Wednesday, April 6, 2022

Remembering Fish Friday For The Wrong Reason

 

I was never a big fan of fish.  As a kid in a Catholic home, I assumed eating fish during the Lenten season was a form of penance.  My mother would probably have agreed with that– but not about eating the fish. The penance for her was getting her kids to eat fish.

Catholics have abstained from eating meat on Fridays since the earliest times. The reasons may have changed over the centuries but the practice remains.  In the early days, forgoing meat was forgoing a luxury. This was especially true in the Middle East, where meat was scarce and fish was plentiful.  Ironically, fish is now the luxury and meat is more or less affordable. 

The tradition of abstaining from meat never required one to eat fish.  That memo never reached our home so every Friday during Lent we had fish.  Of course, the 1960’s were the peak of processed foods.  We never had fresh fish but the canned tuna and salmon harvest in our home was plentiful.

Tuna was the preferred choice for my brother and I. Thank goodness for Chicken of the Sea. It somehow tasted less like fish. Fortunately, I never made the connection between their logo – a mermaid - and the can of fish.  Even so, mom had to disguise the fish as tuna casserole with cream sauce and peas.  Apparently, this most popular family dish was created by Campbells Soup in the 1940s although fish parts in crème sauce was an old 1800’s dish called cod a la bechamel.

Salmon came straight from the can in patties much like SpongeBob’s crabby patties. The best part of salmon cakes was the potato pancakes mom served with them.  The “pancakes” were served with applesauce. For a kid who gagged on salmon, two full tablespoons of applesauce helped the salmon go down.

Fish sticks could also be consumed with a generous amount of catsup or mashed potatoes. General Foods introduced fish sticks in 1953 under their Birdseye brand. They were part of a rectangular food stick line that included chicken sticks, ham sticks, veal sticks and dried lima bean sticks – egad. Only fish sticks survived and became the preferred choice in many countries where the quality of fish was suspect. Fish sticks also solved a bigger problem. Fishing technology after WWII led companies to overfish. To keep from spoiling, the extra fish was processed into frozen sticks - Yum.

Abstaining from meat on Fridays for Catholics became optional in 1966 when U.S. Bishops allowed members to replace the abstinence with other forms of penance. There was little argument from our household.  Fish Fridays soon became Pizza Fridays and all was good with the world. I haven’t eaten a salmon cake since.

It was never about fish of course. It was about abstaining from something we desire to focus our thoughts on more important things. It’s a big month for that as Christians prepare for Easter, Jews celebrate Passover and Muslims prepare for Eid al-Fitr, a feast that follows one month of fasting and reflection. Happy celebrations to all our Allen neighbors.

Send comments to flipsidecolumn@gmail.com.


Wednesday, March 23, 2022

Rediscovering The Wonder and Torment of Plastic Models

 

   This time will be different.  I’m a grownup and I know how to follow directions.

   With that in mind, I have decided to tackle one of my childhood demons – the 1:25 scale plastic car model.  After all, how hard can it be to finish building a level 2 plastic car model?  The answer depends on how you would define the word finish.

   I built a fleet of car models in my life.  It was a boredom buster for my friends and I in the days before video games. We would ride bikes to the 5 and 10 (cent) store and pick out a cool model along with a few jars of Testors paint and a new tube of glue. With the hopefulness of a Cowboys fan in August, we’d race home, stack a few Beatles lps on the turntable and crack open the box of wonder. 

   Whether we were building a Model A Roadster or a hot rod Cadillac Hearse (seriously), the modeling process for 11-year-olds was the same.  Ignore the directions and start painting stuff.  The results were predictable but satisfactory for an 11-year-old who had lost interest about halfway through the project.

   Five and dime stores no longer exist. Neither do $3 plastic car models. Model prices now range from $25 - $40. Surprisingly, many of the actual models have not changed at all.  Model kit companies like AMT, Monogram and MPC have been bought and sold since the 1960’s but the actual molds and packaging have survived. The model I chose to rebuild my confidence; a 1960 Ford Starliner, was probably designed and molded sixty years ago.

   I say that I never finished a model because every time I assembled one, I was left with a pile of spare parts. There was a usually a water pump and a rocker arm, a few shock absorbers and a radiator hose left over.  That stuff was hidden anyway, right?

   The most dangerous but most satisfying part of the project was painting the car body.  Years of bad paint jobs have finally convinced me to follow paint instructions this time.  I watched a YouTube video and followed the advice of “professional modelers.”  Did you know you are supposed to wait for one coat to dry before applying the second coat?  

