Bouncing Around the Internet

Back when my Dad and I went to the Trolley Museum, I took some pictures inside the trolley car of the "old timey" ads.

It struck me how much things have changed or perhaps haven't changed as much as they might need to...


The ad over the "No Spitting" sign and next to the timeless Heinz vinegar ad, was a curious one. Gold Dust? What, do tell, is Gold Dust?

After I googled up a hundred links or so, I found out that this 1921 advertizing sign was for Fairbank's Gold Dust Washing Powder - The Many Purpose Cleaner. The company's logo featured the Gold Dust Twins, Goldie and Dustie, two African-American children surrounded by gold coins; the significance of which eludes me.


Mr. Google tells me this is an ad from 1944 - the cartoony Hilter made me wonder just what they were thinking?


This ad says, The Folding Brownie - almost a Kodak - for pictures 2 1/4 by 3 1/4 inches. Price $5.00 - Iver Johnson Sporting Goods Co., 153-55 Washington Street.

I had to chuckle at "almost a Kodak". I'm sure a lot of youngsters nowadays do not realize that years ago, just about every camera that an ordinary person could afford, was a Kodak (and used gasp! Kodak film!). Intrigued and intent on placing a date on this camera ad, I googled the name of the store selling them.

The Iver Johnson Sporting Goods Co. was located in Boston, Massachusetts and dealt primarily in sporting rifles, handguns and bicycles. The earliest catalogs dates from 1871 and Iver Johnson died in 1895. I like a good wrestling match with Mr. Google and a search for the truth, but I felt a challenge coming on...

Further digging around, led to a New York Times article on a Boston city-wide riot over gambling laws that occurred on September 11, 1919 in which 7 persons died and the Iver Johnson Sporting Good Store suffered "several thousands of dollars" of losses, primarily broken store front windows.

Not to be denied the age of the camera ad, I looked further... and uncovered another article, this one by Edward Park, written in November, 1983 recounting his childhood and early days as a news reporter.

"...Iver Johnson's was a wholesome interest. There I could wander through aisles flanked by baseball bats; through thickets of split-bamboo fly rods and stubbles of short, steel bait-casting rods ...; through an arsenal of rifles and shotguns, ... ; and through a long array of heavy woolen winter clothes and thick leather hunting boots. Boys were under constant surveillance by supercilious clerks. I remember how surprised one of them was the day I actually bought something, but no matter. This was a place in which to build dreams."

After a short sidetrip to look up "supercilious" in the dictionary*, I continued to read.

"Along with the coffee smell was another, equally pervading. One could discern throughout much of downtown Boston, and especially around the North End, the unmistakable aroma of molasses.

'Why does Boston smell of molasses?' I asked my friend. He looked at me curiously.

'Because of the molasses flood, of course,' he said."


My Mom being from Boston, immediately knew of the Molasses Flood, when I asked her about it. Such is the power of 'folklore'.

The Boston Molasses Flood occurred on January 15, 1919, in the North End neighborhood of Boston. A 2,300,000 gallon molasses storage tank burst, and a wave of molasses rushed through the streets at an estimated 35 mph, killing 21 and injuring 150. To this day, residents claim that on hot summer days, the area still smells of molasses.

"Molasses, waist deep, covered the street and swirled and bubbled about the wreckage. Here and there struggled a form — whether it was animal or human being was impossible to tell. Only an upheaval, a thrashing about in the sticky mass, showed where any life was... Horses died like so many flies on sticky fly-paper. The more they struggled, the deeper in the mess they were ensnared. Human beings — men and women — suffered likewise."

"It took over 87,000 man hours to remove the molasses from the cobblestone streets, theaters, businesses, automobiles, and homes. The harbor was still brown with molasses until summer."

I never did find out how old that camera ad was... I got stuck in the virtual molasses...


* Supercilious - showing haughty disdain.

Global Organization for Research of Alien Narcoleptic Gazing Entities News!

