For the final week of Inktober 2015, here’s the original Egyptian (w)rapper.
IF: adventure
My family went on an adventure to Walt Disney World last week. On the day we chose to visit EPCOT, we queued up for Universe of Energy, a fun and educational presentation featuring Ellen DeGeneres, Alex Trebek, Jamie Lee Curtis, Bill Nye the Science Guy and a cast of assorted dinosaurs. Guests are treated to an integrated combination of film and Audio-Animatronic figures delivering a message of… oh, I don’t know… something about energy. To be honest, I have a tendency to doze off somewhere in the middle of the 45-minute presentation.
When we arrived at the entrance of the massive building that houses the show, a show was already in progress. The attraction can accommodate 1500 guests at one time, with three shows running simultaneously, so it is very likely that all those waiting outside will get in to see the next show, even at the park’s busiest times. So, we took a seat on a low wall that lined a manicured arrangement of colorful flowers and shrubbery, all beautifully landscaped in the perfect Disney tradition. We were soon joined by other guests who scattered themselves about the large waiting area outside the tinted entrance doors. A mother walked up with a small boy of about five years-old. He was a typical kid, so we really didn’t take notice until…
If you have visited any Disney theme park, you know that — within minutes — you become accustomed to waiting in line. Disney, like most similar entertainment parks, has a very elaborate but easy-to-follow system of waiting in line. Most rides are equipped with a network of rails and chains and poles and ropes to create a path that leads guests to the boarding area in an efficient and orderly fashion. After a while, queuing up and waiting in line becomes second nature. Wanna go on a ride? Get in line. Soon, you don’t even think about it, you just do it.
Well, this little boy had quickly grasped the concept of waiting in line and he was not going to stray from what he was taught by the good folks at Disney. The entrance to Universe of Energy was mildly occluded by a thin rope stretched between two shiny metal poles. The little boy surveyed the area — the rope, the closed doors, the other guests scattered casually about — and frowned. He turned to his mother.
“Where does the line start?,” he asked.
His mother smiled and explained that the building is so big that all of these people will get in when the doors open.
He frowned again and furrowed his tiny eyebrows. “But where is the line? Where does it start?,” he demanded. His tone grew agitated, his words clipped. His mother, again, offered her explanation in a calm manner. “Honey, there is nothing to worry about. We will all get in. All of these people will get in.”
The kid wasn’t buying it. He grit his teeth and seethed, “But, where does the line start?” His voice lowered almost to a growl. His small neck tensed and his hands curled into fists.
His mother tried once more to pacify the boy, but he wanted no parts for her pathetic reasoning. “Dear, we will all —”
He cut her off. “JUST TELL ME WHERE THE LINE STARTS!,” he implored, “WHERE IS THE LINE? WHERE DOES IT START?”
His exasperated mother attempted to repeat her unconvincing claims of admission to the attraction, but the boy would not hear it. He was furious. He flung himself to the ground and kicked his feet. “WHERE IS THE LINE? WHERE IS THE LINE? TELL ME WHERE THE LINE STARTS!” His face was flushed and he looked like he was on the verge of frustrated tears.
The doors finally opened and the gathering crowd filed in. Once inside the building, everyone entered a large, cavernous room lined on one side with five huge movie screens placed high on the wall. Some guests took seats at the rear of the room on a long, futuristic-looking bench. Others stood on the dark red carpet, while others just planted themselves cross-legged right on the floor.
Now, the little boy saw that his mother had told the truth and there was, indeed, no line. He scanned this large room, turned to his mother and asked, “Now where does the line start in HERE?”
For another adventure from this trip, click here.
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inktober 2015: week three
Here’s my illustration for Inktober: week three. It’s Dr. Jekyll’s alter ego – Mr. Hyde.
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IF: stuffed
Look. I couldn’t eat another thing. I’m absolutely stuffed. Bugger off.
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IF: star
While appearing in a high school production, young Thalia Dickerson was spotted by a talent scout from Warner Brothers Studios. She was signed to a contract and made her debut with the stage name “Gloria Dickson” in 1937’s They Won’t Forget, a fictionalized account of the events surrounding the murder of 13-year-old Mary Phagan. The film was also the debut of another young actress named Lana Turner. The film was a hit and studio head Jack Warner proclaimed Gloria as his new “Star on the Rise.”
On her first day at Warner’s, Gloria met make-up man Perc Westmore. Perc introduced Gloria to what would become one of her favorite pastimes — drinking. Soon, Gloria married Perc and he suggested (or insisted) that Gloria get a nose job. Under her husband’s (and alcohol’s) influence, she became unreliable on film sets and her career began to suffer. Although he made many career demands, Perc was also a womanizer and the marriage was over in three years.
Gloria was eventually relegated to B-movies, despite one-time roles alongside John Garfield and Claude Rains. She landed a part in Barbara Stanwyck’s Lady of Burlesque, a murder-mystery penned by stripper Gypsy Rose Lee, hoping it would jumpstart her slumping career. It didn’t, and acting jobs came fewer and far between.
