My "Fans" on eBay, Part One (Updated)

Although I haven't put anything up for sale on eBay for at least a couple of years, there was a time when I had a lot of fun with it. Most of my item descriptions were pretty straightforward, but once in a while, especially around 2003 (for no particular reason), I got a little loopy... and something along the lines of what you generally find here on my blog ensued!

Believe it or not, two of my more off-beat listings received what I can only refer to as "fan letters." Here's one of those listings. My next post will feature a second example.

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1930s MOVIE STAR SCRAPBOOK Famous & Obscure

This is an incredible collection! Forty-seven pages of clippings, comprising at least seven years of Hollywood history (1931-1937 inclusive, from all indications)! Someone lovingly glued all this stuff on lined paper, then just-as-lovingly placed them in a 2-ring binder. They even took the time to use glued reinforcement stickers on all the little punch-holes! On both sides of the paper, even! Serious project, this!

There are some incredible full-page shots of Maureen O'Sullivan, Fredric March, Lillian Bond, an overwhelmingly sultry-looking Myrna Loy, Gilbert Roland, Robert Montgomery, Marion Marsh (see scan), Anita Page, an even younger Robert Montgomery, John Barrymore as "Svengali" in, well, "Svengali," Lupe Velez, Nazimova, June MacCloy, Loretta Young & Spencer Tracy in "A Man's Castle," John Boles, Norma Shearer, Marion Marsh, Pola Negri, Miriam Hopkins, and your favorite & mine, Alexander Kirkland (see third scan)! "Alexander Kirkland?" Uhhh, yeah, Alexander Kirkland. I never heard of him before I started going through this scrapbook, but he gets a whole darned page to himself. Who'da thunk it?

Oh, yeah, almost forgot: There's one more full-page photo. It's an absolutely gorgeous shot of Jean Harlow aping "Venus de Milo." (Sorry, I won't scan that one fer ya. Bid, baby, bid!) Ummm... okay... I didn't actually forget it... I was gonna scarf it for myself... Heck, you never would have known! But I didn't... because I'm honest... because I'm fair-minded... because I'm stupid...

[By the way, fellow babies, I'm gonna share something with you that the eBayers never got to see! Here's the scan of the Jean Harlow shot. I sold the scrapbook, but scanned Ms. Harlow -- and bled out the color to "reverse" the aged look of the scrapbook page -- for myself before I did so!]

 

So, what else? Some pages has... Oops, I mean, some pages have... (Starting to sound like Leo Gorcey, here!) gorgeous two-shots of such luminaries as Garbo, Bebe Daniels, and Vilma Banky. And admit it, you've always wanted to own a scrapbook with an entire page dedicated to Vilma Banky, haven't you? Come on now, 'fess up. Haven't you?

Rounding out the issue are one or more shots of the following (Deep breath, here): Toby Wing, Shirley Temple, Alice Faye, Rochelle Hudson (*sigh*), Billie Dove, Baby LeRoy, Johnnie Weissmuller, Dorothy Mackaill, Joan Blondell, Marion Davies, Leila Hyams, Peggy Shannon, Bette Davis (in a swimsuit, believe it or not!), Lilyan Tashman, Marlene Dietrich, Ben Lyon, Constance Cummings, Arline Judge, Jack Oakie, Douglas Fairbanks (Senior) & Mary Pickford, Helen Twelvetrees, a stunningly exotic-looking Claudette Colbert (see photo above, lower right -- but don't get your hopes up, guys, or haven't you heard...?), Dorothy Lee, Warner Baxter, Janet Gaynor, Jeanette MacDonald, George Brent, Ruth Chatterton, Ricardo Cortez, Hugh Herbert, Dickie Moore, Ann Harding, Dolores Del Rio, Joan Bennett, Mary Astor, Bert Wheeler, Jack Mulhall,Gary Cooper, Max Baer, Walter Huston, Sally Eilers, Flora Robson, Victor Jory, Mae West, Cary Grant, Jack La Rue, Ida Lupino, Virginia Cherrill, Jackie Cooper & his brother Bobby Cooper, Mae Clarke, Fred Astaire, Ginger Rogers, Alice White, Marion Shilling, Kaye Francis, Lyle Talbot, Rose Hobart, Constance Bennettt, Carole Lombard, Natalie Talmadge, Mary Brian, Kathleen Key, Betty Furness, Marjorie Rambeau, sultry Mary Duncan (I never heard of her before, and I am so sorry for that!), Tallulah Bankhead, Lee Tracy... *yawn*... Oh, darn, I really wanted to name everybody (Can't you tell?), but I'm beat! I'm about a dozen short of the whole list. Anybody else worth mentioning? Oh, yeah. Clark Gable.

