The Permanent Family Record

SIS (“BIG EEK’s spinster sister”) writes: “Subject: A family affair.

“When the Second World War ended and fuel restrictions lifted, war-weary families were encouraged to go on car trips.

“Our family of five climbed into my father’s second-hand coupe for an automotive adventure.

“The three (father, mother, brother) sat comfortably on a bench seat in front while my sister and I perched uncomfortably on a narrow padded bench behind. In fact, we had to sit sideways, trying to figure out how to position our legs for comfort and to alleviate cramps.

“On the plus side, I could stare out the window and read the Burma-Shave ‘jingles,’ one line at a time, as they appeared on fence posts along the roadside.

“Gripping the steering wheel, my father turned into a ‘demon driver’ loath to stop for food or bathroom breaks. Only he had in his head the number of miles he wished to cover before stopping in some hamlet overnight.

“In the car culture at the time, motels were slowly emerging but only near big-city centers. In smaller communities, lighted signs on lawns announced: ‘Tourist Rooms to Let — Reasonable Rates.’

“In one town, my 8-year-old sister pointed out a sign in an enclave of neat-looking homes. Dad pulled into the driveway, and we extricated our road-weary bodies from the car. A pleasant-faced woman answered Dad’s knock.

‘There are five of you!’ she exclaimed. ‘Oh dear, we usually rent to couples.’ Pause. ‘Never mind, we can accommodate. The gals — mother, teenage daughter and youngster — can have the second-floor bedroom. You and your son can bunk in the room above the garage next to the chicken coop.’ She pointed east. ‘Park your car in the church lot. It’s only busy on Sundays and funerals.’

“Father paid for the rooms on the spot.

“We gals were shown to a second-floor living space with a big brass bed —plenty of room for the three of us.

“We had had a long drive that day and were in our pajamas by 9:00. By 9:30 we were all fast asleep.

“One o’clock or thereabouts, I was awakened by something hitting the bed. Next a boot hit the floor, kerplunk. The second boot hit the floor, kerplunk again. Moonlight streaming through the window silhouetted a broad-shouldered male form peeling off suspenders.

“Suddenly a hand gripped my arm. My mother whispered in a frightened voice: ‘There’s someone in the room.’

“Being a brat, I whispered back: ‘I know. I think it might be an axe murderer!’ Oops, I shouldn’t have said that. I planted a seed in my mother’s already-worried head.

“The silhouette heard the whispers. He slapped the wall, feeling for the light switch. Standing at the foot of the bed was a burly, plaid-shirted figure with a bushy black beard.

Surprised, he snapped: ‘Who are you?’

“No reply.

“’Why are you sleeping in my bed?’ He reached over to grab his jacket from the coverlet.

“The abrupt move startled my mother. She opened her mouth and emitted a piercing, high-pitched scream. The wild wail was enough to wake the dead next door.

“My father heard it, too. Jumping from his garage bed, he fled down the stairs, barefoot, flew past the chicken coop, rounded a big white truck, then slowed to navigate a gravel-encrusted driveway, arriving at the second-floor door panting and limping.

“The owners of the house were already there.

“The woman explained pleasantly: ‘This is our son, Will. He lives on the West Coast. Will is a long-haul trucker and was on a cross-country run. He wasn’t sure just when he’d visit, so we never mentioned to him about the rentals.’

“A tired-looking Will managed a weak smile. He grabbed his boots. saying as he disappeared down the stairs: ‘Don’t worry, folks, I’ll sleep in my truck.’

“The bewildered crowd dispersed.

“I fell asleep immediately. My sister, and I assume my brother, had slept through the whole ordeal. I suspect my mother sat, bolt upright, for the rest of the night.

“The next day on leaving town, my father deliberated: ‘Any comments?’

“My brother asked a rhetorical question: ‘Dad, if chickens get scared, do they still lay eggs?’

“I chipped in: ‘The axe murderer was kinda nice.’

“My sister’s eyes bugged out. ‘What axe murderer?’

“My mother spoke up: ‘I’ve had it with tourist rooms. Drop me off at a motel as soon as we find one.’

“Father pondered the remarks, then added: ‘I think we’ll hole in early tonight. My feet are killing me.’”

Then & Now

BIG EEK of Southeast Minneapolis: “Fifty years ago, I received a catalog in the mail from a trading-card company. It was near Christmas, so I told each of the four oldest to pick out a set for a Christmas present. Each of the sets cost three or four dollars.

