Early Newspaper Food Ads

 

4-12-1886: “TRY A BOTTLE of MRS. SPAULDING'S CATSUP. -None Better- For sale by all the prominent Grocers of the city”.

7-21-1886: “THE COSHER MEAT MARKET, at No. 15 North Seventh Street. WANTED- The heads of every family to call and see the extra quality of meats which are being sold at low prices. Boiling meat sold at astonishingly low figures. ***Fresh fish daily. Orders by telephone will receive prompt attention. MARCUS WEINBERG.”

2-10-1887: “The Best is the Cheapest. Pillsbury's BEST. Minneapolis, Minn. BAKES MORE BREAD, BAKES WHITER BREAD, BAKES BETTER BREAD than any other flour manufactured. Ask your grocer for it and take no other. BUY IT. TRY IT. For Sale By T. L. MOOREHEAD, Wholesale and Retail dealer in Flour, Corn Meal, Seeds, Corn, Oats, Baled Hay and all kinds of Mill Feed. No. 190 Main St., Zanesville, Ohio.”

1-12-1889: “Gold Medal, Paris, 1878. BAKER'S BREAKFAST COCOA. W. BAKER & CO., DORCHESTER, MASS.”

11-18-1889: “One Night Only. CARNIVAL of DAYS and OYSTER LUNCHEON. Admission: 10 cents. From five to nine there will be served a luncheon, including oysters fried or stewed for 25 cents. Come early and bring your friends or family to supper. Do not disappoint us.”

1-2-1892: “We have just received a fine lot of strictly PURE MAPLE SYRUP. In 1-2 gallon cans. Try 'Sure Pop- Pop Corn. Only 10 cents per box. Our Breakfast Java at 25 cents per lb. Makes the best cup of coffee you can get for the money. HUMPHREY, Corner Seventh and Center Streets. Telephone 160.”

4-2-1895: “SEAFOOD. The quality is the best and the prices are so low that all can buy. We Lead. Let Those Who Can Follow. THE ATLANTIC TEA HOUSE. 26 OPERA BLOCK. TELEPHONE 171.”

6-5-1895: “Friends' Oats. KILN Dried. ALWAYS THE BEST. SOLD Only IN 2 Lb. Packages. FRIENDS' ROLLED OATS.”

12-25-1895: “VAN CAMP'S BOSTON BAKED PORK AND BEANS. You don't have to stew around to get them ready. Open the can and you'll find them moist, fresh and relishable. They're delicious either hot or cold. At all grocers. 10 cents, 15 cents, and 20 cents. Van Camp Packing Co., Indianapolis, Ind.”

8-14-1899: “A NEW MEMBER of the Uneeda Family is here! It is the sweet sister of Uneeda Biscuit. The new creation is a delicate wafer, flavored with ginger and christened UNEEDA JINJER WAYFER. ...Uneeda Jinjer Wayfer is in no way related to the old-fashioned ginger snap. It is more delicate in flavor, daintier in form, more delicious in every way. For sale everywhere. Made only by NATIONAL BISCUIT COMPANY.”

11-10-1906: “BOILING MEAT...4 CENTS LB. BEEF LIVER...4 CENTS LB. Pork Chops...12 ½ cents; Calves' Brains...10 cents; Liver Pudding...8 cents...; Pickled Lamb's Tongues...2 for 5 cents. Turkeys, Geese, Ducks, and Chickens. FOR SATURDAY. DEACON'S CASH MARKETS.”

6-4-1907: “If you want to start an appetite 'boom,' let the children know you have a package of ZU ZU GINGER SNAPS. Can't be beat. 5 CENTS. NATIONAL BISCUIT COMPANY.”

7-3-1907: “Distinctively the Leaders. The Greeks' big store, located next to the streetcar waiting room, is the original Greek store in Zanesville. It is the store that serves those good, big ice cream sodas with crushed fruits for 5 cents. All sodas are 5 cents, including egg phosphates, etc. ICE CREAM 20 CENTS A QT., 80 CENTS A GAL., DELIVERED FREE. KATSAMPES BROS. Earnest Katsampes, Manager.”

9-5-1907: “A BIG CAN of Gunther's Marshmallows...10 cents, at CONNER'S Drug Store.”

