No funny magazine scans this week, kids. Sorry. I'm too busy nursing a head cold and preparing for my bizness trip to Atlanta.
But just because I'm not making fun of any ads from bygone days doesn't mean we can't have a little fun retro-style.

File Under: Retro

Okay... so for years, YEARS I tell you, I have been telling people about a show that used to be on Nebraska Public Television back when I was a whipper-snapper. Most of the people I spoke with who were in Nebraska back then remember Once Upon a Story, which was about a Librarian (unimaginatively named Marian) who was captured by a witch and held prisoner in a tree and had to put some crap in a computer/machine/box-thing and out would pop a book. It's a pretty fuzzy memory, but it was something like that. Then there was another version that was more outer-space driven, possibly with the same librarian only captured by an alien mom with a huge blue afro who was worried that her kids watched too much of the tele-screen. There was a computer named 1-Z-2-Z and probably the same magical box-thing that you put random shit in one end and out popped a book that would fire up the kids' imaginations and they'd lose interest in the blank blue screen they stared at all day long. Pretty heavy-handed metaphors for TV and whatnot, but they were campy and fun.

Although people remember those two shows, it's a much smaller group... just me, actually, who remembers Reverse the Curse. The premise was pretty simple, like the other shows. Created artistically as a reaction to the King Tut phenomenon of a few years prior, the premise was a couple of librarians who had a very "Peppermint Patty and Marcie" style relationship decide to become archaeologists and they discover the tomb of King Hop-to-it. But thanks to a plot-convenient curse, they're trapped in the tomb until they solve all the reading hieroglyphics on the walls with the help of the afterlife-active and very femme King Hop-to-it.

For a long time people thought I made this shit up. But thanks to the magic of YouTube, I proudly present the pilot episode of Reverse the Curse:

Part One



Part Two



See what I mean.

Thanks to the dude who uploaded this (check out his channel) and to Brad on myspace for finding it.

UPDATE:
As usual, Matt came through in the comments with the real name of the blue-afro haired educational show: Star Lore. More campy goodness from UNO back when they actually produced content here in Omaha. It does not appear to be on YouTube yet, but if someone out there knows about where it can be seen, please get me the deets. Thanks!.


File Under: Sad News

So some of you are aware that I bitch and moan constantly that I live in Dundee proper but am oft ignored for it. The Douglas County Assessor's Office has the house listed as being built on "Farnam Place" which I had just assumed was a subdivision of Dundee circa 1915-ish. Well, a little rudimentary research uncovered the ugly truth. I had been operating under the influence of some bad information. Apparently according to this document on annexation and growth from the Omaha Public Schools and the Wikipedia entry to back it up, Omaha annexed Dundee before 1920, when the house was built. This effectively means that I have no claim to being an old-school Dundee resident. So I guess I'll just be shutting my big yapper about it. Dammit.

UPDATE:
I wrote this after taking NyQuill for my head cold. That's why it has some of the worst sentence structure in human history. My apologies. I was mid-delirious rant.

Mick Dundee, also not a resident of Dundee

File Under: They be hatin'

Two more stories of people hating on Apple, the company that can do no wrong in my eyes. Oh sure, nobody's perfect, but this is out and out mean. The first piece of hate was from the New York Times about how the rise of crime can be directly related to iPods. I decry shenanigans on this one. Nobody raised a stink when Nike came out with new Air Jordans, despite stories of kids being shot for them. It's correlation versus causation here, kids. People see what they want to see.

The other piece of hate comes from Dongmei Li, who is suing Steve Jobs, Apple and AT&T because the price changed on iPhones too quickly. Miss Dong is taking advantage of America's wide-open legal system that lets anyone willing to try and take a swing go after a company or companies with gobs of liquid cash for some trumped up bullshit deal. She's seriously pissed that the price dropped because they didn't have a reason to drop the price, and they discontinued her 4GB model too quickly, ruining her resale value. No, seriously. Apparently she thought she was going to make a fat pile of cash selling a used iPhone when stores were still full of them the next day. Keep hating, haters. If you don't like it go use your Blackberries and your Dells with Windows Vista and shut the hell up, thanks.

That's all for this weekend. It'll be few and far between this week, but I'll try to do some photoblogging from my sequester in the hotel during the conference.

Keep on a-rockin' kids.
Huzzah.

Sorry it's been so quiet this week, kids. Been super busy with the upcoming out-of-town conference. I feel like such a grown up, going on a business trip.

Anyway, despite the mountain of work sitting in front of me, I need to make mention of this: Gateway Computers announced/released their new all in one computer this week. Surely you remember Gateway Computers. They're the ones with the cows, because their factory is in South Dakota er... Irvine, California where there's lots of Dalmatians(?). Jog your memory? They had a bunch of retail locations, but people didn't want to drive to a special location to purchase an overpriced and poorly assembled computer. Or a flat-screen TV, which they tried to sell when the computers weren't moving. Anyway... you remember.

So check out their new all in one. The unimaginatively named "One":

Interesting. It looks somewhat familiar, yet slightly dated. I can't put my finger on where I've seen that before... oh wait:

There it is. It's like a totally sloppy and poorly ripped-off photo-negative version of the previous edition of the iMac with some shades of the 20th Anniversary Mac (insofar as it's stationary and has no tilt/swivel capabilities).

Why, Gateway? Why must you suck so much? Just an uglier and shittier Dell. I know I rant about Mac superiority, but this shows that Gateway isn't even trying anymore. It's brazen yet thoughtless. It's what a Bricklin is to a Ferrari. Shameful.

But unless you think you need to do a little Mac-hatin' to even things out, check this link to Valleywag's cute little piece about what the world would be like if everything were sold like iTunes. Haters keep on hatin'. Enjoy your Napster, or whatever it is that you use.

More later, kiddies.
Huzzah.

What the hey, I dug out another old magazine for a little bit of fun-filled retro magazine-ing.

This time around it's a Popular Science from 1982. This one was procured by my parents for reasons that you will see below.

