Retro

While visiting my local comic shop last night I happened to stumble across this neat little card game from back in 1965 based on the popular Man from U.N.C.L.E. TV series. While the TV series starred both Robert Vaughn as … Continue reading →

It might just be another Louis L'Amour cover, but this time I'm curious about the fellow on the left. Is that Dwight Yoakam? Is it just me? This cover came out in 1980. Dwight was not yet nationally famous, though he might have already been knocking around the Los Angeles scene. So where did the illustrator get the photo? Or is this all by chance? Not something really worth pondering, but there's no information about the illustrator so the story ends...here.

There's only one retailer selling the 1970s Converse Auckland Racer trainers. That's because they are a Size? exclusive. The shoes are inspired by Arthur Lydiard, who developed a system of middle distance running in his hometown of Auckland, New Zealand, latterly known as jogging. In the 1970s, to commemorate Lydiard as well as his home town and the worldwide jogging trend, Converse created the Auckland Racer - a jogging shoe for the era.It's now back as a worldwide exclusive at Size?, with two vintage running inspired colourways, both a mix of premium nappy suede and breathable mesh,  with a vintage coloured midsole and stitched Star Chevron branding.Both versions will be available from all Size? stores and online from Friday 24th May, priced at £60.Size? website

A script to a never-performed play and never-seen family photos of Jack Kirby will be included in a book the King of Comics' grandson, Jeremy, is assembling with some funding help via Kickstarter.Here's Jeremy's video describing the project. You can donate here.

Just Write is a writing exercise I thought I’d like to try, having seen it on another blog. It’s writing down some everyday moments without over-thinking it. It’s just a sort of freely-written exercise done in the moment, descriptive of the experience, no matter how mundane. – I wake up for the second time when the wife barges through the bedroom door with the dog scooped in her arms. “Something is wrong with dog,” she announces. The first time I woke up was when her alarm went off an hour earlier. The best of part of sleep is when you wake up to learn you can still go back. But this time I was awake for good. “Is she sick?” I ask. “No, she’s depressed. I think she needs an anti-depressant,” the wife says. There’s nothing wrong with dog as she pants happily in the wife’s arms. This happens regularly in our house. The wife is a therapist and maybe it’s like dreaming, where the brain processes the day’s events—the wife processes her work day by projecting diagnoses onto the dog. She plops the dog down next to me in the bed, a scruff of brown fur and snout and wet eyes, and then leaves to take a shower. I roll the dog over on her back and she’s eager to play, snorting and wiggling. “You’re not depressed, are you?” I say. Then I see it, the size of a sesame seed. As I become fully aware of it, it becomes aware that it needs a better place to hide, crawling along the dog’s belly. Ugh. A tick. These things are straight out the third or fourth circle of hell. Well, I’m out of bed for morning. Processing. There’s that word again. I quickly process abject horror, shuddering disgust, and a memory of the time we went camping and a tick landed on my sister, my dad picked it off and killed it with a lighter. He did it so casually, a Salem Light between his lips. I scoop the dog up and make a beeline to the bathroom to get the wife out of the shower. The dog loves this game, whatever this new game is, which involves me banging and shouting at the bathroom door like a gorilla. She playfully bites at my hands and makes pig noises. The tick clings on, just waiting for a more peaceful moment to gorge itself on the host’s blood before beginning its reproduction cycle and dying. The wife holds the dog down and I get the tweezers. I can not do it casually. My hands are just slightly shaking. I’m fine with spiders and those bastard spricket things, but I have this thing about disease-carrying parasites. But even with a shaky hand, I expertly nab the tick on the first try. Videogame-playing reflexes. I’ve never used advanced calculus once in the real world, I use the small-muscle mastery of landing Mario on that impossibly tiny ledge all the time. I flush it down the toilet and flush twice, just in case he got a little hope after surviving the first deluge of water. The dog leaps up, a little leery with this game, the one where she gets held down and prodded with metal on the wet bath mat. Not as fun you guys. Later the wife says “you’re good at dealing with crisis,” even though she regularly counsels people through crises and picking a tick off the dog probably isn’t one of them. “The bed sheets,” the wife says grimly. That’s how she processes crisis. Completely stripping the bed is her solution to everything. Just in case we didn’t notice the dog was actually infested with other ticks that were now creating a blood sucking colony in our bed. Also, the dog is now forever banned from our bed, but that executive order will be ignored by the end of the day. We change the bed sheets and struggle putting the fitted sheet on, which is always too short on one corner, when you can even find that corner at all. Ugh. Fitted sheets are another circle of hell, at least the sixth or seventh. Filed under: Things I Write

I'm quite fond of the US pick-up trucks of the mid-20th century, which seem to be growing in popularity right now, especially the heavily-renovated models. You can be forgiven for thinking that this 1950s Standard Vanguard pick-up truck is one of them - but this is actually a UK build. This Standard Vanguard Phase 2 from 1953 has the look and it also has the added exclusivity of being a rare UK model, as well as being a model that was featured in Classic Van and Pick Up Magazine in 2012. So well worth a look. It's also described as being one of only a handful on the road in the world.It was restored 10 years ago, and is said to be excellent condition, with a TR3 four speed floor change gear box with overdrive fitted, as well as a tow bar. Some blemishes in the paintwork (pictured in the listing), but nothing that looks too nasty.£3,100 is the current price on eBay.Find out more at the eBay website

