THE BEAUTY OF PEGBOARD

Not so long ago an online commercial for a service called Dollar Shave Club popped up and captured the affection of the internet. To date, it's been seen over four point seven million times, and at least a dozen of those views are mine because I keep going back to look at the cool office in the beginning.

Here's the commercial if you haven't seen it...


The opening shot is brimming with three of my favorite decorative elements: wood paneling, pegboard and vintage toys. For the benefit of humanity I've taken some high-res screenshots (click them to enlarge)...

The first things I noticed were the Flintstones figurines and the Bam-Bam and Monchichi bubble bath bottles, but soon it became apparent that it's not just toys, and it's not just old stuff. There's a package of decorative tile and even a personal breathalyzer (in that steering wheel package.) It's a mishmash of unrelated items, some playthings, some utilitarian, and it proves a universal truth: anything looks cool hanging on old pegboard.

Another angle and we see stuff like poker dice, a disposable camera, Mario, chip clips, a Record Vacuum, a magic marker book with cassette, and a plastic, uh, is that Deputy Dawg at the end? EDIT: Nope! Thanks to Calamity Jon we know it's Ricochet Rabbit!

These are the things I would like to know...
1. Was this office set up like this before the shoot, or was there a genius set designer involved?

 2. If they found it that way, then what sort of business is it?  A distributor? Do they sell a raw material that wound up in each of those products? Do they offer packaging solutions or something? Or does the office just belong to a frequent flea market shopper?

UPDATE: I emailed the Dollar Shaver Club and they said, "Nope! No designer needed. The office was exactly how it looks in the warehouse. Everything there is the owner's stuff."  They didn't say anything about the business or who the owner is, but I'd sure like to congratulate them on their taste.

The entire warehouse looks pretty wonderful. Pale green metal machines are such a pleasure to look at.

Anyway, I've been trying to pinpoint why I find this so appealing and I think it goes back to my grandfather. Grandpa's home office was a magical place.  For starters, it was the only room in the house with an air conditioning unit in the window, so after returning from a sweaty tractor ride to the local gas station for candy I'd burst in and stick my face up to the vent for a blast of glorious freon-scented cold.

Grandpa was a salesman for Newton MFG,  an outfit that sells business promotional items. They can put your name on anything from ink pens to wooden nickels to fly swatters. Hiding all around Grandpa's room were fun, plastic samples that changed with every visit. A toy car on his desk, a box of stress balls on the floor, or a sales kit of sample key chains (or "fobs," as he called them) were wonderful discoveries in an otherwise toyless household.  Best of all, we often got to take home these treasures. So packaged doodads and offices have been married in my mind since boyhood. (I so wish I'd taken a picture of that room. Thankfully I did get to keep the ever-present plaster eagle and paint-by-number Jesus from his wall after he passed away.)

While I'm on the topic, here are a few more pegboard related items.  First, a shot of my own wall display of dime store toys (taken from an old Mr. Toast photo session) The pegboard came from a defunct shoe store...

 

Speaking of Mr. Toast, his creator Dan Goodsell sent me this amazing photo of the Joseph Cossman Co. booth at the 1965 New York World's Fair chock full of products on pale-aqua pegboard. Cossman was the novelty business king behind the Ant Farm and the Spud Gun.

Here's a shot of one of my favorite places, Dicks 5&10 in Branson, MO. They have a pegboard wall in the back set aside for gadgets that you rarely see anymore like pocket protectors, fizz-preserving soda bottle lids, suction soap holders and push-button "handy adders."

My favorite wall of sample products in the world had to be the one I saw at the S.S. Adams factory in Neptune, NJ in 2005.  This dusty display had been hanging up in the second floor since the 1960s...

Auto supplies in LA's WACKO!...

I tried to recapture some of that magic with this pegboard spinner rack in my own home office...

UPDATE: I just remembered this pic that Dex turned me on to (via)...

It exemplifies a huge reason why I'm so fond of pegboard, it served as a background to nearly every cool product I ever bought during my childhood.  (See more vintage toy store pics at Plaid Stallions.)

