We Live Here, Too
We Live Here is a new series running on the Fine Living (a.k.a. HGTV for yuppies) channel dealing with out of the way restaurants, bars and activities in certain cities. Out of curiosity, last night we tuned into the installment which profiled my native city of Phoenix, a bizarre experience which Christopher has hilariously detailed here. My main problem lied in how the show had, as guests, a trio of supposedly diverse Phoenicians (including one local politician) — but all three had this myopic “I like this, so everybody else must like it, too” kind of viewpoint. Talk about annoying.
Belle of the Beach
The L.A. Times has a good story on Marion Davies, specifically the gloriously tacky Santa Monica beach compound that William Randolph Hearst built for her in the ’20s (thanks Christopher!). Although the main buildings in the compound are no longer standing, area residents want to refurbish and reopen the place as a community center. The article also has a good bio on the actress — do people still think she was a talentless bimbo? Guess so.
Magazines? So 20th Century
Slate’s Jack Shafer ruminates on what makes a magazine great and selects Chicago-based Stop Smiling as a shining example in a world of dross. I gotta look into that. Although I now get most of my non-book reading done online, there’s an intimacy in holding and paging through a nice, smart mag which is definitely missed staring slack-jawed at a monitor.
I could so relate to the opening paragraphs in that article, having been something of a magazine junkie awhile back. Reflecting on publications I subscribed to in the years 1990-95: Rolling Stone, Spin, Raygun, The Village Voice, The Nation, Utne Reader, Entertainment Weekly, Artforum, MacWorld, Wired, Interview, Harpers Bazaar, Details, The New Yorker. Of those, only Entertainment Weekly remains a regular fixture in our mailbox (although the mag, having gotten progressively dumber in the last few years, is straining my last nerve).
Notes on Freelancing
Work-wise, I’ve been having a lot of balls in the air at once lately. And it’s showing up in the lack of updates to this page. Sorry.
Speaking of which, a veteran illustrator provides some great advice in 17 lessons in 17 years of freelancing (via Drawn!). I’ve been doing this for coming on three years now — and I still feel more like a slumming househusband than a proper freelancer. The part where I get stuck is in the self-promotional aspect of this biz. The combination of not being a natural salesperson and being easily discouraged leads to much frustration; a boxful of unsent promo postcards is testament to that. I would also add a point about the importance of having a “kill fee” for first-time clients (especially individuals). It saves a lot of headaches in the long run. Meanwhile, I’m still waiting to have a really good year where a client doesn’t flake out on me.
Having a good website also helps a lot — check this one for Canadian illustrator/letterer Ray Fenwick. I wish I had as distinctive a style. Neat stuff.
Gruesome Twosome: Feelin’ Mellow Edition
Lani Hall: “Love Song”
LP: Sun Down Lady, 1972
Nanette Natal: “Knowing You”
LP: Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow, 1969
Today I’m digging the kind of music that comes across like a cup of warm coffee on a Sunday morning — mellow, yet invigorating. Lani Hall’s “Love Song” was recorded shortly after the singer left Sergio Mendes & Brasil ‘66, and based on this tune it was apparent that she desired to sound as little like her former band as possible. Producer Herb Albert (soon to marry Ms. Hall) was going after an easygoing L.A. vibe here, with a little bit of funkiness and a haunting quality in the lady’s voice. I don’t know much about Nanette Natal, but apparently early in her career she made a splash as a teen folk prodigy in the Janis Ian vein. “Knowing You” is quite an extraordinary song, starting out introspective and quiet before it launches into a simmering groovy ’60s vibe. Both of these are short-but-sweet overlooked gems, and I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.
Cow Cow Boogie
There’s something fresh and different, yet oddly familiar, about the drawing of grazing cows adorning Safeway’s new milk carton packaging. As soon as I saw them, I told Christopher that somebody at Safeway obviously likes Charles Harper! Compare Harper’s illustration from the 1958 Betty Crocker’s Dinner for Two Cookbook at right with the milk carton illo below.
More art by the fabulous Harper can be browsed at the flickr Charles Harper illustrations fanclub.
