Rare, Collectible, & Otherwise

Tag: bookstores (Page 39 of 107)

Aye! It was another time, then…

Before Ronald there was a big hamburger-headed guy in a chef’s hat holding a placard that read: 15¢ (I had to Google the method for inserting a cents sign “¢” – Sheesh. Not on the keyboard anymore.)

I was doing a little research in a newspaper database when I ran across the ad from 1959. The little hamburger-man has on his sign: I’m Speedee.

And I guess that was his name.

aMcDonaldsSign

As you can see, some things have changed from that year. The BIG TRIPL-THICK extra heavy MILK-SHAKES aren’t 20¢ any longer. And the dinner suggestion? (The fine print in the ad that didn’t reproduce so well from the newsprint archive.) That reads:

And don’t forget our wonderful hamburgers! Tender, juicy all-beef on toasted buns. Only 15¢. Bring the whole family in TONIGHT… a full meal of a hamburger, a milk-shake, and French Fries for only 65¢

Look for me at Speedee McDonald’s drive-ins, he says.

Since there is little risk of dating myself further than I already have on these webpages, I’ll admit that my earliest memories of McDonald’s were of a location that looked like the one in the image. 15¢ burgers.

aMcDonaldAd

We were late to the McDonald’s location club when I graduated high school at McAlester. More than likely, Tulsa had the nearest location. As an underclassman in high school at Joplin, one of the seniors bet another that he could easily eat a $50 meal. I’m sure he was thinking prime rib or Surf & Turf, and the idea that the bill for such a meal could easily run to that amount.

His wiseacre buddy (you guessed it) stopped the car at McDonalds. As you might imagine, there was no way that he made it through even ten bucks worth of burgers. (That would have been about 65 of those tender, juicy, all-beef jobbers.)

Another thing I’ve learned as a result of researching over the years. You can’t always believe what you read on the internet. A McDonald’s WIKI listing says that the Golden Arches date to 1962, but they are clearly visible in the 1959 newspaper ad background.

Something you may not have known – the restaurant was founded in 1940 as a barbecue spot, by Maurice and Richard McDonald. It was Ray Kroc that took them nationwide and later bought out the brothers.

Speedee was retired in 1967 when Ronald McDonald donned his red nose and baggy pants.

The clown has long-outlived the 15¢ hamburger and the 20¢ Tripl-Thick Milk-Shake.

Don’t have burgers here, but we have some tasty, hand-prepped sandwiches made to order. Don’t even own a heat lamp. And Dustin’s Chalkboard Special today – quesadillas with handmade guacamole and salsa and borracho beans… South of the Irish Border, and… Delicious!

Come visit!

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main St. Broken Arrow OK!

It doesn’t add up. Not anymore.

In the confrontation between the book and the calculator, it was the hardback that emerged victorious. It was the book that took the dive though, straight from the edge of the counter onto the desktop where the machine suffered the full force of the blow.

It was no knockout. Still, it was a solid jab, one that took out the little Casio’s zero key completely. Alas – the machine was unable to continue and had to be carried from the bout.

A career-ending blow.

And it was an old book, throwing its weight around. Didn’t even suffer a scratch.

aCalculator2

I mention the loss of a (fairly) cheap calculator, because it doesn’t happen often to me. Having had office supplies for most of my adult life, I’ve managed to keep most of the mechanical things functional. The stapler at the front desk has served me well for more years than I’d care to admit.

Replacing the calculator, of course, is a snap. They are so commonplace these days that they can be found anywhere for a few bucks. The new one cost a dollar. Plus tax.

That’s a far cry from the beastie sitting on the display shelf in the shop. That machine is huge by today’s standards and features an electrical plug identical to that monstrous thing that wound out from the back of that old computer you used to own. Before the tablet. Before the smartphone. They called them “computer towers” back then. I believe they refer to them as “boat anchors” now.

