Government Work

Here we are: on the eve of an election that follows over thirty years and and unknown millions invested in turning anti-government propaganda into mainstream narrative.

November 6 is mere days after a disaster that kind of illustrates the need for effective government.

As it happens, Sister J, the brother-in-law, and I drove west from the East Coast in time to beat the storm, just two days after the funeral of our 93-year old father. We were lucky to have plenty of warning, through FEMA alerts and local governors' advance state of emergency declarations.

We brought back family photos and whatever priority items we could get in the short time available. J is now the keeper of a World War II veteran's army memorabilia, mostly printed. There's a lot that needs to be scanned at some future time; it's fascinating material, and a reminder of how valued "government work" once was.

For now, here are a couple of items.

The letterhead is from a WWII posting for ordinance training; graphic detail is in the style of an engraving—

These are from a couple of decades later [enlarged from a 2 x 5" ticket folder]—

Oh, là là!

From the library's free cart of sale leftovers: a 1948 paperback—

Written in 1928 and first published in the U.S. nine years later, this is a comedy of life in an imaginary small town of the Beaujolais region. The plot summary—

A story marketed to "the male palate"—

The author opens with a page-long guide to the characters. The "Masterpiece of Nature" who drives the local men to desperation, and her opposite, the spiteful old maid, are among the large cast of local lovelies, merchants, functionaries, and notables. Some others are "THE CURÉ PONOSSE: A gentle priest who was filled with embarrassment by the confessions of the women of Clochemerle, a town in which the men were not inactive"; a pair of "eloquent" town gossips; "THE GIORDOT FAMILY: Of whom the less said, the better"; and so on (and on)...

Following this long (and rather tiring) list, the author adds that the action is joined by "a great assortment of excited artisans, tradesmen, winegrowers, soldiers, and politicians."

Dated as it may be, I would give this a try, if it weren't for the loose pages. ... Well, that and the moldy smell; nice art, but this is ready for re-tossing into a free pile.

The 1948 French movie version might be fun, at least as a period flick.

A fond tale about the amusing follies of the provincial cousins could have been a good source of post-war cheeriness.

Possibly cheering to the French, that is; the New York Times was offended by the movie's "feeble attempt to be witty at the cost of considerable bad taste." Said even as Bosley Crowther observed that "the picture is so extensively cut, for good and respectable reasons, that all you will now see on the screen is some rather crude French clowning in a virtually meaningless farce."

From presumably the same time is this Czech poster, with literal "bell-blackbird" rendering of the town's name.

Steamy!

Did this subject once inspire a whole genre of post cards?

I haven't been able to find "naughty laundress" as a period subject, but it would have been a natural. After all: working-class women, stripped to their underwear... Even if this well-groomed model is posed (and wearing rather fancy lingerie, at that), "doing the wash" was an excellent excuse for the pose.

Don't know the card's date, but those nice undies include a slip with decorative border somewhere between art nouveau and deco.

I especially like the retouching to denote water drops.

The card was widely marketed:

And this really jumped out at J:

Haven't managed finding more about that besides another card, with this description:

Hand-tinted card, posted in 1912, of a lovely young woman with an Art Nouveau style. This card was printed on paper soaked in radium bromide; after the discovery of radiation by the Curies in 1898, uranium and its salts took on magical properties in the minds of the people and were used for "health"and decoration (it glows!), in food, clothing, toys, and yes...postcards! No promises that this card glows, as we haven't yet had the chance to place it under a blacklight.

There's no visible effect on the laundress card either. It actually looks like photo paper that this was printed on, as there's silver residue (which doesn't show on the scan).

I also saw references to radium brom in homeopathy; well, another good reason to give that theory a miss.

So: did this represent la petite blanchisseuse, or der kleine Wäscherin?

The card probably is German.

As were many good old-fashioned questionable radium products.

Going Like Hottokēki

Gather round the takoyaki grill... J's find at the annual rummage sale held by a Japanese ex-pats' club.

This says takoyaki, followed by small print: hottokēki (hot cake), then Chinese characters I read as "maker." Characters should be grill + both (or, together) + use. So, a takoyaki maker for "dual use"? For either grilling or baking? Or to make some alternative octopus-shaped dumplings?

In any case, here's the business end, for pouring in batter.

Other side...

"APOLLO"

Just to be sure there's no mistaking the product, the head of the family kicks things off. Watch the expert, as he digs happily into a steaming batch of grilled octopus dumplings!

Marketing? ¡Sí!

It was in the 1980s that U.S. commercializing of Cinco de Mayo began.

Here's a use of "colorful" Hispanic culture that's a bit earlier (as well as being California- and industry-specific)—

This copy is "Rev 4-78"; put out by—

Where the fruit is grown (click for full size)—

Detail—

"Avocado Bravo," the copy writer informs us, is "Spain's Legacy to California Cuisine"—

As shown on our cover, it is the spirit of a bold and dashing cooking style that we would like to capture for you in this book... with the full color and flavor of the Spanish West.

The very word California carries the smack and crackle of adventure...a colorful procession of historical personages [...]

From the highborn Castilian officers sent from Spain to protect the missions, the original Californians are descended. These young dons sent back to Castile for their womenfolk, and the mistress of each hacienda taught her Indian servants to cook in the classic Spanish style.

Yes, this has original Californians being served by Indians, who would seem to have materialized from thin air.