So there. I must say I've surprised myself with the number of relevant photos I found on my computer.  Oh, and if you're wondering, this is not a paid endorsement for the Dollar Shave Club. Being a work-at-home designer guy, I hardly ever shave.

IN DEFENSE OF 'TRAIN SIMULATOR'

A couple years ago I noticed that a PC train simulator called Railworks (which has since been renamed Train Simulator 2012) had become a popular laughingstock among the members of the Reddit gaming community.  I understood why after I found a few gameplay videos like this one...

Compared to the hyperactive cyberworlds that we've come to expect, Railworks is a snoozefest.  There are no enemies or obstacles. Of course you're literally on rails, so steering isn't required.  Primary controls are limited to forward, reverse, throttle— oh, and a there's a windshield wiper on/off switch.

Your in-game character lacks any super powers, or a sword, or even a key chain container of mace. You don't sport body armor, or even a leather jacket. In fact, this is you...

The missions occur in real-time so in some levels you can set your train on course and actually leave the controls to go play X-box for an hour before your locomotive needs further attention.

Naturally, the game's low stakes anti-action invites this sort of send-up...



Actually, the mockery wrought by Railworks is nothing compared to their street cleaner simulator. I'm serious. The Gamespot community banded together to ironically vote it up as the highest user-reviewed game on the site. The staff responded with this tongue-in-cheek, seventeen minute video...



Railworks most joked-about feature is the additional downloadable content that's available for it.  The core game runs about thirty-five bucks and comes with a variety of engines and routes, but if you wish to add to your collection you are faced with dozens of expansions that range from five to twenty dollars.  And if you want all of the extras? Unless you wait for a sale, that will literally cost you $2,027.97!  The DLC is key to their business strategy to the extent that Railworks 2 owners were automatically issued a free upgrade to version 3.

So I laughed along with my fellow "hardcore" gamers.  I took time from my own pointless geekery to scoff at the lesser dweebs who are so easily placated with sub-par graphics and pricy, new CG train models. But at some point it became a fascination with me, as these things often do.  I found myself looking up sincere in-game footage and visiting Railworks message boards, on which a fair amount of time is spent defending their interest from the heckling trolls at large.

My mind kept returning to the Railworks enthusiasts, and I started seeing things through their eyes. Of course it's mundane, the goal is realism, and real conductors could not sustain decades-long careers if they faced daily warfare or alien invasions. And the developers don't expect anyone to purchase all the downloadable content any more than a hobby shop expects you to buy one of every model train that they sell.  Speaking of which, model train collecting can be even more expensive, and they only travel in circles.

My respect for the Railworks community began to grow as it occurred to me that their passion does not require thrills, instead they are contented by life's subtleties. Their fantasies don't rely upon adrenaline or destruction, they just wish to peacefully command a Class 47 Triple Grey all the way from Oxford to Paddington.  They bask in the sights of the uninterrupted countryside. Their serenity is found in the rhythmic valley echos of rumbling tracks. Hobbies are supposed to be relaxing, right? Most of my video gaming ends up driving me to internet walkthoughs in fits of frustration.

It wasn't just the Railworks state of mind that I envied, I also fantasized about having enough spare hours to leisurely delve into each sauntering level, gazing at my monitor blissfully, pausing only to adjust the camera angle every few minutes, or turn on the windshield wipers.

By the time Railworks 2 went on sale for eight bucks I was primed to join the ranks of the noble virtual conductors. I proudly bought a copy.

The cross-country journeys were as soothing as anticipated and I even felt like I was getting a pixelated glimpse into the United Kingdom where most of the missions take place.  The environment is said to be pretty accurate.  I decided to put this to the test when I noticed one of my routes passed through the city of Slough which is known to me as the setting of the original British version of The Office.

Here's an actual photo of the city with the fictional Wernham Hogg building highlighted (otherwise known as Crossbow House at 40 Liverpool Road.) Notice it's just a block from the railroad...

 

And here's the in-game neighborhood with an approximation of where the building would be...

Such simple pleasures go a long way, but the truth is, I haven't become one of them.  I've played for twenty-plus hours, but I rarely complete a level without acting on the urge to derail. I have little to contribute to the message boards, nor can I share in the excitement over the announcement of the latest downloadable train.

