A West Indian, born in 1888, who arrived in Harlem in 1917, Morgan Thompson* was convicted of assault in 1928 after he lost his temper and stabbed a man who had confronted his seventeen year old son  on West 144th Street.

(* This name is a pseudonym, used at the request of the Municipal Archives)

The most striking feature of Thompson’s life revealed by mapping it is the distance from Harlem that he traveled to work. He was employed as a laborer by construction contractors. Between 1928 and 1933, the years he spent on probation, he labored on fifteen different constructions sites, in downtown Manhattan and on the Upper East Side, and in the outer boroughs of Brooklyn, Queens and the Bronx.  Only once did he work in Harlem, on the new YMCA on 135^th Street. (Note: some of the addresses outside Harlem are approximate locations)

Laboring was by nature itinerant work, but employment in the other occupations open to blacks was also unstable and required them to travel beyond Harlem, producing the crowds photographed pouring out of the 135th Street subway station in rush hour, in this image from the Survey Graphic Harlem Number.

Laboring, like many of the jobs open to black men, was also dangerous. The previous September Thompson had suffered a workplace injury, for which he received compensation. Within a month of returning to work after his arrest, Thompson injured his ankle so badly that it would be three months before he could put sufficient weight on it to work.  And then, after only a month back at work, Morgan suffered a smashed finger.

In Harlem, in 1928 Thompson lived with his wife of seventeen years, Margaret, a domestic servant three years his junior who also hailed from the West Indies, and two children, George, and fifteen-year-old Elizabeth. The same four bedroom apartment at ??? West 144th Street had been their home for all eleven years they had resided in New York City.  Part of the attraction would have been that West Indians  made up three quarters of those who lived in the building.  Thompson also sought out fellow immigrants in his leisure time, joining the Victoria Society, a West Indian social club with rooms on West 137th Street, and occasionally attending an Episcopal Church on 140th Street, whose members would have been overwhelmingly West Indian.

In April 1929, the family were evicted from their apartment, unable to pay their rent due to the injuries that kept Thompson from working.  In relocating, Thompson refused to consider cheaper apartments, which he considered uninhabitable, and chose instead a six room apartment on West 143rd Street, close to their old home and community.  The family rented the extra rooms, with several individuals and a married couple occupying them in the ensuing years.  Taking in lodgers was a common strategy to help pay the rent; one third of the other tenants in the building also had lodgers in 1930.  The Thompsons also relied on the wages of the two children; George had a position in a dress factory, and later as a scarf maker, and his sister Elizabeth was employed in a hat factory.  Any surplus money they had George deposited in an account at the Empire State Bank on 125th Street. When the children too lost their jobs as the Depression worsened, Morgan was able to obtain work through relief agencies, allowing the family to remain in their new home at least until 1933, when his probation ended.

A more detailed account of Morgan Thompson’s life in Harlem can be found in our article, “This Harlem Life: Black Families and Everyday Life in the 1920s and 1930s,” which will appear in the Spring 2011 issue of the Journal of Social History.

Last weekend I was out in Shoreditch celebrating the birthday of a fabulous friend… En route from bar to club we stumbled across a sweet sweet haven of tasteful music and jazzy outfits at The Last Days of Decadence. It was prohibition night, but nothing was stopping anyone from having an outrageously fun time. The ragtime was blairing, outfits were daring and drinks were aplenty.

So in true homage to 1920s chic, don your trilbys and flapper dresses, and get ready to be transported to another era. An era of Charleston-dancing, pearl-swinging, frolicking, flirting, frivolous decadence.

5815 Racine Street

The definitive A. Soda mark, in front of a very modest cottage at the end of Racine.

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A rare peak inside the early days of the engineering dept. at Indian– year unknown.

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Charles B. Franklin joined Indian in 1914, and was the first ever formally trained engineer on staff since the motorcycle firm officially opened its doors in 1901. Franklin’s background in engineering, as well as racing, gave Indian someone expertly qualified for the position. Born in Ireland in 1886, Franklin was a graduate of the Dublin College of Science in 1908, then joined the engineering department of Dublin’s municipal government. He was passionate about motorcycling, personally owning several makes and models before finally fixing his sights on Indian in 1910. Franklin entered several local motorcycle competitions where his riding ability and success in the events brought him to the attention to the UK Indian importer, Billy Wells. He was a member of the famous Indian racing team that swept the 1911 Isle of Man TT, gaining second place behind Oliver Godfrey, and in front of Arthur Moorhouse, in the historic first 1-2-3 finish for Indian.

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1916 Indian Powerplus 1000 cc motorcycle

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1919 Indian Military Powerplus– the motorcycle that helped the US win WWI.

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1918 Indian Powerplus motorcycle advertisement.

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There were major forces at this time impacting Indian’s technology aspirations.  Manufacturing preparations for WWI were gearing up, and production resources for commercial production were limited.

1920 officially ushered in a significant decline in domestic motorcycle sales to make matters worse. Thankfully by this time, Indian had become a major exporter, chiefly to the UK, where events like the Isle of Man TT were dominated by smaller displacement motorcycles.  Franklin’s Irish heritage surely played some part in Indian’s efforts to not only dominate Europe’s racing circuits, but also aggressively go after more market share overseas (a point soon made moot when England introduced a steep import tariff in 1925 to support Triumph, Norton, and other local motorcycle manufacturers).

In 1922, the US National Championship sanctioning officials, motivated by a public outcry over the ever-increasing motorcycle fatalities, introduced the toned-down 30.50 cubic inch (500 cc) class of motorcycle racing.  It was a clear attempt to slow motorcycle performance– as speeds were scarily lapping rider safety advancements.

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“Grandma Beal” AKA Ruth Beal on an Indian Powerplus

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Indian set-out to dominate Harley Davidson in the small displacement wars by throwing its engineering staff at the new field by developing new, potent smaller engines– where as Harley’s answer seemed to be to lop a cylinder off their standard 61 ci, two cam engine.  By 1925, the 4-valve 30.5 ci (500 cc) powered Indians handily surpassed the H-D “half-twin,” giving them 4 out of 5 US National Championships in their class.

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Technology aside, Indian would soon have Harley Davidson beat in another department– Looks.  Indian created a strong following with iconic and stunning design.  The new era of Charles B. Franklin designed street-bikes soon became known for their sweeping, deeply valanced fenders and signature Indian-head ornament on the front fender. Indians were the ‘leader of the pack’ in terms of looks and style– whose design cues are still fiercely coveted  by today’s motorcycle purists. Undoubtedly one of the most loved (and oft imitated) trademarks of the old Indians are the incredible multi-toned, high quality paints jobs that began to appear in 1929, when Mr. E. Paul DuPont of paint company fame, became President of the motorcycle company.

