COOLEST SLIDE PROJECTOR, EVER

I'm a big fan of mid-century modern design. I mean they had some pretty terrible politics back then, but what a sense of style. And even though the thrift stores are full of the tacky, wacky, and creepy, and that's usually what I post on (can you blame me?), I just gotta share something cool I saw last month.

This Bell & Howell has got to be the swellest (sorry to slip into the 50s slang) slide projector ever made. At first I thought it was a portable turntable, with that checkered grille and big handle.


It even had this cool light gun/wand thingy to change from slide to slide. And it worked! You know that beautiful moment when you plug a piece of machinery in that's older than your uncle and you hear that hum of a well-oiled fan and that smell of burning dust. Oh, it's utter joy , I tell you.


And it got even more boss, because someone handmade this wooden carrying case for dozens of slide reels (no slides of the family trip to the Grand Canyon, though).


Look closely at the bottom shelf and you'll see someone outfit it with 1950's pink shag carpeting to protect the projector. Which is why the Bell and Howell looks like it just came out of Ozzie and Harriet's closet. American ingenuity at it's finest.

And (drum roll please), they only wanted seven bucks for the whole set up. Here's the kicker. I didn't buy it. I know, I know. Running out of room, was about to move, and I don't exactly have slides falling out of my ears.

But, a few days after I took these pictures, I went back to that thrift store, y'know, just too see if it was there. Okay, I probably would have bought it if I saw it. But i didn't. Which leads to the first rule of thrift stores: If you like it buy it, because it won't be there tomorrow.

RANDOM THRIFTY GOODNESS

So I feel guilty that I haven't devoted any quality time to this blog lately. I guess it's kinda like that goldfish or hamster you begged, pleaded, and cried for when you were 7 and then when you got it (for President's Day or some other random holiday) your poor mother ended up having to feed it and clean up its poop to so it wouldn't die because you were too busy watching cartoons and were too damn lazy to do it yourself.

Not that my mother has ever cleaned up my blog's poop. Okay, so that was a terrible analogy. I am in the education industry, y'know.

Anyhow, back to my guilt (which I shall soon transfer to you). Why don't you ever update your blog, you say. Well, in addition to bringing this school semester to a mostly successful conclusion, I am half-assedly preparing for my upcoming nuptials and neck deep in boxes as I pack up all my crap (lots of references to excrement this post, sorry) and carting it all off to greener climbs two hours from here. Fear not, though, loyal thrifties (new word!) for I have it on good authority that one can still find plenty of cool thrift stores adventures in that realm. More on that later.

I will be returning to my in-depth exposé of thrift storing and scoring soon, hopefully, but I hope it's okay that for now I only just serve up some random thrifty goodness. This is sort of the thrift store experience in a nutshell, anyhoo: wander around, find something random and funny, make a wise-crack, snicker to yourself while the other customers eye you suspiciously, repeat if necessary.


My vote for the coolest version of Clue ever. I'll post the weapons sometime. Always was a Colonel Mustard-in-the-library-with-a-revolver man, how bout you?

From a leisure suit jacket lining. Not to be confused with "Fat Dudes who hang out with Hispanics," also of San Bernardino.

Heh-Heh: A Major Motion Picture. Yeah, way more major than The Devil's Rain. Still better than Star Trek V, though. By the way, William Shatner is the only man who can over-act a book cover.


Cherry Cheesecake = Beelzebub. Makes sense. Jesus hates empty calories.

Cuz I can't resists me a good picture of someone peeing on something. Also, check the clothes and drawing style. This drawing was done like 60 years before Calvin from Calvin and Hobbes was peeing on Fords and Chevys. Nothing new under the sun...

I can't resist a good decapitated figurine, either. Does he look a bit like John Edwards to you?

I wish more of my hookers could help around the house, you know, with basic carpentry and plumbing... instead of just being able to f***

Cartoon comic caption challenge! Submit your most creative, hilarious scenario. I just like the art. And the precise and controllable world that Rubber Booty Man seems lives in.

For some reason these puzzles remind me of either fireworks or those Virgin Mary votive candles you find at the 99 Cent Store. And by the way, it took me about five minutes to assemble and arrange all theses canisters in a pleasing order. It's a nervous habit from my five years working at Video Magic.

