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Reddy, Set, Go!

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: This might best be described as a you may never have seen it coming post, but I do like to mix things up occasionally and these earrings were a recent unusual acquisition.

I believe my introduction to Reddy Kilowatt was the lightbulb lamp. I can’t now remember if I saw it on American Pickers or if it was an auction – I want to say I saw it both ways maybe and just can’t remember which first. I fell hard for it, but me and extremely fragile objects like this don’t have a promising future so I never pursued ownership of one especially at the rarified prices these fetch. Still, a seed of fascination was born.

Listing photo from a Hake’s sale catalogue.

I am surprised to learn that Reddy was designed all the way back in 1926, hailing from Alabama as a commercial ploy to increase electric consumption. (Yes, it is hard to imagine a time when we perceived the need to increase our use of electricity.) Wikipedia says he was imagined as an “electrical servant” and notes that his ears are wall sockets and of course his nose a light bulb. It is interesting to find that his image is still currently under copyright.

Also via the Hake’s listing.

As for the earrings, I was late to stumble on a sale by one of my favorite sellers on Instagram a few months ago (I think it was a @marsh.and.meadow.overflow sale) and realized that I had just missed these rather splendid Reddy Kilowatt earrings. I had never seen this rarified item before and I had a significant ping! of disappointment. Much to my surprise and delight howevr, this pair which sports their original card, turned up in my feed about a month later via @oldghostsofhollywood who happily sent them right off to me.

From the Reddy Kilowatt comic book?

As someone who cannot wear pierced earrings I was additionally pleased that these earrings re screwbacks so I can actually wear Reddy. The front of the card reminds you that Reddy is, The Mighty Atom and the Symbol of Your Investor-Owned Utility Company. Inside he greets you, Hello: I’m Reddy Kilowatt, your good Electric Servant who works long hours for low, low wages. Just think of the many jobs I do in YOUR home…office..farm…store or plant…then think of how little each job costs! The copyright here is 1955.

Inside of earring card. Pams-Pictorama.com collection.
Back of card.

He is also Your Favorite “Pin-Up” and on the back it reads, I’m a Busy Little Atom, I split myself in two and multiply as many times as I have jobs to do! I’ll work for you for pennies, I’m fast, efficient, steady…so any time…to ease your work – Just “plug in,” folks – I’m Reddy! Your Electric Servant!…

When I revealed today’s topic to Kim he shared that there was a Reddy Kilowatt comic book of some note. Although our research did not turn up one that precisely matched his memory, there was indeed a comic book which came out in 1946 as an EC giveaway. Stories and art are identified as by Del Porter and others in one listing. I am told that the book relates Reddy’s story from ancient times until modern day and evidently includes a special Reddy Kilowatt polka complete with music. A reprint seems to team him with the story of Thomas Edison in another edition.

Not in Pams-Pictorama.com collection.

The post war period created an opportunity for increased electric usage and Reddy grew in evidence with a proliferation of trinkets (tie, stick and lapel pins, cuff links and bracelets are all available online) and a litany of other giveaways. Disney was approached for a cartoon in ’43 which never moved forward and it was Walter Lanz who brought him to animated life in a short film which came out in March of 1946 and the comic book was actually produced in conjunction with this film.

Page from the comic book which is available on various sites online.

Wikipedia says that there was an attempt to trot Reddy back out in the 1970’s as a mascot for energy conservation, but somehow this spiffy little energy spendthrift dynamo could not make the transformation and he did not achieve renewed fame in his new role.

White Cat Union Suits

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: The brilliant advertising of the Black Cat Hosiery Company, brought to us by the fine folks in Kenosha, Wisconsin, is sort of a square one for the kind of cat collecting I do. While this is only one of several pieces I have managed to acquired (you can find a post about the first one here), given the opportunity (and unlimited funds – I am not alone in my affection for it and it is generally pricey) I would collect deeply in this area and more or less surround myself with it.

