Mr. Tiny's Neighborhood Watch: Tiki Go Bragh

Limerick, Shamrock, Donnybrooke, and Kerry, these names offer the promise of a wee bit o' Ireland in the form of rolling green hills, stone cottages, and colorful village pubs.

What if I told you that there was a wacky tacky neighborhood in Southern California with street names as Irish as Irish Stew but whose architecture couldn't be further from the Emerald Isle - homes where fieldstone is replaced by lava rock and cozy thatch replaced by high-pitched roofs with longhouse beams?  Only about four suburban blocks long in either direction, there is a neighborhood that somehow manages to seamlessly blend the shillelagh with the ukulele.  

It's true!
Costa Mesa's Killybrooke neighborhood is an
island of island style in a sea of '60s ranch houses.

A half century of makeovers, remodels, and incongruous paint jobs have obscured some of the details of this tiki-tastic neighborhoood, but as the old saying goes, "The [tiki] devil is in the details."

Some people might tell you that these houses aren't anything special, but that's just a bit of the blarney.
The lava rock, decorative screens, assorted stone, and beautiful trim work all speak to their polynesian provenance.

Many of the homeowners, probably unaware of the treasures they have, try their best to disguise some of the tell-tale tiki signs.  If a homeowner has made it difficult to detect the Hawaiian-style heritage, one need only look up; it is easy to put on a new front door or slap on a coat of paint, but very few people change the roofline.

Some rooflines are high-pitched, some are supported by decorative beams.
My favorites have the extreme angled notch and the longhouse beams.

Beyond the Irish names, the most surprising part of this neighborhood is that not a single homeowner has truly embraced the original architecture.  The most exciting homes are those that have essentially just been left alone.

All it needs is a bit of landscaping!

Not the most ostentatious house on the block, I appreciate this one for the louvered
vents on the garage, the roll-down window blinds, and the dynamic roofline.  In its way it does
faintly echo the architecture of some of the modest plantation homes on the islands.

Take a peek at that peak!

The stone chimney and garage gable are great!

I kind of love the monochromatic scheme of these two houses.  In a way it makes the trim more of a textural element.

My favorite roofline!

This garden is headed in the right direction!

Contemporary garage doors just don't do these houses any favors but a polynesian paint scheme
(and maybe a couple of masks on those white insets) would do wonders for this house.

I think this home has got it down - the tropical foliage, the covered atrium with decorative screens, and the rock walls.
It definitely wins the Mr. Tiny's Neighborhood Watch Award!

Do these homes actually look like the type of architecture one is likely to encounter in Hawaii, Tahiti, Fiji, or Samoa?  Probably not.  There is no denying, however, that these houses are wonderful relics of America's obsession with polynesian pop in the mid-20th Century.  I can't wait for the day when a hardcore-tiki enthusiast brings the spirit of aloha back to this micro-community.  Just imagine the luau block parties!  

Saving the best revelation for last, I must disclose that in a near-adjacent neighborhood in the very same city, the streets, with names including Tahiti, Pitcairn, Samoa, Palau, Oahu, and Maui, are all named for islands.  Was this a major city-planning mistake?  I, for one, would like an explanation!!!  Maybe Mr. "Mele Kalikimaka" can elucidate...

"When Irish Eyes Are Smiling" - Bing Crosby

I guess as long as everybody is smiling, we should just be happy too.

I mean why wouldn't those eyes be smiling when gazing upon such 

an incredible neighborhood?

Do you have a polynesian-themed neighborhood where you live?  Would you want to live in a tiki-fied house?  Even better, do you live in a tiki house now?!  Have you ever been to Ireland?  Having never been there myself, it just occurred to me maybe there is nothing unique about this tract of homes; this must be exactly how all Irish neighborhoods look, right?!

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Tiki Time: Hong Kong Inn

I recently watched friends and acquaintances profess their undying love for tiki culture in the well-received documentary, "Plastic Paradise."  With a Polynesian bruddah-in-law, a hapa-haole nephew, and a mother who spent many of her formative years on the island of Oahu, I feel like there was no escaping my own predilection for Polynesian pop.

