Crazy Crafty: Rootin' Tootin' Cowboy Twine Holder or The Five Stages of Crafter's Grief

Whenever I am struck with the urge to get crazy crafty, I am reminded that I am not a true crafter.  For a true crafter would never question the act of spending time and money on something that is of negligible value and/or utility, a practice around which I can never fully wrap my mind.  And yet, I still persist on burning my extremities with hot glue, dulling precious sewing shears on paper, and using cotton balls for every purpose except their intended one.  What is a cotton ball's intended purpose anyway?  I can say with some certainty that whatever the purpose, it is probably not for gluing to a miniature, hand-painted garden gnome in order to create the lamb in your all-gnome (g)nativity scene - true story.  Realizing only now that cotton is a bit of an ironic choice to recreate a woolen coat, I must disclose that I hate the feeling of cotton balls; the very touch of a cotton ball and my skin begins to crawl and my tongue folds over sideways.  

With such an aversion to crafts and craft related accessories, I am often tempted to throw in the paint-spattered towel.  After so many "Crazy Crafty" projects, however, I've come to terms with the fact that maybe I'm simply experiencing The Five Stages of Crafter's Grief.

Easy-to-Makes (1966)

Still full of nervous energy from our big night playing with The Lucky Stars, I decided to expend it on some thematically-appropriate crafting.  Turning to that classic volume of elementary-level, seasonal paper crafting, Easy-to-Makes, I came upon a project that suited both my skill-set and my taste for vintage-style cowboy decor.  With spurs jingling-jangling-jingling, in sauntered "The Rootin' Tootin' Twine Holder."  Even the overly-practical, nay-saying crafter within couldn't deny the benefit of a "useful and decorative gift for the entire family."  You're welcome, family. 

Stage 1: Denial - This will be a cinch and won't take any time at all!
"Start with a cylindrical oatmeal, cornmeal, or salt box container to make this useful and decorative gift for the entire family.  With bands of construction paper, dress cowboy in belted blue jeans, fringed chaps, and bright shirt.  He not only hides a ball of twine under his broad-brimmed box-top hat, but he also keeps a small pair of scissors handy in his holster for cutting the twine.  The holster is fastened to the box with a paper fastener.  A fastener inserted next to the hole where the twine is released is used to keep twine from being accidentally pulled and tangled."

Stage 2: Anger - Where is my oatmeal container?!!  Darn it!!!
An oatmeal container would have been the obvious choice but the last time
I bought oatmeal was from Costco; we're still working our way through the
500-pound sack (mostly because the only way I take my oatmeal is in cookie
form).  I did have a couple small canisters of "instant food thickener" (don't ask)
that were just waiting for the right makeover moment.  Perfect...?

This is the point when I reached Stage 3: Bargaining - If I just get a proper container, then I will be true to the craft's origins and all my family's worries will end as they can finally stop wondering how to hide that hideous spool of twine while still keeping it ever at the ready.  Honestly, I almost talked myself into running to the grocery store and buying even more oatmeal just so I could empty the carton and use it for this project.  I quickly realized that even I am not that foolish.  Instead, I settled on the fact that this was to be a Rootin' Tootin' Double-Chambered Twine Holder.  I adhered the bottom of the two containers together so the snap-on lids faced out, both remaining functional.  It was now time for some decorating...and the next stage of crafter's grief!

Stage 4: Depression - Why am I doing this?  I just can't go on.
Do you ever reach a moment about halfway through a project when you question the ridiculous amount of time you're investing and wonder how you turned into that weird pre-middle-aged man gluing paper scraps to used food canisters?  Me too.  I'm pretty sure I took what was meant to be a ten-minute project for children and turned it into my magnum craft opus - the two-piece lid/hat alone took a good twenty minutes!!!  It all started with the blue jeans; blue jeans are supposed to have patch pockets so I added a couple with gold "topstitching."  Instead of a plain shirt, I dug deep in the paper reserves and found sticky-backed red gingham that I highlighted with two pearl snaps, a yellow vest, and a polka-dot scarf tie.  The fringed chaps are supposed to be woolies, which obviously required variation in color/shape/texture (and at least another twenty minutes).  I actually sewed the scissor holster on the sewing machine before studding it with rhinestones and attaching it to the grosgrain-ribbon belt.  I even finished the two holes from which the twine is pulled with tiny, brass eyelets.  For the sake of time, I won't go into the time spent on the hands, arms, hair, and face! 

