We certainly had our variations of baseball. Box ball to hose ball. Actual bats to broomsticks. A half ball, piece of hose, pimple or tennis ball, a hard ball that was probably wrapped for the 2nd or 3rd time with tape.
We played almost anywhere. A public playground when the field was open; a vacant lot with tin cans and broken bottles ( tho I don't recall anyone sliding into a base). Mostly there were no baseball gloves, bare handed hardball was it.
There was an organized league called "The Babe Ruth League", but I never knew anyone who was in it. The public playground was a field of black cinders but they had real bases and we could slide into a base with little damage.
A bathhouse was part of the playground and of course there was girl's day and boy's day. To enter you had to have a dry bathing suit. The swim time was about 45 minutes. We went for the early swim, about 11 am. Played some ball 'til our suits dried then went in for another swim. On saturday we still had time for a matinee at the movie. On Sunday, the church dance and pizza at Fiore's afterward or a malted milk shake and cheese steak at a corner store. When we felt like walking, it was Pat's Steaks on 9th and Passyunk for a special treat.
At that time Philadelphia had 2 major league teams, Phillies and Athletics. My uncle Reds took me to a Phillies game and they won. Thanks uncle Reds.
My uncle Reds (Levino DiLiberato) was a unique individual of many skills. He road the rails as a vagabond, crossing the country many times in railroad box cars. He played the violin, mandolin and was a National Checker Champion and competitive as a National Chess Champion.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Monday, November 1, 2010
DonofCooking: FOOTBALL in the 40's
DonofCooking: FOOTBALL in the 40's: "Football in the street; two hand touch. Our ball was rolled up newspaper wrapped with string. We dodged a pile of manure here and there, but..."
FOOTBALL in the 40's
Football in the street; two hand touch. Our ball was rolled up newspaper wrapped with string. We dodged a pile of manure here and there, but it was still fun.
When someone came up with a real football we went to Columbus Park and played tackle. We never had a full team on either side, but we could mix it up.
The only time I was ever injured is the one and only time I wore equipment; helmet, shoulder pads and knee pads. One play is all it took. It was the kick off. The ball went sailing over my head, I turned to see where it was going and the damned thing bounced backward, landed in my arms and the whole team hit me. I only went down on one knee. The ankle of that leg was where half the tacklers ended up.
I limped to the sideline and my vision turned purple. The whole world was purple. I passed out for about 10 or 20 seconds. For the next 3 weeks as I limped about, the guys called me elephant ankle. Never again wore equipment and I never lost my appetite for football or food.
When someone came up with a real football we went to Columbus Park and played tackle. We never had a full team on either side, but we could mix it up.
The only time I was ever injured is the one and only time I wore equipment; helmet, shoulder pads and knee pads. One play is all it took. It was the kick off. The ball went sailing over my head, I turned to see where it was going and the damned thing bounced backward, landed in my arms and the whole team hit me. I only went down on one knee. The ankle of that leg was where half the tacklers ended up.
I limped to the sideline and my vision turned purple. The whole world was purple. I passed out for about 10 or 20 seconds. For the next 3 weeks as I limped about, the guys called me elephant ankle. Never again wore equipment and I never lost my appetite for football or food.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
PIZZA and More in South Philly
After the church dance or a movie at the Broadway theatre on Broad & Snyder, or Earl theatre, the Venice, Alahambra, Plaza, Colonial and more, me and a few friends headed to FIORE'S pizza for the largest pizza they made, 1/2 ea. of anchovies & pepperoni and a giant pitcher of root beer. That topped off the night.
There was a soda fountain almost every block where you can get an extra thick malted milk shake for 20¢, even at drug stores, and many where you can get a cheese steak and shake for 45¢.
Those days there was a cop on the beat and when he said move, WE MOVED. Although we were duop guys and sang on the corner. It was all great fun but we respected authority. They were there for us and we rarely had to lock our doors. In summer half the block would sleep on the pavement on really hot nights, no air conditioning and few fans.
Street lights, all gas. Yes we had the "old lamplighter of long long ago". He would light the lamps and go on. Then they managed to remote control them, I guess that lost some jobs...progress you know.
