Kirk Demarais's Blog, page 8

2014 HALLOWEEN COUNTDOWN OF ENJOYABLES

It's been seven years since my last Halloween countdown. But in this, the fourteenth year of the two thousandth millennium (right?), I shall make my return to this most honorable ritual!

Why now?

For one, we're still amid the Secret Fun Blog mini-renaissance.

Also, because spookiness has been percolating in my mind all year. It started late winter when a friend and I reminisced about our youthful reading habits during a long drive home. This prompted me to re-buy Stephen King's Night Shift, which lead to Skeleton Crew, then Nightmares and Dreamscapes and so on.

Then, during the summer a local thrift store stocked someone's old collection of horror on VHS, which is a rare genre in my neck of the woods. Having already been primed by the web, the documentaries, the books, the collectors that populate my Twitter feed, and a teen age jammed with video store memories, I started making these movies a part of my summer nights.

On top of that we've had one of the most autumnal summers that I can remember. It was like being teased by October every few weeks, and now that it's here I am more than ready to revel in it.

Most importantly, I've got a kid who is eight years old, squarely positioned in the "Zone of Childhood Halloween Magic™."

Back in the Bush-era I counted down with a random assortment of retro-spooky stuff. The year before that I conducted a more focused "Skeleton Countdown" in which each synthetic human structure was more glorious than the last.

This time the theme is "Halloween Enjoyables 2014" meaning every entry will relate to a Halloween activity that I experience this year , covering traditions, purchases, entertainment, outings and anything done to enhance the season. Some will be mundane, while others will be even more mundane. The point is to document and share my month in a way that's relate-able and imitate-able, for the most part.

One self-imposed rule is: no reviews. There will be a good bit of media on the list: movies, records, video games and such, but I want to resist the temptation to make any sort of formal, balanced, or even thoughtful recommendations. Instead I plan to just show photos and write about stuff. Maybe it'll be a highlight, or a memory, or an experience. I want to have fun and I don't want the countdown to detract from real life. With that in mind, I may not even post every day, or spell check for tht mattter!

I'm also joining the ranks of the official CountdownToHalloween.com to make things even more synergistic. So be sure to tap into that network for maximum time-killing pleasure.

So please join me in a month of low-key, true-to-life entries that will spook your brain out the back of your skull!

CLIFTON HILL AT NIAGARA FALLS, ONTARIO-1998

Since Niagara Falls tourism has been on my mind I decided to dig out my photos from my first visit in 1998. It turns out that I didn't take a single picture! I had just gained access to a video camera and apparently couldn't resist the chance to put it to use while saving money on film development.
In keeping with the photo-centric format of the site I went ahead and took a bunch of screen captures. Writing-wise I'm a bit Niagara-ed out, so I'm going to call this a photo essay, or a pictorial, or an appendix to my last post, and just leave it at that.

My first #%@*!~$ screen grab and I got the stupid control panel in the image! Well, this one deserves a quick comment because Alien Encounter is now defunct and it's scantly documented on the internet. As you can see it was located to the right of the Criminal Hall of Fame.
Their attention-grabber was the then-pretty-recent alien from Independence Day...











Living flies were attracted to the eyes and mouths of wax Schwarzenegger and Tom Cruise, making it all more hilarious, yet disturbing.



















Conclusion: It's not all that different from what it is today and probably wasn't worth the couple hours it took to put together the post. And yet, there it is, existing on the internet, no turning back.

Bonus! Two videos of Clifton Hill in the 1980s...

A TALE OF TWO ROAD TRIPS PART II- NIAGARA FALLS

...CONTINUED FROM PART I

In case you missed the first part and belligerently refuse to click that link, I've been outlining two western Pennsylvania road trips taken one year apart and comparing both experiences. Next stop...

 TITUSVILLE, PA
 I stopped at the world's first oil well, Drake Well, on both of my trips. The well was unchanged, but this year's visit was inferior because after decades of free access they've suddenly started charging ten bucks. (Prior to this, only the museum had a fee.) A family of ten would be better off just buying a barrel of crude oil.
I saw some Shriners in miniature vehicles, just as they should be.
The Titusville McDonald's still has a couple members of the old McDonaldland gang including this Apple Pie Tree.
Heading northeast out of town in a secluded creek there is a massive rock that's painted like a frog. A self-appointed mystery rock painter has maintained it for decades.
But in just a few seconds you are going to be kicking yourself for having spent your time reading about a fiberglass tree and a painted stone because we are about to arrive at the destination of both trips—Niagara Falls, Ontario!!!
Before last year I had visited the Falls just once, on my honeymoon, because I wanted a mid-century cliche at the foundation of my marriage. At that time you didn't need a passport to get over to the superior Canadian view. I waltzed into that foreign land with a tip of my hat as Semisonic played on the car stereo. But these days access to the fairer side is a privilege that must be hard earned, first by going through the rigmarole of obtaining an up-to-date passport, and then by enduring the unruly lines and a way-more-intense-than-it-should-be interrogation at the border.
On my honeymoon visit all of my preconceptions were built on the movie Superman II. So I didn't expect much more than the Falls, some unsupervised children plummeting into the falls, and a bunch of hotels with heart-shaped Jacuzzis. I could not have been less prepared for this...

A street of fun indeed...
Yes, I had stumbled into a true tourist mecca, like a wedding gift from above. A decade and a half later the Clifton Hill funland is thriving with more attractions than ever before. (In order to achieve maximum impact I am mixing photos from both 2013 and '14)

You know you're in an amazing place when the giant King Kong is not even the biggest monster on the street.
The real estate closest to the falls is dominated by the bigger, slicker entities like some MGM complex, a Rainforest Cafe, the massive Canadian Midway arcade, and major fast food chains.

Blacklight mini-golf (as seen in above in Wizard's Golf) seems to have gained some traction about a decade ago across the US. I wish this trend a long and prosperous lifespan.
There are a few leftovers from back in the day, but they've been given facelifts and other businesses have engulfed them. Case in point, the Guinness World Records museum...


Once you venture off the main strip, the second tier attractions are less flashy, but more flavorful... The exterior of the Rock Legends Wax Museum got me wondering, was their choice of celebrity heads determined by the shapes of scrap wood they had laying around?

This place has become an object of regret for me because I didn't have a chance to go inside. I had my son with me and frankly, I'm just not ready to give him the "Marilyn Manson talk." So I have to hope the place sticks around until my next visit. But I don't think I have much to worry about, check out the uncanny likeness!...

This stretch might be called Motel Row. If not, it should be.




Heart-shaped Jacuzzis! Expectations met.

Let's tour one of the many souvenir pushers, shall we? These shops are at their best when the inventory is literally spilling out into the sidewalk. I suspect the owners are actually hoping that some of this stuff gets stolen.
Everything is just right.
There's such an abundance of things that I've never seen in anyone's home. I do not spend time with the right people.
Should you find yourself in a souvenir shop with a basement level, ALWAYS get yourself down there. It's often the greatest hodgepodge of older stock. In this case they were remodeling, but even then the two-toned pegboard and colorful cabinets were well worth a trip downstairs and a photo...

 A Zoltar machine right on the street! Just like in that Tom Hanks film, Turner & Hooch.
Now look at it real close-like...
Is your vacation making you feel too good about life? How about paying to walk among interactive monuments to some of the worst atrocities mankind has wrought upon itself?

Just a few years ago the front of the building actually had a keystone cops style. Apparently market research suggests that today's audience demands more serial homicide.
My hats off to the Mystery Maze for keeping the age-old spirit of tourist deception alive. The photos don't show it well, but the maze is about one sixth the size of its facade, much of which is actually an adjacent motel painted up to look like it's part of the maze building.


This has everything I like to shoot at: cobras, skulls, and vampire torsos wearing pastel, knitted ponchos. 
Tussaud's was once in the heart of the strip, but has since become an "Off-Broadway" attraction, so to speak. They retained their nice assortment of attention-getters including a rotating sign and a tightrope walker that moves when he is not broken.


This day to night transition is the perfect segue into this next series that I like to call "Clifton Hill by moonlight."

The world's greatest cross-promotion looks even better at night.
You must be wondering about the Dracula sign. Don't worry, we're getting to that.
And now let us turn the spotlight on TripAdvisor's lowest-rated attraction in the entire area, The Guinness World Records Museum. After reading reviews saying it had scarcely been updated since the 1970s I knew who was getting my Canadian currency.

 
The world's tallest man seems to be Guiness's unofficial mascot. I like that Ripley's also features a statue of him. I like to think of this as an act of defiance. Tourist trap rivalry is an exciting topic for me. This is their idea keeping things fresh, using empty PEZ dispensers to illustrate a newish world record. To the left there was a knock-off LEGO set for a Pirates of the Caribbean record, I joke you not.

I knew you wouldn't believe me. Here's a photo...


This is what I came for, hallways adorned with Carter-era whimsy. Whoa, you walk under a giant pencil?!

Say, while you're in the mood for entertainment, wouldn't it be fun to see a simulated execution? Actually it costs extra, unless you do as I did and wait around for someone to come along with Canadian coins and a blood lust.
This is pretty great. It's what science fair projects looked like in the Iococca family.

For me the jewel in the Guiness crown was the 1979 Hercules Pinball Machine from Atari. My photo fails to communicate the scale, but it's quite enormous.

Oh, and this area is home to one of the seven natural wonders of the world. Anyway...
Attraction-wise the spooky to non-spooky ratio is higher than any tourist mecca I know of. Why is this? It may have something to do with the low cost of renting a building, turning off the lights and charging admission. But still, they seem to draw enough customers to stay afloat, and I wouldn't have thought the demand would be so high. Do the Falls remind us of our mortality or something? I guess I shouldn't question it, and just enjoy it. So enjoy this look at the many haunted attractions of Niagara Falls... Let's begin with the lower budget, yet higher admission Screaming Tunnels. It used to be called Screamers, but the new name capitalizes on a local legend. I didn't partake of this one, and truth be told, I've only been through half of these because as much as I love haunted stuff, for one, these are relatively expensive and second, some are 90% darkness and loud noises.


While the name seems like a shameless rip-off I must give props 'n kudos to Ghost Blasters. It's the most populated of them all, since it's a ride-n-shoot type of thing. Also, for making the letter "O" into the ghost's mouth. Most importantly, I salute them for maintaining traditional spook house imagery with a blacklight presentation. When you count your blessings, make sure one of them is the fact that sheet-ghosts and skeletons are part of the public domain.