Once the decoration was completed, I had another brief flash of, "What is this all for?"  Even after loading the top portion with baker's twine and the lower portion with everyday string, I questioned the use of my time and resources.  The minute I saw that face, however, I knew I had reached the final stage of crafter's grief.

Stage 5: Acceptance - Well, howdy, Lil' Tex!  Welcome to the "Crazy Crafty" family!
As a "useful and decorative gift for the entire family," a huge problem is solved.  I guess "I'll string along with you."

"I'll String Along With You" - Dick Powell

The one nice thing about Lil' Tex is that he can be adapted for a number of uses.  There's no reason say that, instead of twine, he couldn't hold your cowboy belt buckles, or your envelopes of baby-rattlesnake eggs, or the rolls of caps for your cap pistol.  The possibilities are endless!

What about you, are you crazy crafty?  Have we provided sufficient inspiration to motivate you to make a Rootin' Tootin' Cowboy Twine Holder of your very own?  Have you experienced the five stages of crafter's grief?  If so, please let wacky tacky be your craft-grief counselor!

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

wacky tacky Tunes: The Lucky Stars

Whether they accept it or not, every person in my family is musical; from drums to piano, guitar to saxophone, ukulele to cornet, accordion to singing and songwriting, music is in our bones.  When one of us finds a band or composition that we like (be it opera, Hawaiian, or Sousa March), it is a surefire guarantee that the rest of us will likely follow suit.  And while our musical tastes vary in the extreme, there is a collective memory and shared sentimentality that bind us musically.

An image of my maternal grandfather as a baby.
He rests on his father's knee alongside the guitar that
would inspire the musical future of his progeny.
(Oklahoma, approx. 1922-23)

Perhaps it is because our great-grandfather was an Okie guitar player (who according to family apochrypha, turned down an opportunity to play with the legendary Bob Wills), that one of our shared musical affinities is Western Swing and cowboy music.  As a native Californian of Yugoslavian descent who neither smokes, sleeps under starry skies, nor has ridden anything more bucking than a carousel bronco in the better part of three decades, I certainly make an unlikely cowboy.  Nevertheless, I know what I like and I love The Lucky Stars.  Needless to say, my whole family does too.

"Go To Town" - The Lucky Stars

Last weekend, in what can only be described as the best birthday present ever, Tiny & Mary were asked to open for The Lucky Stars at their "Go To Town" album-release party.  Fortunately, our pal, Kyle, of Ellison Studio photography was on hand to beautifully capture the moonlit magic as I was in much too much of a euphoric haze to even consider operating a camera.

Tiny & Mary
(photo courtesy of Ellison Studio)

Accurately touted as "Hoolywood's full-bore, rompin', stompin' honky tonk outfit," The Lucky Stars are truly the best and most-accurate representation of honest-to-goodness Western Swing available today.  What makes them unparalleled, in our opinion, is their musical versatility.  With roots in punk, garage, rockabilly, jazz, and American vernacular music, and with a mastery of multiple instruments, members of the band bring a musical vocabulary so extensive and an ear so finely tuned that greatness is really the only option.

With guitarist, vocalist, and inimitable songwriter, Sage, at the reins,  The Lucky
Stars are definitely in good hands.  Wittily transforming Western story-telling into
a fine art via original tunes filled with the most clever lyrics, we've dubbed him
the Cole Porter of the prairie!
(photo courtesy of Ellison Studio)

Dan, Dan the Fiddle Man will effortlessly switch between fiddle
and horn and back again...sometimes within the same song!
(photo courtesy of Ellison Studio)

On drums and vocals, Pappy Stuckey always brings
the spirit of the old-timey greats to the bandstand!
(photo courtesy of Ellison Studio)

Standard or steel, Russ is at home on on any guitar!
(photo courtesy of Ellison Studio)

