Test Pattern

 Originally published 7/12/21

We weren’t the first of families to own a TV set.  They were novelties then and whenever relatives were together, if a TV was available, we would gather and watch.  There wasn’t much in the way of programming at the time.  Whatever the programming was it was in black and white and I don’t recall channel choices during the ‘50’s in Kansas. 

I do recall sitting on the floor in front of the TV before the Saturday broadcasting began staring at the test pattern that featured the Indian Chief and listening to that test tone.  My God, the anticipation of staring at that image while having that unwavering low fidelity tone blast through my head.  It was divine in such an unacceptable way by today’s standards.  In order to distract kids during the pre-programming test pattern period some crafty entrepreneur packaged up a clear vinyl film with a few crayons and sold them to frazzled Mom’s.  We had one.  The film was pressed onto the screen where we would “color” the test pattern.  The crayon could be wiped off of the vinyl with toilet paper so every day the Indian chief could be a different color.  Of course, you couldn’t get too imaginative because there were only 5 color crayons. 

Memorabilia

 

Digging through a junk drawer I found a collection of old stuff that was once important to me.  Each item has a story, of sorts, and tells a tale about some part of my younger life. 

Take the Cub Scout badges, for instance….I don’t remember what each one was for but I did achieve Webelos which meant that I matriculated to the rank of Tenderfoot in Boy Scouts.  I mostly enjoyed Cub Scouts in spite of the uniform requirement.  It was fun with the exception of going door-to-door selling Clamorama tickets.  I hated that.  I was keen about advancing to Boy Scouts but that turned out to be something that I really wasn’t suited for and, though I wasn’t kicked out, I ended up leaving under a cloud due to actions and circumstances that are disagreed upon by all parties to this very day.  That little square silver box holds the Boy Scout ring that I took off my finger on the day I left.

People were always giving me pocket knives.  I have a ton of them and I can’t recall the who or why on most but that red knife is special.  When I was in the first grade I talked my parents into buying it for me at Sears Roebuck in Wichita.  I couldn’t believe that they actually did it.  Being given stuff that we didn’t need was out of the norm.  Look closely and you will see Roy Rogers and Trigger on it.  Dale didn’t make the cut and if she had I wouldn’t have wanted the knife.  I always thought that she was bogus.  In retrospect so was Roy.  I mean that pair dressed like Liberace.  I broke the end of the large blade off carving my name into our chicken coop.

The green things are Heinz Pickle Pins that were featured during the 1962 Seattle World’s Fair at the Heinz exhibit where you could push a little button and a pin or two dropped into a tray.  There was usually a mob of kids waiting their turn and a Pickle Pin Monitor dressed in a green blazer making sure that each kid only got to push the button once.  I went there one day and there was no mob of kids and no pickle monitor.  Out to lunch I guess so I cranked out a whole lot of those pins because I could trade them for gum, candy, a decent used Duncan Imperial, several packs of strings or cigarettes.  As you can see I only have 9 left.  What do you want to trade me?

That brass tag belonged to our dog, Ace.  It’s his rabies tag from Wichita.  Ace was a good dude and my best and only brother. 

That silver thing “north east” of Ace’s tag is one of those tiny cigarette lighters.  They were highly valued by some kids (including me) and came in gumball-type machines in a little clear round plastic case.  Seems like those machines might have cost $25 a try and I spent a few dollars before I finally got one.  It was really exciting when I finally saw it drop but it was very disappointing as a lighter.  Poor performance, no wind protection, leaked in your pocket and that irritated the skin.  Leakage meant that it was always out of fluid and wouldn’t light, you had a scab on your leg and that you always smelled of lighter fluid and Bactine.

The little knife in the scabbard was something that I purchased in a souvenir shop.  I don’t recall where but probably the Roadside Geyser, Estes Park, The Big Well, who can remember?  Some family vacation someplace.  Originally it had a white plastic pearl handle but I thought it looked a bit wussy so I colored it black with a felt pen. 

 That shiny rectangle is my dog tag from Jesse Chisolm Elementary School in Wichita.  All kids were required to wear them to aid in potential body identification after the Russians dropped the bomb.  Note that it lists religion and blood type in case you were still alive.  I wonder if Atheist was an accepted choice in those days?  We lived in fear.

Boxers (not Briefs)

 

Wichita 1955

Boxers (not Briefs), shorts, tee shirt, bare feet and dirty hands..........Damn!..........there is just no denying your destiny

Father's Day - 2022

 

It’s Father’s Day and if my Dad was still around he would be 109…….but that didn’t happen.  As it is he has been gone for quite some time.  In the photo he is the skinny guy on the left making the anvil ring and learning the family blacksmithing trade from his father, Wallace, who is standing proud, front and center.  

I never knew my Grampa Wallace or Carl Goff and Ed St. Germain, Ford County Kansas locals who are standing in the back.  Hard workers, all and decent men.  If I could talk to them, I would thank them for being part of the village that raised my Dad and for making him the man that he was.  

If I could talk to my Dad again, well that conversation could go on forever because he was so bright and inquisitive, willing to talk to anyone about anything, had a lot to say and was full of brilliant solutions.  My friends liked to come over to hang out and spend time talking to him.  I mean…….Who can say that about their Dads?  He and I have a lot to catch up on.  

For now, I will just say: “Daddy, thanks for being the Father that you were and making me who I am today.  And that hammer of yours in the photo?  I still have it, still use it and think about you every time I make an anvil ring.

Happy Father's Day.

Skills Development

 

Life is a process of observation, exploration, recognition of risks and development of skills.

Choosing to avoid undesirable risks and developing skills to manage those deemed worthwhile.

Discarding what doesn’t work and refining what does.

Celebrating My Big 0-7

 Me and My Crew at My 7th Birthday

Well, mostly crew.  I’ll let you figure out which two didn’t qualify as “Crew” but who my Mom made me invite.  If you haven’t figured it out, I’ll just say that they are the only guys in the photo who were shorter than me and I’m the guy in the middle doing the Gangster Lean.  I bet that right now they are still wearing the same outfits while playing Bingo in a Florida retirement community, but I digress.

Little did I know at the time that a health crisis was unfolding in one of their homes and that my birthday party was providing a much-needed respite from worry.  You see, the non-crew attendee’s older brother was suffering from an affliction and the ultimate outcome was in the balance. 

Dishmaster M48

 

Now before you get caught up in my home-made shirt with defunct railroad logos, my striped socks and two-toned shoes or my belt with the pearl-handled revolver I want you to take a look around this kitchen for a minute.  There are some classic examples of 1950’s Americana on display. 

Let’s start in the upper-left corner with the metal wall-hung match dispenser.  Designed to hold a whole box of wooden matches its front tray allowed easy access to one match at a time while a side slot exposed the striking emery of the matchbox.  That kitchen accessory was critical in order for you to light the oven or stove-top burners.  Yep, when it came time to thaw and heat up that scrumptious frozen asparagus you had to be able to light the stove.  

Directly below that you can see the wall-mounted Swing Away can opener that came onto the market in 1938.  The Swing Away and its imitators were the height of kitchen convenience plus the sign of a discerning and thoroughly modern cook.  As I recall there was a Swing Away in every house my parents lived in.  In spite of the fact that the Swing Away had been on the market for 17 years my Dad must have felt that they were not to be trusted as his belt-and-suspenders approach to life required that a time-tested manual “butterfly style” hang beneath it in reserve.  Time-tested indeed as that butterfly is the basis of most can openers today and is my go-to whenever access to the contents of a can is needed at my house.

Observe the set of shiny metal kitchen canisters nestled in the corner.  White cannisters with a tasteful daisy design topped with yellow lids.  Very attractive in 1955 and pretty embarrassing for me to admit that I still have one of those in my garage that is used to store wire connectors.  My God!  That thing has followed me for at least 65 years. 

Above the sink is a lovely round mirror with a tasteful design around the outside edge.  I’m not sure if the design is a poor attempt at Maple leaves or English Ivy.  English Ivy is an invasive species throughout North America, though, so let’s go for Maple leaves as that wouldn’t depict us as such environmental rubes.  Either way it is a pretty ugly mirror and is mounted in an odd place. 

The cheese grater confuses me.  I mean, I have one of those things in a kitchen drawer that still gets used.  What confuses me is that we never ate any cheese other than Velveeta back then and do you even grate Velveeta of just carve a slab off and melt it?  Since it is made of whey protein concentrate, milk protein concentrate, fat and preservatives the FDA forced Kraft to change its label from “cheese spread” to “cheese product”.  Yuck!

The real piece de resistance is the Mansville Dishmaster Model M48 faucet set with brush.  Dishmaster is still selling a similar.  Those faucets were sold door-to-door and that one went for $49.50 in the early 1950’s.  An exorbitant amount of money at the time and heavily marketed as the perfect Mother’s Day or Christmas gift for the busy housewife.  My Mother must have felt like a queen washing dishes with that. 

OK.  Now about my belt.  I wore that belt all the time and I don’t recall ever needing it to hold my pants up.  The shiny pearl handled revolver buckle made me feel pretty special and every morning that I woke up and buckled that belt was a gift.  It was a sad day when I outgrew it.  Interesting that I still have that damned thing.  It ain’t shiny anymore and the pearl handle is gone.

I sure wish I had a pair of those two-toned shoes that fit me.  Imagine the figure I would cut today grocery shopping while wearing those shoes and socks, shorts, my “Old Guys Rule” t-shirt and a surgical mask.  I’m pretty sure that Jean would have the locks changed while I was gone. 

 

Package Grab

  

On the eve of my birthday I thought I would share a photo with you of me celebrating my 3rd trip around the sun in the public housing authority projects of Planeview, Kansas where I openly wore my “gun outside my pants; for all the honest world to feel” while perfecting the “package grab” that I would eventually teach to Marshawn Lynch to use on his signature end zone dives with the Seattle Seahawks.

 

That’s right.  I taught him that.  Oh yeah, I’m bad.  Uh huh!  Uh huh!