A MAN and His Car

Living in California we are pretty much raised to think a car is an extension of our body. We also seem to think it's a constitutional right to have a car. No place is this more obvious than Los Angeles and the San Francisco Bay Area during commute time. Pure hell. Car after car going by with a single occupant.

It used to be, I believe, that cars were a statement about a man's manhood. For woman it wasn't the engine—or so the dealers thought—but the color of the outside and interior of the car and whether it had a mirror the ladies could look at to do their makeup. Seriously, they were idiots. Though I find nearly all ads for cars pretty stupid and repetitive (don't get me started on the luxury models that we're supposed to put under the Christmas tree each year), at least there is an attempt to go beyond the clichés of the past with the male/female stereotypes. Now we're supposed to be reckless, off-road, and extremely hot looking. I'm just glad I ended up in publishing and not advertising. I would have been shown the door in no time at all.

This week's Sepia Saturday photo is of a fellow standing in front of a car. I immediately went to the big BIG box of photos I was given for Christmas. Surely in the hundreds of shots in that glorious box there must be at least one of a guy with a car. I stopped after finding the following three.

I do know who this fellow was. His name was Ben and he was a Naval officer.

Click on image to see it larger.

On the back of this one it says "Taken June 18, 8th grade graduation." Diggin' the car and the flattop.

Click on image to see it larger.

NO idea who this fun fellow is.

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I love my car. I love driving my car. I have always loved driving. I do like to drive fast, but I don't anymore. The fastest I've ever driven was on the Autobahn. I thought I was doing pretty good until I saw the flashing headlights way way way behind me approaching at a tremendous speed. No sooner had I seen them and pulled into the slower lane than a Porsche blur shot by. I pretty much stayed in the slow lane the rest of the time which was still moving very fast.

As I recall I have only one photo of myself standing next to a car. It was a bright red Audi in Germany. I loved that car too. It's long gone, but like with most cars, the memory remains.
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Tattered and Lost volumes 1 to 9 available at Amazon.

Once upon a time there was A BOXER NAMED MARCUS VASQUEZ

This is a repost from several years ago that most won't have seen. In keeping with the man with the box for Sepia Saturday I give you boxer Marcus Vasquez. All I ever found about him is below.
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You'd think that starting with "Once upon a time..." I'd have a fairytale to tell. No, just an old picture of a lightweight boxer named Marcus Vasquez wearing an apron. Seriously, I have no idea what is going on or how this photo eventually ended up in my hands.

"To a Swell Kid Marcus Vasquez.

From your manager Ben Marcus"

Marcus Vasquez appears to have fought his first professional bout on Dec. 21, 1948 against Cadilla Clemmons at the Olympic Auditorium in Los Angeles. He won the fight. From then on he fought around Southern California, up to San Jose on March 22, 1949, over to Arizona for several fights, even down to Chihuahua, Mexico on Feb. 8, 1950; he lost that fight to Al Lopez.

According to the online information I've found, Marcus had 17 wins, 19 losses, and 7 draws with a total of 197 rounds fought. The last fight listed was on July 7, 1952 to Maxie Docusen in San Antonio, Texas. Marcus lost and is listed as TKO.

So, was this the end of Marcus Vasquez as a fighter? I cannot find any other information about him.

As to the fellow on the left, his manager, Ben Marcus, I cannot find anything about him other than he worked in the Los Angeles area.

I don't know, but my mind spins when I look at this shot with the inscription and I'm sucked into the world of Raymond Chandler and this little scrap of paper is evidence in a murder. I can't say truthfully anything one way or the other. It is what it is and it will forever be a mystery unless some person with knowledge of the world of boxing in Los Angeles in the late '40s to early '50s steps forward to fill in the missing pieces to the story.

For now, I'm riding in my old Buick on a warm summer night along Sunset, hoping I can run a few red lights without getting caught as I try to make my way to a mysterious meeting in Los Feliz. It began with this photo stuffed inside my morning paper with a note that read, "9:40, Jerry's, Los Feliz. Come alone."

UPDATE: I found this image for sale online at a boxing memorabilia site. This shows that Marcus was in an undercard fight on September 9, 1949 at the Hollywood Legion Stadium.