Tin Ears
There exist few DVDs that I would choose to buy instead of rent; the Walt Disney Treasures count among them. Earlier editions of these sets have gone out of print and now fetch a pretty penny (especially The Complete Goofy, which sells for $75-100 on eBay). Having missed out on the Behind the Scenes at the Walt Disney Studio one when it came out in 2002, I lucked into getting it last week on eBay — for ten bucks! I most looked forward to the set’s 1941 feature The Reluctant Dragon, a movie which previously had been rare as hens’ teeth to see. Starring Robert Benchley as himself touring the then-new Disney Burbank studios., the film was coproduced by RKO and has the easygoing charm of that studio’s grade-B musicals and comedies. Sure, the behind-the-scenes aspects come across as artificially stagey, but you do get a great sense of the studio’s close knit and jovial working environment (it must have been a blast working there in the ’40s) and the early Technicolor photography is gorgeous. Ironically, the film reaches a dull spot with the animated short of the same name, an unengaging tale of a wimpy dragon (although I got a little thrill out of the dragon’s mincing, pansy mannerisms).
The next Disney Treasures wave (due out in December) hasn’t been officially announced yet, but the forthcoming titles all have Amazon.com pre-order listings — Your Host, Walt Disney, The Complete Pluto, Vol. 2, The Hardy Boys, and More Silly Symphonies (1929-1938). Can’t wait for the Silly Symphonies one! Regrettably it looks like they’re already double-dipping, with a 1965 Disneyland special on Your Host, Walt Disney previously appearing on the 2001 Disneyland U.S.A. set. More info at ultimatedisney.com.
Indestructibles 3
What anal-retentives do for fun — every so often I like to go through my iTunes library and take note of examples where I have three or more versions of the same song. These are the “indestructables,” songs that hold up to being done by several different artists. Assembling the latest batch resulted in lots of Bacharach, Motown, and other ’60s pop — although I don’t know why I have four renditions of “Feelin’ Groovy”, since honestly I find that song too grating and cutesy-poo. Six “Walk On By”s is more like it. Outstanding. What are your indestructibles? (art is from Ethel Smith’s Hit Party vinyl LP cover)
(There’s) Always Something There To Remind Me — Lou Johnson, Martha Reeves & The Vandellas, Naked Eyes, Sue Raney
Aguas de Marco — Antonio Carlos Jobim and Elis Regina, Stan Getz, Trio Mocoto
Aquarius/Let the Sun Shine In — The Fifth Dimension, Diana Ross & The Supremes, James Last
Baby It’s You — The Beatles, The Shirelles, Smith
Baby, I Love You — The Ronettes, Andy Kim, Cher
But You Know I Love You — Bill Anderson, Dolly Parton, Evie Sands
Crying in the Rain — The Everly Brothers, The Partridge Family, Rockpile
I Say a Little Prayer — Burt Bacharach, Martha Reeves & The Vandellas, The Renaissance, Brasilia Modern Six
I Want You Back — Jackson 5, Esso Trinidad Steel Band, Graham Parker
I’ll Plant My Own Tree — Eileen Wilson, Margaret Whiting, Judy Garland, Patty Duke
I’m Gonna Make You Love Me — Madeline Bell, Bryan Hyland, Nick DeCaro
Love So Fine — The Carnival, Roger Nichols & The Small Circle of Friends, The Four King Cousins, Tony Hatch and Jackie Trent
Make It Easy On Yourself — Burt Bacharach, Dionne Warwick, Jerry Butler
Mas Que Nada — Ella Fitzgerald, Oscar Peterson, Sergio Mendes & Brasil ‘66
Put Yourself In My Place — The Supremes, The Isley Brothers, Chris Clark
Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head — Quarteto Forma, The Renaissance, Jimmy Ruffin
Reach Out For Me — Burt Bacharach, The Carnival, Lou Johnson
Rio — Lucio Alves, Paul Winter, Sylvia Telles
She’s Got You — Loretta Lynn, Patsy Cline, Timi Yuro
Spinning Wheel — Barbara Acklin, Chris Clark, The Flaming Ember, The Peter Covent Band
Sugar and Spice — The Cryan’ Shames, The Searchers, Tony Hatch
Take Me In Your Arms (Rock Me A Little While) — Eddie Holland, Chris Clark, Kim Weston
The 59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin’ Groovy) — The Golddiggers, Paul Desmond, Harpers Bizarre, Tony Hatch and Jackie Trent
Ticket To Ride — Alma Cogan, The Carpenters, Mystic Moods Orchestra
Trust — Paul Williams, The Peppermint Trolley Co., Roger Nichols & The Small Circle of Friends
Walk On By — Connie Francis, Dionne Warwick, Enoch Light, The Four King Cousins, The Renaissance, Sue Raney
Without Her/Him — Blood, Sweat & Tears, Julie London, Triste Janero
You’re The One — Petula Clark, Tony Hatch, The Cookies
No Way To Hide Your Prying Eyes
Slate.com delves into Judging Your Friends By Their Netflix Lists (via Hacking Netflix). Although the article belabors the point about the five-star ratings system, it does touch on the voyeuristic thrill of checking out which DVDs your friends have lined up. I’ve gotten a lot of good ideas off them.
