Since I'm "drained", Agnes has decided to step up and offer today's blog post.
All this brouhaha in Hudson over the kids not wanting to play together reminds me of the ruckus we had between the "North of Fourth Girls" and the "South of Fourth Girls".
Generally, those "South of Fourth Girls" had the reputation of being a little looser, if you know what I mean, and doing back door type things us ladies wouldn't do.
I had matriclated from the Hudson Women's Training Institute in 1939; most of those other girls, they had got their education on the street, Strawberry Alley' to be specific.
It was very "Town and Gown" in Hudson then; us graduated types, we knew typing and stenography and could make a wife think we were really secretaries, which was a well-paying euphemism at that time. A girl could get herself a nice Ford coupe and a fox-fur coat if she took good dictation.
I knew how a lady behaved, in public youse guys would see me in gloves and hat and dyed-to-match shoes. There used to be this great corset shop at Fifth and Diamond... and the push-up bras on the 3rd floor of Marsh & Bachman's! Mister Leigh was my "personal shopper" there.
About the time that "Lady and the Tramp" premiered, the trouble started, I recall. What used to be a nice group that mixed, respected each others particular talents and fashion sense, then we all just split up, drew a line in the mud.
Me and my friends then hung out around the long-gone Gold Spike, at 7th and Diamond by the railroad tracks.
The Half Mast, that was at Front and Diamond. The South of Fourth Girls split from us down there, and we girls didn't mix at all. Until one brave wop, Devida Lavia, took off her top and paraded down Warren Street with "all for one, two for the boys" written on her back on Flag Day. It was a gasser! That wop had some gazongas!
We all laughed so hard, and called a truce. For a few years, we even had a "Two For the Boys" lemonade stand at Fourth and Warren during the Korean War, on hot summer weekends when the 'mos from the city were up here cruising for trade.
Rubes! Sometime we'd charge 'em as much as twenty-five cents for lemonade we made from lemons we stole from the that tree over by Underhill Pond. And it all went for blowjobs for the sailors that we gave away -- the city boys would have paid twenty smackeroos. Either way the boys won.
Ah, sweet Hudson memories.