In another prior post (which can be found here) I briefly cover the history of this company and its cat committed advertising campaign. Better known for its smiling black cats and stockings, the white kitty takes over (appropriately) for the union suits.

Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

I have opined on how the smiling black cat in their advertising looks remarkably like our fine feline fellow, Blackie. This white cat reminds me of a little white rescue cat my mom had many years ago named Kitsy. An all white cat, she was not deaf like many, and she was a bit neurotic. I don’t actually remember her origin story, nor much about her tenure – there was a wealth of cats at that time – but she was most remarkable and memorable for being extremely petit, almost miniature.

This hand mirror crossed my path a few weeks ago and I snatched it up. Here our smiling white kitty sits atop a cushion that reminds us it is a trade mark. While a black cat was employed to implore us to purchase black stockings and socks, this feline urges us to Buy White Cat Union Suits. He or she smiles benignly over a big black bow. Comically somehow the all white kit does bring a union suit to mind. For a less than sexy item, this cat does a pretty good come hither appeal.

Back of damaged mirror.

Sadly the image is a bit damaged on the front of the mirror and the back no longer has enough detailed reflective space for most folks to apply lipstick. (Over many years I have developed a talent for applying lipstick without a mirror. Is this a good idea? I don’t know, but I have done it for years. Of course I would want a nifty little mirror like this to pull out if I needed one.)

Do people still wear union suits? A Google search offers you choices to buy (mostly red!), but also tells us these were mostly popular in the late 19th and early 20th century. I guess houses were colder. As someone who has rejected the jumpsuit craze for women repeatedly over the years (having to disrobe every time I go to the bathroom is just too much work for me) I cannot see embracing the all-in-one to wear – cat advertising notwithstanding.

Las Fajas Robert, or Robert’s Girdles

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: Continuing with my weekend theme of cardboard kitties, I present this splendid and unusual Felix as cardboard cat advertisement which comes to me from a friend north of the border with whom I exchange Felix pleasantries on an ongoing basis. He sells me the occasional item as well and this one came into the house a month or so ago.

I find this big footed slightly off-model fellow endearing. He is neither exactly the very round later designed Felix we are familiar with, nor the squared off early version, but somehow between and both. His claw paws are a bit more pronounced than I think is generally the order of Felix. Sort of like Felix’s kissing cousin.

He is from South America, Uruguay evidently. Latin America seemed to be fond of Felix and I think one could put together an interesting collection of off-model toys and advertisements hailing from this part of the world. (I don’t have many but posts with two other examples can be found here and here.)

This one advertises a child’s laxative! Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

And as evidenced by this card, Felix was employed to hawk a wide variety of disparate things. Here he is shilling for girdles. All my translations are owing to Google and on the front it seems he says, Ma’am, do you know Robert’s Girdles?

And on the back, Surely yes, but if it were not so, all you have to do is grant me the honor of a visit to the Orthopedics Section where you will find any type of girdle either to dress or to correct the various topsis of the stomach. Always demand the Robert Antonio Rebollo (Casa Quadri) Avda. 18 de Julio 929 Rio Branco 1377. And on his feet: Imprinta German Urugaya Poisindu 756 m Bavio Maeso Prapanganda. (I don’t know where topsis of the stomach came from, but it is so descriptive I decided to leave it. Seems to me topsis of the stomach is something you have after you put the girdle on and I know I have experienced it.) Someone has written Felix in faded pencil at the top.

Back of the card – some of you folks might do a better translation. Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

There is no way to know the age of the card. Girdles went largely out of fashion in the late 1960’s in this country. (They have returned in the form of shape wear now, a girdle by a different name and with contemporary fabrics. For those of you who have not experienced it, this is still an act of forcing your body like a round peg into a square hole of fabric.) The card could be from any period when Felix was popular enough to press into service.

