Once again I find myself thanking God for His dubious wisdom in allowing Scan-Tron to come into existence. As I've mentioned before, I hated those stupid things in high school--they didn't allow me to show off my knowledge, nor did they allow me to fudge my way through information I didn't know. As a teacher, though, they're manna from heaven, or at least a box of Rheb's chocolates. Multiple-choice tests are hard to write (think of all the wrong answers you have to invent), but you can "check" one hundred tests in about ten minutes. It takes about five hours to grade one hundred short-answer tests and I won't bore you with the saga that is the grading of real essay exams.
I am now taking a break from the writing of my multiple-choice Scan-Tron nightmare, to be administered tomorrow.
Today, I took a break before I even started work.
When people in the abysmally-hot cities of Baltimore and Washington wanted relief in years past, they went to the beaches. Unless, of course, they couldn't afford it or didn't have a car or (see previous post) didn't want to fart around for hours on the various forms of transit that could get you there. For those seeking less complicated respite from city heat, there were amusement parks.
Mostly built by the streetcar companies as a means of boosting revenue, amusement parks in the pre-theme-park era were generally right outside city limits, but were still cooler than the city streets. Most of them were in nice shady spots, preferably near water of some kind. You got on the streetcar, packed a picnic lunch and your children, and went for the day.
Baltimore had little amusement parks all over the place. There was Gwynn Oak with its famous Dixie Ballroom; Carlin's, which had the best funhouse around; Bay Shore Park--probably the most exciting, since it had a nice sandy beach, and two or three lesser establishments. All of them are gone now and mostly obliterated by time, although there's still a little bit of the beach left at Bay Shore along with the park's old central fountain, and the trolley station still waiting for a happy throng of visitors that will never again disembark from the #10 car.
Washington, which in those days tended to lag behind Baltimore in amenities, only ever had one amusement park. Glen Echo Park always advertised itself truthfully as "Washington's Only Pleasure Park!" and it is, more or less, still there. Now a National Park, all of the old rides are gone except the park's crown jewel, a beautiful carousel with a giant Wurlitzer band organ. It still has its brass-ring machine too, but in these litigious times the park service doesn't dare actually use the thing.
Today, some of our crowd went over to Glen Echo to have a picnic, cool off and dance in the newly-restored Crystal Ballroom. Don't let anyone tell you that it's really the Spanish Ballroom. People call it that now because it's decorated in that goofy 20's-Spanish-Valencia-Theatre style, but in the Park's heyday it was the Crystal Ballroom, because it was right next to the Crystal Pool (which, today, we heartily wished was still in operation). One of the group mentioned that she could now understand why people once flocked out to Glen Echo--it really is a nice cool spot.
Almost every amusement park had a ballroom, since dancing was one of the favorite entertainments in the days before the second War.
Until, that is, you start dancing. The Ballroom was restored VERY faithfully--right down to the exclusion of air conditioning. There are lots of nice, wide-open windows. I noticed several things as we danced. One--people stick to what they know. When a tango is played, not too many people dance because no one knows how to tango anymore. The band played "Ich bin von kopf bis fuess aus Liebe eingestellt" (oh, sorry--American title, "Falling in Love Again") as a waltz. It's normally played as a foxtrot so everyone just went right ahead foxtrotting and falling over their feet because the rhythm wasn't right. Two--the Crystal Ballroom is evidently designed so that one circuit around the dance floor is about exactly the length of an average '20s popular song--about three minutes, or the length of a 78 rpm record. Three--a foxtrot or a waltz will make you sweat when it's over 90 degrees, but a Charleston will cause you to enter complete meltdown.
The shady picnic grove at Glen Echo is very pleasant and certainly a lot cooler and nicer than Baltimore's currently-broiling rowhouses, but after two hours' worth of dancing in 1926, I was once again thankful for the occasional modern convenience. All the way back to the city, I blasted the air conditioning in my modern Buick.
I am now taking a break from the writing of my multiple-choice Scan-Tron nightmare, to be administered tomorrow.
Today, I took a break before I even started work.
When people in the abysmally-hot cities of Baltimore and Washington wanted relief in years past, they went to the beaches. Unless, of course, they couldn't afford it or didn't have a car or (see previous post) didn't want to fart around for hours on the various forms of transit that could get you there. For those seeking less complicated respite from city heat, there were amusement parks.
Mostly built by the streetcar companies as a means of boosting revenue, amusement parks in the pre-theme-park era were generally right outside city limits, but were still cooler than the city streets. Most of them were in nice shady spots, preferably near water of some kind. You got on the streetcar, packed a picnic lunch and your children, and went for the day.
Baltimore had little amusement parks all over the place. There was Gwynn Oak with its famous Dixie Ballroom; Carlin's, which had the best funhouse around; Bay Shore Park--probably the most exciting, since it had a nice sandy beach, and two or three lesser establishments. All of them are gone now and mostly obliterated by time, although there's still a little bit of the beach left at Bay Shore along with the park's old central fountain, and the trolley station still waiting for a happy throng of visitors that will never again disembark from the #10 car.
Washington, which in those days tended to lag behind Baltimore in amenities, only ever had one amusement park. Glen Echo Park always advertised itself truthfully as "Washington's Only Pleasure Park!" and it is, more or less, still there. Now a National Park, all of the old rides are gone except the park's crown jewel, a beautiful carousel with a giant Wurlitzer band organ. It still has its brass-ring machine too, but in these litigious times the park service doesn't dare actually use the thing.
Today, some of our crowd went over to Glen Echo to have a picnic, cool off and dance in the newly-restored Crystal Ballroom. Don't let anyone tell you that it's really the Spanish Ballroom. People call it that now because it's decorated in that goofy 20's-Spanish-Valencia-Theatre style, but in the Park's heyday it was the Crystal Ballroom, because it was right next to the Crystal Pool (which, today, we heartily wished was still in operation). One of the group mentioned that she could now understand why people once flocked out to Glen Echo--it really is a nice cool spot.
Almost every amusement park had a ballroom, since dancing was one of the favorite entertainments in the days before the second War.
Until, that is, you start dancing. The Ballroom was restored VERY faithfully--right down to the exclusion of air conditioning. There are lots of nice, wide-open windows. I noticed several things as we danced. One--people stick to what they know. When a tango is played, not too many people dance because no one knows how to tango anymore. The band played "Ich bin von kopf bis fuess aus Liebe eingestellt" (oh, sorry--American title, "Falling in Love Again") as a waltz. It's normally played as a foxtrot so everyone just went right ahead foxtrotting and falling over their feet because the rhythm wasn't right. Two--the Crystal Ballroom is evidently designed so that one circuit around the dance floor is about exactly the length of an average '20s popular song--about three minutes, or the length of a 78 rpm record. Three--a foxtrot or a waltz will make you sweat when it's over 90 degrees, but a Charleston will cause you to enter complete meltdown.
The shady picnic grove at Glen Echo is very pleasant and certainly a lot cooler and nicer than Baltimore's currently-broiling rowhouses, but after two hours' worth of dancing in 1926, I was once again thankful for the occasional modern convenience. All the way back to the city, I blasted the air conditioning in my modern Buick.
posted by Daniel | 1:15 AM
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