A guest popped in the shop while I was swapping out the devices and I mentioned the fact that I’d just replaced my calculator for a dollar, and pointed to the Beast.

aCalculator1

“Paid over a hundred dollars for that one,” I told him. It shocks me to even say that out loud, even though it is the truth. When they were first offered, the electronic versions of the “adding machine” were expensive. And the Beast is a name-brand: NCR.

I joked that it was so old that I expected the Smithsonian to drop by any day now, to acquire it for their collection of antiquities. On a whim, I checked eBay to see if any were being offered at auction. None. Not one.

So I jumped into Google-mode and typed in some keywords: NCR, calculator, class 18-22. (The class thing was stamped on the serial number plate on the back.) Out of the entire internet-universe of possibilities, the total sum of digitized and archived data and obscure information dating to the dawn of man, there were six results.

Six.

Two came from one website, and two from another. One was errant result.

The top of the list?

The Smithsonian.

The second reference? Calcuseum: a website museum in Belgium dedicated to old technology.

Man.

There came a point that I chose not to use the thing any longer, but I could have. It still works, still adds and subtracts. Multiplies. You can see (in the image) that I use it mostly to display family photos, but I never thought of it as something that should be shuffled off to a museum.

On the bright side – next time I hear talk about the old relic in the bookstore I can imagine they’re talking about the NCR and not me.

Come visit!

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main St. Broken Arrow OK!

No Keebler Elves Here.

You’re sampling a bit of McHuston history every time you bite into a Nabisco cracker.

Baking, it appears, is in the DNA, even if Chef Dustin complains about his results. A young man with shared ancestry named Thomas was driving a bakery truck in Portland, Maine, way back when and put aside a part of his pay each week to save for his dream.

Kept the money in a cracker tin, and when there was enough of it, he bought a modest bakery in Auburn, a small community some thirty miles away. He sent his crackers and biscuits to the Maine boys during the Civil War, and over the next quarter century built up quite a trade. The size of his bakery, the payroll, and number of employees got him a mention in Georgia Merrill’s “History of Androscoggin County” in 1892.

It was about that year that the business burned to the ground.

1aaHustonBakery

Undaunted, Thomas Huston moved back to Portland and started over. His “Down East Bakery” at 314 Forest Avenue did well enough that by 1915 he was able to purchase the property and begin construction of what the newspapers later called “a vast industrial wonderland.” He renamed it the T. A. Huston Company. You can see his completed dream in the image.

Accounts at the time called it “a mammoth, sunlit bakery – one of the largest and most completely equipped baking establishments in the East.”

Huston was a visionary, and used flat-slab, steel-reinforced concrete, poured onsite to provide load-bearing capability solid enough to accommodate the four huge ovens. It was not only beyond sturdy: it was also fireproof. That became important later. Article after article recounted the clean, sanitary, and safe conditions found in Huston’s bakery.

Working with his son William Roy, Thomas continued into his later years and – after entertaining an offer – decided to sell out. In 1931, ownership was transferred to the National Biscuit Company: Nabisco.

The building still stands in Portland, but the ovens have gone cold. Nabisco moved its operations out in 1954. After a couple of later sales, the still-stout structure and property was acquired by the University of Southern Maine in 1991.

University President Patricia Plante recognized that the almost-unnaturally massive nature of the construction made it perfect for a project she was cooking up: she used the Rare Book and Manuscript Library at Yale University as a model, and the funding was raised to make the appropriate changes. The new facility was dedicated in October, 1997 as the Albert Brenner Glickman Family Library.

Books.

1aaHustonBakery2

The building is now on the historic register, and where the Huston ovens once turned out fresh and tasty biscuits and crackers, you’ll find housed a great many book, map, and manuscript collections.

And where books are offered in the Rose District you’ll also find a relic of Thomas A. Huston’s bakery. The wooden biscuit crate dates back to the bakery’s pre-fire days in Auburn and is over a century old – a gift from our resident Huston… Martha.

Thanks, Mom.

Looks great at the front window and reminds me how disparate events and artifacts can be linked through the centuries by the most slender of threads.

We have the books and the lunchtime fare.

Dustin and I are still working on the biscuits.

Come visit!

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main St. Broken Arrow OK!

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