1982. That doesn't seem like that long ago, I mean I was 8 years old so how long ago could it have been? Well, it was 2 years before the concept of the "personal computer" became a widely thought-of idea. Prior to that year AT&T was known as THE PHONE COMPANY, because there wasn't such a thing as competition. But thanks to some regulations being put on the telecom industry AT&T became 22 separate companies, many of which were purchased back by AT&T, most recently Cingular. The U.S. had trouble with the Libyans, which is quaint by today's standards and there was that war in the Falklands, but that was the U.K. and Argentina so nobody in the U.S. really seemed to care. Braniff Airlines went broke, Rubiks Cubes were new, Knight Rider first hit the air, fax machines seemed futuristic and with the exception of Hall & Oates and the B-52's, most popular music was shitty, at least until Thriller was released in December.

But Popular Science wasn't a magazine that concerned itself with the present. It was too busy thinking about.. THE FUTURE!

The future of SCIENCE!

As you are about to find out, the future according to 1982 is pretty damned ugly.

Let's dig in, shall we?



My good golly. And you thought the $100 computer project, or the OLPC project as it has come to be known, was a new idea. Piffle! People, and by people I mean the nerds who read Popular Science, were already thinking about a $100 computer. Although, it really wasn't technically $100. And it was only a computer in the loosest sense. The Timex Sinclair 1000 was a glorified calculator that, if you can tell by the scale on this cover, was tiny tiny tiny. You could get a gross thermal printer and use any TV as your screen. Fantastic.

Amazingly the Sinclair 1000 has a fanpage. But what doesn't these days?



Sinclair, sans the help of Timex, also offered the ZX81. A personal computer you build yourself for a mere $80! Doesn't that sound like a blast? A jillion tiny screws and sensitive little chips with easily bendable pins offering up to 16K of RAM, but more likely the much more affordable 2K. Wow! Watch out, Cray, there's a new game in town. But seriously, go ahead and install Windows Vista on there, but keep in mind that the Aero Glass visualization probably won't work.



The reason you don't see too many of these VW Pickups on the road anymore is because most of them disintegrated. Sure, they suffered from VW's anemic engine issues. They had that unique blend of low horsepower and very little torque that made these laughable for hauling anything substantial. But for the most part they just rusted to dust, and that's even in dry and salt-less climates like the dessert. Here in the midwest they just turned into a pile of orange detritus in the driveway after the first winter-weather road salting. The owner's only solace being that they were so horribly ugly that no amount of rust made them look any worse.

And speaking of cars...



Chris looked at this page and appropriately responded "everything old is new again." Yeah, you thought the 30+MPG car was some recent concern? Oh no. As you will see later on, '82 was a big year for energy concerns. So Popular Science decided to do a side-by-side on three of the dumpiest looking small 4-door sedans in production at the time. I say three, because the Volvo actually looked a little badass at the time. But in this rogues gallery, being the least ugly car is hardly a heated competition.

Let's look at the contenders:

Volvo GL - It reminds me of a line from that horrible Dudley Moore movie where he has all the people in the asylum become ad agency creative personnel. "They're boxy, but they're good." As true then as it is now, although they finally got a little less boxy. Easily the most handsome of this lot.

Peugot 505 S - People in Nebraska didn't buy these, so I have no frame of reference. I'd like to think it was because we didn't have a Peugot dealer, but it's more likely because it sounded "too French" and in '82 you bought 'merican, by God.

Oldsmobile Cutlass Ciera - One thing you must hand to Oldsmobile, they were consistent with fugly cars that offered "detached from the experience" handling. Yes, they maintained that consistency right up until the brand was phased out in 2004. A pretty depressing ending for a 107 year old company, no? This is notable for being the first production year of the Cutlass Ciera, which was an attempt to move from gas-guzzling to gas-sipping.

Pontiac Bonneville - Unlike with most things GM, this wasn't just badge-engineering. Amazingly the Bonneville did not share platforms with the Cutlass. This Pontiacwas downgraded for the '82 model from a full-size to this mid-size. And instead of sharing the platform with the Cutlass Ciera, as you would imagine, the Bonneville was more or less a stand-alone with the Cutlass sharing its platform with the Pontiac 6000.

This is probably more than you would ever begin to think about caring about these butt-ugly cars. But now you know.

And on the topic of vehicles...



It would be pretty generous to just call this bike horribly ugly. It looks like something a very fay Bond-villain henchman might ride. You fully expect the driver to be a lisping Max Zorin-helper that's going to pick up a parachuting Grace Jones while riding up a mountainside. Take everything that's cool about the motorcycle from Akira and everything that's cool about the lightcycles from TRON and remove all the coolness and this is what you're left with. A faceted gay luge-bench where evidently backseat riders must rest their feet on the engine. Nice engineering.

I don't care if you're the fuckin' Fonz, it is IMPOSSIBLE to look cool on this thing.



A Mini-Van?!?! What kind of crazy idea is that? Keep in mind that this is a full 2-years before Chrysler "invented" the minivan with the aid of Chairman/Lovable Old Coot Lee Iacocca. Apparently the European division of Ford was already on the concept, but had yet to perfect the insertion of 12 or more cup holders, giving Chrysler the design edge that it holds to this very day.



A good word for this photo is unfortunate, however a better word is hilarious. Dude, I know you've been working on the optical disc project for a while, but for your own sake could you at least try not to look like molester-villain archetype? It kind of like "What if Jim Henson had been myopic and mildly retarded" sort of look going on here. Not good.

And what's he holding? Oh yes, it's a CD!

Thanks to these bastards, the guy in the dorm room next to you was able to listen to Limp Bizkit's "Nookie" over and over again without it ever wearing out or breaking. How great is that?

In a way I wish the discs had stayed that big. It would've forced some pretty radical re-designing of automobile dashboards, which I think would have been good, or at least hilarious for the industry.



Look at the size of that thing!

A side note, Matsushita Electric Industrial, Inc., who made the above CD/VCR thingy, also made the VW 6-disc changer that I'm selling on Craigslist. They currently own Panasonic, Quasar, Technics, Lumix digital cameras and some no doubt crazy-ass thing called the Yam Pounder model SD-2100Y. Does it pound yams? If so, why? We may never know.



