Julian: Marvelous Cat Impersonator

Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: One of the occupational hazards of being Pam of Pictorama fame is that researching a post occasionally leads you directly to purchasing something else and today’s card came into my possession while researching last week’s cat impersonators.

Like those two cards acquired from a single seller (those posts can be read here and here) today’s impersonator also hails from Great Britain. I don’t know if it is that animal impersonation as entertainment was better or more robust in England, but it did at a minimum produce more visual evidence which is jolly detritus for us to pick through a hundred or more years later.

Another fluffy version of kitty from a post last week. Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

Sadly there are no easily found tracks about Julian and his cat act. As Kim pointed out and I must agree, there is something still very much of him even when he dons his cat costume. I find that he includes a photo of himself sort of interesting and he’s a rather intense looking young man here. Under his picture it says, Marvelous Cat Impersonator and Anatomical Puzzle. I really do wonder about the anatomical puzzle part – what could that mean? Was he able to execute uniquely cat like motions and poses? Amazing dislocation of joints? Did he perhaps sport a tail? (Now that would be something!)

Julian is a very long haired cat (impersonators seem to lean to the Persian type), and he sports a big bow. As I noted above, while his mask certainly covers his entire face there remains something of his affect even with it on. His cat eyes are set a bit close and I can’t say there is anything endearing about his cat. No wish to cuddle this puss – or even meet him really. Still, it might have been a very good show.

The back of the card reveals that this was actually a Christmas greeting and (in red) reads as follows: Christmas and New Year 1913-14/Wishing You The Compliments of the Season. from “Julian” Panto, 1913-14. The Grand Theater, Byker, Newcastle-onTyne. The card was never used and there is nothing written on it.

There is nary a snippet to be located about Julian and his cat act – not even the sort of listing in an old theatrical newspaper like sometimes turns up in my research. He has left no tracks. However, the Grand Theater has a traceable history. It was built in 1896 and closed its doors in 1954. The building remained standing if derelict until a fire in April of 1964 when it was then demolished. (I would share a photo of it, but none of the sites wish to let me today.)

In 1913 it seems it got its film license was just starting to commit to showing films in advance of the live shows, as many theaters were. 1913 and ’14 would have been rollicking years with numerous large theaters in this downtown area of Byker, an eastern district of Newcastle-on-Tyne. The Grand originally seated over 2,200 people, a number of seats which was reduced by more than 400 when the equipment for showing film was installed.

Birthday

Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: Today is a somewhat rare occasion, a family photo post. I have done them before when I discovered some very early family photos (a few posts of those can be found here and here), but I am not sure I have done many from my own childhood – except maybe in passing to document a toy or a beloved cat.

Today is a photo my mom sent to me, matted and framed, as a surprise several years ago. A cousin had given her two photos of me and my sister as small children. She kept one, which hangs in the kitchen in New Jersey, and sent me the other. This one lives on a shelf in direct eye shot of my “home office” desk. I am looking down and on the left. So like us that Loren is running toward the camera and I am turned aside, a bit diffident.

Undated photo of Loren with our cat Winkie.

I don’t remember these matching outfits at all. We were rarely dressed alike, although photos seemed to be taken when we were giving the impression after the fact that it happened often. Probably the outfits were gifts and the pictures documenting our wearing them. These are the sort of typical dresses of the late 1960’s to be expected on little girls. Most of our time was spent in indestructible things like Danskin shorts or jeans. (I had a flowered pair of jeans in red and blue I was especially fond of a few years later. Very 1970’s fashion forward. They live on in my memory.)

We are in a yard I cannot identify – probably a long forgotten, not especially distinct yard where the cousin in question was living. There’s not much to it. Just the sort of suburban yard of my youth where we’d just run around with chasing each other and some imagined foe or friend until exhausted.

Loren with I believe Mitsy, a lovely little tuxedo.

