Reacquainted With The Me

Margaret Explosion's limited edition 45 cover for "Juggler/Purple Heart" on press at Printing & Book Arts Center in Rochester, NY
Margaret Explosion’s limited edition 45 cover for “Juggler/Purple Heart” on press at Printing & Book Arts Center in Rochester, NY

I’m not much for talking on the phone but Brad Fox and I are in the habit of talking on our birthdays. He is the same age as me for two days, the two days between our birth dates. This year he reminded me of something we did a long time ago, so long ago that I had to get reacquainted with the me that would have done something like this. I had a summer job mowing lawns at apartment buildings during the day and then sweeping parking lots with this tank like machine at night. Brad worked with me for a few weeks and we stopped at Harry’s Hots on East Ridge for a late night snack. They had juke box there with satellite machines at each of the tables and Brad remembers us loading up the juke box with about ten plays of Bobby Goldsboro’s “Honey” and then leaving the restaurant.

Steve Lippincott is in town for a few days and he offered to cook dinner for us last night at Tom Kohn’s new house in the city. Tom’s place is in our old neighborhood and we just loved the house. Tom was was spinning records including the double, white vinyl, live Television album that was released on Record Store Day a few weeks ago. Steve is working on a cookbook and we were a live test group for ten spice chicken and vegetarian tortilla with fresh corn. We gave it our thumbs up.

I check in with So Many Records every day. The juke box in the sky that at first seemed like a museum now feels like part of current culture. With the resurgence of vinyl I thought it would easier to find die cut blanks for a 45 sleeve but the only ones I could find were chip board from Stumptown Printers in Portland Oregon so we ordered a hundred. With the help of Bill and Geri at the Printing & Book Arts Center Peggi and I ran the first color of our two color package on a Vandercook letterpress and tomorrow we are scheduled to run the black.

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Sounds Like A Plan

Red Magnolia blossoms in Peggi's hands
Red Magnolia blossoms in Peggi’s hands

The temperature barely got in to the fifties today but it felt warm in the woods. Last year Spring came on like gangbusters so everything was in bloom at once and it was over before we knew it. This year it’s taking its time and that’s ok with me. We cut through the park to check on the magnolias. The pink ones are dropping, deep red ones are just starting to open and the yellow ones are still tucked in their fuzzy cocoons. The colors look more dramatic on cloudy days so quit yer complainin’.

I came to class unarmed last night. That is I only had a few small watercolor/drawings to show for the week. And of all nights to be so empty-handed! Our teacher, Fred, was a little late. He’s usually a little late and I’m always early. Punctuality is not one of my traits but painting is different. When he walked in I was only one in class. A lot of people were way late or just took the night off. I showed him the paintings on paper and we talked for quite a while. He liked one quite a bit and complimented me on my brush language but I had painted myself into a corner on another and it provided the perfect opportunity to rethink my process.

Fred characterized my overall approach as conservative, trying to get the proportions of the head right, the eyes the same size and adding an ear because the model has one or two, those sorts of things. He suggested I look for the characteristics I want to paint, in my case it’s always the expression, and paint that. Forget about the ordinary concerns, the mechanics, and go for the art. He offered an analogy I could grasp in the way jazz musicians play. Make a move and improvise on that, compliment it, amplify it, contrast it, provoke it. A dialog full of surprises. Add one mark at a time and keep them all in play like a juggler. He surmised that I get into trouble when paint something without confidence so I would be better off if I didn’t paint that which I am not confident about.

I’m getting so I can talk a good game.

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Sifting The April Sunlight For Clues

Alex Katz print from "Self Portrait in a Convex Mirror" at Memorial Art Gallery in Rochester, NY
Alex Katz print from “Self Portrait in a Convex Mirror” at Memorial Art Gallery in Rochester, NY

It was still April when we saw this painting in the Lockhart Gallery at the Memorial Art Galley in Rochester. We were there for the opening of the Fiber Arts show but found the sideshow in the Lockhart Gallery more interesting. In connection with Writer’s & Books’ thirtieth anniversary they have mounted a show of the pages of “Self Portrait In A Convex Mirror”, a limited edition (175 copies) of an artist’s book centered around, literally, the pages are round John Ashbery’s poem which was based on Girolamo Francesco Maria Mazzola’s 1524 painting with the same title. The book included an lp of Ashbery reading the poem, letterpress printed pages of the poem and artist’s prints form Larry Rivers, Elaine and William William DeKoning, Jim Dine, R.J. Kitaj and Alex Katz.

