Reprise

There are quite a few things that are really wonderful about email and electronic communications like speed, ease, and regularity. Then, there are things like real communication which gets left at the doorstep as one cannot read anything into an email as there is no real time connection, no idea if things were flat or fabulous. It is all how you read the text and or read the entire context of the conversation. In my world, watching the client is key to really understanding what makes them tick. Case in point. The other newbie that sent me back to the drawingboard with an ad really LIKED the ads. Liked the attitude (a little smarty pantsy). Liked the graphics. And, she saw where it could go....so baby did not need to throw the poor baby right out of the bath water.

Let's just say, I was close to fist pumping and jumping up out of  my seat (pending my ankle cooperating) just in the sheer appeal that I had not missed it entirely. Phew.

And I quote the WSJ "The Finger Lakes region, where yogurt makers dot the landscape, has even been dubbed "The Silicon Valley of Yogurt."

 

New York's Boom in Yogurt Is Not So Sweet Yogurt in New York is Evolving From Sugar-Laden Fruit Flavors Toward Savory, Middle Eastern Flavors

By Nancy Matsumoto (direct link to the Wall Street Journal Online)
June 18, 2014 9:30 p.m. ET

 

At a SoHo cafe run by the yogurt maker Chobani, mini-iPad-toting servers take orders for unlikely lunches, such as plain yogurt topped with hummus, olive oil, a spice mix and lemon zest.

At the Chelsea Market stand of Sohha Savory Yogurt, diners customize their bowls of Lebanese-style yogurt with the likes of mint, olives, cilantro and spicy harissa oil.

And in Albany, legislators passed a bill this spring to make yogurt the official state snack.

New York is enjoying a golden age of yogurt, with the number of yogurt plants rising to 29 from 14 between 2005 and the present, according to Gov. Andrew Cuomo's office. The Finger Lakes region, where yogurt makers dot the landscape, has even been dubbed "The Silicon Valley of Yogurt."

At the same time, yogurt in New York is evolving from its adolescent infatuation with sugar-laden fruit flavors to a perhaps more mature phase that skews toward savory and Middle Eastern flavors.

And these latest yogurt offerings come from both large companies, such as New Berlin-based Chobani, and small startups such as Sohha, which is made in a small professional kitchen in Brooklyn's Sunset Park neighborhood.

Martin Simov, one of the employees at Sohha, makes a savory yogurt wrap for a customer. ap for a customer at Chelsea Market. Andrew Lamberson for The Wall Street Journal

"Yogurt has for too long been a sugar-delivery mechanism," said Siggi Hilmarsson, founder of Siggi's, which is made upstate in Yates County and sold nationwide.

When Mr. Hilmarsson arrived from Iceland to attend business school at Columbia University, he was stunned to find that some yogurts contain as much as 26 grams of sugar a serving. One of his first flavors was orange-ginger with an austere 9 grams of sugar in a 150-gram serving.

David Faulkner, London-based global market analyst with the market research firm Mintel, dates the beginning of the New York yogurt renaissance to the "massive growth" of Chobani, founded by Turkish immigrant entrepreneur Hamdi Ulukaya, who "blindsided everyone and launched the Greek yogurt boom."

Now, Mr. Faulkner said, "people are much more open to looking at alternate yogurts, like skyr [strained like Greek yogurt, resulting in a thick, high protein product], Lebanese styles and...kefir [a fermented milk drink]."

The savory, vegetable-based flavors produced by Blue Hill Yogurt, based in Pocantico Hills, such as beet, carrot and tomato, grew out of recipes at Blue Hill Farm's restaurants, Blue Hill and Blue Hill at Stone Barns, said David Barber, president and co-owner of Blue Hill Farm. Mr. Barber's brother, chef Dan Barber, used them as condiments.

The grass-fed organic cow's milk and vegetables come from small family farms in the Northeast, including the Barber family farm in the Berkshires; sugar content ranges between 8 and 10 grams for a 6-oz. serving.

At the Chobani cafe on the corner of Prince Street and Broadway, regular Skyler Steward, director of analytics at the nearby ad agency Code & Theory, said that as an Arab-American, he was drawn to the café's "really authentic food," including a savory yogurt soup and the za'atar spice mix topping like the one his mother makes.

Besides yogurt in a bowl topped with cucumber, olive oil, fresh mint and sea salt, other popular savory dishes feature smoked salmon and dill or watermelon and feta, items, said Peter McGuinness, chief marketing officer for Chobani.

All of the items can be ordered on the Turkish analog of the bagel, known as simit. When the cafe opened in June 2012, its menu consisted mostly of sweet options. Since then, it has evolved to being close to 65% savory, said Mr. McGuinness.

