Category: Uncategorized

The International Museum of World War II – South Kingstown Rhode Island

My companion’s interest in military history is not one I share and if I am to be brutally honest this is not a destination I would have chosen on my own. Though I respect that WWII happened I didn’t really feel like spending an afternoon reminding myself what shitheads the human race can be especially when my faith in it has already been floundering. But sometimes you just take one for the team… and end up pleasantly surprised.

When we drove up there was a sign for a cobbler sharing the window with the museum entrence posters. My companion looked at me and inquired, “Is this going to be another Titanic Museum, tucked away in the back room behind a shop?” There was only one way to find out.

Inside we were immediately welcomed by multiple staff members (i.e. this place wasn’t run by some lone weirdo out of his basement, which is sorta what I was expecting…) Apparently this place was actually run by a bunch of documentarians who had done a crap-ton of documentaries on various subjects relating to World War II. Some of them were playing as we walked through, others were being offered on a free DVD for patronizing the museum. We were asked if we wanted a guide and we said that was alright, we can poke around by our lonesome. We were then led through the screamy machine (otherwise known as a metal detector.) Not 100% sure if that was to prevent nutjobs from bringing in weapons or sneaking out with them… either way I was only armed with a purse with a metal zipper and had no desire whatsoever to cuddle a grenade within it.

This is when we were met with an army of mannikins, all dressed in various uniforms from the era representing different countries. As I looked closer I noticed some of the mannikins had fake eye lashes on them and one had a Sharpie doodled mustache that was supposed to look like Clarke Gable. I couldn’t contain my snicker at this and of course that’s when a teenage boy appeared, asking us if we’d like a guide. At first we politely declined but then he told us he could “set some things off” if we wanted, a phrase that wasn’t in any way alarming. With raised eye brows and no sense of personal safety we relented and let the teenage boy bring out a big noise maker which he wound until it whirred and screamed. Cool.

I may have wandered off at this point to do some subtle poking on my own. I found a small collection of photos that were the aftermath of the Holocaust. Just stacks of emaciated dead bodies. Honestly, I was expecting more of these soul-crushing images but instead I was met more with a gentle curiosity as in the same area there was a display of folk art made by concentration camp prisoners. For me this is where the connection is, where you find the humanity in the clouds of cruelty. I wandered back to my companion and the guide boy just as he was pointing out Blondie the German Shepard’s diamond swastika bedazzled collar. She belonged to Hitler. I wondered what she did in a previous life to deserve that. “So we’re sending you back to earth as man’s best friend.” “Awesome!” “And your man will be Hitler.” “Seriously?!” As you can see I have taken it upon myself to be ahead of the censors and cover all the swastikas here on out with a begrudgingly AI created poodle because despite having drawn a weekly comic for two and a half years I apparently have forgotten everything I ever learned about how to operate illustration software. SIGH.

After this we wandered with our youthful guide through various rooms with him handing us various grenades, shells, and other implements of war. Eventually we stopped by a mannikin of a Romanian woman in “camouflage” which looked remarkably similar to a floral bedspread. I joked to my companion, with my usual deadpan expression, “It’s not working.” This completely threw our poor guide off as he squeaked, “Why would you say that?” “because I can still see her… I was being silly…” At this point our guide started breathing again and apologized saying he’s autistic and sometimes doesn’t get jokes. I should have probably said it’s OK, I’m also autistic and remember very much what it was like being your age and constantly confused but I didn’t. I just smiled. That’s really all the spoons I had at that moment.

After this our guide got to talking about all sorts of things completely unrelated – horror movies, Disney rides, zombies. Apparently we’d gained his trust. And when we got back on track? Well, that’s when things kinda devolved a bit. First we noticed a heinously racist poster and read it… it was a grotesquely caracturized Japanese man thanking the US troops for not wearing condoms and spreading VD. I guess our guide boy, who had been familiar with most things here, had never looked that hard at this really messed up piece of satire. Honestly, the most racist relics I’ve ever come across on our travels always tend to be anti-Japanese propaganda from WWII. Our boy stuttered a bit as I just commented it was almost as uncomfortable to look as the Donald Duck reel telling soldiers about the horrors of venereal disease.