Seriously, I wonder why people like Clark Gable, Fred Astaire, and Gary Cooper get one crummy little still here or there, while Alexander Kirkland gets a full page?!? What is up with that?!?

By the way, anybody who is really interested in Alexander Kirkland and his films should click here. (I tend to research things once my interest is aroused!) I know I learned a couple of interesting facts! Kirkland's third wife was Gypsy Rose Lee, but the child born during that marriage was actually fathered by director Otto Preminger!

And hey, kids, see that scan with the shadowed profile hovering expectantly over Anita Page? Guess who that is! "Valentino?" No, he was already dead. "John Barrymore?" Nope, wrong again. "William Powell?" Wrong again! "Rod La Rocque?" Nope, he didn't play "The Shadow" for a couple more years! Give up? It's Buster Keaton!

(Now, how'd I arrive at the page count? Well, the front cover of the binder has the cover from an old issue of Movie Classic glued to it. This cover features a Marland Stone painting of Ruby Keeler and a rather effeminate-looking Dick Powell (see scan). So I counted it. The back cover sports a 1937 Modern Screen cover (It's not dated, but I happen to own a copy of the original... ) featuring an Earl Christy painting of Olivia de Havilland... ummm... enjoying a peppermint stick (see scan... Lord, things seemed so much more innocent, then...). So I counted that. The inside front cover sports a large color photo of Anna Sten, and the inside back cover lists the addresses of  dozens of movie stars, whether said stars worked for major studios (Paramount, MGM, Universal, etc.) or were "free-lance players," like Harold Lloyd, Ralph Bellamy, Neil Hamilton (and this was years before the Batman TV show!), etc. So I counted both of those. Finally, the binder holds 22 pages of loose-leaf notebook paper, and all but one side has something on it!)

Last Chance!

Hmm. I ran this sucker for seven days with an opening bid of $24.99, and nobody bid. (Wahhh.) So this is it, folks: This time I'll run it as a five day auction with an opening bid of $14.99. If it doesn't sell this time, I'll grab the Jean Harlow page mentioned above for my own collection and burn the rest. No joke. 

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Well, fellow babies, as mentioned in my brief aside above, I didn't have to burn the thing. It sold for about $30, if I recall correctly.

I received a few emails from fellow eBayers, as I mentioned. Here are quotes from two of them:

~~"I don't have a question. I just want to compliment you on your auction. I thoroughly enjoyed reading through it. Your comments about Alexander Kirkland cracked me up! It's not often that I get to read something so enjoyable. Thanks and I hope you do well on this auction."

~~"Hmmm, it's spectacularly detailed, grammatically correct, and there's that delightful hint of being off color without possibly offending the severely conservative. Even more disturbing than that rather suggestive peppermint stick illustration (someone passed their casting couch audition with flying colors!), is that the name Alexander Kirkland was ringing a dim bell. I plead guilty to reading the autobiographies of Eric Lee Preminger and Gypsy Rose Lee. It's nice to meet you. I'll keep an eye out for your future auctions."

Today's post was for Subby... kinda. Part Two will be for Betsy... again, kinda.

 Thanks for your time.

No Rant TODAY!

I don't know about you, but I'm in a pretty good mood this morning (for a change).

Nearly ten years ago, we said "Never Forget." And we didn't.

This is not just a victory for President Obama, or for former President Bush, or even for the USA. (And let's not try to take credit from anyone, okay? Let's give credit to all!) This is a victory for the entire planet.

To quote the Council on American-Islamic Relations, “As we have stated repeatedly since the 9/11 terror attacks, Bin Laden never represented Muslims or Islam... In fact, in addition to the killing of thousands of Americans, he and Al Qaeda caused the deaths of countless Muslims worldwide.”

I have dear friends who are Muslims. Equating those of Bin Laden's ilk with them is like equating me with Hitler, because he was, and I am, white Christian males. Just sayin'.