I have liked Alex Katz’s work since Charlie Coco took me to Times Square in the seventies to see his giant murals of people’s heads. And then a few years later we were looking at the Whitney Biennial and there was some sort of installation of drum set behind a curtain in the gallery and it appeared they were inviting people to play the set so I sat down and knocked out something. I put the sticks down and came out from behind the curtain and found myself face to face with Alex Katz. He was wearing brown bucks.

John Ashbery speaks at the Gallery about his his life, the New York School and his work on June 2nd.

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Three Faces

Three Crime Face tempura drawings by Paul Dodd at Lucy Byrne Gallery in the Memorial Art Gallery
Three Crime Face tempura drawings by Paul Dodd at Lucy Byrne Gallery in the Memorial Art Gallery

I have three pieces in the current “Drawing Show” at the Lucy Burne Gallery in the Memorial Art Gallery. My drawings were done with black tempura paint on brown craft paper. There really is very little difference between my drawings and my paintings. That is my paintings are closer to drawings than paintings. The only real difference in drawings like these and my paintings is that I can’t make corrections (unless I mix a batch of “craft paper” brown tempura paint) so the drawing has to work or I toss it. I did a small pile of these drawings for a few nights and would do more if I can find a way to do corrections on the misplaced black lines. I like seeing the corrections and the work that goes into the drawing and I miss that in these drawings.

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Sunflower, Burdock, Rhubarb & Horseradish.

Sunflower, Rhubarb, Sun Flower and Horseradish leaves on wall at Toko Imports in Ithaca
Sunflower, Rhubarb, Sun Flower and Horseradish leaves on wall at Toko Imports in Ithaca

You don’t have to be a drummer to like Toko Imports in Ithaca. The owner, Tom, carries hats and hammocks as well as congas, djembes, gongs and every type of percussion instrument imaginable. Peggi rattled a donkey skull with the teeth still in their sockets, a primitive Vibra-Slap.

I bought some brushes and commented on the huge leaves on the wall behind the counter. Tom confirmed that they were indeed real, locally grown leaves from some common plants. He told us that we knew what these leaves were and pulled the right answers from us by giving us well rehearsed clues. Sunflower, Burdock, Rhubarb and Horseradish. The woman from Holland who was standing next to us had never heard of Horseradish.

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El Sueño de la Razon

Goya's "El Sueño de la Razon Produce Monstruos" print at the Johnson Museum in Ithaca
Goya’s “El Sueño de la Razon Produce Monstruos” print at the Johnson Museum in Ithaca

The Johnson Museum on Cornell’s campus has a room full of Goya prints currently on display. I planned on taking the day off and driving down there to see the show and celebrate my birthday but we had some work that just had to be done this morning so we got a late start. We didn’t take the most direct route either because we avoided the thruway and drove through Canandagua and then down the east side of Seneca Lake toward Watkins Glen. We were driving through Dundee when Peggi said, “I wonder how your aunt and uncle are.” They live in a farmhouse at Starkey’s Corners and we were a stone’s throw away so we stopped by to visit.

My aunt answered the door and showed us the new coal stove in their kitchen. My uncle was sleeping in a chair in the next room and he woke up with all the commotion. He said “Come in and sit down. I’ll put my teeth in.” The four of us sat down on the porch and my uncle talked to me while my aunt talked to Peggi. Two conversations at the same time, both full of tales of yesteryear. He was telling me how tugboats towed barges loaded with salt or ice up the lake and into the Erie Canal while my aunt was telling Peggi how she had been back to her old neighborhood on Rochester’s west side and how everything had changed. My uncle pointed to a painting on their wall of stereotypical Irishmen in green suits with whimsical pipes walking along the canal with horses that were hitched to a barge.

