I’m pretty religious about celebrating one’s birthday all day from the strike of midnight through the next 24. Years that I haven’t observed this rule I’ve been miserable. If I’m stuck working I don’t concentrate on the work anyway, too resentful that I didn’t stick to what I had laid down. This year, my festivities are taking place a week late at my favorite place on earth, The Madonna Inn in San Luis Obispo, with the little group I spend each and every birthday with, some of whom joined me on my big night last Thursday at Bar Marmont.

That was just the little hamburger teaser so the day itself, November 10, would not go un-celebrated. But Bar Marmont didn’t happen until 9 PM. so there were many hours to fill with birthday escapedom building up to it. So I spent the day tooling through East LA and beyond photographing my favorite vintage and kitsch spots, eating tacos and picking up treasures at every 98, 99 and dollar store I could find. On my way, I passed many signs like this:

I love handpainted beauty salon signs. Especially because of the portraits, featuring ‘Familiar’ hairstyles of decades gone by, evidently still sculpted inside, and very macho looking men.

I love how massive the male’s head is on this next sign compared to the diminutive female’s that’s sporting the illegitimate hairstyle child of Jane Fonda circa 1967 and me for the last 2 1/2 decades:

Even more than bad art on beauty salon signs I love when a nice Grecian pillar holds up nothing:

Especially if the windows around it lead to nothing but brick.

Windows aren’t the only thing I like painted on walls:

A nice ghoulish girl in the middle of a desert dressed in trashy lingerie sucking on a can of beer is nice too. And I always love a nice family painted on windows. This one kills me because look how perfectly the actual table outside fits in with the grill that silicon-injected mama is cooking on for her family in the mural:

I think you need a closer look at silicon-injected mama. Of course, her upper torso hogs all the attention but can we discuss the size of her thighs and how, if her entire body were painted, she would be 14 feet tall?

It’s always a nice touch when something that should be one word is split up into two. Especially if one of the syllables is ‘high’ and it’s painted to preserve symmetry so that one enters the mar-ket.

I love when letters are missing from signs:

One doesn’t have to look far to discover the mystery here. What’s missing from church is a ‘u’.

One of my favorite genres of signs are these 1950’s style ones on a stylus that contain many different signs to make up one master one.

 

This one is very faded but I love motels so much that I always like when each letter earns its own space:

In its heyday, this one must’ve been a killer:

And I always love when these sectioned signs end up in a 1960 cascade of lights at the top:

I agree that softserve ice cream is important enough to cap off this honey:

Of course, when a sign is carved into the shape of what it is that they’re selling inside it always gets extra points:

But perhaps no sign has had a more pervasive effect on the American culture and landscape than this:

The very first McDonald’s in the world, built in 1953 and featuring Speedee the Chef, is still standing and serving today in Downey, CA.

I don’t know what this structure is hidden behind the fence right next to it but I’m hoping it was some kind of gas station where burger-chompers could fill up their tanks and ingest fumes from the gorgeous 1950’s chariots they were being served in.

Now here’s something I would love to get my hands on. I’m sure Norms was no competition for the almighty McDonald’s just a block away, but this little Dutch-gone-Atomic structure with the big saltshaker tower in the middle was probably what I would have steered toward if given the option back in the day:

I passed a ton of stunning and thankfully still standing architecture on my drive, like this old movie theater very close to the ch rch a few photos back.

The new slapped-on colors are oh so wrong and it’s a shame that a construction company inhabits this instead of a projector and an incredible candy counter, but at least all the details have been preserved

I’m incredibly partial to Deco architecture because I live in such a structure. That these two buildings are still standing on Soto Street is a wonder of anti-wrecking ball nature:

Just as impressive as gorgeous architecture is gorgeous foliage, especially when carved into the shape of  what the architecture holds inside.

I’m not sure if the Del Rio Lanes in Downey is new or old. Although the architecture screams 1950s, the paint looks brand spanking new, refurbished in a way that a Marge’s or Ruby’s diner looks old but is inescapably and cheesily retro new.

