Treating Tennis Elbow
Tennis elbow isn’t just a pain for those who enjoy swinging a racquet—it also sidelines people who never set foot on a tennis court but spend hours at a keyboard or frequently stress their wrists and forearms in other ways.
Dr. Mark Sobor, a family holistic health physician in Chicago, provides these symptoms, and solutions, for treating tennis elbow:
What is it?
Tennis Elbow, or lateral epicondylitis, is a repetitive use injury of the wrists and forearms that results in pain or inflammation of the outside of the elbow. Almost anyone can develop it.
What happens?
Tennis elbow is caused by spasms in and around the supinator and extensor muscles of the forearm. You use supinator muscles to turn your hands out, as if holding a bowl of soup. The extensor muscles come into play during a backhanded hit in tennis.
When not properly stretched or strengthened, these muscles tighten, pull against the atttached tendons, and eventually cause inflammation and pain.
An ounce of prevention
Try these techniques to stretch and strengthen your forearm and shoulder muscles before use, whether playing tennis or simply sweeping the floor:
1. Press and stretch (soft tissue release). Hold your arm straight out in front of you, with the palm facing downward. Place the opposite hand on your fingers. Push down until fingers are pointing towards the ground. Continue to apply gentle tension until fingers are pointing back towards your body. Repeat with other arm. Applying pressure to the muscles as they are being stretched help release soft tissue.
2. Massage helps reduce muscular tightness and accompanying tension on the tendons.
3. When it comes to tennis, consult a trainer about proper hitting technique to avoiding overstraining your muscles.
A pound of cure
Acupuncture to treat key trigger points in and around the forearm can successfully release muscles spasms. Instead of steroid therapy, opt for homeopathic injections of inflamed tendons and muscle spasms to decrease pain and swelling in tissues and joints.
Dr. Sobor is affiliated with Chicago Healers http://www.chicagohealers.com/, which hosts a website featuring articles and recommendations from holistic health experts.
Classic Covers: For the Birds
We’ve all been fascinated, even envious, of our feathered friends, and our cover artists have helped us our with our bird watching. From these beautiful nesting orioles to daunting birds of prey, Saturday Evening Post and Country Gentleman magazine covers run the gamut—and the seasons—of bird watching. Come fly with us!
Man Feeding Birds by R. Bolles
I’m not familiar with artist R. Bolles, but this is the cover that got me started on this quest. I knew there must be more beautiful covers with birds, and there were many. The elderly man feeding the birds with such gentleness reminded me of a better-known cover by Norman Rockwell the same year (below).
Farmer and the Bird by Norman Rockwell
The “Farmer and the Bird” is a Rockwell favorite. There is a touching contrast between the delicate fledgling and the hard-working ruggedness of the farmer. Rockwell loved old hats and well-worn clothing and kept a supply of such items for his models. If he was going for a strong, rough look, he picked the right model and knew how to make him look even more so.
Harbinger of Spring by John Clymer
Oh, to be a bird in a beautiful John Clymer landscape! If the two little girls didn’t already know it was spring from the fact that dad’s tractor is running again in the background and from the achingly beautiful apple blossoms, Mr. Robin Redbreast is hailing the season from his perch. If you need a more detailed look, you can click on the cover.
South for the Winter by John Clymer
Artist Clymer again, because who did nature better? This time it’s mallards flying south for the winter. The vastness of the sky is beautifully executed with the pastels of dusk (or dawn). You can almost feel that new nip in the air. A family has pulled the station wagon over to observe the feathered flight and if you want a closer look, you can click on the cover. This is a migratory flyway in the lakelands of Alberta.
Snowy Owls by Don Bleitz
“Through Don Bleitz’s photographic skill let’s go calling on Mr. and Mrs. Snowy Owl in their country home near Edmonton Alberta. That’s the Mr. gazing at you from his living room, and the Mrs., smartly arrayed in her chic polka-dot ensemble, is just getting home from somewhere or other.” –Post editors, September 14, 1957. Yes, in the 1950’s, most Post covers were artist renditions rather than photographic, but happily, this photo slipped through.
Owl and Rabbit by Paul Bransom
Born in 1885, Paul Bransom was a well-known wildlife painter. His Post and Country Gentleman covers boasted everything from leopards to foxhounds. This one shows the wild side of nature with the great owl honing in on a rabbit who senses he is about to become dinner. Oh, and Bransom did great roosters – I have to share one more (below).
Fancy Rooster in Mirror by Paul Bransom
Country Gentleman was a sister publication to the Post, and another great spot for a wildlife illustrator to land. I couldn’t resist this preening rooster checking himself out in a mirror from 1923. Okay, okay – you’re handsome, already. Reprints of Country Gentleman covers, like those from the Post, are available at curtispublishing.com.
The Secret of Making Beautiful Cars In The 1950s
Originally published August 7, 1954
I consider myself an ordinary garden-variety American, and I think I can show enough common faults and foibles to prove it. Along with most people, I remember faces and forget names. Sometimes I overestimate the authority of two pairs, and the fellow with three-of-a-kind lets me have it in the customary eye. When I hit a golf ball I am sorry to say that it does not always stay on the fairway, and I have seen mallards fly off in excellent health after I have fired both barrels right at them. My son tells me that the way I am trying to spoil my grandson is typical of all grandfathers. I don’t like to write letters, I like baseball and I love automobiles.
But I split with my fellow citizens on one point. Most Americans are at least a little excited over the appearance of new-model automobiles each year. This is where I must leave you. I cannot get aboard because, considering the share of all cars my company produces, the odds are almost even that your new car is one I designed myself and put out of my life at least twenty-seven months ago. Because of my job, I have to live two or three years apart from a great American interest. I can’t talk to the neighbors about their new cars with anything like their fresh enthusiasm, and while this gives my work a somewhat lonesome touch, I will not say it is tragic.
On the contrary, I like it that way. I have my own new cars too. They are exciting beauties to me, even though they may be mere scratches on a paper pad or full-scale projections on one of our car-size blackboards.
Let me say quickly that when I refer to myself I am merely using a shortcut to talk about my team. There are 650 of us, and collectively we are known as the Styling Section of General Motors. I happen to be the founder of the section and the responsible head, but we all contribute to the future appearance of GM automobiles, and it hasn’t been too long ago that we settled what your 1957 car will look like. [Note: this was written in August of 1954.]