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To be continued… next up, the Scout, Chief & Big Chief.

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The roaring 20s with all the flapper girls and prosperity.. life was good until “the crash”…

I forgot my camera, so a photo of me in 20s makeup will have to do for now.

It is amazing to me to realise that this haunting and dazzling silent epic was so nearly lost forever, despite being winner of the first Oscar for best film. It had been thought that no copies of William Wellman’s early masterpiece still existed, until a print was discovered in the  Cinémathèque Française archive in Paris and quickly restored. Watching it and seeing how powerful the imagery and acting are, with great performances by Clara Bow, Richard Arlen and Charles “Buddy” Rogers, plus a memorable cameo by Gary Cooper, it makes me wonder how many other great movies have indeed been lost to us.

Charles "Buddy" Rogers, Clara Bow and Richard Arlen

Although this film does survive against all the odds, and has been shown in a few cinemas with an organ accompaniment, it hasn’t as yet been released on DVD, except as a video transfer on the “grey market” and on a Chinese DVD, which I believe has subtitles that can’t be removed. After watching it twice in a good unofficial copy, I’d love to see it fully restored. According to the article on it at Wikipedia, which includes a good clear plot summary, the original release was colour-tinted and had some scenes in an early widescreen format, as well as some prints having synchronised sound effects. A special edition DVD could try to re-create all this, and have a commentary from a film historian – I’d rush out to buy it! However, even a DVD without all those bells and whistles would be very welcome.

In the meantime, I think the movie itself is incredibly powerful, and stands up well against later aviation dramas, perhaps even outdoes them. The spectacular aviation footage and stunts are even more impressive when you remember that there were no advanced special effects such as those we have today – if a plane is seen crashing down to the ground in flames, then it was really crashing, and a pilot had to get out in a hurry. Sadly, there were injuries and even a fatality, as a good article at the Moviediva website recounts. I won’t repeat all the fascinating background  information she has put together, but just say that some of the stunt flying was done by the stars themselves and one particularly daring stunt by Wellman, who lands up hanging down headfirst in his upturned plane. However, a lot was also done by US army air corps pilots whose services were lent to the production, because it was believed it would increase understanding of their work.

Charles "Buddy" Rogers and Clara Bow

Made only nine years after the end of the First World War, the film was written by John Monk Saunders, a veteran pilot who who also wrote Howard Hawks’ classic The Dawn Patrol, filmed three years later. Saunders hadn’t actually served in France, a matter of bitter regret to him himself, but he was a flight instructor in the First World War and a member of the Lost Generation who eventually killed himself – here is a link to a fine piece about him.  Wellman himself did serve in France and was mentally and physically scarred for life – so they knew their stuff. Wellman insisted on waiting a month for the “right cloud formations”, much to the fury of the bosses at Paramount – but I think the power of the flight sequences, with all the piles of cloud glimpsed from and around the planes, shows he was right. (I can maybe experience this more as an original 1920s moviegoer would have done than most people today, since I have never flown – as yet – which may be one of the reasons why aviation movies fascinate me so much.)

The only part which doesn’t seem altogether authentic to me is the opening sequence, introducing the young Jack Powell (Rogers) as a lad in a small American town dreaming of flying, building himself a car, and joking with girl next door Mary Preston (Bow), but failing to realise that she is in love with him. Jack’s existence just seems too vague and idyllic, reminding me of the country idyll in the opening scenes of another great silent film, Henry King’s Tol’able David (1921). It’s hard to believe that anybody was ever quite this carefree! However, as in Tol’able David, the aim is to create a happy memory which will serve as a touchstone, helping to deepen the later misery – and this is certainly achieved. As in so many 1920s and 30s films, a movie which begins as near comedy will later deepen into tragedy, in this case inevitably given the subject matter.

Despite Mary’s adoration of him, Jack is in love with Sylvia Lewis (Jobyna Ralston), who, one of the inter-titles informs us, is from a city and so much more sophisticated than the local girls. Sylvia is in love with David (Arlen), and the two are first seen together, sitting in a garden swing with a roof in a long tracking shot . These swings tend to be seen as quite glamorous in Europe (in Germany they are known as Hollywood swings!) and I think the shot does give Sylvia an air of glamour and mystery from the start, by contrast with the sweet, down-to-earth Mary, who is first glimpsed standing under a pair of large white bloomers on a washing line, before blithely climbing over a garden fence! Both Jack and David seem very fresh-faced and at first I found it hard to tell the two actors apart at times – but, on the second viewing of the film, I noticed more that Jack is clearly the younger of the two, and David (“the richest boy in the town”), has something of the same sophistication as Sylvia.

Richard Arlen as David

Both men sign up to train as aviators, and one of the most powerful sequences in the film for me is the footage showing long crocodiles of men marching off to war. There is a sort of split-screen effect, with the marching men in the bottom half of the screen, and shadowy images of the fighting in France in the top half – showing what they are going to.

When Jack and David go off to train as pilots together, at first their rivalry over Sylvia means they dislike one another – but, after a boxing session turns into a full-scale fight, they make up and become inseparable. I think this idea of two men fighting and then realising the depth of their friendship may be something that recurs in Wellman’s films. There is a more tragic version in his early talkie Other Men’s Women, and I’ve seen a clip from a film he made about a boys’ school (I don’t remember the title)  where two boys are seen fighting and one of them uses exactly the same line to the other at the end of the fight as in the inter-title in Wings – “You’re game!”

Gary Cooper

However, here, the fight scene isn’t really the point – the key to Jack and David’s friendship is that they are both living in the shadow of death, which is borne out when Gary Cooper appears in a brief scene, as Cadet White. He rises sleepily from his bed, tells the others he needs to do some flying before breakfast, goes outside and is killed – leaving them looking at the outline of his body on his bed, and his toothmarks in the bar of chocolate he was chewing minutes earlier. Cooper makes an amazing impression in just a couple of minutes –the scene is said to have made him a star, and I can believe it. I’ve seen him in plenty of talkies, but somehow in a silent film his physical beauty is more stunning, and the whole way he moves, shrugging and stretching, seems far more naturalistic than the other actors in this film, good though they are. His eyes look cold and bleak as he tells the others that there is no point in carrying good luck talismans because, if you are going to die, then you are going to die. Wellman claimed in an interview that Cooper asked him to do the scene again because he picks his nose when he first wakes up – in fact he just seems to wipe his hand across his nose, but, in any case, the sleepy gesture is all part of his naturalness.

Cooper’s character dies offscreen, but there are also several powerful scenes of aerial fights, including images of men dying in the cockpit, with blood spreading across their faces – more graphic, I think, than death scenes in films made over the next couple of decades, where you often don’t see much blood.

