The masses have spoken: you LOVE The Damon Show! Actually that’s not true. Compared to the numbers that followed Boing Boing’s link to our “The Little Cloud” filmstrip, only a small handful bothered to check out the other material on my YouTube “channel.” But that’s okay; Damon’s fans like it — especially those folks who were actually in the show! This is problematic, since he keeps getting requests for footage that only exists in my collection on old video cassettes buried heaven knows where in one of my closets. I’m a loving brother and all, and certainly the cruddy VCR copies should be preserved one day, but for now, I’m sticking to stuff that’s already in the can.
Monthly Archive for April, 2008
I’ll be the first to admit it: I don’t “get” the Las Vegas concept. It promotes several debilitating vices, it’s overflowing with one of my least favorite creatures on earth (human beings) and it’s a model for knocking down cool old shit to make way for ugly new shit. About the only thing I want to do there is fly in, grab a rental car and drive the hell out of town, preferably to some any of the beautiful wilderness one state over. Oh, and that’s another thing: its very hideous presence means there’s necessarily that much less beautiful wilderness on the planet. But you could say the same about any city, so I can’t really deduct points on that count.
Classroom Filmstrips have been a staple of kitch fans since time immemorial (that’s about four decades, in Kitsch Years), yet the Web still lacks a truly marvellous repository of the things. (Note: You can go here, but they are mostly films.) Collectors are apparently afraid to let them out of their little plastic tubes for fear they’ll crumble in the air. Others would rather compile them onto equally crumbly paper and weigh in on the matter with their own two cents. I found a few promotional items, like this Esther Williams swimming pool endorsement, and some from Ford Motor Corporation. But the only school related material I found relates to the sub-genre of anti-drug propaganda. But I’ve found little that relates to such all-important topics as personal hygene, public safety, good citizenship and religious instruction.
If you’re lucky, and you haunt your local dollar bins long enough, you’ll still find albums on the Alshire label. But the best ones are getting harder and harder to find. You’ll still come across the odd 101 Strings album, provided it doesn’t have hot models in skimpy sixties getups on the cover — most of those were snapped up and shipped overseas long ago. But you’ll almost never find records by the Animated Egg, Doctor Marigold’s Prescription or John Bunyan’s Progressive Pilgrims. You also won’t find too many albums by the subject of this week’s featured fetish, the California Poppy Pickers.
Continue reading ‘Blue-Eyed Soul By The California Poppy Pickers’
A couple weekends ago, time and the weather permitted my wife and I the opportunity to hit the road. Naturally, I wanted to take pictures, so I lobbied for a drive to my old fave haunt, the Miami/Globe area.
Miami’s charm is undeniable. Huddled around decrepit mining operations, crumbling homes rub shoulders with shuttered processing plants and massive barren tailing mounds. The best stuff is out of public view, hidden behind locked gates and barbed wire fences on land owned by the mines, which continue to function. But the neighborhoods offer up plenty of wealth on their own. My wife hates it when I hunt for subjects in the residential streets. She feels that homes should be off limits, and says it’s only a matter of time before I earn a confrontation with an irate resident. But these places are clearly empty, and not long for this world. Besides, I can always say I work for a real estate company.