Telstar Lounge

Air

2011-04-19T06:51:00.001-07:00

http://www.pandora.com/music/song/air/la+femme+dargent

Eminem Recovery

2010-07-09T20:22:00.000-07:00

Guess who's back with some amazing work?

2010-03-13T16:53:00.001-08:00

Up Front: Walmartians

What is it about Wal*Mart that attracts the lowest common denominator? Is it the overcrowded, thrift-store-looking interiors? Is it the people at the door being paid minimum wage to pretend they care about the incoming as they enter the zone of doom? Charles has thought of making Wal*Mart stores self-sustaining communities, but let’s not call them internment camps because then some bleeding-heart do-gooder will want to throw law suits and get politicians to redistribute more “wealth” of the middle class to the idle masses that already have a great career living off of the government. In this issue we shall look at Walmartians…that is if we can avoid throwing up.

Too True For Words

2010-03-13T16:51:00.000-08:00

Misguided city council members (aka village idiots)—of which Bakersfield has its fair share and then some—wet their panties every time Wal*Mart wants to build a new store or heaven forbid a Super Wal*Mart because they like to crow about how many jobs they are bringing to the area. In Bakersfield, Wal*Mart has been allowed to create urban blight just as it does everywhere else. It seems Wal*Mart so easily grows tired of the stores it builds and then wants to throw up a new one either down the street or two streets over leaving a large-box store untenanted as the canvas for taggers to create their “urban landscape” art. These same village idiots—oops I mean city council members—then pat themselves on the back as they send out their anti-graffiti teams to paint over the “urban landscape” art with a solid color which in effect is erasing the board so that more “urban landscape” art can be splattered there. Yet every time the anti-graffiti team goes out these city council members call the news team to show that they are tough on crime even if it is one they set in motion.

Dunlap’s Disease

2010-03-13T16:50:00.001-08:00

Dunlap’s disease—my belly dun lapped over my waist—is a serious problem in the good old USA. Obesity certainly is no laughing matter, but in Wal*Mart a higher percent per capita of dunlappers without any fashion sense seems to congregate there either wearing inappropriate clothes or less than a complete ensemble as is the case here. “No shoes, no shirt, no service” does not apply here. The truly sick thing about this is that Wal*Martians can leave their trailer parks looking like this and believe they look hot. Just because sweat rolls down your back, does not make you hot, buster!

Now Ain’t That Attractive

2010-03-13T16:48:00.000-08:00

Some have said that Walmartians are among the most patriotic of all Americans so what could be more patriotic than a tank top vest designed to look like the flag of Texas. Texans are super-duper patriotic after all and we all know not to mess with Texas. This gentleman no doubt believes he has combined his love for our country with sexy, country fashion sense just do not mention that this picture looks like a still shot from an extremely low-budget gay porno movie about to begin because doing so would result in an ass kicking in the parking lot…if not in the store itself.

Oh Where To Begin?

2010-03-13T16:46:00.000-08:00

Let us start off with the image of a middle-aged white man wearing a Wu-Tang Clan shirt. Did he get the shirt at the thrift store so he could save money on fashion so as to be able to save up for the camouflaged shot gun or did he hear the word “clan” in Wu-Tang Clan and thought he could get in on the ground floor of a new branch of a hate group? What is most troubling of all is not that Wal*Mart sells guns, but that they sell them to village idiots who are not smart enough to become city council members.

Son, I Remember When I Met Your Mama

2010-03-13T16:43:00.000-08:00

Ahh…young love. The pretty-fly-for-a-white guy’s eyes met the eyes of the girl with chemically burned hair as he reclined on shopping carts waiting to be fed into the side of the local Wal*Mart. Guys this sexy are destined to be baby daddys (sic). “Yeah son we was gonna go in and shop ‘cuz your mama needed to color her hair again and I wuz gonna get some condoms but I thought, hey, why not head out to the parking lot to my retired Crown Vic police car for playtime and well that’s how you came along. One day soon you’ll go to Wal*Mart and find a girl too. Hell at the rate you’re going I’ll probably be a grandfather by 28.” Make the madness stop!

2010-02-10T17:24:00.000-08:00

Up Front: Valentines Day

2010-02-10T17:22:00.000-08:00

This month SWIZZLE delves into the disturbing world of vintage valentines to reveal the horrors lurking therein. The U.S. Greeting Card Association estimates that approximately one billion Valentine’s Day cards are sent each year worldwide, making the day the second largest card-sending holiday of the year, behind Christmas. The association estimates that, in the US, men spend on average twice as much money as women on such frivolities. Does anyone really wonder why men would spend twice as much as women on this day of love? What could possibly be the reason? Oh let us ponder…Could he possibly want something? Perhaps he did not experience the dropping of the ball on New Year’s Eve and had no one with whom to “ring in” the New Year. Perhaps he is a wee bit desperate to make up for “spare” time. Ahh, yes! There it is. Men learn that in order to “bowl a strike” on Valentine’s Day they must send a parade of flowers and chocolates so that she will think he is romantic so that he can “git ‘er done”! The irony of this vintage Valentine is that it is showing desperation and showing desperation is powerfully unsexy.

She’s Out To Cop Your Heart

2010-02-10T17:21:00.000-08:00

Gotta adore the code speak…cop…cop you late…Get it? Look at those bugged-out eyes full of the missionary zeal of desperation-forced action. Is that a look born of being underutilized for days, months, and possibly years on end? She’s got the handcuffs ready to take charge of her love prisoner. She’s got the nightstick, so he won’t have to worry about bringing one. She’s got the high-heel shoes in red of course. We can only imagine what a woman in the Love Patrol could be capable of. How could she possibly be in need of a date? Oh wait. Take a look at those lumberjack shoulders, bulging muscles, and those power calves and you’ve got a woman who could break a man in two. Then again there are those out there who like Amazons, so for them, the Love Patrol wants to make an arrest.

Racism Says “I Love You”

2010-02-10T17:20:00.000-08:00

Apparently in bygone eras like the 1950’s from when this little gem comes, blatant racism was thought to be cute especially on Valentine’s Day. Oh where to begin! Is it the broken English that is supposed to be to endearing to the reader? Is it the rapidly approaching threat of physical violence should he not get the wampum he wants? And should this lad go on the love warpath and ultimately be successful in getting his valentine, what is he going to do with that axe? Axe her out on a date? If we tried, could we roll our eyes more?

Dude, You’re a Stalker

2010-02-10T17:19:00.000-08:00

She builds a wall so fast and strong presumably to get away from him, but the wall is not strong enough to withstand his magic ray. First off dude, you are as ugly as a mud fence in a rainstorm with the wind heading south and you think that PYT (pretty young thing) is going to be attracted to a guy with bugged-out eyes, womanish drawn-on eyebrows, and matching zits on each cheek? Are there no mirrors in your house? Hey Forrest Gump, do you really think that box of chocolates that you have placed near the hole in the wall you have made with your magic ray will be the trick that finally wins her over? The fact that anyone thought this was a cute expression of desire, love, and romance remains troubling to say the least.

Necrophilia to the Rescue

2010-02-10T17:18:00.000-08:00

When Johnny cannot get no lovin’ from dates that breathe and have a pulse, he goes with his spade and digs up cold Ethel. We have Alice Cooper to blame for that phrase that has invaded our vocabulary by virtue of his examination of this topic in a song by that name. Interestingly, in the United States there is no federal legislation that prohibits romantic interludes with a corpse. Holy Moses, sweet Batman and Robin! In some states is a misdemeanor (slap on the hand) and in others it is a felony. In the golden state of California, it is merely a violation of the health code!

Meet the Flintstones

2010-02-10T17:17:00.000-08:00

"Yabba-dabba-doooooooo!" Flintstones... Meet the Flintstones. They're a modern Stone-Age family from the town of Bedrock, they're a page right out of history. Let's ride with the family down the street. Through the courtesy of Fred's two feet. When you're with the Flintstones, have a yabba dabba doo time, a dabba doo time, we'll have a gay old time!” Like Lucy and Ricky, Fred and Wilma produced a child, Pebbles, through the miracle of immaculate conception while the infertile couple next door, Barney and Betty, adopted a boy they named Wham-Bam. Whatever Wham-Bam wanted, Wham-Bam got by hitting various objects with his club. Living next door of course made for a future romance born from proximity. So when Wham-Bam says “You’ll be my Valentine no matter what.”, Pebbles will either fall in love with him down the road, but if she does not, well then there is always that club it set things in motion.

2010-01-06T05:30:00.000-08:00

Up Front: Pulp Fiction
“Pulp” magazines and novels were inexpensive fiction publications widely distributed through the 1950s. Printed on cheap paper with ragged untrimmed edges and priced at ten cents, these novels and magazines titillated readers with stories of crime, murder, and of course sex. The term “pulp fiction” stems from the cheap wood pulp paper on which such publications were printed and of course there was not a lick of truth in them. The ones that sold the most were jammed full of lurid and exploitative stories that were sold by sensationalized cover art. Pulp publications were purchased primarily by men who probably moved on to the “real” thing in Playboy once that magazine hit its heyday. The irony is that romance novels and smut novels written by such luminaries as Danielle Steel are for all intents and purposes the modern pulp fiction.

