I saw a great sight while driving home from FUTURES last night: At about 1,500 feet altitude, cruising "low and slow" with elegant power and deep history, was the B17 bomber I planned to visit and photograph with my friend Tom. It was an awesome vision - that flying weapon of the Past.

Sunday: What a long, great morning. Long because I was up at 6:30 a.m. and on the road by 8:15. Long because I had to wait for Tom at a halfway point to be picked up and us take his screaming-fast Mercedes to the rural side of another city to reach their little municipal airport.

Then the fun began.

B-17 !

(For the full photo tour: http://futuresantiques.com/items/main.php?g2_view=core.ShowItem&g2_itemId=17589

First of all, WOW. What a presence. Photos are one thing, but let me tell you, it's another creature "in the round".

I love design-thought. I respect design that sets out to meet a goal, and succeeds. This is one reason War Machines interest me - their total lack of nonsense and iffiness.

The B-17(G) was designed for one reason: to more effectively kill those who were trying to kill us. It was not for supply transport, mail delivery, or passenger hauling. It was a 4,800 horsepower flying weapon, bristling with machine guns like needles on a cactus, and ready to drop bombs from its belly to the targets below.

Tom and I walked repeatedly around and under it. We both shot hundreds of photos. We also spoke with other enthusiasts of photography and history, and have swapped emails/websites to see each others shots. Tom and another guy have the mega-equipment, where I was shooting mere "snappers"... but it's all for the love, baby, The Love.

The experience of watching the plane get prepped and fired up was really great too. A crew is needed. One heavy propeller at a time is slowly hand-rotated about 10 revolutions by 2 men to get the oil up and circulated in each of the four the engines before they're started. Then, with gauges checked, and everyone on the ground at a safe distance, one engine at a time is fired up. A huge blast of blue oil-burning smoke pours from the engine pipe and nearly hides view of the plane. Each engine winds up separately in a steely, banging, clattering symphony of exploding fuel and pumping steel. The odor of burning oil and fuel is rich and mysteriously nostalgic. It is the odor of the past... a no-nonsense, balls-to-the-wall*, kill-or-be-killed world effort to halt Evil.

The wind from the props blew my sunglasses (laying on the pavement) away, where another person caught them. I'd just replaced them. I hadn't even noticed. I was totally "focused" on this machine.

When one of the ground crew got all the paying passengers together on the tarmac, I joined just to listen. (The flight over the region was at 150 mph at 1,500 feet altitude - a great, close, slow cruise - but it cost $460., which goes to the maintenance and travels costs of this antique. Unfortunately, neither Tom nor I had anything like $460., so we soaked up all the ground experiences possible.)

"You'll be able to sit in the lucite gunner nose of the plane, at the side machine gun windows, and poke you head up out of the top of the plane from another gun location. Don't wear your hat or sunglasses. They'll be gone. Keep to the thin center boards on the floor. If you step off of them over the bomb doors, you'll drop through and become our bomb. Don't grab the control wires running along the ceiling. Not only could you affect the flying, but they may take your hand off. You cannot fit into the belly pod or the tail gun section." (Smaller men were used for these.)

All passengers had to sign forms releasing the B-17 crew of any responsibility. Tom and I both agreed it'd be much cooler to die in a B-17 crash than be hit by some idiot on a cell phone driving their SUV to the grocery store.

One of the people standing there, also listening but not flying, was a man who politely corrected the speaker a couple of times, explaining he'd been a radio man and gunner on a B-17 in 1944-45 over Germany. HE caught my attention. I wanted to approach him later after all the shots were taken and the plane was gone.......

Once the plane was in the air, I walked over to the older man. I introduced myself, told him I believed it was the B-17 my Father flew in WWII, as a belly gunner..."and, as you can see by my presence, he survived the war." I said "He wouldn't talk about his experiences, and I was hoping you could tell me something about flying these planes at that time over Germany, including what the belly gunner faced."

He was very humble and soft-spoken. His body was old, his eyes an uneven and pale, watery blue. He said: "I was lucky, as were the men I served with. We saw bad things, but I've known men who wouldn't talk about that time... and I suspect it was because they saw more..."

A humble understatement.

He described how cold it was up in that plane at as much as 35,000 feet, even 20,000 feet, and that the radio operator could only wear thin silk gloves because of the delicate knobs he had to manipulate.

He made 9 missions before Germany surrendered. On his last mission, flak took out some of their landing gear. Low on fuel, they had to go to their landing strip with no extra preparation - but they radioed ahead, and "fire retardant foam spray trucks were waiting for us"... "Our fuel was leaking, also." They were a flying bomb. "Our pilot was very good. He took her down over the grass and skidded along the softer ground. The plane broke into pieces, but we all survived."

I asked: "I've heard that the belly turret could actually fall OUT of the plane... with the man inside it. Was this only from being shot and supports breaking, or did the turrets somehow fail on their own?"

"I personally don't know of any falling out, but I can tell you that the hydraulics could be shot up or fail, which was very serious. See, the belly gunner would enter the bubble upside down from inside the plane, then he would spin the bubble around, so he was down "outside" of the plane and sitting upright. If the hydraulics failed, not only was his ability to track enemy planes gone" (he was a fish in a clear barrel) "but he could not get out of the turret. We had hand cranks, and they worked, but it was slow. In emergency crash landings there were times when no one could get the belly gunner out of the turret... and the plane would crash - skid - on its belly... which was on that man."

I've heard some of these turret men had enough time that they asked their up-in-the-plane buddies (by headset) to tell his family his last thoughts were of them...

We talked for about 15 minutes. I was glued to this man's words.

"It was a bad time, but I am grateful for the experiences and having survived them. I wouldn't trade a day and I wouldn't wish them on anyone else," he told me.

Wow. I took his hand, and said "Thank you for talking with me about this, and thank you for what you did."

He said "You're welcome."

I walked away full of emotion.

Ronn.

.
.
.

* "balls to the wall" meant nothing close to what you've probably thought. It was a WWII term referring to the levers in a war plane. These controls had grip ball handles on the tops, and when you pushed them into maximum position, they were against the "wall" of the pilot panel.

Posted by Ronn Ives at 05:17 PM | Link

So we all go to work somewhere everyday, right?

I pull up to mine a few days ago, and the main streets are fenced off. First Thought: "What's up?" Second Thought: "No cars allowed? No business." It's hot as hell and twice as humid, but I decide to walk up the street a few blocks to try and find someone with The Answer. Don't we all?

As it turns out, a man went up to the front doors of a bank two blocks away - they have him on video tape - left a wrapped box at the front door - and RAN.

The System kicks in.

Three hours later, the streets are allowed to reopen. Three hours of guaranteed empty stores for all of us along our valuable main drag.

Ugh.

Fortunately, a woman came in later who was behaving with such a quiet, thorough enthusiasm, I felt a little relief. Eventually I told her ("Kim") she held "The Record" for the month of July - if not longer - for Dedicated Browsing in FUTURES." She was looking under and over. THAT is thorough. (Most people only look at what is presented from waist to eye height.)

The bank didn't blow up. Since we heard Nada on the Fada*, we're assuming everything was a good dud.

Kim continued to be a welcome visitor, and did what few customers do - provided me with lots of feedback, especially about my web site. In fact, she was visiting the storefront because of Digital-FUTURES.

When I hear that, I often question folks for a minute ("Do you think my photos are representing the real things in a reasonable way?" etc.), but she began offering thoughts freely, which were very welcome (especially because she was encouraging - I mean, let's face it, everyone with a small business takes a battering from various angles every day, so encouragement is a breath of fresh air).

On my site, Kim looks over all my inventory, but also reads what I write on this "News and Opinions" page.

Now, I must tell you, I doubted anyone read this stuff. My site counter has never indicated this is a Point of Destination. THEN it dawned on me - jeez I'm slow sometimes - (please palm-pound your forehead as I did) that my site counter records only the entry and exit pages...not what falls in the middle of a surfin' safari. Very few people go to an antique/design/art site anyhow for the mumblings of the owner. Duh.

I mean, DUH.

So, I want to thank Kim, and anyone else reading what I write, and say I appreciate it. My "philosophy" on laying words in a line is: I say what's on my mind and spend little time pondering their effect. I'm crude that way. I'll try harder from now on (but please, do not hit me with grammar corrections-n-junk like that... I'll get all paranoid-n-stuff, and start stealing parts of famous novels just to slow your commatic-criticisms).

.

(* Nada is Spanish for "nothing". Fada was a brand of radio.)

