Saturday, August 28, 2010

Weather Girl

The blonde is my aunt Irene. She would only wash her hair with rain water. She swore by it.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Against the Tide


 Once I had a school assignment to create an imaginary island. I didn't know where to start. My dad was the parent who helped on science projects and geography. We did a science fair project about osmosis. I don't remember the scientific principle, but I carry a torch for scientific glassware. My dad's idea for the imaginary island was to have all of the place names be words spelled backwards. Inspired. Then he came up with a name for the island and it was shocking and funny. Could I really to go to school with an island named TRAF?  A tantalizing invitation to cross a line. I suspect that my mom drew the line. 

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

So Much Riding On It

Mr. Beard is etched in my memory...tall, thin, crew cut with a small bald spot, and natty in a white dress shirt. Probably on his way home from work. Mr. Beard was stopping to look at my aunt and uncle's pink and ivory '57 Chevy. My aunt told me that If we were going to go on the planned vacation tomorrow, she had to sell the Chevy today. And she and I couldn't let on. She talked and I willed Mr. Beard to buy the car. 



Bobbie and Harold


Monday, August 23, 2010

OMG

There wasn't much art hanging on the walls. Wall paper was the dominate decor in our house. This was the picture that hung in my bedroom. I think it sent the wrong message. Every night I'd see those kids on this treacherous bridge, alone in the middle of nowhere, after dark. If that wasn't bad enough, if they look over their shoulders they are going to be scared spitless when they see that huge hovering thing. I thought that was God.

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Sixties Field Trip

Robert Kennedy at Portland State, March 1968
Terry picked us up in her dad's car. We were headed to Portland to see Bobby Kennedy. We were stoked. We were skipping school and, we were driving a '67 Pontiac LeMans 2-door hardtop with bucket seats. Primo.

Three high-school seniors mingling and tingling amidst a sea of college students. RFK! RFK! Candidate and prince. Heavy.

At the end of the day, Terry and Kris dropped me back home and before they got a mile away, they were rear-ended. They weren't hurt, but that pristine, turquoise LeMans got creamed. Bummer.

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Quicksilver

Uncle Douglas brought over a vial of liquid mercury and poured it out on the kitchen table. Don't touch. He and my dad teased it with pencils, but it was stubborn and elusive. They were conducting an experiment. I took it to be an illicit experiment. 

 
Loading mercury with a pitchfork 
your truck is almost full. The neighbors
take a certain pride in you. They
stand around watching.

Richard Brautigan

Friday, August 20, 2010

They Don't Make 'Em Like That Anymore

Jim's VW convertible
My friend, Jimmy, died this week. He was sweet and funny and a ray of sunshine. Wherever he is now, I like to think of him driving with the top down and his dog, Sammy, hanging over his shoulder. Nothin' but blue skies...

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Kelso -- Smelt Capital of the World

News that the smelt were running . Grab the gear, pile into cars and meet near the river.


The fish could be there and gone in a flash.

Women and kids lined the top of the bank holding thermoses. Dads, grandfathers and uncles balanced on the bank or edged into the river. Straining to get the net out far into the channel, and to lift a net sagging with pounds of swarming, silver fish back in.


Cross over the bridge, cross over the bridge
Change your reckless way of livin', cross over the bridge
Leave your fickle past behind you,
And true romance will find you,
Brother, cross over the bridge


Patti Page hit song, 1954

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Driven to Distraction

Evasion by Alan Dausson. 1990
I turned 60 yesterday. Wonder where I'm headed now.

My blog project is done. Wonder if I'll miss the work.

My Road & Track arrived. Wonder if I can contain myself.



Thanks for reading. I'll be posting every Friday for a while yet.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Carold

Harold & Carol
All along, I was supposed to be named Peggy. Or, Alan, had I been a boy. The story goes that when I arrived, I just wasn't a Peggy. So, I became Carol. (Carol Ann, if I was in trouble). My aunt's name was also Carol, but I wasn't named after her. Anyway, that's what my mom would always say. Maybe it was a zen koan. Early on, my nickname was George. It seemed to be an inside joke. I must have been like some George. Seems unlikely that it was taciturn Great Uncle George. I'd prefer that is was George Gobel, the dry-witted comic actor.

