Archive for the ‘Flashbacks’ Category

My Love Affair With Bombers.


2011
10.25

The Flying Fortress

You can blame the movies and Kenner© toys for my childhood Star Wars obsession, but it was all my dad’s fault for getting me into WWII military aircraft, specifically the American B-17 Flying Fortress, B-24 Liberator, and the B-25 Mitchell. He’s a huge WWII buff, and as early as 5–6 years old he already had me watching such wartime classic films as The Longest Day, Bridge On The River Kwai, Tobruk and countless others, which he swore were the best films ever made.

Anyways, here’s some more true gems that I’ve scanned from That ’70s Box, whose page I may as well turn into a blog of its own, since I have so many papers left to scan. Click on either picture for larger images and more info. Unfortunately, neither of them have a date written on them, so I can only guess, judging by the detail, that they were probably done 1978–’79, which was around the time that my dad got me this big, beautifully illustrated coffee table book on American bombers of WWII. Ugh, I wish I could remember which book it was. Nevertheless, that book totally inspired me to take my own fantasy flights on paper.

Once again, thanks to my Mom working as a librarian at UCLA, I had more than enough paper to draw on in my childhood. The drawing below was done on one huge piece of paper which I had to scan in 4 sections and piece together. I labeled it as a 11×17 on Flickr but it’s actually bigger than that.

Flying Fortress Spread 11x17

Enjoy!

It’s Slinky…Or Is It?


2011
09.22

Nearly any ’70s toy will bring me visions of nostalgic grandeur, but not the Slinky. Those guys made it look so easy in the commercial, but I could never get mine to do anything remotely close to what they portrayed (except the “juggling” from hand to hand for that marvelous “Slinkety Sound”—yay).

Perhaps the only form of entertainment I got from those was having a friend hold one end while I walked as far away from him as I could with the other, to see how far it would stretch. Either that, or smelling that wonderful metallic zinc smell on my fingers after handling it. Did you ever get it to “walk down stairs?” I’d love to hear how.

Voices Carry.


2011
09.09

Today I take you back to 1985, when this music video totally won me over with its awesome ending. I mean, the song itself was a hit out of the park, but the video is really what makes it so effective. I’m not much of a music video watcher nowadays, but this still has got to be one of the best endings ever made, IMO.

I wish some couple out there nowadays would have the guts to pull the same stunt at an opera, just for kicks. Wouldn’t it be totally hilarious, especially if they looked the part?

My Millennium Falcon.


2011
07.23

Kenner Milennium Falcon box top

Here’s yet another prized toy from my childhood, which ranks amongst the “Top 5 Most Awesome Things I Ever Owned As A Kid That I Would Never Get Rid of Even If You Payed Me,” if there was ever such a category.

Unfortunately, though, I was never one of those kids that thought, “Hey, maybe 30 years from now I’m gonna still cherish this thing like it was yesterday. I better take good care of it.” No way. I’m just lucky that my dad was (and still is) a packrat. I guess I take after him in that way myself. Heck, look at this thing—it was buried under clutter and junk since the ’80s.

Kenner Millennium Falcon toy

And yes, my dear ducklings, I have the toy too, not just the box. Much to my chagrin, though, it’s missing parts. Ironically, parts that I kept seeing even through my teenage years, strewn in various random locations here and there at my parents’ house. And what would I say? “Oh look, there’s that radar dish from my Falcon. Haha. I remember that. Ok let’s go get some wine coolers.”

These days, like any other 40-something looking to recapture his/her childhood, there’s always Ebay to find those stray parts. I just may be lucky and find all of them. Or, I can find someone ditching their old Millennium Falcon and part it out. Hmm. Sure.

Kenner Millennium Falcon toy detail (undercarriage)

Those tiny mold spots are not from the Falcon’s travels through the Dagobah System, but I can always say they are. They do kinda look like battle damage, right? Or just an acute case of Interstellar Leprosy. Nice going with the ramp there, eh? Good luck holding your breath during Hyperdrive. And gosh darn it, I used to kick around those stray struts like twigs around the house. Geez.

Kenner Millennium Falcon box rear view

Nevertheless, I leave you, for now, with a shot of the back. See that kid’s face? That’s some genuine illustrated freakin’ bliss right there. Yes siree. I’m telling you, the Millennium Falcon was like the Rolls-Royce of toys in ’79–’80. I bet if you took a montage of every single kid’s facial expression when they received that toy those days, we would all look exactly like that illustrated kid, helmet-headed and everything.

