Reprinted with permission

Seal Beach Sun, November 13, 2003, page 11

Kate Karp

Thousands of molds were used to create the assorted doodads in Robby Russell’s home — and they broke only one.

Russell, a host for a "garage eclectic" radio show called "Robby Russell and the Nurse" and part-time sales agent for an Internet fishing company, looks like a child’s long-beloved mustachioed teddy bear. He owns what is possibly the largest collection of collectables anywhere. He has been acquiring items since 1978, and his small two-bedroom apartment is filled with snow domes, bobblehead toys, decanters, battery-operated toys, mini-bars, Hawaiian kitsch and one framed Elvis radio. His home is so crowded with curiosities that he fears that he may have to find storage space for his pinball machine.

"Things just come to me," he says.

Oologists collect birds’ eggs and bibliophiles collect books, but a word may need to be coined to define what Russell collects. "Whimwhamologist" comes to mind, as does "polychroniconophile," which could be a collector of a bunch of stuff. "Magpie" is also a real possibility, but no terminology can describe what’s in the house.

Visitors walk through the gate to the front patio, which looks like Maui on a beer buzz. Hawaiian statuettes and trinkets are everywhere. A huge native drum leans against a bamboo fence, and heads of bulls and island gods stare from every platform. An electric train waits by a station marked by cylindrical staked tiki heads in Crayola colors, and a 1950s-styled bar stands by the front door, a bucket of empty beer bottles on its surface.

Inside, things are put or hung everywhere that there is to put or hang things. Today, Russell is fiddling with his latest acquisition — a little powder blue radio with Angelina Jolie lips that move in an unsettling fashion when music plays. The collections at first glance appear to be an explosion of eclectic chaos. However, when the eyeballs finally settle down — which takes some time — it becomes obvious that, while Russell may be a member of the dying breed of beach town bohemian, he has a most of his toes firmly planted on the planet. He has methodically organized each of his collections into categories and subcategories, and can give details about each item. Few of the objects could be considered antiques, and only a couple have historical significance, but together they present an impressive gallery of camp.

"I like to hide things to see if Robby can find out what’s missing," says Russell’s radio co-host Cherril, who in her braids, cat-eye glasses and Mary Janes, looks as if she were just taken down from one of the shelves.

"He always does," she adds.

Decanters were the first things that Russell collected. He bought his first bottle in 1978 and proceeded to buy over 100 more, either because of a collector’s growing enthusiasm or a more basic drive.

"I’d buy a bottle I liked, drink whatever was in it, and put it on the shelf," Russell says.

The liquor soon was decanted into the mini-bars, which became Russell’s next obsession. Russell has two little bars concealed behind faux encyclopedia sets, a bowling ball that opens into a pump surrounded by five shot glasses, one in the shape of an accordion, and about 30 others. He has a standard bar, too, which is his pride and joy. A friend built it around a large neon sign advertising radio KACE, which Russell somehow obtained from the station.

Fifty of Russell’s 2000 snow globes are neatly displayed in a case cadged from a local restaurant. Each globe represents one of the states in the union. On the walls are off-the-wall items such as cartoon cat clocks, a big 3-D moving picture of a poodle in a gaudy frame,, and hundreds of bobblehead figures, all arranged in categories.

The bobbleheads, — or bobbing heads, as they were originally called — are the most visually interesting of the collection. The origin of the figures, depending on the source consulted, has been speculated to be China or western Europe. Bobbleheads became popular in 1950s in the form of doggies and kitties that nodded their heads out the back windows of cars; and in an episode of "Twilight Zone" titled "Nick of Time," in which a devil’s head on a fortune-telling machine menaced a traveling couple in a diner. They quickly assumed popularity as sports figures and mascots, and Russell has practically all of them, including the first player made — a papier-machė of a generic Yankee bobblehead. He also has a complete set of Pepsi mascots that he sent away for.

"I had to buy a 12-pack and mail $3.49 to get it," Russell says. "Plus, there were 36 mascots in all, and a 3-mascot limit per person. So I had to get 11 other people to send in the rest."

Besides the sports heads, there are monsters, Hawaiian dolls, rock musicians and one alien rabbi, which Russell fashioned from an alien doll after the rabbi head fell off and got lost. His one regret is not having the set of real value — four bobbing Beatle bobbles.

Because Russell wants to devote more time to his radio show, he has slowed down on collecting. This is probably fortunate, because as things are, it is difficult to locate the couch, and it comes as nearly a shock to discover that his fish tank is actually real.

"My friends tell me that they hate to see the day I move," Russell says. "I’m out of room now!"

To contact Robby Russell for information on his collection or radio show, visit www.robbyrussellshow.com, or tune in to the Internet channels alternative.nu and WPMD.org. .