Underground Press Digest was an obvious, although peculiar, idea. It featured “condensed” articles from the then active underground press: a sort of countercultural Reader’s Digest for the busy young radical.

It was published by Robert W. Farrell, who had published comic books in the ’50s (including Captain Flight, Strange Fantasy, and Wonder Boy). By the time he put out Underground Press Digest, he was working for Eerie Publications, which put out black and white horror comics, much like the more upscale Warren.

The first issue is dated January 1971, and contains 66 pages. In addition to the articles listed on the cover, there are also comics by R. Crumb, Joel Beck, and Marcia Resnick. And “Adams,” who apparently drew for the Rat, and is otherwise a mystery to me.

There was another issue published in March, but I think it quietly folded after that. (You can click on the image to see it bigger.)

(Posted by Doug Skinner)

True Weird was an exuberantly trashy magazine that offered articles on historical oddities and mysteries. It lasted three issues: November 1955, February 1956, and May 1956. Among the topics were the Count of Saint-Germain, zombies, werewolves, Nostradamus, Rasputin, haunted houses, the Bell Witch, and Patience Worth. Most of the material had been rehashed many times in similar books and magazines, and the True Weird treatment firmly favored sensationalism over accuracy.

It was published by that impeccably colorful publisher, Joseph Weider, who started out as a bodybuilder, and specialized in magazines for men. Among his efforts were Muscle and Fitness, Mr. America, Men’s Fitness, Fury, Senior Golf, Jem, and Monsieur. He was occasionally in legal trouble for publishing smut, and for making exaggerated claims for his dietary supplements. The editors of True Weird are listed as Ward Semple and Charles A. Smith. I can’t find much about either of them online, except that they worked on Weider’s other magazines. Maybe that kept them busy.

After three issues, True Weird changed into True Strange. No explanation was given. Is strange better than weird?

Both True Weird and True Strange are remembered for their wildly pulpy covers. Here they are, as well as the back cover of the first issue. The first two covers are by Clarence Doore, the third by John Martin. All can be enlarged by clicking.

(Posted by Doug Skinner)

We have another “Jeu de 7 Familles.” Again, there’s no date or publisher, but it has the same box and back as the last example. This deck is devoted to “Cinema”; you see here the grandmother of the camera operator family. Nice jazzy ’60s art, with simplified figures and bold off-register colors.

(Posted by Doug Skinner)

The “Picture-Word Game” was created by Edward W. Dolch, and published by The Garrard Press in 1941. Each card contained a word and its picture on one side, and just the word on the other. The instruction sheet explains that the cards teach “the 95 nouns which careful study has found to be of widest use in well-known readers.” Two games are suggested: “The Go-Together Game,” in which children classify things that go together; and “The What Is It Game,” in which they compete to read the word sides correctly.

Edward W. Dolch devised many “Learning Games” and educational books. I simply like the blunt simplicity of the drawings.

(Posted by Doug Skinner)

Chansons de France was published in 1928 by Librairie Plon. J. B. Weckerlin arranged the traditional songs, and M. B. de Monvel provided illustrations. The music is set within the pictures, standing out from the delicate colors.

(Posted by Doug Skinner)

“Le jeu de 7 familles” (the game of seven families) is a popular French children’s card game. It never caught on in the US, for some reason. The deck contains seven families, each comprising parents, grandparents, son, and daughter. The objective, naturally, is to collect all six of one family. The decks often have a theme; this one, which I guess is from the ’60s (no date is given) is devoted to aviation: balloon, helicopter, dirigible, rocket, airplane, glider, and parachute. Each family, when reunited, can be fitted together into a sort of frieze. My scanner is too small for all six, but here are the father and mother of the dirigible family.

(Posted by Doug Skinner)

That Regrettable Weekend contains 20 of my songs, plus the eponymous instrumental. You can find it on Bandcamp.

I play soprano, banjo, and baritone ukuleles; keyboards; Tremoloa; Ukelin; bulbul; xylophone; melodica; bells; psaltery; ocarina; grunt call; trombone; and assorted percussion. And sing, of course. Carol Benner plays viola on three songs.

The tracks are:

Little Flower
Bandwagon
Love Me Unconditionally
Little Two-Headed Kitten
Make a Wish
Buenas Noches, Little Roaches
Notary Publics
Careers
Sentimental Doofus
The Hypnotist’s Birthday
Worthless Little Moments
The Renaissance Faire
Whine
Flake Food
My Face Is in the Sand
If Something Goes Wrong
Film Crew
Agnosticize
I Just Don’t Understand
My Pal Satan
That Regrettable Weekend

(Posted by Doug Skinner)

The Baby’s Opera, an 1877 offering from Walter Crane, includes both decorated sheet music and full-page illustrations, all at 7 and a half inches square. This is what songbooks should look like!

(Posted by Doug Skinner)

The Cocktail Hour is now available! This classic cocktail guide from 1927 contains 224 recipes collected by Marcel Requien, and a running commentary on the proper drink (and etiquette) for every hour of the day by Lucien Farnoux-Reynaud. The bilingual edition from Corps Reviver includes the original French text, an English translation by Doug Skinner and Gaylor Olivier, and 34 new illustrations by Tony Brook.  It’s 256 pages! You can order it here!

(Posted by Doug Skinner)

The illustrated songbook is an appealing hybrid, now seldom seen, as fewer homes have a piano to stack them on, and fewer people read music. Many of these songbooks were meant for children, although there are plenty of examples for adults.

Here’s one for the nursery: The Most Popular Mother Goose Songs, published by Hinds, Hayden, & Eldredge, New York, 1915. The illustrations are by the busy children’s illustrator Mabel Betsy Hill, not to be confused with the new Zealand painter Mabel Hill (judging by a Googling, some do). Each of its 44 thick pages contains a song with piano accompaniment, printed in blue, set inside a delicately colored illustration. “Kitty White” and “Higgilty Piggilty” are typical examples. (You can, of course, click on them to enlarge them.)

(Posted by Doug Skinner)