I looked up "undercard" and found the following:

The undercard, or preliminary matches (sometimes preliminary card), consists of preliminary bouts that occur before the headline or "main event" of a particular boxing, professional wrestling, horse racing, auto racing, or other sports event. (In auto racing, however, the term "support race" occurs more commonly.) Typically, promoters intend the undercard to provide fans with an opportunity to see up-and-coming fighters or fighters not so well known and popular as their counterparts in the main event. The undercard also ensures that if the main event ends quickly fans will still feel that they received sufficient value for the price of their admission. (SOURCE: Wikipedia)

Marcus, I fear, is lost to history other than this post.

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Tattered and Lost volumes 1 to 8 available at Amazon.

Driving Over DONNER SUMMIT

I can't even begin to count how many times I drove this road. It's near the summit of Donner Pass in Northern California; the old route 40 of the Sierras. Off in the distance at the far end of Donner Lake is where the Donner Party attempted to survive the winter of 1846-47. There is a state park and campground located where the families lived. And the towns of Gateway and Truckee have tourists far removed from what once happened in the area.

Click on image to see it larger.

Until you've experienced a winter in this area you simply can't imagine what the Donner Party were dealing with. My families cabin was on the western side of the summit. I can remember going in the second floor—which was really the third floor because the "basement" was above ground—more than once. The first floor and basement were completely covered in snow. And it's not a fluffy snow. It's called Sierra Cement for a reason. The summit is where the storms dump their first round of heavy water in storms and the snow depth and weight proves it. I can remember walking along the road and having to duck to get under the power lines; the snow was that deep. The upstairs beam in the cabin was actually two 15-18 inch beams stacked which ran the length of the cabin. Without such beams we would have had the problem so many other cabins had in the heavy snow…complete collapse.

Winter weather at Donner Pass can be brutal. Precipitation averages 51.6 inches (131 cm) per year, much of which falls as snow. At an average of 411.5 inches (10.45 m) per year, Donner Pass is one of the snowiest places in the United States. Four times since 1880 total snowfall at Donner Summit has exceeded 775 inches (19.7 m) and topped 800 inches (20 m) in both 1938 and 1953. To take advantage of the heavy snows, the Boreal Ski Resort was built to the north. Ski resorts in the Lake Tahoe area report an average of 300 to 500 inches (7.6 to 12.7 m) of snowfall per season. Winds in the pass can also become extreme and wind gusts in excess of 100 miles per hour (160 km/h) are common during winter storms. Winter temperatures in the area drop below zero several times each year; the all-time record low for California of −45 °F (−43 °C) was recorded at Boca (east of Truckee) in January 1937.

The winter of 1846-47 was especially severe, and this is generally cited as the single most important factor in the disaster of the Donner Party. In the winter of 2010-11, over 700 inches (1,800 cm) had fallen as of May 23, 2011. Snow depth peaked in early April 2011 with over 250 inches (21 ft) of snow on the ground. (SOURCE: Wikipedia)

To say the least, before route 80, the Dwight D. Eisenhower Highway, was built, getting over the summit in the winter was at best a challenge if the road was open at all. It was, and still is, a two lane road. These days it's closed during the winter. But the rest of the year it's a beautiful drive. In fact it's often used in car commercials.

For decades there was a rusty old bus sitting upside down on those rocks a bit east of that tall tree on the right. I never knew the story of that bus, but we all made up some great stories. Eventually sometime in the late '90s, I think, the bus was finally removed.

I miss driving the pass on a warm summer day with the car windows open. It's a wonderful snaky road that's fun to drive. There's a lot to see along this road, so next time you think of staying on interstate 80 get off at Cisco Grove and follow the old 40 through Truckee. I can remember driving it before the freeway was in. In fact, I can remember going over and seeing dynamite blasts where the freeway was being constructed. That really dates me.
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Tattered and Lost volumes 1 to 7 available at Amazon.

The HALLOWEEN PARTY

All good things must come to an end. And what an end it is.

 Happy Halloween fellow travelers! 

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More HALLOWEEN PARTY in the garage

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More from the HALLOWEEN PARTY

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The HALLOWEEN PARTY

Welcome to a Schnabel Halloween Party!






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To find out about The Last Unicorn Screening Tour click here or on the link in the left column.

ROCKING HORSE all night long

Did you have a rocking horse as a child? I know I had one because there is a photo of me sitting on it grasping the reins with one hand, one hand thrown over my shoulder as if riding a bronco, a paper crown on my head (part of a birthday card which I still have), and a big smile. I don’t know what ever became of that horse. I don’t even remember it. I do have memories of the spring loaded monsters that you bounced and rocked on. If you got going really good on one of those you could turn it into a ride that had your parents saying, “Slow down! Slow down!” I remember doing this, but I don’t know if I had one of these horses or if I just went nuts on a neighbors horse. If you were to put one of those horses in front of me today I’d probably do the same thing only now I’d be saying to myself in that little voice that fears falling, “Slow down you stupid old woman!”

