Sleepless in Hot York

Siesta was created because you actually can't function in the heat of the day. Is that why I couldn't find the subway stop as I circled it from 30 feet away? Sweet Jesus but it's hot on fantasy island. Let's hope that doesn't deter the tourists from shopping in the oven on Saturday (Chelsea Garage Annex Flea 26th and 6th or so). That this venerable flea market will actually close after forever I am unable to accept but August 30th is the end kids, so if you are in the hood buy a bag of ice, stick it down your pants and shop...think sweat lodge meditation for antique natives, sauna for slaves of salvage..free toxic cleanse with every purchase, doubles as a salt lick.. Secretly I love summer, bring it on (you weren't here when it was 2 and we were trying to load the van...no I am NOT over it). Tomorrow I'm going to crawl into a storage unit then onto a salvage yard, let's see if that degree clinical strength antiperspirant is all that. I'm holding back some great stuff for the store and word has it that MarkyD is pulling it together upstairs at ye ole heritage co.2. (Don't get excited, we're keeping it to Friday and Saturday for now, there's a pawn shop to run and mark is the go to prince of pawn in pontiac people!) And you know? I'm kinda getting ready for a BIG SELL OFF too, I'll even turn the AC on, big splurge. Scored a primo primo spot at Brimfield and I want all new juicy stuff for the September show (weekend after labor day). Thanks for asking, yeah the new van is running fine (giant repair bill later..don't get me started) Have yet another car to sell when I get home i.e. the cargo van (did i mention i am indeed parting with my beloved '67 porsche 912 and rick's '76 convertible karmann ghia is also on the block?) But first I gotta get this one back, but that's on the next trip to New York, never mind it's complicated...new stuff in the store first week of August, stay cool, RMA, shut up, love you mean it, go to bed, ok, shhh, ok, by, shit I forgot a photo, close your eyes, visualize the statue of liberty, scary dinner bills, good night from new york.

The Best Thing I Ever Found at Brimfield

Sitting in front of the fan under this little white oven tent and selling my wares, I am counting the minutes until I can pack it all in and head to my little oasis. A dealer I met through another dealer I met showed us this pristine spring-fed pond. To dive into that alternate universe after the all day heat, dirt, stuff and the selling of it, keeps me going. I can swim the entire perimeter and see the lilly pads and the path the water creatures make escaping my current. As my longtime dealer friend lulu says, the people still in this business despite all the economic woes are the heart and soul of the business. Despite the conditions and long hours, to sit amongst our tents and share wine and hors d'houevres, complete dinners and then watch old 8mm movies on the side of a white truck, I can't imagine a richer life. I actually gave up a hotel room and the 30 minute commute to sleep in my new old van and bathe in a pond. I couldn't be happier about it. The full moon and sparkling stars mark a path from the bathroom, a bag of toiletries slung over my shoulder. I rise early with enough time to read for an hour before I head for the showers, dress and head to the food tents for coffee and breakfast. I am reminded of the gypsy encampments outside the city limits of Paris. Dirty barefoot children ran between the adults whose loud laughter rose with the steam from pots. They were having fun and I felt sorry for them. I have since learned that simple trumps fussy and while it is glorious to stay at a posh hotel and eat at fine restaurants, it isn't any more fun than this. Tomorrow I gauge whether to stay all or part of the day knowing I have to pack it all up and load the van in the hot sun and head to New York City. Next weekend is the garage flea market and all the city gypsies will be there. I can't wait for them to see the cache of worn wonderment as it spills out from my traveling show.

A New Holiday Work/Play Plan You'll Love!!

Going on a trip should be fun and a good excuse to buy a new outfit. If you asked my mother and three sisters, a trip of unloading junk and selling it on the side of the highway is not fun nor would buying a 10-year-old, 1 ton, 5.4 liter V-8, 15-passenger van to do this next week, qualify as a chic outfit. What do they know? I know my 80 year-old, retired-engineer dad thought it was fun looking at used vans with me, not to mention it's his kind of outfit. It's complex, the son you didn't get, but didn't really want, that is still your daughter/child driving 1300 miles in an old van next week. He has that look on his face that says, I know cars and this one stinks, but for the right price? My daughter is crazy, thank God I'm here. This has made his day. But, the owning that spur of the moment decision-making and make-fun-work habit might by his genes? That's another story. He crossed an ocean with probably as much forethought and blind ambition. Did fun enter his mind? in between working like a dog? What if all he needed was the right manual?

My inner Martha Stewart says work and play is entrepreunerial, you just need a little multi-tasking manual to make it fun. The Fourth of July is ideal for this vacation. Your kid has to be collected from sailing camp and couch surfing in paradise, you have to find a van, pack it and do a show next week, just put the pieces in order. Simple engineering logic and plenty of time for fun! Just don't over do it! In a 48-hour plan, one needs two eight-hour stretches of sleeping time. You know two spots with queen pillow tops and 400-count cotton sheets that will cost you nothing. Suggest your company will make their holiday. Sound completely fried if they waffle.

