A little over a year ago I posted a blog with the name Show and Tell. Now for the follow-up. Like its predecessor, Number 2 has the same origins in a lifetime accumulation of odds and ends, gathered together for no reason other than their lack of present-day utility, and their appeal to the curious. These items have been appreciated by groups of older folk at the nearby Senior Citizens’ Centre. The flash of recognition of some item remembered from long ago but not seen for years has a special sweetness.
Shoe Stretcher
I had thought that this item might be covered by the description “shoe softener”, but a search under those words produces references to numerous preparations and unguents for application to stiff leather to unstiffen it, not to primitive mechanical devices such as this. And I had recollected seeing this type of device in retail shoe establishments, where a rather-too-tightly fitting shoe was subjected to a softening up by the sales assistant as an alternative to the shrinking of the customer’s foot. That process may sometimes have occurred; but, apparently, the preferred use for this contraption was for the softening of shoes to make space for bunions. So not so much of a commercial application, but a household one.
This particular implement has no branding or maker’s attribution, so it may well be a product of the blacksmith’s art. If so, the craftsmanship far exceeds the importance of such a mundane item. It’s easy to see how this leather softening device functions but, although it’s a whopper of a tool, I’m guessing that it’s for shoes only - the throat is not long enough for the device to be used on calf-height boots, even where the boot leg is scrunched up. Equestrians with bunions may simply have had to suck it up.
Boot Lacer
It’s not a bad idea to avoid double negatives. Indeed, it’s likely a good idea. Yet a double negative can hold separate meaning from the opposite. For instance, I wouldn’t claim that over all I had a good time when I was enlisted for National Service Training in the Australian Army, but then the experience was not bad either. This is really a silly oversimplification, anyway, because the experience comprised a multitude of experiences spread over months. And here I’m about to reduce all of that to one aspect only – the boots.
But, before the boots hit the ground, a bit of background. It is January 1958. The Korean War is sufficiently in the past for Australian people and Governments to be tiring of National Service for young men, and tiring of the compulsory system that had pertained since the Korean War. The system had been bastardised from “all 18-years old men” to the “birthday ballot” (roughly one in three). The Navy and the Air Force were no longer involved. So, my time of service might be described as the dying days, but it was serious nonetheless, at least there no choice but to take it seriously. For those desperate to know, compulsory National Service Training was abolished a little later, in 1959……..only to be revived in 1962, for 20-years old men, in response to the Vietnam War…….then finally abolished in December 1972 when the Whitlam Government came to power.
Memory hasn’t failed, but it has gone through the blender: I know we travelled one time to camp at Puckapunyal in army trucks (direct from the depot alongside the Yarra near Yarra Park – long gone), but I equally know that we trained from the then Spencer Street Station to Dysart Siding south of Seymour, thence to be transferred to army trucks for the short run to Puckapunyal. Or maybe it was to the Army's Site 17 on the other side of Seymour.
That day of first arrival at Puckapunyal each recruit was issued with two pairs of boots. Mine are with me still. I am not anti-army and, (pun alert!) in defensive mode over the years, I have remarked that the Army often got things right; and issuing footwear that was likely to outlast the next war was one such instance. Another, was separating the some hundreds of each intake into recruits of roughly similar backgrounds and levels of education. Consistent with this approach, was the identification of men who were illiterate or of very limited education [yes, in Australia in 1956, there were about 30 of these in that summer intake] and the separating of these men from much of their regular training, and intensively educating them during their time in camp. For that the Army can be forgiven a lot of its foibles.
And, before I’m completely lost in nostalgia, I must revert to the boot lacer. The name is comprehensively descriptive, but that’s not enough. One needs to know that the boots of its day – at least the boots for which this gadget was the accompaniment – did not have eyelets through which laces were threaded; the boots had hooks. The laces were pulled around the hooks rather than through holes, a much faster process for execution during surprise attack when one was caught in one’s bunk. And the little lacer is just the ticket.
