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Inviting breakfast tableau

January 15, 2017
1400-block-w-broadway-2017-01-13-7-39a

A restaurant in the 1400 block of West Broadway Ave. waking up at 7:30 a.m.

Oh breakfast place across the street,
Your hearth-like glow looks so neat,
But however much I wish to eat,
your Eggs of Benedict and cakes of wheat,
Your lofty prices have me beat.
All I can afford to do is look at you…
Standing here across the street.

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4 Comments
  1. brouillardesque permalink

    Reminds me of “One Meat Ball”, a tune from the Depression (I thought) I first heard on Ry Cooder’s first LP back around 1970:

    A litle man walked up and down,
    To find an eating place in town.
    He read the menu through and through,
    To see what fifteen cents could do.

    One meat ball,
    One meat ball,
    He could afford but one meat ball.

    He told the waiter near at hand,
    The simple dinner he had planned.
    The guests were startled one and all,
    To here that waiter loudly call,

    One meat ball,
    One meat ball,
    This here gent wants one meat ball.

    The little man felt very sad,
    For one meat ball is all he had,
    And in his dreams he hears that call,
    Ya get no bread with one meat ball.

    One meat ball,
    One meat ball,
    Ya get no bread with one meat ball.

    • That’s great. Thank you. Here’s audio-only of Ry Cooder performing “One Meatball” live (it’s slower than I imagined it would be). I wonder why Depression-era songs sound so relevant today?

      • brouillardesque permalink

        I still have the LP. My parents lived through the Depression in New York, but seemed not to have suffered what many did with the unemployment, food and housing beyond the means of many, and such. It almost feels as though OMB was a shot across the bows at a time when we were supposed to be somewhere between peak democracy (1968) and prosperity (1973).

      • I was born well after the Depression but I grew up on the Canadian Prairies surrounded by adults who had survived the double whammy of the Drought and the Depression. My grandmother told me about the Depression and the Dust Bowl like it happened yesterday and could happen again tomorrow. She didn’t miss a day admonishing me to be thrifty and eat every scrap on my plate and be very grateful.

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