Whatever happened to that local painter o' light?
Veronique
V.
http://www.latimes.com/business/la-fi-kinkade5mar05,0,3770067.story?c...
>From the Los Angeles Times
Dark Portrait of a 'Painter of Light'
Christian-themed artist Thomas Kinkade is accused of ruthless tactics
and
seamy personal conduct. He disputes the allegations.
By Kim Christensen
Times Staff Writer
March 5, 2006
"Thomas Kinkade is famous for his luminous landscapes and street
scenes,
those dreamy, deliberately inspirational images he says have brought
"God's
light" into people's lives, even as they have made him one of America's
most
collected artists.
A devout Christian who calls himself the "Painter of Light," Kinkade
trades
heavily on his beliefs and says God has guided his brush - and his life
-
for the last 20 years.
"When I got saved, God became my art agent," he said in a 2004 video
biography, genteel in tone and rich in the themes of faith and family
values
that have helped win him legions of fans, albeit few among art critics.
But some former Kinkade employees, gallery operators and others contend
that
the Painter of Light has a decidedly dark side.
In litigation and interviews with the Los Angeles Times, some former
gallery
owners depict Kinkade, 48, as a ruthless businessman who drove them to
financial ruin at the same time he was fattening his business
associates'
bank accounts and feathering his nest with tens of millions of dollars.
Kinkade - whose solely owned Thomas Kinkade Co. is based in Morgan
Hill,
Calif. - denies these allegations.
Last month, however, a three-member panel of the American Arbitration
Assn.
ordered his company to pay $860,000 for defrauding the former owners of
two
failed Virginia galleries. That decision marks the first major legal
setback
for Kinkade, who won three previous arbitration claims. Five more are
pending.
It's not just Kinkade's business practices that have been called into
question. Former gallery owners, ex-employees and others say his
personal
behavior also belies the wholesome image on which he's built his
empire.
In sworn testimony and interviews, they recount incidents in which an
allegedly drunken Kinkade heckled illusionists Siegfried & Roy in Las
Vegas,
cursed a former employee's wife who came to his aid when he fell off a
barstool, and palmed a startled woman's breasts at a signing party in
South
Bend, Ind.
And then there is Kinkade's proclivity for "ritual territory marking,"
as he
called it, which allegedly manifested itself in the late 1990s outside
the
Disneyland Hotel in Anaheim.
"This one's for you, Walt," the artist quipped late one night as he
urinated
on a Winnie the Pooh figure, said Terry Sheppard, a former vice
president
for Kinkade's company, in an interview.
Kinkade declined The Times' request for an interview but responded to
written questions. He labeled those accounts of his personal behavior
as
"ridiculous" and "crazy allegations."
The artist and his lawyer, Dana Levitt, contend that Sheppard, a key
witness
in the arbitration cases against Kinkade and his company, is a
disgruntled
ex-employee, noting that he lost a wrongful termination claim against
the
artist's charitable foundations in 2004. They also deny the ex-dealers'
allegations, which they say are driven by "lawyers playing the
litigation
lottery" and are "uncoupled from reality."
Kinkade, a self-described product of a broken home and a hardscrabble
childhood, once worked as a film animator and hawked his paintings at
supermarket parking lots in his hometown of Placerville, Calif. His
climb to
fame began two decades ago, when he and his wife spent their life
savings to
start making his prints.
Since then, Kinkade has spun a hugely lucrative career from his
distinctly
romantic, idealized images of street scenes, lighthouses, country
cottages
and landscapes. It is a world without sharp edges, all warm and fuzzily
aglow with setting suns and streetlights and luminescent windows.
Critics have described Kinkade's works - with titles such as "Sunset on
Lamp
light Lane" and "The Garden of Prayer" - as little more than
mass-produced
kitsch. But that has not deterred the multitudes who pay from a few
hundred
dollars for paper prints to $10,000 or more for canvas editions he has
signed and retouched.