And if this little fellow looks familiar it's because he's from the Three Buck Big Box of Photos.


Click on image to see it larger.

WONDER BREAD, CIGARETTES, and high sugar cereal

Welcome to a childhood in the 1950s and part of the '60s. Wonder Bread, cigarettes with matches, high sugar content cereal, and formica/metal dinette set.

Wonder Bread was only good for one thing...smashing into a flat piece of doughy bread. You'd chew the crust off then start smashing it with your fingers until it was nice and flat. Then you'd fold it and smash some more. Fold and repeat. It would get so small and doughy, but never stick to your fingers. If you were a gourmet you'd spread butter on this weird blob. I usually just gobbled it down and grabbed another piece to smash. Other than that, it was a pretty dreadful bread. I always wondered how they got that much air in bread. My mother tried to get me to switch to cracked wheat, but it was a no go. Wonder Bread with PBJ in my red plaid lunch box.


Click on image to see it larger.

Another image from the Three Buck Big Box of Photos. You can see other images of this child through the years by clicking on the label below.

Zenith TRANS-OCEANIC

The only reason I bought this old tattered snapshot is because of the black radio in the background. It's a Zenith Trans-Oceanic and looks very much like the one I have sitting in my garage. I cannot remember a time in my life when my family did not own this radio.


Click on image to see it larger.

My dad purchased one, probably at the base Exchange, before we moved to Midway Island in the early 1950s. This radio was our connection to the world. I remember listening to this radio over the next several decades and it had me hooked listening to shortwave broadcasts and radio broadcasts from elsewhere in the world.

We also had a Hallicrafter that I remember listening to late at night at the cabin. I still remember the broadcasts from North Vietnam during the Vietnam war.

Sadly neither of the radios work anymore. Both require tubes and I have no idea where to find those or if they're even available anymore. But I won't toss them. I love the look of each of them and the fond memories they bring back.

To see more about old radios visit my post today at Tattered and Lost Ephemera.

And currently bandwidth issues prevent me from participating again in Sepia Saturday. I hope to be back soon.

Once upon a time there was A BOXER NAMED MARCUS VASQUEZ

You'd think that starting with "Once upon a time..." I'd have a fairytale to tell. No, just an old picture of a lightweight boxer named Marcus Vasquez wearing an apron. Seriously, I have no idea what is going on or how this photo eventually ended up in my hands.

"To a Swell Kid Marcus Vasquez.

From your manager Ben Marcus"

Marcus Vasquez appears to have fought his first professional bout on Dec. 21, 1948 against Cadilla Clemmons at the Olympic Auditorium in Los Angeles. He won the fight. From then on he fought around Southern California, up to San Jose on March 22, 1949, over to Arizona for several fights, even down to Chihuahua, Mexico on Feb. 8, 1950; he lost that fight to Al Lopez.

According to the online information I've found, Marcus had 17 wins, 19 losses, and 7 draws with a total of 197 rounds fought. The last fight listed was on July 7, 1952 to Maxie Docusen in San Antonio, Texas. Marcus lost and is listed as TKO.

So, was this the end of Marcus Vasquez as a fighter? I cannot find any other information about him.

As to the fellow on the left, his manager, Ben Marcus, I cannot find anything about him other than he worked in the Los Angeles area.

I don't know, but my mind spins when I look at this shot with the inscription and I'm sucked into the world of Raymond Chandler and this little scrap of paper is evidence in a murder. I can't say truthfully anything one way or the other. It is what it is and it will forever be a mystery unless some person with knowledge of the world of boxing in Los Angeles in the late '40s to early '50s steps forward to fill in the missing pieces to the story.

For now, I'm riding in my old Buick on a warm summer night along Sunset, hoping I can run a few red lights without getting caught as I try to make my way to a mysterious meeting in Los Feliz. It began with this photo stuffed inside my morning paper with a note that read, "9:40, Jerry's, Los Feliz. Come alone."

It's little. It's white. It's from the 1950s. WHAT IS IT?

Other than the VW Beetle, I'm not acquainted with little cars from the 1950s in the U.S. so I'm leaving this open to discussion. Anyone know what this car is? The photos were taken at an Air Force base.






Click on any image to see it larger.

AMUSEMENT PARK rides

This week’s Sepia Saturday shows a miniature train with children on board. I’ve decided to use this as my jumping off point for a few amusement park photos.

