I know that in most of the rest of the US having an umbrella barely pricks the surface of the smoldering heat that’s gripping it like a rabid python. If you live in one of those places you probably don’t want to hear that here in LA, outside of a couple 100° days, it’s been a pretty water park of a summer.

Frogs are more suited for heat infused weather then I am. I would happily volunteer to be a guinea pig whenever they invent air conditioning chips that can be inserted into your body.  But until then I’ll just have to pray the sun behaves in LA and look for shade when a super hot ray pokes through, just like these happy little frogs.

I wore my fringe vest for years. It was gold suede, just like the cheesy-haired couples’ on the bottom of this McCall’s pattern, though mine didn’t have the little turquoise beads. I think the sound of them knocking together would have driven me insane. I wore that that vest religiously from about 1970 to 73 but it got so pit stained I finally had to retire it. Suede does not take kindly to pit stains. I know I still have it sitting in a box somewhere. It was too much a part of my formative years to part with forever.

Speaking of pit stains, I’m not wearing my  fringe suede vest in this 1971 photo, when such a garment frequented my body, but I certainly am exhibiting pit stains:

I had just graduated college and got a job in the advertising apartment of Columbia and Epic Records. Although I would soon go on to become a copywriter, writing ads and commercials for all of the female and black stars on the labels, and eventually recording an album there myself, here I am as a secretary getting Johnny Cash to approve some copy my boss had written to promote his upcoming album. I remember being so upset about the pit stains when I finally got my photo developed, but it makes me love it more now.

I can’t seem to find any photos of me in my  fringe vest. But here’s one taken not long after the Cash photo where I’m wearing another vest  that displays the art of macramé, another massive trend in 60’s and 70’s fashion. This was the first and last vest I ever made. You can tell by the difference in the size of the holes that something that demanded this much precision was not my forte.

But back to fringe vests. I’ve never seen anyone wear one better than Peter Carpenter, writer, producer and star of one of my all-time favorite bad movies, “Point Of Terror”.  Just look at him work the fringe in the opening titles of his 1971 masterpiece.

Should I ever have the urge to wear a Fringe vest again I can always pull out my McCall’s pattern and pray I have better luck and skills then I exhibited with macramé. I’ve definitely learned how to control the pit stains.

 

So that’s it. The third and youngest miniskirted, go-go booted Del Rubio has left the planet to rejoin the act. Normally I’m really sad when a friend of mine passes away. Trust me, I’m upset about Milly, but as the Del Rubio’s themselves were fond of saying, they were one person with three heads. And now they are back together as one.

Milly passed away Thursday night. The last time I saw her was this last Valentine’s Day when I delivered the hundreds and hundreds of cards, many of them handmade, that people sent to me, many of those via Hidden Los Angeles, to give to her. She wasn’t feeling especially great that day and discouraged me from taking the hundreds of photos I usually do because her hair and makeup weren’t perfect. Not that mine are in this photo with Milly from 1996 after a day in the sun on the roof of the triplets’ mobile home.

This was the last photo I have of Milly, taken about a year and a half ago when I saw her and we discussed that if she started playing her guitar again I would throw a big party to present her.

I had the honor of delivering the eulogies when the first two triplets passed, Eadie in 1996 and Elena in 2001. Immediately after Eadie passed, the remaining two, whose lives had always been enriched and enlightened by the performances they did, announced they never wanted to perform again. I tried to pull them back into it for a couple years, telling them that the reason audiences loved them would not disappear because there was one less sister. But they would have none of it. As you can imagine, that worsened for Milly when Elena left to join Eadie.

I can’t imagine that the world will ever again see something as magnificent and innocent as The Del Rubio Triplets. They were completely unaware that they were somewhat of an oddity and lived to entertain and make people laugh. Although people who were seeing them for the first time may have started out laughing because they had never quite seen anyone who looked or sounded like The Del Rubio’s, they were always won over and went home uplifted, adoring the triplets and remaining eternal fans.

The Del Rubio’s were massive part of my life. I always lived to combine high and low elements of art. I met the Del Rubio’s after my songs had already sold over 30 million records, but to have the opportunity to hear my hits performed Del Rubio style was the biggest reward of all to a budding kitsch lover such as myself. The very first time I ever presented them to the public they did a duet of “Neutron Dance” with Ruth Pointer, who sang lead on the hit record that was then number 6 on the Hot 100 chart. That was honestly the peak moment of a lifetime devoted to the pursuit of Kitsch meets Art, a musical highlight equal to winning a Grammy for the song, which was part of the Beverly Hills Cop soundtrack, that same year.

