“Clifton’s Cafeteria is authentic Los Angeles. It is at the corner of Seventh and Broadway. Clifton’s has been here since 1935 and it’s still going strong today… It is not only the grandest cafeteria, it is the largest restaurant in all of Los Angeles. Six hundred people can be seated at once. No other restaurant even comes close.”

Hear Charles talk about this incredibly rare Los Angeles institution here on NPR.

I love to eat out. Always have and always will. Growing up, my family regularly went out to dinner on Friday and Saturday nights and out to breakfast on Sunday morning. And if you count going to McDonalds for lunch – going out -we did that too – a lot!

These days whenever possible I avoid chain restaurants and fast food stands and instead go for the vintage homespun-and-family-run dining experiences wherever I go. Perhaps you’re familiar with my two faves -Vince’s Spaghetti – “The World’s Largest Spaghetti House” – serving in my hometown of Ontario, California since 1945. And, of course there’s the granddaddy of all cafeterias, Clifton’s – “Dine Free Unless Delighted” – downtown Los Angeles at 7th and Broadway since 1935. In fact, I was at Clifton’s just yesterday. On the way out, to further enhance and prolong that special Clifton’s spell, I bought a three layer Chocolate banana crème cake, yes a whole cake, and took it to go. They have a bakery there too!

I do, however, occasionally slip and secretly enjoy an early morning egg mc muffin on the way to a funky flea market or smart yard sale in hopes of finding slides to share with you such as this amazing shot of the Brown Derby.

This is indeed the giant stucco hat that became the most famous restaurant in the world. Built in 1926, it was the first of the four Brown Derby restaurants and the only one shaped like its namesake hat. The location was perfect- smack dab in the middle of the most fashionable neighborhood in Los Angeles -right across the street from the legendary Ambassador Hotel and ever-so-elegant Coconut Grove nightclub. Lucy led Fred and Ethel to the Brown Derby when they “came to Hollywood.”

By the mid-60s the glamour had faded and the novelty of eating a Cobb Salad inside a hat had all but worn off. The Brown Derby was just kind of sitting there baking in the sun – not much more than a relic form the early days of Hollywood.

Finally in the late 70s a developer came along, staked his claim and said he was going to demo the Derby to build a two story mini-mall. Preservations went mad. After going back and forth the developer agreed to preserve stucco derby by putting it on the roof of his little mini-mall. And that’s what he did.

Today the original Brown Derby could be called the Burnt Orange Derby because it is – but its not. I don’t know what it’s called. But I do know it’s a cigarette smoke-filled Korean restaurant pro-decorated in a bamboo-ish theme. I am so not above feasting on bul go ki and kim chi while breathing in second hand smoke swirling around the inside of a big, giant, famous hat! Are you? Um, pass the kim chi please!

Here’s to the Brown Derby, the Burnt Orange Derby and YOU!

A flaming redhead poses in a sensible shirtwaist dress and royal silk satin curly-topped, bell hop hat. Her body language speaks of possession. That ‘58 Chrysler must be hers. The window is down, the vent-wing open and the door is ajar. Behind her the font on the OPEN sign is inspired and worthy today of being developed into a full alphabet. I wonder if she knows the shocking story of what happened at the Jungle just a couple of years before.

Several years ago at a yard sale I picked up an early ’50s map of Anaheim. Carefully unfolding it the tiki graphics in an ad for a place called the Jungle caught my eye. I had never heard of the place. The ad read: THE JUNGLE- Tropical Zoo, Exotic Gift Shop, Head Hunters Beauty Salon and “Home of Jerry, the World’s Most Human Chimpanzee”. Jack Dutton was listed as the owner.