"It's mainstream art, not art you have to look at to try to understand,
or
have an art degree to know whether it's good or not," said Mike
Koligman, a
longtime fan who with his wife owns Kinkade galleries in San Diego and
Utah.
Karen de la Carriere feels the same way. Framed Kinkades fill her
living
room walls and have transformed a long hallway into a veritable gantlet
of
glowing lithographs. Kinkade's art is both a personal passion and a
business
for the Los Angeles resident, who deals in the resale market for
Kinkades,
selling more than $25,000 of his works each month on eBay and her
website.
"This is God-given talent," she said of a favored print, "Sierra
Evening
Majesty," with its snowy peaks, red-gold skies and smoke wisping from a
cabin chimney. "He is a modern-day Leonardo da Vinci or Monet. There is
no
one in our generation who can paint like that."
Nor many who make the money he does.
>From 1997 through May 2005, Kinkade reaped more than $50 million in
royalties from his prints and licensed product lines, according to
testimony
in the recently decided arbitration case. His images adorn air
fresheners,
night lights, teddy bears, toys, tote bags, pillows, umbrellas and
La-Z-Boy
loungers, which one retailer's ad describes as "something not merely to
be
acquired, but collected - like fine art itself."
As he built his brand, Kinkade also came to embody its underlying
themes of
faith, family and life's blessings. He speaks lovingly of his childhood
sweetheart, Nanette - whom he married in 1982 - and their four
daughters,
calling his family "my proudest achievement in life."
Often, he embeds their initials or images in his paintings. Sometimes
he
joins them there.
"There's Thom on his Harley," a saleswoman at one of the original
Kinkade
galleries, on Monterey's Cannery Row, said as she showed a visitor a
print
of "San Francisco, Lombard Street." Hanging nearby was "New York, Fifth
Avenue," with Thom and one of his daughters in a '57 Chevy convertible.
Such whimsy illustrates the lighter side of the Kinkade his supporters
say
is genial and genuine, a "regular guy" with small-town roots. He also
has
raised millions for charities, including the Salvation Army and
Make-A-Wish
Foundation.
But a far more selfish portrait of the artist emerges from legal action
brought by former gallery owners against Kinkade, Media Arts Group Inc.
-
the public company he has since taken private - and some who helped
build it
into a $250-million-a-year retail juggernaut before its sales flagged
and
its stock tanked.
Ex-dealers allege that the artist used his faith - and manipulated
theirs -
to induce them to invest in Thomas Kinkade Signature Galleries,
independently owned stores licensed to deal exclusively in his work.
They
also contend he sought to devalue the company before buying it back two
years ago for $32.7 million, renaming it Thomas Kinkade Co.
Company executives and lawyers contend that a steep drop in the number
of
Signature galleries, which have dwindled to fewer than half of the 350
that
once existed, is a result of a broad decline in the limited-edition art
business, hastened by the dot-com crash, a shrinking economy and the
Sept.
11 attacks.
"Many dealers had the ability to weather the effects of the recession;
some
dealers did not," said Chief Executive Dan Byrne.
But such arguments failed to persuade the arbitration panel, which on
Feb.
23 ruled in favor of the former Virginia gallery owners, Karen
Hazlewood and
Jeffrey Spinello.
The panel found that the company and one of its executives, Richard F.
Barnett, defrauded the couple by failing to disclose pertinent
information
that would have dissuaded them from investing $122,000 to open the
first of
their two galleries in 1999.
The interim award of $860,000, based on a decision that Kinkade's
lawyer
said he would seek to void, could quadruple when interest, legal fees
and
other costs are added, said the former dealers' Michigan lawyer, Norman
Yatooma, whose firm is also handling the five pending arbitration
claims.
Kinkade himself has been dismissed from the Hazlewood-Spinello claim,
so
obligation for payment of the award would fall to his solely owned
company,
and to Barnett, said Yatooma's associate, Joseph Ejbeh.
