Attention POGO fans! Click the image fo’ de tails!
One of the best comic strips ever. God bless Walt Kelly.
Category: Retro & Vintage
Saturday Matinee: Uncle Pen, Randy Lynne Rag, Dooley, Steam Powered Aeroplane
Bluegrass has its roots in northern Britain according to my ear. The chord patterns of early country music from Appalachia follow those of Scottish and Irish reels. In the immigration wave of the early 1800’s, the Scottish and Irish tended to venture southward, away from the constrictions of the north, to where they could work their own land. No wonder that early southern recordings sound similar to those of Ireland and Scotland.
Bill Monroe & his Bluegrass Boys popularized it and gave the style it’s moniker: Bluegrass. This song (video from 1956) is a tribute to Pendleton Vandiver, Monroe’s uncle. Monroe joined his uncle Pen’s band as a kid; his sound dates back to the turn of the century.
Lester Flatt & Earl Scruggs put Bluegrass on the popular map as pickin’ speed demons.
The Dillards were the Darlings clan on the Andy Griffith show. The Dillards decided that L.A. had more to offer than the Missouri Ozarks, and advertised themselves on the streets in the early 1960’s.
The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band were influenced by the Dillards, and took Jerry Jeff Walker’s “Mr. BoJangles” for a ride.
What I was really looking for when all this linkyness began was New Grass Revival‘s version of “Steam Powered Aeroplane,” one of the prettiest bluegrass songs I ever heard:
"Well I went away on a Steam Powered Aeroplane. Well I went and I stayed and damn near didn't come back again. Didn't go very fast on a steam powered aeroplane, The wheels went around, up and down, and inside and then back again. Sittin' on a 747 just watching them clouds roll by, Can't tell if it's sunshine, if it's rain. Rather be sittin' in a deck chair high up over Kansas City, On a genuine old fashioned oil finish Steam Powered Aeroplane. Well I'd could be PILOT on the Steam Powered Aeroplane. I'd pull that pilot wheel 'round, then back again. And I'd wear a blue hat, YEAH, on the Steam Powered Aeroplane, With letters go 'round the brim and then back again. Sittin' on a 747 just watching them clouds roll by, Can't tell if it's sunshine or if it's rain. Rather be sittin' in a deck chair high up over Kansas City, On a genuine old fashioned oil finish Steam Powered Aeroplane."
Here’s the songwriter, John Hartford, with Tony Rice, Vassar Clements and others. (Yeah, his vocals don’t do justice for the song.)
Great pre-sunrise morning roadtrip music, just like Pat Metheny’s “New Chataqua Highway,” or anything by Django Reinhardt and Stephan Grappelli.
[Bunk’s compiling his roadtrip list for next month. Lemme know your favorites.]
“Obamadoowop-Obamadoowop-Obamadoowop-DooWah”
“I’ve met Norman Fox & the Rob Roys, and I can tell you that Barrack Obama is no Norman Fox.”
–Senator Lloyd Benson, 1896.
Saturday Matinee: Aluminum Baseball Bat, Let’s Go Together & Big Ugly Wheels
There’s just something not quite right with “The Howlies” but they have a Southeast Asian Fan Club based in Saigon/Ho Chi Minh City to give them some credibility. With some polish, this coulda been a great video, but it’s just unpolished enough to be kinda scary, and the little wolfie hats don’t help. (Bunky likes it, but not as much as this.)
Mickey Rooney rocks out with Dorothy…
The Beat Farmers‘ “Big Ugly Wheels” featuring the late great Country Dick Montana. (This one’s for Aussie Phil.)
If that one doesn’t play, here’s their excellent version of Neil Young’s “Powderfinger.”
Babe Magnet del Pinto Viento
Whoa! This Monster Magoo automatically qualifies as a genuine Babe Magnet if only because its owner photographed it from dog-eye level and printed it in B&W just to keep the yellow snow in check.
Good God, I’m drooling over this one… way too many places to begin, so let’s start here.
IT’S A PINTO!
But wait, there’s more! It’s a dark color, prolly navy blue, with flames erupting from the wrong end of this rolling molotov cocktail. The Ford Pinto was designed to be, and was, a real carp car, until GMC AMC beat Ford to the bottom with the Gremlin. At least the Gremlin didn’t spray atomized gasoline all over the neighborhood when it was rear-ended by that little s.o.b. Bobby Bieber on his Honda 50.
In order to enhance the Pinto’s reputation as a rolling flamethrower, Earl “Tom” Slick jacked it up to make sure that ANY rear end collision would hit the gas tank, and not just the ones caused by Stevie Wonder backing into the 6-inch yellow-painted steel pipe filled with concrete adjacent to the Wendy’s drive-thru window.
