22Jun 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – ‘Can Ya Dig It’ Patch

22Jun 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – ‘Can Ya Dig It’ Patch

Other then “Right on!”, there was no more popular phrase in the late 60’s and early 70’s than “Can Ya Dig It?”. Though this patch is missing the ‘?’, which makes it as kitsch as it was hip back in the day. Of course, sewing patches all over your clothes was never excessively hip but here are a couple other ones you may have sewn over holes in your bellbottoms were you of the mind:

The patches were all machine made.

I always hated what they looked like on the back. A bunch of spider veins or corpuscles.

I actually never covered myself with patches but throughout the early 70s I did walk around covered in fan club buttons.

I don’t know that I walked around spouting the phrase, “Can ya dig it?” but I sure sang it a lot as one of my favorite records of all time, “Grazin’ In The Grass” by The Friends Of Distinction, came out in 1970 and made the phrase ubiquitous.

If by chance you’re not familiar with the phrase “dig”,  here’s the definition in one of my favorite reference books from the era, The Third Ear: A Black Glossary, published in 1971 by The Better- Speech Institute of America.

“Dig” is as follows:

I have to “split” now.

I have a dentist appointment. Not sure how much I’m going “dig” that but my teeth are begging me not to give them the shaft.

 

10May 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Allee Willis Marches on Detroit! Part 15, The Miracle Dentist Story

10May 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Allee Willis Marches on Detroit! Part 15, The Miracle Dentist Story

I’m not a lover of dentists. Though I have one I do love now in LA, Dr. James Formaker, I’m still feeling repercussions from a butcher in Beverly Hills who not only put me through two unnecessary surgeries, one of which he didn’t even have conscience enough to check to see if the surgeon had preformed the correct one of – which he hadn’t – and all of which cost me over $25,000 and an even more severe price of walking around with a sore mouth for the last four years. His name is happily provided upon inquiry. But I had  a tooth adventure during my trip to Detroit a few weeks ago that completely restored my faith in these people who dutifully drill in your mouth in search of decay.

I had just finished giving my speech on the rejuvenation of Detroit at the Rust Belt to Arts Belt III conference. We were at the reception and as I chomped down on the softest of Vietnamese spring rolls I felt something lift up in my mouth.

No, this couldn’t be happening! I was in the midst of this intense trip, filming it is a documentary, doing a ton of press, with one more big performance to go. The last thing I needed, especially after hours, was trying to find a dentist in a town where I knew none.

First, Michael Poris, called someone he knew.

But that dentist sounded too too scary on the phone.

He was exceedingly pessimistic that most likely nothing could be done despite the fact that I felt all I needed was a little glue.

Then, as if the Tooth Fairy was looking down on me, someone I met only minutes before overheard the ruckus and called her dentist.

The difference of talking to Dr. Doom and the bright and sparkly personality of the woman on the end of Kathy Huber’s phone was night and day. So me and my entourage, Mark Blackwell, Laura Grover and Denise Caruso, piled into our rented van and followed this angel of mercy to Grosse Pointe Woods…

…where Dr. Kathleen Gibney met us with her two kids and dog in tow. First of all, how great is a dentist who’s already home cooking dinner who comes in after hours for someone who they don’t even know?? This woman deserves sainthood.

Dr. Gibney not only let everyone stay in the room with me, which went miles in terms of quieting my panic down,…

…but also let us document every single inch of the procedure.

She didn’t care how close the camera came.

I’m fine in almost any traumatic situation as long as a video is rolling…

…and as long as friends are along to act as dental hygienists and stick their hands in my mouth when assistance is needed.

There wasn’t an inch of pain and Dr. Gibney preformed flawlessly.

Besides Dr. Gibney’s lively, atypical-for-a-dentist personality and excellent skills, this was the dentist office of my dreams. The colors were bright and the dental chairs were comfortable, actually a perfect match for my outfit.

The last place I’d expect to find kitsch exuberantly displayed is in a dentist office. But here it was, Photoshoped photos of stars with toothbrushes…

and bottles of mouthwash.

