Family Archives

March 10, 2014

Brother Mark Gets Older

I was lucky enough to stumble across these negatives just in time for Brother Mark’s March 10 birthday. How old is he? I guess I could root around and find his birth year, but let’s just say (1) he’s younger than I am and (2) Mother, Kid Adam and I went to his 50th surprise party in St. Louis quite a few years back, so he’s on the far side of that.

I think it will suffice to say that he no longer has to fear dying young.

Look at all the cultural icons in one photo: the cowboy hat, shirt and vest; the pinch-your-finger-right-off rocking horse; the toy telephone of indeterminate color and something dark and round with feet. It looks like his second birthday, unless Mother had used up all her candles on Mark’s older brothers.

Christmas time

This shot of Mother, David, Mark and me was shot at Christmas. David, with his bow tie was the spiffy dresser of the crew. Mark looks like a deer caught in the headlights in the backwoods of Bollinger County.

Speaking of spiffy dressers

This is Dad’s brother Hubert, or “Unk” or “Uncle Hue.” He was the uncle every kid should have. He was funny, patient and enjoyed being around us kids. Uncle Mark followed in his footsteps.

Well, maybe not exactly: I don’t think I’ve ever seen Mark in an outfit like this.

Peaceful coexistence

Someone must have wanted to get a shot of David and Mark when they weren’t saying things like, “He’s looking at me” or “Make him STOP!” It was a LONG, LONG trip from Cape to Florida and back in 1960.

Afternoon at Grace and Guy’s

I actually like this as an image. We spent a lot of time under these shade trees at Grace and Guy Gardiner’s house in Advance. Mother is on the left and Grandmother Elsie Welch is on the right with David. Mark, the center of attention as usual, is in the foreground with his orange push-up.

Those hours of listening to oldtimers talk about taming Swampeast Missouri had an influence, I’m sure. It’s funny how the world works: one day we’re a kid listening to old farts spinning tales, and the next thing we know, we’ve taken their place.

Monkey, Buick and my bike

Brothers David and Mark pose next to our 1959 Buick LaSabre station wagon. Mark is dressed in some kind of strange jumpsuit and he’s holding a stuffed animal. It’s hard to make out, but I think it might have been a monkey. Off on the right is one of the few photos I’ve been able to find of my bike. It looks like it might have my Missourian paper bag in the front basket.

Chillin’ in the pool

I didn’t get to spend much time in the Country Club swimming pool, but that didn’t matter. We Steinhoff boys had our own pool in the backyard. I think Mark was housebroken by the time we got the pool.

So, Mark, here’s wishing you a Happy Whatever Birthday.

March 7, 2014March 9, 2014

How Do You Answer the Phone?

I’ve touched on my negative love for cell phones in the past. I carried two-way radios on my belt for 25+ years and never minded that because they were designed as communication devices to be used only when you wanted to exchange important information.

When I became telecommunications manger and had to ride herd on hundreds of wireless devices, I was convinced they were the spawn of the devil.

When I was working, I carried two cell phones, each on a different carrier, because I was the Fone Guy. After I retired, I put all my eggs in one Verizon HTC Droid Incredible basket. The model served me well until just recently when it started misbehaving. Today it locked up, requiring me to pull the battery to do a cold boot. It flashed some debug code on the screen, popped up a couple icons, one shaped like a tombstone with RIP engraved on it, and died. It eventually rose from the dead, but I decided 2008 to 2014 was a pretty good run and maybe it was time to get a new phone.

If you wonder what the photo has to do with the story, it’s something I noticed when I was at Ohio University’s Alden Library last fall. It was striking how many students passed by with a glowing screen cradled in their hands.

I now own a Motorola Droid Ultra

Here are more students with their electronic nooses. The guy on the down escalator at Baker Center looks like he’s holding a tablet, but he’s actually a dinosaur: he’s holding – Egads! – an actual sheet of paper. I showed in another post how more folks were interesting in texting and taking selfies than watching the OU football game they were attending.

The folks at the Verizon store on North Lake Blvd. in Lake Park have been a pleasure to deal with. Michael Valerio patiently showed me what devices were available. He actually listened when I told him I didn’t really care about taking photos, playing music, texting or putting something on my belt that was the size of a TV tray, and pointed me to the Motorola Droid Ultra. The price was right – Free, except for a $30 upgrade fee and the need to buy an Otterbox Defender Series case to protect it.

Getting all my old aps back was a lot simpler than the first time I went through the drill. It’ll take some time to get stuff where I’m used to seeing it, but I’m pleased with how many things things come built into the phone that I used third-party aps for in the past.