I don’t want to just go over the whole plot, but will say that there were several twists which surprised me, although they then seemed to have a sort of dream inevitability to them. I was also impressed that, rather than just being left at home to wait, Mary is shown serving as an ambulance driver on the front –  I’d been wanting to find some First World War films which show women serving, and didn’t realise this would be one of them! There aren’t any very realistic scenes of Mary’s war work, but it is still something to see her working, and in uniform, not in the sort of designer gowns Joan Crawford, playing a nurse, wears in Hawks’ Today We Live.

In one of the most memorable sections of the whole film, Mary spots a drunken Jack, on leave from the air force, in the Folies Bergeres in Paris, and tries to win him away from a prostitute on his arm. The astonishing thing here is the way Jack sees imaginary champagne bubbles everywhere, which are somehow painted on to the screen (a “making of” featurette on the DVD I’m dreaming of could explain how!) – this is kept up for several minutes and works very well. The picture also goes out of focus several times when we see through Jack’s eyes, to give an impression of just how drunk he is. This doesn’t sound like much when I describe it, but, watching it, it feels so experimental and clever. This sequence also includes some brief nudity, when Mary is persuaded to dress up as one of the dancing girls in order to get Jack’s attention – this is notable as a pre-Code sequence, but I found the giant bubbles more surprising and off the wall.

Probably the most famous scene in the whole film, though, is David’s death scene, where he dies in Jack’s arms, as Jack kisses him and strokes his hair – this is a heartbreaking scene which really brings out the love between the two, built through all they have gone through together, and it would have spoken to all those watching who had lost their loved ones in the war, and especially to those who had lost comrades in battle. The featurette about Wellman in the new box set of his films discusses this scene as being one of the most intense expressions of love between two men on film. I think this is also a scene where silence helps, because, if we could hear Jack crying, it might all become too much and go over the edge into sentimentality – whereas, as it is, the lack of sound helps to keep the audience at a slight distance.

I’ll just add that Henry B. Walthall and Julia Swayne Gordon are great as David’s proud and stiff, but loving, parents. And, oh yes… have I mentioned that I’d like to see this movie released on DVD?

Next up I’ll be writing about Wellman’s Beggars of Life, another brilliant silent film – but it might take me a few days to get my head round that one. I’m probably the slowest blogger around, so thanks to all those who are sticking with me.

Clara Bow

322 Glendale Avenue

A very dim Cotterill mark, just visible in the low sun at this time of year.

On Monday and Tuesday earlier this week I (Vintage Tea Sets) styled this gorgeous 1920’s inspired Bridal Photo Shoot.  Here’s a tiny snapshot of what the very talented photographer Rosie Parsons captured on the Tuesday, on the Monday we were at a secret location shhhhhh! More to come on that.  She’s done an amazing job yet again and I cannot rate her wedding photography highly enough.

I’ll be blogging more on the detail shortly, the dresses, head pieces etc with a special thanks to all those suppliers, all to come.  But initially I’d like to thank Floriture and Bella & Fifi for the beautiful flowers, Award Winning Make up Artist Sarah Brock and Becky Simpson from Hair by Becks @ Thairapy Bristol.  Not to mention Combe House for letting us shoot there.  Now enjoy these gorgeous images!

486 McAuley Street

Friendship turned and spoke to me:
‘Always I’ll be there;
Never mind the fretting or the woes,
Nay, tell! – be you in the doldrums, deep of Hell,
Or any other dire straights my friend,
For you, I would stand here ever at your side
From distant time to now, the bitter end.’

 Mark R Slaughter

Ménilmontant (Dimitri Kirsanoff, 1926)

Wow. Apparently cinematic perfection was developed in 1926. Ménilmontant proves to me that cinema is most blissful as a purely visual medium. This film needs no soundtrack and no intertitles. Kirsanoff uses his characters faces, the city that surrounds them, and incredible montages to tell a simple and heartbreaking story. Of all the other films famous for their montages and tricky camerawork from the 1920s, none of them accomplished anywhere near the emotional connection of this film. Ménilmontant is able to do all those technical things while still being first and foremost about the characters. Nadia Sibirskaia gives one of the greatest performances I have ever seen. She displays the emotions of newly discovered love, heartbreak, desperation, and hope in an unexaggerated, yet obviously real way. She gushes of innocence and is one of the most sympathetic characters to ever grace the screen. This is the best film I’ve seen in ages.  10/10

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Circa 1937– Springfield, Massachusetts. Since the creation of the Indian Motorcycle, the Indian Factory (the Wigwam) has been the greatest of its kind in the world. The tremendous facilities of this factory are laid out over 12 acres of floor space– nothing short of an actual visit will enable you to visualize the manufacture of today’s Indian motorcycles. In making a tour of the 35 departments of the factory, a person would walk a distance of 7 miles. The row upon row of machinery, if placed end to end, would alone stretch out over 1 1/2 miles. Indian leadership has been maintained thru the years by that manufacturing expertness which finds its outlet in making each new Indian better than the best Indian which has gone before it. When you ride on an Indian, you ride on the Best. — Image by © Lake County Museum

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When you think of classic American Iron, two brands typically come to mind– Harley-Davidson & Indian. Well, Harley-Davidson always comes to mind– and if you know a thing or two about bikes, then hopefully you’re familiar with Indian too.  For those of us that came along after the heyday of American manufacturing, it’s easy to overlook that in the early days there were literally dozens (some even say hundreds) of companies producing motorcycles right here in the US.

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Indian co-founder Oscar Hedstrom on left, CA. 1902.  And I suspect that’s him on the right, ca. 1901.

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Dig around and you’ll find an amazing archive of stories behind companies like– Ace, Cleveland, Crocker, Cushman, Emblem, Excelsior/Henderson, Flying Merkel, Flanders (mainly accessories), Iver Johnson, Marsh, Pierce, Pope, Reading Standard, Schickel, Sears, Thor, Whizzer, Yale, just to name a few.  Out of the crowded pack, two iconic brands emerged, and for years went head-to-head for dominance on the race tracks, and in the hearts of the American motorcycle enthusiast.  In the end, one clearly came out on top.  And while we all know who won– it’s interesting to glean from the many missteps that would eventually lead to Indian’s demise.

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A vintage Indian motorcycle on display at the Guggenheim Las Vegas. -- Image by © Ted Soqui

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Indian is recognized as being the first major player on the scene, rolling out production (all of 3 bikes) in 1901– two years before Harley-Davidson.  Started by Oscar Hedstrom & George Hendee, a couple of bicycle racers and self-taught engineers, they set out by essentially bolting Hedstrom’s small engines on to Hendee’s bicycles, and from there they quickly honed their craft to create some of the best motorcycles of that era.  Indian became the force to be reckoned with, and first-to-market with innovation after innovation– the first V-Twin engine, the first two-speed transmission, the first adjustable front suspension, the first electric lights and starter, and many more.  Indian was clearly dominant in the marketplace, and on the race track– setting and breaking speed records hand-over-fist.