I even purchased a downloadable content package. Trains versus Zombies for $5 seemed impossible to pass up, but it turns out the zombies are just the regular passengers with green-tinted skin. They never rush the train, they just stand at the stations checking their watches.

I'm sure I'll continue to revisit the game from time to time, but what gets me excited is the thought of future editions when the landscape will eventually resemble a true virtual reality.  As soon as I retire my first task will be to upgrade my copy to Train Simulator 2038.

GAMES YOU CAN'T WIN OR LOSE

One of my favorite aspects of being a collector is reclaiming relics from childhood that somehow got away, especially the obscure ones. One of my latest recoveries is Games You Can't Lose! (1977), a 48-page made-to-be-a-gift booklet, thus the authors were uncredited.  (For the record they are Herbert Kavet, Paul Deboer, and illustrator, Martin Riskin.)  It's one of many transitory titles produced by the American Publishing Company which may be the same outfit that put out a series of jigsaw puzzles-in-a-can, Presto Magix sets, and a vintage Party Survival Kit that I got last year.

My dad bought the book as a gift for a colleague, but upon closer inspection he decided it was a bit too risqué to pass along; a wise move considering his very conservative social circle. So it found a home under a pile of unpaid bills on my father's bureau, but such an eye-catching cover could not go unnoticed by a seven-year-old such as myself, so I took a gander.

Actually, I was completely unaware of the few objectionable bits which include a KKK gag (that the internet has already found) as well as a word my dad had scribbled out beyond recognition in an early attempt to salvage the gift. He had replaced it with "Director of Student Life," presumably the job title of the would-be receiver.

But for me the book didn't need vulgarities to have shock value. The concept alone seemed impossible, defying every children's activity book on my bedroom floor.  The parody factor went beyond Mad Magazine because this was a fully developed product, like a Wacky Packages come to life, forever mocking the stack of Highlights for Kids in my doctors office. The fact that it was designed for sophisticated adults only added to the appeal.

I felt empowered as I breezed through the puzzles, several of which can be seen here...

Years later I was tagging along with my mom on an afternoon of errands that took us to a drug store called Collier's in a neighboring city.  Unlike most of mom's stops, this place had an ample selection of interesting products like party favors, gifts, and even better, gag gifts.  In a cruel twist of fate it wasn't until I was exiting the shop when I noticed this at the top of a spinner rack...

I gasped. The mysterious, mind-expanding publication had a sequel! I pleaded with mom to go back, but she announced that our next lame destination would be closing soon.  I never even got to open the book— until recently when I finally bought it online.

 

  

While the revelation could never match my initial childhood discovery, I took great pleasure in finally quenching my curiosity.  I especially like that a number of the pages have an opposite counterpart in the other book.

Truth is, I didn't have to wait decades to see more from the APC collection. A few years after Games entered my life, A Get Well Book For _____ (1979) showed up in my household. This time my dad was on the receiving end.

It was certainly worthy of its place next to the copy of Games You Can't Lose in the top of my dad's closet.  Though it lacks the "high concept" of the other books, it still has the endearing artwork of Martin "Marty" Riskin.

A recent googling lifted away the shroud of mystery on this prolific artist.  Marty Riskin's web site showcases many of the 250 books he's illustrated, most of which include the words sex, beer, or fart in the title.  Marty is obviously a fixture of the American gag culture, and there's no telling what sort of influence he's had on my own mind and output.  I've made it a point to further explore his work, most recently by way of this second hand copy of Riskin's Believe It Or Don't (1979).

 

 

When I was in junior high I asked my dad if I could adopt his two APC titles into my own book collection.  He handed me the get well book, but informed me that at some point he'd gotten rid of the other one.  I was obviously disappointed, but with hopes of some consolation I asked, "Do you remember the word that you crossed out of Games You Can't Lose?"

"Yeah," he replied. "I think it was 'necrophiliac.'"

And that's how I first learned the meaning of the term 'necrophiliac.'  Thanks Marty.