It is obviously important to the company that three years from now the public shall accept and like what we are doing today. We can’t afford big mistakes and we don’t even like little ones. Consequently we have to know more about you than you do about us. We do. For one thing, we know that you car buyers today are willing to accept more rapid forward jumps in style than you were twenty years ago. This suits me, because I believe we are entering an era of major design improvement. The further we move away from the old concept of the automobile as a motorized buggy, the greater the emancipation of design. Today we are ready to treat the American car not as an outgrowth of a wagon but as a vehicle with its own character, purpose and individuality.
The public’s greater tolerance has already been expressed in color —have you recently looked down from a tall building onto a large parking lot? It is a mosaic of color, bright and light. People are also making up their minds that all American cars are good, so why shop for anything more than attractive, pleasant lines and an established worth in the trade in market? I can’t quite go along with all that, considering my preference for GM cars and since one color on the road today strikes me as something that belongs on the underside of a railroad bridge.
However, I can be grateful for the increasing leeway of design that car buyers have given us, and at the same time appreciate that they ride herd on us constantly. May I point out, though, that you are not the only disciplinarians? The engineers quite properly will not let us interfere with the efficiency and soundness of their power plants. If we wanted to try our hands on a three-wheeled car, I am sure the engineers wouldn’t encourage us. They think three-wheel cars are inherently dangerous. They won’t give us a rear engine, either, until problems like weight distribution are solved, and only then if there is a compelling advantage to the owner.
The division heads, management, and sales, also have a policy voice on what we offer. It is up to the Styling Section to persuade them of the beauty, utility and probable acceptance of what we present. On top of that, we must bear in mind passenger safety, and finally come up with something that is within cost limits. In fact, if we can save a dollar a car we have made a big contribution.
Highway regulatory bodies keep us fenced in. If we wanted a single headlight on a car, the states would prohibit it, since many of them control the number, brightness, position and height of head-lights. They exercise similar control over tail and stop lights. As far as I know, we might make cars longer, but other forces step in here. Parking problems have already dictated maximum reasonable lengths, and I believe all the longer cars will pull back a few inches in the next few years. Just plain artistry also is limiting. We once made a Cadillac that was so big it looked wrong, and we dropped it. Another time, I ordered a design made up before going on a trip, and it was ready when I got back. I took one look at it and instantly had the fenders moved twenty-two inches and the whole body lowered three inches. It, too, was a wrong one.
I am not complaining about limitations. We have plenty of room left, and it seems to me we have come a long way already. I am reminded of the distance by two things. The first one startles me. It is the act that, by August of this year, General Motors had produced 31,000,000 automobiles for whose design I have been responsible. The second reminder is in my office. It is scale model of the first sedan I ever designed for the company, a 1927 LaSalle V-8. I have a great affection for the old crock, but I must admit it is slab-sided, top-heavy and stiff-shouldered. At the same time there is something on it that explains very simply what I have been trying to do and hope I have done in the last twenty-eight years.
On the line we now call the beltline, running around the body just below the windows, there is a decorative strip something like half a figure 8 fastened to the body. This strip was placed there to eat up the overpowering vertical expanse of that tall car. It was an effort to make the car look longer and lower.
My primary purpose for twenty-eight years has been to lengthen and lower the American automobile, at times in reality and always at least in appearance. Why? Because my sense of proportion tells me that oblongs are more attractive than squares, just, as a ranch house is more attractive than a square, three-story, flat- roofed house or a greyhound is more graceful than an English bulldog. Happily, the car-buying public and I consistently agree on this.
In 1926 I took up the challenge of streamlining our automobiles and, while the design pendulum has had some back-and-forth swings, the main direction ever since has been toward the lower and longer car. It might be interesting to measure the changes that have occurred.
The 1928 LaSalle was three feet shorter, and the 1928 Cadillac 61 was two feet shorter, than the 1951 Cadillac 60 Special. The height of today’s car is ten inches less than the old LaSalle and fourteen inches less than the 1928 Cadillac. In both cases we have gained about ten inches in width and, of course, a substantial amount in both the front overhang—from wheel to bumper—and the rear overhang.
The question of chrome brightwork always comes up in automobile discussions. Now, I am not particularly committed to chrome; in fact, I think it would be interesting if the brass industry would provide us with some warm-colored brass that wouldn’t have to be polished. Maybe it will someday. But when chrome arrived as a decorative trim for the industry, it was imperative that I find out how people really felt about it. Consequently I had to turn ten of my top staff into temporary private eyes. They were dispatched to key cities to pose as newspaper reporters among used-car lots and new-car salesrooms, where the car buyer seriously registers his reactions by selecting cars. They asked hundreds of questions about customer response to or rejection of chrome trim. The conclusions were in favor of chrome, more so on used-car lots, slightly less in new-car salesrooms. This difference may be accounted for in the fact that used-car buyer average slightly under thirty years of age, whereas new-car buyers average three and one half years older.
Certain evolutions in design have always struck me as inevitable. Long ago I was convinced that the elongation of both front and back fenders would eventually merge them to produce a single flowing sideline from front to back. I was equally sure this front-to-back bodyline would lie rounded vertically so that the beltline would present a continuous highlight, a very important visual factor. On our handmade initial models we test the presence of this highlight by playing strong lights on the body from every direction. And even in 1928 I felt strongly that windshields would slant farther and farther, and I hoped that someday we would be able to move the corner pillars out of the way to provide really sweeping vision. That day has arrived, and our 1954 cars carry the panoramic windshield that wraps around the comers to pillars that have been offset from the straight vertical.
Usually, in making gains in appearance, we get better engineering results too. In order to lower the automobile as we have over the years, it was necessary to take the back seat off the axle where it once perched and to cradle the car body between the four wheels, I believe everyone will agree that as a result we have a safer, more comfortable automobile.
A very minor switch on that incident occurred with the 1953 Cadillac but the only damage was to me, since a friend of mine is now convinced that I haven’t the slightest idea of what I’m going. This Cadillac owner asked me why we had put dummy holes at the forward part of the back fender line. I explained to him that they were not dummy holes, that they were vent holes we had placed there to flow air over the brakes in case excessive use caused enough brake heat to create a little brake fade, or loss of grabbing power.
“They’re not dummy holes?” he said. “All right. Let’s see you put your finger through any one of them.”
