Typical of journal writing, as with life, there are periods of feast and famine. Compared with yesterdays entries, today’s is a feast.

For a moment I thought that it had cost my grandfather, Poppa, $147.20 to mail his Social Security check via ‘air-mail’, then I dope slapped myself  (insert “D’oh” ala Homer Simpson here) realizing that the amount of the check was $147.20. Also as I read I am reminded of my own dad’s financial stresses. My dad’s stresses were normal, whatever that is, in that he was always trying to get the best deal, save as much as he could, yet splurge on holidays. I could easily see my dad writing something similar. I never got the sense my folks were ever in any danger of financial collapse, but my dad was a bit capricious with his expenses so finances were often a topic of dinner conversation. Maybe that was a function of my parents being children of the Depression. Whatever the case, though finances were a frequent topic of household discussion, my brother and I never suffered from a lack of want.

His entry regarding television is interesting, not sure if he watched or not. Um, ok, not. I think his anticipation of the nightly news is not too far off from what we might see today. However, we’re inured to most of the topics on the nightly news. For someone born in the late 19th century to whom television was a relatively new technology, hearing a nightly summary of the days events might have been a bit much. Case in point, just prior to beginning this post I was scrolling around on Facebook, and noticed this:

To my 21st Century self the stories in the ‘trending’ pane (is that right? ‘Pane’? Should it be box? Column? Meh.) while disturbing, don’t evoke much of a reaction in me as I see/hear similar headlines 24/7. Ok, 24/7 is an exaggeration, I do sleep and work and stuff, but relative to my grandpa I see disturbing headlines regularly. In fact, I often take a break from the news over the weekend as following the news regularly can wear one out.

I wonder what he meant by paying $2.50 for a steak dinner for the annual meeting of the Tarrant County Medical Society, that wasn’t the annual meeting. Was there a meeting at all? Did he get the steak dinner? (Totally something my dad would’ve done.) Also typical of my Dad, Poppa complained of begin ‘fussed’ at again by Mimi, then seemed to take it in stride “…after 50 years.” I ‘hear’ a hint of sweetness in that statement. My curiosity is piqued by the “T.B.?” I can’t make out the sentence that follows. Does he think a friend has it or does he have it and he’s had it before?

Not much going on these pages from 1908 despite the misspelled words. Vegables?  I do find the Pepto-Mangan content interesting and am wondering why there is such detail regarding how the product is sold. Maybe it hasn’t been patented? Maybe it’s before patent law? I’m also struck by the formality of the writing. “Peerless”? “Ardent”? Apparently it’s an unrivaled iron tonic that garners enthusiastic support.

Iron tonic?