Father's Day
Fostoria amber coin glass raised-hub "double" ashtray (for cigars and cigarettes), early 60s, with Ronson, Zippo and Imco lighters, and meerschaum pipe
Searching for a 1904 association today, Gentle Reader, and I'm afraid the best I can do is come up close.
Fostoria Glass Company began operations in Fostoria, Ohio in 1887 but moved to Moundsville, Virginia in 1891 and certainly manufactured glassware in 1904 and in fact did so for roughly 90 years until the company was sold in 1986 and the factory closed.
All American presidents from Eisenhower to Reagan ordered Fostoria glassware for the White House. My sister and I bought this ashtray for our dad sometime, I believe, during the Kennedy administration. We thought it covered all the bases: it was "colonial" in the much admired Colonial Williamsburg aesthetic of the time -- we had been taken to see them make candles and soap there one summer vacation -- and it was also functional. Even then we had learned the rule that form should follow function but in a beautiful way. Or at least I had acquired this design truth and talked my sister into splitting the cost and then pleaded with my mother to make up the difference when we came up short. And yes, tastes change, but you can still find similar pieces on e-bay with BuyItNow! prices ranging from $19.00 to $45.00, not including shippping.
The lighters are my dad's and his dad's; Ronson was a company active in 1904 but not until the 20s was it famous for its lighter, and then ironically during World War II while all the Ronson factories switched to ammunition production, Zippo lighters were issued to the GIs; Zippo remains a popular brand to this day.
Imco is an Austrian brand which started making lighters in 1918. Still more ironically, duiring the War the Germans called the American Sherman tanks "Ronsons" because of the ease with which they caught fire.
Meerschaum pipes were certainly in use in 1904 and well before and after, and is a handy excuse to introduce you to the archives of The Nonist blog, which continues to be a source of much that is fascinating and arcane and beautiful.
I guess what I wanted to say today was something about fathers and how a father connects you to the world in ways nothing else in your life does. Or, how the associations you have with fathers and fatherhood and men are often things like ashtrays and cigars and wide-striped neck ties and very starched white dress shirts and boxer shorts and Iron City Beer and Old Spice and ham radio sets (those are my dad's call letters on his Zippo) -- things that in some cases you might not even want in your home today, but which can still evoke powerful memories. Articulating those memories and associations, however, is another matter.
Which is why I try and use a framework or reference, like 1904, to explain, although it doesn't quite work in this instance. You could argue it's because my dad (1916-1971) died when I was very young, but I am still working on the relationship. I think everybody does. I think even if you are an orphan, you have a relationship with your dad or some idea of a dad or a father figure to work on and work out and come to terms with.
But to be specific: Mack Gordon (June 21, 1904 - March 1, 1959), American composer and lyricist, was born today. He won an Oscar for "You'll Never Know." My dad loved songs like that, and the singers who sang them and the big band stuff from the 40s, so there is a connection here, I think, which will make sense or not, depending. Mack Gordon also wrote "At Last."
Happy Father's Day.




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