the good old days

My uncle recently passed on a gold mine of old correspondence and miscellaneous papers that somehow survived for generations. I’m slowly scanning and transcribing them for personal genealogy purposes. Some of them, however, are quite funny.

This one is from some nephew of my great-great-great-grandfather.

Ottawa
Franklin County
Kansas
Febr’y 4th 1866
Mr. Andrew J. Smith

My Dear Uncle,

I will try and converse with you silently, but through asking medium (the sew) Etta has gone across the street to meeting to hear the old minister at Kastmison [??] deliver one of his good Sermons. But I am alone and did not nor do not feel very much like going to church. And I thought I could make it a very interesting moment to write to you.

In the first place, Dear Uncle, let our Conversations one to the other be strictly Confidential, uttering truth and veracity, being honest and true to our trust, treating every Subject that may come before our observation or hearing with Justice and Prosperity to all. Too doubtless are our Correspondence comes to “finish” it will be interesting to both.

In the first place I wish to give you my Position and Circumstances in life, what they have been and what they are now and what I would wish to be in the future. As a young man in Business I am considered by those who have tried my facilities to be very good, honest, and prudent, and an eye to Business. My Circumstances when I cam out of the army were good. I had the means to have gone right along with anything. But my mother disappointed me Sadly and almost left me with poverty staring, staring me in the face. My wife when I first came here became very sick with Bilious intermittent fever and almost died. But medical aid restored her to very good health again, and when her Doctor Bill and my Bill of Expense in the Law Suit for my mules, I had 15 cents in Currency. I sat down and looked at the world and then at my wife and myself, and I concluded work was no disgrace, however talented, and I went to hard labor at a saw mill here. From that to clerking and now I have just finished a small building here on Main Street at an expense of $202. The lot I built upon is to be paid for within a Year from the time I came upon it, as for $150, I am to pay yearly $20.00 for rent of said lot. I have a choice to buy at what town lots are selling for or pay 20 a year for the lease of it. I desire to go into the Grocery Business and Tobacco & Cigar Business as I am a cigar maker by trade and also a Barber by trade. And I think by discreet management, I will in 40-50 years come out all right. My means are all in my house now. But if I can fill it by labor I will do so, and by the way if I should wish any of your assistance could you give it to me. I do not think I will need any assistance at present But in the Spring I may want more means than I will then have and if I should need ask it of you I will give you security if you desire it. But if I Borrow from you I will want 2 years time and pay the last cent on the money you furnish.

I may wish to Borrow $200 and with what I will then have I can open a good Business. But if I draw the $200 bounty the 161 [61?] soldiers or those who received only 100 I will need no assistance and if you know whether that Bounty Bill has passed let me know. I heard it had passed the house. I am working at my trade now and am doing very well considering I save about $5.00 per week a living beside. But I am going to make money faster soon if I have good success. I understand Mr. Donnbergh is agoing to move to this place but he can’t do any better than I. one consolation at least his money does not trouble him any I guess. I am well and Etta also. She sends love to you and Aunt Mary. Have you any cousins to me left. Don’t read this line only in the dark. I have no family left and a slim chance of if ever I have. Accept my love &c

Your nephew Henry

Ex-soldier, counting on an inheritance but ending up with a bilious wife and lien on his mules, ends up building a house in Ottawa Kansas and going into random business as a grocer/tobacconist/barber.

At least this man can spell; Andrew Smith’s brother-in-law wrote many letters home to his sister, and spelled everything phonetically. Arrrrrgh…

9/11 conspiracy theory discussion going on, one cubicle over…

… just a quick note to say how much I hate those fucking idiots!

But, uh, seriously — it very well may cause that. I can’t guarantee it won’t. I hereby refuse to accept any liability if you’re reading this on an airplane and suddenly get eaten by Gorgo.

Go have some fun yourself at the Warning Sign Generator.

Grandma knew how to be thrifty. She used everything. None of this modern wasteful throwing away of, for example, calf’s heads.

Calf’s Head Surprised

And the dish set before them,–O dish well devised!–
Was what Old Mother Glasse calls “a calf’s head surprised.”
—MOORE.

Instructions: Clean and blanch a calf’s head, boil it till the bones will come out easily, then bone and press it between two dishes, so as to give it a headlong form; beat it with the yolks of four eggs, a little melted butter, pepper and salt. Divide the head when cold, and brush it all over with the beaten eggs, and strew over it grated bread, which is put over one half; a good quantity of finely minced parsley should be mixed; place the head upon a dish, and bake it of a nice brown color. Serve it with a sauce of parsley and butter, and with one of good gravy, mixed with the brains, which have been previously boiled, chopped, and seasoned with a little cayenne and salt.

Of course, this is from an 1864 cookbook, so it isn’t really grandma, it’s great-great-great-grandma. And she was probably chided by great-great-great-great-grandma for wasting the skullbones. You can make … uh … calf bone stew with that.

Of course, I’m sure you’re all wondering how the hell you’d carve a calf’s head, right?

Commence by making long slices from end to end of the cheek, cutting quite through… With each of these slices serve a cut of what is called the throat sweet-bread, which lies at the fleshy part of the neck end…. A little of the tongue is usually placed on each plate, and about a spoonful of the brains…. Many persons consider the palate a dainty, and it should always be offered at table to the guests or members of the family.

Quick — what is the first word that pops into your mind when looking at these images? (Hint: it’s just one word!)

I’m willing to bet it was NOT “constipation.”

First one from Vintage Scans, second from Found in Mom’s Basement.

Having been out of town for ages, then having relatives visiting us, it’s taking days to catch up on my RSS feeds. I had no idea I read so much stuff. Good thing I’m being downsized, I’ll have more time for reading random blogs!