A Man Named Mars

2010-01-06T05:29:00.000-08:00

Often times, the cover said it all—it had to if the magazine was going to leap off the newsstand and into the sweaty hands of men needing adventure—and of course the promise of what lurked inside had to be fulfilled. So let us examine this one and tease out the details of what might be in store should we actually turn the pages. First of all we would wonder how this vaguely naked man in an army helmet landed where he did unconscious. Secondly, we might be drawn to the little, red, pointy space ship laser-zapping his left nipple. Yeah, there is nothing sexual going on here just science and lots and lots of it. Are there space aliens that through science have subdued this strapping man? What untold “scientific” experiments might they do on his body? Surely, the nipple zap cannot be the only experiment that the man named Mars would have to “suffer” through. Inquiring minds want to know more.

Lust in Orbit

2010-01-06T05:27:00.000-08:00

Adultery, intrigue, and a peeping Tom caused a blast that rocked the base! An explosive novel of a new type of community—a missile testing center—where passions are as volatile as the rockets themselves. Let us check the selling points. First of all we have adultery going on with a peeping Tom watching. How much do you want to bet that the reader gets to see through the eyes of the peeping Tom? Of course, the missiles and their explosive volatility can in no way be seen as a phallic metaphor. Perish the thought! Perhaps Jim LAYne was a respected author. For the 1950’s, the “survivor” (a woman who survives by giving men what they want most) in the cover was essentially pornographic whereas today her attire is perfect for a shopping spree at WalMart. Back then, even if the idea of being with another partner crossed a man’s mind, The Church said he was guilty of adultery. And finally, there is voyeurism to contend with. But hey, they say confession is good for the soul.

Sin on Wheels (Unabridged Edition)

2010-01-06T05:25:00.000-08:00

Proving that a woman does not need to be in outer space in order for her body to be the object of naughty intents of men, Sin on Wheels conveyed that a woman just needed to be available. After World War II, American prosperity allowed the middle class to own trailers that they would pull behind their shiny new Plymouths each summer during their two-week vacations from the cardboard box factory. The rest of the year, the trailer sat unused. That is where Loren Beauchamp came in…assuming there was a Loren Beauchamp. Let us see…one unused trailer, a dramatically undersized blouse worn by a chestally (sic) oversized woman with an absent husband. Perhaps once inside the trailer she would accidentally fall on the man and things could just happen. Hey wait…fall on…jam those words together and you have a clever name for the woman in need.

The Juvies

2010-01-06T05:23:00.000-08:00

World War II created a new kind of person: the teenager. Prior to WWII there were teen age individuals but not teenagers (one word). During the war, teenagers became adultified (sic) in that they went to work because the men were at war and with having to work, came taking on other adult mindsets. After the war ended, companies realized that there was a huge market to be tapped—the teenagers—and just as the demarcation line between child and adult became blurred so did what could and could not be written. Imaging being a Joe Average teenager reading The Juvies to live vicariously the danger of the delinquents portrayed. Maybe it made Joe Average a tick more edgy, but it is no different than teenagers today listening to “gangsta” rap to appear tough. Of course, there were adult Joe Averages reading this book as well an that is perhaps more disturbing than whatever the content of the novel was in the first place

Gay Whore

2010-01-06T05:20:00.000-08:00

In the 1950’s “gay” meant happy, but already the term was morphing into its same-sex connotation we think of today. So let us examine this one. First of all Jack Love has to be one of the worst entendres of all time. We have two men romping at the sea clearly enjoying each other’s company. The smaller man is probably the whore and he has to be a whore so that the man holding him up can go back to his straight world and live in the shroud of denial. If he shelled out money for a man-on-man experience then he was just experimenting and certainly was not a homosexual. Therefore homosexuals must be whores because homosexual sex is not natural. Is that not just lovely? It was, nevertheless, the belief of the day. So Joe Bagofdonuts that had his eye on the guy next door could read this, be fulfilled by jack love, and go back into denial that he is not a gay whore.

Satan Was a Lesbian?!?!!

2010-01-06T05:18:00.000-08:00

Where to begin? How can we not be appalled at the man’s drawn fist ready to punch the attacking butch lesbian who clearly is after the man’s nearly naked womanthing (sic). Is it not also funny that the lesbian’s left hand almost appears to be fondling the man’s leg? How much do you want to bet that the mean old lesbian subdues the man, ties him up, has her way with the quivering womanthing (sic) while the guy watches in terror only to free himself and turn the lesbian straight? Do not we just LOVE how same-gender sexuality is portrayed? It is satanic. It also appears that lesbians routinely attack straight women. Let us not even touch on the fact that Satan is a guy and lesbians are women. Then again one of Charles’ more colorful cousins proclaimed—using brilliant circular reasoning--that HE was a lesbian when he was 16 which brought the retort that the teen boy could not be a lesbian because he was a guy after all. To which the ever-clever cousin responded: “Lesbians are people who can’t get enough of women. I can’t get enough of women, therefore I must be a lesbian.”

White Trash

2010-01-06T05:16:00.000-08:00

The whole town pushed her around! Was she condemned to indecency because of her bawdy mother? (Probably!) Or was there a man, somewhere, who meant escape? Well, on first glance, she appears to be following in mom’s footsteps and of course there is a man (sugar daddy) out there who values her (ample breasts) and will rescue her from squalor (as long as she puts out on a regular basis) either that or after he has “escaped” he will get back in his Packhard (sic) and go home. The expression on the mother’s face says it all: “Get him, honey. I think we can get some cash out of him.” And on that delightful note, we close this issue of SWIZZLE with the hope that 2010 will not be as disturbing as these glimpses of yesteryear portray.

Prisencolinensinainciusol

2009-12-24T16:41:00.001-08:00

Just in time for Christmas, Hanukkah, and those fake holidays:

click on the link below

Prisencolinensinainciusol

2009-12-05T19:33:00.000-08:00

Up Front: A Sinister Threat

Charles came across this sinister message one day as it flowed from the speakers of his motorized conveyance and it made him wonder who this strange and sinister person was that the message portrayed. Pay close attention dear SWIZZLErs: “You better watch out. You better not cry. Better not pout.” Seems quite threatening if you ask Charles, but the message continued: “He's making a list and checking it twice. Gonna find out who's naughty and nice.” Charles wondered if this spoke of Mafia infiltration, but it proceeded: “He sees you when you're sleeping. He knows when you're awake. He knows if you've been bad or good. So be good for goodness sake!” Charles began to wonder if the message was about a stalker, but then he heard: “Santa Claus is coming to town!” Ohh! Christmas is coming. THAT was a close call!

Unisex XMAS Fashion: Taking the Ho out of Ho, Ho, Ho

2009-12-05T19:31:00.000-08:00

Oh imagine the fun! Mommy, daddy, the boy, and the girl all wearing matching jammies on Christmas morn…dare we dream of this level of festivity? Apparently wearing really ugly nightwear made the morning more Christmassy. Charles supposes that after a night of putting together bicycles that daddy, seeing mommy dressed in form concealing clothes, would not be interested in playing reindeer games for the rest of the night and would therefore get a good night’s sleep. Riiight! Realizing that the kids would be up at 5:00 am and that dad and mom would be up until 2:00 am assembling things and wrapping presents—and therefore no reason to go to sleep but needing to kill time—perhaps nightwear that was easy to slip into was ideal given that as they labored, they’d conspire, as they dreamt by the fire to face unafraid, the plans that they'd made, for “walking” (sic) in a winter wonderland.

Sell ‘Em On It Early

2009-12-05T19:28:00.000-08:00

The kiddies know the morbidly obese man in the red suit is the jolly good fellow who practices home invasions on Christmas Eve to bring presents to obedient kids. Adults smoked cigarettes and did not believe in Santa Claus any longer, so why the ads with Santa hawking cigarettes? Well silly SWIZZLErs the kids would see the print ads and if Camels were good enough for Santa Claus, they were good enough for future smokers. Charles supposes that Jesus, being a newborn at Christmas, was too young to smoke, but Charles wonders what Mary and Joseph would have smoked. It seems that the ad men did not “go there” and we should ponder why. As for Prince Albert, Charles recalls well the prank call dialog: “Hello. Do you have Prince Albert in a can?” “Yes I do.” “Well, dammit, let him out!” Click.