My aunt is also my godmother and I have always had a soft spot for her. She was a nurse at Saint Mary’s when my uncle was brought there because of a farm accident. One of my earliest memories was going to their wedding. They’ve lived on this farm since and it was my favorite place to visit as a kid. It still looks exactly the same but they’ve sold their property to a group of Mennonites who work the land and let my aunt and uncle continue to live in their old house.

We usually park in the Ithaca Municipal Garage and then walk up the hill to Cornell but this time we drove up and got sort of lost. We were across from the hillside where Personal Effects played back in the day when we asked for directions. It reminded us of Dunn Meadow at IU. She said we were on the wrong side of campus. The museum closed at five so we had only forty five minutes to see the show but it was an intense forty five minutes. Goya is often called the first modern artist. His work is every bit as gripping and relevant today as it must have been in the late 1700’s. “The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters.” A perfect birthday gift.

Listen to Margaret Explosion “Sleep of Reason.”

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Meat & Beat

Willow tree on its side
Willow tree on its side

The willow tree in the picture above has fallen over but there are enough roots still in the ground to send nourishment to the hundreds of shoots, or branches really, that are growing upward out of its side. We were saddened to hear that Poly Styrene had died of cancer. Her band was so much fun for that brief period. Her smart lyrics and the saxophone were the perfect antidote to the punks. “I Am A Poseur”. My brother in law has cancer and the neighbor’s granddaughter has a brain tumor. We’re all pre-cancerous if we don’t have it already. This fallen willow got me thinking about all this.

I was looking for a replacement window for the skylight that came with our house. The one we have leaks or it used to. I thought it was the roof leaking and I caulked between almost every shingle up there before I realized it was the aluminum seal around the window itself. By that time the wood frame had rotted so I called Velux and determined that they still make our model. I got price from Lowes and then one from Home Depot. Home Depot told me they would match Lowes price and then take 10% off that. So we drove out to Lowes, got he quote in writing and took it to Home Depot. I did this routine once before but I can’t remember what it was I was buying. The clerk at Home Depot had to get special permission to mark the price down and we watched him type “Meat & Beat Competitor” into his computer terminal before he gave us the bill.

I like Home Depot better. They must be hungrier in their race with Lowes but their sales staff seems friendlier and they are very helpful. The Lowes Sore near us is bigger and cleaner with fewer customers. Home Depot is always hopping with contractors and works and of course do-it-tourselfers like us. The store is funkier and more comfortable. Today we saw a a customer having his lunch in the plumbing aisle.

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Fool On The Hill

House on the hill in Irondequoit, NY
House on the hill in Irondequoit, NY

You know how nosey neighbors can be, always speculating about somebody else’s business. The house at the top of the hill in the photo above wasn’t even there when we moved here a few years ago and now it’s for sale. Zillow says their asking 300k and the place doesn’t even have a driveway. Neighbors say it went into foreclosure.

At the edges of the enlargement of the photo above you can see the hill dropping off on both sides, as steeply as it does in the front. We could not believe our eyes when they started building on this lot. Doesn’t the town of Irondequoit have “steep slopes” and “setback”regulations? Did money change hands here or was the town so desperate to increase the tax base that they gave this guy a pass? We hadn’t even set eyes on the owner and we were already calling him “The fool on the hill” but we’re really the fools because this was a beautiful hill on a gorgeous strip of land before they built this modern monstrosity on top of it.

Funniest thing about all of this is I haven’t found a beer can since this guy moved out. We used to haul home twenty at a time from the spot by the creek directly across from his house. We ran into him a few times with the bags of 20 ouncers and we asked if he had any idea who the hops head was. Could it be we found Mister Budweiser?

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Conceptual Photography

John Gilmore photo of lightning storm
John Gilmore photo of lightning storm

Our friend John woke up in that lightning storm that we had early Wednesday morning. He took some photos and we looked at them on my computer last night. He never got a lightning bolt or anything but the purple trees looked pretty psychedelic. I was stuck by a few things. The date on the photo is about four years old and its probably the oldest date that his camera’s software would let him set if he ever found his way to the settings. And secondly, every photo he has ever taken with that camera probably has this same date on it.