Incredible logo and art direction by Kevin Kidney
(Source)

As much as I enjoyed the program, I was a little disheartened at the documentary's discussion of the fundamental role Chinese food played in the tiki movement; it made me think of Hong Kong Inn, Ventura, CA's recently-shuttered outpost of 1960's-era Chinese food and Polynesian entertainment.  I was sad that I'd never had the chance to enjoy the hopistality of the Kwan brothers who opened Hong Kong Inn in 1964.  Seeing Hong Kong Inn's final Facebook post that read, "After 48 wonderful years, 100,000 Scorpions and Mai Tai's, 3,600 Polynesian revues, 10 children, and 15 grandchildren, the Hong Kong Inn of Ventura will be closing its doors on November 30, 2012.  We're retiring," I resigned myself to the fact that I would have to survive on the myth, the legend that was Hong Kong Inn.

Hong Kong Inn - Ventura, CA
Good wicky wacky tiki tacky always begins with a good sign!

Then one happy day, about two weeks ago, my uncle sent me a beautiful picture. 

"Grand Re-Opening: Under New Management"
Could it be true?!

Without dallying, I hopped straight onto the Google and searched for documented proof of Hong Kong Inn's rebirth.  I nervously dialed the phone number that I found online, half expecting a disconnected line or an interminable ringtone.  I was overjoyed at the sound of a sweet human voice who confirmed the restaurant's reopening and the perpetuation of Hong Kong Inn's finest traditions.  At the very first opportunity, all available members of the wacky tacky adventure team hit the road for old Hong Kong.

Emily was so happy when she learned that at Hong Kong Inn she wouldn't
have to make a choice; they have Chinese AND American food!!!

The rest of us were immediately impressed by the lanterns, the twelve-foot mural of
Hong Kong's Victoria Harbour, the highly-decorated bar, and the awesome placemat graphics!

I have never considered the position of celebrity-chef, Gordon Ramsay, a particularly enviable one; on top of the
daily root touch-ups and impossible highlight maintenance, there is the relegation of all that shameless, persona-propagating, coronary-inducing, red-faced bellowing to Friday nights on the Fox Network.  Never let it be said, however, that I am not a sucker for a good makeover.  I don't want to intimate that Hong Kong Inn is a prime candidate for Ramsay's "Kitchen Nightmares," but it wouldn't take much doing, in terms of decorating and recipe revision, to make it a "Kitchen dream come true."

Instead of dwelling on paltry, culinary quibbles, let's take a moment to observe Jesse
performing what I can only assume is a tiki mating ritual - the offering of the half-eaten rib.

Even if the food at Hong Kong Inn isn't the very best "Chinese & American Food" you've ever eaten, I'm told that the wealth of rum-infused tropical drinks more than makes up for any deficits.  Plus, the real purpose of our pilgrimage north of the Los Angeles/Ventura County line was Hong Kong Inn's finest offering, the "Polynesian Review!"* 

"Expressions of Polynesia," the exotic, island-style floor show as masterfully
presented by the talented performers from Kealoha & Company, is Hong Kong
Inn's greatest legacy.

Did someone say hips?!?!!

With more than twenty performers (dancers, singers, musicians), more than twenty musical numbers, and more than twenty costume changes, "Expressions of Polynesia" is more than enough fun for the entire family.  The two-hour spectacle is an interactive experience with opportunities to join the dance troupe on stage for some hip shaking and ball swinging - poi balls, that is.

Usually it's a bad night when a pair of poi balls makes intimate contact with another 

very significant pair but nothing could dampen the fun of participating in the show! 

My poor poi performance notwithstanding, the whole show was wonderful!
My very favorite performers were actually a dynamic mother-daughter duo.
Tina (mother) was the stage manager, musical director, comic relief, and
songstress for the evening; if you've never heard the bone-chilling beauty
of Polynesian harmonies, then do yourself a favor and find Tina ASAP.  Her
daughter was a premier dancer among the spectacular troupe; I was so taken by
her dancing, particularly the mind-blowing, Tahitian duck walk, that I completely
forgot to capture it on video.