He’s about eight inches high and made of a medium weight cardboard. There are no marks or indications that he would have hung somewhere, nor a way for him to stand so I guess these were just hand outs. He is a bit large as calling cards go though, but despite some fold marks on his legs he survives in good condition. Someone tucked him away safely and we will assume it was his Felix-y charm, not the need to remember where to get a good girdle.

Cardboard Cats

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: This is one of two very special cardboard kitties I have to offer at the moment, purchased in recent months but who have not yet had their premiere here at Pictorama. First I focus on this nifty fellow.

I have seen him offered once or twice before and chased him around the internet some, but never acquiring him. Then he fell in my lap at a most unexpected moment, late one hectic night a few weeks ago when I was having a quick look at my phone and found him being offered to my by my Mid-west maven, Miss Molly (@missmollysantiques) via Instagram. I scooped up some other fine Halloween decorations (one from a few weeks ago can be found here), however this one interests me in part because he’s almost not quite a Halloween fellow, although I assume that is his origin. A black cat for all seasons in my book.

Kitty expanded for posing here on Kim’s desk. Pams-Pictorama.com collection.

He offers only that he was Made in the USA by way of markings and is small, only about 12 inches. His monochromatic black and white works for me for being bold with his big what bow which makes me think of a tuxedo kitty. He bares his fangs though and looks reasonably fierce for a guy in a bow and his tail curls up behind him in a question mark. Despite his snarl he has a certain come hither charm.

The back side of Kitty flat. A bit of crayon here from an errant child! Not visible when displayed however. Pams-Pictorama.com.

It is the design of Mr. Kitty that makes him special. For storage he lies flat, but at the bottom we are encouraged to Push in and fold back to form easel. This takes a few minutes to exactly figure out, but then you do and an accordion middle made of a honeycomb of tissue paper allows him to expand into an almost 3-D feline, using his tail for extra ballast.

What exact role he was intended to play I am unsure, as his size makes him a bit small as Halloween decor goes. However with his neat design and snappy appearance he rates a place at my table any day of the year.

Transformation

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: The last of the Mom posts today, for now anyway.

It is Thursday night and I am back in New Jersey. I worked remotely today and will spend tomorrow preparing for a repast for mom on Saturday – 40-50 people over several hours stopping by to chat and have a nosh. The resident cats are surrounding and circling me endlessly since my arrival last night.

The cat family greeting.

Since my mom died almost three weeks ago I seem to live in a state that is strangely and endlessly anxious. I think it is a constant unconscious feeling that I am forgetting to check on her nagging at the back of my mind. Also a terrible sense of always feeling like I am in the wrong place, a perpetual fish out of water. Being back at the house has eased this slightly, perhaps because I am here with the specific mission of getting ready to receive people on Saturday. Or maybe it is being here and forcing my brain and subconscious to accept that mom is no longer here to be cared for.

Stormy, dubbed Cat of Mystery by me, is starting to get a bit more social. She also likes to sit in the window.

Friday and a day of cleaning, shopping and cooking. I thought the house had been deep cleaned right after mom died, but friends showed up today and cleaned some more in preparation for tomorrow. Many hands did make for lighter work and the care of all these women surrounds me in a way that makes me feel like a kid again. In the process of the many cleanings and work that has been done the house is slowly becoming more of a home again, the bed no longer in the kitchen, the roar of the oxygen tank with the cord I was always afraid of tripping over gone.

Peaches.

A certain Pam-ness is starting to exert itself undeniably. Paintings brought up from the basement where they were in exile for some reason. A litany of small repairs are being made. I am having the black front door painted red, just for fun. Circus lights now festoon the back deck. Making it my own was what mom wanted and I believe she approves.

The garden is blooming early this year. Although mom never was able to set foot in it she enjoyed greatly it from the windows and via a series of recordings made for her to celebrate each phase of each season. She’d watch these again and again and share them with friends and family. (Here is a video from last spring that is still up.) Everyone remarks on the beauty of the backyard.

