Alan Mays' photos with the keyword: catchphrases

"Keep Cool." A postcard published by D. Hillson in 1907.

An amusing postcard that draws upon the "Oh You Kid!" craze of 1909 for its humor. This card was a bit risqué for its time, suggesting that a husband might fool around with other women while his wife is away. The caption on the card comes from the song, " My Wife’s Gone to the Country! Hurrah! Hurrah! ,” which was one of the "Oh You Kid!" songs published as sheet music in 1909: My wife’s gone to the country, hurray! hurray! She thought it best "I need the rest" That’s why she went away She took the children with her, hurray! hurray! I love my wife, but oh, you kid! My wife’s gone away In this age of social media, it's difficult to appreciate just how popular this--nudge, nudge, wink, wink--idea of "I love my wife, but oh, you kid!" became as it circulated in print through sheet music, postcards, and newspapers. Jody Rosen, however, documents its wide-ranging influence in a fascinating article that appeared in Slate magazine. See " How a Sexed-up Viral Hit from the Summer of '09–1909–Changed American Pop Music Forever ." For some additional postcard and sheet music examples, see my Oh You Kid! and Its Variants album.

An early twentieth-century postcard with a shiny "Merry Christmas" greeting that's actually an attached metal piece. Why does the women in the illustration have a silly grin on her face and why is she holding a lemon, you ask? At the time this postcard was published, handing someone a lemon was a humorous way to say "skidoo" or "23 skidoo," meaning "scram" or "beat it." So those who knew about this 23 skidoo fad quickly realized that the lemon signified that this was a tongue-in-cheek greeting. For another lemon postcard with a backhanded Christmas greeting, see I'm Sending You a Lemon for a Merry Christmas . To learn how lemons came to be associated with the 23 skidoo fad in the early twentieth century, see Skidoo 23 Is Now 37 .

"What time is it down there?" "Just eleven." "It's twelve up here—you know eleven and twelve make 23." Handwritten: "Did this ever occur to you?" So what does the mother mean by yelling "eleven and twelve make 23" down at the couple hanging out on the hammock in the front yard at midnight? To understand the humor of this postcard from 1909, it helps to know that a fad about the meaning of the number "23" became wildly popular in the United States in the early twentieth century. Beginning around 1906 or 1907, "23"—along with "23 skidoo"—came to be used as a shorthand way of telling someone to "scram," "beat it," or "get lost," usually with a humorous or joking connotation. Referring to "23" in unexpected ways—as on this postcard or on a valentine —and even placing "23" in surprising places (like on the front of a painted automobile prop in a novelty photo) was a humorous way to let others in on the joke. So it's obvious that mom is keeping tabs on her daughter as she watches the couple from the second-floor window. And her reference to "23" makes it clear (to those in the know, at least) that she wants the guy to skedaddle. Postmark, address, and handwritten note on the other side of this postcard: Omaha & Ogden R.P.O. [ railway post office ], Apr 1, 1909. Miss Hazle Hainline, Grand Island, Neb., 222 W. 6th St. Hello Girlie, wish I could have had the pleasure to set and hear you sing and play tonight. How is mama and dad. Tonight is the first I have eaten since I left your place. Haven't been hungry. Mora. 113 Pub. by Keller Bros., Portland, Or.

A lemony postcard from 1906 that was connected to the "23 skidoo" fad that was popular at the time (notice the "23" on the hat or whatever it is that's on top of the lemon's head). To find out what lemons meant in the early twentieth century and how they were connected to 23 skidoo, see Skidoo 23 Is Now 37 . For more postcards, see my 23 Skidoo and Lemons Too album. The Lemon Oh, something that's yellow and egg-shape, not round! You buy by the dozen, in crates they are found; Oh, something that's handed out freely each day, "For yours" this portrait now comes to say.

Oh You Lobster! With all your faults tell us why Our love for you, you can't deny. For other lobsters, see To My Valentine, A Lobster I Am and Always Will Be and Oh! You Lobster .