Posted by Ronn Ives at 06:59 PM | Link

A woman is on talk tee-vee. She is describing the murder of her daughter, who was shot in the head, and put on temporary life-support.

She says: 'The doctors came out, and told me that IF she survived, she'd be a vegetarian...'

I'm not joking, and that is no joke.

---

I was reading a book about Art Deco graphic design. In the product category was a box of drinking straws: 'SUNSHINE STRAWS'

Their slogan was 'Like Nature's Own'.

Anyone care to explain?

---

It's interesting to see that a few (not most) companies have kept their graphic style so long. 'BOKAR' coffee is still using the design concepts created by Egmont Arens in 1932. 'Hoover' still uses the same logo, which was, if memory serves, was done by Walter Dorwin Teague or Henry Dreyfuss. 'GE' still uses their logo from the 30's. 'GULF Oil', too. It shows how good design, intended to look modern, has a lasting result. If you have a good thing, you stick with it. Hitler premiered Ferdinand Porche's new design - the 'Volkswagen' ('People's Car') at the 1936 Olympics.

'MODERN' is different than 'Contemporary'.

'MODERN' is closer to a Philosophy.
'Contemporary' is closer to Fashion.

'Vegetarianism' can be either.

Posted by Ronn Ives at 06:54 PM | Link

My wife and I watched a double feature last night. We've become interested in Hollywood films that were censored during the Great Depression. One of the two we watched was:

”The Divorcee” (1930): Norma Shearer stars in this censored Hollywood morality tale. Set in 1928, BEFORE the Great Depression crashed down on everyone, and made FOR the real-time Depression audience, this is the story of a woman who, finding her marital situation "inconvenient", sets out to “live” all of life she thinks she’s missed. It’s most amazing in one way: the costuming and the sets by Cedric Gibbons. This melodrama has great Art Deco everywhere you look. Why, even the people are dancing in geometric gestures, in revealing gowns, dramatic poses, and risqué life styles… I found Shearer fascinating to watch for her odd beauty and ability to use her body in photogenic ways."

Hollywood was at odds with the censorship board. As is usually the case, a bad economy creates an environment of conservatism and reevaluation of life styles.

Sound familiar?

Hollywood was trying to make films that might sell, and the censors were trying to cut out anything that would! Push, pull, push, pull. Film makers fought back by finding loopholes in ever-increasing guidelines. Even the Fleischer Brothers cartoons "Betty Boop" went under HEAVY censorship. Yes, Betty had to wear longer dresses and lose the cleavage. We CAN'T have cartoon cleavage!

So, taking "The Divorcee" as an example, Hollywood stopped using the short "Flapper" skirts of the 1920's. Instead, they draped Shearer, sans ANY underwear - at all - on any thing - in dramatically long gowns made of VERY clingy, satiny material, allowing stiff nipples and pubic hair to be visible through this silvery sheen.

"But you SAID no short skirts!!"

And the game went on.

If you're interested, I believe they are filed on Netflix under "Censored Films".

How does this apply to more recent eras? What about the lax attitudes in '70's films? It's all relative. Much of the 60's nudity vanished in the '70's, as the economy worsened. (Don't confuse the flood of more recent films SET in the 70's with the actual films OF the 70's.)

What can we expect now? The same thing. If it hasn't already begun, it will. The economy says so. But do we still have a "censorship" board? Forget whether we have a "board" or not. "Boards" are nothing but a group of people made up from a portion of "US".

People withdraw in a bad economy. They get conservative.

They CONSERVE.

Sound familiar?

Posted by Ronn Ives at 09:42 AM | Link

My wife and I visited Rembrandt last night. When you visit Rembrandt's work, you also visit the man and the artist. He comes through to me - clean and clear - 350 years later. Currently, there is a huge exhibition of his etchings at the Chrysler Museum of Art in Norfolk Virginia. It is glorious.

Rembrandt's etchings taught me, as a young artist, how to find the joy in serious work. In HIS first days of etching, while still learning the complex technical issues of printmaking, his work was clunky - it lacked finesse. An artist with less security, openness, and honesty would've DESTROYED these works. Matisse did. Remmy did not. Rembrandt left them for US - for me - intentionally - so I too could SEE we all start at the beginning - no one is a genius from Day One. We CULTIVATE genius. Genius comes from the relentless, everyday, blood and sweat of hard work. Genius is not a "Gift". It helped me through ten and half years of college study in Printmaking. All of my degrees are based in Etching. Rembrandt is The Man.

His images cluster into three categories:

- Serious, biblical (etc.) narratives made for sale and repute,

- Portrait commissions to commemorate great people (or people who wanted to be thought of as great),

- His real loves - common people, everyday events, the land, the sky, the people in his life, and the joy of drawing and printmaking.

For the last 40 years, it's the last category that causes me to stare, study, ponder, and shake my head in amazement at what he did, how he did it, and his utter abandon of the commercial world of his day. You hear the name "REMBRANDT" and you think "Classic Old Master". Well... yes, and no. He also broke nearly every rule of art, and was no less upsetting in his time than "WARHOL" in his. However, unlike Warhol, Rembrandt died in poverty. His innovations took him further and further away from the conventions of his time - and conventions are funded by the wealthy - and the wealthy give lip service to innovation - demanding the innovations stop when they hire an innovator to do work for THEM.

Rembrandt has something to teach everyone. I've hardly scratched the surface.*

Ronn.

*So to speak - a little Printmaking joke, there.

Posted by Ronn Ives at 09:43 AM | Link

It's time to re-mention that when I put this symbol: " ~ " at the end of a word, sentence, or paragraph, it means I'm being sarcastic and want to make sure it's understood that way. I'm sarcastic other times too, but I use this:

~

when I think it's possible someone might misunderstand and get insulted.

I send this idea into the Web every so often. I'm actually interested in it becoming widely used for this purpose. It could save lives, marriages, friendships. Or have you never been misunderstood in this keyboard world we now exist? Hmm... come to think of it, you may not even know you've been misunderstood. Has someone been absent in your life for quite some time?

Ronn.

Posted by Ronn Ives at 10:39 AM | Link

I was considering the purchase of a very stylish 60's manual typewriter: aqua plastic and silver metal, it was low slung, worked perfectly, looked informal but sounded solid and serious. It was good example of early 1960's design.

I have a beautiful Machine Age typewriter at the shop. I've had it up for sale for a long time. I took THIS experience and decided it was pointless to try and bring ANOTHER one to the attention of people. Everyone is still in a honeymoon phase with digital keyboard communication. Sadly, by the time this initial love affair ends and other communication machines are rediscovered for their visual and tactile beauty, the aqua machine I declined will be crushed and long gone.

I HATE having to make these decisions, but I am not a warehouse nor a museum.

My god, the things we take for granted... until they're gone. Then, we whine about it, get all nostalgic, and hire the Chinese to make "retro" fakes with which we can diddle a couple of weeks until it breaks... then we shrug our shoulders, and walk away.

"Gee, WE had one of those! I loved it! I wonder what happened to it? I guess we tossed it out. Too bad! It was so nice and reliable and fun to use..... It...

Oh well, that's just how things go!"

Posted by Ronn Ives at 05:43 PM | Link

Historic Districts

Aside from the issues of tax break (where owners are then expected to perform prescribed duties to their special status property), here’s a stress point anyone considering involvement in such a district needs to ponder (and I quote from a California article):

"The state law, passed in 1972, reduces taxes to compensate property owners for the greater maintenance expenses required to keep a historical house in its authentic state."

THAT’S a loaded sentence, especially for Americans. We view our ownership of property as a god-given Right, and our manipulation of that property as an expression of our Individuality.

Though we tip our hats to our history, it is usually within the context of “but it depends upon what the current owner wants to do - we have no right to interfere”. It’s the greatness, contradiction, and dilemma of America.

Once you are given “Historic Status”, you MUST conform to the rules determined by those in power, who have set the guidelines defining “historic”. If it means there are only 3 home exterior color choices from which you may choose, they mean it, and if two homes next to one another cannot be the same color - thereby reducing your color choice to even less - they mean it, and, should you wander out of the fold, you will be legally forced back in, or you're gone.

I have no problem with this if someone buys a home in a historic district and knows what is established and expected. Bravo! I love Preservation! However, I’m also a rabid American, and am ready to defend anyone who was in that district PRE-preservation laws with their Right to not be forced into a situation they did not choose or could foresee. I.e., THEY are “grandfathered in”, and we leave them alone. End of discussion.

