A reader from out of state has asked me if any others can recall the old signs of the 1930s, '40s and '50s along the nation's highways that advertised Burma Shave. I remember some from the '50s. I believe they were red signs with either black or white printing.
There would be about five or six of them, spaced maybe 500 feet apart. I called them "serial" signs.
The very last one of each series ended in the words "BURMA SHAVE." This is how some of them read:
DOES YOUR HUSBAND MISBEHAVE...
GRUNT AND GRUMBLE...
RANT AND RAVE?...
SHOOT THE BRUTE...
SOME BURMA-SHAVE
HINKY DINKY...
PARLEY VOO...
CHEER UP FACE...
THE WAR IS THROUGH...
BURMA SHAVE
HE PLAYED A SAX...
BUT HIS WHISKERS SCRATCHED...
HAD NO B.O. ...
SO SHE LET HIM GO..
BURMA SHAVE
DON'T TAKE A CURVE...
AT 60 PER...
WE HATE TO LOSE...
A CUSTOMER...
BURMA-SHAVE
PAST SCHOOLHOUSES...
TAKE IT SLOW...
LET THE LITTLE...
SHAVERS GROW...
BURMA SHAVE
DON'T STICK YOUR ELBOW...
OUT SO FAR...
IT MIGHT GO HOME...
IN ANOTHER CAR...
BURMA SHAVE
SHE KISSED THE HAIRBRUSH...
BY MISTAKE...
SHE THOUGHT IT WAS...
HER HUSBAND JAKE...
BURMA-SHAVE
THAT SHE COULD COOK...
HE HAD HIS DOUBTS...
UNTIL SHE CREAMED...
HIS BRISTLE SPROUTS...
WITH BURMA-SHAVE
I KNOW HE'S A WOLF...
SAID 'RIDING HOOD...
BUT GRANDMA DEAR...
HE SMELLS SO GOOD...
BURMA-SHAVE
PITY ALL...
THE MIGHTY CAESARS...
THEY PULLED EACH WHISKER...
OUT WITH TWEEZERS...
BURMA-SHAVE
WITHIN THIS VALE...
OF TOIL AND SIN...
YOUR HEAD GROWS BALD...
BUT NOT YOUR CHIN...
BURMA-SHAVE
My friend Stephan Bokey tells me that Jennifer Carlucci, who is the youngest of his oldest sister's three children, has been recognized by Calvert County and the State of Maryland for excellence in the public school system.
She passed along to her family an e-mail that contained a story brought to her by one of her students, titled, "And They Call These People Retarded." It reads as follows:
"A few years ago, at the Seattle Special Olympics, nine contestants, all physically- or mentally-disabled, assembled at the starting line for the 100-yard dash. At the gun, they all started out, not exactly in a dash, but with a relish to run the race and finish to win. All, that is, except one little boy who stumbled on the asphalt, tumbled over a couple of times and began to cry.
"The other eight heard the boy cry. They slowed down and looked back. Then they all turned and went back ... every one of them. One girl with Down's Syndrome bent down and kissed him and said, 'This will make it better.' Then all nine linked arms and walked together to the finish line.
"What matters in life is more than winning for ourselves. What matters is helping others win, even if it means slowing down and changing a course. If you pass this on, we may be able to change our hearts, as well as someone else's."
Exponent and Telegram Editor Bob Stealey can be reached by phone at (304) 626-1438, or by e-mail at rstealey@exponent-telegram.com.