There was one problem, though. I had the phone charging behind me when I heard a strange noise. I hadn’t set up the ringtones yet, so I didn’t recognize that a call was coming in. When I picked up the phone, I could see it was Curator Jessica calling, but I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out how to ANSWER the bleeping phone.

That was never a problem with my old Motorola MX340 two-way radio.

March 3, 2014

Books from Dad

Shortly after I started Central High School, Dad came home with four book under his arm. I don’t think it was any special occasion or if they wrapped in gift paper. I don’t even remember if he said anything when he handed them to me unless it was, “Here are some books you might find useful.”

They were

Webster’s New World Dictionary of the American Language
Roget’s International Thesaurus
Merriam-Webster’s Synonyms
Robert’s Rules of Order

Why these books?

As I type these, I have to wonder who told him this would be a useful combination. Dad was a smart guy, but he constructed roads and bridges, not words and paragraphs. I can’t think of anywhere he would have been exposed to Robert’s Rules of Order.

Still, those books served me all the way through high school, got packed up to go to Ohio University, and were thumbed through at papers in Ohio, North Carolina and Florida.

I’m shuffling stuff around in my office to make more efficient use of space, so I took the books down this afternoon. I flipped to the front pages to see if he had written anything in the flyleaves.

No, he was a strong believer in never engraving on or writing in anything that you might need to sell or pawn some day.

They’re a little worse for the wear, and they wouldn’t bring anything at the pawn shop, but they are priceless to me.

March 2, 2014

1961 Buick Magazine

Y’all are probably tired of hearing me mention the family’s 1959 Buick LaSabre station wagon, but that vehicle is why I have a copy of the February 1961 Buick Magazine. In it, readers get to rhapsodize over the features in their new and old Buicks.

F.G. Chambers of Cincinnati, Ohio, is very pleased with his 1961 Invicta, which he is convinced is better than his 1957 Special and gets better gas mileage. He brags that his buddy, has a “much more expensive competitive make that doesn’t ride any better and that certainly doesn’t have the smooth transmission of my Buick.” In addition to power brakes, power steering and windows, he has the guidematic light dimmer and rear window defroster. “I also have my car equipped with Wonder-Bar Radio. That floor button control is out of this world.”

Buick demographics

If you are curious about the demographics of Buick owners in those days, just check out the cutline for the photo at the bottom right of this spread on New Orleans: “DRESSED APPROPRIATELY for the occasion, two attractive young [emphasis mine] ladies look on the Mardi Gras fun”. You had to be a Buick owner to think those are “young” ladies. I don’t think they could see young with a telescope.

On a second note: Missourian Editor John Blue impressed on me that “You never write that a female was a lady. You can tell if she is a woman, but you don’t know that she’s a lady.”

Control Arm Suspension

The driver if this car doesn’t seem at all nonplussed to find herself on a raft afloat on a nondescript body of water. She doesn’t even seem concerned that a couple of hooligan fisherboys are apt to scratch her paint job. In 1961, the portholes are still there, but the fins are disappearing.

Cypress Gardens

I was just looking at footage of Cypress Gardens in family home movies from when we went to Florida in 1961. The Gardens were living-breathing PR machines for Florida. They even had a photo booth where you could call your friends up in the frigid north and describe to them the action flying by. If you weren’t all that good at photography, the announcer would tell you the exposure settings before the skiing beauties passed by.

Testimonials

Peter Jay Noto of Oaklawn, Illinois, wrote, “Every two years I buy a new car. I travel quite a bit being an actor, and Buick offers me the best performance together with complete pleasure. My next one will be a 1961 Buick Convertible.”

That name didn’t ring a bell, so I turned to Google. The only reference that popped up was on Page 10 of the June 29, 1960, Economist Newspapers where a gossip column by Vic Short said, “Peter Jay Noto reminds me he read the leading male role for “Living Venus” as mentioned here a few weeks back, but movie producer Lewis said that play wasn’t Pete’s particular cup of tea, that the Oaklawn theater guild actor would be better cast in a teenage flicker.”

Living Venus sounds imminently forgettable, but it did serve as the film debut of Harvey Korman.

Old Jackson Road

The magazine came to Mr. and Mrs. L.V. Steinhoff, courtesy of Wiethop Buick Sales at Sprigg and William. I was pretty sure that’s where Dad bought our LaSabre, but I would have sworn it was called Clark Buick.

I’m not sure when Kingsway Drive quit being called Old Jackson Road.