Sohha grew from an award-winning business plan that co-founder John Fout wrote for his M.B.A. program in entrepreneurship at Baruch College in 2012. He and his co-founder, wife Angela, couldn't find yogurt that was sugar- and preservative-free like in Angela's native Lebanon, so they began making their own with mostly grass-fed cow's milk from a Poughkeepsie co-op called Hudson Valley Fresh, and selling it at farmers' markets.

The couple launched their business in May 2013 when they found a space in Sunset Park that would meet the strict hygiene requirements of the yogurt-making process.

Besides two kinds of yogurt—plain and tangy—dips and beverages, Sohha sells five toppings, including a za'atar blend of thyme, sumac and sesame seeds, and an "Everything Bagel" topping that mimics the classic New York bagel.

"My wife keeps adding toppings and I tell her to stop," says Mr. Fout, "but maybe it's good; people who come for lunch every day won't get bored." Angela Fout's latest topping combination: tahini, carob molasses and hazelnuts.

By the end of the year, Mr. Fout expects to be in 15 farmers' markets and several Brooklyn and Manhattan cafes and small stores, and to hit his plant's capacity of 1,000 pounds of strained yogurt a week.

Savory yogurt, he said, "is where the future's going to be."

Live from the electronic drawing board.

We are on to the next chapter and it still keeps coming. Got a call from a new client yesterday who needs ads for internet advertising on a very obtuse, "nerdy" product--and wanted to have a little zing! They need copy, cute headline (although cute may not be the word to fit the "nerdy" personna) and layouts for a meagre sum of money, but I took it as a new client walking in the door is a new client walking in the door. I forgot what it is to nurse these new clients into being older clients who we cherish and value for their work, friendship and the road time we have put in together.

It has been wild. All the farmers are needing things from my friend Melissa who is starting a new, big idea CSA to the local sheeps milk yogurt company who likes the label I did for them, but now wants it a bit rougher to make it more "artisan".  Another producer is on the front end of figuring out what he wants to do. The beer I rebranded is coming along....but more than the single hit they had started with but an entire program change, packaging and nomenclature approach. Slow. The wine I started on is coming to fruition with the client holding my hand on color and layout which, now as a content provider, feels very odd being told what colors to make things. I mean, I think I am the expert here....this is not buying carpet squares....But I will behave, be quiet and submit the bill (soon, I hope). A big local food manufacturer called me  (flattered) and I worked flat out last week on a project to find out that they were not communicating well and they wanted illustration (though during our meeting so the 28 hrs I spent on intense design work for a labelling system was for naught. I am wondering if I can charge them for the development fee (I should) despite their change in plans.  Time is money and their changing their minds is expensive. The meter was thrown. Bills need to be paid.

A depiction of  (example of Lubki illustration/art style)Солнце, Луна, времена года и двенадцать месяцев в виде знаков Зодиака. Лубок. Конец XVII -начало XVIII в.

A depiction of  (example of Lubki illustration/art style)

Солнце, Луна, времена года и двенадцать месяцев в виде знаков Зодиака. Лубок. Конец XVII -начало XVIII в.

I am working on the new Rongo. Quel fun. The Rongo, as you remember from way back, is a local watering hole known historically as The Rongovian Embassy to the United States. It's an old bar founded in political thinking and local "can do" with a mythological ethos, all sorts of fun talk about what is Rongovia--and an older following who want their bar back again. So, in the spirit of Ulysses, a group of motivated people have formed a group to fund and bring back the Rongo. I am gifting the branding and print work to retain essentially, the rich visual traditions and assets that the Rongo has, and revisit it / refresh it to reflect the new group and their hopes for this institution. It has been fun putting pen to the lion, the sun face etc. There is a fantasy map of this place which I plan to redraw in a very lobok / lubki manner (you remember Lubok! You don't?? fabulous, naive folk art from Russia-- take a look, you will get it).

The Carta marina (Latin "map of the sea" or "sea map"),[1] drawn by Olaus Magnus in 1527-39, is the earliest map of the Nordic countries that gives details and placenames. Only two earlier maps ofScandinavia&n…

The Carta marina (Latin "map of the sea" or "sea map"),[1] drawn by Olaus Magnus in 1527-39, is the earliest map of the Nordic countries that gives details and placenames. Only two earlier maps ofScandinavia are known, those of Jacob Ziegler(Strasbourg, 1532) and Claudius Clavus (15th century).

Detail, Carta Marina.

Detail, Carta Marina.