“To please me, The Oldest Daughter chose the 1963-64 Parkhurst hockey set of 99 cards. The other three went their own way. The Oldest Son picked out the 1958 Topps Zorro set of 88 cards. The Middle Son took the 80-card 1961 Nu Card Dinosaurs. The Middle Daughter opted for the 66-card 1961 Fleer Pirates Bold set.

“I am the guardian of their choices, each card put away in a plastic card holder in albums on my bookshelf. Recent prices: $2,000 for a full Zorro set.

“Pirates Bold, $400 for a full set.

“$400 for a #55 Gordie Howe Parkhurst card.

“And $600 each for several of the Nu Card dinosaur cards.

“Who would have ever thought this could happen?”

Life as we know it

WALDO WINDMILL writes: “During my hitch in the Army in the early 1950s, the Army and Air Force sponsored, for recruiting purposes, a nationally televised show on the ABC network called ‘Talent Patrol.’ The show, which featured talent representing the two branches of the military, was hosted by Arlene Francis, who was dubbed by Newsweek magazine as the ‘First Lady of Television.’ It was basically a variety show, which weekly brought in acts chosen from competitions set up at various military posts around the country. The top-rated acts of each of these post-based auditions were flown to New York City to compete live on ‘Talent Patrol,’ the winner of which earned a few additional days in the Big Apple to see the sights. Winners of the weekly broadcasts were selected by the studio audience by means of an applause meter which measured the volume of applause generated for each contestant.

“Auditions for competing on ‘Talent Patrol’ were held at Fort Riley, Kansas, where I was stationed, in early summer 1953. Twenty-four acts competed for the right to travel to New York City to appear on the September 9th show that had been scheduled to showcase Fort Riley talent. Four acts were selected, including a ‘squeeze box trio,’ a male dancer/comedian, a Western swing combo, and a barbershop quartet of which I was a member. To my surprise, our quartet was selected as the winning act as measured by audience response. I was surprised because we were very inexperienced and, in my view, lacked the moxie and maturity of the other three acts. It was quite apparent to me that members of all three had spent much more time performing during their pre-service days than we had. We definitely were amateurs; some of them were likely pros.

“So why did the audience select us as winners? Good question! I’m convinced now, as I was then, that we were beneficiaries of the American public’s love affair at the time with vocal quartets. The 1950s were clearly the ‘Golden Age of Quartets.’ The Ames Brothers, Four Aces, and Four Lads recorded hit after hit. The Mills Brothers were still going strong, with their father having replaced one of the brothers upon his death in 1936. The Ink Spots were still a big part of the musical scene in the early ’50s. Popular shows of the day featured quartets: Jack Benny had the Sportsmen; ‘Fibber McGee and Molly,’ the King’s Men; Arthur Godfrey, the Mariners and Chordettes; and Rosemary Clooney shared the television screen with the Hi-Los.

“Although many quartets experienced great popularity in the 1950s, their music was far from homogeneous. Harmonies of the Ames Brothers, Four Aces, and Four Lads were quite different from those of the Four Freshmen, Beach Boys, and Hi-Los, for example. Barbershop harmony was given a boost by the Buffalo Bills in their starring role in Broadway’s ‘Music Man.’ The popular Chordettes proved to the world that women could ring barbershop chords as well in their early appearances on Godfrey’s radio and television shows, before topping the charts with more contemporary offerings of ‘Lollipop’ and ‘Mister Sandman.’ And a male gospel quartet, the Blackwood Brothers, gained popular attention when they were victorious on ‘Arthur Godfrey’s Talent Scouts.’

“It was all of these foursomes and countless more who captivated the American people with their music during the ’50s. And it was a small segment of this quartet-loving populace which drove the ‘Talent Patrol’ applause meter through the roof in my quartet’s behalf on that exciting September day. As a consequence, we were able to trade a few days of life at Fort Riley for those same days exploring the Big Apple. What a deal!”

Those magic moments

THE GRAM WITH A THOUSAND RULES: “When I reminisce about the past, it isn’t the big moments that capture my fancy as much as those little vignettes stored away in my brain. Here are some random childhood moments I would love to live again:

“Shelling peas with my Aunt Ethel.

“Riding with my brother Johnny when he drove the neighbor farmer’s big red milk truck.

“Seeing Mom’s smile when Dad asked for ‘another piece of your DEE-licious lemon pie.’