While I’m on a home ownership and tax RANT, let me also say I’ve become very angry about taxes being raised on home owners who have been in their location for 20-40-60 years and continue getting hit with higher and higher taxes despite fixed incomes. Very often the original owners, who by this time have certainly earned the right to be LEFT ALONE - the people who have for decades kept the neighborhood so nice it is now even more desirable - should only pay taxes at the level they reached upon retirement. After that, they should be on a FIXED tax rate. Instead, I see these folks losing their homes to increasingly higher city taxes - and I am disgusted by this daily reality.

Does this mean taxes would go higher for the younger residents? Yes. Does this mean we cut services somewhere in that city? Yes, if the taxes do not meet the reasonable needs. To me, this is a moral issue, not financial.

End of speech.

Ronn

PS: And yes, I am one of the younger, non-retired residents, and no, I am not wealthy.

Posted by Ronn Ives at 08:15 PM | Link

"Ronn,
I'd have to agree with you about the 60/70s overlap you discuss in your last News/Opinion article "Decorating your home during War Time". Although I'm a few years younger than you, the late 60s and early 70s was the first time period that I noticed design. Although I look back in disdain at that time period, I'm always trying to figure out why it was determined to be good design at the time. Of course, the same can be said of any definable era but each one should have this basic question asked of it after it moves out of fashion. What aspects may become timeless versus a flash in the pan? Was it all mass hysteria or was there something there?

The aesthetic you discuss in the designer's rooms ( http://www.designspongeonline.com/2008/03/ilse-crawford.html#commentswas ) is basically an update of that time period, IMO. Nothing really new about it but it does offer the question of how we "re-digest" old forms and visual attitudes and make them appear to be new.

Why does something come back into fashion while other eras are never resurrected?

The simple answer is that good stuff comes back around but that's not always the case. Even the awful 70s will see its day in the sun again.

God help us when it does.

Matt"

---

Matt,

I've always felt that a Past is revived first from a current cultural need, which only then causes the market to kick in. The cultural need is much more interesting to me, since the market is mere reflexive opportunism.

The cultural need to revive a Past (true, rumored, or concocted) is based on contemporary social insecurities, and adds hoped-for weight - validation - truth - stability - to current psychic needs of that population. I.e., we USE selective pieces of Pasts for our Present needs.

If a particular Past isn't revived, it's because we don't need it. In that sense, the "Zeitgeist" is as opportunistic as the market - but without the consciousness.

There's ALWAYS "something there", whether or not you like "it". Everything we make and do (and think?) is an indicator of our time. It is entirely unavoidable. It is like the air we inhale and exhale. They are inseparable though slightly altered.

However, I don't accept the concept of "Timeless". No one has ever proven to me ANY single THING from ANY single TIME has a single component of "timeless" (not even nudity in painting, because body types, hair styles, etc. go in and out of fashion!). All Time is Flash-in-the-Pan. The insecure society gives added weight to a Past by labeling it "Timeless" only to transfer that added weight to a Present.

And, if you think about it, we have NEVER actually WANTED that pure concept of "Timeless". Humans want those who are gone to have left behind results which express that era... or at least the best of that era... or at least best as defined by us... at least for now. This way we may - MAY - understand a little something beyond our noses today.

Face it, we live in constant conflict over the function and value of the Past.

Posted by Ronn Ives at 10:49 AM | Link

The "Best & Worst Cars of 2008" has come out in Consumer Reports. Most cars are no surprise, especially if you "follow" car design and results, and are familiar with C.R.'s priorities. I've subscribed to them for decades. Every magazine/organization has its priorities. It has to. Buy Consumer Reports. I don't pretend to be relaying all they've learned. The following is only the tip of the iceberg.

Best small sedan: Hyundai Elantra SE

Best green car: Toyota Prius

Best Fun to Drive: Mazda Miata MX5

Best Pickup: Chevy Silverado 1500 Crew Cab

Best Upscale Sedan: Infiniti G35

Best Small SUV: Toyota RAV4

Best Minivan: Toyota Sienna

Best Luxury Sedan: Lexus LS 460L

Best Midsized SUV: Hyundai Sante Fe

The only "issue" I have with these decisions is in choosing Hyundai for anything related to reliability, because of their infamous lack of reliability. Are they improving? Yes. Are they good? No.

Onward with the information:

Least expensive car to own for the first 5 years: Toyota Yaris - $23,250.
Most " : Mercedes SL550 - $110,500.

Least depreciation: Yaris - $8,000.
Most : SL550 - $66,550.

Least expensive to maintain: BMW Z4 - $900.00 (although I have lots of anecdotal information that says otherwise.)
Most : Range Rover - $5,250.00

Least expensive to insure: Buick Lucerne & Honda Odyssey - $3,000.00
Most : Dodge Viper - $19,700.00

Fastest to 60 mph: Viper - 4.2 sec.
Slowest : Kia Rio LX - 12.8

Best (shortest) breaking distance from 60 mph: Porsche Boxster - 112 feet
Worst (longest) breaking distance from 60 mph: Chevy Tahoe, Dodge Ram Laramie, and Ford Lariat - at a frightening 176 feet.

Fuel mileage:

Small car: Best: Prius - 44 mpg (the original claims by Toyota were 60 mpg, but the methods of measuring fuel mileage have been adjusted and established to modern technologies. 44-45 mpg is now correct for Prius. Toyota would've been aware of this difference in measurements, I am sure.)
Worst: Chrysler PT Cruiser - 20 mpg

Midsized: Best: Toyota Camry Hybrid - 34
Worst: Mercury Grand Marquis - 16

SUV: Best: Toyota Highlander Hybrid - 24
Worst: (TOO MANY to list!) - all at 13

Best used cars: Toyota Prius, Mazda Miata MX5 (+ more) (Because this a 5-year study, one factor not yet considered into the cost of the Prius is the replacement of its battery system, which was estimated to last 7 years, and will cost about $7K to replace.)
Worst used cars: Volkswagen Touareg, Saturn Relay (+ more)

Most reliable model: Toyota Yaris
Least : Pontiac Solstice

Most reliable brand: Honda
Least : Land Rover

Best owner satisfaction: Toyota Prius (Prius, like Corvette, seems to have garnered a rabid group of devotees that will defend the car no matter what problems or quirks exist. Call it a "cult". VW Beetle used to be that way. It's one thing you have to watch out for when it comes to "satisfaction".)
Worst : Chevy Uplander

Only one company has top ratings in reliability across their model board: Honda
The worst : Mercedes

The best overall score across the board: Honda
The worst : Chrysler and Suzuki

The best company for least repairs after 10 years: Toyota
The worst : Volkswagen

The best company for the least repairs overall: Toyota, then Subaru, Scion,
Acura, and at the top: Honda.

The worst: Pontiac, then Mercedes, Cadillac, Hummer, and at the bottom of
the barrel: Land Rover.

So much for "status" symbols. They're symbols of an uneducated OR unconcerned consumer. Heck of choice, that. Design, build quality, performance, "useability", and reliability add up to a car that can kill you or save your life. I think that's worth study before you buy. Are you ready for CHINESE cars?!

Posted by Ronn Ives at 11:06 PM | Link

Okay, now catch your breath.................................

IN........................out........................in.........................................

out.........................................................

relax........... and try this on for size:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jwMj3PJDxuo

It's the sort of thing me and my art major buddies were coming up with in the late 60's and early 70's. Naturally, most of our Profs did not appreciate it, which was both discouraging and encouraging for me.

If you liked or like it, here's their site with details on another project:

http://www.improveverywhere.com/2006/08/19/slo-mo-home-depot/

In the daze of the 60's-70's, events like this were often called "performance art" or "guerilla theater". Conceptually, it was incredibly freeing for myself and my friends who were questioning and recreating everything we could get our minds and hands on. If there was a common "theme", it was about the relentless and all-encompassing uncertainty of the Time. Nothing was stable, nothing was guaranteed, nothing seemed safe.

I've mentioned some of these before, but not all, so here are more examples of what we 18-20 year old Art majors* created (most of it done on the campus of Colorado State University):

- Entering a campus building at night, and giving them a beautifully rendered "cave painting" on their hallway wall. The administration planned to paint over them. The students petitioned that they remain. They remained.

- In a "guerilla" night attack, we repainted a door on an Art building as a draped American flag - like one that would be draped over the coffin of a Viet Nam soldier. It too remained - until the building itself was burnt to the ground after an anti-war rally on campus lead by Abbie Hoffman. All the Art majors who stored their work there lost every thing. All equipment, all Art. Gone.