This news bulletin just in from the Global Organization for Research of Alien Narcoleptic Gazing Entities, better know by its acronym, Glo-Orange.

An intrepid photographer in Fargo, North Dakota has just discovered a wholly new alien species! The really tall skinny knobhead cones have never before been seen on this planet!

In honor of their discoverer, Rita of SoulComfort, the Glo-Orange has decided to name them SoulCOmfort KnobbY Heads, or SCOKY Heads for short.


A Glo-Orange investigative team is now on the way to the scene of all the excitement in Fargo, North Dakota in order to collect more information about these exciting new alien life forms.

I suspect they will use some common Orange Coneheads to cordon off the crowds for the new alien's safety.

-----------------------------------
A brave photojournalist from the Show Me State of Missouri has also discovered a new species of orange aliens! Deanna who uses the "nom de personne d'appareil-photo" of Punkn for her professional body of work has captured these intriguing "fellows" looking into a big hole at a gas station on digital film.


The modest photographer asked, "Are you sure you want me naming anything orange?" and when assured that was the case by a representative of the Glo-Orange, went on to name the new species, BOCHAs.

Quickly explaining, she says, "You see, the dudes are a long, gangly, redneck variety from the sticks of Missouri, all named Bubba. Thus they are Bubba Orange Cone Head Aliens."

A second Glo-Orange investigative team is now on the way to the scene of all the excitement in Big Hole in Ground, Missouri in order to collect more information about these exciting new alien life forms.

I understand they want to find out if all the Bubba's have second names like Bob, Jim, and Mac. Imagine meeting Bubba Bob DeAlphacentauri.

Animal Crackers

Over the Memorial Day weekend, I went south.

All the way to Maryland via Delaware to the "Water's Edge", on the Chester River, a few miles downstream from Chestertown, Maryland. It was the first weekend at the wharf and on the houseboat! Of course, Memorial Day weekend means the annual reenactment of the Chestertown tea party.

On evening of December 16, 1773, a group of colonists boarded three ships and destroyed their cargo of tea by throwing it into the Boston Harbor. The British Parliament responded in 1774 with the Coercive Acts, which, among other provisions, closed Boston's port until the British East India Company had been repaid for the destroyed tea.

In response to the closing of the port of Boston, the citizens of Chestertown, Maryland met in May of 1774 and set forth "Resolves" forbidding importing, selling, or consuming of tea in Chestertown. According to local legend, residents then gathered at the town center, marched down High Street to the brigantine Geddes, which was anchored in the Chester River, and tossed her cargo of tea overboard.

I didn't see any of the festivities -

I spent the weekend doing the two-steps forward, one step backwards dance. After retying all the dock lines for the houseboat, I connected the water to the houseboat and a few moments later, noticed a red warning light on the steering console that I had never seen before indicating the front bilge pump was running.

To you landlubbers, a bilge pump is like a sump pump, designed to pump water out the lowest spaces of a boat. The bilge is often wet, smelly, dark, confining, and unpleasant.

I opened a hatch and saw what looked like Niagara Falls close-up. Somewhere in the plumbing, on the hot-water side, a supply pipe (hose) had either split or come loose from a coupling. The bilge was quickly filling with water, bad enough, but the worse of the fountaining cascade was caused by the fact that the pump hose had broken off the pump.

So instead of pumping water out of the boat, the pump was enthusiastically spraying it all over the sleeping compartment! The bilge pump in question is rated at 1,200 gallons per hour and the model is called the "Tsunami 1200".

The name was quite fitting.

Quickly soaked to the skin, I managed to get the pump turned off - and the water supply to the boat turned off and then set to bailing out the bilge to the point where I could repair or replace the pump. The steamy heat made it a messy job. After about 50 buckets filled by a coffee cup, and then hauled up eight steps to be dumped overboard, I finally got the water level down far enough to get a portable pump into the space to pump out the remaining water.

At which point I hear, "Ut oh!"