If you haven’t yet taken the opportunity to click the pics, you may do so now at your leisure. They will bring you to my Flickr Photostream, where many more pics of the toy and box are awaiting your much-needed attention. Enjoy and have a great weekend.

Totally Spaced Out.


2011
06.17

As a child whose mind constantly travelled to galaxies far, far away (and still does today), there was probably no better place to play in the ’70s than local playgrounds and schoolyards on L.A.’s Westside, which were usually outfitted with a variant of one of these (courtesy of Plaid Stallions):

Yes, the almighty multi-stage rocket ship was the veritable beacon of ’70s playgrounds, and by far the most popular amongst the kids. Boys and girls of all ages loved climbing up through the stages and sliding down that long, lustrous zinc metal slide (which served as both a sizzling hotplate and blinding mirror in the summer time), while others (like myself) tried their hardest to Bogart the topmost stage, where one could sit atop our world…and dream of traveling to other worlds. Sometimes there was even some sort of steering wheel fixture up there, as if to allow one to “drive” the rocket, although I could never figure out why a rocket would have one.

Apparently, Space-Themed Playgrounds were a big thing in the ’70s, and for good reason—we were ahead in the Space Race (insert “USA! USA!” patriotic chant here). In fact, rocket ships were so prevalent on L.A.’s Westside, I couldn’t remember when a park or schoolyard didn’t have one.

Lately, though, I did recover some old pictures of my playful pastime, and happily rediscovered another old dear friend—the Lunar Lander. You’ll see from the ad below that this was another marketed must-have for Space-Age sandboxes (also courtesy of Plaid Stallions).

The lunar lander, though maybe not as tall and imposing as the 3-stage rocket, did provide its own brand of extra-terrestrial entertainment. I especially loved its landing pads, and applauded the manufacturer’s effort to faithfully replicate a real lunar module in this aspect (um, yeah, not like that stupid steering wheel). Even the ladders leading up from the pads were convincingly stylized, and offered hours of otherworldly charm. Note that the aforementioned ad heralds a “new, safer design” which eliminated these ladders. Anyways, here’s a picture of yours truly, poised confidently within the “unsafe” original open ladder design, somewhere on Los Angeles’ Westside, circa 1976-’77.

Lunar Lander playground equipment

I really loved playing on the lunar lander. I remember allotting quite some time to dig the sand out from beneath the landing pads, perhaps hoping to find that the lander was indeed merely sitting atop the sandy martian surface, waiting for someone like myself to eventually cart it away into my own backyard. Of course, my fantasies were flushed by the rough, rocky surface of a concrete core which permanently grounded my beloved buddy to the earth. You’ll notice that the one in these photographs is not on top of sand, but rather that black, hard rubber jigsaw-pieced puzzle of safety that prevented us ’70s kids from cracking our heads open if we ever fell from the apparatus.

One odd aspect of the lander which I didn’t pay much mind to until now was the red shaft protruding from the middle of the craft. It looks to me now like a laser guidance system which would point out the precise location of landing and transmit its GPS coordinates to Command Control. Back then though, I wonder if I ever questioned why the manufacturer didn’t put a big thruster nozzle/cone in its place. Believe me, I was a total NASA nerd so I wouldn’t be surprised if I did.

Here’s another odd aspect of the photographs—what is that black briefcase doing on the playground?

Lunar Lander playground equipment

Sigh. Sadly enough, all of these galvanized giants would be extinct by the mid-’80s here in L.A., but will live forever (hopefully) here on Lefty Limbo and other sites like Plaid Stallions, dedicated to preserving delights from the most decadent decade ever.

Update: My friends, I am happy to say that I’ve found a real live surviving specimen of the rocket, and it’s nearby at Los Arboles/Rocketship Park in Torrance, CA. And get this—it’s got FOUR stages, that weird “steering wheel” thing, and a Lunar Lander right next to it! CLICK HERE to get there in Warp Speed!.

More drawings.


2011
06.07

Even more treasures unearthed from the now infamous That ’70s Box, which will surely continually be making headlines here at Lefty Limbo, until my scanner runs out of oil. I really think that box deserves a blog of its own. Eventually it shall have one. Meanwhile…

Star Wars Battle

By now, you should know that Star Wars was pretty much my everything from ’77 to ’79. What ’70s kid didn’t obsess over Star Wars?

Meanwhile, though, you may be happy to know that I did pursue more down-to-earth interests:

Join the Air Force.

But my mind would still constantly wander off into space:

Space 1999 Eagle 1

Who could blame me? I was a product of my environment.

