Double Bubble/Double Trouble

Continuing on with posts about Mother’s Day week.  This time about bubblegum.  I still remember how sore my jaw muscles got from chewing big wads of bubblegum.

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Bubblegum was a childhood delight.  It had to be Fleer’s “Dubble Bubble” bubblegum.  Other brands were almost as good–“Bazooka” and gum with baseball cards.  Baseball card gum was thin and flat–somewhat brittle.

Inside the wrapper was a folded up cartoon strip, “Fleer’s Funnies,” featuring a chubby young chap “Pud” and friends.  There’s a moniker you won’t hear in the twenty-first century.  The stories were lame–meant to sell more bubblegum.  A quarter or fifty cents bought a sack full of candy in those days–which was a typical weekly allowance.

Experts could easily blow bubblers as big as their heads.  This was imitated by little brothers and sisters, who eventually got gum all over their faces.  Double Bubble tasted so good, that one piece wasn’t enough.  About four pieces made a fist-sized wad–enough to make jaw muscles ache.

Adults hated bubblegum–especially parents and teachers.  Gum smacking was almost as irritating as fingernails on a chalkboard.  Gum got disposed of under desks and chairs.  Gum got stepped on, ended up on the bottoms of dress shoes on the way to church or school.

“Don’t swallow that gum.  Where is it?”  Asked moms and dads.  “It’s too late–I already swallowed it,” Was the usual reply.  “Don’t do that.  You’ll clog up your insides and I’ll have to take you to the doctor,”  Mom warned.  I don’t know if it ever happened to anybody.

“Take your bubblegum out of your mouth before going to bed,”  Mom advised.  The next morning, gobs of gum were stuck everywhere in my hair.  Mom got the dullest pair of scissors she could find;  cut and pulled the gum globs out.

The worst part was next day at school.  “What happened to your hair?  Eww–do you have ringworm?  Who cut your hair?  …The Three Blind Mice?”  Hair grew back fast–it was off to new adventures.

DUBBLE BUBBLE/DOUBLE TROUBLE

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Bubblegum was a childhood delight.  It had to be Fleer’s “Dubble Bubble” bubblegum.  Other brands were almost as good–“Bazooka” and gum with baseball cards.  Baseball card gum was thin and flat–somewhat brittle.

Inside the wrapper was a folded up cartoon strip “Fleer’s Funnies” featuring a young chap “Pud” and friends.  There’s a moniker you won’t hear in the twenty-first century.  The stories were lame–meant to sell more bubblegum.  A quarter or fifty cents bought a sack full of candy in those days–which was a typical weekly allowance.

Experts could easily blow bubbles as big as their heads.  This was imitated by little brothers and sisters, who eventually got gum all over their faces.  Double Bubble tasted so good, that one piece wasn’t enough.  About four pieces made a fist-sized wad–enough to make jaw muscles ache.

Mothers and dads hated bubble gum.  It got disposed of in unhandy places and ended up on the bottom of dress shoes on the way to church or school.

“Don’t swallow that gum.  Where is it?”  “It’s too late–I already swallowed it,” was the usual answer.  “Don’t do that.  You’ll clog up your insides and I’ll have to take you to the doctor,” Mom warned.  I don’t know if it ever happened to anybody.

“Take your bubble gum out of your mouth before going to bed,”  Mom advised.  The next morning there were globs of gum stuck in my hair.  Mom got the dullest pair of scissors she could find; cut and pulled the gum out.

The worst part was at school.  “What happened to your hair?  Eww–do you have ringworm?”  “Who cut your hair?  …The Three Blind Mice?”  All was soon forgotten and it was off to new adventures.

–Image,http://www.theimaginaryworld.com/

SCRATCHING LIKE A CAT IN A LITTER BOX & OTHER FATHERISMS

Picky eaters and picky eating:  “Stop it–you’re scratching like a cat in a litter box.”

Body language and insincerity:  “He was blinking like a toad in a hailstorm–couldn’t get the lies out fast enough.”

King of the castle:  “Yes, I’m king of the castle.  I keep telling myself I’m having fun.  Don’t worry, there are plenty of things to bring me back to earth.  You kids and your mom–for example.”

Watching the “People’s Choice” and other award shows:  “I’m not watching that parade of buffoons and Botox babies.”

Acquired Tastes:  “Coffee, oysters, bleu cheese, Larry King, late-night TV, Mickey Rooney and Judy  Garland”

On body image:  “If you don’t like what you see in the mirror.  Stop looking at yourself so much.”

Oldies radio:  “Maybe I’m stuck in a rut, but I like it.  It’s the same hits you heard a few minutes ago all day long.”

Cheap imitations:  “They’re like hits by the “Soundalikes”–appealing, but not the real thing.  Like The Beatles and The Monkees, The Three Stooges and The Bowery Boys, Superman and Batman.”

Living in the past:  “It’s OK to think about it–because you are your past.  Why relive the past–that you’ll never get back again?”

Climbing the corporate ladder:  “Don’t worry about it.  Everybody’s not going to make it to the top.  It’s not a ladder at all–it’s a pyramid.  Most people are at the bottom holding it up.”

Friendship:  False friends like you because you’re popular.  False friends will hate you because you don’t have the right pedigree.  True friends like you for who you are.

Gas Wars:  “Why do they call them that?  It sounds like frat house pranks after all-night burrito buffets.  Or like your mom’s cabbage cooking.”

On being in debt:  “Don’t get into debt if you don’t have to.  If you do have debts–pay them off as soon as possible.  Once in debt–you’re always in debt.”

Taking the last cookie:  “Stop arguing with your brother about who gets the last cookie.  It doesn’t matter.  Sometimes toast is just toast.”

About time:  “There’s never a good time–to do things you don’t like to do.  Like going to a friend’s funeral.  There’s never enough time–period.  Take time to care about everything.   Even, doing homework and taking out the trash.”

Halloween fun houses:  “It’s only some grown men running around in their long underwear with chain saws.  Old Man Johnson, from across the street, mowing the yard in his underwear–that would be much scarier.”

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