- In another night "attack", we opened all the windows of the second floor of one Art building, ran string through all the rooms, out all the windows, and staked it down into the surrounding outdoor grassy areas. One student put up a sign: "But what if gravity failed?"

- I created inflatable sculptures that slowly lost air. I would anonymously install them in campus buildings, and let them slowly go flat.

- Richard (best friend), myself, and another friend would go up in the mountains, find a tiny cave, and build a tiny - TINY - room setting in there... as though 6" high people lived there minding their own business.

- I created sculptures - mostly hand built, fired ceramic - that looked like they MIGHT have been natural products of the earth - and I buried them (mainly in the mountains). I'm sure most are still there. My intention was that they last thousands of years, and be a serious mystery by the time they're discovered.

- I DID bury commercial products also, but only ones that had the appearance of "deep, symbolic meaning". I purchased a sack full of chromed plastic trophy tops that appeared like the "Oscar" award male figure. I found a hollow tree, and dumped them all inside.

- An Art major friend and I would go into the mountains and build sculptures from the rocks and trees in the area. We built a dinosaur skeleton, and other figural works.

We (the group) had plans (but could not afford) to:

- Fill large, clear weather balloons with air, and let them go on campus.

- Rent bleachers and a truck, and place the bleachers on the main grassy mall of the campus. Groups would sit there silently, and randomly applaud various students as they walked by.

I still regret we couldn't pull these off.

I had plans (but could not afford) to:

- Cast hundreds of solid white plaster forearms with hands. I would use common rubber dish washing gloves for the molds. They would be "planted" on the main grassy mall of campus - the brilliant white arms/hands reaching up out of the ground towards the sky - planted in precise rows like a graveyard. Unmarked. All alike. If allowed to remain (and by this time, I expected student petitions again), they would slowly decompose through exposure to weather. It was clearly a reaction to Viet Nam.

I really wanted to do that one.

The point was we were trying to alter the typical day/experience of others enough to shake them out of their complacencies... at least enough that they ask themselves one or two questions about their expectations and beliefs.

I never lost the urge. I never thought MY Art should be about itself - it should be about noticing, questioning, analyzing, and perhaps changing our days, our beliefs, our lives, our Time-spending style. I doubt any of us involved in such thinking lost the urge. It's an intoxicating feeling to create Art "out there".

===

* Credit where credit is due: Some of the other members of this group (which was not exclusively composed of Art majors) included Will Bennett, Richard Pettersen, Ray Huffman, Nancy Wakefield, Roy French, Dave Small, Bruce Bishop, Mark Gerboth, Greg Padilla, Dee X, Jeff X, John X, Assistant Prof of Drawing George Brownlee, Assistant Prof of Silver Smithing X (male) and, I'm sorry to say, more names are fading..... or gone

from my memory.

My apologies.

Posted by Ronn Ives at 06:12 PM | Link

My friend, James, and I were talking yesterday, and we began stumbling over the dates of production for Brian Eno's work with music and sound.

It apparently put us into enough doubt that we both went to the web within hours to find the answers. We were both right, and wrong, but James was more right - and I was the one, not him, alive and buying music on vinyl as it premiered in my local music stores!

How can that be? Well, first there's the memory issue, but trust me here, I'm still good at attaching the arrival of an object into my life to a time and place, and I'm seldom wrong. So, how is it my dates could be off by as much as 3 - 4 - 5 YEARS??? The following is what we had in the 60's and 70's:

- if you heard about an album, it was because you made the effort to go to a specialist magazine store, and constantly leaf through them for information leading to music you would otherwise NEVER find.

no Web.

- an album wasn't "out" until it reached your local music store. There was no other source for your acquiring music. Nor could you "burn" yourself a copy from someone else. Even 8 track "burn" tapes could only be made by selecting cuts off your vinyl... and it was so tedious, you didn't do it.

no Web.

- if you were interested in obscure and/or foreign import music, your local music store options were trimmed down to one or none, even in the largest of cities.

no Web.

- there were very few "alternative" radio stations (though FM was better then than now), but nothing like Brian Eno was going to be heard on the airwaves.

no Web.

So... music came to you when it was delivered to you - in small doses - from small sources - to small store owners who were risking their business by not going "pop" - and if you didn't support them, and keep going back to them, they didn't have a commercial chance in hell of surviving.

YOU were deeply interwoven with the "mom/pop" specialist stores, and everyone did what they could to keep things moving and vital.

But, music arrived when it got there, and the sort of music I'm talking about was the last to arrive, especially from foreign shores and small music companies... which explains MY sense of timing compared to James' dates. An album may have been created in 1973, but it didn't arrive to MY venues until 1976, etc.

NO WEB, NO IMMEDIACY... BUT certainly more personal involvement. I LOVED the magic of something finally arriving at a small store in which I had a stake. I LOVED going to a music store with fellow enthusiasts and having a another fellow enthusiast behind the counter say "The new Eno is IN". Life got no better than that.

P.S. - The man's name was Dave, he was about my age, his business was called "Budget Tapes and Records", and it was near the corner of Hampden and Broadway in Englewood, CO.. His counter was on the left as you walked in. There were perhaps 3 twenty foot double sided album aisles in his little store. It held the best music he could offer in a small space with the highest monthly rent he could afford. It was a joy to walk through his door, and he was glad to see us too. I remember all these details even 35 years later..

THAT'S what I'm talking about.

---

It is Saturday.

Pat, my wife, and I watched a Double Feature of mediocre, early Jimmy Stewart films last night: "Made for Each Other" and "Pot O' Gold". One, a rough attempt at making a "serious" statement (M.F.E.O. - NOT by Frank Capra), one, a MUSICAL (P.O.G.). Jimmy in a musical? 'Fraid so. The redeeming factors in both (1939, 1941) were the decor, fashions, cars, etc.. Naturally, I poked fun at the musical and its ridiculous scenarios. What IS WITH those dopey things anyhow? Sorry. I'm NOT a fan of the musical.

My involvement in design helps me interpret visual cues in older films. The cues would've been completely clear to a contemporary 1939 movie audience (for example), yet those same cues are lost to most of us now.

Examples:

If you know nothing about old cars, you can't understand that the car X person is driving was chosen by the set decorators to define the character, for example, as conservative and wealthy.

If you know nothing about lighting design, you might not understand that a particular night club would have been easily understood as posh and expensive.

If you know nothing about ocean liner history, you probably wouldn't know that someone was taking a trip on the most expensive and glamorous ship in the world at that time, and, because they drove a modest, older car, this trip was a symbol of serious outlay of money, desire, and dreams.

It's the sort of thing we take for granted in film, t.v., etc. set in our own time, but the Time will come - as it always does - when only a few viewers can make instantaneous connections between what they're seeing and what it is meant to represent.

I think that's interesting.

Posted by Ronn Ives at 07:20 PM | Link

Our neighborhood has a lot of those crazy, lighted, inflatable Xmas yard "ornament-display" things. I love wacky holiday folk art, but in the morning, when all of those things have been shut down and deflated, the entire neighborhood looks like it's covered in giant, used condoms.

THE SHORTEST HISTORY OF THE ALUMINUM XMAS TREE

MY "plan" today is to get at least one of four aluminum Xmas trees up and in front of our living room glass. Aluminum tree display has a tradition, which includes making them visible to neighbors. It may have begun as a status thing mixed with adding night decor to the block.

"Ooh, THEIRS Rotates ! I wish ours did !!"

In 1965, my folks bought a de-luxe model. It was seven feet tall and stabbed thick with sparkling branches exploding in spraying, atomic pon-pom tips - a luxurious silver symbol of a Modern-Minded Holiday Tradition. Oh, but that's not all! Our tree sat in a motorized stand which slowly rotated it, AND, we had the rotating, four-color projector light... shifting the intense night color of the dancing Pyramid of Metal.

Red... Redgreen... Green... Greenblue... Blue... Bluegold... Gold... Goldred... Red...

It was Mezmerizing...

THE DEATH OF ALUMINUM XMAS TREES

I remember when the projector color wheels (red * green * blue * gold) fell out of fashion (you CANNOT hang electric lights on a metal tree) and people began shining a single color light on the silver trees, or buying the new COLORED aluminum trees. Then, never satisfied, they shifted to white flocked trees, with one fashionable color of matching ornaments. From there, the rest is current history - hanging electric lights on a non-metal tree, especially the
accursed, relentlessly over-used, Tiny White Lights - which brought the final death blow to the glory of aluminum trees.

Fashion Kills.