Though the panel did not single out the artist in its fraud finding, it
wrote that he and other Media Arts Group executives had created "a
certain
religious environment designed to instill a special relationship of
trust"
with the couple, who have since divorced. The company, communicating
through
Kinkade and the others, often used terms such as "partner," "trust,"
"Christian" and "God" to convey a sense of "higher calling," the panel
wrote.
Although Kinkade has said he does not market specifically to
Christians, his
limited-edition canvas prints bear the familiar Christian fish symbol
and
are inscribed with a biblical reference, "John 3:16." He also is fond
of
quoting Matthew 5:16 - "Let your light shine before men" - at times
sounding
more evangelist than artist.
"I love to talk about my faith," he said in a deposition. "I try to
embrace
people with love, unconditional love, like Christ did."
Former dealer Jim Cote said he was hard-pressed to feel the love. He
has
filed an arbitration claim, alleging among other things that he was a
victim
of Media Arts Group's pressure to saturate the market.
"In the beginning it was fine," said Cote, of Birmingham, Mich., who
opened
his first Signature gallery in 1996. "Sales were great because Thom at
that
point was very popular and there were limited outlets to buy his art."
But as time went on, Cote alleges, Media Arts Group pushed him to open
more
galleries, threatening to set up its own outlets in his territory. Cote
eventually had three stores, all of which failed.
"This is not bread and milk," he said. "You can't have galleries on
every
corner."
Cote said his net worth of more than $3 million had been erased. Gone
are
his marriage, his house and most of his possessions. He doesn't blame
his
divorce entirely on his galleries' failure, he said, but "it certainly
didn't help."
He shut his last store in December and has filed for bankruptcy
protection.
"At this point, I've got a dog and an apartment, and that's it," Cote
said.
"This is not where I thought I'd be at 56."
Kinkade's lawyers deny Cote's allegations.
As Hazlewood, Spinello, Cote and other Signature gallery owners were
faltering, the company's stock plummeted from a high of nearly $25 a
share
to less than $3. Former dealers allege that Kinkade allowed them to
sink in
order to drive down the stock price, so he could buy back the company
at a
bargain basement price - a charge the artist and his lawyer said was
absurd.
"There was no conspiracy to shoot ourselves in the foot," Kinkade
testified
in the arbitration case that was just decided. "Nobody wanted to hurt
the
dealers."
Kinkade, who co-founded the company as Lightpost Publishing in 1989 and
took
it public in 1994, bought it back in 2004 for $4 a share. Investors who
had
put their faith and their fortunes in the Painter of Light - a moniker
he
trademarked - were left holding a mostly empty bag.
"I took a bloodbath, an absolute bloodbath," said De la Carriere, the
Los
Angeles art dealer, who said she invested her inheritance in Media Arts
Group stock at more than $20 a share.
But even as the company ran aground, Kinkade and others in top
positions
prospered, according to testimony.
>From 1997 through May 2005, Kinkade earned $53 million for his work,
the
company's assistant controller testified. That figure includes $11.8
million
from top-of-the-line "studio proofs," small-edition canvas prints that
Kinkade personally retouched, or "highlighted"- with as much as 65% of
the
profit going to him.
Kinkade wasn't the only one who got rich.
Barnett, then head of retail sales and now an executive vice president,
also
made millions as the Signature galleries were failing. Unbeknownst to
the
dealers, he reaped commissions on all art sold to them at wholesale,
averaging more than $2 million a year for 1999, 2000 and 2001,
according to
testimony.
The arbitration panel found that the company and Barnett, who ran a
training
program for prospective gallery owners known as Thomas Kinkade
University,
"painted an unrealistic and misleading picture of the prospects for
success"
and never warned potential investors of the inherent risks.
"We were told success story after success story, and of course the
'Thom
story' and his Christian views and the way he runs his life," Spinello
told
the arbitration panel in late 2004.
Just as it has revealed the inner workings of Kinkade's business, the
dealer
litigation also has delved into his personal conduct, which witnesses
testified was often at odds with the God-fearing image he projected.
