PARTY GAGS... IN ACTION!

There are no fascinating stories or heartfelt memories behind this item. I simply nabbed this box of "Party Gags" from ebay a few years ago. It was produced in 1959 by a Chicago outfit called Fishlove, which was a respectable novelty maker that offered favorites like Yakity-Yak chattering teeth, and a line of "giant" products such as sunglasses, combs, and toothbrushes. (A company called Fun Inc. bought them out and still offers some of their line.) This set was "coincidentally" released the same year that S.S. Adams put out a similar boxed assortment called the "Life of the Party" set. And you'll notice that the bright yellow box pictured above coincidentally bears the same phrase.

I suspect that the notion of a prank kit was spawned from the success of magic sets and disguise kits. I love the notion that one price will buy you everything needed for an outrageous evening of laffs. So just what are the ultimate fun-makers that make up this prankster's plunder, this duper's depot, this gagster's gallery, this kidder's cache??? Take a look!...


I sincerely hope that at least one jokester actually cycled through these gags at some pretentious gathering 40 years ago.

I thought it would be fun to take a closer look at each piece of this trickster's trove (okay, I'll stop.) and see how they appear in the "real world," all set up for a madcap evening.

Okay. You're a socially defective numbskull who's ready to start winning over a room full of socialites. Your first step is to stick this faucet on the TV. It's a an easy move and you're guaranteed to get reactions like...
"Whoa, I must be seeing things!"
 "Get out of town!"
 "I've heard of [something to do with water and television] before but this is ridiculous!"
Now you're on your way.

Now that you've bewildered them.. it's time to play upon their fears. The guest with the smallest bladder will be justly punished by way of an encounter with the horrific Spook Hand. Watch as they flee the bathroom in a state of partial undress. Once the shock and humiliation dissipates, the laffs begin to bubble. You're slowly becoming a hero.

Next, it's time to blast everyone's mind with this ghastly syringe illusion. The stunt won't necessarily make sense in the context of a party, but what's important is that everyone is paying attention to you. They'll be thoroughly disgusted, yet inexplicably drawn to you. I promise.

Just as you're explaining the principle behind the Hypno-Phony to the relieved crowd you'll hear the hostess shouting from the kitchen in a rage. She just went for more paper cups and discovered that somehow the authorities have condemned her cupboard, of all things. As she gives up and heads for the chinaware you approach the cabinet and effortlessly remove the lock. The party goes nuts! Yup.. you're at it again. And with this you've made it abundantly clear to the entire guest list that you are simply...the king.

But, wait.. Who's the blabbermouth in the back of the room who thinks he's charming the group with his pathetic anecdotes and name dropping? (while stealing your thunder) Pull the pre-wound chatter teeth from your coat pocket and let 'em go on a nearby surface. Fold your arms and maintain a smug expression. Watch the conversationalist start to stutter as a proverbial light is shone on his shallow ways. You just made a statement without saying a word. He'll have to run out of the room to chase down his date. And once again... it's all you.

You, the new "life of the party," have the attendees eating out of your hand.. waiting for you to lead them into further delight. No doubt, by now you're ready to finally proclaim your "true feelings" for that certain someone whom you've been eyeing all evening. (though, at this point you could really have any woman in the room.) Time to simply wind up the beating heart gag (which is actually the same mechanism as the chattering teeth) and watch her laugh.. right into your arms.

With this the party is as good as over. You just dominated the social scene and found a life partner. All thanks to a little mail-order ad that caught your eye a few months ago...

This fancy color ad is from a 1960 Bancroft's catalog. It really plays up the "spooky" factor (as though the beating heart is supposed to be frightening). I think "two million shivers" is pushing it (and that's a two-to-one shiver to laugh ratio). Looks like those ad wizards did it again.

"What this world needs is a good laugh." A timeless sentiment indeed. Well, I hope you've enjoyed this "explosion of rollicking humor."

FREAKIES COMMERCIAL

Someone recently posted a beautiful 1974 Freakies cereal commercial on Youtube, and compared to the typical uploads it's of pretty good quality. Until now I'd only seen this one in black and white so it's a real treat in glorious color. It looks like you can get more commercials if you contact the uplaoder. Watch it HERE.

