Living in a Bohemian neighborhood

 

Like many recent college graduates, I ended up in a Bohemian neighborhood after leaving my home in New Jersey. In some ways, I started my adult life in the Capitol Hill neighborhood in Denver Colorado. Miraculously, I found a job within two days of moving to Denver. Leaving the downtown hotels, I walked around at random and found an apartment with a "to rent" sign on East 17th Avenue. The lady wanted $125 a month and I had my new home in a railroad apartment. 

This area of Northern Capitol Hill had all the earmarks of a Bohemian neighborhood. Within a few blocks was an Avant Garde theatre, a movie revival house, a hip record store, several bars, a nightclub, coffee houses and a vegetarian grocery store. One interesting feature of the grocery store was a peanut butter machine that ground peanuts and deposited the mixture to a jar placed below the machine. It's the only time I saw one of those machines. 

In my spare time I worked for a fledgling radio station that never got off the ground and through my New Jersey contact got invited to a variety of art openings. The food was always good at these things. One lesson I learned is not to allow a fledgling artist to paint a living room. Lessons learned. 

Over time I switched jobs and decided to buy a condo in Southeast Denver and left Capitol Hill. By that time many of the aforementioned haunts had closed and the place lost some of its luster. Today the area, like many bohemian districts, is no longer affordable for the young and recent graduates have to make do with Mom and Dad's finished basement. 

Editor's note: A good guide to Capitol Hill is Phil Goldstein's Denver's Capitol Hill. I remember his walking tours where he walked backwards through the neighborhood, 

Ties

 I recently finished an article in the New Yorker. It is an amusing piece on the history of ties. Made me think of how ties used to be everywhere and now they are hard to find in a normal day.  Growing up, wearing a tie was de rigeuer. They even remedied the danger of going to high school on your first day without wearing a tie.

A man wearing a tie meant that he was a grownup, and if you're a kid, not someone to be trifled with. Teachers, bankers, the man across the street with a briefcase, even dear old Dad. They all wore ties. For a boy, ties and jackets were worn on Sundays at church and special occasions. Fortunately for me, I attended a public school where I could dress as my mother saw fit, usually in a plaid shirt. 

Ties started to fade a bit after Vatican 2. Catholics could hear the mass in English and seemingly the tie and jacket mandate seemed to fade also. I seemed to remember going relatively tie-less until I embarked on the post college job interview trail. There's the old saw about the hippie who cuts his hair, shaves his beard, and wears his late uncles' tie and jacket for an interview. Not completely a legend. 

When I moved out west to pursue my fortune after being disappointed with job prospects in the northeast I lived in a relatively tie-less universe. Coming back to New Jersey to pursue my languishing professional degree, the tie manifested itself again in my life. Working as a public librarian I kept the tie on even after the dress code was revived. I figured a man with a tie could   better get the attention of a group of loud teenagers hanging out on a reference area table 

Apparently, it was the covid and working from home which ultimately killed the tie, at least according to the aforementioned New Yorker article. Used to working in their underwear, the returning to the office staffer was not going to suffer the indignity of wearing a tie. Anyway, ties don't work with t-shirts. 

Editor's note: In many Christian denominations, ties and jackets are still generally worn at church. 

Happy 5th of July

 A day late and a .... Here is an oldie but a goodie based upon my sojourn in Denver Colorado in the 80s. New product in July., 

So much for living in a cashless society

 

We have been hearing for years that we are moving to a cashless society. For younger people especially, I have noticed that they pay for everything with a card or swiping their phones. Recently, however, I have noticed statements like "there is a five percent fee for credit cards" on restaurant menus. Getting my car fixed, I was told that I could save two hundred dollars if I paid with cash. I was surprised, but my bank happily gave me cash at the counter which I used to pay my bill. Hmmm.  In additon I have noticed that when I buy gummies I have to pay cash.  So much for a cashless society. 

The time I slept in the Rutgers president's office

 

One of the stories I used to tell is of the time I slept in President Bloustein's , president of Rutgers, office. The recent stories of college students occupying offices has rekindled in me fond memories, including the time I joined a protest at Rutgers against the incursion of troops into Cambodia which ended in my sleeping in the university president's office on Old Queens. I remember marching down College Avenue, me and my sleeping bag, and finding a nice quiet niche in the office to retire for the evening. 

Early the next morning Ed Bloustein arrived at his office and pleasantly but sternly told us that we had a right to protest but that we would be wise to use other means than encroaching upon his office. We all greeted the president a fond adieu and I went on to my classes, presumably after disposing of my sleeping bag in my dorm room. 

Editor's note: The recent student unrest has made many baby boomers nostalgic for the good old days of Vietnam demonstrations. I suspect Generation X is not impressed. 

Mr. Mustache discovers Taylor Swift

I remember one night I was sitting in my room, age 11, listening to Mary Wells sing "My Guy" and I promised myself I would always listen to popular music, no matter how old I got. Looking back I realize I did not keep my word. From grunge to hip hop to Celine Dion to Beyonce to that new woman they always talk about, I have continued to ignore the current superstars of today. 

Last week I opened up YouTube and guess who was on. I started watching Fortnite and yelled, "It's surrealism! Like Salvatore Dali!".  So now I am sharing it with you. I know that people are bored with Princess Megham, so it is nice to find someone else to obsess about, even someone with a football connection. Unfortunately, I found most of her songs are too monotonous. However, I now can say I know who she is and have seen the video to one of her songs. 

 

We love our children

 Part of being a child in America is the burden of selling things to the parents, their parents' friends, relatives and neighbors. I remember as a tot being given twenty packets of seeds to be sold and the proceeds going to our school. Mom and Dad bought seeds, which I duly planted in our family plot. Neighbors also bought seeds with the proviso that our family would in turn buy Girl Scout cookies. In Boy Scouts I was given Christmas wreaths to be sold. We also had to sell magazines if we wanted to be in the band. 

Junior comes home from school. "I'm in the band!"

"Great, Mother says, what's that bag you are carrying?"

"Oh I have to sell twenty t shirts. They come in all sizes, How many do you want, Mom?"

Yesterday a grand niece sent me an email. "How sweet," I thought. Turns out it was from Snap Raise and it was so she could make her goal of an $850 contribution to her cheerleading squad. I gave $25. Now does that mean I can deduct $25 from her birthday gift? My friend said I shouldn't be cheap.