Adios, Osama. You will not be missed. Not by me, anyway... or any rational human.

Thanks for your time.

David'Z RantZ ~~ Oh, Puh-LEEZE! (STILL Not the One You've Been Waiting For!)

Here I was, blissfully thinking that Donald Trump was the number one candidate -- please pardon the expression -- for the title of "Idiot of the Week" -- month? millennium? -- but someone had to prove me wrong!

In case you haven't read this (yet) elsewhere... According to the new Journal of Animal Ethics, which is the result of a US/UK "academic partnership," terms like -- and take a deep breath, here -- "pet," "critter," "beast," "wildlife," "pests," "vermin," and "owner" (the latter referring to us humans, of course) should be discarded, because they're insulting, demeaning, insensitive, derogatory, etc. (Here is only one brief article elaborating on this editorial, and here's a press release.)

Some quotes (in italics) or points from the editorial:

Our existing language about animals is the language of past thought – and the crucial point is that the past is littered with derogatory terminology: “brutes”, “beasts”, “bestial”, “critters”, “sub-humans”, and the like.

We shall not be able to think clearly unless we discipline ourselves to use less than partial adjectives in our exploration of animals and our moral relations with them.

They suggest that what we now call "pets" should hereafter be referred to as “companion animals.” "Owners" should be called “human carers” instead.

Despite its prevalence, “pets” is surely a derogatory term both of the animals concerned and their human carers. Again the word “owners”, whilst technically correct in law, harks back to a previous age when animals were regarded as just that: property, machines or things to use without moral constraint.

In addition, we invite authors to use the words “free-living”, “free-ranging” or “free-roaming” rather than “wild animals”… For most, “wildness” is synonymous with uncivilized, unrestrained, barbarous existence. There is an obvious prejudgment here that should be avoided.

They also suggest retiring phrases like “sly as a fox, “eat like a pig,” and “drunk as a skunk.” These are all "unfair" to animals!

*sigh* Where, oh where, do I begin...?

Frankly, my first reaction to reading about this editorial was that it was a load of bullsh--

(Oh, wait, I should probably re-phrase that thought, so as not to offend any that are of the... errr... Bovine-American persuasion!)

My first reaction to reading about this editorial was that it was a load of ca-ca... regardless of the species from which said "ca-ca" originated, of course.

Now, don't get me wrong. I love animals. Generally, I like 'em better than people... not that I'm a big fan of humans anyway, as you regular readers may have surmised. Having said that...

Come on.

So, we can't call 'em "pets" any more? Damn. I suppose this means that the Petco chain will soon be going the route of the Sambo's restaurant franchise...

As far as the "ownership" thing, the whole concept of property is admittedly vague, as it concerns a living thing. My cat, Orson, is... well... my cat. I do own him. (Well, as much as anyone can own a cat. They kinda own us, wouldn't you agree?) But referring to a desk, a parakeet, or even a spouse as "yours" doesn't automatically place that thing or person in an inferior position to yourself, does it? (Then again, I don't know your spouse... But I digress.)

And "wild" is a bad word, they claim, because it implies that our friends in the animal kingdom are -- horrors! -- uncivilized? Can't have that. On the other hand, how civilized would you think I was if I were to urinate on a tree and/or crap on your lawn, then stand outside your door screaming gibberish until you let me in, and then ran in (naked, of course), demanding to be fed from my own dish as well as anyone else's whose food I could steal, then slept on your clean laundry, or kitchen counter-top, or anywhere else I could get away with sleeping, and then...

Oh, you get the point? Good. Just be glad I didn't mention licking myself, nuzzling your crotch (or a guest's), or humping your leg!

(Yeah. Just be glad I didn't mention all of that!)

And of course, we want to purge our daily discourse of all those horribly negative animal stereotypes. "Drunk as a skunk?" Yep, every time I hear that, I certainly think it's accurate, and that all skunks are lushes... and as a result, I judge the little stinkers accordingly. Well, don't you?

On the other hand, for some strange reason I kinda like the term "sly as a fox." Go figure.

Insensitivity toward any living creature is a terrible thing, of course... but there's also an uncomfortable point where we can become too damned sensitive. And that refers to our attitudes about people and pets alike, I daresay.

Hm. When will one of my readers attack me for referring to you all as "fellow babies?" (Ah, to hell with it. I'll just blame Dr. Johnny Fever.)