We had such a great time at Hong Kong Inn; by the end of the evening, all typical restaurant protocol was broken as we chatted, mixed, mingled, and table-hopped.  Hong Kong Inn's Polynesian review had all the luxury of a lavish luau and all the honest charm of a homespun hukilau.

Mahalo, Mauru'uru, and Fa'afetai, and Xie Xie to Kealoha & Co. and Hong Kong Inn!!! 

If you have a taste for tiki, if you want for wacky tacky, if you long for old Hong Kong, be sure to make your way to Hong Kong Inn.  Go for the chow mein, stay for the ALOHA!!!

Hong Kong Inn
435 E Thompson Blvd
Ventura, CA
(805)648-3161

hongkonginnonline.com

*The Polynesian Review is only performed on Friday and Saturday nights from 7:30-9:30PM (early arrival is highly recommended)


Cheers and Talofa!

Mr. Tiny

Sew What?! Sarong That It's Right

As is the case with most home-garment-construction workers (a new phrase I've coined to make my chosen hobby sound more masculine and avoid the easily misread, "sewer"), I go through periods of inspirational and motivational drought.  Months will pass before I realize that beyond some minor mending, I haven't sewn a single stitch.

As it inevitably does, the pendulum has a way of swinging back to the opposite extreme and I find myself chained to my trusty Bernina, forgoing wild nights in the pursuit of wild, wacky tacky wear.  I often refer to my sewing area as "Mr. Tiny's workshop;" when it more closely resembles "Mr. Tiny's Sweatshop," however, I begin to sympathize with Betty Hutton.

"The Sewing Machine" - Betty Hutton in
The Perils of Pauline (1947)

Currently in the midst of a sewing binge, I am doing my best to cut through the huge stash of fabric that I have been amassing.  For years I have been successfully whittling away at the yards and yards and yards and yards of a particular Marimekko print that I happened to buy at very deep discount in every available colorway.  The 1960 print from the Finnish manufacturer is called "Tulipunainen" which, according to a very perfunctory Google search, translates to "vermilion" - although one shouldn't expect an accurate representation of color here because every picture I upload seems to change color drastically.

Even though it is of decidedly-Scandinavian origin, I can't help but get a tropical inspiration every time I see this print; I like to think of Tulipunainen as the Thor Heyerdahl of the fabric world.

Heyerdahl was Norwegian and Marimekko is Finnish
but come hell AND high water, both managed to find
the South Pacific somehow.

With all the boldness of one of 20th-Century tiki's founding fathers, I set out on my own polynesian adventure to discover if I could create a two-piece semi-sarong(ish) outfit for Mary.

Mary has encouraged me to include a sketch with all
of my "Sew What?!" posts.  I'm a little shy about sharing
my drawings so we'll see how long this lasts.

 While technically not a sarong (the skirt does not wrap, the front panel is just a large drape), Mary felt it wasn't so-wrong and decided to wear it mere moments after I finished sewing on the last button.

Dorothy Lamour this ain't but
it's sarong that it's right, right?

She wore it to up her wild ante while performing at a Wild Records show;
I'm thinking she should be the poster child for their offshoot label - Mild Records.

All of our favorite photographer friends were in attendance
but nobody brought a proper camera.  I don't blame them
but I sure was hoping I wouldn't have to rely on my
meager point-and-shoot-and-pray technique.

Do you sew?  Have you been stuck at your sewing machine lately?  Have you ever made a sarong-style outfit?  Does this Finnish fabric have you singing Aloha 'Oe?  Until the next time I get a break from my self-imposed sweatshop, I'll settle for that lilting, island melody as played on the electric organ.

"Aloha 'Oe"

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Giganticus Headicus: Why the Long Face?

My brother and I are Yugoslavian twins.  It's kind of like Irish (ravaged by civil unrest and ideologically divided) twins but born a little further apart (less than two years).  When we were young we couldn't go anywhere without people mistaking us for carbon copies of one another; yes, the word "twins" oft escaped the lips of these presumptuous people but behind their eyes I could see the same nagging thought, "obviously fraternal."

