History Adventuring

This imaginary journey is inspired by a photo that my top history adventurer shared with me recently. At first glance it didn't look like much, but the more I learned about it the more fascinated I became with the idea of stepping into it. Let's go to Phoenix in 1949, and buy a radio. This is Washington at 7th Avenue, and we're looking northeast. The building right there behind the bus is the old Consolidated Motors, and where the sign says "Motorola" is Consolidated Radio Sales. We can stop at the Safeway later on. Since it's 1949, the street cars are gone, as you can tell because the wires are gone, but the tracks are still there, waiting to be paved over. The buses have taken the job over, and they're much newer, more comfortable, and most people prefer them. In the future, street cars will gain popularity as nostalgia, but in 1949 the bus feels real good, soft cushioned seats, rubber tires, and at some point air conditioning! But let's get back to

If you’re a true baby boomer, you know what it was like to feel that the world might come to an end at any instant with nuclear war in the 1950s and 60s. And since I was born in 1958, and I fall into the category of "Baby Boomer", I'm discovering that there was a subtle change that happened around the time I went to grade school, and high school in the '60s and '70s. I don't know what your experience was, but I never did any of the preparation stuff for a nuclear war, like "duck and cover" - which from what I understand was something that children were taught to get underneath their desks in the event of a nuclear attack. I do recall grownups talking about the threat of the end of the world from nuclear attacks, but apparently it never really affected me. My attitude was more like what I read in "Mad Magazine" - which was to just "kiss your __ goodbye!" What, me worry? That someone, somewhere, could push a button and cause ICBMs (

I've lived in Phoenix for a long time, and when I hear someone mention the Coliseum, I think of the building on the fairgrounds, you know, the "Madhouse on McDowell". But there was another Coliseum in Phoenix, which was at 1st Street and Monroe, and since I found this 1909 ad, I thought it would be fun if we would time-travel back there and take in a show. I found this ad on the Library of Congress site, and the date is October 25, 1909. Note that there's no address given, because in 1909 Phoenix wasn't very big - and everyone knew where the Coliseum was. Especially people who liked Vaudeville! I'm familiar with the term Vaudeville, but of course it's way before my time, so I'll find us a definition. Hang on a sec. Here we go: " a type of entertainment popular chiefly in the US in the early 20th century, featuring a mixture of specialty acts such as burlesque comedy and song and dance." I'm up for it, let's go! According to the ad, th

All my life I've lived alongside of people who believe in miracles, and the longer I live, the more miracles I see. The sun came up this morning, which is as great a miracle as I can imagine, and in July of this year the lady who works at the counter at the QT where I get my coffee every morning will be having a baby, which of course is a miracle. Miracles like this have happened all through history, and will continue. And if you're beginning to wonder what exactly a miracle is, well, it depends on the interpretation of a particular individual. And since the people that I see out on my rides every morning have always tended to agree with me that miracles happen every day, it does seem to beg the question as to what, exactly, is a miracle? And it's like everything else, it varies from what most people would consider commonplace (like a baby being born, which is happening at an astounding rate even as I type this), or the sun coming up on planet earth, which has happened for

Something that you'll hear over and over in history is that people don't want to work anymore. It's similar to "children don't respect their elders anymore", and it's as true now as it's ever been. So if someone says that nobody wants to work anymore, or that children don't respect their elders anymore, it really true - the "anymore" seems to imply that it's something new, but it's not. Anyone who has ever had a job knows that it has to be paid. Of course there are people who volunteer, and help others of their own volition, but most people need money in order to buy food, pay rent, etc., and so that attitude is a secondary motivation to get out there and work. And to understand this, you have to understand motivation. And it's the same motivation that teaches kids to show some respect for their elders, there's a reward. I'm an old marketing guy, and I learned a long time ago that it's important to look at what peo

Let's time-travel back to 1948 and go to Trenton, New Jersey. I found this photo on the Duke University site ROAD (Resource of Outdoor Advertising Descriptions), and although I've never been there IRL (In Real Life), I'd like to visit there today in my imagination. I'll see if I can give a good description as we go driving by. You're on Broad looking north towards Harding, by the way. I'd love to be some kind of expert here, but I'm not, so I'll just say that as I drive past Meszaros Brothers Meat Market, I have to say that I have no idea what "home dressed" means as it pertains to pork products, beef, veal, and lamb. Since I live in the 21st Century, all I know is that some things are gluten-free, but I don't think that's it. I suppose I could ask the signmaker, J. Tick, but I don't know where they are. And what do you suppose they sell at the Quaker Store? I'll zoom in a little bit more and you can see if you can tell. Here ya