Guns Say I Love You

2009-12-05T19:26:00.000-08:00

What a lovely family holiday image! Ahh, the good old days when guns, like cigarettes, were good things. “Hey honey, Johnny has pent up angst because he’s maintaining his virginity until he gets married and Father Dominic has convinced him that “self-abuse” will send him straight to Hell, so let’s buy him a phallic metaphor so he doesn’t go crazy in the noggin.” “OK dear, but let’s buy Susie a big gun too so she can learn to shoot it and use it if need be to shoot the knob off a lying and cheating husband like you that is if I don’t teach her to be a man hater in the meantime!” Yes, seven to seventeen…Daisy made it a Christmas to remember and even little Jimmy got a gun no doubt to shoot the partridge in the pear tree, the two turtle doves, the three French hens, the four calling birds, the six geese a-laying, and of course the seven swans a-swimming.

Papa, Can You Hear Me?

2009-12-05T19:24:00.000-08:00

Years before Bobrah made it big in her breakout movie Lentil the goyim at the record company could not fathom getting bupkes from her at Christmas so they prevailed on her to make a “holiday” record to thrill and amaze her fans. Actually, they wanted to make a whole lotta money, so being the obedient mentch that Bobrah is known to be (oy vey), she crooned for the microphone in July and just in time for “holiday” listening and record-company money grabbing came this memorable album. Barbra (sic) was made to sing O Little Town of Bethlehem, Silent Night, and Ave Maria while her “friends” Jim “Gomer Pyle” Nabors and Doris Day finished the second side of the album.

And Now Some Music Charles Prefers Listening To

2009-12-05T19:21:00.000-08:00

Perhaps Charles’ taste runs a bit off the beaten path, but he has never exactly warmed to the way that Bar-bar-rah streiZand warbles and has always preferred the Telstarrific music of The Ventures with their quasi-surf-guitar sound. An apples-to-oranges comparison from Charles? Of course! From 1965 (and available on iTunes), is The Ventures’ Christmas Album that blends Christmas classics, the trademark quasi-surf-guitar sound, and musical shout outs to here and there to power hits of the day. What could be more festive? What could show that one is a true musical aficionado of vintage Christmas music? Go download. Mix a Hemi Charger and relax!

Hemi Charger Martini

2009-12-05T19:19:00.000-08:00

1/2 Bailey’s
1/4 Amaretto
1/4 Ketel One

What would an issue of SWIZZLE be without a car reference? Charles has not shared martini recipes in a long while, so here goes. Enjoy! Shake vigorously over ice in a shaker because there ain’t nuthin’ subtle about a burnout in a Hemi Charger, but it is luxuriously delightful in a forbidden and lurid sense. Bailey’s, Amaretto, and Ketel One…so unmistakably luxurious, quite forbidden, and sinfully lurid that repetition may be necessary.

The Soju Martini

2009-12-05T19:16:00.000-08:00

Charles’ favorite martini is a Razorblade Martini (just vodka and vermouth…no horrid olives nor effete twists to ruin the experience), but for some this put-hair-on-your-chest martini is too much to bear. Charles suggests using soju instead of vodka. What is soju? Soju is a delightful “vodka” made in South Korea from rice, potato, wheat, barley, sweet potato, or tapioca (essentially the same distillation as vodka), but the intrepid South Koreans imbued soju with a 20% alcohol by volume rather than the 45% level of vodka. Its taste is comparable to vodka, though often slightly sweeter because of the sugars added in the manufacturing process. It literally could be served to experienced vodka drinkers and they would not even catch on. In fact they would ask instead the brand name of your ultra-smooth vodka. Cheers!

2009-11-14T09:05:00.000-08:00

Up Front
Spicy ham or Spam was Hormel’s way of making use of scrap meat left over from commercial processing that sane people believed were inedible. It seems that these scraps of meat and body parts here and there were going to waste so it made sense us make use of this detritus and sell it as a new wonder meat. During the Great Depression, Spam provided a cheap and lasting food source that became a mainstay for the military during World War II. Eating Spam like drinking Tang was patriotic. After the war, Spam was a miracle food that cut women’s time in the kitchen. Some lemon jello with peas in it and some fried Spam and dinner was done! Some developed derision for eating Spam while others developed a taste for it and created delightful new recipes for this “miracle” meat.

Talk About the $64,000 Question

2009-11-14T09:04:00.001-08:00

Assuming that pleasing Dick is what the woman in the ad intended to do in the first place, one has to wonder whether a plate full of spaghetti and mystery meat is going to motivate Dick to salute and say yum. Perhaps Dick would rather eat later. Perhaps Dick does not want to eat at all. Perhaps Dick is tired from a day at work being micro-managed as his boss crushes his nads all day long and then comes home to a plate full of meat barf and overcooked spaghetti as a way to motivate Dick into a happy mood. Maybe Dick wants his wife naked in a raincoat meeting him at the door. Dick needs something other than Spam to make him a happy camper. Final question: did the cat hurl onto the spaghetti or was that some “sauce” for which the recipe has thankfully disappeared?

Man To Man Dating Advice

2009-11-14T09:02:00.000-08:00

Old ads are fun to say the least because we have to wonder what the ad men were trying to convey when they created the artwork for their campaigns. The bugged-out eyes and over-eager smiles convey the apparent sexual desperation of these two men who thankfully are rendered from the chest up. Dentyne to the rescue! Chew a stick of Dentyne and soon you will be horizontal! Perhaps Dentyne was an amazing dating device, but redhead’s intensity and focus on getting some Dentyne coupled with dark-headed man’s supply and the evident I’ve-got-you-bent-over-a-table expression he is shooting red makes red fair game for oh-Honey-we-ain’t-in-Kansas sexual escapades not that anything is wrong with that as Jerry Seinfeld would say.

Southwest…The Psychic Airlines

2009-11-14T08:59:00.000-08:00

Three boys and a dog running AWAY from Neverland Ranch…who would have thought that ads could be so visionary of the future? And who would NOT want to get away from Neverland Ranch? One boy is topless. One appears bottomless. The center boy is naked. What could the art department at the ad agency have been thinking when creating this image? Perhaps they were psychic and warning of future horrors. Charles is braced for the apologists and revisionists that in one fell swoop deftly pushed aside Michael Jackson’s decades of child molestation as dolts like Magic Johnson spewed that Michael was single-handedly responsible for popularizing “black” music in “white” America. Wow! What a way to slap Aretha, Tina, Gladys, Jimi, Otis, Diana, and others in the face. Perhaps Eminem said it best: “Come here little kiddies, on my lap. Guess who's back with a brand new rap? And I don't mean rap as in a new case of child molestation accusation. No worries. Papa's got a brand new bag of toys. What else could I possibly do to make noise? I done touched on everything, but little boys. That's not a stab at Michael. That's just a metaphor. I'm just psycho. I go a little bit crazy sometimes with my rhymes.”

I Wannabe Sedated

2009-11-14T08:58:00.000-08:00

For Charles, November—so far—has been a “learning-moments” kind of month and Charles so adores those learning moments. As soon as the full moon hit, Charles and some of his friends saw parts of their everyday world turn loony. Charles being Charles recalled the sage lines and conclusion of The Jefferson Airplane’s signature song White Rabbit:

“When men on the chessboard
Get up and tell you where to go…
When logic and proportion
Have fallen sloppy dead
And the White Knight is talking backwards
And the Red Queen's "off with her head!"
Remember what the dormouse said: ‘"Keep your head!”’

Discuss!

2009-09-30T17:21:00.000-07:00

Up Front: Past Perfect
In these days of forced “sustainability”—code speak for living a hair-shirt existence as if doing so is a virtue instead of a vice—let us return to a time when cars were cars and they made out of metal and chrome with large, throbbing V-8 engines under the hood driving the rear wheels as nature and God intended unlike today in which mostly plastic nightmares with toxic batteries will soon clog landfills. Ironically today’s “recyclable” cars are far less recyclable than cars of the golden age of motoring. Those were the days when American cars commanded attention via style and performance instead of blandness and gutlessness. On the cover is a tail shot of a 1963 1/2 Ford Galaxie 500 XL convertible with a honking 427 cubic inch V8 with not one, but two carburetors lurking under the hood that throbbed gently and reassuringly as the heartbeat of the car. Fifty years ago, cars were statements about an optimistic future whereas those who pray at the church of sustainability want to force everyone to drive cars against their will with battery packs that will be “recycled” into landfills so they can leach out toxins. How sad it is that we are now expected by intolerant greenistas to buy cars that minimize our happiness and destroy the environment!

Bullet Birds…The Real T-birds

2009-09-30T17:19:00.000-07:00

To snobs, the 1955 to 57 Thunderbirds are the iconic T-Birds, despite the fact that first generation T-birds hardly sold well. Granted, they were far from being Edsel ugly, but they were also far from successful. The T-Bird needed a rethink and the “big” birds that arrived for 1958 bought buyers to dealers in droves ready to buy at premium prices. The subsequent 1961-63 “bullet” birds built on that success and took the brand to scintillating perfection as the side view of the nose literally looked like a bullet fired out of a barrel of a .357 Magnum ending in the fin of a rocket. The 390 cubic inch V8 with a four-barrel carburetor had the capacity to turn premium into adrenaline. Anne, Charles, and the Ever-Vibrant Elise are known to create rolling roadblocks in their sea foam green ’63 bullet bird as they drive the speed limit on Highway 99 through Bakersfield.