Anyone who’d like to become my Netflix Friend is welcome to do so by sending an invite to biz(at)scrubbles.net. We have the four-out-at-a-time plan, with myself having a queue for three deliveries to Christopher’s separate queue for one. C. tends to put the newer films on his (short) list so they get here faster — but my Friends never see that. Instead, they get my unwieldly queue filled with Mystery Science Theaters, weird documentaries, crappy TV shows, old Disney movies and the occasional Criterion disc.
Yellowed, Stained, Might Be Worth Something
Another phase of my stuff reduction program has begun at eBay. You’ll recall that for the past several months I have been selling off my collection of excess Russel Wright American Modern dinnerware. Disappointingly, most of the pieces sold for 25-50% less than how much I bought them for in the ’90s (and I bought them cheap!). Plus, packing them for shipment and schlepping these huge boxes to the post office wound up being a total headache. Now that that’s over, we’ve started selling miscellaneous smaller items — mostly paper ephemera courtesy of our generous friend Julie. Among the items I have up for sale this week is my vintage pair of red leather Converse high tops that I’ve saved since 1986. Those might be profitable, unlike the Russel Wright.
That out of the way, I want to write about some of the neater retro-weblogs seen lately. I found Waffle Whiffer Zone via Bubblegum Fink. WWZ posts on semi-forgotten advertising characters of the past, such as Pizza Hut Pete. He recently did a writeup on Big Yella, who adorned boxes of Kellogg’s Corn Pops in the late ’70s in between Generic Cowboy and Poppy Porcupine (An aside on Poppy, surely one of the stranger cereal mascots ever: we were watching Mysterious Skin, and I was gratified that the film, partially set in 1983, showed a Corn Pops box with the porcupine. A little detail, I know, but little details really count.) Through WWZ I found Tiki Ranch, another worthwhile retro-themed weblog. Finally, there’s Swapatorium — which has been around for awhile, but oddly I never came across it until performing a Google search for Jim Palmer’s old Jockey underwear ads a few weeks ago (don’t ask). The resulting entry epitomizes what they do: explore forgotton junk of the past with witty commentary. Perfect!
Two Pictures
Too, too funny — The Daily Show’s John Hodgman appropriated an old George Plimpton Intellivision ad to promote the paperback edition of his book, The Areas of My Expertise. Whoever designed this did an excellent job, although I have to admit that Hodgman looks kind of stiff next to the suavetude that is Plimpton. On his weblog, Hodgman graciously linked to my flickr profile (I uploaded a scan of it to my Videogame Ads 1982 set ten months ago). Now I’m getting lots of flickr traffic — Plimpton’s ad has racked up an impressive 17,663 views. Not bad for a dead guy.
Salute Your Shorts
I’m sending my Tivo into overdrive on Turner Classic Movies this Friday — the channel will be broadcasting an entire day of short films with its Behind The Camera: The Shorts Circuit fest. They’ll be showing a few brand new films, but of course I’m going to be checking out the cool vintage stuff (which has been divided into hourlong programmes grouped by director). For example — scheduled during the George Sidney segment, 1939’s Hollywood Hobbies follows Joyce Compton and Sally Blaine as a couple of silly tourists on the lookout for celebrities in Hollywood. The film exists as a pleasantly goofy sampling of how the big studios promoted their stars. Clark Gable’s favorite hobby was whitewashing fences, apparently.