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Indian originally began manufacturing under the corporate banner of the Hendee Manufacturing Company, which was later reincorporated as the Indian Motocycle Company (an apparent nod to the European style of “Moto” motorcycle company names — i.e. Moto-Guzzi), early Indians were inspired by Hedstrom’s work with “pacing” bicycles, see below–

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Circa 1910 -- A track cyclist is shown in practice behind an early Indian motorcycle. -- Image by © Underwood & Underwood.

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Competition with Harley-Davidson in the early days was fierce, and factory sponsored racers were expected to be loyal– it was pretty unheard of for guys to switch allegiances back then without controversy.  Legendary Indian riders over the years like Bobby Hill, Bill Tuman, Ernie Beckman (all a part of the legendary “Indian Wrecking Crew” of the 1940s & ’50s) Ed Kretz, Burt Munro, and Mad Max Bubeck were motorcycling Hellcats in their respective days, and their exploits and success became synonymous with the Indian brand.

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Circa 1914– “Baker and O’Brien, transcontinental motorcyclists, back of White House.”  –How American is that, I ask you? Erwin ‘Cannonball’ Baker (right)– After the record-setting five-month, 10,000 mile transcontinental run by Baker on an Indian motorcycle in 1914, a New York newspaper writer compared Baker to the Cannonball Express train and he picked up the famous moniker that would stick with him the rest of his life.  Harris & Ewing. (images via Shorpy).

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You’d be hard-pressed to find anyone in motorcycling history more interesting than ‘Cannonball’ Baker. His record attempts often put him directly in harm’s way.  In one three-flags record attempt back in 1916, Baker had to change routes several times to avoid vast forest fires. In another run he took a turn at a high rate of speed and came upon a herd of cattle in the road. In trying to miss the herd, Baker turned sharply, hit a hole in the road and was thrown off his motorcycle into a fence– which in turn bounced him right onto the back of one of the cows. The surprised cow bucked him off and he ultimately landed in a ditch off the side of the road.  Baker took his skills overseas and set numerous records in foreign countries, most notably Australia and New Zealand.  Baker began shifting his focus and most of his record attempts were in automobiles.  In 1922, he ran in the Indianapolis 500 and finished 11th.  Baker also worked for Rickenbacker Automobiles, which was owned by the famous World War I flying ace Eddie Rickenbacker. Eventually he became an AMA race official, and later was named national commissioner for NASCAR. Not a bad run, eh?

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Circa 1911–  Motorcyclist Oscar Godfrey poses with his Indian motorcycle during the B.M.C.R.C. trials at Brooklands. — Image by © Hulton-Deutsch Collection.  Indians fast growth was fueled by early and impressive wins, such as the Isle of Man TT in 1911– when Indian riders Godfrey, Franklin and Moorehouse finished first, second and third. Indian star rider Jake De Rosier set several speed records both in America and at Brooklands in England, and won an estimated 900 races on dirt and board track racing.

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Circa 1914, Brooklands — J.C. Brooke sitting on his Indian motorcycle at the Brooklands Easter Meeting in Scotland. — Image by © Hulton-Deutsch Collection.

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Circa 1920. Herbert McBride, who recently broke the world’s motorcycle record for amateurs on his Indian.  His time was 105:24 miles per hour, which beats the old professional speed record. — Image by © Bettmann.  Speaking for myself, shots like these give me the chills.  The beauty of form and function coming together simply in all things, in a way that’s matter-of-fact and with a sense of pride, but not boastful.  The practical mix of quality apparel and accessories that are no nonsense and get the job done– all topped of with a neckerchief (tucked-in of course, so as not to flap in one’s face)– a nod to more civilized times. *

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With all their success early on, sadly Indian soon began a slow descent stemming from several changes in ownership and top management over the years. While great innovations continued at Indian, they often went unappreciated by a market that simply wasn’t willing or able to pay the steep prices that came along with them.  Bikes like the Model H– the first true board-track factory racer ever offered for sale directly to the public. It was loaded with features like a four-valve-per-cylinder,  overhead-valve engine and a lightweight rigid frame that was free of racing “nonessentials” such as brakes, fenders or a throttle (the bikes were run with the carbs wide open).  The Model H carried a top speed of over 120mph along with a whopping price tag of $375, roughly a third more than a fully equipped Chief of the era. Problem was that not too many club racers had that kind of dough to part with, and the motorcycle-buying public also lacked the finances, but also didn’t have the balls to get on the beast– so relatively few were built. But for Indian, it still notched a moral victory of sorts.  For those few Model H bikes were pure Hellcats in the capable hands of their sponsored riders, whom they “loaned’ them to with great success– bringing home trophies and track records almost everywhere they competed.  Still, perhaps there was an important lesson there that Indian should have filed away for future consideration–

Know your market, and what they’ll pay you for– and what they won’t.  Meaning that you should resist over-engineering a commodity product far beyond the end-user’s expectations– without their buy-in, and at their expense.  Always fully understand the specific needs you aim to address with your product, along with the price ceiling associated, and focus on delivering against that.  Don’t go cutting corners, but also be careful not to be driven by vanity to take it to the extreme where it’s no longer relevant (in terms of practicality or value) to the consumer– that is, unless you want to own them all.

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More proverbial writing was on the wall, when in 1913 Oscar Hedstrom left Indian after heated disagreements with the Board of Directors regarding their questionable accounting practices  that inflated the company’s stock values.  Co-founder George Hendee was not far behind, with him resigning in 1916.  The “powers that be” at Indian tapped Hedstrom’s long-time assistant Charles Gustafson and Charles B. Franklin (an Irish immigrant and former rider for the “Indian Rules” team that swept the Isle of Man TT in 1911) to pick up the company’s top engineering duties.  In the years that followed, Indian released Franklin’s iconic V-twin powered designs that would become the hallmark of the brand.

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Circa 1922, Los Angeles, California -- Speed demons beware... the Los Angeles motor corps with their new fleet of Indian motorcycles all ready and waiting to set out after Californian motorists who like to step on the gas. -- Image by © Bettmann.

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To be continued… click here

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Lovely cover images from the Spanish magazine Blanco y Negro, published in the 1920s and 30s. Found courtesy of the beautiful Art Deco blog.