Nightmares gets high marks online, but aside from a standard "car headlights scare" it is essentially a pitch-dark maze with one guy following you around. I can recreate this experience at my home any night of the week and I charge half of what they do.


The Haunted House is an unmanned walk-through with classic funhouse scares, limited scenery, and a nice facade.

For me, the best thing about the haunted Niagara assortment are the Castle Dracula (or, if you're looking at the other sign it's called Dracula's Haunted House) and its competition, the House of Frankenstein. They've both been there at least thirty years and they both feature classic twentieth century movie monsters in animatronic form (plus loads of dark nothingness.)

I guarantee they put that "Thriller" part on the building for the 1984 season.
I couldn't resist taking a photo from practically the same angle one year later. Good thing I did because I've documented the building both pre and post Grin's N Giggles novelty shop (seen on the left).
 Note the "3 levels of fear:" Medium, Hot, and Hardcore. Someone please invest the thirty bucks and tell me if there's really a difference.

Needs more gargoyle.
Soon after crossing back into the United States this paltry operation dealt a crushing blow to my sense of patriotism... I've since read that it's more museum than spookhouse. Plus they do have a crow's nest and skeleton on the building, so I may have been too hasty in my judgement.
All too soon it was time to head homeward. I took the same way back on both of my trips, but I made a point to stop at different places. First let's look at 2013...
World's largest wind chime, Casey, Illinois...
 You can actually ring it by pulling back on a big thing, which was a nice surprise.
The "world's largest golf tee" is in the same town...

And lastly, the St. Louis Arch...

This year there was less time for lengthy stops, but thankfully I was running low on gas when I happened upon "truck world 'World's Finest'" in Hubbard, Ohio. The light fixtures and wallpaper in the breezeway were reassuring, and I appreciated the photographic evidence that an official Truck World hot air balloon had both existed and been on the premises at one time. Probably a time when Happy Days was still airing new episodes.
The article "The Worst Game Room Ever" on X-Entertainment has stuck with me for years, and never fails to surface in my mind when I'm on road trips. It perfectly captures that familiar confusion that comes when neglect meets an environment that was intended for fun. It's such a harsh contrast and yet I find myself halfway attracted to these scenes where I like to soak in the bittersweetness.
Truck World has nothing that qualifies as the 'worst ever,' but the vacant halls and empty fun zones gave me tinges of this feeling. For example, the name of this little alcove sets up impossible expectations from the get-go...
 The presentation is in stark contrast to these four needy, ill-spaced machines and a corner full of disheveled chairs.
 In the game room the still, glowing giants wait days on end for a single play. Together they emit a low electric hum, interrupted only by the occasional outburst of demo music from the one working pinball machine; a feeble effort to gain the attention of nobody.
  But there were signs of life. Someone had decided to get a haircut that afternoon. And there was a man at a kiosk who made a sale to the only other human in the hall. The transaction involved a remote control helicopter, and the buyer seemed genuinely thrilled.

The  restaurant was a peaceful refuge for a handful of travelers, and Erin's Pub, with an entrance that resembles a funhouse barrel, provided a cool, dark place for afternoon drinkers.

I didn't want to leave.

But I did, and soon my weary eyes beheld this beacon of the road... A Suckey's WITH a Godfather's Pizza!
The Stuckey's-ness was weak at this location, but they did have the one thing that ensures that it's the real deal...

In Rolla, Missourri the clouds rolled in just in time for our stop at the half scale partial reconstruction of Stonehenge. It was built in 1984 and "is reportedly accurate to within 15 seconds, when used as a clock."
Rolla is also good for places like this...  
Lastly, we decided to explore a relatively new addition to this stretch of former Route 66, Redmon's candy factory, gas station, Branson ticket outlet, and world's largest gift store. 
For me, the boy mascot with the mannish nose was already a strike against it, but I must admit that I was quickly won over. Not because of the services, or product selection, or aesthetics, but because of the overall atmosphere. On a scorcher of a day, the place was cool and bustling with people, and they somehow seemed pleased, and excited.
Crowds were gleefully grabbing candy by the handful. I had to wait awhile for folks to momentarily clear so I could snap this photo...
I think they oversell the whole "Candy Factory" thing, as it's more like a glassed-off room where some candy is made, but nobody was complaining.

I don't know why I got such a surprisingly good vibe that afternoon, maybe it was just me, but it reminded me of what a roadside oasis on a family vacation can be.

The thing that impressed me about the Gift Store was how far back I had to walk to fit the whole thing in my camera's viewfinder.

It's one of those places where I'm amazed that there can be so much, and yet nothing that I want.


Well, of course I wouldn't turn down an over-sized sock monkey if someone were giving it away.
 And while I've never worn one, I do admire these shirts. Why has it taken this long for this to happen? Domestic pets and printed textiles have been with us for centuries, and only now have these ingredients formed this recipe?



That's the thing about places like this, they don't even tell you there's an "I Love Lucy" car in the back, but there is one. The phrase "embarrassment of riches" seems appropriate. As it turned out Lucy's Cadillac was the last photo-worthy diversion on the journey home.
SOUVENIRS 2013 VS. SOUVENIRS 2014
EXHIBIT A: 2013 EXHIBIT B: 2014
THE VERDICT: It's so obvious that I yielded a better crop of mementos last year. It had more diversity (this year was rife with magnets and trading cards from the Steel City convention), plus it covered so many of the classic souvenir categories: Pennant, Shot Glass, Ceramic, Fool's Gold, and Squished Penny.
THE END

MYSTERY SCIENCE TENENBAUMS

When you're a freelancer, jobs are usually finished with zero fanfare, often in the middle of the night. Sometimes I'll celebrate with a trip to the 24 hour grocer for a pack of Cookie Dough Bites and an all-I-can-read visit to the magazine section. That's why I turn to you, dear internet user, to share my latest creations.
Earlier this year Wired presented a history of Mystery Science Theater 3000. It's a history that I was a part of early on, as a fan who didn't have access to Comedy Central, but did live in a dorm where VHS tapes of the show could be tracked down with a bit of sleuthing and bartering. The show rose to power at the perfect time for me because college was the most emotionally perilous era of my life, full of failed relationships, sticky family situations, and the loss of my dad, but turning on MST3K always felt like spending the evening with friends when the real ones weren't available.
Recently I've been able to claim a miniscule spot in the show's official legacy by creating some designs under the art direction of Joel himself. As the article reported, efforts have long been underway to reboot the show which will most likely happen with a crowd sourcing campaign. These thrive on donor rewards, and that's where my designs come in. Here's the one that's been officially revealed...

Front Back
It's for a "breakfast cereal kit" and the toy will be included. There are other even wonderful-er rewards that are still under wraps, but the whole campaign is laden with complexity so it's still a crossed-fingers situation. Thankfully, we'll always have those VHS tapes.

Wait, please don't click away yet, I'm not done. As some folks know, I've somehow formed a cottage industry out of drawing fake family portraits of fictional families that sometimes include images of real people at a younger age. Oh, you know, wacky sort of stuff...goofin' with art...crazy times and what have you. Anyway, I recently did one for comedian John Mulaney that he birthday-gifted to his fiance (now wife) Annamarie, and now her "whole life is complete!"


This will be even more notable in a couple of months once his new show on Fox becomes the sitcom of the millennium. Each time you watch it please think of me, and speak a little message to me out loud. Same goes for Mystery Science Theater 3000.

MYSTERY SCIENCE TENNENBAUMS

When you're a freelancer, jobs are usually finished with zero fanfare, often in the middle of the night. Sometimes I'll celebrate with a trip to the 24 hour grocer for a pack of Cookie Dough Bites and an all-I-can-read visit to the magazine section. That's why I turn to you, dear internet user, to share my latest creations.
Earlier this year Wired presented a history of Mystery Science Theater 3000. It's a history that I was a part of early on, as a fan who didn't have access to Comedy Central, but did live in a dorm where VHS tapes of the show could be tracked down with a bit of sleuthing and bartering. The show rose to power at the perfect time for me because college was the most emotionally perilous era of my life, full of failed relationships, sticky family situations, and the loss of my dad, but turning on MST3K always felt like spending the evening with friends when the real ones weren't available.
Recently I've been able to claim a miniscule spot in the show's official legacy by creating some designs under the art direction of Joel himself. As the article reported, efforts have long been underway to reboot the show which will most likely happen with a crowd sourcing campaign. These thrive on donor rewards, and that's where my designs come in. Here's the one that's been officially revealed...

Front
Back
It's for a "breakfast cereal kit" and the toy will be included. There are other even wonderful-er rewards that are still under wraps, but the whole campaign is laden with complexity so it's still a crossed-fingers situation. Thankfully, we'll always have those VHS tapes.

 Wait, please don't click away yet, I'm not done. As some folks know, I've somehow formed a cottage industry out of drawing fake family portraits of fictional families that sometimes include images of real people at a younger age. Oh, you know, wacky sort of stuff...goofin' with art...crazy times and what have you. Anyway, I recently did one for comedian John Mulaney that he birthday-gifted to his fiance (now wife) Annamarie, and now her "whole life is complete!"


This will be even more notable in a couple of months once his new show on Fox becomes the sitcom of the millennium. Each time you watch it please think of me, and speak a little message to me out loud. Same goes for Mystery Science Theater 3000.

A TALE OF TWO ROAD TRIPS PART I- THE AMUSEMENT PARKS

When it comes to exploring the United States, the time we live in is a sweet spot in the country's history. The information age has given us three game changers: the dashboard Global Positioning System, the digital camera, and the TripAdvisor.
TomToms and the like still seem too good to be true, and feel more futuristic than anything I ever expected I'd live to see. Two gig memory cards eliminate the financial dilemma I used to face when a single photograph could run over half a buck after you figure film and development. To further complicate things, my mom tried to impart in me that a photo without a person in it was wasteful. Now a camera is like a net that captures free pixels right out of the sky. And TripAdvisor is a light that shines justice on the corners of the tourism industry which have survived on ignorance. 
With this triad of tools one can practically say goodbye to curbside atlas study, motel horrors, and the hollow buyers' remorse upon exiting a worthless attraction (unless visiting a worthless attraction was the goal.) And though we are armed with the devices of tomorrow, there are remnants of America's golden age of road travel still to be found.
These are the perfect days for a road trip.
For two consecutive summers I've had reason to travel to western Pennsylvania by car. In an effort to avoid a repeat of last year's trip, I made a point to go different routes and visit different attractions. I viewed it as a chance to experience an alternate version of my journey, and the opportunity to compare the two for future generations.
Both routes were basically the same up until St. Louis. I then headed towards Kentucky last year, while this year I went towards northern Ohio. Both paths had their respective highs and lows, and now I will share my findings with you!

