tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post8194604597901499927..comments2024-01-28T03:56:39.351-08:00Comments on TOM CLARK: ShoeshineUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post-459119076020092572011-11-20T20:42:28.440-08:002011-11-20T20:42:28.440-08:00Mike,
My hat is off to the shoeshine kids who mad...Mike,<br /><br />My hat is off to the shoeshine kids who made good.<br /><br />I love that bottom shot of the little Chinatown baby looking up at the stately shine chair, as though it were a throne. <br /><br />And there are thrones (as E. Pound poem'd in another context).TChttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05915822857461178942noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post-88052065453766236232011-11-20T13:40:34.434-08:002011-11-20T13:40:34.434-08:00Tom, My father was a seventh grade drop out but be...Tom, My father was a seventh grade drop out but before he quit to go to work fulltime he was a newsie and a shoeshine boy and when you shook his hand he'd say, "Shake the hand that shook the hand of President Taft in 1912 on the corner of Scotland Road and South Orange Avenue" where he had his stand.<br /><br />I had a shoeshine kit and did the same thing in the early 1950s, and in the early '60s was in the service getting shit for my shoes not being as "spit polished" as the brownnosers who were using some kind of cotton pads that had chemicals in them and made your shoes shine like patent leather, but it was against regulations, which wasn't why I didn't do it, i just didn't dig that my perfectly acceptable shined shoes weren't good enough for the inspecting seargents and brass.<br /><br />All of which is to say, these photographs and the interview with the NYC boys from '38 brought up a lot of memories and thoughts about the dignity of any kind of labor, at least as my old man taught me to see it and I sometimes experienced it, though I also always had a chip on my shoulder toward most of the richer folks I worked for as a kid and teenager thinking I'd show them some day, and I did in my limited way. I hope some of those in the photos and interview did too.Lallyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05310472614196384595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post-82506249660408446222011-11-20T09:34:26.804-08:002011-11-20T09:34:26.804-08:00Remarkable tour. The Narcissus image really stick...Remarkable tour. The Narcissus image really sticks, by the way. I've never been able to accomplish that level of shine working on my own shoes, however hard I try. That is the province of gifted professionals, who deserve credit and decent payment for their science and skill. CurtisACravanhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00315707533118640284noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post-87514623347067853882011-11-19T04:19:23.446-08:002011-11-19T04:19:23.446-08:00So Nin, again Moderation in all things yields more...So Nin, again Moderation in all things yields more good things, like finding something under the Christmas tree that tempts you to think you have not been quite so Naughty after all.<br /><br />Being back home must be bringing the memories flooding back to you, one can only imagine how overwhelming that must be.<br /><br />My strongest shoe-shine memories date back to compulsory ROTC days. The buttons and brass and especially the shoes would NEVER be polished properly, and the inspections by those picky lifer first lieutenants from Oklahoma would always be terrible trials.<br /><br />For decades afterward my most recurrent post-college nightmare would be: late for inspection, brass and buttons tarnished, rifle parts not clean, and shoes -- well, the inspecting lieutenant was supposed to be able to see his own visage in them, like Narcissus. Instead, in the dream (as in the earlier reality), what was seen was: dull leather, flecked with stray bits of mud.<br /><br />(Hope things are all well, or as well as may be expected, on the old homestead.)TChttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05915822857461178942noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post-57800851915224616442011-11-19T04:06:26.895-08:002011-11-19T04:06:26.895-08:00The boy in the top photo appears to be putting the...The boy in the top photo appears to be putting the finishing touches on what (as you will recall, Vassilis) used to be called a "spit shine".<br /><br />The recipient of this culminating touch appears to be a theorist. Theorists (as you may have observed) refuse to smile even when you spit on their already shiny shoes.<br /><br />That particular Chicago location, by the by, is quite familiar to me from my own youthful working days.<br /><br />As are, for that matter, the two Lower East Side streetcorners inhabited by the singing shoeshine urchins interviewed by the WPA caseworker in the cold mid-December twilight of 1938. <br /><br />In 1967-1968 I had a room near those corners. It was not quite the Ritz. But at least I did not have to stoop before anyone's shoes, much less spit upon them.<br /><br />But who knows what the future may hold, in these stringent shineless times.TChttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05915822857461178942noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post-9194764601559295792011-11-19T04:01:17.182-08:002011-11-19T04:01:17.182-08:00I remember shining shoes at home, the little circl...I remember shining shoes at home, the little circles of shoe polish . . . I think we would use for other things as well, but I can't recall what. <br /><br />I am pretty sure if I go through the closets of this house my parents lived in, I will findhockey pucks of polish. <br /><br />Another moving post--Nin Andrewshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12643167108589844026noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post-32182102091045965662011-11-18T23:11:45.696-08:002011-11-18T23:11:45.696-08:00I accept the dedication following this poignant se...I accept the dedication following this poignant series of photographs because--though my judgement remains muddy on some matters, I can still tell shit from Shineola and this is good shit. Thanks, Tom.vazambam (Vassilis Zambaras)https://www.blogger.com/profile/14515165428574974933noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post-11593178444151161372011-11-18T17:18:05.198-08:002011-11-18T17:18:05.198-08:00Aditya,
It's always so lovely, and restorativ...Aditya,<br /><br />It's always so lovely, and restorative, and truth-enhancing, to hear from you.<br /><br />You are a young man, but you have "old eyes" -- that is, eyes that see with the wisdom and sadness that come of having daily experience of real poverty, in a part of the world where such poverty is, alas, not an uncommon thing.<br /><br />That beautiful little poem is in fact a fit text for this post.TChttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05915822857461178942noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post-37223990304602696672011-11-18T11:22:15.119-08:002011-11-18T11:22:15.119-08:00Tom
A very heart wrenching post.
The photographs...Tom<br /><br />A very heart wrenching post. <br />The photographs from 1940s ironically evoke a feeling that its all safely buried in the past. And now we live in a happy safe righteous place. I guess the irony has always been deliberate on your part. <br /><br />Everyday I look at an old man who sits on the road-side doing no business at all. I saw him shining some shoes today. Shoes owned by these young happy fit men. It was more heart wrenching than watching him earning nothing .. at all. <br /><br />To talk of the uselessness of the immediate sympathies one 'feels' in order to 'feel better' (?) <br /><br />I've never helped them earn their livelihood. Either ways.<br /><br />everytime-<br /><br />he raises his eyes<br /><br />the shoeshine boyadityahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16078144194220301083noreply@blogger.com