Sunday, October 07, 2007
I WOULDN'T EAT OFF THAT... If I Were You
The first time I went in a thrift store as an adult (23 counts, right?) I was desperately looking for a ship captain's hat for a stupid Halloween costume (U-Boat commander... yeah, no one else got it either). Anyhow, I ran in this tiny little store, looked around at all the "crap," and of course I didn't find what I was looking for, so I left, disappointed. I didn't yet understand that thrift stores don't work like regular stores.
The second time I went in a thrift store was probably a few months later. This time I just browsed around at whatever they had there, and I remember finding a GAP sweater for $2.00. It didn't fit, but I was so shocked you could find a $40 sweater for two bucks I just had to buy it.
A few years later, the first thing I ever bought at a thrift store and then later sold (yes, I'm one of those eBay hucksters) was a railroad mug. I payed 49 cents for it and unloaded it for a whopping $4.
By that time I had realized there were goodies in every nook and cranny of the thrift store and I had better investigate it from all angles. The good stuff, of course, is interspersed between a lot of crap, some of it funny and some of it disturbing.
In the kitchenware section there's always plenty of stuff that makes you cringe or wonder if it will ever get purchased. Especially since our feeling of food and comfort are so closely linked.
Getting your picture taken on a city balcony and having it put on a plate probably seemed like a great idea that one time you went to Hong Kong with your seniors group, but here are the results. Can you imagine eating a Salisbury steak while staring down at an unflattering picture of yourself? Me neither. Apparently she came to her sense and sent this off to Goodwill for our viewing pleasure.
Okay, this is far cuter, to be sure, but what is exactly going on here? First of all, are we supposed to "eat your honey" while slurping it out of this juice glass? Or, if you're drinking apple juice out this glass, wouldn't it just confuse your taste buds? And what's with these bees? One looks confused and angry and the other is smiling while he falls over. How does that imply honey is healthy? Is honey healthy or just sweet bee snot?
This cup says to me: "I re-upped for your crummy war and all I got was the crummy coffee mug." Hope they at least got a nice tote bag or t-shirt to go with it.
Only slightly better than staring at yourself while you eat is staring at Lorne Greene and Michael Landon while you chug your hot cocoa out of a rusty mug. Yum. But, oh that Dan Blocker, he's so dreamy! I could stare at him all day. Hey, where the heck is Pernell Roberts? No love for Adam Cartwright?
I'm not a fan of mushrooms. Something about eating fungus. I can't really understand why images of mushrooms were so prevalent on kitchenware in the 70s. There is no way in hell I would ever drink from this pitcher. Can you imagine it filled with milk or orange juice? Excuse me while I upchuck a little.
"Miracle Kitchen Clamp." Yeah, right. Calling Dr. Mengele, Dr. Joseph Mengele. The only question I have is "Is it safe?"
What could be more patriotic than a bowl full of Cap'n Crunch and the pallid, glassy faces of the founding fathers with their cold, dead zombie eyes regarding the signing of the Declaration of Independence? How about not reducing your country's foundational moment to a Corningware pattern. Don't even get me started about the historical inaccuracies.
More patriotism on a plate. First of all, is this Lincoln's tombstone? Secondly, I realize a child made this (or perhaps a psych ward inmate), so I can excuse the coloring outside the lines, but it makes Honest Abe, the Rail-Splitter, the Great Emancipator look like a dirty hippie, maybe even Charles Manson-like. Not so good for the digestion.
What I love about this is tub for grease is how boldly it's labeled and that apparently every good 1950s kitchen needed a huge bucket of grease. Mmmmmm, just like Grandma used to make.
Some might say these mustachioed and decapitated chefs' heads are delightfully whimsical. I think you know by now how I feel about whimsy. I don't really trust their faces, either.
I will admit that these sake cups are cooler, but there's something creepy looking about ugly, grumpy, hairy old-men wrapped up like babies scowling back at you. I'm sure there's a traditional Japanese folk tale that explains everything, but I think I'd rather have the DTs.
Not a piece of demented kitchenware, but it does involve indigestion of a kind. I just love that both books were right next to each other. I wonder if the original owner found what they needed. Just a drop or two in Bob's coffee. That will teach him to mock my kitchenware. Maybe the cops are getting wise. The books said it was untraceable poison, right? Can they hear that incessant heart-beat from under the floorboards? It's Deafening!!!
These would be great on a coffee table, though, huh? Just to keep your significant-other in line.
Finally, what can only be described as a big , nasty, brown poop jar. Perfect for your Oreo cookies, Baby Ruth candy bars and Tootsie Rolls. Bon appétit!