Wilderness Hair care

  

It's a picnic, so close enough to a wilderness experience.  

Cantaloupe

 

I like cantaloupe too.  

Potluck

As I've noted before, sometimes I buy envelopes of old photographs, some of which I want and others, not.  Anyway, I don't throw any of them away, but I do have a box of old snapshots that will never get posted on this blog.  This one was kind of floating between those two poles, but in the end, I decided to publish it because it reminded me of my childhood.  I grew up in a small town where there was an endless stream of fundraiser/potluck dinners.  My mother couldn't cook worth a damn, so I enjoyed eating other people's food, and while it's true that those potlucks were dominated by macaroni casseroles and ambrosia  (I'm still not certain what ambrosia is) it was a hell of a lot better than what I got at home.

There's a processors stamp on the back, "PRINT MADE BY KODAK, R, SEP. 76."  The R stands for R-print, a reversal image made directly from a color transparency.

Put A Fork In It

What is that guy eating?  If it were meat, it would droop a bit.  Watermelon would probably break apart.  Then again, back then, watermelon wasn't the seedless, soft monstrosity it is today.

Fine Outside Dinning With Puppies

Yes there are puppies in this photo.

Beer

Are they sharing that beer?  I hope so.  If not, she has a hell of a capacity for alcohol.  These are real photo postcards, and I'm guessing they're from Germany.  

Eating Outside

Pretty soon, we'll be eating outside.  Written on the back, "In Rancho Bar-B-Q."

Steamed Crabs on Fisherman's Wharf, S.F.

Addressed to "Lois & Gil Yorba, 110-Morton Ave., Sierra Madre, Cal." This is the second postcard I have, sent to the Yorba family during World War 2. (Navigate back one to see the other.) The great depression and the war were great periods of internal migration in American history. The Yorba family had either family or friends who, at least, got to San Francisco and New York City. If they were like most Americans they knew people who spent time at a military training camp in some other part of the country, working at a war plant far from home, or overseas in Europe or the South Pacific. My father was born in 1919, dropped out of high school in the ninth grade because of the depression. He and his father ended up living in a dug out. (They dug out a flat spot on a hill side, pounded in some planking as a roof, shored it all up, and had an old rug for a door.) Then he ended up a homeless teenager, spending time with both the CCC and WPA. Then it was into the peace time army, then a few months after returning to civilian life, drafted into the war time army. As a cryptographer he never saw combat. but he did live in Iceland, England, France and then Germany. He thought that that was a good thing, and if it hadn't been for the depression and the war, he may have never got further than a few hundred miles from his small, home town.

"One of the principal industries of San Francisco is fishing, and centers around this point. From Fisherman's Wharf the fishing boats leave each morning to make their catches in shell fish and other sea foods. Here one may partake of the freshly caught ocean delicacies in one of the many outdoor stands or in the fine restaurants adjacent." Post marked, "SAN FRANCISCO, CALIF MAY 31 9:30 PM 1944" And the message, "Hello, We are simply eating ourselves in to a stupor but surely enjoying it. Going dancing at the Mark tonite. C you this weekend. Mary & Steve." And written in a different hand with a different ink, 'STAN HAS A NEW CADILLAC!" Of course since the auto industry had been turned over to war work, Stan had a used Cadillac new to him.