She’s Good With Tools

Collections can be
a wonderful thing…

Even when
they run you
out of house
and garage
for storage space.

It’s one of those
weird manias
that never really
goes away —

— in the back
of your head,
you’ve always
got that
collectible that
might just
complete things,

and make you
feel like you’re
all done
searchin’
and collectin’ –

but
naaaaaaaaaaaa
aaaaaaaaah —

— it’ll never happen.

I saw a nice card in
this set the other day –

and knowing I had
several of them already-

I spent the rest
of the semi-annual
card and stamp show
looking for the ones
I still didn’t have.

As luck
would have it-

no,

I didn’t find them.

Although some very
nice pin-up style
Mutoscope cards
also made my
acquaintance…..

So,
anyhoo:

I filled in today’s set
with ones from online.

That inter-webs thing
can really be magic
(occasionally) .

The set dates
from the
very early 1900’s –
(1910)

— when female carpenters
were about as rare as
talking ducks without
speech impediments.

I dunno–
you just might want
to give that one
a minute.

Yep…
Another sixty seconds
you’ll never get back.

Ahem.

As I was sayin –

They show various
trades-hotties getting
busy with their tools.

I love a little glimpse
of stocking when I’m
in the workshop,

— who doesn’t?

And where would we be-
-I ask you –
without the cute-sie pie
flirtatious captions
to go with them ?

I love a good pun,
anyway.

They’re pure vintage,
pure harmless fun
from another age.

Despite having the
fore-knowledge that
I’m going to get raving
emails about how
women plumbers,
mechanics, tanners,
tailors, coopers, and
machinists are getting a
raw deal by being portrayed
in such a ham-handed
sexist, misogynist
manner –

— even if the cards are
over a hundred years old.

To which,
I will give the
fore-answer as :

Bullshit.

Now, it’s a big set,
and,
since it’s Christmas,
I didn’t want to be a
Grinch about it and
cut them into two or
three posts, cause I
especially hate that
when people do
that with gifts.

Consequently,
the jibber-jabber
that usually represents
the ‘blog’ part of the
picture-blog concept
is a bit more jibbery
and jabbery on today’s
post than is standard,
and the reader may
well take comfort in the
fact that the writer’s
fucking hand is about
to fall off from all this
spurious word typing,
I can tell you.

Some day I’m really
going to have to learn
to type with more than
one finger, man.

Let me assure you
that,
just as soon —

I mean
at the very moment,
that each and every
one of these
wonderful pics
are safely ensconced
in the required
accompanying
puerile blurbage
that qualifies it as a
proper Muscleheaded
blog post,

you will be the first to
be spared any further
mindless tomfoolery.

Because
we take our
responsibi..

! HOY !
.

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Pin Ups and A Little Girls’ Memories

viHi Y’all.

This morning, my old
( and when I say old,
I mean ‘long-time’,
not ‘old’ like Driving
Miss Daisy, ya know….. )
friend Carolyn was
nice enough to send
me a previously unpublished
piece that she wrote
about her childhood memories
of her mechanic father —

— and the vintage calendar
pin-ups that he had apetty
hanging in his garage.

And, I thought it
would be perfect
for sharing with
all our friends
here on the
Muscleheaded Blog.

It brought more than
one sentimental tear
to this old man’s eye,
I can tell you.
And when I say ‘old’billmedcalf
in this case, well,
you know….

Anyhoo…
Here it is,
with a huge mucho gracias
to her for it:

::=====::

When I was a little girl,
I loved helping my dad 
work on cars in the driveway.

He taught me about
changing the oil,
replacing the wiper blades, a1
checking the battery,
checking the tires.

I really loved going to
the garage with him.I loved the smell of 
the gas and the oil,
all of the different tools, 

all of the different vehicles.

The mechanics
laughing
and talking,

while repairinggeorgepetty
and maintaining.

But, my very favorite
part was sitting
on the bench
in the office,
drinking rootbeer
from a bottle,

keeping company with
The Pin Up Girls.

I gave them names. harryekman
I told their stories.

.

Meri was December:
red velvet skirt,

crisp white blouse,
long bare legs,
big smile,
mistletoe sprouting from
her brunette pony-tail,
riding on the back of Santa’s bike,
helping him deliver all the presents
before the sun rose and
Mrs. Claus wondered why rake

he was so late coming home.

.

Julie was July:
bare feet, curly blonde hair,

short blue shorts,
barely-there striped yellow top,
more than a hint of cleavage,
stretched out in the
green grass relaxing,
remembering the cool
of spring, but not fazed,
in the least,
by the summer heat.april

.

Wendy was March:
walking her dog on

a busy city street,
on a blustery day,
not a care in the world,
dress billowing around her hips
revealing her stocking-covered legs
and black satin garter belt,
her grin revealing that she liked
putting on a show for the world.

.

Autumn was October: zenochbolles
surrounded by pumpkins,
hay stalks, and black cats,
silhouetted by the golden
harvest moon, her red hair
shinier than the stars,
her witch costume like
none I’d ever seen before,
she was a good witch,
not a mean one…
okay, well, maybe good,
with a little naughty thrown in.

.

Every year,
twelve different girls,
twelve different stories.goergepetty

Staring at the calendar,
dreaming of the day
I would have the looks
of a Pin Up Girl,
the attitude of a Pin Up Girl,
AND be the owner of the garage.

.

©CarolynS.WhenIWas
ALittleGirl.5.20.2003.

:: =============== ::

VIVE Les Pin Ups —
and my friend C !!!!!!!!

!!!! HOY !!!!!!!!

.

mec