If you’re unfamiliar with The Del Rubio Triplets, you can get a crash course here. And here.

There’s a fund established for Milly and her sisters at the Edith Bolling Wilson Birthplace Foundation in Wytheville, VA., which you can make donations in Milly’s memory to here. You may not know who Edith Bolling Wilson is. She was the wife of Pres. Woodrow Wilson and the great aunt of the Del Rubio Triplets.

That’s right, they had Presidential connections big-time as you can see from that photo taken with Edith Bolling Wilson, with husband Woodrow looking on, at the Woodrow Wilson House Museum In Washington DC. Any of you who saw The Del Rubio’s already know how regal they were. Their presidential link is just one more cherry on the kitsch and musical sundae known as The Del Rubio Triplets.

If you’re on Facebook you can go here to leave a note about Milly and/or leave one here. R.I.P. sweet, blond, go-go booted angel…

Alex Steinweiss passed away last Sunday. Even if you don’t know his name there’s no way you don’t know his work. Steinweiss literally invented the album cover. Before the 1930’s, records came in brown paper sleeves. At 23, he was hired by Columbia Records and suggested that the music be accompanied by poster art. Thus began the singlemost prolific and influential record jacket design career the world has ever known. Not only did Steinweiss give life to the record industry but he made the burgeoning Atomic Age visible to the public, creating the first wave of freeform design that designers still ride today.

Everything Steinweiss did burst with color. You could hear the music without listening to it just by looking at one of his covers. He was as great at what he did as it gets. His style is still imitated, though I’ve never seen anyone nail it like Steinweiss, who makes even the most successful designer of modern graphics look like a copycat.

And those aren’t even his most famous covers. But it gives you an idea of the rhythmic and lyrical style that still influences modern design today. This was the first time this stuff was being done. Just look at the Google image search page for an overview crash course.

I was lucky enough to have a piece of art in an album cover show at the Robert Berman Gallery in LA a few years ago that featured hundreds of Steinweiss’ LPs. It was a tribute show to him with a wide variety of artists designing their own album covers.
.
.
One of my favorite Steinweiss covers was Porgy and Bess. When I was (co)writing The Color purple musical, I listened to that soundtrack a lot. MP3s of course but that record cover was still in my head as I saw it so much as a kid. I hadn’t been a musical theater aficionado before I got the Color Purple gig. To bone up, I started listening to every theater soundtrack I could get my hands on, especially studying Black musicals. Hearing Porgy and Bess again was what put the genre over the top for me and made me excited about writing a musical myself.
.
Here’s Steinweiss’ cover:
.
.
And here’s my Color Purple-tinged take on Steinweiss for the gallery show:
.
.
My piece not only interpreted my musical but commented on the fact that both Porgy and Purple were two of the very, very few all Black musicals on Broadway ever, and that one of those was (co)written by me. That’s a lot to stuff into a piece which was at times torturous to design. I could feel the incredible artistic journey I took making it once I stood back and saw it hanging on the wall. Especially with hundreds of actual Steinweisses, not to mention the man himself, only feet away.
.
.
I got to meet Steinweiss too, which was a THRILL. I know we took photos together but I can’t find them for the life of me. So I’ll settle for being thankful for the life of Alex Steinweiss. His artistic influence on me was MASSIVE. Without him, all there was was the record. With Steinweiss, came story and concept and full expression of the artist and art form, without which I would die. R.I. P. Mr. Steinweiss.
.
.

 

When I was in my adolescent and teen years in Detroit, stuffing my big feet into high heels and T-straps, both of which looked far better sans socks, PEDS were a MAJOR revolution. They were the very first commercially released beige skin colored socklets that acted like socks but were tucked well below the shoe line and made it appear that you were wearing nylons. Which I hated even more than heels.

I’m pretty sure I had Peds on in this photo:

In theory, Peds were brilliant. In practical application, they stunk. Literally. After they slipped down into your shoe until it felt like you were walking on a clump of laundry, the heavy material they were made of soaked up pounds of foot sweat and smelled like they had been used to wrap fish in and left in a gym hamper for six months.