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From the desk of Contributing Editor, Eli M. Getson–

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The first reported kidnapping of "Bill the goat" was perpetrated one week before the Army-Navy football game of '53. West Point cadets snuck onto the Annapolis grounds, assisted by a West Point exchange student living at the Naval Academy. After locating the goat behind the stadium, the cadets stashed "Bill" in the back of a convertible-- however, their cover was blown when the goat's horns shredded the car's top. The cadets successfully made it back to West Point and presented the goat to the entire Corps at a raucous dinnertime pep rally-- however, many Navy midshipmen refused to resume classes until "Bill" was returned. After the goat's return was ordered by officials from West Point (as well as President Dwight D. Eisenhower himself, a West Point grad), the Army cadets staged a mass protest which was posted on the front page of several New York papers as "Goat Rebellion at West Point." The Army football team went on to defeat Navy 20-7.

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"Billy" the goat, under the watchful eye of Naval Academy caretakers.

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Every year since 1890, the Navy Midshipmen and Army Cadets meet in the cold of Early December, to play one of the great games in all of American sports.  I’m hard-pressed to think of any other rivalry in all of sports extending that far back, with as much history, sentiment and anticipation as Army-Navy.

While the football fortunes of both service academies have risen and fallen– the grace, tradition, and style of this game endures.

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Original caption, November 1923-- This photo shows the Navy goat and the Army mule wishing each other good luck, in their own peculiar language, before the game. --- Image by © Bettmann. In 1899, at the Army-Navy Game, the Navy football team appeared with a mascot, a handsome if smelly goat. Army fans looked hastily for a mascot of their own. The Army mule was already legendary for its roughness and endurance, so the mule was obvious. A quartermaster in Philadelphia stopped a passing ice truck, and the big white mule pulling it became the first Army mascot. Dolled up in leggings, a collar and a gray blanket, with black gold and gray streamers fluttering from his ears, this mule met the Navy goat and - according to West Point legend - "hoisted that astonished goat toward the Navy stands to the delight of the laughing crowd." Army won the game too, 17-5. --via The Army Football Club.

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1912 -- The Army Mule at Army-Navy Football Game -- Image by © Bettmann.

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Both the Army and Navy were considered college football powerhouses through the 1940’s – 1960’s, and produced five Heisman trophy winners during that golden age. The Army cheating scandal of 1951 marked the beginning of their slow decline, and both their ranks were further hurt in the longer term by the rise of the NFL.  The service commitment tagged-on after your four year stint became a major pro recruitment disadvantage– as more and more high school football stars dreamed of the big money to be had in the NFL.

I personally don’t believe that watching future pro stars (although there have been some notable greats over the years) is really what Army-Navy was ever about.  The pageantry, patriotism, and overall school spirit displayed by the fine men and women of these illustrious academies makes one proud– and for someone in the design business, it continues to be a treasure trove of ideas and inspiration.

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Nothing like a rousing game of full-contact football in turtlenecks and stripe knitted caps! First Navy football team to play Army, November 29, 1890. Standing left to right: Charlie Macklin, Martin Trench, Noble Irwin, Rufus Lane, Henry Ward, Harry Smith. Second Row: Powers Symington, Charley Emrich, Moulton Johnson, Renwick Hartung. Seated: Henry Pearson, George Laws, Adelbert Althouse, John Beuret.

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The 1910 Navy squad beat Aemy 3-0 at Franklin Field in Philadelphia. You Gotta love the old letter sweaters and vintage jerseys-- especially our friend "1912" up in front. This guy appears to be a couple years ahead of his time, or someone at the archive needs to lay-off the hard stuff.

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1923, Annapolis, Maryland -- Annapolis Navy football team sitting wrapped in blankets on the side lines before their classmates. -- Image by © Bettmann.

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Notre Dame football coach, Knute Rockne (right), with Mayor Walker (left, dressed to kill) at the Army-Navy game -- Image by © Bettmann.

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The iconic “NAVY” lettering, and his opponent's striped sleeves, would go on to inspire a thousand fashion designers. The vintage jerseys of this golden era would find their way onto more than a few inspiration boards at the likes of Polo & Tommy Hilfiger.

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Presudent Eisenhower at the 1957 Army-Navy game-- Navy wone 14-0. I have to admit, I miss the days of men dressing up-- even for a sporting event. Mandatory attire was a jacket and tie. When the announcer said "Please remove your hats for the national anthem" -- he meant fedora.

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1962 -- President John F. Kennedy reacts to Army pass that was intercepted by Navy's Walt Pierce and fumbled twice before he finally recovered on the Army 5-yard line in closing moments of game. -- Image by © Bettmann.

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11/26/1963, Annapolis, MD -- Roger Staubach, Navy's spectacular quarterback, is shown at the U.S. Naval Academy, after it was announced that he had won the Heisman Award as the outstanding college player of the year. The five fingers under the "Beat Army" motto indicate that the Middies will be trying for the fifth straight win over Army when the two teams clash on December 7th. The game has been postponed one week because of the death of President John F. Kennedy. -- Image by © Bettmann.

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1964, Philadelphia, PA -- Senator elect Robert Kennedy clutches a program under his arm as he watches the Army-Navy game from the stands of the stadium named after his late brother, and former President. President John F. Kennedy had attended the classic service rivalry during the two years he was in office. -- Image by © Bettmann.

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–Eli M. Getson

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By no ways a complete list, but here is a timeline of some highlights of world history.

Japan-related dates are written in red.

• 1281: Mongolia was conquering most of Asia. As the Mongolian Navy was heading to Japan to invade, a giant typhoon sunk their entire fleet. Thus saving Japan.
  That typhoon was called 「神風」 (“Kamikaze“), which means “Divine Wind“, in Japan.The World War 2 Kamikaze pilots were named after this typhoon.
• 1346: The Black Plague started and eventually killed nearly half of Europe’s population.
• 1492: Christopher Columbus lands in America. But he believed he was in India and called the inhabitants “Indians“.
• 1603: 「江戸時代」 (The “Edo Period“) begins in Japan.
• 1680: The 将軍 (Shougun), Tsunayoshi, loved dogs and enacted a number of laws protecting dogs and making harming them a criminal offense.He is therefore often called “The Dog Shogun”.
• 1776: America declares it’s independence from England.
• 1789: French Revolution began.
• 1804: Napoleon became the Emperor of France.
• 1854: U.S. Naval Commodore Matthew Perry forced Japan to open to trade with the West.At first Japan resisted and the island of Odaiba was built in Tokyo Bay to defend Japan from the American forces. But Perry’s fleet of black ships were too intimidating and Japan enacted law to allow trade with the West in general and America in particular.The resulting influx of American goods and culture sparked Japan’s “Westernization”.

