I Am the Egg Man: 1938

Chickie C214 is ready for her close-up.

You just don't see haircuts like that anymore.

Here we have our egg collecting person, one Cosmo Kramer.

When I was six, my grandfather who lived with us ordered several dozen little yellow chickens (through a mail order catalog) because he decided he wanted to try his hand at the skill of raising our own poultry. My siblings and I were thrilled the day they were delivered by a mailtruck and proceeded to be totally engrossed in observing them grow and do what comes naturally. We checked our coop every morning for eggs which was much better than an Easter egg hunt and were rewarded with wonderful breakfasts, lunches and suppers of eggs. We scrambled (no pun intended) to be the ones who threw feed every day and fill the watertrays with fresh water. However, when the chickens' doomsdays arrived, we were somewhat jolted out of our euphoria to see that they were being murdered, singed of pinfeathers and dismembered. Talk about an "eye-opener" for us as to the ultimate purpose of our altruism to chickens. I must say though that they were scrumptious, unlike any chickens one might purchase today. A detail that stands out in my memory is the "decoys" of white porcelain and/or milkglass eggs that would be left on display in all the nests to encourage the chickens to lay (at least that was the legend at the time). Does anyone know if they still use the fake eggs to fool the hens? I have not seen them at antique shows. Too bad Mr. Nestler's first name wasn't Nestor. Carry on.