It’s not a popular name.
Thaddeus (Greek Θαδδαῖος, Thaddaios, from Aramaic תדי, Taddai / Aday) is a male given name. It means a heart or courageous heart. As of the 1990 Census, ‘Thaddeus‘ was the 611th most popular male name in the United States, while ‘Thad’, its diminutive version, was the 846th most popular.
I recall the name. I recall Thaddeus Potgalki. I have misspelled it. He was a hippie in my high school class. Mid 1960’s – duh! He had a beard before I had arm hair. I recall my chemistry teacher Mr. Schindler slowly savor his name as he pronounced it. He next appears in my memory in my high school English class when he gave a thundering delivery of a poetic piece. He was destined for drama as I was for science and medicine. I hope he did well.
Oakland, Maryland. Junior was tucked in a corner and had been marked down three times. “Lightbulb!” Look up the brand to find it’s provenance and worth. Ah! The price is less than you can get on eBay. It’s not pretty. It runs. The key!? No key! I need to get one. Surprisingly, most clocks and keys are separated from one another. It’s not a universal key. But one can be had on Amazon. Is there anything they don’t stock? Yes, parts for my Kieninger movement clock! Yes, the grandfather now has a grand baby. It’s a New England Clock Company steeple clock… just like the picture on the internet. ….needs work…right, twice a day.
It’s sad. My grandfather clock was an hour fast per day. When it broke down, it was correct twice a day (old joke). I suddenly had a very expensive paperweight in my living room (true life). That would never do. I had turned a working clock into trash. eBay! The replacement part retailed for $649. No!! I did not pay a fraction for the used works. Auction, bidding, success! (Long story short) $10.50 and postage was paid by the seller!
It did not fit. “Shit!” Oh, well, despair again! (Hey! I’m trying to fit a long story into a paragraph or two.) Old adage – in brain surgery – “if it doesn’t fit, …force it.” At the end an extra screw is not what you want to be seeing. I bet that makes you happy you asked? Nope, I finally used the auction part to tell me where all the gears went and in what order. Voila! Yes!! Really!!! I fit all those pieces and gears back in and I got it to work. It needs fine tuning. And in the course of things I found out why the clock doesn’t work right in the first place. Unfortunately, there was a piece broken before I ever messed with it. But now I’m ok to take a Kieninger clockwork apart. I can reassemble it with a little help. It’s mechanical. No jewels. No quartz. No springs. Hey, it’s not brain surgery!
The things I see; the things people collect’ the things that show up as “rescued;” the things someone will try to sell…oh my!
It’s an old telephone switchboard. Don’t ask. I don’t know how to work it. I know what it’s for. I grew up with a phone that you picked up the receiver and spoke to the operator who then put you through to your party. Yeah, they called it a “party.” Don’t ask. Back then I had a phone number with four digits. They added the three number exchange later. In West Virginia, we got 636-xxxx. It was quite a surprise to see that exchange is the most common even now. This all happened in the ‘60’s when I was a kid. Yes, ancient times.
The really old one does not have a “QWERTY” keyboard. And it’s missing a key? I never would have looked…but (OCD) – “H” – it’s replaced by ‘tel.’ Oh well, go figure. They must have lost one. If I had to drop a letter it would be “Q.” Oh no! Not “Q.” I’m not saying I would. But if you had to lose a letter… I’m not implying that I have lost it…
You know I would never remember its name unless someone I know (equal age) uttered the words. Of course! Yup! That’s’ what it is. What? It was left beside roadside construction to warn drivers of hazard. They don’t have them anymore. Imagine what people save and restore to display in antique stores. No! I do not want one. Today the blinking yellow warning lights are battery operated and they set off my radar detector too. Yes, the things i will take a picture of…
Vending machines. No, those are not real (stale) packs of cigarettes. Classic brands! You don’t see these machines around any longer. We regulate and ban just about everything. But you can still legally buy cancer. Then, we have health care to take care of it. There’s one catch. You can’t buy health. And vending machines don’t sell cigarettes any more. Ah! Two…
Here are some recent signs I’ve run across. Old brands are fun. You may remember some. Or not. If you are certain age, then this is silly stuff. Someday you will have your own history to recall. Hey! These are such old signs that some of them are meaningless to me too.
I shoot images of the American flag when I come across them. Recently there were a series of patriotic shots in a row. Nice. Yay team! Lately, I’ve wondered which team and whether I support the coach. Sorry, no. Boo, coach!
I go to antique stores. It’s loosely defined as something older than 100 years. Cars don’t often live to one hundred and printed materials are frequently centuries old. I did a typewriter series a little bit ago. Typewriters date back to last century. How quaint! My connection to typewriters is with term papers I typed in the middle of the night. Mistakes were not tolerated (OCD me). Correct tape and erasers were frowned upon. Ah, well, it was an old Underwood for me. You may have used another. There’s a really old one pictured. The label said, “Don’t touch. This is a $500 typewriter.” Ha! Well, I moved the tag. What’s the point? No one uses film cameras any more either. I saw an Argus C3 “brick” for $45 and it’s junk on eBay for $6. You can dream. A treasure is worth what someone else is willing to pay. Anyone want a $500 typewriter?