SOCIETY PAGE


Newspapers are not what they used to be. They have a large amount of news, both real and fake, but all news is tightly contained in two or three pages with ads for viagra, refrigerators and cars taking up most of the space.

Not so long ago news was organized into days of the week, with the Sunday paper requiring an entire day to digest, Monday and Tuesday simply rehashing Sunday’s news. Then Wednesday’s paper contained a segment of 6 or 8 pages of cooking and recipes. You could plan the entire week’s menu from the Wednesday paper, clipping recipes which would be tucked away in folders for years to come.

Thursday, no matter if you read the Los Angeles Times, the San Francisco Chronicle or the Seattle Times, contained the Society news. Photographs of celebrities acquainted you with the styles of the day, and you felt part of the coming out parties, and every other event the posh attended. For every wanna-be woman especially, it gave a real meaning to Thursday at the breakfast table. It was a real service to the community.

In or about 1970, the local Atlanta, Georgia’s Thursday Society page covered the birthday party of Miss Sally Jo Hornbacker, who recently turned five years old. The day was sunny and sublime, and twenty small guests, dressed in fairy tale dresses in Easter egg colors, arrived at the local country club, each bearing a beautifully wrapped gift for the pretty little celebrant, herself gowned in an apricot taffeta dress designed by Emile de Mille, with three petticoats in contrasting shades. Sally Jo, the daughter of Judge and Mrs. Marvin Lebush Hornbacker of the Savannah LeBushes Hornbackers. Sally Jo’s ensemble was set off by small black patent leather Mary Jane shoes, and she carried a small beaded pocket book in robins egg blue. The guests, all daughters of the local gentry, were treated to a beautiful six layer cake decorated by the esteemed baker Michele Fontainbleu. Each child was gifted with a lovely gold bracelet upon leaving the part, and it wad deemed a great success.

Today is my birthday. I have achieved the admirable age of 89, which entitles me to not much more than 88 did, but I am probably the luckiest 89 year old living at this address. I somehow helped in creating a wonderful family with the help of a thoroughly admirable husband, who turned out to be the love of my life for the past 70 years. Together we have accumulated groups of very special friends.
You may ask “is that all there is?” and I would answer “What else could there possibly be?” HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

IS THERE TRUTH IN ADVERTISING?


felicitous

Is there truth in advertising? If so, we are in trouble, as half the men in the country seem to be impotent. Television commercials and the sports pages of the newspapers are showing a lot of help for these men with the use of Viagra and Cialis, and now many of the unfortunate souls appear to be suffering from low testosterone. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.

It caught the attention of my husband of 67 years immediately when the ads began showing gorgeous women smiling delightedly while their male partners were leering with anticipation. If we really saw that expression we’d call for the cops. It’s interesting to me that some of these afflicted males look barely out of their 20’s. What a shame. I pointed out to him that these were commercials and not real people. He was not convinced, so I called his attention to the rest of the ad: those with health conditions should abstain, and an erection lasting longer than 5 minutes is too long.

I’m sure you remember the famous scene in Gone With The Wind where Rhett Butler carries Scarlet up to her bedroom? The door closes and that is all we were exposed to. Clark Gable didn’t see the need for leering, and while Scarlet may have simpered for Ashley, she didn’t waste any of it on Rhett.

The now common practice of sharing the bedroom and it’s attendant problems with the public is getting out of hand. The newest ad is a pill aimed at the women of the world who are apparently having a problem constraining the men who have overdosed on raising their testosterone level.

Frankly, I don’t believe a word of it. cat

CARTOONS AREN’T ALWAYS FUNNY


Triangulate
“TRIANGULATE” original sculpture by kayti sweetland Rasmussen

I have a method to reading the morning paper. Instead of ruining the day by railing at the political and world news until the cream sours in my morning coffee, I try to grab the funny papers from Dr. Advice and get a clearer perspective on the important things in life.

Comic strips take me back to a kinder and gentler time when I could climb onto my Grandpa or Great-Uncle’s knee while they patiently read the Sunday comics in the Los Angeles Times newspaper. Together we laughed at the antics of Blondie and Dagwood, Lil Abner, Katzenjammer Kids, and my favorite, Little Orphan Annie. Uncle Phil could pop his false teeth out at will, and Grandpa was able to wiggle his ears, which never failed to delight.

230px-Prince_valiant

Starting in the late 1920’s, comic strips expanded to include adventure stories and then soap opera type serials. Prince Valiant was a serial strip drawn by Hal Foster and taking place in the time of King Arthur, when dragons were running rampant, and the handsome prince in his page boy bob, was the designated dragon slayer. Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Tarzan was put into serial cartoon form by Foster as well. Tarzan showed us how easy it was to shinny up tall trees and make friends with monkeys, but the message brought forth in both of these strips was that good triumphed over evil, and all it took was a pure heart and a lot of muscle. I had a pure heart and though I lacked the muscle, I climbed, and promptly fell out of a neighbor’s cherry tree and drove a rusty nail through my leg. On another occasion, after dreaming I could fly, I jumped out of a second story bedroom window, and though I landed more or less upright, my ten year old teeth bit through my tongue. It was my only attempt at flying. Popeye the Sailor Man gave a boost to the canned spinach industry by showing Popeye scarfing down large cans of spinach and mothers tried to induce obstinate children to eat the terrible slimy green slop, so they could be like Popeye. Loyal Olive Oyl, his fair lady, was part of the love triangle between Popeye and Bluto. and later Swee’Pea appeared as either Popeye’s ward or son.