An interesting feature: embossed on the handle is the maker’s mark: Wm. LEEMING, Nth. MELB. & PRAHRAN. And in the tiniest of lettering: USA. Since when did a Melbourne firm have its products manufactured in the USA? Well….if you Google Wm. LEEMING the first entry to appear is an item from the collection of Museums Victoria, an 1885 commemorative ceramic plate from Leemings Boot Stores, 109 Swanston Street. Leemings is described as “arguably Victoria’s most advertised bootery”.
Butter Paddle (Antique)
Check out “butter paddle” on the internet, and you’ll see plenty of examples, and they all have similar features. They have grooves, for controlling the pats of butter while being shaped and squeezed, and for allowing the buttermilk to drain away. They are paddle shaped, and they come in pairs. So, what’s with this item? The lack of a mate might be attributed to bad luck, or even carelessness, but the lack of grooves seems to be an impediment too far. Moreover, the small face would drive the typical milkmaid bananas. And yet it is a butter paddle, the internet identifies it as such. By adding the search word “antique” an array of shapes appears before you; and by “asking about” the image an even more curated bunch of butter paddle images appears. They are varied beyond belief, but an extensive image crawl reveals not one like my (by now becoming extremely valuable) artifact – a rustic dairy tool, no less. Hand crafted, for sure; born from the rarest of river-rescued huon pine, undoubtedly. Who knows the death toll of intrepid timber getters? Do not think cheap when you submit your offer.
“Silvermoth” Box
“Protects your Clothes from Moths and Silverfish”, so says the slogan on the packet. Unlike its rival products, the contents of this box were powder rather than mothballs. Whether or not the product was effective, there was undoubtedly a marketing flaw: since the little box was placed in a darkened spot, where the pests were presumed to loiter, it tended to be forgotten. So, the lethal contents might well evaporate before the householder realised that a replacement was needed – the very antithesis of planned obsolescence. This box, empty and odourless, was found in the back of a built-in attic wardrobe when we moved the family home in 1975. The telephone number numbering system comprising two numerals and four digits [MU 3829] was discontinued in 1960, and who knows how many years prior to 1960 the packet had done its work?
Snake Bite Kit
I don’t recall whether these little snake bite kits were part of each Boy Scout’s necessary accoutrements, probably not. But they would have been included in the gear kept at the scout hall, and would definitely have been taken to every camp and outdoor excursion. I see an identical item on eBay, comprehensively described thus: 1910s Vintage Antique Cylinder Cutter Lance Snake Bite First Aid Kit. The illustration shows how there is a lance at one end of the gadget, customarily kept safe in its capped compartment. The other end has a hollow compartment too – also capped, for storing Condy’s Crystals [aka potassium permanganate], a popular antiseptic and disinfectant. The conventional first aid response to being bitten by a snake was: (1) to wipe away from the fang punctures any venom remaining on the skin, (2) using the lance, to excise the bite, (3) to suck the venom from the wound, (4) if the bite is on a limb, to apply pressure to the bite area, and apply a tourniquet “above” the bite. In recent times most of this routine has been deleted from the recommended procedure: no excising of the bite area, no sucking of the wound, no tourniquet. In short: bandage, immobilise the limb, anti-venene as soon as possible, and hospitalisation.
I see that a little short of 600 Australians are hospitalised each year with snake bite, so it’s a frequent enough occurrence for all schoolchildren to be taught snake bite first aid. There’s plenty of information available on the net, but that’s not much use if you’re foolish enough to be bitten beyond telephonic reception.
Tyre Tube Repair Kit Tin
This kit is for bicycles not for automobiles. And it’s a bit of a puzzle, because the tin is empty. So, use your imagination, and picture the missing pieces of tiny sandpaper, the supply of rubber patches, the tube of glue, a scraper, a wax crayon, a piece of chalk, and a couple of small tyre levers. Absent is the tub of water for locating the leak in the tube - inconvenient to organise at home, and rarely waiting handy by the roadside.
