vacations, I have to mention that I've had occasion to note the best parts about taking roadtrips with Matthew: 

1. He never gets mad at me for insisting we visit the occasional Pocketknife Museum/antique mall/place where a famous playwright was born. Spoiler alert: I am ALWAYS insisting we visit the occasional Pocketknife Museum/antique mall/place where a famous playwright was born.
2. He makes me laugh and gets us special coffee drinks, the better with which to bear the burden of long-term car captivity.
3. He always does all the driving, sans complaint. I hate being in a car, much less driving, so this works in my favor on long trips.
4. He lets me put whatever I want on the radio the WHOLE TIME. This could be anything from my marathon George and Tammy mix cd, to 1930's delta blues, to interminable audiobooks of my choosing.

As much as I love my family, I am the living veteran of dozens of family car trips that began, middle, and ended in circumstances fraught with tension, seat-kicking, and pregnant silences. I can't tell you how comforting it is to know that if we have to drive five hours south for a good time, I won't spend most of the five hours down there listening to a dramatic re-enactment of the old radio show The Bickersons, featuring me in a starring role.

Part four of my above list of praise figures into today's post, because it is all about the book we listened to on the way back from Atlanta, and finished on the way up to St. Louis. Folks, have you heard the good news about Liberace? 

What is with EITHER of these covers? Do you want me to not read the book, or what?

Now, you might be thinking "What red-blooded American male would spend 5 hours in the car listening to a book-on-CD of Liberace's teenage boyfriend's life with the most twinkling of Vegas stars?" LUCKILY, the one I'm getting married to in September!

Scott Thorson's memoir, Behind the Candelabra: My Life with Liberace, is an OLD SCHOOL catty celebrity memoir. Claws are out, ladies and gentlemen. Claws are out. Thorson, who spent a rough childhood bounced around foster homes, met the still-in-the-closet-though-who-ever-thought-he-was-not-openly-gay Liberace in 1976, when he was all of sweet seventeen. The famed pianist was taken by Thorson's blonde, impish good looks and immediately hired him as a "personal assistant". Thorson appeared in that powder blue livery you see on the original publication's cover as Liberace's on-stage "chaffeur". Do you know about the part of the Liberace stage show where the Big L would show up in a Rolls Royce ON THE STAGE? They didn't call him "Mr. Showmanship" for nothing.

I am not kidding. See the video here, see around the three minute mark,
complete with Thorson introduction!

Their relationship lasted five years, during which Thorson enjoyed incredible wealth and luxury. Liberace was famous during his career for the over-the-top nature of his personal and professional lives...why have one piano when you can have twenty? If one chandelier is fabulous, then forty chandeliers are forty times as fabulous! Nothing succeeds like excess, as another gay icon once said. Besides the fact that they owned something like twenty dogs at one time (?!), I have to say probably the most shocking part of the book is Liberace's insistence that Thorson get plastic surgery to...get this...LOOK MORE LIKE LIBERACE. "I want us to look like family!" he says, at one point even dangling the possibility of formally adopting Scott. Now, in the early 80's, when gay marriage was still a distant dream, maybe it would make sense to adopt your much younger lover in order to make sure a legally binding bond existed between the two of you, to make sure your loved one was not left destitute at the time of your demise. AND YET. I am still given a case of the heebies thinking about a man forty years his troubled, confused boyfriend's senior, blurring the younger man's sense of identity with the promise of "belonging". It all just seems too weird. Also, why would you get surgery to look like Liberace?! No shade intended, but he's no Cary Grant!

Thorson post surgery. What is with that chin? That was one of the main things
Liberace wanted him to have, a chin implant! And for what? (source)

The lion's share of the text is the regular "oh I never thought I could get used to THIS style of living" memoir you get from someone who was intimately acquainted with a famous celebrity. The thing that always gets me about these books is how SIMILAR the story arc runs. Celebrity meets civilian, woos civilian, introduces civilian to a life of luxury heretofore undreamed of, celebrity becomes controlling of civilian, civilian doesn't have enough time/opportunities to pursue own interests, celebrity and/or civilian get involved in drugs, the two break up, years later, the civilian writes a book. Thorson picked up a nasty drug habit  a little before and definitely after the plastic surgery incident, where he was prescribed amphetamine cocktails to lose weight by Liberace's doctor, and just ran with it. The spin out that was precipitated by Thorson's increasing drug use, and Liberace's own infidelities, broke up the happy Thorson/Liberace home, but Scott wasn't going out without a bang. He initiated a groundbreaking, same-sex palimony case, the first of its kind, in 1982 against the entertainer, alleging that he had been promised salaries and long-term employment that abruptly ended when he and Liberace's relationship did. They settled out of court in 1986, and Liberace died the following spring. Sad, sad, sad.

