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!!


09Jan 2012

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – All Aboard THE WIENERMOBILE!!! – Part 2

09Jan 2012

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – All Aboard THE WIENERMOBILE!!! – Part 2

If you’re just jumping aboard The Wienermobile, please exit through the rear and check out Part 1 of my adventure with Susan Olsen,a.k.a. Cindy Brady, and Charles Phoenix, without which Part 2 lacks context. Wagging the tail without the (hot) dog as it were.

Now, assuming you’ve fully digested part 1, join us aboard the Wienermobile as we head east from the Brady Bunch house…

…to another iconic wiener in  the neighborhood, Larry’s.

The Wienermobile ate up quite a lot of real estate in this four- table parking lot eatery.

So we turned the vehicular wiener towards another vintage hot dog-related gem a few blocks away:

Isn’t this where you would go if you were a hot dog?

We knew Chili John’s has very early hours but we jumped out anyway, praying the chili palace still might be open:

If you haven’t been to this place, spit out your food and head there now. It’s as authentic as the day it was born in 1941:

The counter is (perfectly and beautifully) makes up the entire restaurant.

You can see the handpainted mural that runs the length of the restaurant better in this shot with Charles:

Up close it’s apparent that the artist, Mr. Chili John himself, captured each and every crevice of the exploding Vesuvius terrain as possible. Perhaps this was to illustrate the constant lava-like flow of chili that runs through his namesake establishment daily.

While we were there, there was an incredible photo opp for The Wienermobile:

With hot dogs and chili under our belts, it was time to move on to burgers. Very few food symbols are as iconic as The Wienermobile, but surely the Big Boy at Bob’s a few blocks away on Riverside has an equal place on the mountaintop.

The sheer magnitude of these two sculptural icons together was overwhelming for kitsch lovers such as ourselves.

So we took lots of photos:

But, alas, the sun was starting to set and there was one place we knew we had to hit while The Wienermobile was still under our control:

The Circus Liquor neon clown, on Burbank Blvd. just west of Chili John’s, has been in countless movies and tv shows, not to mention I’ve dropped coin in there every time I need a bottle of anything, just so I can visit the clown.

The height of the Wienermobile was an INSANELY perfect fit. If only the clown were permanently mounted on top of it.

With the evening approaching fast we headed back to Willis Wonderland,…

…already upset that our Wienermobile afternoon would soon be but a memory, albeit one grilled into our braincells forever.

When we dislodged from The Wienermobile we got some parting gifts:

Some Wienermobile whistles, some of which were glow-in-the-dark, a plush toy Wienermobile, as well as this larger plastic one:

It was like we had all been dropped out of a time capsule. I’m someone who likes to have a good time but once I’m done with an activity I gotta clear the house and get back to work. But it was as if we all knew that when we separated we would somehow have to settle back into reality, hopefully just little bitty pieces at a time, that’s how strong the magnetic pull of the Wienermobile was for all of us. So was only natural we sat down to a hot dog dinner to extend the wiener coma we were all in.

The dogs were cooked, as I said in part 1, on my newly acquired 1958 golf ball barbecue:

It was comforting to have such statuary in the yard, softening the blow of the departed Wienermobile as it disappeared into the night.

Thank you, Hot Doggers Traci and Yoli. You drove the Wienermobile like it was a delicate little Smart Car and put up with three drooling adults for longer than anyone deserves to be in ecstasy.

And thank you, Mark Blackwell, for documenting the trip, and I mean Trip.

Susan, Charles and myself are forever grateful to have such a childhood and adult dream fulfilled, especially one that provided such insanely magnificent photo opps.

And we are grateful for the joy of celebrating a junk food that was a building block of nutrition throughout most of our lifetimes. Truth be told, although it has killed me, the foolishness of subsisting exclusively on such foodstuffs is starting to be rectified in my old age. But even Martha Stewart enjoys munching on a good wiener every now and then.

The Wienermobile experience was pretty heavy.

But alas, all things must end.

We love you, Wienermobile. Until we meet again…

20Dec 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – All Aboard THE WIENERMOBILE!!! – Part 1

20Dec 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – All Aboard THE WIENERMOBILE!!! – Part 1

I’ve only waited a lifetime for a ride in the famed Oscar Mayer Wienermobile and last Wednesday, December 14, my dream came true!! Susan Olsen, a.k.a. Cindy Brady, the youngest of the B. Bunch, Charles Phoenix, Mark Blackwell and I hopped aboard and rode the wiener to some of our favorite kitsch spots in the San Fernando Valley. When one is onboard such a vehicle, photo opps are not to be missed!

