“Makin’ Groceries” was published in New Orleans in 1987, by Mel-Mar Productions.  All of the cards represent local brands of food: ice cream, crab boil, red beans, potato chips, etc.  The players compete to match and accumulate groceries.  As the instruction card says, “We have chosen some of Louisiana’s finest and most original food products that best typify the unique quality and character of the State’s prominent food industry.”  It’s essentially a collection of ads; but I like its cheerful regionalism and oddball art.

(Posted by Doug Skinner)  

I’m happy to inform you that “The Puppet Show,” a vastly entertaining traveling exhibit of puppet-related art, is now at the Frye Museum in Seattle.  The show includes a number of the videos that Michael Smith and I did over the years; the Frye Museum is at 704 Terry Avenue.  Further particulars can probably be found here.  The DVD collecting those videos is still to be had from 2nd Cannons.

Some of you may want to head down to Jalopy Theater, in Brooklyn, on Sunday, June 7, for “Comic Strip Serenade.”  Comics historians Bill Kartalopoulos and Mark Newgarden have put together a program of songs based on comic strips, many never heard since they were preserved in sheet music many years ago.  There will be songs about The Katzenjammer Kids, Abie the Agent, Li’l Abner, Felix the Cat, Smokey Stover, Krazy Kat, and Pogo, among others.  The performers include Les Chauds Lapins, Peter Stampfel, Robin Goldwasser, John Keen, and myself.  It’s at 9:00; details may be found here.

I’ll also be performing in Carmen Borgia’s long-awaited nautical musical, “South.”  I’ve been cast as the mysterious, Bible-swiping Mr. Pym, and as a pirate captain; I’ll also be playing uke, cuatro, Marxoharp, cavaquinho, and other nice instruments.  It’s at Dixon Place, 161 Chrystie Street in Manhattan,  on June 12, 13, 19, 20, 26, and 27.  There are probably more details here and here. 

(Posted by Doug Skinner) 

The “Space Age Edition” of Old Maid was published by the Russell Manufacturing Company in 1960.  Most of its pairs are, like this one, cartoon versions of NASA spacecraft.  However, the UN building, Albert Einstein, and a skin diver are also part of the roster.  I guess they help keep the kids on their toes.

And here’s the Old Maid herself.

(Posted by Doug Skinner)

[Here is, approximately, the outline Dr. Mamie Caton and I followed for our bit in our Medi-Vaudeville event.  I prepared it to allow interaction with Mamie (who was too busy to write anything herself) and with the audience.  And I’ll pursue it on another page, to keep the home page tidy.]

(Posted by Doug Skinner)

[Read more →]

“Dandy Candy,” a “Built-Rite Toy,” parades anthropomorphic junk food before its young audience.  Pies, cakes, candy canes, gum drops, and other sugary citizens laugh and frolic before jagged pastel backgrounds.

I suppose the idea is to encourage children to up their sugar intake.  I had no interest in sweets as a kid; my family, of course, was appalled, and warned me that I was endangering my health, but I wouldn’t get with the program.  Grown to maturity, I still don’t see the point of this stuff.  Maybe if I had this game to teach me, I would have learned my lesson.  And maybe not.

(Posted by Doug Skinner)   

I made this sketch of that curious old building, the Faust House, on a trip to Prague a few years ago.  I post it here for whatever pleasure it may trigger.

The Faust House, for those unfamiliar with it, sits on Charles Square; it houses the Faculty of Medicine of Charles University, and is not open to the public.

There are many stories told about it.  The first is the one that named it: that it was indeed the home of Dr. Faustus, and that the Devil whisked him off through a hole in the roof — or, in some versions, from the second floor of the corner tower.

It sheltered a gaggle of savants over the years: in the 15th century, the alchemist Prince Vaclav of Opava; in later years, the astrologer Jakub Krucinek, and another alchemist, Ferdinand Antonin Mladota.  In the 19th century, Karl Jaenig indulged his romantic morbidity there, rigging up a gallows, painting the walls with dismal mottoes, and sleeping in a coffin.  He also asked in his will that he be buried face down.  Ah, youth.

The most familiar Faust Householder though, is undoubtedly Edward Kelley, John Dee’s rather shady accomplice, who settled in Prague for a while.