In testimony and interviews with The Times, Sheppard and other former
employees said they often went with Kinkade to strip clubs and bars,
where
he frequently became intoxicated and out of control.
John Dandois, Media Arts Group's senior director of retail operations
from
1995 to 1999, testified in a hearing that the artist was a sort of
Jekyll-and-Hyde character, whose behavior worsened as the alcohol
flowed.
"Thom would be fine, he would be drinking, and then all of a sudden,
you
couldn't tell where the boundary was," he said. "And then he became
very
incoherent, and he would start cussing and doing a lot of weird stuff."
Dandois, who left the company to become chief executive of a group of
galleries owned by Kinkade's brother, Patrick, recounted that about six
years ago the artist was so intoxicated during a performance by
Siegfried &
Roy in Las Vegas that people seated nearby moved away from him.
"I think it was Roy or Siegfried or whatever had a codpiece in his
leotards," Dandois testified. "And so when the show started, Thom just
started yelling, 'Codpiece, codpiece,' and had to be quieted by his
mother
and Nanette."
At other times, Kinkade could be downright nasty, Dandois testified,
recalling an incident in which Dandois' wife tried to help the
allegedly
inebriated artist to his feet in a bar.
"He had been falling down, and he fell off the stool, and he was laying
on
the ground and just looked up at her and flipped her the bird and told
her,
you know, just to 'F you' several times," Dandois testified.
In an interview, Sheppard, who often accompanied Kinkade on the road,
recounted a trip to Orange County in the late 1990s for the artist's
appearance on the "Hour of Power" television show at the Crystal
Cathedral
in Garden Grove. On the eve of the broadcast, Sheppard said, he and
Kinkade
returned to the Disneyland Hotel after a night of heavy drinking. As
they
walked to their rooms, according to Sheppard and another person who was
there, Kinkade veered toward a nearby figure of a Disney character.
"Thom wanders over to Winnie the Pooh and decides to 'mark his
territory,' "
Sheppard told The Times.
In a deposition, the artist alluded to his practice of urinating
outdoors,
saying he "grew up in the country" where it was common. When pressed
about
allegedly relieving himself in a hotel elevator in Las Vegas, Kinkade
said
it might have happened.
"There may have been some ritual territory marking going on, but I
don't
recall it," he said.
Kinkade's memory also was fuzzy when he was asked during the
arbitration
proceedings about a signing party in Indiana that went awry in August
2002.
Held at a South Bend hotel, the party began sedately enough as Kinkade
met
with a group of Signature gallery owners to sign stacks of prints. Some
who
were there say it was a goodwill gesture by the artist to smooth
relations
with dealers, who could sell the signed pieces at a premium.
After the larger group dispersed, Kinkade and others moved to a smaller
room
for a private signing with Michigan gallery owner Cote and some of his
employees. Champagne was served, then hard liquor. By various accounts,
most
of the partyers overindulged, including Kinkade and Cote.
At one point, according to testimony and interviews with Cote and three
others who were there, Kinkade polled the men in the room about their
preferences in women's anatomies.
"He was having a conversation with the men in the room about whether
they
like breasts or butts," said Lori Kopec, Cote's director of gallery
operations, who also testified about the party. "There were only two
women
in the room, and I was very uncomfortable at that point."
It was during that bawdy discussion, according to arbitration records,
that
Kinkade turned his attention to the other woman.
"He approached [her] and he palmed her breasts and he said, 'These are
great
tits!' " Ernie Dodson, another Cote employee, told The Times, adding
that he
drank no alcohol that night. "I was just standing in the corner in
amazement. It was like, holy cow!"
The woman whom Kinkade allegedly fondled confirmed to The Times that he
touched her breasts without her consent. She spoke on condition of
anonymity, saying she was embarrassed and concerned for her family's
privacy.
Cote and Kopec said they also saw the alleged groping.
"She let out a yelp and backed away," Kopec said. "That's when I knew
he had
actually touched her."
Kinkade testified in a deposition that excessive drinking and "some
normal
rowdy talk" had taken place, but when confronted with the groping
allegation, he denied touching the woman.
