The Unexpected Pleasures of Pio Costa

Neat! Always appreciative to hear a good diner recommendation.

Did you happen to bump into cathar at the Hippie Shop?

Thanks for the information. Now I know where to take a few old prints and posters I have.

And I can get a bunch of bandanas for my next BBQ. They not only make nice napkins, they are good for baskets and bowls of chips, bread, crackers, etc. You can use one as a liner and the other to place loosely on top to keep the food fresh and insect free.

On the Route 46 Side of Pio Costa is a carwash with little or no waiting, and very reasonable detailing prices. There is also a seafood wholesaler on the Clinton Road side, where you can go in a side door and buy retail. Jeanette's Dry Cleaners has the cheapest prices around, if you can work within their schedule -- not open every day. Though it has been several years since I lived in Caldwell, so things may have changed somewhat...

Been going to Manny for years. He has a good eye for picking the right color double matting for my corporate clients photos.The price and timely delivery can't be beat.
Make a right out of Manny's and 2 doors down is TPI the only professional photo lab still standing in this area. Still does E-6 processing in 2 hrs. I also see a lot of artists in there having their work copied to slides or cds for show submissions.
We'll have to check out the Hippie shop and also the diner now that it has new owners.

Oh that picture of the salt & pepper shakers made me excited because I thought you were going to say Pio Costa is a gigantic, affordable antique/vintage market. Still, this place sounds pretty cool and might be a good Vespa trip to take sometime this week when I'm bored.

So does anyone know of any excellent Antique markets or vintage stores in the area with good prices? That one on Church St. has some nice stuff but I can't afford any of it!

When I was in Austin, TX last year I found these great New Jersey salt & pepper shakers (in the shape of the state) I thought would make an excellent homage to my home state when I'm living in an Airstream in some other state. They were going for $12 for the pair but I let Mark talk me out of buying them because he said I could find them on Ebay for cheaper. Well, now I can't find them and I regret ever leaving them in Texas. Le sigh.

Real aesthetes (and folks who went to grad school for art history) can always bring the price of framing a print way down from $100 by doing it themselves. You get a standard size mat, even a double mat, with a custom opening (Michael's will always do this), some mounting "stuff and a standard size frame. It's not hard at all, can be done on a kitchen table. But "old" prints and posters often require specialized care, with prices to match; they sure wouldn't usually be done in an hour.

The Hippie Shop is just a joke. Well, I've always hoped it's a joke, even as it's seemingly remained financially viable for some years now.

Tudlow (I type this and I'm reminded of "Mr. Tudball," which was Tim Conway's bumbling character in some skits on the old Carol Burnett TV show), I don't really recall us ever being properly introduced. Until we are (which I susoect isn't bloodly likely), you might refrain from gratuitous references to me in your otherwise turgid posts. Please and thank you.

(prof LOVES cathar's cashmere gloved smack down of Tudlow. I'm reminded of Gene Wilder's Willie Wonka, towards the end, "YOU LOSE, GOOD DAY SIR!!")

Man Cathar, you really know how to harsh our mellows. You are the king of the mellow crushers....A+. I've mounted and framed many photos in my past for shows. Last thing I want to do with my time now is do that. My clients like the excellent work Manny does and my kitchen table remains a place for eating, drinking and paying bills.

Am I the only one here who sees the irony of a thing called a "Hippie Store?"

I'm not saying you shouldn't patronize said establishment and I am sure they are fine folks but I mean, really! This is the same generation that produced "Steal This Book!" by Abbie Hoffman.

Abbie Hoffman was a Yippie, not a Hippie. I spent a few years in Vermont in the early '70's -- them were hippies. (|:>})

It just seems funny that "hippiedom" (or "yippiedom," for that matter) is now a corporate commodity. And probably some of their best customers are kids who were barely zygotes at the crest of hippiedom.