Better get some mustard on that hot dog, cuz those squiggley lines make it look like it really stinks! Kinda saucy ( I punned!) looking waitress, too. Joan Crawford or Veronica Lake? I'm getting turned on by the condiments. I'm getting turned on saying "condiments."

I wonder why the Packard Bell repair man looks so embarrassed? Probably because there's something wrong with the crappy record player he sold you. Nice of them put this repair sticker right above your turntable.

Sadie Hawkins Dance 1981. She's pretty cute. I wonder why it is then that Napoleon Dynamite's expression says he lost a bet? Maybe they're brother and sister (eww). This also kind of looks like an 80's slasher movie couple, the kids that die right after some "partial nudity" (hopefully not his). Maybe Sadie Hawkins Death? Bloody Hawkins Dance? Sadist Hawkins Dance? No?

And what would be a Thrift Store Adventures' post without a little elf in a terrarium stroking his magic wand? That is what you all come here for, right? Sickos.

STILL NOT DEAD

I am alive and well and still trolling the thrift store aisles. Substantial posts will follow shortly. So, don't touch that dial... if there was an internet dial that you could actually touch. Hmm. Actually, you might want to touch it, because you'd just get bored just staring at these dolls for like a week or so until I post again. Unless, of course, if you're into that sort of thing. In which case, you're probably looking for a different website. Yeah.

KNOW YOUR SURROUNDINGS

So... I live in Southern California, in one of those 1970s-built apartment buildings with the semi-decent landscaping and layout, but whose interiors are in slow, oppressive decay. These places cater to mainly grad students, meth-makers/users, and shall we say, persons of dubious morality. One of the latter, (my upstairs neighbor no-less), the other night, threatened to poop on my car, thrown a brick through my window, and kick my teeth in . Ah, the Inland Empire (meth lab explosion/ identity theft capitol of the USA) :<

But what has this sad story to do with Thrift Store Adventures?

Only that to Know your surroundings is a crucial skill when looking for a decent thrift store. Rule number one is to find a neighborhood that's not too nice but not too shady, either. Too nice and you'll probably not find any thrift stores at all. If you do, they're likely to be "upscale" places with $600 Levi's jeans and other outrageously over-priced ephemera that just kind of negates the whole thrift store mining process. And, you know, the place still smells like mildew.

Now, I lean way more to the shady thrifts, in mildly gentrified neighborhoods. They're generally more interestingly messy and offer up more miracles when you dig than your typical spic and span, what-you-see-is-what-we-got variety. But, there are pitfalls too.

If you go to a place that's too shady it might have potentially nice stuff, but you're also in danger of getting your car scratched or dented, being eyeballed by gang-bangers or being followed by mental cases, or possibly having to wait inside an extra half-hour after you finished looking until that guy who's waving a gun around in the parking lot moves on (all of which are first-hand experiences). More often than not, a shady neighborhood thrift store is not that exciting. It's just dank, dark, moldy, sticky, depressing, and usually a complete waste of time -- that is it doesn't yield.

Not to be all artsy-fartsy, Gleaming the Cube, pseudo-zen about it, but you've to have a developed sense of smell to sniff out the best thrifts. And a lot of that is just getting a feel for the landscape, their natural habitat. It sounds kooky, but it's in the air, like static before an electrical storm.

Had enough mixed metaphors? What follows is of a short guide to navigating the urban geography of thrift stores and their neighborhoods.

Part One: Support Your Local Thrift Store

The Bigger the Better: First off, it's of the big-box variety, which I just naturally prefer. For some, the vastness might be tiring or overwhelming, but in my mind the more room for junk, the more potential for gold. The above store one of my favorites for precisely that reason. A lot of the pictures I've shared were taken inside this cavernous place -- which oddly enough, as kind of tiny originally.

Another thing about this place it still has old signs up in the parking lot from the lumber store that used to be in this space. Look Twice: many thrifts used to be banks, grocery stores, roller rinks, etc.


Nondescript is good: This is another great thrift but it doesn't look like much from the street. Looks like DMV, actually, which would make most people drive fast in the opposite direction. I was taking a new route and the word "thrift" on the sign caught my eye. I went inside, the angels sang hallelujah, end of story.