VEGAS SIGN GRAVEYARD

Most folks are just like me when they visit Las Vegas...lazy. Once you arrive you don't want to worry yourself too much with additional plans or reservations, you just want to find that "World's Largest Souvenir Shop" and spend hours selecting gag gifts and a new desk clock with dice for numbers. Well, I've learned that vacation is better when you travel with someone like my friend Jason. While the rest of us were relaxing he didn't mind hunting down phone numbers, making maps and scheduling private tours. That's what you have to do if you want to get inside the YESCO Las Vegas neon sign graveyard, a dirt lot just a couple miles from the old Vegas strip which is home to dozens of historical signs that have been discarded for various reasons. You may recognize it from movies like Mars Attacks and National Lampoon's Vegas Vacation.

A search at Wikipedia revealed this.. Young Electric Sign Company (YESCO) is the oldest and largest producer of electric signs in Las Vegas, Nevada. YESCO has designed and produced many of the signs which have helped define the Las Vegas Strip. Their 'neon sign graveyard' stores signs from the city's past. Many of the signs are being restored and will be displayed in the neon museum.

We made our rendezvous with the tour guides outside a chain link fence over which giant eyes peeked back at us. I found it odd that the company would go out of their way to give tours, though they did require a minimum number of guests. (We didn't meet the minimum so some of us paid double.) An enthusiastic and knowledgeable young couple showed us the whole shebang of signs while filling our heads with back stories and answering our most ludicrous questions. Unfortunately, I can't remember much of their lecture but I thought I'd share a dozen of the snapshots I took during our unforgettable visit. They enlarge when you click 'em.

Who on earth would throw away a sign like this?

This would have been an awesome coincidence if my name were Pat Clark.

Dead signs DO wear plaid. Haw, haw, haw!

Unscrambling the letters almost reveals that this was once the Horseshoe Casino sign.

I'm pretty sure this is from the defunct Dead Leprechaun Casino.

You could still use these if you opened a place called Horn Pa In.

Does the chef's hat indicate that the Colonel actually got up from his white wicker chair for once and made a batch of chicken?

That's one thing you don't see a lot of.. Alpine Hobos.

Snuh.

I must admit that I take great joy in the fact that the stupid fools at the Treasure Island resort and casino decided to downplay the whole "pirate thing" in favor of a more sexed-up image mere months before the new Pirates of the Caribbean movie created a national swashbuckling craze. Pictured above is the skull that used to adorn their once-cool sign. They even changed the name from Treasure Island to the more sultry TI and they swapped the hourly pirate ship stunt show for the insulting Sirens of TI festival of bad innuendos (well, that's what I call it). I hope some group of marketing wizards lost their jobs.

I hope you enjoyed the photos. This post was brought to you in part by the letter...

PHOTOGRAPHY TIP

Drab vacation photos? Push your stomach through those face-through-the-hole photo-op thingies to achieve an image that's reminiscent of a Terry Gilliam movie or a Pink Floyd video.
(Photo taken at The Big Texan, 2004)

GRANNY JO ANNE'S

A couple of years ago my wife told me that she'd discovered a sign about a half hour from our house which she suspected I would be interested in. It was apparently advertising a joke and magic shop and it had a skeleton on it. Yes, I was interested.

On the next available Saturday a magic-enthusiast friend and I set out to visit this unusual discovery. In this modern age you're lucky to find a gag retailer in even the most tourist populated areas. However, my wife's directions were leading us further and further from civilization. As we traveled we theorized that the sign was probably a remnant from a place that had closed down ages ago, or maybe an auction find that someone was proudly displaying. Soon I came to a stop in the middle of the country road... there it was.


The sign demanded to be read aloud.. "Granny Jo Anne's Magic and Joke Shop!?" (I later learned that it's pronounced Granny Jo Annie's, as in Little Orphan...) It was greater than I had ever imagined. It was impressively large and the grim reaper was nicely and stylishly illustrated. I noted the timeless quality of the monument. Granny Jo was clearly doing this thing right, and I found myself suddenly excited. The sign was located on the grounds of a sprawling rural "flea market" that consisted of several buildings resembling the chicken houses that are so prevalent in this area. The near-empty, dirt parking lot made us question its operational status, but the wide-open doors gave us hope.