COZY DRIVE IN- SPRINGFIELD, ILLINOIS (2014)
This is one of those Route 66 staples that celebrates their history and makes a point of keeping things "classic," from the sign, to the decor, to the food itself. They've got a Route 66 reading table and tons of great souvenirs all bearing artwork from last century, free of digital drop shadows and other unnecessary Photoshop effects.


The front row is reserved for primary color parking only.





Cozy Dogs are batter-dipped hot dogs on a stick. I won't call them corn dogs because I think that's legally prohibited.

Their adorable mascots are everywhere, as they darn well should be. Anthropomorphic food characters are not uncommon, but rarely do they demonstrate unending love.


Centuries after the Earth has been reduced to space rubble, this rug will still smell like Cozy Dogs.


ROADSIDE BEHEMOTHS 2013 VS. 2014Last year I found a well kept Big Boy statue and it served as a nice, mild trip enhancer.

But this year amid the miles of monotonous corn fields we encountered what first seemed to be some wonderful hallucination, but it turned out to be the The Pink Elephant Antique Mall in Livingston, Illinois.
The UFO and giant tricycle and pink elephant would have been enough, but ruling over this motley crew of subjects was a genuine Muffler Man!...
How does the age-old saying go again?
"If a Muffler Man ye see
within the first four hundred miles,
a splendid journey it shall be,
and the fun shall not be spiled"
(spile spīl/ n 1. a small wooden peg or spigot for stopping a cask.)


Free of his duties as a former Harley Davidson shill, this jolly giant stands empty handed in a spacious field of misfit attention-getters. The carefree muffler man provides a stark contrast to the shackled pink elephant who is nowhere near retirement.

And what could embody summer vacation magic better than an ice cream stand styled after a giant ice cream cone?! Folks, this isn't some old Kodachrome post card, this is currently sitting there. That ol', humming freezer is ice cold— right now!
 Somehow hidden around the corner is a two story shirtless ice cream eater! (That elephant is life-size!)
THE VERDICT: The Illinois route redefines the term "Big Boy." 

CLEVELAND, OH (2014) VS. CAVE CITY, KY (2013)
Whenever I face a full day of driving I like to plan for at least one solid fun stop, and often I plan the whole route around it. A few years ago a guy who sold leg lamps on ebay from A Christmas Story bought Ralphie's house and turned it into an attraction. Since then it's been on my wishlist, but Cleveland is always too out-of-the-way to justify a visit. However, this year I decided to make it on the way.

 There it is. You can faintly see the leg lamp in the window. This house was actually only used for exterior shots and a few interior shots where you can see out the windows, but they did up the inside to match the movie sets as best they could. Once you get your ticket and listen to a brief spiel about the history of the film the group is turned loose for a hands on tour of the place. You can even use household items as props for your photos. People were pointing the BB gun, caressing the leg lamp, and even dropping the blue bowling ball into their husbands' laps.
They had the bathroom set up like the decoder ring scene...
You can't see it here, but you could climb into the little cupboard where Randy hid and sulked. Some people from our group had the foresight to bring Christmas sweaters so that they could use their photos for their annual Christmas card. This was a cruel reminder that I don't live life to its fullest potential.
 
And there it is, the actual leg lamp. (Note: this is not the actual leg lamp, rather it's a reproduction from the gift shop.) This vast gift shop was located across the street in a building twice the size of the main house. (There was also a museum with some costumes, props and such located in a third building.)


They had an entire wing dedicated to National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation which was about half the size of the Christmas Story retail space. Then another area about half the size of that was reserved for the Elf product line. This layout seemed to reveal the proportionate cultural impact of each film.

Department 56 finally got off its high horse and produced a glass figurine of Cousin Eddie emptying his septic tank.

They left no merchandising stone unturned, offering replicas of most any Christmas Story prop you can think of. From the obvious bunny suit to the goggled hat worn by the kid who talked to Ralphie in the department store line for thirty seconds. And of course, Lifebuoy soap...

The attraction itself gave us a lot to talk about for many miles of road. The house is positioned squarely in a dense, functioning neighborhood full of narrow, 25mph streets and people going about their lives. Many of the surrounding homes are in really rough shape. A handful of TripAdvisor reviewers say they were too afraid to even stop. So there's an interesting contrast between unvarnished Cleveland and the hordes of snap-happy sightseers. I don't imagine the locals were too pleased when their home transformed into a tourist destination. Although at least two of the neighbors seem okay with it because they turned their yards into paid parking. This only brings up more questions. Who started charging first? How miffed were they when the other one started?  What happens when one decides to charge a dollar less? There's the Christmas Story house, but more intriguing is the Christmas Story house story.

CAVE CITY, KY (2013)
I've wanted to visit Cave City, Kentucky ever since I discovered this old postcard. I knew that the novelty shop from the postcard was gone, and the combination wax museum/soda fountain/mini golf course had finally shut down, but the Mammoth Cave National Forest isn't going anywhere, so the town will always draw a steady stream of tourists. And though it may be past its prime in some sense, they've managed to hang on to some unadulterated, American vacationland magic. Case in point...

The Wigwam Village Motel! There used to be a number of these scattered around the states, and a couple still remain out west, but this is among the last of its kind. This place was among the very first "roadside attractions" designed to entice the earliest cross-country auto travelers in history. Past or present, this is the type of place that can turn a days-long car ride into a fantasy.


Each teepee is a small, yet comfortable motel room. The place was well maintained and well appreciated. There wasn't a vacant room in the bunch, and I don't jest when I say that a week prior to our visit Garth Brooks and his road crew rented the entire facility for an overnight stay.





Naturally, the biggest wigwam houses the office and gift shop. It included a restaurant once upon a time.
The inside is a cornucopia of wood paneling and pegboard. It smelled pleasantly musty. I got tingly thinking about the fact that this structure has served as a dark, cool retreat for vacationers since the 1930s. I imagined kids from all of my favorite decades walking through that door, from the coonskin cap-wearing boys of the '50s, to the bellbottom-wearing girls of the late '60s, to the '80s kids with their Ronald Reagan wallets, a Rubik's cube in each pocket, and their constant Mr. T. impressions.
This. This stack of toy Indian drum souvenirs is what you want to see while on vacation. It's close to what my dad saw when he was little, and now my own son got to experience it. God bless America.

Novelty mannequins, effigies, and wax figures are another sign that you're vacationing in the right spot.
After our blissful night in our cone-shaped room we drove into town to locate an attraction called Guntown Mountain. It's a mini western themed amusement park that's only accessible by way of a sky ride. It's closed during the week, but I was still able to get some snapshots of the pre-skyride area. Here are three, out of the oodles that I took...
It sounds like it's one of those places that teeters between greatness and disrepair. Like all great amusement parks it was ravaged by a fire a while back, however, my sources tell me that it's currently operational and seems to be improving. (My sources=the internet) Next time, old friend.
I knew that Guntown Mountain was not going to fit into our schedule, but I was hoping to patronize their souvenir shop, and I was halfway successful. Sharing a parking lot with Guntown is Smith's Country Store, an establishment that was once officially linked to the theme park. Now it's independent though symbiotic, and they do sell an array of official Guntown merch.
I pulled in moments after the store had opened. The coin operated horse and the RC Cola vending machine tipped me off that this place just might be something special. 

Upon entering, the clerk seemed perplexed and asked me if there was something he could do for me. Not a standard "can I help you?" but a statement suggesting that I looked as though I had something big on my mind, like a business deal or an auto accident. I offered an "I'm just looking." but his confusion returned moments later as I gleefully darted through the aisles taking pictures and capturing video. Because ladies and gentlemen, on that day I found the perfect souvenir shop.
The product was aged yet orderly, and every genus of souvenir was represented, from Thimbles to Fool's Gold to Bumper Stickers to Hillbilly. There were checkerboard tiled floors, wood paneled walls, and teal shelves all around!
As if my senses weren't being pleasured enough, the entire experience was accompanied by the powerful aroma of smoked country ham.



The only thing that could have made it better would've been an old section of pranks and magic tricks, though it did have a selection of rack toys, most of the "Cowboys and Indians" variety. Yet among them I found a Star Wars knock-off cap gun that had been hanging on a peg since 1978 (see photo at the end of Part II), and it was 50% off of its 1970s price! This was a joy until I considered the possible implications of such a sale. Most of the souvenir items were half price and this terrifies me. Was Smith's Country Store on the brink of a transformation, or... a closure, after decades of beautiful stagnation? Just as I first discovered it? I know, I should be thankful that I experienced it this way, just in time. What bittersweet fate is this that I must endure?! In truth, I don't know if it's changed at all since then. Either way it shall always remain just as I first saw it, in my heart.


But wait, what is that over there to the left of the store? Good...heavens.

No way! It's a freestanding, self-guided haunted funhouse that's immaculately maintained though it's been there since the 70s!!!
The attraction was not operational that morning. This saddened me until a video on youtube revealed that the haunts inside have been modernized, though I am impressed that the place is still so functional. The Haunted Hotel used to be called the Haunted House, and it housed scares from the golden age of dark rides that were produced by Funni-Frite, one of the industry pioneers. (A pre-update tour can be seen here.) One of the few original fixtures is this piano playing "Charmin' Charles" that's visible from the outside...




THE VERDICT: There's no contest, the Christmas Story house is a fine example of modern tourism, but Cave City offers a gateway to the heyday of the American road trip.

Back to 2014, there's a town called Tionesta, PA that has a tiny town within a town made up of retail shops.

They also have a landlocked mini lighthouse...

There was a hardware store selling a cool rubber coyote that's intended to scare away geese. (Travelers' tip: don't call it a wolf; the clerk was appalled.)





VILLA ITALIA, OIL CITY, PA (2014)
We were hungry for lunch whilst passing through Oil City and happened upon this place, Villa Italia...


Normally, I wouldn't consider a random pizza joint blogworthy, but this place was just so great. It's been around since the 1950s, as indicated by its A-Frame architecture.

Look at the length of those center booths! Something about it reminded me of the type of restaurant that the Family Circus would have eaten at during their comics from the 60s. Am I right? That's a normal thought that anyone might think, right?...
I loved the lived-in look, and the view, and the pizza, and the fact that it's open 24 hours. I can't even think of quips to make about this place because it's so right, and sincere.





