A Night in the O-Gauge Zen Garden

Things have been pretty rough this past week. A family member's in the hospital (recovering at this point), there's a storm brewing at church (see yesterday's entry), crushing deadlines at work, a disagreement with our neighbor (not uncommon, he can be pretty disagreeable), all coming together to make a perfect storm of emotional turmoil.

Fortunately, I have a solution that works for me. The other night I spent about twenty minutes operating my O-gauge Zen garden (or layout, if you will). It had absolutely nothing to do with anything else that was going on in my life. For a little while, I was content just to let my imagination run free as these sturdy trains went grinding around the track.

And, for fun, I also shot some video. This week's started out a little less stressful, thanks in part to my ability to take some mental time out. Hope you enjoy the video as much as I enjoyed making it! (And I'm not kidding about "grinding." Just listen to the racket these things raise!)

High Marx - the 416 Twin Floodlight Tower

Yesterday I wrote in detail about the Louis Marx Co. 413a Switchman Tower I purchased for my O-gauge Zen garden. At the TCA meet in York I also found a Marx 416 twin floodlight tower.

Now I've already written about why I wanted these accessories. But I'd like discuss the what, and take a closer look at the piece itself.

Marx made many low-cost toy train accessories, both before and after World War II. This floodlight was one of them. It featured two bulbs in sockets that rotated both side-to-side and up-and-down, so you could position the lights however you chose.

The interesting thing about this piece is how Marx economized to keep the cost down, yet still put out a durable -- and useful -- toy train accessory.

See the similarities?
It even has  the same red paint!

Take a close look at the image at left. The tower can be divided into four distinct parts: the black base, the red square pillar, the red lattice-work tower, and the black platform on top.

The base was used for several different accessories, such as the 413a switchman's tower I also purchased at the meet. That pillar (and base) was also used for street lamps, searchlight bases and other accessories.

And look closely at that girder column. It's the same one used in the 413a switchman's tower (and a few other things besides). Need I say that the light assembly also shows up in different pieces.

Marx recycled as many components as they could to make new and different toys. In the end, they could produce attractive and good quality products at a price that made them more than competitive. Dime stores like Woolworth's and catalog retailers like Sears (the 1930's equivalents of Wal-Mart and Amazon) would often have a low-end item or two from Lionel and American Flyer, and a plethora of products from Marx.

  One thing about exposed bulbs -- they can
put out a lot of light!

The 416 floodlight tower, although manufactured in the late 1930's isn't rare by any means -- there are thousands of them floating around. And they're desirable, but not overly so. This one cost me $10, and that was fine. It's meant to go on the layout, and that's where it is today, illuminating a siding that was sitting in the shadows.

And because it's made of metal, it actually looks a little more realistic than you might think, especially when the room lights are dimmed. Marx toys may be cheap and simple, but examine them carefully, and you'll discover excellent examples of American ingenuity!

Positional instead of fixed position lights.
Marx added value where it counted.

High Marx -- the 413a Switchman Tower

Yesterday I wrote about the Marx 413a Switchman Tower and 416 Twin Floodlight Towers I picked up at the TCA York train meet. That post was about why I wanted them.

Although these aren't especially valuable or rare toy train accessories (given their both were manufactured over 70 years ago), they have -- in my opinion -- a distinct charm.

The Louis Marx Co. specialized in low-cost toys. At the same time, they made the best quality playthings as they could. The results were often ingenious when you stop to think about them.

Take the Marx 413a switchman tower.

This illuminated accessory could be placed on any O-gauge layout of the 1930's and look great -- even with Lionel equipment, the non plus ultra of toy trains. At that time, sheet metal was the primary material for these types of toys. Lionel stamped a lot of detail into the surfaces of their trains and accessories.

But stamping is expensive. Marx's solution was to economize on construction, using flat surfaces wherever possible, and instead use attractive and detailed lithography to decorate their products. The end result were trains and accessories that were almost as attractive as Lionel's offerings, but offered at a fraction of the price.

Take a close look at the switchman tower. Three sides have lithographed decoration. But there's a lot going on. A crewman throws a switch, a telegraph operator receives a message (you can tell from the cartoon electric bolts in the air) and it looks like someone's about to open the door.

These are illustrations that a child's imagination could run with!

