06Mar 2012

Allee Willis’ Kitsch ‘O The Day – Pufnstuffin’ With Sid Krofft

06Mar 2012

Allee Willis’ Kitsch ‘O The Day – Pufnstuffin’ With Sid Krofft

New Year’s Eve, 2011. I’m coming down Sunset Plaza, a really windy road with million dollar homes right above Sunset Blvd. in LA. I’m in my Green Beetle, which is a lean and fast machine.

Sunset Plaza’s a pain in the ass to drive under any circumstance but nightmarish should you end up behind a slowwww driver, which is what fate dealt me this New Years when I was in a big hurry to get to my destination, my friends Nancye Ferguson and Jim Burn’s pad, an ultra modern built-for-Brian-DePalma-in-the-70’s house that teeters on stilts overlooking the city. Here’s the view from the balcony:

There are very few parking spaces to accommodate a small fraction of the 50 people on their way up there. If you don’t get one of those spaces you have to turn around in a teeny tiny cul-de-sac and drive a quarter mile out the little windy road with hardly any shoulder and a drop-down of hundreds of feet. And then you’re back out on the main winding road where there are about two parking spaces for every fifty people. No way am I limping back up that hill on foot! So I start leaning on the horn behind this little black car driving at funeral speed. To my credit, I only honked when there was enough room for the stupid driver to pull over so I could pass. Finally, after five minutes the car hugs the curb and I whiz past, gunning it extra hard to show my annoyance even further.

I get to the house and thank God there’s a space left. I pull in, put some lipstick on and send a few emails on my iPad before I go in. A couple of cars pass me and I don’t see them coming back down the hill, which means they must’ve found parking spots too. I finally get out of the car and trudge the last 20 feet up to the house. Standing there is my good friend, Beverly D’Angelo, with a guy I don’t know. Beverly and I go way back and I love her. She’s also an excellent party guest, a criteria I have incredibly high standards for, and has been coming to mine for years.

Just as I’m getting in hugging range I hear Snappy P yell, “Green Beetle, that must have been Allee!”. “You fucking asshole, you almost drove us off the road!!,” screams Beverly as I approach. Oh shit, I rarely misbehave behind the wheel anymore and now I’ve gone and terrorized a friend. But then it gets worse, “Meet Sid Krofft,” she says, referring to the mystery man next her, adding that she brought him to the party specifically to meet me. Now I’ve been waiting to meet this guy since the late 60’s when his puppets, marionettes and insane live action shows started ruling TV and now I’ve almost killed him. “I wanted to get out of the car and tell you what an asshole you were” he says. Thank God the Beetle was turbo-charged and he didn’t have a chance. I ate a lot of crow for the next few minutes, but it was immediately apparent that Beverly was completely right. This guy was a kindred spirit and we hit it off like we had known each other for decades.


Though Beverly had told Sid he HAD to come to Willis Wonderland, I went to his place first, now a couple weeks ago. I took hundreds of photos but I can’t show any of them because Sid’s a really private guy. But it’s as handcrafted as my place is times 6 trillion-on-steroids.

In actuality, I didn’t really get full tilt into the Kroffts back in the day when their shows were on the air because by then I was way way way deep into records and the radio. As a fan and later as a songwriter, when my radio habit lurched into twelfth gear and I lived and breathed music every millisecond of every day, I was still aware of that Sid and Marty Krofft name and that it stood for something crazy. But it really wasn’t until so many friends of mine insisted I go to an auction of their props at the Beverly Hills Hotel in 1998 that I realized the extent of that craziness as well as the magnitude of its reach. As a kitsch lover, how could I have not been familiar with every single detail of the Kroffts’ career, the guys on the throne at the top of the kitsch mountain??

YouTube, of course, makes for an excellent crash course. So I’ve seen more of the Krofft brothers’ magic in the last month than I have in my lifetime. And my respect and discovery of the depth of influence their work had on me subliminally has been a revelation. H.R. Pufnstuf is probably their most classic:

I don’t like to wake up early for social visits but at 82, Sid Krofft is in REMARKABLE shape, jogging 9 miles a day + a couple hours in the gym, so he’s raring to go when the sun comes up. 10:30 bright and early a couple of Tuesdays ago he and Beverly were at my doorstep.

I even got it together to cut up healthy food for him.

This is a BIG step for me as this is what’s more likely to be on that table on a regular basis:

Sid was as fascinated by Willis Wonderland as I was of his hand-built abode. As my yard is part of my living room, we hit that first.