Very Continental

2009-09-30T17:17:00.000-07:00

Believe it or not, there was a day in which Lincoln and Cadillac were the gold standards for luxurious excellence with Lincolns arguably winning out on understated style. Anne and Charles adore the 1961 Lincoln Continental with its chrome tipped fenders and rear suicide doors. Rolls Royces of this era looked like fat-rumped women 45 years past their prime as if they were ever in their prime in the first place. Rolls Royce would go on to ape the lines of the ’61 Lincoln later on when they decided to produce a modern car. Mercedes-Benz still believed in geriatric arrogance and stupidly slow vehicles at exorbitant prices during this era. BMW was fighting for its life building small everyman’s cars in a desperate attempt to be the next VW. The Lincoln Continental was stylish, athletic, and swank by comparison. Aside from an untoward assassination of an President in the back seat of a Continental convertible, THIS was the pinnacle of American luxury.

Of Course…The Mustang

2009-09-30T17:15:00.000-07:00

The success of the bigger Thunderbirds at luxury prices got Ford wondering whether or not they could create a vehicle similar in intent to the Thunderbird’s dictate of stylish motoring, but at a lower price point. Realizing the gamble that such a vehicle represented, it was determined that it could not have a bespoke chassis like the T-bird and would have to be based on an existing car. Take a pedestrian Falcon, throw in a V8, and wrap it in Italian-flavored sheet metal and Ford had a pretty darned good shot at modest success…they hoped. Unveiled at the 1964 World’s Fair, Ford was stunningly unsuccessful in creating a modest success. Instead they created a stampede of a half million people wanting to buy Falcons wrapped in pretty metal with a galloping horse on the grille. The Mustang quickly outsold the high-volume Falcon. Even to this day, the imitators, known as the Camaro and Challenger, still fail to deliver the performance numbers the Mustang delivers at the price point that the Mustang goes for. It could be argued that the enduring success of the Mustang is one reason that Ford did not need Obamamoney.

Aptly Named: Thunderbolt

2009-09-30T17:13:00.000-07:00

The sixties was also a time of automotive crotch grabbing as the horsepower wars drove the sport of drag racing. The most sinfully egregious example of such a hand grab was the 1964 Ford Fairlane 427 Thunderbolt. The Fairlane was for all intents a slightly larger body over a Falcon that sold at a slightly higher price point. The minions at Ford started building a few Fairlanes without sound deadening and with all options deleted. In many places plastic replaced metal and plexiglas replaced glass. Under the hood was a massive 427 cubic inch V8. In theory the car was drivable on the street, but just barely…well not really actually, but nevertheless Ford built them. Real Thunderbolts command six figures at the Barrett-Jackson automobile auctions and fake Thunderbolts can be built for 25-35K. This ain’t rocket science. This is all about speed.

Don’t Call It A Truckster

2009-09-30T17:11:00.000-07:00

In the day, wealthy people had station wagons (two words) that they would keep at their country homes for the sole use of fetching their guests at the train station. As a sign of wealth these comfort transports came with real wood bodies that were hand crafted. They exuded wealth. Ford was the maker that pioneered the “Woody” and later it would recapture that essence in modern-day station wagons with fake wood trim that allowed Middle America pretend they were of the moneyed class that could afford the frivolity of a station wagon, but make no mistake, the station wagon was seldom done better that Ford did them. This example here could transport kids during the week and could be taken to the dragstrip for some tire-burning fun if that were desired. How pathetically sad that Chrysler invented (sic) the minivan and now we are awash in a sea of unattractive bread boxes and crossover-segment-busting-sport-utility-vehicles—really station wagons—that are ashamed to look like station wagons. Fortunately, Ford still sells a station wagon that looks like a station wagon—the Flex—although the man in charge of Ford was admonished for calling it that instead of a CSBSUV (crossover-segment-busting-sport-utility-vehicle). Pretty loony, ain’t it?

GT500KR

2009-09-30T17:08:00.000-07:00

Beginning in 1963, the Corvette went from being a rolling, flamboyant joke to being a formidable sports car. Although Ford did the GT40, it never bothered to create a dedicated sports car to rival the Corvette and that has remained true even to this day. Nevertheless, in 1968 Ford responded to the rumored killer ’68 Corvette Stingray by turning Carroll Shelby loose in the company parts bin and the result was the 1968 Shelby Mustang GT500KR and “KR” meant King of the Road. The thunderous 428 cubic inch CobraJet V8 imbued the Mustang with brutal, vicious horsepower that enabled it to defend against the Corvette Stingray 427. In this bygone era, possibly the only European cars that could come close to the acceleration of the GT500KR and the 427 Stingray were the impossibly expensive Lamborghini Miura and Ferrari Daytona. For the price differential a person could have both the GT500KR and the 427 Stingray along with plenty of mad money to go around with the leftovers. Fortunately, Ford still makes the GT500KR, Chevrolet still makes a modern day 427 Corvette, and one can buy both and still have plenty of money left over from what it would cost to buy a Lamborghini Gallardo. The Americans still do some things better than the rest.

2009-09-05T07:52:00.001-07:00

Up Front

2009-09-05T07:46:00.000-07:00

Warren "Doc" Bayley owned the small but profitable chain of Hacienda motels in California and provided patrons–mostly traveling motorists–with room service and bellhops. When resort building came to Las Vegas, he built a Hacienda there as well with a casino directed toward economy-minded travelers with children. Like the Haciendas in Fresno, Bakersfield, and Indio, swimming pools and landscaping between the low-rise guest room wings marked the Las Vegas version. For $16 customers received a room at the hotel, complimentary food, a bottle of cheap California sparkling wine, and $10 worth of casino credit if they were in Las Vegas. Bayley also got gas station attendants in California to distribute printed coupons for stays at the Hacienda. The chain’s low-cost approach prompted the nickname "Hayseed Heaven." Unfortunately, progress has to ruin everything and in the 1990s, Las Vegas was trying to appear more family friendly as it became ashamed of the real-and-only reason to go to Vegas. The Mandalay Resort Group imploded the Hacienda to make way for a new venue. On the cover of this issue of SWIZZLE is a glimpse back in time to the delightful inception of the Hacienda Bakersfield Inn. The Hacienda Bakersfield changed hands and was later rechristened the Casa Royale and in that iteration was glorified in a previous edition of SWIZZLE. If only to be able to go back in time to that crystal-blue swimming pool! As summer closes, let us imagine ourselves there. Do you suppose they will allow us to order martinis if we go there?

The Hacienda Was Glam

2009-09-05T07:43:00.000-07:00

Of course it was glamorous! How could it not be with the neon cowboy on his horse that festooned the front of the motel and beckoned passers by? It was southernmost jewel in the three-diamond motel tiara on Bakersfield’s storied Union Avenue. With 135 spacious accommodations, the Buccaneer Lounge for frosty-cold martinis to set the evening in motion, the Cabrillo Room for fine dining after getting a bit tipsy, nightly live entertainment, TV at the click of a dial so as to see The Tonight Show starring Steve Allen, and courtesy coffee for the morning after, the Hacienda offered a traveler the ability to park his car, enter an air-conditioned lobby and conduct all these activities without leaving the building—if that is what he choose to do. Only the Bakersfield Inn—the central jewel—and the Rancho Bakersfield—the northern jewel—could compete with the Hacienda’s level of sheer majesty. The Hacienda experience was also the epitome of life as it should have been especially in inhospitable climates of cities the chain served. Should a visit to the pool be desired, the brilliant sun ensured that the water would not be a gonad-shrinking experience. By the way, where is that martini?

What A Complex It Was!

2009-09-05T07:34:00.000-07:00

Bakersfield loves building big things and this aerial photograph shows the sheer size of the Hacienda Bakersfield complex. The fabled Union Avenue—where cars would enter the parking lot—is on the right of this picture. In the upper left-hand corner, is the s-shaped entrance to the Terrace Drive-In Theater. Now imagine walking in under the white-roofed carport. Inside the largest building were the two restaurants, cocktail lounge, meeting rooms, and banquet facilities. Now notice the connecting structure from the main building to the first wing of rooms. The connector was glassed in and climate controlled. In this shot, the Hacienda Bakersfield was newly open for business while still in the process of being landscaped.

We Dress To Impress
Back in the day, women and men dressed to be seen when they went to dinner dressed up because decorum still mattered and restaurant managers actually refused service—even in a garden-variety places like Denny’s—for failing to dress properly. These days, if someone is dressed improperly, a manager is unlikely to deny service for fear of the race card or the fat card or the gender-preference card being thrown down as it is now more important to throw a hissy and pitch a lawsuit than it is to admit that one is dressed improperly. Today we would look at the women in this old Kodachrome slide and wonder what function they were all dolled up for but the reality was that this was normal attire for a casual dinner. Charles still thinks that it is NOT OK to dine in a fine restaurant in jeans, t-shirts, tube tops, and Daisy Dukes even if you are female. It is enough to drive a person to drink a martini. These ladies appear ready for a night of delightful dining and probably some dancing with spouses before turning in for the evening. Might they even allow a cocktail for medicinal purposes before dinner and before turning in? We can only hope so.

