The Big Clock Incident
Walt Akers
After reading David Mathias' outstanding review of the Gamble
House, I got to thinking about a trip that my family had taken not too
long ago...
I remember the first time I saw a picture of the clock at
Grove Park Inn. It was a reproduction in the Stickley Catalog
(No, I can't afford to buy anything from Stickley either - but,
the catalog's worth the ten bucks just to look at the pictures).
Anyway, I looked at the picture of the clock in the catalog and
instantly assumed from the dimensions that it was a mantel
clock. I would learn later that this was a severe under
estimation...
The clock in the Great Hall of the Inn is an eight foot
tall, four foot wide behemouth of quartersawn oak, copper and
testosterone. Elbert Hubbard (of Roycroft fame) had designed it
for the resort's grand opening in 1913. I looked at the picture
in the book... I looked at the empty corner in my living room...
I looked back at the picture again --- I'm not certain what
happened next, but, as with all great epiphanies, I started down
the long, spiraling path to certain disaster and picked up the
phone.
Now, allow me to preface this by saying, any of you that
have bushels of money that you want to throw away with both hands
should definitely consider spending a weekend at the Grove Park
Inn.
The first thing that I noticed about the reservations
clerk was that she spoke with a very acute southern drawal...
Being good southerners, we exchanged the usual pleasantries and
then began to meander down to business. After 20 minutes of
discussing the weather in Asheville, the smell of fresh cut
flowers and what high school she had attended, we finally
addressed the issue of cost.
I tried to disguise my horror when she revealed that the
only rooms they had left were suites and the price of a single
night in "America's First Grand Hotel" would cost me a spleen
rupturing $375.00. I pressed my intestines back in place and asked
if they had anything --- more economical (I wanted to say cheaper,
but I'm sure she would have hung up on me).
She paused (thoughtfully) and then told me, "Well... there
are a few rooms in the older part of the Inn. They don't have a
view, or antique furnishings, and the wing is currently undergoing
a major remodel... I suppose I can let you have one of THOSE
rooms for $130.00 a night."
Now we were talking. I didn't care if they put us in a
broom closet... I was there to see that big clock. I booked the
room and the screws tightened another turn as I tried to figure
out how to tell Helga that we were going to drive 500 miles with
the children to spend Easter weekend in the collapsing west-wing
of a hotel in the Appalachian Mountains --- needless to say, I was
prepared to go alone. Strangely, she was very receptive to the
idea of getting away from my family for the holiday weekend.
A few weeks later we arrived at the hotel...
There is only one word that can describe walking in to the
Grove Park Inn on a spring day --- aromatic. There were flowers
everywhere... the building was littered with flowers. Every square
inch of floor space (save a small foot path to the front desk) was
jammed with flowers. I put young Daniel on my shoulders to look
over the foliage in search of the clock... We found it.
There, behind a flower-wrapped, red rope sat the object of
my obsession... The only reason (other than the funeral of a
wealthy relative) that I would spend 8 hours in a car with my
family. I was enthralled. The boy and I parted company with Helga
and my daughter and made a bee-line through the jungle towards the
giant time piece.
Frankly, I knew that I wasn't suppose to touch the
clock (otherwise, why would they have a rope around it.) So,
being a civilized man, I stood back, pulled out a piece of paper
and started scribbling wildly. I took pictures... I measured the
rocks on the wall behind it, trying to get a point of reference...
I measured Daniel and had him stand next to the rocks behind the
clock and took yet more pictures. Still, there was something
missing --- a critical dimension that was being missed. The clock
taunted me... like Tom Sawyers, it had drawn a line in the sand
and was daring me to cross it.
Now, those of you who are without sin can cast the first
stone, but, I had come there to measure that clock... and by God,
that clock was going to be measured...
Between a father and son, there is one phrase that is
more significant - more magical - than any other in the
human experience. Four simple words that solidify the bond
between man and boy like no others can... What is it?
"I need a diversion."
Most boys wait there entire life to hear their father
utter that one sentence. It is a guarantee that the old man is
about to do something either idiotic, ignorant, illegal or
insane, and anything that they do to cover for him (short of a
felony) will be approved of - even applauded... It's the 'Get
Out Of Jail Free' card of childhood. Even my 2 1/2 year old
son understood the significance of the moment... and rose to the
occasion.
