This weekend marked the start of the much-anticipated barbecue season. Even though I eschew meat (and cheese and deviled eggs, for that matter) I thoroughly enjoy the whole backyard barbecue scene, what with its guava drinks and tiki torches and sunburns. Though the barbecue is not an exclusively American activity, the suburban splendor of the American backyard barbecue has a uniquely kitschy and life-affirming quality that has been enjoyed since at least the invention of the suburb.

Sizz lighter fluid tin, currently $9 on ebay

I’m pretty sure the backyard barbecue became so popular in the postwar era because with the general shift from urban areas to single family housing outside of the city centers (thanks to a dramatic increase in housing demand and government subsidies aimed specifically at single family housing, automobiles, and freeways) came the notion that the good life was the private life. Instead of the porch out front and the garage out back, people retreated into their backyards, leaving the carport and front lawn as a barrier to the rest of the world. Perhaps it was the recent trauma of depression and war; actually, the right to privacy was one of the rights/freedoms many felt the war was about, and an escape from crowded urban living signaled the arrival of prosperity. A 1950 House Beautiful article by Joseph Howard entitled “The Good Life is NOT the Public Life” went so far as to say that “if your neighbors can observe what you are serving on your terrace, your home is not really your castle. If you can’t walk out in a negligee, to pick a flower before breakfast without being seen from the street or by the neighbors, you have not fully developed the possibilities of good living.”¹

If this is the case, why go to a public park that provides access to playgrounds, patios, and barbecue grills, when you can keep all that for yourself in your own backyard, and not have to share it with anyone?

I’m sorry, did I say I enjoyed the backyard barbecue? I meant it. I’m being a little snarky here because I fundamentally disagree with many of the values upon which the suburban backyard is built, and I actually lived in a postwar house with a backyard and felt suffocated and anxious. But for some reason I still hold in high esteem the graphic history and the enormously fun present of outdoor entertaining.

Neet-Heet magazine ad, circa 1960, $18 on ebay

Ole Diz charcoal starter tin, $30 on ebay

Set of 35 vintage paper placemats, $10.75 on etsy

Vintage gingham metal bowl, $13 on etsy

Vintage BBQ Time tablecloth, $12.50 on etsy

Vintage barbecue tool set, $30 on etsy

And just to show that not everything barbecue-related was red, behold the simple white divided plate:

Divided barbecue illustrated plate, $10 on etsy

Also, I really hope Joseph Howard picked flowers in his negligee.

¹Treib, Mark. The Architecture of Landscape, 1940-1960. See also Landscape and Race in the United States by Richard H. Schein.

Halloween is such a weird holiday. I mean, a holiday that has evolved from Celts and bonfires and soul cakes into girls wearing unbelievably skanky outfits and kids gorging themselves on refined sugar is hands-down awesome in my book. Since the 1950’s, Halloween has meant a community-wide opening of doors to neighbors otherwise not known – when it’s okay to trust people, and okay to look in other people’s homes. I find this fascinating. It seems like Halloween went through the baby boom period of being kids-only (witness the vintage halloween photos on flickr – before WWII, sexy pin-up costumes. After WWII, lots of pictures of children) and recently is sort of coming back to being adult-friendly.

Since we didn’t plan a party or find one to go to (Wednesday Halloween is the worst), I didn’t put together any sort of costume – I wanted to do a little Kim Novak circa Vertigo in the Redwood forest thing, but I would have just been wearing it around the house. Here are some also good costume ideas.

I’ll be happy to take you to my leader if you give me that coffee table.

I love this one. Click the picture for the full story.

Bobby – excuse, me, Robert – would rather have a cold martini and read the newspaper than dress up for Halloween. Or maybe he’s dressed up like his father.

Happy Halloween!

I admit it; I really can’t stop. It’s like one massive flea market I can visit anytime that has anything I could possibly think of. Ebay tells me about things to collect I never would have thought of. Which brings us to tonight’s word: TV Dinner.

There’s a cute little story that goes ’round about the invention of the TV dinner: The Swanson company found itself overstocked with Thanksgiving turkeys after a season of poor sales, and was spending a fortune galavanting these erstwhile gobblers across the country in refrigerated train cars. Gerry Thomas, evidently the poster boy for 1950’s salesmen, thinks to himself, “Gee, I bet the American housewife would love to be able to serve these turkeys – we just need to package them for her!” Thieving an idea from Maxson Food Systems, Inc., who packaged meals for airlines, Swanson developed the first commercially successful – wildly so – frozen TV dinners.

While this reality is certainly challenged – many allege that the Swanson brothers themselves came up with the idea and somehow Thomas has gotten credit – it’s a fun one, and the facts remain: Americans f*cking love to eat while watching television, and even the most dedicated housewife can’t cook a meal from scratch every night. To wit:

Interestingly, although they didn’t drop the word “TV” from the official title of their dinners until 1962, I can’t seem to find an ad where the actually show a family eating these meals in front of the television. Too graphic, Swanson? You want to think your dinners are good enough to hold the family’s attention, so that they won’t even want to think about watching TV while enjoying them? Anyway, and more to the point, necessity is the mother of invention, and once people started eating dinner in front of the television, they began to need something to put their little aluminium tray upon. The TV tray was born.

TV trays fall under the category of things I don’t have, but might like to someday. Many things in this category get searched out on ebay for potential semi-instant gratification purposes:

So if you, like most Americans, like to eat your dinners while watching television, consider adding a perky little set of TV trays to your vintage collection. Swell!

Hidy ho, neighbors! We’ve moved quite a bit of stuff into our new little bungalow, and there is a lot left over at the old house. Therefore, we’re having a yard sale. On Bastille day. Coincidence.

Up for sale, among other things, is a vintage Formica-top teacher’s desk. I love this desk. I don’t want to sell it, but we have no room. If you know anyone who could use a cool vintage desk, let me know! Or, if you have anything that needs to be yard sold, bring it on over! We should be just exhausted enough to come to KT’s 21st birthday bash in the evening.

Well folks, Friday is my birthday and to celebrate the occasion, I’m throwing a small fête à la fifties backyard barbecue. In case you were on the fence about coming, here are a few things – related or unrelated to my actual party – that should convince you to come, or get you into the spirit of this ridiculous decade.

Using chicken livers as an entertaining staple was common in the 1950’s and 1960’s. Often wrapped in bacon, they would also frequently be paired with water chestnuts and given a fancy name (Rumaki), proving that pretty much anything tastes good when wrapped in bacon.

This said, let me assure you that I will not be serving bacon-wrapped chicken livers at my party. Or will I? You decide! Take the Chicken Liver Challenge and vote to your left: should I serve a traditional chicken liver Rumaki at my party, or is that a little too vintage? It’s up to you! But keep in mind – if you vote for it, you have to eat it.