6-1-1911: “FOR BABY...Pure and Healthy (Milk). At your home bright and early. E.C. GREINER. Place your order today.”

Just Like Adults, Kids Can Be Picky Eaters

The other day, I was watching a Leave It to Beaver episode in which Theodore (Beaver) refused to eat the Brussels sprouts prepared by his mother for the family's supper. In real life, during the 1950s, there were few, if any, parents as patient and understanding as Beaver's, but the show did depict some of the problems that children faced.

For the most part, my mother was a wonderful cook. Her homemade bread, soups, cookies, and pies were delicious. However, like the Beaver, there were a few things I did not want to eat. One of the worst was oysters. As far as I was concerned, eating an oyster was like swallowing a big glob of snot. Dad, who certainly was not the model for Beaver's father, Ward, forced me to devour those smelly, distasteful things that some people actually try to pass off as food.

For some unknown reason, Mom laced her homemade cornbread with chunks of fat. No doubt my maternal grandfather would have been delighted; he loved nothing more than to chew on a big wad of that gruesome stuff. On the other hand, not surprisingly, I like a mouthful of fat about as much as I do a mouthful of oysters.

For both the oysters and the hunks of fat, Dad ordered me to say “poly-woggy,” and then, he argued, the awful stuff would swiftly slide down my throat, but swallowing was not the problem. Keeping those vile things from coming back up was the hardest trick.

I found a way to deal with the fat problem. Whenever cornbread was going to be served, I lined one of my pants pockets with a paper towel. While chewing on the cornbread (which was pretty good), occasionally I would bite into a hunk of fat. Very carefully (and sneakily), I transferred the fat from my mouth to my hand and then to my pocket.

Dad was happy because he believed I had obeyed his orders by swallowing the pieces of fat. After dinner, I went to the bathroom, where I emptied the fat into the toilet. One flush and my nightmare, at least for one evening, was over. Luckily, we didn't have a septic tank. I can imagine Dad having the tank cleaned some ten or so years after I had left the house. A confused worker would show him a large-sized ball composed of various animal innards.

As I have said, Dad certainly was not the model for Ward Cleaver. He was a disciplinarian who had both a thick leather belt and a razor strop at his disposal. However, despite this, there was one kind of food, or rather a part of one kind of food, that not even Dad could force me to eat. Indeed, President Eisenhower could have sent a platoon of armed National Guardsmen to our house, but even they could not have made me put a particular something into my mouth, let alone chew on it.

Along with hamburgers, French fries, and milkshakes, hot dogs were among my favorite foods. Foot-long hot dogs were better than “regular” ones, and ketchup-laden wieners were superior to those smothered with mustard. However, from my perspective, one tiny part of the hot dog was inedible.

For some strange reason, I believed a hot dog was similar to a living creature. (Can you imagine cowboys driving a herd of wild hot dogs to market? Since I prefer foot-longs, I would order them to “get a long little doggy.”) By definition, the part of the frankfurter on which I began chewing was the head. That part and the “torso” were delicious. However, if one end contained the head, then, logically, of course, the other end had to be the hot dog's butt.

I was willing to suffer through the nightmare of eating oysters, and, if necessary, even devouring the big globs of fat, but I drew the line when it came to eating butts. No matter what punishment my father dished out, under no circumstances would I eat buffalo butts, cow butts, chicken butts, turkey butts, OR hot dog butts.

Despite a lot of yelling from the adults, I held firm. Eventually, Mom and Dad surrendered. One of them would simply pick up the discarded end of the hot dog from my plate and eat it themselves. I was surprised such foolish actions didn't lead to their premature deaths.

Eventually, I “got over” this obsession with one end of a frankfurter. These days, without complaint, I eat everything my wonderful wife prepares for me, including the entire hot dog. Otherwise, she would kick my butt.

Dad Jokes

• If at first you don't succeed, then skydiving is not for you.

• What rock group has four men, but none of them sing? Mount Rushmore.

• Why are ghosts such bad liars? Because you can see right through them.

• (This one is for Maggie) What did one cannibal say to the other while they were eating a clown? “Does this taste funny to you?”

• How do you stop a bull from charging? Take away its credit card.

• What do attorneys wear to court? Law suits.

• What did the sink say to the toilet? “You look a little flushed.”

