There is a pretty sweet group over at Flickr dedicated to the Kodachrome film medium. There you'll find pages upon pages of user photo contributions. Check it out.
I think Paul Simon said it best:
When I think back On all the crap I learned in high school It's a wonder I can think at all And though my lack of edu---cation Hasn't hurt me none I can read the writing on the wall
Kodachrome They give us those nice bright colors They give us the greens of summers Makes you think all the world's a sunny day, Oh yeah I got a Nikon camera I love to take a photograph So mama don't take my Kodachrome away
If you took all the girls I knew When I was single And brought them all together for one night I know they'd never match my sweet imagination everything looks WORSE in black and white
Kodachrome They give us those nice bright colors They give us the greens of summers Makes you think all the world's a sunny day, Oh yeah I got a Nikon camera I love to take a photograph So mama don't take my Kodachrome away
Mama don't take my Kodachrome away Mama don't take my Kodachrome away Mama don't take my Kodachrome away
Mama don't take my Kodachrome Mama don't take my Kodachrome Mama don't take my Kodachrome away
Mama don't take my Kodachrome Leave your boy so far from home Mama don't take my Kodachrome away Mama don't take my Kodachrome
In the heat of battle my father wove a tapestry of obscenities that as far as we know is still hanging in space over Lake Michigan. -Ralphie as Adult
Tis the season. That's right - for all day viewings of Bob Clark and Jean Shepherd's retro-holiday classic, A Christmas Story, on TNT.
Like everyone else I have seen this movie a thousand times and can quote entire scenes word-for-word. Even though I own a copy of the movie on DVD, and a poorly edited for television version on VHS, I still make time to watch a run or two during the holidays.
In December 2004, Brian Jones, a San Diego entrepreneur, bought the house on eBay for $150,000. Jones used revenue from his business, The Red Rider Leg Lamp Company, which manufactures replicas of the famous lamp from the movie. Vyuz San Diego has a great little article about Jones and his loving restoration of the house, and his quest to replicate the experience for the thousands of fans that make the pilgrimage to 3159 W 11th Street each year. Here's the link.
Over Thanksgiving weekend of 2007 I traveled to Cleveland with a few friends for the semi-annual A Christmas Story Convention and downtown Cleveland's Winterfest.
The house and museum are open daily to the public with extended hours during the holiday season. Check out the website for more information.
Just watch out for those mangy Bumpus hounds next door. Sons-a-bitches...
The throngs of visitors wait to enter the house.
The old man's 1938 Oldsmobile Model Six.
Taking shots in the backyard with that official Red Ryder, carbine action, two-hundred shot range model air rifle.
Where have I been this week? Working with an interior designer on this monstrosity. Sponge faux finishing was to the late 1990s as accent walls are to this decade, and I am convinced that they are an altogether horrible fad.
I understand that people view wallpaper as a hassle, and it is true that removal can be a bothersome mess, but there are classic designs and vintage patterns still available on the market. It reminds me of the recent episode of Mad Men as the Draper's interior decorator tries to up-sell them on new furniture, only to go batshit when Betty purchases the chaise lounge. Personal style is a fickle beast.
And here's another look:
How quickly do you think the homeowners will grow tired of this design?
Linda and Stacy at Perry's Pizza Parlor - Fast Times at Ridgemont High (1982)
I often wonder why the 1980s has left such an indomitable mark upon people of my generation, and, to this day, why it can still incite massive nostalgia when pieces of that decade resurface. Maybe you can attribute a little bit to Reaganomics, or the Cold War, or television, movies and advertising. Or maybe all of the above. Hell, I still remember atomic bomb drills (as if my small wooden school desk could block nuclear fallout), Quaddafi's live terrorist threats, and the explosion of the Challenger. Maybe cultural life in 1980s America was so vibrant for the simple fact that we were alive to live it during such a tumultuous period in the modern age. Don't worry be happy, right? Let's be honest though, the 1980s spawned a lot of bizarre trends. None more so than what I like to call The Great 80s Pizza Wars.