"But you've got to remember," he said, "I'm the idol to these women who
are
there. They sell my work every day, you know. They're enamored with any
attention I would give them. I don't know what kind of flirting they
were
trying to do with me. I don't recall what was going on that night."
In response to The Times' written questions, Kinkade did not address
any
specific incident.
"It does disappoint me when people I have tried to help and befriend
make
crazy allegations about me," he said. "I am a big fan of imagination,
but
the specific allegations you have described to me are ridiculous and I
feel
like the victim of a legal stalker."
He described himself as "an average, hard-working guy who just happens
to be
a famous artist" and said he didn't take himself too seriously.
In the recent arbitration case, he also testified that he had never
claimed
to be perfect.
"Book of Ecclesiastes says enjoy yourself, have a glass of wine, for
this is
God's will for you," he said. "It's never consistent with God's will
that we
behave in a sinful way; however, God also loves us and accepts us and
understands that at times we have our failings."
-------
Copyright 2006 Los Angeles Times
--
Veronique Chez Sheep
Queenie
wrote:
>His gallery in downtown Santa Cruz is now a pet supplies store.
He's prolly going to be running for governor.
~Queenie
"My fans name babies after me," Kinkade told USA Today last month.
"People are moved by what I do. If the critics want to attack, let
them attack. I must, as Christ himself said, be about my Father's
work."
John Mann
Veronique wrote:
> His gallery in downtown Santa Cruz is now a pet supplies store.
>
> V.
>
>
> http://www.latimes.com/business/la-fi-kinkade5mar05,0,3770067.story?c...
>
> >From the Los Angeles Times
>
> Dark Portrait of a 'Painter of Light'
>
> Christian-themed artist Thomas Kinkade is accused of ruthless tactics
> and
> seamy personal conduct. He disputes the allegations.
Myself, I always figured he was some kind of wacky closet Satanist.
John Mann
Queenie wrote:
> On 8 Mar 2006 08:02:27 -0800, "Veronique" <veroniq...@yahoo.com>
> wrote:
>
> >His gallery in downtown Santa Cruz is now a pet supplies store.
>
> He's prolly going to be running for governor.
>
> ~Queenie
>
> "My fans name babies after me," Kinkade told USA Today last month.
> "People are moved by what I do.
So, parents who name their babies "Tom" are...naming them after him?
A postcard painter who considers himself a Rembrandt or something. I
love the modern world.
Veronique
He reminds me of that New Age poet from the '70s, Rod somebody? Except
Kincaide has that truly weird twisted xtianity thing thrown in. I
always figured people who collected his prints also have a house full
of Lilliput Lane collectible miniature cottages
http://www.lilliputlane.co.uk/index2.htm
Although knowing Kincaide's marketing machine, I'm sure he has his own
set for sale. //googles// Oooh, he does, on his website complete with
convenient links to buying Kincaide merchandise (I can't quite call it
art) by price.
http://collectiblekinkade.com/villages_hometown.htm (click on "buy now"
to see the whole fabulous set!)
V.
--
Veronique Chez Sheep
Julian Macassey
>
>
> He reminds me of that New Age poet from the '70s, Rod somebody? Except
> Kincaide has that truly weird twisted xtianity thing thrown in. I
> always figured people who collected his prints also have a house full
> of Lilliput Lane collectible miniature cottages
> http://www.lilliputlane.co.uk/index2.htm
>
>
> Although knowing Kincaide's marketing machine, I'm sure he has his own
> set for sale. //googles// Oooh, he does, on his website complete with
> convenient links to buying Kincaide merchandise (I can't quite call it
> art) by price.
>
I have always wanted to have a pile of real "Disposable
income". I would have one room in my house, the "Kitcsh room". It
would have Kincaide art and lots of stuff from the Franklin Mint,
Bradford Exchange and other emporiums of bad taste.