There were oodles of excellent dentally-correct album covers, like Lou Rawls with dental floss,…

…and these folks with toothbrushes and toothpaste:

I especially liked this title spelled out in dental floss:

There were LP covers everywhere you looked.

Even the light fixtures called my name.

As fate would have it, I had 25 pounds of candy in the back of the van that I bought for my big high school marching event coming up on Saturday. I know that a dentist’s kids are the last people in the world I should be offering an opening up of the portals of chocolate to but it seemed like the perfect capper to a most unexpected evening of fun.

So rather than being in tooth trauma, I was in absolute heaven. I’ve never had such a great time at a dentist office in my life.

Thank you Kathy Huber and Jeremy Martin, pictured here at my big event Saturday morning, for leading me and my molar to salvation that fateful night.

If anyone reading this is from Detroit or surrounding areas and you’re not completely and ecstatically in love with your dentist, I don’t care how far it is to drive, a trip to Dr. Gibney’s is just what Dr. Willis orders. I even think I’ll get my teeth cleaned in Detroit just to see her again.

09May 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Allee Willis Marches on Detroit! Part 14, THE VIDEO

09May 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Allee Willis Marches on Detroit! Part 14, THE VIDEO

As I’ve been blabbing about for weeks now, I had the extreme pleasure of conducting my high school marching band playing a medley of some of my greatest hits in the lobby of the theater I grew up in in Detroit with the cast of the musical I co-wrote, The Color Purple, singing along. I meant to post video of our performance as soon as I got home but to my horror, one of the three cameramen only shot the students from the back and the other both forgot to turn his camera on for parts of songs and babbled over the footage like he was the subject of a documentary. So it took quite a lot of editing to get something where you could even begin to see the  warm, wonderful and uplifting-higher-than-the-sky feeling that permeated the theater that day.

The performance was a benfit to buy new marching band uniforms for the Mumford band. The last time they got new uniforms was in 1984 when Jerry Bruckheimer, also a Mumford grad, bought them so they could play at the premiere of Beverly Hills Cop in Detroit. I got a Grammy for Beverly Hills Cop so this entire extravaganza was tied up in one fantastically organic bow!

Also organic was my shoes and socks combo in the Mumford school colors.

I had an excellent time wearing my hat, color coordinated to The Color Purple, the matinee of which started immediately after the closing notes of the marching band. Though my hat ecstacy only lasted a couple of bars. Too wobbly on my head.

If the music was wobbly at all it’s only the charm of a high school band and a songwriter who’s never learned how to read, notate or play music despite her songs selling more than 50 million records.

That’s the innocence of youth. I hope you enjoy our youth as much as me and the kids did. It was a VERY special experience indeed.

08May 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Happy Mother’s Day!

08May 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Happy Mother’s Day!

Mother’s Day has always provided supreme opportunities for kitsch. Be it flower arrangements, stuffed animal displays in front of gas stations for last minute pick-ups, or greeting cards – store bought and handmade equally qualifying –  Mother’s Day is a kitsch karousel that never ceases to go round.

Almost everything I owned growing up was thrown out when my mom passed away suddenly when I was 16 and my father remarried. Aside from a rubber doll I got for my first birthday whose head was tied on with a string and a Ben Casey bobble head with a hole in his heart, the result of me shoving a pencil through it after an unrequited love incident at 12, I had almost nothing to remind me of the sweeter life that preceded all of this. (Which is why it meant so much to me to get back into the house I grew up in a few weeks ago.)

About 20 years ago, after years of thinking these two medically deficient dolls were the only artifacts of Little Allee that remained, my brother shipped me my old steamer trunk that had been hogging a corner of his garage since I graduated college. I had always assumed it was empty but inside was a small cigar box that contained letters, post cards, hamburger recipes, and this Mother’s Day card I had made for my mom when I was God knows how old. I hope it wasn’t too old as my interpretation of the world was slightly naïve.