True story: I went to see the late Abbie Hoffman speak in the late 70s. When he opened up the floor to questions, a young guy stood up and said, "Hi. I stole your book!" Without missing beat, Hoffman replied, "You owe me 5 dollars and 95 cents!"

LOL, Martta! I was commuting in and out of NYC via the New Haven RR (evil predecesor of Metro North) when the Yippies staged their sit-in at Grand Central Terminal. Hoffman and couple of others climbed up on the roof over the Information Booth and were holding court until New York's Finest came in and forcibly removed them. No one really paid a lot of attention.

Me thinks there is a trend here with Debbie/cathar sightings. Today, the Hippie Store. Last week, flirting at the Fine Grind.

To clarify once and for all, I simply have no false nostalgia for hippiedom (which surely was over by 1972 at the absolute latest - everything past that date is mere poseur-ism). I recall the period as exceptionally jammed with human wreckage, when people did nasty, often unsavory things to each other in the name of "peace and love. I often really used to wonder if people back then purposely looked their worst, by way of participating in a daily ugliness festival. (In this way, if in no other, hippiedom is akin to the Seaside Heights boardwalk on most any summer day.)

I knew communards, acid and DMT freaks, some musicians whose records were of the period (but sound mainly bad even on cleaned-up CD's today), people who as they prepared for "the revolution" displayed stunning indifference to both free speech and human life, sincere seekers after enlightenment and, unfortunately and especially, those who would take simple advantage of such people. It was not commonly a truly happy period, as I'm sure such folk as were named by their parents "God" and "Moonbeam" and "Aquarius" would gladly tell you. Even beloved Jerry Garcia was basically but a heroin addict flop as a parent, as his daughter in fact remarked the day after he died. And though I only met Jerry Rubin in the late 70's, even in cleaned-up, neocapitalist form he remained a first-class jerk and scratcher after fame with a taste for cheap suits.

There is nothing worse than false nostalgia in many ways. The Hippie Store merely profits from such an approach. More power to them if they make good money from gulling the nostalgic, but their web site is repulsive enough for me.

And Nellie, while I generally like and laugh at your posts, I also don't ever recall being formally introduced to you either. Yet just over a few days you've made two utterly gratuitous references to me and Debbie (whom I have met) together. one more than Tudlow. I'm sure she winces as I do when you make such absurd connections. So you should stop, too, just as I requested of the hokily aggrieved Tudlow. Please and thank you. Don't pretend to a familiarity you don't have (or if you'e smart, aspire to), a general admonition others who didn't live through the worst of the mod 60's through the early 70's others might profitably heed for way of preserving some dignity.

Cathar, I look forward to you posting in a lighter vein.

I didn't say they didn't, Spiro. I LOVE the 60s for the most part but people tend to have selective memory when they look back in history. We tend to only remember the "happier times" and the "innocence" of a certain era. Sure, the 60s gave us great music and groovy clothes but they also gave us race riots, recreational drugs, and way too many Vietnam War casualties.

Mrs. M, I didn't say that you didn't say that they didn't.

Come on now, groovy people. This negativity is such a drag. Everyone can dig a little peace and love. Especially after a toke on some fine weed. Gotta split now, easy.

I was on a flight from Florida to NJ back in 1988 and this really dirty and dishevelled looking dude got on the plane with crutches. As he hobbled towards the back of the plane and my seat, I sent up a silent prayer, "Please God, don't let him sit next to me. He looks like he might smell pretty bad". As he got closer I recognized him. It was Abbie. He sat a few rows behind me and my gratitude for being spared was nearly limitless.

Regarding the whole hippie thing, it was whatever you wanted to make it. It was a good time for partying and spontaneous road trips. I found the friendships I made during this time to be ephemeral but the comraderie was genuine. Jerry may have been a drug addict, but there was no denying his talent for stringed instruments, his songwriting and singing ability.

I'm glad I got to experience this era and I'm especially glad I got to see Iron Butterfly and Jefferson Airplane at Upsala college in May, 1967. What a show!