I love the tiny tub. "Only room for a small tub?" Then knock down a wall or something, because unless you're a midget little person, this will look absurd in your bathroom.



This is why I had this mag in the first place. It goes along with all the other 1982 Worlds Fair stuff that now sits in the garage. You see, the 1982 Worlds Fair was notable because A) I went to it, and B) it was held in my mother's hometown of Knoxville, TN. And long before Al Gore made a feature film out of his powerpoint presentation, the concept of alternative energies captured the imaginations of at least a few of the people who came to witness this event. People knew in 1982 that we were running low on gas as a planet. Did people just somehow forget for 20 years?

When people think of the '82 Fair they think of one thing:



The iconic, and shockingly still-standing Sunsphere. There was a petition passed around that successfully got the city to open the Sunsphere back up to the public for a little while. I missed the window, but so far as I know they have no intention of getting rid of it. I drove right past the base of it when I made my surprise trip to TN for my dad's operation (see previous post).It still represents now what it represented then, a big gold ball in the middle of a bunch of buildings. Truly moving, or inspiring... or something.

There's some other crap, but why spoil it? That's the highlights of this issue.

I'm sure there will be more retro fun to come, but I need to dig through some old mags for some content. I'd love some suggestions, either via the Contact Me page or in comments below, so feel free.

In the meantime, kiddies, take 'er easy.

Huzzah.

Time for another political weekly roundup. I should've done it on Friday, but busy busy busy (see below).

Let's kick off with yet another spectacular Special Comment from Keith Olbermann (From Thursday's Countdown on MSNBC):



There you have it.

Here's the copy from this week's DC Blitz, in case you missed it on Pat & JT on Friday. It's normally on Thursday, but the Jeep broke and I was vehicle-less.
This contains my notes and is unadulterated in any way. So when you see things like "(pause)" that's where I pause for comedic effect. It rarely works. Do you really want to see how sausage is made?
(As usual, special DC Blitz thanks to Wonkette, Politico, The Raw Story & The Huffington Post)

DC Blitz

Condi gets kicked to the curb by the Pope
Pope Benedict the X-V-I turned down a request by Condoleeza Rice when she asked nicely for a papal audience during Pope Benny’s holiday in his Castelgandolfo residence near Rome. Hmmm... Was it because he sent a special Papal Envoy to the Bush administration in 2003 admonishing the immorality of the then-proposed Iraqi invasion? Was it because His Holiness was P.O.’ed at the way Iraqi Christians are treated under the new Iraqi constitution? Uh... Maaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyybe. [BBC]

Early Fall Vacation Destination!
According to twincities.com, the hottest midwest vacation destination is... the “Larry Craig” bathroom. People are evidently taking pictures of the famed stall. If you visit, it’s by the lottery shop next to the shoeshine stand in the Minneapolis airport, second stall from the right. Next time you’re connecting through and have a few minutes, swing by and see where America’s favorite Senatorial Sex Troll ruined his career. But remember, no foot-tapping.

Strange Differences
Speaking of Larry...When Louisiana Senator David Vitter, he of the DC Madam call list, returned to the Republican weekly policy meeting after confessing his prostitutional consort he was greeted by a round of welcoming applause by his peers. When Larry Craig pulled the old “I’m back” suprise-a-rino this week. Well, the vibe in the room was more like “aaaaaawk-ward!” So remember future GOP politicians, prostitutes = okay, a consensual, if sleazy, trip to the lavender park... no no no!

Oh, Ernie!
Nebraska State Senator Ernie Chambers this week announced he is suing God. He claims it’s to make a point about frivolous lawsuits, but frankly... I hope he’s successful. I think we’re talking class-action lawsuit here and I want in. Here’s my personal message to Ernie Chambers: See you in hell, buddy! I’ll be the one roasting for all my rampant onanism.

Sounds like Boo-KAY-see
In a somewhat surprising announcement this week, President Decider Comander-guy selected retired judge Michael Mukasey to replace habitual incompetent Alberto Gonzales for the position of Attorney General. The wonks around DC were hanging on to the idea that Bush would nominate rabid ultraconservative law-twister Ted Olsen, but for whatever reason the president chose someone who might actually stand a chance of being competent at the job. And before all the lefties start high-fiving, let’s keep in mind that Mukasey, who is likely to get the nod from the Senate, is a big fan of the Patriot Act. So if you have anything nice to say about him, just say it in a regular phone call... because the line is probably being tapped by the government.

Blitz & Pieces
Alan Keyes announced he’s running for President... again. This news was greeted by a nation that collectively shrugged silently, then turned back to their bag of cheetos and NASCAR race. ... Apparently there was a “Values Voters” Debate last week, but Mitt Romney, Rudy Giuliani, John McCain and Fred Thompson didn’t show up, so Mike Huckabee won. I hope he savored the moment because it’s unlikely he’ll hear that phrase ever again. Finally... CREW released their report of the 22 most corrupt members of congress, you can read all about it at beyonddelay.com, and lest you think I’m totally biased, I’m happy to mention that a whole 4 of them are Democrats.* ... The Gull Meadow Corn Maze in Richland, MI this year is in the shape of Gerald Ford’s head. (visit gullmeadowfarms.com if you don’t believe me) For anyone listening under 35, Gerald Ford was the 38th president of the U.S. known for falling down a lot and pardoning Richard Nixon: and despite this distinction he was still a better president than the current one.

*(William Jefferson[LA], the money in the freezer guy; Alan Mollohan[WV]; John Murtha[PA]; and David Scott[GA])

And finally, the must-read link of the week. Author and provocateur Douglas Rushkoff wrote a spectacular piece for Arthur magazine this week on why 9/11 conspiracy theorists do much more harm than good. I'm usually too quick on the draw when it comes to breaking out the tinfoil hat, but this piece resonates with the kind of critical thought that's too often lacking in modern discourse.

That's all for today, kids.

