Archive for the ‘Iconic Swimsuits’ Category

A Burning Question

July 15, 2010

Are we where we are because of where we’ve been, or are we where we are because of where we’re going?

I’ve always pondered that question, but in a more technological sense. But more and more I’m thinking of it in a more sociological sense. I’m not sure when it started, but somewhere along the lines, hot coffee was involved. Somewhere along the way, there was a bad word someone said on television that someone else heard and raised hell because ‘how dare that type of behavior take place?’. And all throughout, it seems like everyone has lost the sense of responsibility for his own actions.

Take, for instance the drunk driving case from 2007 that suddenly is making the news. Spanish-speaking German Marquez was accused of being under the influence when he rear-ended another car at an intersection. His lawyer is claiming Marquez, who speaks only Spanish, did not understand the police officer’s  instructions in English to take a breathalyzer test and subsequently was wrongly cited for non-compliance to that as well as the DWI charge. The non-compliance charge carries a seven month license suspension which is concurrent with the three-month for the drunk driving charge. The lawyer argues he should not have been punished for something he didn’t understand. Now the consent statement (for the breath test) has been recorded in 10 languages for the police to play for a suspect.

Okay, so, how did he get his license in the first place? He obviously had to have studied a manual, and I’m sure the manual he studied from was written in Spanish. Is the point about consenting to a breathalyzer in there? I have to admit, I don’t know because when I was learning how to drive there was no such technology to worry about. It was the ability to walk a straight line and touch your nose while balancing on one foot and a theoretical equation to determine your blood/alcohol level. Is Marquez alone in the world? Doesn’t he have any friends or family or co-workers in his life who might tell him? And the biggest point, since when is ignorance above the law? I was taught that ignorance of the law is no excuse. So how does Señor Marquez figure he’s special?

Ah,  f**k it. You can’t say that on TV. Or can you? Maybe. On Tuesday, the U.S. Second Circuit Court of Appeals struck down the FCC’s broadcast indecency policy because the standards the commission use to monitor offensive language are ‘unconstitutionally vague’ and that the policy did not give broadcasters fair warning what is allowed and what isn’t.

I’m the furthest thing from being a prude, and every now and then hearing a slip up on a live TV show gives me a sort of rebellious thrill, but honestly, I don’t want to hear the F word said on One Life to Live on a daily basis. It’s enough that the word ‘bitch’ has gotten past the censors and there are days when it’s said almost as much as the word ‘amazing’. And after the first few dozen times of hearing it, it truly gets monotonous. Switching on the way back machine for a second, I remember watching the original run of Dark Shadows as a kid back in the ‘60’s and hearing Barnabas say ‘Hell’ and I thought it almost heroic, if not something I should hope my mother wouldn’t hear for fear she’d make me stop watching the show.

But in these days when everyone is up in arms about everything, it begs the question, are we regressing or advancing? Has everything gotten that complex that it’s impossible to keep up and so we’ve given up?  Yes, it’s the land of the free and all that, but shouldn’t this land be shown a little more respect than trying to tear it further down, limb by judicial limb? Is it really fair to kowtow to those who have a sense of entitlement because certain situations don’t fit their idyllic picture? It could be just about anything these days, from certain religious factions not wanting to conform to regulation policeman’s uniforms because of their headdress, to not letting kids “win” in  games so nobody gets their feelings hurt, to looking the other way in cases such as Marquez’?   Does it make sense to allow more profanity on television when parents are already rallying against its usage? Of course they expect the government to take care of everything so parents don’t have to come off as the bad guy and now the rest of us have to have huge TV ratings signs flash across the screen, as if seeing an “S” or an “L” will signal the kids that they must instantly turn off the show with too much sexual content  or harsh language? Is it too much to ask to let me say Merry Christmas, even though the next person might celebrate Hanukkah and he could simply say, “I’m Jewish” (or whatever) instead of getting all militant and stripping away my holiday spirit?  Damn it!

Oh well, here’s who was wearing this week’s bathing suit.

And, look who’s happy!

They’re here!

