
My cousin Bruno, circa 1955, bored and tired and sleeping on the family bar in Dundalk, Md.
Must have been Unhappy Hour.
If you lean close to the screen, you can almost smell the second-hand smoke and the funky water in the sink where they cleaned all the beer glasses.
Then again, it may have been the odor of the pony he rode around the bar.
(Update: Salad Mom - that's her on the bar stool as a young girl - informs me that the corner of the bar was where she and Bruno would watch Saturday morning cartoons. That's what was happening at the time. I stand corrected. I do not, however, regret the error.)