Feb. 16, 2002 - 18:17 MST

THE WONDERING JEW

Small Stuff

My pal Ziggy makes a good point in his panel in the comics this morning. He is looking over yearbooks and photo albums and he says, "Just because you shouldn't live in the past doesn't mean its not a nice place to visit ! !" I think he has a good point there.

I have a nice time when I go through old photo albums, old newspaper pages looking into the past, some of which I remember. Seeing old pictures and the unsmiling faces so clearly shown. Was it because no one could hold a smile that long back then ? I guess it took a long time to take a photo then. Then too maybe having one's picture was a deadly serious business and no one was allowed to be joyous ?

I remember the times some picture taker would tell us to say cheese. It worked for me, because of what was said. The pure silliness of it tickled me and I would smile. Guess for some people that may be the only way to get the appearance of a smile from them.

I was thinking just now of shops that I remember. The old millinery shops, where women's hats were custom made. I haven't seen one of those since I was a kid. Back then it seemed ours was a society that lived in hats. Hats were even forced on us bareheaded kids. Which caused us much grief, hat snatching in kid years was a sport of the big boys to tease us little kids. I remember climbing a tree or two after a hat of mine and sneaking up on someone's roof on the same activity. Trying to shake out the playground dirt from a cap so that it would be passable at home.

Back then a person could go to a shoemaker's shop and actually have shoes made to order. Another place that seemed to be men only were haberdasher's stores, wonder what the call them now ? I rember that now when walking through the malls there are stores which sell mens clothing but I don't see, "Haberdasher's," out at the front of the store. There was an interval of time that department stores began to have men's departments.

Neckties, an instrument of the devil as far as I was concerned were tied around my neck against my will. Same as hats, a bigger boy holding on to the loose end of my tie wouldn't choke me to death but sure restricted my breathing tube. Adults telling me I looked nice wearing a necktie were adding insult to injury as far as I was concerned.

I remember a dress up shirt I had as a kid. Durn thing was Pongee, silk I think, just from the looks of that fabric it appeared to me like it was sissy stuff. Aw Shucks, but Mom said I looked so nice in it and all I could see in the mirror was and embarassed young boy.

When I would be looking at old photos and strange old clothes, the first thing that struck me was how uncomfortable the subjects looked. Collars tight, neckties cinched up, vests under the outer coats buttoned all the way up. I was born naked and have tried for the informal style of life since then. About the only need for clothes I could see as a kid was for walking through thickets of stickers or being somewhere that sparks or hot grease might land on skin. Wintertime I did use warm clothes gladly.

Eventually you might say I was tamed and housebroke, but only if I could be "free and easy" comfortable. I hated pullon shirts and sweaters. Why ? Because it required hair combing all over again. Take the durn thing off because of overheating and on donning it again a comb had to be dug out of my back pocket and the chore of trying to get my hair right again was just one more doggone civilized thing that hemmed me in.

There were good things, most of them simple but oh so enjoyable. A glass of sweetened iced tea, with the ice chips tinkling against the glass was such a treat on a hot summer's day. Lemonade and orangeade were special treats too. A pint of ice cream from the creamery up the avenue was always enjoyed and cookies fresh from the bakery oven were gobbled down. I fondly remember juicy watermelons on a picnic which had been pulled from an icy mountain stream where they had been put to cool along with the soft drinks first thing. Rocky Ford Cantaloupes, honeydew melons and all the finger fruit that could be had in the summer time, the potato salads and other goodies made super special by the women for picnics.

Christmas time brought one of my favorite things, tangerines, they are still one of my favorite citrus fruits.

It seems to me that people in general were closer together. On a warm summer evening we would be walking and would stop to visit with neighbors on their front porches. There were card games with neighbors and families. Chewing the rag was a pastime at the grocery store, hardware store and the macho palace - the barber shop. I hated to have my hair cut but enjoyed the repartee between the adults there.

Those truly were different times back then. Two times I would see men run, when they were playing ball or trying to catch the street car just before it started up again, other than that it seemed to me a dignified walk was the rule. I remember my Dad coming home from work after a hot summer day at the office, his hat on, coat buttoned up over his vest, coming in the house hanging his coat and vest up to air out, his hat put in its place and necktie coming off, the last thing was rolling his shirt sleeves up. Then there would be a reserved smile on his face for a short time, he was finally comfortable.

I remember going to vaudville with Mom and Dad when I was very young. And being taken to a theater that featured such things as operettas. Those things had live people and bands in the orchestra pit.

Usually Dad would get a bunch of ride tickets for the amusement park when his company was having their annual picnic. Back then each ride had a ticket booth and tickets for rides were sold there. But if I had that long string of tickets all I had to do was get in line and hand a ticket for that ride to the operator and away I went. There was no way my folks could afford an afternoon of enjoyment for me at so much per ride, it was expensive. When I was older my trips to the amusement parks were to dance, The El Patio at Lakeside and the Trocadero at Elitch Gardens. I used to listen to the big bands when they were at the Trocadero, they all came through Denver, I think it they played at least a week's engagement. Anyhow all I had to pay back then was to get me and a girl through the park gate, the dancing was free.

Neighborhood grocery stores would have handbills distributed in their area by young kids, door to door. A big armload would bring me a quarter in pay. I really cost my Mom more on my shoe leather than I made passing out handbills, but I had the satisfaction of working for a place of business for something as a youngster.

I'm thinking of a saying, the title of a book I think, that is how I felt as a kid. "Don't sweat the small stuff, and its all Small Stuff . . . . . . .

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