Monday, August 16, 2010

I Read It for the Pictures

Road & Track data panel
Dad had this idea to buy an old Porsche and put a VW Beetle engine in it. That was the first I'd heard of Porsche. I bought my first copy of Road & Track at a swap meet not too long after. I wanted to read more about foreign cars, but I didn't want any guff about it. So began my years of hiding a guilty pleasure. "It's for my cousin. He's a shut in." Each new issue was delicious for its photos, off-the cuff writing, and magazine design. My comprehension of performance details never really improved, but I could name almost any car on sight. And, if Road & Track liked it, so did I. I was a slavish devotee and it served me well.

Sunday, August 15, 2010

The Portable Life

Bring back the VW Squareback
At some point after college, I inadvertently adopted a minimalist lifestyle. I only bought furniture that would fit in my car and the total volume of all of my belongings had to fit inside said car. Hatchbacks worked best, but I didn't choose my cars based on cubic footage. I bought the car I wanted and reduced the amount of stuff to fit the car. Valid for renters only.

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Journalism Major

Moving in. McMahon Hall UW. 1971
My carefully considered college wardrobe was this purple jacket, two pairs of Levis cords, one wheat and one rust; two coordinating blouses made by my mom; and, I'm guessing, moccasins. Mom and Dad set me up with a portable stereo and traveller's checks I would cash every two weeks for spending money. We had lunch at IHOP before they headed back home. You can take the girl out of Kelso, but you can't take Kelso out of the girl.


Friday, August 13, 2010

Driver's Ed

Our brand new 1966 Beetle which I would own one day.
I'm posing. I hadn't learned to drive yet. Clutches made it difficult for me. I'm wearing my Lassie sweater. Lassie, as in a Scottish girl, not the canine TV star. Kelso High highlanders, scotties, lassies, etc. We Lassies sat in the bleachers spelling d-e-f-e-n-s-e and making an organized ruckus for the laddies.

I thought the sweater was a good look on me.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Red Dog Cottage

Here's Bevie with our first dog, Rudy. We'd just picked up the rental truck for the move from our Capitol Hill condo to a house with a yard on Beacon Hill. If not for Bevie, there wouldn't have been Rudy. If not for Rudy, there wouldn't have been the house and Benny. As Bevie likes to say: "It's all worked out beautifully."

Happy Birthday, Bevie!

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Summer Rituals

Drive-in movies; new pair of Keds; spotting a falling star; the mosquito fog truck; squirt guns; snow cones; birthday picnics with chocolate cupcakes; a loop around the Seaside turnaround; Ella Mae, wearing a pith helmet while mowing her lawn; and the blimp. Once every summer a blimp would fly over Kelso. The unmistakable sputtering sound of the props was my cue to run outside and follow its odd transit.

      Tuesday, August 10, 2010

      21-foot Cabin Cruiser

      Dad christening the L'il Carol
      It must have taken him two years to build the boat and trailer. Nights and weekends in the garage. Steaming wood in the bathtub, de-burring stainless steel welds, laying fiberglass, sanding and varnishing.

      The launch physics were complicated. He'd back the trailer in until you could begin to hear the car's tailpipe bubbling in the water. One last shout of instructions. With everyone in place, he'd jerk the Chevy forward to shake the boat loose. The freed boat's momentum would rarely favor the person holding the bow line. Success was measured by how dry you could stay.

      Monday, August 9, 2010

      Mom & Eddie's Driveway

      One in a long line of Eddie's Chevy pickups
      On Christmas Eve, my grandparents' driveway filled up with cars. Everyone wanting to get close to the door to unload for the parties and overnight stay. I could keep watch on the arrivals from our house on the hill above. No sense rushing into the tangle. Closer to party time, our driveway and yard filled up with my dad's family. Party clothes, borrowed chairs, electric skillets buffet, and Mahalia Jackson.

      Sunday, August 8, 2010

      Mom & Eddie's House

      My grandmother, Mom, me and Nickel

      I didn't have to knock.
      I didn't have to do or not do anything.

      Saturday, August 7, 2010

      Legendary

      www.aerocarforsale.com
      "Look, there's the Aerocar." Moulton Taylor lived in Longview and sometimes flew his Aerocar out of the Kelso Airport. I saw it being driven one time, but it wasn't towing its wings. The Aerocar wasn't a commercial success and only five were built.