An Ukiyoe portrait of Cmdr. Perry. His name is written as 「ぺルリ」 ("Peruri") because that's what it sounded like to the Japanese when Perry said his name with his American accent.

1995 January 17: 「阪神淡路大震災」 (Hanshin-awajidai-shinsai), (“The Kobe Earthquake“) destroyed the city of 神戸 (Kobe, Japan).

A collapsed overpass after the Kobe Earthquake; 1995 January.

I know that I left out many important dates. Feel free to write any that you can think of in the comments section of this post.

And did you witness any historic events?

Art Deco Rosewood Bookcase

Originally uploaded by canonburyantiques

Stunning egg shaped modernist work of art – classic deco bookcase. Canonbury Antiques

The Edison & Ford Winter Estates received the Society of American Travel Writers (SATW) 2009 Phoenix Award at a reception at the Royal Palm Yacht Club, in Fort Myers, Florida on November 18, 2009.  The SATW Phoenix Awards recognize organizations actively involved in conservation, preservation and beautification that further the growth and appeal of North American travel destinations.   SATW President, Timothy O’Keefe, presented the award.

The annual award, given since 1969, is to recognize individuals or organizations actively involved in conservation, preservation, beautification and anti-pollution campaigns that further the growth and appeal of North American travel destinations.  The SATW is a non-profit professional association that works to promote responsible travel journalism and to provide professional support for its members. 

The Estates was nominated by Laurie Borman, SATW past president.  Borman said, “I saw an inspiring place where visitors can peek into the lives of two American geniuses.  These homes bring to life the exciting times and lifestyles of the 1920’s, as well as provide a compelling attraction to downtown Fort Myers.  I also visited the homes as a child on vacation, so it was especially gratifying to see that this treasure has been preserved for future generations to appreciate.”

Chris Pendleton, president & CEO of the Edison & Ford Winter Estates accepted the award and said, “We are grateful to the Society of American Travel Writers for this honor.  The Estates staff and Board of Trustees are proud of the newly completed $12 million restoration and will continue to preserve this national historic treasure to provide visitors with a unique historical, scientific, educational and cultural experience.”

For 2009 a total of five Phoenix Awards were designated, the others being, Journey Through Hallowed Ground, Waterford, Virginia; World Bird Center, McAllen, Texas; Gerding Theater at the Armory, Portland, Oregon; and Main Huts and Trails, Kingsfield, Maine.

Richard Halliburton's books and 2 unmarked photographs

Richard Halliburton, the famed American adventurer-travel writer, is a favorite of mine. Not only was his glamorous, exciting life inspiring and interesting, I came to”know” him when, some years back,  I purchased the two b/w photographs you see posted here. I was intrigued because the photo on the left is labeled “Baghdad Express” and the photo on the right is titled (hand-written) “Taj Mahal India .” I love vintage and antique photographs, so I bought these – more for the subject matter and the setting than for the person posing front and center in each. But as the days wore on, I began to think these were no ordinary tourist photos. They were too large, for one thing and had no mfg data on the front or back. I wanted to know who the sandy-haired, handsome stranger was and how he came to pose at these exotic sites. There was no clue as to his identity (not on the photos), as I began to search him out – googling Baghdad Express, for example(that led nowhere) My first intuition was that he was T.E. Lawrence, but as I scanned the photographs of Lawrence I found on the internet, I could see only a slight resemblance. Over the years, before and after I bought the photos at a thrift store, I had been collecting and selling rare books, especially vintage photography books. It was my habit to search out rare books once or twice a week – but only at thrift stores or library book stores. This is how I came upon my first Richard Halliburton book of photographs. I bought it for the wonderful antique photos.  Not until I began to look through the India Speaks (1933)  (which was also a movie, starring Halliburton) did I piece two and two together and realize the author looked just like the man in my b/w photos. No, not Lawrence, but Halliburton.

The psychic indication here is that I shortly came across two more Halliburton books each at different thrift stores  – all  seemingly accidentally The books are: The Glorious Adventure (1927)  and Richard Halliburton, the story of his life’s adventures (1940- shortly after he went missing and was presumed dead). Since I had “asked for more Halliburton books” and they popped up rather quickly, I believe I was either materializing these books or finding them clairvoyantly. I am not sure which category these “finds” fit in,  but the fact is, I will never sell the three Halliburton books and his photographs. They are a cosmic set, now. And, although I continue to scout around for rare books at thrift stores, I have never found another Halliburton.

The Flying Carpet reference in the title refers to the name of Halliburton’s global adventure in a bi-plane in 1930. During this globe-trotting expedition, he visited both Iraq and India – although I do not know if the photos are from that journey. Over the years, this bon vivant explorer, also swam the English Channel and romanced both women and men. His adventurous life, reportedly, influenced some of his writing contemporaries, including Hemingway and Fitzgerald. He was highly regarded for his courage and for his pioneering work as an adventurer,  travel writer (and travelogue actor). There doesn’t seem like much he couldn’t do, although he managed to get lost during a voyage he undertook on a Chinese Junk in 1939. He was 39 years old, and he was never seen nor heard from again.

Now that I have found Halliburton, I must note that on  two occasions I have traveled on a flying carpet of my own — visiting other locations in what I believe is called an out-of-body experience (OBE). This happened  once, when I was in my early 20s.  I had a very high fever and I journeyed far back in time. And once, a few months ago, when  I was asleep (or so, I thought). Both times I found myself looking down on the setting I had “flown” to – at a time and place I had never been. Some people are said to have had numerous OBEs; others none. But I like to think an OBE is a pioneering form of travel for a 21st Century adventurer. It has magical proportions – much like the trips Richard Halliburton took so many years ago.

Since the villa is now almost completely renovated we have decided as a family to take a trip down to the Riviera to enjoy a summer break for a few weeks. So Mama, Papa, Aunt Mimi, Sir Oliver, Millie and Henri and I take the overnight train and then drive to Cap d’Antibes in two cars that we have rented.

The Villa, Cap d'Antibes

When we arrive the lorry with masses of furnishings has also arrived from Paris and there is also Lorenzo who has been persuaded to come and join us from Italy and keep me company. We have a wonderful day emptying the lorry and placing all the furniture. I am thrilled to be able to hang all the paintings that I bought from Montparnasse. They cause a bit of a debate of course but I prevail. We have employed several local people as cook, housekeeper and gardener but they do not arrive until tomorrow. It is lucky Lorenzo is here because he had the good sense to bring with him in his car boxes of Italian delicacies and he cooks us the most amazing supper. He is such a resounding success that even Papa says “well my boy I suggest you get to London and open a restaurant.”

