Forest for the Trees

Finally, a post featuring some young wood for a change.

These “volunteers” sprouted in a caustic soda waste dump in Minneapolis, circa 1971. The plant that produced that toxic sludge is in the background, the trees were thriving despite the hellish landscape.

Nice Things Not Made Anymore

Door knob and plate, Minneapolis Court House, Circa 1888:

Milwaukee transit passes (1945-1966):

Harley-Davidson Dealer sign, circa 1935:

Upholstery for 1917 Ford Model T sedan door:

Eastlake furniture design elements, circa 1885:

20 Years Ago on FITK

The Upsetters



In the fall of 1966, America was on the verge of social turmoil. Race riots had occurred and would continue. The war in Vietnam was about to escalate. And in a humble basement in North Minneapolis, some nerdy teen-aged boys were trying to be a rock band. We had played around quite a bit (as far as our folks would let us) and were making some progress in our “career.” The upcoming homecoming show at our high school was a chance to strut our stuff and basically behave like juvenile apes, who will make a racket to impress the females of the colony.

Into this bucolic scene came the appropriately named “Upsetters.” The Upsetters were a vocal group that needed a band to back them. This was cool with us, but there were a few sticking points:

#1. They could really sing. They were going to make us look pretty foolish in that regard - Okay, we could do an instrumental for our song.

#2. They were girls. Okay, we liked girls (even if we only had a few clues as to what THAT was all about.)

#3. They were black. Not so okay.

Where we grew up had always been integrated, to some imperfect degree, it was all we had known since childhood, but we also knew that some kinds of integration were off-limits (“There's nothing wrong with it but these things never work out… ”) and this collaboration might be a little touchy with some folks. Our parents were, at least outwardly, supportive, and our rehearsals went smoothly.

When the homecoming show was held, our little combo played first, and got a nice response. Then the girls came out. They were tres chic: dressed in satin, and from the moment the lead singer began "My love is a like HEAT WAVE, burnin’ in my heart" the atmosphere in the auditorium became electric. We were now tapping into something different—a volatile mix of emotions that until now had slumbered within us.

That was then.

Now, in many parts of America, it seems that the climate has changed for the worst, with venal politicians and their paid media spokesmen decrying “diversity” and demonizing “social programs” and “liberal agendas.” All I know is that, for those three minutes in 1966, we had something great, and that fact will never change.

Thank you, Susan, Linda, Cookie and Ella.

Eastlake Pediments

More old wood from my disassembled Victorian fainting couch…

Pediments in furniture refer to a decorative element (crown) on top of a piece, similar in style to an architectual pediment topping a classical building.

I’ve re-purposed three of these, incorporating them into exisiting furniture I already had.

While my long-term judgement on their suitability remains to be seen, I enjoy the simple-yet-artful grace notes added onto these hand-crafted pieces from over 120 years ago:

Old Wood

I recently acquired some “old wood.” It was the backboard of a Victorian fainting couch. The couch itself had been destroyed and disposed of but much of the frame remained. These were secondary woods (possibly alder) and had been hidden by the upholstery. The patent notice on one of the boards (above) was for January 23d, 1877, meaning that the wood had most likely been taken from a tree that was planted around 1800! The board was still sound; I repurposed it into a shelf for my woodworking tools:

Of course, this wood isn’t really rare, I live in a house that is mostly made from wood of that era. Still, I find it rewarding that old wood can find a new use after one hundred fifty years. The other boards in the fainting couch that weren’t covered with upholstery were walnut, inscribed in the Eastlake-style. I’ll be posting more about that old wood in the coming days.

20 Years Ago on FITK

John-John Slept Here



A block from Lake Superior in Bayfield, Wisconsin, is Greunke’s First Street Inn.

It has been there for nearly 140 years, and has always been an inn. The floors on the second levels sag about 4 inches from the outside wall to the central hall. It has evidently been redecorated, but not really remodeled. On the first floor is a dining room, festooned with memorabilia and old photos. One framed collage tells the story of the time about ten years ago when John Kennedy Jr. stayed here. The newspaper clipping tells the story, but there are no photos of John Jr.. The owner stated in the collage that they thought John would appreciate being treated like anyone else. I mused on this a while, and started to think about all of the people who stayed here, for whatever reasons, over the years.

Bayfield was a fishing town and a farming center. Now it is a vacation destination for sailors and kayakers. I had been here about twenty years ago, in my show biz days. The harbor had changed, a lot of pricey condos and time-shares had gone up, and the marina had expanded, but Greunke’s has remained the same. A funky boarding house-style inn: showers, sinks and toilets down the hall. A place stuck in a pleasant time warp. My reverie ended and I looked at the collage again. Right next to the cover of Newsweek with John's face on it was his signed guest register receipt.

Room Six.

My room.

Was that a good omen or ill?

Ghost World

Pictures of places
Where you used to live
Time gone by
Memories give

A ghost town now
Silent and bare
Once was a community
Life everywhere

Ghost world we see
Past lives and dreams
Faded away
In still-framed scenes

When I moved in
Not much was left
Whispers of laughter
Echo of breath

History's shadow
In every stone
Where life once thrived
Now overgrown

Stories untold
Of days gone before
A vibrant world
Behind each door

Ghost world we see
Past lives and dreams
Faded away
In still-framed scenes

Concept and Imagery: Stephen Cowdery
Story: https://flippistarchives.blogspot.com/search?q=north+fifth+street
Music: Suno