I tried it and discovered he was just as right as I was embarrassed. Information on the change had been sent to me, but I had been away and hadn’t yet seen it. what had happened was that the production people had improved the brake so much that they ventilation holes became unnecessary, and they had logically decided not to cut a lot of useless holes in the steel stampings, but simply to pain the spots black.
This might be a good time to confess, too, that I have been deeply affected by airplanes. I was so excited by the P-38 Lockheed Lightning when I first saw it that I contrived a viewing for members of my staff.
We had to stand thirty feet away from it because it was still in security, but even at that distance we could soak up the lines of its twin booms and twin tails.
That viewing, after the war ended, blossomed out in the Cadillac fishtail fenders which subsequently spread through our cars and over much of the industry as well. The so-called fishtail descendant of the P-38 on the Cadillac started slowly because it was a fairly sharp departure. But it caught on widely after that because ultimately Cadillac owners realized that it gave them an extra receipt for the money in the form a visible prestige marking for an expensive car.
A further point about the fisthtail was this helped give some graceful bulk to the automobile, and I have felt for a long time that Americans like a good-sized automobile as long as it is nicely proportioned and has a dynamic, go-ahead look. Conversely, I have never seen any evidence that needle-front or thin models were to the American taste. I think the history of front grilles bears me out on this. Aside from being a logical help to the engineers in placing the radiator at an efficient location, the front grille has always given American cars a comfortably blunt, leonine front look. This is good, as long as the car as a whole is poised right. There was a time when automobiles tiled down in front as if they intended to dig for woodchucks. Subsequently they went tail-heavy and appeared to be sitting up and begging. Now I think we have them in exactly the right attitude of level alertness, like an airplane at take-off.
[“I Dream Automobiles”, August 7, 1954]
Fall Travel: Michigan’s Upper Peninsula
The Sep/Oct issue of The Saturday Evening Post features Editor-in-Chief Stephen C. George’s family memories of scenic New Hampshire in “Living Colors.” New England’s autumn is world renowned, but other places in the U.S. have equally impressive vibrant fall colors, picturesque landscapes, and enchanting forests. Here, we explore Michigan’s Upper Peninsula in the first of a series profiling autumn destinations off the beaten path. Do you have family memories of fall foliage travel? Let us know at [email protected].
With two national forests, America’s first National Lakeshore, and dozens of state parks and woodlands, Michigan’s Upper Peninsula offers as many beautiful fall locales as anywhere in the U.S. Furthermore, it is one of the most isolated places in the mainland. The UP makes up one quarter of Michigan’s land area but is home to only three percent of the state’s population, making it secluded enough that visitors can enjoy natural serenity without getting overrun by “leaf peepers.” Here are some of the most notable places in the UP.
Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore
This destination in north central UP on Lake Superior is worth visiting at any time. There are hundreds of miles of trails, sandstone cliffs, waterfalls, a seemingly endless beach, and sparkling turquoise blue water. Unlike most Great Lake beaches that are simply sandy, Pictured Rocks’ shoreline is strewn with literally billions of small rocks, each a different color, and a reminder that Superior sits on much more rocky terrain than its cousins. Spring brings a myriad of wildflowers, summers are a pleasant 70 degrees, and winter affords snowmobiling and cross country skiing opportunities.
However, Pictured Rocks becomes positively enchanting in fall. Trees such as beech, aspen, maple, and birch put on a show each autumn, their vibrant colors complemented by a palette of evergreen, sandstone, and shimmering blue. An interesting species is the Tamarack, a deciduous conifer tree. Although this may sound like an oxymoron, it is one of only a few trees in the world that sheds needles in fall, changing from a dark evergreen to a golden yellow in the process. Due to the moderating influence of Superior, Pictured Rocks is one of the last places in the UP to experience leaf change even though it is at the northern edge, making it available later in the year. Perhaps best of all, cooler temperatures mean that fall is a time when visitors can enjoy the park without being pestered by what locals call the “UP State Bird”–the mosquito.
Waterfalls
One special thing about the UP is its unique geology. It sits at the southern edge of the Canadian Shield, a feature named because it extends from the Great Lakes all the way around the Hudson Bay into the arctic, giving it a shield-like appearance. In the last ice age, receding glaciers stripped the Shield of most of its topsoil, exposing massive quantities of bedrock. This means water doesn’t easily carve out riverbeds in the UP, but instead travels over unyielding rock. The end result: waterfalls. The UP has over 300 of them, including Tahquamenon Falls , the second largest east of the Mississippi.
It is hard to think of a better example of nature’s beauty than a waterfall surrounded by fall foliage, and this is a sight that welcomes visitors regardless of location on the peninsula. Majestic Tahquamenon is in the east. In the west, Ottawa National Forest offers Agate Falls (see photo at top) and Bond Falls. Chapel, Sable, Munising, and Miners Falls are among over 20 waterfalls in Alger County, which is also the home of the Pictured Rocks. Eagle, Silver, and Canyon Falls await in the northern Keweenaw Peninsula, and Pemene, Rapid River, and Haymeadow Falls exist to the south.
Keweenaw Peninsula
Keweenaw is the Upper Peninsula’s, well, upper peninsula, and its remoteness makes it consistently listed among the top places in America for leaf color road trips. Some say that it is the best place in the U.S. mainland to see another type of fall color—the aurora borealis—for a number of reasons. Keweenaw is, of course, northern. Its small population makes light pollution low. Fall brings clear night skies and one can see for miles across the lake, and it is the season when the aurora begins to pick up.
Keweenaw’s history also makes it worth a visit. It was once home to the largest copper deposit in the world, which American Indians started mining before the Egyptians built the pyramids. Occasionally, visitors stumble across the ancient hammers and tools they used. Copper really boomed in the 1800s, and historical mining ruins are everywhere. One last thing worth seeing is Brockway Mountain Drive. This scenic road travels along the Keweenaw Fault, a remnant of a billion-year-old continental rift system, and offers endless panoramic views.
Special thanks to Brody Block at Pictured Rocks, Charlie Hopper at pasty.com and the good people at michigan.org.
Carrot Souffle—Light
Carrot Souffle—Light
Makes 8 servings
- 2 pounds carrots, peeled and chopped
- 1/2 cup granulated sugar
- 1/4 cup low-fat sour cream
- 3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
- 2 tablespoons butter, melted
- 1 teaspoon baking powder
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- 3 large eggs, lightly beaten
- cooking spray
- 1 teaspoon confectioners’ sugar
[Tip: Try experimenting with spices by adding 1/2 teaspoon of cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice, or orange zest.]