• What do you get when you cross a snowman with a vampire? Frostbite.

• What happened when a red ship and a blue ship collided at sea? Their crews were marooned.

• Why don't ghosts like to go out in the rain? Because it dampens their spirits.

• Why do bees have sticky hair? Because they use honeycombs.

• What do you call a detective who accidentally solves a case? Sheer Luck Holmes.

• I'm writing a book on reverse psychology. Don't buy it.

• Why couldn't the pony sing? Because he was a little horse.

• What happens to an illegally-parked frog? It gets toad away.

• I just found out I'm color blind. The news came out of the purple.

• Which months of the year have 28 days? All of them.

• Why was the painting sent to jail? Because it was framed.

• How do you fix a broken pumpkin? With a pumpkin patch.

• Why did the scarecrow win an award? Because he was outstanding in his field.

• Why was the bottle of ketchup arrested? Because he was watching the salad dressing.

• Why don't pirates take showers before they walk the plank? They just wash up on shore.

• What's worse than raining cats and dogs? Hailing taxis.

• Why don't eggs tell jokes? Because they might crack up.

• Where do pirates buy their hooks? At second-hand shops.

• * We hope for peace on earth and goodwill to all.

Waiting at the Doctor's Office

 Waiting at the Doctor’s Office

A few days ago, I made an appointment to see my doctor. The receptionist suggested that I eat nothing on the day of the appointment until I was seen by the doctor, just in case he wanted to do some blood tests. So the night before, I enjoyed a big meal and prepared myself mentally for the next day’s “starvation.”

The wait in the outer office was only about ten minutes, which was quite tolerable. In the examination room, the nurse checked my blood pressure and pulse rate, and then asked a few general questions. Then she informed me that the doctor would see me soon and exited the room.

She left me one of those gowns that leave one’s backside exposed. So there I sat, with goose bumps on my posterior, waiting for the doctor to arrive. For some unknown reason, the gowns are made in such a fashion that one has to reach behind his back to tie the strings, but unfortunately, I’m not very good with that maneuver.

The first fifteen minutes, I played a baseball game in my mind, but after the Yankees took a ten-run lead, I lost interest. No magazines were available, but there were several brochures about the room. For the next twenty minutes or so, I learned a great deal about constipation, diabetes, high blood pressure, heart disease, and cancer as well as other assorted medical problems. Of course, after reading the brochures, I began thinking that I might be suffering from all these diseases. No wonder the doctor wanted to see me!

Next, just for something to do, I recalled several “doctor” jokes:

“The doctor promised that he’d have me on my feet in a week,” the old man said. “Did he keep that promise?” the man’s friend asked. “He sure did. I had to sell my car to pay the doctor’s bill!”

A middle-aged man recently had surgery on both hands. He asked the doctor if, after healing, he would be able to play the piano. “Of course you will,” the doctor assured him. “That’s great!” the patient exclaimed. “I couldn’t play any musical instrument before the surgery.”

An elderly, somewhat deaf lady was being examined by the doctor. Placing the stethoscope on her chest, the doctor said, “Big breaths.” “Well, they were many years ago,” the patient replied.

A young man felt intellectually inferior to all his friends and acquaintances. Going to the doctor, the distraught man said, “Doc, I feel really stupid. Is there anything you can do for me?” The doctor replied, “Take one of these orange pills each morning and see me in a month.” By the end of the month, the poor guy still felt stupid, so he went back to see the doctor. The doctor gave him some purple pills and told the patient to see him when the pills were gone. At the end of the month, the young man saw no progress, so the doctor gave him a supply of giant green pills. A month later, the man stormed into the doctor’s office. Grabbing the physician by the throat, he exclaimed, “I think your pills are worthless! You just gave them to me to make money!” “Now you’re getting smart!“ the doctor said.

After forty-five minutes of waiting, I was bored, but most of all, I was hungry. My stomach began to growl as I obsessed about cheeseburgers, French fries, pizza, and hot dogs. How long could a person go without food? I’d not eaten anything for over eighteen hours, so surely I was at death’s door.

The doctor cannot be blamed for this long wait. It’s not as if he’d been sitting in the next room watching TV or taking a nap on one of the exam tables. No doubt one of his patients just took more time to deal with than the doc had expected..

