Aug. 02, 2004 - 17:26 MDT

THE WONDERING JEW

Of Old

Memories of hot summer days, some good, others ?

In the days of no air conditioning I remember walking down the side walk or up the alley and getting a whiff and quick smell of what my friends were having for supper. Days of screen doors and screened windows where cooking smells attracted the nose and stomach and the sounds of arguments attracted a kids curiosity.

The Saturday sounds of someone's Dad or older brother splitting kindling wood. Carpet's hung over clothes-lines being beaten, dust from them assailing one's nose. Whop - whop - whop. The sound of a reel lawnmower being pushed back and forth and the smell of new mown grass.

Going down-town and seeing in the front window of a candy shop the machine, at work pulling taffy. An attractive nuisance to an adult but a look and smell of a kids heaven. And the associated smells from the candy shop coming out from the open door.

I liked to slowly walk past the tobacco shop catching the nicotine aroma of good smokes. Of course by the time I got down town by myself I was smoking B&W's Golden Grain roll-your-own and was able to appreciate the smell of the real, good stuff.

I am not sure of what the movie theaters used but each one had a pleasant distinctive odor. Advertising that one was about to enter into the enchantment of Hollywood-land where all things were possible.

Back then I think there was much more tar in blacktop, walking on it, smelling it, feeling it give underfoot on a hot day. Down-town in front of most every jewelry store, out by the curb were those clocks on pedestals, high enough that a motorist could see them. Funny thing, most of them in my memory seemed to be coordinated too. Remembering the feel of cool water bubbling up from the fountains on the downtown streets and the feel of it going down when I was thirsty. A point of interest to me was the little bowl at the bottom of the drinking fountain fed by the overflow from above, providing a drink for animals. But by the time I was old enough to go down town one no longer saw horses having a drink, but dogs still used them.

When I was a kid people hadn't yet come unglued by signs everywhere, and there were some dillys. It made riding into down-town at night a techni-color lighted adventure, giving the feeling to me of entering into a grown up fascinating world where exciting things were happening. Out from towns were sign boards galore. For the most part those were close to towns and scenery soon came into view. In later years sign boards were elbow to elbow which caused the uproar, which then, I think, propagated the anti-sign feelings in town. I was used to the lighted signs and things didn't seem the same when the streets were more or less emptied of the signs.

One thing back then, most buildings down town had been built in the 80s (1880s that is) and etched in one's memories. The buildings always the same, but often had new owners and businesses in them. In my memory is the old Denver Post Office, a beautiful, classical, marble structure, a delight to most anyone's eye. Daniel's and Fisher's store which occupied a whole city block with its tower, one that once was about the highest building in town. Downtown at least. Perhaps the Cathredral of the Immaculate Conception on East Colfax and Pennsylvania on Capitol Hillwas taller, but both of them stood out plainly when one looked at town from afar.

The American Furniture store, across the street from Daniel's and Fisher's which occupied an old theater building. The old orchestra pit lower than the main floor and having a full row of china closets as a screen. The orchestra pit was where the salesmen had their desks and chairs. An ideal site it was. Entry on the corner of 16th and Lawrence led into the big room of fancy furniture, beautiful woods on display for one to admire. Directly across 16th street was the Golden Eagle a department store where things could be bought at a lower price than most anywhere else.

Movie theaters in that area were grand treats for folks to take in. The oldest I think was the Tabor Grand Opera House, one of the Silver King's, H.A.W. Tabor's projects in town. Uptown was The Denver Theater with the grand pipe organ having the keyboard underground and raised when it was played by an accomplished organist. A treat for the ears it was. The Denham was another good one down there. The Rialto, next door to Baur's was a good one too -- but the other side of 16th on Curtis were the vaudeville theaters converted to movie houses that didn't do so well and showed as near as x-rated movies as they were allowed to show. Teen age paradise they were. Most kids that could see over the counter of the ticket booth were, I guess, considered old enough to enter if they paid.

And then, way up on Capitol Hill on Colfax near York Street was the Alladin movie house. As near a replica of the Taj Mahal as could be achieved and still provide seating. I still remember the glass covered, lit treasure chest on an upper level. Oh, it was posh for sure. I remember that most movie houses had in the evening show the words on the screen a song-fest "follow the bouncing ball" bit so people could follow along singing.

Some old entries I am somewhat ashamed to admit, although most other kids did them too. Money was few and far between and supporting a tobacco habit, even on the 5 cent Golden Grain, was often not possible. I remember cruising the gutters and snagging some of the longer tailor made butts, using small embroidery scissors to neatly trim off the burnt end and sanitarily lighting the end that had been in someone's mouth. Some people were quite wasteful even back then. Also, ever the scrounge, I would gather the empty packs from cigarettes and gum and peel the tinfoil from them. Once I had a huge ball of it harboring the dream that it could eventually be sold, but it was thrown out after a lecture about gutter delving. Empty pop-bottles were worth 2 cents a piece at the store, we kids would roam the alleys and snatch them up from trash barrels.

Trash barrels were the source of many of our playthings adapted from most anything.

Hallowe'en time was the time to soap windows and other nefarious things collect handouts and generally have fun, wearing whatever we had in the way of costumes, most of us boys in our neighborhood used hats and vests of dads and uncles, a corn cob pipe and face blackened with cork in imitation of a face of whiskers and felt we were the hoest of hoboes, which we did. Some of the kids who had grudges would take bars of wax and wax windows, I would call that actual vandalism because wax was so awfully hard to get off glass.

Christmas time all the commercial-down-town area had decorations on the lamp posts and many of the stores piped music out onto the sidewalk. Wall to wall cacaphony as the carols grated on each other. Some of the big department stores, had front windows decorated with moving Christmas scenes, like Santa's work shop.

A short walk through yesteryear has been much better than the scare news of today, which it appears to me to be escalated and could get more strident as election nears, until the time the politicos put the damper on the scary stuff and decide that "mission accomplished" and go for broke on the election. Thing to think about is that the bad guys could still pull off a macabre event killing many people. That and the United pension scare that pensions will disappear.

I would much rather remember, even the bad stuff of my days Of Old . . . . . . . . .

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