Last Saturday night my friend, Chris Nichols, threw a party at The Wigwam on Route 66 in San Bernadino, CA.

With no traffic it’s still a good hour and 15 min. from Los Angeles and I would never make the trek there for anyone other than someone with a great reputation for throwing parties. Besides, Chris had just written a great piece about me in his Los Angeles Magazine blog, so Mark Blackwell and I hopped into the mustache van and headed to the tepees.

Here’s a daytime shot of the wigwams:

By the time we got there the sun was dropping fast.

But it was still light enough to see they did an adequate job of restoring the 1949 original, the seventh and last of the Wigwam motels across the United States, when it was restored a few years back. Though I wish the sign didn’t look so cheesy new.

There’s an appropriately kidney-shaped pool,…

…a totem pole pointing the way in…,

….several Hawaiian themed fire extinguishers, though not sure what that has to do with Indians and teepees,…

…and an excellent snack bar.

Fortunately we also had excellent barbecue prepared by Chef Christopher Martin.

I love the entrance of the Wigwam rooms, plaster mounded to look like pulled-back teepee flaps.

I poked my head into someone’s teepee. I apologize in advance as none of the stuff strewn around is mine. The rooms are small and compact, just this…

…and this, plus a little bathroom.

As far as rooms go, if I were going to stay in a teepee I would want to lie in bed and feel like I’m in one. Instead, the ceiling is so low I imagine it feels more like you’re sleeping in an attic.

But the grounds around the teepees are perfect for a party.

Most people dressed appropriately:

Notice this guy’s vintage Sahara Hotel tie:

Here’s Charles Phoenix and I before he changed into his head-to-toe authetic Indian headress:

Many guests drove appropriate vehicles to the party too.

Check out the Chrysler’s backend:

I definitely wouldn’t mind this parked next to my teepee as an added rec room:

A peek inside:

Complete with excellent curtains:

This was there too:

I would have driven my Studebaker were it not up on blocks and acting like a planter.

There was an entire evening’s worth of entertainment but that’s where I had to draw the line.

I know it’s antisocial but I listen to music all week.

So as soon as the organ, accordians, harmonicas and kazoos began Mark and I jumped into the mustache van and headed back to LA. But not before a fantastic night was had by all at the Wigwam!

Nice, big, fat story in the Times on me today + 12 photos. Thank you, Bob Morris, for seeking me out (no press agent involved here!) and writing such a heartfelt, spirited, and happily long piece. My house thanks you too (at least the part of it that made the photo)!

Wednesday, April 6, had tremendous potential. (L-R) Mark Blackwell and Laura Grover, both of whom worked on putting the whole Detroit extravaganza together with me, and I were being driven around the city by Michael Poris, one of the architects leading the charge to rebuild Detroit. The Majestic Theater is one of his projects.

Here’s a detail of The Majestic’s majesty:

Unfortunately, the skies weeped steadily throughout the day, making decent photos next to impossible unless one was out to amplify the decay of the city, in which case the incessant downpour added just enough teardrops to slam that sentiment home. Most of my shots look like this:

Which is a shame, as to miss the details of a combo Church and car wash is a waste of excellent kitsch:

Just about the only clear shots I got was when I got out of the car,…

…or some of my car-mates did,…

…or when the rain wasn’t spitting into the car, with the window rolled down. Thankfully it stopped for a few minutes when I snapped these murals at the Eastern Market:

Sometimes the gloominess of the skies enhanced the experience of what we were looking at.

Perfect for a place that’s a Home For Funerals as opposed to merely a Funeral Home. Then again, it’s right next door to the happiest place on earth, Motown.

Growing up, I spent many a Saturday afternoon planted on this front lawn, trying to catch a bass note or background vocal seeping through the walls.

I make a pilgrimage to the front lawn every time I go home. In the early 1980s I even got into the actual recording studio when The Detroit Free Press did a story on me growing up in Detroit and how, as a songwriter, I was influenced by Motown.

But, alas, fate was not as kind this time. Had I stashed the three video cameras and four still cams away I could have marched through the studio again. But I had no interest, especially on this trip, in having any significant moment of my life pass by without being digitally preserved. So the closest I got was the hallway as no filming was allowed.