Space:1999 Eagle One toy

Jet Plane Evading Giant Lizard Crashes Into High-Rise Apartment Building.


2011
05.23

Godzilla or something like it

That ’70s Box strikes again. In color.

More to come soon.

Car and motorcycle plummet down a hillside.


2011
05.07

Car and motorcycle plummet down a hillside

Ah, yes. An early indicator of my fascination with the loss of life rather than life itself.

Yet another treasure unearthed from That ’70s Box. I’m guessing this was drawn between 1977–79. I absolutely loved drawing catastrophic scenes of explosions and epic space battles at the time, and this is yet another example of my delight with disaster.

Notice how the car is just barely going over the hill, but it’s already completely destroyed. Perhaps it’s American-made. Yet, in its misfortune, I’ve managed to flesh out all its gory details, from the fractured front axle to the little arm rest inside the rear door, which was certainly inspired by my dad’s ’72 Dodge Dart, whose interior design I always admired. Hey wait. That was also American-made.

Then we see a motorcyle rider, who just so happened to be tailing this car this fine day. Wait, he’s going over the hill. Oh well, guess I’ll follow. I dig how he manages to give a big peace sign before biting the dust. Now if that ain’t ’70s, I don’t know what is.

Enjoy.

Kevin Lasker and the 1st Place Trophy


2011
04.09

Kevin Lasker and the 1st Place Trophy

Yet another find from what I’m calling That ’70s Box, a box of childhood drawings and ephemera which dates roughly between 1977-1979. My parents had held onto it for all these years and finally gave it to me a couple of years ago. It’s only recently that I’ve had the time to start scanning and sharing the contents.

This one’s a little unique in the sense that it’s not a Star Wars-themed drawing, which was totally prevalent at the time (I really dug that movie when it came out). I’ve found a few more drawings in the box that are equally random and will have them up soon.

I wish I knew the meaning and/or inspiration behind this drawing, but I can’t. It may have been inspired by the infamous Charles Atlas comic book ads where a muscular man is bullying a skinny “wimp” on the beach. But why is this man winning a trophy? And why is his name “Kevin Lasker?” That’s a total mystery to me.



Nevertheless, it sure makes for some entertaining content. Here’s a zoom of Mr. Lasker’s fist lovingly kissing the side of Skinny-Bone-Jones’ face, complete with “the stars of pain.” How did stars ever come to denote excruciating pain? Note the detail in the eyelashes.



Meanwhile, a blonde hottie regards the brute show of manly A-Type strength and smiles. Maybe she’s Kevin Lasker’s girlfriend? Or perhaps she’s smiling at the consequential events stemming from the skinny man’s attempt to grab the trophy? Note my rendition of her bikini top.



Last but not least, the poor unfortunate soul whose existence I chose to erase from the epic storyline midway through his (or her?) inception. Who was this person? Maybe he was the blonde’s boyfriend who was equally entranced by the goings-on? Why did I ultimately change my mind and decide to eliminate him from the scenario?


Alas, the questions will forever remain. Funny thing is, these days you see many more of these “skinny emaciated emo boy” types, whose lanky lean bodies appear to be much more in vogue and desirable than muscular body-builder types. Have the tables turned?

Stay tuned for more drawings, and thanks for reading.

Santa Monica, Third Street 1973


2011
02.06

3rd Street Promenade, Santa Monica 1973

January 1973.

I’m 99.99% sure that this was taken on Downtown Santa Monica’s Third Street, decades before its renovation and transformation into today’s Third Street Promenade. I can’t get over how funky my dad used to dress. Those striped pants are too cool for words.

I’m not too hip on early ’70s fashion, but something tells me he’s wearing whatever was the norm at that time…especially since he’s so super frugal and practical, there’s no way he would’ve strayed from the basics. Or at least I think…?

I wonder what I’m looking at. My dad got me into toys at a bright and early age, so I may be looking at some toy or toys on display. Or maybe I’m just making mouth-steam clouds on the glass. When I take a real good look at it, it appears I’m staring at some kind of spinning carousel toy with all the conviction of owning it.

I love that hand painted sign. Those letters are so reminiscent of those times. It makes me sad to think that it may have just been thrown away after awhile. I wish I knew what store this was. If anyone can tell me (with sufficient proof), I’ll give you a free set of my comics.

Such good times, those wonder years. I always think of how my dad said to save every photograph, even the ones of seemingly no importance, or, better yet, the “ugly ones.” Why, I would ask?

“Because when you’re old, all those pictures will look beautiful to you.”

Dad, you’re so right.

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