So there's two more rules right there 1) Take different routes: you might get lost, but you might find a great Goodwill. 2) Autonomic thrift store response: train your brain to recognize this word as you drive by at 35-55 mph. Sometimes you'll get lured in by a Thrift Bakery or a Thrifty Boys Automotive, but more often than not it's a thrift store.


Night time is the right time: sometimes it's just nicer at night, when the aisles are not packed (case in point: only 2 cars in the parking lot on one of 'em is mine), you're less likely to suffer through screaming babies, and you might get lucky and snag something that's being set out the next day or something that someone else hid earlier. And, as subcategory, Flagstone, Neon, and Googie: some of my favorite thrifts are done-up in a space age, oh-so-50s, mid-century modern (aka Googie [or what I call Spears and Bubbles] style) building material. Old is good, because the neighborhood might be old and therefore the treasures more abundant. This Salavation Army (ha! I'm keeping that typo) is smack dab in the middle of Lakewood, one of the first post-war suburbs, and a great retro neighborhood.


Newer and smaller is alright too: If time is short, and I have to choose between older big box and newer small box thrift stores I'm going to go big box. However, the smaller places do have their charms. And you never know. I pulled a 78 copy of Les Baxter's The Passions out of this particular store.

Another sad truth that thrift stores tend to burn out quickly, and the above place is already dead. I used to drive by it everyday, and I would have hated myself If I didn't at least go inside once before it was boarded up. So, I say Get in before its gone.


Stick with your Faves: I'm basically a creature of habit. It's important to take take unusual and varying routes because you just might find a great, tucked away thrift (see above). But as my mom might sing in her preschool class: Make new friends, but keep the old, one is silver and the other is gold.

I have old faithfuls, like the Goodwill pictured. Currently I visit and revisit around 7-8 stores on a regular basis (used to be like 15, but I no longer have that kind of time and gas isn't so cheap anymore). Each thrift store has its strong areas and weak ones. Maybe great for books, but not clothes; wonderful for furniture, but over-priced when it comes to records. Once you've developed a feel for each store's specialness, you can cut out a lot of the wasted time to concentrate on the richness.

But then again, much of the fun of the thrift store is to stray off the beaten path. Some of the best stuff I've found is by wandering into a strange section. Like this 1920s Girl Scouts blouse I found in the kids clothing section (it's Sanforized!):





Next time part two: the people in the thrift store's neighborhood.

Update:

So, never let it be said that eniksleestack ignores his goofs or his readers. About the Girl Scout blouse, TSA reader baikinange said...

Hate to burst the bubble, but if that label goes with that blouse, it's probably not 1920s. The label looks very 1950s-60s. Labels say more than style to determine the period of a garment.

Very true, and I'm usually pretty good at dating garments by their labels, but this time I was a bit off. I did a little research and found out that the distinct "Sanforized" trademark was first registered for copy write in 1930. It was one of the first anti-shrinking processes to be applied to mass produced clothing and was especially popular for uniforms.

Digging a little more (using the fantastic web tool Google Image Search) I discovered this membership card dated 1945 with a girl wearing a similar sailor uniform (in lower right bubble):




I even found some great history about the Girl Scouts and the Mariner program, which the uniform is clearly a part of. According to the site Cheesecake and Friends:

During both World War I and World War II, Girl Scouts served their country on the home front collecting waste fat and scrap iron, growing Victory Gardens, and selling defense bonds. During that time special programs on seafaring and aviation, called Mariner Girl Scouts and Wing Girl Scouts were developed for Senior Girl Scouts.

Ain't the internet grand? And I was only off by 20-some years. :p Still a great thrift store rescue, as far as I'm concerned, and even better now that I know a bit more about its Word War Two heritage.

THIS WAY TO SALVATION

So this is the part where I complain about my busy life. But it's all a pretty happy busy: I'm getting married in July (Woo-Hoo!), and got into to grad school (Woo-Hoo!), I'm moving to a nicer, less-meth/identity theft crime-ridden city by the beach, no less (Woo-Hoo), I'm going to Europe for the first time in August on honeymoon (Woo-Hoo!), after 3 false starts, I've finally got a shiny new working laptop computer, which will be running Ubuntu-Linux on it and that backwards prolonged enema they call Microsoft Vista (Woo-Hoo!), and in two months I'll be done teaching the three history classes I've got this Spring (Hoo-Woo!). Whew! And that's why I couldn't take ten minutes out of my day to slap up an essay on the unparalleled virtues of disco shirts, amateur paintings, broken beer signs, Three Suns records, and other thrift store antiquities.