I have no idea what country Mekoila is right above the S. Pole and I’m happy to see that I thought California was important enough to hog the entire West side of the United States. I have no idea if I actually thought that Michigan, where I drew my happy little self in, was really the east-most state or if I forgot to leave room for it when I drew this map that looks more like a cross-section of a cow with different meat cuts in it. I hope you can see the little thumb I gave Michigan for accuracy right above my left hand. And I’m happy that I took the time to draw myself in my favorite type of pleated dress in grades 2-6:

I’m the tall one. And if memory serves, that’s actually a giant Mother’s Day rose tucked into my belt that I made out of  a toilet paper roll and tissue paper to give to my mom a couple of years after I made this card. My mother’s name was Rose so that flower had a lot of significance in our family.

I definitely misspelled ‘You’re’ but I’m happy to see that I gave the rose much petal definition and that the  leaves look like jubilant uplifted arms. It was a very happy rose and a very happy Rose that celebrated Mother’s Day that year. I did, however, completely cheese out on the poetry I included inside. I have no idea where I copied this from but I’m happy to see that I knew enough as a budding designer to carry over the rose logo.

Thankfully in my later years I progressed to the point where I didn’t need someone else’s words to express how I was feeling.

Never one to leave space empty for long, I ended the card with a picture of a present. Of course, my mom’s only present from me was this card but as a first grade teacher she  always appreciated the effort I put into art.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms out there.  And happy Mother’s Day, Rose, wherever you may be.

04May 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Allee Willis Marches on Detroit! Part 13, Burk’s Igloo & Lafayette Coney Dogs

04May 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Allee Willis Marches on Detroit! Part 13, Burk’s Igloo & Lafayette Coney Dogs

Burk’s Igloo in Hamtramck, the once Polish center of Detroit, not only has KILLER ice cream but is famous now for being in the opening titles of HBO’s Hung.

The menu is excellent:

So is the signage:

Here I am enjoying an excellent Igloo caramel swirl sundae with historic architecture preservationist Rebecca Binno Savage, who took me on a tour of the neighborhood.

I almost got this:

That kind of symmetry is hard to achieve. But the ice cream lady steered me the right way.

I would suggest everyone steer to 10300 Conant St, Hamtramck, 48212 for the ultimate stomach and eyeball experience.

Now onto Lafayette…

If you’re from Detroit or you love hot dogs and have visited Detroit, you undoubtably know of the war going on between who has the best Coneys, the institutional Lafayette Coney Dogs or American Coney Island next door.

I must preface all of this by saying that I’ve never even walked into American because it looks like one of those Johnny Rocket type retro places that recall the 1950’s in entirely the wrong way with a sparkling red, white and black soda fountain decor that has none of the soul of what it was really like in a diner dive back in the day. I know it’s been there even longer than Lafayette but I’ve always walked into 118 and not 114. I suppose American’s been redecorated but that’s blasphemy in and of itself when it comes to authentic junk food places. Lafayette, on the other hand, hasn’t changed an inch. And for that alone, the place deserves my hot dog loyalty.

I’m always going to go for the authentic looking place. It’s got soul that no amount of investment in brand spanking new shiny chrome and wrong shades of vinyl can ever produce. It’s also got lightning fast service performed by at least one waiter who’s not only been there most of his life but who delivers a spectacular array of magic tricks along with the dogs.

I hope you can see that the fork is hanging mysteriously in the air. It’s actually balanced on a toothpick that’s placed into a hole in a pepper shaker that’s stacked on top of a glass, with another fork also swinging on it.

This defies the laws of physics. So does this:

The challenge was to hang twelve nails off of the long screw poking out of the wood base.  I don’t care how long I stare at that photo or the fact that I saw Ali Faisel, the waiter, do it in front of my face.  I still can’t figure it out.

There’s one more trick on the table, right next to the toothpick fork structure.  Ten toothpicks, just laid out on the table, that come together as a star with the help of a little water:

Notice the vintage formica tabletop.  That’s what I love about Lafayette, that everything is seasoned with 70 years of chili, dogs and fries with no thought of changing anything that works. It’s because the dogs have that perfect snap,…

…the chili recipe doesn’t change,…


…and the waiters multitask.