Preheat over to 350 F.
Boil carrots until tender, about 15 minutes. Place carrots in food processor and process until smooth. Add sugar, sour cream, flour, butter, baking powder, vanilla, and salt. (Optional: Add additional spices suggested above.) Pulse to mix.
Coat 2-quart baking dish with spray and spoon mixture into dish. Bake for 40 minutes. Let cool. Sprinkle with confectioners’ sugar and serve.
The Plight of the Censor
In 1946, Howard Hughes released a tawdry little western called “The Outlaw.” The movie nominally concerned “Billy the Kid” but was primarily a exhibit for Jane Russell’s scantily covered breasts.
The Production Code Authority demanded the film be cut before its release. In retaliation, Hughes staged a campaign of faked protest, with fictional letters to the media demanding the film be permanently banned. Well, Americans can only stand so much of that sort of talk. The public was soon demanding to see this “controversial” work. When it was finally released to a grateful nation, it proved extremely profitable.
When studio owners realized that censorship was hurting their business, the PCA began losing its control over the industry. Now it would be up to the state and municipal review boards to control what was seen in the nation’s movie houses.
Mrs. Helen Tingley was working for one of those review boards in 1947. Employed by the state of Maryland to approve motion pictures for the state, she watched an average of eight movie a day.
She was not a religious fanatic, or a prude, as Stanley Frank discovered when he interviewed her for Headaches of a Movie Censor. Instead, she appeared to be a woman of sound judgment and a good sense of the outrageous.
Frank joined her in the viewing room to watch some of the latest movies being reviewed. The final feature of the day, he reported, had been an embarrassingly brainless romance.
“Under the law,” Mrs. Tingley said, “we can reject pictures that are sacrilegious, obscene, indecent, immoral or inhuman. Too bad we can’t bar [the last film] for inhumanity . . . to the audience.”
“I’d like to scream after a whole day of B pictures,” Mrs. Tingley confessed, “and I frequently do. Since taking this job I’ve become nearsighted and I get raging headaches, but I’m crazy about it. I’ve never done anything that’s more fun. Maybe this proves I’m cracking up, but if the Governor didn’t reappoint me, I’d pay the state to let me stay on as a censor.”
She loved the work. And yet she was opposed, in principle, to all censorship, and she despised “the professional bigots who sponsor it to undermine personal liberties.”
“I like to justify my position by thinking it serves the same purpose as the cop on the corner. He and I patrol our beats to prevent offenses against society.
The ultimate argument for censorship stresses the need for protecting children from the screen’s harmful influences. Mrs. Tingley believes the whole thing is a false alarm. “Every expert I’ve consulted tells me violence and horror presented dramatically have very little effect on children.”
“Hollywood is always bleating that it’s persecuted by bluenoses who want to stifle freedom of expression. If the producers listened to the criticism of thoughtful people, maybe they wouldn’t be under the constant threat of censorship. This business of knocking out cheap, sordid pictures that make crime and sex attractive, then tagging on a sappy, happy moral in the last hundred feet to conform to the code, is a trick that doesn’t fool anyone.
“Although I dislike the sound of the phrase, I think there ought to be a ceiling on sin—that is, a limitation on the quantity of it presented. One gangster picture doesn’t cause a crime wave, but the repetitive effect is bad when they come in cycles, as they always do.”
If she was working today, she’d have made an excellent film reviewer. She had already learned not to make the mistake of many reviewers: endlessly watching movies in isolation.
“It’s necessary to see movies where they are meant to be shown—in theaters, where public opinion can be gauged. After all, the public decides what is offensive and acceptable. I think anyone who sees a great many pictures is apt to have a more tolerant attitude toward morals than the occasional movie-goer. This has nothing to do with personal standards or private prejudices. It’s simply a case of sitting through so many stinkers that when a picture comes along with a fresh idea expressed imaginatively, you’re so grateful that you have a tendency to pass a questionable scene just because it’s done well. If there is tittering and giggling in a theater, I know a slip has been made. Sure, it’s happened loads of times.”
While she scorned the men who passed sleazy sex films among the cheap theaters in Baltimore, she saved her real outrage for the major studios that still employed any cheap convention that would make a buck.
“I came to the censor job with no axes to grind,” she confides, “but I’ve got a dandy one now I’d like to bury in Hollywood’s skull. I think its treatment of psychiatric themes is disgraceful. The movies have created the impression that all mental patients are violent nuts with homicidal tendencies… The movies should show the dramatic struggle made by patients to restore themselves to society. I suppose that wouldn’t dish out enough horror to fatten the box office though.”
“The headaches of a censor’s life,” she grouses, “are not inconsistencies or tricky interpretations of policy. Endless cliché and corny situations are what get you down. I’m going to throw something the next time a lovers’ quarrel winds up with an oaf, male or female, saying, “If that’s the way you want it—“ I’m fed up with juvenile stars, particularly when cast as band leaders, with old guys and dames trying to act cute, and with crazy scientists who make apes out of men, or vice versa. I get ill when I see actresses who try to look like cocker spaniels — you know, the Lauren Bacall and Lizabeth Scott hairdo — and tough males like John Garfield throwing their sex around.”
There are compensations, however, for the exquisite boredom Mrs. Tingley suffers in performance of her duty. She knows how to halt an elephant stampeded. (“Just yell, ‘No cookie,’ It always works for Tarzan.”)
She can tell instantly whether a picture had been made on a lavish or limited budget if the action calls for someone to fall down a flight of stairs. (Stunt men get $150 for taking a dry dive on stone and only $75 for the same job on wood.) She knows an actress is on the down grade when she is tricked out in a negligee that was worn in another picture.
“One nice thing about this job,” Mrs. Tingley says wistfully, “is that it makes you an incurable optimist. You’re always hoping tomorrow will bring a British film, or even an American movie with a new idea.”
Read “Headaches of a Movie Censor” by Stanley Frank
Migraines in the News
Are you one of nearly 30 million Americans who suffer migraines? Check out 5 promising treatments.
Migraines matter, disrupting everyday routines at home and work when sufferers have to disengage from families, friends, or job responsibilities.