Today I'd like to time-travel back to Phoenix in the 1940s, and work at the Phoenix Auto Supply machine shop. And yes, this is just a journey of imagination, I wasn't alive in the 1940s, and I sure wouldn't know the first thing about working in a machine shop. But I thought it would be fun to look around. For this story, I'm a young veteran of World War II. I'm working on something, not exactly sure what I'm doing - if you know can you tell me? Maybe I'm adjusting some muffler bearings? That's you in the background. At least you get to sit down! Maybe you're the boss? By the way, the Phoenix Auto Supply was at 3rd Avenue and Van Buren, not far from the place called "the Van Buren" is today. You can read the numbers backwards in the window there. The building across the street, with the bicycles, is Firestone. Gas is seventeen cents a gallon. Not bad! This building is long-gone, and is just a parking lot now, but imagine how cool it would be

If you're a fan of vintage British sports cars, you've probably heard of a Jensen-Healey. No, I don't mean an Austin-Healey, although they're related. I mean a British sports car that used the Lotus 907 engine. And of course you know about Lotus, right? And it was the 907 engine that got me to Santa Barbara, but not the way that you think - I never had a Jensen, or a Lotus, I had a Midget. Time-travel with me back to 1977, when I had just moved to Phoenix at age 19, in a 1965 MG Midget that was held together with scotch tape, baling wire, and bubble gum. And it was always in need of repairs! Back then there were a lot of British cars on the road, and all you had to do was to look for a building that had a Union Jack painted on it. You know, the British flag. These shops tended to do all British cars, except of course Rolls Royce, and they would often turn away Jaguars. And the shop that I had found was fairly new, and their goal was to be a repair shop that specialized

All my life (which has now spanned over six decades) I've lived alongside of people who have been waiting for the end of the world, or Armageddon, or whatever they call it. And actually, to be fair, they're waiting for the end of the world as they know it, because the world will keep on spinning for a very long time no matter what happens on its surface. Ask the dinosaurs! Oh yeah, that's right, you can't, they're gone. And my nerdy brain, along with my silly sense of humor, has made me not only tolerant of people who are waiting for the end, I'm actually entertained by them, and I love them. If you're one of those people, don't worry, I won't try to discourage you, because I know that it will just make you angry - and I don't want anyone to get angry! You're fine. Since I enjoy time-traveling, I like to go back to the year 1000, when a lot of people imagined that the world would end. They sold off their earthly belongings, and went and sat o

When Edgar Rice Burroughs created the character of Tarzan, in 1912, he was creating what we would now call a fantasy superhero. And I learned a long time ago to not look too critically at these characters, because they weren't supposed to be real - that's what fantasy is all about, the're an escape from reality. But of course as a nerdy kid I had a lot of questions, and it wasn't until I was a teenager, and started reading the books that I realized that many of the questions were answered - including why Tarzan didn't have a beard. First of all, let's be clear, the character was meant to be Anglo-Saxon, like me. I realize that some men in the world don't grow beards, but my people do - sometimes straggly, but beards. Speaking for myself, even when I gave myself a close shave in the morning, I always had stubble by the evening, or the afternoon. That used to be called "5 O'Clock Shadow" in the old ads, by the way, and wasn't considered attra

I was looking through the Duke University site ROAD (Resource of Outdoor Advertising Descriptions), and stumbled on a series of ads for Jantzen swimwear, from various eras. This one is labelled 1929, and seems to be a fair indication of what men and women wore to the beach. Or at least I think so? Let's take a closer look. Since I'm a man, I'll start by taking a look at what I would be wearing, which looks from the front to seem just like a tank top, but cut out at the sides. So the girls could see the side of my ribcage I guess. And a lot of leg! From the back is where it gets weird for me. Speaking for myself, I'd really rather not get those suntan lines on my shoulders, if you know what I mean (and I think you do). But let's look at the ladies. From the front, both men and women's swimwear looks very similar. The backs really aren't that much different, either if you ask me. Of course, this was just an illustration, and I doubt that women really wore heel

If you've ever wondered what people used to look like, way back when, you've probably looked at old movies, or old ads, or old magazines. And just like today, it's difficult to know what "average" people look like. I was looking through the Duke University site yesterday, which specializes in old advertising, and I stumbled into a series of swimsuit ads from the late forties/early fifties, and it's a reminder that in a long life most of the people I've known IRL (In Real Life) really didn't look like the people that you see in old movies, old ads, or old magazines (and I can remember all of the way back to the early sixties!). You could, of course, say that it's all a big conspiracy to make us feel bad about ourselves, but as an old advertising guy I'll tell you it just has to do with how to perceive ourselves. And while that couple that you may have seen down by the pool last week may not have looked like the models in the illustration at the