The woman at the desk was really nice. She knew who I was as soon as I walked in as she had seen me on the news the morning before. But rules are rules. Even though I’ve collaborated with some of Motown’s greatest songwriters, like Lamont Dozier

… and Ashford & Simpson, seen here with me and Maurice White, founder and lead singer of Earth Wind & Fire, and LaChanze, the Tony-winning actress who played Celie in the musical I co-wrote, The Color Purple.

So we piled back in the car and were off to enjoy more of Detroit.

I would have enjoyed it more if the BBQ joint in front of that mural were still open:

Michael had been over to my place in LA about nine months earlier so I wasn’t worried about him showing us the usual tour suspects – The Detroit Institute Of Art, The Detroit Historical Society, The Spirit of Detroit, etc. All completely beautiful and historic but I wanted to see the spirit of the city as evidenced through how people express themselves via their homes, lawns and businesses. I’ve long believed that one’s immediate environment is a canvas for self expression. And places like this would be off the beaten track of any normal tour guide:

Talk about expressing yourself via your home…:

This is The Heidleberg Project, named for the street that artist Tyree Guyton took over 25 years ago and decorated houses, lawns and empty lots on two blocks of.  SPECTACULARLY INSPIRING:

 

One of the great promises of Detroit is that artists can live cheaply and express themselves in novel ways not possible in other cities. Like Ice House Detroit, a 2010 project where two photographers took over an abandoned house, hosed it down til it was an ice cave and then photographed it melting, symbolizing the building up and subsequent melting away of the once great Detroit.

Detroit is full of such self expression:

Artists see the future first – their way is to dream and paint that picture for everyone else. Reinvention and constantly shifting one’s perspective to stay inspired is as vital for places as it is for people. There’s a great effort in Detroit to redesign the city the artists’ way. In fact, one of my reasons for being there this particular week was to be the closing keynote speaker on that very subject at the Rust Belt To Arts Belt conference happening the next day.

But back to the streets… Rain-soaked as this photo is, I hope you can see the use of industrial materials on the facade of this otherwise traditional brick building. Up close it looks like a bunch of sawed-in-half hot water heaters. I love stuff like this.


There are so many beautiful abandoned buildings, waiting for artists to see their beauty and reinvent their once greatness.

And it’s not like artists can’t afford to live in Detroit.

Thankfully, someone bought the old Michigan Central train station. From what I understand, there are plans to renovate.

Forgotten by time, vandalized by squatters and ravers, its internal beauty still shines through.

It was getting late so we headed back as I had to go over my speech about the rejuvenation of Detroit I was giving the next day. I was pretty sure I had it down but wanted to make sure there were no crucial mistakes or  misspellings to trip me up. Sometimes even the most straight-ahead missives go awry. Like at this McDonalds, just a couple blocks from Vince’s, where we had dinner and which I’ll blog about tomorrow. I know they mean a 20 piece chicken McNugget dinner for $4.99 but if I’m to believe the sign it’s 20 P’s of cchcken uggets for four hundred ninety nine dollars.

Which makes it just slightly cheaper than some of the houses in Detroit. Calling all artists!!

One of my favorite things in life is photographing whatever I see around me, especially if I’m in a car and just happen to pass something that tickles my kitsch bone or general love of vintage or personality laden locations. Here are some of my favorites sightings that hit my eyeballs while attempting to find wherever I was going my first two days in Detroit.

Although I never made it in here I hear about this place, in existence for close to 120 years, from everyone:

I love the salute to the Oscars down in the corner of this mural on Wyoming and Seven Mile, with the Diana Ross lookalike eyeballing it:

Long since closed but gorgeous on Michigan Ave.:

It’s always an excellent sign of kitsch when the great architectural details stop as soon as you round the corner.

The real deal theater in town, the most gorgeously restored theatre I’ve ever been in, where my musical, The Color Purple, would be playing and my big Mumford extravaganza was taking place over the coming weekend:

The biggest drive-in movie screen in the country is the Ford Wyoming Drive-In:

The signage is a little anemic, but at least the Ford-Wyoming is still-standing:

If this were original 1930’s it would be great, but I suspect it’s just a cheesy 80’s repro “Deco”-like exterior on Broadway. I’d like to be wrong about that though.