   Glue was the biggest hurdle for me. No matter how careful I was, there was always a smudge of glue somewhere on the “glass” windshield.  I recently watched an enlightening YouTube video on that as well. This time it will be different!

   Models weren’t much fun once they were completed but I never had the heart to throw them in the garbage. Years later when we were married, I wisely recognized that my childhood car models would not be part of the new home decorations.  I stacked them in a big pile and photographed them before sending them to the junkyard for good.  They all had one thing in common – a chubby fingerprint on the front or back windshield and a lousy paint job.

   This time I will build a model with all of the parts and no chubby fingerprints – probably. I will keep you posted.

   Send comments about your car model experiences to flipsidecolumn@gmail.com.


Wednesday, March 2, 2022

 

I withheld comment recently when someone on Facebook posted photos of the “ice storm” that shut down schools and highways in Dallas last month. Others were not so kind.

In fairness, it was a thin but solid sheet of ice that covered everything. The photo didn’t really tell that story and several readers mocked the phrase ice storm.  It really was more of an ice dusting but one person’s storm is another person’s dusting I suppose.

There is a sense of pride or smugness when it comes to telling tales about surviving terrible winter weather.  Bragging about the weather is an unsanctioned sport in coffee shops and office lounges “up north.”.  Most tales start with “It was so cold that….”  They often end with someone else saying “that’s nothing. I remember when…”  Eventually the group nods in approval that the final tale depicts the coldest, longest, or snowiest storm ever.

The title of worst winter storm, according to numerous sources, belongs to the Great Blizzard of 1888.  The storm hit the northeastern states in March 1888. It caused more than $20 million in property damage (about $550 million today) and killed more than 400.  New York City was buried under 22” of snow. Further north, cities were hit with up to 50” of snow in two days.  Wind gusts up to 80 mph buried buildings, horses and people under massive snow drifts.  Now that’s a storm to remember or forget.

There’s a bonding that occurs when several people experience the same storm, even though it may have happened fifty years ago. The really bad storms are etched in people’s memory in much the same way hurricanes and tornadoes mark history for hundreds of years.

Everyone has a good winter storm story. Texans may have felt left out of that conversation until February 2021 when the temperature dropped way down and millions lost power.  Winter storm Uri, as it was named, has the dubious distinction of being the costliest winter storm on record with $196.5 billion in damages.  My memory was more localized as I fought the ice flow in my pool for a week with a large wooden pole.

My personal winter storm brag is surviving the Chicago blizzard of 1982.  A week of snow was followed by extreme low temperatures of -26 degrees on January 10 and high winds that pushed the wind chill to -80 below.  The weatherman didn’t mince words when he said “if you go outside you and your pets might die.” It was good advice.  It was so cold… that ice formed on the inside of some walls of our home.  I should mention that it was a rental.

A temperature of -26 sounds darn cold but residents of Fargo, North Dakota will brag that their grandparents survived -48 degrees in the late 1800’s.  Then again, workers on the Alaskan pipeline recorded a balmy -80 degrees in 1971. Let’s just hope the storm tales are over for this season and we can get onto bragging about the heat.  Did you now that it was so hot in Texas last summer that…

Send comments and your own storm brags to flipsidecolumn@gmail.com.


Wednesday, December 23, 2020

Christmas Wish List

 

Dear Santa – Please bring me a gas-powered plane like the one on the back of Boys Life Magazine. It’s ok if I don’t get anything else.  I did lose the football I got last year, and battery acid ruined my Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea submarine but I really, really want that airplane.

   Santa never personally responded.  Neither did my parents.  The response came on Christmas morning when “the package” wasn’t an airplane. It was actually a Spirograph set that lasted me for years but that wasn’t the point in 1966. I really wanted that plane.

   All of us have experienced that moment of disappointment – even on the most exciting day of the year.

   Parents prepare their children for many of life’s letdowns but when it comes to Christmas morning, kids are pretty much out on their own.  After all, it’s Santa magic that brings all the toys. “Don’t look at me,” they are thinking.  

   Almost everyone has a tale of Christmas morning surprise. A New Jersey friend told of the year he begged Santa for a NY Yankees jersey. Santa brought him a NY Mets jersey.  My guess is that the Mets gear was discounted because they were the worst team in baseball. That reminds me, Dallas Cowboys gear is on sale at Kohls.