CARNEGIE SCIENCE CENTER (2014) VS. DUQUESNE INCLINE (2013) PITTSBURGH, PA
It's a silly contest because last year we had only an hour to kill in Pittsburgh so we went to the incline, as opposed to this year when we had a couple of days.



The incline was really cool and the top of it looks sort of like a haunted house. (In this post you will see heavy use of the word 'haunted.')


This year The Carnegie Science Center was super-great, and there was so much to see. We'd never taken our eight-year-old to any sort of kids' museum, so this was a major event. We started our day in the USS Requin submarine...


 
 I was delighted to find that it was full of relics from the 1940s.

Then we waltzed into RoboWorld, a massive floor of interactive robot-related exhibits. I was most interested in the the wall of famous 'bot replicas which included...

Dewey from Silent Running (which, by the way, was a big inspiration for the robots in Mystery Science Theater 2000.)

Robby! Note my perfect timing, as I captured his lit-up neon mouth the moment he spoke. (I had to delete many photos of the darkened mouth.)


And Gort from The Day The Earth Stood Still!

They also had an enormous huge train set based on Western Pennsylvania where the lighting gradually turned from day to night. This was my favorite thing in it, Frank Lloyd Wright's Fallingwater...







THE VERDICT: Visit both the incline and the science center!

CRANBERRY MALL VS. MONROEVILLE MALL

Lately I've been in the mood to visit a mall. They were once a summertime haven for me, but then Camelot Music, SunCoast Movies, Kay-Bee Toys, B. Dalton Books, Woolworths and the cool novelty shops all disappeared. My quest to revisit this institution lead me to the town of Cranberry, PA to a mall that my wife sometimes visited as a kid...


It doesn't look to have changed much considering the comforting globe light fixtures and diagonal wood planks.

I was glad to see that one of the store spaces was being turned into a temporary haunted house for the upcoming season.

But in the Harsh Reality department I must report that maybe a fifth of the stores were closed.



I'm not some big advocate for malls, but in a sociological sense I find it strange that the American Mall is now understood as a mere passing trend in retail. A costly one that has left hundreds of square miles of wasteland in our towns and cities. I would not have guessed that the populous would prefer driving from giant store to giant store. Thus, my stock portfolio is a disaster.

Anyway, the very next day I visited a mall that seems to be thriving, the Monroeville Mall of Monroeville, PA. Truth be told the main attraction for me was it's role in the film Dawn of the Dead (1978). Somehow I completely missed their zombie themed store, but I took some shots of a few spots that look like they may not have seen much change since George Romero turned loose his undead.


The interior looks nothing like it did in the film, but there is a car inside which sure came in handy in the movie. It also still has a music shop and a toy store, plus some old staples like Orange Julius, Spencers, and Vitamin World.




THE VERDICT: Cranberry was a nostalgic yet depressing history lesson. Monroeville was healthy, but like so many malls that got facelifts in the 90s it now resembles a polished, opulent palace with its marble columns and such. I like my malls casual, a bit dim, and smelling of water fountains. I say visit Cranberry because I know Monroeville will be around for a while.

STEEL CITY CON, MONROEVILLE, PA


In a moment of beautiful serendipity I realized that the Steel City Con was taking place on one of my Pittsburgh days. I'm often jealous of east coast collectors and their host of convention choices. A year ago I read this write up of the Steel City Con on Cool and Collected with a heart full of envy, thinking such an event was nowhere near my life's destiny. Then somehow I found myself standing in front of the same astonishing assortment of non-sports trading cards I'd fawned over in the write-up.

It's always fun to see stuff like this in real life...
 





 Celebrity-wise the big draw looked to be Billy Dee Williams, but he had yet to emerge when I walked through. I was happy to see Penny Marshall though. Just think, she may have used this same hand gesture while directing Tom Hanks in Big.
Upon my return I discovered that one of my fellow bloggers, Erick of Wonderful Wonderblog, had been there too. 
Okay, here is the crux of this entire, bloated post...
KENNYWOOD OF WEST MIFFLIN, PA VS. WALDAMERE OF ERIE, PA

I learned about Kennywood soon after I first "got serious" about haunted rides. It has a long history with dark attractions and they currently have three of them. More recently it's known as the park where Adventureland was filmed. I knew this and then somehow forgot about it while visiting the park, and then remembered back home. What a ridiculous brain I have.

Here are some highlights...

Their logo has wacky, off-kilter lettering. Big thumbs up for that.


They've got a roller coaster named after a vengeful ghost that boasts the best roller coaster sign I've ever witnessed.




They've got a stuffed grim reaper nonchalantly tossed in among their prizes.
This sign is really good. One of the riders is Noah from their Noah's Ark funhouse and another is Laughing Sal, which I'll get to in a moment.


This is Laughing Sal. It's a constantly laughing animatronic character. These were once very popular in carnivals, and were usually associated with funhouses and dark rides. Now there are only several dozen that are accessible to the public, and this one is fully restored and fully functional, exuding all of its original creepy-and-annoying-ness.

Their refreshment stand is a masterwork of neon typography.

And the three dark attractions...

Ghostwood Estate, an interactive shoot 'em up ride that retains classical spook house styling inside and out. No, I'm not posting a video. I'm done doing that.



Garfield's Nightmare, the latest iteration of a longstanding Kennywood dark ride. It's a kid friendly boat-through by blacklight.




This was the heart of the visit for me, the Noah's Ark walk-through funhouse. It was built in 1936 and though it's seen many changes and updates, it still oozes with charm.

Noah looks different than I always imagined...

Kennywood was all I had hoped for, but we were there on a Friday night so long lines limited our experience.  Now let us go back one year to my time at...



WALDAMERE PARK- ERIE, PA

Waldamere is smaller than Kennywood and has fewer major rides, but the moment I walked in I was reminded of the theme park I frequented in my youth, Bell's Amusement Park of Tulsa, so I was instantly on a higher plane of enjoyment.

I took the sky ride (something I wish Kennywood had) for an overview of their many time-honored amusements.

Hand painted signs like these are so ideal that they belong in Plato's Realm of Forms...



The Ferris Wheel  is newfangled by comparison with its marvelous '70s Tomorrowland styling. Their Skee Ball banks are perfection.

I thought it would be fun to take a photo of this haunted ticket-giving game. Turns out I was correct.


But all of these are mere appetizers leading up to the main course of dark attractions...
Pirate's Cove is a semi-spooky walk-through funhouse with shaking floors and singing skeletons and everything else that makes a house fun. (Oh, alright. Video available here.)

Just a few yards away is The Whacky Shack!! Both rides were created by master dark ride designer, Bill Tracey.

 
You see, the Whacky Shack is an identical cousin to the now dead Phantasmagoria ride which was a touchstone of my childhood and influenced my entire aesthetic. (I've written thousands of words about it, and made a dedicated site for it.)

I will spare you the fifty something pictures I took of Whacky Shack. I could not walk past the ride without getting out my camera. "I know, I already immortalized it at two o'clock, but now it's three and the subtleties of the lighting are all different." Unlike the Phantas, the Shack is exquisitely maintained.

Riding it was simply amazing. For me it was like getting to spend time with someone you never thought you'd see again. Oddly enough, the thing that struck me most was the smell. It's a cool, musty, oily aroma, the one element of the experience that I can't reproduce when I reminisce. (Here's a ride-through video, sans smell.)


VERDICT: Both parks are proud of their their heritage, and both are well loved by management and patrons alike. Kennywood is bigger and has more thrill rides (which are wasted on me), while Waldamere is cozier and features smaller amusement park classics. Kennywood has great dark rides, but Waldamere has the Whacky Shack which pretty much trumps everything for me. So my personal pick is Waldamere, but thrill-seekers may want to head down to Kennywood.
TO BE CONTINUED IN PART II!...

AN INTRODUCTION TO YACHT ROCK

[I wrote this with Reddit's vinyl collecting section in mind, but there's plenty retro-fun to be found in Yacht Rock, so I put it here too.]

When I was growing up I typically craved distorted guitars and plenty of percussion, but even then I had a soft spot for soft rock. Several years ago Channel 101’s comedy web series, Yacht Rock, (contains NSFW language) rekindled my affection for the nonthreatening sounds of classic lite rock hits. Soon my record collection set sail for more tranquil waters.

The Yacht Rock show consists of a dozen shorts that build a hilarious mythology around the creation of soft rock songs of the ‘70s and ‘80s, while spoofing the artists, culture and industry that birthed them. Rather than attempting to cover the entire soft rock spectrum, Michael McDonald and Kenny Loggins are the central figures. The creators “devised the series after noticing the incestuous recording careers of such bands as Steely Dan, Toto, and The Doobie Brothers, and the singer-songwriters Kenny Loggins and Michael McDonald."

The term Yacht Rock plays off the nautical imagery that found its way into so many album covers and lyrics of the time, and it's an apt description of the smooth grooves that seem perfectly suited for the boat shoe and bikini lifestyle. The Yacht Rock moniker has transcended the web series to emerge as its own belated subgenre.

The Yacht Rock era spans from about 1975 to 1984. It took root in the latter half of the '70s when a number of soft rockers veered away from the stripped down singer-songwriter sound in favor of more Jazz-oriented arrangements, resulting in an “urban contemporary finish.” The style, which appealed to fans of pop, R&B, and rock, was at home all over the radio dial. The sound and aesthetic merged seamlessly with the existing culture. The ‘70s charts were already kind to easy-goers like Manilow and Streisand, and the desire to “Steal Away” to a tropical “Escape” was a goal shared by commoners and seafaring yuppies alike.

As the 1980s progressed the easy sounds of Yacht Rock were practically drowned out. MTV, the dominant trendsetter in the times, focused on music with a more energetic, youthful vibe. Yacht Rockers seemed out of place both stylistically and demographically. The channel was blamed for stunting the careers of artists possessing little visual flair such as Christopher Cross.

Some stayed hip by adapting a more lively sound. Kenny Loggins cut “Footloose” and headed for the “Danger Zone” while Hall and Oates made more noise on their ‘84 album Big, Bam, Boom. The strategy didn’t pan out for everyone, Christopher Cross turned to the dark side and introduced loud snares and wah wah pedals on his ‘85 release, Every Turn of the World, which turned out to be a commercial failure.

A personal theory is that Yacht Rock’s demise may have been assisted by Miami Vice. While it kept the tropical setting in vogue throughout the ‘80s, the influential TV series saw to it that beaches and palms no longer amounted to serene utopia; suddenly they served as a backdrop to underworld deals and high action. The show also shifted attention from the chilled-out West Coast to vibrant Miami.

