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It is my sincere desire to provide readers of this site with the best unbiased information available, and a forum where it can be discussed openly, as our Founders intended. But it is not easy nor inexpensive to do so, especially when those who wish to prevent us from making the truth known, attack us without mercy on all fronts on a daily basis. So each time you visit the site, I would ask that you consider the value that you receive and have received from The Burning Platform and the community of which you are a vital part. I can't do it all alone, and I need your help and support to keep it alive. Please consider contributing an amount commensurate to the value that you receive from this site and community, or even by becoming a sustaining supporter through periodic contributions. [Burning Platform LLC - PO Box 1520 Kulpsville, PA 19443] or Paypal
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Part of what made them the good ol days is that we protected innocence and let kids be kids.
I don’t know how old you are; 90s? But I was a kid in the 60s.
Then you may have ridden your bicycle (without a helmet) behind the mosquito spraying truck. No side effects I know of but later in life I asked myself why the hell would one ride a bike behind a mosquito spraying truck?
We loved the smell.
Yes we all did that in my town in the 60’s
HA – I was just thinking about that a couple days ago. My brother and I would join the entire neighborhood of kids and follow that truck around for blocks! As this was like 68-69-70, was that DDT?
If you haven’t grown tusks or a prehensile tail by now, probably not.
Hopefully not Malathion.
That most definitely does not have a nice smell.
My granddad would use that on the fruit trees. I only helped him a couple times spraying them when I was a teenager, but he had me spraying while he drove the cub with the spray set up on it. No protection, and it just rained down on both of us. Probably did it that way for as long as he ever did it.
He didn’t die from it, and so far neither have I. Children all seem fine too.
Y’all are crazy. I just remember I always happened to be playing outside when it would come around.
Then you were sheltered. All I can say.
More than likely.
Yeah, it was different thinking “back” then. And imagine the bucks “government” and tax payers have paid out as a result of Agent Orange being “harmless”. That sucks and never mind those that smoked three packs of cigarettes a day got the disability.
Fuck ya. Usually a Harley trike 😂
Can you image the Karen’s Lord almighty smh
40s-60s ha ha. Kids got out of the house in the daytime except for lunch and dinner etc.
And most people kept their opinions to themselves
Like never discuss politics or religion. Amen
The Burger Haven photo reminded me of the DeSoto FireDome my brother inherited from my Aunt Lurine.
Civil behavior vs. primates.
I guess that is better than beating (or worse) on the white women. Funny how there is all them, but no white male folk that I can see. Course the day ain’t done.
Free Range Kids. Be home by the time the street lights come on.
Drink water from the garden hose.
Make Evil Kenevl jumps for that Schwinn bicycle. …..Crash on the soft lawn. – Repeat.
Brakes ? Helmet ? Knee-pads ? What’s that ?
So, I’m not the only one who uses that term. I was sure that I personally coined it. Where I moved from in Tennessee, the neighborhood and I’m sure a lot of Middle Tennessee had lots of Free Range kids. Never a parent in sight. As a former UPS driver. One mom kept hinting and I kept ignoring. It was a target rich environment in those days. I do miss em, but I married a good woman, not necessarily a fun one.
So much fun.
Lots of good stuff. We have two copies of that Eddie Money LP. The wife, before we got married won a radio call in thing where the prize was that record and one for a friend.
Very first thought, schwiing; who put Marisa Tomei in there? Stucky’s in the 60s; those pecan rolls were killer. Now they’re full of the typical garbage, half the size and twice the price. I hear a relative is trying to restore it all to its former glory, but I’ll likely never know. I remember eating in those plastic bowls. And Valentine’s Day at grammar school was fun. We always had those little mailboxes we made ourselves and had to get mommy to buy those silly cards and candies. It was fun though. My step-sister had a Lite Brite. But WTF is Eddie Money doing in there? I think his debut album was around 1976 if not mistaken.
I’ve made pickled eggs, but in my experience, the best pickled eggs come from a bar after midnight. Also pickled turkey gizzards. All the best bars have a jar of pickled something behind the bartender.
Pickled sausage? Oh yea! There was a local butcher that sold his “famous” Rudis polish sausage. Mm mm mmmm
Pickled pigs-feet!
(My dad had a bar in the ’60’s)
My White nephew bought some pickled pigs feet in a Black grocery story. The cashier kept asking “Are these yours? You know what these are, right? You sure you want to buy these? What are you going to do with these?”
Pickled eggs and draft beers in the bar, the night before a morning road trip.
Uh-huh. I wanted to cream those rank bastards I had to ride with in a car.
Now, you take a slice of Ma Cohen’s pickled or creamed herring, and slap that on a Nabisco saltine or a Crunchmasters multi grain cracker, beside taking away the hunger pangs, herring is good for ya.
But, many can’t or will not acquire a taste for it.
It’s one step removed from opening a tin of sardines, w/ crackers.
That’ll drive the chickies away faster than garlic breath.
Hey. That’s your OUT, if a fugly Large Marge, haulin’ a barge is trying to hit on you in said bar. Toss back a couple of pickled eggs, and let the yolk cake stay between your teeth, then smile at her, and tell her Not Tonight,
butterball, er ‘cup.
Might cost ya kick in the shins, but when you’re 60, who cares?
Anchovies.
