Okay, so I admit that my overly elaborate frames sometimes interferes with rather than highlighting the scans of the postcards I’m trying to share. But for a post card from San Simeon, Hearst’s Castle, I think I owed it to good ol’ William Randolph.
I read it as “Saturday, Hi-We are here for a couple of days and enjoying even though I was here a few years ago. You have to see it to believe it. Please have all your snow before I get home. Love K.” And it is addressed to a Mrs. Noble Schmidt. Hopefully noble by nature as well as name.
Did I post another version of this? I’m too lazy to check. Sigh. Well Dammit I think this is worth posting twice anyway. Unfortunately, it doesn’t look all that spectacular, but this novelty postcard has a spring, and a little bellows, and an aperture that emits an awful (yet endearing) approximation of the wolf whistle (the whooo note playing as you press down, squeezing out air slightly redolent of squirting lapel flowers and bad cigars; while the hooo note coming as the air rushes back in thanks to ever so clever spring action).
Yet another movie promo card for a film that didn’t get the box office it deserved. One day I’d like to write a short piece about the Leammle Family, Carl, and the founding of Universal, his son, and the carving out and conquering of a nascent horror genre, and even nephew Max and the little art theater chain we so enjoy in So. Cal.
Wonderful scenery, good weather, car running ok . Had to finish in pencil. Have cream on my hand and must have got some on card. We’ll be in Montereal in lass than 1 hr in the morning. Love Alma & Dave.” From the late 50s. I don’t know details like the hand cream on the card making ink a less than feasible option tickles me so much, but it’s the kind of thing that makes postcards my favorite hobby. It’s so mundane, and yet somehow captures a kind of essence that makes me as the past is breathing and that I can feeling and smell that living breath.
A few more late twentieth century free rack ad cards. Sadly, free racks of ad postcards are no longer a part of my life. Have they gone away entirely? Or, perhaps, a shift in the kind of restaurant and entertainment venues has taken me away from proximity to the racks. I confess that I no longer have the desposible income I once enjoyed, and, I am perrhaps of a…er…a…less youthful demographic than the marketers are targeting.
This time I can’t blame my scanner. This is a postcard that has a squeaker in the middle, you know, the thingamajig inside squeaky toys that makes them squeak. It also has a little spring in there. So, you press on the card and it emits one note, then the spring causes it to re-expand, and another note issues forth. It is, I imagine, supposed to approximate a “wolf whistle.” At the time of this writing it makes the saddest, most dejected little noises so that I can’t even call them squeaks. Is there such a thing as a “wolf whimper?”
Any Grammarians in the house? Is, “they grow profusely,” correct? I realize the card plainly states that they grow in Florida, but for some reason, I want to say that, “they grow in profusion,” as well.
Dammit. I need a new scanner. An old rack card for Victoria’s Blatant.