Thirty seconds later the boy was stripped naked and
running full-bore through the Great Hall. Dancing through
the flower display like Adam in the Garden of Eden and yowling
at the top of his lungs... It was a sight to behold. Being a good
(perhaps passable) father, I checked to ensure that my wife was
aprised of the situation before I continued. In the few seconds
that I watched her, Helga's face turned from its usual pasty
white, to an even more pasty white and then bright crimson
before she darted from the reservation counter toward the boy
as other arriving patrons stood watching --- agast.
We were 'go' for launch.
In an instant I was under the rope and on the clock like
white on rice... I measured everything I could reach... I clung
to the rock wall and measured things I couldn't reach. If the
door hadn't been locked, I would have climbed inside and taken
pictures of the entrails --- all while my son (of whom I am very,
very proud) elluded his mother and danced naked through the
Great Hall. It was a moment of perfect harmony... one that
couldn't last.
You know what's wrong with modern America --- hidden
video cameras. Followed closely by big, well dressed men with
walkie-talkies... I won't bore you with the discussion that
followed in the manager's office, but suffice it to say that
we watched quite a bit of television before he returned our
deposit and recommended that we find other accomodations.
Helga's face was contorted with rage as we pulled
into the Asheville Travelodge. Daniel, on the other hand, was
wearing a smile that you couldn't pry off with a crowbar. I may
be wrong, but, I think that's what family vacations are all
about...
Walt
Rob Stokes
wife and two year old about a little trip I've been schem^^^^ planning...
Rob
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Walt Akers <twiste...@home.com> wrote in message
news:39D12DD6...@home.com...
Bob Becker
That story made my day.
"Walt Akers" <twiste...@home.com> wrote in message
news:39D12DD6...@home.com...
Larry Jaques
scrawled:
>Hey:
>
> After reading David Mathias' outstanding review of the Gamble
>House, I got to thinking about a trip that my family had taken not too
>long ago...
-minor snippage-
> Helga's face was contorted with rage as we pulled
>into the Asheville Travelodge. Daniel, on the other hand, was
>wearing a smile that you couldn't pry off with a crowbar. I may
>be wrong, but, I think that's what family vacations are all
>about...
Luckily, I had no coffee in my mouth at the time I started
reading that post. Thanks again for a great story with
hilarious visualizations.
I'll give you a 9.9 on that one.
--
Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.
----
http://diversify.com Comprehensive Website Development
Engineering
mind. What a great story......
--
Jon Endres, P.E.
West Mountain Engineering Co.
w...@sover.net
Walt Akers <twiste...@home.com> wrote in message
news:39D12DD6...@home.com...
Owen Lowe
<twiste...@home.com> wrote:
> In an instant I was under the rope and on the clock like
>white on rice...
So yous gointa post dem plans on the inernit?
You are a wonderful storyteller - absolutely fabulous tale.
--
Owen Lowe and his Fly-by-Night Copper Company
Offering a shim to fix Porter-Cable 557 type 2 fence design:
<http://www.flybynightcoppercompany.com> or
<http://www.teleport.com/~lnonlowe/pc557/shiminfo.html>
Paul T. Radovanic
>Being a good
>(perhaps passable) father,
Walt, you are a twisted individual, and I so admire that in a person.
I'd write more, but I can't see through the tears of laughter....
Keep 'em coming!
Paul Rad
Jeff Thieme
>It's not too often that I laugh that much at my monitor.
>That story made my day.
>
>
Mine too. Keep them coming, Walt.
John Mc
You are indeed a gem of a story teller.
John McCuiston
H David Mathias
Walt,
I laughed so hard I literally cried. Hilarious. You missed your
calling my friend.
Did you get enough measurements to make a drawing of the clock?
David Mathias
Rob Stokes
measurements!!
Rob
"H David Mathias" <dm...@cis.ohio-state.edu> wrote in message
news:8qt8p2$2tb$1...@news.cis.ohio-state.edu...
charlie b
("you'll shoot your eye out") he most definitely could
have. This guy can convey images way better than
Industrial Light and Magic could ever hope for and
he does it with "just words". Would particularly
like to hear the story of how he met HELGA.
Just when I need it Walt posts another installment
of his very interesting life and his warped way of
recalling key portions of it.
THANK YOU WALT!
I did something like this at an exhibit of Rene
Lalique jewelry at the Palace of the Legion of
Honor in SF. Big signs everywhere say "NO CAMERAS
ALLOWED!". Bribed a guard with a promise of copies
of the pictures and was discretely photographing
everything in the exhibit. A woman saw what I was
doing and came over. "My husband was chastised for
just bringing his camera into the exhibit. How did
you get permission to take pictures?" she asked.
"I brought a note from GOD." I responded with all
the sincerity I could put in my voice and facial
expression.