I have also rarely written about my sister, Loren, before. I did a tribute to her rugby trophies a while ago (that post can be read here) but I have not written too much about her. Loren Butler (married name Feffer) was born on March 15, 1962 – two years my senior and a fact that I was unlikely to forget. Loren was definitely an older sister. She died after a long fight with breast cancer on January 20, 2003, just shy of her 41st birthday.

She was quite brilliant (a PhD in mathematics), did not suffer fools gladly, and was very athletic most of her life – she had a constant need to burn off her restless energy. Loren was also very opinionated (about all things), extremely generous and extraordinarily loyal. As my sister and fairly close in age, Loren and I had that weird symbiotic relationship that siblings have. Hatched over time in the same protective family bubble of early childhood, we shared experiences and a history that only we experienced together. (My brother Edward entered the story a bit later and adds another chapter to the Butler clan story.)

Loren probably about 1990 judging from the car she is driving. This photo also lives near my desk at home but was actually framed to take it to the office which somehow has not happened.

As we know, death means spending the rest of your life limited to a now one-sided dialog with that person. In this case many of my earliest memories were shared only with her – conversations in bed at night when we shared a room as small children, games and of course epic battles with each other. Her opinions (memories of real ones and now imagined based on her track record) play in my brain. These range from world politics to my most recent hair cut.

Someone contacted her widower about publishing some of her work recently while a recent wedding celebration of a mutual friend was a chance to hear a few stories I had not heard before which is always a good day.

It has been 23 years since I have been able to wish her a happy birthday in person. (For her 40th birthday I gave her gold hoop earrings, still hopeful that there was a future and that she would wear them for years to come. I have those now with most of her other jewelry.) However, she still lives large in my mind and a day doesn’t go by without thinking about her, so here’s to Loren on what would have been her 63 birthday.

Let the Cat Impersonators Cont. Part 2

Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: Day two of cat impersonator photo postcards! Unfortunately as over exposed as the last one was, this one is equal parts too dark. Both yesterday and today’s cards hail from a dealer in England and were purchased at the same time but separately.

Today we have a rather doggy cat in a more elaborate costume – I could go either way on this. One can imagine that this one might have had devices to make a tail twitch or a jaw open and close. He is more furry than yesterday’s model and if I had to guess I might say that yesterday’s was earlier and more primitive but of course it could have just been a cheaper production. The face seems to be a two part affairs with the snout separate.

Like yesterday’s card this one was never sent and has a layer of dirt helping to attest to age which is unknown. I am not quite sure I can guess why kitty is backed into a corner behind a chair for this photo – we will assume that it was part of the plot perhaps?

While yesterday’s card screamed vaudeville act this one might make us think about film as well. I am reminded of my photo still of Nana from Peter Pan, one of my favorite examples of an animal impersonator although a dog of course. (That post can be found here.) Still, practically speaking, likely this was some sort of a stage act as well.

Nana from Peter Pan. Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

The range of design and assembly in these costumes fascinates me. This one, to the extent we can see it, appears to be professionally (very skillfully) made. Still, there’s often some thing a bit indeterminant about the precise species of animal in question on these images. Feline dogs, canine cats and a range of sort of bear like critters. Of course we don’t see them fully inhabited and in motion – their animation may have further described and defined them.

I believe I have commented before on the sheer annoyance of my cats when I plop a pair of cat ears on my head for Halloween. They all but shake their heads in disappointment and distress – like the kitty equivalent of a racist joke. One can only imagine their response to a furry full body costume! (As for fur, on the one occasion I remember an elderly friend wearing a mink in my apartment – my then cat Miss Otto Dix – a feral female feline – went nuts at the sight of it. She and the coat had to be separated by a closed bedroom door.)

*****

As I write this it is Saturday evening and I am in New Jersey with the five Butler cats. They are pleased with the attention of my being here and they have piled all their toys in the living room for a kitty party. These guys are gearing up for an all-night romp which I will be privy to through my bedroom door.