Work up to the minute that the highways shut down on Friday. Grab bathing suit, toothbrush, vodka on the counter, don't forget old dog. Expect that one of the two last vans on the way to your first night's accommodation will be perfect. One just so happens to belong to an old client you liked, send plea out to the universe and to the ghost of the Big Three Gods. Your sister's spacious arts-and-crafts home in Kalamazoo is a sure thing, separate dogs, break out vodka, retire to the porch for cocktails, sleep. Her husband Rodger owns the original Heritage Co. store, shop there before you have to pick up your child. This feels like work, so make fun stop for berry picking on the way. Rodger knows mulberry tree 5 blocks away. With less than an hour, inspire genius. There's three of us, some kitchen bowls and a rain poncho in the car. Two people hold the poncho like a funnel, slip bowl in the poncho's neck, another shakes the branches, genius engineering. Laugh your way to a peck of free sweet berries, go to work.

On the highway by noon, expect the unexpected accident/road shut down by two, take uncharted tree-lined road where your car stopped. Promise you'll get for GPS next time, turn left. Be delighted by a sparkling lake on the right and the antique store in the middle of no where. Turn around in the next parking lot where the local girl scouts happen to have a dog wash stand. Drop the old dog off in the hot lot with the darling girls and make donation, go to work, collect fresh dog, take pictures, that's fun, continue. Child pick-up delayed, stop for homemade burgers at roadside grill, disregard smell, enjoy burger. Arrive at friend's home in paradise, hug your child, join adults for cocktails on the deck. It's really hot in the late afternoon heat, put on suits, jump in Lake Michigan, leave as not-so-fun mosquito party starts. Retire to the aforementioned hotel-like accommodations, sleep. Wake up and leave by noon, buy van from old client, rekindle friendship. Have fun firing off business possibilities as you peel off your last dollar. Stop on the way home for family party, eat, always fun when your other sister is cooking, endure fireworks, go home, sleep is the new fun.

Stay tuned for next weeks productive and fun work/play retreat workout to the East Coast!

The essence of imagination is a lack of focus

Braniac Danny Hillis said this and is making millions by flitting from idea to idea (fascinating story see www.esquire.com). Is it vindication or hope I feel? Would anyone go along with this statement that I'm working all the time even though it looks like I'm pub crawling or making cookies or reading the New York Times?

Washing down the calamari with those yummy margaritas at El Barzon (www.elbarzonrestaurant.com) reminds me I have to wash those big tuna nets so I can cut them up for drapes. It's the complex layering of many and sometimes disparate elements that creates this seductive moodiness that I'm convinced draws people to places like third stop Cafe d' Mongo's (www.cafedmongo.com).

If it's now the secret to success to have several ideas firing at one time, the money should be rolling in anytime now. However, you might have to simplify some things to be fresh and productive, so Larry Mongo like yours truly, limits the hours of operation (the cafe is only open Friday nights). Me, I need some baking time. The other night while creaming the sugar and two sticks of butter, but before adding the eggs, a big decision was made to just go for it and do the red and putty-flecked, fabric-covered wiring with those black enamel shades. You don't add the flour until after all the wet ingredients are blended. It's a scientific procedure you have to follow. The washers and the bolts will attach the socket and shade together on a short length of eighth inch threaded rod and then that unexpected bit of colorful wire coming through and up to the canopy. Just right, don't overbake it.

The truth is it's all I can do to keep this entry to three ideas and the inventory to one truck load. It's about editing and I can't type too much longer, my shoulders are so sore from pulling the mass of grape vines off my building yesterday. I thought I was relaxing and being really efficient. You can really get into the zone gardening and I was making good progress editing the list of inventory. Plus the weather was gorgeous, Mark was outside playing beautiful music and I just lost track of time.

Speaking of time, I just read in the Times that they are covering trucks with artwork and glittery bits in Pakistan. I would love to do that, but I shudder to think how much extra gas you'd burn with the additional weight. Weight. Man am I feeling it across the top of my shoulders.

Ask Not What Your Garbage Can Do For You...Ask What You Can Do With Your Garbage

These are not garbage, these are the white ones... it's a complicated story, naturally

These are mine...and definitely not garbage nor white....am I making this complicated?...Maybe

This is, or was, garbage, but someone bought it so it's not, here's the story...Breathe

Up early with the phone and now thinking...and drinking coffee...always a dangerous combination...and came up with this genius title while writing on facebook (http://www.facebook.com/heritageco2) about some salvage I skimmed off the top of the bulldozer's bucket (true story) when an idea (or more) came on. And, that is: there's nothing new under the sun (not this idea anyway) and plenty of old crap lying around (which isn't new either but free.), It just requires cleverness, and now about the ringing phone...

Today's requests (three before 7am) First, I NEED THREE END TABLES FOR MY PARTY THS AFTERNOON...no rush, just something cute, yet stubstantial, something "Detroit-y" for a big Detroit group...that can be outside and kicked over and not break cause we really just want to borrow it and actually not buy it...Of course I have the perfect thing, why else call me at 7am and the last minute? So, I'm gonna take some crates from the curbside mall and spray paint them (the crates not the people...hmmm) with...You guessed it.. " A BEAUTIFUL DETROIT BEGINS WITH YOU." Marketing savant that I am, I'm subtley selling the idea that this is now a cool thing that you need to BUY, AND, if not this exact thing, we'll whip up something else on what's lying around that you now want but need differently.

