Leftovers I Love You

Leftovers, I love you
You’re very nutritious
At least, that’s what I tell folks
And no one’s suspicious,

‘Cause Thanksgiving’s great feast
Like a culinary isthmus*
‘Twixt Halloween and Yuletide
Means leftovers ’til Christmas:

There’s turkey in pieces
And some pie the cat found
And strange Tupperwared veggies
Left lying around -

There’s some cold mashed potatoes
And cranberry jelly
So get out the mustard
Don’t go out to some deli!

Hot Dan to the rescue
With condiments galore
Will drown out the boredom
And make you eat more!

So throw it on sandwiches,
Trifle and custard
Clear out the whole fridge
By mustering the mustard

Leftovers, I love you
You are mighty appealing
Though the turkey is dry
And the stuffing’s congealing

For you sit on the table
When the family comes looking
For something for dinner
And I don’t feel like cooking.

[This 1949 ad comes to you courtesy of TJS Labs.]

*And isthmus? Well, something has to rhyme with Christmas, right? It means a narrow bit of land connecting two big land masses. It doesn’t work, completely. But it stays for now, because it’s Monday. Always blame Monday, I say!

Oh, and for more Hot Dan, you can go on over and see these leftover posts:

Hot Dan the Mustard Man
Hot Dan Redux

The Ballad of the Sad Macramé

Who knew that even macramé items could feel such poignant sadness? Or anything, for that matter.

Meet the Wistful Purse and the Wistful Belt. They have been hanging off a tree since 1977, in a lovely book called Macramé Enchantment. But they are not enchanted! They are wistful. Full of wist! Longing for all the good times they used to have back inside the house, lying on the couch watching a little TV, having a snack or two, maybe even getting worn out to a few parties.

And now? They are full of nothing! They’re all hung up. And if you think they’re unhappy, just imagine what that tree must be feeling. You just know that all the other trees are laughing their heads off at this.

All Kooped Up

Well, once you give your baby a nice bottle of Seven-Up – and you burp them, don’t forget that!  – you’re going to want to let them have a nice nap. Where do you – the modern mother of 1950 – put that baby?

Why, coop that kid up in a Kiddie Koop, of course! Just like the proverbial chicken coop, this lidded crib is just the sort of personal space your baby needs.

It also seems to double as a tanning bed, judging from the light emanating from it. You can use that later, when the kid wakes up and needs a little Vitamin D (because you know he isn’t getting any in that Seven-Up, let’s be honest).

It comes with a nice Hairflex mattress, too – boy, doesn’t that sound comfy? Just don’t forget to give your baby a couple of Reader’s Digests or something when you pop him in the Koop – because it might get a tiny bit boring in there, inside the box.

The advertisement for this astonishing device, dating from 1950, is from Duke University’s Protestant Family advertising collection.

The Mystery of the Flaming Canned Fruit

Well, first of all, it is Flaming Fruit. Not Flaming Youth.

And not only that, it’s Flaming Diet Fruit. You see, I thought that the point of the flambé was to caramelize the sugar in a food  – you know, like fresh fruit. Or to finish off crepes doused in brandy or something.

So let me pose a scientific question to you:

What will happen when this soggy canned fruit (and believe me, the stuff out of the can will be WAY soggier than the fruit in the ad) – drenched in Sucaryl, is stuck on a skewer and set on fire?

Actually, I don’t really know. But I’ll bet it doesn’t look anything like this picture. What do you think?

This little post was brought to you thanks to a lovely ad from – yet again! – Life magazine, October 15, 1965.The big version is here.

Another Friday, Another Fill-In!

 This looks like it’s going to be a wonderful issue of Secret Hearts! The cover story – look – it’s called “Another Face, Another Love.” How many other faces? How many loves? Nobody really knows.

What on earth is going on here?

Julia says: Jed, are you going to let what Mavis said stand in our way?

And Jed replies: Yes, Julia, it’s true isn’t it?

You see, Jed is Green. And Julia is Yellow – her hair, her clothes and her face. But Mavis – wicked, wicked Mavis – is Blue.

And Blue plus Yellow make – Green, right? So…that means….I don’t know what it means. It was an extraordinarily busy day yesterday (not Thanksgiving-wise, since I’m in Canada – but we were busy anyway, just not with turkey et al) and I was going to do some Friday Fill-Ins here but I couldn’t think of a thing. They were like Zen koans. What do I want to do on Sunday? What is shadowy and ominous?

Well, Mavis, of course. Shadowy and ominous – and Blue. Wait! I know. I will do the Friday Fill-Ins with this cover as a theme (this only just occurred to me). Stay right there! The filled-in bit is the bold type, the regular type is the original question. I bet you knew that though.

1. Wait! Wait, don’t forget to take your hand out of your pocket, Jed.
2. Julia knows that her plea will be followed at once by an evil cackle from Mavis.
3. The trouble is that he’s torn between two primary colors.
4. And Jed wishes that he was many miles away.
5. With a faint pop Mavis’ Munster wig will soon come off, if Julia has anything to say about it.
6. Mavis enjoys being shadowy and ominous.

[This last one seems to be couched in the first person so I will just do that as me. We'll leave Jed, Julia and Mavis to sort themselves out this weekend, though my hopes aren't high...]

7. And as for the weekend, tonight I’m looking forward to sitting down and reading a book for once , tomorrow my plans include shopping and going to a concert and Sunday, I want to not do laundry but this seems unlikely.

A Talked-About Holiday Hostess

Oh, you’ll be talked about, all right. And you know what they’re going to be saying about you?