IV Miles to London: Cat Impersonator Part One

Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: It’s a one two photo post punch today and tomorrow with two cards I acquired from Great Britain recently. Animal impersonators, fancy for folks dressed up to perform in animal costumes, are a Pictorama passion and are hard to pass up. (An impressive previous specimen post can be found here and a slightly more oddball one here.)

Today’s kit appears to portray Dick Whittington’s cat – an old wheeze based on the historic Richard Whittington who lore has it owned a very talented and scheming puss who helped him achieve significantly in life. The kit and the story are evidently apocryphal, as talking and elaborately world dominating cats tend to be.

To be honest, the purchase of these two cards was pretty marginal purchases based on their evident lousy quality (which was even worse in their listing), but in the end their rarified-ness won me. They are a bit better in person. However, this one in particular suffers from being some sort of wretched form of duped reproduction, but it would appear one at least roughly from the period. The card shows signs of real age.

This photo postcard was never mailed and there is nothing written on it. This is a pretty basic (if effective) cat costume. He represents a nice tabby, black and white stripes on his arm-legs. His mask looks sturdy to the point of discomfort and his chin sports some stripes below as well. Bristling whiskers jut out and one ear stands at attention while the other is folded over. The top of his costume ends in a sort of neckerchief as a transition (to hide his human neck) and I am sorry we don’t really see his tail. A good tail is everything in a cat costume.

There’s something a little scary about this kitty effigy – not sure how I would feel about taking advice from him. He perches on a mileage sign for IV Miles to London.

The woman leans on his shoulder. She looks like an acrobat or circus performer, curly hair with a large bow atop, slippered feet. Almost entirely faded from sight is a short pearl necklace, one earring exposed. She does not appear to be Mr. Whittington so not sure what role she played in the drama.

Hard to say how much we might have enjoyed this play as it unfolded. Based on this photo my guess is I would have at least wanted to give it a shot though.

This post a bit short and sweet today as I head to New Jersey early for the funeral for the mother of my friend, Winsome. As I get ready to post this (a largely pre-written post!) I will hop on a train shortly. Another interesting if poorly developed photo postcard – another on its way to me. It’s all about animal impersonators for now!

Spike

Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: This card wandered into the house last night, in a pile of interesting mail, especially robust as we hadn’t picked up our mail in a few days – more on that in a bit. It was nestled against a wonderfully long, newsy letter from our friends Pete (Poplaski) and Rika in France. Kim read the letter aloud to me while killing time before picking up take out. A delightful distraction, but resulting in my just having a good look at the card now.

I have a weakness for photos of men with cats (see early posts here and here) and a dog seems like a bonus round. Since Spike is the only name in evidence I will speculate that it belongs to the dog or the man? Neither disinterested kit looks like a Spike. This is a photo postcard and nothing is written on the back. The card was never mailed.

From a very early Pictorama post, Men and Cats. Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

If we look closely this chap is posing on the flat roof of a house, the eve of the house next door confirming this speculation. (The house in Jersey has such a flat roof out the bathroom window, but no plans for us to climb out onto it in the foreseeable future. Given the roof issues I’ve had with that part of the house I would say likely never.) This is evidently an old house with tatty, long and worn wooden shudders that look like they have done real window protecting work, hence their dilapidation. A bit of a decorative railing appears to one side of that and I wonder if the actual balcony was in theory limited to that area.

Our human is sporting a suit and tie, hat perched atop his head, and a big grin. He is sitting on a chair of which there is very little evidence – I thought at first he was squatting in order to get everyone into the frame at first. The cats, a lovely little tuxie and a somewhat spotty white one, are obediently perched on each leg.

Bonus video of Blackie considering a water “fountain” a friend sent him as he demands bathroom sink water constantly. While entertained by it not sure he actually “gets” it yet.

The dog, who wears a hefty collar, is at his feet and has a somewhat concerned look if we peer closely. The trees behind him and into the distance have leaves but seem vaguely half-hearted, perhaps it is fall and their denuding has begun. A very careful look at the horizon reveals a few other rooftops and more beyond, but that and the sky are completely burned out.