Intrigued and at the time researching for my book, SOUTHERN CALIFONRIA IN THE 50s, immediately I called 411 and asked for Anaheim, California – Jack Dutton. Much to my surprise, fifty years later, there was a listing. I called. I said “Is this the Jack Dutton that owned the Jungle? “Yes it is.” I was even more surprised when he said that he was 90-somthing years old and the manager of a trailer park in Anaheim. To hear the story of the Jungle he invited me to come see him. The next morning at 11am I was standing at the doorstep of his double wide. He was welcoming, feisty and sincere as he told me the story of the Jungle. He got a tear in his eye and said it never fails when he thinks of the Jungle he thinks of Jerry, his beloved-but-ill-fated pet monkey.

He was a ragman. He tells me he made a fortune selling rags after the war. Around 1952 he and his wife Dorothy “adopted” a wild chimpanzee to add to their ever-expanding menagerie of birds and other unusual pets kept at their rural ranch home in nearby Fullerton. They named their “baby boy” chimp Jerry and raised him like they would a child. Within a few months Jerry was toilet trained, ate at the dinner table, dressed himself and even slept in the same bed with the Dutton’s. As Jerry became known around the neighborhood for entertaining at children’s birthday parties other nagging neighbors began to complain about the “wild pet monkey.”

In response Dutton bought a five-acre orange grove in nearby Anaheim. He leveled it built a small zoo. He planted a lush, tropical garden to showcase Jerry and all of his other pets where the public could enjoy them. Jerry shared his new home in the spotlight with snakes, alligators, elephants, bears, ostriches, deer, apes, a lion and hundreds of exotic birds. Crowds enjoyed Jerry’s adorable antics as he played with Sunny the bear or swam with the ducks in the pond. “Jerry amused the guests in the daytime and help me water the plants and feed the other animals a night,” Dutton remembered. He added a restaurant called the Palms, a luau garden, exotic gift shop and a beauty shop called the Head Hunters.

Just a couple of years later in, 1955 when Disneyland opened, things were beginning to get out of hand at the Jungle. Late-night pranksters taunted the animals and evil thieves stole the flamingos. A series of lawsuits forced Dutton to sell his “dangerous” animals. He told me his wife ran off with their lawyer. Even Jerry wasn’t safe. Having grown accustomed to his human-like freedom in the Jungle, the “humanized” chimp needed constant supervision. He went berserk every time he was put in his cage. When he could no longer find “baby-sitters” to care for Jerry around the clock Dutton reluctantly offered his beloved pet chimp to zoos. He said nobody would take him. When Jerry became more and more impossible, Dutton with a tear in his eye told me of the dark day he walked Jerry over to a nearby orange grove and gave him a shovel. “I had him dig a deep hole,” Dutton said, “when he was finished, I told him to jump inside. Then a policeman friend of mine shot him in the head.”

Jack Dutton, among other things, went on to become the mayor of Anaheim. Not long after I talked with him he passed away. He told me “Never humanize a chimp.”

Even in the stillness and silence of this pre-teen portrait a quartet of Ohio boys express a variety of emotions and moods.

The colorless wall behind them is a stark contrast to their smart sport shirts, fun hats and unusual variety of props – toy walkie-talkies that look like phone receivers with tiny little red-tipped antennas, maracas that have just inspired the color scheme of my going-out-to-dinner ensemble tonight and a bigger-than-average red sucker.

How did their lips get so red? I don’t think it was by sharing licks off that lollipop! Someone’s been in mom’s makeup case. Their cheeks are powdery pink too.

It’s highly doubtful that these young men styled this photo shoot themselves. This must’ve been master-minded by one of their mothers, or even more bizarre, one of their fathers.

I don’t remember putting on lipstick or rouge as kid (or as an adult either, thank you!) but I do recall the day I painted my nails. I was about five or six. It was the middle of the day.
As Dionne Warwick was spinning the stereo console in the living room and my mother was in the backyard hanging laundry out to dry I quickly applied peach frost to my fingertips. The fumes made me intoxicated. I don’t recall my mother holding her breath while she painted her nails. Did yours?