Well, I inherited our family tree. It is full of sparkle, twirl, color, and tradition... every year... on display in the front window... to the confusion of the style conscious adults in the neighborhood. Kids don't wonder... they see it... and love it.

So, on a good year, my wife Pat, and I will manage to get FIVE trees up. She does the PINE, with 1950's bubble lights and all of our family tradition ornaments, and I do four aluminums - the matronly de-luxe family tree, a glorious, large, all-aqua; a little table-top all aqua version; and a little Russian table-top 2-tone aqua and silver.

Adagio Glorioso Aluminati !!!

(See the last shot on page 8, and all on page nine of "Homes & Decor of FUTURES Customers & Friends" for what I'm up to this holidaze see's 'em.)

Posted by Ronn Ives at 11:28 AM | Link

I was inside FUTURES Antiques all day cleaning, tuning up, ledgering, tagging, photographing, and displaying a LOAD of new items now available.

I rarely find one of these, but when I do, it doesn't last long: a really good BOWLING BALL. Here are my last two:

http://futuresantiques.com/items/main.php?g2_view=core.ShowItem&g2_itemId=7086

http://futuresantiques.com/items/main.php?g2_view=core.ShowItem&g2_itemId=2444&g2_page=39

And, here's the new one:

http://futuresantiques.com/items/main.php?g2_view=core.ShowItem&g2_itemId=3463

They don't get more psychedelic than that!

The B.B.C. (Bowling Ball Cult) is small but intense. They watch my site purely with the hope that TONIGHT will be THE NIGHT - ANOTHER astounding Bowling Ball. Okay... maybe that's an exaggeration, but they ARE focused. THIS is only the 3rd one I've thought good enough to photograph and place on my site. NOW you've seen the Trinity.

I love the things. They are SO varied, and so much can be done with them. Creative people have come up with many fresh uses. (They are not Bowlers.)

The balls will last for centuries, they withstand weather (but like an occasional "Armor All" and wax treatment), they're solid, made of a lovely substance, can be put on a stick, sculpture stand, shelf, floor, table top, or can be hung from the ceiling or on a post in the wall. They can be displayed separately, or in a group. They can be sliced in half and used as patio stones. The finger holes are bud and twig vases, pencil and pen holders... and of course a rolling/shot-put weapon. Oh they're cool.

What a weird business...

Making a living on obsessions and fetishes, right along with decor, function, and investments.

God bless America.

PS: I decorate with bowling balls myself.

Posted by Ronn Ives at 11:00 AM | Link

I have a Lid Lifter in FUTURES. They are related to Door Openers, who are related to Door & Drawer Closers. They can't help it. It's an obsession. They have NO intention of buying. They simply travel about, meeting their manipulation quota. It is true. Sit with me for a week... I dare you. You'll see Lid Lifters, Drawer Closers, and Naked People.

If I open a china cabinet door to show dishware inside, Door Closers will close that door.

If I pull open a drawer so customers can see its woods and dovetailing, Drawer Closers will ALWAYS close that drawer. I'll reopen that drawer 5+ times a day.

Since lids are often ceramic, and they're the first part of a lidded object to be broken, the Lid Lifter put his/herself on thin ice. It may be costly.

Most obsessions are.

---

("Did he just say 'NAKED'?")

---

Yesterday I bought a number of good Art Deco objects.

If I didn't already own one, I'd keep this: I've seen three, ever. It's an Art Deco jewelry/flatware/tie box. Mine, one owned by a friend who bought his from me, and this one are the three. I date it at 1930 - give or take a couple years. I also bought a geometric, cobalt mirror table. You can view these in the "Furniture & Furnishings" gallery. I've also added Art Deco lighting in the "Lighting & other Applicances" gallery. In addition, I bought a pair of 1930's funeral parlor torchere floor lamps. Literally. Good ones. One has a flaw, but when turned to the wall, that vanishes quickly from mind. I should have shots within the next five days.

I bought lots of things, but it was only circumstantial, so I could get these. Not wanting the others things, I gave them to a friend right there on the spot at the auction. I didn't even want to load them. No muss. No fuss. Everyone's happy. You're welcome. See ya later.

---

I've had lots of out-of-towners over the last two days. Some visit every year at this time, and ALL visit for two reasons:

1) to visit FUTURES, and,

2) to get away from the house full of relatives.

How do I know this? They tell me.

---

I have a fashion photographer in here as I write. A few days ago, I was approached by a fashion designer who wanted to use FUTURES as the backdrop. I told him it'd be okay on Sunday, which is usually a quiet day. I did NOT consider I'd have a model... changing clothes... in here...

Should be interesting.

---

Well, I'm now getting full nudity in FUTURES. It's a first... I think.

Maybe it'll bring in business? I mean for ANTIQUES!

---

I WOULD photograph them while they work, but THAT seems a bit indiscreet - considering what I'm seeing at the moment.

Tall, thin, naked, blonde female with heavy black eye makeup - being decorated with interesting clothing.

No, THIS is NOT my typical Sunday.

---

They're having fun and are "all business" at the same time. The model is on the clock. The photographer is probably being paid by the job. The designer wants his career to take off. I understand all three positions.

---

Hours pass: The neighborhood is slowly becoming aware of their presence, and strolling by the show windows out of curiosity. This is NOT what they've come to expect from my store... at least on a Sunday.

---

(Later:) It looks like I'll be staying a little late at FUTURES. They need the time, and I've seen some of the shots. Nice! The "team" is in a groove. I'm not going to stop them.

PS: I DID get a couple of shots, and the photographer insisted on shots of me with them. You will see his when I receive them.

Here are mine (the first two shots):

http://futuresantiques.com/items/main.php?g2_view=core.ShowItem&g2_itemId=3520

Posted by Ronn Ives at 08:43 PM | Link

The tee-vee is on here at FUTURES Central. One of those insipid "Charmin" toilette paper - s'cuse me - BATH tissue - ads was just on. You know, with the happy Bears who like to rub the roll of fluffy stuff against their face?

THEN It dawned on me:

Q: Why does the ad agency design these commercials so the bears are rubbing it on their face?
A: Because they're rubbing it on their CHEEKS.

Q: Why Bears?
A: Because of the old, classic rhetorical question: "Does a bear crap in the woods?"

2 bonus answers: It's BARELY subliminal, Teddy !

Duh.

Sometimes the Dawn comes quickly - after an especially long, dark night.

Posted by Ronn Ives at 09:45 AM | Link

My ear plugs are still in my shirt pocket, and twelve hours later I'm still rockin' my head and whistlin' shards-n-slivers of songs by Blue Cheer.

I usually write as I think and slowly find my point. This time I want to be more specific. Last night, I was at the kick off concert of a new tour of "Blue Cheer". For some odd but lucky reason, they chose to begin this tour in a small club ("The Jewish Mother") in the ocean side tourist town of Virginia Beach, Virginia. Adding to the luck, my friend James Duval, involved in music and radio, had two professional passes, and asked me to join him.

Yet, I was hesitant. My reasons:

1) Most tours of "old" groups are lame and embarrassing, especially when the original members - now dead, in a coma, preaching, or selling real estate - are "replaced". Slow motion "Menudo-ism".

2) Most tours include so much crowd-pleasing nostalgia it's lame and embarrassing. For god's sake, allow, no, INSIST that artists MOVE AHEAD, no matter HOW much you or they love their old work!

3) Blue Cheer was always billed as the LOUDEST band in rock history. A dubious cause for billing, but having never heard them in concert, I wasn't sure if it was true, and I did NOT want to damage my ear drums (now that I no longer believe my body is immortal or equal to Superman's). I envisioned blood leaking out of my ears at about the fifth number. (Btw, yes, they WERE loud, but I've heard louder: The Rolling Stones, Denver, 1965, and Gang of Four, Virginia Beach, c. 1984 - which was their very last concert.)

4) I'm always afraid of a negatively memorable experience getting in the way of my appreciation of the original music - like they turn a classic rock song into a Las Vegas toe-tapper. More lame and embarrassing potential.

5) And, finally, would these guys still have their "chops"?

I went with James. And, if we're going, why mess around? Get there EARLY, scope the place for best listening, photographing, bathroom, and autograph-seeking positions, and hang onto it... which we did, though it was a small club and no one was "cheated" of the full experience.

First, an opening band. "Crimson Electric". They were good musicians relying on a mix of inspirations from early heavy metal, early punk, to 90's+ rock. Their only weak spot - quite a weak spot - was the vocalist. I kept hoping for an instrumental, so I could enjoy the guys who were doing the good work.