Although it was raining when I took the following shot, you need to see those GORGEOUS 1950’s fiberglas fish lounges sans people:

As we strolled around outside we were joined by Donny Molls, a great artist and Sid’s next door neighbor:

We stopped and chatted in every room:

My downstairs, where that shot was taken, is particularly packed with memorabilia, some of which is Krofft Brothers stuff I’m happy to say I had the good sense to collect even if I wasn’t sure exactly what it was when I bought it.

If you’ve never seen Electra Woman and Dyna Girl, double up your sedation and watch now! EASILY one of the greatest title sequences in the annals of kitschdom:

Thank god I had a few View Master disks of Electra Woman and Dyna Girl in my collection too:

Sid and Michael Jackson were great friends so I pointed out some of my primo MJ cheese:

You really need to see what I’m pointing at. Yeah, I got the doll and the puzzle like a zillion other people…

…but who else do you know who has the drink cooler?! This is easily my favorite piece of MJ memorabilia I own:

When we got to my dining room…

… Sid posed in front of Mr. Wah Wah, a stunning portrait painted by my alter-ego, Bubbles the artist.:

We spent a lot of time in my recording studio too.

Although Sid has a computer he’s not obsessed with them as I am of my 11 networked Macs. So what we really wanted to do was show him how much of his stuff is online.

And there’s gaggles of it – H.R. Pufnstuf, Land Of The Lost, The Bugaloos, Lidsville, The Donny and Marie Show, not to mention Electra Woman and Dyna Girl for starters. And no exploration of Sid and Marty Kroffts would be complete without the Brady Bunch Variety Hour:

The Brady Bunch is certainly coming up A LOT lately!

One of THE most classic and cheesiest shows EVER on TV was called Pink Lady and Jeff. 1981. I remember being so intrigued by that nutty title that I tried to catch the show whenever I could. Imagine the complete and total ecstasy-breakdown I had when I saw the Pink ladies immortalizing my song,”Boogie Wonderland”:

Watching this again with the creator of that show who was totally in on the cheese joke of it all was even more thrilling. As we were poking around doing searches on YouTube I discovered that not only did Pink Lady do that quintessential performance of the song, they also recorded it. I’m still gasping for breath:

What a day I spent with the gang. Here’s one last parting shot for the photo LP before everyone left:

I sho love me some Sid Krofft!!


08Feb 2012

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Abbey Rents Bedpan Ashtray

08Feb 2012

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Abbey Rents Bedpan Ashtray

.

I can think of a lot of things to rent from Abbey Rents but I prefer them to be more in the mode of party supplies than bedpans.

I’m not too big on being sick to begin with.

I’ve been on crutches a few times and still keep a spare pair in the basement. Here was the last time I had them out when I had a torn meniscus in my knee last summer.

I don’t always dress that nice when I’m on crutches but I’m always lucky enough to have friends who do volunteer nurse duty, as was the case with Nancye Ferguson who agreed to match nurses caps and masks with me. I was high enough from those drugs she was dispensing that I didn’t need to worry about snuffing anything out in my bedpan ashtray.

If I think about going one step further and ever end up having to deal with a wheelchair I would soup one up the same way I’ve done with other things on wheels, like this golf cart I customized for a Cars video back in the day. It went from this…

… to this:

While I was writing The Color Purple I was racing back and forth between LA and New York so much and not finding a doctor who could figure out why my leg was hurting. It got so bad I actually switched from crutches to a walker. Believing it’s best to share one’s problems with one’s friends, I threw a party to show off my new mode of transportation.

Ultimately, I’d rather be getting around via golf cart then crutches or walker any day, but should I ever need to up my inventory of sick room devices I will most surely call Abby Rents.

 

23Jan 2012

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Cake Sponges

23Jan 2012

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Cake Sponges

I don’t know about you but anytime I’ve tried to use a sponge made out of this kind of super-aerated foam I may as well be dragging a Kleenex over what I’m trying to clean. In other words, this never would have made it home with me had  the three sponges that comprise it arranged into anything other than a piece of cake. Although it’s a little generous to call sponge #3, the strawberry, a sponge:

Barely over in inch high, it would be more appropriate to call it an all-too-tiny piece of foam that your cat or child could choke on.

I will say that the frosting sides of the two pieces of cake are more practical than the cake portion itself. Although the form underneath doesn’t give it much support, at least there’s a shot of scraping something off a surface if one positions their cake right.

