Salmon and peanuts

This week G. George Ostrom picked out a column from August, 1969.

July 24th was my 40th birthday and I’d have forgotten that if Iris and kids hadn’t told me about it. I only got two presents on my birthday, kippered salmon and a large sack of peanuts. Clark and Wendy got me the fish and Shannon and Heidi presented the peanuts (kids know what their dads like).

There’s a reason why I never get much for my birthday, or Father’s Day or Christmas. I have a kind of selfosh habit. Whenever I need something, I go buy it (notice I said need, not want). By getting interested in golf on June 10th, I set off an immediate flurry of buying by those who know me. Iris rushed around an got me some clubs, my in-laws got me a bag, etcetera. There went my birthday.

If I take a fancy to scuba diving this month, I figure it’ll shoot down Christmas, next Father’s Day and my next three wedding anniversaries.

The night after my birthday, I went down to Jack’s Tavern and had a few beers. I did it to reminisce about the first time I ever ordered a beer in Jack’s Tavern...

“Gimme a bottle of beer.”

“You old enough to drink?”

“I just got home from Germany three days ago and I’m old enough to handle any of the watered down booze in this place.”

“You look pretty young.”

“That’s the penalty I must pay for leading a clean life.”

“Howcum you aren’t wearing your uniform?”

“I’ve put in my three years and besides, basic brown only goes well with a .30 caliber machine gun.”

“You 21?”

“Hell no! I enlisted out of kindygarten and I’m now going on eight, now gimme a beer.”

“I’d like to serve you, but we could lose our license if you are not 21. Since your dad became the state liquor inspector, he’s really cracking down on serving minors.”

“Whatta ya mean, since my dad become Liquor Inspector? My dad runs a poetry readin’ cellar in Anaheim, California.”

“Well, my mother-in-law wears tennis shoes and chases rabbits, but I ain’t serving you a beer until you’re 21 years old.”

“Would it help if I grew a mustache?”

“Yeah! If you grow it in the next 10 minutes.”

I left quietly.

And that’s the way it was at Jack’s friendly tavern back in the days before their current bartender went to Vietnam...back when Eddie Powell was only 3 or 4 years old and George Haddow had lots of hair.