I love the juxtaposition of homemade candy (and an excellent handpainted mural) and The Haunted Bus Ride:

Thankfully still-standing excellent Streamline Moderne architecture on Woodward:

You can tell this place is gonna be nuts from blocks away:

Extreme Dodge dealership (though I saw no signs of cars):

For a different mode of transportation, the old train station in Corktown:

A closer look at the majestic structure, down but definitely not forgotten:

In another part of town, mural excellence:

A closer look at the amphibious human:

Though that mural is nowhere near as excellent as this one, off of Woodward, west of Ten Mile.:

Four (great) burgers for $2.25 on Michigan Ave.:

How can you not be intrigued by a place with a name as flat and unassuming as “Nice Price”, also on Michigan Avenue?

Or this one on Michigan, so kitschiliciously basic::

A nice topless freeway entrance:

A sausage that screams “Detroit”!

A diner that screams Detroit, the Ellwood, built in 1936:

The Ellwood was moved to its present location downtown when the new Comerica ballpark was built.

I love this exterior in Hamtramck:

And just down the street:

Grab your snow cones and head down a few blocks further to Hamtramck Disneyland:

This building doesn’t look like much…

…but it’s all happening on the roof:

Evidently, Warholak is a great place to find vintage tires, which I’m always in need of as I comb the globe for original whitewalls for my baby:

And speaking of tires, here’s the famous one on I-94, once a ferris wheel at a New York World’s Fair.

And Joe Louis’ fist downtown:

I love you, Detroit! And I’m just two days in…

We had some time to kill on Tues, April 5th, before going to a reception for the Rust Belt To Arts Belt conference I was giving a speech at the next day. The party was downtown so we used the opportunity to swing by Detroit’s most famous landmark, The Spirit of Detroit.

This bronze statue, designed by Marshall Fredericks for $40,000 in the 1950’s, sits in front of the Coleman A. Young Municipal Center. Turning a gorgeous aqua over the years, it’s right down the block from Joe Louis‘ fist, made very popular most recently in the Eminem Chrysler commercial.

The 24-foot fist, designed by Robert Graham, was a gift to Detroit by Sports illustrated in 1987.

The fist is on Woodward and Jefferson, the last street before you hit before Canada. That’s Windsor across the water.

Mark Blackwell, who was videoing me, and I realized that me positioning myself just right as we drove by the fist could make excellent footage for the documentary we were making of my trip. It took a few times driving around Joe’s hand to get it right. The fist didn’t look right protruding from my head.

And it didn’t look right shooting out of my nose.

I finally just made a fist of my own.

I know my hand position should have echoed Joe’s position more but we were about to get a ticket so we moved on. And now we were running late for the reception.  Which is too bad as we really wanted to eat at the Ellwood, just a few blocks from the fist:

Or here:

Or here:

But we drove straight to the reception, where we were sure there’d be food. There was. Plenty of it, but it was too fancy and I wanted real Detroit, the food I grew up on. So we went back here:

Lafayette Coney Island, home of the crunchiest, most chili-loaded dog in the land.

The dogs aren’t all mine but it made for a better photo. Probably not what Joe ate in his prime years but definitely comfort food for my kitsch brain, and a MUST if you hit Detroit.

This 18 inch tall plaster stewardess is a stone cold vestige of the late 1960’s spirit of flying, when both planes and the people that manned them became more then silver tubes and dark blue head-to-toe wardrobe, finally giving passengers something to look at both inside and out of the plane.

Complete with hot pants and go-go boots, this buxom stewardess sculpture is one of my favorite artifacts of that era.

I love that her little liquor cart also includes a vest should she get a little chilly.

I featured the lovely and demure “Why Yes, Fly Me” today because as we speak I’m boarding a plane to Austin, Texas to speak on a panel at SXSW.