      Probably sick of reading Golden Books to me, Dad told me stories of the underdog car makers like Taylor, Kaiser, Tucker and Amphicar. Ingenuity trumps success.

      Friday, August 6, 2010

      Aggravating Circumstances

      When Dad got a hankering or as relief on hot evenings, we'd head for the Dairy Queen. "One soft chocolate cone, one dipped cone and a chocolate shake." And, when a hot fudge sundae made it into the lineup, that was a special kind of wonderful.

      I don't think Uncle Jerry had such wonderful  memories of the Dairy Queen. He took my mom and me out for burgers in his new 1956 aqua and white Chevy and I put the first blemish on it. When you aren't tall enough to see over the front seats, you must stand on the backseat. It was the discarded pickle I was standing on that bumped my infraction up to a felony.


      Photo from Uncle Atom on Flickr.

      Thursday, August 5, 2010

      Clam Fritters

      Mom & Eddie's 1950 Chevy

      It was a day trip from Kelso to Long Beach. We'd drive right onto the beach and set up for the day. The car served as windbreak, chuckwagon and dressing room. But more often, our beach trips meant digging for clams. We were prodigious clammers. If we had one, our family crest would feature a razor clam.


      Clam Clan: (counterclockwise) Me on my Aunt Carol's lap, Uncle Tommy, Eddie, Dad, Mom. My grandma, "Mom," is the photographer.

      Wednesday, August 4, 2010

      Social Studies

      Mrs. Jackson sometimes sang in class. She had a determined, yet warbly, vocal style. Even though I tried to stifle a laugh, there was no tamping it down. On each occasion, it devolved into full-throated laughter. I regret being unkind, but I am perversely proud of that Zero.

      Things I Thought I Would Be But Never Was

      Able to hear dogs speak to me. Adopted. Left handed. Red headed. A prodigy. A tennis pro. An archaeologist. A Californian. A high school teacher. A naval officer. A feminist. A journalist. A radical. A medical technologist. A meter maid. An artist. A cartoonist. A cartographer. A world traveler. An interpreter at the UN. A beach volleyball pro. A poet. Fluent in Esperanto.

      Tuesday, August 3, 2010

      18 Degrees Below


      We lived with my grandparents while my dad built our house on the lot next door. I grew up running between the two houses. Mom and Eddie always had dogs and cats. One day Eddie came up with a present for me. Under his jacket was a puppy, my first dog, Butch. That's Butchie in between Eddie and the white dog on a hay truck. This photo was taken the year Mom & Eddie tended a ranch in freezing cold or blazing hot Dairy, Oregon.



      Butchie of Sunrise Street
      Sire: Bobby Cawlfield
      Dame: Nickle Ribary
      Grand Dame: Cocoa Ribary

      Monday, August 2, 2010

      George Booth

      One of my favorite New Yorker covers by a favorite cartoonist.

      Sunday, August 1, 2010

      S.I.S.T.E.R.

      This is me as a nascent, feminist lesbian. My car wore a bra, but I didn't.

      Friday, July 30, 2010

      1953 Spudster

      The Potato Heads were must-haves in my stable of toys. Back then, it was still BYOP (bring your own potato). All that the Potatoes could do was stand around unless you bought them a car. A really big day for them was changing hats or Mrs. P. might sneak a smoke. I only recently learned that they had kids, Brother Spud and Sister Yam. I heard that those kids went on to form a soul group that opened for Sly and the Family Stone. "We are fam-i-lee..."


      Hugs and a bouquet to Ed & Mark who served me all my favorites last night, including mashed potatoes!

      Thursday, July 29, 2010

      Tubes

      Whenever our TV was on the blink, my dad squatted behind the set to figure out which tube was the problem; then drove down to the tube tester before the store closed. The testing was almost always inconclusive. Dad scoured the drawers of small, coded boxes for his best guess.


