My number was Virginia 9. We lived in queens. I remember shoe laces – Long thin strips of licorish, wax soda bottles, and candy smokes. We used to buy penny candy, little carmels, red hots, and other chewy things that practicly ripped your teeth out of your head. Had to do it on the sly – candy was off limits in our house. medeska
When I was in college in the 70s, I convinced my father to give me money for the 5 1/2 inch green snakeskin platform shoes I fell in love with. My bargaining ploy was the fact that the shoes were the last pair and they were on sale – only $50, reduced from $75! some bargain, huh?!? But I loved those shoes!
What about “chips” on the ball. I think we argued more about who owed who a new spaldeen after one either split or was hit further (or to some forbidding spot)than anyone cared to chase, than whether a pitch was a strike or whether a ball that landed on the sewer was a single double or what. It’s great that the spaldeen is back, though I’ve yet to find a place selling it here in Baltimore.
My mother’s “calling out” became a thorn in my side, one that my mother never grew out of. It began from a second story garden apartment in Queens,(where I grew up), and I was called up for a variety of things: “D-I-N-N-E-R! P-H-O-N-E-C-A-L-L!”, “E-D S-U-L-L-I-V-A-N I-S O-N!” As I grew older, these “calling outs” of my mother’s, escalated to the next level, and she brought them with her into various department and book stores. Not having her trusty window with her, my mother would invariably wonder off to look at something, lose me in the process, and then page me. When I turned 43 (gulp!) I decided that I’d had enough! So ….. On A recent trip to K-mart, wondering through the plant isle, I realized that I was in a one way conversation with myself. My mother had done it again. Poof! she had disappeared. I knew in a manner of 5 minutes or so, my name would be announced, and ALL of K-Mart would hear it. I ran over to the toy department, and picked up an item. As I heard my name, I rushed over to the nearest cashier, and made my purchase. I took my mother’s arm, and escorted her outside, where I presented her with own megaphone. She laughed. After a recent trip to Macy’s with my son, I called my mother on the phone and asked: “Remember that megaphone I bought you in K-mart? Could I borrow it?” My mother laughed.
Well I hungout in Harveys Candy Store on St.Johns Place and Nostrand Avenue..all the guys did..just a tiny hold in the wall but we had credit! Owner Tom Harvey kept our debts on index cards and let us know when we failed to play..pinball machine..it was a wonder we could all crowd in on rainy days..all ended with WWII..love thinking about it though. John
Does anyone remember Ben Casey/Dr. Kildare shirts? (Difference was one buttoned up on the left and one on the right – I’ve forgotten which was which). White cotton mock turtleneck shirts with buttons up the side in the early 60s, when there was rivalry going on between Ben C. and Jim K. They were great to wear bopping around the neighborhood with your transistor radio up against your ear. Also, as I recall, shirts that exposed the belly button were not invented in the 1990s. Doesn’t anyone remember those cotton half-shirts with the ruffles that ended somewhere way short of your navel? They were so, so cool – literally and figuratively. By the way, I loved those sunsuits. Had lots of them as a kid. Wish I could still pull that off!
Platform shoes were the bane of my existence as a youngster. By the age of 13 I was 5’9″, and the guys really hadn’t caught up with me. I soon leveled off at 5’11” and pretty much stayed in my jeans and deck sneakers and sandals till age 18, when finally I started dating someone three inches taller than me who was into all that John Travolta garb when we went out. In his platforms he was about 6’4″, so I could wear whatever shoes I wanted (by then, of course, plain old pumps and flats were back in vogue). Sometimes in high school I would wear clogs (they made a great banging sound on the all-metal staircase running up to the 7th floor tower, where my homeroom was). That was fun. We could all recognize each other by the sound of our shoes, so to speak, and stop to meet and hang a bit in the stairwell on the way up to class.