In a long life that spans over six decades now, something that I've never seen is a young man smoking a pipe. Pipes were still around when I was a kid, in the 1960s, but only old men used them. And this has started to puzzle me. The ad at the top of this post, by the way, is from the Duke University site ROAD (Resource of Outdoor Advertising Descriptions) and while their interest is historic advertising, mine is time-traveling. And usually I find that things remain pretty much the same, generation after generation, with only subtle changes like where people part their hair, how far up they wear their pants, that sort of thing. But tobacco use goes way back. And I mean way, way back because Native Americans were using it, in pipes, long before Europeans tried it, and liked it. In pipes, of course. I've never used tobacco, but I know a lot of people who have, and most of them, born in the 20th Century, used it in premade rolled-up packages called "cigarettes". Cigarette

My first memories of beginning to understand money was when I had a paper route. Of course I had handled money before that, because my parents gave me money sometimes, and when I helped my older brother with his paper route, he would give me money. I distinctly recall writing "25 cents" on the calendar for the days that I helped. In a long life I've learned about money, and as a nerdy kid (which I still am) I wanted to understand it as a concept. About the time I got to college I figured that all grownups knew this stuff, and it wasn't until much later that I realized that they don't, and can do just fine without knowing it. Of course in 1968, when I was ten, the only thing that was money was cash. That is, coins and folding money (pictures of Presidents). My mom had a checking account, which was quite mysterious to me, and when I collected the money for my paper route I would give it to her and she would write a check and mail it to the Minneapolis Star and Tribu

I've lived in the United States all of my life, which spans over six decades now (!) and while I can't speak for everywhere in the country, I can tell you about the interracial couples that I knew in Minneapolis, and Los Angeles, in the 1970s, and '80s. As a nerdy kid, I knew early in life that the concept of race is just made up, and has no basis in biology. I've never dated outside of my race, that is, the human race, but I know that a lot of people see things differently, and I've grown wise enough to respect that. In the 1970s, when I was in high school, I saw a lot of interracial couples, usually black guys and white girls. I realize that the demographics of Minneapolis has changed a lot since then, but other than a random Asian person or two, and maybe someone who seemed a bit Hispanic, the world that I lived in was black and white. Things were changing, but the old folks usually raised an eyebrow at interracial couples, if not ranting about it in a very open

It's 1923, and it's a nice day for a drive, so I thought that we could take my Autocar to Trenton, New Jersey. This photo, by the way, is on the Duke University site ROAD (Resource of Outdoor Advertising Descriptions) because they study historic advertising, but I'm only interested in time-traveling. Ride along with me! You can have your ordinary Buick, or Cadillac, I'll take my Autocar! And it looks like there's a place in Trenton that services them. I think I'll get some new tires, maybe a battery. Let's see, they're at Canal Street at State. And they're always open, which is handy! Maybe we should stop at that Sunoco station and get some gas before we go any further. How much money do you have? A quarter? Yeah, that should be enough for now. The trusty Autocar is running just fine, and it'll be even better after the service at Brock's! 1921 Autocar If you like pictures of old-time Phoenix, please become a member of History Adventuring on

My grandfather, on my maternal side, was born in Italy, yet he's buried in a racially-restricted cemetery, which may have something to do with his status in the community, or the fact that it was much later than when the cemeteries were designated that way, where he lived, in northern Minnesota. And, unless you're interested in how the concept of race changes in history, you may be wondering if he was Black, or Jewish. Nah, he was just Italian. He came to America when he was a kid, worked his way out to Michigan as a lumberjack, worked in the mines, met a lovely French-Canadian girl (my grandmother), married her, and the story that I've always liked is that for her he became a Presbyterian, and for him she learned to cook spaghetti. Of course, biologically there's only one race, the human race, but for about as long as there have been people, they've divided themselves up into groups, so that they can hate. I know that I won't live long enough to see the end of

It's February of 2022, and since I enjoy TikTok (mostly the videos of happy dogs), I still see posts about people who have died from COVID-19. And the pattern is always the same - the videos start with screencaptures of the person's statements about why they're choosing not to get the vaccine, and it ends with their death. And the presenter inevitably says something like "What a waste", and I can tell that they're missing the point. I'll see if I can explain, using an historical context. Being willing to die to stand by a belief system isn't anything new. And a belief system is something that isn't tangible, and can often look like nonsense to a non-believer. Most of the people I've ever known have had some type of belief system, or faith. To me, I find it unnecessary to believe in things that can't be proven empirically, but that's just me. Of course, I'm not alone in this, but I'm definitely in the minority. Most people hold b