Evidence of our battle with the Afrin bottle. Bloody but now bowed.

Zipping back to life here in New York City. Those of you who follow me on Instagram may have already seen allusions to Covid having come to visit Deitch Studio. Shown above is the evidence of Kim and I going to war with a bottle of Afrin whose childproof cap proved to be largely human proof. We ultimately scored a victory over it, but it cost Kim a bad cut on his drawing thumb and a less significant one on my wrist. (My thanks to him for his sacrifice to help clear my head!)

Kim, who was felled first, seems to have reached the shores on the other side of well while I am getting there, slowly. Cats are very spoiled, with a lot of me petting and treat time – all discipline with them out the window in my malaise. All this to say, there are some great toys waiting to make their debut, a belated birthday to ultimately celebrate. Hopefully I can tackle some of these with renewed tomorrow.

Pathways

Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: Pausing some wonderful birthday related acquisitions to show you this pair of cards I bought recently on Instagram from one of my favorite sellers @baileighfaucz.h. (She has a great eye and routinely offers wonderful pics – if money was no issue I’d be buying constantly.) This is a bit of an odd, one off post so apologies for taking this tributary today, away from my more traditional toy and feline exploits.

It isn’t unheard of, but a bit unusual for me as photo purchases go these days, although I always say it is about following your nose. Clearly no cats here, but these immediately caught my eye. They were not technically sold together but clearly, as is sometimes the case, just belong together.

Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

If anything, these look a bit like photos I might have taken as I was deeply interested in landscape photos for a long time, generally taken with a variety of early cameras and processes. I would like to go back to it some day and now that I have the space in New Jersey I may convert a bathroom into a darkroom. Renting adequate space here in the greater Manhattan area just became too dear.

Timeless landscapes like these have a very calming effect on me – as did the hiking and outdoor time that it took to take them. I like my landscapes with no sign of modern life or human intervention – completely timeless. There is an odd calming response when I look at them.

Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

It doesn’t take me to say that the photographer had a great eye. The one with the few puffy clouds and no fence is the one I spotted first. It is the more bleak of the two – there’s something about the other one which is more optimistic, hopeful. It is a better tended bit of land and the hand of humans is more evident. In that one there’s something about where the fence and path converge, with the trees visually just touching. I like the way the fence posts fade out into the distance too. It takes you with it.

However, the wilder one if you will, of the two is where the imagination roams a bit. A bit bleak yes, but also promising possibility and the potential for wonder around that bend. Together they make such a visually pleasing combination – I probably can’t really recreate it here but have tried my best.

I am somewhat curious that these are photo postcards. They are beautiful photos, but somehow don’t seem to fit that bill. (It seems unfortunate to think of them marred in the mail and not surprisingly, they were not ever mailed. They are fairly pristine if a tad darkened with age.

Although there is not much room on the walls here in at Deitch Studio I would like to frame them, together and put them at eye level somewhere so I can gaze at them once in awhile and take myself to wherever and whatever time that was.

Concern for cats…

Pam’s Pictorama Post: I used to say that I would like to retire to a cat farm in Connecticut. Now, far from retired, those of you who follow my story know that it does appear that I roughly run one in New Jersey in addition of course to the feline folks here in New York. Additionally, my work life is now very animal centric and I can say I find myself in a place where I can have some very catty days indeed. Today I am dedicating a bit of space to my feline friends understanding it may not be the cat’s meow for all readers.

Peaches sees a bird out the window. She is ever watchful of the outside perimeter.

Just last Friday at work I found myself having a delightful hour crawling around on the floor of our member’s lounge with two new visitors, such good kitties they were out of their carriers and investigating the premises. Their mom adopts special needs cats only and is able to devote time and resources to their care. They are remarkably well adjusted cats and sat on my lap for pets and purrs.

