Midmod Musings

Summertime, and the drinkin' is mid-mod.

 

Today, Paul and I adopted Charlie, an adorable 4-year-old from Miniature Schnazuer Rescue of North Texas. So far, Charlie and Murphy have been best of pals, and he is cuddly and affectionate. Charlie's a touch on the chubby side big-boned, but a week or two palling around with The Beast will whip him into shape.

I've felt like celebrating all day, so I thought I would take this occasion to start a series I've been thinking about for a while: festive adult beverages served in mid-century modern glassware.

Today, it reached 101 in Dallas, so I could hardly even muster the will to shake a martini. I simply cracked open a bottle Warsteiner beer and decanted it into one of the Old Morgantown "Crinkle" hollow-stem pilsners I picked from City Square Thrift Shop the other day. What could be more easily refreshing? The entire contents of one bottle didn't quite fill the enormous glass, which was made to accommodate a pint.

I'm sipping my West German brew as I type, and Charlie, asleep on the hall rug, makes little grunting noises. Believe it or not, this makes me happier than finding a pair of Schmoos in a thrift shop. Bliss!

Thrifty Finds

Something told me to stop at the thrift on the way home. So glad I listened to that little voice! I snagged the following:

• four scarce Old Morgantown Crinkle hollow stem pilsners. The color is the less-than-desirable Topaz, but the hard-to-find shape is a delightfully capacious 16 ounces.
• a George Briard glass tray with a Greco-Roman motif. The gold overlay depicts lyres, laurels, and suns. I'm not a big fan of Briard - his designs tend toward kitsch - but this piece appealed to me for its simple geometry and its graphic elegance.
• a Harkerware "Blue Mist" milk pitcher. I've always liked these shapes, but I've never seen the speckled blue and gray combination. It reminds me of Russel Wright's Glacier Blue.
• the cream of the crop: a pair of Red Wing Town & Country salt and pepper shakers in rust, designed by Eva Zeisel, on sale for a mere $4.25. If there is such a thing as too much glee, I am guilty of it.

Gods of the Thrift Store, Smile on Us

Back in Minnesota, shopping in thrift stores always depressed me. I'd hear these fabulous tales of modernist rarities acquired in thrift shops -- Scott Lindberg has even found two Picassos for mercy's sake! -- and all I would find is stained Tupperware and scratched Corelle.

For a while, I blamed the master thrifters I knew for wiping out the Twin Cities market. There were times when I was literally steps behind Scott on the Lake Street thrift circuit, adding desperation to depression - "He's going to find the good stuff first! HURRY, ANTAY!" At least I never witnessed him finding a Russel Wright circus animal at St. Vincent DePaul. Because that totally could have happened. And I would have had to kill him.

Since moving to Texas, my luck has improved, and not just because I'm a thousand miles away from Lindberg. And it's not because there aren't thrifters here: I've come to be nodding acquaintances with several. But maybe it's because I learned from the masters never to give up on the optimism that drives one into a thrift shop in the first place. Persistence -- and patience -- are the keys to success.

I thought I would simply post a few pictures of my favorite scores. Not to gloat -- okay, maybe a little bit to gloat -- but to give hope to those of you like me who consider yourselves thrift store weinies. Stick to it. There's gold in them thar hills.