The interior was jammed with second and third hand products and there sat a man watching television behind a counter which seemed to be a designated money-exchanging area. We silently deduced that the place was indeed "in business" but I saw no pranks or grim reapers or grannys (well, maybe a couple, but they weren't Jo Anne). The offering of goods were a bit rougher than the typical flea market fare, and it was a place where most patrons enjoyed their freedom to smoke while they shopped. Bucking the typical booth system, everything in the room looked to be the property of the TV watcher. But then we saw an entrance to another area.

We walked through to find a dimly lit mall-like layout. There was a long, cement walkway with "stores" on both sides that were divided by wooden planks and chicken wire. Some were padlocked, some were dark, and some were floor-to-ceiling with knick-knacks, but few were manned. Most of the folks shuffling around the hall seemed to be shopkeepers visiting with one another.

There on the right..Bingo!..Granny Jo Anne's (This time the words were on a less interesting sign.. a banner of dot matrix printer paper). Thankfully the lights were on. It only took my friend and I to make the 9' x 9' "show room" feel crowded and the piles of packages on the floor didn't help. Granny must have been conducting business elsewhere because the heavily cushioned stool behind the display case was empty. There was a surprisingly wide selection of products. Most were newish, some were homemade and all were haphazardly displayed. My eyes instantly started mining through the clutter. I was quickly crestfallen as I realized the bulk of their selection was produced by that all-too-prevalent pollutant of the joke biz... Loftus.

Loftus is a horrific brand of novelties that spread through the country like a plague during the 1990s. They achieved widespread distribution by undercutting established joke dealers with chintzy knock-offs of all the classic gags. They are the arch nemesis of industry originators like S.S. Adams and even Franco American Novelty.

(Click to enlarge)

It's likely that your eyes have already been violated by their grotesque packaging. They adhere to a visual landscape of metallic fonts and gaudy gradients inhabited by rosy-cheeked, over-sexualized, anime-influenced characters. In harsh contrast to the classic jolly joker in a plaid suit, these vector-illustrated drones seem to treat pranks and magic as nothing more than foreplay.

I continued to scan the room for diamonds in the rough when the enormous clerk pushed his way to his perch behind the counter. He asked us if we wanted any free stickers bearing anti-drug slogans.. for the children in our lives. We politely accepted them. After the initial awkward moments we realized that this prank pusher was a whole lot of fun and wanted nothing more than to talk shop and demonstrate magic tricks. We gabbed about everything from the local magic scene to the store's fictitious namesake. My friend and I took turns shopping and speaking. We both understood that this man, who was "in it for the love," deserved some patronage on this dismal Saturday morning. I grabbed an Adams' Production Box trick and a handful of others before I unburied a pretty cool find...


It was old and the box was terrific (I love the slogan "Entertaining but Harmless") although the items inside seemed to be a Granny Jo Anne's custom mix of trinkets. Some fun stuff (vintage even), but not an authentic assortment.

(Click to enlarge)

Although judging from the mismatched typfaces in this ad that I found, the box may have been designed to hold any products in need of liquidation...


Our lengthy conversation with the clerk was actually interrupted several times by children hitting him up for anti-drug stickers. He told us that he used to give out free balloons but they just caused too many problems.
Another welcome diversion occurred when the Latino blanket salesman from next door (a regular customer) stopped by in search of the perfect prank to play on his visiting mother-in- law. The clerk rattled off a list of suggested joke items but the man said he had already pulled every last one of them. The customer eventually discovered the Gelling Joke, a powder that instantly turns liquid into gel (I can vouch for its effectiveness). His eyes lit up. He gleefully paid and exited with a wide grin as he muttered in his thick accent "Oh, yes.. this is good. This is very, very good."

I topped off my shopping bag with a seven inch, pinkish, glow-in-the-dark, rubber skeleton...


I was amused when the clerk assured me that if I unveiled it in a darkened room during a faux seance, it could easily pass as a life-size specter standing in the doorway. This has not proven successful. I blame stupid old depth perception.

My friend and I walked out of the primitive mall quite satisfied and knowing that we had a new story to tell. I never did return to Granny Jo Anne's. There's just no way that another visit could ever top my first.

COMIC ART MAGAZINE #8

Just FYI- I'm a contributor in the latest issue of Comic Art magazine. I wrote a brief article called "The Art of S.S. Adams" that's followed by an eight page showcase of said art. Most of the images are straight out of my book, but I gave them a couple pieces that didn't find a place in Life of the Party.