“Migraine is an extraordinarily common brain disorder,” says Robert Kaniecki, MD, director of the Headache Center, chief of the Headache Division, and assistant professor of neurology at the University of Pittsburgh. “Approximately 13 percent of American adults are affected by bouts of the disabling headache, robbing them of valuable time from work, family, home, or social activities.”
Fortunately, new and better ways to relieve and even prevent the life-disrupting attacks are on the horizon.
The first major advance in treating migraine hit the U.S. market in 1991 with FDA approval of sumatriptan (Imitrex, GlaxoSmithKline)—a revolutionary prescription drug option that not only eased migraine symptoms, but stopped the attacks.
“Over the ensuing decade, the drug class known as triptans expanded to 7 products, providing relief to millions of migraine sufferers,” explains Dr. Kaniecki. “During that same time period, two anti-epilepsy drugs, Topamax and Depakote, were also added to the short list of daily drugs with proven benefit in reducing the frequency of migraine attacks.”
Subsequent research, however, had been disappointing—until now.
“It has been nearly 20 years since significant breakthroughs have been made in treating migraine headaches,” Dr. Kaniecki continues. “But we now seem poised for a second wave of new migraine treatments. Many are novel developments while others involve technologically innovative delivery systems for older drugs. For migraineurs who fail to respond to current drug therapies, these new options are reasons for optimism.”
Dr. Sheena Aurora, director of the Swedish Headache Center and assistant professor of neurology at the University of Washington School of Medicine concurs.
“I am excited about new migraine treatments,” Dr. Aurora told the Post. “As a practicing headache specialist, I still find patients who believe that migraine comes from stress. We make them aware that migraine is a biological disorder—they are born with a hypersensitive brain—and stress is one of many triggers. Studies confirm a genetic role in migraine and genomics and proteonomics may yield highly targeted therapies. In addition, we believe that newer trials using topiramate and botulinum toxin A in chronic migraine will pave the path for future research.”
Here are 5 promising new therapies to stop migraines in their tracks that are worth keeping an eye on:
A dissolvable powder form of diclofenac (Cambia). The nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drug, currently available in tablets, helps reduce migraine-related inflammation and pain.
The Sumavel DosePro (Zogenix). Released in 2010, the innovative device delivers needle-free injections of sumatriptan (Imitrex) by “pushing” the drug into tissue just under the skin. Subcutaneous sumatriptan is easy to use and provides consistent and fast relief, according to Dr. Aurora. Nasal and patch delivery systems for the migraine drug are still in development. Doctors already prescribe sumatriptan tablets, shots, and intranasal solution that relieve migraines by blocking painful nerve signals and restoring swollen blood vessels back to normal size.
LEVADEX, orally inhaled dihydroergotamine (MAP Pharmaceuticals). Migraine sufferers are often unable to digest oral medicines. Now in late stages of clinical testing, LEVADEX is dispensed via an oral inhaler for fast, consistent, and sustained relief of migraine pain and other symptoms. Dihydroergotamine is presently available in nasal and injectable forms.
Calcitonin gene-related peptide (CGRP) antagonist drugs. A novel class of prescription medicines may treat migraines with fewer side effects than conventional therapies by blocking the release of CGRP, a type of protein involved in nerve and blood vessel irritation during a migraine attack. The CGRP antagonist telcagepant (Merck) is in late stages of development.
Transcranial pulse generators. These electronic devices are applied to the skull early in a migraine, sometimes shortening the attack. Surgically implanted devices may generate internal electrical signals to help treat chronic pain, Parkinson’s disease, and migraine headaches.
What’s Your Favorite Rockwell Cover?
The Saturday Evening Post editors want to hear your choice for best Rockwell cover, from the ones shown here, or a personal favorite. Tell us your favorite in the comments below!
Norman Rockwell’s April Fools Covers
After six grueling months of hard work on his famous Four Freedoms, Rockwell did a whimsical cover to relax. Although lighthearted in nature, Rockwell’s 1943 April Fools cover still features the painstaking amount of detail for which the artist was known, packing odd and amusing details into almost every square inch. The cover concept proved so popular with readers that Rockwell did two more such April covers for that decade, in 1945 and 1948. Today, readers still delight in scrutinizing these covers—and even find new errors from time to time. Can you spot all of them?
If you would like to enlarge a cover, click on its image below.
April 1943
- The principal April fooleries in the painting are.
- The trout, the fishhook and the water, all on the stairway.
- The stairway running behind the fireplace, an architectural impossibility.
- The mailbox.
- The faucet.
- Wall-paper upside down.
- Wallpaper has two designs.
- The scissors candlestick.
- Silhouettes upside down.
- Bacon and egg on the decorative plate.
- The April-fool clock.
- The portraits.
- Ducks in the living room.
- Zebra looking out of the frame.
- Mouse looking out of the mantelpiece.
- A tire for the iron rim of the mantelpiece.
- Medicine bottle and glass floating in the air.
- Fork in-stead of a spoon on the bottle.
- the old lady’s hip pocket;
- The newspaper in her pocket.
- Her wedding ring on the wrong hand.
- Buttons on the wrong aide of her sweater.
- Crown on her head.
- Stillson wrench for a nutcracker in her hand.
- Skunk on her lap.
- She is wearing trousers.
- She has on ice skates.
- No checkers on checkerboard.
- Wrong number of squares on checkerboard.
- Too many fingers on old man’s hand.
- Erasers on both ends of his pencil.
- He is wearing a skirt.
- He has a bird in his pocket.
- He is wearing roller skates.
- He has a hoe for a cane.
- Billfold on string tied to his finger.
- Milkweed growing in room.
- Milk bottle on milkweed.
- Deer under chair.
- Dog’s paws on deer.
- Mushrooms.
- Woodpecker pecking chair.
- Buckle on man’s slipper.
- Artist’s signature in reverse.
March 1945
- Apples on maple tree.
- Different-color apples.
- Baseball among apples.
- Pine boughs.
- Pine cone sh
- ould point down under bough.
- Horse-chestnut leaves.
- Grapes.
- April 1st comes on Sunday, not Monday.
- Penguins don’t fly.
- Halo.
- Nest on phone.
- Different-color eggs.
- Phone wire on wrong end of receiver.
- Different or wrong color butterflies.
- Books on tree.
- Castle in landscape.
- Lighthouse and ship.
- Earmuffs.
- Fur collar on velvet jacket.
