Nothing like using a clown to sell inebriates to get a kid revved up for adulthood. This 26 foot high sign has been a landmark in North Hollywood, CA., featured in enough movies to get a horse drunk. I’m happy whenever I drive by it but still think mixing an icon of childhood with liquor probably happened because the store owner was drunk when he thought of it.
There’s a block of Lankershim in North Hollywood, CA that’s littered – I use that word lovingly – with square brick buildings adorned with Greek and Roman plaster columns, gods and godesses split in half and glued against the buildings in attempts to make them look like ancient Greek and Roman temples. I love this kind of architecture, especially when most of the time they’re trying to make strip joints look classy and exotic. That’s the case here.
It’s next to another edifice of similar antiquity:
I love North Hollywood!
When I was a kid I was SO into Leave It To Beaver, probably as much because of the glow from the Sylvania Halo Vision tv I was watching it on and the Velveeta sandwich on white with one thin leaf of Iceberg draped across it that was the ritual meal of my childhood. I’m sure I’ve seen every single show of the original series that ran from 1957-’63. I was also into Lassie, My Three Sons, Dennis The Menace and other series that showed life from a kid’s point of view but I always liked Beaver because he was so inquisitive and annoying.
As an adult, once I moved to California I was elated to find a very kitschy restaurant in the middle of a golf course at the end of the runway of the Van Nuys airport owned by Beaver star, Barbara Billingsley, and named, appropriately enough, Billingsley’s. It was a steakhouse built in 1969 that served blue Jell-O for desset and remained pretty much intact until it finally and sadly closed a few years ago.
I went to Billingsley’s constantly on Sunday nights because of the great Graydon Wayne, ex- Three Suns member who faithfully sang and played three organs at the same time holding court around a classic piano bar. But as much as I loved listening to songs I otherwise never would’ve listened to while munching Surf ‘n Turf and sipping drinks out of a seashell I never lost sight of what excited me most – the fact that The Beav’s mom owned the joint.
P.S. I didn’t do any of this coloring. I was the type who always liked my colors very bold so there wouldn’t have been any of this frail, lighter-than-a-feather technique in any crayon execution of mine:
I’m very attached to my home state of Michigan and collect anything from the 1940s to 1970s that honors it. I particularly love when architecture is involved as in those decades Michigan exemplified the Atomic Age with its number one industry, automobiles, and much of the architecture in the state was inspired by the cash cow’s huge tail fins and modern color palettes.
The Harris Motor Inn in Kalamazoo couldn’t quite decide if it was traditional (lots of brick) or modern, though the excellent slate, floor to ceiling glass windows and suspended light fixtures suggest the latter influence was greater.
I love when anything proclaims itself “the best”. In the case of the Harris it’s “Michigan’s Best for Food and Rest”. If this place is still standing I just might make it there one day to sample the food by Zeman, who was heavy enough to get his/their initial in a larger font size than the Harris itself.
Rising like several healthy squirts of whipped cream on an otherwise dull sundae, the Sanctuary spa/resort/fantasy masterpiece of plaster workmanship on Palm Dr. in Desert Hot Springs, California almost caused me to have a car wreck when I first drove past it. Absolutely incongruous with anything else in the area, it still gets my vote as hot spot in town.
Despite the fact that the plaster is slathered on so thick that the mashed potato/sour cream/whipped cream exterior already shows cracks, I’ve long known that this ‘heaped on’ technique is an excellent way to cover up otherwise dowdy exteriors. Cottage cheese or fan brushed plaster or concrete do not count here. That’s merely for people who have no taste. The cascading and mounding effect seen here at The Sanctuary is, rather, a fully realized artistic vision that scales to the peak of Mt. Kitschrest and never comes down for a landing.
I found these comments online: “… staff , restaurant, rooms and pool area is perfect” … “Rollaway bed mattress ($10 extra charge) was so old and uncomfortable” … “Everywhere we went the staff took time to wish us a good day” … “What a dirty, stinkin, filthy dive!” … “Best $70.00 ever spent…”… “on the first day we have no shampoo and when we ask the answer was “we are not received yet from supplier ” ( who cares-i pay for room ).”