Wally might be able to hide in the shadow of his big bass fiddle but there
is no hiding the white-hot light of his playing under a proverbial bushel!
(photo courtesy of Ellison Studio)

With the flexibility of the best improvisationalists, The Lucky Stars will always make room
for guest stars.  It is a particular thrill when the guest instrumentalist just happens to be play-
ing the undisputed king of wacky tacky instruments - the accordion!!!
(photo courtesy of Ellison Studio) 

Committed to an authentic sound that keeps dancers on their feet, The Lucky Stars transition seamlessly between classic covers and incredible original tunes.  Perpetuating the art of Western music, it is a great pleasure to experience a band whose sole agenda is putting joy in every note and a smile on every face!

"All Shapes and Sizes" - The Lucky Stars

You don't have to be a cowboy (rhinestone or otherwise) to appreciate The Lucky Stars.  All you need is a working set of ears and toes that tap in time!  With multiple members in multiple bands, coordinating The Lucky Stars can be quite the feat.  Playing myriad festivals at home and abroad, if you see that they are playing in a honky tonk near you don't walk, run to see The Lucky Stars!   The first time and every time you see this band perform, you'll find yourself wanting more; be sure to order a copy of their latest and greatest, "Go To Town."

You will thank your "lucky stars" you did!
(Source)

While you're feeling thankful, we too must thank Kyle of Ellison Studio for sharing his lovely images and unmatched photography skills.  Riding pretty high on the thrill of playing with our musical heroes, Tiny & Mary are still thanking our own lucky stars for The Lucky Stars!

theluckystars.com

ellisonstudio.com

The Lucky Stars on Facebook

Ellison Studio Photography on Facebook

Tiny & Mary on Facebook

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Hollywood House Hunting: Finding The Wonder Years

For Americans, November is a month dedicated to gratitude.  Veterans' Day offers us the chance to be grateful to members of our armed forces, recognizing them for the innumerable sacrifices associated with their service.  And while it is being ever more co-opted by greedy retailers, Thanksgiving is the holiday we have collectively consecrated for counting our blessings.  There is so much for which we at wacky tacky are grateful and one of those things is good, old-fashioned nostalgia.  Nostalgia is the very fuel for the wacky tacky fire and, in a way, this blog is my method of expressing my thanks.  

I've realized lately that I have aged to the point where I am starting to get nostalgic for my own youth.  This has created a weird paradigm because many of the programs I watched in my youth were themselves shows about nostalgia, not the least of which was The Wonder Years.  I find myself layered in compound nostalgia when recalling The Wonder Years because it was a show about family that we always watched together as a family.  Gathered around a hand-me-down television, I remember splitting my time between watching the show and watching my dad watch the show.  Of an age that would have made him a contemporary of Kevin Arnold, The Wonder Years allowed my dad the luxury of vicariously reliving some of the sweetest moments of his youth.  Rapt with nostalgia, I can still hear my folks humming along with the music and saying, "Oh, we had a stove just like that," and "We were the first on the block to get a color TV."  Is it absurd to think with a fair measure of confidence that my dad's inner monologue is voiced by Daniel Stern?

The Wonder Years (1988-1993)

We are lucky enough to have reels and reels of 

similarly-styled home movies shot by my grandpa.

For as much affinity as I have for the show, I will admit to never being fully satisfied with the outcome of The Wonder Years.  Call me corny, but *SPOILER ALERT*, Kevin and Winnie should have ended up together.  I am not the kind of person who really appreciates vagaries, loose ends, or complicated endings.  If you ever find yourself wondering what I value in my entertainment, you can be sure that it is pure, unadulterated fantasy.  Don't get me wrong; I'll allow my favorite shows to be riddled with conflict as long as the end sees everything tied up in a nice, neat, symmetrical bow.

As thankful as I am for the nostalgic storytelling of The Wonder Years, I do have a couple of gripes.  Jack should've softened and lived into old age so he could enjoy his grandchildren and celebrate the success of his wife. Wayne should've...well, Wayne did okay; taking over his old man's furniture business was probably as good as it was going to get for Wayne.  I think that life can be so scary, so unpredictable, so messy that, if just for one moment of make-believe, the promise of an Arnold-Cooper union would have made the world seem right.  I want what skeptics view as unattainable perfection; I can appreciate that it might seem naive, but I embrace the belief that if we aim for the moon and fail, at least we'll end up amongst the stars.

