Sad Day for a Memory

I get the email version of the "Big City" newspaper, that everyone in my small hometown had delivered.    I was so sad today, to see that the football coach from my high school days had  passed away in Florida.  His wife was an English teacher during my Freshman year and she also was the drama coach my Senior year.  With his leadership, we has a good football team all four years I was in high school.  She was my favorite teacher.  Needless to say, I am feeling a little melancholy about this. 

I have posted about spritzing on the Ambush cologne and  wearing my currant date's  red and black, leather and wool, varsity jacket to those football games.  A bunch of us girls would wait in the parking lot, after the games, for our certain guy to come out of the showers , dressed in chinos/slacks and a sweater, smelling like Jade East or Canoe.  Mostly, they won, thanks to Coach Samec's tough couching, because that ride afterwards was no fun if they lost.  And, if they lost, they wouldn't want to stay for the dances which was pretty high on our social life calendar.

One of my most vivid memories of him was how mad he got that some dumb girl had made a poster for a dance featuring the football players during a game,  with a thought bubble over one of them saying, " I can't wait until this game is over so I can go to the dance.".... He was livid. That is not what his players should be thinking.   He kept the team at practice longer because of it.  That poster had been made by the Captain of the football team's girlfriend...ME.  oops......

I'm in the middle with the long hair.  The Queen was the blond, second from the right.  All of the rest of us were close friends and hoped she would get it and she did.  

It rained buckets that night so all the work on the floats was for nothing. They stayed in the barns.   There was no Homecoming parade. No "Beauty Queen" waves from the back of a convertible.  We did walk out onto the field and became drowned rats for the dance following the game.

There I am in the back, left, holding the "Spirit Wand" that the Seniors had won at the Pep Rally for having the most spirit.  Such innocent times.  My whole high school only had and still does have about 500 students. Total.  My class graduated the smallest number from that school, which was built to replace the two story 1920's version, and opened the year before my Freshman year.   We had a very spirited 76 students in that class.  

This time brings to mind,  "going steady" with your boyfriend's class ring held on with a mound of adhesive tape under it or rubber bands twisted around the top.  Of dress codes, study halls and being asked out on dates at least by Wednesday for a Friday or Saturday night.

About 4 years ago, I was working in one of my retail jobs and Jayne saw me, came over and told me she knew who I was.  I had not a clue it was her.  Believe me, I do not look like this 17 year old, long haired teenager anymore.  She still knew me.  She said "I was one of your teachers."  Then, I knew.   Then it clicked.  I was so glad she approached me.

So Coach and Mrs. S., thanks for the memories. 

Long Live Hair Pieces

I had to join in the fun of posting my fake hair experience too.  Kathy, from Reflections by Kathy (see her button on my page) posted about wearing wigs in the 1970s.  My hair fad came in 1968, when I was Senior in high school.  There were not many that were that brave, but enough, that I had to join in.  I think this picture was about 1970.  It looks like I was going for a Mrs. Daniel Boone look-a-like, but that really was unintended.

That dress touched the ground, but under it were lace up knee high "granny boots".  My remember they made my feet stink horribly so once those babies were on, they stayed on. My own hair was wrapped into a big pinned bun on top of my head and this mass of curls was then dug into the bun by attached combs.  Yes, by the end of the day, I had a headache.  Another case of suffering for vanity.

I went to wig styling classes to learn how to do that.  Those curls took forever to do too.

After I had cut my hair, I also had a smaller hairpiece that just perched on the back part of the crown of my head  to add height.  It pretty much blended in. Then they were gone.  Another fashion fad hit the dust.  I'm surprised they never made another appearance.  They could have done well in all that big 80's hair.

I had that dress for years.  After I had children, it was stuffed and became the body of a witch for Halloween, on my front porch.  Minus the boots.  I think they had to be burned.

What happened to "Company"?

Where did the Company go?

When I was growing up, we had company.  That meant the parents, probably Mom, invited another couple with children, over to our house, for either dinner or an evening playing cards. 

Company started with Sunday dinner company.  That generally consisted of either fried chicken or pot roast with vegetables.  Mom was not an inventive cook.  She  had a couple of "go to"  Sunday dinners and that was it.  My SIL, on the other hand,  is a fantastic cook.  She makes the most mouth watering pies, cakes and pizza you have ever dreamed of tasting.  Then she will post a picture of them on Facebook.  You can smell the lucsiousness of them through your monitor.  A few days ago she mentioned she was in the mood for banana pudding.  That brought back such memories of those Sunday dinners.  On one occasion, Mom had made banana pudding for dessert for her best friend's family.  The oldest daughter was just a year younger than me, so then, about 12.  She walked into the kitchen, in time to see Mom bring the big bowl to the table and asked, " Is that garbage?"  Her mother was mortified.  She evidently did not have any southern cooks in her family.

