“Different cocktails for different Saturday nights.”

The rain started during the night and has just stopped. Rain, even a bit of it, seems to dampen sounds. I don’t even hear birds. I did hear Gracie barking in the back yard, but I couldn’t find what prompted the warning. She has since come in and settled down for her morning nap, probably exhausted from all her barking. Fern too is napping for no other reason than just because she is a cat, and that’s what cats do.

My list did not get finished yesterday so I have to do the errands today. That’s okay as the tourists aren’t here yet for weekends, other than Memorial Day weekend, so I’ll find a place to park and not have to wait in line. I have three stops.

My father used Saturday mornings for his errands. Sometimes he would invite one of us but mostly he went alone. My Dad knew everybody in town so his errands took a while. He went to a two-seater barber shop. The one in Mayberry always reminded me of the one uptown. There was no Floyd but there was the same barber for years. He never had to ask how my father wanted his hair trimmed. He knew. The Chinese laundry also knew how my father liked his shirts. Back then my father only wore white shirts and they were always starched. I never thought about my dad taking his shirts to a laundry and not having my mother do them. That was just the way it was. Much later my father wore different colored shirts which didn’t need to be ironed fresh from the dryer. The first was a yellow button down collar shirt I gave him one Father’s Day. My mother said he’d never wear it, but he did. Another stop for my father was to visit his friend, a pharmacist at his own drug store. It was a small store crammed with anything and everything that bigger drug stores had. It even had a four stool fountain. Those stools had red covers. The last stop for my dad was sometimes at the Red Men where he’d have a beer with the guys. My dad was a member for a long time and one year was even Sachem. The organization is the nation’s oldest patriotic fraternal organization of American origin. I never knew that until I was much older. I just thought it was place for guys to sit around and have a beer or a drink. Come to find out it is both.

Some days develop personalities. Sunday is church day. Monday is the dreaded back to work day. Tuesday and Thursday are just days of the week that nobody seems to mind. Wednesday is hump day, the middle day, the starting line for the countdown to the weekend. Friday opens the weekend. We used to go out Friday afternoons when there were happy hours. It was a weekly ritual. Saturday is for chores and errands but it the best night of the week. Anything special happens on a Saturday night.

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15 Comments on ““Different cocktails for different Saturday nights.””

  1. olof1 Says:

    Strong winds, some raining and now sunshine, I hope my jeans f´dries up already now in the evening, I’ve hanged them to dry by the entrance door in the late sunshine.

    I’ve done lots of things today, all in the garden, but the best one was making an apple pie 🙂 I’ve also watched Grimm and this was a truly good and nasty episode! I’m pretty sure it was Nicks mothers head in the cardboard box at the end of the episode.

    I see the week a bit different as You know, Tuesdays are always horrible and should be forbidden 🙂

    Have a great day!
    Christer.


    • Christer,
      The day turned out to be lovely with lots of sun. It is a long-sleeved day though as it isn’t as warm as I’d hoped.

      All my stuff was somewhere else-doing my errands. I’m going to my neighbor’s at 5 as they are having a little party to celebrate their son’s high school graduation.

      I won’t tell you whose head it is!

      It was the jarring ring of the alarm which made Mondays so awful. It went off at 5, and that was awful being up so early.

      Have a great evening!

  2. Bob Says:

    You perfectly described the way America was in the 1950s.

    Men got their haircut weekly or biweekly a the same barber shop. Dress shirts were only white cotton and businessmen would only wear a shirt that was professionally starched and ironed. Wash and wear didn’t appear until the 60s. My dad’s shirts came back from the laundry folded with a paper band and the shirt was folded around a cardboard sheet in the back.

    When we lived in Brooklyn my dad’s barber named Sal had a two chain shop. My dad and he would play the Irish sweep stakes which I think was illegal. He didn’t belong to any fraternal organizations but my Uncle Sam was a member of the Knights of Pythias lodge but I don’t remember him ever going to a meeting. If I asked about the lodge he told me they had a secret hand shake and secret rituals.

    Every neighborhood had both a bar or tavern and a drugstore. In our old neighborhood the corner drug store stayed open late and my uncle would hang out there because the drug store was one of the few places that was air conditioned. My father only had one drink of Scotch on the rocks in the evening before dinner and never went to a bar. A six pack of beer in our house lasted a long time.

    Another warm dry day. The humidity is increasing with a southerly flow. My spouse and daughter went to the pool yesterday for the first time this year.


    • Bob,
      My dad ‘s shirts also had the cardboard. They were wrapped in brown paper. Behind the owner and the counter were shelves with many brown paper wrapped packages of shirts.