Still, I had quite an inventory of Peds to avoid the dreaded nylons and pantyhose. This might not have happenened had I discovered the beauty and necessity of coordinated socks and shoes, but that adventure into my own style wasn’t to happen for another decade or so.

But back in the 1960’s, a girl needed to dress like a dainty girl. Or so I thought. And that meant wearing those damn heels. Or flats, but even those were still mostly worn without socks. You can’t see them in the photo but this was my first time in high heels, at my sister’s wedding:

I distinctly remember feeling my Peds slipping as that photo was snapped.

This Peds display was a very early thrift shop find of mine. These days I’m much happier to stare lovingly at it than to have little socklets grip my foot like a python in a sauna and lose elasticity faster than a 90 year old.

The only thing I love more than a really bad fashion idea is a really excellent display card to feature it on. The idea of a cigarette ring, or any kind of a ring to park some kind of smokable in, is actually pretty great were the part of the ring meant to hold the smoldering log large enough to accommodate it. But in the case of the Hollywood Finger Ring, unless you’re packing Virginia Slims, that ain’t going to happen.

Though they do suggest this:

Then again, why don’t you just carry a blowtorch? But, if we give some license and assume that a cigarette or some other rolled substance would, in fact, fit into the little carriage, here are some of the many instances in which such a ring would come in very handy:

As much as I abhor cigarettes or being in the vicinity of someone else partaking of the habit, I really think this is a brilliant concept. However, in addition to the already discussed too small opening for an actual sized cig, the rings are made of colorful plastic. Which means that they would most likely appeal most to kids. Who we don’t want to encourage to smoke. So this brilliant concept = stupid product.  Which is just what we love placing on the shelves here at The Allee Willis Museum Of Kitsch.


.

Local news is my favorite TV to begin with. The tans, the hairspray, the fact that I know all of the locations, all this makes for exciting kitsch viewing. Last Friday, when Carmageddon – a term I hate but one which took on mythic proportion in weeks past – was about to hit as a 10 mile stretch of the 405 freeway was closing for repairs, my house was stocked with food and I had enough work to keep me locked inside for months.

Saluting the madness with an array of transportation related cheesy LP covers that I posted on Facebook, one for every hour the freeway remained closed, was my way of having my own little Carmageddon celebration all weekend long. As it happened, the work was completed way ahead of schedule so I only got to serve 35 slices of LP cheese as opposed to the full wheel of 52.

The following is the full platter, posted in real time as events occurred. Captions following each LP were submitted by Facebook followers and appear in italics.

LP#1 – The first ramp closes.

Mark Blackwell: “”Willie go ’round in circles…”” ‎

Mike Itsbatmansilly: “This brother is so smooth he gets tweets from Jesus”

Laurie Smith: If Willie was serious about the rapture then he’d have a sun roof.

Mark Blackwell: “With Jesus as his co-pilot, Willie always takes the carpool lane…

Mark Christian Miller: Driving Mass Crazy

Amy Ronis: One toke over the line, sweet Jesus….

 

LP#2 – More ramps closing.

Vinca Price: Look at those headlights! Oh, the car isn’t bad, either.

Mark Blackwell: ‎”It’s what’s under the hooker…er, i mean ‘hood’…that counts…”

Laurie Smith: Central Parking lot.

Amy Ronis: ‎”Broadsided on the freeway.”


LP#3 – Only a couple ramps left open.

Mark Blackwell: ‎”Like a Jeannie in a bottleneck…”


LP#4 – All ramps closed.

Howie Pyro: i WSHHHHHHHHHHH they would shut up with this Carmageddon crap!

Mark Blackwell: SHHHHHHHHHHHHH…it.

Amy Ronis: c’mon and “VOGUE!”


LP# 5 – Freeway completely closes. I’m going to bed.

Ted Nimmo: “I was sure I left my trailer here.”

David Gene Echt: “Is this the Smoking Car?”

Steve Stubbleyou: “Man, I sure could use a ride to Sugartown from Nancy right about now.”


LP#6 – Carpooling on city streets.

David George: Thinking of changing their name to the 4-0-Five and leading a parade on the newly completed carpool lane…

Mark Blackwell: Crystal mess…

Amy Ronis: Carpoolin’ chain gang

Steven Collings Russell: “Drop my hand and PUSH, bitch!”

 

By this point, Demolition is in full gear.