After another brief marriage to her I Want a Divorce director Ralph Murphy (another adulterer), Gloria married former boxer (and Jean Harlow bodyguard) Bill Fitzgerald. The couple moved into the former Hollywood residence of Stanley Toler (best remembered as the silver screen’s Charlie Chan). The house was an odd structure, with small, second-floor windows set high on the walls.
On April 10, 1945, Gloria was dozing in the living room and decided to head upstairs for an afternoon nap. Around 2 PM, a neighbor detected the smell of burning leaves. A few hours later, the smell persisted and other neighbors spotted flames shooting from the roof of Gloria’s house. Five fire departments were summoned at the home. Gloria’s husband Bill arrived home, screaming, “My baby’s in there! I have to save my baby!” Fire official prevented him from entering the burning building. Later, Gloria’s body was discovered, face down, in a second floor bathroom. An examination revealed that her lungs had been seared and she succumbed to smoke inhalation, as well as suffering first and second-degree burns. He pet dog’s body was found next to her. The fire was caused by a smoldering cigarette that Gloria had left on a chair in the living room. It was further surmised that she was unable to access the small, awkwardly placed, second floor windows in an attempt to climb out to safety. Gloria was 27 years old. Her widower had her grave marker inscribed “My Baby.”
Five years later, Bill Fitzgerald remarried. He was arrested within a month of his marriage for passing bad checks on his new bride’s bank account. The last check was written to a hotel that was a known front for prostitution. He was sentenced to five years in prison, during which he died, at 47, of complications of venereal disease. His unclaimed body was buried in the communal prison cemetery.
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inktober 2015: week 2
Here’s my second illustration for Inktober 2015.
I don’t know his name, but his face rings a bell.
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inktober 2015: week one
Well, here we go again! It’s officially October or, as it’s known in the online illustration world, Inktober! Every year, several illustration websites have presented the Inktober challenge. The challnge is to create an ink drawing everyday in the month of October. As I mentioned last year, when I participated for the first time, I am lazy and I would be taking the lazy way out. I would be doing one ink drawing per week.
So here’s my first one, keeping the same “monsters” theme as last year. (If you are so inclined, you can see my Inktober submissions from last year here.) I have three more to do. I better pick up the pace.
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from my sketchbook: patsy kelly
Twelve-year old Patsy Kelly made her show business debut as a vaudeville dancer. She eventually moved on to Broadway as a teenager until she landed a contract with producer Hal Roach. Young Patsy appeared in a series of popular shorts with Thelma Todd. Here, she honed her character of the wise-cracking sidekick. Patsy and Thelma made 35 shorts together until Thelma’s untimely death in 1935.
Patsy moved onto full-length pictures, usually playing smart-alec domestics and other working-class types. But her film career stalled in the 40s and she headed back to Broadway. She worked in various productions and soon became personal assistant to Tallulah Bankhead.
In the 1950s, Pasty made numerous appearances on episodic television. Patsy had roles in both dramas and comedies, including The Wild Wild West, The Dick Van Dyke Show and Alfred Hitchcock Presents. The 1960s brought Patsy a memorable role in the hit film Rosemary’s Baby. In the 70s, she won a Tony for her role of the tap-dancing maid in the revival of No, No, Nanette. She also had small parts in several Disney films. She made her last screen appearance in a two-part episode of The Love Boat. A stroke, that left her unable to speak, ended her acting career in 1980.
At the height of her popularity, Patsy was an anomaly in Hollywood. In a time when gay actors’ sexual orientation was a closely guarded secret, Patsy was openly gay, often referring to herself, proudly, as a “dyke.” In a 1930 interview, she revealed that she was living with actress Wilma Cox and had no intention of marrying. She also claimed to have had an affair with Tallulah Bankhead while in her employ.
Patsy passed away in 1981 at the Motion Picture & Television Country House in Woodland Hills, California. She was 71 years old.
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IF: prize
Aunt Bee is just gonna have to come to the realization that she will never top Clara for “Best Pickles” at the county fair.
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IF: mermaid
In 1842, master showman P.T. Barum leased a curiosity from Moses Kimball, a Boston contemporary. Barnum had big plans for the piece – the Fiji Mermaid. He wrote letters to newspapers, fabricating a story of the mermaid’s exotic past. He had an associate pose as “Dr. Griffith,” a so-called noted expert on … whatever. The act was convincing and people showed up at Barnum’s New York museum in droves. Barnum distributed pamphlets describing the mermaid’s zoological origins.
The Fiji Mermaid was, in reality, a novelty from Japan. It was comprised of the torso of a small monkey carefully stitched onto the tail of a fish. Additional animal hair was added for a more gruesome effect. These taxidermic specimens were popular in the Far East. However, Barnum wasn’t interested in the actual origin of the thing. The story he made up was more important to him and more interesting to his customers. He made back his weekly leasing payment of $12.50 in no time.
The Fiji Mermaid was allegedly lost in one of several fires at Barnum’s museum, but duplicate versions have surfaced around the world for years.