Time Waster

Old NFO: Yes, I'm an old fart...

Why do I get involved in these time wasters?  I got this from Old NFO.

Eating in the Fifties and Sixties

Pasta had not been invented. It was macaroni or spaghetti.

There was also slumgullion.  My father HATED slum, so we never got any.

Curry was a surname.
Curry was an unknown.

A take-away was a mathematical problem.
If you went to public school, it was.  Otherwise it was poor diction.

Pizza? Sounds like a leaning tower somewhere.
No, we had pizza.  It was a favorite appetizer / bad for you food.

Bananas and oranges only appeared at Christmas time.
We had apples.

All chips were plain.
We had bar-be-que potato chips which were far too hot for the average child to eat.

Oil was for lubricating; fat was for cooking.
And axle grease was used in place of butter.

Tea was made in a teapot using tea leaves and never green.
Truth!  The only tea was Lipton.

Cubed sugar was regarded as posh.
Cubed sugar was stolen, one or two cubes at a time, and fed to the burro.

Chickens didn't have fingers in those days.
When chicken fingers first hit the market I couldn't understand what they were.  Everyone knows chickens do not have fingers - don't they?

None of us had ever heard of yogurt.

None of us wanted to hear about yogurt.  My aunt was on some kind of special diet, and she used to get it from the drug store.  Yech!

Healthy food consisted of anything edible.
Well, sort of.

Cooking outside was called camping.
Cooking over a grill or campfire.

Seaweed was not a recognized food.
Who in their right mind would eat seaweed?

'Kebab' was not even a word, never mind a food.
One of the phrases the blockheads in the U.S. got wrong.  Sheesh Kebab was skewered beef, 'sheesh' being the skewer.

Sugar enjoyed a good press in those days, and was regarded as being white gold.
Yep.  Big Sugar was a political force to be reconed with.

Prunes were medicinal.
And they tasted pretty good too!

Surprisingly muesli was readily available. It was called cattle feed.

Because who in their right mind would eat cattle feed?

Pineapples came in chunks in a tin; we had only ever seen a picture of a real one.
That's about right.  I think mom got a real pineapple from someone and dealt with it; it wasn't all that good.

Water came out of the tap. If someone had suggested bottling it and charging more than gasoline for it, they would have become a laughing stock.

Ain't that the truth.  Bottle water?  Are you nuts?
City water tasted funny.  I couldn't drink it, and then I found out the city charged for it.  Charge money for a glass of water?  Are you nuts?

The one thing that we never ever had on/at our table in the fifties and sixties ... was elbows, hats and cell phones.

Get your elbows off the table!
Put your hat away!  People will think you came from the wrong side of the tracks!
<dead silence, as cell phones hadn't been invented yet>

The formatting on blogger refuses to work correctly.

A Young Adult Writing Experience

 I haven't written anything in a long while, despite my good intentions.  To get started again requires something I'm in short supply of: self-discipline.

This morning I was inspired by a Calvin & Hobbes cartoon which neatly summarized something that happened to me a few years back.

RIP Sandra Lee Pross

 RIP Sandra Lee Pross, January 3rd, 1958 - February 10th, 2023

I first met Sandi Pross at the Fred Astaire Dance Studio, at the Holiday Plaza in Maumee, Ohio.  She started as a student around the summer of 1976, and after a few months transitioned to being an instructor.  The owner of the studio was Dan Nash, and he realized that Sandi was not independently wealthy, so selling her five or six grand worth of lessons just wasn't going to happen.  Sandi told Nash (and several other people, notably Robbie Robbins) as much on one occasion when they tried selling her a competition package.  When Robbins asked if she'd like to compete, she responded, "Sure, if you'll pay for it," and laughed.

A week later Nash decided to make her an instructor, a position she eagerly accepted.  Sandi loved to dance, and was extremely talented.

There are three difficulty levels of American style ballroom dancing that are universal throughout the United States: Bronze, Silver, and Gold.  All chain studios have an item called a breakdown book, or breakdown manual.  This manual describes all step patterns for all the dances in a given standard.  The theory is that if you want to learn a particular standard and the dance director is too busy to teach you, you learn to read the manual (reading the manual is an actual skill - not everyone can do it) and so teach yourself the step patterns that way.  The bronze standard is easy.  Silver takes everything to a whole new level, and the manual isn't all that easy to interpret correctly.  The gold standard is complex and presumes a certain level of dance knowledge, and it's hard.