 

LP#7 – So far none of the freeways are backed up.

Mark Blackwell: Al B. Not-So-Sure…


LP#8 –  $4 Jet Blue flights from Burbank to Long Beach sold out in less than an hour.

Bob Ricketts: Is that co-pilot in drag ????

Cheryl Bianchi: Fly the friendly cielos…

Mark Blackwell: ‎”Odd is my co-pilot…”

Steve Stubbleyou: Founders of the Mile High Club.

Danetta Cox Cordova:  Sorry to say, they never let women fly back then. She’s just keeping the co-pilot’s seat warm.


LP#9 – Bicyclists start crosstown race against Jet Blue flight to long Beach.

Mark Blackwell: Ass transit…

Steve Stubbleyou: Watch for speed rumps, er, bumps.

Mark Milligan: Booty biker

Mark Blackwell: Stay clear of the center divider…


LP#10 – People are discouraged from standing on ramps to chart the freeway progress.

(Sorry, none of the captions made me laugh.)

 

LP#11 – Passengers on the $4 sold-out, 150-seat Jet Blue flights were greeted at the airport with balloons and a Carmageddon cake.

Mark Blackwell: Two moon junction…


LP#12 – Car alternatives abound.

Cheryl Bianchi: Put another Shrimp on the …vespa?

Steve Stubbleyou: Joni Mitchell in her blue phase: Help me, I think I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.


LP#13 – Nice day to stay at home and wash the car.

Mark Blackwell: Got lost on his way to the california grapes audition…

Amy Ronis: Fasten your seatbelts, It’s going to be a schlumpy ride!

Steve Stubbleyou: Unsafe in any Speedo.


LP#14 – All dressed up but no 405 to roll down…

Mark Blackwell: The Pillage People.


LP#15 – Many folks have come up with imaginative alternatives to driving a car….

Kimberly King-Burns – ‎”I thought you said banana split?”

Betsy McGowan: Day O Day O….daylight come and I wanna go home!

Mark Blackwell: Millie’s recovery in the institution has been slow, but as she herself always said, ‘time will tell’….

Timothy W. Ladd: Time will tell if Millie is a man.

 

LP#16 – Demolition is going smoothly, though news reports say there may be some damage to the road below from falling concrete.

Mark Blackwell:  “Okay guys, take it to the bridge…”

Jerrod Cardwell: Work stoppages due to intermittent bouts of “funkiness.”


LP#17 – I can’t believe I missed the last Jet Blue flight from Burbank to Long Beach.

Kimberly King-Burns: ‎”So I’m sitting here at El Toro and not a single Blue Angel blew me a kiss!”

Amy Ronis: Decca-dent!

 

LP#18 –  110 freeway downtown getting crowded as people head to the Coliseum for the LA Galaxy vs. Real Madrid soccer game.

Joseph Bacon: If they only had a Pink Cadillac they could have cruised down the Freeway of Love.


LP#19 – There’s lots of Carmageddon parties going on in LA tonight.

Mark Blackwell: Sweden’s just another word for nothin’ left to lose…

Danetta Cox Cordova: “Vee can move this old vilding and make just enough voom to park vis car, if only vee push harder. Come on voys, harder I say!”


LP#20 – While most Angelinos stayed out of their cars, David Hasselhoff stayed on his.

Richard Pedretti-Allen: He’s holding a C7 chord but that stance says B# and though I would classify Hasselhoff as A-diminished, I hope that car has A flat.

Mark Blackwell: Nicht Rocker….

Steve Stubbleyou: Faster than a speeding mullet…

Danetta Cox Cordova: Thought bubble of girl in car:  “I am so tired of the Hoff doing this at every red light.”


LP#21 – Drunk driver on the 101 right now. Police in pursuit.

Mark Blackwell: Better Czech yourself before you wreck yourself.

Danette Cox Cordova: Riding a nose giant nose trimmer in outer space with elf shoes on. Add to bucket list.


LP#22 – People found lots of ways of getting around the 405 today.

Mark Blackwell: neck and neck…

Tamara Ragus: “O.K., now cough.”

Mike Gormley: Together Again.

Amy Ronis: Bjork’s 2012 Grammy awards dress.

Deb Walker Weaver: This is what happens when all the good men are taken.

Julia C.R. Gray: With your legs and my brains, the detours will be cake.