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Party Like It’s 1998

Margaret Explosion playing at Bug Jar Happy Hour in 1998. Jack Schaefer on guitar, Paul Dodd on drums. Pete LaBonne on bas guitar and Peggi Fournier on soprano sax.
Margaret Explosion playing at Bug Jar Happy Hour in 1998. Jack Schaefer on guitar, Paul Dodd on drums. Pete LaBonne on bas guitar and Peggi Fournier on soprano sax.

Jack Schaeffer and Pete LaBonne join Margaret Explosion tonight at the Bug Jar. I should say “rejoin” because they were both original members. Jack doesn’t settle for ordinary and Pete doesn’t even know what it is so it promises to be an adventure. The shot above was taken at the Bug Jar about thirteen years ago so it will be a reunion as well.

Invisible Idiot CD "Outta Sight, Outa Mind" (EAR 7) on Earring Records, released 1999
Invisible Idiot CD “Outta Sight, Outa Mind” (EAR 7) on Earring Records, released 1999

Margaret Explosion – Abstract Express

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Sempre Culver

I have been cruising down Culver Road for most of my life and I never get tired of it. Sometimes its magical like this Sunday when we drove in to hear Bach’s “St. John’s Passion.” We had an Italian radio show on as we cruised by Dixon Apartments, Dentico’s and Palermo’s Deli. The sky was cloudy but promising.

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I Miss My Mouse

Three stacks of crime faces from the local paper. Oil paintings by Paul Dodd
Three stacks of crime faces from the local paper. Oil paintings by Paul Dodd

I found this photo in my photo library on our iPad. I’m at least three years behind in photographing my paintings. Our addresses, contacts, email and photos all sync effortlessly with our desktop machines and we use theiPad for just about everything. Everything but productivity that is. Unless you count reading, surfing, listening to music or streaming movies as a productive activity. I kind of like typing on the thing.

Who would have guessed that it would take an heroic effort to crop and scale a photo to a particular pixel dimension like 450 x200 for example? As an experiment I tried a few apps like “Crop For Free” and then bought “Photogene” for $2.99 but that didn’t let me crop and scale which is one activity in Photoshop. So I bought FilterStorm and that does the trick in two steps. I saved two versions (the cropped version you see above and the full shot but in a scaled down size for the blowup) of the original photo back to my photo library and inserted them here. When I say “here” I should say I am in the WordPress app because I can’t even reach my photo library from the WP admin panel at my site in Safari. Not sure why that is but it acts like a limited version of Safari.

So I managed to do a post from the iPad but I’m exhausted. I still haven’t plugged in the $29 Camera Connection Kit but that would allow me to reach photos on my camera from the iPad and post to this site through the WP app. I’s all pretty amazing really.
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Jesus Is A Baritone

Station 12 from "Passion Play" by Paul Dodd, 24" x 30" inkjet print 1998
Station 12 from “Passion Play” by Paul Dodd, 24″ x 30″ inkjet print 1998

I had planned on stopping by Record Archive and the Bob Shop for Record Store Day. Peggi had emailed the Bop Shop ad we did for Tom for the upcoming Jazz Festival and I wanted to make sure it looked ok before we put it into InDesign and sent it off. I would also check the racks for new releases from my favorite artists, most of which are dead. I’m still hoping for one from Ornette before he says goodbye.

As it turns out we started the day by downloading a live Neil Young gig. So much for supporting local record stores. Duane sent us the link so I can blame him. We saw the “Chrome Dreams 2” tour in Buffalo where they were still using pieces of the Greendale set. This is an audience recording, it sounds amazing.