- Two different designs on shirt.
- Shirt buttoned wrong way.
- Life jacket.
- Three hands.
- Cigarette and pipe used at same time.
- Collar and necktie on bird.
- Fly-casting reel on bait-casting rod.
- Cloth patches on waders.
- Rod upside down.
- Alligators as roots.
- Cobra in mandolin.
- Ribbon on mandolin.
- Post heading on wrong side of magazine.
- Snow scene.
- Horizons different on two scenes.
- Horns on mouse’s head.
- Animal head on turtle.
- You’re wrong; there are blue lobsters although they are
- extremely unusual freaks of nature.
- Tomato picture on plum can.
- House slippers on skis.
- Shells.
- Dutchman’s-breeches.
- Lady’s-slipper.
- Buttercup.
- Thimbleweed.
- Bachelor-buttons.
- Poison ivy.
- Signature upside down.
- Skis without backs.
- Lead sinkers on line should be below floater.
- Floater upside down.
- Red should be at top of floater in right position.
April 1948
- Two kinds of molding on cupboard.
- North American Pileated Woodpecker head on crane’s body.
- Coffeepot spout upside down.
- Barbed wire instead of clothesline.
- Insigne on back of fireman’s helmet.
- Green and red lights re¬versed on ship’s lantern.
- Beast crouched on upper shelf.
- Cup not hanging by handle.
- Electric bulbs growing on plant.
- Head of little girl on man’s bust.
- Rat’s tail on chipmunk.
- Penholder with pencil eraser.
- Top of brass vase suspended.
- Face in clock.
- Candle where kerosene lamp should be.
- Sampler dated 1216.
- Winter seen through left window, summer through right.
- Antique dealer’s head on dolls.
- Nine branches on traditional seven-branch candelabra.
- Girl’s hair in pigtail on one side, loose on other.
- Titles on books vertical instead of horizontal.
- Girl’s sweater buttoned wrong way.
- Mouthpiece on both ends of phone.
- Phone not connected.
- Goat’s head, deer’s antlers.
- No shelf under books.
- Lace cuff on man’s shirt.
- Five fingers and thumb on girl’s hand.
- Gun barrel in wrong place.
- Saddle on animal.
- Potted plant on lighted stove.
- Girl’s purse is a book.
- Only half a strap on girl’s purse.
- Skunk in girl’s arms.
- Sea gull with crane’s legs.
- Stovepipe missing.
- Mona Lisa has halo.
- Mona Lisa facing wrong way.
- Abraham Lincoln with General Grant’s military coat.
- Stove has April Fool on it.
- Hoofs instead of feet on doll.
- Little girl sitting on nothing.
- Rogers group is combination of soldier from “Our Hero” and girl from “Blushing Bride.”
- Brass kettle has two spouts.
- Spur on antique dealer’s shoe.
- Mouse and ground mole conferring.
- Ground mole’s tracks in wooden floor.
- Dog’s head on cat’s body.
- Raccoon’s tail on eat’s body.
- Ball fringe standing straight up at angle.
- Stove minus one leg.
- Two kinds of floor.
- Signature reversed.
- Last name spelled wrong.
- Flowers growing in floor.
- Girl’s socks don’t match.
“Adventures of an Idealist” by Isaac Bashevis Singer
“‘I want to be Rockefeller!’ he cried. ‘I want to be Greta Garbo’s lover!’ And for five hundred dollars, I must make his foolish dreams come true.”
Read “Adventures of an Idealist” by Isaac Bashevis Singer
Classic Covers: Football is Rough on Everyone!
Are you ready for some football? Since 1900, The Saturday Evening Post has featured football and football fans on its covers, so grab a cold one and some chips and enjoy!
Rainy Football Game by Douglas Crockwell
Are you ready for some football? Since 1900, The Saturday Evening Post has featured football and football fans on its covers, so grab a cold one and some chips and enjoy!
Quarterback Pass by Maurice Bower
Maurice Bower (1889-1980) was an artist who could capture action: racing horses, men jumping hurdles and, of course, a quarterback making a pass. He was a medical illustrator for the army in World War I. He did fourteen covers for the Post, and this one from 1935 takes you right to the heart of the action. Love the strain on the guy’s face.
Tackled by Norman Rockwell
Omphf! Norman Rockwell shows just what a rough sport this can be. After this hard tackle in 1925, somebody is going to have a sore belly…if not a cracked rib or two. And this is just a kids’ game.
Dog on the Field by Lonie Bee
Players aren’t the only ones who have a rough time of it. The ref has a hard job too, especially when Spot decides he’s in to play. This cover by artist Lonie Bee is from 1941.
Ref Out Cold by Stevan Dohanos
Talk about a tough job! Artist Stevan Dohanos “witnessed this catastrophe at a Yale-Dartmouth conflict last year,” wrote the Post editors in 1950. “Everybody but the wounded man was amused, and Dohanos reflected callously, Ah a delightful cover scene!” The poor ref in real life was Leo Weinrott who “suffered disengaged leg muscles when a young giant accidentally steam-rollered over him. He tottered on about his terrifying duties until, stubbing a cleat while running backward, he had to be removed from the battlefield on a litter.” Fortunately, there’s a happy ending: “This fall,” noted the editors, “he survived the Yale-Cornell and other Donnybrooks with hardly a contusion. He thinks the cover is droll.”
Cheerleaders After a Losing Game by Lonie Bee
And don’t think being a cheerleader is all fun and games, either. When you cheer your heart out and the team loses, it’s a sad day. These cheerleaders (all male!) from a 1939 cover are completely bummed. Even the adorable mascot is down and out.
Sitting on the Wrong Side by Gene Pelham
We would never forget you, the great American football fan. How you have suffered! You bundle up against the cold, tough it out and root for your team and your little blue pennant is being overwhelmed by the sea of yellow pennants belonging to the winning team. Great facial expression by little known artist Gene Pelham. It says it all. There’s always the next game!
Making the Movies Behave
It began with a kiss. To be precise, The Kiss: a brief Edison film of a man and woman cuddling, talking and eventually kissing. For two seconds. It’s a brief, silent, grainy scene of innocence, but it outraged some Americans in its day and inspired a small but determined group who continually denounced movies. The motion-picture industry learned to ignore their outrage. They became so good at ignoring them they didn’t hear a rising chorus of outrage from mainstream America.