Actually, I first heard the term "companion animal" over fifteen years ago! It was probably originated by someone at PETA, a well-meaning group which tends to take things much too far at times. (Anyone remember their "sea kittens" campaign?) At the time, my fiancée -- Number Two in a series, collect 'em all! -- owned a cat named Max. My reaction was "Oh, great. Do I have to start referring to Max as a Feline-American companion animal?"

Only a few weeks later, on the then-new TV show Politically Incorrect, Bill Maher jokingly referred to his dog as a "Canine-American." I should have sued. But, once again, I digress.

Anyway, if you really want me to start thinking of a dog, an iguana, or a freakin' goldfish as my personal equal and/or roommate, I say: Let the lazy little "companion animal" go out, get a freakin' job, and start helping with the rent.

But that's just me. I'm  a different kind of cat.

Oops. I'd better retire that expression, too, I guess!

I tried to be fair when I wrote this post. I really did! In fact, I even asked my cat Orson what he thought of the whole controversy. Not so surprisingly, he didn't even dignify the issue with an answer! Of course, if he had said anything, I suspect it would have been somewhere along the lines of "Who cares? Feed me."

In closing, here's an aside to those of you who are still holding on to your Pet Rock from the 1970s: Henceforth, you will be required to refer to this nostalgic keepsake as your "companion mineral." Just sayin'.

Thanks for your time... companion babies.

Bird, Incognito (A "Twitter for Gentlefolk" Post)

(Note for readers of my next post: Now this kind of "p.c.," I like!)

Continuing the relatively new "Twitter for Gentlefolk" tradition recently announced by that troublemaker fine fellow Alan Burnett of News from Nowhere fame, my friend Betsy (author of the My Five Men blog) and myself decided to do a "postcard swap." And rather than choosing an appropriate card for me, Betsy decided to create one. The outstanding result is shown above, and the "text side" follows:

In case you can't read that, it says:

Hi, Silver!

Since you love all things masks, capes, and superheros, I thought I'd sketch you a superhero-looking bird! This is a Cedar Waxwing. They love to eat my crabapples! Their name comes from the red waxy drips that form on the tips of their wing feathers. [Looks more like blood to The Silver Fox's eyes, but that's just me, I'm a different kinda cat!] Pretty cool, huh? Although to Orson, I'm sure he just looks like dinner! [For those of you who don't really pay attention when you read my blog, Orson is my cat!]

Betsy

Once a week, Betsy treats her readers to a new sketch or other creative work on her blog. More commenters than I can count have suggested to her that she utilize her underrated (by Betsy herself, that is) talents to illustrate greeting cards, children's books, or something similar.

Well, Betsy, The Silver Fox hereby issues a very public challenge: I'll write a children's book, if you'll illustrate it. It should be a lot less intimidating than your trying to write that proposed autobiography people keep nagging urging you to do, right?

After all, it's not like Skip Simpson has me signed to an exclusive collaborative writing contract, ya know?

(Can't wait for the private email about the above!)

Thanks for your time.

David'Z RantZ ~~ Two Reasons I Don't Sleep Well at Night (and No, This Is NOT the One You've Been Waiting For!)

Two Reasons I Don't Sleep Well at Night (and don't piss me off, or I'll make this a freakin' series):

1. People keep writing "lightening" when they mean to write "lightning." You can lighten your hair. After sunrise, the sky gradually "lightens." Lightning is that flash you see in the sky before you hear the thunder. (Or "lightning" could also apply to at least two great blues musicians. But I digress.)

2. "Peak" and "peek" are not interchangeable. (And don't even get me started on "pique.") No, really. Your computer's spell-checker is not a blasted mind-reader, so please learn the difference before you use either. 

By the way, the illustration above is of lightning striking a mountain peak. Maybe you don't care, but I impressed the hell out of myself finding that one. Just sayin'.

Thanks for your time.

And You Think I'M Extreme?

Today's post is a prequel of sorts to a much longer, uncharacteristically political post I'll be posting sometime in the (probably) near future. You've been warned, fellow babies!

"In this state... in this state, dig it, you get... uhhh... you get twenty years for sale of dope to a minor. Uhhh... You only get five to ten for manslaughter. [laughs] So, like, the thing is, if you're sellin' to a kid, right, and the cops come, shoot the kid real quick!" ~~ Abbie Hoffman, from the "Wake Up, America" LP, 1970

It only gets weirder from here.