440px-Bayeux_hawking

Story telling using a series of pictures has been around for centuries. Cartoons have been found in Egyptian tombs, as well as in ancient graffiti all over the world. One medieval European example in textile is the lovely Bayeux Tapestry. The entire tapestry, which is 230 ft. long, has fifty different scenes depicting the Norman invasion. Germany and England presented us with some of the first satirical or humorous sequential narrative drawings.

In America, the great popularity of comics was due to the newspaper business. Various newspapers ran different strips, encouraging readers to follow their favorite comics which often ran in serial form, ensuring regular readership. Newspaper comic strips come in two different types; daily strips and Sunday strips. Most are syndicated, and distributed to many newspapers for a fee. In the United States, a daily strip appears on Monday through Friday and is printed in black and white. Sunday strips are usually in color, and follow their own story pattern. The two conventional formats for newspaper comics are strips and single gag panels. Bizarro, Dennis The Menace, and The Family Circus are two examples of gag panels; Charles Schultz’s Peanuts is a strip. Strips usually consist of three or four squares carrying the narrative along. Who would want to miss seeing Lucy kick the football away from Charlie Brown, or watch Snoopy attach the Red Baron? For Better Or Worse, the creation of Lynn Johston, is a running strip about the daily life of a family. Cartoons frequently are somewhat autobiographical, similar to a blog, but with pictures illustrating the story line.

The funnies are not always funny; the decade of the 1960’s saw the rise of underground newspapers. Political strips such as Doonsbury and Mallard Fillmore, frequently began in college newspapers under different titles, and continue the daily commentary of current affairs. Dilbert is a parody of today’s tech industry, pointy heads and all.

As long as newspapers keep running the comic section, I will look forward to keeping the daily news in perspective by chuckling along with the antics of Hagar, the irascible Dane, and watching the evolving love affair of LuAnn and her handsome Aussie beau Quill. Cartoons tell a simple little story in a simple way.

PLEASE DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO


Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is

“Does Anybody Really Know What Time It is?” original sculpture & installation by KSR

In case you haven’t noticed, the world is changing around us, and doing so as we speak. A new faster must-have gadget comes on the market hourly. I’m sick of having to learn something new every week or so.

We have a new 55 inch TV in the family room which replaced a perfectly good 50″ one. The small TV in the kitchen gave up the ghost, so we went to the store to replace it, but came home with two new TV’s. Dr. Advice is ecstatic. The big one does things we don’t even need. It has a button that says “Smart” with a picture of a little house. It connects with an HD receiver, and the DVI to the HDMI connection. It connects to your mobile phone. You can even have a Magic Remote control. I don’t know what that is. We have 4-5 remote controls we can never find when needed now. They control Blu-Ray, VHS, surround sound, receiver, and something else I can’t remember. And the ironic thing about it that we don’t really watch TV! We watch PBS and movies. We get all the important stuff from the Wall Street Journal, New York Times, and the lousy local rag. We suffer from information overload. I know this sounds dinosaurish, but one of the pluses of maturity is that your own collection of grey cells contains more than you will ever use in the way of information. The best thing about all of this is that none of it talks to you.

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Everyone around me seems to have the latest edition of computer, Smartphones, or whatever, and many of them talk to you. I don’t want a machine telling me what to do. My dear son-in-law was my guru and go-to guy for whatever was new in the tech world. I didn’t need a talking cellphone or computer. My current cell phone calls in and calls out. That’s all I need it to do. Two of our grandchildren, aware of his store of knowledge had a secret saying whenever things could or might go wrong, “WWUDD?” Which meant: “What would uncle Dick do?”

He was in on the birth of modern technology forty plus years ago, and knew what made them all tick inside and out. Everyone over the age of 50 needs to keep friends at least 20 years younger. Better yet, if you get stuck, call a seven year old. Several nights ago a group of intelligent 40-60 year olds, had trouble removing something from the screen of an iPhone. Our seven year old great-granddaughter took it and after one touch of her finger, she calmly handed it back and said “There ya go.” As she turned away she muttered “I can’t believe you didn’t know how to do that!” One of life’s embarrassing moments.

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Several years ago, grocery stores began offering the option of “Self-Serve” stations, so that you can slip your card in and check out your own groceries by clicking the appropriate space on the lighted screen. If you make a mistake, it throws a fit and tells you to call for help. Once that’s done, you place the already checked items on a lower platform and continue. If you place anything, even a paper bag on the platform too the machine yells loudly to get it OFF! When through checking, you click “Finish and Pay”. It refuses to move until you tell them if you brought your own bag. After you’re through it yells “Please remove your groceries!” in a frantic voice. Heck, I haven’t even had time to put my wallet back in my purse.

The annoying voice on my GPS when we take a direction she didn’t tell us to, disgustedly tells us that she is “Relocating!” Sometimes we change directions just to tick her off.

All of which says “please don’t tell me what to do”! I like to make my own mistakes and discoveries thank you. Better yet, try making things simpler like the old “on-off” button our radios used to have, and we won’t need an instruction manual for every new thing you invent each week.