1939 De Luxe Plymouth Four-Door Touring Sedan


Travelodge - Sleepy, not Drinky.

Another item from the shipment from Alert Reader Mandy today. It's a postcard bought at TraveLodge, probably around the 1960 or so.

One might get the idea that, should you choose to spend a night at a TraveLodge, you could expect to have a seventy-foot bear shuffling around the parking lot, peering in your window, looking for a place to crash. But no, Sleepy bear was just the mascot of TraveLodge (which apparently still exists today). Judging by their graphic on the website, which also serves as a loose chronology of the character's design, this version of Drinky Stoney Sleepy The Bear dates from the early Sixties, or thereabouts. The design of the motel itself seems to agree with that estimate.

As it always seems to go with mascot "refreshes", every iteration of the character got weirder and uglier. Well done, Lowest Bidding Graphics Consulting Design Firm.

The Sleepy The Bear on the back of the postcard looks, as noted by Mandy, more zombie than sleepy. A free continental breakfast is available in the cafe from 6-10 am. A fine selection of breakfast items will be served, but the brains go fast, so come early!

Hmm. That bear looks familiar. Hang on a sec. Let me browbeat an intern into checking on it..... a HA!


I knew it! We posted a photo of Semi-Concussed The Bear way back in 2010! Let's roll back the hands of time to artificially lengthen this post with minimal effort, shall we?

Our second feature is this delightful drunk teddy bear, ready to stagger into your heart and vomit down your aorta, mistaking it for a toilet. "Drinky Bear" was the mascot of a small chain of midwestern addiction centers in the sixties, and this example of Drinky is in fine condition, from his mismatched footpads to his baffling camel toe. Drinky's not dead yet! The "halo" is merely part of the art on the game box holding him up. If you bring home Drinky, you can pretend the price tag on his wrist is a medic alert bracelet, alerting would-be resuscitators of his allergy to Vivitrol. The only medicine he needs is your love! And bourbon!

According to Wikpedia, if your family chose to spring for the Sleepy bear Den, each child would get a free stuffed version of Novocaine Bear. That's one financially unsustainable premium! While the Sleepy bear Den feature of Travel Lodge (the budgetary savings from discontinuing the "free bear" campaign now being spent on a space in the logo between "Travel" and "Lodge") seems to be a thing of the past, the Sleepy Bear Dens seem to still be available at some franchises.

Know how you can still get yourself a Barbituate Bear? Right here, baby. He's a PNG with alpha channel, so you can put him on your own lampshades and bedspreads. Don't nod off yet, Hesher The Bear, you've got lots of work to do. Don't worry about using him, readers. He works for peanuts... or Methadone. You're welcome!


Billy in the park.


FORGE/Ltd. line - Exquisitely bored.

Okay, people! Time is money! Let's get this happening happening, you dig?

Don, have the kids got their Davy Jones getups on? Hey, where's Stan's vest? Has anyone got Stan's vest? Huh? He burned a hole in it with his weed? Terrific. He's only been here fifteen minutes. Don, make a note that the cost of the vest will come out of his pay, and take away his pot. Just put it in my car. Julie, run over to the rep from Forge and ask if they've got another vest. And do it like now.

Okay, you three all over here. Snap snap. Pay attention, kids. You all look fab. Truly fab. Well, except for you, Trisha. You're just here as a decoration for Stan's arm. Yeah, black sweater, I know. Hey, your day rate is your day rate. I don't wanna hear it, sweetie. Just try to look bored. I dunno. Really bored. Like, quaalude bored. Figure it out. Here's your stool. Your sitting and bored and you're wearing a black sweater. That's your motivation. Don't talk to me about motivation, sweetie.

Bill, you're in back. Lean on the wall. Well, actually, it's just a plywood flat clamped to a C-stand, so try to just look like you're leaning on it. Okay, that's good, sweetheart. Now, elbow up on Stan's shoulder. Good, good. Yeah, it's called acting, honey. Act like you're comfortable and really bored, like you're waiting for a bus but when it comes you don't care if you fall asleep and you miss it.

Stan, you're sitting on Julie's knee. No, she's fine. Jeez, okay. Well, then just kind of crouch as if you're sitting on her knee. Fist on your hip. That's great, Stan. Try to look down at her like you just noticed she's there and you're not sure where she came from. But bored. Don't forget you're bored! Groovy and bored. Gooooood, good.

Okay, Julie. Just a little more bored. Like, ummm... like you can't believe you took this gig and you're mad at your agent. Now, hold onto Stan's arm as if he might fall over if you don't. Because he probably will, that's why, sweetie.

Okay, you're all disinterested! You're fab and you don't care! Maybe even a little angry. Just a little! Good, good! We're getting good shots here, kids! Looking bored. Reeeally bored! I like. I like. Julie, stare off a little bit, but try not to look like you're thinking about anything. Perfect. Stan, stare at her hair. Yep, you heard me. Like you're not sure where that smell is coming from. Yep, Good.

Okay, that's a wrap, everyone! You're terrific! Don, we won't work with Stan again. You put the weed in the front seat, right? Great. It's a long ride back to the office.


The Sioux Spaceman - Bah bah bah ooo mow mow.


AOTS - Rhesus Monkey Mirror Study.



King's Tropical Inn

Alert reader Mandy sent us a padded envelope trove of stuff last week. She must have broke the bank, because I happen to know that post cards with blank backs are more expensive than ones that are filled in. Apparently, someone back in History was only a post card buyer, but not a sender. And he or she probably ate at King's Tropical Inn. Based on this, we can guess that they also ordered the "Jumbo Squab Dinner", took it home and stuck it in an attic for seventy years or so.

Some things never change. On the front of the card, we meet John G. King, our host, and presumed owner of the restaurant, but the name of the place is spelled "Kings", as if it's just named after a few monarchs. Okay, fine. Moving on....

On the back, it's spelled with a possessive apostrophe, like Johnny King owns the place. So, what have we learned? Ignorance of your mother tongue is not a new invention. But hey! Walter Winchell! Who was he, anyway?

Walter Winchell (April 7, 1897 – February 20, 1972) was an American newspaper and radio gossip commentator, famous for attempting to destroy the careers of people both private and public whom he disliked.

Wow, he sounds like a great guy. Winchell looked like Steve Martin before everyone was doing it. So, was he a prescient Steve Martin impersonator, or was Steve Martin a Walter Winchell impersonator? Never made it without biting. Ask Mister Owl.

This post card is the fold-in-half kind with four pictures on it, so the story doesn't end once you flip it over.

The exterior of King's looked like some kind of casbah, but camel parking was surprisingly prohibited. So was painting lane stripes on the street. Crazy times.

Fake starry sky ceiling. Every table a booth. (Presumably) fake palm trees all over the place. I would totally eat here all the time. If there was a nightly floor show, I would frikkin live there.
So what's at the corner of Washington and Adams in L.A. now? Get ready to be typically disappointed, people!

Strip malls and a few vacant store fronts. I looove L.A. Someplace calls itself "We Are Famous". Maybe they're being edgefully ironic, but if you're actually famous, you don't need to tell everyone you're famous. It seems that this building has, over the intervening decades, found owners with ever more profound levels of confusion regarding the meaning of words.