History Adventuring

In a long life I've loved many people. And if your first thought is "Yikes! Is this blog no longer "G" rated?", relax, it is. I want to talk about how the word love has changed in common usage in fairly recent history. And yes, my choice of words was intentionally ambiguous at the beginning of this post, and since you seem to be worried about it, here ya go: I'm an ordinary garden-variety straight guy who has been romantically involved from the very first time that a girl ever returned the sentiment, which has been a long time now. There. Now if you'll bear with me, I want to talk about love. I will have to choose my words carefully here, because I have no intention of being vulgar, and since so many terms have gone from being euphemisms to vulgarities, I promise to be careful. When in doubt I'll give you a smile and a wink, if you know what I mean (and I think you do). And the first thing I want to talk about is making love. As someone who likes old

It's 1941, and we're in Manhattan, New York, New York. Specifically at the corner of 7th Avenue and 45th Street. I found this photo on the Duke University site ROAD (Resource of Outdoor Advertising Descriptions), which specializes in the study of historic advertising. I specialize in time-traveling, just for fun. Come on! The buildings on the left are along Broadway, and in this imaginary story, we're standing there on the corner near the Theater that's showing "Lydia". That's me, in the topcoat, bowtie, and Homberg. You can either be the young woman getting ready to cross 7th Avenue, or the man next to me, who seems to be a lot more confident than me. Darn! I seem to have left my iPhone back in the 21st Century! I usually carry it in this pocket. Well, I guess it wouldn't work in 1941, anyway - I don't see any cell phone towers, and besides I forgot to bring my charger. Let's take a look at Broadway. Looks like the Gaiety is showing  "Cha

Time-travel with me to Jamaica in the 1950s. It could be the 1960s, it just depends on if I survive, and how old I was when I was given the license to kill by Her Majesty's Secret Service. I'm James Bond. This character has fascinated me since I discovered him when I was fourteen or fifteen years old. A friend of mine invited me along to see the latest movie, and I liked it so much that I decided that I would enjoy reading the books (I've always been a nerdy, bookish, person). Now calm down there if you think that I'm one of those people who insists that the books are better than the movies - I love them both. But the books helped explain the character in a way that the movies never did. And every once in a while in the movies you see Bond walking on a beach in Jamaica, and it reminds me of his original point of view, which wasn't all that different from a lot of people who do dangerous and dirty jobs - Bond looked forward to retiring. And I don't mean at 65, hi

I get a big kick out of perusing the images on the Duke University ROAD (Resource of Outdoor Advertising Descriptions) site, especially when I find a photo that I want to step into, like this one, of Broadway at 42nd Street in Manhattan, New York, New York. I'm going to suggest that we take the streetcar. There are plenty! I've decided that I want to be the man on the left, and you, if female, can choose to be with me (dressed in black), or if male one of the guys standing there waiting to get on the trolley. Just as long as we're all wearing hats! By the way, if you want to know how I know that it's 1909, it's because the date changes every year for the Follies. Maybe we should go? Waitaminute, looky there - it's one of those horseless carriages over there, which are becoming more popular all the time. I wouldn't mind going for a ride in one of those things someday! While we're waiting to get on the streetcar, let's take a look at the ads. Have you

I always did well in school, and occasionally I learned a few things, but most of what they asked me to memorize and later repeat I've forgotten. And that's just the nature of school - it needs to have tangible things that can be measured, and creating a test that asks "When was the war of 1812 fought?" allows for this. And that's why a history class in school is really just a series of things that students are asked to memorize until a test, and really nothing more. For people like me, it can spark an interest, but those people are rare, and considered weird. I wanted to learn more, and after all these years I'm still working on it. History fascinates me, and to my surprise I'm also interested in anthropology. I had to go look up the definition to be sure, and here it is: The study of human beings and their ancestors through time and space and in relation to physical character, environmental and social relations, and culture. It's a huge subject, and