The Arnold family at home

At the very least, we'll end up amongst the homes of the stars.  In this case, the home of the Arnold family, nestled in the charming, suburban sprawl of Burbank, CA.  Included on our list of blessings-to-count is the fact that, more than twenty years after the show's finale, the Arnold home remains virtually unchanged.  From the white shutters, to the patchy front lawn, to the hedgerow, that edifice was so comforting in its familiarity that as we pulled up could almost hear Kevin asking Norma, "Hey mom, What's for dinner?"  We could almost see Winnie and Paul waving to us from the curb.

Cynthia giving us her very best Paul Pfeiffer
The roof has been replaced and a few windows have been updated, but number 516 is unmistakably Arnold.

Like many others, I'm fully aware that very rarely does life follow the escapist story lines of our dreams.  I can't say with any surety whether it happens slowly or in the blink of an eye, but I know how the magic veil of childhood innocence is lifted with age.  I know what it is like when, in an instant, life changes forever.  I know loss.  I suppose it is the harsh realities of life that make us more profoundly grateful for the moments of light, and laughter, and joy.  And while I feel like a late-bloomer still working through some of the challenges of finding my place in the world, I must remember to pause and give thanks for my story line thus far.  I must remember the blissful days of one imperfect family gathering to watch and relate to the struggles and triumphs of another imperfect family.  It is funny how something as simple as a television house can elicit such gratitude for my very own wonder years.

The Arnold Family Home

516 University Ave

Burbank, CA

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Sew What?! Sketching A Showgirl

I am of the completely-unqualified opinion that everyone has at least a little bit of OCD.  Whenever I become self-conscious of my own bizarre behavior, all I have to do is observe the "highly-questionable" conduct of others and silently express my gratitude for not being totally out of control like the lady I saw on TV who must perform every task on an even minute (e.g. 12:20 flush the toilet, 7:38 turn on the light, 9:44 lock the door, etc.), or my friend who counts his steps (ten steps to the front door, twenty-three to the car).  I am so forgetful that I am lucky to remember to lock the door, let alone count down to the appropriate tick of the clock, and so lazy that I max out around fifty steps before I call it a day.  I suppose we're all lucky that our own little exhibitions of compulsive behavior don't seem that weird to us.  One odd way in which my OCD manifests is in designing/creating a sewing project, especially when it is a Halloween costume!

Until I begin cutting and sewing, I will endlessly sketch pictures of the design concept.
Unable to focus on any other form or figure, I will obsessively draw and redraw the same (or
similar) image over and over and over again on almost any available surface - napkins, shopping
lists, envelopes, paper plates, bills; nothing is safe.

Like obsessively...
I think the only reason I sew (a practice I've always viewed as a necessary evil), is simply to get the
idea out of my head and into real life, finally allowing myself move on to the next great obsession.

Creative sewing can sometimes mean releasing conceptual control and allowing the materials to dictate the direction a project will take.  Burdened with yards and yards of a ruby red, swap-meet-quality fabric that we'll refer to as velveteen (more like flocked "velvette" or something akin to those weird moleskin-type, inflatable neck pillows used for flying), and a couple yards of floral, raspberry brocade, it was obvious that Mary's Halloween costume would have to be some kind of showgirl.  The saturated hues of the velveteen and floral brocade were crying out, "Make us a saloon girl!"  Not willing to abdicate total power, however, I thought about something a little less specific - western influenced maybe, but hopefully evoking a bit of Hollywood glamour as well.

After nearly a zillion rough drafts, this was the final design, very
much inspired by showgirl costumes of '40s cinema.

Sure, there have been far better and far more elaborate showgirl costumes but I was actually pretty proud of myself for this design - mostly because the only thing I had to purchase was the zipper and, unable to find anything suitable, I drafted my very own pattern.  Having absolutely no technical knowledge of legitimate pattern drafting, I used Mr. Tiny's tried and true hope-and-pray method.  I was even more proud of myself that, however far from perfect, I only had to make a couple of minor pattern adjustments before cutting into the fabric. 