Doesn't he look kind of like a lamp here? (source)

Reading this book through the lens of 2013, it's interesting to think of how deeply Liberace's fame dipped after his death. While he was consistently one of the highest paid and beloved floor acts of all time, making money hand over fist on packed venues and lucrative souvenir contracts, before this movie came into production, I just barely knew anything about him. He spent a lifetime creating, nurturing, and maintaining an image that, once he was gone, began immediately to fade into obscurity. His museum, once visited by tourists in droves in the early eighties', closed in 2010 due to low attendance. Isn't that strange? I think it's the specific burden of the stage performer-- had he been in the movies, there would still be footage to back up his iconic status, but the record releases and videotapes of his show are a paltry second-best to what I've heard of the "magic" he could create during one of his live performances. Even Thorson admits of his former lover that the man could make a room light up, and have each of the seats in his sold out shows feel like the front row at an intimate, command performance. I feel sorry for Liberace that his legacy, in 2013, depends on a dramatization of what must have been one of the most painfully public invasions of his closely guarded private life.

source

That said, I'm extremely interested to see the HBO movie based on the book. In the hands of director Steven Soderbergh, I'm sure some of those identity issues will come to light, along with a more sensitive reading of the whole story than perhaps Thorson's own account allows for. 

So! What have you been reading lately? Have you seen the Liberace movie yet? Any thoughts on the glittering lifestyle of one of the world's most famous 20th century entertainers? Let's talk!

Gotta skedaddle, but I'll see you back here tomorrow (hopefully with some pictures of the stuff I bought last weekend)! Til then.

                           

Sugar as Diet Food?! (Domino's Sugar, 1954-1956)

Good morning!

Another outta-town weekend means another Monday that has crept up on me like the night! We had a great time in St.Louis with Matthew's Memaw. Our visit included a marathon of politely cutthroat Yahtzee games (i.e., my true idea of heaven on earth, endless Yahtzee...it's THE MOST ADDICTIVE GAME), chats-a-plenty with one of my favorite soon-to-be-relatives, and a couple stops at Midwest thrift stores and antique malls on the way to and from the Show Me state. I managed to make a good haul, and some surprising bargains, but I was so sleepy from all the in-the-car time yesterday that I pretty much flopped upon arriving home. I'll do some photo posts later in the week to show you, but meanwhile...

I have GOT to show you these ads I found for Domino's Sugar, circa 1954-1956. I don't know if it's the coffee I've been slugging or just the sheer amazing bravado of these ads, but I about hopped out of my seat at work when I saw the first one in a 1955 copy of Life. Domestic scene at the kitchen table, where both members of a married couple are trying to lose a few pounds to fit into the those sharp, tiny 1950's  clothing silhouettes, no doubt:

Am I seeing things? Is this REALLY an ad extolling the health virtues of CANE SUGAR ITSELF? Take a look at the fine print:

I feel like the crows in Dumbo crooning "When I See an Elephant Fly" here....WHAT. A DIET BOOKLET BY DOMINO SUGAR? You can see some of the scans of a real-life copy of this book here at the Nickadizzy blog. I am all out of words, dude. As another blogger mentioned on another site (I can't find it now! They know who they are), with reference to this manual, it's essentially encouraging you to replace one diet item from your already meager diet food portions with a cup of coffee and sugar.

LOOK AT THIS:

It's Mad Men era advertising spin at its most dervish-like....wait, I mean....what are you even saying? They're different kinds of sugar! I can guaran-damn-tee you just because 3 tsp of sugar has fewer calories than a grapefruit, its consumption will not aid your weight loss one iota. Retraining your mind to think of sugar and coffee as "good" and fruit as "bad"....well, I could not be more incredulous if I tried. I remember reading that no less than my idol Joan Crawford followed a strict dieters-diet of LOTS of coffee and very little food. See this excerpt from a 1936 Vanity Fair profile:

Except for six or eight cups of coffee a day and about a package of cigarettes, her diet is spartan...When she is working on a picture, she drinks a cup of hot water when she is called at six o'clock, has fruit juice and coffee for breakfast, a salad for lunch, and dinner without white bread or potatoes. She drinks wine now and then, but no hard liquor.

Sure, that near-anorexia gave La Crawford her signature racehorse sleek physique in the thirties', but I do not see Domino's sugar included anywhere in that regime! ((tuts to self))

Here's another spot for Domino's signature "Energy Lift":

I love that the husband is chiding the wife. No one on a diet at any time ever forgets that they are on a diet! Reminds me of that hall-of-fame bad-boyfriend quote from Love Actually, "No one's gonna fancy a girl with thighs the size of big tree trunks." 1955 housewife to spouse: "Thanks for the reminder, husband! I forgot about how fat I am...I really should cut down on the sugar. PSYCH! I SHOULD DRINK SUGAR COFFEE WITH EVERY MEAL!" ((totally flips out in throes of sugar psychosis))

Being a lifelong on-again, off-again dieter, never able to peaceably eat a piece of chocolate cake or fried-anything without cringing and thinking of the consequences, I think about how much harder it must have been to keep on a diet in pre-1980's America. It would be a shot in the dark to cut out x in favor of y, because for all you know that information may completely made up or the result of a passing fad. If you think being told carbs are bad in all forms is wrong (as many dietitians bemoaned after the last Atkins craze of the early 2000's), think about if you were being told sugar, like granulated sugar, was better for you than fruit. What in the heck, people.

What are your thoughts? Could you believe the gall on Domino's behalf, claiming "up was down" in the name of selling more sugar packets, even to dieters, in 1955? What crazy diet have you gone on or almost tried? What regimen did your mother or grandmother stick to when wanting to drop a couple pounds? I'd love to hear you chime in on this craziness.

That's all for today, I gotta get back to work, kids! Have a great Monday, and I'll see you back here tomorrow.

PS: Need to see this with your own eyes? Etsy seller rarefinds4u has one for sale here. I'm tempted!