This wouldn’t be the first or the last time we gave our guide a run for his money. In another room he showed us plastic leeches and snakes hanging off one jungle-beaten manniken but I saw something more interesting peering down at us from a case above my head: a little brick-a-brac of a gleeful infant riding a bomb. “Why is there a baby riding a bomb?” “What? Oh my god, I never noticed that before. What does it say on it?” I looked back at my photo. It read, “Hatched in the USA.” This did not make it any better. More nervous laughter.

Then things really toppled into the weird as we found a case befitting a collection from the Shame Wizard. I’d always though that Nazi dildos were a joke. Nope… here we were face to face with a distressingly wooden dildo with Hitler’s face carved into it. Guess there’s something for everyone here I muttered under my breath. Personally, I couldn’t figure out if the obscene shape of it was more offensive or the fact it could give you splinters. Maybe you’d deserve splinters for that one, I don’t know. I couldn’t help but think about that one manniken in a SS uniform with this crazy shocked expression on his face. I feel like he knew.

And onward we continued to a whole corner of anti-Hitler folk art and propaganda. Really odd things over there, including a little Hitler manniken that our guide boy said no one knew much about but he supposed it was broken because the hand on it was not in the correct position for the Nazi salute it was attempting. This is where us oldies started to feel a bit bad because we couldn’t not tell this poor boy that no, this doll was not broken. It was giving a limp-wristed salute quite purposely. “Oooooh! Like he’s… gay?! I did NOT know that!” Course, then my companion couldn’t help pointing out the pin cushion shaped like Hitler bending over with pins jutting out of his ass. I sighed as the guide boy had another epiphany. This train was thoroughly derailed. And never have I felt older or queerer than in this moment. But I suppose there are worse things.

After this we cycled through on our own again noting different things other than the artillery we got to handle with our guide. I really appreciated a cute little summer dress apparently made by a French woman out of a food supplies parachute. One point for resourceful upcycling. And so we concluded our tour.

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Main Street Arts and Antiques, Glouster Massachusetts

When in Rome (or Glouster) you might as well hit an antique store or two. This one was a typical Main Street antique store – small, well organized, suited particularly for tourists wandering by.

This was one was a bit unique in all the posters and vinyls of musicals. Otherwise there was a jewelry case with some nice shinies in it, the usual bricabracs, a few ransom pieces of art including a bag crochetted from recycled grocery store bags, a terrifying portrait of a cat, and some wooden masks.

It was small but enjoyable, a fun jaunt if you’re already gambling down Main Street.

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Cynthia Curtis Pottery, Rockport Massachusetts

So after checking out The Paper House we wandered a few houses down the street to see what Cynthia Curtis Pottery was all about. Again, we drove up to a random house and parked in the small parking area at the bottom of the driveway. We got out having no idea where to go from there. That’s when a woman hopped out of the house and said the shed was open and she’d be out in a moment.

So inside we went. There were lovely big mugs hanging on the door and inside the shed there was all sorts of gorgeous very stylized pottery. Much of it had texture, which I’d later learn were imprints of her grandmother’s lace. It was mostly in blues and greens and gave a wonderful beachy vibe.

I hate going to these little artist places and not supporting it somehow so I chose a little ornament to go home with after chatting with Cynthia for a while. It was a jellyfish made from small pieces of melted beach glass which was incorporated into a lot of the pottery here. I was also told she holds pottery classes here and had been at this for 30 years. It’s always nice to see someone who has made their passions work for them. I only wish I could have been a little more convincingly social but my brain was mush from two hours of driving in traffic and I was already having one of those days (week really) where eye contact was too much to bear. Better luck next time?

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The Paper House, Rockport Massachusetts

This one had been on my list for a long time because it was so odd. And the entrance fee was only $3 a head. Win.

I didn’t actually know where Rockport was. On the other side of Boston of course… so we did that whole fun trip right through the city and all the traffic but luckily it wasn’t that bad on this spring day. When we got to the Paper House it was in a residential neighborhood that was littered with signs reading no parking on this side of the street.