The other company times were the card players.  There must have been a Black Jack/poker phase during the 1960s because my parents were not really game players, but they could play cards for hours.  In the earlier years I know Mom mentioned playing Rook, but I don't remember that. I do remember being 11, 12,  or so and laying in the big bed I shared with my sister, counting the "company" man's swear words.  My parents did not curse, so this was a big deal.  By today's standards, they were mild words, a damn or a shit here and there, but to us, they were countable words.

It was much better to have the card players at your house than to be the "Company" yourself. .  That meant a night of  trying to sleep in a strange bed and then getting woken up to be walked out in the cold, to a warmed up car, and driving home.  Of course you were asleep in the car, and again, had to wake up to go into the house and crawl into your cold bed.  I hated that.

On these game nights, I vaguely remember the men drinking beer, but not the women.  In those years, there may have been a rare bottle of Mogen David in the refrigerator, for a special occasion, but nothing else.  It was just unsweet tea or pop/soda and chips

I think women working stopped most of the "company".  Mom started working when I was 14.  After that I don't think there was company anymore.  We had the misfortune of not having any relatives close.  We were in Michigan and all the relatives were in Missouri and Arkansas.  I'm sure that made a big difference. No going to Grandma's or Aunts and Uncles or having them come to our house. So, with no company, there wasn't anyone.

As an adult, I was were able to do the Sunday dinner more with my sister and brother when our children were little.  When they became "Tweeners"  and older, even that stopped. The gatherings became only a holiday thing and after a time, organizing that became impossible with children becoming adults with commitments.

Those in between years, before the children grew up, and I was working, there was no time for company for dinner.  Many years I worked retail so I valued my free Sunday with my family.  Even when I wasn't in retail, I was tired darn it.  I didn't want to cook for company on the weekend.  I guess everyone else felt the same because we didn't get invited to friend's houses either.  My BFF and I tried a family dinner here and there, but we both just let it go.  She was tired too.

In all of this, I do not count family as "company".  To me, there seems to be a difference.  Cooking for family was familiar.  It didn't require anything special.  It could be special, and often was, but it wasn't necessary.  Family is about being together first and the food was second.  Maybe I was having company and being company all along and didn't know it, but I think it was one of the things that went away like Gidget and Moondoggie.

Thank You Gladys Horton

I learned this afternoon about the passing of another boomer.  Ms. Gladys Horton was the founding member of the marvelous Marvelettes.  She sang lead on  "Please, Mr. Postman" and brought us to our dancing feet.
     

By BRIAN McCOLLUM
Detroit Free Press Pop Music Writer

Gladys Horton, the Detroit native whose voice led such Marvelettes hits as "Please Mr. Postman" and "Beechwood 4-5789," died late Wednesday at a nursing home in Sherman Oaks, Calif. She was 66.
"My mother died peacefully," Horton's son, Vaughn Thornton, said in a statement issued this morning by the Motown Alumni Association. "She fought as long as she could."

Like so many other Motown artists, she was only a teenager when her career began.  She is 17 here, singing "Mr. Postman."  Thank you for sharing your talent.

A Good Day For Cruisin'

I had started a post this morning but stopped to run to the post office to mail another care package to my 2 Lansing, Mi. daughters.  The care packages started when Daughter #1 was in college and I wanted to keep in touch.  That was many years ago and the care packages still go out... but, I digress.  Good Lord, it is beautiful out there.

We had snow over last weekend.  A big snow for down here in Carolina Coast Country.  The news said about 7 inches. Being from Michigan, I don't want to see snow.  I moved away from snow.  I visited snow at Christmas, but I do  not want to live in snow.

Today is 60 degrees!  Oh, yes!!  I had the car windows down, arm out the window, fresh air blowing through... I was cruisin'.  I was reminded so much of my teen springs when the kids hit the road to Chesaning to cruise town.  My own town only had one traffic light.  The police once stopped my sister because she had gotten a new car and the officer didn't recognize her in it.   No one cruised on their home turf. Everyone knew everyone all ready. No "cool" guys were left.  You had to go to the next town to find coolness.  Of course.