Onboard the boat next to the houseboat, the owner had forgotten to plug the drain hole back in before launching his boat! Water was geysering into the boat, literally in a five foot high column! Compounding to his woes, the boat had an electrical problem and it's bilge pump wasn't working!

Being totally soaked anyway, I waded in, felt around in the dark recesses of his bilge for the drain hole and stuck the plug in. After an hour of standing calf deep in oily water, I found the electrical fault and rewired it for its owner. It was most satisfying to hear the gurgle of the water lowering as the pump did its thing and I was soon able to see my toes.

Back on the houseboat, I soon got the bilge pump replaced, the hot water line shut off, and was able to get the cold water running and enjoy an nice icy shower.

Everytime I hear someone say, "My job is boring!" I have only to think, "Sometimes, and for a great many jobs, you really don't want it to be exciting!"

Chester the Peacock didn't come to the wharf this weekend. His mother, the co-owner of the "Animal Crackers" tells me he spends much of his time sitting on the roof of her house staring off into the distance like his father did. Chester still comes down and inside for dinner though.


Anyway, over the winter, Chester's mother got a new puppy!


May I introduce to you, Barley the Seafarin' Dog, part Pomeranian and part Chihuahua, all licks, squirms and way too cute!

He has already fallen in twice to-date and has his very own life jacket!

Thank Goodness for Marmite!

...and thank goodness for Marmite Toasty!


Toastie claims she got the empty "dry gin" box from the local grocery shop to in order to post through the mail some wonderful things - like a red lady bug pennant and "proper marmite soldier breakfast or teatime egg set." Skeptical as I am, I believe her... :)

To make a proper marmite soldier, you first toast some toast and use the plastic soldier "cookie-cutter" to cut out some guys that look sort of like the Royal English Foot Guards that guard the Queen at Buckingham Palace.

Thankfully, Toastie has taught me the proper eating technique... "you have to time the egg perfect so when you smash its head in, the yoke is still runny and ya dippy soldiers makes the yoke run down the side of the shell."

I can only say, it all makes for a regal breakfast and wonderful way to start my day. I do have a struggle remembering to hold the pinkie finger up whilst drinking my Earl Grey, (hot) tea.


Inside the Dry Gin box, was a lovely note and what can only be described as the nectar of the gods (and I do not mean Coca Cola)... that's right, a wonderful jar of Marmite!

I was soon making myself egg-dipping soldiers and spreading Marmite on them. Mmmm Mmmmm Mmmmmmm!!!!

For those of you that have not had the pleasure, Marmite is a sticky, dark brown paste with a distinctive, powerful flavour, which is extremely salty and savoury with "the extract of beef stock" qualities, somewhat (emphasis on the somewhat) comparable to soy sauce.


Toastie tells me that every year Walkers have a competition for ordinary people to design a new 'flavour' and they win royalties if their 'flavour' is picked to go into full production.

This year's batch of flavors are based on Europe's World Cup Football competition that starts this year and include such wondes as: Japanese Teriyaki Chicken, Argentinean Flame Grilled Steak, Roast Beef & Yorkshire Pudding, Brazilian Salsa, Australian BBQ Kangaroo, Dutch Edam Cheese, South African Sweet Chutney, and American Cheeseburger.

I took a deep breath, gathered up me courage and sampled me some Australian BBQ Kangaroo and I must say, "Holy dooley matey! Unless you have kangaroos loose in the top paddock, these are grouse tucker!"

That is to say, "Wow! My friend, unless you are crazy, these are great tasting food!"

The American Cheeseburger chips (errr.. crisps! I mean CRISPS!!) actually tasted vaguely like a McDonald's cheeseburger left under the heat lamp for about 6 hours. I think I'll try the Japanese Teriyaki Chicken next... I wonder what wine would be best with those?

Thank you Marmite Toasty! I hope things are taking a turn for the (much) better for you.

And if England should win the World Cup Football tournament scheduled to take place between June 11th and July 11th 2010 in South Africa, that would be bloody marvelous!