Mark Blackwell: Gee-iraffe your hair smells terrific…

 

LP#23 – Taxi drivers say the shutdown is bad for business and that they had to wait 2 hours at LAX before anyone needed a cab.

Mark Blackwell:  Life in the brass lane…surely makes you lose your mind…

Steve Stubbleyou:  Gilligan and MaryAnne pick up a few extra bucks in the off-season. (And by the way, don’t those tires look delicious?)


LP#24 – Even the truckstops were empty today.

Amy Ronis: Truckstop Barbie!


LP#25 – LA roads were deserted today. Which makes the car chase happening as we speak a whole different adventure.

Amy Ronis: Vagabond dreams of Edward Hopper…

Mark Blackwell: Buddy can you spare a dame…?

 

Once the car chase, which lasted over 3 hours began, there were no more TV reports re Carmageddon. To call it a non-event is an understatement. Which is actually good news as Angelinos heeded the call and it looks like we’ll all be back on the road soon.

LP#26 – Officials remind us “It’s legal to drink beer and fly, whereas the cyclists have to follow all the rules.”

Mark Blackwell: Brigitte Bar-not.

Laurie Smith: Nice motorthighcle!

Steve Stubbleyou: (to the tune of “The Letter”) Gimme a honey on a Harley/ Make her kinda nasty and gnarly/ Oh Brigitte Bardot/ Take it nice and slow/ My baby, she rode me in leather.


DAY 2

LP#27 – Department of Transportation says they’re ahead of schedule and all will be back to normal soon!

Steve Stubbleyou: ¿Donde estan los bumper cars, por favor?

Mark Blackwell: ‎5 drive 55

 

LP#28 – Carmageddon ending soon!! I knew I should’ve rented a truck to move the piano.

Laurie Smith: And 3 seconds later Donny’s solo career was over.

Amy Ronis: Donny plays piano…Marie plays conductor!


LP#29 – Carmageddon ending soon!! Hop into the truck, girls!

Kellie Cracker: Mormon truckers have all the fun!!

Mars Parham: Mormon Convoy!!

Sid Limitz: Show me the way to Petticoat Junction.

Amy Ronis: Sisterwives are doin’ it for themselves!

Mark Blackwell: Mormongeddon…

 

LP#30 – Carmageddon ending soon!! Let’s go to the beach!

Alison Hay: Carpooling down Benedict Canyon was proving to be a challenge.


LP#31 – Carmageddon ending soon!! Now we can get the organ back to the church!

Kellie Cracker: At least he still has his organ.

Mark Blackwell: armandlegageddon…

 

LP#32 – Carmageddon’s ending soon! Great, now I don’t have to ride the dog!

Mark Blackwell: Sounds better if you’ve got a big woofer.

Steve Stubbleyou: Go Greyhound … and leave the wifey to us.

Mark Blackwell: No barking zone

 

North side 0f the 405 reopens!

 

LP#33 – Get me to Mission Hills!

Amy Ronis: Pixar test drives its special effects team for “Up”

Mark Blackwell: Little Red Bore-vette…

Steve Stubbleyou: With balloons in my eye/And my hand on your thigh/ That’s amore…

 

LP#34 – Carmageddon’s almost over! Time to put the Double Double down and get back on the road.

Mark Blackwell: The truck stops here…

Amy Ronis: This big Bud’s for you!

Mark Blackwell: Bertha control…

 

LP#35 – It’s over!! Thank you, construction crews, for a speedy, non-Caramageddon weekend!

Amy Ronis: Hot-diggitty!

 

Carmageddonot actually only lasted 37 hours. Angelinos were model citizens and stayed home or in their neigborhoods. It felt like a holiday weekend, which is healthy for a city once in a while. And that means there are 17 slices of LP cheese leftover for when the other side of the freeway gets done in eleven months and the whole Carmageddonot starts all over again.  At least for now, the freeway is back to normal. I really do LOVE LA!

In a salute to Carmageddon, I’m posting one cheesy transportation-related LP Cover on Facebook for every hour the 405 freeway is shut down in LA this weekend.  This is the makings of an extraordinary cheese platter, served one morsel at a time, rivaled only by the Camembert created as local newscasters babble on as if LA is undergoing a lobotomy. If you’re on Facebook, drive directly to http://www.facebook.com/AWMoK or my profile page, http://www.facebook.com/alleewillis. All captions are welcome, the best of which will be used in my Kitsch O’ The Day blog on Monday, which will feature all 53 slices of LP cheese that honor the reopening of my least favorite freeway in LA, the 405.

