Monsters in the Dark

Monsters in the Dark

<Last Week:The Long Night

 

 

Once again, I had a week dominated by a domestic project which involved shovels, dirt, hundreds of concrete curbstones, and pavers, and nothing that remotely resembled either assistance, or fun. But I did complete the clerical stuff on archive 13. The catalogue is up to date with 808 entries at 500 pages even. 

And just to set my obsessive compulsive teeth on edge, the last two packing boxes will fit archives 9 and 10, and archives 12 and 13 perfectly , but there is no way I can fit archive 11 in a box and have room for anything else.

 So that means that tomorrow, when I go down to the storage I have to leave archive 11 here and come home with a box for it so I can take it back later.  I wanted to take all the completed work to the storage in order, and in one trip. But I’m just getting silly over pointless details. Welcome to The Lost Canyon Project.

With this archive, all of the collected works from Pete Hampton’s shows and stories are recorded. I took great care to catalogue the paintings in the order that Pete stored them, but it soon became apparent that many of the sequences were scattered over several collections. There is material for “The Deep Dark Hole” in archive 11. The Pigrat sequence for today’s post was likewise scattered across several collections. Similarly, Jeff’s encounter with the old lady in Rideout Heights is spread out in several archives. As I mentioned, I’ll be going to the storage Monday morning. By next week we should have pictures from the last collection of large assorted works.

A visit to Pete’s hut in the Lost Canyon was more than an overnight camp-out, and all night bull session with your best pal.  The Whittier Hills was a world of  pristine beauty in the day, and the realm of monsters and nightmares after dark. In previous posts we’ve seen visits from the mangled corpse of Joseph the oilman, in “The Terrible Thing”. We've seen the attack of the Monster from “The Midnight Terror.” We’ve seen the Telehonepolies, strange hostile birds from “The Lost Era”, and had an encounter with Green Mist that left a man hanging headless from a tree.

But somehow, the Pigrat from “The Lost Canyon Trip” was Pete’s favorite mythical creature. When Pete talked about his show, he seldom failed to mention the frightening and fatal encounter with this unheard-of animal.

Part of the reason for the overnight camp-out in “The Lost Canyon Trip”,   was that Pete wanted to trap a California Thrasher. How does one trap a bird? Easy. Box. Bait. Stick. String. Just like in The Roadrunner. Only it really can work. (Pete did trap his bird.) But back to the camp-out.

 Something late at night is raiding the bird trap.

 Whatever it is, it's big!

 Staring Pigrat/ as big as a cocker spaniel/ climax shot/ #10

“Pig-rat/ It collapsed, It’s dead, Jeff, died of fright! Probably never saw a person before. I wonder??/shot # 14”

 

  

Why not, indeed? And then there was the even more mysterious White Pigrat:

Strange white Pig-Rat in oilwell hills / Strange white pig-rat like animal disappearing off a lonely road in the oilwell hills/ $15.

Next week: Bringing It All Back Home>

Mold To You and Other Tales

Mold to You--You Made Marks in My Driveway -- The Midnight Terror. 

As I mentioned last week, there was a lot less material on these stories than I expected. As far as I know these grizzly tales were never developed into anything like a complete show. I haven’t found a story written out like “The Deep Dark Hole”. Of course there is still much material to look through. My recollections of these pieces are sketchy, at best. I remember them more as Pete’s one-man performances.

You Made Marks in My Driveway

The villain in “You Made Marks…” was an evil farmer with a mutilated face. I believe a crabby neighbor of the Hamptons was the inspiration for the character. The evil farmer hated teen-agers because they drove hot rod cars, and messed up his dirt/gravel driveway. I can still see Pete acting the crazed old man  with his furious, wheezy high-pitched farmer voice, “YOOOOO made marks in my drivewaaay!

"An old lady tells grizzly ales left from the 1940's and early 50's

The old farmer 73 years old...

My husband does strange things to the animals on this farm. He hangs them to dry in the sun. They dry up, the withered muscle, drawn flesh, and dried blood are bleached in the hot sun on the barn door. 

The farmer made monsters out of mutilated animals, and the hapless kids he captured and killed. 

The serpentine thing dropping from the attic was made from the spine of a young boy fused to a chicken neck. 

The farmer tries to murder the trapped boys with an axe, but somehow, in the tradition of all great low-budget horror, ends up getting killed himself. 

The Midnight Terror

 

 

 -is more in the line of a traditional monster movie, but I can’t recall anything of the story behind the monster. 

The thing from the midnight terror comes crashing through the shed in the Oilwell hills. It was 9 feet tall, and a tube like a gas mask and a red eye. A low, buzzing tubey sound in the dark above the almost frightened barking of dogs.  There was some horrible thing that we were afraid of earlier that eerie night.

I can still hear Pete's impression of the creature: 

“WHRRZHHH, WHRZHHH…. WHRRZZHHH, WHRRZHHHHHH.  

 
The dog tore the eye out of the thing for The Midnight Terror. Phosphorous red on the floor.

 Of course, it dies in the fire.

Well end this archive on a slightly lighter, and less creepy note. "Mold to You"  is not  a horror movie, but a true story that Pete told often. I do remember it pretty well. I seem to remember a painting of this dream, but the picture that I found of the rock is a cut-out.

I have taken the liberty of re-creating the tale in the first person as Pete told it. 

Mold to You

I dreamed I was walking in the yard, when I tripped over a rock. The rock grew an ugly face, and cursed me in a growling voice: 

 

“Mold to you!  MOLLLD TOOO YOUUUU”

The next morning I was in the kitchen. Mother wasn’t there so I quietly opened the cupboard, took the lid off the maple syrup, and took a big gulp straight from the bottle. The syrup was spoiled, and I got a big mouthful of horrible green mold. The rock’s curse came back to me, “Mollld to youuuu.”
___________

 I have opened the sixth archive of paintings, and looked at a selection of the pieces, although I haven’t  begun an inventory or a photo session. We’ll get a look at some very early work in this next collection.

Posting next week will be delayed. My wife and I have some serious silliness planned in Las Vegas this next week.

Oh, and one final note. Ukraine? My blog statistics tell me that I have had quite a few page-views from Ukraine. Perhaps these are bots of some sort? Or do I have actual visitors from so far away? If so, please drop me a comment. I’m curious.