The sign was outside a regular house and up a small city driveway. Was I supposed to go in the driveway??? Could I park on the street?? The driveway had two parking spots, one had what I asumed was the home owner’s car in it. I parked in the other one and we walked awkwardly up the driveway wondering what was going to happen from here. Would we have to ring someone’s doorbell or ring a number? We walked up to the building on the property that read Paper House and looked in the windows. Yep, it was the paper house. It took us a minute to find a sign stating the door was unlocked and we could go in. There was an honor box outside to leave our entry fees.

This place was really small but fun. We were clearly the only ones there. In the structure the walls were decorated with folded paper in the style of “tramp art,” which was common in the 1920’s when these pieces were made. There were chairs, a table, a piano, and a grandfather clock, all decorated with rolls of paper. The information given was that these were made as an experiment to see how long print paper (in this case newspapers) could hold up if varnished and used to make things. There was no explanation as to WHY this experiment was going on, only that it was the homeowner’s grandfather who started in with this quirky hobby in the 1920’s. Some postcards sat out for souvenirs if you wanted to pay an extra 35 cents.

There was also a few pamphlets on other cool places to go in the area including a pottery shed just a few houses down. We’d continue our explorations there. This was a quirky little side quest and if you’re int he area I deffinately think you should give it a little lookey-loo. Otherwise, on it’s own, this probably wasn’t enough for me to say it’s worth any sort of drive, especially through Boston traffic! However, there’s lots of other stuff to do in the area that may make it worth it.

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Bonus Stillwater Antiques

I know we have hit Stillwater Antiques numerous times by now but it’s a fun one! Always something new every time we go. It’s big and ever evolving. Though this time around there were more empty booths than usual and I hope this isn’t going to be a continuing pattern that I’ve seen kill other antique malls… especially in this economy. Here’s hoping they stay in fine shape through it all!

On this particular day it was a treasure trove of terrifying dolls and mushroom swag as well as a new booth which had a jacket reading, “Have the day you deserve” which is the current mood these days! So enjoy the gallery below!

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The Barker Character, Comic, and Cartoon Museum, Cheshire Connecticut

My travel companion’s need for novelty is what ended up making him pick something unusual for this particular destination. I’d seen it on lists of places to go before but I was a little unsure what it actually was and if it was worth the long drive to Connecticut. It was however only $5 per adult ticket so why not go and see?

This place was something else. Driving there was interesting. It was easy enough to find but the sign aside the road looked small and very aged and the driveway really looked like it was bringing me to a household. There were two small parking lots each big enough for four or five cars. To my surprise this was two buildings, not one, and the property around the building seemed to have cut outs and other fun things to take photos with.

We ended up walking into the gift shop which is where the tickets are purchased. Another family was getting attended to so the woman working the counter told us to go have fun checking out the gift shop and the adjoined gallery and she’d take our money when we were finished. The gift shop was darling. Dr Suess taxidermy lined the walls, to the other side there was a lot of little Disney things and other very recognizable cartoon merch. The gallery was also a lot of fun and a lot larger than it looked at first. It was several rooms and hallways filled with stills, paintings, and prints of every iconic cartoon figure you could think of from Betty Boop to Jack Skeleton. As well as some I didn’t recognize. It was a fun little jaunt down memory lane. I especially appreciated the one of a kind pieces of art, some of which were more 3D than you’d expect of a cartoon with layers of paint or paper to make them more interesting. All of it was for sale – for some hefty serious collector prices.

When we finished we circled back around, got our tickets, and then headed outside to the other building which was the actual museum and oh my god, this place was OVERWELMING! There were display cases against every wall and creating numerous isles. They went from the floor to over our heads and even the ceiling had every inch of it decorated with hanging cartoon characters.

I had come here expecting Disney and WB characters but this place had everything. And it was all organized into sections. There’d be a case of Popeyes, some Wizard of Oz stuff, a gaggle of creepy puppets, and a pile of my childhood phobia: Teletubbies. Those were out, you could totally boop them. As a child I only saw still photos of Teletubbies in the news. I had no idea until recently they’re HUGE and talk like possessed baby dolls. I was re-traumatized.

ANYWAY, as we looked around we found all sorts of delightful things – Mork and Mindy, Animaniacs, Felix the Cat, Betty Boop’s entire disturbing squad (including that goddamn clown) and another childhood favorite the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Every INCH of this place had something. There were just layers and layers. And no cartoon was forgotten, they even had cartoons that existed only as brand mascots – Betsy the Cow, the scrubbing bubbles brush, Big Boy, Cracker Jack, and the M & M’s. And as is usual for this blog there was also an alarming amount of ventriloquist dummies. Each creepier than the last.