In general, unlike dogs (some actually seem to enjoy a visit to our premises – others less so) cats are rarely up for an actual visit when they are at the vet. This is certainly true of mine. If left with me in an exam room Blackie will immediately start to examine all possible exits for a getaway, first checking the perimeter of the room and gesturing to the doors – come on mom, we can make a break for it. I had another cat, Otto, an excellent jumper, who would look upward and the next thing I knew she went from my shoulder to atop high cabinets and had to be fetched by office staff. It is more than fair to say I meet many more cats these days, albeit those under the duress of being at the vet.

Beauregard who has recently discovered the pleasures of Zoom and sitting on my desk in NJ.

My work integrates daily thinking about cat projects as well – fund a cat recovery area in surgery or ICU anyone? Pay for some research? The largest number of patients are dogs, and frankly we care for many exotics (it seems to me I have seen a lot of guinea pigs coming and going lately and even heard tell of a goldfish). One day in the hall one of our staff rushed past me with a teeny, tiny turtle in a plastic tub. However, cats are far from uncommon.

Cats (dogs – and other animals) which need to be rehomed are sometime detailed and emailed to staff as it is, obviously, a huge network of animal people. This in addition to a daily dose of cat tales and woes on posts via the internet where adoption and loss seem to vie for attention. Lovely adult and senior cats who have lost their home due to circumstances changing – illness, death or indifference.

Sunny front door action at the NJ house. A prime morning spot.

As much as the New Jersey cats are tended and adored in my absence I worry about them. Although it has worked out better than I thought it would and it was definitely how my mom wanted it. I continue to consider it a work in progress.

Here in New York, Blackie continues to confound us with a newfound desire to drink water from the sink. I have had other cats develop this desire, but Blackie is single minded in his demands. Yes, he has had all sorts of tests run about it and even taking his diabetes into account it is unclear where the increased water intake has come from. In part, one cannot separate out the entertainment factor of making your human perform simple tricks such as turning the faucet on for you when you caterwaul. Still, there is definitely a corresponding urge and he also drinks considerable water from his shared bowl with Cookie.

Gus on the bed in NJ. He is one cat I think misses getting singular attention.

Blackie’s sister Cookie has become a more affectionate cat as she gets older. She is demanding in her own way (in fact we sometimes call her Demanda) but usually for pets, preferring morning and evening specially for those. Cookie is unusual in that she is the only cat I have ever known who truly likes having her tummy rubbed – like a dog. She will roll and stretch and request our attention for this. She and Blackie will share the bed during the day, but once I get into it at night she eschews it. Blackie has the job of waking us in the morning and only if we refuse to stir by about 6:15 will Cookie take matters in hand and race across the bed a few times to see if she can eject us manually.

Tummy rubbing time.

So this morning I find myself wishing I could give them all a home, but a bit overwhelmed by my own inherited menagerie at times. Wouldn’t trade my daily dose of cats however, although I am learning to appreciate dogs too – more to come?

Clowning Around

Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: I purchased these photos on Instagram quite a long time ago. One night after dinner they showed up by a seller I follow but rarely buy from – a guy who had a store here in Manhattan on the Lower Eastside and then packed up and relocated, I think, to Florida. (A couple of posts of the joys of his store can be found here and here.)

These sat unopened for a long time and then they went to New Jersey. I photographed them for this purpose while I was there. They are not yet hanging and I am not sure of a spot for them, clearly the need to remain together.

I was shocked to discover that the frames are plastic and incredibly light. I had assumed they were painted wood, all the better for hanging but potentially a bit fragile.

I peg this one for the older kid. Pams-Pictorama.com collection.

Sometimes I wonder how or why a particular photo makes it through time and being sold while others clearly whittle away. It is easy to see why these hung together somewhere and the appeal of these kids and these clown costumes is self-evident.

These were either commercially purchased costumes or made by a fine seamstress. The one with the stars is showier and catches your eye better, but really they are equal in their greatness. The hats are especially nice and seem to be made as part of the costume, the tie on ruffs around the neck. The button closures seem to be some sort of passementerie or Soutache. The sleeves on the one hang a bit long.