We take a few days to sort ourselves out, and Lorenzo and the cook argue in the kitchen each night. Papa and I discuss the landscaping of the garden and grounds and the building of a swimming pool with the gardener who will arrange and organise everything for us.

Interestingly, the older generation are not good at simply relaxing and doing nothing. Despite excellent food, brilliant sunshine, amazing surroundings, the gramophone, Mah Jong and charades, they miss the hustle and bustle of big city life and start complaining. I on the other hand have got Lorenzo, so I am perfectly content with doing very little. I have enough of a distraction. Millie and I also spend a lot of time teaching Lorenzo new dance steps and generally improving our own dancing technique. However, to ease the discontent, during the day, we start taking a few trips and take leisurely visits to Juan Le Pins and Antibes. But since most places are closed there are more outbursts.

One day we head for the sandy Plage Garoupe shaded by umbrella pines. We meet the American family of Gerald and Sara Murphy. Millie reminds me that Yvette, Henri’s sister, had told us that the Murphy’s had been here last summer with Cole Porter.

‘We are staying at the Hotel du Cap, Eden Roc’ Gerald tells us.

‘The hotel is usually closed from May to September but we persuaded the owner Antoine Sella to keep the place open with a skeleton staff this summer.’

He is thrilled when we tell him that we have bought and renovated the villa near to the hotel and suggests we join them for dinner, which we graciously accept.

We spend a pleasant afternoon swimming and lounging around and the Murphy’s extol the virtues of sunbathing. Lorenzo, Millie, Henri and I are appreciative but Mama and aunt Mimi huddle under a vast umbrella afraid of the sun. Gerald and Sir Oliver have a lot in common as they are both artists and converse for ages.

We have a delightful dinner at the Hotel du Cap. I had forgotten what a beautiful place and setting it is. This is where we came to sign the contracts for the villa back in February.  However, as the pleasantness of the dinner recedes, the grumbling gets too much and we are forced to leave early. Lorenzo comes with us. On our way back to Paris we take a detour to the luxurious surroundings of Aix-Le-Bains, or as all us Brits say ‘Aches and Pains’.

Poster for Aix-le-Bains

We arrive and check into the Splendid-Royal on the Rue Georges, just up above the main centre of the town next to the Excelsior. The more salubrious first-class hotels occupy commanding ledges that give sweeping views and a fresh mountain breeze that comes down from the pine covered peaks above. The Splendid-Royal is a model of architectural perfection and gets Aix’s smart summer crowd. It has a richly carpeted lobby, lined with heavy, blue marble columns, showcases from the best Paris shops and double-sized elevators, originally built to accommodate handicapped guests.

Splendid-Royal Hotel, Aix-le-Bains

Aunt Mimi tells Lorenzo ‘this hotel has become a favorite with Americans, because they find the usual match-box French elevators claustrophobic.’

I share a room with Lorenzo which is vast with big windows and a balcony, roomy enough for a cozy breakfast in the morning that opens onto a white alabaster terrace with a fabulous view. We congregate for lunch in the splendid dining room with impeccable service on metropolitan standards, which is full and lively and rather like being in a fashionable Parisian café.

View of Aix-le-Bains towards Lake Bourget

‘Ah this is much better’ says aunt Mimi glancing around nodding to people she thinks she knows.

‘I have no idea why you like that dreary spot on the Riviera at this time of the year’ says Mama. ‘This is where we should be. It is a perfect mix of elegance, good weather and correct company.’

‘Well’ says Millie with a sly smile ‘looks like you and Lorenzo will be spending the summer down there all alone next year.’

One of three Aixes in France, Aix-le-Bains of Savoy in the lower ranges of the French Alps is delightful and picturesque and I love being here. Perched on the banks of the beautiful Lac Bourget, which is eleven miles long and therefore the longest lake in France, it has become most fashionable mountain resort in Europe full of rugged crags hovering over deep wooded valleys.

View of mountains, Aix-le-Bains

In the afternoon we take a short stroll down into the town through some quaint streets that wind down the hill with some scenic views and the alpine rooflines behind us. Since Lorenzo has never been here before Mama and Aunt Mimi have taken it upon themselves to introduce him to Aix and I tag along. We reach the thermal establishment which is a veritable palace appropriately designed with a classic Roman façade but fitted with every modern up-to-date device to aid the natural powers of the waters.

Thermal establishment, Aix-le-Bains

Mama steps into guide mode as we wander around and says, as if we haven’t noticed…. ‘the Romans founded this health resort because of the spa and the natural powers of the waters in 122B.C. More recently, the King of Sardinia laid the foundations for another thermal spa in 1776. This new structure was created in 1857.’

She continues ‘Over a million gallons of water pour from Aix’s spring every day, hitting the surface at nearly 115 degrees. It provides the foundation for all treatments which vary according to the condition being treated from gout, nervous disorders, rheumatism, faulty blood circulation or arthritis.’

‘Of course all the ‘cure towns’ including Evian and Vichy have been made so luxurious, expensive and fashionable that many think ‘How can I be chic though sick?’ offers Aunt Mimi.

‘So you have to have the right kind of ‘chic’ malady?’ asks Lorenzo.

‘Of course. Overeating, overdrinking, insufficient use of the legs and too much wear and tear of the grey matter are chic’ replies Aunt Mimi with a laugh.

‘You see Lorenzo’ I say ‘ all the hotels are filled during the season with more or less perfect cases of overindulgence.’

In the centre of the town, just below the thermal establishment and opposite the town hall or Hotel de Ville, stands the arch of Campanus commemorating that illustrious Roman general’s soujourn here.

Place de Ville, Aix-le-Bains

Clustered around the sources, the park and the fountains are other hotels including the Villa Victoria. We walk further and wander around the delightful gardens and terraces associated with the entertainment centres of the Casino and the Villa des Fleurs. The Casino also called Le Grand Cercle was built in 1824 and is a large comfortable, rambling building with a multitude of rooms inside.

The Casino or Grand Cercle, Aix-le-Bains

The Villa de Fleurs is an equally sumptuous building. Both host excellent restaurants, a theatre, ballrooms and salons. We sit and take tea on the terrace at the Casino listening to a concert which is given daily and browse the programme of events for both venues.

Villa des Fleurs, Aix-le-Bains

Mama continues her lecture ‘Not only is it a cure town but Aix offers the most amazing array of entertainment since there are always many notable quests staying here. Of course Aix has many royal connections. Queen Victoria was a frequent visitor as was Victor Emmanuel II, Napoleon III, Wilhelmina, George of Greece and Leopold of Belgium. There will be fetes, galas and many dancing opportunities for you boys all with the right kind of girls.’