FRESH, FRESH, FRESH. Hucksters through our streets, all day, every day. Vegetables, fish, fruit, eggs, you name it. A carousel for the kids, waffles and ice cream, Knife sharpening and umbrella repairs. Pushcarts of Italian water ice, Federal Pretzels. ice cream on almost every corner. These were men driven by a sense of responsibility to Family,. Independent and proud.
As a small boy my parents took me for evening walks through Passyunk Avenue, the longest crooked street in the world. I call it "the street of pushcarts".. There may very well have been a dozen pushcarts in each block, not sure. What did they offer? Steamed and raw clams, steamed mussels, hot dogs, waffles with icecream, corn on the cob and more than I can recall. Along our route were furniture stores, clothing stores and restaurants.
Photographers in the 30s. Some stood on street corners and made portraits, some came through the street with a pony and dressed kids up like cowboys and in a matter of minutes you had a portrait on a painted pony. All before Polaroid.
There was a soda fountain almost every block where you can get an extra thick malted milk shake for 20¢, even at drug stores, and many where you can get a cheese steak and shake for 45¢.
Those days there was a cop on the beat and when he said move, WE MOVED. Although we were duop guys and sang on the corner. It was all great fun but we respected authority. They were there for us and we rarely had to lock our doors. In summer half the block would sleep on the pavement on really hot nights, no air conditioning and few fans.
Street lights, all gas. Yes we had the "old lamplighter of long long ago". He would light the lamps and go on. Then they managed to remote control them, I guess that lost some jobs...progress you know.
FRESH, FRESH, FRESH. Hucksters through our streets, all day, every day. Vegetables, fish, fruit, eggs, you name it. A carousel for the kids, waffles and ice cream, Knife sharpening and umbrella repairs. Pushcarts of Italian water ice, Federal Pretzels. ice cream on almost every corner. These were men driven by a sense of responsibility to Family,. Independent and proud.
As a small boy my parents took me for evening walks through Passyunk Avenue, the longest crooked street in the world. I call it "the street of pushcarts".. There may very well have been a dozen pushcarts in each block, not sure. What did they offer? Steamed and raw clams, steamed mussels, hot dogs, waffles with icecream, corn on the cob and more than I can recall. Along our route were furniture stores, clothing stores and restaurants.
Photographers in the 30s. Some stood on street corners and made portraits, some came through the street with a pony and dressed kids up like cowboys and in a matter of minutes you had a portrait on a painted pony. All before Polaroid.
Monday, September 27, 2010
ITEM 5 - In-laws and Food
Another adventure in good eating. Beginning with my mother-in-law Marie, before she was, and sunday dinner. You can count on a ton of pasta, meatballs and sausage. On occasion, half moon large ravioli that melts in your mouth. Among her culinary accomplishments was eggplant like I never tasted. She passed on these skills to my sister-in-law Ann, who eventually did most of the cooking, while my wife did the ironing. This is all when we were single.
Sunday dinner usually found about seven of us at the table with pasta and a gallon of my father-in-law John's homemade red wine. In South Philly we called it Diego Red. John would sing a couple of old Italian songs to top off dinner. What great fun that was. I of course, after dinner, dozed off on the couch for about an hour, then my girlfriend Connie and I went to a movie.
My mother-in-law Marie, what a woman, had no easy life. She was born and raised on a farm in Italy; an arranged marriage to a South Philly Italian, native of Italy. Marie was 40 years old and unbeknownst to her, he was 70. She learned English and always worked. Her 2 daughters were her ultimate concern.
My sister-in-law Ann was a marvelous cook and a specialty of her's was stuffed olives and mushrooms. No matter how many she made, they were devoured almost instantly. May sound like small items but they took much time and work. Her husband Bob made excellent cranberries on Thanksgiving. He also made an incredible Fruit Cake. Not something you can stick in the oven and serve when it cools. It takes, from what I understand, a couple of months, requiring constant observation and cultivation. Someone once said there was only one fruit cake ever made and it keeps getting passed around; not so with Bob's, you just gotta eat it.
I hope you all understand the most critical ingredient here is LOVE. Without it, little will be accomplished.
Sunday dinner usually found about seven of us at the table with pasta and a gallon of my father-in-law John's homemade red wine. In South Philly we called it Diego Red. John would sing a couple of old Italian songs to top off dinner. What great fun that was. I of course, after dinner, dozed off on the couch for about an hour, then my girlfriend Connie and I went to a movie.
