Not like Grandma’s

chef boy ar dee

Handwritten page of a diary dated September 10, 1961

… was getting dragged to Grandma’s house every Sunday but it was worth it (even though I know too many Louis Prima songs by heart now) because Grandma is the best cook in this world. Or even if Yuri Gagarin discovers another world, it won’t have a better cook. Grandma was born in Italy and I guess that’s where she learned a thing or two about tomatoes and basil. So we had the kind of Italian food that you can’t even get if you pay big moolah to eat downtown at Guiseppe’s Pasta Italiano. In fact I always dreamed that instead of getting a real job some day I would live my own La Dolce Vita by bottling Grandma’s sauce and hiring a crack team of salesmen to hock it to grocery stores.

But today Grandma brought a plate of raviolis to the table and everyone could tell they looked different. But looking different was only the start. These things tasted like bad news. So Dad asked where they came from, and he laid it on her about as nice as anyone coulda. Then Grandma says they came from a can!! She saw it in a magazine and thought how much easier it would be if she let Chef Boy-Ar-Dee do all the hard work. They promised it was “authentic.”

Man oh man, far as I’m concerned, Grandma’s house is now officially Nowheresville.

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Original image:
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Published in: on March 14, 2016 at 3:42 am  Leave a Comment  

Polka dot boxers

Handwritten page of a diary dated August 4, 1961

said “who knew the picture would end up in the local newspaper?”

Good gracious, I feel terrible. We all been swimming all morning. Then we heard a rumor that a photographer was driving around the campground so I rushed around trying to get Larry and the kids to put on whatever clothes I could quickly get my hands on. I threw Larry a T-shirt and some shoes and socks and got the kids dressed as best I could. They were hungry and fussy though, so I was just getting them a little snack and a bottle of Coca Cola before I ran in to put some clothes on myself. That’s when the photographer drove by.

Now Larry is mad at me. He said “it would’ve looked more natural if I’d been wearing just my swimming trunks. Now it looks like I was walking around in my boxer shorts.” I said, “hey Bub, I’m wearing my bathing suit too you know” and he said “But you look good, like you’re ready to go swimming. In fact, I look a pervert wandering around without my dungarees to different camps and just staring from afar at pretty young mothers in their revealing swimming suits.”

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Original image:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/foresthistory/3662146597/in/photostream/
Published in: on January 18, 2012 at 12:42 pm  Comments (3)