“Boy, Sally sure is obsessed with that Reddi-Wip! Can you keep her away from me for a minute? I really, really don’t want any on my Brussels sprouts.”

Sally is all tuckered out from Thanksgiving. I guess that’s her excuse. She’s been up since 6 am fighting with a turkey’s innards. She’s been chopping and slicing and dicing and baking. And now – now you’re all going to pay!

Reddi-Wip must go on everything. You have a piece of cake or pie? It’s going to get a blast from Sally’s magic can. And you folks over there, the slowpokes who are still chowing down on stuffing and mashed potatoes and turkey wings? Guess what you’ve got coming to you!

So talk all you want. Sally knows just what you need. And you’re lucky she isn’t doing any face painting with it. Yet.

Happy Thanksgiving! And watch out for Sally and her Dessert Sensations.

[From Life, November 22, 1943.]

And many thanks to my friend Heidi, who presides over the wonderful kitschenfeast, for the Kreativ Blogger award!

The Candlelight Dinner

Ah, dinner by candlelight. And dinner of candlelight, too.

This is the ultimate incarnation of the Candle Salad of the 1940s on, which, as you may recall, involved a banana, a pimiento wick and dollops of mayo. And other things, too, sometimes, like pineapple rings and cherries. But here in the super-modern 1960s, we have to do better! We must mold cranberry/mayo gel in cylinders (maybe we can use the Ocean Spray cranberry jelly cans) and then sticking birthday candles on top.

They really do look awfully realistic, don’t they? Awful being the operative word, I believe. Would you love to see this at your place at Thanksgiving?

What are you looking forward to seeing, if not an edible candle at Thanksgiving? I’m in Canada now, so we had our Thanksgiving back in October, but when I was a kid in New York, I favored the stuffing and a slice of that cranberry jelly, sans mayo and birthday candle of course.

Hope you all have a splendiferous time tomorrow, whatever you’re doing Thanksgiving-wise. I’ll be posting a lovely Thanksgiving-themed post over at Kitchen Retro tomorrow, so I hope to see you there, maybe while you let someone else clear up and do those dishes…

[This is from Life, November 14, 1960. Here's the bigger version in case you'd like to know exactly how this magic was, er, wrought. And here's a link to the variation Chanukah Candle Salad, in advance of December.]

Laughing With Lipton’s

If a hotel says there’s “no room today
And I don’t know where I’m going to stay
I wouldn’t just wail in dark dismay:

I’d be complaining and threatening to call the management for lousing up my reservation. And then I might let the canary out of the cage and see what happens (he’s cranky too, because he’s been in that cage in the limo all day). I am One Fancy Dame and I cannot be expected to pack up my hat boxes and shuffle off to the Motel Six, can I? Indeed not.

Would I have a cup of Lipton’s after all that? Maybe, because it is a “swell-tasting drink” that is guaranteed to make me less “jumpy and jittery.” And if I was sipping it in the Penthouse Suite, that would make me laugh with Lipton’s, definitely.

“And a round of your best birdseed for my little friend, my good man!”

[From Life, November 22, 1943.]

Scatter Perm! Scatter Perm!

When you think about having a Good Hair Day, does the word “scatter” spring to mind? I didn’t think so.

The Scatter Perm people beg to differ, though. Here’s the exciting new concept (new in the 60s, anyway): Scatter perm rods through your hair so that some of it is straight and some gets curly. Wow, groovy, man!

However, it does not look like these gals scattered the perm at all. The little curling rods are geometrically precise, and even.

I used to play around with those little rubber curler things (not perm rods, but whatever) in the 70s. And it was a ridiculous endeavor from the get-go since I have unruly wavy hair, which is described kindly as Pre-Raphaelite, i.e. frizzy. That was a Scatter situation. Curlers hanging off odd clumps of hair, dotted all over my head. It would not have convinced anyone to buy curlers, ever.

So there you go. “It’s a perm that doesn’t show!” says the smarmy voiceover lady as faux Herb Alpert music perks along in the background. Um, yes it does show, smarmy lady – and we can all see just where you scattered that perm.


The Merry Wives of Dormeyer

I think we can all see who this ad is addressed to. You WIVES out there – this is what you have to do! You may want to make some notes. Look at all the pretty pictures here and when you see something shiny that you really like – say, a toaster or a lovely coffee pot – put a Great Big Circle around it. That means “a round shape” like an O. Can you do that? Good. Then bring the ad right over to Him and show him what you did.

He should jump up out of the Barcalounger and go straight to the store. Really! He will. But in case he does not go immediately – you are going to have to step up your game a little. Crying is good. Just a little because you don’t want to get the ad wet, right? And you also don’t want to frighten him.

Husbands: you get the smaller print message at the bottom, because you big boys are So Smart you do not need Great Big Sesame Street Letters. Good for you! You are reading very well now! Anyway – just get what she wants, OK? It’ll make her happy, and we here at Dormeyer will also be happy, and won’t cry.

If you don’t – she will cry. You know why? (Here comes the Plot Twist…) Well, sir, your wife has a Secret Life. She is in fact the CEO of Dormeyer and her big Christmas bonus is riding on lots of extra sales.

Either that or she really really likes toasters.

This is from the London TimesOnline – they have a panorama of the 10 Most Bizarre Sexist Adverts for your reading pleasure today. You won’t be surprised to learn that this caught my attention at once, so I stopped reading the Serious News and went right over. I made the ad a little bigger over here, so you can really see all those fabulous presents.

I had already written about the Dave’s Locked Out Listerine Free Wife, so that was out. So I chose the one that looked the most like something that comes from my magazine collection – the one that looks a little chewed-up and tired. Perfect for Monday.