It’s hard to look bad in a photo with The Wienermobile. So there’s going to be A LOT of them in this post, probably enough to serialize the adventure so check back later in the week or beginning of next for more. With that in mind I’ll start slowly, like how we all color-coordinated to look as fabulous against the backdrop of the transportational hot dog as possible. I threw my outfit together last minute but was happy with my choices, picking up all the essential colors of hot dogs, mustard, relish and mayo.

Here’s a closer look at my vintage Legionnaires shirt, made from that kind of expensive 1950’s satin that feels like you’re going down a cashmere slide:

I know there’s no Oscar Mayer at KFC but it was the closest thematically of any shoulder bag I had.  My T-shirt was much more on the nose…

… as were my shoes:

The first thing I did once I was dressed was to roast some wienies.  It gave me a perfect excuse to test out my recently acquired 1958 golfball barbecue:

I cooked up sixteen dogs so we could stuff ourselves throughout the day. Here’s the first  one, literally, on the grill:

First to arrive at Willis Wonderland for our big wiener ride was Mark, who documented us throughout the wiener day:

Next was Susan, appropriately dressed in wiener red:

And then Charles arrived, dressed in a dead-ringer Wienermobile matching suit and carrying a banner bearing our favorite brand’s namesake.

This also doubled as a fashionable cape.

It’s obvious we all passed the color test:

We took many such proof-of-concept photos:

There are so many obvious ways one wants to pose against such a stunning background:

When the Wienermobile first pulled up I wept with joy. I had forever envisioned it in my driveway.  Alas, the wiener was too plump to actually fit so it rested nicely in front until we boarded.

Before stepping into the vehicular hot dog we ran inside for a quick wiener ingestion:

They don’t actually serve food in the Wienermobile so we brought the leftovers with us. But we were so excited to finally board the hot dog we had all been dreaming about since we were born that we forgot and left them on top of my car:

Our Hotdoggers, college interns who serve a full year driving the wiener wondermobile, were Yoli Bologna and Tailgatin’ Traci:

You could literally hear an audible gasp from each of us as we entered the Wienermobile for the first time.

It’s got six seats, a mustard floor,…

… an appropriate floor mat…

… and a sky roof.

The seats were LITERALLY the most comfy car seat any of us had ever sat in. Plush yet solid, with armrests that made you feel like you were waiting in a highchair for a jar of hot dog baby food. We didn’t stop yapping about them the entire afternoon.

We especially loved the embroidered Wienermobile on the back of each seat.

None of us could figure out if the hot dogs on the dash had any purpose other than an as an exceptional decorative touch.

We thought we only had a half hour in the Wienermobile so we headed to Ventura Blvd., the street where we thought there’d be the most foot traffic so we could wave to the masses like beauty queens on a float. Charles mentioned that the real Brady Bunch house, the one used for the exterior shot that pops up in every episode, was probably only blocks away. Not only did I have no idea it was in the hood but Susan – an actual Brady – said she had never even seen it herself! How could this be??!  Cindy-I-mean-Susan explained that as a wee star she couldn’t compute that a house that was clearly two stories…

…was in reality only one.

So the Wienermobile, a deceptibly agile vehicle, whipped a U-ie and headed east toward Dillon St. As the top of the A-frame house poked into sight we started going nuts.

And we SO weren’t the only ones. There were already some sightseers there, dying that not only were they at the Brady house but now the Wienermobile had entered the picture AND a real Brady emerged out of it!  Only God could have put a blessed tourist here at this moment.

Needless to say, we took a lot of photos.

With Susan’s 35 year identity crisis rectified, our Hotdoggers, Yoli and Tracy, told us we could drive around for as long as we wanted.

Elated, we immediately discussed iconic snack food related establishments in the immediate area to best frame us and the Wienermobile. First we headed to a hot dog,:

followed by some chili,…

… a hamburger,…

…and a little something to wash it all down with.

But, alas… I have Christmas shopping to do, three song deadlines to hit, an outline overdue for my new live show, a contract to read, a cat scratcher turntable to assemble, a portrait commission to paint, a bunch of publishing crap to get together, not to mention that I’m supposed to be on vacation in sunny Monterey. So Part 2 of our Wienermobile adventures will appear in a few days.

Until then, eat lots of hot dogs as you kick off the holiday season!

Proceed to Part 2

01Dec 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Pussy Portrait

01Dec 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Pussy Portrait

I’ve had this thing so long I don’t even remember where I got it from. A petite 6″ x 9″ x 3.5″, d hard plastic goldleaf textured frame surrounds the fluffiest kitty on the planet. I especially love her little forlorn mouth and seafoam blue eyes.

The sad little floral bouquet burrowed in her fur also kills me.

The pussy’s frame almost looks like it’s made out of plaster,…

… but it’s this puffed up thin plastic that cracks like dry twigs in a forest if you even stare too hard at it.

Such a happy pussy!

 

15Nov 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Disco Dancer

15Nov 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Disco Dancer

Just about as cheesy as you can get, Disco Dancer is a symphony of tragic mistakes. From his hairdo…

…to his little Disco outfit with the lopsided shoulders…

…to the threads hanging out and plastic body parts that don’t quite fit together…

… to his clothes that weren’t even finished before they stuffed him in the box…

… to the fact that he has no pants. Disco Dance is sheer Kitsch perfection.

I love his flat little hands.

Despite the fact that he’s obviously meant to move…

…and there’s a button to push to get him to do so…

… Disco Dancer was dead on arrival, brand new out of the box. Poor little Disco Dancer.  Dispite the fact that you have your best shoes on…

…it’s time to leave the Disco and head home…

…to Japan.

22Aug 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Twinkie The Kid Twinkie Case

22Aug 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Twinkie The Kid Twinkie Case

If you know anything about Twinkies you know they are virtually indestructible, baked to last…and last…and last some more. Short of throwing a twinkie into a kiln, it takes an eternity for the thing to dry out, even if it’s long escaped its plastic packaging. But self sufficient or not, Twinkie The Kid is the perfect road companion for your creme filled bundle of spongy and ageless sugar fun.

I’m not at all sure how a cowboy fits the baked goods picture, but the cowboy hat is very easy to flip up and insert the sugary log into.

Although of no practical use whatsoever other than getting caught in things and breaking off easily, I really like The Kid’s little Pillsbury dough boy hands.

His boots are cute too, though getting Twinkie Boy to stand up on his own, especially if he’s fully loaded, is not an easy feat.

Cases for food like this always intrigue me. I understand a case for something perishable like fruits and vegetables, like say for a banana.

But something as stupid looking as The Twinkie Kid could easily trick a kid into thinking the foodstuff within is fresh and therefore good for them, if not as much fun as the casing. But anyone who’s going to jam a Twinkie down their gullet doesn’t need the inducement of glimmering plastic with stupid looking body parts, even if it’s lying there lifeless with the same balancing proclivites as the Twinkie itself.

This Twinkie The Kid showed up at my last party.

Many guests were jealous of him:

The only question I have is if you love Twinkies it’s hard to stop at just one, so I wonder if there’s a Twinkie cowgirl lurking around somewhere? The Kid is on the prowl and so am I.

 

Thank you, aKitschionado Douglas Wood, for your generous contribution of one Twinkie The Kid to the Allee Willis Museum Of Kitsch @ AWMOK.com.

 

16Aug 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Kleenex Man Size Tissues Pillow

16Aug 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Kleenex Man Size Tissues Pillow

Are men’s noses really snottier than women’s? Do they run more? Does a woman with a bad cold honestly deserve a smaller size tissue than a man with the same malady? According to this decades old commercial, I guess so:

Male or female, big nose or small, I was pretty happy to find this macho-sized pillow for five bucks at the Pasadena City College flea market last week.

The pillow’s a beefy 23″ x 12″ x 2.75″, proportioned exactly like the box of tissues itself.

Kleenex Man Size is a great period piece of Pop Art.

The choice of manly transportation modes on the box and pillow replica are slightly curious though in that they consist of three trains and one plane. What, no Maserati, Ferrari or monster truck?

And isn’t this plane upside down?:

I guess it looks the same no matter which way you flip it and we must rely on the man in control to land it right. Although in 1973, when many men were blowing their noses into Kleenex Man Size, Bobby Riggs was toppled by Billie Jean King in the tennis “Battle Of the Sexes” and sent the Women’s Lib movement soaring into the stratosphere much like the plane on Kleenex Man Size.

Which made many men weep.  And grab for their box of Kleenex Man Size. Just like I’m grabbing for the Man Size right now.

 

 

07Jun 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Mini-Mod Disco Doll Accessories

07Jun 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Mini-Mod Disco Doll Accessories

I love these kind of toy kits that are slapped together to take advantage of some current trend because the contents are usually cheaply made and wrong. This card of Disco accessories is no exception. For example, the model with the sky-bound hair looks way more trashy 80’s than stone cold funky mid-to-late 70’s, which is what anyone gracing anything that has the word ‘Disco’ on it should look like. Although I suppose her hair transcends any decade:

The scarf is a nice touch, though placement on anything other than the neck doesn’t seem optimum for Disco dancing.

And shouldn’t the model be wearing platform Disco shoes and not heels she might have worn to a tea at the Holiday Inn?! They could’ve at least found a stock shot of someone wearing appropriate footwear. Even the enclosed Go-go boots, tre passé in the the Disco era, are wrong.

And look at the different belt lengths. Is this in case of the doll’s weight gain or loss?

I guess I can understand that sizing approach in belts but not in shoes. You either have one size feet or the other.