      Pictured: Atwater Kent Type TA 2 tube power amp from radiolaguy.com

      Dream Cars

      www.californiaautos.com

      1948 Chevy Woody Wagon


      Wednesday, July 28, 2010

      Talismanic

      I've held onto this cover ever since I tore it off in 1986. Reasons why:

      1. Probably due to growing up in the "duck and cover" era, I had a recurring nightmare. I would be playing in our back yard and, just in the knick of time, spot a pterodactyl swooping down to grab me. I'd run to the other end of yard and slide into the crawl-space opening just before the massive claws could latch on. Huddled in the dark, I dodged the beak and claws for as long as it took.

      2. Eddie drove a faded blue '49 or '50 Chevy pickup whose shape and color and mom-&-eddie-ness I always wanted to draw.

      3. Roger Zelazny was my first science-fiction crush. Timmy turned me on to "The Chronicles of Amber" series. I use the vernacular because Timmy and I spent a whole 20-something summer of evenings smoking marijuana, talking sci-fi and listening to the Chi-lites and Stylistics.

      4. This could be the cover of my autobiography.

      Roadmarks published in paper, 1986 . Cover art by Darrell K. Sweet

      Tuesday, July 27, 2010

      Mom

      This is me with my grandmother. She was named Marguerite. Her lodge sisters called her that. In-laws and friends called her Marge. Of course, my mom, uncle and aunt called her Mom. I thought that was her name, so I called her "Mom" too. I recall, at first, confusion and, later, a huffy shrug when a relative would suggest I call her "grandma" or some such. Mom and I were both happy with my choice. I know she loved being a grandmother, but she didn't mind not having to be called that.

      Monday, July 26, 2010

      Log Trucks

      My grandfather, Eddie was born in 1905 in North Bend, WA. In 1924, the Long-Bell mill opened in Longview, WA and was the largest lumber producer in the world. Weyerhaeuser opened a mill of its own in 1929 and became the area's largest employer. Logging was big business in the state. Eddie was a logger, log truck driver and mechanic when there were still plenty of gigantic logs.



      This truck (TN 317) is a Ford built around 1936, and it has seen a lot of wear, so he might be in his late 30s here.

      7/27: Mill start-dates corrected using columbiariverimages.com

      Sunday, July 25, 2010

      Pick a pocket

      Shirt pockets were essential gear for my grandfathers. John's were wool packed tight with a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Eddie's pockets were chambray homes for a pencil, a pack of Beeman's gum and what-not. Herb's gabardine pockets would have been tidily buttoned shut with no contents to destroy the profile.


      1947 Montgomery Ward Catalog. Flickr: Archival Clothing



      Saturday, July 24, 2010

      Piece de Resistance

      "A kiss on the hand may be quite continental..."
       
      In the 1950's sense of "continental" meaning foreign in a romantic way, Uncle Lawrence was as close to continental as one got in our town. But, I didn't get it. I didn't realize those shiny suits were Italian style. I thought he just didn't have very good taste. I remember vividly when he showed up wearing the first pair of wrap-around sunglasses I'd ever seen. Déclassé! After having lived in a partially-completed house that never got beyond tar-paper siding, he built a monumental A-frame and poured its terrazzo floors himself. Terrazzo, sperrazzo! And, there was the Citroen. Evidently, one of the first imported into Washington state. Gads! 

      Need I say, it all makes sense now?

      Friday, July 23, 2010

      My Loss Is Your Gain

      I think it might be time to get myself a car for weekend chores and such. Tricky because I don't want to spend more than $2500. So, I'll be reading each of the ads on Craigslist and hoping one of the "grandpa's car" or "my loss is your gain" ads will reveal the car for me. From last weekend's search, I'm starting to get a feel for what's out there:

      "I am the second owner. The wonderful lady I bought it from kept it garaged and only drove it once a week to the grocery store."

      "i have a 1990 suburban that i need to sell to get my husband out of jail"

      "Gave it to my 19 year old former step son and he messed up the body and interior and now he doesn't want it. I am sorry but he took the stereo, still has new speakers."

      "If you want reliable economical and classic transportation for decades to come, this car is for you. If you're looking for blistering acceleration and Porsche like speed you will be disappointed."

      "This will not get you status on the block, but it will get nods from other people when they see you driving down the street because they know you are keeping it real." 