      The barber had only that one shop. The town had one other barber, but his was just as small a shop. Neighborhoods where I loved had a few mom and pop stores but mostly all the stores were up-town.

      The town was dry so no taverns. The Red Men could serve alcohol because it was a private club. If you ate at a restaurant, they could provide mixers but no alcohol. I don’t remember a single air-conditioned store when I was growing up.

      Folks had to travel to the next town to buy any alcohol. There was one store right over the town line which did quite well. The owner probably cried for days when Stoneham finally allowed package stores.

      Still a bit chilly and no humidity yet.

      • flyboybob Says:

        It’s getting hard to find an old fashioned Barber Shop. Now I get my hair cut at a chain shop that only hires hair stylists.

        I used to get my hair cut at a real barber shop over thirty years ago but I think all the barbers all have since died. The place smelled of cigarette smoke and witch hazel. Those were the days when the barber would put hot shaving cream around your ears and then shave the area with a straight razor. I remember the sound of him sharpening the razor on the leather strop that was attached to the chair.

        If you were a good customer he would put a vibrator on his hand and massage your scalp and the back of your neck and shoulders for a couple of minutes. You could also get a shave that lasted at least three days. I think the AIDS scare put many of them out of business because of the fear of them cutting you with the razor. My barber was Earl. He had two triple bypass surgeries but still smoked.

        Earl was a real entrepreneur. During the late 1970s the major airlines were hiring a lot of pilots who were coming out of the Viet Nam war. Many of them came to the flight school where I worked to use their GI bill education benefit to get an ATP (Airline Transport Pilot certificate) and a Citation type rating. Earl put a poster on our bulletin board advertising airline interview haircuts. The students would go to Earl before their interview and he would ask them what airline they were interviewing with. If they said American then he would give them an American Airlines haircut. Or a Delta haircut if they were interviewing with Delta, etc. I asked Earl what the difference was and he answered that each haircut was the same haircut that he gave me but they thought he had some inside information to help them get the job.


      • Bob,
        That’s a funny story and Earl had a great sense of humor, and he totally understood what being an entrepreneur was all about.

        The last barber in my town closed when the barber died. He had inherited the business from his father and had started barbering with his father. None of his sons wanted to continue the business.

        I remember when I saw the first man at a stylist. I was amazed. Barbers didn’t do women’s hair so seeing a guy getting his hair cut in a salon was almost revolutionary. Now it is just commonplace.

  3. Coleen Says:

    Bob, thank you for reminding me of the days when my Dad’s shirts were done by a local laundry – with the cardboard sheet. Course when he didn’t need the sheet anymore, he gave it to me to draw on…sweet memory.

    My Dad worked for Fort Monmouth in New Jersey as an accountant. He had to dress up every day. The Fort is no more. It was shut down for good in 2012. I have absolutely no talent for numbers at all – – but, in a strange twist, as a reporter I cover the monthly meetings of the board that is assigned to parcel out the buildings that remain on the Fort’s property (it covers parts of three different towns). How weird is that? I wonder what my Pop would think? (He died in 1967.)

    And Kath, my favorite memories of my Dad involve weekends when he ran errands and nearly always wanted me to tag along. The corner store for his papers, the bakery, the barbershop – everywhere.

    Insofar as I know he never joined any organizations. Somehow it doesn’t seem like him to do that.

    Have a great weekend…

    Waving,

    Coleen


    • Coleen,
      We also used to use the cardboard sheets for drawing. I remember using water colors on it.

      My Dad was a salesman and the uniform of the day was white shirt, suit and tie. Outside it also meant a top coat and fedora. In my mind’s eye I see him coming home with his hat on.

      I think it is a wonderful coincidence. It is like a bit of an attachment to your Dad.

      I loved the Saturdays I went with him. I always was given a coke at his friend’s drugstore. The stools were the best to spin. At the laundry I watched a man iron a shirt with this huge machine you pressed on the shirt. The laundry was always humid.

      My Dad didn’t belong to any other organizations.

      Have a great Saturday and Sunday!!

      Waving right back!

  4. Birgit Says:

    Special Saturday in my hometown today, we celebrated the 50th birthday of our university. First a 3 miles long street party with about 100 000 people in all, afterwards a big open air party downtown with bad loud music. I could hear the distant rhythm in my garden and skipped that part except for the last 15 minutes. Finally a town video art performance on the wall of our townhall. It was a great Saturday! Now I’ll have to check my 571 photos…


    • Birgit,
      Sending congratulations to your university! My university celebrated its 50th in 2007 but no parades and no open air party. That would have been great fun!

      Only 571 pictures?


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