THE LATEST OF MY FAUX FAMILY PORTRAITS

In 2008 I created my first fictional family colored pencil portraits with the hopes of getting into Gallery 1988's Crazy 4 Cult art show (a process I detailed in this post.) At the time I would never have guessed I'd still be making them five years later, but I recently created a dozen more for a two-man art show at Gallery 1988, Venice Beach which is still going on until June 2nd.  The show got a really nice review on Glasstire, and some great coverage on Huffington Post and Slashfilm! But in an effort to save you a trip to the West Coast I've conveniently posted images of all the artwork just a few inches below this paragraph.  Scroll down (if it isn't too much trouble) and you may take a look at these "love notes" to some of my favorite productions put to film. Make sure to click to see them much bigger.  (Some originals and prints are still available here. My previous portraits can all be seen here.)

Title: The McDunnoughs

Dim: 8"x10"

As you may recall from the film, the McDunnoughs do take a snapshot of their newfound family by way of a cheap, black & white camera on a tripod. I started to simply reproduce that, but in the middle of the process I scrapped the idea because it was a bit too spot on.  Being a huge geek, I like the portraits to gel with the timeline of the film (or series), and I even try to pinpoint when it would have been taken, be it before, during or after the story takes place.  However, in this case I made an exception, this is the way they wished things would have turned out.

Title: The McClanes

Dim: 11"x14"

This is the only time I've done my own interpretation of an "existing" portrait from a film.  It seemed like the thing to do since the photo is a key plot point, and since Die Hard is one of the greatest things my eyes have witnessed.

Title: The Whites

Dim: 11"x14"

I think the concept is at its best when the entire family is at the core of the story.  In the case of Breaking Bad, everything is done in the name of family which ironically, destroys the family.

Title: The Weirs

Dim: 11"x14"

The Weirs from Freaks and Geeks are more real to me than any fictional family I can think of.  Everyone gets fleshed out over the course of the amazing series and their personalities and relationships seem as complex as anyone I've ever met.

Title: The Mayweathers

Dim: 3.5"x4.5" (each)

This treatment seemed appropriate because I don't imagine this father and son spending much time together.  The way I see it, William (the dad) sent the family photographer to Nathanial's school and put the result in the fanciest frame possible.

Title: The Drapers

Dim: 8"x10"

 While researching 1960s portraits I found a number of them with the family posed in this double column arrangement.  Funny how today's forced informal arrangements appear even less natural than this.

  

Title: The Buxtons

Dim: 8"x8"

Years ago I realized that I owned a souvenir wallet very similar to the one the Pee-Wee has in "Big Adventure" so I thought I'd use it as a springboard for this wallet size format.  To give it that extra spilled-wallet-ness I designed two fake business cards for Pee-Wee's favorite establishments.  The Buxton men are among my favorite minor characters ever, I wish they had their own movie.  

"Spearmint or Fruit?"

"Err.. fruit please."

I can't even guesstimate how many time I've quoted those lines.

 

Title: The Buellers

Dim: 11"x14"

This is one that I've intended to do since the very beginning but somehow put it off until now.  This is easily one of the most influential movies of my youth.

Title: The Bluths

Dim: 11"x14"

 "Where is George Senior?" is the official FAQ of this whole project.  Answer: He's in prison or in hiding.  So why not Oscar then?  Because no.

Title: The Fischers

Dim: 5"x 7"

I started to do this piece much larger but it did not seem like something the characters would have in their humble home.  All of Wes Anderson's movies have a such a way with quaintness, they also have a lot of red curtains so I made sure to use those as a backdrop.

Title: The Gopniks

Dim: 11"x14"

This was a commissioned piece and my third visit to the Cohen Brothers' world.  The inspirational film is A Serious Man and as I watched it again for this project it's subtleties really blossomed for me.  The configuration makes more sense after you've seen it.

Title: Mister St. Clair

Dim: 11"x14"

I decided to break the family mold for this one, I figure Corky has enough charisma to be the star attraction (plus his wife never seems to be around.)  I've seen a lot of this type of photo, especially involving dancers, and they always crack me up.  The fairy-like floating self reminds me of the proverbial angel or devil on your shoulder, either that or an "I'd rather be..." fantasy thought bubble. Plus I couldn't resist finally using the casual ladder prop.