Thanks for your time.

"And All Before Breakfast" (Special Guest Post!)

Hey, there, cats'n'kitties! This is the great and powerful Orson, the cat! The Silver Fox is busy workin' on scriptin' a second Poe-inspired story for his partner, Skip Simpson, to draw... so he decided to let me have a hand... errr, a paw... at writin' one of his blog posts!

(And lest a certain rhymin' cat think I'm stealin' his act, I gotta point out -- well, in the sense that a cat can "point" -- that I've been featured prominently on this blog and the David'Z RantZ blog a few times before... most notably here and here!)

This time, I'm gonna showcase my own writin' skills, such as they are. If you like my little story, feel free to send canned cat food, or at the very least, discount coupons for some. Better yet, I prefer people food. I love chicken, and since the Selfish Silver Fox almost never shares pork, ham, sausage, etc. with me, any "flesh of the pig" will do nicely!

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AND ALL BEFORE BREAKFAST

The town was so small, its S.W.A.T. team consisted of only two men, named Marky and Mikey. The uniformed duo had been on the trail of a killer since before dawn. It was still early morning.

They'd chased their quarry, a man with a rifle, to the local zoo. They knew they were on the right path when they saw the corpse of a large white rabbit only a few feet from the zoo's entrance. The rabbit had been slain by a single shot from the killer's rifle.

At first, the killer had gotten a pretty good lead on them, but he kept slowing down to shoot at the caged animals. He'd already killed a neotropical bird, a cuckoo, and a docile bear that the zoo's patrons had always described as "sweet."

Now the killer had been backed up against a large cage that enclosed a man-made cave. He scaled its bars nimbly, and prepared to jump in, hoping to hide from the policemen in the cave. As he perched atop the sturdy fence, however, an ominous growl came from the cave. The growl heralded the appearance of a ferocious tiger. Thoughts of escape were discarded as the killer smiled grimly, and aimed his rifle at the snarling beast.

"Don't move!" yelled Mikey. The killer turned back toward the voice, noticing that the other man, Marky, was perched in a nearby tree. Both officers held rifles similar to the killer's own. Frantic and trapped, he wondered which policeman was more of a danger to him.

Making his decision, the killer whirled and pointed his rifle at Marky. Before he could fire, Mikey coldly squeezed the trigger of his own weapon. One shot was sufficient. The killer fell, lifeless, into the cage... where the hungry tiger seemed to smile as he welcomed his latest meal.

As Marky dropped from the tree and joined his partner outside of the tiger's cage, a zoo-keeper rushed up to them. "Thank God you stopped him! What a lunatic! Running through our zoo, scaring customers, randomly killing our exhibits..."

Marky smiled grimly. "Randomly? Hardly. His victims all had one thing in common, as did the two murdered humans which set us on his trail to begin with!"

"Two humans?" echoed the zoo-keeper.

"Uh-huh," said Mikey. "A little old Irish guy, and a retired sea captain."

"But they weren't just any arbitrary targets," explained Marky. "The captain was none other than Cap'n Crunch, and the Irish guy was named Lucky! He'd led a charmed life, until today. And the animals? The Trix Rabbit was lying dead outside the gate, and this maniac dispatched Toucan Sam, Sonny the Cuckoo Bird, and the Sugar Bear before we caught up to him. Luckily, we managed to save old Tony, here," Marky finished, gesturing fondly toward the feasting tiger.

"Good Lord!" gasped the zoo-keeper. "You mean, this wacko was...?"

"That's right," said Marky. "He was a cereal killer!"

Marky, years before joining the force!

The zoo-keeper stared at Mikey. "No wonder you were able to take him out so dispassionately!"

"No surprise there," Marky said teasingly. "Mikey hates everything!"

Mikey shook his head. He joked, "Maybe, maybe not... But as for my result this time?" He smiled, and looked at what was now left of the killer. "I like it!"

Marky grinned at the zoo-keeper. "He likes it! Hey, Mikey!"

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Thanks for your food, fellow kitties!

The Silver Fox: It's "time," not "food," you fat fur-ball! "Thanks for your time!"

Orson: Ahhh, shuddup! And just be glad I didn't have the nut-job in my story shoot a fox, awright?!?