I used to think it odd that so many young, male artists living in such a volatile musical landscape of punk, new wave, disco and hard rock chose to make music so relatively peaceful and agreeable, songs that might appeal to their own parents. But having fully immersed myself in their golden tones it’s easy to understand the allure. As an adult I can appreciate the music as a means to serenity. Career and family already supply enough percussion and distortion.

This brings us to a guided tour of my own Yacht Rock assortment which stays close to the artists featured in the show, like an extended soundtrack. Yet, it should become obvious that my fondness goes well beyond the show. It may have pulled me in, but I stayed for the music. There are plenty of acquisitions yet to be made (Ambrosia, Robbie Dupree, Player and so on) but that just means the thrill of the hunt isn’t over.




Steely Dan- Aja (1977)
Listing Steely Dan among the Yacht Rock set will cause many to take offense, citing their Mensa approved time signatures, their multifarious arrangements, and their production values from on high. Yet just as Lucifer fell from paradise, Steely Dan begat Yacht Rock. Members of Toto cut their teeth as session musicians on several Dan records, and Michael McDonald got his start singing backup for the band. It was former Steely Dan guitarist Jeff “Skunk” Baxter who suggested that McDonald join the Doobies Brothers. He took their offer and tore down their proverbial rock and roll roadhouse to build a piano jazz club with lush leather seats and a fountain in the lobby.

This album is one of the few “high brow” entries on the list, and it does indeed transcend the Yacht Rock genre. Allmusic Guide says that Steely Dan “reached new heights” with this release and the band “ignores rock… preferring to fuse cool jazz, blues, and pop together in a seamless, seductive fashion.” It’s a defining template for Yacht Rock if I ever heard one. Steely Dan is like the well of jazzy smoothness that lubricated everything in its wake.




The Doobie Brothers- Minute By Minute (1978)
The thread that weaves the Yacht Rock quilt together is Michael McDonald. He joined the Doobies in 1975 to replace Tom Johnston whose health was failing. McDonald was more than a stand-in, his “blue-eyed soul” was a velvety pillow that smothered out most of the funky jangles the Doobies had built their sound on. As Wikipedia says, he placed “more emphasis on compound chords and unusual, complex chords and sophisticated progressions with key changes and longer, more developed melody lines.”

Minute By Minute is the third of the four McDonald-era Doobie albums and soon after its release the band was ready to call it quits. McDonald himself was doubting his own sound, and actually agreed with one of his friends who told him that Minute By Minute “sounds like $#!t.” That’s a statement only a fool would believe considering the album charted at number one, and the song “What A Fool Believes” earned them their first Grammys. McDonald can’t take all of the credit, some must go to the co-writer and Yacht Rock staple, Kenny Loggins.




Kenny Loggins- Nightwatch (1978)

Kenny Loggins got his start in the early ‘70s as half of the successful duo, Loggins and Messina, whose folky music foreshadowed the Yacht Rock movement in some ways. However, as his career progressed Loggins kept one foot in the pools of tranquility while dipping the other deep into the perilous rapids of hard rock.

Nightwatch is Loggins’ second solo effort and it gave him his first big solo hit, “Whenever I Call You “Friend,”” a duet with Stevie Nicks. The album is a portrait of a young artist testing the waters of different genres and recording techniques.

He strays further from his mellow roots than ever before. Quiet moments exist, but they are more sultry and atmospheric than pure Yacht Rock smooth. The big exception being “Wait A Little While” that bubbles with jaunty keys, strings, and flutes. Overall, the songs are pretty diverse stylistically, and he even throws a couple cover tunes in the mix. In hindsight, the more rambunctious tracks seem to be his gateways to the danger zone.

Most importantly, Nightwatch marks the historic union of the beards, which is to say the first collaboration between Loggins and Michael McDonald. They made the peculiar decision to record and release their own respective versions of their first co-written track “What a Fool Believes” during the same year. McDonald’s take (which appears on the Doobie Brothers’ Minute By Minute) is light, bouncy and more straightforward than Loggins’ which is more punchy and percussive. Midway through the song Kenny throws in a kitchen sink full of elements like trendy sounding synthesizers, guitar wailing, and old time radio vocal effects. Though the Loggins version came out five months before it, the Doobies’ rendition was released as a single and became their biggest hit. However, they both came away with a Grammy. Loggins and McDonald did the same thing in 1982 when they co-wrote and co-released their own versions of the song “I Gotta Try.”




Toto- Self Titled (1978)
If Michael McDonald is the center of the Yacht Rock world then the guys in Toto are the center of the LA pop rock universe. With skills that were honed as session musicians on hundreds of the most popular records of the decade (including Yacht Rock fathers, Steely Dan), David Paich and Jeff Porcaro decided to make their own music. Their first album is made up of radio ready diddies that fuse a wide range of styles. They often put the guitars up front but there’s an undercurrent of seaworthy jazz rock throughout the album.

Toto have never been the coolest band on the dial, more accurately, they’ve been the whipping boys of the pop music scene. Their critics found a multitude of reasons to criticise them: they’re just a bunch of session players, they fuse too many genres, they’re jazz guys posing as hard rockers, they never found their voice, they have too many vocalists, there’s a “lack of depth or daring,” they’re ugly, their name brings to mind an annoying little dog, and so on. I’ll add that the chorus of one of their early hits resembles a terrible pick up line, “You supply the night, baby, I’ll supply the love.” then on “Georgy Porgy” they repeat a line from a nursery rhyme literally thirteen times.

William Ruhlmann at Allmusic guide makes an interesting point in explaining some of the critical hate when he says, “Toto's rock-studio chops allowed them to play any current pop style... It all sounded great, but it also implied that music-making took craft rather than inspiration and that the musical barriers critics like to erect were arbitrary.” Their many styles are the reason they settled on the name Toto. In Latin it translates to to “all-encompassing.”

Critics aside, I think there’s a lot to love about this album: solid playing, impeccable production, and super catchy melodies. You’ll find yourself listening to side two thinking again and again, “Wow, this song could have been another hit.” then— Bam! the opening chords of “I’ll Supply The Love” kick on and you smile knowing you’ve nodded your head to it a thousand times before, and you ask yourself, “What have I done to deserve this awesome moment?” Then you realize the truth— you don’t deserve this.

Okay, here’s full disclosure: Toto was the first band I ever saw live. Does that make me biased? Not at all. Actually, I’m one of the few who was able to judge them by their music alone because I saw them when I was in the sixth grade, when music carried no baggage, and when coolness was a foreign concept. I simply heard it and loved it.




Kenny Loggins- Keep the Fire (1979)
In which we find Kenny on a mystical, airbrushed beach adorned in wizards’ robes. This is proof that Yacht Rockers don’t always take their inspiration from the sea; sometimes they find it on the side of a customized van. In addition to letting us peek into his glowing crystal ball, Loggins plays for us his most eclectic (some might say disjointed) assortment of songs. The tracks are an even split between soft and rock. Further dividing the record are the styles, which range from boogie, to jungle rhythm, to lullaby.

“Mr. Night” is well known thanks to its appearance on the Caddyshack soundtrack, but the shining gem straight from the wizard’s hat is “This Is It,” the second powerhouse to come from the collective minds of Loggins and McDonald. Unlike their first collaboration, “What A Fool Believes,” this time it was Loggins who got to ride the insta-classic to the top of the charts. It’s also likely that this writing session is when Loggins and McDonald made their blood vow to never shave their beards.




Christopher Cross- Self-Titled (1979)
Cross found little support in his home state of Texas, so he took his talent to LA where he somehow bottled the lifestyle and let it pour slowly, all over the radio waves. His pristine voice was one of the first to be immortalized in ones and zeros, which is to say his self-titled album was among the first to be digitally recorded. In 1981 he sent soft rock sailing to new heights by becoming the only artist to win all of the Big Four Grammy awards: Record of the Year, Album of the Year, Song of the Year, and Best New Artist, famously beating out Frank Sinatra and Pink Floyd. All hail the skipper of Yacht Rock!

He wasn’t the first, and his style isn’t rooted in jazz, but Christopher Cross created the quintessential Yacht Rock album. It’s got all the criteria: Michael McDonald on backup vocals, A major nautical motif that culminates in the angelic, “Sailing,” and he’s got a sound that out-smooths the smoothest in the biz, like honey flowing down a flamingo’s throat. Compared to Cross, McDonald sounds like a shopping cart tumbling down a giant cheese grater. We also have this record to thank for a sketch on SCTV starring Rick Moranis as Michael McDonald.




Steely Dan- Gaucho (1980)
Described as "a concept album of seven interrelated tales about would-be hipsters." Gaucho was the only Steely Dan album released at the height of the Yacht Rock trend, coexisting with the scene they inadvertently fostered.

The recording process was plagued with difficulties: guitarist Walter Becker was hit by a car, his girlfriend overdosed, and he delved deeper into drug addiction. The album went over budget and also sparked a legal battle with their record labels. All this on top of the band’s ongoing battle for sonic perfection, which maddened many of the forty-two studio musicians that recorded for it. Their ability to demonstrate smoothness despite the rough seas of life is extremely Yacht Rockish of them, and the record still yielded one of their greatest hits, “Hey, Nineteen.”

Critics tend to agree that this record doesn’t reach the heights of Aja, saying things like: it embodies “the shellacked vapidity of their Los Angeles lifestyles,” and it lacks the “elegant aura” of their previous release. My ear still isn’t attuned to the differences, but their obsessiveness is obvious to me. This perfectionism led to the early use of a drum editing machine that cobbled together moments from dozens of takes, creating a drumline that their human drummer could not match. (Which happened to be Toto’s Jeff Porcaro.) Reflecting on their time in the studio, Walter Becker once said, “It wasn't fun at all, really.” Steely Dan hit a wall once they reached the dawn of the 1980s, and spent the most of the new decade on a long hiatus.




The Doobie Brothers- One Step Closer (1980)
The sun sets on the cover of One Step Closer just as the heyday of the Doobie Brothers was coming to an end. The Doobies had nearly extinguished themselves after their last album, and this effort seems like a halfhearted attempt to ride the wave of popularity they gained with Minute By Minute.

