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cinematic-phosphenes · 2 months

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Pauline in the Yellow Dress | 1944 Herbert James Gunn

#herbert james gunn #portrait #women in art #art #painting #yellow dress #the forties #1940s #20th century art #dogs #realism #realist art #forties fashion #💮💮

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undergroundrockpress · 1 year

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Malody Maker / 50 years of Music (1976)

Part 3 : The Forties

#vintage music magazine #melody maker #50 years of music #the forties #Part 3

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5starcinema · 2 years

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Battleground (1949) Directed by William Wellman

"You had a good home when you left; you're right!"

That's the march cadence for this squad of the 101st Airborne Division, on their way to Europe, where they will run head on with a counter offensive by the Germans and one of the worst winters on record. The squad won't be singing for some time. Ill equipped for winter weather, nearly out of ammunition and food, and trapped in the snowy, impenetrable woods of the Ardenne forest, these "citizen soldiers" (as historian Stephen Ambrose has called them) faced all the misery and deprivation that characterized the Battle of the Bulge. Director "Wild Bill" Wellman (a WWI veteran, stunt flyer, and Hollywood helraiser par excellence) therefore makes certain that we don't get much to celebrate in this downbeat gem.

The characters are the likable G.I.s found in so many war pictures, but this group isn't having any fun. Wellman also makes it clear that most G.I.s, courageous and patriotic as they may be, had just as soon not slog around Europe on an extended camping trip. But apart from the standard bitching—an art form for most soldiers—there is the very real fear of freezing to death, encountering surprise enemy fire in the blinding snow and fog, or simply getting separated from the outfit and never being seen again. There's even the vague suspicion that the German counter offensive is pushing back the allied armies. The camera captures all these worries in numerous closeups of faces. Soldiers can’t hide it.

In the besieged city of Bastogne, the possibility of stemming the onslaught is weighed against remaining ammunition; in the forests, combat takes place in 11-foot banks of snow or among mazes of heavy evergreen branches. Fighting sheer exhaustion is each soldier's key battle; a mere glimpse of sunlight might constitute a moral victory.

Although actors John Hodiak, Van Heflin, Ricardo Montalban, and a crew of character players do a remarkable job of making it feel authentic, conveying the misery most effectively is James Whitmore as the unforgettable Sergeant Kinnie. He's a bow-legged, cigar-chomping, grizzled old vet who by God finds the means—and the spirit—to bull his way through all conceivable obstacles. When he notices his shadow in the snow, he almost cries at the revelation. Now supplies can be flown into the combat zone. It's a typical G.I.’s holiday; the possibility of K-rations, new rounds for his M-1, and a blanket. Only a vet like Wellman himself might understand why this little moment is the film's climax.

#world war two #the forties #motion pictures

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retrofair · 2 years

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1949 House Of Swansdown

via Retrofair Vintage Ads & Prints

#1949 #Swansdown #vintage fashion ads #retro style #coat #the forties

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ahopefulsoul · 2 years

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Fabulous Forties (1940).

Find love in time of wars 📺🪖💌

4/12

#aesthetic #classic #1940 #the forties #fabulous forties #war #peace #love #guns #red #wait #letter #miss #military #dance #end #past #europe #decade #40’s #jazz #lovers #celebration

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zanephillips · 2 months

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El baile de los 41 (2020) dir. David Pablos

#alfonso herrera #emiliano zurita #el baile de los 41 #dance of the forty one #filmedit #lgbtedit #gayedit #film #men #menedit #usermichi #userwilliam #userdckingston #gifs #mine #*

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calamity-bean · 1 year

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Any recipe that involves a bunch of vegetable chopping yet promises a mere "10 minutes" of prep...... who the fuck do you think I am, man. You think I'm a chef? You think I'm a professional chef with lightning knife skills and impeccable mise en place? These veggies and I are in it for the long haul, my man, we're gonna be spending at LEAST half an hour struggling along together before they're ready to go in the pan