That’s why I’ve always stuck with Lafayette.  But I understand it’s not fair to proclaim Lafayette the winner without ever having downed an American dog. So the next time I go to Detroit I’m going to wear sunglasses so the sparkly sheen of the new chrome doesn’t offend my eyes and sneak into American for a chomp down. God forbid anyone from Lafayette sees me I’ll never be able to show my face in there again. And, God knows, I’d never want that to happen.

 

03May 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Allee Willis Marches on Detroit! Part 12, My Speech

03May 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Allee Willis Marches on Detroit! Part 12, My Speech

On April 7 I was the closing keynote speaker at the Rust Belt To Arts Belt III conference in Detroit. Every year the conference takes place in a different city that’s faced with the task of reinventing itself in the ongoing transition from the Industrial Age into the Digital Age and beyond. Loving Detroit and having been in the heat of designing communities since the dawn of the commercial Internet in 1991, I wax on about all this in my speech.

I didn’t do any kind of visual presentation so showing a video of me moving my mouth for a half an hour isn’t going to cut the cake. It would be far more interesting to watch me moving my mouth cutting another foodstuff:

But seeing as I have no hot dog footage, here’s a link to the speech.  I’m very proud of it.  And mean every word I say.

 

28Apr 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Allee Willis Marches on Detroit! Part 10 , The Restaurants

28Apr 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Allee Willis Marches on Detroit! Part 10 , The Restaurants

An important part of any urban experience is where and what you choose to eat. Anyone who knows me knows that no money needs to be wasted on the fanciest or trendiest restaurants in town. I wanted to hit the institutions in Detroit that not only involved the excitement I had as a child driving to them but that have proven to be quality enough (or, preferably, kitschy enough) to live on, restaurants whose very presence defines the personality of the city. Most of my all-time favorites have long since succombed, like Dinah Inn, Jerry’s, both great steakhouses off Woodward, and my all-time favorite deli, Darby’s. Even Carl’s Chop House closed a few years ago.

Thankfully, the Italian restaurant my family went to every Sunday night, Mario’s, is still there.

But although I recognized it from the outside, it’s gotten too gussied up on the inside to be of value to my hungering memory cells now. But old time tradition is still alive in some excellent vintage haunts I’d never been to before. First there’s Mr. Mike’s.

Now selling itself as a karaoke sports bar, Mr. Mike’s is old school dining experience enhanced by dimly lit fake Tiffany lamps, burgundy leatherette booths and stained glass windows.

I could do without the lattice work and Americana dowels but I do like that the banquettes remain intact.

I’m also not a big one for stripping away the plaster to expose the brick underneath in efforts to make a place look old. This place looks old enough without this 80’s postmodern touch.

The waiter didn’t have much patience for me flipping back and forth between a turkey club, onion soup au gratin, Chef’s Salad, and meatloaf, all steakhouse classics for me.

I finally settled on the meatloaf and loaded baked potato. Notice the fringe on the “Tiffany” lamp tilted for optimum lighting of my meatloaf.

The potato especially deserves a closeup:

Though we were all jealous of the liver and onions someone else at the table ordered:

As old school and perfect as the food was, as one of the “grown and sexy people” I’m really sorry to have missed DJ Poppi Smooth:

Another favorite restaurant this trip was Vince’s, an Italian joint in Southwest Detroit. Though I almost didn’t get past the entrance because of the blinding brilliance of this display:

Is the fluffy cotton/Christmas snow backdrop supposed to be steam rising from the pasta?

I don’t know, but the supreme naïveté and kitschiness of the encased pasta art was enough for me to proclaim Vince’s a must-eat-at Italian pit stop in the Motor City. And I’m happy to report that the beauty on the walls continued throughout the restaurant:

As impressed as I am with this Golden Colander award, I’m sure the owners are more excited by this:

I know it’s blurry but you can see it’s a hand-signed personal note from Frank. And you know that means business when it comes to an Italian restaurant. This one isn’t bad either:

Also not bad is the decor:

I was too hungry to remember to snap shots of any of the food but I did get this one of us eating. Well, I’m texting, but eating every other text.

Another stop on the vintage-and-still-standing restaurant run was Sign Of the Beefcarver on Woodward past 10 Mile.