With the smoothification of the Brothers fully justified by their Grammy, Michael McDonald was once again at the helm crushing any resistance with his well-groomed facial hair. They had a moderate hit with the song “Real Love,” but having released nine albums in ten years, the Doobies were officially cashed for a number of years, not unlike their predecessors, Steely Dan. However, the negative circumstances surrounding One Step Closer doesn’t mean that it’s not a fine way to round out a Yacht Rock listening session.




Toto IV (1982)
After a sophomore slump and a junior junker (to coin a phrase), Toto managed to muster a collection of songs that sailed them to the pinnacle of their success. The solution to their losing streak was two-pronged: first, they reinstated the all-powerful sword and rings artwork, and logo from their debut, and second, they got smoother.

The six Grammy winning record produced three unstoppable hits: “Rosanna,” “Africa,” and “I Won’t Hold You Back,” and not a one was primarily driven by guitars. Only Toto could manage a radio hit out of a song with a keyboard solo straight out of Disney’s Main Street Electrical Parade. Of course I’m referring to “Rosanna” which is often falsely believed to be based on actress, Rosanna Arquette since she dated the keyboardist. The name actually comes from a swing-jazz drum pattern the band devised for the song that they called the “Rosanna shuffle.” Regardless of the name, when I was a kid I was struck by the singer’s conviction in the line, “I didn’t know you were looking for more than I could ever be.” and possibly for the first time, I realized that songs can be an expression of all types of emotion, even anger and dejection.

Toto’s success followed them into one of their next projects as most of the group played on Michael Jackson’s Thriller, and Steve Porcaro co-wrote the smoothest track of the bunch, “Human Nature,” cementing the King of Pop into the Yacht Rock family.




Michael McDonald- If That’s What It Takes (1982)
If there still exists a skeptic who wants further evidence that McDonald commandeered the Doobie Brothers, making them his backup band, I present his first solo album which sounds a lot like a continuation of his Doobie days. Yet by some miracle he actually manages to take things down a notch. It’s so smooth that the grooves on the record look like pools of hot tar.

He proved his hit-making abilities with “Keep Forgettin’ (Every Time You’re Near)” He also had the newfound freedom to use unnecessary parenthetical titles. Truth is, I think the album also reveals that as subdued as they may have been, the Doobies who weren’t Michael McDonald added some much needed flavor to his songs. Yes, Yacht Rock should be smooth, but you’ve got to stay awake at the helm or you’ll never get your boat back to shore.





Christopher Cross- Another Page (1983)
True to its title, the followup to Christopher Cross’s unbelievably successful debut sounds like a continuation of the first record, another page of the same chapter if you will. Considering its quality, that’s not a bad thing. In hindsight it was also a wise decision because when he did abandon the flamingo sound on his next album, Every Turn Of The World, he also abandoned most of his audience. He had the audacity to put a race car on the cover! But the flamingo returned on the one after that, and now the bird serves as a code indicating which of his records are smooth and pure Christopher.

Another Page had three Top 40 hits though it never had a chance of meeting the Grammy-crazy success of its predecessor. Few songs in the history of song singing can bring as much hope as “It’s Alright.” I highly recommend giving it a spin when you’re in need of some quick encouragement. It’s alright. I think we’re going to make it. I think it might work out fine this time. There, see how good that feels?

The record sleeve is an achievement in itself because it’s the most eighties thing that ever eightiesed.









Michael McDonald- Sweet Freedom (12” Single) (1986)
McDonald’s contribution to the Running Scared (1986) soundtrack turned out to be Yacht Rock’s last hurrah. It surfaced in 1985, a couple years after the trend had set sail. I suspect much of its success is a result of the video that was all over MTV that summer, and basically a trailer for the film. It takes place in some sort of beach bar that gets invaded by Gregory Hines and Billy Crystal’s smug face. McDonald plays straight man while the movie stars improvise sight gags.

As if Yacht Rock were bellowing its last gasp, the song hits hard on the nautical notes. It features steel drums, and the video is rife with maritime imagery. McDonald is actually wearing a Hawaiian shirt. However, as much as I'd like to imagine that this was Michael's proclamation of his Yacht Rock nobility, in truth, the beach motif is less an artistic choice, and more of a nod to the film.

I despised this song when it was still playing all the time. Then a couple years later a local news program started using the intro during their sports segment (It was also used in college basketball coverage on CBS). Once it was free of its context and of Billy Crystal’s face I was able to understand its tremendous appeal. Now, thanks to this 12” single, I own four different versions of it and I’ve been known to play all four back to back, much to my family’s chagrin.




Boz Scaggs- Silk Degrees (1976)
A multimillion selling granddaddy of the genre with its beachfront cover and a title named after one of the smoothest fabrics in existence. Its biggest hits were co-written by Toto member David Paich, while his fellow Toto mates appear all over the record.




The Eagles- Hotel California (1977)
You’d be hard-pressed to find a record with more of a chill ‘70s West Coast flavor, though the Eagles seem to favor the desert over the shoreline.




Pablo Cruise- Worlds Away (1978)
Few artists manage to make a nautical connection right in the name of their group. Basically, there’s Captain and Tennille, and these guys. Then they hammer it home with a palm tree in their logo, a sunset on the cover, and a title that suggest a boat trip! “Love Will Find A Way” is a bona fide Yacht Rock anthem.



Rupert Holmes- Partners in Crime (1979)
With one breezy tune known as “Escape (The Piña Colada Song),” Rupert Holmes beat Jimmy Buffett at his own game. (For the record, Buffett is not considered Yacht Rock. As the web series puts it he’s, "mellow, but not smooth. Kinda $#!tty.") But Rupert’s notion of an island escape is second hand. He seems to sing from the perspective of an average joe to whom the Yacht Rock lifestyle is more of a coffee break fantasy. The album’s lyrics sound like they came the journal of a college freshman venting his frustration with women, but his dorky sincerity makes you almost feel sorry for him. Who puts “If you have half a brain.” in a singles ad?




10cc- Motion Picture Soundtrack (1980)
The album is not the soft rock epic you might expect based on their hit “I’m Not In Love.” These guys are art rockers that happened to make a song that sounds great while holding hands in the sunset.




Hall and Oates- Private Eyes (1981)
In the Yacht Rock series, Hall and Oates are the antagonists, but they’re sort of like East Coast, Atlantic Ocean Yacht Rock since they’re from Philadelphia. They’re more influenced by Motown than by jazz, but still, they’re smooth players who have been listened to on more than a few boats.

VINTAGE AD SHEETS

My grandpa could put the name of your business or organization on anything— mostly cheap plastic things like magnets, coasters, key chains, pens, and balloons. He was able to feed his family one gross of custom printed ice scrapers at a time. When I was a kid, his home office was a wonderland of catalogs, salesman kits, and product samples. Over the years his products became increasingly newfangled as the novelties got more novel in an effort to boost their attention-getting powers. He always had extra goodies so after every visit we would return with a bounty of new knick knacks that found their way into our kitchen drawers and our everyday lives. These items promoted stores we'd never heard of that resided in far away towns we'd never visit, but that mattered not, because the potholders protected our hands, and the chip clips kept our Cheetos fresh.

One of the joys of my visits was flipping though grandpa's binders of product ads. As is the case with many wholesale operations, his vendors promoted their new products with single, hole-punched ad sheets so that he could customize and update his personal master catalog. The items inside were things that wouldn't typically get the full page, full color treatment. This made the experience unique, and I always appreciated getting to peek behind the curtain of the retail world.

Luggage tags and key fobs must have been a hot seller for my grandpa because the Tag-Master logo became very familiar to me...


I'm not sure how well they sold, but one of the staples of my grandparents' house were these "Coinsters" coasters, which were usually covered with a huge glass of sweet iced tea wrapped in a paper towel.

Our car was always equipped with a litterbag. The holes at the top would fit over the door locks so they'd inevitably fall off when you pushed down to lock them. The other option was to hang them from the knobs on the car's window roller-uppers. I'll never forget the feeling of the stuffed bag of debris whipping around anytime I tried to roll down my window.


Thanks to ebay, and one powerseller in particular named "powerrangers," I've been able to relive this pastime of perusing old ad sheets. I've handpicked some of my favorites from literally thousands of listings, and shared them here.

Now that I'm looking at them through the eyes of a graphic designer there's even more for me to ponder. The layouts are usually stark and utilitarian. They are almost un-designed, yet there are still some typefaces and subtle flourishes and color pallets to take in (some calculated, many not at all). One thing that I'm drawn to are the backgrounds which are often monochromatic voids, simple, yet better than white. But that's enough of me acting like there's some sort of academic reason to look at these. They are pure eye candy for more reasons than I can name. So start looking.





Oh, no! You mean the gigantic hideous clown face has been discontinued?


There may or may not be an unfortunate name among these.


Igor The Monster is the clear winner here.


Everything about this is so right.
Ever notice that some products look very enticing when in bunches, but when you come away with just one it feels like a letdown?




Hats off to Classy Glass who put together this spread complete with peanuts and a mysterious dark jungle. I wonder whose idea it was to dump the icy liquid on the table?

I'm very fond of this Sun Packer ad. It goes to show how some simple dots and a cool typeface can make a cooler seem glamorous.
 
Ah, the Howard Johnson color scheme is always welcome. I also love how they made the asterisk on "Coffee pot and casserole not included" into a cool mid-century style starburst.

Everything about this image brings comfort to my soul.



Even gumball machine charms need to be advertised!
I can't believe this existed...
 

Just typing this description is going to be fun—Vintage over-sized inflatable advertising displays

A five foot dedicated Wacky Straw display for your store? They wish!
What a glorious dream, to be touring some vacationland, to enter a souvenir shop and come face to face with this neatly arranged assortment of Impko products.

Or how about this glorious dream? You're a kid, it's October and you're walking into a store. There are footprints on the floor that say "This way to lucky box." You follow them to find a giant toy-filled Jack-o-lantern!!


The giant toy-filled stocking, rocket, and Easter bunny are all incredible, but they can never compete with the Halloween-related dream.

From what corporate hell did this emerge? I would spitefully dial some long distance numbers using the exposed keys...
My grandpa's binders didn't usually have actual toys, but that doesn't stop me from appreciating this assortment of toy ad sheets...

It's not often that copy writers get to use the terms "disfigured face" and "sinister acts of terror" in the same spot.
"You can make a kid's dreams come true with a replica [of the Greatest American Hero's Convertible Bug.]"

It's never too early to teach kids about the sex appeal of fast food.
  
The Snap Fit line from, I believe 1974.


This is like a glimpse into an alternate reality where novelties get the marketing attention they deserve.

I like to imagine that this appeared in Time Magazine.

