Blane, Evelyn and Steve (and Pierre?) goofing on the front porch at 500 Walter Street, Kennett, MO. Date unknown.
Category Archives: Family & Friends
My first steps?
Another never-before-seen photo from the recently discovered Mystery Photo Album. My mother had written “first steps” on the border of the photo. I was born in March and it looks like I’m about one year old here so, spring of 1949? Tried to remove the crease but it looked worse so I left it. This is as close to time travel as I’ll get.
John and Evelyn (March, 1946)
I’ve read that memories are not retrieved or recalled but recreated. Sort of recompiled, changing slightly each time. Is a photo a memory? Only if I took the photo, was there to experience the moment captured. Is a photo history? Arguably more accurate than the one my brain creates.
I’m not headed anywhere with this, just rambling. These two photos are of my mother and father (and an unidentified friend). Probably taken sometime in 1946. My father was discharged from the Navy on March 9, 1946. He married my mother on March 23, 1946. So, as mom often claimed, they knew each other for two weeks before taking the plunge. This suggests the photos below were taken in March of 1946.
I can never know the people in these photos. What that time was like for them. This is as close as I will ever come. One instant in time (two in this case). Where were they? How long had they known each other. When/where/how did they meet? Who took the photos and why? Then again, maybe it’s better not to know. We can create our own histories, which we do in any event.
For me There is powerful magic in old photos. Even if I don’t know the people.
Barb
Did social media kill graffiti?
I’m not talking about spray painted tags on the sides of rail cars, rather those pithy little observations on the walls of restroom stalls.
This was a big thing (at least in my circle) during the late 60s and 70s. My first recollection of this art form was in the hall bathroom outside Dr. Peck’s TV room. This was hangout #1 for our tribe (we didn’t call it that back then). Someone (Richard or Charlie?) had tacked a piece of poster board to the bathroom door with a Bic pen hanging on a piece of string. Someone would scribble something clever and others would comment in endless strings of puns and nonsense.
I don’t recall these ever being discussed face-to-face, the conversation was limited to the poster board. When it was so filled there was no room for one more witticism, the poster was replaced and the old one archived somewhere.
In the photo below you see what I believe is a piece of sheetrock leaning against a wall in the living room of the house where AJ and I lived (Church Street, Kennett, MO). There was a party nearly every night and it didn’t take long to completely cover a piece of poster board.
If there was a zeitgeist for this golden age of my youth, it was scrawled on these graffiti boards. Today these bon mots are tweeted or IM’d Instagrammed but surely something is lost.
50th High School Class Reunion
30 or 40 eighteen-year-old ghosts trapped in ravaged, aging bodies shuffling around the room desperately trying to recognize people you knew half a century ago. The time-honored tradition of name tags featuring photos from the high school yearbook was honored. So we smiled and shook hands and looked down at the kids we once were, unable to conceal the “what the fuck happened to you” horror.
We only lost 30 or so classmates (from a class of about 150) which is sort of amazing given that we all grew up eating nothing but fried food and breathing crop dusting chemicals and the toxic plume that was sprayed every summer night to battle the clouds of mosquitos.
I went with some trepidation (I went to the 10 year reunion but none after) but wound up enjoying myself. I can’t speak for others but the person looking out of my eyes was/is that 18 year old who went to school with all of the old people in the room, with their titanium knees and heart stints. I couldn’t see the old me they were seeing. I hope and assume it was the same for everyone.
No, what I thought would be a depressing shuffle down memory lane turned out okay. Maybe a little “survivor high” if there is such a thing. We made it! We’re still here! “Fuckin A!” as we said in 1966.
Goodbye Windows, hello Chrome
My friend John has a desktop Windows computer that is infested with malware and update demands. He asked my advice on cleaning it up and I suggested he junk it and get a Chromebook. He agreed and asked me to help so (with the assistance of +George Kopp) I ordered an Acer Chromebook 14. This week I’m headed south to deliver and help make the transition from Windows to Chrome OS.
I signed up to test the early Chromebook from Google and they sent me one to play with (and keep). This was in 2011? It was a good box and had I not already purchased a MacBook, I could have been happy with the Chromebook. The new hardware and software is even better.
He asked me to get him a new printer and George recommended a Brother HLL2360DW wireless laster printer. Again, very impressed and only $150. For less than $500 my friend is getting a new laptop and printer. Not bad. And the printer does Google Cloud Print. Nice.
No more malware. No more constant updates (automatic in the background). Thank you Chrome OS.
Business Class. The only way to fly.
My brother travels often enough he occasionally gets an upgrade to Business Class. Happily reports he slept 11 of the 13 hour flight back from recent two week China trip. Think Gomer Pyle on Air Force One. Total miles traveled: 19,557
Hattie
I’ve posted dozens of nearly identical photos of Hattie but I never tire of seeing this pup in her favorite places.
Hattie