I really wanted to go to this place down the block but it was closed:

But I was excited to hit the Beefcarver as I knew it was a cafeteria.

The food line did not disappoint. As I’ve come to expect in great cafeterias, there’s always a complete selection of salad items.

I had tossed salad with Thousand Island dressing, roast beef, mashed potatoes and corn, my signature meal when I’m in a cafeteria. I forgot to photograph the food here too as I was too busy looking at the walls.

Then, of course, there’s The Telway, with four burgers for $2.25.

And Lafayette Coney Dogs.

I wish I could’ve hit more joints when I was in Detroit but I was too busy preparing for this:

And this:

But my utensils remain sharpened. I’m all ears if anyone else can suggest more vintage eateries for my next trip home which, I’m happy to report, is imminent!

 

27Apr 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Allee Willis Marches on Detroit! Part 9, The City By Car

27Apr 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Allee Willis Marches on Detroit! Part 9, The City By Car

Wednesday, April 6, had tremendous potential. (L-R) Mark Blackwell and Laura Grover, both of whom worked on putting the whole Detroit extravaganza together with me, and I were being driven around the city by Michael Poris, one of the architects leading the charge to rebuild Detroit. The Majestic Theater is one of his projects.

Here’s a detail of The Majestic’s majesty:

Unfortunately, the skies weeped steadily throughout the day, making decent photos next to impossible unless one was out to amplify the decay of the city, in which case the incessant downpour added just enough teardrops to slam that sentiment home. Most of my shots look like this:

Which is a shame, as to miss the details of a combo Church and car wash is a waste of excellent kitsch:

Just about the only clear shots I got was when I got out of the car,…

…or some of my car-mates did,…

…or when the rain wasn’t spitting into the car, with the window rolled down. Thankfully it stopped for a few minutes when I snapped these murals at the Eastern Market:

Sometimes the gloominess of the skies enhanced the experience of what we were looking at.

Perfect for a place that’s a Home For Funerals as opposed to merely a Funeral Home. Then again, it’s right next door to the happiest place on earth, Motown.

Growing up, I spent many a Saturday afternoon planted on this front lawn, trying to catch a bass note or background vocal seeping through the walls.

I make a pilgrimage to the front lawn every time I go home. In the early 1980s I even got into the actual recording studio when The Detroit Free Press did a story on me growing up in Detroit and how, as a songwriter, I was influenced by Motown.

But, alas, fate was not as kind this time. Had I stashed the three video cameras and four still cams away I could have marched through the studio again. But I had no interest, especially on this trip, in having any significant moment of my life pass by without being digitally preserved. So the closest I got was the hallway as no filming was allowed.

The woman at the desk was really nice. She knew who I was as soon as I walked in as she had seen me on the news the morning before. But rules are rules. Even though I’ve collaborated with some of Motown’s greatest songwriters, like Lamont Dozier…

… and Ashford & Simpson, seen here with me and Maurice White, founder and lead singer of Earth Wind & Fire, and LaChanze, the Tony-winning actress who played Celie in the musical I co-wrote, The Color Purple.

So we piled back in the car and were off to enjoy more of Detroit.

I would have enjoyed it more if the BBQ joint in front of that mural were still open:

Michael had been over to my place in LA about nine months earlier so I wasn’t worried about him showing us the usual tour suspects – The Detroit Institute Of Art, The Detroit Historical Society, The Spirit of Detroit, etc. All completely beautiful and historic but I wanted to see the spirit of the city as evidenced through how people express themselves via their homes, lawns and businesses. I’ve long believed that one’s immediate environment is a canvas for self expression. And places like this would be off the beaten track of any normal tour guide:

Talk about expressing yourself via your home…:

This is The Heidleberg Project, named for the street that artist Tyree Guyton took over 25 years ago and decorated houses, lawns and empty lots on two blocks of.  SPECTACULARLY INSPIRING:

 

One of the great promises of Detroit is that artists can live cheaply and express themselves in novel ways not possible in other cities. Like Ice House Detroit, a 2010 project where two photographers took over an abandoned house, hosed it down til it was an ice cave and then photographed it melting, symbolizing the building up and subsequent melting away of the once great Detroit.