The peonies

The peonies I gave her several years ago are already bursting as are her roses. Mom was good with roses in an effortless way. Did she just know good spots for them? I never remember her fussing over them especially. My nascent herb garden and tomato plants are slowly gaining traction. A dahlia is shooting up in a planter. Unclear though if I have inherited the green thumb or just having some beginners luck as well as guidance from gifted gardening friends.

The roses in the backyard.

Tomorrow some family and a number of her friends will raise a glass to her and nibble on vast piles of fruit salad, cheese sandwiches and cupcakes we purchased and assembled today.

Sunday. Well, it rained hard all day. I said it was because mom was looking on and was worried about the cats getting out with people coming and going. Kim showed up early and was introduced to Hobo who received his third meal of the day from him. That cat must have a hollow leg.

Hobo on meal number one of three yesterday, at about 6:30 AM.

The plant people were all pleased about the rain as we haven’t had much and being plant people we walked out in the garden despite the rain. The animal folks were in a group talking about the rescue of a fawn that was unfolding and some left to go help with that. (Mom’s obit with information about her work in animal rescue and welfare can be found here.)

Family, caregivers and one of our neighbors all discovered people in common and mingled and marveled over the few degrees of separation that were unfolding as I guess they do in smallish towns. Like a wedding I don’t spend enough time with any one person while trying to get to all.

I woke up, exhausted this morning, back here in Manhattan, with Kim and cats. (It is Kim’s birthday – shout out to him! We sang a sloppy Happy Birthday over cupcakes to him at the end of the party yesterday.)

The eggshell this layer of protection I felt during mom’s last months has been broken and my time in that liminal space has ended. It’s a hard finding myself back out in the world again with new responsibilities as well as the old ones rushing back in. It is lonely without her, but she left me with new friends and renewed connections. I am so grateful for their ongoing ministrations. The page turns and the next chapter starts now.

Detour

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: I purchased this nice bit of Halloween in a group buy several weeks ago which I am just starting to sort out. (Purchased from @missmollystlantiques on Instagram – they flashed by me while I was doing a bunch of stuff and I just grabbed them and was pleased when they showed up in the mail later.) I am just starting to sort these out – Pictorama readers will be treated to more of them in future posts.

Despite what might seem obvious, I don’t collect Halloween items deeply. The paper items make up a small percentage of my black cat collection as storage (I am a poor caretaker for paper in general) and display are issues, but a number of things have come over the transom and this little trove appealed.

In cardboard decorations, I like a nice heavy cardboard like this and of course even better when it is embossed and textured in this way. (The heaviest of these tend to be German, but this has an almost illegible made in the USA on the front.) I would be tempted to actually hang ones like this for Halloween if I had the right opportunity. After all, no reason not to use them, albeit gently. Small pin holes from years of hanging exist and no need for new ones. I would avoid tape. However, somehow sadly apartment life has not lent itself to this.

As Halloween decorations go this one seems somewhat odd. I bought it for the two nice black cats, but as I sit here looking at it I am wondering about the design: stop, go, and detour. Against an orange moon, Halloween lanterns light the way and these two kits are trying to decide which way to go. I guess from scary movies we know that taking the detour is probably going to lead toward all kinds of trouble.

It seems oddly philosophical for a Halloween decoration and yet somewhat appropriate for someone who just inherited a house and five cats in another state and is suddenly facing a detour trying to figure that thing out.

Diamond Dye

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: This scene of early comical commercial carnage is brought to us by Diamond Dye which claims to be the simplest strongest fastest and please know that, they have no equal. And of course so easy a child can use them! Additionally the back also boasts news of three new colors Fast Stocking Black, Turkey Red for Cotton and Brown for Cotton. I guess no one could come up with a nifty name for brown.

Back of card. Pams-Pictorama.com collection.

Diamond Dyes do not seem to exist today, nor can I find out much about their illustrious history, but they had a robust advertising life in the earliest days of the 20th century. This somewhat unappealing youngster has dipped both her doll and kitty in the dye. I can’t help but wonder if the message at the bottom was also a double entendre – It’s easy to dye with Diamond Dye. Ahem.