Huzzah

Hey Friends, Loved Ones & Wierdos stalking me on the internet,

Sorry I've been out of commission all week. I have good reason to be. Allow me to run down the craziness:

1) Big Work Event. I'm going to be in Atlanta the better part of the first week of October at a work conference. Before you think it's some sort of party-filled event you must know that my department has had to handle ALL the marketing for the event, which consists of the usual "people making absurd requests at the last minute." We usually acquiesce and fulfill their absurd requests because we are professionals. But all this rigamarole has already made us grumpy/punch drunk. Then I have the unique distinction of being the member of the department that goes to shmooze with the peeps. That's shmoozing from sun up until the cows come home. There will be no partying in the A-T-L for me, I'm afraid. In fact, it's unlikely that I'll be able to escape the hotel. There's much much more to this story, but I don't want to get fired... so just ask me sometime and I'll whisper the deets to you.

Despite what you see here, they're actually quite capable. You just have to not be stupid.

2) It's a Jeep thing, I don't understand. When is an all-inclusive warranty not all inclusive? When it pertains to me, it would seem. The electric fan on my radiator fried, causing the Jeep to overheat at stops. No problem! It came with an extended warranty! Whew. ...oh, wait. Apparently said warranty doesn't cover this specific part or the labor. Congratulations to me! Now I have to poop out $500 because I'm not mechanically adept enough to replace this $30 part myself. Which leads to...

3) Something I truly hate to do. I'm going to have to flake on an out of town gig. The week after I get back from Atlanta, my internationally renown comedy troupe, The Weisenheimers, are scheduled to play a gig at the Denver International Improv Festival. But now I can't afford the plane ticket that was going to take me there, and I'm not really hot on the idea of spending any more time on the road. I haven't told Monty yet... but I'm guessing he'll be ripshit over it. I can't blame him. We'll weather it. What are they going to do, find another guitarist? (I hope not)

4) This conversation pretty much sums it up. Chris: Mom's Halloween party will be on the 28th this year. Me: Oh, right after my mom's birthday. Shit, I have to get her something nice this year since she's losing her mind being trapped in Tennessee. Gah... I can't believe it's Halloween already. Chris: I know. And you know what that means. Me: Please don't say it. I know. Once you see the Halloween candy, it's a fucking hop, skip and a jump to Christmas. Ugh. Time goes so much faster than it used to.

On top of this I'm trying to remain faithful to the gym. Thank you to everyone who has said something encouraging about me looking like less of a lardass recently. I really do appreciate it. And, although I haven't heard anything else about it, apparently I'll be playing guitar in the McCune Family Band for some rockin' private XMAS shows. This is funny for many reasons, not the least of which are I'm not a McCune and as a lead guitarist I'm marginal at best.

...and my parents are still planning on moving back, although we have no idea when.

...and I'm selling stuff on Craigslist, which is only posing a problem in that I'm getting calls from some strange people who are less interested in what I'm selling than in just talking to me for a while on the phone because they're lonely.

...and when I do manage to eek out a free minute of the day I tend to waste it on web surfing and onanism rather than getting shit done, like updating my blog.

So that's what's been up. If I can spare the scannin' time this weekend I should have another hilarious retro post for y'all. Going back to '82, yo.

In the meantime, hugs and kisses (with tongue if you prefer),
Huzzah

(There's a bug in Rapidweaver that changes image sizes on the fly. I was about 25% into this piece when an errant mistype on my part triggered the bug and I lost everything. I've just finished shouting "fuck-fuck-fuck" over and over again and am now ready to try and re-type from memory everything I've already written. Dammit. Okay, here we go)

After the unprecedented response (2 comments!) to my last retro magazine post about Omaha (see below), I thought it wise to return to the well and mine some comedy from the stylistic foibles of an Omaha era gone by. This time, it's an Omaha Magazine from July 1981. I found this rummaging through piles of musty crap in the basement of an antique shop downtown. I picked it up and flipped right to a page with someone I know well on it. Karma? Kismet? An unexplained occurrence the likes of which you'd hear about in those old commercials for the Time Life Mysteries of the Unexplained book series? No, probably just a coincidence.

As the Black Eyed Peas said, let's get it started. (Although in the original version they said let's get retarded, but that's probably applicable here as well):



Omaha: When the Living is Easy

It's pretty disingenuous to represent Omaha as an antebellum plantation kind of town. It is not now, nor was it ever, some syrupy southern locale. The girl on the front, pretty though she is, has on 1981-appropriate amounts of "Muriel Hemingway" applied makeup and is sporting an off-the-shoulder number that would befit Naomi from Mama's Family.

Unfortunately, Omaha Magazine was and is one of the most bone-dry boring publications in existence. So there isn't much content, but I dug for just the high points. Let's dig in, shalle we?



Quite a rogues gallery we have here. Back before Omaha had ACTION! News 3 there was Action News 6. Which news was more action-ey? Well, while the current 3 may be louder, there were actual journalists and newsy news-folk at 6. On here you have Gary Kerr (top left), a titan of Omaha news product of the 80's. Next to Gary is Tom Bevaqua,er.. Byron Wood, who was also around forever. Below Tom Byron is Dale Munson. Dale Munson was the man! He didn't just give you the weather, he made you FEEL it. Third down on the left is Dave Webber, who still rocks it with sports here in Omaha. Directly to Dave's right is Peter Citron. The less said about him, the better. He had some "issues" that sent him away for a while. We'll leave it at that. (But feel free to Google)

I honestly can't remember any of these other people, although I'm sure they were swell.

UPDATE: Thanks to Bub-G in the comments who jogged my addled memory and reminded me that the fella at top right is perennial Omaha favorite Byron Wood, and not the lovable Tom Bevaqua.



Most of the content on this page is meaningless, but I would like to focus on the cartoon. You see, back in the day people used to "cruise" Dodge street. I need to mention up front that the cruising they did wasn't like the cruising that Larry Craig was doing in the Minneapolis airport men's room. This was done in cars and sex was only loosely connected to the activity. The youngsters who were looking for a place to go were at constant odds with Omaha, which never offered them a place to go. So they'd take their cars, some hot rods and most shitboxes, and cruise Dodge street primarily in front of the then-relevant Crossroads Mall. It was a social event. For the most part it was peaceful, although some of the business owners complained, as they always do. So the city of Omaha passed a "cruising ordinance." No shit. Like some kind of crazy foreign government, Omaha enacted a driving law that would allow Omaha police to ticket you for driving between 72nd and 84th on Dodge more than once per hour between 6pm and 6am. I was pretty young when that happened and I remember even then thinking how lame that law is and how much it will suck for pizza delivery guys. I believe the ordinance still stands, even though now kids just go get meth in Plattsmouth.