Title: The Emersons Revamped

Dim: 11"x14"

From the beginning these portraits have been a matter of the execution trying to live up to the concept.  The results throughout have been hit and miss, and I think my biggest miss was "The Emersons" from Crazy 4 Cult 3.  In 2009 I raced to complete it along with three others in time for the show and the outcome has been nothing short of cringe-inducing.  The Lost Boys is one of my all time favorite films and it deserves so much more than I gave it.  So in an effort to improve upon my artistic crimes, I took an eraser to the original and revamped it. (get it?)
Here's a comparison...

When it comes to likenesses it's amazing what a somewhat misplaced feature or two can do, not to mention some amateurish hard lines.  The "afters" are still far from great, but the process was quite cleansing.  Maybe next year I'll pull it out again and add in Jar-Jar Binks.

(As I said before some originals and prints from this show are available here.)

KIRK DEMARAIS & DAVE MACDOWELL ART SHOW AT GALLERY 1988

 

My first-ever two-man art show opens at Gallery 1988 Venice Beach this Thursday, May 10 from 7-10 PM!  I will be there Thursday night, ready to spend hours expounding on the meaning and significance of my fake family portraits.  I've created a dozen new ones for the show including the two seen here.  (The Gollum-surrounded Dude is the work of fellow artist Dave Macdowell.) Giclée prints of three of my pieces (The Bluths, The Drapers, and The Whites) will also be available.  If you can't make it, everything will be viewable on the gallery's web site the following day, and eventually right here.  Either way, I sure hope you'll be in the mood for looking at things!

MY TRIBUTE TO "THE BEST SHOW" ON WFMU

UPDATE: My piece has sold! (profit will go to WFMU) And you can see all the artwork here.


This Friday, Gallery 1988 Melrose will unveil the second installment of Is This Thing On?, an art show hosted by "Weird Al" Yankovic saluting our favorite funny people, and I'm way excited to be among the artists. My comedians of choice are Tom Scharpling and Jon Wurster of The Best Show on WFMU because about 75% of my weekly laughs come from this three-hour program. Here's my piece...

Click to enlarge

For those unfamiliar I'll quote Patton Oswalt from a recent article in SPIN,
"Trying to explain The Best Show on WFMU to someone who hasn't heard it can be one of the most frustrating tasks on the planet. [...] The simple explanation is this: For three hours each week, a guy named Tom Scharpling gets on the radio, plays some cool records, takes some phone calls, and then his friend, Superchunk and Mountain Goats drummer Jon Wurster, calls up and acts like a jerk."

I thought the duo was a perfect fit for a 1960s-era LP cover in the tradition of Bob Newhart, Paul Lynde or Rowan & Martin because their lives revolve around music and to me their comedy has a classic, timeless quality. Over the years they've built a self-contained mythology of characters, events, and places (i.e. Newbridge). Unlike typical radio teams they rarely depend on the latest happenings of pop culture, on the contrary they often employ hilariously obscure cultural relics and people in their vernacular.

It's performed live (though carefully written) and a single exchange between them can go on for the better part of an hour which lets the laughs gradually build to a frenzy as the absurdity reaches new depths. This breathing room also lends itself to wonderful subtlety, and once you pick up on the rhythms and running gags (which are the inspiration for many of the album's would-be tracks) there's even more mirth to be had.

And that's not even touching on the other two-thirds of the show in which Tom uproariously reflects on life's day-to-day struggles, regales us with tales of his past and toys with the clueless callers in a Bug's Bunny-like fashion.

If it's still unclear... I recommend this show.
You can listen to it live each Tuesday night at 9PM Eastern, or here are the archives, or you can subscribe to the podcast via itunes

Anyway, the "LP cover" poster-print also comes with the original colored pencil art (below) and any profit I might get will go to listener-supported WFMU. So if you're interested call or email Gallery 1988.