Breaking out every bit of red fabric and and red trim I could find, I
learned that every value of red matches if one just uses them all.

The majority of the fully-lined, boned, strapless, one-piece garment was made of the velveteen, featuring the brocade at the center panel.  The princess seams were finished by a red gimp studded with red rhinestones.  The bust was adorned with two-layer bow and the seat was finished with a giant detachable bow and tails.  The choker was a remnant piece of velvet ribbon tied at the nape of the neck.    I even got ambitious and made a matching drawstring purse.  After having made them for at least two other "Sew What?!" projects, I still couldn't get past the water wing/arm floaties; I think they finish the costume in a far superior fashion to some corny, store-bought gloves.  With the body of the costume well under way, it was time for me to tackle the headpiece.

Always the dreamer, I had visions of a giant headdress with a towering arrangement of ostrich plumes.
Given my millinery budget of zero dollars and zero cents, I settled instead on the two random pheasant feathers from my stash; already red, if a little dark, I gave them the old rattle can once over.  Built upon a fabric-covered buckram frame, the hat's bottom layer is a gathered length of red, nylon netting.  The next layer is the raspberry brocade trimmed in pom poms, topped by the red velveteen adorned with red rhinestones, and followed by a final spray of red netting.  

Hoping to teach Mary some kind of responsibility (insert laughter - or maybe sad trombone - here), I put her in charge of stockings and shoes.  Let's just say that the day before Halloween I was driving her around town looking for nude fishnet stockings; on the day of Halloween, the Imelda Marcos of the Americas still hadn't figured out her shoe situation.  In what must have been her attempt to elicit an anxiety-induced coronary, she handed me a pair of the most random, lucite-heeled, yellowing, plastic mules I had ever seen.  I immediately reverted to my hope-and-pray method for an extreme shoe makeover.

The silver insole notwithstanding, these turned out better than I thought.
Honestly, I should have taken a before picture.

I covered the heel and the strap in velveteen, having the exact length
 of leftover gimp trim to finish the raw edges (how's that for a Halloween
 miracle?).  Never satisfied to leave well-enough alone, I of course made
bows to match! 

The funniest part about this design is that I'm normally not one to make costumes that might be deemed provocative.  In the best of circumstances, I am wholly confused by the parade of overly-sexualized costumery (as outlined yearly by our pal, Kimmie) that marches forth during the Halloween season.  The fact that this costume is rather bare didn't even occur to me until we were at our friends' unbelievably-awesome and atmospheric Halloween party where I caught a couple of creepers ogling Ol' Stretch.

Rather than "sexiness," the intention of this costume was about invoking the spirit of
Annette at The Golden Horseshoe and other similar cinematic showgirls; I think it worked!

Well, what do you think?  Was the obsessive sketching worth the effort?  What was your costume this year - tell the truth, was it sexy?  More importantly, did you Trick-or-Treat?

"Trick-or-Treat" (1952)

We hope that whatever you wore and whatever you did, your Halloween nightmares dreams all came true!  We're already excitedly planning for next year!  HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Sew What?! It's Just the Gypsy in My Soul

It has been well established that my Halloween costumes must be little more than glorified pajamas.  I wholeheartedly approve of entirely-over-the-top, full-scale, costume productions...for other people.  Mile-high hair, crazy make-up, props, functioning electronics, and masks that make sight a total impossibility, all melt my Halloween-loving heart.  But as someone who has made quite a habit of sitting comfortably, entering and exiting cars without major incident, walking at a brisk pace (sweating as a result), and seeing where I am going, I require something ridiculously simple, something elasticized, something in which I can hide my lumps, my bumps, AND all of the candy I sneak from the candy bowl.  These are the exact reasons I so love the forgiving Halloween costumes of the Art Deco era.

Not so much a costume as a dunce cap and a crepe-paper smock, one is
rarely able to discern exactly what the wearer intended to be.  But darn
him if he doesn't look festive!

I love that whatever the intention, the costume is usually fabricated in the classic Halloween color story of orange, black, and white.  I also love that from fairy princess to wizard to Juliet, practically everyone gets the Jack-O-Lantern treatment.

Finding inspiration in old patterns and illustrations from The Dennison's 
Bogie Book, and knowing that our Halloween plans include a perennially-
awesome, vintage Halloween party, I decided that this year I would be a gypsy.

Not having gone as a gypsy vagabond since the year my mom declared that the same costume I'd worn for the past two years (first as "pirate" and then as "artist") would work equally well as gypsy, I figured that this was my year to take back ownership of the costume.  This year I will be the Halloween gypsy I've always wanted to be - not the humiliating "pirartsy" that was so cruelly forced on me for three years in a row.

You see?  I'm clearly NOT a pirate.
(That's a gypsy earring)

That's right...no pirates here!

I'm almost positive that the pirate code strictly forbids trimmings
that are even slightly "pom pom" in nature and clearly the vest is
just dripping with those gypsy-esque danglers. 

Sticking with Halloween's tried-and-true colors, I made balloon-legged pants in black and a tassel-trimmed sash and head scarf in an orange-and-black stripe.  I had every intention of making my own gypsy tunic but realized how much easier it would be to customize an underutilized, white, dress shirt by hacking off the lower half of the sleeves and attaching gathered puff sleeves, but not without incident...

Sewing for the better part of two decades without injury, I always wondered
how those "I sewed through my finger" dummies managed to do it.  Well,
this costume taught me how.  Fortunately, my finger and hand remain intact
and the injury necessitated nary a pirate hook. 

As I was removing the shirt from beneath the presser foot, my own foot slipped, hitting the pedal and sending the needle right through my finger.  Reacting to my ouch response more quickly than I could understand what had happened, I immediately yanked my hand away.  In doing so, I broke the needle off into my finger - all in a day's work for a gypsy.

I convalesced by painting a non-pirate, gypsy-inspired pumpkin patch (get it?)
for the back of the vest, paying tribute to the costumes of yore and matching
my Crazy Crafty, Jack-O-Lantern, lantern staff.

What me, pirate?
Now that I'm fully recovered, I'm feeling quite fancy free and have a
desperate urge to wander.  Perhaps, it's just "The Gypsy in My Soul."

"The Gypsy in My Soul" - Perry Como

After much (gypsy) soul searching to the mellow crooning of Mr. Como, I suppose I am willing to concede that pirates are basically just scurvy-ridden water gypsies, so I guess my mom wasn't so far off-base...  

I hope you're ready for Halloween, because it is right around the corner!  What will you be on October 31?

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Museum of the Weird: An Evening with Rolly Crump

How familiar are you with this face?

If you are one of the legions of hardcore Disney dorks with whom I unintentionally seem to surround myself, then you probably recognize this as the face of longtime, Disney artist and Imagineer, Rolly Crump.  If unaware of Mr. Crump's contributions to the world, one need look only as far as the 1964 New York World's Fair, It's a Small World, The Enchanted Tiki Room (a personal favorite), and The Haunted Mansion.  Crump's influence is all over Disneyland and, while all of his work garners copious praise, it is his concept art for The Haunted Mansion that really gained him a cult following. 

Rolly Crump describes the Museum of the Weird 

and his contributions to The Haunted Mansion

As anyone who has ridden the Haunted Mansion Ride at Disneyland knows, the Museum of the Weird (developed from 1964-65), as described by Rolly, never really came to fruition.  Elements of his designs are definitely found throughout the darkest of all Disney dark rides, but ardent fans of the weird have continually clamored for a proper Museum of the Weird.

Rolly working on models for the Museum of the Weird

I'm such a sucker for miniatures that if we can't have a full-scale MOTW,
 I'd be satisfied with a display like this at the ride's exit!
(Source)

Alerted to a "Museum of the Weird" tribute art show at the gallery/collectible store, Creature Features, in Burbank, we hopped in the wacky wagon for an evening with the master.

We figured that, at the very least, an art show is usually good for
crudités and a cool drink, but Rolly Crump was actually there "in person!"