Being a girl, I gave little thought to the fact that I was driving Daddy's car.  Of course I didn't have my own car.  Guys had cars.  Usually the girls didn't.  I had two things going for me though. My father is a "car guy".  I had learned from my mother, that when you shop for clothes, the more you try on the more she'd buy.  I figured that might work for automobiles too.  So I went car shopping with my father when he was in the market for a new vehicle.  I was lucky enough to have talked him into a Dodge Charger...gold and white, with dual exhausts. ( Just imagine the red one as gold )   It rumbled..it roared.. totally cool.

  My mother was not pleased.  Along with that, my best friend's father had bought her, for her 16th Birthday a 1965 Thunderbird. Oh yeah!!  Did it help? Not a bit.  Did we have fun?  You bet.

We would grab a car load of girls and cruise on over to Chesaning, where we would drive though town, about a mile out to the A&W and black again.  The windows would be down and the radio would be blasting "California Dreaming, Brown Eyed Girl, Good Vibrations and of course, "She'll have fun, fun, fun, 'til Daddy takes her T-bird away".

The whole purpose of the drive was to meet boys! Of course... Just to get a phone number.  The cars of guys, and it should be their own car,   (a little double standard going on there.)  would follow you, cruise by you and then you may pick up another car of male cruisers.  All to get a phone number.  I can honestly say, I never did.  I never dated someone from another town.  Darn.....  but I had a great time cruisn' on those warm spring days.  It was the total experience of the freedom we had, the music and the hope of catching the big one.  In this case, the fun was all about the chase.

I'm sure there are other Cruisn' towns and other stories.  What was yours?

What Fragrance Were You Wearing?

Like music, certain smells can transport you through time as well.
 
Certain fragrances, for me, conjure up pajama parties, football heroes, dances, first jobs, and other wondrous moments in my history.  I'm sure the mention of a name or brand can do the same for most of us.

My first "had to have" was Ambush cologne by Dana, in the bright pink bottle.  Most of the time I had to settle for the Avon fragrances of "Unforgettable" or  "Sweet Honesty".   Those just did not capture the "It factor" of Ambush's jasmine, bergamot and patchouli tones.   My mother wore Topaz and Occur by Avon.

 Ambush's sister fragrance was Tabu.  Only one person I knew wore that.  My favorite checker at the IGA.  Tabu was full of exotic tones that could easily enter a room before you.  You had to be a brave woman to carry it off,  so myself and my young friends stayed far away.. 

Dana also had marketed to young men with Canoe After Shave.  I see Princeton haircuts, clean cut faces and can almost inhale the citrus freshness of this cologne.  Shortly after the Canoe phase came another hit for Dana .  British Sterling.  Everything and anything British was "mod".  This had to be about the mid to late 1960s. 

To the aroma of citrus, add amber to get British Sterling..  My father received some as a gift, back in the day, and I am sure there is still a bottle in his bathroom. He's continued to wear it through the ages.  Also, about this time came Brut, Jade East,  English Leather, and High Karate. 

My sister was wearing Faberge's Tigress at this time.  It was a spicy, musky scent that really contrasted to her other favorite, Houbigant's Chantilly.    Their website says it is composed on sandalwood, moss and orange blossoms.  All I remember from that fragrance is the cloud of powder coming out from the the bathroom door after my sister took a bath.  It is exceedingly difficult to find dusting powder today.  I've looked.  You really felt pampered with that puff flying.

Mixed in there as well, were Coty's Emeraude and Windsong.  Guirlan had Shalimar.  White Shoulders and Heaven Scent floated in the halls around you.

What surprises me most was the fact that these were old, well established ,colognes long before we discovered them. The manufacturer Dana had been around since the 1930s.  Coty's Emeraude from the 20s. I had thought they were marketed and developed for that time.  Talk about the  "It's all about me" mindset of teenagers.   All of them were sold on drug store shelves.  That was what we could afford and the marketing for them had to have been great.

Through the years I have worn some winners and some losers.  I have tried Vanderbilt, Cher, Giorgio, Ciara, and Charlie.  I was hunting for something that would be right for me.  I got bored with each one after one bottle.  Then I discovered "Beautiful" by Estee Lauder.  I've worn it from the beginning.  I never get tired of it.   I may try something else in addition, but that is my fragrance of choice. And that is my fragrance journey.  Where did yours start?