I’ve already learned everything that I want to know about various medical problems, so I don’t need to read any more brochures. On the next visit, I’ll bring a book.

It was just a few minutes short of an hour’s wait before the doctor came into the room. After apologizing for making me wait so long, he asked a few questions, looked at a chart, and told me to continue doing what I had been doing for the last few months. While walking out the door, he stated that he’d see me in six months. Our session lasted somewhere between three and four minutes.

After making the appointment for my next visit, I rushed to my automobile. No doubt using the last ounce of energy left in my ravaged body, I grabbed a bag of potato chips from the passenger seat of the car. Within two minutes, I had devoured every tasty morsel. Hey, high cholesterol trumps starvation any time!

A Football Fanatic

1.     

“Fred, supper’s ready,” yelled his wife, Sue, from the kitchen. “We’re having spaghetti and meatballs.”

“The Central-Smith game begins in five minutes. I can’t miss the kickoff.”

“We’ll hurry, dear, but it’s important that the family takes time to eat together,” she replied.

Under his breath, Fred grumbled, “It’s important that I see my Central Bulldogs squash those idiotic Titans.”

“As head of the family, it’s your place to say a prayer,” stated Sue.

“Dear Lord, please fire up the Bulldogs. Make them stronger, faster, and more ferocious. Give them the strength to pulverize our enemies. Please give Coach Jones the wisdom to open up his offense and give those nincompoops from the North the beating of their lives. And thank you, Lord, for always being so merciful and caring. Amen.”

As the husband stuffed his face with food, Sue pleaded, “Fred, slow down. Wolfing down your food can’t be good for your indigestion, and it’s not a good example for our son. This is also a time to communicate, to share information.”

“OK, I get it,” the harried husband conceded. Todd, do you know what the average Titan football player gets on his ACT?”

“Maybe a twenty-five?” guessed the son.

“No, drool,” the football nut of a father answered.

Between clenched teeth, the wife stated, “Let’s not talk sports. Did you hear that old Mr. Creamer is getting married?”

While demolishing a meatball, the husband asked, “Isn’t he pretty old to be getting married?”

“He’s 95,” said Sue. “You know his bride, Shirley Jenkins.”

Dropping a meatball onto the floor, Fred exclaimed, “She’s only twenty-five years old! She’s after his money! This sounds like a football wedding to me.”

“What’s a football wedding?” the son inquired.

While washing off the dropped meatball, Fred replied, “It’s when a young thing marries an old dude for his money and then waits for him to KICK OFF.”

“Dad, I know that you’ve always been a football fan, but Mom hardly knows the difference between a football and a hockey puck. Why haven’t you taught her about the fine points of the game?”

“Looking up to his son, Fred explained: “I’ve been trying. Your mother is extremely intelligent, but she learns only those things that hold her interest. Just last week, I took her to a football game. Afterwards, I asked how she liked it.

‘I liked it OK,’ your mom said, ‘but I couldn’t understand why the fans were so excited about getting back 25 cents. Everyone kept yelling to get the quarter back.’ “

Exasperated, Sue responded, “That’s not true. Your dad is just sticking in an old, tired football joke. In an attempt to change the subject, Sue asked, “Fred, did you go to confession?”

“Yes, dear. As you know, the boys and I are in a Sunday afternoon football league. I asked Father Smith if it was a sin for me to play on Sundays.”

“What did he say?” the dutiful son asked.

“He said, ‘ Fred, I’ve seen you in action; it’s a sin any day that you play.”

Trying to change the subject, Sue asked, “Have you seen old Mr. Jones lately?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I saw him at a football game about three weeks ago,” the husband affirmed. “He had the best seat in the house at the fifty-yard line. Since the five seats on either side of him were empty, I asked if I could sit there.

“Help yourself,” he replied. “Normally, this seat next to me would be used by my wife, but she died.”

“I ‘m so sorry to hear about your loss,” I stated sincerely. “Where are all the other people who usually sit at these seats?” I inquired.

After taking a few swigs from his beer, Mr. Jones said, “They’re at my wife’s funeral. ”

Laughing, Todd spit out a mouthful of spaghetti. Sue gave Fred a look that could stop a clock. Frowning, she retorted, “Sports in general and football in particular are silly. I know a little something about sports. I quote Ebert Hubbard: ‘College football is a sport that bears the same relation to education that bullfighting does to agriculture.’ “

“Here’s a better quote,” said the husband: ‘Football is not a matter of life and death. It’s much more serious than that.’ That’s from a guy by the name of Bill Shankly.”

