Many character actors might bristle at the idea of being branded a character actor. Because, after all, who wants to be branded as a type? If in your last ten movies you played that type, are you destined to play that type again and again? On the other hand, if you’re good enough, it means steady work.
Edward Andrews was spot-on perfect in mid-20th century movies and television as a character actor who got tons of steady work because he perfectly hit a certain character role target. In his horn-rimmed glasses, Andrews embodied the imperious, officious, smug, and stuffy role better than any other actor working at that time. So perfectly did he play the part that I have a hard time believing that there was a real person behind the roles.
In the early years of his career, Andrews was rarely, if ever, cast in a purely sympathetic, heart-warming role. He was always a mayor, military brass, banker, doctor, school principal, or religious leader. Only in the last few years of his career did he receive more benign roles.
In 1964’s Send Me No Flowers, with Rock Hudson and Doris Day, Andrews delivered one of his more neutral and least unsympathetic characters as Hudson’s doctor, lacing the role with humor and only a few traces of the characteristic Andrews smugness.
Andrews as the sinister authority figure Carling from The Twilight Zone’s “Third From the Sun,” dancing on the fine edge between practiced courtesy and quiet menace:
Andrews’ most quietly disturbing man-next-door role, though, was as Oliver Pope in The Twilight Zone’s “You Drive.” Is Oliver Pope evil for evading the law after running over and killing a young boy? Maybe. What makes Andrews’ role so mesmerizing it that he could be one of us.
When the Sands opened on December 15, 1952, it represented Las Vegas’ introduction to modern casino and hotel design. But the world wasn’t ready for it yet, as 1952 was a tender year for mid-century modern architecture: the Korean War was still being fought, Truman was still U.S. President. Few of the familiar signifiers of the MCM age, such as manned space travel, were present yet.
Wayne McAllister, the Sands architect, also designed the sign, a rare move in that town, where all signage was designed, fabricated, installed, and maintained by Young Electric Sign Co. (YESCO), which held and still holds an iron, Mafia-like grip on Vegas signage.
According to Chris Nichols’ fantastic book, The Leisure Architecture of Wayne McAllister,
“If I let YESCO design a sign,” [McAllister] remembered, “they would be back a couple of years later trying to get you to buy a better one.”
Still, McAllister had to hire YESCO to fabricate and install the sign. According to Nichols, the sign was fifty-six feet high, asymmetrically cantilevered, and used an “egg carton” design as a background for the script lettering. All of those features are MCM style wrapped into a single package. The only element that would truly make it MCM (and very much a McAllister creation) would be stonework on the support pillar.
1951: Sign Under Construction
One of the rare photographs from the UNLV collection showing construction of the Sands sign with the detached marquee. It would remain like that for awhile before the marquee was incorporated into the sign itself. It’s interesting to note the Trousdale Construction Co. sign. That company was owned by Paul Trousdale, who also built the legendary Trousdale Estates in Los Angeles.
1950s: Pre-Marquees
For much of the 1950s, the Sands sign stood proudly alone, with a separate marquee. The Sands sign’s subtitle, A Place In The Sun, ran on one line across the bottom of “Sands.” But this would eventually change.
This is probably the finest period of the Sands’ sign because the gridwork background was allowed to cantilever off of the support post on the right. As marquees were added below the gridwork, this graceful cantilever effect–and the view of the mountains–was obliterated.
1957: Back Side of Sign
A somewhat rare shot of the Sands sign from the back. While the sign had no true front or back, in most photos, the sign is presented with the support column on the right side.
1958: I Love Lucy Episode
While not a great view of Sands’ sign, this picture establishes that the original sign was still intact as of 1958 for this I Love Lucy episode, “Lucy Hunts Uranium.”
1950s: Sands Hotel Sign with TV Camera Operator
An unique photo of the Sands Hotel sign showing a TV camera operator on a platform.
1960: Famous Rat Pack Photo
Arguably the most famous picture of the Rat Pack, the Sands, and perhaps even Las Vegas itself. By now, two marquees had been incorporated into the sign. This photograph was taken in 1960, during the filming of “Ocean’s 11.”
1962
Early 1960s
In this two-marquee period, the marquees were still kept to one side of the sign.
Mid 1960s: Rebuilt Sands Hotel Sign
In this major rebuild of the Sands Hotel and its sign, it’s worth noting that the sign was no longer cantilevered. To accommodate the weight and size of the added marquees, the gridwork extends to grade.
1965: Sands Hotel and Sign Being Rebuilt
In the mid 1960s, the Sands Hotel and Casino was rebuilt as a round skyscraper, and the sign was rebuilt along with it.
Mid 1960s: Two Marquees
In a later two-marquee period, the larger marquee was enlarged and shifted to the center of the support pillar.
Mid 1960s: Two Marquees
Early to Mid 1970s
The 1970s was the era of the three marquees. More gridwork was added to the casino/hotel side of the sign to either structurally support or visually balance the extra marquees.
Dave Barry was a popular opening act for Wayne Newton. Not related to the writer/humorist, Barry died in August 2001.