I'm a man who likes women. And not only for the reason that I'm sure springs to your mind, but also because they're just wonderful. I knew a lot of women in Los Angeles in the 1980s, and I'm sure that there are still a lot there, and have been for many, many generations. But since the '80s are all I know, because that's when I lived there, that's what I want to talk about today. If you're interested in meeting women, I recommend that you go to a big city, any big city. Women tend to appreciate civilization, and big cities have that. Of course, if you're interested in meeting men you may want to go where there's less civilization. And the numbers were very much against women when I lived in LA in the 1980s. It seemed like the town was just bursting with gorgeous, wonderful women, and it was. And as far as I can tell, it's been like that for a very long time - Jan and Dean sang about it in the 1960s in the song "Surf City" by saying t

Let's time-travel back to the 1960s, and go to Bimbo's Pizza. This imaginary adventure is based on a photo that I found on the Duke University site ROAD (Resource of Outdoor Advertising Descriptions). They're interested in historic advertising, I'm interested in pizza. This is on Scottsdale Road near Thomas, by the way. We're staying at the Royal Inn Motel. Don't worry about the expense, we have 21st Century money because we're time-travelers, so everything will be very cheap. But before we go to Bimbo's to get pizza, I'm going to recommend that you get a haircut at Ron's. Maybe we can go look at real estate prices at Woody's, too. How about going over to Smith's Butcher Shop? I'm not sure what the sign means - open Sundays, but luckily it's Sunday, so they must be open. Good thing we didn't want to go there tomorrow! What? Oh, now I understand. I wonder how their cube steaks are? And their sirloins? Here we are at Bimbo's

Yesterday, which was Christmas morning, I did something that I've been doing for years and years, which is to go visit empty parking lots. I enjoy the quiet of it, and it always gives me food for thought, and today I'm imagining the future of places like Phoenix, and Los Angeles, which is where this kid from Minneapolis first saw these gigantic, sprawling parking lots. I'm sure that when these gigantic parking lots started appearing, it was wonderful for people who wanted to be sure that they could find a parking spot, and here in the Phoenix area we just take that for granted. I moved here from LA in 1989, and I've never, ever, had a problem finding a parking spot, even if I have to walk quite a bit to the store. It wasn't true in Los Angeles, where it seemed that no matter how big the parking lots were, they were jammed full, and sometimes I would drive around, and find no place to park, and just have to go back to my apartment (where I was glad to have a parking

When I moved to Phoenix, in the '70s as a teenager, I didn't pay much attention to liquor stores. I hadn't paid much attention to them as a kid in Minnesota, either, and the fact that there was a drive-in liquor store near where I lived didn't impress me at all. By the way, the pic at the top of this post, which is from the Duke University site, is from the 1960s, and is at 40th Street and Indian School Road, in Phoenix. The city of Phoenix grew up with cars, so it's not surprising that there were a lot of drive-ins, including theaters, restaurants, and even churches. Phoenicians like their cars, and can you blame them? The temperatures get into the 100s in the summer, and being out in those wide open spaces with the sun burning down on you is very unpleasant, I know. I drove a car that broke down a lot, and I did a fair amount of walking. OK, let's see, we're time-traveling to the 1960s in Phoenix, Arizona, and you mentioned that you wanted to pick up some

Let's time-travel back to 1950 and look for the Casa Lido, in Trenton, New Jersey. I'm pretty sure that there's a big sign pointing the way! Yep, there's the sign. All we have to do is to get off the bus here on Warren, and walk a block. It's not that far, and we can get something to eat, and pick up some liquor. Wow! Look at that beauty there! Not sure what year it is, or the make, but I like it. And I also like the little beauty there on the corner in front of the Famous Maid Shop. Let's get out. By the way, if you're wondering where I found this photo, it's on the Duke University site ROAD (Resource of Outdoor Advertising Descriptions). They're interested in advertising, but I'm interested in just looking around in 1950. Let's see now, which way to this place? Oh yeah, follow the arrow. That's a big hand-painted sign, I wonder how much it cost for them to do that? Well, never mind, let's go, and enjoy the air conditioning. Isn'