The fourth side had a large window with a red translucent pane. Why red? Because it's a dramatic color, and because it prevents you from seeing inside the tower like a clear pane would (there's only has a light socket inside).

Why not have all the windows punched out? Because the more stamping  you do to the metal, the more it costs to create the dyes. And the frame becomes weaker and more difficult to bend into shape -- the tower would become more labor-intensive to build, plus the reject rate would rise, both adding to the cost of the piece.

One other thing: the base for the tower is the same as the bottom of the shed. Using one piece twice saves money, too.

So there it is, the Marx switchman's tower. Lithographed on three sides, illuminated on the fourth. Not rare (Marx toys were always popular and always shipped in volume), nor expensive -- this one cost me $19.00. But still a great deal of fun, and something that adds a certain retro charm to my layout.

Purchasing for an O-Gauge Zen Garden

In the foreground is the Marx Switch Tower
(ca. 1940), and in the background at right,
the Marx Floodlight Tower (ca. 1938)

I picked up a couple of items at the recent TCA Meet in York, PA for my train layout. There's a reason why I call it an O-gauge Zen garden -- it really is something that I work with in the same way one would such a garden, or a bonsai tree. It's not about what it is, but how it transitions.

In this case, I picked up two items that I had been looking for. They're two toy train accessories manufactured by Louis Marx in the late 1930's.

Now most of the 13,000+ people milling around the York Fairgrounds that weekend were looking for toy train items for a few common reasons:

1) They were looking for a bargain -- that moment when you find a piece you know is worth $1,000 marked to sell at $150 (an even that's as common as a unicorn sighting). There were some bargains, but not to that extreme.

2) They're filling in gaps in their collections. Some people are numbers-obsessed. If you have the #112 gondola car, and the #114 box car, then of course you need the #113 cattle car, also! But it doesn't have to be about numbers. Some are looking to complete sets with missing pieces, replace boxes, get all the variations of a particular model, etc. But it's still all about filling in some type of list.

3) They're hoping to upgrade. Just as with any hobby involving mechanical objects (be it vintage radios or antique cars), junkers are always welcome for the spare parts they yield -- and there are plenty of folks manufacturing reproduction parts as well.

4) They want to be first. Modern toy train manufacturers have figured out the most effective way to market to their core demographic, the collector. Put out something desirable in an extremely limited quantity -- and when it's gone, it's gone. Some manufacturers now won't even go into production unless the entire run is pre-ordered, ensuring 100% sell-through. What it means for the collector is that they have to be first in line or get left out. And this show is one of the opportunities to place that pre-order.

I was specifically looking for the Marx pieces, but because I was purchasing for a Zen garden rather than trying to fill in display shelves, I had some different reasons:

1) I wanted something tall and slender, to provide contrast to the cityscape.

2) I wanted something more toylike that realistic, to provide a better balance of real and unreal.

3) I wanted some lights that would better illuminate a dark portion of the layout.

4) I've always liked Marx lithography, and wanted at at least one pre-war example.

Not much of a match between that first and second list! But I was successful, and that's all that matters. A hobby is supposed to be fun, after all, regardless of how "fun" is defined.

And while the pieces aren't especially valuable or rare, they did exactly what I wanted them to do -- so I'm happy.

DOT in the O-Gauge Zen Garden

One of the things I've wanted to do for while was add some traffic pattern lines to the main road on my layout.

Railroad Avenue needs some lane markers, that's for sure!

After all, with all those vehicles going thither and yon, it's important for one's citizens to be safe!

(We won't talk about my choice to put a road crossing directly in front of a railroad tunnel.)

Road crossing in front of a tunnel?
That's an accident waiting to happen.

 There are a number of ways to create these lines, but I found something at Michael's craft store that gave me an idea.

It's a Sharpie oil-based paint marker. It should give me the smooth line I'm after without having to construct elaborate stencils.

The next step is to do some practice line-painting and figuring out the best way to do this. I used to work a lot with technical pens, and have experience laying down lines without having ink bleed under the ruler.

I'll have those results in my next post on the subject.

Cross stitching and circuitry

I've known some folks who cross stitch (and even tried it myself). One of the major tenants of the craft is that the back should look as neat and tidy as the front.

I thought of that the other night when I was under my train table adding a new circuit. Now the top of the layout looks nice and neat.

But underneath, it's ugly.

Really ugly.

