Once I sat in my aunt’s kitchen in the morning, eating breakfast with my older cousin Spencer (RIP) while a morning talk show sounded from a tiny tv in an open cabinet. I was shy then—and maybe now, around people I think are too good for most of humanity—and spooning my cereal while flipping through one of her interior design magazines, working from the back page forward.
He grinned at me, leaned in, and said, “You read things backwards, too, little cuz? I do the same thing.” I hadn’t even realized I was doing it, but it seemed the most logical way to tackle it. I’ll never know if he meant literally, or was—a thought that only occurred to me many years later—making a joke about his learning disability in a way that kept it just between the two of us.
I always turn a page over to see what’s on the back side before tearing it out, or cutting it up.
Good thing, too, because this page from an old ’69 issue of the Los Angeles Free Press advertising Steppenwolf’s tour, bore some pretty spectacular treasures prior to getting spliced into the back of an old frame I found in the garage.
Mexican Imports. Rock bottom prices on super groovy items for hip guys and gals.
Not 4, and not 6, but 5 groovy rings.
“There’s no hang ups with this groovy bag.” “For hip guys and gals.”
Hell, I could’ve written this copy myself.
Long live all that is groovy.