Another popular Diamond Dye card, not in Pams-Pictorama.com collection.

Back when I was a tiny tot, in nursery school, and we were living in a small house in northern New Jersey. We had our German Shepard already, Duchess, and a lovely black and white cow-spotty male cat named Snoopy. Snoops was a heavy set, slow moving cat of infinite patience – the one I would routinely dress in doll cloths and play circus cat with. He was not a hugely mischievous cat and in fact this might be the only story of its kind I can think of. He was generally in my words today, a very good kitty.

Mom, who was always industrious about home care and maintenance, had gotten the idea to paint the brick floor of the screened back porch bright red. And yes indeed, when she wasn’t looking, Snoopy made his slow determined kitty walk right across that wet paint and kept going, so not only did we have a cat with bright red paws (at first mom thought they were bleeding), but of course his paw prints after he marched across the kitchen. He remained dignified, quite unconcerned and unfazed by the fuss he ultimately caused. The dog, who was always misbehaving, was probably overjoyed to see the cat in trouble for a change. Clearly mom must have flipped out since I remember the whole seen these many years later. (For some reason it also reminds me a story from the same era when a friend of my sister’s smeared lipstick on one of the walls. Mom had great fortitude it seems and she didn’t kill him. His name was David Mount – no idea why I remember that. I wonder what he grew up to be?)

Nifty dye cabinet – wish it was in my collection!

My own experience with dye is limited to some batiking I did in high school and college. To keep the melted wax in place we used cold water dyes which were far easier and less complicated than these early dyes which would have required boiling water. While I am sure they were state of the art in their day, I think I can understand their disappearance. I can only say I know enough about it to know that I would have probably unintentionally ended up looking like this somewhat malevolent looking child if I had tried to use them.

Monmouth County Days

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: When this posts on Saturday I will be making my way to the cemetery to see my mom’s mortal remains off. So I apologize that this will be another brief and Pam-centric post.

As I write it is a dark and damp Thursday morning. Coffee is perking, cats have been fed. I woke at 3:00 and two of the cats strolled into my room and onto my bed to keep me company and fight for my attention. It did distract me from my fretting. Gus had the temerity to chase Beau’s tail!

I cut up a watermelon which has been sitting since before mom passed. A friend had brought it by for her. It’s more watermelon than I can eat so I will share it with friends to take home to their kids. After cooking for large numbers of people it is mostly just me now and the food production and consumption is amping way down except when folks stop by to check on me.

Long Branch Poultry Farm, since 1939.

The various machinations of the week have taken me to some locales that I haven’t visited in decades and occasionally requiring amazing feats of memory as I take on the role of navigator for the folks kind enough to drive me on my various rounds.

For example near the funeral home was an ancient poultry farm where my parents used to stop for eggs on our way to or from my grandmother’s house. The friend who was driving me stopped to look at the plants that are now sold outside and the childhood memories flooded back. I probably have not stood in that driveway since I was 12 years old.

Another night someone took me out to dinner at Bahr’s Landing, a waterside seafood restaurant of my childhood. My last trip there was with my sister for my birthday, the year before she died, but it was a family favorite for special occasions as a kid and my late teens and early twenties saw many a late night at the outdoor clam shack for a late night snack and a beer. A week of This is Your Life style fascination.

Extraordinary clouds over the water at Bahr’s Landing restaurant.

Some days have seemed long and others zipped by. Uniformly the nights and early mornings (mom’s best time in recent years) have been difficult. The house itself seems to be in a gentle form of revolt starting with a series of roof leaks (which left me facing a very young man who attempted to sell me a new roof, but instead agreed to just overcharge me for what desperately needed to be done to stop the immediate water incursion) and followed by water in the basement as the result of a broken drainpipe.

A farm stop in Holmdel where geraniums were procured.