And, not surprisingly, there are other rumors: unexplained fires, cat skeletons found in the walls, and reports that 16th century alchemical paintings still cover the walls and ceilings.  But we can’t go in, so we can’t see them.  We can just study the facade, and ponder the folklore.

By the way, I recommend sketching while traveling.  It’s less accurate than photography, but you really have to look at something to draw it, and that’s a treat.

(Posted by Doug Skinner)  

Ah, the Old Maid returns: here she is in a nicely rendered “Peter Pan Card Game” from the Whitman Publishing Company.  Again, I’ve selected the painter from the deck, since I always wonder if the anonymous artist has slipped in a self-portrait.

And here’s the Old Maid.

(Posted by Doug Skinner)

Today is Robert Browning’s birthday.  If he were alive today, that beard of his would be even longer.

I suspect few read him today; I don’t know the statistics.  If so, it’s a pity.  I cracked him open not long ago to examine his portrait of a spiritualist, “Mr. Sludge the Medium,” and have been reading him with pleasure ever since.  Believe me, he’s full of surprises.

And few surprises are more surprising than his famous error in “Pippa Passes.”  I wanted to celebrate it here: what could be more ullagistic than a boner from a now-neglected poet?  I thought it most fitting to couch it in verse.

Come shed a tear for Robert Browning,
The butt of countless students’ clowning,
The laughingstock of English classes.
For in his drama, “Pippa Passes,”
He made a choice that wasn’t clever,
And marred his masterwork forever.
If you will fetch your dusty copy,
I’ll show you where old Bob got sloppy.
It’s near the Epilogue’s conclusion,
Line ninety-six.  See his confusion?
That’s not the word that he was after;
It’s bound to raise our ribald laughter.
What happened?  This is so unlike him.
Did rashness or impatience strike him,
As he sped toward that final curtain?
Was he too hasty to make certain?
Was he so fixed upon his mission
He couldn’t check the definition?
So pleased with his vocabulary
He scorned the humble dictionary?
He read, in some old seldom-read piece
A word, and said, “That means nun’s headpiece.”
But no, it’s not a nun’s regalia;
It means “the female genitalia.”
No nun’s brow bore a “twat” as bonnet;
Now his has “twit” emblazoned on it
Forevermore.  Till life’s last flicker,
We’ll read that line, and we will snicker.
So shed a tear for Robert Browning,
A poet reckless with his nouning.

(Posted by Doug Skinner.  Careful with those candles, R.B.)

In May 1776, the Continental Congress proclaimed a day of “Humiliation, Fasting, and Prayer.”  Since then, our presidents have occasionally marked off a special day for prayer; and in 1988 Reagan fixed the first Thursday in May as “The National Day of Prayer.”  Humiliation and fasting have apparently been cut.

Not all presidents have hopped onto the clasped-hand bandwagon.  Madison declared a National Day of Prayer, then regretted it, feeling it violated the separation of church and state.  Jefferson was quite the party-pooper, opining that “civil powers alone have been given to the President of the United States, and no authority to direct the religious exercises of the constituents.”

The Ullage Group suspects Jefferson may have been on to something.  After all, presidents have a lot to do: there are those pesky constitutional duties, as well as such traditional ceremonies as jogging or cutting brush for the press.  Our current exec certainly has his hands full.  Perhaps religion should be left to the private sector.

We also think that we’re as qualified as anyone else to direct religious exercises; and so we proudly announce the establishment of the Ullage Group National Day of Prayer (the U.G.N.D.P.) as an alternative.  Depending on demand, we may also incorporate fasting and humiliation.  Today, unfortunately, is not an U.G.N.D.P.: you’re on your own, and will have to decide for yourself whether to pray or not.  But check back with us.

(Posted by Doug Skinner)   

“Letters and Numbers,” from the Russell Manufacturing Company, is a curious creation.  It’s essentially an alphabet book; some of the letters are repeated to pad the deck out to 40 cards, which are arranged into four suits (Planet, Moon, Star and Comet) of ten cards each.  Several games are suggested; but children are encouraged to make up their own.

But the pictures are handsome; and the gravure process makes those colors delicious.

(Posted by Doug Skinner)