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The Land that made me, me.........

Land that made me, me.........

 


Long ago and far away, in a land that time forgot, 
Before the days of Dylan, or the dawn of Camelot. 
There lived a race of innocents, and they were you and me, 



For Ike was in the White House in that land where we were born, 
Where navels were for oranges, and Peyton Place was porn. 

We learned to gut a muffler, we washed our hair at dawn, 
We spread our crinolines to dry in circles on the lawn. 

We longed for love and romance, and waited for our Prince, 
And Eddie Fisher married Liz, and no one's seen him since. 

We danced to 'Little Darlin,' and sang to 'Stagger Lee' 
And cried for Buddy Holly in the Land That Made Me, Me. 

Only girls wore earrings then, and 3 was one too many, 
And only boys wore flat-top cuts, except for Jean McKinney.. 

And only in our wildest dreams did we expect to see 
A boy named George with Lipstick, in the Land That Made Me, Me. 

We fell for Frankie Avalon, Annette was oh, so nice, 
And when they made a movie, they never made it twice. 

We didn't have a Star Trek Five, or Psycho Two and Three, 
Or Rocky-Rambo Twenty in the Land That Made Me, Me. 

Miss Kitty had a heart of gold, and Chester had a limp, 
And Reagan was a Democrat whose co-star was a chimp. 

We had a Mr. Wizard, but not a Mr. T, 
And Oprah couldn't talk yet, in the Land That Made Me, Me. 
We had our share of heroes, we never thought they'd go, 
At least not Bobby Darin, or Marilyn Monroe. 

For youth was still eternal, and life was yet to be, 
And Elvis was forever in the Land That Made Me, Me. 



We'd never seen the rock band that was Grateful to be Dead, 
And Airplanes weren't named Jefferson , and Zeppelins were not Led. 



And Beatles lived in gardens then, and Monkees lived in trees, 
Madonna was Mary in the Land That Made Me, Me. 



We'd never heard of microwaves, or telephones in cars, 
And babies might be bottle-fed, but they were not grown in jars.



And pumping iron got wrinkles out, and 'gay' meant fancy-free, 
And dorms were never co-Ed in the Land That Made Me, Me.



We hadn't seen enough of jets to talk about the lag, 
And microchips were what was left at the bottom of the bag.



And hardware was a box of nails, and bytes came from a flea, 
And rocket ships were fiction in the Land That Made Me, Me.



Buicks came with portholes, and side shows came with freaks, 
And bathing suits came big enough to cover both your cheeks. 



And Coke came just in bottles, and skirts below the knee, 
And Castro came to power near the Land That Made Me, Me. 

We had no Crest with Fluoride, we had no Hill Street Blues, 
We had no patterned pantyhose or Lipton herbal tea 
Or prime-time ads for those dysfunctions in the Land That Made Me, Me. 



There were no golden arches, no Perrier to chill, 
And fish were not called Wanda , and cats were not called Bill. 



And middle-aged was 35 and old was forty-three, 
And ancient were our parents in the Land That Made Me, Me. 



But all things have a season, or so we've heard them say, 
And now instead of Maybelline we swear by Retin-A. 
They send us invitations to join AARP, 
We've come a long way, baby, from the Land That Made Me, Me. 



So now we face a brave new world in slightly larger jeans, 
And wonder why they
are using smaller print in magazines. 
And we tell our children's children of the way it used to be, 
Long ago and far away in the Land That Made Me, Me.



AND NOW: For those of you too young to remember 
Bob Hope, ask your Grandparents!!! 
And thanks for the memories...


 

 

   
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Lost Fort Collins

http://lostfortcollins.com)">Lost Fort Collins


Hello Lost Fort Collins

Posted: 08 Feb 2010 01:36 PM PST

I know you have all been waiting, and it is finally here. As of today, I am officially taking over duties at Lost Fort Collins. I am quite humbled by this prospect, and very excited about it as well. Cat and I have been following each others blogs for a couple of years, but until today, we have never officially met. I am quite honored that Cat chose me to carry on her hard work, and her baby as she is fond of calling it.

