Passed a hideous car accident on the way to the gym today. The front of a KIA was completely pancaked. Two other cars were off to the side, each less crumpled but the sort of condition that makes you draw a quick breath. I assumed that the KIA was stolen and the crash was the result of someone blowing an intersection. Usually doesn’t happen down here, though. About ten blocks later I’m heading down a one-way to a green light, and a guy - no, AN IDIOT turns left on the light, heading the wrong way, right at me. HONK and SCREECH and he backed up.

But he waved sorry, so there's that.

Parked and went to the gym and did everything and then some. That was the extent of my downtown sojourn, since I'm on vacation. But, you say, isn't the gym in your office building? It is. I get my stuff from my cube and work and put it back and leave. So even though it's "vacation" I am where I am anyway. The difference is that instead of having much less to do, I have absolutely nothing to do. It's not very rewarding. The office now feels like a hotel after you've checked out of your room.

The other day I was in that sargasso-sea part of the late middle afternoon, and and click-click boredom led to a page in Parade magazine, 1950. It lacked the features I grew up with, like . . . oh come on, tip of my tongue here. Something celebrity, written by . . . Shearer? Lloyd Shearer? No, it was a name like a Scottish novelist. Walter Scott, that was it. Personality Parade. Googling . . .

Written by Lloyd Shearer. Well there you go. From the Wikipedia article on Parade:

The magazine had a lag time to publication of about ten days, which occasionally caused the magazine to print statements that were out of date by the time Parade was publicly available in a weekend newspaper.

The January 6, 2008, edition cover and main article asked whether Benazir Bhutto was "America's best hope against Al-Qaeda," but on December 27, 2007, she had been assassinated.

I’d forgotten about that. Anyway, the 1950 version had a column by Hy Gardner. A laff riot:

Don’t know if he was writing any of that, or just signing off. Most of his columns had a breezier tone, jangly with that post-war hep-cat lingo of the guys who’d come through the war, made out okay, took a few days in Havana to unwind. Let’s just say he was in his forties in the Fifties, which somehow says it all, and I’m not sure why.

From his NYT obit in ’89:

Mr. Gardner's style was an art form that, if not lost, is seldom practiced any more. He began a 1954 column like this:

''Sipping a daiquiri at La Floridita in Havana, I met one of my favorite persons, Ernest Hemingway. Hemingway has a way of quaffing these famous Floridita daiquiries which reminds me of the old gag Olsen and Johnson used for 'Helzapoppin' . . . .''

Howzabout you tell us the gag? Can’t leave us hanging like that. Do I have to do everything around here

Found it.

In Havana, I met one of my favorite persons, Ernest Hemingway, Hemingway has a way of quaffing these famous Floridita daiquiris which reminds me of the old gag Olson and Johnson used for years in "Helzapoppin." The bit, as you most likely remember, involved a stooge walking down the aisle carrying a small plant and paging a Mrs. Jones. He'd repeat the gag throughout the show, and each time the plant would grow larger. By the time the final curtain rang down, the vendor would still be paging Mrs. Jones in the lobby while leaning against a giant palm tree.

A Hemingway Daiquiri Hemingway's act is similar. His first serving of a daiquiri is in the usual cocktail glass. Then next is a double, served in a champagne glass. Eventually a highball glass is set down in front of him, whereup he makes doubly certain that not a drop is lost. He wraps a paper napkin around the glass, removes a heavy rubber band from his pocket, and twists it above the center of the glass so that it cannot slip from the hand that never lost its touch.

That’s a long way to go, Hy.

Hellzapoppin' is one of those forgotten cultural totems that has absolutely no cultural status today. Here's your Mrs. Jones moment at the end.

Bear with me as we continue to document my obsession: The Color. It's still dominant, at least in the NFL Sunday ads. Let us ask ourselves what, exactly, is attractive about this aesthetic approach.

It's an Apple ad for the card.

Dim, smoky, drab, with The Color adding . . . what? Not life. Not vivacity.

Do you want to follow this guy's advice? Is this a world you find interesting and appealing?

Boner and/or hair pill add.

Does this resemble the world in which you live, or might possibly find yourself?

Another Apple ad about a video shot on the iPhone:

Why? WHY? They all know everyone's using the color. They all know it's a played-out hue.

It is just pandering to clients who think that it's still a hip and distinctive look?

It’s 1915. Just three today, because there’s so much here.

Notions and Fancy Goods is the trade publication.

Some of the many? Would seem to be one, and that’s steampunk eyepiece.

“Goodbye old Hook Eye.”

Lord, did this one turn out to be well-documented.

Jindřich Waldes (also Heinrich Waldes or Henry Waldes; 2 July 1876, Nemyšl – 1 July 1941, Havana) was a leading industrialist, founder of the Waldes Koh-i-noor Company, Czech patriot of Jewish origin and art collector.

Thank Puc:

In 1902 together with an engineer Hynek Puc (1856–1938) Waldes left Lokesch and founded his own company. A year later Puc invented a special machine that inserted a small spring into concealed dress fasteners, the main product of the new firm.

Now it gets fun:

The world-renowned Waldes trademark, Miss KIN, came about in 1912 when Waldes on his ocean trip met Elizabeth Coyne, who playfully put one fastener in her eye. František Kupka painted her portrait in oils and Vojtěch Preissig from it designed the firm’s trademark.

The company’s logo today:

		She's still working.

More:

On 1 September 1939 Waldes was imprisoned by Gestapo after the Third Reich occupation of Czechoslovakia and kept in concentration camps Dachau and Buchenwald, arriving in Dachau on September 10, 1939 and transferred to Buchenwald on September 26 of the same year.

In 1941 his family, who were sent to USA by Waldes before the war (he decided to remain in Prague as a Czech patriot) paid the Nazi authorities 8 million Czech crowns (about 1 Million Reichsmarks or $250,000 US) ransom. In Buchenwald he suffered a diabetic attack, and was in the prison hospital from 11 April 1940 until his release on 2 June 1941.

The Gestapo then transported Waldes by plane to Lisbon, Portugal, where he boarded a United States-bound ship. However, Waldes did not survive the journey to the USA and died under suspicious circumstances on the ship which stopped at Havana, Cuba in May 1941.

Then Koh-i-Noor was a famous diamond, by the way.

Mr Horrax assures you:

This was his store. The building went up in 1900.

Lovely details. They cared about these things.

If I’m correct, he had been dead for five years when this ad ran. Why do I think that? A 1910 Obit for a New York importer.

I’m not sure I want my rubber live:

Russell had a huge facility.

They made more than fresh live rubber:

By the 1920's, the company diversified and began producing brake linings and clutch facings. By the 1940's, it was also making aero safety belts, parachute shrouds, solid woven transmission belting, ladder tape for Venetian blinds, and suspender, garter and corset webs. The company-owned dam at Crystal Lake broke in 1964, causing flooding in Middletown and litigation problems for Russell.

I’ll bet it did.

		Feb 1960: the company says “hey, do you want the dam? Give you a good price.”

Apparently Russell wanted to be shot of the thing, what with the expense of it all, and locals wanted the dam to remain, to ensure the continuance of a public beach. People who had cottages on the lake wanted the city to buy the dam.

I can’t tell where the dam is today, but it looks like a lovely place.

The original factory . . .

A portion of the original factory remains.

But not much.