"'100 and 23 for yours,' said the saucy little bird on Nellie's hat. Love's Young Dream ." The illustration on this postcard is based on a song, "The Bird on Nellie's Hat," that was popular when the card appeared in 1908, and the title of the book that Nellie is reading– Love's Young Dream –is a phrase that comes from the lyrics to the song. The bird's snide utterance–"100 and 23 for yours"–to the guy who's lurking behind Nellie is a reference to the "23 skidoo" fad that started around 1906 or 1907. Telling someone "23 skidoo" or "23 for you" was a shorthand way of saying "scram," "beat it," or "get lost" (I'm not sure whether the addition of "100 and" to the more typical "23 for yours" phrase had any extra meaning). For more "23 skidoo" postcards, see my Skidoos and Lemons album. Check out the sheet music for The Bird on Nellie's Hat (1906), which is part of the Lester S. Levy Collection of Sheet Music at Johns Hopkins University, or go to YouTube to see the lyrics and hear an Edison wax cylinder recording of Ada Jones singing "The Bird On Nellie's Hat" (1913).

For more information about this postcard, see Skidoo 23 Is Now 37 :

A postcard addressed on the other side to "Iva Appleyard, Guilford, Me," and postmarked, "Guilford, Me., Aug. 5, 1907." "Skidoo 23 is NOW 37. Turn around the card and I hand you a--." "I hand you a"—what? Based on a fad that became popular around 1906 or 1907, "skidoo 23"—or more commonly "23 skidoo"—was a shorthand way of telling someone to "scram," "beat it," or "get lost," usually with a humorous or joking connotation. If you "turn around the card" or rotate it so that the text is upside down (see below), you'll discover that the letters and numbers of "NOW 37" have turned into the word "LEMON" (this trick is known as an ambigram ). The sender of the card is telling its recipient that "skidoo 23" is "NOW 37." But "NOW 37" turns out to be a "LEMON" when the card is rotated. So the real message is, "I hand you a—LEMON" = "NOW 37" = "Skidoo 23." In an amusingly convoluted way, then, this postcard illustrated that being handed a lemon was the equivalent of telling someone "23 skidoo." Perhaps it was due to postcards like this one that "handing someone a lemon" became a way to say scram or get lost without an explicit reference to 23 skidoo. For an example of this, see With My Compliments . In any case, if a lemon is handed to you, you now know what to do! For an amazing compilation of information regarding the skidoo 23 fad, see the 23 Skidoo Postcards Web site, or go directly to the site's Lemons (NOW37) page.

This is a postcard addressed on the verso to "Mrs. D. P. Conklin, Highland Mills, N.J.," but otherwise there's no handwritten message, stamp, or postmark. A lemon with a Christmas greeting might seem like a work of Dadaist art to us today, but this postcard actually had a specific meaning in the early twentieth century when it was created. To "hand someone a lemon" meant—often with humorous or joking intentions—"scram," "beat it," or—in the terms of the fad it was associated with—"skidoo" or "23 skidoo." In another postcard example, this connection between lemons and skidoo forms the basis of a message on a Valentine's Day card (see below): "To My Valentine / 'Tis a lemon that I hand you / And bid you now 'skidoo,' / Because I love another— / There is no chance for you!" In a third instance, a postcard (below) depicts a hand reaching out to offer the viewer three lemons. You had to know, of course, that being handed a lemon signified "skidoo" in order to realize that the caption, "With my compliments," was meant sarcastically. So how did lemons become associated with skidoo? A fourth postcard (below) may provide the answer. The postcard is printed in bright yellow and green colors, and lemons appear in the middle of the card and in each of its four corners. The puzzling message on the card begins,"Skidoo 23 is NOW 37," and then continues, "Turn around the card and I hand you a—." Rotating the postcard so that the text is upside down reveals that the letters and numbers of "NOW 37" turn into the word "LEMON" (this trick is known as an ambigram , in case you were wondering). So, to put it all together, this postcard illustrated that being asked to skidoo—or more colloquially, telling someone "23 skidoo"—was the equivalent of being handed a lemon! And, of course, the reverse was true—if you received a lemon, you'd better skidoo!

