Monday, 2 May 1955
| I had been working for a few years freelancing cartoons to Boston advertising agencies and an upstart company across the river in Cambridge called Polaroid. I had illustrated two text books for D.C. Heath and Ginn, and I had sold a spread to True magazine. I earned about $5,000 a year, of which $4,200 was left after taxes. It was the Good Old Days after World War II when you could keep your records in a shoe box. I shared space in a studio in a low-rent building across from a hotel of dubious reputation on Boylston Street where I had a drawing table, a stool, and a lamp. Note the ashtray. We all smoked cigarettes. We also wore shirts and ties because that was the dress code in those days. The British butcher's apron came from the Artisan's on Newbury Street. |
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The British Cunard Line used that as its slogan -- Getting There is Half the Fun. At least, it would seem, for much of the deck crew, until American girls found out about wearing skirts on deck where there is usually a breeze. The unoffical Holland America Line slogan was a play on their initials - NASM. Our stewards told us that it stood for Nice Americans Spend Money. Our second adventure was with stewards. |
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Our first adventure was with bag handlers at the Holland America Line pier in Hoboken who grabbed our suitcases and demanded $10 right under the No Tipping signs. Dining room stewards were the next most aggressive tip hustlers but at least they weren't thugs. They wished they didn't have to work the tourist class crowd. So did we. | |
| Once the stewards had received their end-of-voyage tips they ignored all of us. We only saw the backs of their duck's ass haircuts. |
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| Actually we all tipped lavishly, considering the price of drinks. Imported beer was 10 cents, Drambuie a quarter. |
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