1970s: Three Marquees
1981: Sign Dismantled
After thirty years, the era of the iconic Sands sign had passed. In this back side view, the classic sign was dismantled in 1981 and replaced by a large marquee-style sign from YESCO.
Remember the great age of home intercoms? I don’t either!
That’s because in the 1960s and 1970s, home intercoms were not found in your typical suburban house. Unless your family were “people of means,” as your Mom or Dad might have referred to your rich neighbors, you didn’t have one–sadly enough. Those neighbors with the sprawling, picture-perfect mid-century modern house with a pool and shag-covered conversation pit did have an intercom.
At the heart of it, an intercom is a house phone. It differs from a phone in that it has no handset. In many cases, the connection can be opened up without having to activate any controls. What this means is that Mom, in the kitchen, can can use the intercom to squawk “Time for dinner” to the kids in back of the house, without the kids having to pick up any bothersome handset (because they would ignore it, anyway).
Military and Industrial Roots
The term “intercom” first began appearing around World War II, but usually in a military or industrial setting–not the residential intercoms we tend to think of. Bombers had intercoms so that crew members could communicate across the length of the plane.
Teletalk billed itself as an “intercommunication system” for offices:
Intercoms in Homes, 1960s Onward
Wired and wireless intercoms began appearing in U.S. homes in the mid 1950s.
By the 1960s, real estate ads began listing intercoms as a house feature, along with pool and shag and other luxuries. This NuTone intercom from 1963 is fairly typical of a permanent, hard-wired system in that it came fully loaded multi-station functions and an AM/FM radio.
The Tiki Torch is both older and newer than you might think. It’s newer in the sense that the tiki torch–or let’s use the brand name, Tiki Torch–burning in your backyard, the bamboo kind with a reservoir filled with petroleum-based fuel, has no basis in true Polynesian history. It’s older in the sense that those torches you see every spring and summer at Home Depot or Lowe’s go back to the 1950s.
Tiki Torch Original Package and Artwork
Summary
Tiki Torch is a brand name currently owned by Lamplight Farms, Inc., a “leisure and lifestyle brands” company.
Its initial MSRP was $4.99. Many Tiki Torch brand torches today cost around that same amount.
Tiki Torch was originally produced in Belgium, Wisconsin.
The 1947 voyage of Kon-Tiki was the basis for the word “tiki.”
1956 was Tiki Torch’s first year, but it was a slow one, with products only being sold in the Los Angeles area.
Between 1957 and 1960 were Tiki Torch’s biggest years before interest began to wane.
1956: The Torch Is Lit
The word tiki is ambiguous, but it likely stems from the 1947 Thor Heyerdahl expedition of the balsa wood raft Kon-Tiki. The point was to prove the theory that Polynesia was settled by South Americans. Heyerdahl derived the name from the Incan god Viracocha, also spelled Con-Tici or Kon-Tiki.
The Birthplace of Mid-Century Modern Polynesian Popular Culture: Wisconsin
600 Park Street Belgium WI Original Location of Tiki Torch
In 1956, Tiki Torches began to be produced in the most un-Polynesia of all places: Belgium, Wisconsin. The original location–600 Park Street–is now occupied by Holiday Trims, Inc.
In June 1956, the first Tiki Torches began to be sold around the Los Angeles, CA area for $4.99 per torch and $0.99 for a quart of the safety fuel. It was a slow start for Tiki Torch, with products sold only in the L.A. area that first summer.
Surprisingly enough, the bamboo poles and reed housings that we are familiar with today were not present at that time. The original Tiki Torches were constructed of 100% aluminum, in Antique Copper, Antique Brass, and Satin Ebony finishes. The poles came in separate sections that were fitted together to form a single 6 ft. pole. From an ad:
Enjoy the decorative mood set by this new lighting. This smart-looking TIKI TORCH will keep away annoying insects while adding a touch of scenic glamour that is reminiscent of the enchantment of the South Seas. “Welcome, have fun…” that’s what your TIKI TORCH will say to friends who call…
By the end of summer 1956, LA-based pharmacy Thrifty had slashed the price by a dollar. By September, Tiki Torches had pretty much disappeared from stores for that summer season.
It wasn’t until December 25, 1956 that Tiki got around to filing the trademark on the name Tiki Torch.
In the 1960s, Interest Wanes
Next summer, Tiki Torches began to be sold across the United States. That $4.99 MSRP held firm for about three years, until interest began to wane around. By 1960, Tiki Torches could be scooped up for as little as $0.99 in some California stores.
Other brands, such as NOMA Luau Torches, Tonga Torches, Mai Kai Torches, and Tropic Torches, began to dilute the market, as well.
Tiki Torches and tiki culture in general were moribund through the period 1965 to 2003. Interest in mid-century modern Polynesian culture rose again in the mid 2000s when Sven A. Kirsten published the Taschen book The Book of Tiki. The Mad Men series also helped contribute to this mid-2010s interest in Polynesian pop culture, especially in Season 6, when Don and Megan go to Hawaii.
Tiki Torch Advertisement in the Los Angeles Times, July 2, 1961
Fantastic cutaway of New York’s Radio City Music Hall stage in 1950, showing the 57 foot pistons that operate the three stage elevators. This allowed the Rockettes to perform on three different levels.