You could see the wheels turning in her head as she
processed that bit of information. "Oh." was all
she finally could come up with.
But I've got slides of Lalique pieces that aren't in
any book I've found so far.
(walt's post in it's entirety follows for those who
missed it earlier)
Engineering
Walt Akers <twiste...@home.com> wrote in message
news:8qu2r8$tda$1...@nnrp1.deja.com...
> In article <39D1DE...@accesscom.com>,
> char...@accesscom.com wrote:
> > If Walt didn't write the script for "A Christmas Story"
> > ("you'll shoot your eye out") he most definitely could
> > have. This guy can convey images way better than
> > Industrial Light and Magic could ever hope for and
> > he does it with "just words". Would particularly
> > like to hear the story of how he met HELGA.
>
> Well, thanks Charlie... its going to be hard to live up
> to that.
>
> On the other issue, I'd be more than happy to tell you the
> story of how Helga and I came to be 'Man and Wife' --- however,
> her recollection of the event differs significantly from mine
> and (since she frequently scans the newsgroup to monitor my
> behavior) somethings, as they say, are better left unsaid...
>
> It did involve one of us running the other one off the
> freeway, though...
>
> I've said to much --- I've got to go now.
>
> Walt
>
>
> --
> Walt Akers
> twiste...@home.com
>
>
> Sent via Deja.com http://www.deja.com/
> Before you buy.
Eric Anderson
story.
Engineering wrote:
> Walt, we've gotta hear this one........
>
> Walt Akers <twiste...@home.com> wrote in message
> news:8qu2r8$tda$1...@nnrp1.deja.com...
> > In article <39D1DE...@accesscom.com>,
> > char...@accesscom.com wrote:
> > > If Walt didn't write the script for "A Christmas Story"
> > > ("you'll shoot your eye out") he most definitely could
> > > have. This guy can convey images way better than
> > > Industrial Light and Magic could ever hope for and
> > > he does it with "just words". Would particularly
> > > like to hear the story of how he met HELGA.
> >
Don Rumrill
thought I was having a heart attack or something. That story ranks with
Pat McManus' "The Grasshopper Trap", which should have won a Pullet
Surprise. I've never used the "Distraction Ploy", but have used the "We
gotta make a plan here" with similar but not so spectacular results when
my daughter was young enough for me to be the smartest man on the
planet. Since then I have lost so much IQ that mud carp are considered
my intellectual superiors. They tell me that in a few years after she
gets out of college, I will regain enough brains to become my usual
sub-normal "huh?" self.
Don
Walt Akers wrote:
>
>
Walt Akers
> ("you'll shoot your eye out") he most definitely could
> have. This guy can convey images way better than
> Industrial Light and Magic could ever hope for and
> he does it with "just words". Would particularly
> like to hear the story of how he met HELGA.
Well, thanks Charlie... its going to be hard to live up
paul womack
>
> If Walt didn't write the script for "A Christmas Story"
> ("you'll shoot your eye out") he most definitely could
> have. This guy can convey images way better than
> Industrial Light and Magic could ever hope for and
> he does it with "just words". Would particularly
> like to hear the story of how he met HELGA.
>
> Just when I need it Walt posts another installment
> of his very interesting life and his warped way of
> recalling key portions of it.
>
> THANK YOU WALT!
>
> I did something like this at an exhibit of Rene
> Lalique jewelry at the Palace of the Legion of
> Honor in SF. Big signs everywhere say "NO CAMERAS
> ALLOWED!". Bribed a guard with a promise of copies
> of the pictures and was discretely photographing
> everything in the exhibit.
Since I know from another thread there are some camera geeks
reading this group, may I add something here. Not as funny
as the other stories, I'm afraid. I've taken several pictures
were they're not allowed. How?
Olympus XA.
It's a camera the size of a packet of marlboro, aperture
priority, range-finder, near silent shutter, wide(ish) amgle
lens.
The trick is to "aim" by holding it at chest hight.
Looking through the viewfinder tends to attract attention.
And, yes, to all the camera buffs out there, I know it's
a poor mans Contax 'T'. I can't afford a Contax 'T'.
http://cameraquest.com/xa4.htm
http://brashear.phys.appstate.edu/lhawkins/photo/xa.faq.html
BugBear
John Mc
My wife read this story and was giggling the whole time. After she finished
reading her first question was "Is his wife's name really Helga"
John McCuiston
Jeff LaCoss
Thanks,
Jeff
Scott Brownell
we could get copies of that video tape?? It gotta be worth
millions!!
Scott