So I'm going to do a major rewiring to get rid of all those sagging wires and  dangling connections. Aesthetic appeal isn't the sole motivator. It's a good way to recheck all the wiring and organize it for easier maintenance.

When the project's finished, I'll post some "after" pictures.

Subdividing the 0-Gauge Zen Garden - Part 4. Rocking the Details

Sometimes a rock is just a rock. Although in this case
it will be representing one much larger than itself.

In the first three parts of the series, I outlined my plan to add scenery to a section of my 0-gauge tinplate layout, and how I accomplished that. At the end of part three, the houses were built (and light-proofed), the plots were ready, the wiring installed, the road laid -- but I wasn't quite done.

Right in the corner of the area I was working on, I wanted something suggest that perhaps my mountain extended higher. I only had scant inches on either side, so building up anything was out of the question. So I turned to nature.

There was a large stone that had made its way to the surface of our field. It was mostly flat on one side, and just happened to be the right size for my space. I thoroughly washed it, and when it was dry, it was ready to use.

All I had to do was set the rock in place, and I was done. Sort of. To make it look a little more integrated, I added some lichen around it,  and that seemed to do the trick.

I also used lichen to help hide the seams where the cork met the paper mache rocks. There's still some more to do.

I'd like to add some trees at some point, and little more greenery. But for now, I'm happy with the -- representational not realistic -- results.

 The subdivision on top of the mountain. It's pretty cramped -- but so are those
houses. Property values can't be very high, located next to an airplane
beacon and overlooking an industrial area.

 I'm thinking fencing might be in order. That's quite a drop-off
from the back door.

Homes sweet homes.

Subdividing the 0-Gauge Zen Garden
Part 1: The Plan
Part 2: Douse that light!
Part 3: Paving Paradise

Subdividing the 0-Gauge Zen Garden - Part 3. Paving Paradise

After cutting out the roadway, I traced it onto the cork.

In Part 1 I outlined the plan I had for a bare section of my tinplate layout. The flat surface of my mountain would become a small subdivision (two houses -- can't get much smaller than that). In Part 2 I documented how I prepared the vintage Plasticville homes for their new location.

Now it's time to work on said location.

In one sense, the surface is already prepared. I could just plop the Cape Cods down and be done with it, but I'd like to do a little more. I want to have a road, so that the happy homeowners could have access to the larger world.

Now if this were a scale model layout, I would need to find some way to trick the eye into believing the road extends far beyond the limits of the layout. One option is to have it go into a tunnel. Another is to have it go over a rise. But since space is at a premium, I just have to show the road on the layout, and concede that it cuts off along with the rest of the scenery right at the edge of the 3' x 5' board.

I started with some scrap paper and created a template of the roadway. With the limited space I had, a simple curve sufficed. After sketching it out, I straightened up the lines with a ruler, and measured the width of the road to ensure it remained consistent. 

 I used the road tracing as a guide and drew parallel lines 1/16"
deeper in. These would be my cut lines for the cork.

I wanted the road to sit down into the ground a little, which meant I had to raise the ground around it. To get that little bit of height, I used some spare cork I had. After trimming it to fit the space, I traced my black paper road onto the cork. I then added other markings, such as locations for lights and wires, and even a couple of driveways.

I then did some careful measuring, and with a ruler and French curve did a smoother outline in pen. I then went back and drew to parallel lines 1/16" in from the road. This would be the amount of overlap of the cork onto the black paper -- which would create a curb for the road.

I traced the outer lines of the road with opaque paper, and used it to create a cutting template. That template I used to cut the black paper, which looked enough like asphalt for my purposes. I then cut the cork pieces and laid everything onto the surface.

 The cork overlapped almost precisely the amount of the
pen outline.

As you can see from the photo at left, it all looked just about the way I thought it would. Note how the outer lines correspond to the border of the paper.

After painting, the cork pieces were ready for installation. After checking everything carefully once again, I glued down the road, and then the two cork pieces. As you can see, it looks like the road has curbs on either side.

Almost there. You can see where I carved out the ramps
for the driveways.

In order to mark the driveways, I carved inclines out of the edge of the cork, and then painted those parts in a concrete grey. Not realistic, but representational of two driveways.

The wiring for the lights was already run, so all I had to do now was install the light sockets, and place the houses.

