I found an Architectural Digest from 1959 a while back in an antique mall, and naturally it has some fantastic images of midcentury design. This one is quite possibly my favorite: the office of Mr. McCulloch, the head honcho at McCulloch Corporation.

Mr. McCulloch’s Private Office, from a 1959 Architectural Digest

The nerve center

The space was designed for McCulloch by the famed modern designer Paul Laszlo, and it’s really quite beautiful. I can’t tell from the pictures what the details are on the wall, but there was some sort of tiled design that must have been stunning.

But the real star of the photo is clearly this desk. It’s just out of this world! Check out those three clunky handsets, each with its own hidey-hole for the cord (I’m sure the cords were tangled in a heap on the floor in no time) and awkwardly placed rotary dial. And the drawers! Someone most likely hand-painted these labels on each one, in that beautiful lettering. The desk is so stuffy and proud to be corporate — we’re across the nation now, you know! We’ve got regions! And that CLASSIFIED drawer, trying to look nonchalant between WESTERN and SOUTHERN.

I also love the giant, menacing portraits on the wall… they look more like somber, elfin, former McCulloch presidents than the president’s children.

When I lived in Seattle, each trip to Disneyland was preceded by an evening spent getting into town and checking in at the hotel. Disneyland had to wait until the morning, but that wasy okay… it was thrilling just to be near Disneyland, even the warm night air was otherworldly to me. Everyone has their own Disneyland routines & rituals, and mine started that night before, in a far corner of the Disneyland Hotel. That’s where, twice a night, they ran the Fantasy Waters show:

It was the perfect thing to feed my building excitement for the next day. It’s gone now. I’m sad it’s not there anymore, but now that I live in California my Disneyland rituals have changed, and I probably wouldn’t make it over to see it very often anyhow. I have about a hundred photos of the show, which is pretty silly — the show isn’t much to look at in static form. Hanford found this for me the other day, and I was thrilled to get to watch the show again. This is the “new” version that was rolled out in the ’90s, so it’s a little sad, but it’s still the Fantasy Waters show. Keep your ears perked for a rare bit of Captain EO. [uploaded by ru42]

100 years of Kellogg’s breakfast advertising all wrapped up in a tasty Flash coating. This should be better than it actually is, but there’s a few gems in there. You can save images if you use the “enlarge image” button first.

[Via The Waffle Whiffer Zone]

Hang in there ’til the end. Whoa nelly! [via Vintage Ads]

The Monsanto House of the Future was part of Disneyland’s Tomorrowland from 1957 until 1967, and was a showcase of what plastics could do. The house was made of eight pre-fabricated plastic pieces; the building was so strong that when the time came for it to be demolished, the wrecking ball bounced right off.

Disneyland’s Monsanto House of the Future, from Daveland

The House of the Future under construction

The Daveland blog has some great pictures from the Goody Clancy architecture firm of the house as it was being constructed. I love the above picture of the completed home — largely because it captures the pastoral feel of the landscaping, which is in such sharp contrast to the modern-as-modern-can-be home. I also love this picture to the left — this time, it’s the contrast of the traditional Sleeping Beauty’s castle in the background against the upstart little plastic building.

The Daveland blog has more pictures, be sure to check them out: Part 1 and Part 2 [via Stuff from the Park]

The Problem:
Carrying grocery bags, while not the worst of life’s trials, is kind of a pain in the butt. And the hands: those plastic handles get mighty uncomfy when you’re carrying cans and cans of Hobo Soup. The bags whack against your legs, unless you hold your arms out awkwardly. Each time you have to hit an elevator button, retreive your keys or open a door means a clumsy minute of bag juggling and rearranging.

The Inspiration:
Hobos. More specifically, the bindlestick. That’s the name for the kerchief-tied bundle at the end of a stick that is the icon of hobo living.

The Solution: the Bindleflop
The Bindleflop lets you carry your groceries, or any handled bags, easily on your shoulder. The Lose Weight Exercise is rested at your shoulder instead of in your palms, making it much easier to go long distances without your hands getting fatigued. Instead of swinging around and whacking into your legs, your bags gently brush against your side. And your hands are free to handle doors, keys, or carry more groceries!

Groceries in a Bindleflop

How to Make Your Very Own Bindleflop:
Take a removable strap from an old laptop case. They typically have metal clips at the end that spin freely. Clip both ends onto a carabiner*. Slip your grocery bags, or any other handled bags, into the carabiner. Slide the Bindleflop onto your shoulder, orienting any bags with squishy stuff (tomatoes, bread) to the outside.

Bindleflop in action

Hanford and I have been kicking around the idea for the Bindleflop for a while now. At first, it was only half-seriously, but we tried it out for the first time last night, and were surprised at how comfortable it was, and how well it worked. Since it’s so easy to grab it on the way out the door (unlike a folding cart), it’s likely to become something we use regularly.

* I grew up in Seattle, where they give you a carabiner along with your first teddy bear when you’re born. I don’t know if they’re as easy to come by in other parts of the world. You can find them at sports stores.

Has your secret dream been to live just like the star of an ’80s daytime soap opera? Well, you’re in luck — because ’80s daytime soap opera star Brenda Dickson’s dream was to help everyone be just like her. In this 1987 relic, she’ll walk you the steps to becoming “very dramatic” — including pointers on fashion, makeup, diet & Lose Weight Exercise.

It’s a long video, so it’s been split into two parts. If you’ve ever seen a completely over-the-top ’80s outfit in a thrift store and wondered “who the hell bought that? and did they actually wear it?” — the answer is: Brenda Dickson bought it, and she not only wore it, she hired somebody to videotape her wearing it.

Read the rest of this entry »

I don’t understand how this game didn’t catch on.

Anticipation at Wikipedia [via Digg]

A few years ago, PBS aired a documentary by Ken Burns, called Horatio’s Drive, about the first time a car was driven from coast-to-coast across the United States. It’s a pretty charming tale, and fun to consider how very different an undertaking it is today.

Dr. Horatio Nelson Jackson

Bud rode shotgun

When Dr. Horatio Nelson Jackson started out on his trip in early 1903, there were only 150 miles of paved road in all of the United States; he had to drive his car on dirt roads, fields and streams. There were no gas stations along Horatio’s drive, no auto shops to get spare parts, no motels to stay during the night. The horseless carriage was still a novelty, and his car had no roof or windshield; a cross-country trip on a riding lawnmower would be more comfortable (and reliable).

Horatio recruited two companions, the first road buddies: a mechanic, and a dog. The dog, named Bud, was picked up early on in the trip, and turned out to be a great dog: he even wore goggles like a road-tested champ. He was “the one member of [the] trio who used no profanity on the entire trip.”

What drove him to such a mad undertaking? A $50 bet in a San Francisco bar that it couldn’t be done.

[Horatio's Drive at PBS.com]

Horatio’s Drive: America’s First Road Trip

I love old-timey characters like the dog in this advertising image below; it’s got a strange quality in its eyes unlike modern cartoons. The label on the can is a bonus. If I could still get this, I would eat it every day.

[Flickr, via A Sampler of Things]