A lovely but somewhat limited selection of jewelry is also provided:

But what on earth is this? A beach ball cover? A beach-themed yarmulke? An example of sloppy stitching?

I love that all the record titles have the word ‘Disco’ in them, lest we forget that these are DISCO doll accessories.

At least they got the Disco font right. Then again, the “D” is suspiciously like the ‘O’ so maybe not…

I was much better dressed when I co-wrote this (thankfully) Disco classic:

02May 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – USA! Patriotic Kitsch

02May 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – USA! Patriotic Kitsch

Rarely do I celebrate someone getting their head blow on off but the jubilant mood around the world heralding the demise of the long skinny one with the poisonous manners is begging to be celebrated with the best patriotic crafts that kitsch has to offer. Here’s a small sampling of what’s available for sale as we speak on places like Ebay and Etsy. In most cases I’ve used the exact names the artists have given their work.

The Liberty Bell:

Red-White-and-Blue-Patriotic-Furry-Flip-Flops-Spa-Sandals-Size-5-6:

Flip Flop Sandal BEADS with Tiny Feet Handmade from Polymer Clay:

Patriotic Flip Flop Magnet:

Patriotic Pins and Beads Queen:

1966 patriotic Barbie patterns:

Overstimulated Patriotic Picture Frame:

Flag Saftey Beautiful Pin:

Drink-Holder—Red,White and-Blue:

Patriotic Dryer Lint Art:

Patriotic-Stars-Felt-Candle-Wrap-Cozy-Handmade:

UNCLE SAM HEAD & HANDS CERAMIC BISQUE:

Uncle Sam Mickey Latch Hook Kit:

American eagle bottle cap ecklace featuring unique night-glo:

Liberty Bell Pot Holder:

HAND-CROCHET-PATRIOTIC-CLOTHES-FOR-2.5-INCH-AND-3-INCH-DAM-TROLL-DOLLS-#1:

HAND-CROCHET-PATRIOTIC-CLOTHES-FOR-2.5-INCH-AND-3-INCH-DAM-TROLL-DOLLS-#2:

Independence Day decoration:

Patriotic American Red White Blue Pom-Pom Scarf for Indepence Day Memorial Day Photography Prop Adult or Infant:

Patriotic Horses:

Patriotic Clown:

Vintage-American-Flag-Bunting-covered-lamp-shade-red-white-blue:

Ceramic Bisque Uncle Sam Bloomer Bear, Flag included:

Go America!! Go Kitsch!

18Apr 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Income Tax Day and a Mr T. Bank

18Apr 2011

Allee Willis’ Kitsch O’ The Day – Income Tax Day and a Mr T. Bank

I pity the fool who doesn’t dig all the way down into his/her pockets on this, the most dreaded of days, Income Tax Day, and cough up what little is left in the coffers. Don’t get me started on this topic, how none of the greedy, disgusting suits have been prosecuted for turning the world upside down, leaving the rest of us to walk around with this same bewildered Mr. T look on our faces as the calendar strikes 4/15, or as it is this year, 17.

Somehow, this almost foot-high hollow-headed Mr. T bank doesn’t have the same determined look that Mr. T usually has in his press shots or the plethora of merchandise that sprung out of his B. A. Baracus run on the A-Team.

I’m not sure I’d like to smell like Mr. T.

Mr. T probably had nothing to grimace about on Income Tax Day back in the 80’s when The A-Team was running strong and he could afford enough gold chains so that if there’s any problem these days all he has to do is sell some of them.

Instead of rippled flesh, this Mr. T bank is made of super hard plastic. As a consequence, the coins reverberate so when they drop into Mr. T’s cavernous head it makes me think this is a better percussion instrument than bank. Which is probably best given how cheaply this lump o’ Mr. T is made. You literally have to cut a hole in the bottom to get the coins out. Which means, of course, you can never use it as a bank again as there’s no way to re-insert the plastic which is surely jagged, sharp and misshapen after using an ice pick or whatever else it might take to puncture the exceedingly hard Mr. T.

Made by Ruby-Spears Enterprises in 1983, this is a relatively rare piece of Mr. T. memorabilia, with jewelry and other assorted bling, T-shirts, games, coloring books and A-Team vans far more locatable than this carefully coiffed bank. I don’t think I ever realized the Mr. T’s hairdo was an upside down T.

Income Tax Day causes a lot of people to experience angst, panic and other unpleasant human feelings. In many people this causes hair loss.

I’m not losing my hair but I do I wish I had a slot in my head today.

I’m so pathetically behind on everything following my Detroit trip – blogs to write, a documentary to make, getting all the Mumford marching band footage together for YouTube, not to mention my day job, songwriting. If someone could just turn me over and shake me, maybe all the extraneous thoughts would fall out and I’d just be left with the business at hand, mailing in my tax forms.