Of course, these ladies—that time has erased the names of—recalled their comfortable room and were no doubt thrilled by the luxury in which they were ensconced. Did they realize how delightfully mid-century modern the furnishings were or was it just hotel room furniture to them? Did they realize how cool the Philco TV was? Did they wonder whether that shade of orange would preserved for posterity? Let’s hope they got it and realized how amazing it was to be alive in such an era in a town that dreamed big. Did they enjoy the view out of the floor-to-ceiling windows knowing that peeping Toms were nowhere to be found? Let’s hope they opened the curtains and enjoyed the view of the pool when they were not partaking of its refreshing delights. And clearly they did meander out to the pool to pose as people did back in the day. Even a pool was so much more than just a pool. Pools were still amazing to people because they could take any humdrum place and make it glorious. Moms, dads, girls, boys, husbands, wives, boyfriends, and girlfriends congregated by the pools in motels across the United States and life was good. When these ladies were done, did they open the drawer in the desk back in the room, take out a complimentary postcard or two and dash off a note to a friend or relative that read as an endorsement of the Hacienda experience with the “wish you were here” message written near the end to punctuate it? Let’s hope they did and let’s hope they came back again.

Sometimes All Is NOT Lost

2009-09-05T07:27:00.000-07:00

Although the Hacienda Las Vegas and Hacienda Bakersfield (nee Casa Royale) are long gone, the Hacienda Fresno and Date Tree Hotel (nee Hacienda Indio) are still alive and kicking sort of. The Hacienda Fresno is currently being renovated to become a half-way house for recovering addicts and alcoholics. No doubt some left-wing bed wetter wants to feel good by throwing money at icky people. Charles assumed the underground bar with a see-thru glass window into the pool will not be a prime attraction for the how-dry-I-am people. In the picture at left are the mid-century-modern toilets in those delightful sixties colors having been removed to make way for “green” low-flow caca keepers. Ahh yes! Progress. The Rancho Bakersfield went this route and did not last long as a flophouse.

The Hacienda Indio still appears delightful from a distance with a façade added to make the 55 year old motel appear up-to-date, but a drive through the parking lot early on a Friday morning showed possibly 6-8 cars on the entire complex not counting what appeared to be employee parking clustered out back. Once around the side of the building, obvious similarities to the Bakersfield Hacienda abound. Take the aerial view of the Bakersfield Hacienda, scrunch the wings closer and cut the size of the pool by two-thirds and taa-daa you have Indio. The large restaurant next door—probably once a Denny’s, Colony Kitchen, or a Sambos—looks like a dirt bomb exploded inside with only the “closed” sign to indicate that such a condition is not the normal operating procedure. When the I-10 replaced US99 in Indio, motel row—like in so many cities—died. Ahh, but to reminisce…

2009-07-27T13:46:00.000-07:00

Up Front: The Bakersfield Underground Music Scene

Two months ago while Anne, Charles, and the Ever-Vibrant Elise were having brunch at Donna Kaye’s Cafe, Charles read the latest edition of the zine Bakotopia in which it was revealed that a member of The Jesus and Mary Chain—Charles’ favorite band—would be in Bakersfield...City of Righteousness As It Should Be...to scout the burgeoning, underground punk music scene that promises to be the next “Bakersfield sound”—move over Buck Owens. Initially, Charles did not care about anything other than seeing a member of his favorite band, so Charles went to the audition as a spectator, but was not prepared to discover this exciting new musical scene. The uber-Republican, straightjacket-enforced Christian values of Bakotown that alternately has billed itself as the place where “life (is) as it should be” or as a “city of righteousness” has manifested young people that focus their musical artistry on the rejection of the picket-fence surreality of Rosedalia. Jim Reid, of The Jesus and Mary Chain, was recently in Bakersfield scouting new talent for Sub Pop Records and paid a visit to Jerry’s Pizza to catch two bands reviewed below. Reid, the cofounder of one of the seminal new-post-punk bands of the mid-eighties, recalled what it was like to be a teenager or an early twentysomething and feeling compelled to express his rage at society though his music. Reid, no stranger to controversy, reacted to televangelist Jimmy Swaggart getting caught with his pants down with a prostitute and then begging for forgiveness on his television show. Reid responded by singing: “Broken down jesus with the taste for trash, ice-cool hip swinger moves too fast, tear stained nightmares in the cold light of day, sick sick nightmares just won't go away.” Reid said of the two local bands: “They definitely got kit.” [Quotes by band members have not been edited.]

The Pus Pistols

2009-07-27T13:43:00.000-07:00

The spiritual grandsons of The Buzzcocks and The Sex Pistols, brothers Duane and Travis Scranton (left to right), Cade Figueroa, and Dennis Lovejoy say their music is “a reaction to the castration of men by the insidious lesbian agenda hidden in the vegan movement.” Said Lovejoy as he inhaled a tri-tip sandwich: “Vegans say meat is murder. I say vegans are cold-hearted b¡†çh£$. Do you not see the man-hating undertones inherent in that stance?” The Pus Pistols’ signature song Eat Meat contains the telling lyric “Beef, embrace the sinner. Beef, enjoy my winner. Beef’s how I talk. Beef’s how I walk. Why beat meat? Eat meat!” That’s definitely got some kit to it.

The Meat Vibrators

2009-07-27T13:41:00.000-07:00

“I remember when I saw Throw Rag live at the Coachella Music Festival when I was 16...” singer/songwriter Brandon Dixon reminisced as he sat in a booth at Sinaloa’s Mexican Restaurant. “That’s when The Meat Vibrators came together for me. I discovered my purpose in life.” Dixon says that while John Mayer thinks young people must wait on the world to change, Dixon favors his generation increasing the birth rate to force change. “It’s the only way to break the shackles of intolerant Republicanism” he said. Dixon, the father of 5 children in the 3 short years since he was 17, says that “the young must breed a new generation literally and figuratively in order for the world to change.” Dixon finds breeding vessels on FaceBook and craigslist.org. During last year’s campaign to legalize gay marriage, The Meat Vibrators gave a free concert opposing both sides of Proposition 8 at Jastro Park. Says Dixon: “Marriage is a trap, so why do we need it?” When asked if he is anti-gay, Dixon responded: “Absolutely not. If gay people want to increase their numbers in society they need to mix in some gay/lesbian comingling to maximize the chances that their shared DNA will ensure their survival. How couinterintuitive is it to rely on the randomness of the heteros' DNA in maintaining the roles of same-gender-oriented people in society?” The interview concluded when Dixon’s lesbian friend texted him saying that she was pregnant. “Hey, I’m just helping a brother out.” He concluded.

Missionary Position

2009-07-27T13:38:00.000-07:00

Melody Lynch (standing) and her musical and personal partner Samantha Raines define Bakersfield lesbian punk. SWIZZLE caught up with Lynch and Raines in their loft studio above the Woolworths building in downtown Bakersfield as they took time out for a vegan lunch from Ahimsa a restaurant named for the sanskrit word for non-violence to animals. When asked the story behind their signature song “Pierce Me, Pierce My Heart”, Lynch said that it was based on a real-life incident in which Lynch developed an infection after getting some new body piercing which put certain activities with Samantha on hold pending the work of the antibiotics prescribed by the doctor at the Kern Medical Center’s free clinic. From this adversity came powerful lyrics: “The way you love me is to hate me. The way you lift me is to berate me. I want to body slam you into me. I want to rocket you into dark eternity. I long to slice into you with a jagged rusted knife. I want to live your darkness into day I want to kill you into life.” Says Raines: “Yeah Melody wasn’t making any sweet music for a couple of months. We nearly broke up over that, but we had the payment on the Subaru so we decided to stick together and ride it out.”

The Alter Boys

2009-07-27T13:36:00.000-07:00

“Girls will be boys and boys will be girls. It’s a mixed up, muddled up, shook up world except for Lola. Lo-lo-lo-lo Lola...” sang Ray Davies of the Kinks and 35 years later from the ashes of Bakersfield’s two transvestite punk bands (Automatic Tranny and A Man Duh!) have come The Alter Boys featuring Tuck Adams (left) on bass and Kamal Towman (right) on vocals. Tuck and Kamal wish to dispel misconceptions about transvestites. Tuck believes that a transvestite must be able to wear girls’ skinny jeans without any vestige of manhood to ruin the image, but still be all man, whereas Kamal who wears only fishnet pantyhose below the waist in concert prides himself on being all-woman and says “Why can’t I be a woman with male genitalia and a boy’s name? Are there no girls out there with boys’ names? If I feel like a woman, am I not a woman?” Tuck says they chose the name The Alter Boys to be ironic given that they both were altar boys at “Our Lady of Perpetual Motion” church as they are fond of nicknaming their home parish. The “boys” can be seen performing at the Noa-Noa Club on South Union Avenue.