Ordinarily, beer can-curled coifs, clanking cocktails and cackling conversation around a stainless steel fondue pot, sitting on a rich, blue felt-covered board atop a pool table, would be enough to inspire my imagination and make my spirit soar. But this slide offers much more!

Psychedelic beaded curtains (WOW they photograph well!) and lava lamps are rarely captured on film. And here they are side by side! I weep!

I have no idea where those breathtaking beaded curtains come from or who the genius was that first strung them, but I do know that Lava Lamps were originally called Astro Lites. They were invented in England by a man notorious for making eye-popping nudie films. According to the legend he claimed “if you have and Astro Lite you won’t need drugs” and “if you don’t like Astro Lites then you’re afraid of sex.”

In 1965, after fifteen years of perfecting the “recipe” two Americans spotted his hypnotizing creations for sale at a trade show in Germany. They bought the rights to manufacture and market them in the USA and changed the name to Lava Lamps.

Being mesmerized by Lava Lamps is among my earliest childhood memories. There was an old hardware/gift store in downtown Ontario, California that displayed them prominently. Every time we went shopping there I would just stand there and stare at them. I begged my mother to buy one. But even as a four year old I knew it was never going to happen. Guess she just didn’t think one would fit in with our early American living room décor.

All these years later Lava Lamps are still being made. I have one on all the time. It never wears out! If you don’t have one you need one! Trust me it will improve the quality of your life. And don’t forget to turn it on every night -not just every time you have a smart fondue party!

Here’s to fondue parties, beaded curtains, Lava Lamps and YOU!

Half open Venetian blinds reveal a dusk or dawn sky. Are Venetian blinds really from Venice? Funny, I never thought to ask myself that question before. The answer is yes! Thank you Italy!

But this slide isn’t about Venetian blinds. Oh no! It’s not even about the warm and inviting honey blond wood paneling, dainty doilies, yellow daisies on black, hand held hankies, mod curtains or the gold anodized aluminum bullet lamp pointing to the curved ceiling above. Not even about the overwhelming fact that this is the interior of a trailer. No. This slide is about makin’ out with grandma!

I loved my grandmas. One was town and the other was country. There names were Geraldine and Kindzetta. Yes, I loved them but I don’t recall kissin’ them like this!

By the way, don’t you just love grandma names?

Here’s to trailer interiors, kissin’ grandmas and you!

Last week I WENT TO THE ENCHANTED FOREST WITH PEE-WEE HERMAN!

Paul-Pee-Wee Herman-Reubens and I were among a small group invited by a mutual friend to visit her family’s historic camp deep in the Adirondack Mountains. As fate would have it we were five miles from the Enchanted Forest, a children’s storybook theme park now celebrating its 50th year. There was no way I was going to leave the Adirondacks without seeing if the Enchanted Forest is still enchanting.

So mid-way through the week, while taking a break between canoeing, hiking, swimming and applying sun block and bug spray, I suggested that we all go to the Enchanted Forest. Everyone passed but Paul.

So off the two of us went, he disguised in a hat and sunglasses and me thinking to myself over and over again- I can’t believe I’m going to the Enchanted Forest with Pee-Wee Herman!!! On the way there I told him I’d never seen his TV show. He slowed the big, rented Buick and veered to the side of the road as he said “get out of the car!”

Once beyond the vintage turnstile we were both enchanted by Cinderella and her pumpkin coach, Humpty Dumpty, and what must be the biggest Paul Bunyan ever, to name a few. They were original but all a bit thicker from many coats of paint. After we’d seen it all and had several encounters with his fans, (even with his hat and sunglasses on they still recognized him) we were hungry and it was time to go.

For lunch we wound up across the street and around the corner at a diner called the Muffin. Between bites of my delicious BLT I could see the waitress getting more and more frenzied over the fact that she was waiting on Pee-Wee. Not one split second after he had swallowed the last bite of his savory sandwich all three waitresses swarmed the table and asked for his autograph all at once. Can you sign this napkin for me? Can you sign one for my husband? Can you sign one for the restaurant? For the restaurant he wrote: To the Muffin Diner, MMMMMM…MUFFIN-Y! – Pee-Wee Herman.