But now it's Spring Break and within the next few days I'll post some nice pics from the frontlines of the Slave-ation Army's and the Good-whales (just a little thrift store humor -- I know, very little). I'm well aware that nobody really cares if I blog or not (judging by the utter void of comments for my last post :( ) but, well I'm speaking to my loyal fan club, which probably consists of one sweaty dude with a case of OCD, insomnia and an unhealthy fetish for garage sales. The one who's reading this in his underwear at 4:33 AM. I'll call him "Arlo Ratoojay". See you next week, Arlo. I Promise.

THE AMERICAN GOVERNMENT: 84 Years Ago in America

If you've read through this blog, you've probably figured out that I'm a history nerd. And one of the reasons I love the thrift stores is all the great historical opportunities. But it's kind of like a time machine that's on the fritz. You can't really control or predict what you'll find, but if you've got a good eye and an open mind, the cool stuff never stops coming.

I've found US Army uniforms with insignia and duty ribbons from the Second World War, an LP autographed by Sammy Davis, Jr., a pneumatically-inflated dressmaker dummy probably from 1910, a 1960s psychedelic shirt covered with Roy Lichtenstein-like comic book panels, 8mm home movies from the late '50s, luxury cruise ship brochures from the 1930s, and a wide array of cast and crew jackets from more movies and television shows than I care to mention, just to name a few.

Oh, and books. Now, on this site I've exhibited some of the dopiest literary selections one could hope to find, but I also find some amazing books, incredible historical snapshots from our collective past, and often for under a buck. The purpose of this page is document the bounty of the thrift store, but also for me to leave it all in there. But sometimes I just can't resist bringing something home.



Case in point: this plain-looking volume I found a couple of weeks ago, called The American Government , by F.J. Haskin.


Originally published in 1911, this is an "updated" edition from 1923. In fact, it's fairly common to find this type of outdated civics lesson primer on the used book rack. But what really caught my attention about this book was its several pages of fantastic, and sometimes unintentionally funny black and white photographs documenting the progressive state of the American government. Yeah, I like them picture books, and I hope you will too.


I love to see signs of personal ownership like hand inked signatures and dates and such... I just like knowing this was an important item to someone once. I mean, how many of us still take the time to do what Glenn E. Mallory did 82 years ago in Denver? I have to admit, though, that I have no idea what it says just below the date. Something like "Camprivee Living"? Is that some suburb of Denver? Anybody out there have a clue?


But on to the good stuff. "The world's finest precision testing machine," as the caption to the photo states, is so steampunk I can't stand it. I guess this device was used to test the strength of steel bridge beams, and the like, by crushing them under intense pressure... so that dude on the other end is pretty ballsy to be standing by the giant-scary-crushing-killer-screw machine. I'm just saying.


And speaking of cool-crazy-looking old technology, check out these miners in what look like moonsuits, or better yet Boba Fett gear.


Tell me that doesn't look like a rocket pack. And his lantern looks pretty Buck Rogers, too.


So the pictures kind of jump around from contemporary images of American progress to cultural moments from the past. When we see dioramas like this today we sometimes think it's ancient history. But when this book was written, the Battle of Little Bighorn was only 50 years before, the Wounded Knee Massacre was a scant 33 years before, Geronimo had died only 14 years before, and, oh yeah, full citizenship for all Native Americans was still one year away. Adds some poignancy to the caption: "Officials say that more people stand before these groups than before any of the other exhibits" I wonder if that's still true?



Okay, so I love the idea of a hermetically sealed "Master Clock" somewhere in D.C. and how impractical it was to have such a device in the early 1920s. I'm trying to imagine a situation in 1923 when it was absolutely necessary to get super accurate time. And before you got that hyper-precise horological information, you had to go through this guy, the head horologist. Bet he was all like, "Don't touch the clock. Nobody gets to touch the clock but me. I have a key. And a PhD."

By the way, we still have a master clock, except now they use microwave beams fired at atoms.


You think that job's boring? How'd you like to be this poor schmuck, sitting in the basement of the Bureau of Standards with his giant sphere, his array of lamps, his slide rule, and all the time in the world. Hey, it's a living.