This was the first page I flipped to when I picked up this magazine. The guy in the middle, Don Quixote in a Members Only aviator shirt and yellow slacks? That's Paul Tranisi. I know him, although I didn't back in '81. I didn't have too many college friends when I was 7 years old. I later found out that local writer and woman about town Leslie Prisbell was also in this production. Or at least she thought she was. Small world? More like small town.

Also a word of warning. If you're attempting to grow a mustache like the gentleman on the right in this picture and it's filling in as such. Please stop. You look ridiculous. There's a kid at my gym who has had six hairs he's been cultivating 'neath his nose for a year now and they don't even looks as good as this guy's! So please, fellas. If you're not genetically predisposed to facial scruff then please nix it. I implore you.



I only scanned this in because R.B. Flynn looks like a man in 1981 should. Look at that suit, those wingtips, the hardcore 'stache. This man means business. You can easily imagine him speaking in the dulcet tones of James Earl Jones and closing business deals. This man is the shit and you only wish you could be this cool. Keep dreamin' Romeo.

Now the magic happens:



The fashion spread for Omaha Mag has always been pretty dubious. Omaha is not Milan, it's not New York and it's not L.A. It simply will most likely never be a center of the fashion industry, and that's okay. But still we try to portray ourselves as fashion forward. I've always been a little perplexed by this, because even back in '81 there were fashion magazines that did this job perfectly well. But some Omaha publications still insist on showing current fashion trends from an "Omaha" perspective. So here they are.

This particular look isn't actually all that terrible at first glance. The gigantic pant floats in and out of acceptable couture and one may be able to pull it off today if accessorized correctly. They bunch a little high on the waist and the top is timeless if extremely unflattering to the bust-line.

Do I sound like I know what I'm talking about? I'm just aping things I've heard on What Not To Wear. Regardless, this four-page spread is mostly a tribute to very soft focus. Like Zapruder film - "look there's bigfoot" - quality focus.



The top photo proves that the little black dress isn't timeless when paired with a fucking insane hairstyle. "Please give me a poofy mushroom head" must've been the request to the stylist. In the photo below the women look just a little too plain to be Bond villain ladies. More like "business-attire Mata Hari and Carmen SanDiego go to the piano bar" thing happening there.



It is so hard for me to imagine that this picture could give a guy a boner, yet that seems to be what they're aiming for. It's got kind of a Harlequin romance novel cover vibe. Like "she stared longingly out the window trying to discern the shapes and colors. After hours of this she realized the window was of stained glass and therefore too opaque to see through. Her heaving breast fluttered beneath the wide collar ruffle of her rose-red señorita dress..."

There's a very come-hither "let's do it on this uncomfortable piece of furniture" feeling she gives off.



Finally, there's the tea party dream sequence. A young Mia Farrow and a young Yoko Ono discuss their ugly clothes over tea. Oh, by the way dear photographer, it's pretty evident that those cups are empty.

The photo beneath has another menacing come-hither glance. She wants it... right here... in front of this mirror. Why? Who knows?



A full page ad for Plant Interiors by Greener Times. Ah, the 80's, back when ugly tangled vines constituted decor. But buyer beware, if you don't adequately water your plants, the bearded hawaiian-shirt gnome will come in the night with his yellow watering can and do it for you. Then he will torment your dreams and steal your soul.

You've been warned.

2 locations in 1981.

In 2007, 1 location. Astonishingly their Council Bluffs location is still there. Go fig.



Ah, the Food Section.

Making food photography appetizing is a risky business to be sure, but it doesn't help that all these recipes call for paté in one form or another. That big loaf in the center surrounded by the tiny pickles? That's made of chicken, ham, paté and other ingredients that when combined are too foul to mention. Suffice to say if you whipped that out at a picnic people would politely suggest you pick up a bucket of chicken next time.

Also, isn't Packing a Slicker Wicker a term for a sex act performed on a papasan chair while wearing a raincoat?



Who doesn't miss the days when headlines could be unabashedly vaguely racist? Those were the days.

Sure, this food looks pretty foul, but then again how good is Chinese food from Council Bluffs going to be?

Then you see this:



DId somebody order a plate of barf on rice noodles? Apparently. Kind of a chop suey kablooey right there. Ugh.

Do not want.

And now it's time to play "Which businesses survived?"



Ah, the New Tower Inn. Big in the 60's, big in the 80's, GONE in the 2000's. But at least now there's an empty former CompUSA for everyone to look at.

Tico's: Gone from Omaha, still alive in Lincoln. Worth the 45 minute drive? Prolly not.

The Blue Fox: That would be where the Absolutely Fresh Seafood and Miic's Karaoke Bar are sitting today. Across from Big Fred's Pizza, which is one of the 20-some-odd Pizzarias in the greater Omaha area I would heartily recommend.

Chu's Chop Suey: Gone, gone, gone. It was still there up until about 2-3 years ago. Had a great sign and really looked like a kitchy eatery in its prime. The Dougas County Health Department consistently rated this place a D+ or C-...and in Douglas Co. you do not want to eat at anything below a B.

Churchill's: Gone! In Regency Fashion Court, which was relatively new in 1981. It was the fancy rich-people mall of its day. It still tries to hang onto that distinction by housing Borsheim's (Warren Buffet's Tiffany & Co. of the midwest), Parsow's ugly rich guy clothing store and Omaha's only Pottery Barn. There were some great eateries in Regency back in the day. Kiki's Crab House and diCoppia. Now there's a Kobe teppenyaki grill where they make onion volcanos and flip shrimp in your mouth. Good for kitch, okay for food. You will leave hungry and broke.