A smattering of the covers featured so far:

 

Happy weekend!

Yesterday I went to serve some delicious Hostess Twinkies, a staple I always keep around here at Willis Wonderland, to a couple people I was having a meeting with. The subject of Twinkies came up and I thought I would impress them with the fact that I always kept a box of them around. I didn’t even panic when I saw none in the cupboard  because I saw two boxes of Twinkies’ sister, Hostess cupcakes, sitting there. But to my horror, when I opened the box and ripped a package open the cupcakes looked like they had emerged from an archaeological dig.

I find it most curious that the icing color ages just like human hair does, color draining out of it.

The cupcake itself still looks pretty normal but upon squishing it breaks up like an old piece of Styrofoam.

The cream inside has taken on an almost marshmallow Fluff texture, though you’d need a pick ax to scrape any of it out.

This one cupcake managed to retain its chocolatey color in the frosting but look what was growing on the cake:

It’s beyond me how only one out of 48 cupcakes could have attained this degree of mold and held it’s deep brown frosting color. Perhaps someone on the assembly line had a gripe and poked a little something extra into this one special little cake….

But at least I could pull out my trusty Hostess cupcake case to show my guests what a real one should look like.

This case was the size Hostess cupcakes were back when I first started eating them as a youth. Like many other things in the universe, the real thing has shrunken over time.

1950’s/60’s Hostess cupcakes would have never fit in this container, made in 2001. Not the case with the shrunken head ones I just pulled out of the cupboard.

I guess Hostess cupcakes are meant to be gobbled up the second they’re procured from the store. I always stock up on these things for parties and then have hundreds of them left over. Either we’ve had an even hotter summer in LA then my brain cells are capable of registering and these things just went bad, or I bought them a lot longer than a few months ago and they just got lost somewhere in back of my cupboard. Which is not surprising given its eternal disheveled state:

I hate throwing out food but the cupcakes have definitely passed their prime. At least my Hostess cupcake case will be with me forever.

 

.

As we are oft to do, Charles Phoenix and I took another one of our kitsch spins around LA and environs this past weekend. We were dressed smartly for the occassion, at least from the ankles down:

Our first stop was at Johnnies Pastrami on Sepulveda Blvd. in Culver City:

Johnnies hasn’t changed a lick since it was built in 1952. Counter, stools, booths, jukebox, etc. are all original.

This was confirmed by the man himself, Bob Bass, who built and still owns Johnnies, and who has eaten lunch at his regular table every day since.

I’ve always loved restaurants that park a loaded pickle bowl before you as soon as you sit down.

Charles and I pondered the menu.

But I always go for the same thing, the 1950’s-grilled-to-soda-shop-perfection cheeseburger:

The french fries snap when you sink your choppers into them.

The cole slaw, eternally shredded a tad long, drips with creamy sweetness.

Charles and I were perfectly positioned behind the pie rack.

And although we stared at the bulging slices throughout the meal…

…we had to save room as we always make a donut shop stop on our driving trips.

Circus donuts are good…

…but I much prefer Spudnuts. Which makes sense as judging from the drink station, I think lottery tickets may be bigger business for Circus than donuts.

Next we went deeper into Torrance and hit King’s Hawaiian Bakery on Sepulveda. King’s is not only spectacular for the entrance to the dining room…

… but because of what we go there to buy.

Here I am experiencing a moment of panic upon seeing empty shelves.

You would be too if you knew this was what was inside of the packages we were looking for.

Thankfully, we got the last six loafs of the Rainbow Butter Bread.

All day long we passed beautiful architecture:

I wish all Baskin Robbins still looked like this one on Crenshaw Blvd.:

Nothing great architecturally about this IHOP but it’s spectacular that a horse is used to sell pancakes.

Though I guess it makes as much sense as a bear selling wheel alignments:

There was much beautiful signage along the way.

Although not as dramatic as the previous photos, I always enjoy a sign that employs peculiar use of quote marks:

If “On The” are the two most important words you can spotlight about your burgers, I’m sticking to Johnnie’s. Also featuring two words is the name of this Thai joint:

What a great day! Dinner, thankfully, wasn’t until 10:30 pm.

 

Photo credits: Denny McLain and me.