Some of you know me already, but for those of you who don’t, I am Terence Hoaglund, a licensed Landscape Architect (among other things I do to put food on the table). I have been a resident of Fort Collins since 1985, save for a 3 year stint in the Denver Metro Area. Before that, I was born and raised in Grand Junction on the western slope of Colorado. My family has been in this state since before 1900, though I don’t officially know when we settled in the state. What I do know, is that my grandfather (on my dad’s side) was born on the family ranch, in what is know the ski resort of Snowmass. The family homestead is now known as the Anderson Cultural Arts center (long story). My grandmother (also my dad’s side) was born in Brush Creek, outside of Aspen. My mom’s side is from the St. Louis area, but they have been here since my mom was in grade school, and settled in Georgetown, and later in Denver.

My connection to Lost Fort Collins is that I have another blog, My Built Environment, where I write about The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly of the built environment, not just in Fort Collins, but wherever I happen to be. Of course, it isn’t always limited to that, sometimes I rant about other things. Anyway, that is were Cat and I first started following each others blogs.

I also throughly enjoy local history, always took history classes in school, and pretty much the only books I read have some connection to history, either through direct history, biographies, or something related. I am also on the Fort Collins Landmark Preservation Commission, and was just elected to chair in January of this year.

So what am I going to do with Lost Fort Collins? Not much. I offered to take it over, because I like what Cat had done with it, the stories it told, and more. I will keep it separate from my other blog(s), but there will be some cross-posting. I also want to keep the focus of this blog pretty much as it has been. What I do want to do though, is have the occasional guest author.  It will take a short bit for me to get some of the administrative portions, emails, and links etc. on this site to point to me rather than Cat, but once that is done, we are off to the races!

I only hope that I can do as good of a job as Cat has done.

Stories I always meant to write. 3. Cannon at City Park

Posted: 08 Feb 2010 10:42 AM PST

You know, Fort Collins didn’t just plop a cannon in the middle of the playground at City Park. It was the other way around. The playground was west of there, and migrated to the cannon.

In a way, it didn’t matter because kids in the 1950s climbed all over the cannon and considered it an extension of the playground, Norm says.

In another way, it mattered very much because over the years many residents thought it inappropriate to keep the artillery where the children play.

Norm with cannon at playground

The story of how the cannon came to City Park, and how hawks and doves resolved their differences, is interesting. But it’s too long for me to tell now.

But that’s not the most interesting thing about the cannon to me anyway. I think the most interesting thing is the kids’ initials carved in the hard rubber wheels. Norm says he remembers kids carving those glyphs going back to when he was a kid in the 1940s.

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The train ride (joke) Sitting together on a train was Obama, George W. Bush, a little old lady....

Sitting together on a train was Obama, George W. Bush, a little old lady, and a young blonde girl with large breasts.

The train goes into a dark tunnel and a few seconds later there is the sound of a loud slap.

When the train emerges from the tunnel, Obama has a bright red hand-print on his cheek.

No one speaks.

The old lady thinks:
Obama must have groped the blonde in the dark, and she slapped him.

The blonde girl thinks:
Obama must have tried to grope me in the dark, but missed and fondled the old lady and she slapped him.

Obama thinks:
Bush must have groped the blonde in the dark. She tried to slap him but missed and got me instead.

George Bush thinks:
I can't wait for another tunnel, so I can smack Obama again.

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House fires -- please read !!!!!

Please pass this one along to your family and friends.


This photo was taken at the scene of a house fire that occurred recently.

House fires - please read !!!!!

Received from a friend who is in the insurance property business. It is well worth reading.

This is one of those e-mails that if you don't send it, rest assured someone on your list will suffer for not reading it. The original message was written by a lady whose brother and wife learned a hard lesson recently.

Their house burnt down.. nothing left but ashes. They have good insurance so the house will be replaced and most of the contents. That is the good news.

However, they were sick when they found out the cause of the fire. The insurance investigator sifted through the ashes for several hours. He had the cause of the fire traced to the master bathroom. He asked her sister-in-law what she had plugged in the bathroom. She listed the normal things...curling iron, blow dryer.
He kept saying to her, 'No, this would be something that would disintegrate at high temperatures'. Then her sister-in-law remembered she had a Glade Plug-In, in the bathroom.

