Sawtooth Jack

There are things living in this field that will, by rights, be dead by tomorrow morning. One of them hangs on a splintery pole, its roots burrowing deep in rich black soil. Green vines climb through tattered clothes nailed to the pole and its crosspiece. They twist through the legs of the worn jeans like tendons, twine like a cripple's spine through a tattered denim jacket. Rounded leaves take succor from those vines like organs fed by blood vessels, and from the hearts of those leaves green tendrils sprout and the leaves and the vines and the tendrils fill up that coat and the arms that come with it.
A thicker vine creeps through the neck of that jacket, following that last few inches of splintery pole like a backbone, widening into a rough stem that roots in the thing balanced on the pole's flat crown.
That thing is heavy, and orange, and ripe.
That thing is a pumpkin.

 Text from Norman Partridge's book, Dark Harvest.

Image from Spooky Blue. Make your own pumpkin-headed scarecrow here.

Terror Onna Stick!

Still in my top five favorite scarecrows by a scarecrow master: Spooky Blue.
Of course, another is Stewie's daddy, The Grumble.

Spook's Grumble

My little angel, Stewie. 8' arm span, and all.

I am grateful every year that Spooky Blue was kind enough to talk me through this project, especially when Stewie scares the neighborhood kids. Thanks, Spook. You're a total rock star!
Spooky Blue's project page.

Speaking of Cats

ShellHawk's blog buddy, Spooky Blue, sent this to her, because her dad worked on Dune.

I forwarded it on to my dad. His reply:

"Now, if only I could get out of this stoopid sock."

Other Dune news here.

I Blame Spooky Blue

Everyone in life has their idols, whether they realize it or not. Americans seem to have many different kinds, ranging from pop stars and actors to politicians, to pop stars and actors who think they are or have become politicians.

For those of us who are prop builders, it's folks like Spooky Blue, or Rot of Pumpkinrot, or Grim of Grim Hollow (plus all you others out there!).

As I was surfing Spooky Blue's site last year, I went to his "Page 2" archive of stuff that didn't fit on page one. On that page was a link to his collection of vintage pumpkin lights. I glanced through it and went to another page. But later I went back. And I went back again.

I don't recall my folks having these when I was a kid growing up. My dad carved a pumpkin every year, and did a great job at it. But blow molds? None. In the back of my mind, I wondered what fascinated me so much about these cheesy little plastic decorations.

I could rhapsodize about the memories of bygone days these lamps bring out (I could, but again, we didn't own any), and wonderful memories about my mother's pumpkin pie baking in the oven, or the smell of cider mulling on the stove. But my mom never baked pies, or mulled cider, and frankly, she was a terrible cook. She hid from the kids on Halloween, so my dad would hand out the candy. And she hated horror movies.

No, the fact is, I like the unpretentiousness of them. These are simple lights from a simple time, and they don't aspire to be anything but that. They are Halloween In Plastic.
So when Christmas (and my father-in-law's usual Christmas check) came around, and I somehow found myself cruising eBay, I ran across a few blow mold style Halloween lights. Somehow, I started bidding on my prize: the 22-inch JOL made by Empire plastics. In truth, I'd been watching for one such as this for weeks on eBay, but the others were not up to snuff. One actually looked like it had been used for lawn bowling by a group of mutant chimpanzees. And that guy wanted $60.00 for it! This one was perfect, and in almost new condition. Considering it was made in the late '60s, it's in great shape. Probably better shape than I am. Though I notice after some considerable Holiday celebrating, I'm in serious danger of actually duplicating its shape. Eek!

Fortunately, there wasn't a massive bidding war for this piece, and I managed to negotiate downward about half of the shipping charge posted. When I got the, "You've won" email from eBay, I quietly went into a happy little orbit.

It arrived shortly before I left for L.A. for the Christmas Holiday, in exactly the condition advertised. I jumped up and down, laughing, as I opened it. I am REALLY glad Mr. ShellHawk wasn't home, as my leaping about would have blown my cool image with him. Hard to recover from that.

The others were a bonus find. With the exception of the witch holding the pumpkin on her shoulder, the others were sold as a lot for around $40.00 Shipping wasn't much more. I was excited to win these guys, as now I essentially got an entire collection in two transactions.

I dream of a few others I saw, but have (so far) refrained from bidding on because I really like being married to Mr. ShellHawk, and even his enormous tolerance for my odd taste in collecting has its limits. I dream of the little green light-up haunted house, and the orange one, and even that tacky orange, plastic light-up owl. I dream of the horrid-faced melting candle arriving in its oddly-shaped box, and the sound of the paper packing crackling as I tear it out, capering and dancing with joy.

Some girls go wild for diamonds and pearls. I go wild for vintage tacky plastic Halloween lights. Go figure.

I blame Spooky Blue.