JB's Warehouse & Curio Emporium

Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face, Great chieftain o' the puddin-race! Aboon them a' ye tak your place, Painch, tripe, or thairm: Weel are ye wordy of a grace As lang's my arm. The groaning trencher there ye fill, Your hurdies like a distant hill, Your pin wad help to mend a mill In time o' need, While thro' your pores the dews distil Like amber bead. His knife see rustic Labour dight, An' cut ye up wi' ready slight, Trenching your gushing entrails bright Like onie ditch; And then, O what a glorious sight, Warm-reekin, rich! Then, horn for horn, they strech an' strive: Deil tak the hindmost! on they drive, Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve, Are bent like drums; Then auld Guidman, maist like to rive, 'Bethankit!' hums. Is there that owre his French ragout Or olio that wad staw a sow, Or fricassee wad mak her spew Wi' perfect sconner, Looks down wi' sneering, scornfu' view On sic a dinner? Poor devil! see him owre hi

Source: Teen-Age Love #70, May 1970 Word placement is crucial when trying to sell a product. The manufacturers of this low-end weight loss aid should have fired the ad designer or the 1930s-era doctor staring into his microscope for continuing to suggest that fattening foods are delicious. I suspect the designer was clumsy when pasting together the Dr. Kildare wannabe, text from the 1950s and a picture of his girlfriend from their Florida vacation three years ago. Then again, the intent might be to subtly convince weight-conscious teens that sneaking a few snacks is OK, which leads to continued purchases of Vel-X to reduce extra flab that never quite disappears. Also note the very small print near the bottom of the middle column that "your own experience may, of course, vary." Gullible readers were too exhausted by the sheer volume of text used in this ad (or the repetition of "thousands" of users, who were actually Lily and Janice Thousands of Cedarhurst, NY

My name is Jamie and I am an Indian food addict. Other than a menu in the family map box for the Himalaya restaurant in Windsor, I grew up with no exposure to Indian food. Dad occasionally swooned about it, but Mom never cared for curry so I suspect he had to live without it for years. I balked the first time he tried to introduce me to the cuisine, during a family trip to Toronto where I insisted everyone eat together since we had been separated all day. I suspect I was pooped from a long day of walking and wanted something familiar, which ended up being Swiss Chalet. Dad grumbled and I don't blame him. I was open on his second attempt, during our annual session of watching the Christmas high school basketball tournament at the University of Windsor. Dad watched the games and chatted with fellow coaches from the county, while I tagged along for food. Usually we went to the long-defunct South Campus Place, where I was introduced to french onion soup in a crock. He discovered a

Today, another ad burned in the brain of anyone who watched Detroit television in the 1980s. To the strains of the theme from It's A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World , the residents of the Detroit Zoo gear up for another day of curious onlookers. I usually encountered this ad while watching cartoons on Detroit's independent stations. Even as a kid I could sense which non-network channels were better than others. For the uninitiated, here are quick sketches of the three main indies during the 1980s: Channel 50 (WKBD) : The classiest of the bunch. Had a sister station in Chicago. Usually ran the better syndicated shows, movies and cartoon packages. Produced its own newscast, anchored for years by Amyre Makupson . Ran the odd editorial in between sitcom reruns. Carried Red Wings and Pistons games. Endless Star Trek reruns. Later an affiliate for Fox, UPN and CW. Channel 20 (WXON) : Production values were a step down from Channel 50 (weaker graphics, grainier station IDs, etc).

Sights from a week back home... Christmas morning in downtown Amherstburg. I assumed everyone else in town was still busy opening presents. We opened ours on Christmas Eve and Santa was in a good mood this year. I'll be watching DVDs for months, Amy will be merrily making cookies with her KitchenAid, Gavin will relax with a Simpsons throw, Charlie will be chasing toys and Mom will go on a shopping spree. To work off Mom's turkey feast, Amy and I checked out River Lights in Navy Yard Park. This was the town's first major illuminated display (usually the extent of public lighting is Christmas trees on light poles) and the organizers pulled it off. Figures were strewn through the north end of the park. Some, like the three wise man, were formed in lines... ...while other, like these see-sawing gingerbread men, were animated (even if the camera caught the moment the lights switched). Boxing Day saw Amy and I go for our annual dim sum feast at Wah Court . We may

Amherstburg Coast Guard station, looking towards Boblo Island, early 1970s As is usual for the holidays, I drove back to Toronto with a full trunk. Tucked among the gifts, Trader Joe's bags and ironed shirts was a box of photos that sat around the house for years. Spurred by regular visits to historical image sites such as International Metropolis along with several Flickr contacts who recently posted vintage photos from their families, I figured there might be interesting shots lurking within. While most of our family photos are housed in albums, there are a pile from the early 1970s that never earned this honour. Most of these photos were family candids, local landscapes or closeups of flowers. These photos were originally in a small box, then placed in a larger shoebox when pictures ranging from Granddad's 1950s fishing trips to Amy's university outtakes were added. But it's the core photos that grabbed my attention. Why they weren't placed in an album

A few shots of Roy Square before the One Bloor East condo tower sends this little corner of the city into the history books. Left: the notice indicating the end is near. Right: the Naval Club, a fixture in the neighbourhood for decades, is among the businesses and organizations moving out . Full set of photos .

Day 365. Usually it's my first full day back in the city after spending a week with the family, a day to get reacquainted with Toronto. The last day of 2007 was no exception to the rule. I started off with a trip downtown to catch some lingering Boxing Week sales, causing damage to my pocketbook. Mirvish Village yielded several cookbooks and a half-dozen mangl..well-loved comics from the 50s through 70s. Kensington Market yielded a bag of poblano peppers and several on-the-go snacks. A clearance sale at The Bay at Queen and Yonge added to the new wardrobe I built up over the Christmas break. Discovery of the day: while passing by Honeydale Mall on a west-end grocery run, I noticed the bees over the doorway had vanished, replaced with non-descript lettering (mental note to take camera on next trip to that area for a future "before/after" post). The early evening was spent batch scanning photos from the early 1970s that lay in a box back home - more on those in the