We love the charming retro style of Paul Thurlby, so we're pleased to see his new collection of prints for the Southbank Centre.  Thurlby's work is always a delight, whether made for the French Tourist Board or offering a new take on the alphabet. This collection of four prints is no exception, with each design inspired by the architecture of the Southbank and the artistic entertainment available so close to hand. The S print pictured, for example, mixes music with the distinctive facade of the Royal Festival Hall and offers a unique take on this much-loved building.  Each print is A3 sized and a limited edition of 60. They cost £100 each.  See the range online

Suzy Chaffee, better known by her nickname "Suzy Chapstick", was an Olympic athlete, political activist, and supposed midnight lover to Ted Kennedy. Her athletic accomplishments are actually pretty impressive..... her fitness book, not so much. But then, it's interesting enough to warrant a blog post unto itself, so maybe it's impressive in its own way. But before we start, a word about her co-author, Bill Adler. He was a writer for Candid Camera and wrote the classics: Kids' Letters to President Carter and Letters to the Air Force on UFOs. So, now that we know who we're dealing with, let's begin The I [love] NY Fitness Book (1983). I'm actually not quite sure why it's even called "I [Love] NY"; the exercises within have precious little to do with New York City. There was an "I [Love} NY" diet, but that still doesn't explain things. I'll bet if she'd called it The Suzy Chapstick Fitness Book it would've sold better. I'm just sayin'. Perhaps the best thing about the book are the pearls of wisdom from Suzy Chapstick scattered throughout. Each nugget of insight is entitled "Suzy says" - oh, the joy of reading each one. In this message, Suzy let's us know she has the heart and lungs of a 15 year old. Well, isn't that special. Suzy Chapstick says that exercise will give you "that fashionable braless look". Well, Ann Landers would take issue with the look being termed fashionable. Check out her column from July 1979: This may be my new favorite quotes: "...braless dames who go flopping and bouncing around look cheap." You tell it, Ann. Protect your body from harsh elements and jump to its commands. Profound. Lao-tzu has nothing on Suzy Chapstick. Someone needs to put the sayings of Suzy Chapstick into a single volume of collected wisdom. I'd put it up there with Pascal's Pensées, but not quite on par with The Book of Proverbs or the Analects of Confucius. "Remember, the base of your pyramid is a sound body." - Suzy Chapstick (1983 A.D.) On the other hand, think of all the wonderful things you could be doing instead of exercising. If you stop exercising, think how much more free time you'll have to "do so many wonderful things" and "get more out of life!" Well, that's enough words-to-live-by for one day. Let's move on to another aspect of this book that makes it so special - the workout routines. The I [love] NY Fitness Book is bursting at the seams with a wide array of workout numbers with very interesting names and movements. For instance, the one above is fairly standard - "jog in place" is about as standard as it gets..... but then there's this - Can we all just unanimously agree that "Gorgeous Crab Walk" is a horrible workout name? The actual workout itself looks pretty awful as well. And let's remember that this is the "I LOVE NY" workout. How gorgeous crabs fit into that I don't know.... although this was 1970's NY , so maybe crabs is appropriate. In keeping with the animal routine, Suzy Chapstick introduces us to a little number she calls a "Rover". It's not enough to pretend to be a dog for your workout (!), she actually has you hike your leg! Step 6: Now bark three times and lick your genitals. I hope "Super-Mom" doesn't get carried away and actually begin marking her territory. Those kind of stains are hard to get up. I understand it gets its name from the hamstring; but, c'mon! This has to be the worst name for a workout ever. She might as well have one called "The Delicious Cheeseburger". Oh, Good Lord. This is just getting silly. You'll need props for this one, folks. This is turning into a Saturday Night Live skit. Not a very aerobic activity. In fact, not really even an activity. Okay, is she serious? Lean against a wall and now do "Jazz Shoulders" in your office chair? I'm getting the distinct impression that S

Seletti instills a touch of class to normally slightly tacky neon signs with their range of Neon Light Art. The difference between these lights and the ones you would find on bars, clubs and more seedy establishments, is in the typography used. Seletti has opted for a simple old-fashioned typewriter style of lettering here which gives the neon lights a minimalist and altogether more sophisticated look. Various words and slogans are available, including music, disco, exit, born this way, revolution is the only way and the most inconguous, let's make pasta. Prices vary depending on the number of letters involved, but the signs are currently on offer at Fab, where, for example, the disco light is reduced from £218 to £173. Visit Fab for further details.  

Its been three years in development, but judging by the specifications and the photographs, it has been worth the wait for the Ruark Audio R7 Radiogram. Popular in the post-war period, radiograms combined radio and gramophone in one sideboard-like piece of furniture. By the 1970s, the radiogram had fallen out of fashion, in favour of more compact equipment, but the R7 harks back to the stylish models of the 1960s. The R7 unit has DAB, DAB+, FM and internet radio capability alongside a CD player. I'm slightly disappointed that it doesn't include a turntable, for those of us who still love vinyl, but it does have plenty of auxillary inputs so you can plug one in. The spindle legs shown in this picture are detachable, so you can put the unit on your own sideboard if you prefer. The R7 will be available in the autumn, with a suggested retail price of £2,000. To make sure you don't miss out on the first production run, you can register your interest now via the Ruark Audio website.