#bloganuary: My Favorite Picture

Today’s prompt, from the maintenance department in Gulfport, Mississippi: What is your favorite photo you’ve ever taken?

I am, pardon my French, the sh*ttiest photographer on Earth, and have gotten even worse now that my right hand doesn’t work and everything on Earth is set up for right-handed people. So I don’t have a favorite photo that I’ve taken.

However, there are two meanings of "you’ve ever taken":

  • pictures where I’ve held the camera and pressed the shutter
  • pictures taken of me

I’m going with the latter.

L-R: Kip, Aunt Cash, me, Fabulous Auntie Jill, Jim

I have two older cousins from whom I got the majority of sportcoats when I was younger, because both of them had about 5,000 sportcoats in their wardrobes, for whatever reason. In one batch, I received a fedora, and liked it, so Mom decided to outfit Jim and Kip with fedoras as well. And of course, it being the ’60’s, we all had trench coats.

So here we are on Easter morning, circa 1965. It’s colder than a penguin’s backside, like it always was in Chicago on Easter, and we haven’t eaten since early that morning, because in those days you had to fast for three hours before Communion (can’t have Jesus fall into a belly full of Rice Krispies, after all), which meant that, by the time Mom and Dad got their rear ends out of bed barely in time for the 12:15 Mass at St. Ignatius (which was literally one block from home: we lived at 6459, church was at 6559), we hadn’t eaten in almost six hours and were in imminent danger of going into hypoglycemic shock. And Mom decides she wants pictures of us, dressed in our Easter best. So we’re all a little aggravated and want to get in and have breakfast.

I call this picture "The Three Franks," because this was around the time Ol’ Blue Eyes was in his fedora and trench coat phase. And, for the record, I seriously doubt we ever wore the hats again…

12 thoughts on “#bloganuary: My Favorite Picture

  1. What a wonderful photo of memories! I love the fedoras. My parents both wore hats, not casually like today, but because it was the proper thing to do. Both hubby and I like to wear hats and have lots of them.


    1. Mom wore hats (and white gloves) on Easter and when she knew she’d be outside for a while. Dad, on the other hand, was told to wear a fedora; the first time he saw himself in one, he said “I look like I’m on my way to the synagogue”….

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  2. You are funny with the rice krispies but mine would have been Count Chocula which may have been worse. I love how your aunts dressed to go out which is something we don’t see now. We are lucky that people don’t always step out in their pajamas! I wish hats and gloves would come back into fashion. I love hats and can find a place to buy them but gloves is another matter and i don’t mean gloves for snow.


    1. These were the days when women didn’t think of going to Mass without a veil or men without a suit and tie. Same used to be true of traveling: women in dresses or suits, nylons and heels, men in suits, ties and shined shoes, kids dressed like the adults.

      Count Chocula and Frankenberry weren’t introduced until 1971. We had Sugar Pops, Sugar Smacks, Sugar Frosted Flakes, Sugar Crisp, Cocoa Puffs, Cocoa Krispies…

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  3. “can’t have Jesus fall into a belly full of Rice Krispies, after all” — LOL! Talk about One-Liner Wednesday material!

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  4. LOL John. I love the fedora. Always have. And I can so relate to the fasting business but I never quite thought about it the way you described (“Jesus falling into a belly full of rice Krispies”). Actually, I think the changing of the rules of the church is one of the reasons I stopped going. I liked the old fashioned way of doing things and when it got to easy, it didn’t seem right.


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