Post 609 - Random Thoughts for a Friday

 

Photo by Anne Middleton

The sunlit moon beckoned - to the purple door. The dogbit cat beckoned - to the purple door. The fence was the sole defense - to the purple door. 

The skies grew dark, the purple remained. The breeze grew stark, the purple remained. The sound was 'round while the purple remained, but slowly opened. 

The purple yielded only to the blackness until the gasp of the room exhaled into the night air. Smells of old potato chips and fortune cookies called to the weary, the curious, the hungry. A soft aroma - perfume? Aqua Velva? Aunt Bea? - surrounds all, comforts all, lures all to the darkness. 

No need for flashlights, candles, unnatural illumination - just follow ahead to the green eyes at the end of the long, dark hall. Was that a lick to the back of the neck? A nip at the pant leg? A silent, massaging grasp to the arm? The purple door tells no tales, it just closes behind the latest visitor. Oh the purple door....the purple door...

 

Photo also by Anne Middleton

 

 

 

  

"My spine is a slinky. My paws are venom-tipped weapons of doom. I have lived nine times my nine lives and shall live another ninety-nine. You create a shelf, I shall claim it mine. You shall illuminate me from above as the god I am. I am Bastet. I am He Who Must Me Fed and Feed Me Only Shreds or Your Sheets Shall Be As Shreds. I am - oh, is that some yarn? Be right back..."

A "Gertie the Dinosaur" Mystery from 1914

The early masterpiece by Winsor McCay, "Gertie the Dinosaur" (1914), was a quarter century ahead of its time for character animation.  Recently, an auction catalog of animation cels and artifacts produced a pair of original rice-paper drawings from the film.  One of them caught my eye, since it was an unfamiliar pose, not seen in the prints known to circulate:

It would have been at the end of the film, past the point when she drank the lake dry.  Could the original stage release of "Gertie" have included a final curtain call for the frisky dinosaur?  An animation mystery!

The closing minute of the film is attached below for comparison - it'll be a bit compressed for this webpage, but the entire version is on line in several formats from several sources.

The auction catalog will probably not have a permanent web presence, but here's a link to it, as of April 2018:

                        https://profilesinhistory.com/auctions/animation-disneyana-auction-99/


POSTSCRIPT: The auction house doesn't mention how much the two Gertie drawings realized.  They were listed with $4500-$6000 range.  Either the amount was considered "anonymous" or was not to the minimum expected, so --- they may still be out there looking for a new home.  Will keep the eyebones peeled!  Who needs to retire, right?

Into the Liver of Darkness - A note from 1988

A 23,000 foot doodle.  1988

    Jim woke at 23,000 feet to the conversation of the two businessmen sweating out the storm to his left, interrupting his recurring dream of three Mariachi singers with gold teeth and bad breath.
     "...connect with our man in Houston and...just a minute, I think he's awake."

     The two men reached for the nearest reading matter, one of them grabbing the complimentary travel magazine advertising bikini depilatories on the back, the other taking a keen interest in the instructions on the airsickness bag.  The plane made a sudden dip.  The instructions proved useful.

    "Due to some unexpected turbulence, the captain has turned on the 'fasten seat belt' sign.  We will be coming by shortly with beverages that you may spill on yourself."  The attendant was speaking from the first class section.  Only her sneakers were visible beneath the drapery.
     "Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain," Jim mumbled to himself.
     The businessman reading the magazine peered over the top.  His partner momentarily paused in his search for a toothbrush.
     "What did you say?"
     "Excuse me?" said Jim.
     "Just now. What did you say?"
     "You mean, `pay no attention to the man behind the curtain?'"
     The businessmen looked at each other nervously and turned back to Jim.
     "I have no heart," said one.
     "I have no brain," said the other.
     "I see," said Jim.

     They both leaned closer.  Jim wished the one had found that toothbrush.
     "I said, I have no heart," the first one insisted.
     "And I have no brain." the second one repeated.
     "I guess that means," Jim began as the two leaned still closer.  "I guess that means I have no courage?"

     "Comrade!"
     "Brother!"
     "You guys aren't Shriners, are you?" asked Jim.
     The nearest one nudged Jim in the ribs and whispered conspiratorially, "I don't think we're in Kansas, anymore, you know."
     "I think you've got me confused with your man in Houston."
     He sat up.  "You're not our man in Houston?"
     "I'm not even your man over Houston."

     The two began a heated debate in a dialect that ran from Slavic to Pig Latin.  The one in need of a toothbrush lit a cigarette.  The attendant appeared.
     "Excuse me, sir, FAA regulations prohibit smoking on this flight."
     "Away with you, Capitalist love doll."
     The attendant called out to Mannie, an organically grown Neanderthal who lumbered down the aisle, ate the lit cigarette and the remaining pack, and sat on the offender.
     "Mannie will keep you company until we land.  Have a nice day."

     At the gate in Houston, two hundred heavily armed FAA agents were waiting to escort the two men to a federally funded smoking rehabilitation center.  That they were carrying documents implicating US involvement in an international Tofu ring seemed unimportant to them.
     Jim awaited the next leg of his journey to Mexico at gate 32.





(May 1988; tale left unfinished)