I am very fond of this squirrely card from the Union Pacific. But there really must be something metallic in its threads (of maybe the heavy metal toxmosis, too much chromium and cobolt leeching from my fake hips, traveling through my blood stream, coming out from my hands, that causes the malfunction, In any event, once again, apologies for this particularly rotten scan.
In any event, at this exact second, I can’t lay my hands on the original, but I don’t believe the name of the critter is a kabab squirrel, although it is from 1934, and during the Great Depression, there may have been more than a few squirrel kababs being cooked in the hobo jungles along the rail lines. And the card does mention the squirrel is rare. Perhaps the little rodent have been made well-done during the early years of the Depression, that it became “rare.”
Although on the front, the author claims he can’t write on trains, I have an easier time reading his message than many another I’ve posted. I make it out to be, “Dear Barbara, Sorry I missed seeing you again before you left dear but I was busy on day duty til the last minute - Am on my way to see my little boy. Wow. J.R. Reeses.”
And to continue my house (or rather computer) cleaning, here’s a trio of home town pride cards that I don’t think I posted when I put up some of my other Long Beachian cards. There is that 1978 Alamitos Bay card which shows the Howard Hughes Plane, the Spruce Goose, along side of the QM (the QE2 paid a visit to the Port of Long Beach earlier this year; and everyone here was being anthropomorphic like crazy whenever speaking of the ships; most folks were giving them grandmother/granddaughter style personalities and relationships,) .
Obviously, since you can see the giant birch wood troop transport plane, the card is from back before we sold off the Spruce Goose to a town in Oregon, McMinnville, in 1993. Now that large dome, as I understand it, is chiefly being rented out occasionally for use as an amphibious sound stage (although I know for sure and certain that the giant factory hangar in Marina Del Rey, where it was originally assembled and housed, is used as a sound stage, so I may be conflating the two). Being that it was made of birch not spruce, I don’t recall exactly how it got its nickname. I guess they felt constrained to talk about it as bird, but none of the journalists could come up with any flying critters that rhyme with birch. If it had ever seen active service, I’ll bet the soldiers would have come up with different nicks for the old girl. In fact, although it wouldn’t be an exact rhyme, I think they might have retained the birch wood, but used a (flying?) female dog for the second part of the epithet.
That post card of Mottle’s Mortuary is a spare. I STILL haven’t located the main stash of my grave/cemetery/mortuary postcards. But these repeats do pop up occasionally, and, while I haven’t seen any except the actual coffin and corpse card being reblogged, I hope the more prosaic grave and funeral home cards are being by enjoyed by y’all.
The Drake Park invite is, off course, a reproduction. But it was advertising a mayday event, and I thought the photo was cool enough to merit inclusion.
I am trying to empty out my “Road to Heck” folder. These are the cards who, for one reason or another, didn’t get uploaded in a timely manner. I had only best intentions, wishes to post, comment, and then show my own works; well, at least the roughly analogous ones. However, since the aforemention heck road is paved with my good intentions, if I continue to wait until I have a “le mot jus” for each picture file, they may never see the light of day. So here’s the first group (well, not really grouped, no special types or locales or subjects, etc.; in fact, the only thing they have in common is that both sides have been scanned, and I’ve pick out a background.) Although all these were in the “unposted” folder, I’m not sure that it is necessarily true, but I’m also sooooooo very lazy that I can’t be bothered to look back at my archive to verify. So if there are repeats, I do apologize.
And speaking of labels…here’s some odds and ends. I used to have “The Breakfaster,” which made coffee and food WHILE it toasted bread!! So I’d like to propose a toast…To Warm Crunchy Bread with Butter! No, wait, I meant, To being grateful for everything, even our woes. May we all live in Gratitude three hundred sixty five days per year, even if we only speak of it annually. And to postcards. Here’s to Postal Cards and Snail Mail! Cheers.
This one is not entirely the fault of my crappy scanner (or crapping scanning, or combo thereof), because even on the actual card I have trouble making out the faded words. And, although I can see that the front is Identified as Shakespeare’s cottage, and sort of can tell that the paragraph is saying if you’re sending out at the “printed matter” rate, the words “Post Card” must be struck out, and that the number of words in your message are limited if you’re mailing internationally, but I’m able to make it out exactly. Any historians of British Postal rules and regs reading this, feel free to drop me a line if you know how many words and why they were limited.
Again, apologies for the quality of some of my scans. I’m not sure why the pixels per cm drops sometimes, and why the color management sometimes slips into older protocols. It seemsas though my scanner just dislikes certain cards or photos, because, even once I’ve reset the default settings, or rescanned after a reboot or two, there are certain cards which refuse to come right. Perhaps there’s some aluminum shavings or other metallic dust clinging to this card, reflective bits that mess with my (admittedly cheap) all in one. In any event, the back of this Disneyland postcard reads, “ Take A Look At Your Aluminum Future … Watch For The Kaiser Aluminum Telescope—In Tomorrowland
In Tomorrowland — see the Bright Star in the World of Metals — Kaiser Aluminum. There’s a talking knight, and a spectacular spaceman to delight the children. A walk through the telescope will take you into an aluminum world of the past, present and future.”
The following info was lifted…er borrowed from a blog called Daveland: the Blog, found on Blogger.com, as were the pencil sketches of Fap…er…Kap, the pig, etc. (and, yes, it would have been easy enough to also borrow a good digital pic of this postcard, but after the trouble this card put me through, I’ll be darned to heck, if I don’t get some use out of the gol-danged file; please excuse the use of such “blue” language).
Guests saw this 40’ polished aluminum telescope at the entrance. Naturally, the pen for the guest book was made out of aluminum. The mascot of this exhibit was KAP, the Kaiser Aluminum Pig, which is a reference to pig aluminum (the unmilled rough form of aluminum). The exhibit bemoaned the past without aluminum and extolled the virtues of the future (space suits and more), thanks to aluminum. Kaiser Aluminum wanted out of Disneyland almost 3 years before their 5 year contract had expired because they felt that the Disneyland TV show had competing sponsors on it. With some persuasion from Walt, this exhibit stayed on until July 1960.