Speaking of… PEE-WEE’S PLAYHOUSE, which USA Today just called one of the best TV shows ever, IS BACK ON THE AIR! Tune in weekday nights on Cartoon Network’s Adult Swim (check your local listings for times). And yes, I’ll be watching!

Here’s to the Enchanted Forest, Pee-Wee Herman and YOU!

The hand-painted sign reads: “OUR STORE WILL BE CLOSED FOR A MUCH NEEDED VACATION AT 12PM SHARP SUNDAY JULY 1st – WILL REOPEN MONDAY JULY 9th AT 7AM. The small print says “WISHING YOU A PLEASANT INDEPENDENCE DAY AND WE THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR KIND PATRONAGE AND FRIENDSHIP” signed “MARGIE AND HENRY.” This has to be Henry. Margie must be taking the picture.

A big, tasty Cuban cigar points up pursed between Henry’s lips. He sports a smart, but slouchy shirt and slacks. Right above that unexpected bleached blond hairdo of his delicious Country Club brand strawberry ice cream is pictured in a yellow bowl which goes so well with the spectacular mismatched shades of yellow Formica that finish the wall and countertop. Ribbed stainless steel-trimmed, barely padded, green Vinyl counter stools provide seating.

Hot Pastrami is 50 cents. Pictured piping hot on the “Ready-to-Serve” wall menu on the left are savory taste-treat sensations, Beef Stew, Chicken Stew, Spanish Rice, Macaroni Creole and Lamb something. I don’t know how the lamb is served, it got partly cut off by the Coke machine which sits center stage, steals the show and serves up what may well be the most famous product in history, the sparkling liquid version of caramel candy with a kick!

The sugar is half empty, the salt and pepper shakers and the ketchup bottle need refilling. But there is no need to do it right now; they’re taking the 4th of July week off.

Here’s to 4th of July, Henry and Margie, and what they had written on their sign: “WISHING YOU A PLEASANT INDEPENDENCE DAY AND WE THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR KIND PATRONAGE AND FRIENDSHIP” – I don’t know how to say it any better!

Slide of a Slide Show, San Jose, 1950

“FAMILY GROUP AT AUNT MYRTLE’S” is hand written on the mount of this slide.
In all of my years of collecting other people’s old slides this is the first time I’ve ever run across a slide of a slide show. This scene could not have been staged better. Everyone is cameras ready and picture-perfect. They are watching their own reality show. That’s why I just had to include it, right up front, in my new book AMERICANA THE BEAUTIFUL: MID-CENTURY CULTURE IN KODACHROME.

A multi-generational crowd is gathered ’round the heavily-grained, honey stained woodwork in Aunt Myrtle’s living room. Framed photos and fresh flowers add to the ambiance. Everyone’s eyes are fixed on the screen except the little boy and grandma, who’s dozing off. A baby doll sits in grandpa’s lap. Many wear glasses. Everyone is well dressed. The man in the middle sporting the snappy white shirt and smart polka-dot tie is the projectionist. He is sliding the slides, one at a time, through the projector. Little did any of them know that they would wind up pictured in a book!

This Sunday afternoon you are invited to celebrate the launch of AMERICANA THE BEAUTIFUL at Zanzabelle, the most colorful ice cream-candy-gift shop in town. I’ll be serving up the new book and FREE ice cream cones!

• WHAT: The AMERICANA THE BEAUTIFUL – ICE CREAM SOCIAL
• WHEN: This JUNE 25th, SUNDAY AFTERNOON – 3pm to 5pm
• WHERE: At Zanzabelle – 2912 Rowena Ave, LA, 90039
  ph 323 663-9900

Zanzabelle is 1/2 blk east of Hyperion, near the Coffee Table in Silver Lake,
Google Map

Here’s to Aunt Myrtle’s slide show, the new book and you!