To be fair, the motion-picture industry had a troubled childhood. It entered this world without parents: an unplanned birth of opportunity, it grew up wild, guided by little else than the need to make a buck. Oh, a few noble souls tried making an art out of motion picture. But for every D. W. Griffith who wanted to give it the legitimacy of the stage, there were scores of amateurs who relied on sex, violence, and cheesy melodrama to make their movies profitable. They could make a reliable profit with cheap humor, pointless nudity, fantastic fistfights, threadbare plots with scheming orientals, rapacious black men, conniving Jews, and brainless women: movies used every element that guided burlesque and killed vaudeville.
Public outcry grew so loud that New York City established a Review Board in 1915 to select which movies could be shown in public theaters. Other cities and states followed their example. By 1930, one third of American movie audiences were watching only the movies these boards approved or had edited.
The Review Boards made little impact on the industry. But when the press played up several scandals in the industry, it began affecting ticket sales. Suddenly Hollywood was listening. It hired Will Hays, a former bagman for the Teapot Dome gang, to write a code that defined what could and could not be shown in movies.
But as J.P. McEvoy wrote in 1938:
the Do’s and Don’ts handed down from a California mountaintop were no more effective than their illustrious predecessors, handed down from Mt. Sinai. The Do’s and Don’ts admitted of too many interpretations, and there was no final authority with punitive powers. Hays could advise, protest and threaten; but after all he was only an employee, and the boss could always get another boy. It was the League of Nations all over again; there was a policy, to be sure, but no police.” [The Back Of Me Hand To You” Dec. 24, 1938]
The Hays code had become so powerless by 1934 that MGM could release Tarzan and His Mate which showed three minutes of nude swimming by Johnny Weismuller and Maureen O’Sullivan. If the scene would get an “R” rating today, imagine how scandalous it must have seemed 65 years ago. (If you look up the video on the internet, be advised it is Not Safe For Work.)
That same year, the Catholic Church in America came up with something more effective than the Hays code. It formed the Legion of Decency to review motion pictures. It didn’t use the courts or police, and it didn’t appeal to movie producers. Instead it went directly, and powerfully, to the consumer by forbidding any Catholic to attend the movies they condemned.
Meetings were held, speeches made, sermons delivered, articles were printed in all the Catholic newspapers and magazines, and the campaign spontaneously taken up by the general press as huge parades were held and millions of Catholics throughout the country arose to their feet in churches on Sunday morning and solemnly repeated aloud a pledge to stay away from all places of amusement which showed indecent and in a moral motion pictures and those which glorified crime or criminals.
When the major studios saw early effects of the Legion’s code, it jumped on the bandwagon to create the Production Code Administration (PCA), which enjoyed a power over movie-making Hays could only have dreamed of. According to Stanley Frank, who wrote about film censorship in 1947,
The P.C.A., which supervises the products of most major studios from the inception of story ideas to final cutting, lays down rules governing screen treatment of crime, sex, religion and antisocial malfeasances. [Headaches of a Movie Censor, Sep. 27, 1947]
To illustrate, Frank quoted one of the directives sent from the PCA.
To: Mr. Samuel Goldwyn
Re: Dead End [1937, starring Humphrey Bogart and directed by William Wyler]
Pages 4. We suggest you eliminate, where it occurs, the action of [the character named] Spit actually expectorating.
Page 32. Please omit the word “louse” from Angel’s speech.
Page 8. and several of the pages which follow we recommend you deleted the business of people stepping on cockroaches. It is our experience that such action is always offensive to motion-picture patrons.
Page 16. We would like to recommend, in passing, that you be less emphatic throughout in the photographing of this script in showing the contrast of conditions of the poor in tenements and those of the rich in apartment houses.
In 1938, the United States had censoring boards in eight states and 260 cities in addition to the Legion of Decency. But there was no national board. We were the only country besides Canada without one. Elsewhere in the world, governments were carefully censoring movies coming out of the United States, not just for our famous sex-and-violence formula, but also for political implications. With World War II just one year away, McEvoy wrote,
political censorship is growing more and more difficult, as Fascist nations censor for Communism, Communistic nations censor for Fascism, and both gang up on democracies, who, in turn, gang up on the Communists and the Fascists. You have the militarists, who censor anything savoring of antiwar, and the pacifists, who object to armament races; and in addition to the battle of ideologies, the American producer must also straddle or avoid a thousand subtle nationalistic prejudices.
Wild west pictures are rejected in Greece because they are too violent, and The Prisoner of Zenda was barred “because it ridiculed royalty.” Kissing is restricted by the Japanese, because it shocks them. Among other cuts recently ordered by Japan was a line in Seventh Heaven in which Marie says; “Well, I suppose there are all kinds of wedding nights.” According to the logical Japanese, this statement is either true or not true. Obviously it is true, so it isn’t news, and it wastes footage.
Australian bureaucracy seems to be sensitive, for Paramount News was ordered to delete the following: “Mr. White is a Government servant and has plenty of time for other things.”
Poland decided that the song “Old Man River” in Show Boat was Communistic and cut the lines about “Darkies working while the white folks play, getting no rest ‘til the judgment day,” “because of labor-class struggle which could be improperly interpreted and apt to around indignation of local public.”
Alcatraz Island was rejected by Sweden “on account moral tendency” whatever that might mean. But Estonia is my pet. When those fearless little people rejected Double Wedding, the only reason they deigned to give was “Worthless.”
Persimmon Cookies
It’s hard to beat a chocolate chip cookie. But if you’re looking to add a little seasonal flavor to your next batch, try this fall/winter favorite.
Persimmon Cookies
(Makes about 3 dozen)
- 1/2 cup butter or margarine
- 1 cup sugar
- 1 egg, beaten
- 1 cup persimmon pulp
- 1 teaspoon baking soda (add to pulp)
- 2 cups all-purpose flour
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
- 1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
- 1/2 tablespoon cloves, ground
- 1 cup raisins
- 1 cup nuts (walnuts or pecans)
Preheat oven to 350 F.
In large bowl, sift together dry ingredients (flour through cloves). In another large mixing bowl, cream together butter and sugar. Add beaten egg and pulp to butter mixture and combine well. Add sifted dry ingredients and mix just until combined. Fold in raisins and nuts.
Drop tablespoons of dough onto ungreased (or parchment-lined) cookie sheets. Bake for 8-10 minutes. Cook on racks.