To continue that paragraph—

What evolved as a formalized cuisine of the Spanish West was a spirited blend of Spanish, Mexican and Indian... with a little Gringo thrown in, as many a proud, but impoverished hijodalgo [sic] married off a dowry-less daughter to a blue-eyed, go-getting Yankee. The Spaniards brought their delicate egg dishes, their spitted meats and barbacoa. The Indians contributed the secrets of corn cookery. The Mexicans came north with peppery salsas fired with spices and cooked with limes. And chocolate, of course. And avocados. Avocados crushed for guacamole...halved to stuff with tomatoes, coriander and green chili—or to eat net with a squeeze of lime and a little tequila...whole, just to savor with a lick of salt.

California's own uninhibited cuisine offers a hundred ways to serve avocados [... ] These recipes reflect the open-handed hospitality of the West, combining ingredients in a free-wheeling western manner to achieve splendid effects of color, texture and flavor and...overall...a certain rough elegance that is uniquely Californian!

This is followed by a history of the fruit's cultivation; useful tips—

"Some pleasant things about avocados" touts the versatility and nutritional value. Not only that, but you can grow a tree; the next page offers full details.

Some of the recipe illustrations—

And, yes—

This gets so psychedelic that it must be said: Avocado Seed Soup!

World Tour, A Lá Dollar Store

Or, a tour of some random countries, at least, since shopping trips often turn up some items from places not known as "China." And if purchases are not akin to those of the Grand Tour, the price is right.

Can't say much for the highly artificial scent of the "mineral salts and seaweed" bars, but couldn't resist the wrapper (enlarged here)—

Uh, no; it would appear not—

The offer of "Find Cash! In the bar if you're lucky" [according to my gracious host's translator] was past its expiration date, but winning a prize wouldn't have paid for the trip to claim it, as Rp 200,000 turns out to be not quite $22.

Sister J. has remarked on the odd paths by which merchandise comes all this way to sell for only $1. Complicated intrigue and money laundering were her suspicions...

Overactive imaginations aside, this is a store run by a nice family that's been in its nearby location for quite a few years, to the gratitude of the neighborhood. I've heard appreciative remarks from more than one customer, including the public school teacher who exclaimed, "If it wasn't for you, I couldn't afford to buy art supplies for my students!" But that's a whole 'nother story, about our brave new world of Tiffany's or Dollar Store...

I did want to find a juicer, and this Israeli-made plastic model does not smell toxic. Kitchen use requires removing the enjoyably retro packaging, but that's one thing cameras are for—

It is a good design, with a handle that fits nicely in the hand—

And this is reminiscent of those happy, happy foodstuffs of 1950s cookbooks...

OK: Declare Victory (And Go Home, Already)

A flip book, opening with these instructions— I'm not so sure about this "upper" and "lower" business, since the black numbers actually are visible at page tops—

Maybe the system refers to whether pages need turning or not (so "upper" means reverse of a current page). In any case, each number corresponds to a list of New Testament verses. By flipping to the matching references the reader is led to "proof" of each point: ammunition for charging on to win those souls.

Second half of the setup—

After answering all one needs to know about Hell (page 39) and Salvation (40), some very special help is offered— This is a family franchise; original copyright noted 1948, Waldemar W. Zimmermann and Donald A. Zimmerman.

This time around—

Compiled by Max E. Zimmerman
Over 1,000,000 in print
23rd Printing, January 1988 — 50 M

One great thing for these people, since 1948— Publisher is listed as "Immanuel Mission Inc." in Phoenix. Printing is in California, and was no doubt kept in someone's family, too: printer uses a union bug ripoff, but it's for sure no ungodly union need apply—

Do the Japanese Have a Word For It?

Something along the lines of, "Cute, but obsolete technology"...

Even though cuteness is linked to the most of-the-moment fads and fashions, Japanese cartoon styles don't seem to change all that much over time. These mid-1980s store giveaways are inserts for audio cassette boxes—




Exotic places...

... But could The Message to your Heart emanate from anywhere as chic?

Sugar Frosting

The National Sugar Refining Co. of N.J., 1932

Early in the twentieth century this brand turned the name of a nipping-at-the-nose winter demon into a cheerful kewpie, personifying the snowy whiteness of its product.

When this booklet's inner pages are opened, a cutout at the fold displays a Jack Frost image printed on the inside covers.
As is so often true of old giveaways, the print quality is impressive. Like the front cover border, this background is embossed metallic silver.

The "really unusual recipes" pitch is interesting. From the inside front cover—

They are something different. Each one has been tested by people who love good things to eat and we have included in this booklet only those recipes where the verdict rendered was, "Mmmm, isn't that good!"

The secret of them all is that they are simple recipes and if followed exactly, can be made by the most inexperienced cook. Unusual and perfectly delicious results are obtained, through the choice of different kinds of Jack Frost Sugars. These recipes illustrate perfectly how the right kind of Jack Frost Sugar in the right place makes eating an exciting adventure instead of a routine activity.

Perhaps it was a subliminal approach, for a sugar company to persuade home cooks that these recipes were especially refined.

And it may well have reflected the early twentieth century popularity of tea rooms. Luring customers with creative décor and atmosphere, tea rooms seem to have led the way to eating place as special destination, according to Jan Whitaker's book. Menus consisted of "dainty" specialties, billed as intriguingly unique—even if most establishments served pretty similar items.

Of the eight pages of recipes, here's another sample—
The brand still exists, although it's part of a newer conglomerate. Instead of the old, androgenous kewpie, the logo character now is a blandly generic elf.