Like Mother, Like Daughter

This was a hoot.

My daughter is Junior Girl Scout. She asked about my scouting experience. It didn't take long before we were digging out my old uniform, and even a formal portrait of me in that uniform.

My daughter couldn't resist putting it on. We discovered that the sash was not the same as in the photo, and we've since learned that it is my sister's old sash. (I was certain that I had earned a sewing badge, which I then promptly SuperGlued - along with all subsequent badges - to my sash! There were no glued badges on this sash, and there were other differences as well which are obvious in the photo.) So aside from the sash, , it is otherwise the exact same outfit! Right down to the ring on my right hand, which I just happened to still have. The coloring between the two images is a bit off due to fading of the original portrait (probably around 1975). We had a blast posing her like the original, then I did a little Fireworks magic to put it all together.

She also enjoyed going through my other GS gear. The biggest hits were my official GS canteen (water bottles are a big improvement, but the canteen has a true retro factor now) and my official GS pocket knife.

I loved being a Girl Scout. You could get badges for the most interesting things. For example, I got a Collector's Badge. The item I collected: Tic Tac boxes.

This Ginger Snap Was No Cookie

I went to school with a boy named Harold Snap.

He had a little sister named Ginger.

No kidding. For real.

And the Snaps were members at the same swim club as my family, where I worked a variety of jobs as a kid. For a couple of summers, I worked in the snack bar, serving up tasty hot dogs and candy bars and sno-cones. Next to the snack bar was the basket room, which was situated at the entrance and where you signed in. You could also put your stuff in a basket, which is why it was called the basket room. There was a pay phone, and kids got phone calls all the time...a parent checking in with them, or a friend maybe. When someone got a phone call, the person working in the basket room would have to go to the PA system (which was otherwise playing the radio) and announce the phone call.

So I would be working in the snack bar, and the day-time manager (who happened to be a friend of my mom's and one of the Fat Sisters) would yell over to me..."Leslie, you have to come over here. Ginger got a phone call." She just couldn't say that name with a straight face and would start laughing, so I always had to announce Ginger's phone calls.

Off I would go to the basket room side of our little building, and I would get on the PA system and announce..."Ginger Snap, you have phone call...telephone call for Ginger...Snap."

Paris Hume

When I was in High School in Greenbrier County, WV, we had a principal who had a special way of saying things. His name was Paris Hume, Jr.

Here are some of my favorites. The wording may not be perfect, but close enough!

• Announcement over load speaker for entire school: "Attention, teachers. We are working on the loadspeaker system. If any of you can not hear this message, please send a student to the office to let us know so we can fix the speaker in your room."
• Announcement over load speaker for entire school: "The National Honor Society will be selling shirts in the lobby, and they are available in a variety of colors. Blue, yellow, red, green and lieutenant greent."
• To his fellow officials at the football game (yes, he also served as an athletics official): "Gentleman, let's circumcise our watches."
• To the superintendant of schools regarding an difficult issue of some sort: "I was on needles and threads all day long."
• To the teachers in his school: "In order to save money, we need to cut back on the number of carbonated pencils we use."
  

The Best HS Team Name

My favorite team name for a High School goes to:

The Dots of Poca High School in Poca, WV (Putnam County).

That's right...they are the Poca Dots.

Go Dots!

George & the French Whore

My mom has a gang of friends. They call themselves the Fat Sisters. One of the Fats is name Jenny, and her husband's name is George. This exchange is quite typical of Jenny and George.

George: That woman's perfume makes her smell like a French whore.

Jenny: Now, George. How could you possibly know what a French whore smells like?

Monclair Hot Dogs

One of my favorite things in life is a Monclair Hot Dog.

You can't get them any more. But I still remember them.

My family was a member of the Montclair Bath and Tennis Club (basically, the neighborhood pool) in Roanoke, VA from sometime in the 1960's through 1980, when we moved to WV.

Having worked in just about all capacities at Montclair when I was a teenager, I am privvy to makings of a Montclair Hot Dog. The snack bar served up a number of grill items, and had this great hot dog and bun machine. It was essentially a glass box divided in the middle. One side held hot dogs, and the other side held buns. Each side had it's own lid, and you plugged it in to create a nice steam for both sides. I'm thinking there was a water tray underneath, but that detail has faded with time.

I'm not sure what brand of dogs and buns we used, but they were tasty. You put together a dog with a bug, placed it in the cardboard holder and wrapped with paper. Chili, cheese, onions or slaw could be added...I liked mine plain usually, or with chili and cheese.

I also loved the Monclair Grilled Cheease. It was fabulous too. May a separate post on it sometime.

Alas, the Monclair Bath and Tennis Club closed down a number of years ago. I have been making do with Snoopy's Hot Dogs these days.

The Fat Sisters

My mom has this gang of friends who call themselves the Fat Sisters. They came together in the 1960's in Roanoke, VA. They also have called themselves the Happy Home Harmonizers, which made for a great sign on the side of the van on one of their annual trips to Myrtle Beach in the 1970's.

The Fat Sisters include Joan, Jenny, Jackie, June, Carol, Debbie, Mickey and Mary. Their spouses are the Fat Husbands, and their grandchildren are called Grand-Fats. For some reason, the folks at my generation - the children of the Fat Sisters - don't have any special name. Probably because of the trauma of just being children of the Fat Sisters.

The Fat Sisters had the whole "gang of women friends" thing locked down well before the Ya-Yas or the Sweet Potato Queens. I think the youngest Fat Sister is now about 65.

The Fat Sisters have been thrown out of restaurants, are apt to laugh during wedding ceremonies and funerals alike, take naked pictures of each other purely to embarass each other, and get lost during road trips.

And, for the record, not all of the Fat Sisters are fat. In fact, the smallest one (who is quite thin), is referred to as a Step-Sister.