In recent years I've seen "dial phones" that really have push buttons and I've messed with old rotary phones that don't work. But on a recent visit to Tucson, our hotel had a working antique phone. I didn't really need to make a call, but I decided I should take the opportunity.  When will I have this chance again?  So I called the front desk and asked a random hotel question, that I didn't really need an answer for.   After I finished, I picked up the receiver and invited Don to take a photo, to mark the memory.  Remind me next time to be a little more authentic in my photo posing.  I look like I'm talking on the phone...while I'm dialing.

Peggy Sue's Diner

I didn't really need to do the diner thing again, since I started this blog with a malt from a soda fountain.  But when we ran across this authentic diner on a highway after entering California from Nevada, we had to stop. 

The idea that Peggy Sue's roadside café opened in 1954 with 9 counter stools and 3 booths, was pretty cool. That is was sort of in the middle of nowhere on a road called Ghost Town, got me a little giddy.  

The fact that the waitresses wore a pink and blue uniform with a snappy cap, was an added treat.

A special bonus point goes to this smiling server because her name was Shirley!  Perfect!

Polynesian-themed Tiki bars were all the rage in the 1950's, so Don and I tracked one down in Vegas.  Frankie's 24-hour Tiki Room is not in a touristy area, so we trusted our cab driver to find it.   "This looks awesome!" I said with a grin as we stepped up to the not yet glowing, neon sign.  The cab driver chuckled and said we'd find out pretty soon, as he kindly took our photo.  It was cave-black when we stepped inside and it took many minutes before our eyes could make out the carved tiki figures, bamboo furniture, coconut and palm décor.  It sure felt like we'd stepped back 50 years in time, until we noticed glowing cell phones.  Sadly we had to pull out a cell phone, as well.  It was the only way to read the meun of rum cocktails!

I was never exactly a big fan of the Lawrence Welk show, but I loved my grandmother, Daw.  I couldn't resist pleasing her when she gently encouraged me to come sit with her on the couch in front of her big color TV to watch when the dancers came on.  Little did I know that one day I would have the chance to hug Lawrence himself.  Well at least the statue version, on display at the Welk Resort, where they happen to be celebrating the 50th anniversary of Mr. Welk's fine complex.  As I squeezed one of  his arms, the other worked the baton and I just swear I could hear him whisper in my ear, "Wunnerful, Wunnerful!"

During our stay, Don and I made sure to have a champagne toast to Lawrence and his TV show, that started just a couple years before I was born!