JB's Warehouse & Curio Emporium

There's a local reading series called Grownups Read Things They Wrote As Kids that allows people to do just that: expose to the public odd pieces they wrote during their formative years. I haven't attended one, but the concept inspired me to dig through the storage tub of early literary masterpieces back home. Among the goodies I found was a script written around grade 2, Zama's Talking Bird . Memory serves that this was a group assignment meant to follow up a story in one of our Gage readers. The play is credited to three writers but I suspect I devised most of it, since its structure and narrative pattern resembles other works from the same period...unless I absorbed the thoughts and writing rhythms of peers. Revisiting my early writing, the more I'm convinced that: My imagination was healthy I was aware of what certain type layouts should look like (plays contain acts, etc) Warner Brothers cartoons were my formative creative influence My destiny should ha

From the mid-1980s, a cranky, talking, slightly creepy oil furnace from a series of Ontario Hydro ads. The furnace's face was plastered on billboards in Leaside during my last childhood visits to Toronto before my grandmother moved to A'burg. I don't recall this campaign having much, if any, presence around Windsor and Essex County. The furnace in a less malevolent mood.

Tired of making the same old poultry-based appetizer when the gang come over? Take some advice from Janet Evans' Personal Cookbook from the pages of Canadian Homes and Gardens (1956) and "take time to decorate a chicken salad." The secret? Stiff mayo icing! French Clock Chicken Salad To serve 10 or 12 people, you will need: 4 cups cut-up chicken, 3/4 cup blanched slivered almonds, 2 cups finely chopped onion, 2 cups chopped pineapple, 3/4 cup mayonnaise, 1/3 cup thin cream, 1 teaspoon salt, 1 teaspoon celery salt and 1 teaspoon paprika. Mix cream and mayonnaise together. Put all ingredients together in a bowl and stir together well. Place salad in the serving bowl. Press it down smoothly. Ice it all over the top with stiff mayonnaise. Hard-boil 6 small eggs. Cut them in half. Use small thin slivers of green peppers to put the hours from 1 to 12 in Roman numerals, one on the yolk of each half egg. Put eggs in order around your clock salad. In centre of the clock, p

Source: Marvel Super-Heroes #33, November 1972 "But Jim, I cause a lot of accidents. Will Universal help potential employers overlook that?" "Ted, your experience and in-depth knowledge of what happens in an accident should land you a job in no time. As I said, the field is booming!" *** Marvel Super-Heroes was one of the backbones of Marvel's reprint lineup in the 1970s. Carrying on the numbering of Fantasy Masterpieces when its first issue (#12) appeared in 1967, the title began as a double-sized comic consisting of new tryout stories a la DC's Showcase backed with Golden Age superhero reprints. Both elements vanished by issue 21, to be replaced by various reprints until the series settled down to a normal-sized republishing of 1960s Hulk and Sub-Mariner tales. The Hulk Must Die! (story: Stan Lee, art Bill Everett over Jack Kirby layouts) originally appeared in Tales to Astonish #78 , April 1966. This tale marked a couple of turning points

Click ad to view a larger version World War II. With many staples of life like meat being rationed, consumers were encouraged to make the most of their allotments and stretch them to their limits. Magazines were filled with advice from manufacturers on how to sensibly use their products to leave enough for the boys overseas. Once you cut through the wartime propaganda, words of wisdom from real or fictional home economists ring true even without the ration coupons. A moment of silence for all cuts of meat that succumbed to freezer burn. Martha Logan appears to have been as real a person as Betty Crocker . The name used for tips and publications from Swift's home economics department through the 1960s. Stay tuned for more tips from Martha in the future. Source: National Home Monthly , November 1943

Last year, my family went on its first long-distance roadtrip in years. We easily survived a week together in Ottawa, so I set my sights on a more ambitious trip this summer. I often daydreamed about a trip along the Mississippi and through the upper South to visit landmarks in the history of popular music - the blues of the Delta, rock and soul in Memphis, country in Nashville. Since none of us had ventured through these areas, I was able to convince Mom and Amy to join in the adventure. We packed up the official Warehouse Transport Vehicle on the first Saturday of August and began our southern journey. *** Our first stop was Shipshewanna , located in the heart of northern Indiana's Amish area. Mom used to visit frequently with her Detroit-area cousins to check out crafts and a giant midweek flea market. As is usual with such towns one of the main obstacles for pedestrians is dodging the horse flop. We ate lunch at the Blue Gate , which had expanded since Mom'

When you have an ugly home to dispose of, call God. A hillbilly representative will be sent to your home to estimate how much compensation your dilapidated/outdated home merits and provide the Lord's promise that your next dwelling will be more attractive. I shot this photo while driving down south along Schaefer in Detroit, somewhere between 7 Mile and Fenkell. The "We Buy Ugly Houses" billboard cropped up several times during a Labour Day weekend drive around the Motor City.

Driving along Front Road south of Amherstburg usually means catching glimpses of pleasure craft and tankers sailing the Detroit River and a picturesque view of the Fermi 2 nuclear plant . Marauding Viking ships are a rarer sight. The people in the pleasure craft had no inkling of the fiery fate that would be theirs within minutes. The Coast Guard was in full pursuit and managed to corral the raiding party before further damage was inflicted on innocent civilians. Photos taken on August 9 or 10, 2008 

The Chatham-Kent stretch of 401 is one of the most heavily-policed stretches of the highway. A flat landscape and lack of visual distractions make it ripe territory for leadfootitis (though I have never been stopped along this stretch). Even the overpasses bear the mark of the OPP, through a number of bridges named after fallen officers. The heavy OPP presence comes in handy when things go wrong with your vehicle, as I experienced while driving down to Amherstburg Friday night. Fog settled in west of London but my fellow drivers took note of the conditions and drove carefully. Around Ridgetown I felt the back tires sliding a bit, which I initially chalked up to moisture on the road. Just as I passed the exit for Highway 40, the sluggish ride turned into a bumpy one. Hello flat tire. I noticed flashing police lights on the horizon. I tried to drive on the shoulder towards them, until the thumping grew too loud. I quickly realized I had left my cell phone in Toronto, so I figured I