Cliffs: Gone. Possibly where Fernando's Mexican is, or very near the Green Onion which is a popular bar for fans of absurdly strong mixed drinks served in a trashy after-work meat markety vibe. Not a personal fave. Maybe people didn't go to Cliff's because that ad seems to convey that they serve raw half chickens directly on your plate. It looks like a science project. Seriously. Scroll back up and look, it's horrifying.

A side note: The next page had an ad for King Fongs, which was mentioned in the previous post. It may be one of the oldest single location businesses in all of Omaha.

This finally brings us to the back cover:



Man, the 80's were ALL ABOUT hot air balloons. Hot air balloons and rainbows are sprinkled over every memory I have from the decade of greed and cable TV.

That's all for now. Another big weekend post of love.

PS: Thanks to all the folks who came out and saw the Weisenheimers this weekend. And to everyone who came on Saturday, bonus points for being one of the 20 people not watching USC kick the Husker's ass on TV.

My love to most of you, you know who you are.
Huzzah.

No big post, but I was just hit by an idea that needed to be recorded.

Okay, so Nebraska is desperately in need of some 'zazz. Since we've lost our state slogan, "The Good Life," to a shitty indie band perhaps what we need is a hip new slogan to throw around.

So I thought about the elements of Nebraska.

We're a state of people very set in their ways. Stubborn, cranky and determined. In fact, you could say that we're Persistent.

And we're one of the few states that still has a largely agricultural economic base. We're very reliant on corn and other Vegetables.

And since the mid-1870's we've been an independent entity. (At least after we shooed all the Native Americans off the land). We are our very own State.

So that brought me to:

Nebraska: The Persistent Vegetative State!

Mull it over. Let it roll around in your mind for a while and savor the rich aroma.

Nebraskans, you're welcome.
Huzzah.

For those of you in Omaha you already know that the last few days have been the first sincere "feels like autumn" days of the year. You can feel it in the air. I'm trying not to be all wistful about it, but autumn does something to me aside from encouraging the consumption of heavy turkey dinners (although it does indeed have that effect). It's hard to articulate. Something about the leaves turning, the dampness, the chance to break out my comfy red hoodie. It's the mixed blessings of a Nebraska autumn upon us. I'll try to keep this shit to myself. Must... fight... the autumn... gloom.

The Weisenheimers are making another triumphant return to the Omaha area. This very weekend you can see me and the boys 'heimer-ing it up Weisen-style at the Pizza Shoppe. Here's the animated gif banner I spent entirely too long putting together for how cheesy it looks:

Hopefully we'll see you there.

As you can read in the post below, Movie Night has been postponed. But as Ba'al as my witness there will be another Movie Night before the end of 2007!

I did the third DC Blitz (thus far) this morning on Pat & JT. The response wasn't nearly as rousing as previous editions. I blame myself for writing the commentary more pointed and less punch-line driven. Oh well, you can't win 'em all. I knew it was a gamble when I took my lefty ways to the radio in Omaha. We'll see if this is my undoing. Worst case scenario I get to sleep in a little on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays. You can listen to the awkward silence on their podcast, although I'm just assuming the Blitz made it on today's best of. Maybe not. Ouch. Apparently I'm losing political capital. I'm starting to doubt the worth of me doing this. At least you can hear Matt's a capella Huskers song.

I did find a fun site for everyone. The fashionable lady below is from the social experiment vlog site "I Hate Young People"

We'll see you on the stage, kids.
Huzzah

Since I've had to postpone Movie Night due to being insanely busy, I thought it would be nice if I could de-personalize and virtualize the Movie Night experience.

Well it turns out I can. It just means watching the movie all alone. Unfortunately, without the running commentary this is pretty dry. So you'll have to insert your own wacky asides.

And for those of you unaware of what Movie Night is, here's the nutshell history: Back in college I would invite loads of people to my dorm room on Thursday nights and we would watch crappy movies until the wee hours. Frequently a triple-feature, we usually did a mix of blacksploitation, 80's teen boob-comedies and weak attempts at "serious dramatic cinema" all the while wisecracking at the screen. Biting on MST3K style? Sure. But it was fun, so ease up there Mr. or Mrs. Judgemental. It was fun and brilliant and ridiculous. A few years later I resurrected the event and have been holding them sporadically in the backyard broadcast on a sheet in front of the garage. Stupid fun is what it's all about. That, and the appreciation of crap cinema.

So here's a little virtual movie night action for you all. It's the touching story of an automobile learners permit told in first person by the permit. Why not? General Motors made this back before all their cars were pretty much complete shit, so that is to say before 1982.

Update: I just found out that the Prelinger Archive embedding isn't working, so you can watch the permit movie here. Instead I'll post the horrifying Singnal 30 drivers ed movie that contains a shocking amount of "Faces of Death" style footage of real - actual - dead bodies throughout. It's pretty gruesome by 1959 standards. You've been warned. My apologies.

Enjoy.



Oh, and P.S. Keep an eye on the Movie Night page for the reschedule of the event. We may do the first ever pre-halloween not-so-scary scary movie night.

Oh Britney... oh oh oh Britney.

(LOLBrit by me. Please don't hotlink and suck up all my bandwidth)

Some may accuse me of biting on James Lileks' style, but I've been hanging on to this "This Week in Omaha" official hotel greeter and convention guide for a while. I can't remember if I ran across it going through some old family stuff or if I found it in a junk shop downtown, but nonetheless I've been fascinated with it since I first laid hands on it. It was a bi-weekly publication and this edition is for the first two weeks of December, 1963.

What could possibly have been going on in Omaha in 1963? I mean, that was almost 45 years ago. Nearly half a century. Certainly this was a sleepy little cowtown back then, right? I mean, people complain now about how there's not much to do, so things must've been much worse back then.

Not so, apparently. Once upon a time this bucolic chunk of sleepy suburban flyover was a hotbed of activity. A city bustling with a swinging pre-summer of love 1960's "Frankie and Dean-o" sensibility. At least that's how one would perceive it from the ads. Let's start with my favorite page.