MISSILE FIRING TANK FROM HONOR HOUSE

There is a subcategory of comic book mail-aways that could be labeled "Cardboard Vehicles" no that's too boring, how about "Corrugated Fiberboard Dream Machines." Actually I'll stick with the first one. The most often advertised Cardboard Vehicles include the Polaris Submarine, the Jet Rocket Space Ship, and the Missile Firing Tank (a Space Shuttle emerged later on.) Prior to this day, I, nor the internet at large has yet to witness any photographic evidence of the tank, and I think you sense what's about to happen. Yes, thanks to the unbelievable archives of Dan Goodsell of Tic Toc Toys and creator of Mister Toast you are about to witness THE MISSILE FIRING TANK!!...


Dan says "this came from a binder full of samples from the Gibraltar Paper company that made tons of instore cardboard displays from grocery and supermarkets. This was the only non-display item in the binder. On the back in pencil is written S. J. Wegman Company [the outfit behind Honor House] - Corrugated Tank. Most all the stuff in the binder was from the early 60's" (Thanks again Dan!!)

Ta-dah!

SPOOKY OLD IRON-ONS FROM ICEE

Recently cryptozoologist Robert Robinson emailed me pics of these 1970s Halloween iron-ons because 1.he is a nice guy and 2. he knows we have similar interests. But what he didn't know is that he was offering me a precious long-lost detail of my own Halloween history.

Back when I was three and still letting my parents pick out my Halloween costumes, my dad assembled this getup out of a souvenir hat from the Pirates of the Caribbean ride, a foil-covered cardboard saber, and a discarded pillowcase bearing...the skull iron-on!


Thinking it was a cereal premium I've gone on several fruitless searches for the relic, but it all made sense after Robert informed me, "The glow in dark iron-ons were avaiable from Icee. My uncle owned a franchise in Arkansas and gave my brother and I a bunch of these."

This makes perfect sense because the local 1-Stop Mart was the destination of countless afternoon strolls with my family, and we bought so many ICEEs there that to me it was known simply as the ICEE store. I also had that place to thank for stacks of plastic super-hero cups that were taller than me. When they changed over to Slush Puppie [sic] drinks I desperately wanted to see that droopy-faced pooch get mauled by the ICEE bear.

Anyway, I'm just glad my dad picked the skull and crossbones because the skeletal hands holding the hourglass might've been a bit grim for a 3-year-old.

EVIL-EYE EVADER

"Beware! This very moment, someone somewhere, may be giving you the Evil-Eye...and YOU don't even know it. For your personal well-being please DO NOT ignore this sincere warning! "

Sorry to shock you like that, but now you know how I felt when I was confronted with this message in an ad from an old issue of Ghost Manor ...


(The scan came from a really cool comic ad blog called Four Color Promises)
The advertisement does a great job of outlining the product's many mystic powers while neglecting to convey what the Evil-Eye Evader actually is, thus a new mail-order mystery begging to be investigated.

Ebay turned up nothing, but Google was quick to serve up a blog post at Mike Sterling's Progressive Ruin that instantly solved the puzzle


To tell you the truth it exceeds my expectations. Seeing how I'm a wee bit jaded when it comes to comic book marketing my best guess was that it would be an incantation printed on cardstock, or something along the lines of those paper prayer rugs you get in the mail. Thus... Customer Satisfaction: Un-hexpected quality.
(I'm so sorry.)

Check out Mike's blog for more photos and info.

By the way, I'M the one who's been giving you the Evil-Eye! Haw-Haw!

BIGFOOT AND GRAY

I've been following the work of Spümcø animator Chris Savino for years now and it's been a long-time dream of his to put together his own show. Four years ago he started documenting progress on a show called Bigfoot and Gray about, yes, Bigfoot and an alien. It's been very interesting to see his creative process unfold, and to see how he's creatively handled the various limitations that any project like this faces.

Well, he's finally got a polished one-minute presentation piece that's definitely worth a look. With the influence of entertainers such as Jay Ward and Sid and Marty Krofft, Chris has captured a bit of magic from the Saturday mornings of yesteryear and I certainly hope that it will eventually find a home on screens across America, nay, the world!