As tempting as the sponge is to eat, it comes with ample warning:

I just noticed when reading the label that this is actually called the “Shortcake sponge”. I don’t know about you, but any shortcake I’ve eaten has a more biscuit-like texture. This is a stone cold plain ol’ slice of vanilla cake with strawberry frosting.

The slices are made by one of my favorite companies for these kind of products that at once make sense and don’t make sense. Made in China but produced for Japan by Daiso.


Some of my other favorite essential Daiso products include the sauna jacket…

…the apple comb…

… the Mayonnaise Case…

… the portable banana keeper…

… and the Love coasters.

The designers at Daiso must’ve been so excited about the impracticability of the tiny pop-out letters of the Love  coaster that they decided to go for it again with that stupid strawberry.

But God love them for the kitsch they create like the good-enough-to-eat-but-not-good-enough-to-clean-your-dishes cake sponge.



05Dec 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Insane Pencil Cases

05Dec 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Insane Pencil Cases

If I thought Indonesia could slam it out of the park as far as they shot this kitsch-krested pencil case every time they turned out another product I’d sign up for the mystery package monthly home delivery! Man, this thing is truly insane. Big, ratty cabbage patch-reminiscent heads with little tuffs of madness as limbs…

…and what looks like laundry lint for hair.

And how about that nose?!  Eyes don’t seem very important to this pencil case.

Lucky for me, there were three of these tucked into the bin at Dollar Tree.

Apparently, 2/3s of the litter are elephants:

Although they only got half as much lace around the collar as their sock muffin sister, they got much fancier fabric for cuffs, or should I say arms.

I never would have pegged these pouches as pencil cases.

Although there’s a nice supply of shredded paper inside keeping the little girls/boys/unidentifiable lifeforms nice and plump,…

…the cases aren’t quite long enough to get a whole pencil in should you be starting with a brand new just-sharpened-once one.  It’s an excellent sign in a kitsch world when what the purpose of an object hasn’t been taken into account in its design.


So girl/boy/unidentifiable lifeform, smile for the camera, though not necessarily the pencil case!

07Sep 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Gay Parisian Ashtray

07Sep 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Gay Parisian Ashtray

Gay as in ye ol’ sense of the word: happy, frolicking through the streets of Paris with n’ary a concern in the world. I love this Little ashtray for much more than its gayness however. Above all, I relish the little paint mounds that stand above all the matte black surfaces.

It’s hard to really tell from the photo – and I took at least 20 of ’em trying to get the little white mounds of glaze to properly pop – but you can see the little nubs of the sweater and those puffed locks of yellow blond hair and get an idea of the dimension of the glaze. Shoulder pads were a big 1940’s fashion trend, which I’m sure influenced this 1950’s design, so it’s a shame the white won’t photograph right. Of course, it’s a bigger shame that I don’t know how to shoot with anything other than auto focus…. Maybe you can see the gay raised paint splotches better on her skirt:

I love when you can see the imperfections in the glaze. It adds to the handpainted feel. Which someone did, though I’ve tried to make out the name unsuccessfully for 25 years since I’ve owned this thing.

I love the sidewalk treatment:

So Atomically perfect in design, splotched right on the pavement from the artist’s palette. I love her shoes too, though doesn’t one foot look five sizes larger than the other?

The fringe on the dress is etched into the clay. I love this reverse effect.

Other Parisian essentials, an umbrella…

…and The Eiffle Tower:

But the big mysetery is why a French Poodle wasn’t thrown into the mix? That particular canine so often accompanied French designs in the 1950’s.

Missing poodle acknowledged, this gay Parisian ashtray is still one of my fave ash receptacles.  May you all have a very gay day and remember to deposit your ashes in a stylish gay ashtray for optimum esthetic enjoyment.

 

15Aug 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Lenny Dee’s King’s Inn Peekaboo Window Glass

15Aug 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Lenny Dee’s King’s Inn Peekaboo Window Glass

Several things about this glass have all the earmarks of Kitsch with a kapital K. First of all, it’s from a piano bar restaurant. Second, the name Lenny Dee is a perfect name for a player at a piano bar. Third, there’s Lenny himself, festooned in the perfect polyester outfit, visible through the oval peekaboo window on the front of the glass. Fourth, the piano keys go all the way around the glass as opposed to just in the front.

I’m not sure what’s happening on Lenny’s ultra long 70’s pointy collar polyester shirt but it’s the perfect design complement to the piano keys above him. Lenny’s comb-over and especially hairy hands are also excellent graphic touches for a drinking glass.