My bouts of manic energy have gone into cleaning and the redistribution of things no longer needed. It has also resulted in some gardening which seems to calm me down. Some of those efforts shown on the deck above, a new favorite spot.

After I get through tomorrow on Sunday I will head back to Manhattan and to the office on Monday. The shell will be thoroughly broken and back into the world I go.

Mourning in NJ

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: It is a morning of heavy mist to drizzle here in Monmouth County and like the day I am weeping on and off as mom died early yesterday morning. It is challenging my desire to go out for a run. (A violent stomach virus wiped me out for running starting last week and between mom and the weather I have not yet been able to return.) A half eaten yogurt in the fridge or a favorite purple pillow can send me boo hooing again.

Undated Halloween photo of Mom, Dad, me and Loren.

I have written about the time I have spent here in New Jersey caring for mom and the special space and time the bubble of her care created here. (A few of those posts can be found here and here.) However, in recent weeks she began to deteriorate at an alarming rate. She was determined that she would not leave the house so at times we struggled with limited options to relieve her trouble breathing and discomfort. I watched as her caregivers employed feats of engineering with pillows to maximize her comfort and ability to breathe. In the end we accomplished the feat of keeping her here and yet reasonably comfortable.

The boy cats are assembled on mom’s chair this morning.

We could not have wished for her to linger and suffer longer, but we were reluctant to let go nonetheless. I may write more about all of it at a future time but for now I am left wandering an empty house (if one can have five cats and call it lonely) after hosting a myriad of care givers, various house tradesmen and friends.

Me, Edward and a very young mom.

The reality of a house after living my entire adult life in one room, most recently spending all day and night in it with Kim and the cats throughout the pandemic. Although a small Cape Cod, I wander rooms now which seem too many and very quiet despite cats and televisions left on. I am used to either the bustle of our tiny apartment or nurses tucked into corners and recliner chairs here. I am comforted by the site of the flowers recently placed in planters on the deck and have moved my computer from the upstairs office to the kitchen where the cats are gathered on my mother’s chair. I think my friend had that in mind when she encouraged me to plant them recently.

Beau was mom’s most special friend and he is guarding me and the chair now.

So today I am just writing because I know my consistent (and wonderful) readers know I never miss a post and I did yesterday. I had been up since midnight the prior night and exhaustion permeated a day that was busy by necessity. Today I hope to start gathering my wits and thoughts and organizing the next chapter here.

Barker School, 1928

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Pam’s Pictorama.com: even by my standards this is a pretty goofy photo. Extremely faded at the bottom left it says, Barker School and on the other side barely legible, May 31, 1928. Written on the back in pencil is Woodland, Maine and Halloween Costumes – which clearly they are not since we know it was taken in May.

Even in my wildest imagination I can’t figure out what kind of school play might have given birth to these costumes – from the strange dark masked characters which look like Zuni dancers, to the weird scarecrow type figure the jolly bunny and a sad little turtle boy thrown into the mix. A pretty dark fairy tale.

This card was never used and my sense is that the writing on the back is a later addition although in two different hands so maybe added at different times. It is a bit bleached out so I have increased the contrast a bit with some computer magic. Even with that it is hard to figure out what the heck is going on here.

There is a small figure in the middle with what appears to be a parasol, also dressed in black that looks a bit cat like. My feeling though is that it is some sort of spring planting festival with the scarecrow and bunny – somehow the figures in black are reminding me of corn? The figure in the lower left is a complete mystery – no idea what he or she is about although a happy looking character.

Below I share a more or less contemporaneous photo (via a photo postcard) of the Barker School. I cannot seem to confirm if it exists today or not. It may have been renamed.

Not in Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

I would have loved to have been in school plays like this and perhaps that is part of the appeal of such photos for me. I was always up for dressing up and putting on a show. Combined with this lovely day in Maine in May seems almost irresitable.

PS – I am feeling better today. Tummy winced at my morning coffee, but definitely better.