I also am taking inspiration from the celebrated map, Carta Marina (or the Map of the Sea) which features crazy wonderful sea monsters, great typography and a scale of some sort that turns corners (see upper left corner of the map). I love the palette, the randomness of the typography, the way the water is described and the funny mountains.  It represents a much happier world (imagine this map with nuclear silos, airforce bases, downed ships, UFO sightings, and McDonalds?) than this one now...and it appears that the world to this fellow, might not have been absolutely flat...but that is my two cents. Lets just say with the map of Rongovia, the Rongovian Crests and Rongovian history to create, there is plenty to do.

Gotta go. There are legends and fables to create.

Happy June(?)!

Can you believe it?

Kitty home until tomorrow. We take her up to Syracuse for a breathtakingly early flight to San Francisco for her summer internship with the San Francisco Mime Troupe, where she will assist the costume designer while living at the company and being provided one meal a day and a little pocket money for this and that. Not enough to cover food...but maybe it will cover her subway tokens. An adventure none the less in a beautiful, fun city--travelling with these interesting people (the mime troupe is a political street theatre group), going to all the terrific parks in the area...So, she is going to get a big dose of interesting...with a sprinkle of special and a dollop of change. All is good on that front.

Alex is back in NYC starting his semester which seems to be right up his alley. He is spending time in the darkroom and shooting quite a bit. He is feeling a bit lonely, but has not really reached out to friends and to places he can make new acquaintances. So, maybe this will be the mother of invention (this, being loneliness)--we can hope. He has shot some 4x5 film in his new cigarbox camera that Leah kindly made for him...and he is powering through with film and digital and is talking a mile a minute at trying his hand at two and a quarter, and some big high res digital cameras they are using in his shooting class. He is cheery and chipper...and is doing stuff like walking across the Brooklyn Bridge and enjoying being in the moment.

Work is busy here. Quite a few publications on the desk...along with the finalizing of the wine project I was working on. The direction is good...and I am pushing against it (providing way beyond the scope of what was quoted) to help sell in this design which will  (I know) drive sales to a product that is so quiet that it was probably missed on the shelf. No more missing now. Hello Hot Pink. Hello Orange on a blue bottle. That is exciting.

I also had a breakthrough with this beer brand refresh project I am working on. I was fighting the given asset (logo) they had, and was really walking around it during my sketch process. I finally had a moment and figured it was time to dive in, stop bitching and start making lemonade out of these here lemons. From that point on, the work has evolved and is very interesting and really solves the client's problem tastefully. Now for the rule setting. You see, the trick to this project is that the client want s funky --(not bad smelling but more "artsy?") look and feel...along with the name of the company, the location, the name of the variety, the funky (meaning smells bad) illustration/logo they currently have, and then, a signature illustration (he likes pin-ups). I have already gotten on my feminist high horse (using fancy big words like misogynistic and stuff) to point up that the world has moved on it's axis and women drink beer too. I suggested that we look at illustrations that have a point of view and are cute/funny, without being so damned old boy about the whole thing. The client is a sweet person who just does stuff cause he can...and poor man...gets a dose of me stomping around with my stinking crusades. He seems to be open to change...and seems to listen to my one man tirades....so I am blessed this way. Anyway...I finally have a handful of interesting layouts to show him so we can transition his beer from being invisible at the store, to being one of the "cool ones" that get prime space (and therefore, better sales). Believe it or not, design is definitely going to influence whether sales are going to improve or not. I am impatient to see where he lands this week. Should be interesting (for good or bad).

Eighty today. Perhaps the lake after work?

More later.

Class of 2014

She wore the finish line flag. Seriously. Kitty wore the finish line flag to graduation in the form of a cute dress I got for her via a new online favorite: edropoff (http://www.ebay.com/usr/edropoff?_trksid=p2047675.l2559) on ebay. EDropoff is a consignment, used couture site that has some very elegant things (ie Chanel) down to things more perceivable. I bought her a few things for her birthday (a vintage, silk Diane Von Furstenburg for one), and was taken by this crazy checked dress which I thought might be fun to pursue a job or just to sport as Kitty is a dress person too. I thought she would like the dress, turns out...big hit. And, as we were summing up how excited we were with the graduation et al, I said to her that it just seemed so right that she wore a finish line flag to commencement. She hadn't thought of it that way...but somehow knew, albeit unconsciously, that it was the way it needed to be.