As the alpha twin, it is easy for me to recognize that there are a certain amount of similar features shared by all the children in my family - the most striking of these, perhaps, being our large heads.  My brother's head, however, was always especially giant.  Luckily, at this point in his life he has grown into it, but as a child he developed the dubious nickname, "Lemonhead."

Depending on the haircut he was sporting, my brother
could've easily been the model for the candy mascot.
(Source)

A recent adventure weekend landed us quite literally face-to-face with a rare specimen that left my brother's head looking, well...average.  

"Giganticus Headicus"

Giganticus Headicus is an enormous, green, cranial statue fashioned very much in the Easter Island tradition (chicken wire, cement, and green paint) that stands sentry along old Route 66 at Antares Point in Kingman, Arizona.  Standing in this mock-Moai's presence is very humbling - especially for folks whose already-oversized heads are further swollen with the pride of winning "big head" contests.

The wacky tacky adventure team - Mary, Jesse, Emily, Cynthia,
Nick, and Mr. Tiny (the last two being possible descendants
of Giganticus Headicus).

In the forecourt of the Kozy Korner Trailer Park, Giganticus Headicus reminds us exactly why we love road trips and exactly why we love the desert.  The desert's sweeping vistas and broad expanses offer a seemingly-endless landscape in which one can not only explore but create wacky tacky!

Mary and Jesse go in for the pick as Mr. Tiny basks in both the desert sun
and the knowledge that there are heads in existence that are blissfully
bigger than his own...and old Lemonhead's.

A product of Gregg Arnold's own head (figuratively speaking, of course), Giganticus Headicus is the tiki-themed centerpiece to a greater roadside experience.  Just one part of a large installation of desert art and roadside novelties, Giganticus Headicus is the reason to stop; the rare sight of Baby Rattlers is the reason to stay!

CAUTION!!!
Babies can be more dangerous than adults!

(Insert rim shot or sad trombone here) wah-wah...

If you find yourself along Route 66 in need of some kicks, be sure to stop by and compare noggins with old Giganticus Headicus - you'll feel positively puny!

Giganticus Headicus

Antares Point on Route 66

Walapai, AZ

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Sew What?! Barkcloth Betty

Even though it looks nothing like the iconic, blue halter dress that she wore every single day of her entire adult life, I was inspired by the essence of Betty Rubble when I found two-and-a-half yards of vintage, So-Fro Originals barkcloth at the thrift store.  So-Fro Originals was a mid-century fabric manufacturer that often employed well-known designers/artists, including Peter Max, to create over-the-top prints. 

My fabric featured a chocolate-brown field with
myriad geometric shapes in brilliant neon colors.

This primitive, So-Fro print had me envisioning something that Betty would have packed when she and Wilma finally ditched the boys for a well-deserved, girls-only, seaside vacation.

(Source)

With Betty in mind, I created a gathered tube top with detached puff sleeves and a matching skirt.  Because yardage was in short supply, I ditched the idea of intricate patterns and made everything out of a series of rectangles - easy!  Mary decided to pack the ensemble for our trip to Japan and busted it out for our exploration of Yoyogi Park and the Harajuku district of Tokyo.

Because these areas of Tokyo are well-known for the extreme fashions displayed by participants in Tokyo's many subcultures, Mary elected to turn things up a notch when styling the outfit.  She teased her hair within an inch of its life, adding an aqua scarf and two armfuls of colorful bangles; more than Betty Rubble, I think she was channeling Jill Scott from The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency (definitely recommended if you've never seen it).

Our friend, Kazumi, helped us check off a major item
on our Harajuku to-do list - "Purikura" or Print Club!

Print Club takes old-timey photo booths to a "whole 'nother level!"
A series of digital photos are taken, giving the subjects the
appearance of a flawless complexion and giant, anime eyes.
I'm pretty positive it shaves a couple pounds/kilos off too. 

We were so taken by the fun of Purikura that we went back the next day to take even more photos.  The fun doesn't end with a vaseline lens, magic-mirror airbrushing, and bugged-out eyes; users are offered a stylus and screen to add captions, stamps, make-up/eyelashes, frames, backgrounds, hats, glasses, and any number of things to distract from the hateful realities of one's actual appearance.

