Just saw this article in the NYT online. Turner Classic is running a series on Product Placement in the movies- turns out it dates back to the 1930's.

link to article

Still have not "broken ground" on the puppets of Puppetland...we are finally shopping for materials, and low and behold, fabrics we found the first week of January and they finally approved the 3rd week of February, no longer available.

Driving around today, the amount of car debris strewn by the side of the freeway is rather creepy. I'm not sure if it has to do with the cleanup crews having bigger fish to fry keeping storm drains unclogged and removing mud and dirt from blocking the road, or if there have been that many more accidents. From the left lane, it was bumper piece after headlamp after more bumper pieces, with a little glass thrown in for good measure.

I also saw another stick figure rear window family. This one had a Dad, Mom, three daughters in decending order, and a little son. And a turtle.

Why am being referred to as "middle aged" all of a sudden? My mother wanted to send me a book about being middle aged, and a guy I did comedy with in college said we were "both middle aged." I'm 35, for chrissakes! I may remember Watergate, but it is because I couldn't watch Sesame Street. I moisturize twice a day with some kind of magic potion that is probably made out of horse fetus, eat oatmeal, don't smoke and do yoga.

Alright, I may complain about those kids and their rock and roll music, and I may refuse to wear all of those 80's clothes that look like 7th grade to me, but doesn't middle age start at 40? Or when you give up the fight against gravity? I don't think 35 has been middle aged since the Johnson Administration, when you got married at 20, and you had three kids, a mortgage and an affair with your neighbor by the time you were 35.

You know, Erma Bombeck's 35, not Brigitte Jones' 35. We're going to live to our mid 80's, that's why we have to overhual Social Security, right?

I do not go gently into this dark night.

Puppetland dish...
The very nice retarded guy who hangs around the shop keeping us up to date with Dr. Demento trivia, Star Trek and Dungeons and Dragons (not to discredit those interests, but more to illustrate that he is pretty smart for a guy with Down Syndrome and paint a picture of who he is) He LOVED LOVED LOVED the Art Director's Space Photo Board. He thought it was the coolest thing he had seen in a long time. Frank and I decided that it just proves our point, and that we will give it to him as a gift at the end of the show. I know he will get much joy out of it for years to come.

I found the pirated software that got lost in the move. I can now make labels. My relationship with the computer just took a step closer to buttercups and rainbows.

I deleted the previous post. The one with the crazed rantings in the middle of the night about return address labels. Either you saw it or you didn't.

As my pal Collin over at Fizzle and Pop has been waxing nostalgic over food from his childhood, I have as well. Steve and I are planning on tying the knot this summer with a little picnic, and I thought it might be fun to have Hoodsie Cups along with wedding cake for dessert. Hood is one of the bigger dairies in New England, though I bet your local dairy had them, no matter where you are from.

They are little paper cups of 1/2 vanilla 1/2 chocolate ice cream, with a little paper lid. You ate the ice cream with a little wooden paddle. They are so adorable, I'm surpised that whore Hello Kitty doesn't have them, though it's been a while since I've been to a Mitsuwa Market. She just might.

I emailed Hood, and unfortunately, the Answer Mom told me that they are not available in California.

I did however, find out that there is/will be soon a Carvel in Goleta. Cookie Puss, anyone?

More Puppetland dish-

Thursday we get a "color pallette" from the Art Director. It is a bunch of outer space photos cut out of OMNI and National Geographic Magazine, mounted on foam core. It would get you a B+ as the first week assignment of Scenic Design 101. So I drag out the Pantone chip book and do the second week assignment. I pick the 40 colors that jump at me, arrange them in color families, and mount them on a presentation board, with a nice show logo in the corner. It doesn't really tell us what color each puppet should be, but at least puts us on the road of what they might be thinking. Thinking for the set, lights, costumes and/or puppets we have no idea, but it is apparent that mint greens and rich blues will be somewhere. Somewhere.

Late Friday afternoon the client shows up. The presentation hasn't started yet and I'm the only one from our team in the back of the room. Up in the front Art Director says to Grand Poobah that he did the Pantone board for us. She loves it. I can't say anything, but if the lasers that usually shoot out of my eyes had been working that day, his head would have been vaporized.

Meeting lasted three hours, but by the end we actually know what color everything should be. We should not have had to beg them, or sit in on the "Creation of the Vision." If they knew what they were doing this crap would have been sorted out months ago. But it is their money, and I get paid by the hour. Nice touch-at the end, Asst. Grand Poobah came over and acknowledged that they all knew Art Director lied about the boards, and it didn't go unnoticed.

okay, okay, I know you all probably read www.boingboing.com, but if you don't, check this out.

A nursing home in Australia has been working on a big group knitting project creating an entire 1950's style room, and everything in it is knitted and crocheted. It is the cutest thing I have ever seen, at least since I saw that Hello Kitty sushi a few weeks ago.

I love Crafts that actually become Art.

We are still fighting the good fight in Puppetland. Officially, we have not started to build anything. The producers are cutting animals out of the Garden of Eden to cut the budget, and they still cannot get the director/grand poobah to pick something as basic as a color pallette for the show. The show that opens the beginning of June. If you can't make simple design choices (or trust in your assistants) why would you possibly take on the gargantuan task of a 1 1/2 hour spectacle stage show with singing, aerialists, dancers, giant puppets, SFX lights and who knows what else?

I MC'ed another fashion show this past Sunday for my friend Simone who has a custom corsetry company, Exquisite Restraint. I love hosting for Simone because I get to use my Gibson Girl figure and sassy improv mouth at the same glamorous time. And wear false eyelashes. The events are always interesting, to say the least, and this one took the cake.

The fashion show was the featured entertainment at a TG Tea Party. This means it was a Tea Party for Ladies. Men who dress as Ladies. They ranged from fabulous drag queens to "Time to Make the Donuts." I think it was just another event of what appears to have been whirlwind weekend of TransGendered events all over LA. I can only imagine what Hollywood Blvd was like this past Saturday night. They had a lovely table of tea and cakes, served by "french maids." Different vendors (including Simone) had booths set up to provide products of interest to the TG community. I was pleasantly surprised to see the corporate presence of The Body Shop, that had a whole room devoted to their products and were providing manicures and pedicures.

Here is a photo of myself with the models. My assigned character for the afternoon was "Sexy School Marm." I think I hit the mark.

A couple of new video games have come into our lives, courtesy of Gus. My favorites are Karaoke Revolution, which is what it sounds like, a "Dance Dance Revolution" but with singing. It is horrible and so wonderful at the same time.

The other is my favorite game since Tetris. It is called Katamari. The graphics are a cross between Hello Kitty and Yellow Submarine, and the music is all trance, techno and jazzy. You are this cute little green prince (who could be Hello Kitty's boyfriend) and you push a ball around on the floor and pick up stuff to make the ball bigger. When your garbage ball gets big enough, The King puts it up into space as a star and gives it a cute name like Bratty Star. If your ball is not big enough by the end of your time, The King is disappointed in you and scolds you, but in the end offers encouragement. Every time you start fresh, with praise and promise. No wonder Japanese kids do well in school with all of this positive reinforcement.

Collin over at Fizzle and Pop has enhanced a paper cutout for you to print out and make at home of the Prince. (blog entry 1/31/05)