Now, rather angry, the wife argued, “You men are a bunch of Neanderthals. You always have to beat down the other guy. Females are more mature. We stress cooperation over cutthroat competition. No wonder the average guy doesn’t have any friends. You men should play your silly games just for the fun of it. Why even keep score?”

Excitedly, Fred erupted: “The great coach, Vince Lombardi, may God rest his soul, said, ‘If winning isn’t everything, why do they keep score?’ How would you know which teams to send to the Super Bowl if you didn’t keep score? How could we embarrass the Smith Titans if the world couldn’t see that the score was 55-0?”

Exasperated, Sue shrieked: “If doctors cut into a man’s brain, they’d find nothing but a bunch of sports trivia.”

Fred countered, “I’m not so sure that they’d find anything in a typical woman’s head! Besides, sports make the world go around. Todd, do you know how many Titans it takes to change a light bulb? It takes the entire team, but each player gets a semester’s credit for it! Say, I’m missing the most important game of the season! Time is wasting!”

After grabbing a cold beer and making a sandwich, Fred ran to the family room and turned on the game.

“Gosh, it’s already in the second quarter!” the husband moaned.

“What’s the score?” asked Sue.

“It’s nothing to nothing,” he replied.

“Good. See, you didn’t miss a thing!” Sue said as she walked out of the room.

Fred threw his sandwich at the departing figure, but fortunately, for his sake, like most weekend quarterbacks, his accuracy left much to be desired.  

We are Creatures of Habit

We are Creatures of Habit

A few years ago, I read about an employee who was “turned in” to management by his fellow workers for a despicable crime he had repeatedly committed. Did he beat up someone? Burn down the factory? Key the boss's car? (Only if it were a Tesla.) His crime was worse than any of these scenarios. This horrible person, this fiend, dared to eat his dessert before devouring the rest of his meal! Didn't his parents teach him right from wrong? It's a wonder the world did not come to an end!

Whether we admit it or not, most of us are creatures of habit. Repeatedly doing things the same way gives us the illusion that we can bring order and thus some control to this chaotic world.

Our minister alluded to the tendency of human beings to do things the same way even when long-held practices no longer make sense. A little girl watched as her mother chopped both ends off the meatloaf before putting it into a pan. “Why do you chop the ends off?” she asked. Mom replied: “That's the way your grandma taught me. You will have to ask her.” Grandma explained, “I have always done it that way because my mother did it.” While the little girl was visiting her great-grandmother, who was living in an assisted living unit, the elderly lady explained, “Your great-grandfather and I were poor. We had only one pan, but the meatloaf was too big for it.”

Speaking of the church, although there are no nameplates, each attendant has chosen their seat. Occasionally, the minister will ask us to move to new areas to meet and greet others. Grudgingly, we do so, but the next week we once again occupy our chosen spots.

I remember in school the teacher usually assigned seats, which was probably a good idea. Whenever the students could sit wherever they pleased, they tended to pick seats next to their buddies, which led to more talking and goofing off.

There were two old guys on an Andy Griffith program who were continuing a feud between their families that had gone on for several generations. When asked why the families were feuding, neither man knew. It was just something every generation did.

Unfortunately, the first house in which I lived had neither a shower nor a bathtub. (The toilet was located in a little building at the end of the property.) Every Saturday night, whether we were dirty or not, Mom heated water on the stove and then poured it into a large tub. As I remember, Dad, the king of the house, had the honor of bathing first, followed by Mom, my brother, the older of my two sisters, my younger sister, and finally, myself. After bathing in water that had been used five times previously, I was probably dirtier than I was before the bath!

Each of us had our own chair at the breakfast table. If you stood at the entrance separating the kitchen from the dining room, you would see Dad at the head of the table on the right, washing down his meal with a gigantic mug of coffee. Mom was directly across the table from him. On the far side of the table, next to Mom, was the older of my two sisters; next to her was my brother. On the other side, next to Mom, was my other sister. The last seat left belonged to yours truly. Maybe the world would not have come to an end if we had occasionally changed the seating plans, but why take a chance?