The investigator had one of those 'Aha' moments. He said that was the cause of the fire. He said he has seen more house fires started with the plug-in type room fresheners than anything else. He said the plastic they are made from is THIN. He also said that in every case there was nothing left to prove that it even existed. When the investigator looked in the wall plug, the two prongs left from the plug-in were still in there.

Her sister-in-law had one of the plug-ins that had a small night light built in it. She said she had noticed that the light would dim and then finally go out. She would walk in to the bathroom a few hours later, and the light would be back on again. The investigator said that the unit was getting too hot, and would dim and go out rather than just blow the light bulb. Once it cooled down it would come back on..... That is a warning sign

The investigator said he personally wouldn't have any type of plug in fragrance device anywhere in his house. He has seen too many places that have been burned down due to them.

PLEASE PASS THIS ON TO ALL THE PEOPLE IN YOUR ADDRESS BOOK.

NOT ONLY COULD IT SAVE SOMEONE'S HOUSE, BUT IT COULD SAVE SOMEONE'S LIFE

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Lost Fort Collins

http://lostfortcollins.com)">Lost Fort Collins


Stories I always meant to write: 2. Heroines of local preservation

Posted: 05 Feb 2010 06:27 PM PST

When the National Trust announced earlier this week that Fort Collins had landed on its list of Distinctive Destinations, I had some regrets.

That’s because I always  meant to write a series of posts about the group of women who made this town worthy of the National Trust. Women who I have always wished I could be more like. Women with vision, courage, and persistence.

This was no ladies social club for dressing up and having Victorian tea parties. They didn’t play status games based on whose pioneer ancestry made them most authentic. These were women who fought like hell and struck fear in the heart of any politician that got in the way. At least that’s how I always imagined them.

Each Heroine deserves her own post, including a photo and a list of accomplishments. But that would take more research than I have time for now. So here’s the short list:

§ Carol Tunner. She worked for the city’s preservation department for ages, fought the good fight, and sometimes won.

§ Rheba Massey. She was the library’s local history archivist and her expertise served every historic organization in town.  She helped me write my first local history (the history of my house) and showed me how to get involved in preservation in a way that could make a difference.

§ Mary Humstone. I always associate Mary with Historic Fort Collins Development Corporation, a group that helped preserve Preston Farm, Linden Hotel, Hoffman House, Northern Hotel.  She also worked for the National Trust and now teaches preservation in Wyoming.

§ Rose Brinks. She preserved the Bingham Hill Cemetery and opened it to the public. She’s been generous with many of her historic resources. Stories about Rose are legend.  Ask around.

Karen McWilliams probably belongs on this list too, but I never got to meet her. And an earlier group of women, like Charlene Tresner and June Bennett, might belong here too.

If only I had a little more time….

Nonetheless, without these awe-inspiring women living in our town, I think the National Trust would have looked right past Fort Collins. Without them, our town would be so much less than it is today.

Hoffman house, from history.fc.gov

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: Bud light- Clothing drive

http://link.brightcove.com/services/player/bcpid1125919467?bctid=63259762001

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Harley Motorcycles - Adding That Special Touch

Harley - Adding That Special Touch

Forget Limousines.


 

Forget Horse & Buggy.


 

"The Bridal Carriage" is the only grand entrance you will ever need.


 

A unique, special and luxurious way to travel on the most magical day of your life!


 

 

Tombstone Hearse and Trike Company


 

420 E Pitt Street

Bedford, PA

15522

While Tombstone Hearse Company initially conceived the units as an alternative transportation vehicle that would cater to the families and loved ones of the over 11 million motorcycle enthusiasts, we are excited to find that funeral directors state that a large percentage of clients using the motorcycle hearse have never even ridden a motorcycle.

Expanding on this base, Tombstone Hearse Co. has become a prime choice for many Military and Police funerals and surprisingly even grandmothers due to the dignity and honor the hearses provide.

From our conception we at the Tombstone Hearse Company have prided ourselves on the quality and features of our coaches. From our first prototype to the era of the Series III coach we have ensured the reliability, safety, and style of our coaches are of the highest standards second to none.

