I don’t remember a time when I didn’t like vintage.
Of course, I didn’t always know what that was. But when that container full of hand-me-down clothes arrived from our never-met cousins in California, I was in heaven. Gaudy paisley and Hawaiian shirts were just my style.
When I moved to La Crosse, vintage was all I could afford. I developed my style in the garages of La Crosse, picking up old furniture and refurbishing it.
Vintage really grabbed hold when I discovered auctions. Soon, my house couldn’t hold all the wondrous things I was accumulating.
That’s how I ended up in my sister Therese’s backyard last weekend as the co-presenter of a vintage sale. I hauled my rooster collection, vintage table cloths, cast-off canister sets and old suitcases to be unloaded into canopies in her backyard. At sale’s end, much of what I brought there ended up back in my car.
I was thinking of all those vintage treasures as I drove down Hwy. 52, headed for home. And that’s when I started noticing the old water towers.
Hampton has one. So does Zumbrota. Austin, Minn., where I grew up, has two.
But La Crosse doesn’t have any.
I’ve lived here for 37 years and this is the first time I noticed that we don’t have water towers. I guess it’s all that spring-fed water that makes our beer so great — no need for water towers.
Still, I wish we had one. There is something about a water tower that screams 1960s teen comedy. You just know the school’s quarterback and his friends are going to climb up there and write something on the tower and then run away just before the cops get there.
So no water towers here, but plenty of vintage. Stay tuned and I’ll soon have details about my own vintage sale June 5-7. No water towers, but there will be some vintage roosters.