jim henson

This past weekend I was tooling around various Seattle neighborhoods with a cousin of mine.

It's been many years since I've visited Seattle, and so it'd been just as many years since visiting
Archie McPhee, the retail outlet for the Accoutrements line of novelties and the Archie McPhee catalog.

It had turned into a lovely and warm sunny Sunday afternoon as my cousin drove me around.

First we went to Seattle's Fremont District ('The center of the universe; set your watch back five minutes'), saw the Lenin statue, the Fremont Rocket, and looked at the constant stream of people going to look at the
Fremont Troll residing under the Aurora Bridge and Highway 99.

I was surprised - - but not shocked - - to see how the neighborhood had grown since I was there in the '90's.

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From Fremont we headed over to Ballard (and the inevitable burgeoning 'FreeBall' district) and Archie McPhee's - - home of assorted plastic animals, the Edgar Allan Poe action figure, bacon-scented air freshener and flavorless 'Nihilist' chewing gum.

I knew that I was a little concerned about what I'd see this time around.

Back in the day, the stuff from Archie McPhee's was ever-so-slightly 'outside', their catalog and store even more so, and so a trip to that original store was a unique experience - - not just for the shopping, but simply to witness all those oddities under one roof.

Since then, all across the U.S. it seems like inside any gift shop or card store or kooky boutique you can't swing a rubber chicken without hitting a few of their products.

Upon entering the store, my worries dissipated.

Yes, absolutely, you'll see an abundance of all the boxing nuns, pig launchers and devil duckies that you can see anywhere - - but it's their festive and random presentation of those items alongside all sorts of other oddball 'surplus' goods that make for a fascinating retail experience. (In their neighboring annex, too. So many decorating ideas!)

Glass urinals. Motorcycle chains. Mailbox slots. Metal casters. Plastic letters. Different sizes of traffic light lenses. British Royal Mail jackets. Ball bearings.

Seeing that stuff right alongside bins of super balls, plastic moose, pez dispensers and other novelties did my heart good.

Yes, it may be hard to imagine some of the situations where a person might need some of these things, but you can say that about many retail establishments, and that may not necessarily be the point of visiting the Archie McPhee store.

Next time you're in Seattle, Washington and in need of a 'retail-outlet-as-museum' experience, I urge you to visit and see for yourself.

Located in Emeryville, California, for over 20 years, Kimono My House is a very special store specializing in Anime & Sci-Fi Toys.

Though I am someone intrigued by the vast world of Japanese animation and fantasy culture, I remain largely ignorant of many of the details of that world.

- - And so for me, a trip to Kimono My House is like going to an odd museum full of fascinating and cryptic curiosities.

It had been a good long while since I last visited.
Mid-'90's, maybe?

The intrigue begins as you climb a couple of flights of stairs until you emerge outside onto the roof of the nondescript warehouse building where you'll find the store perched.



The sensory overload begins as you enter the door.

Speaking personally, my lack of knowledge regarding most of the items within only serves to enhance the experience.

If I understood all of what I was seeing would it hold the same wonder?



































































































































An Ultraman soap dish and Ultraman bathroom air freshener, a glimpse of McDonald's employee dolls and the mysterious 'Boyfriend Tom', a truly spooky and incongruous
George Burns, a shelf load of Gameras, and SO much more.

What does it all mean?






















































































































































































































































































































































































































































And finally, after much searching and wonderment, a few small choice bits of swag that needed to come home with me.

Essential items, all. ▼

Even as a kid, I had an eye for beauty and sophistication.

When I began to notice the decorative Lava lamps appearing in shop window displays and such back in the latter half of the 1960's, I remember hoping that one day I'd be cool enough to own one.

That my parents didn't recognize the allure led me to believe I was on the right track, but I agreed with them that I wasn't yet ready for a Lava lamp.

I'd wait till I was a grown-up.
I could put it in the swingin' bachelor pad I'd surely have - -
- - near the beaded curtain, the Zenith *color* TV with the big
'Space Command' remote control, and the shelf where I'd keep my 'Hai Karate' aftershave.

In the next few years, my resolve was only strengthened when I'd be 'over to play' at some friend's house, and see that they were lucky enough to have a Lava lamp in their own home.

"Cool!!" I'd say, "Turn it on, let's check it out!"

"Naah..." was invariably the response. "It's boring. And besides, it takes, like, forever for the gunk inside to heat up and start doing stuff."

Occasionally their reason would be that it didn't work right anymore, from that one time when it got left on for a week. "See? It's all messed up and cloudy..."

'That settles it', I'd say to myself. 'These fools are taking their Lava lamps for granted. They don't get it, and they can't even take proper care of it.'

'I'll have one some day, and treasure it and care for it like the exquisite showpiece it is.'

I never quite forgot about it, but as the '70's wore on, there were certainly other distractions.

By the end of the decade, Lava lamps were 'out'. They were relics.
That didn't bother me, but as I began to think that maybe I was finally ready, I noticed that it seemed you couldn't find them anywhere.
Such is life, or so I thought...

Cut to the early '80's. I'm fresh out of high school, working, I'm making my own money.

For some reason I find myself one day in a tiny, cramped neighborhood hardware store in the Richmond district of San Francisco.
Honestly, I can't remember what brought me in or what I was looking for.

What I did find on a dusty shelf was an old Lava lamp, still in the carton, looking just like I remembered as a kid.

My time had finally arrived.

According to Oozing Goo, The Lava Lamps Syndicate website, what I'd found was an original Century model 102 (Red lava, yellowish liquid, gold base). Nothing exotic, but rather the classic standard, in production beginning in 1963.

As it turned out, my Lava lamp purchase seemed to occur about five minutes before they began to make a comeback as a kitschy 'retro' item. ('Remember those '70's?')
The comeback also meant that lots of new designs and colors and 'knockoffs' were appearing, which made me all the happier that I wound up with the exact style I'd remembered so fondly.

My Lava lamp has been proudly on display ever since.
(No Zenith, no 'Hai Karate', no beaded curtain - - yet.)

It operates every day, on a timer, thank you very much, for about six hours or so (no overheating), and is still going strong, 20+ years later.

Comes on around the dinner hour, is in full swing by mid-evening, clicks off when it's about time for bed. Perfect.
It makes me feel cool, even if I'm still not quite yet a grown-up.

Came across its carton the other day. (Of course I still have it. Why wouldn't I? What better to store it in if I should move?)

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The graphic design on the box is pretty special.

I love the exotic 'Arabic' font.

- - And yes, the motion inside the lamp does indeed soothe, intrigue, fascinate and entertain.

Of course, the best has to be the practical images showing common uses for the lamp...

(see detail below)

- Executives know that it adds a bit of style to the decor of a busy office.
Very 'feng shui'.

- The perfect device to pacify a client in the dentist's chair. Bring on the root canal!

- The lonely days seem to fly by now that Grandma has her lamp to keep her company.

- And what better to put young lovers in the mood than basking in the wet glow of the undulating goo?

But seriously - - Regarding these original Lava lamps, this is an instance where time, fashion and circumstance never swayed my opinion. It was cool when I first spotted one close to forty years ago, and it's cool now.

Fashions come and go - - and then come back again, but elegance and beauty never go out of style.