These first two vintage snapshots were purchased years ago. I have no idea where or when they were taken, but I’m guessing the 1930s. I’ve always thought the one poor boy is upchucking his cookies after the ride.

Click on either image to see them larger.

Looking at these little cars I think back on the Disneyland ride Autopia and how desperately I wanted to drive the cars myself. As I recall, when Disneyland first opened there was a lot of dirt near Autopia. Disneyland was far from complete when I first visited around three weeks after its opening. I remember the sign which showed how tall you had to be to actually ride in one of the cars by yourself. I was way too short. It wasn’t until I’m guessing 1962 or ’63 that I finally was tall enough to go zipping around the track without a parent in the car. In those days you were actually able to steer the car within the cement “trough” that wound round and round. Later they more or less nailed you down on a metal beam that meant you didn’t do any steering. You were left just pushing the gas pedal. By that time driving one of these cars wasn’t nearly as exciting as simply driving a real car in Los Angeles traffic. Ahh, simpler times.

This last photo is of me in the early 1950s, possibly at Fairyland in Oakland, California, though I don't think they had rides. So actually most likely at Balboa Park in San Diego.

Children's Fairyland, U.S.A. was the first theme park in the United States created to cater to families with young children. Located in Oakland, California on the shore of Lake Merritt, Fairyland includes 10 acres of play sets, small rides, and animals. The park is also home to the Open Storybook Puppet Theater, the oldest continuously operating puppet theater in the United States.

Fairyland was built in 1950 by the Oakland Lake Merritt Breakfast Club. The sets were designed by artist and architect William Russell Everritt. The park was nationally recognized for its unique value, and during the City Beautiful movement of the 1950s it inspired numerous towns to create their own parks. Walt Disney even came to Fairyland often to get ideas for Disneyland. (SOURCE: Wikipedia)

I have fond memories of Disneyland and Fairyland. I look at this little girl with the butterfly wings and wonder what became of her.

To see more images from an amusement park visit Tattered and Lost Ephemera.

Early 1950s JAPANESE MOVIE POSTERS

Here's something a little different. This could just as easily be posted at my ephemera site as here under vernacular photography.

This shot was taken by my father in the early 1950s when he was living in Japan during the Korean War. I have no idea what movies or stars are on the posters. Anyone have any ideas?

Click on image to see it larger.

Watermelon eating BEACH GALS

Okay, there's no evidence here of eating watermelon, but I have proof these woman did indeed eat watermelon on this beach. In this earlier post, BEACH PARTY with watermelon, we see them all chomping away on the juicy red fruit.

Click on image to see it larger.

This is from the infamous, in my mind, Big Bag of Negs. And dare I say that I found more photos of them eating watermelon. I've told you, it's a category. I must collect. Perhaps I will eventually corner the market. They'll all be mine. MINE I TELL YOU! ALL MINE!

Let's see, that's people eating watermelon, pigs eating watermelon, people on horses not real, looming shadows (far too commonly collected), did I mention watermelon? I say find a category and specialize. Specialization is where the money is.

Don't believe a word of what I'm saying. For cryin' out loud I know nothing! I mean, I have one photo of a pig eating watermelon and have decided to make it a category!

BEACH PARTY with watermelon

From the Big Bag of Negs I give you Beach Party!

Click on image to see it larger.

Some negs should never see the light of day, let alone a flatbed scanner. Others just make me smile as the image appears on the screen. I have to wonder how many prints of this one exist. I own the negative. It is in the aforementioned Big Bag of Negs which continues to have losers and winners. This one is a complete winner! And may I say the fourth in my collection of people eating watermelon. Yes, I have 4 photos of people eating watermelon, one involved a pig. If you've followed this blog you'll remember the handsome pig. Then I have two other shots of watermelon eaters that have not been shown. Who knows what sort of watermelon eaters lurk within the Big Bag of Negs! It's a category. I must collect them.

I'd say this one is from the early to mid-50s. I know my mother had a purse exactly like the one in the foreground on the beach. It was white woven fabric with a pull cinch top. I wish I still had it.

As to the shadow in the lower left corner...isn't it a little strange? A clown with a big nose and a funny hat? A one eared fellow with a tiny sailor hat?

And as to the standing fella...well maybe I just remember too many Annette and Frankie Beach Party movies, but I keep waiting for that guy to dance. Shake his butt and do the frug. If you have to ask what the frug is you're already too young. Keep moving', nothin' to see here.