If you're not familiar with it, Comic Art is sort of a dream-come-true for comic enthusiasts. Their web site says it best...
"Comic Art is the only beautifully produced, full-color art magazine focusing on the comic medium. The material covered is wide-ranging: newspaper strip, magazine panel, and comic book art, both historical and contemporary... Comic Art emphasizes outstanding print quality and lush production values..."

The latest issue has taken the publication to a whole new level. With 172 sturdy pages, It feels more like a book than a magazine. Each feature is lengthy and in-depth, and the coverage ranges from pure "pop" to stuff so obscure you will probably never see it anywhere else. Therefore art from a turn-of-the-century French humor magazine gets equal treatment as Warlock, Marvel Comics' rarely honored "cosmic adventurer" from the 1970s. Kudos to you Comic Art! As Cabin Boy would say.. "Awards all around!"

SKULL RIDERZ, WITH A "Z"

I saw this interesting item today at Wal-Mart. It's called a Skull Riderz and it's from the West Coast Choppers series of remote control vehicles. He jumped out at me as quite a cultural Frankenstein. Here are a few influences that I picked up on...
-Ghost Rider skeleton-on-a-motorcycle concept
-Freddy Kruger striped sweater (well.. with black instead of green)
-Outlaw Biker red German stahlhelm
-Chuck Taylor-esque high tops (with Khaki pants of all things.)

I laughed aloud when I noticed that one of his hands is designed to form the classic "devil sign."

While in the store I had a few chuckles and moved on, but now that I've pondered the power of the Riderz I've added him to my shopping list.

CHEVY SHOWROOM MUSIC 1972

It should be of no surprise that listening to vintage music is a favorite pastime of mine. I've also noticed that there's something extra fun about music that was never intended for consumer use. I have a number of recordings that were meant to be played during a certain time, in a certain place and then discarded. This is an ephemeral favorite of mine.. it's a record that Chevrolet distributed to their dealers called Building a better way to see the U.S.A. Music. Here's a description from the back of the jacket...

"Looking for a happy, encouraging sound- listen to this complimentary record. It's the theme music taken from the '72 Announcement meeting. We encourage you to share this happy sound with your showroom visitors. It's all part of a great new advertising campaign that will be seen and listened to by your prospects in the next few months...a better way to sell Chevrolets."
(The record is only a half hour long, so the salespeople could potentially hear it up to sixteen times a day. And hopefully they had a record player that could restart automatically.)

The LP opens with a vocal track that's all about the vastness and diversity of the United States...

"It's a land that's made from differences
but where all the edges touch
from the Mormons out in Utah
to the Pennsylvania Dutch"

After some hopeful introductory music there are a couple tracks dedicated to Chevy history (musical stylings that are synonymous with black and white footage of jalopies spouting smoke). These finally lead into the relaxed beat of the "modern" showroom. The remainder of the album consists of distinct variations of the main theme, each representing a different Chevy model. From easy going ditties for the Station Wagon, Nova, and Monte Carlo to the sophisticated melodies of the Impala and the Caprice (which is seen on the cover). Naturally the Corvette and Camero are musically portrayed with brassy excitement. The El Camino music is particularly interesting because it's your standard, twangy "chase music" that brings Smokey and the Bandit to mind. Are they implying that the El Camino is the ultimate getaway car?

The scene on the cover is actually pretty inspiring even though the "family" is so ridiculously staged. Like action figures, everyone has their own accessory.. and little Billy had to bring his baseball mitt to the mountains.

This is one of my favorite records and I've always thought it would make perfect road trip music. So I finally took the time to convert it into highly portable MP3s. I see that this album is being offered for 200 bucks on a rare vinyl web site (I paid one dollar at a thrift store). Save yourself the expense and just download it here...

Download via Mediafire: HERE
Size: 41.7 meg
Run time: 29.5 min
Bit Rate: 192 kbps

SNAPSHOT- JANUARY 1982

(Click to Enlarge)

Fueled by my new addiction to this blog, I recently paid a visit to my mom's place in search of my childhood photos. It wasn't long before I located the mother lode.. or should I say my mother's load of pictures. Between the many albums of snapshots and the fresh memories they've unlocked I've got more new blog fodder than you can shake a joystick at.