For Your Sweet Tooth

July 13, 2010

I’ve done everything I can think of to try to rectify it, but I think the time has come to call in the big boys. It was on the first day of my vacation when I found another leak in my basement, this time underneath my kitchen. We were working on those cornices I showed you yesterday (just so we could get them done and ready to install) and from behind me I could hear a hissing sound. I’d heard it before on occasion and by the time I figured out where it was coming from it would stop and dismissed it as a mouse rustling in something nearby and always meant to set a trap and never did. Well, it wasn’t a mouse, it was a big leak in the discharge hose from my dishwasher. When the machine would drain, water would shoot up like a geyser and run down the wall (and probably behind it). Well it must have been doing that for some time because the cleanup was monstrous once we got into it and then we had to go find a replacement hose. So, that’s fixed. And the gutters are fixed. But I’m still leaking water from somewhere and I doubt it’s coming from outside. It’s been dry as a bone. I just hope it’s not a pipe behind the wall but what else can it be at this point?

Let’s get into a sweet story now. When we were down in Asbury for the Fourth of July weekend, and we went into Candyteria. I snubbed the M & M display and then I spotted that one small shelf, kind of like a rack of poetry books in a bookstore. It was a bunch of old time candies, like Necco wafers, wax bottles, Razzles…oh my God, remember those?! How about Bottle Caps? I didn’t see them, but do you remember them?  I used to love the root beer ones.  But there was also Pop Rocks at Candyteria and packs of Charms hard candies, kind of like Lifesavers, but the square ones. I should have bought some of those. Then there was a display of the modern answer to Bonomo Turkish Taffy, Doscher’s French Chew. It’s been a while since I’d found out about Doscher’s and I even bought a bar at the Cracker Barrel in Ohio on our way home from our latest trip to Illinois, but their selection was very minimal and almost hidden. But here, in Asbury Park was an entire display, so I bought several bars of each flavor; chocolate, vanilla, banana and strawberry.

Then, the guy behind the counter, who looked to be quite a number of years younger than I (that’s me and my proper English) asked if I’d ever heard of Bonomo Turkish Taffy. Apparently he must have thought I was younger than he (I get that a lot…in my dreams.) and we got into this discourse about how close this Doscher’s is to the original. He then mentioned, if I were to come back in about two weeks, he’d have a stock of Bonomo Turkish Taffy and I became one big goosebump. It’s back and became available on June 21 of this year.

Of course, going back down there just for that (unless it was the only way to get it) was not an immediate option so I looked around online and sure enough, it’s available, unless it’s out of stock from several places and I ordered my box of 24 (6 of each flavor) from Amazon. You can also order it from Candy. com and Hometownfavorites .com.

So, that’s it. That’s the big find. For any of you old timers like me who remember it, it’s back. For those of you who never knew the joy of freezing a bar of turkish taffy and smacking it into bits on the kitchen table for easier sharing. And eating, as biting into it is a sure way to pull all your teeth. We didn’t care when we were kids. But my teeth cost me a small fortune and I’d like to keep them around for a while. And they are mine, the last payment was finally made, a little late and for a little bit more money because according to the fine print, if the total wasn’t paid off in a certain time frame, retroactive interest would be tacked on for the entire amount and there was one month our usual payment was split in half.

From candy to cheesecake: What Hollywood icon is trussed up in this severe binding structure of a bikini, circa 1942?

The Last Lament

July 1, 2010

It’s that time of year again, when my internal clock starts revving into action, but somewhere along the way, I lost my power source and my clock is flashing 12:00, 12:00, 12:00. Of course you know what I’m taking about; not going to Provincetown this year. Somewhere around the beginning of June I start getting little flashes, little vignettes that last a only a millisecond each, at first, of being at any given spot on Commercial Street. As the month wears on, the visions become a little longer and begin to invoke the memory of sounds and smells and tastes.

And for me, summer officially begins when we arrive in town, in time for breakfast at The Post Office Café, usually a ham and cheddar omelette, even though the cheddar ends up being something white and stretchy, probably provolone and no matter where you go in town and order cheddar that’s what you get. There’s also a gin bloody Mary and coffee with that breakfast. I know it’s the season of summer, but I’m taking about the attitude of summer. And conversely, it ends when we get home. Otherwise the time between June and Labor Day are just hot sticky and insufferable days.

Apparently, our decision to not go to Provincetown this year has sent a ripple through the time space continuum. Our friend Bobby we travel with each year decided to cancel his trip. He didn’t want to go without us. But we’ll get together with him closer to home this year and keep the tradition of celebrating the 4th with each other going.

Also part of the traditional drive is watching DVD’s along the way while reciting the dialogue, proper inflection and all. The essential travel DVD’s are “The Women” (1939), “All About Eve” and the “Housewarming” episode of I Love Lucy.