Las Vegas has always been a good place to see lots of bad
taste. Those lucky winners have to spend their winnings on
something. Las Vegas is after all the Mafia's idea of oppulence.
--
"We should invade their countries, kill their leaders and
convert them to Christianity." - Anne Coulter on Muslims
Geoff Miller
Veronique <veroniq...@yahoo.com> writes:
> He reminds me of that New Age poet from the '70s, Rod somebody?
McKuen.
> Except Kincaide has that truly weird twisted xtianity thing thrown
> in.
I never knew he was a Xtian (or anything else about him) until this
thread hit.
> I always figured people who collected his prints also have a house
> full of Lilliput Lane collectible miniature cottages
> http://www.lilliputlane.co.uk/index2.htm
Hey, at least they're not Hummel figurines.
Geoff
--
"Incidentally, I recently read about a sex-toy shop that described
their smallest-sized dildo as the 'Porsche Driver.'" --Pat Steppic
Queenie
wrote:
>He reminds me of that New Age poet from the '70s, Rod somebody?
Hey, hey, hey... watch it there. You're talking about Rod McKuen.
OK, you asked for it....
A Cat Named Sloopy
1 | For a while the only earth that Sloopy knew was in her sandbox.
Two rooms on Fifty-fifth Street were her domain. Every night she'd sit
in the window among the avocado plants waiting for me to come home (my
arms full of canned liver and love). We'd talk into the night then
contented but missing something, She the earth she never knew me the
hills I ran while growing bent. Sloopy should have been a cowboy's cat
with prairies to run not linoleum and real-live catnip mice. No one to
depend on but herself. I never told her but in my mind I was a
midnight cowboy even then. Riding my imaginary horse down Forty-second
Street, going off with strangers to live an hour-long cowboy's life,
but always coming home to Sloopy, who loved me best.
2 | A dozen summers we lived against the world. An island on an
island. She'd comfort me with purring I'd fatten her with smiles. We
grew rich on trust needing not the beach or butterflies I had a friend
named Ben Who painted buildings like Roualt men. He went away. My
laughter tired Lillian after a time she found a man who only smiled.
Only Sloopy stay and stayed. Winter. Nineteen fifty-nine. Old men walk
their dogs. Some are walked so often that their feel leave little pink
tracks in the soft gray snow. Women fur on fur elegant and easy only
slightly pure hailing cabs to take them round the block and back. Who
is not a love seeker when December comes? even children pray to Santa
Claus. I had my own love safe at home and yet I stayed out all one
night the next day too.
3 | They must have thought me crazy screaming Sloopy Sloopy as the
snow came falling down around me. I was a madman to have stayed away
one minute more than the appointed hour. I'd like to think a golden
cowboy snatched her from the window sill, and safely saddlebagged she
rode to Arizona. She's stalking lizards in the cactus now perhaps
bitter but free. I'm bitter too and not a free man any more. Once was
a time, in New York's jungle in a tree, before I went into the world
in search of other kinds of love nobody owned me but a cat named
Sloopy. Looking back perhaps she's been the only human thing that ever
gave back love to me.
Rod McKuen, 'Listen to the Warm'.
~Queenie
Veronique
Julian Macassey wrote:
> Las Vegas has always been a good place to see lots of bad
> taste. Those lucky winners have to spend their winnings on
> something. Las Vegas is after all the Mafia's idea of oppulence.
I thought lucky winners bought a power boat first thing...'least that's
what lottery winners do.
Julian Macassey
Those ones with the glitter clearcoat?
Geoff Miller
Julian Macassey <jul...@tele.com> writes:
> I have always wanted to have a pile of real "Disposable
> income". I would have one room in my house, the "Kitcsh room". It
> would have Kincaide art and lots of stuff from the Franklin Mint,
> Bradford Exchange and other emporiums of bad taste.
I don't often see the phrase "disposable income" anymore. It's
been largely supplanted by the more sober-sounding "*discretionary*
income," which, alas, doesn't have nearly the same overtones of money
burning a hole in your pocket.