Speaking of which... there's a certain perfection to the photograph above. Everything is as it should be. Two-player Space Invaders with some good friends. A couple of the guys felt like taking their shoes off to get more comfy. The boy in plaid is in classic belly-on-floor, legs-kicked-up entertainment mode. I (on the right) was having fun even despite my velour shirt. The kid on the far left probably walked in the front door and became mesmerized by the game so quickly that he sat down without removing his coat. Forty-five minutes later after he gets "game over" he'll realize that he's been broiling in his own sweat and rip off his Steelers jacket in a spasm.

Boy, that little corner of the house still seems so inviting to me. Everything is warm and earth-toned, as if we were all gaming in a cave during an autumn sunset. The fact that the Atari 2600 console was designed with a slab of fake wood on the front doesn't seem so strange when you see it in the context of this photo. It blends in seamlessly with the environment.. wooden walls, wooden television, wooden video game system. Though the picture is from the early 80s my living room was clearly reeling from the bicentennial year of '76. I mean my television appears to have been crafted by a Colonial woodworker. Can you spot the oil lamp, the old fashioned iron, the nineteenth century school desk complete with copper candlestick that's straight out of Dickens? (There's actually a butter churn hiding behind the guy in the jacket.) But please don't think I'm knocking the decor. Is the modern living room so much better? Have we found a couch pattern that's going to transcend time?

Anyway, I'll leave you with a parting thought inspired by the photo.. I wish you many times of simple pleasures among friends.

PEE-WEE HERMAN'S WALLET

Francis Buxton may have stolen Pee-wee Herman's bike, but I have his wallet! Well, this is a relatively ridiculous post, but I was recently watching one of my favorite flicks ..Tim Burton's Pee-wee's Big Adventure, and I noticed that the wallet Pee-wee hands over to the fortune teller is like one that I purchased at a dime store in Branson Missouri a few years ago.


It's only on the screen for a second, so no doubt you'd like to get a better view of the excellent Wallet...

The detail that sets mine apart is the faux wooden(?) background. It's tough for me to determine which one is cooler.

Upon further inspection, the wallet contains a photo of Pee-wee and his beloved bicycle.

Well, look at that. I too have a photo of myself with my own cherished bicycle. Now I suppose you demand to know how my bike could be anywhere near as awesome as Pee-wee's.

(Image borrowed from Tic Toc Toys)

Well, in 1980 Post cereal held a contest that invited young participants to draw themselves eating any Post brand breakfast cereal with their favorite DC superhero. The grand prize was a family trip to Hollywood where the winner would receive the honor of eating breakfast with one's DC hero of choice. The contest allowed for an unlimited number of entries, so I got to work.

I invested unprecedented amounts of time and attention to detail on these illustrations. Eventually I managed to generate a respectable stack of work (for a kid). My dad sat down and took a look at my creations. He quickly realized that he needed to have a delicate discussion with me regarding the difference between Marvel and DC heroes. A painful and unforgettable lesson was learned when I was told that roughly half of my artwork was ineligible.

But I persisted. A trip to the neighborhood convenience store provided me with a fresh list of "favorite" heroes. In the end, only a half dozen drawings made my personal cut including the one pictured above in which Aquaman summons swordfish to crack open a cereal-filled chest as he simultaneously fends off the giant, hungry sea serpent. Meanwhile I (in diving gear) proclaim that "I wonte [sic] the cereal." It's a classic "bird in the hand.." scenario because the commotion allows the octopus to steal our breakfast. I don't know if it was this one, the Batman one, or the Giant Apache Chief that did the trick, but...


Yessir, I got one of (probably) a couple thousand bicycles that were issued as "second prizes," which was fine by me because in hindsight I realize that the top award was nothing more than an elaborate lie. The grand-prize winning kid had to learn years after the fact that Superman or whoever (whom they'd flown all the way to Hollywood to dine with.) was actually just some guy who happened to fit into the suit. Years after the "winner's" deceptive vacation was but a memory I was still cruising town at ten different speeds.

I wonder what they would have done if the winner had requested a mega-obscure hero like, say Weirdo Legionaire? What sort of get-up would they have scrounged together?










Here I stand proud with my prize as my sister (in back) tests out her newly inherited "Coast King."

And while that bike photo is handy, I just want to point out one of my all-time favorite t-shirts. It depicted Frankenstein on the operating table with the slogan "Some mornings I need a jump start." See it in this blurry close-up...

So now you know the story of my favorite T-Shirt.... Wait, wasn't I saying something about Pee-wee Herman?