I call this one "Angry Angel Babies."

And this one, "Only Mother Could Be Loving" - translated directly from Japanese.

Sadly, neither of our trips to Harajuku resulted in hoards of fabulously-dressed, Japanese-wannabe-Gwen-Stefani-wannabes.  Believe it or not, we were the most oddly-dressed folks swimming decidedly against the current in a sea of modestly-dressed tourists looking for photo-ops of Harajuku Girls, Lolitas, and members of the Japanese Rockabilly Club.  I think all of the cool kids realized what a tourist trap this area was becoming and moved on to pastures greener.  Left stranded wearing neon barkcloth, teased hair, and hand-painted monster sweatshirts, we coined a new term for our wacky tacky Japanese looks - "Hara-cuckoo!!!"

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Million Monster March: The Anaheim Halloween Parade

Although it hasn't yet been made official, I'm pretty sure that we are honorary citizens of Anaheim, CA.  We are probably over thinking it, but out of sheer good taste and unqualified breeding, we're just waiting for the mayor's announcement that both a street and a day will be dedicated to Tiny & Mary before we send out the invitations to the ribbon cutting ceremony.

"Where's our key to the city, huh?!"

This could take a while...
(photo courtesy of Star Class Media)

We spend so much time with our Anaheim-resident friends that sometimes it feels like we live there - especially when it comes to Anaheim's big day to shine - The Anaheim Halloween Parade! 

Andy Anaheim, a character created nearly 60 years ago by
Disney artists, stepped off the parade with his rotating head,
functioning arms, and booming bass drum.

For months and months, our pals over at the Anaheim Historical Society have been planning, designing, and preparing for this year's parade.  While the parade has always been a rallying opportunity for the community and a real source of hometown charm, the recent past has seen the it dwindle into a cavalcade of local politicians and obscure beauty queens.  Great - and very successful - pains were taken this year to restore some of the thematic elements that make it the Anaheim Halloween Parade.

Just a sampling of the projects as they progressed
at the official parade headquarters.

If nothing else, I have a modicum of rhythm.  Obviously, marching in a parade would come so very much like a second nature to someone so rhythmically-blessed as myself, that I could easily miss the parade meetings and just jump right in at the last minute, right?  Right?!?!

It begins at sundown.

I quickly learned that marching in a parade is more than soliciting high-fives from the crowd; it is an art form!
There's definitely a trick to walking, waving, and wearing a mask (sans glasses) all at the same time!
(photo courtesy of Star Class Media)

We were in the old-timey section of the parade.
The positioning worked out perfectly as we were able to recycle last year's
costumes (after returning from Japan, time, energy, and funds were low).

This cat costume, worn by our pal, Norma,
was a hit with us and with the crowd!

The two-part, man-powered Haunted House had a wooden frame but the
rest of the structure was  - believe it or not - cardboard!
The artists behind these pieces are incredible.

Speaking of cardboard, this is another cardboard sculpture.
Reminiscent of the trees from The Forest of No Return in Babes in Toyland,
the amount of depth and texture achieved in this piece is mind blowing!
Once all of the lantern foliage was lit, it was spectacular!

Shriners rule the world!
The minicars and calliope/organ wagon are always a highlight!

I had a very, very small hand in bringing the
"Heebie Jeebie" to life, so small in fact, that
I shouldn't even mention it.  But I am nothing
if not one to take credit where credit isn't due!

The Jungle Cruise/Tiki contingent of the parade was
 among my favorite entries!  Dig that crazy mask!

There was so much more to the parade, but because I skipped, tripped, waddled marched this year, I depended on the kindness of friends for many of these photos.  If you are anywhere in the area, you are more than welcome to contribute and participate in next year's Anaheim Halloween Parade.  

Join the fun!!!
(photo courtesy of Star Class Media)

2014 will mark the parade's 90th year and it is sure to be a spectacle of unprecedented proportions; contact the Anaheim Halloween Parade website for more information.  For additional information on the history and redevelopment of Anaheim please visit the Anaheim Historical Society.  Preparations for next year's parade begin in January 2014.  Happy Halloween!

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny