Dire Responsibility of Skeleton Keys

Pitch the key fob (even the word “fob” sounds dorky), car dealer doo-dad, or Italian-leather key wallet. Dumpster-donate the maintenance-man, 18-inch-long key chain secured to your belt loop. All you need is a simple skeleton key on a simple key ring, along with your half-dozen essential keys. A skeleton key adds a sense of mystery, a touch of luck, and a grounded link to the past. You need it because it’s cool and because most people don’t have one. Now, when someone asks about it, you have the unbreakable, sacred obligation to respond correctly. Being flip and saying something like “Oh, it’s just a stupid old key I found at a yard sale” is not correct. In fact, it’s dead wrong—even if you did find it at a yard sale or on eBay or at a thrift shop. You must honor the skeleton key. Its first and primary use was to open something that had restricted access—a door, a cabinet, a chest. With that appreciation, you are better off creating a sense of secrecy, importance, and mystery befitting the key. It is far better to respond to the “what’s with that key” question with a bit more drama. You may want to act nervous with a couple of furtive glances to see who else may have heard the question. Stumble out your response (if you’re a stutterer, you’re lucky) which should be something like: “Oh…um…. you’re asking about THE key? It… it’s really NOTHING.” Note: It’s important to pronounce THE and NOTHING with enough emphasis to imply a universe of possibility. When the follow up questions come, and they will, you need to act little more nervous but regain composure quickly and say “It’s just a key I have, no big deal.” Then, abruptly excuse yourself to leave, use the washroom, or return an important phone call.

It’s also important for you to know the correct anatomy of a skeleton key (or passkey), because this adds depth to your mysterious ownership of the key. Skeleton keys consist of a bow (the part you turn), a handle, and a combination (the part inserted in the lock). Use the correct terms, always.

The Americans

Somethings just go together. Peanutbutter and jelly. Knotty pine paneling in a fishing-lake bar. Bouffants on R&B singers. And Jack Kerouac’s introduction to 83 stark b/w photos (“lugubrious” Jack might say) shot by Robert Frank in 1955 / 1956 as he traveled the lower 48, bankrolled by a Guggenheim Foundation grant. The book: The Americans is a terrific arty, documentary commentary on mid-20th-century America.

I would have said the book is worth having for the Kerouac introduction alone—because it is so good….so….so Kerouac—until I reverently turned the pages, which is what one should do when viewing a collection of photos, drawings, or art and was delighted to remain in the desperate, yearnful, plain-is-the-new-god mood that Kerouac had expertly created in his introduction. Frank’s photos capture the everyday in all of its beauty. Many of the photos look like rejects from the envelope of prints eagerly picked up from the 1950’s or 1960’s photo lab where you have spinster Aunt Millie asking why did you waste film on this—they’re not even looking at the camera, or it’s a bunch of people at a funeral, or it’s a road at night.

Publishers Weekly nailed it: “Frank's images, taken all across the country, leave the viewer with a solemn impression of American life. From funerals to drug store cafeterias to parks, Frank recorded every shade of everyday life he encountered: the lower and upper classes, the living and dead, the hopeful and destitute, all the while experimenting with angle, focus and grain to increase impact.”

Eyjafjallajokull

Dramatic photos shot by various observers of last week's eruption of Iceland's Eyjafjallajokull volcano have been collected. To see the online "gallery" click HERE.

Poetic Film Shorts

Cool stuff occurs all the time right under our noses. Unbeknownst to me, a series of 34 very cool animated films showcasing contemporary poems were created by University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee students. The unnamed, unrecognized students (tut-tut to the sponsors) worked with docUWM, a documentary media center at the university, and the university’s creative writing program, in association with the Poetry Foundation, located in Chicago. The mission was to focus a new generation of filmmakers on poetry as subject matter. The student-produced films were supervised by Liam Callanan, a creative writing professor and Brad Lichtenstein, a film instructor, both at the UW-Milwaukee. These wonderful short flicks are available on the PBS website and are a part of a grander Poetry Everywhere project that includes prominent poets reading their work with learned introductions from Garrison Keillor.

House of the Future: Lustron All-Steel Prefabs

One of many brilliant options available to the post WW-II homebuyer was the all-steel Lustron ranch home. It was entrepreneur Carl Strandlund's brainchild, as an answer to the severe post-war housing shortage. The signature appearance of the Lustron Company home is the two-foot square prefabricated porcelain-enameled steel panels that sided the exterior. Strandlund’s idea was to quickly, efficiently, and economically mass produce homes, like automobiles. The exterior color options were pink, tan, yellow, aqua, blue, green and gray. Interiors were beige or gray. Lustrons were said to cost $6,000 - $10,000 (not including building lot) and were manufactured in the Columbus, Ohio factory in about 400 man-hours. Assembly at the site was advertised to take less than 300 man-hours. The prefabricated, ready-to-assemble houses were shipped in 3,000 pieces. The design uses all interior space efficiently and wisely. Built-ins accounted for 20 percent of the total interior space. The master bedroom had a built-in vanity, with large drawers and additional storage space overhead. Bedrooms had sliding pocket doors to eliminate space needed for door swing. The dining room had a built-in buffet and pass through to the kitchen. Period advertisements proclaimed that the homes were safe from fire, decay, rust, termites, vermin, and rats. Rosemary Thornton
 has a terrific series of five articles about the trusty Lustron homes on The Old House Web. About 2,800 of these porcelain-steel houses were produced between 1949 and 1950—with most found sprinkled throughout the Midwest.

Doorway to Amsterdam

The absolute best way to imagine Amsterdam is through Mike Starling’s fine art photos….historic architecture, cafes, canals, bicycles, intelligent graffiti, inviting storefronts, and people in a relaxed state of mind. Live Without Dead Time is an exquisite collection of perfectly captured colorful scenes—some are glimpses of another life, some are spontaneous, some reflect a documentarian—all are artistically framed to capture the best of Amsterdam. This book is for the imagination, since the images explode with possibilities and spawn creative thought. As a doorway to a city, Live Without Dead Time is well worth the cover charge.

Just Plain Wrong

In general, I oppose the death penalty. It seems barbaric. Except when it comes to those who exploit the vulnerable. Because they are mean, amoral, exploitive, self-gratifying scum, these perpetrators deserve the worst, most painful punishments. I’ll let your imagination fill in the blanks. I know what I would recommend. One such cuss is reported in today’s Chicago Tribune. A thief stole Juan Hernandez’s guitar after finishing his day strumming and singing for commuters some 40 feet below Dearborn Street at the Dearborn/Washington CTA blue line station. Hernandez is blind.