Well over thirty artists presented works that paid tribute to Crump's concept art, often transforming what was only a pencil sketch into a fully-realized, three-dimensional art piece.

From paper sculpture to ceramics, paintings, carved reliefs, sculpture, and
dioramas, there was plenty of proof that Rolly's work never fails to inspire! 

Like the first Reese' Peanut Butter Cup in a plastic pumpkin, the "Museum of the Weird" art show really ushered in the Halloween season for the wacky tacky adventure team.  It was a particular treat to attend the opening night of this show, as not one but two of the brilliant art pieces were contributed by amazingly-talented friends.

Our pals, Kevin & Jody, built the nine-foot-tall "Tower of the Weird."

(Source)

The literal centerpiece of the show, the tower was
faithfully built according to Crump's illustration.

Crump's "Aquarium with Ghost Fish" sketch was the inspiration for our ingenious friend, Suzy's, "Doomquarium."

We were especially proud of Suzy as this was the first piece of the evening to be sold!  

Lucky (and maybe just a little odd) is the person who took this home!

(Source)

Equally famous for his post-Disney career, Crump continues to inspire fans with work that is sometimes subversive and always off-beat, far-out, and totally weird.  As with all creepy adventures through The Haunted Mansion, the Museum of the Weird, and even tribute art shows at Creature Features, it is paramount to obey that ominous warning...

"Beware of hitchhiking ghosts!"

"The Haunted Mansion" soundtrack

Creature Features

2904 W Magnolia Blvd

Burbank, CA

(818)842-8665

creaturefeatures.com

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Kitsch-en Kounter: Apple Pie Without Cheese Is Like A Kiss Without A Squeeze

As I am like to do, I was recently watching a rerun of I Love Lucy in which Lucy offers Fred a slice of apple pie with a "big ol' hunk of cheese" on it.  I was immediately reminded of the saying that has been handed down through generations of my mom's family, "Apple pie without cheese is like a kiss without a squeeze."  Very much akin to, "They go together like bacon & eggs," apple pie and cheddar cheese used to be such an ordinary and inseparable flavor profile that it had its own saucy little epigram.  Somehow, somewhere along the line, cheese lost out to its oh so à la mode cousin, à la mode (since when did a scoop of ice cream become so fashionable?).  How, in such a short time, did what was once so commonplace become completely forgotten to the contemporary palate?  Why, I wonder, did this all-American culinary combo fall so far out of f(l)avor?

Immortalized in a 1956 ad for Miss Wisconsin Cheddar
Cheese, the long-lost dynamic duo of desserts
(Source)

The only eatery I've ever visited that offers the apple pie/cheese taste sensation is the world-famous Du-Par's (serving the Los Angeles area for over 75 years).  Just out of high school, on our very first visit to  The Original Farmers Market location, my friends and I were receiving less-than-stellar service from a crusty, old waitress who had been slinging hash for the better part of her 100 years and wasn't about to waste any charm on a bunch of snotty-nosed bad-tippers (a valid supposition, I guess).  After ignoring our table for the entirety of our meal, she came to present the bill and ask in a bitter monotone if we had "saved any room for dessert."  One member of our party who had been looking at the dessert offerings bellowed in disgust, "Yech, apple pie with cheese?!?!?!!!"  Before the waitress could use the rest of her limited strength to lunge across the table and strangle my dining companion, I jumped in with, "Of course!  My mom always said, 'Apple pie without cheese is like a kiss without a squeeze'" (I've always been a bit of a brown-noser).  The change in countenance between the wizened, old waitress and the newly-beatific server was staggering as she quickly became my new best friend.  Knowing all too well the classic pie pairing, she was thrilled to learn a new saying (one that she could use to boost sales), that she brought us a free piece of pie - with cheese!

Tis the season for all things apple, so Mr. Tiny went apple picking (picking the
best apples from the giant apple mound at the grocery totally counts) with pie in mind.
Using a mix of Fuji and Granny Smith apples, I quickly learned why pie seems like
such a special-occasion treat -  peeling and slicing a bushel of apples stinks!