You can keep your Farmville and Candy Crush, these are portable apps, Grandpa Style!
Today I am thankful for witnessing the massive furry owl.
The "Superman II tray / Lipton's Noodle soup" combo nursed me back to health countless times.


Welp, you won't be seeing anything better for the rest of the day, that's for sure.

HAVE YOU SEEN THIS PAINTING?

The only existing photo of the missing painting, laden with compression artifacts since it was taken in 1999 with a cheap digital camera.
Missing since: July 18, 2003
Location last seen: 2003 San Diego Comic Con
Artist: Me, though the painting is unsigned by me.
Description: An oil painting of a unicorn standing in the foreground with a thought bubble asking, "Why?" There's a nuclear power plant in the distance.
Other identifiable markings: Signature of Matt Groening, drawing of Bart Simpson on the bottom right corner. (Not seen in above photo)
Size: 18" x 24"

The story:
I longed to visit the San Diego Comic Con since I first read about it in the back of the 1986 Overstreet Comic Book Price Guide. It took seventeen years for me to find friends with the same wish, but once we discovered our common goal the other pieces quickly fell into place, and soon we were packing our bags.

I was thrilled to see Matt Groening on the list of attending guests because no work of art is wedged deeper into my psyche than The Simpsons.  Then a natural fanboy impulse occurred to me; I wondered if I could get his signature. I was no autograph hound, I did own a couple that I happened upon at some small sci-fi fests, but this would be the first time I had a chance to get something signed by a true cultural hero of mine. The fact that the autograph roster had no listing for Groening didn't deter my hopes. 

I was searching for the perfect autograph-ready object when my wife suggested that I bring an oil painting that I did during the summer of 1997. My painting (seen above) is a reproduction of a cartoon painting that appears in the episode "Brush With Greatness" (Season 2, Ep. 18). In the show, this piece is a finalist in an art competition before it gets narrowly defeated by Marge's depiction of Homer passed out in his underwear.






Though it only appears onscreen for a split second I've always considered it one of the highlights of the episode. It perfectly satirizes what happens when an artist has a message, but no sense of subtlety. I was tired of pausing my VCR to get a laugh at it, so I decided to paint it. It was like bringing a Simpsons prop into the real world and hanging it on my wall.
I was hesitant to bring it to Comic Con for many reasons: I didn't want anything to happen to it, packing it would be tough, and it seemed weird to ask Groening to sign something that I had created, I thought it might even be forbidden.  But all of my other options were typical licensed trinkets, so uniqueness won and I stuffed the painting in my suitcase.

When I arrived at the San Diego Convention Center my first task was to locate the Bongo Comics booth and get the scoop on Groening. I was told that there would indeed be an unannounced autograph session the next day! But you had to have a Bart Buck, a ticket they issued to control the number of autograph seekers. Also, the Bart Bucks were all gone. Oh, well.

At Friday morning breakfast a buddy shared a rumor that another round of Bart Bucks would be issued at 10:00 AM. I leapt from the table, but was defused when I saw that it was already 10:30. However, this second round gave me hope. I raced to the vendor floor and it turned out the Bart Bucking was rescheduled for 2:30 that afternoon!

At 1:45 the booth was empty enough to roll around on the floor. (I did not.)  It seemed we had time for a quick bathroom break, but this was the thinking of a Comic Con novice. Upon our return, the booth and surrounding aisles were congested with legions of Buck seekers to the extent that officials were discussing fire code violations, and even shutting down the session. The rest was a sweaty blur. A line was roped off around us, and after snaking through it for about ten minutes I was handed a slip of green paper bearing Bart's face. Only about a half-dozen people behind me got one before the supply was cut off.

The Buck entitled me to enter an enormous sun-lit greenhouse of a room where I walked past Lou Ferrigno, Peter Mayhew, and the guy who played The Greatest American Hero before seeing the winding serpent of lucky Groening fans sitting on the floor in wait.

I'll summarize the next three hours. I talked with my friends Erik and Todd. I read every comic, pamphlet, and button I had accumulated. I grew more and more worried that he would not sign my painting. At one point two of the four main hobbits occupied the table next to us...

Once they were done, Kevin Smith took the slot for more of the same...


I never thought I would live an hour watching Kevin Smith talk to people. You might think this situation would merit at least one anecdote worthy of at least one extra sentence, but it did not. If you stop and imagine the moment right now, I promise you the real event was in no way different than what you just envisioned.

Once Groening was in viewing distance I understood why the line was so slow. He was chatting, posing for photos, and in most cases, drawing character requests for every fan he met. It was really amazing. I also noticed a sign on the table that said "NO SKETCHBOOKS" which I still don't understand given the many drawings he made. But it was enough to stoke my fears anew for the final forty-five minutes.

We made it to Matt's table and he looked beat. He was sweaty and lethargic and nearly opted out of the photo that my friend Erik requested. Matt's assistant asked my name and wrote it on a piece of paper. When it was my turn he slid it over to Groening as I nervously pulled the painting from my bag and said, "You may recognize this image."
He squinted at it and said, "Oh, yeeeeeaaaahh." clearly unable to place it. I explained the context as other people around me chimed in with comments and questions. Matt continued to stare at it.
Fearing his thought process I said to him, "if you have any problem with signing someone else's work, you could just put "not painted by Matt Groening" or something like that."
"You sure you want me to sign it?"
Wondering if that was a hint that he didn't want to, I said, "I would love for you to sign it."
He began drawing Bart's head and a word balloon saying "Great art, man!" Then Groening asked, "So this was a Marge painting?" and I explained again.
Then he told me, "It's amazing."
He complimented me on the originality of the idea, and told me that I should sign it too. He's right, I should have.

I walked away from the table and stood in awe as I took in the signature and the one Bart drawing in the world that was made with me in mind. I always feel foolish admitting how exciting a celebrity encounter can be, but that meeting coupled with his reaction was exhilarating.
My other friend, Todd, was still at the autograph table and handed Matt a comic book to sign. Groening looked up at Todd (not knowing he was with me) and said, "That was un-believable."
Then someone tapped me on the shoulder and pointed at Groening who was shouting "Hey!" to me. I looked over and he yelled, "That is UNBELIEVABLE!"  With my eyes all full, I yelled back a thank you, and walked away with a feeling of elation that I seldom reach.


The story, part II:
With cinematic timing, my friend Scott came running over and interrupted my afterglow to tell me we had to get to the masquerade area immediately. As a first timer, I wasn't even sure what the masquerade was, I just knew that it's considered a high point of the weekend, and contrary to my first assumption, it is not a costume ball. Best of all, we'd been invited to sit in the VIP section by David E. Allen, one of the masquerade judges who was promoting a werewolf movie he produced called Dog Soldiers which still has a large cult following. I know David because we're from the same small town, fifteen hundred miles away from San Diego.
David E. Allen, Image via Twitchfilm.com
However, this whole seating opportunity was very shaky. We wouldn't know until the last minute if there was room for us. This was a gamble because literally thousands of people had been standing in line for the event for hours, so if this didn't work we would miss it.

We shuffled over to a roped-off hallway outside of the masquerade backstage area where we joined a couple dozen more potential VIP seaters. We arrived just as the group was permitted into a room to receive instructions on how to behave as a VIP. I quickly learned that this privilege was very serious business. I don't know if that's always the case, or if it was because it had been less than two years since 9/11. A stern man with a headset and a clipboard told us to listen up because failure to follow his rules would result in removal from the premises. The rules went something like this:

1. There's no way of knowing exactly what time we'll be called, IF we're called, so we must REMAIN ALERT!

2. We have to be prepared to RUSH into the auditorium at a moments notice. So we must have everything ready to go IMMEDIATELY! If we don't make it in with the rest of the group, we don't get in.

3. We will NOT HAVE BACKSTAGE ACCESS or be given passes of any kind. We will only pass through quickly to our seats.

4. As we are being ushered through backstage we MUST STAY CLOSE TO OUR GUIDE, or we will be thrown out.

5. Once we are seated we are NOT PERMITTED TO GET UP FOR ANY REASON! So go to the bathroom now.

6. Once inside the auditorium we MUST STAY THERE FOR THE DURATION OF THE PROGRAM.

7. Once the show is over we must REMAIN IN OUR SEATS until we are ushered back out.

After the briefing I was both excited and stressed, and I had a new appreciation for the opportunity I'd stumbled into. The orders had momentarily distracted me from my Groening victory. I pulled the painting out of its large plastic bag for another look, and settled back into bliss.

For the next while we were in a true hurry-up-and-wait situation. The call could come at any second, but the interim stretched until anticipation turned to boredom. It felt longer than it was given our confinement to a small conference room with no windows and no smart phones to check, being that it was 2003. Some people started spilling into the hallway where the door opposite revealed a sunny outdoor balcony. My buddies and I opted to step out for a quick photo overlooking the San Diego scenery. I put my camera on self-timer and captured a split second of our—"GET IN HERE, IT'S TIME! NOW!"

I scurried to get my camera back in the bag while slinging my backpack over my shoulder and trying to catch up with the group that was quickly funneling into the backstage area. We made it to the back of the speed-walking procession. With all the efficiency we'd come to expect, we soon found ourselves seated in the front row. I turned around in my seat, careful not to raise my body into anything that could be misconstrued as standing, and I saw thousands of eager people sitting in a room that was larger than a football field.

Then the lights went down. The cheers only sounded human for a moment before my ear drums capped out, and my physiological hardware could no longer offer my brain anything it could make sense of. The energy was unlike anything I'd felt. Frisson tingles sparkled all over my head and neck.

With no introduction, a fan film appeared on the giant suspended screens called Batman: Dead End. Without spoiling it, the film combines several beloved characters, and it's impossible to exaggerate the ecstatic response from the crowd. This was followed by a string of movie trailers that had yet to be seen anywhere. The crowd was so hot that even the preview for I,Robot got explosive screams. Then Robert Englund took the stage, the man who played Freddy Kreuger! 


As an official Freddy Fan Club member I took a moment to reflect on how surreal it was to see Englund just after meeting Matt Groening, and again I was reminded of the joyfu—WAIT! WHERE IS THE PAINTING!? I felt all around my feet and frantically asked my friends about it. Oh, no. Did I even bring it in the auditorium? My mind flashed to our hurried exit from the balcony. The balcony!

