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Saturday, 17 December 2011


It's 6:30 PM, Friday 1973.  Two income homes were a rarity, so chances are mom spent the afternoon cooking and cleaning at home.  The tables were cleared of ashtrays and set for dinner. A muffled TV set playing "The Wonderful World of Disney" emanating from the kid's room, glasses and silverware clinking, sporadic laughter, and unabated overlapping conversations, free of awkward silences.  Those were the sounds of my seventies.

I don't think social meals, even as a family, are nearly as common these days. It's a sad loss - the dinner table has been the meeting place for literally thousands of years.  What a shame that it's being replaced by fast food in a greasy bag. Let's take a look at what was on the table both at home and dining-out during the seventies (and late sixties), long before it disintegrated into the hustle and bustle of the 2000s.



This looks like something King Henry IIX would eat after a long day of fox hunting and wife murdering. Not the sort of spread I'd expect at a beach picnic. 

Dinner at the Huddle House? What's the occasion I wonder. There's a cake on the table without candles, so I'm guessing it's a First Communion or something similar.

Privileged white folks at supper. How quaint.

The guy in the middle seems to have something on his mind - he can't really be eyeing that floral arrangement. Is he ready to make a big announcement? "Helen, Larry, Rose... mom....I'm gay."


Smoke 'em if you got 'em, ladies. 


This family takes their bibbing seriously. The beard on the guy at the head of the table is nothing short of alarming.

This image is from a magazine article on "Together Teens" doing the cooking for a party. There's so much to love here - the 'fro, the pink jumpsuit, the tight sweater vest, the fly-away collar.  I almost tear up looking at it. 

I get the scenario - they just moved in, so they're eating their lunch on cardboard boxes.  A pretty sensational meal, all things considered.  My family doesn't eat this good and we've been living here for years. (guilt)


Aha! So, this is what goes on in First Class!... Down with the 1%! 


When you've got clothes this loud, you'd better have some wicked exciting food presentations to match. I wonder what the lady in mint-chocolate-chip polyester is drinking.  I'll have whatever she's having.   

There's an empty seat at this table. Perhaps, he/she couldn't handle watching the food getting caught in that fella's mighty crumb catcher. 


... and then Grandma fought back and polyunsaturated the living shit out of those Schifano brats.  It was an ugly scene - one the family would prefer to forget.

THE END



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