How though, beyond serving the most pedestrian of pies with a single sliver of cheddar cheese, could I recreate the classic American sweet-and-savory dessert dynamo?  It didn't take long before I realized that the king of all cheese crackers would be the perfect vehicle for such a long-awaited flavor reunion.  Like so many times before, it was Cheez-It to the rescue!

I had heard of a Depression-era, mock-apple pie where Ritz crackers actually served as apple proxy; thinking that a similar technique (resulting in a mouth full of cinnamon-sugar soaked Cheez-Its) might be a bit much, I changed direction and ground the crackers to a fine crumb.

Never having made a proper pie before in my life, I waffled between using cheese cracker crumbs for the pie crust or creating a cheesy crumb topping.  Lousy at decision making, I decided to do both - that's right, cheesy apple pie two ways!!!

The evolution of pie
Using a traditional bottom crust and filling, I made a
Dutch Apple Pie with a Cheez-It/pecan crumble topping. 

Introduced in 1921, the Cheez-Its imparted a subtle-yet-solid cheese flavor to the Dutch Apple Pie (are you listening Netherlands?  I've improved your namesake pie!).  While I thought this creation was both tasty and mildly clever, the pie was neither quite as impactful nor as wacky tacky as I knew we could get.  C'mon Cheez-Its, don't fail me now!

I made the base of the second pie in the same fashion as a graham-cracker
crust, using instead Cheez-It crumbs and only a scant amount of sugar.

This pie was filled with the same traditional filling as the first and baked, tented in foil so the apples would not dry out.  After it cooled, it was piled high with homemade, cinnamon whipped cream.  I don't know if it is smart or insanely masochistic to constantly make desserts to which I am highly intolerant (dairy is most assuredly not my friend).

Wanting to get a little fancy and invite a bit of genuine cheese to these pie proceedings,
I made crispy, cheddar cheese/parmesan tuiles to decorate the top of the pie.

With plenty of pie on hand and a favorite cousin visiting from Texas (Yeehaw! Cuzzin Bobbi!!!), the only logical thing to do was throw an impromptu dinner party.

Cuzzin Bobbi, Nick, Cynthia, Lauren, Mr. Tiny, and Mary (taking the photo)
gathered around the old, family table to break bread.  But dinner was a mere
formality, dessert was definitely the star of this show.

With a diverse range of palates surrounding the table, the results as to which pie was best were decidedly mixed.  Lauren, an inveterate "I don't like my food to touch" purist, favored the Dutch Apple Pie.  Cynthia, a world-class extreme eater with adventurous taste buds, gave the prize to the cheese tuiles and Cheez-It crust.  I was so interested in finding out what everyone else thought, that I didn't do my own small sampling until everyone was gone and the dishes were washed.  I love a good mix of sweet/salty/savory and without sounding too self-satisfied, I think the cheese crust is the definite winner!  It's genius inspired everyone at the table to think of other applications for a Cheez-It crust (sweet and savory).

Say "CHEESE!"
The winner, Mr. Tiny and the pie

In any event, after samplings were made of each pie, we collectively came to know the true meaning behind the phrase, "Apple pie without [Cheez-It] is like a kiss without a squeeze [it]!"  Great, now I'm thinking of ways to combine cheese crackers with that sugary, wax-bottled beverage of my youth (remember Squeezits - the drinks that only the cool kids had in their lunches, clearly explaining why I never had one in my lunch?).

Surrounded by loved ones and a bounty of cheesy-apple-pie goodness, I realized that, much like Johnny Appleseed, "the Lord is good to me."  In turn, I feel like I am good to the Sunshine Biscuit Company for giving them a brand new lease on their delicious "baked snack cracker."  In an effort to pay it all forward, I share with you what will undoubtedly become the centerpiece of your holiday festivities.  Give your family what they want this holiday season - Jesus, cheeses, and squeezes!!!

"The Lord is Good to Me" - from Walt Disney's Johnny Appleseed 

Performed by Dennis Day

Are you a Cheez-It fan?  Have you ever had apple pie with cheese?  Did your parents/grandparents hand down the "cheese/squeeze" saying in your family?  Is the apple pie/cheese combo still going strong where you live?  What's the weirdest dessert you've ever concocted (we want to try it)?


Cheers!

Mr. Tiny