I’ve seen a few Rembrandts, just a handful really, but I was knocked out by how timeless they are. I mean they actually appear alive. This afternoon we heard Bach’s “St. John Passion” performed by “Voices”, the local professional chamber choir. Bach wrote the piece near the end of his long life and it was performed on Good Friday. Today was Palm Sunday and it was close enough. The eighteen voice chorus and small orchestra sounded great in the Lutheran Church, a fitting venue as they have a weekly service in German, a large German contingent to their parish and Bach’s “Passion” was performed in his and their native tongue. Bach’s music is also still alive. The church was packed. We squeezed into the back pew and were blown away by how powerful this music is. We are so fortunate to have this accumulated culture to dip into.

The Stations of the Cross were always my favorite part of church. I collected sources from newspaper clippings for a retelling, the Unabomber was on the front page one Good Friday, and I still plan to paint the Stations some day. I showed the studies at the Bug Jar in 1998 and they were shown again at the Finger Lakes Show in 1999.

I heard the last pope added a fifteen station, the resurrection, the most suspect of all miracles to say the least, for a happy ending. And the current pope wants to rush sainthood for the guy who hired him to “handle” the countless sex abuse cases. I say “sainthood now” for Rembrandt and Bach and Ornette.

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Bang RIP

Billy Bang at Water Street Music Hall in Rochester.NY in 2007
Billy Bang at Water Street Music Hall in Rochester.NY in 2007

Billy Bang loved Rochester because Rochester loved Billy Bang. You could tell when he took the stage and he said as much. Somehow the rough and tumble sophistication fit. He was a cocky star in the underground jazz movement when he appeared with Sun Ra’s band at the Red Creek in ’86 and over the years Tom Kohn brought him to the Bop Shop atrium, the German House and Water Street in many configurations. His music soared when he began writing his haunting Viet Nam suite. It took him a while to process his war experience but when he did it came out in an incredibly rich, dark, beautiful way. Track down “KIAMIA” on iTunes and I’ll stop trying to describe it. He tore the roof off of Montage during the 2004 Rochester Jazz Festival and did so again in 2006 when Garth Fagan joined him on stage. The violinist was scheduled to open the fest this year but word has spread that he’s died of cancer and we’ll miss him.

Bang’s music transcends jazz and could easily fit on Scott Regan’s “Open Tunings” or Rick Simpson’s “Gumbo Variations”. In fact I’ll request it tonight. We saw Scott last night at the Margaret Explosion gig and I hope he doesn’t come down with anything in the next few days. I was telling him I thought I gotten sick from sick from a reaction to the drug they gave me for my colonoscopy but it had been in the back of mind that maybe I caught a bug from Scott’s bandmate, Steve Piper, who shook Peggi’s hand after their gig on Saturday night and then told Peggi that he had been sick with a stomach flu. Well Peggi left the stage while we were playing last night in a rather dramatic fashion. I followed her to the bathroom and sure enough she had the bug so I was wrong about my bad reaction and just as wrong to blame Steve Piper for the bug that is going around. Who wouldn’t shake Steve’s hand after his rousing version of an Elvis’s “His Latest Flame”?

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It’s Heavy

Ken Frank, Paul Dodd and Peggi Fournier playing as a trio version of Margaret Explosion at High Falls in Rochester, New York
Ken Frank, Paul Dodd and Peggi Fournier playing as a trio version of Margaret Explosion at High Falls in Rochester, New York

Ken, Peggi and I played as trio version of Margaret Explosion over the weekend and Brian Peterson took this photo. It was a 50 dollar a head auction/party for the The Genesee Center For The Arts. Rick from Watkins & The Rapiers sat in with on trombone in the second set and we tore it up while Ken’s wife yelled for Stones and Neil Young covers. They had nice spread of food but we had already eaten and the small cannolis on the dessert table looked inviting but I was already paring down my food intake for my Monday morning colonoscopy.

This was second one and because they found a polyp on the run so they wanted to do another in five years. I asked my mom how many she had had and she said she’s never had one and my dad said one of his doctors recommended one but the other said he was too old it. He didn’t really like hearing that. I was dreading this whole thing but as they say, “The prep is the hardest part. Last time I had to drink a gallon of Drano. This time it was one two quarts but that pretty much shoots the day.