The sign looks like the real thing but then there’s something again about the way it’s painted that makes me think otherwise:

None of that really matters to me because they have the good sense to keep the bushes appropriately trimmed:

When it comes to appropriate landscaping. There’s nothing I like better than a nice burger, fries and a coke up on the roof:

 

I’m not sure why the hot dogs escaped sculptural interpretation…

…but they make an excellent roofline nonetheless:

Last but certainly not least, I love a company that sells one thing but moves into a building that represents an entirely different thing in the same genre. This is where I’d want to go if I was interested in cement blocks as a fence, not chain-link.

Even better, what does the elephant have to do with anything??

Perhaps it’s there to remind me that elephants have extraordinary memories, and that I should always remember what a blessed life I have in that I understand that all these things that have crossed my eyeballs through all these years are gifts to make me smile and remember that one thing I love about life so much is that people get to express themselves in all different ways. And most of them make me happy. Which is a nice thing to experience every day but especially on your birthday.

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.

If you’ve got the good taste to be a regular reader of my blog, you know how much I enjoy my Sunday drives with Charles Phoenix.  As much of a kitsch enthusiast and expert as myself, our trips occur at a higher level than just sightseeing. They’re fact-packed, full of junk and ethnic food, and meeting the people who create the great kitsch the first place. A couple of Sundays ago we headed down LaBrea towards LAX. I always love taking that route because we get to pass this building. Too far for me to go to get my clothes cleaned but I can never get enough of the color scheme or the atomically-poked cement blocks.

A couple miles down, after you swing right on Stocker heading toward La Tiera, we reach our first destination, the legendary Pann’s, coffeeshop extraordinaire that has blessedly escaped the dreaded wrecking ball that all too frequently swings around LA.

You can tell from the sign that this place is the real deal. At night, everything white lights up turquoise.

This has to be one of the longest continuous lunch counters left in LA. You can’t see a bunch of it in this photo but it’s that great tufted white leather that makes eating a cheeseburger while parked upon it even more pleasurable.

All of the light fixtures are original. The overhang isn’t bad either.

These long slim tube lights are directly across from the counter.

And these sconces pepper the rock walls.

I’m not going to say much more about Pann’s now as it deserves its own post. But I will say that we were there the day before Halloween and I always love a pumpkin whose features aren’t carved but drawn on.

Should you go to Pann’s, get the fried chicken.

And definitely top it off with this:

Upon exiting any restaurant it’s lipstick reload time. I also take any opportunity to get my 1950’s pizza purse into as many photos as possible.

Continuing on, Charles and I were too stuffed to partake of the treasures inside Randy’s.

So we headed down Crenshaw past this excellent 60’s building:

A closer look at the details:

This building a little east of Crenshaw isn’t bad either.  Don’t miss the plaster boot kickin it on the facade.

After 63 years, Sparkling Cleaners finally closed.  The sign has been picked dry…

…but the structure with that great rounded overhang and freestanding letters is still intact.

Churches aren’t supposed to discriminate:

Speaking of churches, one of the grandaddies in LA is the Academy, on Crenshaw and Manchester:

Designed in 1939  by S. Charles Lee, this is as original and beautiful today as the day it opened.

Original details like these still exist:

And that’s just outside. Taking photos inside is discouraged but I snuck this shot. The beauty outside is even more magnified inside.

Don’t start me on how much I want to do a show here. It’s purple, it’s Deco and it’s beyond soulful, the makings of a perfect stage for a future Soup to Nuts extravaganza.

For one last thrill-seek of the day Charles and I were tempted to hit this little honey parked right outside the church:

But no Randy’s meant that stomach contents had been held to the waterline. So we just headed back down Crenshaw and called it a (very good) day.

I’ve blogged about Riverside, CA before. I hit it at least once a year because my favorite soul food restaurant in the state is there.

You can read more details about Gram’s and see some incredible old vintage signs like this that are thankfully left standing in this post as well.

On a typical trip, I also try and hit all the thrift and secondhand shops that are further into town on Market Street once you hop off of the 60. But this was a very short trip, just to eat at Gram’s and see The Larry Dunn Orchestra, he formerly of Earth, Wind & Fire and who played keyboards on “September” and “Boogie Wonderland” for me at my recent Allee Willis Soup to Nuts live show.

So on this trip I just took a closer look at Market Street in the heart of downtown Riverside. I don’t know what this building was but the shimmering powder blue stone edifice is beyond gorgeous. I shudder to think what that construction fence around it means…

Here’s an excellent use of Chrysler-Imperial-as-awning. Perhaps I should do something like this with my 1955 Desoto Fireflyte:

Despite being a health food store now, The De Anza Theater is a still knockout:

The Mission Inn, a hotel built in 1876 and where the Reagans were married, is Riverside’s top historical landmark. But I’m much more interested in the topiary that tops the columns on the backside of the hotel. If you have any idea what this is let me know. They’re all over the place.

 

I’m guessing this one is a boxing pig:

A little further out on Market, there’s a little time-warp street that intersects it, right before the secondhand shops start.

I know this foot establishment isn’t vintage but I can never resist a name like this:

Leaving the street for a moment, I’ve never seen a Bereavement Center inside a thriftshop before but such is the case at the Goodwill at the top of the block:

Just a hop down the 91 in Corona is this excellence in architecture and signage. Though I would imagine that any Greek might be mystified that a restaurant representing that heritage would feature roast beef and quesadillas.

I always love a good trailer park…

… especially one featuring a curved wall of cutout Atomic cement block.

I love that two trains form the wings of this building. Too bad it’s not a diner and is wasted on a driving school.

I also can never resist the charm of a nice porta-potty  in the front yeard. I love the elegant door on this one, as if that makes it more acceptable to be plopped where it is.

I could have used that facility at the point in the drive I was. Luckily I made it back to the hotel and up in the elevator before duty called.

Be back soon, Riverside.

 

My friend, Jason Mecier, brilliant junque drawer portrait artist and whose edible art we stand in front of in the tableau above, did this portrait of me a couple of years ago when I first opened The Allee Willis Museum Of Kitsch at AWMOK.com:

It’s made out of junque I had lying around my house and storage garage, plus some of Jason’s own stash peppering the green background. I constantly collected tons of found objects because the art I did myself, mostly in the 1980’s and early 90’s, consisted of found objects incorporated into my paintings. This is by no means my favorite and looks all jumbled so small (actually 36″x48″) but it’s the only one I could put my hands on right away:

A couple of years ago I also used some of my junque when I collaborated with my alter-egoBubbles the artist, who I managed during her six-year career selling over 1000 paintings and ceramics. Although not as junque-covered as I would like to show here, this one’s hanging in my hallway which serves the purpose of easily sliding it into this post.

Since Jason’s portrait of me has hung in my house it’s become de rigueur to be included in any press photos I do, like this one from The Los Angeles Times a couple of weeks ago when I did my Soup to Nuts Party Mix live show.

As Jason took found object assemblage to a whole other place I gladly bestowed some of my most precious junque upon him for the portrait.

Now Jason has incorporated an entirely new medium into his portraiture, one of my favorite substances on earth and a staple here at Willis Wonderland, Red Vines. In his show at Iam8bit last Friday night, “Licorice Flix, Edible Movie Mosaics”, he interpreted the movies thusly:

Here’s me and my date for the night, Storm Lee, singer extraordinaire, with Jason:

And here we are with another good friend of mine as she arrives at the opening, Angelyne:

Lots of good friends in attendance, observing brilliant art and munching on the Red Vine “paint”. From L-R, Storm, me, Jason, Adam Ansel and Daniel Franzese.

I first met Selene Luna, co-star of Margaret Cho’s The Cho Show, through Jason and Adam:

I usually get bored at art openings, but between the art, the place – yay iam8bit -, the featured gourmet treat and medium, Red Vines, I was a happy gal Friday night.  I now leave you with Jason’s Nomi slobbering up a stripper pole in the kitsch klassic, Showgirls:

 

To a purveyor of kitsch such as myself, spotting a 99¢ or dollar store, Dollar Tree or whatever other buck or below establishment that bases its name on that spin and carries bargain merchandise, shoots the same kind of joy and anticipation through your body as what Columbus must have felt when he spotted America. I never ever used to be interested in anything that wasn’t vintage but, especially since establishing the Allee Willis Museum Of Kitsch at AWMOK.com and seeing the crap, I mean treasures, real treasures, that people have posted that were acquired at such bargain emporiums, I’ve become a ravenous beast for the contents that lay within. Some of the most popular Bingo prizes at my recent Soup to Nuts Party Mix live show, like jam and jelly room deodorizers, Malted Milk Balls lip gloss, Pen/Stylos, and flowers in a can were purchased for mere pennies compared to their actual kitsch value had they been located on slightly loftier shelves.

But far and away, my most favorite purchase last week in Riverside, CA., where I went to see Larry Dunn, founding member of the group that gave me my start, Earth, Wind & Fire, and his orchestra play in White Park, was this paper-thin metallic tote telling me just what music does:

If I had had enough time to plan I would’ve taken my new flimsy tote to one of the spots I met up with Larry and crew. But I always travel with a digi recorder, a couple pairs of glasses, two phones, an Ipad, three cameras, two Flip cams, a bottle of water, and other away-from-home essentials, all of which would have been too much for this excessively-and-thankfully- kitschtastically-cheaply-made tote to bear, and I’d rather have it in my permanent collection than in the wastebasket at the Marriott where we all were staying. That’s not to say that it wouldn’t have been the perfect accessory to complement the fine meal I had at my favorite soul food restaurant in CA., which I’ve blogged about before and where we all went to eat as soon as we checked in.

Just as Music Saves My Soul on the tote, Fried Chicken, Yams and Greens Save My Soul on the table.

When Larry told me he was performing in Riverside I told him he had to go to Gram’s. When Larry called Gram to tell him he was playing in Riverside, Gram threw a party for the band.

I put my rep on the line when I said Gram’s had the best fried chicken in the state. Larry and his fabulous wife Luisa, also in the band, completely agreed.

As a customer, it’s always a good sign when the only poster on the wall is something you wrote.

The concert was great. As always, I photographed and videoed everything as soon as my songs were played, in this case ‘September”, “Boogie Wonderland” and “In The Stone”, all of which Larry also played keyboards on on the original records. He also played them for me live at Soup To Nuts Party Mix.

So all in all, a very productive and soulful weekend was spent in Riverside. A l’il bit o’ Soul at the 99¢ store…

…a l’il bit o’ Soul food at Grams…

…and a whole lotta Soul music with the Larry Dunn Orchestra.

Which is good as I need a whole lotta Soul this week to write a write a whole lotta:

To say that my first performance in 37 years since jumping off the stage in the middle of my own show in 1974, Allee Willis’ Soup To Nuts Party Mix at the El Portal Theater in beautiful North Hollywood on October 18, was anything like what I expected is the Katrina of understatements. Anything that could go wrong did. But as I’m an artist who plans to the extreme so that when the inevitably unexpected happens it can be swiftly and humorously dealt with, it was a supreme triumph of soul, kourage and kitsch. At past parties of mine, the precursors to my performance now, these malfunctions have been limited to those you could count on one hand. Now, the 6,437,932 technical black holes that befell Soup To Nuts only made for more laughs and make me want to preform more! Not that the mayhem is so easily detectable in these photos, but the fun, style and funk that filled the evening and the days preceding it certainly are. For an overview, start here. For specifics, press one of these lovely buttons now.