"Bad sneakers and a pina colada my friend
Walkin' on the Avenue near Radio City with a
Transistor and a large sum of money to spend..."
Anyway, I have several of those Franklin Mint model cars. They
hooked me when they came out with a model of the '57 Ford Fairlane
Skyliner, complete with working retractable hardtop. I went through
a brief phase and bought a few more after that. As with Chick Pub-
lications, the outfit that makes those warped Jeezemoid tracts written
for people with room-temperature IQs, once you buy something from them,
the Franklin Mint will keep you on their mailing list for years.
And most of what they offer *is* the epitome of kitsch -- commemor-
ative plates and medallions, figurines, swords, and such. They
truly have something for everybody. Admittedly, I almost sprang
for the Vietnam Huey gunship, complete with machine guns in the
doors and a big shark's mouth painted on the fuselage ("Charlie
don't surf!"), but I came to my senses in due course. It would've
been a pain in the ass to dust, if nothing else.
The "medallion" subset of kitsch collecting has always mystified me.
You can buy one of a "limited edition" (as in, "We'll probably stop
making these someday") of medallions commemorating some person, place
or event, and packed in foam in a plastic display case. Medallions
aren't the sort of thing that's really amenable to display on a shelf
in one's den or living room, so people must buy them because they
satisfy some basic, Ferengi-like acquisition impulse.
There's also the set-completion thing, best exemplified, of course,
by Beanie Babies. Just knowing that there's an assortment of some
inherently worthless tchotke, the supply of which has been artific-
ially constrained, is enough to send certain people into intergal-
actic hyperdrive. An extreme example: http://tinyurl.com/jhvlg .
For a glimpse into the strange world of collecting, you could do a
lot worse than to check out the Antiques And Collectibles Show at the
San Mateo County Event Center (nee "fairgrounds") that's held four
times a year. There's a lot of cool stuff in there, including things
you've probably forgotten even existed. But there's a lot of just
plain junk, too -- items that can't help but make you wonder why the
hell anybody would want to hang onto them.
Geoff Miller
Veronique <veroniq...@yahoo.com> wrote:
>> I thought lucky winners bought a power boat first thing...
>> 'least that's what lottery winners do.
Julian Macassey <jul...@tele.com> responds:
> Those ones with the glitter clearcoat?
Oh, Christ; I call those "silly boats." All they're good for
is going fast, sucking fuel, and making noise. They don't
even have anyplace to pee, except over the side. I'd certainly
get a boat if I won the lottery, but it'd be a Grand Banks or
something classy and substantial like that.
I was on my way home from somewhere a few years ago, and stopped
in at Tower Park Marina (http://www.towerparkresort.com) on Hwy.
12 west of Lodi to take a leak and stretch my legs. I don't know
what the occasion was -- maybe the Labor Day weekend -- but the
place was overrun with beer-soaked lumpenprolatarian types --
the kind of guys who drive big pickup trucks with racks on them
-- and their "silly boats." The atmosphere of the normally-tranquil
Delta was being rent asunder by a cacophany of loud rock music and
humongous V-8 engines being revved for no particular reason. These
were the people a former boss of mine used to refer to as "the element,"
as in "undesirable."
Veronique
Geoff Miller wrote:
> Julian Macassey <jul...@tele.com> writes:
>
> > I have always wanted to have a pile of real "Disposable
> > income". I would have one room in my house, the "Kitcsh room". It
> > would have Kincaide art and lots of stuff from the Franklin Mint,
> > Bradford Exchange and other emporiums of bad taste.
>
> I don't often see the phrase "disposable income" anymore. It's
> been largely supplanted by the more sober-sounding "*discretionary*
> income," which, alas, doesn't have nearly the same overtones of money
> burning a hole in your pocket.
>
> "Bad sneakers and a pina colada my friend
> Walkin' on the Avenue near Radio City with a
> Transistor and a large sum of money to spend..."