A recurring theme throughout this magazine is how most of the businesses advertised are long gone. Not just gone but torn down for strip malls that have been torn down to make uglier strip malls. It's amazing how true the old canard is about Americans having no sense of history. We're pretty quick on the draw when it comes to tearing down a neat funky old building so we don't have to be more than a quarter mile from a Maggie Moo's at any given time. But I digress.

Do you doubt, for even a millisecond, that Cliff Winehill is the King of the Comics? With that hat and cigar you would be a fool to contradict him. Man, Pee-Dee's must've been one hopping place. They had King Cliff with his comic shtick, the Enchanting Marie Miskura, who you know was a sultry asian vamp that played up her exotic look to the hilt, and then you can dance with the "exciting" Russ Long Combo. I can't think of a single venue locally (that isn't attached to a riverboat casino) that offers that much entertainment on any single given night. I'd tell you what is standing where Pee-Dee's is no longer, but the address of "1.5 miles east of the South Omaha Bridge" is a tad vague. If they mean east across the bridge then the only structure out that way is a biker bar/strip club that is so scary you can almost picture Pee Wee Herman dancing the "Tequila" to the delight of bikers straight out of central casting. If that was Pee-Dee's then Miss Misakura may still be there. But you may not enjoy her current show.

Harry's Key Club, accessable from both sides of the Wellington Hotel. Both gone gone gone. I don't know what precisely is there now. But I know it isn't a swanky hotel.

Il Sorrento is now a parking lot for Omaha World-Herald employees. Although I'm pretty sure it hung on at least into the 80's. I think I remember it. So it had a comparably good run. The Crest and it's Piano Lounge, the Bird Cage (not to be confused with the Robin Williams/Nathan Lane remake of La Cage Aux Folles) are now a strip mall with a World Market. That was a very swinging area in 1963. It's in the Indian Hills area, which is pretty much the only place in Omaha you'll find any daring mid-century architecture. The Crest had fortuitous placement on the page next to The New Tower Inn, since it was pretty much right next door in what is now a closed former CompUSA. The basketball scenes in To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything Julie Newmar were filmed in the parking lot there as well as the pool scene interiors were shot in the kitchy island-themed enclosed pool. Lots of good memories of the funky old New Tower. Of course, I'm much too young to have seen Connie Collins and the Lazy Leopard trio there. But my God, how I would have loved to.

A side note: Even though it says "Dancing except Sunday" I don't think there was a law against it. Omaha had and has some blue laws, but we're not the town from Footloose.

The Paxton is currently undergoing a renaissance of sorts. It was a very upscale hotel when it was built back at the turn of the century (the one before last), then it downgraded a bit. It picked back up as a swinging joint in the 60's, as made evidence by the famous Pax Room swinging to the sounds of the Chuck Sutton Combo. At some point the Paxton became a really depressing urine-soaked home for elderly, indigent and unwanted people. Depressing? You bet! And where there's depression, there's someone to kick you when you're down. Those doing the kicking were some investors who saw the amazing as-of-yet-unburst condo bubble emerging in Omaha. They bought the Paxton, evicting pretty much everybody in what had to have been a job for a real sadistic dick, and they've spent the last year and a half gutting it, renovating it, and now they're selling condo units in it at prices that seem nothing short of hilarious. As you can see from the views inside and of the model, the lobby will be replete with Le Corbusier chairs and a grand piano, and the units themselves will be depressingly boring.

Ross' Steakhouse was a standing fixture throughout my youth. It was one of two favorite restaurants I never went to. They were one of my favorites because they had a GIGANTIC steer head on the outside attached to the sign. I mean mammoth. Hilariously so. (My other favorite was Anthony's Steakhouse because they had a whole huge steer standing on the roof.)

What I really love about this ad is that it refers to 72nd street as "The Strip." Which it probably actually was in 1963. According to this magazine there were bunches of swinging dining and dancing nightspots up and down 72nd from Center Street north to Blondo. These days "The Strip" still has a few restaurants, but it's hardly swinging. The restaurants are separated not with drinking and dancing hotspots, but with a Petco, a Battery Patrol, and the Furniture Mart. Try to contain your excitement. Mr. and Mrs. Ross were not only renowned for their hospitality, they were "Renowned for Hospitality" signaling the usage of unironic finger quotes. Dig it.

Look at that dashing young Liberace wannabe. He's not just a pianist, he's a damned "FIREBRAND" is what he is. Caution ladies (and probably more gentlemen I suspect), Ronnie Orland will debonair your panties right off. The tux, the flat top, the unfiltered cigarette. He's too hip for most rooms, but not the Cottonwood Room at the Hotel Blackstone. The Blackstone, which is still standing, is also allegedly where the Reuben sandwich was invented. And the hotel still stands, sort of. It's mostly corporate offices now with a PostMax or PrintMax or some other imitation Kinko's on the ground floor.

Peony Park, however I could write volumes about. What was in the 1960's was an elegant ballroom and popular swimming hole of the local youngsters became in the 70's and 80's a fun miniature theme park/waterpark with some kickass rides (the Black Hole, anyone?) including a decent small roller coaster. Nowadays it's Hy Vee grocery store, a Fazoli's and a Keno Hall, none of which could be described as "elegant".

This is by far my favorite print ad of all time. It's that good, I say. It makes me want to don a sportcoat and head to the Sparetime for a Hi-Hatter lunch, whatever the hell that is. Are hats involved with the consumption of the food? Who knows, but I assure you it's a swingin' good lunch. You'll note that this place is also on the "strip". Well, on the site of what was allegedly Omaha's most popular restaurant is now a strip mall with an H&R Block, a pretty decent Vietnamese restaurant and a Trek bike shop. Clearly it wasn't all that popular. Man, that combo looks hot, though. And that ad, modular filigree hip with a touch of swirly zing. It makes me pop a design-boner.

Surely you remember the Esquires. Why, they were Omaha's Finest Band. The Peppermint Cave, which sounds like a sex act involving a candy cane, was talked about all over Omaha according to the ad. I imagine the conversation went like this:

#1: Hey, I went to the Peppermint Cave last night.

#2: Really?

#1: Yeah, it was a real hum-dinger of a good time, to boot. Rolonda got a new dress for the occasion, and guess what... it had fringe!