Actually there were a few other things I wanted to do. In Part 4 I'll talk about the finishing touches for this project.



Subdividing the 0-Gauge Zen Garden
Part 1: The Plan
Part 2: Douse that light!
Part 4: Rocking the Details

Subdividing the 0-Gauge Zen Garden - Part 2, Douse That Light!

Original price: 89 cents. Fifty years later: $10.00. This
Plasticville Cape Cod house is not an extremely rare item,
but still one worth preserving, I think.

In part 1 I outlined the plan for adding on to my tinplate layout. The first problem had to dow tih housing. Since this is a layout primarily of toy s rather than models, I feel I have a custodial relationship to a lot of the items  I use for it.

As much as possible, I try to make any alterations non-permanent and reversable, so that at some future date (like after I'm gone), someone else can enjoy these things as much as I do.

For the mountaintop, I wanted to use two small Cape Cod houses from Plasticville. These houses were originally offered in 1949 and were one of Plasticville's most popular products (and still being made today).

What happens when a light is placed inside a thin plastic
structure. I wanted illuminated windows, not walls!

I wanted to put lights in the houses, but as you can see from the photo, there's a real problem -- the light shines right through the walls.

Now Plasticville structures per se are quite plentiful. I could glue opaque panels to the windows, spray paint the interior walls black and glue the whole thing together. And if the houses I had were from the 1970's or later, that's what I would do.

But the houses I do own have survived in their original condition -- in their original boxes -- since at least 1951. To permanently alter them now (I think) would be a shame.

So I achieved the same results with some reversable modifications. Using a sheet of opaque paper, I made templates for each of the four walls (the window patterns are unique for each side of the house). From the template, I then made black paper lining for the walls, cutting out the window areas (right).

 After that, I cut out squares from the opaque paper to serve as window glass. (It's a little bit of a fudge, but it lets me have light shine out without having to detail the interior of the structure. Remember, the goal here isn't a realistic model of a house at night, but a representation of a house at night.)

The next step was to place the black paper outlines onto the house sides. I used double-sided tape so everything could be removed and the house restored to its original condition. I left some overhang on both the sides and the top of the paper. This allowed me to have seamless corners, ensuring that no light leaked out.

As you can see from the photo at right, I had to make sure there was enough clearance so that the pegs holding the roof in place could settle properly. I cut a rectangular piece of black paper to make a ceiling for the the house, confining the light to a black box.

As you can see from the image below, I got the desired results. You might notice a little leakage at the bottom. This was a temporary location for the house -- I just placed it over an existing light installation to get the shot. When I put the house where it belongs, I'll seal the bottom with electrical tape to ensure that the only light you see is from the windows!

The prefab Plasticville Cape Cod houses are now ready to move onto their lots. The next step is to prepare those lots.

Subdividing the 0-Gauge Zen Garden
Part 1: The Plan
Part 3: Paving Paradise
Part 4: Rocking the Details

Subdividng the 0-Gauge Zen Garden - Part 1. The Plan

Look at that nice, flat green expanse, just
waiting to be developed!

I've characterized my 0-gauge train layout as a Zen garden. It's kind of grown, each addition sort of suggesting itself by the context of the entirety of the layout. Rather than do a scale model railroad, I chose to do a tinplate layout. That means that my layout isn't realistic, it's representational. The trains I run are basically toys, and so the layout has a more toy-like rather than real-world appearance. Sure, there's some nice detail on some of the plastic buildings, but then I have a lithographed tin station parked in the corner. Why? Because I like it, and I think it fits.

When I constructed the tunnel a corner of the layout, I deliberately made it fairly boxy. I didn't want a big, tall mountain that would overshadow everything. Instead, I wanted another level to add things to (space being extremely limited on my 3' x 5' board). So there's a nice flat surface instead of a rocky crag.

And now it's time to develop the last open space on the layout. It took me a little while to figure out what I wanted. I decided a small subdivision (very small -- two houses) would be perfect.

So that's the project. Landscape the surface, bring in the structures, illuminate the structures, and complete the scenery. If this were a scale model layout, there are some standard techniques and materials that I would use for this.

But because I have a tinplate layout, there are some special challenges to this project -- starting with the houses. More on that in part 2.

Subdividing the 0-Gauge Zen Garden
Part 2: Douse that light!
Part 3: Paving Paradise
Part 4: Rocking the Details