After they were done, the stage was stripped and reloaded with Blue Cheer's equipment. They were ready to begin about 10-10:30 pm.

It's odd... seeing people you've "known" for 40 years - those guys - photographed and staring out from their psychedelic album covers - those young turks full of lean-and-mean in-your-face innovations, cultural representation, and momentary fashion statements. Out walk three men in their sixties... and they're still talkin' the talk... but how can they still be walkin' the walk? The TIMES have changed - and the TIMES, not to mention age, maybe even improvements, seep into all of us. Three men in their sixties.

"Dickie" Peterson, original lead vocalist and bass guitarist, spoke. Yeh, he carried his habitual lingo as do we all. It clothes us all within specific decades and subcultures. You utter anything, and someone understands a little of your history. His voice sounds like Wolfman Jack's, his lingo was that of Haight Ashbury but with a wiser, tougher edge. He was thin, had shoulder length gray hair and sunglasses, and ready to rock. Rock heavy.

Paul Whaley, original drummer, sat down at his equipment like he'd arrived at his office, and the drums were his desk. He looked over his equipment as though they were memos, settled in, and didn't spend any time checking out who his audience was for this night in this town. He was internalized. (He reminded me of Charlie Watts of the Stones. All business. No emotion.)

"Duck" MacDonald is the "new" member, having only been with the group TWENTY years. Newbie. Greenhorn! A big man with long, thinning brown hair, and the lead guitar. He seemed like a guy with whom you'd share a random beer and he'd never mention he was a member of Blue Cheer.

Okay, here they were. Here we were. Let's get started. Let's just SEE what happens... maybe I won't even need my earplugs. Maybe their amps are turned down and they'll pull out accordions and tambourines in a minute anyhow.

Huh uh. NO way! They hit this road RUNNIN' baby, RUNNIN'! I can't give you the set list, but many of the first songs were from their new album, so this was NOT a nostalgia tour. Check marks in the "GOOD" column. LOUD!? No one, not even the rude, mouthy jerk nearby who kept playing with his ponytail like it was his weenie that'd would be amputated next week, could speak while they played. Ear plugs IN. Don't kid yourself. Bring some. Nothing is worth losing your hearing, and it IS possible. Your ear drums are NOT immortal.

Eventually Blue Cheer allowed in some older tunes, which included Rock Me Baby, Doctor Please, Out of Focus, Parchment Farm, Second Time Around, and yes, Summertime Blues. "Summertime Blues" was introduced NOT as "This was one of our huge hits and let me tell you a few interesting stories about what it did for us...." but as "Eddie Cochran's hit". Impressive. They continue to use strong, sometimes shifting rhythms, heavy bass guitar, sinuous lead guitar wailing and spinning, and harsh, unromantic vocals. James was busy rockin' and bobbin' to them, with a smile on his face. James is a young man. He has NO nostalgia built in here. HE had pure, unadulterated appreciation for THESE THREE MUSICIANS, HERE, NOW.

It added up to an experience unlike any other. I tried to attach them to Led Zeppelin. Nope. Jimi Hendrix Experience. No! Jefferson Airplane? NO way. In NO time, I'd eliminated any of the other Sixties innovators, and saw only a long list of groups Blue Cheer had inspired in the Seventies and beyond. They are who THEY are, and it's music you either appreciate or you don't.

Listening back to "Vincebus Eruptum" - the album that put them on the counter-culture map - it was, of course, a more produced, cleaner sound with good balance, and is one of MY favorites of all time. When I'm in THAT mood, no other album fits. When I'm in the mood for "Golden Earring", or "Devo", or "Johnny Mathis" or "Mary Wells", or "Tammy Wynette", or "[you fill in the blank]", you MUST have THEM and no one else. Well, Blue Cheer is to Psychedelic Heavy Metal what Little Richard was to Rock and Roll, Run DMC was to Rap, or Patti Smith was to Punk.

They did one encore. I am NOT a fan of the "encore". It's long been a fake ritual, and I think artists give enough as it is. Don't ask more. Enjoy what you've been given, and don't barter the value down by asking for more - More - MORE - FREE - extra music, extra time, extra energy!!! Stop it. Whoop and holler and applaud for an hour if you want, but don't expect them to play for you until YOU'RE tired and walk out on THEM.

Oh, and DON'T talk over them, and DON'T play with your ponytail every 45 seconds. Someone's going to get very angry, and tell you to shut the hell up, or cut off your hair.

Once they were done, James and I went down to the stage and waited patiently until they had free moments. I asked "Dickie" to sign my "Vincebus Eruptum" vinyl album cover. (Bring three pens. At least one ALWAYS fails when you don't expect it.) I said "Thanks so much for coming tonight. I brought your album, which I've carried with me everywhere for the last forty years." He said "So have I, man, so have I." GREAT response. I thanked him again, wished him luck on the tour, and he thanked me for coming. "My pleasure!" I said. I then asked Paul to sign it, which he did, I shook his hand also, thanked him, he thanked me, and James and I exited.

Outside, I threw my arm over James and said "WOW! Thank YOU for bringing me! This turned out to be a great concert, and none of the hesitations I told you I had were there. THIS was the real thing. The REAL thing!!" He agreed.

See Blue Cheer (including my autographed album) in this gallery (first seven photos) on my site:

http://futuresantiques.com/items/main.php?g2_view=core.ShowItem&g2_itemId=3520

More on Blue Cheer at these links:

http://www.furious.com/PERFECT/bluecheer2.html

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blue_Cheer

Posted by Ronn Ives at 08:34 PM | Link

I'm all about the Perfect Original Condition of things in my store and at home. When something has its original price tag, etc. on it, it STAYS on the thing. I'm the Minnie "Purist" Pearl of the antiques world. Ok, fine. Once a month I get someone who looks at an original price tag, may or may not see my price tag, and says something like:

- "Is dis da pice? Cuz dat's aw-rite!"

- "Is this the rill price? Haw haw. I'm just jokin', ya'll!"

- "Man, you've really jacked up the price since it was first made!"

And, that person means it. They're upset I'm asking more now than what it sold for 50 or 100 years ago. Really.

A guy recently said that to me. I said "Mint condition is mint condition." I don't think he got it. I sat there at my desk prepared to ignore further comments from him, when I had the idea to do a little math experiment: divide the price of gasoline (within the same era as the object upon which he commented) into the price of gasoline now. Gas rose approximately 12.5 times. I then used the same math on the mint condition item. It had gone up a mere 8.3 times.

Don't even GET me STARTED on the original price of a Van Gogh in 1890 verses 1990 auction results.

And no, I didn't bring this up to Mister Commentator.

Posted by Ronn Ives at 10:27 AM | Link

36% of Americans age 18-29 have tattoos. 16% of all Americans have tattoos. I grow more and more amazed and confused.

I won't linger (like a tattoo) on the subject because I've already done it, but... whether you call it "optimism" or "naivete" or "short sightedness" or "recklessness" or "painfully fashion conscious", I have NO doubt that many people - not all - but MANY - WILL eventually realize their permanent act was a passing idea, and regret it.

Hey, of course they have the "right". Of course! Don't go gettin' all defensive on me.

The running joke used to be only sailors got tattoos, and they were drunk at the time... but times change. Now it's not just men, or sailors, or drunkenness.

Some of YOU have tattoos. Some have tattoos that are even interesting.

Here's what I ask The Tattooed Ones:

1) Do you consider what you wear an "art" image? Do you consider it "art"?

2) IF so, explain WHY it is art, and why you didn't create (or have someone create for you) this image on canvas or paper, have it framed, and put it on your wall instead?

3) If it is art, how does the CONTEXT of its being on your body change, validate, and improve its meaning?

4) If it is not art, what is it? How does it function in your life? I.e., why was it worth the cost and the pain, not to mention the permanency?

5) If you haven't THOUGHT about these things, what thoughts got you to the point of having it done?

I'm serious. I don't get it. Because of that, I'm fascinated by the ACT of getting tattoos. I'm an artist, and I have NEVER stood by ANY image/symbol to SUCH a degree that I believed it would hold up under years of intellectual growth as my single symbol for my life.

What am I not understanding about this relatively recent phenomenon?

6) How is it NOT merely another fashion? Or, let me ask it this way: what outfit of clothing would you choose to wear everyday for the REST of your life? Does that sound insane? Do you ever look at photos of you from the past? What do you normally think about your past hair, clothes, slang, etc.?

