Rare, Collectible, & Otherwise

Tag: McHuston (Page 72 of 111)

Mr. Postman, look and see…

Here you are at the post office, holding a letter to your relative in Cleveland. Times are tough. Crazy tough. So tough that you’ve got to write and let them know what is going on. Crazy stuff. You just need some stamps.

The clerk weighs the envelope and looks in your direction. Intense eyes. No smile.

How much, you ask.

Four.

Four dollars, you respond, while reaching for your cash.

Suddenly, the clerk laughs.

Four dollars! He repeats. What a joker! He turns to his coworker. Frank! We got a comedian here! Wants to know if four is four dollars! What a hoot! Four Dollars? Hoooo-weee!

Well, then – you ask. If not four dollars, then four what?

The clerk leans into your face and replies – without a trace of humor:

Four Billion Dollars.

Oh. Now there is a number.

How many stamps is that, you want to know.

Depends, he says. I’ve got some 200s but not enough. You’ll have to double up on the 100s. Too bad you don’t have a larger envelope, he decides.

So you buy the stamps and start licking. It’s 1923, and there aren’t any self-adhesive postage stamps. You’ll have to apply the tongue to each of the 25 stamps. You decide it was a good thing he had the 200-million stamps or you’d have had to cover up your return address on the back, where half of those postage stamps have been applied.

The War to End all Wars is over, and it’s another decade before the unrest bubbles up enough to plant the seeds of World War II. For the citizens of defeated Germany, times are tough. Today, they call it hyperinflation. Back then, there were a number of words that described the economy and the buying power of Germany cash.

None of them are printable here. Even in German. (A very linguistically literate audience haunts this blog…)

To send word across the Atlantic to the relatives in Amerika requires International Postage. The 25 stamps in 200 and 100 Million Mark (German dollar) increments amount to 4,000 million, or what we would call – with all those zeroes – four Billion.
Four Billion Dollars to send a letter.

You just wonder whether what was in the letter was worth it. The German word was millionen. Million. You can click on the image to see a view of the high-dollar stamps (actually high-Mark, their currency) that were required to simply mail a letter. If you click, you’ll also notice that – even without zipcodes or barcodes – the letter found its destination simply addressed to “Cleveland Amerika.” 1923 efficiency.

Here is the often repeated anecdote about post WWI Germany in the hyper-inflation years, of which 1923 – the year the letter in the images was written – might have been the absolute worst.

Workers who wanted to make the most of their money, demanded to be paid every few hours, so the cash could be spent before it became worthless. One employee loaded up all of his cash pay into a wheelbarrow and rushed off to the store to buy bread for his family.

He parked the wheelbarrow beside the front door and dashed inside to see if any loaves were left. When he came back out moments later, he looked at the spot where he had left the wheelbarrow. His heart sank.

The results of all his hard work were wasted, so much more than the just the morning’s pay was gone.

The thief had dumped all the money on the ground and made off with his wheelbarrow.

Another illustration of the times involved another wheelbarrow. This pile of money was being wheeled to the shoe store one Friday morning to buy a new pair of boots. If he had wheeled that same pile of money to the same store on Monday, he could have bought the entire STORE.

Always surprising, the things that show up in a book shop. Would have loved to have read the letter that it took 4-Billion Marks to mail. My guess is, by the time this piece of postage hit the mailbox, the German monetary system was just about to hit its reset button.

And the currency of record became bananas. (Kidding.)

As we all know, the new legal tender became Reuben sandwiches.

Come get one! (…without the sauerkraut. Hey, it’s Irish without inflation!)

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main Street, Broken Arrow OK!

Leanin’ on a lamppost. (Irish Olympic event.)

It’s a little bit like a flashlight with no batteries. You can bonk someone on the head with it, but only in the bright of day. Actually, it is nothing like that at all. The drift is, the bulb is missing, but the lamppost has been restored to its valued place on the sidewalk.

Hoo-haw!

My neighbor JoAnne (Hollow Tree Gifts) dropped in this morning, happy and sad at the same time. The good-news bad-news concerned the sidewalk in front of her shop. There wasn’t one. That was then.

I moseyed (have you moseyed lately?) down to her end of the block this afternoon and the workers are smoothing the last of the cement. She should be able to open her front door to customers in the morning.

In the sidewalk planter in front of the book shop are two gentlemen who are installing the landscaping irrigation and drainage. That’s a good thing. I was worried at the beginning when mention was made of the merchants taking care of the plants in front of their own stores. No objections from me regarding the work involved – it’s only my memory and the responsibility of keeping thirsty plants alive.

I’d hate to be the one who killed off the roses in the Rose District.