If by any chance you’re going to be at SXSW, here’s where I’ll be:

“Indie Success: Caching in on Collaboration”
Tuesday March 15, 11:00AM
Hilton, Salon C, 500 East 4th Street

Here’s the official description of the panel: Since the web began we’ve been talking about artists having a career without a label and going directly to fans. We finally have examples of this working, so what does it look like? SXSW Veteran Heather Gold sits down with successful collaborating indie artists including: Allee Willis (September, Boogie Wonderland, The Color Purple, Theme from Friends, over 50 million albums sold), Mary Jo Pehl (Mystery Science Theatre 3000, RIfftrax, NPR) and Kenyatta Cheese (Know Your Meme, Rocketboom). The Net links almost every form of artistic making, so it makes sense that we’re in an era of increasing collaboration and creation in many forms. We’ll find out how limitations and openness serve them in an era of “personal brands”. We’ll find out how they deal with rights, friendship and creating the best space in which to collaborate. We’ll also dig into their collaborative process in making social experiences, music, video and comedy and find out how they’ve succeeded creatively and in every other way.

Things have changed a lot for artists since 1976 when “Why Yes, Fly Me” was flying.

Though not much has changed for me when it comes to traveling. I’m not a big one for air travel – not because I’m scared of flying but because it kills the whole day. I’m not one for big conferences or a lot of walking either. SXSW should be interesting…

I’ll be posting my adventures on all these things I’m not so big on over the next few days so stay tuned. In the meantime, pretend this lovely stewardess is serving you a nice little cup of  steaming nuts and pouring you a fresh glass of champagne.

That’s where I’m hoping my state of mind will be in my thankfully-aisle seat as I, who also am not one for sweating, head to ultra-humid Austin to blab on about interactivity, social media and thriving in an open, independent cyber world. That ‘s something I AM big on. In fact, as big as “Why Yes, Fly Me’s” biggest assets:


This 1980’s plaster salute to love was a hot ticket item in Mexican swap meets in Southern California throughout the 80’s and 90’s. Although back then they were too cheesy for my just-out-of-the-gate budding love of kitsch which, although quite robust, still hadn’t crossed the line to full blown Camembert such as the love interpreted here. Thank God, I had the presence of mind to buy these Siamese lovers as lamps, plain sculptures, towels and any other material their love could be possibly be moulded or stamped upon.

The lamp lovers are very fit.

They look much more romantic backlit.

Her hair sweeps back and his sweeps forward, representing the push/pull magnetism of the universe.

With the lights on, the lovers look a little dusty in the chest area. This is why I hate this kind of matte finish on ceramics; all the imperfections show.  Like in real life, leaving the lights on despite the fact you spent all day at a flea market and haven’t had a chance to shower yet.

Most of all, I love that my cat Niblet loves spending time with the lamp lovers.

May anyone reading this be glowing all day today.  And remember, the real glow comes from within, so mate or no mate, I hope you wish yourself a very very VERY happy Valentines Day today!

In the lexicon of kitsch, ‘cheese’ and ‘cheesy’ are words often used to describe objects that grace the highest echelon of kitsch itself. As if there wasn’t enough cheese to go around on Super Bowl Sunday between the dedicated–to–the-point–of-Camembert headgear and face paint that loyal fans wear to the game, the obscene price of tickets, the even more obscene money dumped into commercials, the melted cheese on the pizza and hot dogs… it’s a veritable wheel of Brie when throngs gather around the TV screen or freeze in the stadium to watch people ram into each other insuring that life after 50 will be spent in the maximum amount of pain possible.

Although I happen to own the pert little 1950’s looseleaf pictured above, that purchase had much more to do with celebrating teenage years in an innocent age than celebrating February’s favorite sport. So I thought I’d take a tour of eBay today and see what football kitsch was available to anyone in a shopping mood who might want to sprinkle a little more cheese on their Super Bowl Sundae. Here are my Top 20 Cheddar picks:

Without question, this simple, homemade and very brown tribute to football lamp ranks high:

Although if I had my choice of only one thing it might be this stuffed Houston Oilers cheerleader:

I wonder if her sport skills include this?

I think the designer of this tee-shirt, listed on Ebay as “vtg-80s-RaBBiT-FooTBALL-BoW-BuNNY-CuTE-SWEATSHIRT-S_M” might definitely have such a skill:

I doubt that’s what  Mickey had in mind though…

…or this dork who I never want to see in a football jersey or anything else again:

Same with this guy:

When it comes to plush, I’ll stick to balls.