Giving you a better look at this one too – Pams-Pictorama.com collection.

Each photo is taken in the same spot in front of this older garden apartment which could have been anywhere – I haven’t a clue where these came from originally. The walkway does a nice job of zipping up the composition and taking our eye right to the back. Each figure is placed visually between the lanterns at the front entrance.

I have gone back and forth on this, but my current thinking is that both are girls. The one in the star decorated costume definitely is, and I would say she is the younger. She is sort of bubbling over with enthusiasm. The other is a bit more studied, arms folded, but a big grin nonetheless. Both are very charming.

While I assume these are for Halloween, but it could have been another costume or fancy dress opportunity. Lucky kids – if the costumes were any indication a good time was had by all!

Milton the Cat

Pam’s Pictorama Post: Kim had the excellent suggestion this morning that I might consider each of the cats individually for a post, starting with some of the New Jersey guys (and gals). Peaches was featured in a post (which can be read here) not that long ago so this would be the second of the lucky kits seven to be in the spotlight. (My father’s wonderful cat Red who died not that long after him was featured in a post here.)

Beau, Gus and Milty waiting for breakfast one morning.

Milty, as he is generally known, is the most senior, if somewhat titular, head of the New Jersey manor. He is, by our best guestimate, about 21 years old. I’m afraid I don’t have any photos of a young Milty. As you can see, he’s an almost tabby, white with copious tabby spots, a sort of every cat.

Milty achieving pets on the arm of the chair.

He came to my mom as a tiny kitten rescued in Newark with a terrible long cut down his back. Because of that, I guess, he came to mom with the moniker of Knifey which she thought was an awful name and hardly described this genial little ball of fluff. He was found and rescued him on Milton Street (Newark Harrison Plaza to be precise it would appear) in Newark and Mom went with Milton as his name, Milty most of the time. Meanwhile, his back injury was so severe that he had to be isolated away from her other cats for a few months while it healed.

My parents were still in the (very large) house I grew up in and Milty had a room upstairs where he spent his first few months. That was a rough and tumble house of more or less five cats at the time, but eventually Milty found, and probably occasionally fought, his way into the milieu.

It was, I believe, not long after my sister Loren died that Milty came to Shrewsbury Drive. It also became a tumultuous time with my folks packing up that house ultimately and leap frogging to a rental before moving into the house I have now. So while a new kitty is always a thing of joy I think things like hurricane Sandy followed by my parents packing up and moving overshadowed his arrival somewhat. He slipped quietly and seamlessly into the life of the Butler household.

Winsome putting her hat on him on a whim last year.

Milty was always a pretty easy going guy. Slowly he moved up the ranks of mom’s cats over time and there was a moment where it was just him and two others before mom went on a cat acquisition streak not much more than two years before she died, bringing their number to five.

Of all of the cats, Milty is the friendliest and in fact actually demands to be petted by all comers to the house – sitting by you and reaching out with a tapping paw gently. He has a good memory for the regular visitors who pay attention to him and runs right to them. He does not discriminate by age – he is perfectly willing to let Anaya, Winsome’s granddaughter age 3, have her first, tentative cat pats with him. His fur is amazingly soft and he has gotten fluffier, not less so, with age.

Milty in the livingroom.

He is a bit of a grump and tyrant these days when it comes to food. If given his way a stream of cans would be opened for him ongoing throughout the day. He has the annoying (for the other cats) habit of eating the first wet bits out of every dish as they are put out – taking the best moist bits off the top. He drinks copious (truly vast) amounts of water daily and is said (by mom) to have tumors in his stomach. In the mornings that I am there he meows loudly and urgently for his breakfast until it is served, he and
Beau eat first there.