So apparently there was a pirate radio station in the basement of Congress. I think the operator looks like he just got caught illegally downloading the latest Al Jolson tune.


So on to warfare. Ah, a simpler time when the sum total of Washington, D.C.'s aerial defenses consisted of four Curtis Jenny bi-plane trainers parked in a grass lot. Oh, but something new has been added -- radio! Yes, according to the author, "An aviator may thus receive instructions from the field while in the air, and may also make a report without coming down." What will they think of next?


Apparently big-ass guns. Five years after the end of the bloodiest conflict mankind had ever known, the so-called War to End All Wars, we were back to celebrating America's ability to blow the crap out of stuff. All these guys are going to be so stoked when they find out there's gonna be a bigger, badder sequel!


This guy's so happy to be sticking his head through a blast hole, he's about to wet himself.


Now this I like. How exciting would it be to see one of these flying over your town? Even the moniker "airship" is kind of romantic. And how wildly-impracticable was it to weaponize a gargantuan, slow-moving, explosive gas-filled balloon? The airship depicted here is actually pretty famous; the USS Shenandoah, which was the first airship built for the US military. Only two years later it was destroyed in a violent thunder storm during a goodwill tour of the Midwest, killing 14. According to Wikipedia, 29 other servicemen survived by "riding three sections of the airship to earth." That must have been fun.


Speaking of warfare, you gotta love this cartoon of a pissed-looking Uncle Sam who's about to give someone a beat-down:

He is the most powerful thing on earth--and all the power he has is yours...

He reads the shifting winds and forecasts the weather...

He marks the ocean lanes to make safe the way of the mariner...

He smites the rock and the dead waste of the desert team with life...

He is the conqueror of disease...

He measures the heat of the stars...

and last but not least...

He speeds the sure, swift flight of the two-cent letter.

Okay, actually that was the least. Nothing heroic about the mail.

This is how the book begins. I guess by the time you got to the pictures you'd have a total hard-on for the American Government. I know I do.

But in some respects, this book is a real downer. All of the rah-rah America stuff is corny to most of us because we live in a post-America-is-a-shining-beacon-to-the-world era. For all their goofiness, the Americans in this book had true optimism. Most of the '20s were an economic boom time and one of practical scientific change, women's suffrage, trans-Atlantic flights, and talking movies. But the public had yet to find out about the Harding Administration's myriad scandals, the stock market crash, the Great Depression, the Dust Bowl, World War Two, and the Atomic Bomb... a scary ride for the next 20 years, none of which this book predicts.

And that's why some of the optimism in the book, rather than make me laugh actually makes me want to cry. Like this passage about the president:



Haskin writes "The President of the United States... can not be a tyrant, nor even a benevolent despot... under our form of government he who rules is in reality the servant of the people.." I wonder if he or Glenn E. Mallory lived long enough suffer through the depravity of the Nixon years, or the Bush administration, for that matter.


Finally, this is my favorite picture in the book. I mean, if it works the way Haskin says it works, shouldn't we be using the imperial Roman fasces, that is, the Mace of the House of Representatives a whole lot more these days?

Imagine this guy's job description: "Must be able to lift and carry 10-lb. Mace on to the floor of the House of Representatives during moments of recalcitrance and step between combatants in effort to restore order." Congress is such a nasty place these days, I just hope that they give the Sergeant-At-Arms guy a helmet and face mask to protect himself. Hey, it's a living.

A New Visitor in the Land of the Lost

1926-2007

Mainly I blog about thrift stores, but this is principally a page about things I care about. So I'd like to take a moment to remember Walker Edmiston, a prolific voice and character actor, who should be highly regarded by anyone who was weaned on kid's television in the 1970s. If you check out his IMDB page (linked above) you'll be truly stunned by the depth and breadth of his career. Although he played many more famous roles, I will always remember him in the role of Enik the Sleestack (my avatar and namesake), a pivotal character in my favorite television show ever, The Land of the Lost. Playing the intelligent, trickster-like, lizard/insect humanoid, Mr. Edmiston was the first person to introduce me (at the age of 6) to adult concepts like the plot-twist, the notion that enemies can become friends, the possibilities of time travel, the promises and pitfalls of science, and perhaps best of all, the boundlessness fruits of one's own imagination. I just learned that he died a few weeks ago, on February 15th, at the young age of 81. He will be missed.