You can see in the image my headless-lamppost and in the other a view from the front-door looking north. For now, you’ll have to imagine the green foliage and rosebushes.

The block from Commercial to Dallas is getting back to normal, at least during the daytime. The tall lamps have banished the darkness, but it will be a much brighter nighttime on Main when all of the lamps are lit.

Timetables are approximate, but there are hopes that everything will be ready to go by the time the Main Street Merchants’ annual Tee-off comes around, mid-month. That’s the Holiday Shopping Season jump-start for the downtown businesses in which many of the stores hold open-house type events, and in previous years the event has featured horse-drawn carriage rides, live music, and traveling minstrel shows. (Okay. I made that last part up.)

A couple of ladies dropped in during the lunch hour just to see what “all the Rose District talk is about.” I’m glad to know there is talk going on and that it is piquing the curiosity of area shoppers. I hope they’ll come back with things are a little more tidy and the orange barrels have moved to some other B.A. location.

There is still plenty of work going on inside the shop, as well. Just shelved a nearly-complete Hardy Boys collection, nicely kept hardback volumes.

Traipsing down to the library (have you traipsed lately?) as a vacation-reading maniac one summer, I had as a goal to read every one of the mysteries. The librarian had a sheet of paper imprinted with an image of a suitcase, and with each completed book she applied a colorful “travel” sticker to the page. We naive young bookworms were traveling around the world through the printed page. My suitcase runneth over with stickers and – all the while – I was saved the worry of nasty tropical mosquito-borne diseases and Montezuma’s Revenge.

Golly-gee, it was a simpler time back then, wasn’t it? But, dad-gummit, I fell for it and wound up reading a stack of books that summer. In retrospect, I should have been practicing my little-league baseball skills. (Then again, I probably had better later-life prospects as a librarian than a second-baseman.)

The roast beef is on the stove and aroma drifting ‘round the shop is reminding me of Grandma Mamie’s Sunday table and Grandma Sylvia’s Thanksgiving spread. Irish stew weather is fast approaching. The kitchen is calling and my oven mitts are at the ready.

Come visit!

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main Street, Broken Arrow OK!

Let there be Lights!

Noticed that the generated-powered emergency lights were cold and lonely this evening and I was all primed for a good rant: Why can’t they remember? What’s the point of setting them out there if they aren’t lit up?

Then, I noticed it wasn’t dark out outside. (I mean – of course it is DARK – it’s nighttime… But it isn’t pitch-black-can’t-see-your-hand-in-front-of-your-face.) I moved closer to the windows and looked down the block.

Bam!

Lights on, downtown Broken Arrow.

Those great looking new street lamps that are lining the Rose District have been magically electrified, shining down in a golden glow over the new sidewalks and brick landscaping planters. Lookin’ good.

Of course, it isn’t a completed deal. The lamp post in front of the shop is still missing-in-action, as are those all along this side of Main. They are still pouring concrete (technically they are not at this moment, but the job is incomplete) and laying bricks between Commercial and Broadway will continue over the next few days. But – I’m thinking that store-front parking might be restored to the shop as early as next week.

Bam! Zowie!

Those of us with shops along the block here have been wandering with regularity, surveying the changes, crossing our fingers, marveling at the progress, and hoping that the weather, the stars, and the workers are all in alignment to avoid any delays. I can’t complain, truly.

I realized that there was no way a sidewalk could be replaced directly in front of the doorway without causing a little disruption to the business day. That day was Monday. There was a little carry-over Tuesday morning as the framework was put in place for the next section of sidewalk.

It was ready for walking by afternoon.

Today – Friday – I got to remember what a busier lunch hour was like. Still slower than the Springtime, but I was scooting back and forth from the kitchen to the tables on feet that wished they had fewer miles on them. (They were Happy Feet, though…)

Sold out of Irish Stew. Sold out of corned beef (although it lasted through the final order, unlike the stew, which was one bowl short). In all likelihood I would have run out of potato soup as well, but I had a second soup on the line for the first time in six months. (Maybe it was a premonition. Decided to offer a Spicy Chicken Tortilla soup in addition to the potato soup today – for some reason. Worked out well.)

At any rate, you can click on the images for a bigger version of First Light Night – the debut of the newly installed Rose District street lamps. Granted, it is still a little dim out there, with just half the street up and running. Tonight, the lamps on the shorter poles are still off, and the traffic signals have not yet been installed.

All things in due time.

I’m happy to see that electric glow (including the jazzy new sign on Bruhouse Grill’s storefront WHOA just clicked on their Facebook page…). As I was saying – the lamplight and the presence of nighttime shadows in the Rose District! Good stuff.

Come visit!

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main Street, Broken Arrow OK!

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