“Watching the meteor showers from the dock on Crystal Bay with my sister Nora.

“Laughing at Dad when he did his rendition of the thank-you speech he would give if carpenters received Academy Awards.

“Dancing in the living room with Nora as we played our 78-rpm records over and over again.

“Seeing Mom’s smile when she completed a difficult jigsaw puzzle; when she finished crocheting a bedspread; when she beat one of us at Scrabble; and every single time one of us walked into the room.”

The Permanent Unclely/Niecely Record

ZOO LOU of St. Paul writes: “Subject: A Canis lupus by any other name.

“For as long as I can remember, I’ve loved classical music. One of my favorite pieces is ‘Peter and the Wolf,’ Sergei Prokofiev’s marvelous and enduring symphonic fairy tale for children.

“Years ago, when my niece Brooke was about 6 years old, we were listening to a recording of ‘Peter and the Wolf,’ narrated by Leonard Bernstein. The famed composer/conductor was explaining how Prokofiev used a variety of instruments to represent the different characters in his musical tale, like a bassoon for the grumpy old grandfather, an oboe for the duck, a clarinet for the cat, kettle drums for the hunters shooting their guns, and French horns for the wolf.

“When the symphony began, I challenged Brooke to see how many characters she could name after hearing their instrument. She was doing quite well, until the ominous sounds of the French horns filled the room. With great sincerity and confidence, Brooke said: ‘The fox!’

“I put my hand over my mouth to stifle a laugh, but my amusement was obvious. Brooke gave me a puzzled, ‘What’s so funny?’ look, until I pointed out the horns were for the wolf. Then Brooke began to laugh when she realized her little faux pas.

“Even though the fox is related to the wolf, I told Brooke that Prokofiev’s masterwork wouldn’t have quite the same dramatic appeal if it were titled ‘Peter and the Fox.’

“As another example, I brought up the Disney cartoon ‘The Three Little Pigs,’ and the song ‘Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?’ I began singing: ‘Who’s afraid of the big bad fox, the big bad fox, the big bad fox?’ Brooke soon joined in and we had a grand time, even dancing around like the little pigs. And for weeks afterward, I remember Brooke going around singing about the big bad fox.

“Every time I hear ‘Peter and the Wolf,’ I think of that beautiful moment between me and Brooke, and the wonder-filled innocence of a little girl. It was a true classic.”

Our birds, our wildlife, ourselves

THE ASTRONOMER of Nininger: “Subject: Clever critter.

“Living outside city limits affords homeowners some different styles of comfort and leisure not afforded to their urban counterparts. Some people are comfortable leaving their automobiles unlocked when parked in the driveway, and some people even go so far as to leave personal items outdoors, on their lawns, etc. I share with you a true story from one of my neighbors who solved a puzzling problem last week.

“Vicky loves to feed the birds. They sort of are ‘her’ birds, and she provides more than adequate rations to tempt their palates. Lately she has been feeding the hummingbirds. Daily she would mix sugar, dissolving it in water and coloring it with red food dye. It made a delectable nectar that the hummers thoroughly enjoyed. But rather suddenly her hummingbird feeders, hung with care from branches of back-yard trees, started disappearing. Now, who took my hummingbird feeder? Checking around, she could not find them anywhere.

“The wind did not just blow them down. It was surely a deliberate act on behalf of a mischievous villain. But why? This went on for several days, and Vicky had to replenish her store of nectar feeders. Then, one evening she got the idea to go out and see what might be happening to her feeders. Surprisingly, she looked in another tree, not too far from where her feeders had been hung. There she saw a chubby raccoon sitting on a limb, resting back against the trunk of that tree. In its hands it held tightly on to Vicky’s hummingbird feeder, with one end elevated while the other was in its mouth. It looked to her like the coon was drinking from a baby bottle and enjoying it as much as Jove’s nectar.

“They are indeed clever critters.”

Out of the mouths of babes

KING GRANDPA: “My son Jake, a thin, young-looking 37-year-old, just scratched an itch and bought himself a OneWheel. It is a very cool merging of a skateboard and a Segway. He mastered it very quickly.

“One day while he was escorting his elementary children to school, a 10-year-old boy was eyeing him suspiciously while he rolled through the neighborhood. The young boy mustered up his courage and approached Jake and asked: ‘Are you a teenager, or a full-grown adult?’”

Band Name of the Day: Three Little Pigs