Sandi started in bronze like everyone else, but she learned quickly and was easy to lead.  As a result, instructors that were working on their gold standard would often take Sandi as a partner and would carefully work a pattern out with the gold manual in one hand and Sandi in the other.  It was common to hear one of the male instructors call out to Sandi and ask her to stand in for his partner while he worked through a complex pattern, or to demonstrate a pattern to a student he was teaching.  Sandi was always happy to oblige.

While Nash owned the studio, he decided that it would be a good thing to increase the dance standard.  To that end, he'd hire out of town dance champions and their coaches to come in and train the staff.  Some of these people were personable and easy to work with, such as Lee and Peggy Santos.  Others, not so much.

Vernon Brock and Linda Dean were dance champions in the U.S.  While Linda was pleasant and would teach anyone who wanted to learn, Vernon Brock refused to teach singles - he'd only work with couples.  Any of the studio instructors who wanted to have a lesson with Brock had to have a partner, and in some cases that made things difficult for everyone... except Brock.  In Sandi's case, Brock made an exception and taught her solo for an hour.  At the end of the day, Brock and Dean had a meeting with Nash and his wife Judy.  Brock explained that there was one staff member who was talented, and who had a chance at a U.S. title.  Nash guessed they were referring to his brother Dennis, but they weren't.  Judy guessed someone else, and failed.  Nash demanded an answer.

"Sandi Pross," Brock said, "She's got what it takes to be a champion."

I'll give Nash credit.  He told Sandi what they said about her abilities, and while she was pleased she never let it go to her head.

I have many good memories about Sandi.  We used to go out dancing and close the place down, but like everything else - things change.  The dance studio closed amid a flurry of tax bills and bad checks.  We had a daily business meeting at one in the afternoon, followed by dance session (teachers learning to dance) at two.  One memorable Friday Nash handed out the paychecks as usual, then cashed them all himself.  I'm not sure how many employees understood what was going on, but it sent up red flags with fireworks for me.  I got out the following week.  I think Sandi worked there until the place finally closed up for good, then she moved to Dayton, Ohio, and that was the last I saw of her for several years.

We got together again some years later, and three of us went out on the town on a regular basis.  We enjoyed each other's company, and enjoyed dancing.

Ellen & Sandi / Ellen & Me / Sandi & Me

That's how I remember Sandi.

Cousin Amy's New Grill

 My cousin Amy got a new grill, and we tried it out for dinner tonight.

The New Grill

Note the full size propane tank under it.  This should keep the grill in use for the rest of this year and most of the next.

Cousin Amy

Amy's Back Yard

Dinner Is Underway

The Chef at the Ready!

My Contribution to Dinner

Dinner is Served!

My mother used to make marinated tomatoes when they were in season, and passed the recipe along to me.  Mine aren't as good as mom's were, but they'll do in a pinch.

Dinner was excellent!

Pip Squeak Goes to the Vet

 It's time for a routine checkup and standard vaccinations.  Are we both ready to go to the vet's office?

In His Cat Tree

Breakfast Was An Hour Ago

Aren't I Cute?

The minute I want out to the garage to get the cat carrier, he jumped off the cat tree and hit the ground running.  He vanished into the living room.

I called the vet's office and explained I might be late.  How late?  Well, I'm not as young as I once was, and Pip Squeak accelerates like a dragster.  So, I guess we'll see.

He eventually came back to the cat tree, and I put him into the carrier.  He didn't like it much, but he was quiet on the ride over.  I suppose the good news is that he's negative for feline leukemia and he got his distemper vaccination.  He also got wormed, which means he's getting rid of any intestinal parasites he's carrying around - which he is.

He really didn't like the vet, but he didn't bite.  I explained my background to the vet (grew up on a horse farm), and her background was cattle, both dairy and beef, and horses - and the dogs and cats every farm acquires.

So now Pip Squeak is home, and is somewhat tired out from his ordeal.  Not too tired to eat, though.

 

Writing Contest - Dictionary dot Com

I got this from Reddit, of all places.  Some misguided moderator decided to remove the post for no good reason that I could see, but Dictionary is still running the contest.  From the site:

Haunting Hooks is back, this time with a Sci-Fi theme. The challenge: Write a captivating opening to a scary sci-fi story—if you dare! Winners will be feared (and rewarded with prizes).

The contest is looking for an opening of 50 words or less, which should be fairly easy.  Also from the site:

We are accepting submissions starting at 12:00 am PT on Tuesday, September 20, 2022. The deadline to submit is at 11:59 pm PT on Friday, October 7, 2022.

So it's not like this has to be finished by Friday.  Here's a link to the contest rules, which you should read.  As for me, I'm going to enter.

Meet Pip Squeak

It seems that I've acquired a new kitten.  Meet Pip Squeak, a real survivor.