Two nice short olde tyme things from Modern Mechanix… Leg Falsies from 1953 (as if small boobs weren’t enough, now we need to worry about curvaceous calf muscles) or an 1950 ad for Americanized Judo (you don’t want to accidentally learn that Godless Commie Judo, after all).

It started out rather innocently. One day there was a huge rumble of thunder, the normal ramp-up of a thunderstorm echoing around the hills of southern Indiana. My two-year-old comes running in, crying, “There’s a bear outside!” I laugh, and tell her, “No, sweetie, that’s thunder.”

“Ohhhhh,” she says, eyes growing wide. “Thunder Bear!”

And the myth grew from there. Whenever Thunder Bear growled, my daughter shrieked in half-real fear. Eventually, she decided he must ride a motorcycle around the sky — a Midwest thunderstorm can be quite loud and persistent, exhausting the vocalizing power of even the most persistent of angry ursines. If it started raining while we were in the car, she declared Thunder Bear was riding along with us on the roof. At times, she would feed him, tossing pretend food through a pretend roof hole.

Now, two years later, she has decided that Thunder Bear is a god and told us so at a recent Shabbat meal. While we’re hardly the most observant of Jews, it did seem a little inappropriate. To abide by the first commandment, though, we made sure she understood that G-d is number one and there are no others before him — they’re welcome to hang out after him. But I fear it’s only a matter of time before we’re starting to leave out sacrificial bowls of honey to propitiate Thunder Bear (or attract him, since the Midlands of South Carolina seem to be drought-prone).

I can’t wait to introduce her to the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster

Or so Skyy seems to think.

If you haven’t heard about the recent “alternative” map in an Absolut Vodka advertisement, you obviously don’t read enough blogs. Try Strange Maps for a good, succinct description.

This (in part) was Absolut’s response to angry US residents:

We have a variety of executions running in countries worldwide, and each is germane to that country and that population. This particular ad, which ran in Mexico, was based upon historical perspectives and was created with a Mexican sensibility. In no way was this meant to offend or disparage, nor does it advocate an altering of borders, nor does it lend support to any anti-American sentiment, nor does it reflect immigration issues.

Apparently seeing a chance to continue the, uh, discussion, Skyy Vodka put out its own press release:

… Today, SKYY(R) Vodka… spoke out against suggestions by Absolut(R) Vodka to disregard [the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo], as well as the joining of Texas to the Union in 1845, as depicted in Absolut’s recent advertising.

“Like SKYY Vodka, the residents of states like California, Texas and Arizona are exceptionally proud of the fact that they are from the United States of America,” said Dave Karraker, SKYY Vodka. “To imply that they might be interested in changing their mailing addresses, as our competitor seems to be suggesting in their advertising, is a bit presumptuous….”

“Don’t get me started on the Gadsden Purchase,” continues Karraker….

In 1848, the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo had a number of far-reaching implications beyond simply “changing the mailing addresses” of Mexican residents. It also meant:

• Native Americans living in that region, who had been Mexican citizens, would have to wait a while to be recognized as citizens of any country.
• The slavery debate would be heated up as both sides of the issue wrangled over whether it would be legal to own people in the new territories. (It is odd to see the Civil War portrayed as a consequence of many changed mailing addresses.)
• The formerly Mexican citizens allegedly became American citizens, but quickly found their citizenship (and their land claims) did not have as much weight as those of white Americans.

It seems Karraker hasn’t read much of the history behind the map, or the history of the States he cites; nor is he interested in any consequences beyond the positive ones for the winning side. He also doesn’t want any Mexicans to buy Skyy (which plays neatly into Absolut’s advertising strategy).

Manifest Destiny isn’t a principle that Americans should be incredibly proud of. The issues it stirred up at Guadalupe Hidalgo 160 years ago are still simmering today. It happened, and we live with the consequences. It’s not likely that half the country will be given back to Mexico to right old wrongs, so it is petty to suggest that an advertising campaign could cause that, and farcical to suggest that the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo worked out well for everybody. I am proud of my country. But that doesn’t mean that my country has always been right.

So, my point in a nutshell: vodka PR reps are not historians, and definitely are not diplomats.

From Modern Mechanix: M. Freyssinet designed the Phare du Monde for the 1937 Paris Exhibition.

I’ve driven up curvy windy roads around the sides of mountains, and, being afraid of heights, I found it to be one of the most traumatic experiences in my life. (It was better going down, when we weren’t DIRECTLY NEXT TO A HUGE DROP. Errrrgh. I need to take my laptop downstairs now.) I can’t imagine driving in circles up something twice as tall as the Empire State Building. I can’t imagine driving in circles up something half as tall as the Empire State Building. I have nightmares about combination lighthouse-parking garages that look a lot like this.

I also love the top-floor garage. Keep in mind we’re talking about cars from the 1930’s, which were about twenty tons of solid steel each (well, the American cars were — I’m not positive about European models prior to World War II). So storing 500 cars would get a little heavy… However, Eugène Freyssinet apparently did a lot with pre-stressed concrete and wasn’t a complete crackpot, so maybe this design could have worked.

Or, maybe this was Eugène’s cousin, Pierre Freyssinet, who architecture specialized in pure crazy. The Modern Mechanix article isn’t specific

In honor of (and, I confess, to mildly tease) my brother who is in training to fight fires, and knows enough to not do it in his underwear….

Despite this 1953 ad, I am not really surprised that firefighters around the world didn’t switch over to the Jean Paul Gaultier line of protective gear.

Jean Paul Gaultier?

Try… Late 80’s?
Madonna?
Cone bra?
Now do you get it?

Thanks to I’m Learning to Share for the strange, strange ad.