Written by Pearl Curran…or by Ouija Board?
A reader recently e-mailed the Post archives, asking for a story by Pearl Curran that appeared in November 1919. He had learned about Pearl in Smithsonian magazine and became so fascinated, he said, it “made me want to read the Curran’s work.” Peral Curran enjoyed brief popularity as an author in the 1910s. What made her so big was the fact she was a medium.
Spiritualism had become hugely popular the late 19th century as American began holding seances to converse with the dead. In the 1910s, though, the Ouija Board became popular. It didn’t require a number of people around a table. In fact, it could be used by just one or two people.
If you don’t know, an Ouija board displays letters of the alphabets, numbers, and the words “yes” and “no”. Participants rest their fingers on a heart-shaped pointer and ask questions. When a “spirit” so desires, it moves the pointer to letters spelling out answers.
After Pearl Curran lost her father around 1912, her friends persuaded her to try contacting him with a Ouija board. She didn’t reach her father, but something just as incredible happened. One night the pointer spelled out a spirit’s name, “Patience Worth”, who wanted to communicate with Pearl. And communicate she did. “Patience Worth” had lived in the 1600’s and had much to tell, and dictate to her “vessel” Pearl Curran.
Over time, “Patience Worth” dictated poems, plays and entire novels. The volume of work and time authenticity of the dictations convinced many skeptics, and Pearl became a celebrity, with crowds coming to hear her relay the works of “Patience Worth”. Prominent writers, psychologists, journalists, and skeptics tried to prove this was all nonsense, but none succeeded. In fact, some of the best minds of the time were convinced that “Patience Worth” was indeed writing though Pearl.
However, in 1919, a story by Pearl Curran was accepted by The Saturday Evening Post. Entitled “Rosa Alvaro, Entrante” (“Enter, Rose Alvaro”) it was Pearl’s own work, written without any help from her spirit, Patience Worth.
The plot would have been interesting to Post readers who knew Pearl Curran’s history. A bored clerk named Mayme, who sells hosiery at a department store, is fed up. “There’s nothing but this forever,” Mayme complains to a co-worker friend, Gwen. “I’m sick of seein’stockin’s and thinkin’ feet…I know every day by heart and they ain’t nothin’ more for me to learn.” Bored quite literally to tears by a dull job and even duller room at “Mrs. Winthrop’s home boarding and rooming establishment,” Mayme visits a clairvoyant. A spirit named Laughing Water speaks through the clairvoyant and insists that another spirit named Rosa Alvaro (“a beautiful Spanish lady”) has watched over Mayme since childhood. Rosa Alavro’s spirit wants the bored sales girl to follow her as a clairvoyant. “You will be big lady, Laughing Water say.”
Enter, Rosa Alvaro. Mayme begins to slip into the Spanish accent and free lifestyle of the spirit, to the nervousness of her friend — and to the fascination of Mr. Peacock at work. “She’s everything I want to be,” Mayme tells Gwen. “I can’t be nothin’. What’s the use of me? Nobody ever sees me. I tell you, you shan’t stop her!”
Concerned friend Gwen goes to a psychologist. “There’s a man in it sure. No woman goes nuts any other way. Now there’s the dope. What’s the cure? If you got one trot it out.” These working gals can be rather blunt of speech.
Is Mayme a clairvoyant or a multiple personality? Oddly, these were the very questions asked of the author, Pearl Curran. To which there was never a definitive answer.
There was an answer for Mayme in Pearl’s story, though. Mayme confides to her friend that it was all a game. “I was sick of myself. I wanted to feel, feel like a woman that somebody cared about.”
Was Pearl Curran revealing herself in this story? Those who believed that Patience Worth wrote through Pearl Curran, chose to ignore the story in the Post and continue believing that the author was the real thing. The literary output from her spirit, they explained, was just too good, and too successful, for an ordinary St. Louis housewife. And Pearl Curran herself? In spite of the story published by the Post, her literary career never took off.
4 Steps to Safe Supplements
A dozen ingredients in widely available supplements are linked by clinical research or case reports to serious heart, liver, and kidney problems and should be avoided, according to a recent investigation by Consumer Reports.
On CR’s “Dirty Dozen” list of dangerous compounds are: aconite, bitter orange, chaparral, colloidal silver, coltsfoot, comfrey, country mallow, germanium, greater celandine, kava, lobelia, and yohimbe.
In the US, supplements are considered as foods. Current laws require the FDA to prove that a supplement is harmful, rather than charging its manufacturer to prove the supplement is safe and effective, as is required with drugs.
In 2004, the FDA banned one supplement ingredient (ephedrine alkaloids) based on data showing it posed an “unreasonable risk” for illness or injury, particularly in people with heart failure and high blood pressure.
To find supplements that are most likely to help, and not harm, your health:
Talk to your health care providers about the products you use and the ones you are considering, especially if you are pregnant or nursing, take medicines for a chronic disease, or plan to have surgery.
Look for “USP Verified” on the label. The United States Pharmacopeia sets standards for the quality, purity, and strength of dietary supplements and posts a list of verified products on its website at www.uspverified.org. USP testing is voluntary.
Report problems. Tell your health care providers if you experience any symptoms after starting a supplement. To alert the FDA about serious side effects, go to the FDA website at http://www.fda.gov/medwatch or call 800-332-1088.
Do your homework. Be wary about supplement claims in ads, on TV and by sales staff. Seek out reliable sources for assessing supplements, including www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/druginfo/herb_All.html and nccam.nih.gov/.
“Screwtape Proposes A Toast” by C.S. Lewis
Written in 1959 by C.S. Lewis (29 November 1898 – 22 November 1963) of The Chronicles of Narnia fame, “Screwtape Proposes a Toast” is a follow-up to his very popular Screwtape Letters. It is among the most creative pieces of fiction in the last century.
Screwtape is a demon who schemes to bring more souls into Hell. But Screwtape’s plans often backfire, particularly when intended victims realize someone is playing on their weaknesses. Once they recognize temptation, they find it easier to resist.
Often frustrated, Screwtape responds to defeat with new strategems and an eager pursuit after another soul. The faith of C.S. Lewis was so enduring and all-embracing that even the demons in his imagined inferno were incapable of losing faith.
Read “The Screwtape Proposes A Toast” by C.S. Lewis, published December 19, 1959.