Detroit is full of such self expression:

Artists see the future first – their way is to dream and paint that picture for everyone else. Reinvention and constantly shifting one’s perspective to stay inspired is as vital for places as it is for people. There’s a great effort in Detroit to redesign the city the artists’ way. In fact, one of my reasons for being there this particular week was to be the closing keynote speaker on that very subject at the Rust Belt To Arts Belt conference happening the next day.

But back to the streets… Rain-soaked as this photo is, I hope you can see the use of industrial materials on the facade of this otherwise traditional brick building. Up close it looks like a bunch of sawed-in-half hot water heaters. I love stuff like this.


There are so many beautiful abandoned buildings, waiting for artists to see their beauty and reinvent their once greatness.

And it’s not like artists can’t afford to live in Detroit.

Thankfully, someone bought the old Michigan Central train station. From what I understand, there are plans to renovate.

Forgotten by time, vandalized by squatters and ravers, its internal beauty still shines through.

It was getting late so we headed back as I had to go over my speech about the rejuvenation of Detroit I was giving the next day. I was pretty sure I had it down but wanted to make sure there were no crucial mistakes or  misspellings to trip me up. Sometimes even the most straight-ahead missives go awry. Like at this McDonalds, just a couple blocks from Vince’s, where we had dinner and which I’ll blog about tomorrow. I know they mean a 20 piece chicken McNugget dinner for $4.99 but if I’m to believe the sign it’s 20 P’s of cchcken uggets for four hundred ninety nine dollars.

Which makes it just slightly cheaper than some of the houses in Detroit. Calling all artists!!

26Apr 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Allee Willis Marches on Detroit! Part 8, Sights In Passing

26Apr 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Allee Willis Marches on Detroit! Part 8, Sights In Passing

One of my favorite things in life is photographing whatever I see around me, especially if I’m in a car and just happen to pass something that tickles my kitsch bone or general love of vintage or personality laden locations. Here are some of my favorites sightings that hit my eyeballs while attempting to find wherever I was going my first two days in Detroit.

Although I never made it in here I hear about this place, in existence for close to 120 years, from everyone:

I love the salute to the Oscars down in the corner of this mural on Wyoming and Seven Mile, with the Diana Ross lookalike eyeballing it:

Long since closed but gorgeous on Michigan Ave.:

It’s always an excellent sign of kitsch when the great architectural details stop as soon as you round the corner.

The real deal theater in town, the most gorgeously restored theatre I’ve ever been in, where my musical, The Color Purple, would be playing and my big Mumford extravaganza was taking place over the coming weekend:

The biggest drive-in movie screen in the country is the Ford Wyoming Drive-In:

The signage is a little anemic, but at least the Ford-Wyoming is still-standing:

If this were original 1930’s it would be great, but I suspect it’s just a cheesy 80’s repro “Deco”-like exterior on Broadway. I’d like to be wrong about that though.

I love the juxtaposition of homemade candy (and an excellent handpainted mural) and The Haunted Bus Ride:

Thankfully still-standing excellent Streamline Moderne architecture on Woodward:

You can tell this place is gonna be nuts from blocks away:

Extreme Dodge dealership (though I saw no signs of cars):

For a different mode of transportation, the old train station in Corktown:

A closer look at the majestic structure, down but definitely not forgotten:

In another part of town, mural excellence:

A closer look at the amphibious human:

Though that mural is nowhere near as excellent as this one, off of Woodward, west of Ten Mile.:

Four (great) burgers for $2.25 on Michigan Ave.:

How can you not be intrigued by a place with a name as flat and unassuming as “Nice Price”, also on Michigan Avenue?

Or this one on Michigan, so kitschiliciously basic::

A nice topless freeway entrance:

A sausage that screams “Detroit”!

A diner that screams Detroit, the Ellwood, built in 1936:

The Ellwood was moved to its present location downtown when the new Comerica ballpark was built.