Christmas is a tough time to be away from home, no matter what the circumstances. When the song "White Christmas" became popular, it spoke volumes to men who were away from home fighting in World War II. I'm sure you've heard the song, but if you haven't, this is how it goes: I'm dreaming of a white Christmas Just like the ones I used to know. Where the treetops glisten, And children listen, To hear sleigh bells in the snow. And it was just another Christmas song to me until I found myself spending Christmases alone, in Phoenix, and in Los Angeles. And it was especially in LA that it hit me, when I heard the entire lyrics for the first time, and then I would wait to hear them again on the radio. I suppose that I could have bought a recording of it, but it never occurred to me, and besides it was only at Christmastime that I wanted to hear it. And it was a revelation to me, and it changed how I saw things, because I could feel the hurt in the original lyrics th

It's 1939, and I'm walking over to Sam's Pool Hall at Willow and Spring Streets in Trenton, New Jersey. This image is from the Duke University site, which focuses on historic advertising, but I'm just interested in time-traveling. Today I'm going to be "New Jersey Slim." That's me there in the vest. No, that's not my car. Maybe someday! Since this is an imaginary story, I'm just a poor boy from Mississippi who is trying to make his way. My pappy taught me how to play pool, and he also taught me not to stay in one town for too long. I'm not a hustler, but I make my way with my cue, and I'm good. Real good. By the way, just for the record, we're looking north on Willow. Everything has changed nowadays, of course, but that wall over there on the right is still there. Wow, look at those cars! Where was I? Oh yeah, heading over to Sam's. Looks like there might be rooms to rent above the pool hall. I'll ask while I'm in there.

Something that puzzles people in Los Angeles, and also in Phoenix, is that these cities were built along a river. And if riverboats spring to mind, you have to realize that both of these cities are desert cities (Phoenix is hotter, but Los Angeles is actually drier). And so when you see the word "river" on a map of Los Angeles or Phoenix, they're not really rivers, not like the rivers that I remember growing up in Minnesota, with water in it all of the time, like the Mississippi. They're washes. If you're not familiar with desert washes, they're places that flow with water after it rains, or after snow melts up in the mountains, and then they dry up in the summer, and spend most of their time kinda muddy and stagnant. When Phoenix and Los Angeles were very small, there was enough water for people to use, with care, including plenty of groundwater for wells. But desert washes can be dangerous, and Phoenix has dealt with having a sudden increase of water flow by

It's 1942, and we're in Trenton, New Jersey. This view, which I found on the Duke University site ROAD (Resource of Outdoor Advertising Descriptions) is looking southwest on Hamilton at Olden Avenue. Let's look around! The first thing that caught my eye is the liquor store that just says, "Liquor Store". Not "discount liquor", or "Al's liquor", nothing. And if the date is correct, and I have no reason to doubt the nice people at Duke, and it's 1942, my best guess is that young man there (who isn't helping the ladies with the perambulator) isn't old enough for military service, or maybe hasn't been called yet. Over the next few years men of military age would virtually disappear from America, and the only people you would see would be the very young, the very old, and women. Let's take a closer look at some of the cars. If you see one that disproves the date on this photo, please let me know - they look OK to me, maybe la

Time-travel with me, and let's walk to Bestman's Restaurant in Margate City, New Jersey, in 1947. I found this photo on the Duke University site ROAD (Resource of Outdoor Advertising Descriptions), and identified the location by looking at the street signs and Googling them. In this journey of imagination I'm walking inland from the beach on Coolidge Avenue and I'm getting ready to cross Ventnor. I've been for a swim, and now I'm hungry, so I'm going to follow the sign. Traffic is light, and it's only going twenty miles an hour, so I'll be fine even though I'm barefoot. And by the way, for those of you who are reading this in the 21st Century, the building right behind my head is still there. There isn't a light, or a crosswalk, but this is 1947, and I know that the cars will stop for me. I wonder what they serve at Bestman's? I'm hungry after my swim! I sure hope that they don't have a sign that says, "No shirt, no shoes, no