#2: You lucky dog. Fringe, you say? Man alive. (pause) Did you give her the "high hard one"?

#1: Oh yeah, she's a whore. She took it in every hole more than once. I invited a few of the fellas from the club to join me in running a train up on that. Boo-yah.

Or something like that. Maybe not. Either way, I'm astonished that they charged for parking in 1963, as it is inferred at the bottom of the ad. Aside from the parking meters NOBODY pays to park in Omaha. What is this, Los Angeles? Not hardly. Get real, man. It claims to be in the Hill Hotel, which if it's the same structure, is now an apartment building a block south of the Orpheum.

Marchio's? Who knows. It ain't there anymore, that's for sure.

Johnny's Cafe, astonishingly still there and like a trip back in time when you walk in the door. I recommend it, if for no other reason the atmosphere. That ad suffers from the worst slogan in advertising history, though. "Our friends say: 'I never left here - that I wasn't glad I came here.'" How do you beat a ringing endorsement like that? It screams "Our restaurant is best enjoyed in hindsight!"

King Fong's still there! My mom's favorite place for asian cuisine. The place has been there since the 30's and is amazingly still in business. Beautiful, if worn down, interior. The food? Eh. I plead the fifth for my mother's sake.

El Charro not there. I think it's where Joe Tess' grody Carp restaurant is now. Seafood in Omaha is a dicey proposition on a good day. Better now with fed ex'ed fish from the coast overnight, but still a shaky concept. No offense to Joe Tess.

Gorat's is not only still there, it's probably the only business listed in this magazine that still does a BOOMING business. It doesn't hurt that resident brazillianaire (and my neighbor BTW) Warren Buffet takes all his top Berkshire Hathaway muckity mucks there for a snack during the annual stockholders meeting. The restaurant could probably survive the year based on that one night. When Warren steps down, what will be the fate of Gorat's? Who knows? If you go there on any of the other 364 days of the year the place is heaven's waiting room. The median age of the average Gorat's diner is "deceased". That said, my dad was a busboy there in the early 60's. He claims that he and his troublemaker friends would lob pats of butter into the lighting valances that still hang there to this day. Quite likely there is still some fossilized butter pat cardboard in the lights. There's certainly some fossilized diners at the tables. Zing!

A side note: They accept Carte Blanche, which I assumed was just a saying, but apparently actually existed. Can someone confirm or deny this?

Can you imagine a world where Village Inn was fine dining? Yeah, me either. But there you have it. Still standing to this day I've had many a late night skillet in this very Village Inn but it has never in my memory looked this nice. It's hard to tell from the darkness of the picture and the low quality of my scan but the chairs are a padded imitation Eames-era molded plywood that are actually kind of classy. Each table is festooned with six, count 'em SIX different syrups for your pancake from around the globe. And they long ago removed the luxurious padding from the back wall separating the kitchen and replaced it with standard VI wallpaper and ugly hotel art. These days you are more likely to see Tranny hookers trying to come down of a meth bender and other midtown hipsters enjoying late night omelets with friends rather than folks dressed up for a night of hot-footing it at a jazzy nightspot. I will try to recreate this pic the next time I'm at this VI and I'll post it here as an update.

As far as Domenico's... well, it looks to be a grocery store. However, I don't get to that part of town too often. There's no phone number for it.

And finally we're at the back cover. There's a whole heap of mixed messages in this ad. I think it's probably because they're asking too many damned questions.

Dining Out?
Why, yes.

Casual?
Okay.

Dress Up?
Um... I thought you said casual, but sure.

Desire Good Food?
Well, yes. If I wanted bad food I'd stay at home and open a can of Alpo.

Fresh Pastries?
Only if they're from your own bake shop, but according to your parenthesis they are, so yes.

Care for Cantonese Food?
Well, yes. But if I want Cantonese food then why am I going to the Hawaian Room? Shouldn't I be having Polynesian food? I'm no world traveler, but I'm pretty sure that Canton is in the Guangzhou province of China which is pretty damned far from Hawaii. Far enough that Google Maps doesn't offer driving directions from Guangzhou to Honolulu.

So what am I getting when I step in the door? Dim Sum and a tea ceremony or Poi, Coconut Shrimp and a Mai Tai? Help me out here people.

And what the hell is the name of this place anyway? The Town House? The PROM Town House? Is the Hawaian Room a part of it? What's going on here?
I'll tell you what's going on there now, an Office Max. Or possibly a 4-unit strip mall with a Jason's Deli, a 2nd Wind used sporting goods store and a Game Stop. The world of today may never know what the Town House was. But how much of a loss could that possibly be since they didn't seem to know what they were at the time.

That's it, kiddies. The high points of the 1963 magazine that welcomed folks to my fair city over a decade before I was born.

These days we have our bar scene, sure. There's some decent clubs, but nothing like you see in here. By what I can tell from reading this there were more Omaha nightspots open to 2 a.m. in 1963 than there are today, by a longshot. Is it a good thing or a bad thing? Who can say? But you'll have to pardon me for being wistful for a time that probably didn't exist as I imagine it or as it appears here.

Huzzah.

Hey!

Hey you!

Yeah, you. The guy with the iPhone...

The one complaining about how they dropped the price. You are a douche.

What's that? You want to know why you're a douche? Allow me to explain.

You didn't seem to have a problem with initially spending $600 on your 8GB iPhone. At the time, you were willing to even stand in line at your local AT&T Wireless store for hours on end chatting with other early adopters who were ecstatic about this paradigm-changing device. CNET, David Pogue at the New York Times and scores of other tech reviewers -- Apple Inc. lovers and haters alike -- all said that the phone was pricey but ultimately worth it. So you bought it.

Apple, being a technology company, has to deal with a lot of variables when creating their devices and platforms. The costs of labor, equipment, shipping, and the invariable "lemons" that roll off of any production line from Bentley GT Coupes to the ugly Croc footwear that fat, lazy and indigent people can't seem to get enough of. Those variables are constantly changing. And sometimes when you introduce a completely new type of device on the market, you NEED to move units to make the platform thrive. The more devices in