Sometimes I dream of owning a house, a house with a guest room, a house with a guest room full to the brim with haunted dolls. It’d be exposure therapy for me as I find them terrifying and would also be hilarious to use as a bet. You want to come visit ME? THEN YOU SLEEP WITH THE DOLLS. If you make it the night I’ll give you a prize, if you end up on the couch I will tease you until your last dying day.

This museum looks like it probably started in a similar fashion to the Scrubs-like fantasy I wrote out above. Clearly this was someone’s collections which got way out of hand and thank goodness it did because it was an absolute joy to visit. More so I think I could probably go there again, even several more times, and see something different each time. This was totally worth the drive for any children or children at heart.

Oh, and the distressing cow I took a photo of for the header of this entry? That’s Betsy. If I am to believe her plaque she was once more popular than Mickey Mouse. Her job was to sell dairy which apparently, she did very well! And now… she’s just a statue in a creepy photo that could be the cover of a horror movie. Bless.

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The Death of Democracy Protest – Brattleborro Vermont

It’s been a crazy messed up year, hasn’t it? I get the feeling anyone with an iota of common sense knows what’s going on right now is not normal and not good. But the mainstream media has been SILENT on this fact actively shutting down any reports that aren’t fawning and positive toward the current leadership. It’s like living in a madhouse. You see reality and yet reality is gaslighting the shit out of you right back. It can be an isolating experience but I don’t think we should let it be.

As we were about to leave Twice Upon a Time Treasures a great fuss and noise kicked up outside. The noise continued to clatter as we made our way out into the streets. It was a protest – a few individuals, probably origional happiest, dressed in mourning attire carrying a cardboard casket labeled “democracy.” It was a small, short, and sweet protest but it kicked up A LOT of car horn honks and for me served to charge my batteries in regards to hope. Who knew a month or so later I’d be able to witness millions coming out to shout the same sentiment. I suppose this is another reason why I love Vermont so much.

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The Sparkle Barn – Wallingford Vermont

The shittier life gets and the more apocalyptic the surrounding world becomes the more I desperately need whimsy and the Sparkle barn… well, it was exactly what I needed! This place was so nonsically colorful it just fed my soul.

It had been on my bucket list for a few months but to be honest I had no idea what to expect. It was really just the title that was sparking my infinite curiosity.

We visited the Sparkle Barn on our second day in Vermont. It was our first stop and quite a hike into the middle of nowhere but you know, Vermont’s like that. It’s the state that hides a lot of treasures behind a mischievous smile.

Driving up it didn’t look like too much from the outside although there was a broken down bus in the parking lot with a beach ball in its window painted to look like a giant eyeball. Trippy. I like the fact someone else besides me was personifying cars. By now the issues at home that had been dogging my companion the day before had come to a head and he was now having a bit of a meltdown yelling into the phone. I gave him some space by wandering into the yard of this odd place.

There seemed to be a garden of sorts out front but it was unlike any garden I’d ever seen. For one the flowers were all made of brightly colored metal. They reminded me a bit of Alice in Wonderland. Beyond them was a bench in the shape of a unicorn you could sit on and so many other sparkly metal decorations both dancing in the wind and tacked up to the barn’s wall. I was fucking loving this and I hadn’t even stepped inside yet!

Inside was even sparklier. The entryway was surrounded by stained glass windows and the inside was a darling little gift shop with fancy notebooks and diaries and whatnot, a light smattering of nerdcore (like some Edgar Allen Poe dolls!) It was all very cute. Unfortunately, my companion was still coming down from his traumatic phone call and was more than a little distracted. That is until we walked into a room that seemed at complete odds with the over the top color of the rest of this place. It was a room with a wall mural of ravens. There was a big Gothic chair and candles and witchy items for sale in case anyone needed a bundle of sage or a piece of Edgar Allen Poe or Edward Gorey memorabilia. Honestly, I haven’t done enough with those two as both had lived in New England at some point in their lives. And I adore both of their work.