The one on top of this 1970’s Avon bottle isn’t bad:

I never thought of a football as ergonomically shaped, so this phone can’t be too comfortable to hold in your hand:

Whoever hand-beaded this tiny little football charm was very comfortable with a glue gun in their hand:

I wish it had been a football phone or glue gun that were in this juiced up football player’s hand instead of what we all know was in it in 1994:

How completely ugly is this Treasured Times football frame?

And how completely inappropriate is a football in the hands of this little 1961 porcelain Christmas angel?

And how completely dumb is it to permanently mount a glass on top of a football helmet, albeit a miniature one?

How completely ugly, inappropriate and dumb are fanny packs under any circumstance, any time and any place?

But how completely perfect is this football positioned as a towering head in order to sell this vintage protective device?

Also at the head is the football on this 1950s Dazey  butter churner:

While you’re churning your butter perhaps you’d like some beer.

But don’t drink too much or you may end up with hips like this player:

Throw a little whiskey into the brew and  it could be an early Valentine’s Day:

May you be enjoying all the cheese possible this Superbowl Sunday!

As many of you know, one of my favorite things in the world to do is to take rides with my BFF, Charles Phoenix, and go to places in and around LA that most people don’t know about unless they live in that part of the city. One of my absolute favorite things about LA is that there are so many different sections of the city. But the shame is that so few people who live here venture east of downtown. Charles and I, on the contrary, always venture east and, trust me, it never disappoints. If you’re heading south on the 101, make sure you drive farther than this building (and not just to get off to go the Music Center, Disney Hall, or MOCA).

In our particular case, our drive occurred in Charles’ brand new Dodge Challenger. New as in just hours old and now we were taking it on it’s virgin voyage. The new car smell added to the adventure.

One of the great things about having a friend who you share such keen interests with, coupled with the fact you’re both considered authorities of sorts on the topic – incredible vintage and/or kitsch architecture, signage, cars and the like – is that you can be fascinated almost anywhere you go. Charles and I only had a couple of hours so we headed for a quickie run down Whittier Blvd. Seriously, unless you’re blind, elitist or have absolutely zero kitschEsthetic genes in your body, Whittier Blvd. is breathtaking. So here’s our ride in the order it occurred…

We overshot our exit on the 101 so got off at Seventh St. and wormed our way back to Whittier Blvd. Which was fine as we wouldn’t wanted to have missed this spectacular hot dog roof:

Always special is this dinosaur and soda cup diorama, neither object of which has anything to do with the business underneath.

We always take First St. to get to Whittier Blvd. as one of our favorite houses in the city is there. But I’m dismayed to report that the vines have been plucked on the formerly eye-boggling ‘grapes house’ which used to look like this…

… but sadly now looks like this:

Don’t start me…

Thank God, further down the street some old movie theaters with original neon still survive.

It took all our strength not to stop and see what the Valentine’s Day decorations looked like inside Unique Dollar but we had limited time so kept driving.

I absolutely love store names like this:

Here we are at Whittier Boulevard. As soon as you turn onto the street you know you’re in for an excellent time warp experience.

Perhaps you should have the great 60’s guitar anthem, “Whittier Blvd.” by Thee Midnighters, on as a soundtrack while you tour the street with us. Press the following if so:

Charles and I were starving before we even left the house. We almost stopped here at the ‘they-don’t-resemble-Shaq-and-Kobe-other-than-they’re-big’ Bionicos food truck:

But luckily, Charles knew a “great Mexican restaurant full of pigs” just down the street.

The photorealistic food on all the windows was beautiful but all the rest of my window shots had too much glare to post.

Porky’s was definitely filled with pigs.

The menu was thrilling and pig filled too…

… though neither one of us ordered any of that particular animal.

I was especially impressed that the salad Porky’s served Charles consisted solely of radishes and lemons. I say save time in the kitschen and leave it at that.