The sedative never completely knocked me out but it did space me out for most of the day. I was able to read the paper as soon as they were done but I was little wobbly when I stood up. We went directly from the doctor’s to SEA Restaurant on Monroe for a big bowl of Vietnamese Pho and then to the used bookstore next door. Peggi picked up a few things from the horror section and I found a four dollar book on Picasso and Matisse written by Francoise Gilot, one of Picasso’s exs. It was such a nice day we pretty much blew off work and headed out to the Apple store. I wanted to buy a USB Camera Connection Kit for our iPad. I want to be able to backup photos on my iPad and also work with photos when I’m out of town. My laptop feels so big and clumsy these days and it’s heavy!

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Where The Magic Is

Painting in the bathroom upstairs at Polska Chata in Irondequoit, NY
Painting in the bathroom upstairs at Polska Chata in Irondequoit, NY

After the Margaret Explosion gig on Wednesday I sat down with Jeff, a therapist and friend from high school and beyond, and we began talking about the painting/therapy nexus. Jeff felt there was a strong parallel between the two practices and why shouldn’t there be? This conversation was just getting going when we were interrupted but the topic has been kicking around in my head.

When my father started taking the painting class with me at the Creative Workshop he’d come out of class many times saying he felt like he was in therapy and I would laugh but I know exactly what he meant. Breaking old habits requires someone to point the detrimental habits out. Staying open and using your eyes instead of your brain, learning to trust your own eyes is tougher than would seem so why not accept help from a coach?

Recovering alcoholics all subscribe to the “one day at a time thing” just as painters in Fred Lipp’s class learn to “address the worst first.” “Always, get to the point!” “Painting is not supposed to be easy or everyone would do it.” The journey is the thing, not the plan or final piece, and the toughest lesson is learning to enjoy the struggle because that is where the magic is.

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Good Bad

Painting for sale in house on Queensboro in Rochester, New York
Painting for sale in house on Queensboro in Rochester, New York

About twenty years ago or so Kim sent us a book called “Thrift Store Paintings” by Jim Shaw. It was a pretty cool collection of good bad paintings and it turned out Jim Shaw was the nephew of Peggi’s parents best friends, the Gardners.

Danny from Abilene has a pretty cool collection of thrift store paintings at his bar downtown so when we spotted this painting this morning in a household sale on Queensboro in Rochester I took a photo and emailed it to him. I could just as easily have alerted Marie Via or Clair Marziotti whose collections were featured in a Democrat & Chronicle article on bad art but if they scooped it up I wouldn’t be able to visit it as often. Jack Wanderman, Susan Plunket’s brother, was organizing the sale and asking $65 for the painting. We were there to visit some of Peggi’s mom’s stuff one last time. Jack has been putting her stuff in household sales around town.

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Hitchhike Baby

Paul Dodd with movie camera, Rich Stim and Norm Ladd at Norm's wedding
Paul Dodd with movie camera, Rich Stim and Norm Ladd at Norm’s wedding

When I was a freshman Norm Ladd’s mam called me and said Norm, a friend of mine from high school who was a couple years younger, had run away from home and he was hitchhiking out to see me. He lived in my dorm for while.

I used to hitchhike all the time. Back forth to work at my uncle’s store during high school, over to Brad and Dave’s house and then back and forth to Bloomington. I got picked up by one of the famous Wyeth family members. He was wearing leather gloves and driving a small sports car but it overheated around Buffalo and he through a fit. A few times I got picked up by a guys that wanted to “pick me up” but most of the time it worked out. Once I was picked up by a salesman who gave me some potato chips that his company had just introduced. He was raving about how much less shelf space the chips took up because they came in cans instead of bags. He had boxes of them in the back seat and we ate them as we drove toward Indianapolis. They tasted pretty good and he gave me a can to take back to the dorm.

Today in the business section I read about Procter & Gamble selling off their food brands, Jif, Folger’, Crisco and Pringles. The article said their advertising division was located in Cincinatti and they test marketed the chips in Evansville Indiana in 1968. That salesman would have picked me up halfway between those two locations that year. I didn’t imagine all this.

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