Apr. 28: Photo finds

I’m cleaning out my attic and found a huge box of photos today. Most of them are of me and Kathy when we were little and I’d like to say that our mom, along with most mothers of that era, should have been arrested for our haircuts and clothing. If we ever turn on you suddenly, Mom, you’ll know that the memories came flooding back and it was just too much even for all the Xanax in the world to cure.

While I’d love to publish a lot of the photos I found, I shan’t. But these two, well, I just couldn’t resist.

The first one is from 1977 or so—Kathy can correct me on that—when she took a modeling class and learned to do the robot. Mostly the “modeling” required staying in character (as a mannequin) while fending off fondling old men whose wives were shopping in the double-knit polyester department. ♪♫ “Everyone knows it’s Wendy...” ♫♪


This other picture holds oh-so-many answers to life as a Saltmarsh. It was taken at my grandparents’ house in 1971. They hosted Christmas Eve every year for their five children and families, and with the number of kids, cigarettes and alcohol involved it was a fire code violation many times over. And yet, I think most of us have wonderfully happy memories of each year’s gathering. What I love about this particular photo is my grandpa’s proud display of his giant beer. It’s probably the only way he made it through the evening.


Ah, good times... good times.