Milty is demanding for attention as well and sits on the arm of your chair and gently grabs your arm, just a few gentle claw paws, for pets. Unfortunately, he is not a well behaved lap cat and the claws are in play for starfish paws and he tends to get moved along. He is the top ranked puker in the house and has other occasional accidents, not surprising I guess given his age and other factors.

Peaches smiling and giving Milty a pat.

He enjoys a surprisingly good relationship with essentially all of the other cats. (He has no use for the New York cats when they visit but that seems fair. He mixed it up with Blackie on our last visit, marching into the bedroom one morning to see where breakfast was. He also swatted a friend’s dog who wandered into the house with him one evening.) I tend to find an odd combination of cats curled up with Milty. The most surprising is Peaches, our most feral and generally resistant feline. I frequently find her curled up with him while giving me a somewhat defensive look. Gus also likes to sit with (or sometimes on) Milts and Milty never appears bothered. He is the Switzerland of cats.

Gus horning in Milty’s perch.

High jumping was never his thing – the awful long cut on his back perhaps – and he generally stays near to the ground now and rarely gets up higher than a low chair. Aside from that he is surprisingly spry and greets all visitors like the retired mayor of a small town who sits out in a sunny rocking chair on the front porch of the general store or post office. He expects a certain amount of recognition and fealty.

In some ways I feel bad for Milty as he never quite got to be a singular favorite with a devoted individual tending him. He has been loved but a bit generally by many. We’ve had a few scares with his health and know that at 21 for a cat his time is likely melting away. However, he seems utterly content as the figurative king kitty in the house of Butler.

Trucking

Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: This photo came to me via the antiques mall in New Jersey, purchased shortly before Christmas this year, among my minor holiday decoration purchases. It is a bit faded and the mat it is attached to is a bit stained and tatty. It caught my eye however and overall it is sort of wonderful.

I brought the photo back to New York where I have been looking at it under a loupe and I have managed to read the very faded and overexposed writing on the side of the truck. I have deduced that this truck was decorated for a company picnic and outing. After cleaning I can just about read the writing on the side of the truck despite it being very over-exposed and faded, Annual Outing and Picnic for Employees Pulaski Trucking Corporation. Sadly, if there was a date I can no longer decode it. (These days I can find a Pulaski Heavy Hauling company in New York – hard to know if this is this company is the ancestor or not.)

This fits neatly into my collection of yard long photos of outings and employee picnics which decorate the walls of the house in New Jersey. (Posts about those can be found here and here.) I will most likely bring it back there to live, although if I could find a spot for it here in New York I would enjoy that too. There is something endlessly appealing about people in their best bib and tucker posing on a special outing. It is in some ways the essence and premise of much of my collection.

These yard long photos are hard to film (but worth it) so you’ll have to go to the post above to really see it!

It is a deeply male enterprise and picnic or not, these fellows mostly dressed for the occasion. (I’ll assume the wives and girlfriends and children are nearby but elsewhere.) Understanding that it is a picnic it is surprising that so many are in suits or wearing ties. Some wear hats and others took their off for the photo. There are two men in dark suits on the end, one holds a newspaper in his hands while the other has a black mourning band on his arm and smokes a cigarette.

The fellow on the very end is the jauntiest, leaning on one arm, straw hat and all attitude. Next to him, almost ghost-like due to movement during the exposure, being over-exposed and fading, is a small child in shorts, lumpy high socks (bad idea!) bunching down his legs. He is the only kid to sneak into this otherwise all adult photo.

The Tydol sign, hanging off the side of the garage, indicates that this photo was probably taken in front of the garage. There’s no way to know where this was taken. The three and four story buildings in the background make the setting at least a bit urban, but could easily be small town urban. Although found in NJ there is of course no guarantee that this was taken there and as these were truckers, we assume the fellows in the photo roamed a bit afield.

The photo is evidently glued into a pressed paper decorative mat. It was super grimy and it appears to have become one with the pressed paper mat. The back is cardboard and some torn brown paper, but with a wire that seems serviceable and ready to hang so I will be looking for exactly the right spot to install it.