So graduation was a perfect day. HIgh skies, low humidity, high excitement, high ideals, high thinking. Kitty had moved from the blues of the night before to "on"--in presentation mode for the show. She sparkled and glowed with Hannah LIbby on one side, and Susie S. to the other--two glorious companions to progress from being students to being alumni in the world. We had lots of great speeches focused on being yourself, carrying the Hampshire ideals and tenets into the world--fighting for what is right for yourself, your people, your world. It was a singular moment to be greeted by this larger than life person, the baby you nursed, the child you shared the emergency room with, the sketch partner, co-conspiritor and friend--with her arms out, her eyes glittering, and her being...so so there. I was incredibly moved in that moment---one of those times that the background freezes and goes still...and through that focus, that tunnel of cognition, that this dear person was one with the now, the then and the future. It was a moment of recognition of all the blessings I have been handed--and most particularly, the gift of family and my dear ones. I am grateful to be handed this moment of passage, of change and of growth. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else though I have to admit, it is a bit itchy.

image.jpg

Kitty and her finish line flag dress with Hannah Libby (left). Hampshire College Graduation: Class of 2014, Amherst MA.

Last Dance

On the way to Amherst. We are talking about those things summer, the steam on the windows, the rain and how it alters that which we see. It is raining cats and dogs, with the windows steaming up. We left Trumansburg around ten after loading the car, gathering up stuff, Rob directing our carpentry team (they are replacing a floor in my mother-in-law's kitchen while we all are away). We got Ms. Grove settled...and oops,the cats! (thanks for the reminder).

We are talking about arrival times in Amherst, departure times for New York City, departure times for San Francisco, and arrival times for the Luckystone Lodge. The first half of the family left earlier this morning to get on their way and to Kitty in advance of the small army and commissary being moved in the Wonderbus. 

The Wonderbus is carrying  a huge strawberry rhubarb crumble (I have discovered the world of crisp, crumbles, cobblers and grunts) from these gigantic, healthy rhubarb canes I bought at the farmers' market, a pan on marinated fresh asparagus, a dish of marinated green beans, and huge jars of marinated mushrooms, artichokes etc. We have nuts, and cheese, crackers and olives. And I plan on composing all of these things on my big melamine, provencal trays to up the game a bit. We have a keg of Red Byrd Cider and a small keg of beer (both in a cooler immersed in ice). I have a mini present chest of tattoos, food jewels, funny cameos, and a few little sets to give as parting quelques choses for those that are near and dear. Given this graduation is devoid of caps and gowns, of tassels and treasures--I figured tattoos might be a nice offer to give a gift of shared graphics. We are entertaining a crew at Kitty's mod tonight so there will be all of us (and our birthday boy, Rob) which makes 6, Kitty's housemates--6, and then assorted friends, families, and associates. There might be a crew..but along with a stack of pizzas, we will be good. This is a small offering...probably not as big or as fancy as I would like-- but I hope it will amuse and entertain.

Tomorrow is the day of graduation combined with the reality of moving out before 10 on Sunday. It is going to be very stressful and emotional for Kitty--and we will need to be there to have her lean on us to get going. Granted, she has had some weeks to prepare, but there have been no solid deadline until tomorrow, and there have been other more wonderful things to do, experience for one last time, people to visit with, chapters to conclude. Kitty has been dancing through the end of the semester and the last dance is tomorrow. Sure, we can all be reasonable and rational about this, but truly for me (and I am not even living this, she is), I get a bit choked up knowing that the last dance is coming, the last spin, the last twirl, the last dip--and then silence....for a few weeks until the new caller comes on stage, arranges the sets and the music starts again-- in a new place with new people. We have been there, and as it happened, maybe not been as conscious of the ending and the beginning as it was the first time of something so monumental,  But given where we are now, we have had a few endings and beginnings, and this change for my first child gives this particular time an extra poignant twist--watching her get on the path that she determines. She will be making the right choices with this strong grounding of friends, learning, and experiences she has gotten from Hampshire.  None the less, bittersweet moments to watch, share and embrace.

Enabling a good life.

What a nice day. Sure, there was lots of work getting all sorts of things off my desk, but I had pre-graduation weekend prep to take care of too...and I have adorabibble Alex Cassetti home. I am such a fortunate girl! I got the stuff done and out.

Saw the Physical Therapist to the Stars, a one, Mr. Jim Cunningham who I love and adore. He is a delight, kind and truly puts this body up on the jacks and whales on this stiff, swollen ankle. Though sometimes  being in the presence of Mr. Cunningham is not much of a party, chatting it up about his world of iron men competitions, 50 mile bike rides, and what it is to truly be a master in the PT world makes up for any ouches or oohs. We are working on stepping over my bright orange cane (I am pretending I am jumping over the broom as in a marriage ceremony and it makes it a bit more festive), on lateral movement with a band, and some stretching. After my 40 minutes with the Physical Therapist to the Stars, I am feeling a bit run over, and frankly, around 9 p.m. it is hard to function though I must admit, sleep never fails me (which is a huge gift).