Oh yeah, and get this, you know that Massachusetts school board that wanted to make condoms available for all students, including first graders? It was Provincetown, as it turns out. But they’ve since rescinded that decision and will now make them available only to fifth graders and above. Phew!

So, we have a few irons in the fire to help pass the holiday weekend and then whatever we come up with to do for the rest of our vacation will just be played by ear. And the irony of it all is that we’re still waiting for the permits so the work on the house can begin, which was part of the reason we decided not to go. But more importantly it was the money we’d save by staying home. And I’ll just have to wait one more year for that orgasmic French Onion Soup at Ross’ Grill and my customary 1-1/4 pound boiled lobster clam bake at The Lobster Pot. Everything will taste better.

Yikes, I almost forgot to show you who was sporting that frilly yellow bikini in yesterday’s Iconic Bathing Suit picture.

It was Sally Field, looking all cute Gidgety. Or maybe that’s what Sister Bertrille wore under her habit so she could take an off-screen dip in Carlos Ramirez’ pool. But we like her. We really like her! 

There is also a new logo and quote for July on the main page. You can click here to see those and while you’re there, you can see if McGinty and company have come in from the strawberry patch yet.

Campfire Tales

June 30, 2010

I just came in from doing a little weeding in the stone patio in lieu of doing a regular workout downstairs, even though we remembered to fold up the tent’s rainfly this morning to open up my gym. It was a little later than I like to get started down there (I’m so regimented) and maybe it’s the mountain air but since we got back from camping, I’ve been kind of dragged out. Well, working in the fresh cool air did me some good this morning, I’ll tell you that and I feel like I can take on the world. Or at least this little helping of beef stroganoff leftovers from dinner last night I heated up for breakfast. So, either I’ll go move some stone this afternoon or go down to the dungeon and throw some weighs around.

I went to see my doctor yesterday for a follow-up from when I saw him a few weeks ago, the time when my cholesterol numbers and such all came in kind of high from the blood work and I have until November to get them down to where he wants them, through diet and lifestyle change, which I did once and I can do again. It’s just so hard now that the summer is here, the temptation for all sorts of no-no foods is so much greater; hamburgers and hot dogs, ice cream, deep fried oreos. Hmm, hold on, I’ll be right back. I just don’t want to go on any more daily medications that I have to. The blood pressure pill I take is quite sufficient.

 While the rainfly is down, I took this picture of my tent, which, as of this writing, is still parked in the garage and dry. I just though you might like to get a perspective of how big the new condo is. It reminded me of a few other things I never got to tell you yesterday about our weekend. You already know about the rain. It looks like the Rain Man of the Midwest didn’t get to his incantation or maybe his frequency got jammed. Either way, I’ll have to have a talk with him and see what’s up with that.

Rain aside, all wasn’t so rosy there at camp. There was a moment when it looked like the powers that be went overboard this time with upholding certain camp rules, one of which is ‘no unnecessary driving’. If you’re going to leave camp, say to go into town or any reason or to go down by the office to buy some firewood, that’s one thing, but they really frown upon simply driving around camp. After a camp party earlier Saturday afternoon, we ran into a guy we know who was obviously upset about something. ‘Dave, what’s the deal?’ we asked. We know a lot of Dave’s, it seems. One of them is turning 50 in October and we ran into another one in New Hope a few weekends ago, and one tells us how we’ll be missed in Provincetown this year, but I’m getting off the track. Oh, and the voice on the GPS on the cell phone is named David.

‘They got me,” camper Dave said, “the booted my car. You know how they don’t want you driving around. Well, sometimes I do it just to piss them off and when I got back from that party before, they put a boot on my car!” We prefer to not get caught up in camp politics, to not make waves, to just go, have a good time and come back home again, but this news really caught us to the quick. It was just so extreme a reaction from the management. We stood there talking for a while, listening to his story, thinking to ourselves that if this is the way things are going, well, we didn’t know what. When it seemed like we had him calmed down, we said our ‘see ya’s’ and continued on to our own site for some food.

Oh, we had a good laugh, that’s for sure. But we weren’t laughing as hard as when another friend, from Canada, this one oddly not named Dave, told us of the devastation another friend of his, also from Canada, endured from that recent earthquake there. Though Tim didn’t feel it himself, which was curious, because there were places in North Jersey that did; an office building was evacuated from it. This is the picture of the friend’s backyard. I’m making it small so it doesn’t hit you all at once, but if you click on it, it will open to full size.

Okay, one last picture for today. Can you tell who belongs to this iconic swimsuit from 1965? Answer tomorrow!