However the biggest treat of this place was upstairs which was so immersing that it shocked both of us into experiencing the moment. The second floor of the barn was an “interactive art display.” And when I tell you EVERY last inch of wall, ceiling, and floor of this place was covered in brightly colored fabrics and enormous fake flowers I mean it. It was literally like walking into Alice in Wonderland. The photos just don’t do it justice. Vines and flowers dangled from above and seemed to sprout from the plush super thick shag carpet as well. Child size chairs and tables in the form of flower petals and toadstools sat in two rows so you could sit or watch the children scamper through this felted garden. This tickled every cell of my inner child. SO MUCH WHIMSY. I was so stupidly happy in this moment. This was a goddamn treasure for all ages. I wished more places like this existed. We both left in a much better mood than we arrived in.

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Delaney Antiques [Clocks] – West Townsend Massachusetts

After going to the Hobart Antique Mall we realized that directly across from it there was another sign reading Antiques across the road. We decided to explore this further having no idea what it was. The sign out front seemed even older and more worn out than the Hobart Village Antiques but there was cars in the lot so we held on for the ride. The entrance was a little weird but we found it and then walked into one of the bizzarest places we’ve been yet. Suddenly we were surrounded on all sides by antique clocks, all ticking. At the risk of dating myself I felt like I was walking into a scene from Hook but unlike the kid in that movie I didn’t have a baseball bat and a bad influence instead I had an immediate panic attack. Ticking is one of my triggers that brings me right back to grade school when some teacher thought it was a great idea to teach children math through timed tests. So we all sat with our multiplication tables and and who got to sit next to the loudly ticking egg timer? You guessed it! Me! I never did learn my multiplication tables and to this day I find timed tests to be child torture. Recently I’ve gone back to learn my math with DuoLingo and was more than horrified to find part of its lessons are again, timed tests. No ticking but still as anxiety inducing.

I swallowed hard and walked in anyway knowing I was being neurotic, these are grandfather clocks, not Acme bombs, and no one’s asking me math questions. Just put on your big kid pants and deal with it.

This place was a two level post and beam barn filled in every corner with grandfather clocks against every wall and in the middle of the room? Tables with smaller mantle clocks. All in pristine condition, all ticking, all reading a different time! So now not only was I sweating hard from panic I was also struggling not to twitch from the chaos of none of them being set right. This is an autistic person’s nightmare, honestly, so much so I noticed I wasn’t taking any photos of individual clocks so I closed my eyes, breathed a moment, and allowed my instinct to drag me to the most interesting looking clock. It had an elaborate wood inlay pattern, the likes I’d never seen before. I took a moment to take a picture of that before walking up the stairs which was decorated with clock faces, so many clock faces.

By the time we made it to the second floor my companion was quietly talking. These clocks are neat but expensive he lamented. He looked at the price tag on one which was over a grand. I blinked, happy to be focusing on something other than the ticking, and said well yeah, the one you picked has a mahogany inlay. By now the shop keep had come up and started talking to us. Ask any questions, he welcomed. So my companion asked about Newport Rhode Island and apparently back in the day they had a few famous clock makers and he pointed out those clocks as we riffed about what an odd place colonial Newport was. One of these clocks was made of solid walnut, I nodded and said, “When we still had walnut trees” which seemed to delight the shop keep who confirmed the sentiment. Black walnut still exist in the United States but are near extinct due to diseases and pests that thrived in the pine forests we planted after cutting down every old forest hardwood tree that existed here. There are conservation efforts going on right now to grow more and the public can help. This is one of the reasons I want to own land – to be a custodian of some of these precious trees, grown from nuts acquired through these programs.

We also got to see a reproduction piece of furniture from the John Brown house that was the most expensive piece of American furniture to be sold at auction. It was indeed beautiful.

I asked what the oldest clock was and he showed us a grandfather clock built in 1610. It was English and spent most of its life in England and France. Strangely enough it was the one clock I took a singular photo of with the ornate wood inlays. I’d been drawn to it for a reason!

We thanked the owner for the history lesson and said we’d refer anyone looking for an antique clock here! Hell, if we ever end up with the old farm house of my dreams I’m not guaranteeing that won’t be us someday. You know if this blog ever goes viral and we end up with clock money!

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