Cigar Case
Just as in the movies of old, where the cowboys with black hats were the villains (baddies) and those with the white hats were the heroes (goodies), so too with the dispensing of cigars. There was a code. If the film character offered his guest a cigar from the box or the humidor he was okay, but if he helped himself to a cigar without proffering one to his guest then he was most decidedly on the nose. This vignette is part of a large mythology about cigars, including about humidors themselves. “A humidor’s primary function is to maintain a steady, desirable moisture level inside……A humidor is the only tool that creates the perfect stable environment to protect your cigars…..Using the wrong type of water (that is, not distilled) can introduce mould, leave unsightly mineral deposits and, worst of all, compromise the flavour and longevity of your cigars.”
The pictured case is clearly not a humidor, and one can but hope that in its real life its contents hadn’t been breast-pocketed around for days or weeks but, rather, had been lovingly transferred from a humidor this very morning on the way to the owner’s city club.
Draft Horse Bit
My acquaintance with horses is less than intimate, but not unfriendly. There was one time when my cousin Graeme. and I were venturing from his family farm at Chinkapook, riding bareback together on faithful Jewel. I had not buttoned my holster, and after a bit of a jolt my six-shooter cap gun dropped to the track below. No problem, you would think, but after some very serious deliberation we concluded that if I dismounted to collect the gun we wouldn’t be able to get me back on to Jewel's rump – Jewel was a very wide-arsed mare, somewhat pregnant at the time. So, with some reluctance (and with some imprecation heaped on me – it was my cousin’s six-shooter!) we continued the several miles home. When my uncle took us back to retrieve the revolver next morning, inevitably the laws of a malevolent universe had turned a cog, and on this remote bush track the revolver had been crushed by a passing vehicle.
My other horse anecdote is equally ignominious. In my early office years one of my colleagues, Adrian Seymour, commuted each morning to the Melbourne CBD from Lilydale, some 35 kms distant. His folks were serious horse people, and so was he, and they had a substantial rural property to indulge their passion. The influence on Adrian’s workmates was enormous: over the early years of our careers we had numerous days out at the farm, and numerous horse-riding excursions. One such is the trigger for my second horse anecdote. There were more than a dozen of us, and we assembled at a riding school in the Dandenongs to be allocated our horses for the day, and to be saddled up. Some time into the excursion we were proceeding along a country road at a fairly brisk canter, me more optimistic than skilful, when the road took a sweeping corner. So did my horse. My willingness to play along was somewhat stymied by the fact that the saddle strap under the horse’s girth had not been properly tightened, and the saddle - and I - did a 180 degrees rotation. The horse was somewhat disconcerted by the sudden appearance of saddlery and rider under its belly, but it didn’t bolt. It was pulled up safely by one of our group and, unbelievably, no harm was done to man or beast. With a seriously tightened cinch, we were soon on our way again.
Reverting to the pictured bit, it should be mentioned for the benefit of the unaware, that in her wisdom Mother Nature had equipped horses with gaps between the teeth to the rear of their lower jawline – the so-called interdental space - gaps that allow bits of appropriate size to be inserted. So, the symbiosis between man and horse was pretty much engineered from the start.
Adjustable Date Stamp
In the business offices of my memory the sorting of the morning mail used to be something of a ritual, and part of that ritual was the stamping of each item of mail with today’s date. This date-stamping represented permanent (and incontrovertible) evidence of receipt; and I expect that, tucked in the corporate consciousness somewhere, was the atavistic belief that there was a sound reason why such a process was for “legal” purposes, or was at least prudent practice just in case. The Date Stamp has four rubber rings, each one with numerals or letters embossed – day/day/month/year. The rings, and hence the embossed specifics, are rotated each day using a simple finger or thumb action. In these electronic days one presumes that there is some less old-fashioned process for achieving the same comfort re the incoming mail. Regardless, items similar to this device remain available from every stationer, and on line. Time has not rendered them redundant.
So, how come this Adjustable Date Stamp has a place in a “show and tell” line-up? Simply because this specific date stamp has been superseded, and is indeed unusable. Its available dates range from 1 January 1979 to 31 December 1990. More so than every other item in this Show and Tell compilation this Adjustable Date Stamp has no function whatever.
Gary Andrews
No comments:
Post a Comment