Nabee Socks

Nabee Socks

Jim approves of the compression sock torture I am doing. And he approves of my new shoes (I needed more of a solid platform with a bit more support--Merrills--matte black clog type things). As an aside, look at these cute compression socks from Nabee>>. They are the best so far. The days of the granny socks are almost over (though Jim tells me that the black diamond pattern is better than the flesh colored ones...no duh...but we have to do better than that!) I really feel there is a huge opportunity for those who need "aids" like canes, compression socks, crutches, wheelchairs and the like to create good looking things so being enabled is more than just having tools to live the best life you can-- but enabling to live the best life you can and do it in a way that is fun, functional and stylish. Why is being enabled such a functional thing? For those in need of help, they are the ones that most need a spiritual lift, a happy factor in those tools to make them not just enabled, but cool...not pathetic "poor thing" but "hey, way to go!". This is an opportunity to allow all of us who have been given time to live our lives happily, do do it in the most enriched way possible. And why does making something stylish need to cost a zillion more dollars? If IKEA can bring good design affordably into every house in the freaking WORLD... what is the IKEA for these types of tools, these types of choices? I am seeking them out. If anything, its a list with links. But there should be something/ some entity that takes this all seriously. Living life fully is a serious matter.

Here are some resources:

Canes: OMHU canes.
"Omhu is a design concern that makes premium medical equipment and accessories. Danish for “with great care,” Omhu was founded on the belief that life is imperfect and beautiful. Creative Director and President, Rie Nørregaard began work on OMHU in 2009 with its now signature cane. Yet Omhu began by virtue of necessity. When Rie’s family faced the need to outfit the rapidly changing lives of four aging parents, she eagerly took on the task of finding the best-designed aids for daily living. She found she had ventured into a sea of grey; found nothing bearing even the minimum evidence of acceptable design acumen. As the mother of two small children, Rie had seen the proliferation of diversifying baby products and accessories: products that explored different brand identities, price points, and design principles. The abundance in baby gear juxtaposed against the dearth of well designed mobility aids for anyone past infancy felt especially stark. It was obvious to the trained designer what needed to be done. Having worked for years at companies like Smart Design and Frog Design—working at the former in a small pioneering team that designed and launched OXO kitchen tools — Rie understood superior performance and vibrant design were not mutually exclusive. She then teamed with Susy Korb and Susan Towers—two experienced luxury marketing strategists — to take on the curious task of outfitting the differently abled. Omhu has become a movement on top of being a business, with an attitude toward design as well as the circumstances of life. Because with great care, life may be imperfect, and also beautiful."

I believe that OMHU has a relationship with SABI with their canes being marketed at the SabiRoam>> Sabi has Yves Behar / fuse project working on pillboxes, pill management and storage for them. I think there is something here..but feels a bit TBD, and not fleshed out enough to match my fantasy of the IKEA for enabling.

Quickstep Crutches

Quickstep Crutches

Then there is this amazing company I stumbled over while trying to figure out a cool crutch should I have needed it post wheelchair: Thomas Fetterman , a trained product designer who had to use crutches since his childhood due to contracting polio. The dude knows what he is doing. He has crutches with customized tips that can take you from walking on the beach, to ice, to rain. He has focused on materials to really make using a crutch not such a jarring, harsh experience, but a honed tool, designed for each environment--again, enabling life to continue in the tullest way. Plus, he has cool crutches from all over the world that can fill all the needs that life throws you.

I found Fetterman because I had found these Quickstep folding crutches in Europe and wanted to see if they had them here. Of course, the expert has them at Fettermans.

Wheelchairs, I have yet to pursue. But the idea of a wheelchair in it's updated form still relies on the form /factor of the wheelchairs one sees in images from the Civil War and earlier. Now that we have new materials, micro and nano technology, computers, ports, USBs etc. why shouldn't the wheelchair become more than wheels to move you from location to location. Why shouldn't it be able to move up and down as well as horizontally? Why shouldn't it be able to climb stairs, and negotiate odd terrain? Why shouldn't it be able to be connected with Google Earth? or MapQuest and take you from here to there without steering? Why shouldn't there be better storage/hauling? And the list goes on.

Time does not. Need to wink out for now. To quote our yute (the way they say "Youth" in NYC), "peace out".

 

New things.

