Posted on 05/01/2017 1:37:42 AM PDT by Jacquerie
Subtitle: Recollections from Pre-Politically Correct America.
A welcomed respite from the drudgery of learning multiplication tables in my third grade was Thursday lunch at the school cafeteria . . . sloppy joes! Forget today’s lean beef craze; this delicacy was wonderfully greasy and delicious. Notwithstanding Michelle O’s national lunch menus, I don’t recall a single fat kid in my homeroom class.
The working-class neighborhood of my youth was multi-ethnic. In Leftist terms, it was diverse. My friends were mostly second and third generation Italian, Irish, and Polish. Of course, we called each other Dagos, Micks and Pollacks and somehow never took offense. A new kid showed up during fifth grade. He was a Lebanese Christian who immediately took to American sports. Had we been creative enough to come up with a slur for his ethnicity, we would have used it. Mercilessly.
Since the nearest city park was several blocks away, we often played in the side-streets. Just about all of us were bumped at least once by cars. A VW Beetle hit me as it braked to a stop. I jumped just before impact, bounced off the hood, went over the top, and landed on my rear end behind the car. Save for a growing bruise, I was uninjured, but figured that was a temporary condition if my mother found out. The shocked driver stopped, ran back toward me, asking all the while if I was okay. I took off through a series of alleys to my home. I thought I lost him and walked in like nothing happened. I wasn’t slick enough; he knocked on the front door and spoke with Mom. She accepted our combined versions of the incident, and that was that; no shouting, no threat of a lawsuit, no police report . . .
(Excerpt) Read more at articlevblog.com ...
We played football and baseball in the streets. When we got bored, we would sometimes set off M-80s.
You Septics really need lessons in ethnic slurs.
It's Leb
And courtesy of our Wog community http://forums.greekcity.com.au/topic/9561-leb-jokes/
I could eat sloppy joe’s every day. The wife doesn’t like them but will occasionally make me a batch which I will heat up and have a few sandwiches for several days.
1980s Staten Island :)
Wow. I was thinking. The same thing. Westwood for me in ne jersey, Bergen county.
My cousin had one. It was tough to fight envy.
Public liberty, the right to self-government, isn’t slipping away; it is gone.
Instead of progressive social justice, I’ll take the sloppy joe society of my youth. Every time. Sweet dreams to all
The perfect society the Left purports to be trying to build is a pipe dream that the Left uses to control their supporters and just a tool they use to construct the totalitarian regime they desire to lead.
Yeah. Even in the Philippines, our little tribe of aliens of all sorts didn’t recognize our alienness. I don’t remember calling anyone names but if we as a group did, I am sure I did. We were all colors of skin. We didn’t know we were supposed to be inferior or superior due to the translucency of our skin color. I am still that color blind. I would many people are, too.
I remember creating a cartoon for our school newspaper sr year. It had a menue marquee outside the cafeteria
Monday — Sloppy Joe
Tuesday — Hamburger Macaroni casserole
Wednesday — Chili with meat and macaroni
Thursday — How now ground cow ?
Friday — Fish and Macaroni with cheese
Best part of week was Tuesday when homemade yeast rolls smothered with REAL butter was served.
Remember Italian hot dogs? I don't know if they even still exist.
Speaking of things that no longer exist, here is a look back at some of the Jersey places that you grew up with but are no longer here:
The 60’s in my hometown, except we walked home for lunch in elementary school, where mom usually made us a box of macaroni and cheese.
Sting Ray....WOW!
Remember the “ Orange Crate?”÷
YUM!
Salisbury steak! A blast from the past!
I went to Catholic school in an Italian neighborhood and the boys would bring YUGE meatball sandwiches, dripping red “gravy.” I sat there with my mother’s healthy but horrible natural peanut butter sandwich on whole wheat. The worst was when other kids had fluffer-nutter sandwiches.
From the headline I thought this was going to be about the Joe Biden Fan Club.
Back then the delicatessens would load up the cold cut meats in a glorious hero. Now the damn sandwich outfits carefully count the meager slices and tasteless cheese and lousy bread mostly. I miss those days.
Even Stewarts root beer doesn’t taste as wonderful as it used to.
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