1920 FASHION MODELS

Narcotics: Pit of Despair DVD (1967) Drug Abuse Rehabilitation Video

Following a boy from his introduction to drug usage to his state of drug dependency, Narcotics: Pit of Despair frighteningly depicts his addiction and encourages abstinence from all drugs. According to the film, marijuana is a gateway drug that leads to harder drugs: chiefly heroin. Drug dependency destroys lives. Abuse leads to medical problems and run-ins with the police. The main character, Hank, learns this first hand, and is sentenced to rehab. After his release, Hank visits an old friend who uses drugs, only to learn that there is no end to his addiction. This film is a fascinating examination of the way drug use was viewed in the 1960s.

My Dad grew up Catholic, and I have a charming picture of him in his alter boy outfit looking angelic from the neck down, and devilish in the eyes. My Mom was a little more vague- "fire, brimstone, and holy roller" was her way of saying that in her rural Indiana upbringing they worshipped with what ever traveling preacher was in town at the time. Since she was not particularly affiliated with any sect, she was a pushover for my feisty paternal grandmother who was insistent that the children be raised under the Catholic holy trinity.

I loved, loved, loved church- the Latin mass, the rituals, the nuns, the beautiful church we attended (a miniature blond wood cathedral of sorts), lighting candles in the lady chapel, and most of all Monsignor Anderson, who was a family friend. But I was a skeptical child, and a bit willful, and slowly but surely doubts began to creep into my little brain. If the scapular I was never supposed to take off was really going to guarantee the Virgin Mother would come to purgatory to fetch me to heaven if I died wearing it, shouldn't it be made of something more permanent than the red felt and cardboard that ran dye all over my eight year old neck when I took a bath? And howcome my grandfather and the monsignor needed to have a shot of Irish Whiskey in the back room before 11 o'clock mass if this ceremony was so holy?

Further circumstances began to separate me from my beloved church. In high school, I had just two years of Latin under my belt before services were changed to the vernacular. Huh??? And then, as I was going away to college in 1971- the height of the women's liberation movement- I began to feel indignant on behalf of those nuns I'd cherished all my life. Why exactly was it that they could not say mass? And as a child of the hippie era (the original one, not the neo-hippie fashion statement that has nothing to do with living close to the earth) who was concerned about overpopulation (we won't mention personal sexual freedom) I was very concerned about the church's rigid stance about birth control and abortion. I was in a terrible personal crisis.

Thinking that perhaps I'd strayed too far from the teachings, I volunteered to teach catechism classes in the church where I'd been confirmed. Every week for three months I took a bus an hour each way to my hometown to teach 7 year olds out of the Baltimore Catechism. Big BIG mistake for me. As a freshman in college, I was way too unwilling to suppress logic to faith, so teaching from that book just widened the chasm that was growing between me and my religion. Finally, in a desperate last-ditch effort to retain the anchor of a faith I'd practiced for more than 20 years, I signed up for a comparative religion class. Surely studying Catholicism in conjunction with other religions would put everything in perspective for me.

And it did. But not in the way I'd hoped. The more I studied the differing forms of faith, the more I discovered that they were- in the most basic terms- quite similar. They taught you to be good people and good neighbors. To help others. To not harm people or property. To learn lessons from wise teachers. To think about the larger world around you. To put that world into the context of history.

To make a very long story shorter, basically what I figured out was that what most people look for in religion are these four things.

They want an answer to the question of how we came to be.
They want guidance for an acceptable code of conduct.
They want a community that accepts them, no matter who they are or what they've done.
They want comforting rituals.

With my own peculiar logic, studying how much religions are basically the same made me quite comfortable- for the next almost 30 years- practicing my little religion of one.

I am perfectly content to not understand how we came to be. I don't understand physics either, but that doesn't make me skeptical that physics exists.

I learned all those "moral" ways to act in church when I was young. I don't have to be Catholic, or any other religion, to know that we need to strive to be good, helpful, giving people for the world to progress in a positive way.

I belong to many communities where I thrive... I don't NEED one to validate my beliefs.

Over the years, I've developed many personal rituals... around gardening, holidays, seasons, people... I am not lacking in ritual.

I was content. Except for one little thing. When my mother was quite ill before she died, and when my father went though a personal crisis, and when crises befell close friends... I was missing the kind of ritual that is a physical manifestation of FAITH. Like lighting candles in the lady chapel at church. Or the way some will pin the photograph of a suffering loved one near a statue of Our Lady of Guadalupe. So there really was something missing. I didn't need the deity or the services. But I did need that specific sort of ritual.

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African Beads:
;The earliest Africans made beads as “fetishes”, charms, talisman and amulets for protection and adornments. The first materials were shell, stone, wood, bone, seeds, amber, ivory, teeth, clay, metals, etc. Beads were highly valuable and were also used as currency.
Trading could be done for food, livestock, etc. Beads evolve into a visual language that express rank, spirituality initiation, used to communicate culture value important to the people way of life. African people have had a special relationship with beads for thousands of years.
No other people on the planet used as many beads or in such abundance as African and the importance of the beads was not it shape, color, size or place of manufacture but the value that had been assign to it by privies generations
.Long before the first European return to Africa in the 1400’s century we were adorning ourselves with beads. Many of the beads are becoming increasingly rare and difficult to fine and some are no longer available, as worldwide demand for the beads increases.

" African Trade Beads":
this term typically applies to beads made predominately in European countries from the late 1400s through to the early 1900s, beads traded in Africa, Americas and other counties.
This "trade" period was from the mid 1800s through the early 1900s; millions of these beads were produced and traded in Africa. The Europeans dominated the African bead market.

The Beads were re- introduced to the American market in the late 1960s, by young peace core volunteer returning from Africa.
The beads became associated with the Hippie movement as symbols of love and peace. Today these beads are popular in contemporary jewelry and as collectable items .Millions are in private collections, bead and museums. All beads from the collection of MBAD/ABA African Bead Museum.

A blend of humor, satire, and fashion sense, this uniquely humorous look at trends in fashion throughout the ages will be the talk of the town. Forgotten Fashion is a fake history book of clothing trends that never really happened, but are based on actual fashion movements from the early 1900s until the present. Each entry examines the life and death of a supposed fashion trend while poking fun at the social climate of the times. With smart humor, a tongue-in-cheek academic tone, and a keen sense of style, this book will appeal to fashionistas, sophisticates, and anyone who keeps up with what's en vogue.