      Me saying "Jeepers!" in front of Mom and Eddie's '56 Dodge

      Thursday, July 22, 2010

      The Egyptian Trail


      When Ella Munch, my great-grandmother's cousin, moved out to Tacoma to live, she came by car along auto trails, starting in Illinois on the Egyptian Trail. Auto trails were just dirt roads with painted stones and marked posts pointing the way. Ella told me it was slow going and there were constant flat tires. She didn't elaborate. Ella was kinda quiet, like me.

      More Loquacious Accounts
      "Before the Interstates in 1956, before the coming of the US Highways in 1926, there were the Auto Trails. These routes were designated with names—sometimes fanciful, oftentimes utilitarian or descriptive—and marked with colored bands on telephone and electric poles. According to some sources, the first Auto Trail had its beginning in 1911 in Iowa and spread rapidly from there. Within only a few years, the proliferation of "marked" highways was reaching crisis proportions. Countless automobile clubs, tire companies, oil companies and tourist associations erected signs along randomly-chosen routes. Sometimes these routes would veer far from the best or most direct path only to pass through a city which paid a fee to have the marked route run though the center of town."   www.michiganhighways.org

      "When the first autos came to Kimnundy there were no roads except dirt ones. After the fall rains started, you put your car up on wooden jacks in the garage (it was still called the barn) and you left it there till next summer. Dr. Miller and Dr. Camerer each had cars about 1912, the kind you cranked. These models had acetylene lamps which had to be lit with a match at dusk. It was a long trip to Centralia and a real journey to St. Louis, and Chicago. There were no marked routes and it was easy to loose your way in strange territory. Then two men in a buggy came along one day. down the road from Effingham and painted black and orange triangles on every other telephone pole. This marked the Egyptian trail which became Route 37 in 1931." 

      www.archive.org/stream/kinmundyrailwayt00kinm/kinmundyrailwayt00kinm_djvu.txt

      Wednesday, July 21, 2010

      My First Car

      That must be my cousin Frankie sitting in my brand new, light blue pedal car. I put a lot of miles on that beauty, round and round on Mom & Eddie's driveway. This photo makes us look like film noir cheats and petty criminals. In truth, my mother's family were farmers, truck drivers, loggers, mechanics and homemakers. That's my great-great grandfather, Pop, in the rocking chair. He lived in my great-grandmother's house in Sumner. His room was behind a set of etched glass doors and he never came out when we were there. Sure, he could have been away on Don and Diane's Fun Tours those weekends, but I'm sure he was in there reading magazines and nibbling on a stash of snacks and beverages until the coast was clear. I can relate.

      Tuesday, July 20, 2010

      Ramblers Anonymous

      My dad's parents, were partial to Nash Ramblers. Stout and sturdy styling, but such unusual colors. More like appliance colors (Lake Shore Blue, Mariner Turquoise, Autumn Yellow, Mardi Gras Red, Georgian Rose). No doubt because Nash and the Kelvinator appliance business were part of the same company.

      “There must’ve been one car dealer in all of Metropolis, because everyone drove a Nash. Lois Lane had a Nash Rambler. Clark Kent drove a Nash-Healey sports car. For a good chunk of ‘Superman,’ you saw nothing but Nashes.”


      From Auto Ego, New York Times, March 4, 2010

      Monday, July 19, 2010

      The Finns

      My dad, Harold, and his brothers Lawrence, Don, Gordon, Douglas and Gary drove out here from Michigan just after my dad graduated from high school. No more working in coal mines. The family bought land and pitched a big canvas tent where they lived for two years while building a house and working in the paper mills.

      Sunday, July 18, 2010

      Cars

      Where and when I'm from most families had a single car and a male relative who knew how to keep it running. Cars were essential machines. Fixing them was a priority. Talking about cars over coffee, de rigeur. Visiting meant aunts in the house with my mom; uncles and my dad outside under the hood. Even bedtime stories could be about underdog car makers. Cars were defining characters in my growing up, sometimes more so than their drivers.


      Manual from www.cars4books.com

      Saturday, July 17, 2010

      Milestones

      "Milestones are constructed to provide reference points along the road. This can be used to reassure travelers that the proper path is being followed, and to indicate either distance traveled or the remaining distance to a destination."  --Wikipedia

      Soon I will be turning 60. That's a milestone I'm trying to reckon with. Hence these recollections.