In the Early Morning Rain

Weather is raging outside in the dark but things go on as usual inside.

Betty and Margaret consult the Springfield phone book.

Betty and Margaret consult the Springfield phone book.

I can no longer look with innocent eyes upon the early morning reruns of Father Knows Best. I used to smile and shake my head about how different things were then and how much gender ruled expectation and action but I recently read that the adult Billy Gray had grave doubts about that representation:

 “The dialogue, the situations, the characters ­ they were all totally false. The show did everyone a disservice. The girls were always trained to use their feminine wiles, to pretend to be helpless to attract men. The show contributed to a lot of the problems between men and women that we see today.” He added, “I think we were all well motivated, but what we did was run a hoax. ‘Father Knows Best’ purported to be a reasonable facsimile of life. And the bad thing is, the model is so deceitful…”

Also, I haven’t even fully disgested this: Earlier this week, there was a broadcast of the episode where Fronk the gardener is selected to make a presentation to the Governor . The panel of white males on the city council and their unabashed commentary -complete with canned laughter in the background- about how Fronk is unsuitable is eye-popping enough judged by today’s standards, but what is worse is the eye rolling and condescending chuckling of the well-meaning Andersons as they coach Fronk on his manners and appearance  and help him rehearse his speech. The biggest travail for Father  is that Fronk insists on using the honorific Señor Guv.

Unexpected message inside an egg carton.

Unexpected message inside an egg carton.

I feel sorry for the atheists, agnostics and other Godless types who might be assaulted by their own egg cartons. Fronk would hold his greasy hat over his heart and make them feel ashamed with some sincere but heavily accented words, but of course Fronk is dead now and so is that sentiment.

Nothing to say here but yum.

Nothing to say here but yum.

First of the season. Clementine Cake, a recipe that “won’t topple you over into nervous collapse”. Of course, you do have to know what a pip is.

I am not willing to go this far.

I am not willing to go this far.

In light of all the aggravation and heartbreak associated with my search for a period-correct lamp shade, I have taken to studying old movies for inspiration. Modern lampshades, covered with birds, French-esque squiggles and postal cancellation  stamps, are meant for hipsters and are not suitable for my vintage lamp. I’m thinking that the hipster equivalent of the 40s were involved in the creation of that confection shown above. And yet, it is fairly representational of the period style. At least, the style on the movie sets.

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