>
> Anyway, I have several of those Franklin Mint model cars. They
> hooked me when they came out with a model of the '57 Ford Fairlane
> Skyliner, complete with working retractable hardtop. I went through
> a brief phase and bought a few more after that. As with Chick Pub-
> lications, the outfit that makes those warped Jeezemoid tracts written
> for people with room-temperature IQs, once you buy something from them,
> the Franklin Mint will keep you on their mailing list for years.
Hey, I have a Franklin Mint VW Bug! My mom got it for me many years
past.
>
> And most of what they offer *is* the epitome of kitsch -- commemor-
> ative plates and medallions, figurines, swords, and such. They
> truly have something for everybody. Admittedly, I almost sprang
> for the Vietnam Huey gunship, complete with machine guns in the
> doors and a big shark's mouth painted on the fuselage ("Charlie
> don't surf!"), but I came to my senses in due course. It would've
> been a pain in the ass to dust, if nothing else.
They had a series of art horses, and one of art cats back in the '80s.
Same sort of reaction: kinda interesting, but then what to do with it?
Because I have several subscriptions to equine industry mags,
occasionally I'll get a flyer for horses airbrushed onto "collectible"
plates or some such.
>
> There's also the set-completion thing, best exemplified, of course,
> by Beanie Babies. Just knowing that there's an assortment of some
> inherently worthless tchotke, the supply of which has been artific-
> ially constrained, is enough to send certain people into intergal-
> actic hyperdrive. An extreme example: http://tinyurl.com/jhvlg .
Hey, don't talk that way about my mother.
>
> For a glimpse into the strange world of collecting, you could do a
> lot worse than to check out the Antiques And Collectibles Show at the
> San Mateo County Event Center (nee "fairgrounds") that's held four
> times a year. There's a lot of cool stuff in there, including things
> you've probably forgotten even existed. But there's a lot of just
> plain junk, too -- items that can't help but make you wonder why the
> hell anybody would want to hang onto them.
Hey, field trip!
John Mann
Veronique wrote:
> He reminds me of that New Age poet from the '70s, Rod somebody?
McKuen.
And let us not disparage the name "Rod McKuen" with comparisons to this
bloated idiot "Painter of Blight".
bobbi_...@yahoo.com
> > > I have always wanted to have a pile of real "Disposable
> > > income". I would have one room in my house, the "Kitcsh room". It
> > > would have Kincaide art and lots of stuff from the Franklin Mint,
> > > Bradford Exchange and other emporiums of bad taste.
> > Anyway, I have several of those Franklin Mint model cars. They
> > hooked me when they came out with a model of the '57 Ford Fairlane
> > Skyliner, complete with working retractable hardtop. I went through
> > a brief phase and bought a few more after that. As with Chick Pub-
> > lications, the outfit that makes those warped Jeezemoid tracts written
> > for people with room-temperature IQs, once you buy something from them,
> > the Franklin Mint will keep you on their mailing list for years.
> > And most of what they offer *is* the epitome of kitsch -- commemor-
> > ative plates and medallions, figurines, swords, and such. They
> > truly have something for everybody. Admittedly, I almost sprang
> > for the Vietnam Huey gunship, complete with machine guns in the
> > doors and a big shark's mouth painted on the fuselage ("Charlie
> > don't surf!"), but I came to my senses in due course. It would've
> > been a pain in the ass to dust, if nothing else.
> They had a series of art horses, and one of art cats back in the '80s.
> Same sort of reaction: kinda interesting, but then what to do with it?
You place the crap, er art, on a shelf and allow it to collect dust.
Here at the local junior^h community college they display dust
collectors that
students can make for credit. My most favorite of favorties are...
well, I have no
goddamn clue what they're called. They're hollow balls made out of
clay. After
they fire it once, a pattern is laid out on it with something or other
and it's fired
again, and while still hot,dumped into something filled with pine
needles so that
it'll turn from white to black and have a pattern on it. They look
nice. But after...
oh, 30 seconds or so, you think "what goddman use is that?" Well, it's
useful for collecting dust -- it is kitch after all.
Bobbi