At first glance the term war may seem like a misnomer, but I can assure you it is not. American capitalism has never thrived more so than in the period between 1979 and about 1990. Industry was booming, consumer demand was high, and prices for goods were low. Parents were raking in the dough at work, and in turn their bratty-mouthed/feather-haired/stonewash jeans-wearing kids were raking in lots of dough at home...literally. We were all hopped up on drugs, overly sexed, hated school, watched too much of that damned MTV, spent all of our allowance at the malls, and ate out...a lot. Or, rather, this is how we were heavily portrayed in the media. And what did we eat? Pizza, of course.
Pizza was big business in the 80s, and pizza parlors would profit tremendously from the battle over adolescent market share. Many companies fought for a piece of the pie (pun definitely intended) of the American teenage market, and spent huge amounts of capital on advertising to this particular demographic. And we were willing captives in our own prison. If anything the advertising agencies got two major things right - we liked to hang out with our friends and eat food. Throw in some music and a bunch of the latest video games and you have us at: Hello, Welcome to ___. So what was so rad and bitchin' about 1980s pizza? Let me tell you friend.
In the decade prior to the one in which the internet sucked away all of our social skills there was something called "meaningful interaction." In order to meet up with friends you would first have to call them on a heavy plastic telephone that was attached to the wall by a long curly cord (that would somehow always reverse-curl itself; to your great annoyance). Not all at once mind you...individually! Getting to said meetup spot was always difficult. You could have your parents or older sibling drive you, but that was lame, or you could ride your BMX bike. I usually chose the bike because it was more passenger friendly for the ride home. Once you arrived you had a wide selection of booths available. You always chose the back booth with a good view of the door...but not the booth with the wide circular seat because that one was a little TOO intimate. Ordering was kind of a pain because there was always the annoying kid allergic to EVERYTHING, and you couldn't split the good toppings onto only half the pizza. You order and then wait. But, waiting was the absolute best part. With a fist-full of quarters you could either explore the uncharted levels of Donkey Kong 2 or play that new Thompson Twins single on the jukebox. And when the pizza arrived, well, it was like heaven on a 12 inch wobbly silver platter. You nab that first slice and grab the overly greasy parmesan cheese and red pepper shakers and go to town. Not too fast though. That thing is hot. You have to CUT that first slice into small pieces...then wait for the rest of the pizza to cool down. No problem there...you have an entire pitcher of soda to kill, and good friends to share it with. "Wait, Tina made out with who?" you garble through a mouthful of steamy pepperoni.
And how many pizza parlors were there to choose from? Let's see. There was Shakey's, Pizza Inn, Pizza Hut, Mr. Gatti's, Mario's Flying Pizza, Sbarro's, Chuck E. Cheese, Showbiz Pizza Place, Godfather's, Golf N' Stuff, the mall food court, the bowling alley (although the dough tasted like Brunswick shoe leather), the skating rink, etc., etc. All the while Domino's pizza kept pushing delivery, delivery, delivery. Once their silly Noid began advertising the super fast 30 minute delivery in the late 1980s (killing several unfortunate drivers as a result) the traditional pizza parlor began to die.
Think about it...when was the last time you ate a pizza that hasn't come from some teenager's car, or a supermarket freezer first? I recall a rainy July 4th weekend while I was in college in the late 1990s, where a few of us friends gathered at a local Pizza Hut. There we sat. Drinking pitchers of beer. Playing Frogger. Eating pizza. And laughing. For hours. So, who really won the war?
Pizza Inn 1976 - Texas City, Texas (I grew up right down the road)
Who the hell wants to eat pizza with Billy Bob staring creepily over your shoulder? - Showbiz Pizza Place
Godfather's Pizza Logo
Great Shakey's Pizza Ad (circa 1981) - courtesy of dyingindowney.com
Kodachrome photo of Shaftesbury Avenue from Piccadilly Circus, in the West End of London, circa 1949. Photo by Chalmers Butterfield
The throngs of visitors wait to enter the house.
Pizza Inn 1976 - Texas City, Texas (I grew up right down the road)
Who the hell wants to eat pizza with Billy Bob staring creepily over your shoulder? - Showbiz Pizza Place
Great Shakey's Pizza Ad (circa 1981) - courtesy of 