My mother-in-law Marie, what a woman, had no easy life. She was born and raised on a farm in Italy; an arranged marriage to a South Philly Italian, native of Italy. Marie was 40 years old and unbeknownst to her, he was 70. She learned English and always worked. Her 2 daughters were her ultimate concern.
My sister-in-law Ann was a marvelous cook and a specialty of her's was stuffed olives and mushrooms. No matter how many she made, they were devoured almost instantly. May sound like small items but they took much time and work. Her husband Bob made excellent cranberries on Thanksgiving. He also made an incredible Fruit Cake. Not something you can stick in the oven and serve when it cools. It takes, from what I understand, a couple of months, requiring constant observation and cultivation. Someone once said there was only one fruit cake ever made and it keeps getting passed around; not so with Bob's, you just gotta eat it.
I hope you all understand the most critical ingredient here is LOVE. Without it, little will be accomplished.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
ITEM 4 - FUN, GAMES, SCHOOL
Hi Tech today is a challenge for every young person and amazes me how they manage to keep up with the almost daily advances. Hi Tech for us was when you got a pair of pants that had a fly with a zipper rather than buttons. You gotta believe that was progress.
Mostly, we made our own toys (no K-Mart) and mostly of wood. A toy car fueled with vinegar and baking soda that moved like a jet. Rubber band guns to play cops and robbers; homemade scooters from apple crates, a 2x4 and an old skate. Communications devices with flashlight batteries, wood, some tin and wire; of course we had to learn Morse Code. But there was always 2 Dixie cups and some string.
I scaled the corner of the two story building, which had enough of an indentation in the bricks (about every foot) for me to get to the roof and retrieve our hose balls, pimple balls and half balls. I tossed them down to my friends and we were back in business. I did not come down the same way. I negotiated to our bedroom window, then to the canopy above our front door and from there it was a piece of cake.
I made my own shoe shine box and made a little money for treats and movies. if it sounds hard, it wasn't. It was fun, challenging and a bit profitable. At that particular time I attended Catholic school (about 2+ years) and I'm certain I was a challenge to the Nuns, who made me quite familiar with the yard stick and pointer. My wisdom was lacking in those days and I didn't know when to keep my mouth shut.
On to public grammar school and my 5th grade teacher, Mrs. Trimble. Magnificent. Don't recall my grades. Junior high, Vare, in South Philly - Mr.Siedel. 9th grade, also magnificent. I learned more from him than he will ever know. He failed me in 2 major subjects and rightfully so. I simply did not carry out the assignments. Actually he did not fail me, I failed him, my apologies, Sir.
Junior High - all I can say is, my sympathy and apologies to all the wonderful teachers that tolerated us.
Mostly, we made our own toys (no K-Mart) and mostly of wood. A toy car fueled with vinegar and baking soda that moved like a jet. Rubber band guns to play cops and robbers; homemade scooters from apple crates, a 2x4 and an old skate. Communications devices with flashlight batteries, wood, some tin and wire; of course we had to learn Morse Code. But there was always 2 Dixie cups and some string.
I scaled the corner of the two story building, which had enough of an indentation in the bricks (about every foot) for me to get to the roof and retrieve our hose balls, pimple balls and half balls. I tossed them down to my friends and we were back in business. I did not come down the same way. I negotiated to our bedroom window, then to the canopy above our front door and from there it was a piece of cake.
I made my own shoe shine box and made a little money for treats and movies. if it sounds hard, it wasn't. It was fun, challenging and a bit profitable. At that particular time I attended Catholic school (about 2+ years) and I'm certain I was a challenge to the Nuns, who made me quite familiar with the yard stick and pointer. My wisdom was lacking in those days and I didn't know when to keep my mouth shut.
On to public grammar school and my 5th grade teacher, Mrs. Trimble. Magnificent. Don't recall my grades. Junior high, Vare, in South Philly - Mr.Siedel. 9th grade, also magnificent. I learned more from him than he will ever know. He failed me in 2 major subjects and rightfully so. I simply did not carry out the assignments. Actually he did not fail me, I failed him, my apologies, Sir.
Junior High - all I can say is, my sympathy and apologies to all the wonderful teachers that tolerated us.
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