7) Is THIS why people get more and more and more tattoos? Is it because of indecision? Is it pure, meaningless, more-is-more ornamentation? Or, is it because a new outfit is now desired?

I wonder. That's all.

Posted by Ronn Ives at 08:05 PM | Link

I recently learned FUTURES Antiques is in Hampton Roads Magazine as “The Best Antique Shop” in the region, and one of the most unique on the Eastern Seaboard.

I’m proud of that.

Thanks for being here.

Ronn Ives, owner.

PS: Please click below to reach the next article...

Posted by Ronn Ives at 10:30 AM | Link

The Frisbee is 50 years old this year. I am 57. The Frisbee, along with the Hula Hoop - both by Wham-O - came out during my toy-joy height.

The Frisbee has staying power. The Hula Hoop does not. The Hula Hoop wiggles through time with an occasional flap, but it's soon in the thrift stores. It's a Fad. The Yo-yo is a Fad. The Frisbee is a higher level toy. Why?

Simple. The Hoop and the Yo are solitary activities. If they're done with friends, they're done as a collection of solitary activities. The Frisbee is anti-solo. It is a social activity, a connection. The Fris requires us to acknowledge others - not mere "need" of them, but our enjoyment and acceptance of them... for who they are... and who they are now.

The Frisbee requires us to become familiar with the Other - our Collaborator in Fun - acknowledge their existence - their position on Earth at this time - and their limitations. To make a connection, you MUST cooperate. You may need to position very close to the young or inexperienced. It is not a bad thing - it merely Is How It Is, and, their progress is assured. You may need to limit the range of the Frisbee toss for your old, weak, or crippled accomplice. You need to cooperate with the weather - the position of the sun, the wind and its direction, rain, temperature, condition of the ground... The Frisbee is not a toy you are expected to get PAST an OPPONENT (like base ball, ping pong, checkers, chess, soccer, foot ball, basket ball, etc., etc.) in order to DEFEAT them. In fact, if you fail to sail the Frisbee to your partner - if it does go past them - it's typical to apologize. Frisbee is a different game.

The Frisbee, in all its variations, links one person to another, and the people to the real world. It is a social tool - a human tool - an emotional tool. I can think of no "Toy" I'd be prouder to have invented. None.

Posted by Ronn Ives at 06:30 PM | Link

This seems like a good time to restate one of my "help the world" goals via the web:

The email format can too easily be misinterpreted. Sarcasm can too easily be missed. This leads to conflict. We do not want those problems.

THEREFORE, I have been using, and support EVERY person using this symbol

" ~ "

at the end of any sentence or paragraph that contains any use of sarcasm that could in any way be missed by your recipient.

It's a small gesture that could help us avoid relationship repair time or loss.

PASS THIS ON to everyone you know. I don't need my name on it. I just want the concept to go into daily, international use. That's all!

And another thing: I've been working on a hand signal design that could save lives. Really. It can best be distributed through the web, but will be put to use during person-to-person contact.

No. Really. No "sarcasm symbol" here.

Go to "Shop" then click on Page 2 of Shop. Click on "What I See" Gallery, then to go Page 2 of "What I See". Open the "Symbols I have designed that will SAVE your LIFE" Gallery.

Ronn.

Posted by Ronn Ives at 06:23 PM | Link

My wife and I watched the film "Incident at Loch Ness" last night. Neither of us had seen it. (Werner Herzog's "documentary" about a documentary being made about him, while he decides to make a documentary about people trying to find the Loch Ness monster.)

It was full of "Herzogian" comments, which I often find interesting.

I have only my own experience for the following thought, but it might be a useful one:

As an artist, you search for the meaningful, and once it's found, you explore it at length. Variations on a theme, so to speak. Research. Experiments. Exploration. Viewing from all the angles.

Every so often, you need a break. In my Printmaking Thesis work, I called these "vacation etchings". Then, with your break done, it's back to the serious etchings, perhaps even with a slightly fresher point of view.

I think David Lynch (with "Inland Empire") and Herzog are both at places in their careers where they can not only afford, but need to create "vacation" films. Woody Allen does it. Spielberg does it. Anyone with the opportunity to do it, does it. It's part of the process.

"Incident at Loch Ness" seemed to me Herzog's way of screwing with his love for film, story, scoring, acting, issues of reality, and, as always, his fascination with the dark and stupid aspects of human behavior.

I enjoyed it - laughed through a good part of it - but understood it as a "vacation" film. When he "returns", I expect I'll see some fresh refocusing (so to speak), possibly with a few snapshots (so to speak) from the trip.

"Incident..." isn't a major film. But, when you admire an artist, as I do him, you follow his/her career all the way. There are ups and downs, but most of the time it is necessary, and eventually, good lessons are learned.

I've always felt someone rushed Kate Bush into making her album "Lionheart". After that she slowed down (and note how many years of quiet reevaluation (absence) before "Aerial" was released). "Lionheart" is the only weak album of her career.

Brian Eno seems to balance/rebalance himself by switching from his ambient explorations to rhythmic (even rock-n-roll-ish), lyric/vocal works.

Matisse would create imagery that simplified and simplified, and then would turn around and elaborate and elaborate.

Ebb and Flow. Yin and Yang.

Ronn.

Posted by Ronn Ives at 10:20 AM | Link

After watching the new "King Kong" last night, I thought I might have Giant Bug dreams or something equal to that, but I didn't. I'm sort of glad.

There are some MEMORABLE moments with Big Bugs, Big Fish, Big Reptiles, Big Slugs, Big THINGS. They would've BLOWN MY LITTLE MIND when I was a kid. Even for as crude as most special effects were a half century ago, some spooked me. I would've loved-hated to see THIS stuff at age 6! YIKES!!! Aside from great visuals, this latest Kong has Heart. It's why I revisit the 1933 version. Heart. A Story is and will remain a Story, and nothing less. It either offers a connection to its audience, or it doesn't.

The main reason "Modern" art was or is so difficult for the uninitiated is that, for the most part, it stopped creating The Story. You can see it coming as much as 150 years ago. Each step shocked and dismayed traditional art lovers and the status quo. THIS new "art" (WAS it art??) sat there and refused to tell you a story.

Picture this: You are all gathered around the tribe campfire. This is the night each week that the Great Story Teller comes to join you all... He sits down, and you await the next Tale. It's a tradition you have never even considered doing without... these Stories. You have never noticed much about the Story Teller personally. It's dark out, and you're there for the STORY, not the Teller. It's TRA-DI-TION!!

Then, instead of a story, the Great Story Teller sits down, remains silent, and, without a warning, looks off into the distance as though you weren't there, and does not utter a word all night long. You look around, wondering what it is you're supposed to see off in the darkness, but no one has prepared you for this. Some of you stay all night, watching the Teller... most leave before sunrise, but all leave out of confusion, frustration, and disappointment.

The next week, The Teller arrives, remains silent, and everyone harasses him, trying to get an answer for this great insult to the tribe. He does not respond. Most people get up and walk away sooner than that last "debacle".

The next week, The Teller arrives, sits, stares, says nothing, but this time the tribe discusses what he might be doing. "He's mad." "No, he has a Plan. We must wait." "He's insulting us." "Was he wearing that head dress last time?"

The next week he arrives, sits, and stares in silence. Since he won't respond, some people begin redefining why they've come: To chat with the others, try their hand at telling stories, and generally not give a long look to the Teller. The Teller is becoming Vague for the tribe. They used to think they knew him, but now... now he's not just different... he pulled out of the tradition altogether... right? I mean, what's the POINT anymore? There IS NONE, right? Someone said "I think he changed his head dress a little from last week."

Over the weeks, the camp fire is lit, and Saturday nights are still the center of intellectual and social exchange. The Teller still shows up, some people are getting better at telling stories in their own way, and have adopted some of the old Teller's style to add continuity & comfort to their new attempts. Others are bored with these new Story Teller attempts. Instead, they pass the time in a more private way - looking at the fire, thinking, listening closer to the sounds of the group and the Growlers out there in the Darkness, and a few - a few - have begun looking forward to the Teller's subtle changes in his head dress. He seems to be exploring, or, well, it's no longer a story, but he's experimenting with himself or materials back at the hut which are added, moved, altered, or removed from his outfit for the following week. Maybe. "He changed the color of his shoelaces," said someone. "I noticed that too," said someone else, "but... I liked the green ones best." "Huh?" someone else asked. The other two moved nearer one another other.

The next week, those two arrive with shoe laces made out of snake skin. The entire group noticed and spent time debating the innovation's value and beauty.