Beer.
NJ.
I have a half gallon of homemade pickled eggs sitting on top of the refrigerator, almost ready to eat. I am down to the last egg of the previous batch.
Easy recipe: Boil and shell your eggs, pack them into your jar. Two dozen will just fill a half gallon. Fill your jar of eggs with undiluted white vinegar, then pour the vinegar off into a pan (that way you have just the right amount when you pour it back into the jar), and put it on the stove to heat. Add three tablespoons salt, two tablespoons sugar, heat and stir to dissolve. Pour hot vinegar back into the jar of eggs. Wait a week, then eat. If you like your eggs really sour, drain off half the now weakened vinegar and refill with fresh vinegar. Add in some beet juice if you like the color.
No pickling spices, huh? Makes sense. The ones I made with pickling spices were too fancy.
1st pick. I never wore a helmet riding a bicycle as a kid. Riding mountain bikes as an adult I wore one. I tried a 3-wheeler one time with no helmet not that the helmet matters. Having been accustomed to riding motorcycles for years I would lower whichever foot for the direction I was turning. Long time no ride, I believe the foot maneuvers are how most folks ride motorcycles while turning. DON’T do that on a three wheeler! Fortunate the leg was not broken.
i’ve got some pretty good scars from those three wheeled demons
They said Stretch-Armstrong was ” unbreakable ” ……
Challenge accepted , we showed them
They didn’t show that, but my mom was amazed that I must be the only kid who could break both, Tonka trucks and Fischer Price toys.
The arcade at the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk still has skee-ball, Eddie Money has played there recently, and the twin seat sky lifts were a feature until recently (I think, it’s been awhile since I’ve gone). As far as the Valentines, the kinds used little boys used to give out to all the little girls, back in 1962 was my last time. I tried to give one to a very cute black girl named Alisha, and her ugly pig tailed sidekick said “You need to stick with your own people” etc and I said “Only Alisha can tell me that” and I was told by her silence she agreed. That was the last time I passed those out.
I gave a special card to a girl named “Bobbie”, I saw her at our 40th reunion and she still looks at me like she still loves me, 50 some years later. Still purdy as ever. Like Eddie says ” I wanna go back…”
Your mind is playing tricks. Did y’all hook up?
Is that the Santa Cruz arcade in the pictures (with the chairlift)? I thought so. Took my kids on that >20 years ago. They were squirming 20 feet in the air, but I had my death grip on them.
I miss the original Lifebuoy soap. It was all grandma and grandpa had in their house. You can still find it, but is is manufactured in Cyprus, of all places. Thanks for the walk down Memory Lane.
Don’t know if I’m spelling it correctly, but do any of y’all remember McLeans toothpaste?
I recall the TV ads for Lifebuoy soap. I remember well my grandmother washing my mouth with Dial Gold bar soap after I said “shit”.
Well, Obama achieved his goal.
Uncertain which gender restroom Lady Caitlyn used in Trump Tower.
I miss it all, and reflect too much. I even miss how cool Bruce Gender was at one time.
Holy smokes. That bushka on the far left in the Security Cameras photo has more chins than a Chinese phone book.
I bet she knew how to cook, tho.
Special place in the hearts of grandchildren across the land, for those who had a Granny like that. Full of love and generosity, patience, care, and advice, with a dash of discipline.
They don’t make ’em like that anymore.
Speaking of babushkas, the Evil Empire better think twice about taking on Russia in the Ukraine…
That meme was floating when Ron Paul ran for president.
See rock city
Buy stuckeys pecan bars
Drink coca cola
Every time you stop your car
Stuckeys sign sent me down a rabbit hole
SEE ROCK CITY
(Bud Foote)
I love to go out riding, out in the countryside;
I jump into my automobile and go out for a ride.
I love smell the air in my air conditioned Ford,
but especially I love the scenery
That I see along the road.
Cho:
SEE ROCK CITY! Buy a Stuckey’s pecan bar;
Drink a Coca – Cola Next time you stop your car.
Buy my fresh watermelon, Tht I got from the A & P;
You can ride down the line past a hundred miles of signs and
never see a tree.
I’m going back to nature on a brand new set of shocks;
I love to see the little streams come tricklin’ down the rocks;
I love to watch birds and bees go wheelin’ through the sky,
But at seventy all I can see is letters ten feet high. (Cho.)
Last week I thought I’d stay at home, my car was in the shop;
I went down to the tavern to get some soda pop.
After I’d been there about an hour or so, I went off to the head;
But instead of lies about girls and guys,
On the men’s room wall I read: (Cho.)
I see a fellow and a girl a-walkin’ down through a shady glen;
I see that fellow kiss that girl again and again and again.
I see him take out his jack-knife, to carve into the bark of the tree;
But instead of a dart going through two hearts,
I was the same old idiocy. (Cho.)
I’ve got a girl named Suzy, she’s big and fat and wide.
I took her ridin’ in the country, and we parked off to the side.
When I finally got my hand in her dress, it made my face turn red;
Across her tail was a sign in Braille, and this is what it said: (Cho.)
Rock City is great.
I like Rock Springs in central Florida. One improvement besides electronic ignition and fuel injection was a little shorter skirts; those dresses to the mid calves look like the Dark Ages.
Thanks again, Avalon.