I love this exterior in Hamtramck:

And just down the street:

Grab your snow cones and head down a few blocks further to Hamtramck Disneyland:

This building doesn’t look like much…

…but it’s all happening on the roof:

Evidently, Warholak is a great place to find vintage tires, which I’m always in need of as I comb the globe for original whitewalls for my baby:

And speaking of tires, here’s the famous one on I-94, once a ferris wheel at a New York World’s Fair.

And Joe Louis’ fist downtown:

I love you, Detroit! And I’m just two days in…

25Apr 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Allee Willis Marches on Detroit! Part 7, Fox News and Marching Band Rehearsal

25Apr 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Allee Willis Marches on Detroit! Part 7, Fox News and Marching Band Rehearsal

Tues., April 5, started at 7 am. (Kill me now; that’s the middle of the night for me.) Thank God there was a Yum Yum (my dictation software just typed that as Young Dumb) Donuts open in Southfield, the suburb of Detroit where Fox News is located. So I hit Young Dumb for a quick sugar infusion and rolled up the street to Fox in time to be on the morning news. Thank God the Green Room, one of the few actually painted green I’ve been in, had a nice, squishy couch. The donuts hadn’t quite kicked in yet.

The lighting in the studio definitely woke me up…

…though unfortunately, not quite enough.

The anchor interviewing me, Anqunette Jamison, was really nice and definitely had done her research. Nothing worse than waking up two hours after you’ve gone to bed to be interviewed by someone who wished that Reese Witherspoon was sitting across from them.

Driving back we passed this sign on a building, which emulated the discombobulated feeling I still had from being up before the crack of dawn and having to sound coherent.

We also passed vintage gems like this. I love that the pigeons have checked in.

I love any and all Deco/Streamline Moderne architecture.

Other than that second story looks like an add-on. Way too boxy and wrong kind of windows.  But excellent color scheme and at least the occupants had the good sense not to knock it down.

This wall killlllled me:

I took photos next to everyone and then it was on to Mumford, my high school and the main reason I was in Detroit that week, to conduct the marching band playing a medley of seven of my greatest hits with the cast of my musical, The Color Purple, that was playing at The Fox, the theater I grew up in.

My best friend from high school, Sherry (Erman) Stewart, went with me. Which was completely appropriate as it was Sherry I wrote my first song for at 15. She was running for class secretary and I wrote her campaign theme – “Oh vote for Sher-ry/fur (erman is a mink-like animal) sec-re-tar-ry”, kind of to the tune of “This Land Is Your Land” but not really. (Even in those days I thought about copyright infringement.) Here we are standing over the plug that was our mark to position ourselves over on stage for that most auspicious musical debut.

I hope someone saves me that plug when the wrecking ball hits the school next year (don’t get me started on wrecking balls hitting gorgeous Deco buildings…). I art-directed Sherry’s campaign as well.

It’s shocking looking at that from five decades ago how little my style has changed…. Sherry, btw, won the election!

Next it was watching the marching band, pom pom girls and twirlers rehearse for our big extravaganza coming up at The Fox on Saturday.

I was shocked (and awed) at how together they were.

Then John Wilkins, Mumford’s band conductor and arranger for over 20 years, asked me to come up and conduct the band.

First I warned the kids that despite selling over 50,000,000 records I still had no idea how to read, notate or play music.

Then we swung into action playing “September”, “Boogie Wonderland”, “Neutron Dance”, “Stir It Up”, “In the Stone”, “I’ll Be There for You (theme from Friends)”, and “The Color Purple”, the songs we’d be preforming.

Here I am with the Pom Pom Girls and Twirlers. This was, of course, what I always wanted to be when I was in high school. But this photo is as close as I ever got:

I know you’re going to ask me what “GRAMMI” is. I don’t know. Perhaps a misspelling of Grammy, which I misspelled constantly myself – Grammie – after receiving one for Best Soundtrack for Beverly Hills Cop, the film that I not only had songs in but that immortalized my high school after Eddie Murphy wore a Mumford Phys Ed shirt throughout the movie, linking Mumford and I forever.

As we drove back to the hotel I finished the Young Dumb donut from this morning, though I was tempted to stop here, which I hear are the best donuts in Detroit: