Alligator in the Closet
#166: Then & Now, Art, Ta-Nehisi Paul Coates w/Trevor Noah and Christiana, Edgar Calel, Margaret Killjoy, Bitter Melon Bindery; Soundings by Andrew Dack, Ezio Bosso, and Josh Turner w/Rock E Bassoon
THEN & NOW
Letters from 1948, an Alligator, and a Typewriting “Gadget”:
I found cancelled airmail stamps in an envelope containing Dad’s letter to Mom dated August 2, 1948. As a child, I went through a stamp-collecting (philately) period, and I’m wondering if this was part of my stamp collection stuffed into the envelope. I wince when I realize that some of the envelope corners (w/cancelled stamps) are “missing.” Well, here they are!
The year 1948 was important for my parents because they were both working on certifying Mom’s immigration papers, and Dad was working towards becoming a citizen of the United States. In the letters from that period, which I am still going through, they both often speak of their worry and excitement about the immigration process.
Two new things that I learned recently from opening and reading the many letters from 1948:
Dad’s flat at 1351 Stockton St., San Francisco, was in a hotel called the San Marcos.
When Mom’s family lived on the corner of New York Ave. and Annapolis St. in Cubao, Quezon City (Philippines), they were near the City Hall Building. For relaxation, after the war, they would frequent the skating rink, or ride in a banca in a nearby lagoon.1 For some reason, a skating rink (whether for roller skates or ice skates) is the last thing this Filipino American writer would expect to see in Manila, especially right after the war.
During this period, one letter from Dad to Mom lightened up the tone, and also reminded me of his globetrotting experiences. His letters were almost always handwritten in ink using a fountain pen. But on July 29, 1948 his letter was typewritten in all caps! (which is why his quoted words in the following paragraphs are all capitalized).
Dad’s ship, the U.S.A.T. Comfort, had picked up 250 Army passengers bound for San Juan, Puerto Rico. By then, Dad mentioned in the letter, he had become the “HEAD OF THE DEPARTMENT” which may have meant that he was Chief Steward. He was happy that the crew—though disappointed—were not allowed to disembark in San Juan, because “IT SAVED US LOTS OF HEADACHE,” since crew members tended to return to the ship drunk or late for their work shifts.
When the ship docked at Panama City, Dad was able to go into town briefly, where he purchased for Mom an alligator handbag. Mind you, the handbag wasn’t just made of alligator skin; there was an entire stuffed baby alligator attached to the front of the handbag. I remember this curious and somewhat disturbing handbag from my childhood days, mostly because of that alligator. I don’t remember Mom actually using the handbag when we lived in Santa Cruz. It languished away in a bedroom closet.
As he was writing the letter, however, the ship was in the English Channel:
NO CHANCE FOR ME TO DESCRIBE TO YOU THE BEAUTY OF THE COASTLINE OF THE BRITISH ISLE BECAUSE I CANNOT SEE ANYTHING WITHIN 50 YARDS DISTANCE. SO YOU CAN JUST IMAGINE OUR PREDICAMENT AT THIS MOMENT. BESIDES IT’S NOW GETTING DARK AS I SEE THROUGH THE PORTHOLE. LOTS OF GERMAN AND BRITISH MINES ARE STILL IN THE LOSS [sic] AND THE DANGER OF COLLISION WITH INCOMING SHIPS IS VERY GREAT SINCE THE CHANNEL IS A BUSY SHIPS LANE. OUR MEANS OF DETECTION FOR [DANGER AND DIRECTION] IS OUR SHIP’S RADAR. THE REST DEPENDS ON OUR CAPTAIN’S SKILL AND THE GRACE OF GOD.
He noted that they would soon pick up a German pilot who would guide the ship to the Port of Bremen, their final destination. It was a large city, but he observed that “THERE [WAS] NOT MUCH LEFT TO SEE FOR IT WAS HEAVILY BOMBED BY THE AMERICAN AND THE BRITISH PLANES DURING THE WAR.” Unfortunately for the ship’s crew, they would pick up 450 passengers at that port. “THIS MEANS THAT WE ARE GOING TO WORK VERY HARD. BUT THIS TIME IT WILL TAKE TEN DAYS OF SEA TIMES TO GET US TO NEW YORK.”
The last full paragraph of the letter detailed my dad’s amused though fumbling attempts to use a typewriter. Earlier in the letter he noted: “DON’T YOU THINK IT IS SOMEWHAT FUNNY TO FIND THIS LETTER ALL IN CAPITAL LETTERS? WELL, OF ALL THINGS THIS IS THE ONLY TYPEWRITER I COULD FIND WHICH [WAS] NOT BEING USED.”
I’ll let you read the rest:
Time to Vote:
I don’t know about you, but all the politicking and bad-mouthing for the elections is wearing me down. I have blocked all sides of the political spectrum from my phone and my email. But the ads and diatribes still pop up on social media and certainly on Substack.
I’ve got my election packet right here on the table beside me. I will send that baby in first thing this Monday.
ART
I’m making mail (or correspondence) art. I find that it brings out the trickster and the snark in me, different sides of my personality that have been fun to exercise. I also love that mail art are gifts and collaborations among a community; they are not for sale. I’ll be posting some of that art on my website blog, but I don’t want to post any of it until after I mail it out—which will probably be on the day I drop off my voting ballot.
RABBIT HOLE
On What Now, Trevor Noah and Christiana speak with Ta-Nehisi Coates on his latest and best-selling book, The Message. Fascinating discussion!
“Art can be to commemorate life, and on the other hand, a commemoration of all the legacies that our ancestors left seeded to give continuity to life”— Maya Kaqchikel artist Edgar Calel’s Family Portrait—”Not All Things Are for Sale”:
Margaret Killjoy of Birds Before the Storm writes that post-Hurricane Helene “Disaster Compassion is Real in North Carolina,” although the destruction and problems are much, much worse there than she expected.
In the past, I have posted Bitter Melon Bindery’s ASMR videos on book binding, because they are so relaxing. And I appreciate her book-making skills. For folks who are interested in selling their art or crafts in-person at local art fairs, here is her vlog report, “Lessons from my first L.A. art market”:
SOUNDINGS
Since I’ve been writing and thinking about my parents’ letters, I have been feeling as though the past has been melding with my sense of present time. It’s an uncanny feeling. On the envelope flap of one of my mom’s letters to Dad, she had written “Ketty [Kitty] Kallen” and the title name of a popular song of the 1940s, “Kiss Me Sweet.“ Listening to those old World War II era songs is for me like listening to a song played on a radio at the far end of a time tunnel.
Below, violinist and trumpet player Andrew Dack plays “It’s Been A Long, Long Time”2 popularized by vocalists of that era such as Kitty Kallen and Helen Forrest.
“Rain, in Your Black Eyes”3 composed and performed by Ezio Bosso (violin), Giacomo Agazzini (violin), and Relga Lukic (cello) to the beautiful film “Regen” by Dutch filmmaker Joris Ivens.
Josh Turner covers Steve Miller’s ‘Swingtown” —with bassoons (Rock E Bassoon) and a terrific drummer. Hah!
Sincere appreciation to all of you who read Eulipion Outpost regularly, and to those who have subscribed here or donated on my Ko-fi page to support my efforts.
My ongoing appreciation goes to the Mysterious M. for his editing.
Website and blog: Jeanvengua1.wordpress.com
Links List on a just-for-fun, old-school Neocities site that I built.
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Letter from Trinidad to Nick, March 10, 1948.
Written by: Jule Styne, Sammy Cahn. Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc. Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
From their album Music for Weather Elements.
That’s so great you have your parents’ letters!
I love this post and even the mundane task of typing is so endearing. Thanks for sharing!