In case you can’t get a clear shot of Lenny once your glass is filled with liquid, there’s a non-peekaboo photo of him on the back.

I’m assuming the ‘O’ around Lenny’s head is a record and not a halo:

Then again, maybe it’s an ‘O’ and his last name is O’Dee and not Dee.  This led me to google Lenny.

I found out that Lenny no-O Dee made a few records and was an awesome organist. Just listen:

He was quite the talker too:

Treasure Island, Florida appears to be the perfect place for Lenny to be doing his magic.

According to Wikipedia, “Treasure Island got its name after several property owners attempted to boost sales of the properties by first burying and then “discovering” a couple of wooden chests on the beach. After claiming the chests were filled with treasure the news of the discovery quickly spread and people began calling the island Treasure Island.”

I think Lenny Dee is the buried treasure (he passed away in 2006). I’ve had this glass staring at me in my kitchen for years but only now decided to see who Lenny actually was. His organ sound slays me – he worked hard getting all that reverb – and I shall forever enjoy drinking out of him!


03Aug 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – ‘I Have No Idea What This Is’ Bag Or Something

03Aug 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – ‘I Have No Idea What This Is’ Bag Or Something

Judging from the photo on the package I suppose this is some sort of little storage bag or purse or something but the only thing that I can tell from the labeling is that it’s “New” and its name is perilously close to the weight loss drug in the mid 90s that took a whole lotta people out.

Unless you can make sense of it also being “Nearby double seam, abrasive resistance” and that it “Prevents the washings to distort, tie the knot.” But it’s actually the last important point about the product that’s my favorite: “The good classification, the clean is clean”.

This mangled translation, of course, makes me love this product no matter what its use. Serious kitsch value is in leaving the package undisturbed and never knowing the true nature of the contents. And you won’t get help from the back of the package either:

This is what I LOVE about 99¢ and dollar stores. You would think for overstock product shipped from overseas that they would at least slap a label on that told you clearly what was inside. Though for a buck I guess they’re counting on the fact that if you can even guess what it is it’s such a bargain you’re gonna go home with it anyway. For me, it was enough to see psychedelically influenced flowers printed on shades of pink mesh that did it:

Because  it has a zipper I might put my money down on makeup pouch. Or perhaps a small storage bag. I did a search for the company name, Fenfang, but all I found was a Chinese restaurant in Cochin, wherever that is, and a Fen Fang, a praying mantis that’s eating a cricket, on YouTube. Neither one of these give me any clue as to what the mysterious mesh flower artifact is. Hmmm, maybe you stick something like nylons, which I haven’t worn in decades, in so they don’t tangle while drying quickly?

Ultimately, none of this matters as I’m way more attached to packaging that makes no sense than I am to having one more little case that can get lost in the bottom of my drawer only to have me discover it years later and re-gift it.

19Jul 2011

Allee Willis Kitsch O’ The Day – Hollywood Finger Cigarette Ring

19Jul 2011

Allee Willis Kitsch O’ The Day – Hollywood Finger Cigarette Ring

The only thing I love more than a really bad fashion idea is a really excellent display card to feature it on. The idea of a cigarette ring, or any kind of a ring to park some kind of smokable in, is actually pretty great were the part of the ring meant to hold the smoldering log large enough to accommodate it. But in the case of the Hollywood Finger Ring, unless you’re packing Virginia Slims, that ain’t going to happen.

Though they do suggest this:

Then again, why don’t you just carry a blowtorch? But, if we give some license and assume that a cigarette or some other rolled substance would, in fact, fit into the little carriage, here are some of the many instances in which such a ring would come in very handy:

As much as I abhor cigarettes or being in the vicinity of someone else partaking of the habit, I really think this is a brilliant concept. However, in addition to the already discussed too small opening for an actual sized cig, the rings are made of colorful plastic. Which means that they would most likely appeal most to kids. Who we don’t want to encourage to smoke. So this brilliant concept = stupid product.  Which is just what we love placing on the shelves here at The Allee Willis Museum Of Kitsch.


08Jul 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Kellogg’s Cereal Microcamera & Shooting “Born In Detroit”

08Jul 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Kellogg’s Cereal Microcamera & Shooting “Born In Detroit”

I spent most of Wednesday afternoon being photographed and interviewed for “Born in Detroit,” a book by Jenny Risher “celebrating Detroit as a unique place that’s cultivated an extraordinary number of singularly influential people.”

