... watched the big game. Didn't you?
Where else are you going to find an oven/cooktop combo like this -- in near showroom-condition -- outside of a museum or old manufacturer's catalog or 1950's industrial film about the Kitchen of Tomorrow?
I like it so much, in fact, that I'm going to let this pass by without comment.
They were just $8. I don't need any more glassware, and I certainly don't have any place to store these, but Heaven only knows why I let simple practicalities like that stand in my way. They were, after all, from Lincolnwood!
There was a contentious mix of traditional and mod at work here, with each style retreating to their separate spaces. The public areas, like this living room, were pretty staid, aside from the pink paint that coats and soothes the walls.
But upstairs, there was this. I overheard the estate sale workers refer to it as "the crystal room."
It made perfect sense.
And not just because of all the crystal on the shelves.
I don't know whose fortress of solitude this was.
But I have to applaud the '70s-sci-fi-meets-'80s-Miami look going on here. Where else but Lincolnwood?
The basement was another area where someone let their freak flag fly back in the late '60s or early '70s.
We've got a few stops to make and then we're done.
You know the new owners are going to tear this down, send it to a landfill, and tell stories about it for as long as they live here.
The love of Lincolnwood, I'd say!
It looks like a little love is being spoken here, too.
This is the perfect TV to hook up to your Atari Pong home console.
Imagine, for just a moment, the crowds that once gathered around the delicious warmth of these matching fondue sets' Sterno flames. Thank you, Lincolnwood, for the memories!
It was, for the most part, a nice place. I'm hoping they moved because mom's book finally sold after a massive bidding war among the big publishing houses and she can finally afford that ocean-side compound with the guest house in Malibu/South Beach/fill-in-the-blank.
This upstairs bedroom sort of amused me.
Because these are the most awesome feather-boa curtains I've ever seen. I bet the purple suede jacket saw these and just about died.
On the other hand, Iris was not impressed with the glassware selection.
This crafts room was a nice touch -- with an extensive selection of craft supplies for sale.
I bet these razors were waiting for just the right time to introduce the girls to the wonder and joy of shaving their legs.
Wait'll you see what's in the basement.
Oh my god! How'd that get down here?
Pick your holiday -- and name your price!
Based on all the Easter decorations, these people were either Christian or the The Most Reformed Jews Ever.
Sometimes I feel like this about Christmas.
And sometimes I feel like this.
Somewhere in Heaven, an angel is missing its wings.
Who's up for a production of Oklahoma! and Guys and Dolls?
If you're going to work out on the Nordic Track and play the electric keyboard at the same time, you're going to need that mattress when one or the other ends up bucking you off.
Aaagh! It's the return of the purple people eater!
Despite the placement of that sign, I'm pretty sure the way out is not up those stairs.
I don't know if that winged egg/RV is a piece of artwork or something mom and dad used to convince the kids that camping really isn't that much fun after all.
Either way, it's worth a closer look, because I' never seen anything like it before, and probably won't see it again, barring its reappearance at someone else's estate sale.
This must be where the Goth twins slept.
Get in, do your business, and get out, because the walls are closing in.
Mom could put in a few miles on the treadmill, relax and watch her afternoon soaps, and turn in for a well-deserved night's sleep -- all without ever leaving this room or speaking to another living soul.
Down in the basement I found what is either the world's saddest guest room, or the place where mismatched twin beds go to die.
This one looks like someone decided to paint with a used diaper.
If it looks like Monday, and feels like Monday, it must be about Monday.
Although I'm a fan of Ivan Albright, his work does have a tendency to scare small children.
Tuesday.
His Honor was not amused.
I see this with that index card there and just cringe.