Quick one here. I was researching a bunch of stuff on the web and learned about a free vector program that is a basic, no bells and whistles, crowd sourced option called Inkscape. Need to do a bit more work on that, but hey. ITS FREE. And, if you were on a desert island with access to the web (or a hotel room and your illustrator hit the bricks) you could at least do stuff (or at least I could do stuff). But, if you are a Vector Maven (I am)--here is more to crow about. Take a look.

Did I mention I am kind of delighted about this one?

One more. With all the craziness around passwords and security, many of us went out and changed all of our passwords...and then, of course, I did more research and subscribed to 1Password.com. It was just getting too nutty, and 1 Password seemed to be a good place to sync all mof my lists between all of the files and computers and tablets and and and....

This is what 1 Password says about themselves:

"Password is a password manager that goes beyond simple password storage by integrating directly with your web browser to automatically log you into websites, enter credit card information, fill registration forms, and easily generate strong passwords.

Your passwords, identities, and credit cards, are just some of the confidential information that 1Password stores in one secure place, protected by the only password you will need to remember.

1Password is available for Mac, Windows, iPhone, iPad, and Android."

Thats it for now. The Trumansburg Farmers'  Market opens tonight so I have to amscrray.

Ciao.


Stumbling Down Memory Lane: Saturday Nights.

So, Robbie sidetracked me yesterday as I was going deep into something that did not need to be pursued--and had me rambling on about Saturday nights (actually, because last night was a Saturday night) and pushed me to take you to this point in my life--so sour, dour and my goodness, so happy to have that in the way back machine, versus my life today. Tombo, my brother will relate as he is instrumental to the fun we could derive from being parked in the Saturday night purgatory we were left in.

Saturday nights were often the night my parents would go out to dinner at their friend's house. No kids allowed. No kids invited. Kids not optional. Matter of fact, kids were never optional. These parties were couples in party clothes, drinking too much and having some sort of showy food (aspic, for example)....listening to some crazy music and the like. If they were convening at your house, "the kids" needed to come downstairs in their jimmy jammies and kiss all the smelly adults before they were bundled up to go to bed. It was a progression from one friend to the other...the kissing of people I did not know...It was very odd and uncomfortable...It was cute when we were younger, but college-aged was pushing it. No really. The concept of hiding in the shower was not an alien one.

Prior to the Saturday Party, There was lots of preparation from more makeup and perfume, to nicer clothing and of course the babysitter (who was part of the scene even until I was through college). I lived in a household that was brimming with rules (spoken and unspoken)--from how to behave to the mandated nights out curfew, and lights on wake up. No variations, no changes, no choices...so get in line. Saturday nights, when my parents went out, was formatted within an inch of it's life whether you liked it or not, this was the program. The t.v. was the same parents or not...but it was flavored by not having the grown ups around....but tragic within the context of my looking at this as a parent and as an older (56 yr old) child. Here's what it was.

1960s Dippty Do styling commercial noting how the product can help ladies achieve the latest "big curls" look. Subscribe to Captain Bijou! More vintage videos, trailers and commercials are added almost daily! To buy classic films, westerns, serials, commercials and vintage television shows on DVD -- plus original movie posters, autographs and collectables -- be sure to visit Captain Bijou's website, www.captainbijou.com.

Before the sitter came, the singular "babysitter night food" was taken out of the freezer, arranged on a cookie sheet and baked at 350˚ for about an hour. This food, too, was formatted. We always had frozen pot pies (from Krogers-- house brand at $.35 a piece (read--they were cheap) with a choice of either beef, turkey or chicken. They all were sublime with a side of some tortured frozen vegetable (green beans, peas)...and that was dinner. There was a trick to eating the pies--something I took up the gauntlet to master every Babysitter night...which was to eat the pie without in any way sullying the perfect foil pie plate (which were saved to use to kill the slugs in the garden with flat beer). I would eat the top--lifting it off without crumbing it, dish out the inside and then after that, scraping the inside crust of any gravy enriched goo, and then finish by eating the remainder of the crust that touched the pan. The pie was mainly flour and crisco, with the inside being mainly a flavored gravy with a few peas, frozen carrots and a chunk or two of meat like material. It was so predictable just like the rest of the evening....but what a way to start this adventure. It set the stage for all of us to settle in for an evening in front of the black and white t.v. and the lack of Saturday programming that existed in Pittsburgh for that time slot and day.