#dedicated to the forty-five minutes i just spent trimming green beans <3 #op #1k #5k #10k #15k #20k #30k

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indietapes · 1 year

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The Forties - Real Sucker (Indie Rock)

🕑 1 min / Text: Franklin B. Release Date: Feb. 25, 2023 The Forties recently unveiled a new release called 'Real Sucker', a relaxing indie rock tune with bedroom pop and lo-fi influences. It's a meaningful song about the understanding of one's self, and all I know is that I'm absolutely loving the jangly guitars adding a smooth texture to the music. 'Real Sucker' also features laid-back melodies and a fantastic solo with a surfy and fuzzy drive in the second part. I think what I like most about these guys is that their whole sound and vibe are DIY and definitely anything but mainstream. Give it a listen and check out The Forties' music on Spotify: Melody: ★★★★★ | Production: ★★★★☆ | Arrangement: ★★★☆☆ | Energy: ★★★★★ | Stream: https://open.spotify.com/track/48ofnct9zN639kl4GCoR8W Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/theforties_arehere/ ✔️ Available on our Indie Playlist on Spotify.

#Indie Rock #The Forties

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spottedgardeneelstan · 3 months

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you’ll hear me howling outside your door

#svsss #bingqiu #shen qingqiu #luo binghe #long post #FINALLY DONE.#SIX MONTHS. FORTY ONE HOURS. ALL FOR A HOZIER LYRIC COMIC.#setting that aside #i somehow don’t have much to say about this.#binghe little snarling beast trying to be good and stealing your shoes #and pulling his hair out and eating your food and sleeping at the foot of your bed because at least he’s on it

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pumpkincalico · 9 months

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His love language is emotional manipulation

#He's forty years old he's unhinged he's baby girl #Anders dragon age Ilyyy #Dragon age #Anders #Dragon age anders #Dragon age 2 #dragon age ii #my art #digital art #calicoart #daocart #Da anders #Dragon age FANART #Original art #Dragon age justice #Da2 #DA2 anders #Drawing #artistoftumblr

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laskinpublishing · 1 year

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SCROLL DOWN ▼for Laskin Publishing's Books & Artwork

Now: Don Laskin’s Uncalled for Commentary on Just About Anything That's Often None of His Business

Even More Tales of The Pine Center

Back in the Forties through the Fifties, in the foothills of the Catskills in Upstate New York, my family owned The Pine Center, a small hotel in what the city people called “The Mountains”. These are their stories.

The Soda Magnate

I was cute. I mean REALLY cute. Well, at least that was the consensus among female hotel guests who couldn’t help pinching my cheeks till they were rosy red…and swelling to the size of watermelons. I exaggerate...cantaloupes.

Worst of all were the two-fisted pinchers. They’d take a cheek in each hand, twist my little head so I’d be looking up at them and squeeze thumb to forefinger on each cheek exclaiming in roughly transliterated Yiddish,” Zaya-a-shane-a.. Zaya-a-kloogeh”, which my limited anglicized understanding translated to “handsome; and so smart.” Still holding fast, they’d add in English, “Ooh, I could just eat him up.” Fearing there was that possibility, the instant I felt their fingers loosen I was gone.

As it happens, I was exotic as well as cute. These people had never seen a real live country boy with an accent as foreign to them as their Bronxite and Brooklynese was to me. Example:

“You a native?” the kid asked me.

“Uh-huh”

“I’m from Nuh Bronx.”

“New Bronx?” I asked for clarification.

“T-H-E”, he spelled out, adding, ‘”Bronx,” then put it all together, “Nuh Bronx.”

I can’t remember if I’d learned to spell yet, but I got the gist. Eventually, however, we natives and the invaders from New York were able to converse. And once a trading language was established, I began my first tentative steps in the business world selling soda at dinner time and ice cream in the afternoons.