Formaldehyde Drip

2009-07-27T13:32:00.001-07:00

The second band that the legendary Jim Reid reviewed at Jerry’s Pizza was Formaldehyde Drip that many call the Jesus and Mary Chain of the new Bakersfield Sound. Similarities begin with powerful, angst-laden lyrics: “Three lovers and 7 blood baths later, I can’t scrape your smell off my skin. My brain is crawling with manic clowns all wearing your psychotic grin.” Reid said: “It reminds me of that post-heroin, alternative-rock-is-over-and-you’re-a-twenty-something-git kind of disillusionment that my brother William and I went through when we realized neither of us was Sir Paul Bloody McCartney.” Like their Scottish predecessors before them, Formaldehyde Drip channels a sonic drone of feedback that often overpowers the sparse lyrics and spare rhythms. Look for their debut album Obituary this November on Sub Pop Records.

My Chemical Toilet

2009-07-27T13:29:00.000-07:00

Incestuous is but one adjective that describes Bakersfield. When Shareun Lovejoy (left) discovered that her brother’s #1 groupie was Britknee Dixon (right) and that Shareun was transfixed by Brandon Dixon, they formed a group called Little Sisters. They picked up guitars and without any musical training set out to make music. They knew they needed a drummer and that is when they came across Song Lynch (center), the younger sister of the lead vocalist in Missionary Position. Soon, Little Sisters no longer sounded like the perfect moniker, and My Chemical Toilet was born. The girls do not have a signature song because all of their concerts are improvised to ensure their avant garden stance. And without any musical training, they have no way to transcribe the chords or lack thereof they play. Definitely edgy.

The Celibate Jerks

2009-07-27T13:26:00.000-07:00

SWIZZLE caught up to Jack Offermann 18 (left) and Spike Dangle 19 (right) standing in front of the Tropicana Motel’s cocktail lounge on Union Avenue where they perform 3 nights a week. The duo known as The Celibate Jerks were outside on a break observing California Penal Code which says that band members under 21 must leave the building within five minutes of finishing a set to comply with the law. Jack and Rick (their stage names) were discovered by local pastor Rev. Peter Handol who ministers to teenage male prostitutes with the purpose of setting them on a new path through artistic expression. Pastor Handol wanted to show the handsome teen hookers that there was a better way to make money. Says Jack: “I don’t know how many men have said I’m the answer to their prayers.” Spike observed: “When they first call out to God, you know you’ve gotten through to them.” When asked about recidivism, Spike said: “My days of being a cheap boy slut are over thanks to Pastor Handol. Now we perform until about 11:00pm and then minister one-on-one to the men that before would only have wanted us for our bodies.” Pastor Handol said “We ask for a $100.00 donation per contact and I let the boys keep $40 for themselves and I take the rest to continue the ministry.”

Robot Camp

2009-07-27T13:24:00.000-07:00

Kenny Trivett (left) and Kodie Becknell (right) hail from the “Joe Dirt” Delta Palms neighborhood near Taft Highway in Pumpkin Center and have grown up in the school of hard knocks, free cheese, rusted out Mustangs, fireworks accidents, multiple baby-daddys, and “uncles” in their 17 years on the planet. Says Kodie: “Bakersfield is a füçk!ñg robot camp tryin’ to make everyone fit into the groove and some of us don’t fit no groove. Look at me. I drink Mexican beer and smoke cigarettes with the illegals behind La Tormenta (a bar) and I really don’t speak no Spanish and they sure as hell don’t speak no English, but like the sh!t’$ cool.” “Yeah,” Kenny interjected. “They’re all cool and all. Hell, two of them even helped me fix the distributor on my 5.0 and that’s how we got ‘em in the band.” Robot Camp’s music is an odd fusion of country, mariachi, and rap. Imagine explicit lyrics about the frontmen’s white-trash existence coming out of performers wearing tight Wranglers and wife-beater t-shirts with horns and strings as backing instruments. Definitely worth a drive to La Tormenta to catch a gig.

A Null Digit

2009-07-27T13:20:00.000-07:00

Singer/songwriter Justyn McCahill (center) posed for the cover of this month’s issue of SWIZZLE showing off his humorous tattoo which happens to be A Null Digit’s logo. Flanked by Adrian Maplethorpe (left) on guitar and Doyle Pickett (right) on bass, A Null Digit performs Thursday through Sunday nights at the Westfair Lounge on Wible Road. Says Justyn: “Bakersfield always has acted like a monkey sticking its finger up the a$$ of another monkey so it just seemed perfect to run with that image. God knows it smells like a$$ around here! And none of us did Dave’s Tacos for lunch.” Indeed! Unfortunately, A Null Digit brought the interview to an abrupt close when Charles got too chummy and observed that the name of the band reminded him that he needed to make an appointment for his monthly prostate exam. Said McCahill: “No idiot does monthly prostate exams.” Charles retorted that his doctor said it was better to be safe than sorry. Slap! Smack!

But Wait! There’s More!!

2009-07-27T13:17:00.000-07:00

And finally, there’s Vasectomy ErectoMe that front man Deryck Jaysin Whitley (right) says will be the "bad" that puts the new Bakersfield sound on the map in much the same way that Nirvana suddenly made Seattle the home of a “scene” to be mined and exploited for corporate profit. Whitley, better known as Bizzy B, says that while it is great to pretend to have edge, it is better to actually have edge. Whitley was born in Oildale and was brought up by a single teenage mother. Says Bizzy B “Yeah, it’s pretty wild being 22, your mother’s 35, and your grandmother’s 48, but that’s Bakersfield. Girls mature sooner and get knocked up sooner.” When asked about the provocative nature of the band’s name, he said “Well, I like sex as much as the next guy, but as soon as I turned 18 I got a vasectomy because I know I don’t want brats running around. I always love when some chick says I knocked her up and I tell her it ain’t possible.” Vasectomy ErectoMe is currently in the studio recording with Nine Inch Nails mastermind Trent Reznor. Look for their debut CD sometime in early 2010.

Vendetta Rose Star

2009-07-13T20:19:00.001-07:00

Vendetta Rose Star our Corchigiwahwah (we haven't figured out which breeds are in her) continues to grow

This Is NOT Made Up

2009-07-05T19:41:00.000-07:00

A Bakersfield local does not like the city slogan "Bakersfield, life as it should be." and has mounted a campaign to replace it with "Bakersfield, a city of righteousness." Hurl! The dimwit is serious.

Now That's Just WRONG, But Oh So Funny

2009-07-02T10:27:00.001-07:00

Any man who has ever been an altar boy will laugh hysterically and those that do not laugh hysterically, need to get a sense of humor. To see the pictures larger, click on them!

2009-06-26T16:24:00.000-07:00

Up Front

Devoted fans and readers of SWIZZLE complained with sadness, despair, and disillusionment that no edition of this esteemed publication was issued forth for the month of May (nor even June for that matter). Charles did not realize that a two-month hiatus would throw readers into such paroxysms of disenchantment, but the unavoidable interruption in publication was due to the fact that Charles was deeply involved in creating the artwork for the makeover / renewal of the West Shores Chamber of Commerce building’s lobby, which—as this is being written—is receiving fabu responses down in Saltonland where the artwork now resides. The artwork had to be completed before Anne, Charles, and the ever-vibrant Elise took a trip to Jaw-Jah as Ray Charles intones the name of the state in his signature song Georgia On My Mind. To say that Charles learned a lot about the state is to put it mildly. In fact, in the state of Georgia, taggers apparently only “bomb” messages about Jesus as can be seen on the cover of this edition of SWIZZLE and unlike Bakersfield and its corny and meaningless slogan “Bakersfield…Life As It Should Be”, the city of Warner Robins has a truly boastful city slogan.

EDIMGIAFAD

2009-06-26T16:23:00.000-07:00

These letters, done in a perfectly manicured hedge and proudly displayed along the bustling Watson Boulevard, are the letters that begin the area’s rather brazen slogan. Charles has to slightly edit the words so as to keep things polite for SWIZZLE readers with sensitive ears and eyes. EDIMGIAFAD stands for “Every Day In Middle Georgia Is A Friggin’ Awesome Day!” Wow! Literally every day? Wow! A local rapper going by the nom de vox of E-Fun claims the letters stand for “Every Day In Middle Georgia Is Armed Forces Appreciation Day!” but Charles believes E-Fun has been bought off by the right-wing military-industrial complex and is secretly working as a double-agent for CNN News by putting a “spin” on the truth. E-Fun attempted to maintain the spin with a straight face. Remember E-Fun: fair and balanced. Truth, like FoxNews, cannot be stifled. Truth?? Want some? I got some!