Now that I’m on it, TCM has a lot of intriguing delights on their October schedule. That month will see the premiere of TCM Underground, a weekly showcase of cult horror/exploitation films hosted by Rob Zombie. This particular development has a lot of diehard TCM fans quaking in their boots, but I say bring it on. I love variety and personally can’t wait to see, for example, the pair of Russ Meyer flicks they have scheduled for Oct. 20 (Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! and Mudhoney, neither of which I’ve seen). Best. Channel. Ever.
Gruesome Twosome: Country Cuties Edition
Lynn Anderson: “I’ve Been Everywhere”
LP: Uptown Country Girl, 1970 | BUY
Skeeter Davis: “There’s a Fool Born Every Minute”
RCA Victor records single, 1968 | BUY
Hey there y’all : today’s selections come through the courtesy of two of my favorite country singers. For a time it appeared that Lynn Anderson had it all — beauty pageant looks, talented songwriter ma (Liz), and she was a champion equestrian to boot! The tongue-twisting “I’ve Been Everywhere” dates from Lynn’s late ’60s tenure with Chart Records. Later on she’d move on to huge crossover success with “Rose Garden,” but I kind of like the rowdy, sexy image she projected on her earlier stuff. Pert Skeeter Davis might accurately be interpreted as a countrified Lesley Gore; most of her music consists of winsome vocals double-tracked over cushiony, Girl Group-ish productions (thanks to Nashville legend Chet Atkins). Her 1968 hit “There’s a Fool Born Every Minute” is no exception, an interesting contrast of downbeat lyrics and perky instrumentation. A new Skeeter CD comp, The Pop Hits Collection Vol. 2, has just been released on Taragon Records.
The Man Who Drew Everything
A charming book arrived at the chez scrubbles doorstep a couple of weeks ago — Blackstock’s Collections: The Drawings of an Autistic Savant published by Princeton Architectural Press. The book collects the artwork of one Gregory L. Blackstock, a sixty year old Seattleite who began making his obsessively detailed drawings of multiple items two decades ago. From what I could gather, the autistic Blackstock intently studies library books, then goes home and creates intricate drawings entirely from memory of the animals, buildings, vehicles or household objects he saw. Each drawing focuses on one subject (e.g. dozens of different saws, WWII U.S. bombers, or swallowtail butterflies), serving as visual evidence that several objects seen collectively have a strange power that one object by itself lacks. Some of his layouts are arranged in a lovely gridlike fashion or have an innate orderliness, drawn with a crude, thick hand (actually, his linework and blocky lettering most closely resembles the work of political cartoonist Mark Alan Stamaty). Blackstock’s Collections makes me gratified that the artist has gained recognition in the outsider art world and isn’t toiling in obscurity.
September 11th
I slept though the terror attacks of September 11th, 2001. That morning I awoke to find a flustered Aaron Brown speaking on CNN, then an image of a World Trade Center tower with smoke coming out the top. A humungous cloud of smoke erupted from behind the burning tower, and before it could dissapate the worst came to mind. Like everybody else, I spent the day in a daze, numb. Frightened, wondering if this was happening in cities all over. The next day, I went through the digital photo archives at the newspaper where I worked at the time. I wanted to experience the photographs that many news outlets didn’t publish out of fear of upsetting their readers — not so much out of morbid curiosity as wanting to see as much of the whole picture as possible. Because you just know that, as time goes on, people will shape the events into what they want them to be. The weird, gloomy yet hyper-patriotic atmosphere of late 2001 played out that way.
Five years on, the memories of that awful day hang over us like a shadow. Although we try to ease the pain by focusing on examples of heroism and self-sacrifice (like in the two recent 9-11 feature films), we can’t get away from the sheer dread that day conjures. Images of the collapsing towers are still painful and have this nightmarish quality. It never really hits that, watching that, I’m witnessing a simultaneous mass death. Did that really happen? Maybe that’s why we can’t get away from it.
Depressingly, the last five years have unfolded exactly as I imagined they would immediately post-9-11. I knew that the president was going to exploit everything to suit his own agenda, and sure enough he did. We’re still in a war. Americans still feel unsafe. It might take ten, twenty years — or never — to get over it. I’ll get back to posting on happier subjects tomorrow, but it feels cathartic to write this down. Thanks for the indulgence.