I do not know what it was about t.v. in Pittsburgh during  the mid sixties to mid seventies but it was limited to 4 channels (one being Channel 13--"Educational T.V") and the others being very regionally based and programmed. One show was hokier than the other...and insipid, dumb, or very vernacular--and that was the stuff I was most attracted to. Saturday nights were prime for vernacular t.v. that much like watching St. Peter being hung upside down on a cross, or Saint Lucy showing us her eye that had been taken out of her head, it took patience, a skewed sense of humor and of course sheer boredom to make it seem as spectacular as it was.

The only shows on Channel 13--the educational channel were "Mr. Rogers Neighborhood" (a hometown, Pittsburgh favorite with all sorts of inside banter about places we know, people we know etc.), Julia Childs and her cooking, those oil painter guys, and that was about it.  The "E" in "ETv" was horrifying--with badly dressed educators educating in a very old school way via a new media. On the other channels, some of the sidebar shows--particularly the claymation, "Davy and Goliath" (a vision of what could happen if the religious people ran the networks with sickeningly sweet homilies about how to be a "good" person with the call and response by a dopey dog and his socially conscious, friendly white boy owner. Talk about exclusionary. Gumby and Pokey were in the same vein, but their didn't have as obvious a message and the sheer wonder that someone had approved the concept of a kid who looked like a used pink pearl eraser with legs and arms--made anything seem possible.


1970s Flashback: Bill Hillgrove appears on the game show "Bowling for Dollars" with host Nick Perry on WTAE-TV Channel 4 in Pittsburgh.

We would open the evening generally with an hour of the regional, "Bowling for Dollars" with Nick Perry (who in the future was known for his "666" lottery scam (1980) , a t.v. show that highlighted regional bowlers, competing for a cash prize in front of a studio audience. No duh. Every show at that time had a studio audience on WTAE. As none of us knew how to bowl, how to score or anything having to do with bowling, it was a bit confounding to figure out who was ahead, who was winning etc...but the shirts, the verve, the energy and the way they could fling these heavy balls and yet  end with their fingers pointing to the ceiling and their back leg jauntily kicked in the air was way beyond all of us. Plus, there was alway corny Nick Perry there in his plaid jacket to remind us of what fun we were having...and how fun Pittsburgh and Pittsburghers were.

Alas, we were stuck in the living room at 130 Yorkshire Road with a dog ready to bite us (he did, inevitably), filled up with pot pies and wishing we could be in the audience with Nick and everyone. It was an impossibility that we didn't even brooch with our keepers. No One would go see Bowling let alone anything else. We would stand in front of the t.v. dumbfounded trying to be  those bowlers without the balls, or lanes--posing in front of an 18"  black and white t.v. We would really try to make this fun...but somehow missed the inside joke (as usual).

After "Bowling for Dollars" and our warm-up in the corner of the living room, striking the poses that the bowling pros did while they pitched their balls down shiny alleys for cash prizes--we would wait for the real beginning of the evening....an hour of Studio Wrestling.

Bruno Sammartino. Isn't he quite the thing.

Bruno Sammartino. Isn't he quite the thing.

It seems that we were in the middle of something singularly Pittsburgh, watching Studio Wrestling every Saturday evening after dinner (babysitter or not). I googled it...just to make sure my memory and imagination sync'ed with any reality and it did. Studio Wrestling was distinctly a Pittsburgh thing...the true predecessor of WWF (World Wrestling Federation) who produced the megastars of Hulk Hogan, Jessie Ventura, The Sheik, The Ultimate Warrior, Macho Man Randy Savage, and Stone Cold Steve Austin. It was the firm foundation that this entertainment leviathan and feeder for national politics was hatched--and there we were, at 130 Yorkshire Road, riding the wave of this nascent media segment with focus and determination not to be left behind.

We would thrill to the likes of Bruno Sammartino, the pride of Pittsburgh, or Andre the Giant--winging each other around, flinging themselves off the ropes to flatten his opponent on the mat. We loved the flying Samoans and their moves of jumping off the ropes to simulate hitting the other guy in the head with their knees. There were the tag team events, and the single events. Each guy bigger and badder than the other--each wearing skimpy bathing suit type bottoms along with leather high top shoes. They were not terribly built (especially by today's standards)--but they had "the moves"....which you can see from this video which included a whole lot of bouncing around on the ring floor (which must have had some kind of engineering to make it that bouncy). We would get up on the furniture and bounce--jumping off (sometimes a little to close to the coffee table) trying to nail either my sister or brother and bring them down like the Flying Samoans...or Tom would get me in one of the famous neck holds and wrestle us to the ground. We too could be wrestlers--right there in the living room...maybe without the audience but much like bowling, we could be there.