I started to stand when the tirade of rules flooded my mind. I was trapped. The painting had only been unattended for about fifteen minutes and the balcony wasn't accessible to the public so I still had hope, but still, I was trapped.
"I think I've got to go back." I told my friend.
Erik's eyes widened and he laughed in disbelief. Then he thought about it and said, "Do it."
I sat frozen and looked past rows of people to the backstage door which was very small from this distance.

I stood up and race-walked towards the forbidden area. Everyone in the auditorium was too busy looking at the stage to care. I reached the backstage and found it nearly empty. Then I heard, "Sir?...Sir!" and I quickened my pace. I realized that I didn't know where our waiting room was and remembered that it wasn't a straight shot out. I veered down a couple dead ends before getting back on track. In the process I encountered more staff, but I decided to play it confident, looking them in the eye and nodding. It worked a couple times, but then I heard, "Excuse me!" and I broke into a trot.

I burst through the waiting room door and out to the balcony. The whole place was deserted, but also absent was the painting. My next move was to scan the nearest portion of the massive vendor floor, but there was a problem. The painting was in a large Tokyopop bag that I'd received as a freebie promotional item. Literally thousands of these bags had been handed out since the first night of the convention.


I rounded the corner to see hundreds of suspects bearing the identical sack. I could only think of Raiders of the Lost Ark as Indy faces the multitude of baskets in the marketplace, knowing that one of them contains his precious Marion. I eyeballed some closer than others, and peeked down into a few, but deep down I knew my search was futile. I sought out "lost and found," but they were unavailable until the next day. (I filed a report, but the painting was never submitted.)

Soon I was wandering aimlessly in a cloud of heartbreak. To top it off my friends wouldn't be released from the VIP section for at least an hour. Having nothing left to lose I decided to reclaim my front row seat in the masquerade. I pushed open the backstage door and walked through the halls with a steady, solemn stride, like a grizzled action hero walking away from an explosion. Someone appeared behind me. "Hey!...Sir!" I continued on. Then from the other side, "Can I help you?!" "Hey!" But I'd made it back to the show where my seat awaited me.

I updated my friends, and then tried to lose myself in the festivities. I discovered that the masquerade is primarily a costume showcase where cosplayers (a term that may not have existed yet) took turns parading around the stage.



There were some truly amazing entries, but in my lousy mood I couldn't understand all the hype. I asked my friends if they wanted to leave early with me. Their initial response was, "Are you serious?" but moments later the three of us walked the unauthorized, yet familiar path to the exit, unquestioned by the authorities. Then we carefully considered our options, and the only one that made any sense was to take a train to Tijuana, but that's another story.

Epilogue: 
During the plane trip home I wrote an account of the whole experience (which is why so many of the details survived.) I ended by saying, "I will paint another one. Two actually, one for Matt and one for me. This is just the beginning."

During the months that followed I couldn't bring myself to watch The Simpons. But I did make good on my vow, and repainted the scene twice. 


Miraculously, I was able to return to the convention the very next year because a short that my friends and I made was accepted into their film festival. I also managed to run into Groening the first day and tell him my tale.





He was prohibited to sign or take anything in the common areas, but Bart Bucks were bestowed upon me, and after another three hour line he took my gift, signed my new painting, and posed for this wonderful photo...
 

He said he'd hang the painting near the bathrooms at the Bongo Comics headquarters. He joked that it would reside "right next to the other one."

At this point I'm at peace with the loss of other one. I do regret that my reproductions ended up with a less natural look and color pallet, and weren't quite as finessed as the original. But now I have my story, my new painting, and I have a resolution. Best of all, I no longer associate The Simpsons with feelings of heartache and loss. I wish I could say the same about Family Guy.


 "Why?" version two, signed by Matt (and me). 
Still, I'm extremely curious about what happened to the original, even if I don't get it back. I'd love to hear about its journey, or even see where it hangs, if it's hanging. If you have any information regarding the first painting, please comment on this post or email me. You can do so anonymously if you wish. I also invite you to share my story anywhere you see fit. I can't offer a grand reward, but I'm sure I could come up with something fun.

MY ROOM- EARLY 90s EDITION

1985 (junior high)
Previously on Secret Fun Blog I shared photos of my bedroom at age thirteen. I recently located another one from that set (seen above) which serves as a nice contrast to a group of room shots I just found from late high school and early college. As my teenagerhood progressed my interests didn't change too dramatically. It was toys and movies throughout, except that my toys evolved into "collectibles" and my movies got more monsters in them as my bravery level increased with age. There was the addition of some music-related decor too.

1991 (high school)
My room took on a major transformation in 1988 when I repainted and carpeted the place. My folks didn't think twice when I asked to paint it black, so I was shocked when my choice of color became a hot topic among the local small town lip-flappers. People I hardly knew approached me and asked if I was doing alright. You bet I was, my room looked amazing! I liked to think that in their minds I was rolling myself in puddles of black paint and flailing against the walls, yelling about the abyss. Some actually suggested my color selection was a sign of devil worship! Believe it or not, people still bring up the black room occasionally. This really blows my mind since Satan told me he would destroy my enemies.

Thanks to the Christmas of 1989 I no longer had to share the family television set. After much painstaking TV research in the JCPenny, Sears, and Montgomery Ward catalogs I set my sights on this twenty inch model. The big attraction for me was the stereo sound it boasted. Never mind the fact that the speakers were two inches in diameter, and our cable provider only broadcast two channels in stereo. (MTV was not one of them as it was literally banned in my small, Footloose-style town.) But whenever I saw that little banner that said "In Stereo Where Available" I got a rush of smug, self-satisfaction that could last an entire episode of Major Dad.

It was around that time when I talked my folks into upgrading our eight-dollar-a-month Disney Channel to the ten-dollar-a-month HBO. They went for it and it was like getting a box office in our home. My bedroom was a 24 hour movie zone, and finally I was getting an unfiltered education of the world we live in. Each month we got the little HBO guide in the mail and I felt an obligation to see every film listed with no regard to whether or not the subject matter interested me, be it Killer Klowns from Outer Space or Barbara Streisand's Yentl. This wasn't as hard as it sounds because many of the movies were repeated dozens of times. I welcomed the beginning of each new month when the programming refreshed.
A few notes: -Those Nightmare posters came from the Freddy Fan Club I discussed here. -That thing under the TV was a collage I did for art class. -The poster behind the left speaker is of Fido Dido. I still don't understand what that's all about.-I was so proud of that Lost Boys poster because it's British and I got it from my second Sci-fi convention, called Okon.

1991 (high school)

The update to my room looked so "sophisticated" that initially I kept wall hangings to a minimum. Soon my true nature emerged and I was playing Tetris with my posters again. Speaking of posters, aside from Tron, these are all repros that I would buy from a mall gift shop called Cedrics Inc. I loved that place. In the early 80s it was decorated like the Cheers bar, and by the late 80s it looked like the "Over Our Heads" shop on The Facts of Life.
The Ninja Turtle figures were a result of my first-ever job as a landscape artist. Once bestowed with my first paycheck, I promptly cashed it and drove straight to Wal-Mart where I bought one of every Turtle figure they had, plus a radar detector. I was about to mock my immature financial decision, but then I remembered that I still have all of those carded Turtles and I could sell them now for many times their original value. The radar detector still works too, though I did outgrow my criminal driving habits.
The row of heroes were all released in the wake of consumerism from Tim Burton's Batman movie. I was too late in understanding that Kenner's "Super Powers" figures are the pinnacle of superhero toys, so I was stuck buying up the poorly designed Toy Biz line. This would lead to a self-inflicted trap of chasing down their Marvel junk for several years to come. I soon spiraled into young, dumb yet "serious" collector mode which can happen when you find yourself with a car, disposable income, Wizard magazine, and a summer break. I routinely checked a list of toy aisles and chased down "rare" variants, unaware that it had turned into a joyless chore. I've found that the cure for this syndrome is to give some of your stuff to a kid and watch them tear open the packages and play with it.


  1991 (high school) 
The closet door is covered with partial CD longboxes. Say what you will about my taste in music, but just remember that I possess the powers of darkness.
1992 (college) 


This was my set up during the second half of my freshman year. It was a pretty lousy semester for many reasons: first college girlfriend broke up with me, booted out of the dorm because I couldn't pay for it, and a dad with cancer. I didn't even care that my TV was on an egg box.

Notes:
-My kind friends got me that Pump Up the Volume display from the video store.
-That's a bean bag, not a trash bag there in the corner.
-In front of Felix, that's one of those Dr. Pepper lights with the huge flickering bulbs from the 70s.
-There are six mugs in the photo: Laurel and Hardy, King Kong and Godzilla, Howdy Doody and Betty Boop.
1992 (college)

When I was really young my mom put up panels of cork board on one wall and it enhanced my decorating forevermore. Here is a list of the things I hung on my cork board wall in 1992 (starting at the top left.)...

-Two "Appetite for Destruction" record albums, one with the "banned" Robert Williams cover-Guns N' Roses poster that a friend won at a carnival -Promotional postcard from the band L.A. Guns-Dark Knight Bruce Wayne from Kenner-Panel from The Black Orchid graphic novel-Piece of Guns  N' Roses longbox -Signed Ghost Rider #15 (1991)-Travel brochure for Terror something something-Photo of my friend Josef-Image of an old Batmobile (from the Westfield Comic Club booklet)-Creature from the Black Lagoon Halloween mask-Ink art assignment of my reflection-Mego The Thing (Back to the left)-Robotech Rick Hunter figure-Signed Sandman #1-Image of Concrete (from the Westfield Comic Club booklet) -Photos from my '91 spring break-Art assignment based on Citizen Kane-Image of Sam and Max Freelance Police-Werewolf Halloween mask-Metal Indiana Jones sign from MGM Studios, FL-Image of the band Extreme-Rubber skeleton-Hellraiser comic poster-Images of Faith No More and Nirvana-Some Clive Barker advertisement-Columbia Records metal sign purchased through Columbia House music club-3-D glasses from the movie Freddy's Dead-Photo of the moon-Image of Soundgarden-Some baseball card thing-Axl Rose sticker -Boba Fett figure-Batman sunday comic-Roger Rabbit advertising flyer-Mike and Ike pencil bag
-Groucho nose and glasses disguises-Groucho Marx disguise print -Image from a comic book, possibly The Rocketeer-Guns N' Roses magazine photo and ticket stub-Sam and Max image (from the Westfield Comic Club booklet)-Rubber skeleton from garage sale wearing gumball charm medal that says "ninja."-Lisa Frank light switch plate sticker
I feel much better now that this information is on the internet. 
In related news, there is a great Flickr set called My 80s Bedroom.