When we left we would’ve stopped at the dress shop next door…

…but we were too excited to get across the street and go here:

There’s lots of excellent merchandise like this inside Whittier Crafts:

There’s also an abundance of carefully crafted and spelled signage:

Speaking of signage, there’s vintage overload in this part of LA:

There’s also incredible architectural detail like this 1950’s cement block facade…

… and this excellent 1960’s tile motif which I wish you could see closer than this photo I took. It’s like an explosion of vintage flooring but on a building.

Whittier Blvd. is definitely known for the automobiles that cruise it.

These were all within a two block radius of each other:

I wonder where the people who rented this limo were going?

I’m going to guess A. Torres Tuxedos as starting at :34 that’s where all the action took place when this classic car parade was shot.

Just a few blocks from A. Torres is this 1930s tamale shaped building. It used to be a Mexican restaurant.

You can see how the tamale ends twist at the sides of the building:

Whittier Boulevard has quite a few incredible old Deco buildings like this:

At the other architectural end, I love when business facades don’t quite live up to their names.

But even more, I like when a business is named one thing on one sign and something else on the other.

And even more than that I like when a store’s displays have nothing to do with what their awning says they sell.

Although this isn’t on Whittier Blvd. we passed it when we headed back to the freeway. In a city where spectacularly detailed murals abound, this is the one that makes our kitsch hearts sing:

Maybe you can appreciate it more if you see it closer:

Although we usually like to stay out past dark to catch all the neon, both Charles and I had places to go Saturday night so we headed back  early. Although I wish I could end with the penultimate kitsch shot, there’s absolutely nothing kitschy about this one other than the brains of the occupants.

We are blessed here at The Allee Willis Museum Of Kitsch at AWMOK.com to have an actual Brady in our Bunch and, as such, “Fake Jan Day” is now one of our National Kitsch Holidays! If you don’t know what “Fake Jan Day” is, Cindy Brady will explain it to you here.

Should you not decide to celebrate Fake Jan Day by dressing as a fake Jan I would suggest you simply acknowledge this most precious Kitsch National Holiday by ingesting the traditional “Fake Jan Day” food, the beloved sculptural culinary wonder known as the Cheese Ball. As far as I’m concerned, any day one has an official excuse to make a Cheese Ball is a holiday worth celebrating!

Oops, I didn’t mean those Cheese Balls.

I know the Christmas decorations are finally packed away but squirting cream cheese out of a frosting cone to enhance your Cheese Ball means that Santa gets one more closeup here at AWMOK.

It takes hardly any prodding at all to get me into the kitchen and in artistic mode to begin crafting a Cheese Ball. Were I not so lazy and overextended from holiday parties I might have even made it to the supermarket to construct one of my own so that it might serve as a veritable religious icon in the celebration of  Fake Jan Day. However, YouTube proved to be a loyal assistant here, and finding enough cheese balls, both gastronomic and human, proved an easy task.  So, if the holy fromage spirit inspires you to celebrate Fake Jan Day, wash your hands now and get ready to roll!

“Deep Fried Cheese Ball” – There seems to be a few steps missing here:

“Cheese Ball” – And now for the silent treatment:

“Corn Of Plenty Mini Cheese Ball recipe” – Don’t any of these people have heads?

“How To Make A Cheesy Spider Cheese Ball” – This is for Halloween but I’m sure it will keep til then:

“How To Make A Cheese Ball” – If the energy were any lower here I’d bottle it and take it to get to sleep every night:

“Pineapple Cheese Ball – Happy New Year”  I’m not sure if Pineapple Cheese Ball is the name of the dish or our sparkling hostess:

I never made a cheese ball of the magnitude of the following but I did make quite an impressive mashed potato ball once:

I sculpted the ball out of mashed potatoes, hit it with red food coloring, and stuck olives, gherkins and miniature corns in for a satellite effect and then fit it on top of my 1950’s Saturn shaped coffee urn for maximum presentational effect. You can see it and other impressive food ideas in my 1991 tiny short film, “Foxy’s Tips On Love – The Road To A Man’s Stomach Is Color-Coordinated”.

Whether you make your balls out of cheese, mashed potatoes or whatever ball material you choose I hope you have a very festive Fake Jan Day today!