   I deserve some blame as well.  For years my kids hoped Santa would deliver a motorized ride-on car. Every visit to Toys R Us included a trip to the car aisle where they would sit in every car and dream of the day Santa deposited one in our living room. They never got one probably because we regularly watched the dumb things do with them on America’s Funniest Home Videos.

   I don’t think any of us are bitter.  Every toy that Santa brought and every gift our parents wrapped was bought with love.  There was just a communications breakdown somewhere along the way.

   My suggestion would be to create an online pdf form that kids fill out with wish list items, rationale and budget estimates – just like their parents do.

  I recently saw a Facebook post of “The Sears Christmas 1963 Wishbook.” There was Mr. Machine, “the comical walking robot who swings his arms.”  I really, really wanted one of those.  Scanning the page, I found many other items of 7-year-old desire. So here is my unfinished Christmas list for 2020 with 1960’s prices.

   Dear Santa – If you have time, please bring me a Schwinn Stingray Bicycle ($49), Mr. Kelly’s Car Wash for my Matchbox Cars ($5.99), a wood burning set ($5.89), the 190 piece D-Day Combined U.S. Air and Ground Invasion Force with Exploding Mechanisms ($5.89), Matchbox City heat sealed and vacuum formed highways and overpasses ($7.99), G.I. Joe Splashdown Space Capsule - G.I. Joe not included – ($9.49) and the Lost In Space Robot with Blinking Lights and Movable Arms ($6.88).

   I’d give them all up for a gas airplane though but the Spirograph was actually very cool.  Thanks Santa mom and dad.


Wednesday, August 12, 2020

Last Minute College Advice

 

Hundreds of Allen kids headed off to college this week. If they are Allen High School graduates, they are well prepared for the academics. My concern is how they will cope with dormitory (or luxury apartment) life.

   Having successfully completed college myself in the 1970’s, I feel a responsibility to share my experience with younger parents and college freshmen.

   For example, did you remind your daughter not to leave cassettes on the dashboard where they will melt? Would your son remember to pack some extra Hai Karate in case the college bookstore ran out?  You can see why I’m worried.

   Here are some tips that worked for me and should help your college bound kids as well.

1.    You will be sharing a phone with at least three others so write down all of your calls.

2.    Always reverse the charges when calling your parents.

3.    Call your girlfriend or boyfriend after 11 p.m. on Sunday nights for the best rate.

4.    Avoid embarrassment by turning all of your Carpenters and Abba records backwards so your friends don’t spot them.

5.    Leave James Taylor and Cat Stevens records around your dorm room when girls visit. They like sensitive stuff like that.

6.    Playing Dark Side of the Moon at 45 rpm will pick up any dorm party.

7.    Milk crates make excellent record racks and coffee tables.

8.    Make sure your bell bottoms are properly frayed before leaving for college.  Cigarette ashes rubbed into the legs also give them a weathered look.

9.    Bring extra batteries for your transistor radio.

10.  Aluminum foil balls on the rabbit ears will expand your television reception.

11.  Never buy a used Chevy Vega – even if it looks like a really good deal.

12.  It is better to weigh down your turntable arm with dimes instead of quarters to get a clearer sound.

13.  Never stack more than three albums or they will start to slide.

14.  Electrical tape is expensive.  Masking tape makes a good substitute on stereo cables.

15.  Use the Herbal Essence Shampoo I gave you – girls dig it.

16.  Leave the galoshes home.  Bring Totes instead.

17.  Pumas…not Adidas…

18.  Keep your Navy peacoat dry – it smells when it gets wet.

19.  When attending campus demonstrations, carry a dime to make a phone call if you get arrested.

20.  You might rethink the Nixon/Agnew sticker on your bumper.

21.  Platform shoes are for high school proms, not college. Earth shoes are a much more practical solution.

22.  A summer job paying $1.75 an hour should be enough to pay for two semesters of college.

23.  Make sure you gas up on your odd or even day before driving back home.

24.  Beer cans and wine bottles make lousy decorations no matter what your friends say.

25.  Remember – there is more to life than Pong. Don’t let the video game disrupt your studies.


Wednesday, July 15, 2020

Progressive Dining For Kids

 I don’t think I ever thanked Mrs. Costa or Mrs. Casey for all those lunches and dinners. I’m sure I said “thanks” but I still owe both of them a big THANK YOU for so many meals.