Until my brother was old enough to drive, the seating arrangements in the car were: Dad behind the wheel; Mom in the front passenger seat; yours truly between them; brother behind Dad; younger of two sisters in the middle; other sister behind Mom. When big brother drove, Dad took Mom's spot; Mom took brother's spot in the backseat.

My wonderful wife and I have much in common, but I have noticed she does not put on her shoes and socks correctly. Everybody knows that God commands us to put on both socks before donning shoes, but she persists in doing sock-shoe-sock-shoe. I'm surprised her parents didn't deal with this aberration when she was a child.

Of course, I had my own strange habit. In order to protect my delicate digestive system, I refused to eat one end of a hot dog. By definition, the end I ate was the head, so the other end had to be the butt. Isn't that logical? Not even Dad, who could coerce me into swallowing slippery, slimy oysters and cornbread laced with chunks of fat, could get me to eat a hot dog's rear end. In my defense, at least I knew the proper way to put on my socks and shoes!  

'I've Learned a Lot from TV

I received a good education from our public schools. In fact, since I took two years of Latin, if the Roman Empire ever comes back, I can use my linguistic knowledge to get a job at the United Nations as an interpreter: “The new Julius Caesar says, 'All roads, except Interstate 70, still lead to Rome.'”

With that being said, my education has been enhanced tremendously by what I have learned from TV programs. Who needs a PHD when these sources of information are available?

Just the other day, I learned why we have never found the bones or even the waste materials of those creatures we call Bigfoot. Surprisingly, even my skeptical-by-nature wife believes such a creature exists. When I told her what I had learned about the creature from a recent TV show, she stated, “I saw one of those hairy, ugly creatures the other day.”

Wanting to know more, I asked: “Where did you see it?”

“It was getting out of our bathtub!”

“Very funny! That was me!” That's what I get for marrying a comedian.

Anyway, the aforementioned program explained why, except for some huge footprints and some blurry photographs, we have no hard evidence that these mysterious creatures actually exist. According to the recent TV program, whenever Bigfoot feels ill, he simply transports himself into another dimension. I suppose he does this out of respect for our ecosystem. Evidently, out of simple courtesy, he travels to another dimension whenever nature calls, or perhaps he goes to San Francisco. Who would notice a little extra pile of waste on top of the mess already there?

For a couple of thousand years, experts have tried to figure out how the Egyptians built their pyramids so precisely. We know they are constructed almost perfectly, but historians, archaeologists, and engineers tell us the ancient Egyptians did not have the technology to build them. Yet, there they are.

Thanks to watching a particular TV show, I've solved this mystery. True, the ancient Egyptians lacked the technology and the equipment to do the job, but they got some help. Long ago, aliens from a faraway galaxy came to Earth. Their technology level was way beyond what we have even today. Being some of the nicer guys in the universe, these dudes rolled up their sleeves (They might have had several arms, so we don't know how many sleeves) and built these lasting monuments.

Evidently, those ancient Egyptians lucked out, because I learned that some advanced aliens come here to do us harm. A TV program showed aliens who arrived on Earth and soon eradicated disease and starvation. They seemed like such nice fellows, so when they began free visits to their planet, thousands of Earthlings accepted their offer.

One skeptical human being was able to discover what the strange language in one of their books meant. Sadly, by this time, his girlfriend was on her way to their far-off planet. The book was a cookbook that listed various ways to prepare humans. Folks, these were one-way trips. My wife said this show was fictional, but I'm not so sure. I do know this: Some space aliens cannot be trusted.

Although Nostradamus lived long ago, many of his predictions have been spot-on. For example, he described the coming of Hitler and barely missed the demented dictator's actual name. How did he do this? Was it magic? Was he a good guesser? If you don't watch much TV, you probably don't know the answer to this puzzle.

You see, advanced aliens, who no doubt had the ability to travel through time, gave Nostradamus his information. Of course, they would not have been the aliens who came here to fatten us up; they would have eaten the poor guy. Maybe it was the nice aliens who took the time to help the ancient Egyptians.

As you can see, one cannot obtain a full education from simply attending our public schools and universities. The real mysteries of life are solved by watching TV. Just today, for example, I learned from a commercial that food loaded with sugar is really good for you. You can take that information to the bank.