To say that I’m elated about being included with the likes of Berry Gordy, Lily Tomlin, Iggy Pop, Eminem, Elmore Leonard, Jerry Bruckheimer, Al Kaline, Smokey Robinson, Holland-Dozier-Holland, Michael Moore and more is an understatement. But it was SO hot yesterday in LA – and my house, at least the room we were shooting in, is largely glass, not the space of choice for a 100+ day – it rendered the photo subject a perpetual waterfall.

The sweat isn’t so visible in that photo but the tuckeredoutness is. It was all I could do to suck on my Vernor’s, Detroit’s finest beverage, to stay cool.

After having almost every relic of my childhood, including photographs and Hi-8 footage, thrown out long ago by my father in a fit of bowing to my stepmother’s wishes to get rid of all the “junk”, in my later years I’ve been fanatic about taking photos. Especially since digital cameras have replaced the torture of buying endless rolls of film that can spoil in the sun, waiting weeks for the drugstore to deliver the oftentimes-blurry-yet-previously-undetectably-so shots, and then misplacing photos after they overtake drawers. This still doesn’t stop me from collecting vintage cameras though:

Nowhere near as elegant as the lipstick camera, my little Kellogg’s honey was a giveaway with a few cereal boxtops. Even cheaper if you had the discount card.

The microcamera is a diminutive 3″ x 1.5″ x 1″.

It’s still in the original box.

It takes 110 film….

….though none is inserted in my Kellogg’s.

I actually have some 110 film in my freezer as we speak because another one of my cameras uses it.

You ought to see that one from the front. It goes nicely with the Kellogg’s cam.

But in truth, neither the Velveeta nor the Kellogg’s take good photos. Which is just as well because as soon as the shoot was done I set my can of Vernors down and it tipped over on the Velveeta cam.

Which is better than if it spilled on the photographer’s autographed computer signed by most of the Detroiters she’d shot for the book.

“Born in Detroit” should be out sometime around Christmas.  Until then I can only hope for cooler weather in LA, more Vernors in the frig, and a safe sleep for my Made-in-Taiwan-by-way-of-Kalamazoo Kellogg’s microcam, another Michigan native.

 

06Jul 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Fill ‘Er Up Ashtray and the Casey Anthony Verdict

06Jul 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Fill ‘Er Up Ashtray and the Casey Anthony Verdict

Fill ‘Er Up with bull#!@t I say to that jury in the Casey Anthony trial coming up with a not guilty verdict!  They have to have chugged the same Kool-Aid as those defense lawyers, all too often a glutinous breed whose choice of which side of the justice line to stand on makes me ill to begin with. Clinging to the edges of the glass with theories they never even tried to prove and lucky enough to serve the brew to twelve people whose only excuse is that their Florida heat-soaked pea brains had no cells left to absorb any information coming from the prosecution.

Did you hear J. Cheney Mason’s arrogant and idiotic comments after the trial? It rivaled the jury’s lack of conscience. Even Casey Anthony can’t believe what she’s hearing:

I’ve been pretty glued to Nancy Grace/Jane Velez-Mitchell throughout this case and certainly remained so yesterday.

Jane turned the camera towards the courthouse doors, behind which the defense team were having a celebratory champagne toast. And then again at a bar across the street from the courthouse. I don’t see how anyone could have tried this case without being drunk or so high on something all of their senses and any shred of conscience was too numb to be fully functioning.

Even the name of the artist whose work graces this ashtray, though missing an ‘a’ between the ‘M’ and ‘c’, suggests the name of another murderous character.

I can only hope that Casey Anthony will walk the same torturous path that Macbeth did after he snuffed out a life. Perhaps the jurors will walk a path to Casey’s house for the parties she will inevitably throw, so skillful is she at paddling murky waters with her self-soaked criminal brain and flipper feet that left no tracks in the swamp.

How many more shocking things can come out of Florida? This is a state I once loved because of all the fantastic childhood trips I took to Miami Beach. But between the 2000 election, this trial, and all the other nonsensical stuff that’s poured out of it in the last decade, my guard is up.

I know it’s not everyone and every county there. But as long as Casey Anthony is hitting the shopping malls, tattoo parlors and party stores, I’ve had my Fill ‘Er Up of Fla. To you twelve jurors specifically, too lily-livered to speak to the media and tell us your reasoning, if you have kids I hope you’re treating them better than you treated Caylee. For now, just smoke your brains out and try to forget the decision you made. If you need an ashtray, this one’s for you.