Grubbing a meal at your friend’s house was usually more about the inconvenience of leaving than the allure of a different home cooked meal.  Maybe we just got the slot car track set up in Gary Costa’s basement or Tom Casey and I were engaged in a touch football game out front.  Either way, staying over for a meal meant the fun would continue after lunch or dinner.

Running home for a quick meal opened the risk that your own mother would require you to clean your room or some equally horrible task before you could go back out and play. The odds were better if you just stayed away a few more hours.

There was more strategy in a meal request than you would imagine from an 11-year-old.  Gary’s father, for example, got home from work early and dinner at the Costa’s started around 4:30.  My father didn’t get home until 5:45 so dinner at the Carroll’s was always at 6 p.m.  On a good night we could score a nice Italian dinner at the Costa’s and ride our bikes to my house in time for some roast beef.

If one of the dinner’s was a loser on our rating scale – we promptly made plans to eat at the other house.  The trick was finding out what each mom was cooking before announcing our evening plans.

The conversation started with Gary asking “mom, can Timmy stay for dinner.”  “He needs to call his mother first,” she would shout down the stairs. “Hi mom, can I eat dinner at Gary’s?  Mrs. Costa says it’s alright,” I would say on the phone.  “Ok but make sure you thank her and be home by 8,” she would respond.

Strangely enough there was always enough food at both houses as though our mothers knew we would be inviting company.  Moms are smart like that.

As I got older, I spent many hours at Tom Casey’s home killing time in those years when we were too old for toys and too young for a summer job.  PlayStation would have filled that gap so well but we settled on endless games of Cribbage and Chess and even Pong.

Even though she was cooking for eight children, Mrs. Casey never blinked at adding one or two at the end of the bench. On any given night, there was probably one or two Casey’s working or enjoying meals at friend’s homes just like we were, so it probably evened out.

I don’t remember what Mrs. Costa or Mrs. Casey cooked but I do remember there was always a friendly conversation that made me feel like one of the family. It was a glimpse into other people’s homes and routines and I don’t think I ever appreciated it enough. So, thank you moms for all those surprise meals and kindness.   By the way, “do you mind if I sleep over tonight? I have a room back home that needs to be cleaned!”


Wednesday, May 27, 2020

Social Distancing at the St. Vincent's Prom

 

   A phrase that will stick with us far longer than COVID-19 is social distancing. In simple terms – keep a safe distance from each other.

   That was the same advice given to me by one of the Sisters of Charity at my first prom in 1973.  She had no need to worry.  My prom date was also a blind date.

   Not a single picture survives – at least in my home – but it’s hard to forget the night I took a total stranger to her junior prom.

   Joanne, a counselor friend from summer camp had unexpectedly asked my friend Bill to the St. Vincent’s Academy junior prom in Newark (NJ).  “By the way could you get Tim to come along so my friend can have a date for the prom as well.,” she asked.

   Joanne presented a convincing argument as she explained that dates were hard to get at her all-girls school.  Bill and I agreed, secretly enjoying the fact that any girls were paying attention to us.  Looking back, it might have been helpful to first ask a few questions.

   A pre-prom date was arranged so we met Joanne and her friend Mary at a movie theater to watch the current must-see movie: The Poseidon Adventure.  A disaster movie turned out to be the perfect backdrop.  I am not exaggerating when I offer that Mary said ten words that evening. 

   I knew almost nothing about Mary when I showed up at her home for the prom two weeks later.  While Bill waited in the car outside, I found myself facing her mother, father, grandmother, sister and aunt in the small living room.

   A nice Essex boy was taking their daughter to the prom and everyone had dropped by to take photos.  I hadn’t been warned about this part of the special evening and I posed uncomfortably for photos careful to keep my social distance.

   Dancing was never one of my strong suits so I was pleased that my date preferred not to dance either.  That left plenty of time for conversations that rarely occurred.  Instead we awkwardly watched the dance from the sidelines admiring the Stairway to Heaven themed decorations and listening to the band.  Nuns and chaperones conveniently located around the ballroom ensured that social distancing guidelines were followed.

   Unlike many blind date stories, this one has no surprise ending.  We drove the girls home and pleasant words were exchanged. No promises were made to get together and we never saw the girls again. 

   Bill and I figured that it could have been much worse.  Looking back, I would imagine that Joanne and Mary felt the same way.  It was good dry run for all of us with no unfortunate consequences. 

   Still, I wonder if my photo rests in her mother’s old photo album with the caption “guy who took Mary to the prom and never called again.”  It’s not likely.