Months pass. Just about everyone is showing up in clothing alterations they've created over the week. Some people dyed their shoe laces green and left it at that, but most have become fascinated with what each of the tribe does to his/her appearance. The camp fire burns twice as long since everyone wants to give and get opinions in this new, vital phase of the tribe's Saturday Night. The Stories are becoming a Thing of Our Past. They want more exchange, not just delivery.

Years pass. A group of Anthropologists arrive on a Saturday night. They find a tribe seated around the fire, dressed in the most elaborate, intense, colorful, textural, and least functional garb they've ever witnessed...and, no one is speaking a word. They're simply looking at each other with a studious joy and deep curiosity that has never been witnessed in the history of Tribes.

Now back to stories.

Stories either offer a connection, or they don't. I DO NOT mean pandering, tear-jerk soapers which have no other goal. But let's face it - we, as Humans, can only understand the world from a human position, and we respond to those things that offer value to humans:

Stimulation.

Information.

Advice.

Membership.

Relief.

Exploration.

Survival.

Are some things more difficult to understand than others? Of course. Does that mean they are more valuable? No. Does it mean humans require a lot? Yes. We are the creatures of Thought, Dream, Senses, and Emotions. We have goals, lusts, preferences, and fears. One form of the world is not enough.

Now back to the Anthropologists:

They stayed to study the tribe until the following Saturday morning. They saw what they saw, they left before the upcoming Saturday night gathering, and began writing their research papers on the boat home. What they didn't see was that THIS Saturday was "Every Other Saturday Story Teller Night".

Posted by Ronn Ives at 09:42 PM | Link

INTERESTING CAR RELIABILITY TID-BITS (gleaned from statistics in this month's (April '07) "Consumer Reports" magazine on automobiles:

AMERICAN:

Chrysler/Dodge has the worst quality & reliability, including Jeeps.

General Motors is slightly better, which is still awful, but Buick makes a couple models worth your RISK, if you're determined to TRY. Want Hell on Earth? Buy a Hummer, Cadillac, Saturn, Chevrolet, Pontiac.

Ford comes in ahead of GM, but is still bad. Jaguar is part of Ford.

EUROPEAN:

Mercedes is the ABSOLUTE WORST. I don't care whose HYPE you've bought, we're talking lousy cars.

Rover comes in next worst.

Porche should NEVER be relied upon as your daily driver.

Minis are bad and way dangerous. (Think rear end crash.)

Volkswagen/Audi/(Porche) occasionally has an acceptable car, but mainly creates BOMBS, especially after 36 months of ownership. Then, you're in for a major hurtin'.

BMW/(Mini) has a narrower range of awful-to-almost acceptable, but NO WAY would I want to rely on one, or pay the repair bills.

SCANDINAVIAN:

Saab has nothing you want to try driving across the state.

Volvo - yeh yeh, I KNOW what you're "heard" - but they make lousy cars that only look a little better these days.

ASIAN:

Suzuki is sub par, equal to about the Mini. Not good.

Kia is also sub par, but not quite as bad.

Hyundai has a narrow range of above average, but I sure wouldn't want one.

(Now to JAPAN):

Mazda is the weakest of the Japanese car companies, with quality that varies from model to model and year to year.

Mitsubishi is close to Mazda.

Infiniti (Nissan) barely outperforms Ford/Mercury, and has more problems!

Subaru quality is equal to Hyundai but has more problems. Ouch!

Lexus (Toyota) has very high quality OVERALL, but HAS created a couple models with problems.

Acura does not reach the quality of Lexus, but has fewer problems. Decisions, decisions...

Scion (Toyota) is equal to Acura but with fewer problems...and is a BUDGET car!

(and now we head to the TOP TWO, which shouldn't be any surprise):

Honda is entirely above average to very good,
and,
Toyota is entirely above average with the range going a tiny bit higher AND lower than Honda.

Of the TOP Ten: The first 9 are Asian, Mercury fills out the 10.

Of the BOTTOM Ten: 5 are Euro, 5 are American (which includes Jaguar). Within American, GM makes the most junk, Chrysler makes the worst junk.

A TRICK the companies pull when trying to affect the Reliability Stats:

When a company renames a model - calls it "all new", gives it a new number or name, etc. - they get to start with a CLEAN SLATE. I am convinced this is why American companies "change" models so quickly. In the past, I believe it was because their consumers wanted the "New! Improved! Most Stylish" (and that desire still exists), BUT, over the last 40 years the Japanese have - slowly - given consumers a realization about and an alternative to typical, self-satisfied American quality.

The "Quality Gauge" American consumers used for their cars (through my father's generation, and passed to mine - who then encountered the Japanese products) was: "You have a GREAT car if it lasts 10 years & 50,000 miles." THAT was standard wisdom. THAT was all you could expect. After that, you drove the thing off a cliff because it was more rust, duct tape, and blue smoke than vehicle. American cars have come along since then, but too little too late.

It's sad, really. It's a classic case of resting on laurels, and having ABSOLUTELY NO INTEREST in noticing Winds of Change. "Detroit" Decision Makers have no vision or ethical core - and their employees - and their buyers - thus our economy - WE - are who pay the acidic trickle-down price for such deluded self-righteousness.

Posted by Ronn Ives at 11:31 PM | Link

Once in awhile I get in the mood for an avalanche of 80's Bruce Springsteen hits. Today's one of those daze... and that means Springsteen is rockin' in FUTURES.

M'god, the '80's were as much as 27 years ago.

Official VINTAGE music in an official VINTAGE and ANTIQUES store... how cliche!! I usually reserve Sundays for classical music - including that which has become thought of as "church" music - from Gregorian Chant to High Baroque. Oh god, oh oh... HOW CLICHE!! I'm a walking, talking, balking bag of cliches.

How do I get out from under this canopy of commoness?

I know! I'll serve cute little sugar cookies at the door... No, no... THAT'S being done, and I don't have the money to pay for weekly roach exterminators. I know, I'll have a bowl of cheap peppermints wrapped in plastic. No... that's being done, and I don't want all my fine art pottery and art glass filled with little wads of smelly clear plastic. I'll stop playing music altogether. No... t.b.d., and they're way ahead of me in the "Never-take-your-eyes-off-the-customer style of interaction. Okay, I'll load the place up with cobwebs and smelly cats. No... t.b.d. too, and I'd feel bad every time a customer had to tell me one of the cats spewed diarrhea on the inventory (sofa) ... Oh I KNOW! I'll sit by my cash register on a stool and eat junk food day in and day out "because it's the only place around here"! I'll become a Jabba character. No... t.b.d.. Damn.

Okay, okay........I got it: I'll put my store number into speed dial on my cell phone, and then when customers come in, I'll secretly call myself on the store phone and pretend it is Sotheby's or Oprah or the Queen. "Oh, it's ARRIVED already! That's very good. I put in a word for you. Yes, I might be able to help you with that also... let me look at my schedule later in the week, would you? Oh stop it! You're a RIOT!! If the MEDIA knew you as I do, they'd stop all that silliness. Okay, I'll call you by next Wednesday, how's that? Monaco? Fine. Till then. Yes, I have it. No, no...thank YOU! Ciao."

Crap. I'm sure that's being done all the time.

Come on Ronn, THINK!!!!

Maybe I could play old Rusty Warren, and Redd Foxx vinyl albums on a turntable.
("Quick! GOOGLE!! Who is Rusty Warren?")
I mean, this WOULD discourage the "McDonald's Playland" crowd, wouldn't it? No, it wouldn't ............... after having seen that "Good bush, Bad bush" T-shirt.

We've created an endless world of cliches.

I could wear a "Cave Man" costume, or one of my computer buddies could animate up some cute lil' character with "sass and edge" to represent me...oh, and I'll need a Catch Phrase. Mine (so far) have failed to become National Phenomenons:

"Don't Screw with the Past!"

"FUTURES: Specializing in the Past right here in the Present!"

"FUTURES: The Most Modern Antique Shop Around"

"Even your MOM has been thinking you need to come see me."

"Do you WANT to be cool, or NOT?"

"I Kill Hummels and Eat Beanie Babies"

"NO DRINKS NO FOOD NO SMOKE"

"HEY!!! I'M OVER HERE!!!"

(They get more and more desperate...)

Maybe the trick is to have it on a T-shirt and bumper sticker FIRST, and THIS will insure its widespread use. Probably so. How can you NOT love T-shirts? What are ya, a danged COMMIE?

It's Super Bowl Sunday.

Sorry.

Posted by Ronn Ives at 08:16 PM | Link