I meant to start posting my thoughts about my Soup To Nuts Party Mix show, my first live performance in 37 years at the El Portal Theater last Tuesday night, the day after the show but I could barely pick up a stylus to write let alone move my mouth in any detectible syllabic pattern because I was so tired and overwhelmed. I’m racing to get photos up, a fun yet gruesome task as there are literally thousands of them to go through. Hopefully by tomorrow I’ll have them organized enough to post. In the meantime, let me tell you about this cruise on the Love Boat that mutated into the Titanic yet somehow still ended up at Fantasy Island…

Stormy seas and all, Soup To Nuts Party Mix was about the most incredible experience that I’ve ever had. Not because it went so well, but because literally 95% of the technology it was dependent on failed. It was apparent from the second I walked on stage that I was going to have to throw out the script and effects I had worked on so furiously for four months and literally ad lib my way through the evening. All I can tell you is that despite riding a sinking technological ship, I kept people in stitches, and I mean tears rolling down their faces, screaming laughter stitches, including standing ovations in the middle of the show for things I was forced to come up with on the spot.

So despite being an utter failure as far as the show I planned, it was an unbelievably cathartic moment as a performer. Like five years worth of working the act out within the space of two hours, some time of which I spent sitting down watching brilliant and charitable friends of mine takeover and help me out.

One of  them was the stupendous comedienne Luenell, who has stepped it up at other parties of mine as well and Tuesday night helped a sista out during one of the 6,437,293 technical glitches that befell the stage.

But just as Luenell got to her punchline, something FINALLY popped up on the screen and I had to cut her off.

One of the best moments of the show, although perhaps not for Luenell, was when she then took a seat and the chair started rolling out from under her…

…until she plopped down flat as a log on the floor. When I asked if she needed a first aid kit she yelled “NO, what I need is a lawyer!”

I need the same lawyer for the guy at the controls. But from the jump four months ago I approached this whole thing as a party thrower, not a playwright, and a good party thrower is ready to field anything that goes wrong, even if of a catastrophic nature such as the tech sinkhole happening on stage left. I’m sure a phrase that will stick with my shows forever was born: “Get the foamcore!” as I sent my assistant, Dina Duarte, and set-collaborator, Mark Tomorsky, both on stage with me for the whole show, racing for a ratty piece of paper covered foam to hold over the main monitor every time the wrong photo, lyric for a sing-along or even worse, the tech guy’s desktop, appeared. Here they are hoisting it over what was supposed to be the lyrics to “Boogie Wonderland”, while my collaborator on that song, Jon Lind, kills time with his story about Maurice White, chocolate danishes and other things that happened the day we wrote it.

I doubt that Larry Dunn, founding member of Earth Wind & Fire who played keyboards on the records of “September” and “Boogie Wonderland” and accompanied me on those songs in the show, ever got cut off early before. But I had to yank him short as without lyrics sing-alongs can only be so effective.

Danny Sembello also came onstage for two songs he co-wrote with me, “Neutron Dance” and “Stir it Up”, neither of which were consistently accompanied by correct lyrics.

Chris Price played “I’ll Be There for You”, the theme from Friends and “What Have I Done To Deserve This?”, both of which I was forced to race through without their accompanying stories as by the time we reached them it was already the time I had planned to end the show, 10:15, and we were barely at the halfway point because of the malfunctions. Dina and Mark had the foamcore ready but thankfully the Friends theme is so short and has been hammered into the heads of every audience member a hundred times a day since 1994 so my tech guy could only wreak so much havoc.

And then we were supposed to play Bingo. How do you mess up Bingo??!  But if you’re spelling K-I-T-S-C-H and not B-I-N-G-O and there are no visuals to go along with “K- Dust Mop Slippers” or “T-Flowbee”, “S- Farrah Fawcett Shampoo & Conditioner” or “H – Beatles Pantyhose”, who’s going to know what you’re talking about without visual accompaniment? As soon as it was apparent that that too tanked I just turned to the audience and yelled “Fuck Bingo! The first 20 people up on stage get all the prizes!”. You would’ve thought the Gold Rush hit California again from the way this audience stampeded the stage.

Jelly room deodorizers, soccer balls that turn into magic towels when they get wet, vintage Afro picks, matzo ball kitchen timers donated by Davida (who also contributed the packs of Kosher Kurls in the gift bags), Handerpants – underpants with finger holes so graciously displayed by Daniel Franzese in a shot below and donated, as much of the gifts were, by Archie McPhee… this was one of my favorite moments of the show. To me it’s all about interaction between performer and audience and there they all were on stage like bit players and incredible friends. It truly felt like a party in my yard, which is what I had built the set to look like anyway.

Then I threw in a montage from my musical, The Color Purple, though we skipped the sing-along.

And finally, a veritable tour de force, Pigmy Will doing “The Hustle” played us out.

Just like I never learned to read, notate or write music yet have sold 50,000,000 records, or that I didn’t know you mix paint to get different colors until ten years into my art career, I’m probably the only person in theater history who ever booked the theater before they wrote the show and then performed the show before they had a rehearsal. I am, if nothing else, consistent! It’s the spontaneous event and what happens between performer, audience, and stage, whether it’s in a theater or on my porch, that’s the art form to me. Yes, a stage manager and lighting and sound director would have been nice, as would have been a theater whose usual fare wasn’t Christmas specials and geriatric musicals. But thankfully much of the audience was peppered with people who understand the pitfalls the stage can hold. For example:

My sentiments exactly! All I kept thinking as the world collapsed around me was a) what the f&#k is going on and what the hell am I going to do next??, while simultaneously being conscious that b) this will be my most legendary performance ever because I don’t know anyone else who wouldn’t have walked off stage after 20 minutes. Through it all I just kept going and got funnier and funnier and funnier. So the tech mishaps in their own bizarre way worked in my favor. In the end, I got far more out of it than I had intended. My soul soared, and although I was nearly suicidal by the end of the show it was probably the most artistically satisfying thing I’ve ever done. At once everything was shattering around me in the worst conceivable way that anything can happen on stage, yet it was a totally triumphant evening.

Six cameras were shooting. I realize that a brilliant Waiting For Guffman times 1063 could be made out of it. That’s music to the ears of a kitsch lover such as myself, especially one who’s obsessed with learning how to make lemonade out of extremely rotten lemons. So it’s a kind of Self-Help Waiting for Guffman, or in this case, The Tech Guy. I also realize it gives me an incredible starting point for the next version of the show, which should happen by the end of January.

I will never again be afraid of adversity. I will only look at it as an annoying friend that I have to make the best of, and in the making of that a beautiful flower can bloom.

Tons of photos here!

Well, it’s the last place I ever expected to be the day before confronting the biggest professional fear in in my career, but here I am at 7:30 am. at the knee surgeons. Yesterday afternoon I tripped on a super huge keyboard cable that shouldn’t have been lying where it was while rehearsing with Chris Price, my keyboard player, and neutroned myself flat on the floor like a slab of steel, knees, face and hands crushed with the full force of my body which thankfully had gone on a diet a couple of weeks ago so at least the blow was softened by a few less pounds. When my “Neutron Dance” collaborator, Danny Sembello, came over to rehearse that song and “Stir It Up”,  all had to huddle around me as doctor’s orders over the phone was to stay off my legs as much as possible. Which should make for a very interesting show tomorrow night…

Thankfully, hand therapist Martha Paterson was on her way over to my house to give me a little boost before the show, so that took some of the sting out of my aching neck, lower back, knees and hands.

Always the trooper, we continued the rehearsal while all my nerve endings were being stimulated.

Then, at 7 AM. this morning the ever faithful Prudence Fenton, a.k.a. Snappy P., picked me up and schlepped me to the knee doctor.

With everything on my plate to do today, having Dr. Lee  probe my meniscus and all the other lumps you  can see here wasn’t one of them.

Thanks also to Dawn Smith, who came over late last night to massage the woe out of my about-to-go-on-stage-for-the-first-time-in 37-years body.  I forgot to take photos of that.  Today should be a very interesting day…