Alan Mays' photos with the keyword: twenty-three

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.

"'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!

This rotated version makes it easier to read the handwritten message: "We tended the Iowa Picnic here last Saturday. Saw lots of folks from Iowa that I knew. 10,000 people there. I can't tell when we will leave here. Too many places to go & too much to see to get away very soon. We expect to visit an old friend of mine that lives at Santa Ana, 30 miles south. We may move out here some time. Love to all. Goodbye, Leni & Mame" For more information about this real photo postcard, see a full version and a cropped version of the card:

Here's the message that's written on this real photo postcard (to read the original handwriting more easily, see the rotated version of the card): "We tended the Iowa Picnic here last Saturday. Saw lots of folks from Iowa that I knew. 10,000 people there. I can't tell when we will leave here. Too many places to go & too much to see to get away very soon. We expect to visit an old friend of mine that lives at Santa Ana, 30 miles south. We may move out here some time. Love to all. Goodbye, Leni & Mame" At first glance, it seems like Leni, Mame, and about 10,000 others attended what must have been a huge "Iowa Picnic," which presumably took place somewhere in Iowa. But what about their plans to visit a friend located thirty miles away in Santa Ana? Isn't Santa Ana a city in California? Fortunately, the results of a Google search for Iowa Picnic and California provided the answer. I found a posting about Iowa Picnics - Long Beach and Elsewhere that gives a brief history of the get-togethers that were held beginning in 1900. So many Iowans moved to California that the picnics attracted thousands of transplanted Midwesterners--as many as 100,000 attended during some years in the 1940s! So it sounds like Leni and Mame were enjoying their stay in California as they visited friends and met fellow Iowans at the picnic. Although there's no date on the card, I suspect they were traveling sometime in the late 1900s or early 1910s. For additional views of the handwritten message and photo, see a rotated version and a cropped version of the card:

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.

A postcard parody of a membership card for the "Down and Out Club" and an advertisement for the Powers Photo Engraving Company, "fastest engravers on earth." Down and Out Club of the United States of America No.: Back number. Date: Not yet but soon. This is to certify that after a thorough examination Mr. R. G. Brubaker has been elected a member of the Down and Out Club of America. His usefulness being gone is subject to the Skidoo Treatment. A. Hasbeen, president. To the woods. Not yet but soon. Walla-walla. 23 skidoo. Copyright 1906 by the Powers Photo Eng. Co., Fastest Engravers on Earth, 154 Nassau St., N.Y.

A postcard parody of a membership card for the "Down and Out Club" and an advertisement for the Powers Photo Engraving Company, "fastest engravers on earth." Down and Out Club of the United States of America No.: Back number. Date: Not yet but soon. This is to certify that after a thorough examination Mr. R. G. Brubaker has been elected a member of the Down and Out Club of America. His usefulness being gone is subject to the Skidoo Treatment. A. Hasbeen, president. To the woods. Not yet but soon. Walla-walla. 23 skidoo. Copyright 1906 by the Powers Photo Eng. Co., Fastest Engravers on Earth, 154 Nassau St., N.Y.