Modest Mussorgsky’s Piano Symphony, “Pictures at an Exhibition,” famously features ten relatively brief, separate, and distinct musical movements portraying the varying emotions of a visitor to an art museum viewing in succession separate works of art. The emotionally differentiated music varies in tone, tempo, and style relative to the subject of the respective painting. In an analogous reprise of this dynamic, we have sought to create, for some contemporarily needed diversion, an imaginative and nostalgic tour of a fictional antique store,( or as in the title of the Charles Dickens, novel, an “Old Curiosity Shop,”) with some commentary. The period of reference is 1940-1950.
[The “Egg Cream.”] This now seldom-encountered beverage was an aficionado’s distinct gourmet specialty, but definitionally reliant on a skilled and experienced preparer (i.e., “soda jerk”). The traditional contents were simple, chocolate syrup, milk (in the required proportion), and fountain seltzer. Empirical success in the replication of the reverenced and legitimate “egg cream,” was vitally dependent upon the aesthetic sensitivity and skill of a dedicated soda jerk, who, (like the stereotypic violin virtuoso, dressed in formal wear), was traditionally garbed, in a white hat and apron. Such soda fountain artists, before delivering to the marble counter to present the customer with the requested beverage, would in an existentially important manner, discharge the seltzer to initially hit the curved back of a long-handled spoon as he gently mixed the contents successfully producing the definitional texture to the resultant, smooth and vitally bubbly “egg cream.”
[The “spaldeen”] The possession of a pink rubber ball was fundamental to the street life of the city-dwelling young boy. It was ubiquitously essential for handball, stickball, punchball, stoopball, racquetball, catch, or just bouncing. In less prosperous neighborhoods where more elegant sports were not featured, the quintessential item was the rubber ball, termed by street youth, a “spaldeen” (“Spaulding”) as distinguished from the more economically privileged use of its fancier cousin, encased in some specious of fibrous material suitable for the desired aerodynamics in the sport of tennis, but dynamically undesirable for handball, stoopball and other sundry contests of impecunious City youth.
During wartime, our father, a hardworking immigrant, did his best to support the family in a time of economic stress, “splurged” one day, and surprised us by bringing home a ball (rubber was scarce, expensive, and rationed during wartime) as a special present. Our initial delight was followed by our (provincial) disappointment in the discovery that it was a tennis ball. The next day we energetically spent considerable time, (ungratefully) rubbing off the covering by abrading it against the concrete sidewalk to access the underlying, desired, and utilitarian rubber ball (the “spaldeen”).
[The eggbeater] This memorable and useful hand appliance is still available albeit, seldom used, in contemporary times. As known, it consisted of circular metal discs, placed somewhat in circular opposition, activated and spun in tandem, responsive to turning a small handle on the grip;, thus causing a circular mixing or beating action for the culinary processing of eggs, baking ingredients, and the like. The art of food preparation has seen a multitudinous variety of efficient mixers, ranging from complex stationary devices to mechanical and hand-held, rendering the utility of the traditional eggbeater retrogressive and, apparently, culturally passé. We are, affirmatively in favor of culinary progress but will admit to the nostalgic feeling of singular prowess derived from personally whipping cream and other dynamically transforming comestibles.
[Radio, galoshes, hairbrush, hair pomade]
We can reminiscently recall the singular, central importance of the family radio. It was, in our early days, installed in a prominent item of living room or parlor furniture, featuring a cloth-like covered opening for the transmission of sound. In the relevant period, it was the family venue after Sunday dinner to jointly receive news of the European war and also enjoy the regular Sunday evening programs, such as “The House of Mystery,” and “Nick Carter” (detective) as well as the established comedies, “The Great Gildersleeve,” “Jack Benny” and “Fred Allen.” The extinction of this practice, commensurate with the radical changes in the perception and function of the family, is noted in an earlier writing, “Radio Days.” Later on, we saw its smaller, non-furniture iteration and thereafter the ubiquitous, sometimes, loudly intrusive use of the hand-held, battery-operated “portable radio.”
We do not see galoshes (what is the derivation of that cacophonous name?) very much in recent days. These cumbersome, rubber, latch-closing, wide, half boots were universal as rainy footwear during the relevant period. The receipt of visitors on a rainy day would predictably evince, at the inside of the front door, small puddles of water and an aggregation of skewed wet black rubber. Young school-age children were innately adept at losing one of their pair of galoshes.
Hair dressings, including pomade and various oils (remember “Brilliantine”), long ago descended from the analogous wildlife status of “endangered” to “extinct,” with the change in tonsorial sensitivities. Men’s hairbrushes do persist, although mandatorily short stiff -haired, while in contrast, long-haired brushes are still flourishing in positive numbers and salubrious health for our sisters.
[Roller Skates]
Our virtual Curio Shop contains specimens of metal skates, popularly used and seen on city streets and sidewalks by young people. The metal skates were fixed to the skater’s shoes by metal clasp-like attachments at the toes. Skating on the sidewalk was a stimulating foot-vibrating experience, but safer than smooth rolling on the asphalt street; cobblestones were a definite “no-go.”
During the contextual period, more decorous skating (to background music) was conducted at large public “Skating Rinks” and performed on a smoothly polished wooden floor. The rented skates were permanently affixed to fitted shoes. The antique store has pragmatically limited this building-size antique phenomenon to illustrative period photographs.
There appears to be a presenting scarcity of permissible dimension left to our traditional form of blog-style recitation of antique curios, in sheer contrast to a virtually unlimited quantity of relevant items gone retro. Thus, in order not to exceed the permissible dimensions of the classic blog, such items may be addressed by way of supplementary writings if desired.
-p.
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