That night we have cocktails at the hotel and then make out way to the Casino for dinner. I am hugely delighted to see that Sielle and Mills, who we caught at L’Ours cabaret in Paris a few weeks ago, are the cabaret and they are once again magnificent. As the older generation drift off, we dance the night away in wonderful surroundings. Our earlier polishing of our dance routines in the villa, pays dividends and we are highly sought after as dancing partners for  a succession of charming ladies. It is very early in the morning and almost breakfast time when we walk up the hill to our hotel and we notice other people walking down the hill.

Henri says  ‘You see one half of Aix-les-Bains goes to bed about the time that the other half ventures to be parboiled and massaged.’

The next night we have dinner in the Villa des Fleurs and spend a great evening dancing in their ballroom. But in Aix-Le-Bains the dance craze doesn’t let up. Besides the casino and the villa there are always dances every night at each of the hotels and at La Polonaire and the Castel Bisolet.

Interior of Villa des Fleurs, Aix-le-Bains, during a gala night

We have a busy and pleasurable stay taking in the air, walks, boat rides on the lake, frolicking on the landscaped sandy beach and enjoying all the evening entertainment, not to mention a steady flow of impromptu invites to private cocktail parties and soirees. Obviously we do not make the regular early morning trek of mountain climbers with their knapsacks, spiked canes and long alpenstocks but do partake of some light tennis in the afternoon and watch boule. But, all too soon, it is time to leave and return to London via Paris.

1920’s
The Roaring 20’s were a traumatized generation’s reply to the utter horror that was World War I. The western world discovered that life was short, it can end horribly and you should be as happy as possible during it. In America, this decade of utter abandonment was fueled by great jazz, prohibtion and secret speakeasies. The 20’s were, fast, furious, and probably a bit dangerous. Prohibition sparked the American gang movement and the various Mafias were your bartenders. Moving Pictures glorified fashion and allowed the world to see what the stars wore. Hats with the brim pulled down and double breasted jackets looked great on men with a slinky ladies on their arms, wearing short beaded dresses, boas, and feathers in their hair. Jazz and a need to dance with abandonment was a great excuse to wear nothing but silk slips, a cloche hat and heels out on the town.

1930’s
Enter the Depression and a decade of very little change in fashion. Hems dropped back down to the calves and lower, and dresses were made and remade from practical fabrics and colors. People were existing on the littlest amount possible. A positive note was that jazz was gaining in celebrity, and suits reflected the jazz musician’s taste. Ladies would revive a well worn dress with handmade broaches and corsages of fabric flowers and bits, put on a hat and go out dancing all night. Movies and their stars began to influence fashion more than ever. And as the economy began to recover, people wanted to dress like the stars. In 1937, Lana Turner wore a tight sweater in They Won’t Forget, and started a sweater fashion trend that extended all the way into the 50’s.

  This is a photo of Margaret Gorman the 1st “Miss America”.  

In 1921 Margaret Gorman was named Miss America after winning a series of other competitions, including ‘Miss Washington, D.C.’ The other pageant titles that she had won were: Inter-city Beauty, Amateur; and The Most Beautiful Bathing Girl in America. She was expected to carry all three of her positions the following year after winning them however, someone else had already filled the position of Miss Washington D.C. and saying both of the other two titles was a mouthful.

For this reason, the term ‘Miss America’ was coined to encompass all of her titles in one. While every Miss America after her has been crowned in the early months of the year, Margaret Gorman was the only one to ever be awarded the title at the end of the year.

Two weekends ago, I had a college reunion with two out of the three roommates with whom I shared an apartment during my Junior and Senior years at Miami University.  Perhaps the biggest dilemma we encountered in an otherwise perfectly planned weekend was deciding where to eat with our respective girlfriends and/or brothers (in my case).  Once we came to the realization that it would be best to have the women in our lives pick the restaurant, we felt a sense of relief, yet a certain degree of anxiety over their choice of “Employees Only,” a 1920’s style Speakeasy on Hudson St.

It was our last night all together and we arrived at the restaurant shortly after our 6:00 p.m. dinner reservation.  Some of us were a little late getting to the place, probably because the address of 510 Hudson Street can be easily missed and/or confused for a “Pyschic,” as there is actually a fortune-teller in the window of the restaurant (see picture of me cautiously entering under the awning marked “EO” above)

Once we were all together and began to order cocktails (the menu of alcoholic beverages was quite ample), we all settled in nicely to our surroundings of what once was a place for local New Yorkers to convene during prohibition as they imbibed on beer and spirits.  My roommate, Jeff, suggested the Billionaire Cocktail, in order to evoke a kind of “Old Boys Club” feeling.  This drink contained bourbon shaken with lemon juice, homemade grenadine and absinthe bitters.  For $15, this not-so-cheap cocktail made me feel like I was the champion of the mahogany covered back room at Employees Only.

After a successful opening act to our festive meal, we proceeded to order what we thought was the best pairing of food and aperitif as if young adults in their early twenties could make such a decision.  I decided on “Orecchiette,” which contained house-made Italian sausage, arugula and parmesan cheese.  While, others in our party carefully chose the “Young Organic Chicken,” probably the safest thing in the menu, my brother took a risk by opting for the evening special of Trout over a bed of green vegetables.

Needless to say, I thoroughly enjoyed my meal and overall experience at Employees Only, a place which was not necessarily the cheapest, but definitely made me dream of the days when alcohol was illegal and women wore flappers, a 1920’s style outfit which often consisted of a short skirt, bobbed hair, and excessive make-up.  The whole idea was this kind of pervasion of societal norms by women who flaunted themselves through their dress, smoking and drinking habits as well as many other behaviors that were easily frowned upon.

Anyways, if you are ever in Manhattan, specifically in the West Village near the intersection of Christopher Street and Hudson Street, definitely give this place a try!  Lastly, here is some more information from New York Magazine:

Employees Only Menu – West Village – New York Magazine Restaurant Guide

Image via Wikipedia

… or end up with a face like a Russian flag.

In other words, be alert to the situation or you may get embarrassed!

Don’t panic, this is not some exercise on phrasal verbs, but part of a new book about US slang from the 1920s to the 1950s. It’s called Straight from the Fridge, Dad (Cool, or Obvious) and includes references to the gangster era like the following:

If you were free to run for President (unemployed) and became a dime-dropper (informer), you might be taken off the payroll (killed, assassinated) in Chicago lightning (gunfire) and end up in a Chicago overcoat (coffin) at a Cold Meat Party (funeral) while the gangster talks to a sinhound (priest) before sniffing Arizona perfume (going to the gas chamber).

No joke. Straight from the fridge, Dad.

Straight From the Fridge, Dad – A Dictionary of Hipster Slang

by Decharne, Max

NO EXIT PRESS £16.99

5748 Ayala Avenue