Spitball Army

Ziggy, at 13 years and three months, begging for food – his most practiced and perfected activity.

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Transcribing correspondence from the World War II era, starting with that of Beverly Anderson, has been an ongoing, truly enjoyable experience for me, and an educational one. I have always had a fascination with history, particularly cultural history, and find the War era especially rich. “Ancient” American culture is a puzzle: discovering what was once in vogue, what customs we have retained, what practices have fallen by the wayside. I have been particularly surprised with phrases and sayings from this period, some familiar and some that might as well be in a foreign language.

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If my mother had asked us this question as kids, or something similar (like “Want me to make a positive difference and fight for ALL of South Oceanside children’s future from OUTSIDE of our kitchen?”), we would have just looked at her as if she had sprouted a second head on her shoulders.

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Irwin Rommel is a mysterious figure in Patton, a wily military opponent who is rarely seen in person, but whose most memorable “appearance” in the film is when George C. Scott (as George Patton) shouts, “Rommel, you magnificent bastard, I read your book!”

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Client: Hi.

Therapist: Yep. (fast, almost sounds like the same voice saying, “Hiyep”)

Client: How’re ya doin’?

Therapist: Fine, what’s up. (curt and quick, almost telegraphic)

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He was friendly to excess – everywhere – greeting store clerks, passersby and unclothed men in the locker room with equal vigor.

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