Georgia Cares About Children

2009-06-26T16:21:00.001-07:00

And why would they NOT care about children? Well, they HAVE TO care given that the roads in the township of Warner Robins were designed from the outset to be purposely serpentine and exceedingly narrow to discourage speeding. The streets are literally wide enough for two Smart cars. Now just imagine being a deaf child. The youngster can see the road in both directions, but that is of precious little use because the lack arrow-straight roads makes impossible for the child to see that Chevy Tahoe careening around the bend at the posted 30 miles per hour. Now imagine the “slow children” (we call them the “differently intellectual” in California by the way) that are too dense to remember that playing in the street is a bad idea. Have no fear in Georgia! They have a sign for that too! One never knows when “Eddie” will decide to play in traffic.

Georgia Equals Gay Friendly!

2009-06-26T16:20:00.000-07:00

At a recent screening of Witch Hunt in Bakersfield, Sean Penn said “Shame! Shame on you, California!” referring to the anti-gay success of the “Yes on Proposition 8” which banned same-sex marriage. San Franciscans pride (pun intended) themselves on their gay friendliness, but who knew that Warner Robins would be soooo gay friendly? The Nu-Way weiners (sic) gay bar is for men who do not want to use their wieners (sic) in the old way—the old way is of course one man plus one woman. If you have an XY chromosome and want another XY chromosome to play with, Nu-Way may be the way to go!

Badcock&More

2009-06-26T16:19:00.000-07:00

Gay men—not that there is anything wrong with that—are sometimes as bad as straight women with respect to the men they choose. Most women and men who want men seek good men with whom to share a life. HOWEVER, there are those men—who like those women—like men who are bad for them because they love him and want to fix him and make him all better. Hurl! They live for taming the badboy. Some even like sinking into the dysfunctional ooze they create for themselves because having issues is cool. If you have an XY chromosome and want another XY chromosome owner to do you bad and then send you to perdition the Badcock & More bar is the way to seek your torture! Badcock: the name says it all.

ManTech

2009-06-26T16:18:00.001-07:00

As women will say on Oprah, being in a relationship with a sword wielder can be deliciously fun, IF he knows how to wield what nature gave him. However, if a man does not know how to use the tool that nature and God bestowed, he is of precious little use and can be replaced with a Harley Davidson. The ManTech bar is for men who have studied the science of male response and have honed their technique. The screening process for being allowed into the ManTech bar is rigorous with many training sessions and spot checks to ensure on-going excellence. Men seeking men adept in their skill base go straight (sic) to ManTech where the promise of a flawless technique is delivered!

Warner Robins Turns Its Back on Googie

2009-06-26T16:17:00.001-07:00

Charles grew up at Bob’s Big Boy…the home of the Big Boy double-decker burger that McDonalds ripped off for its Big Mac as well as their triple thick chocolate milkshakes that were unsippable through a straw. The Big Boy chain began in Glendale California and was subsequently franchised across the nation. Charles allowed himself to “enjoy” Frisch’s Big Boy in Ohio as a child. Anne delighted herself in Shoney’s Big Boy as a child in Warner Robins. In the 1990s, the Big Boy restaurants nearly disappeared for good as they were converted into Carrow’s that served vats of boring goo. Unfortunately, the rather rotund Big Boy no longer adorns Shoney’s because they wanted to expand their chain into areas covered by other Big Boy franchises so they dropped their signature statue in 1976 and replaced it with a nondescript teddy bear. Not cute! Charles was smitten with the above relic as Anne drove him and the previously mentioned renowned rapper E-Fun to this classic-but-long-abandoned Shoney’s Big Boy. Of course, Charles recognized it at once because the design is similar to all other Big Boy restaurants of the era. Charles wanted to transport it all straight to the Salton Sea. Charles wanted to buy it and turn it into his home away from home. Who would not want to live in a converted chain restaurant from the 1960’s? He adored it that much. Unfortunately, mid-century-modern restaurants like this one are often bulldozed by people without any sense of architectural history and heritage.

Houston Medical Center

2009-06-26T16:15:00.001-07:00

Pronounce it HOWstun not hYOUstun by the way. The Houston Medical Center received the sick-but-ever-vibrant Elise at 4:00 am the night she arrived in Georgia when she could keep NOTHING down. E-V-E was rushed to the emergency room by Anne and her grandmother Lucille who presided over her as doctors gave E-V-E an infusion of fluids and strong anti-nausea drugs. The trained medical professionals of the Houston Medical Center quickly rehydrated the ever-vibrant one and saw to it that her vacation would not be delayed as a result of eating poisoned food from the Pizza Hut in the Phoenix Airport. The work of Azi Azah Azam perhaps? Anne and Charles thank the Houston Medical Center for their diligence in making E-V-E’s visit to Georgia a virtually uninterrupted delight. As for Azi Azah Azam, more to come…

But Wait! There’s More!!

2009-06-26T16:14:00.001-07:00

As if Charles was not floored enough that in the Bible belt nudie / adult / XXX parlors are prominently advertised as being open at virtually every exit along the interstate, there was this chilling street name: Demon Valley Drive! Warner Robins High School’s mascot is a demon and the school is on Demon Valley Drive. Chilling! Charles guesses in this new Obamanation of diversity and tolerance that we must not point the finger of judgment even at demons. Charles is leading the charge to change the school’s mascot from the demons to the “nonjudgmental self-esteemicists” to lead the youngsters away from negative images that damage.

Grammar Lessons

2009-05-10T14:40:00.000-07:00

Charles has noticed all over Bakersfield where life is as it should be that people have emblazoned on their bumpers stickers that say "Our God is an AWESOME God!"

Grammar Lesson #1: Avoid Redundancy

The basic sentence is: God is God. Defining someone or something as itself is redundant, but it also communicates nothing. Other examples:
Water is water.
Syzygy is syzygy.
A hematoma is a hematoma.

Grammar Lesson #2: Avoid Modifiers The Contradict The Basic Message

The word "an" means one of several, so therefore the slogan "Our God is an awesome God" means that there are two or more awesome gods. Who knew? It also begs the question as to whether there are non-awesome gods. The theological ramifications are AWESOMELY staggering.

Grammar Lesson #3: Avoid Overused, Cliche Words

The word "awesome" is so overused that it literally has no meaning. Note the following sentences:

Our Pontiac Aztek is an AWESOME Pontiac Aztec.
Our flu is an AWESOME flu.
Our awesomeness is an AWESOME awesomeness.

Grammar Lesson #4: Avoid Possessives That Offend

The word "our" connotes a sense of territorial exclusivity and possible snootiness.

OUR kid is smarter than your kid.
OUR house is better than your house.
OUR dinner is an awesome dinner...and yours isn't.
Our dinner is an awesome dinner...and you can't have any.

Grammar Lesson #5: Avoid Describing People and Things That Transcend Description

Doing so only makes a person seem unintelligent and lacking in common sense.

-----

To those of you who NEED a bumper sticker that describes God...work harder at saying something with meaning.

And remember:

GOD IS!

Vendetta joins E-V-E

2009-04-30T18:36:00.000-07:00

A Corgi joins the Vallhund and the Lab.

Gato Negro

2009-04-20T19:07:00.000-07:00

Kitsch requires cool. The Telstar Lounge has discovered Mexican intention candles as the next BIG thing. Gato negro brings luck.

Chuparosas

2009-04-20T19:05:00.000-07:00

Need luck? You need the hummingbird or "chuparosas" (rose sucker).

Paz en el Hogar

2009-04-20T19:01:00.000-07:00

Need peace? You need Paz en el Hogar!

Rompe Bloque

2009-04-20T18:58:00.000-07:00

Need to break a blockage in your life? Rompe bloque!

Adan y Eva

2009-04-20T18:55:00.000-07:00

Adam and Eve...the lovers...enough said.

E-V-E and Charles "do" a Daddy-Daughter Dance

2009-04-03T19:11:00.000-07:00

What a night 'tis was. The Ever-Vibrant and Charles "48" went to their first "daddy-daughter dance" and had a blast. Daughters are meant to be enjoyed!!