We loved it...with the loud, crude people shouting, the forceful brutish referees, the dapper announcers and commentators and the camera man panning the audience for all the odd people who were there, savoring the majesty of Studio Wrestling instead of being in their beige living room.

You tube bringing us a little snippet of the action. I love how bouncy these guys get.

Andre the Giant, doing his thing in the ring.

Andre the Giant, doing his thing in the ring.

Wikipedia takes us there:

"At one time, this show was considered one of the top wrestling shows in the United States. Even though the show started on Saturdays at 6 p.m., the lines started to form around the TV station at noon. The show was so popular that it revived the dying Pittsburgh wrestling market. No wrestling promotion can survive without a strong television presence because pro wrestling is not routinely covered by mainstream media."

 

Let's just put it there. It was art. It was inspiration. It was a pure sport. This was all pre-corporate tie in. There were no studio wrestling promotions at George Aikens (the foul chicken roasting store) or the bastion of pureness, Islays, home of the sublime chip chop ham, milkshakes, hot dogs and of course, the classic, the Klondike. There were no billboards, or even t.v. promos for this wonder. You either were into studio wrestling or you weren't-- You were either insiders or clueless. It was a sport of and for the people...though the crowd at church and the crowd at school were not aficionados. Candidly, this is the first time I have gone public with my love and admiration of the sport as it was too personal and too outside the box...but  YOLO ("you only live once"). And now you know. I hope you do not think any less of me. I would say, studio wrestling helped to form me, my loves and my inspiration.

Truly...I have always held up the posters for wrestling at that time (that I would see downtown on some of my solo safaris hopping around the Diamond Market on Market Square or down Liberty Avenue near the strip joints) some of the best graphic design (vernacular/ and primitive) out there. I have often aspired to their goodness though my corporate clients would have nothing of the sort. Look at the simple use of two color. The sheer excitement that Bruno presents with his active stance, his focus and determination, the key messaging components, easy to read and remember... After all... who would debate the clear statement that Bruno Sammartino was "Strongest Man in the World".  I sure wouldn't.

So, coming down from that sheer excitement was the final stop on our evening's tableaux vivant was the Piece of Resistance...a show that had a studio audience albeit it was not from Pittsburgh (though it was from the fabric of our city that the success of this show was sewn (I would think Buffalo, Detroit, Scranton PA, and others were also key)....it was the divine and truly artful, "Lawrence Welk Show". What wasn't to love? And, his music either stunned with amazement and frightened or off your feet to polka with the best of them. We Eddys did not nor do we polka at our weddings or parties let alone do the "Chicken Dance"-- though I secretly wanted to...so Uncle Lawrence brought that unmentionable into our living rooms--and what with the management being out of the house, we could pretend.

The adorable Lennon Sisters on Lawrence Welk. So sweet your eyeballs got cavities.

The adorable Lennon Sisters on Lawrence Welk. So sweet your eyeballs got cavities.

There was fun Lawrence whose smile scarily spread from ear to ear, with his hair combed back and held in place by too much pomade. He matched his suit to those in the band and to all the festive "kids" , members of his "Musical Family". We got to know them all...Bobby and Cissy, the Champagne Ladies, the insipid Lennon Sisters with their sugary sweet voices matched with insane (!!) hair and costumes, Arthur Duncan, the amazing tap dancer was often featured, but somehow his placement felt very odd and off-putting as he was the only (I mean only) person of color in the entire show.

And there was always Lawrence ready to transition the acts, announce the new performer or when necessary, step in and do the honors with his accordion in leading his musical family in songs, dances or both. One could never resist the holidays with the Welk Family (ouch) as it was such an amazingly pure, American, and wholesome good time that we at 130 Yorkshire knew nothing about. It was a dream we could not even imagine let alone live. No one was wearing plaid hostess skirts, nor were the boys/men in matching jackets. No one was gathered around the professionally decorated Christmas Tree, singing Irving Berlin in a meaningfully, sincere way.

Our mom did not dress up like these women and present us with toasty casseroles in colorful, painted opal glass dishes with every hair in place, and a smile on her face. Our dad did not beam like our adopted uncle, Uncle Lawrence Welk--leading us in either prayer or song to just keep the fun coming....or even emulate our other uncles, wicked Uncle Nick Perry who teased us to like bowling or the other, Uncle Bruno Sammartino, who had no problem taking on the brutes, but still being a gentleman after all of that.

It was Saturday night...and we could hang  with our Saturday family. We were thankful we didn't have to kiss strangers wearing our pajamas. We were thankful to be an audience to a world we didn't live in...preparing for the already formatted day of Sunday.  And of course, there was always next week to look forward to.