Oh You Chestnut! When is a door not a door? When it's a-jar!! Your ancient ones are welcome. May they never seem new to us. "Chestnut," of course, can refer to an old, stale story or joke. See chestnut (joke) in Wikipedia and old chestnut in Wiktionary. Some nuttiness for the Weird Vintage Postcards group. See also: Oh You Lemon!

"Pickle Dill Etchings. If the earth weighs 200,110,000,000,000,000 pounds, what will the Milkey-way? Oh, you milk maid." This early twentieth-century humorous postcard starts out with a goofy heading, "Pickle Dill Etchings," which may have been used for a series of similar postcards. Below that is a riddling question that turns out to be a silly pun–"What will the Milky Way weigh?" And the exclamation at the bottom of the card–"Oh, you milk maid!"–extends the milk allusion but also refers to a song, "I Love, I Love, I Love My Wife–But Oh! You Kid!," that was all the rage in 1909 (for a discussion of how immensely popular it became, see Jody Rosen's fascinating Slate article," How a Sexed-up Viral Hit from the Summer of '09–1909–Changed American Pop Music Forever "). The "oh you kid" catchphrase also generated many other variations. For additional examples, see Oh You Lemon! , Oh You Chestnut! , and Oh! You Lobster .

"With my compliments." Why would someone be giving away lemons "with my compliments"? It helps to know that handing someone a lemon in the early twentieth century when this postcard appeared was actually a way to say "scram," "beat it," or in the parlance of the day, "skidoo" or "23 skidoo." For more information about "23 skidoo" and how it related to lemons, see Skidoo 23 Is Now 37 :

To My Valentine 'Tis a lemon that I hand you And bid you now "skidoo," Because I love another-- There is no chance for you! In the early twentieth century when this postcard was printed, to "hand someone a lemon" meant--often with humorous or joking intentions--"scram," "beat it," or--in the terms of the fad it was associated with--"skidoo" or "23 skidoo." For other postcards that make the connection between lemons and 23 skidoo, see the Lemons (NOW37) section of the 23 Skidoo Postcards Web site. How do you interpret the scene on this card--is the woman handing the lemon to the man, or has the man just given the lemon to the woman?

What means this shoe so very new? Why, "23" skidoo, skidoo! But if you'll be my Valentine, This shoe, my love, will not fit you. The "23 skidoo" fad--a joking way to tell someone to "scram" or "get lost"--was popular in the 1900s and 1910s. For an amazing compilation of information regarding the fad, see the 23 Skidoo Postcards Web site. Postmarked: Newark, N.J., Feb. 13, 1909. Sent to: Mr. Miles Tarbell, Groton, Tompkins County, New York. Message: Yours sincerely, Belle D.

"Skiddo! A noise like a snake signifying motion in opposite direction without delay. Intimates that your absence is preferable to your company. It conveys the admonition that in case you are slow in making your exit, you will be assisted on your journey. Fills a long felt want. Like the sign $ indicates dollars so skiddo is always known by the numerals 23."

"Skidoo. This is not a one way ticket to heaven. Return same to Bedford Roll-Arena, one mile north of Bedford, Pa." Lou Brooks, in his terrific book, Skate Crazy: Amazing Graphics from the Golden Age of Roller Skating , pp. 42-43, shows illustrations of similar cards and explains, "The dreaded 'Scram' and 'Skidoo' card! Just like at any party, the hosts liked to keep things at the rink moving with interesting games, often turning the rink into somewhat of a social laboratory. Floor ushers, acting out their version of traffic cop, would slip these cards to unsuspecting couples, urging them to skate the second half of the dance with someone they had never met." I'm not sure, however, if this card was used in the same manner, and I'm not certain what to make of the "This is not a one way ticket to heaven" warning.