Oh, but then there are the snow tires that say either “Granola” or “Formula.” If the former, Earl is the whelp of hippy wannabes; if the latter, Tom has at least one PET Milk fan in his nuclear family. He gets some serious BM points either way.
Good God. There’s just too much to comment on, like the air dam with what appears to be a Life Motto: “To the House.” Maybe it’s “To the Mouse.” Or maybe it’s “To the Noose.” Doesn’t matter. It’s there, and it’s going to the thing that it refers to. Whew.
This is a classic Babe Magnet if there ever was one.
We haven’t even touched on Earl’s aluminum tower. Two lame Carter carburetors take the place of one lame Rochester on a homemade aluminum chimney.
We didn’t get to the sound system, designed solely for Brownsville Station’s greatest 8-track hit. We didn’t clamp down on Earl’s taste in sidewalk sirens/pavement princesses.
SO much left untouched and undone.
This BABE MAGNET deserves a second helping. Fill in the blanks with a Number Two pencil in the comments section below.
[UPDATE: The air dam inscription is “TO THE WOODS” and makes just about as much sense as the other interpretations. Oh, wait, maybe it’s “TO THE HOODS.” Hold on… “TO THE WOOS’S?” I dunno, Babs.]
[Pinto Blowage from here.]
Son of Hot Links
The management at Tacky Raccoons is proud to announce that the lovely and talented Jen of Casual Slack fame has whelped a new blog: Retro Tavern.
PhotoBlog of derelict/abandoned Insane Asylums (Asylae?) here.
Richard Thompson does a great cover of a not so great song here. His “Wall of Death” (originally recorded with future ex-wife Linda) is classic.
Please “Do Not” look at this link.
Brief summary of the basics of the Retroencabulator in layman’s terms, a veritable primer on Advanced Tublication, here. All it needs is a Buettner variable switch on the barraic capacitor.
It’s really not THAT complicated. Cool B&W photos of US teenagers and their woe-quotes here via here.
Obnoxious TV show from the UK (heh) featuring “Bunny Boiler.” (Kinda PG-sumpm.)
Live sidewalk cover of the Buggles’ “Video Killed the Radio Star” by The Wrong Trousers. And they’ve got a studio version here.
The Idiot Test. Not here, there.
Russia likes Tacky Racoons (and some of you folks on our blogroll, too). The translation for TR reads, “New Resource. It is interesting.” Good enough for me. Here’s the list.
Looking for new humorz? Diesel has 819 sites listed (with a mysterious rating system based on flux) at Humor-Blogs. Bunky is very pleased to be stirring up flatulence within the 90th percentile (but not enough to be dancing around in his chonis). Sign up as a member if you haven’t already.
[Previous Hot Links here.]
Ocho Gatas Negras
[Image and caption from Fengtastic.]
Happy Mothers’ Day! We got you scrap aluminum!
Man Hasn’t Washed Face In 43 Years
Seattle, WA (Strutts News Services) – Dennis Mitchell, born at the age of four in 1951, was immortalized by his cartoonist father Hank Ketcham in the now world famous comic strip, “Dennis the Menace.”
Over the decades Hank Ketcham left black and white emotional scars daily (and three-color ones Sundays) on his pen-and-ink son Dennis, who later became a wealthy recluse in his adult years.
Dennis, the ultimate rugrat, turned 18 in 1965, and has never washed his face since, although he admits to taking weekly baths in his natatorium that he refers to as “The Moat.”
When asked why he still refuses to wash his face, Dennis, now 61, responded without emotion, “Why not? You’re not my mother,” and promptly returned to a large leather-upholstered rocking chair facing the northeast corner of his crayon-enhanced living room in Belmont Shores, California.
[Image from here via here. Related posts here and here.
Apologies to the late Hank Ketcham.]
Saturday Matinee: You Don’t Own Me, Johnny. Don’t You Know It’s the End of the World, Baz?
I don’t own Leslie Gore. She owned me up until I saw her hairdo and horseface. Bunky just sealed his eyeballs shut and listened.
I remember hearing this on the battery powered transistor radio I got for Christmas that I hid under my pillow, and Skeeter Davis sounded so purty. She’s another one who had a great voice and a bad hairdo. (I’d never seen her until a few minutes ago, but I was in love with her when I was about 8.)
Then there’s k.d. lang. Just ’cause she gotta big caboose and a butch haircut doesn’t mean I don’t like her music.
And then there’s poor Baz. [Tip o’ the tarboosh to Phil. He says it’s been around for a few years, and somehow he knew that I’d like it by saying so on his Blog From Down Under.]
Speaking of Down Under, some time ago, when WordPress was revamping it’s vamps, I was unable to add the video above to this post. Found a new link for it by accident, so here it is.