With the Series III Coach, we have surpassed our previously set standards. Now with a uniform black and chrome style the coach flows as one cohesive unit bringing out the quality accents that only Tombstone Hearse Co. can provide. From the laminated deck floor with cut mohair trim to the crushed velour curtains that line the decoratively etched safety glass windows, the Series III is not only a coach, it's a show unit truly worthy of the great men and women who have traveled to their final destination within.

At Tombstone Hearse, we admit our units may be more expensive than the others, but you are paying for both the hearse and the trike as a unit of high quality craftsmanship, but most importantly a safe, reliable, dignifying product.

It is the most recognized vehicle in the death care industry, making the Tombstone Hearse a great marketing tool which will stand the test of time.

 

                                               
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A game for our time

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More Wal-Martians (all new!)

PLEASE SHOOT ME IF I EVER GET TO THIS POINT.  PLEASE.

 

 

This proves they are just all over the place and to think these people have the right to have kids and vote! 
 
Wal-Martians
Have a Heart!!!
 


Either that lady has a tail, or Barney is stuck somewhere he may not want to be.
Wyoming

 

 


Do you have any idea how tiring it can be putting on purple sweatpants like this? I’m going to take a nap right now just from thinking about it.
North Carolina

 

 


For my own sanity, I have to assume that she is shoplifting pork roasts in her shirt. Simply because there is no possible way those are what you think they are. They can’t be, I refuse to believe it. Don’t try to reason with me.
Arkansas

 

 


I guarantee that nobody in the country HAS ever, CAN ever, or WILL ever rock out as hard as these two in Walmart. End of story.
Arkansas
 
 

You ever wonder what would happen if you microwave one of those tubes of Pillsbury rolls?
Unknown
 

Good call on the Bud Light, your skull friend looks a little thirsty. I would recommend something non-alcoholic because it was probably too many Bud Lights that resulted in the skull tat in the first place.
Louisiana
 
 

Just because my reflection is in those pants, doesn’t mean I can see myself in them.
Georgia
 
 

Not quite sure what all is going on here, but I can tell you this, none of its good.
California
 
 

I see you got this whole cross-dressing Shrek thing going for you. Not sure it’s the best look to go with, but that’s your call.
Texas
 
 

See if you can spot who in this picture is slowly being scarred for life.
Maryland
 
 

I like talking to her because she always seems so surprised and interested in what I’m saying. That, and because she kind of looks like the old lady in Adam Sandler’s Eight Crazy Nights.
Idaho
 
 

Now go on! Get up there and get me my damn Fanta!
Georgia
 
 

Great, now where is the official Megan’s Law inspector?
Ohio
 
 

WAKE UP! WAKE UP! This is one dream I definitely don’t want to be in.
Texas
 
 

You know there are easier and less painful ways to let everyone know you weren’t asked to Prom when you were younger.
Texas

I’m just going to go ahead and say it. Everyone knows it’s taboo to wear your horse tail and flame boots after Labor Day! There, I said it, it’s out on the table now!
Unknown
 
 

Well if the Cowboys want to call themselves “ America ’s Team”, they need to have a true American cheerleader. I think we have found her.
Arizona
 
 

No need to wrap up that bologna, I’ll just put it in my trash bag shirt.
Ohio
 
 

Well, only one tail on those jean booty shorts would have looked ridiculous.
Missouri
 
 

You think anybody wants a roundhouse kick to the face while I’m wearing these bad boys?
New York

Oh, it’s so violent and angry!! It looks like everything is trying to get as far away from the top of his head as possible.
Texas
 
 

Oh, wow! Do you call the cops or invite him over for some beers so you can listen to the craziest stories ever told…….in perfect jibberish?
Unknown
 
 

The sand moves really quickly through this “hourglass”.
Texas
 
 

From what I can tell, you like playing soccer while lifting weights and fishing?
California
 
 

What you don’t know is that water bottle is actually filled with baby oil. You may start taking numbers on who gets to apply it.
Florida
 
 

“Excuse me miss, what type of meat is that?” – Sir, that’s your meat reflecting off the glass case.
Florida
 
 

Hey, thanks for not even trying.
Unknown

     
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More_Wal-Martians_all_new.zip (170 KB)

     
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0More_Wal-Martians_all_new.zip (190 KB)

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The New iPad

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