BUY A MUSTANG AND LEARN TO DRIFT

2009-03-03T18:46:00.000-08:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3i2Q568aT8M

2009-02-14T06:03:00.000-08:00

Up Front: Strong Women

2009-02-14T06:01:00.000-08:00

Charles is quite aware of the special bond that fathers and daughters can have and he wonders aloud how daunting it must be for a woman to follow in her father’s footsteps especially if we are speaking of mid-century mindsets. Consider that even to this day, if a son follows in his famous father’s footsteps the measurement against the man is usually not nice. Now go back to the sixties and filter in the normal protectiveness of fathers. Although some would say that Jane Fonda has acquitted herself well in choosing to follow in father Henry’s footsteps, when her career began, tongues wagged that the sole reason for Jane’s success was because the elder Fonda had pulled strings. In the 1960s, she appeared in about two movies a year and was constantly compared to Henry. A Walk on the Wild Side saw Fonda portraying a prostitute which signaled that she was her own actress on her own terms. That had to have given old Henry a jolt. 1965 saw her career go into overdrive with the comedy Cat Ballou, in which she played a school teacher turned outlaw. Barbarella, a sci-fi spoof, came along in 1968 and established her as a sex symbol. Nevertheless, even as critics lauded her performances they still trotted old the senior Fonda and did their blah blah blah. Proving that she was her own person, Jane Fonda became an anti-war activist drawing intense scorn and ridicule during the Vietnam War for going to North Vietnam. Eviscerated in the press “Hanoi” Jane persevered, kept, working, and even overcame her own father’s scorn for her actions. She definitely proved that she was tougher than Henry himself could have imagined and it was this kind of new woman that several decades later would be sexy because she stood up to men. Equals are fun though sometimes unpredictable.

Charles’ Favorite Sinatra

2009-02-14T06:00:00.000-08:00

Another strong woman who had to suffer the slings and arrows of criticism rather than those of cupid was Nancy Sinatra, the daughter of THAT Sinatra. Most famous for the song These Boots Are Made For Walkin’, people assumed that daddy bought her a recording contract and that she came out of nowhere. The reality was different. She had spent four years recording and having success everywhere but the United States. Lee Hazelwood, a producer, took an interest in Nancy, had her sing in a lower voice, and embrace a more pop sound. Accompanied by the musical makeover was a visual makeover complete with blond hair and sexy go-go boots. Nancy Sinatra found her groove and with it created a rather successful recording career in her own right in the mid to late 1960’s in the good old USA. To this day she remains active singing at the ripe young age of 69 and enjoys living in Palm Springs where her father of course, once ruled.

Peggy Lee Gives Us Fever

2009-02-14T05:59:00.000-08:00

Never know how much I love you. Never know how much I care. When you put your arms around me, I give you fever that's so hard to bear. You give me fever when you kiss me, fever when you hold me tight. Fever in the morning. Fever all through the night. Sun lights up the daytime. Moon lights up the night. I light up when you call my name and you know i'm gonna treat you right. Now you listened to my story. Here's the point that I have made. Chicks were born to give you fever be it Fahrenheit or Centigrade…but what a lovely way to burn!

Peggy Lee you will always be Telstar Lounge perfection. Tell your sizzle…what a lovely way to burn.

Charles’ Valentine To Anne

2009-02-14T05:54:00.000-08:00

No doubt many men can extol the virtues of that special sweetheart in their lives, and truth be told we all should think about our sweethearts all of the time and not just on Valentine’s Day. Ideally we are aware of their presence in our lives on a daily basis and we give daily thanks for her presence. In numerous ways, Charles is fortunate that Anne has come into his life for she has focused it in the most positive of ways. Charles remembers sitting in childbirth classes with parents-to-be much younger than the dynamic duo and noting Anne taking to pregnancy and motherhood with every bit of her heart and soul. Anne’s career calling in life is to be a counselor working with students who face the horrors of unstable home lives, gang violence, poverty, and even murder. Anne has to be strong for them as they come to grips with their many emotional needs. Often, Anne reignites the spark in their lives. Many times though she comes home not only physically exhausted, but emotionally and mentally exhausted too. Charles cooks each night and does the laundry to take burden off of Anne. Charles and the ever-vibrant Elise, of course, want her attention too, because we miss her, love her, and want to spend time with her. Charles respects that Anne really tries to do it all, but he can think of no woman more deserving of a Happy Valentine’s Day than Anne.

A Weekend to Remember

2009-02-10T05:34:00.000-08:00

When E-V-E does a weekend in honor of President Lincoln, she really DOES the weekend. Start off with a festive Lincoln mask, proceed to drive 4 hours to an abandoned plastics manufacturing plant to snoop around, and end it with a snow storm.

Winter Steele MTV Biker Chick

2009-01-19T05:41:00.000-08:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a0vghlUn4kM
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nz-Hl6kddyM&feature=related

The 3000

2009-01-18T10:13:00.000-08:00

The ever-vibrant Elise has created "The 3000" in her secret laboratory. The 3000 which she says is a device "for girls or boys that flies up high to fifty feet into the air." is a most mysterious and wonderful device. Says E-V-E: "It can fly anywhere it has a ticket for. It has no dogs allowed except Rheti and Shuggie (her dogs). If you drink coffee and milk it will not stay very long. It hides under the blue chair. If you put it in the car it won't work either." Mysterious indeed. She goes on to say: "If you put it on a real plane it won't work either too. And that's it."

Angel Mikey, Happy, and Hearts by the ever-vibrant Elise

2008-11-25T17:27:00.000-08:00

Pinky Does Cuba

2008-11-11T06:24:00.000-08:00

Pinky sits among debris from Hurricane Paloma in Santa Cruz del Sur, Cuba, Sunday (11-9-08). Paloma weakened into a tropical storm over Cuba on Sunday after flooding the southern coast with crashing waves and a powerful storm surge on an island still recovering from two recent hurricanes. Poor Pinky went there for a Mojito and wound up mojado and cold. I guess now she knows that nothing good comes of Communism.

The Signature Norm Niver Martini

2008-10-28T05:13:00.000-07:00

From Anne who was taught by Norm Niver how to create the perfect gin martini in the anticipation of a great meal:

You must use Norm's aluminum ovaltine shaker, exact year unknown. It appears to hold about 6 ounces.

Norm instructed me to fill the shaker with ice, almost to the point of overflowing, pour in a capful of dry vermouth (although he named several others that he doesn't mind), then put the top on the shaker and fill it with gin just until you see the gin beginning to rise from within the little holes in the top. Then put the cap on, shake like the dickens, and serve 2 martinis, side by side, exactly even, with one olive each.

Norm Niver Night

2008-10-26T16:50:00.000-07:00

Friday, October 24th was an auspicious night in the world-famous Telstar Lounge as it feted the Salton Sea legend known as Norm Niver. In attendance were Laura, Lauretta, Tami and Timmie, Denise and Jeffie, the power couple known as Benzie, Eleni, Olivia, Noah, Anne, the ever-vibrant Elise, and of course the mercurial Charles. New friends were made as guests dined on Peg Leg Pete, home-made tamales, and impeccable drinks. Norm was driven to the event by Charles in the delightful seafoam green 1963 Thunderbird. That night, more understood the need to pay attention to the Salton Sea, but more importantly, Norm left with the knowledge that Bakersfield is an outpost he can rely on for kindness and hospitality.

Thank you Norm for letting us celebrate you.

Peg Leg Pete

2008-10-26T16:37:00.000-07:00

Jennie Kelly of the East Valley Historical Society noted to me that one of the delights of the North Shore Yacht Club was a dish called Peg Leg Pete. A little culinary research resulted in the following recipe:

Marinade:
Mix a bottle of Italian salad dressing, a can of Sprite soda, and a cup of good soy sauce.

Preparation:
The marinade will be enough for approximately 12-18 chicken legs. Put the chicken legs in Ziploc bags and divide the marinade equally among the bags. Marinate them overnight in the refrigerator.

Cooking:
Prepare a hot grill and place the marinaded chicken legs in a disposable aluminum roasting pan with a bit of olive oil in them to prevent sticking. Turn the legs every five minutes to ensure perfect cooking. Cook time should be about 20 minutes. Grilling them directly is also possible, but will result in dryer meat.

Prepare for guests to be delighted.

All you need is..

2008-10-19T04:45:00.000-07:00

Love is all you need.

Unique Bakersfield Cuisine of Just Basque Food?

2008-07-30T06:28:00.000-07:00

When I was getting my car detailed at the local Rainbow Car Wash, I came across this most interesting offering at their "restaurant" and immediately thought to myself that I had found proof of Bakersfield's unique cuisine. Then again, it could just be Basque food which locally means greasy French fries, spaghetti with ketchup, flavorless watery soup, greasy fried chicken, flavorless watery beans, wilted lettuce salad with insufferably acidic dressing, chilled low-quality red wine, and pickled tongue. Hey, if people will eat tongue, they will no doubt eat gonads too.

No Entendre Allowed

2008-04-26T16:22:00.000-07:00

As if the Rifleman shooting his "gun" from his hip were not suggestive enough, there is this. Did people not think things through?

GONE

2008-03-27T16:58:00.000-07:00

The Rancho Bakersfield Motel aka "Let's Eat" is history. It has been bulldozed to the ground. Bakersfield...life as it should be.

We've Only Just Begun...

2008-01-28T05:38:00.000-08:00

Doubtful that this former bank on Chester was a Crocker, but any reason to invoke Karen Carpenter is worth it.

International House of Pancakes

2008-01-28T05:35:00.000-08:00

Not IHOP! Say the whole thing. The new IHOPs are hella ugly, but the old ones...