Stag Night at Ted Jacobs – Dec. 13, 1954

Are there still stag nights and stag parties? Or have those terms dropped out of popular usage?

That's what I was wondering when I saw this ad for Ted Jacobs, which ran in the Dec. 13, 1954 Lorain Journal, promoting its special "For Men Only" shopping event. It's a great idea.

According to an online dictionary, a 'stag night' or 'stag party' is any party attended by men only. But in many other countries (such as Britain or Canada) it means a celebration held for a man shortly before his wedding and attended by his male friends. And we all know those can get, well, a little raunchy.

I had to chuckle at the layout of this page. Right above the Ted Jacobs ad is one for Eldred's featuring a grinning reindeer. And a male deer is commonly known as – what else? – a stag!

The ads reminded me of a scene from a Bugs Bunny cartoon called What's Cooking' Doc? in which the wise-guy rabbit is lobbying for an Academy Award. To convince the Academy voters that he deserves one, he tosses some film canisters of "some of his best scenes" to Smokey the projectionist and tells him to "roll'em." Unfortunately, that's not what starts spooling through the projector.

Which reminds me of a funny story.

It was late in my high school days when a few of my buddies invited me to accompany them to some kind of fund-raising event/party held at some local hall. Along with a raffle, there was going to be a buffet and a cash bar. It sounded fairly innocuous when I described it to my parents.

At the actual event, I remember that it was very smoky. It was mostly older guys, drinking, talking, etc. As a high school kid, I felt fairly uncomfortable, and it all seemed like a bad episode of Happy Days, one with the inevitable humiliation in store for hapless Richie Cunningham and his pals. 

While sitting there, my buddies and I noticed a rather hard-looking, older woman walk in accompanied by some sleazy-looking guy carrying a boom box. I wondered: who were they? But they sat down at a nearby table and helped themselves to the buffet (which was mainly fried chicken), so I didn't pay any further attention to them.

That is, until later when the lights dimmed and she turned out to be a stripper. Her partner manned the portable sound system and provided music to bump and grind by.

The whole thing was kinda seedy, although nobody seemed to mind. I kept waiting for Lorain's Finest to come storming in and yell, "This is a raid!"

Shortly after her performance ended, someone set up a movie screen and we were treated to a grainy stag film. I'll leave it at that. In fact, I did leave after a few minutes, and drove home in slack-jawed shock.

It was a night best forgotten. I told my parents it was a boring party and that not much happened.

But a few days later, I was in the basement doing something, and Dad happened to be down there too. Right in the middle of some small talk, Dad matter-of-factly said, "I heard she ate a lot of chicken." 

I looked at him and said, "Who?"

Then I saw Dad break into a huge grin. "The other night. At the party."

Gulp! I swallowed hard and started to stutter some kind of reply, when Dad just started laughing. "Was she pretty?" he asked.

"No, not really," I replied. "She was kind of tired-looking."

Dad saw that I looked a little anxious, and just kind of chuckled. "Don't worry about it," he reassured me. "Just don't tell your mother."

And that was the end of it.

How did he find out? Apparently someone he worked with at BF Goodrich was there, and recognized me – and ratted me out. But Dad was a good sport, and got a kick out of ribbing me. It was the first of many little bonding moments we would share over the next few decades.