I feel so lucky that my parent's home has sort of become the informal repository for a large measure of the family history archives. Paging through innumerable albums and digging through boxes of letters, greeting cards, documents, and assorted ephemera provides me with an endless amount of well-intentioned time wasting. It never fails that I brave their garage in order to find some useful tool and instead end up waist-deep in a genealogical avalanche of my own making - ours is less a family tree and more a family quicksand pit.
I find it all fascinating but take particular interest in the photos. It is wonderful to see pictures of one's grandparents as school children. It is hilarious to see one's parents as awkward teenagers. It is in equal measure interesting and unsettling to stumble across a picture of an unknown and distant relative only to realize that he is the genetic explanation for one's crooked teeth and nose. It is even more disturbing to discover a picture of one's great-great grandfather as he lie peacefully in his coffin with a spray of calla lilies trembling on the verge of their own demise.
Hiya, Gramps! Not feeling too well, huh?
Even better than the photograph, is the fact that it was turned into a postcard - ostensibly
as a souvenir for the mourning friends and family who were unable to attend the funeral.
Is it better or worse do you think, the obviousness of his condition in this photograph rather than the slightly earlier photos of the Victorian-era bodies lovingly propped up into startlingly-lifelike positions and situations? "Be damned cholera, this husband and wife loved to recite the works of Shakespeare by lamplight," they seem to say from beyond the grave. It is all so delightfully ghastly.
I never considered my family particularly macabre but we grew up with several reminders of death around the house, including this little gem.
"At Rest"
This Victorian coffin plaque/casket plate continues to hang on the bath...er, restroom door.
I definitely come by my appreciation for the absurd honestly.
Do you have any family photos of this nature? Do they spook you or intrigue you? However you feel about post-mortem photos, we hope that you have a picture-perfect Halloween!
Outside of California (and maybe some parts of Tennessee), the name Huell Howser probably doesn't mean very much. Within our borders, however, it is a venerated name that invariably elicits a smile and/or a goofy impression. Just about everyone in California does a Huell Howser impression (to varying degrees of accuracy/success), with everyone thinking their impression is the best. A native son of Tennessee (with the accent to prove it), he moved to California in 1981 as a television news reporter and quickly became the unofficial, one-man Chamber of Commerce for our entire state.
Huell Howser
(October 18, 1945 - January 6, 2013)
Best known for his PBS series, "California's Gold," Huell had a folksy charm and guileless innocence that gave him entree into countless businesses, museums, homes, landmarks, monuments, parks, restaurants, and the hearts of history lovers and wacky tacky-ites all over the state. It was with great sadness that we learned he passed away last night at the age of sixty seven.
To be honest (and it might be obvious by now), Huell is a huge hero of mine. Whenever anybody asked me what my dream job would be, I always said, "Huell Howser's;" he showed us everything in our state that makes it so uniquely fun and fascinating.
His sunny disposition and optimism made him watchable.
His restored, mid-century volcano house made him wacky tacky!
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If you needed further proof...
Dolly, Huell & Loretta
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It is funny that it took a Southerner to remind us of the vitality and excitement of our western landscape; I guess that sometimes it takes a keen and objective eye and the wonder of a child to show you the beauty of your own hometown/state.
Growing up in Southern California, Huell has been a fixture of our regular family viewing since my earliest days. Indeed, in the war for the remote control, "Visiting," "Videolog," and "California's Gold" were always the unspoken, entertainment peace treaty. Huell's show and his unbridled enthusiasm are the unquestionable inspiration for our desire to explore, create, report, and celebrate the joy that surrounds us. As my mom said, "It felt like he did nothing but go around and bring out the good in people and places...he will be missed. We need more people like him on the earth...take the bad ones away and leave the Huell Howsers of the world." Even though his place of birth was Gallatin, TN he was truly a part of California's gold.
Many celebrities pass every year; some deaths are a surprise, some are tragic, and some come sweetly at the end of a long life well-lived. Few have left me feeling more sad than good old Huell's. In general, I'm not one to experience disproportionate emotion over things not directly related to my family. In fact, in a world rocked by mass killings and war, it feels strange (and self-indulgent) to be so sad over the death of someone I have never met, but this one has hit me hard. I keep thinking of the illustration of Mickey Mouse (his head the globe) crying over the death of Walt Disney. In my mind, I can see a similar image of California mourning the loss of our patron saint, Huell Howser. Huell stood for something good in this world; his was an example of positivity and light that helped me not be swallowed by the hate and ugliness that can exist. As has been said, "All the darkness in the world can not extinguish the light of a single candle." He gave hope to those of us who want to preserve a sense of our past. He legitimized the old buildings, landmarks, watering holes, and traditions of California's rich heritage. He gave credence to the notion that exploring your own backyard for a living was not just acceptable but of great import. As was the tradition on his show, we close this post with the song "California, Here I Come," this time as performed by Huell himself.
R.I.P. Huell Howser
Cheers!
Mr. Tiny
p.s. For local readers, I would love to find a time and place to get together and remember Huell and celebrate his legacy. In my mind, Clifton's is the most obvious choice but it is still under renovation. Pink's, Philippe's, Palm Springs...I'm open to suggestions.
UPDATE: You are invited to our unofficial, wacky tacky Huell Howser memorial to be held on Sunday, January 13, 2013 at 2:00pm at Philippe's in downtown Los Angeles. We'll meet there for food, fun, prizes, and sharing our best memories of our pal, Huell. This is an informal gathering of wacky tacky and Huell Howser fans and is a totally unsponsored event. Philippe the Original 1001 Alameda Blvd. Los Angeles, CA
Please let us know if you are interested in raising a glass of Broguiere's to our wacky tacky friend and icon too.
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