Now our guests literally feasted from morning till night. After a breakfast of orange juice, eggs, bagels, herring, toast, French toast, pancakes, and more, there was a slightly lighter lunch a few hours later to tide them over till a dinner that started with fruit cocktail, cantaloupe or honey dew, followed by chicken fricassee or chopped chicken liver. Then came barley, corn or possibly chicken noodle soup. A main dish of roast beef, pot roast, roast chicken or steak came with a number of sides. Topping things off would be dessert like my Mom’s lemon meringue pie and cookies filled with raisins, cherries and nuts.

The price of the food was included in the accommodations. So no one could really complain about a kid charging a paltry ten cents for a bottle of soda. Also, did I mention that everybody thought I was really cute?

Of course soda wasn’t the only available beverage. We didn’t have a liquor license, so no beer or hard liquor. However, there was hard water. Pumped fresh from our well, the minerals dissolved in it made for lousy lathers, but a unique flavor people raised on city water couldn’t get enough of.

While ice cold well water may have cut into my profits, I made out pretty well — well enough to keep me in bubble gum baseball cards and every issue of Classic Illustrated I could lay my hands on. These comic books were adaptations of literary classics such as Les Misérables, Moby-Dick and Hamlet and proved an invaluable time and energy saver in my later academic career. But, I digress — As I said, I was making out pretty well, so well in fact though I can’t say I remember it happening, it became family lore. It seems that when my pockets got so heavy with change that my dungarees sagged (no jeans in those days) threatening to go down and take my shorts with them, I purportedly told people I had enough money and they didn’t have to pay. Since I am admittedly a rotten businessman, there could be some truth lurking in the retelling.

HOWEVER, the following incidents I remember well. Now, diet soda was a fairly new thing back then, so new that our soda distributor didn’t carry any. At dinner when I went around taking orders, a thin lady with thin lips, a thin face and thin aquiline nose asked me for diet soda. Informing her I didn’t have any, she told me about a store where I could buy it for her.

Everybody in a service business knows the customer’s always right. Naturally however, this doesn’t apply to a kid on summer vacation whose priorities run to swimming, playing hide and seek, climbing apple trees to get to the fruit, building a club house in the woods, reading comic books, collecting bottle caps, catching Monarch butterflies, etc..

The next day when the thin lady with thin lips, thin face and thin aquiline nose again asked about the diet soda, I replied, “I don’t have it,” adding under my breath, “but you sure could use it.” Yes I know. She was already thin. But I was a kid without a fully developed sarcastic vocabulary.

“What did you say?” she called after me as I made my escape pretending not to hear. “Little boy! Oh little boy! Come here little boy!” Somehow I managed to avoid the thin lady with thin lips, thin face and thin aquiline nose for the rest of her stay.

That story reminds of this one. My father had turned off the water to one of our bungalows to repair a pipe. When he was done, he asked me to run over and make sure the water was on again. Now the top of the door had four panes of clear glass at my eye level. When I knocked, a stark naked lady came to the door. Caesar said, “Veni. Vidi. Vici.” (“I came. I saw. I conquered.”) Donny said, “Veni. Vidi. Cucurri.”(I came. I saw. I ran.”)

Okay, I never said it, but I sure did it. Bolting off the bungalow’s tiny porch I headed out full speed as the lady called after me, “Little boy…little boy…come back, little boy.” No, it was not the same lady as in the diet soda affair. As a matter of fact I distinctly remember this lady as being pleasingly Rubenesque. What she was thinking I couldn’t guess.

Oh, the water was on.

A PERSONAL NOTE:

If you followed my posts (and surprisingly some of you do), you know I tried to get one out every week or so. This is my first one since the end of August when I had a spinal stenosis flare up (translation: damned nasty back ache). I was allergic to the drug I was prescribed causing more problems including a couple of weeks of withdrawal and was likely a contributing factor to a fall that damned near broke my kneecap.

Dorothy Parker said, “I hate writing, but love having written.” Writing is a painful process. Add a dose of physical pain and…well that’s what’s taken so long.

Best,

Don

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