NEXT.... a set designer needs 1970's chic patio furniture for a pool scene of drug dealers, lots of them, dealers and chairs alike, but deco and groovy and they are in my backyard, well some and not white and not deco. There's a guy who said he knew of lots of them, but now can't find the guy with them, and would I want mine painted white? And why isn't the guy answering his phone? (that's the second guy) now that she needs them NEXT WEEK so she can have little yellow pads made for them. Maybe he's out of town, the second guy, she and he said, that's her and the first guy, and where's the concerta?... I guess they can be white, mine that is, if that guy fails to appear and/or changes his mind, are you with me? I forgot his number, oh yeah, he's two...sigh, getting paid is plenty clever in this business.

MOVING RIGHT ALONG (faster, it's after 10am now) the money is in from the last guy (which is a different guy than the first two, which makes three, of those who called before 7am, breathing). I gotta pick up the money from his bank and give it to another guy who is selling my guy, number three, a table, but not for the patio,...and now my other guy who never calls before 7am because he's a friend and isn't buying nor selling me anything, is coming to help me do my accounting, for free, which is nice and not clever nor garbage, but tiring so I'm making more coffee.

Designer Drug Dealer Digs and You

Making the rounds of my favorite haunts in the city with an Elmore Leonard movie set in mind, I found a few stylish items that transition from a 1974 era drug dealers' hideaway to your home or place of business.

While the deal can be done nicely on this vinyl sofa, it's the perfect place for your toddler to spill his juice while watching t.v. Nothing like vinyl for easy clean up of sticky blood or sugary beverages. It sure looks great here in my driveway, where I dragged it from the neighbors. Instant office, just add laptop and my daily drug of choice, black coffee. When my colleagues showed up, we commenced our meeting, brilliant isn't it?

And how about these candy-colored lounge chairs? That fresh poppy lime and kelly green, safety orange and cherry red brings a room to life while someone else's is getting taken. And whether your selling kilos of cocaine or car parts, they offer a crisp professional look. Equally smart in the family or living room, these are really versatile with a contemporary or mid-century white or black leather sofa and great with danish modern teak furniture. I wouldn't hesitate to use them as dining chairs, you could pair them with a classic white Saarinen tulip table, the popular 50's retro Heywood Wakefield table, an industrial steel table or contemporary chrome and glass table. Whether on the lam or the run, you'll dine in style. Super clean, comfortable and lots to choose from.

Now hear me out on the lowly commercial carpet square. I know your standard issue detective office does not say high design, but when I saw this sea of similar but different patterns in all these shades of office greys, beiges, mauves and blues, I saw creative possibilities. Endless patterns made with different patterns, I'd mix it up and make a rug of one and a border with another. Don't stop with two patterns, create an optical illusion and expand outward making every border different. You could do a checkerboard or diamond pattern, stripes, or...maybe you should sit down, relax and let me do it since I kind of have an idea anyway. Like Jack Foley says, "you'd be surprised what you can get when you ask for it the right way."

Third Round Draftpick Team Steampunk

Somehow I got it backwards. Aren't you suppose to start out living the gypsy life and then becoming conservative by the time you're crowding 50? Me in a suit, coiffed hair, heels at 25... that was an interesting role. Now I'm wearing 1900's french peasant clothes, enthusiastically describing an antique dealer's life on the road, adventures in foreign lands, the glitz the glamour, to a group of renaissance/goth/comicons on the steampunk tour.

I've just been told by the insiders that I'm now one of them. Seems like just yesterday I was with the green party, draft-picked from the shabbily chic having been picked up from the strictly architectural farm team. The making new things out of old things keeps me in rotation. I'm gonna have to sit out sword fighting and dungeons and dragons games and hope they overlook the ripped jeans and workbooks under the tophat and tails. I like costumes but I don't think I can play in a cinched corset. My longevity depends on adapting my market strategy but still be brand heritage co2. It's still about finding cool stuff, in this case gadgets and old machines, figure out what to do with them and get it built.

I am intrigued by the intricate fabrications and the engineering of this stuff. You gotta check it out (www.steampuffin.com). The tricked out wheel chair, computer desk on a victorian printer's stand, old typewriter parts and an armature holding a skull with glasses…provide a much needed new way of looking at antiques and design. And boy do we ever need to find a fresh market. Our hosts, The Charles River Museum of Industry and Innovation, is promoting preservation of America's manufacturing heritage which fits right in with my message. The Steampunk City event in their hometown of Waltham, Mass. drew 10,000 aforementioned costumed steampunks..and curious locals. The movement is building momentum and a following all in less than two years, pretty impressive.

The 1950's folk art tractor and the floor lamp put together with an adjustable 1920's automotive headlight and a fine wooden surveyors tripod I brought got a lot of attention. So here I am wearing what amounts to old cotton undergarments and telling stories about how this all came to be. It's in the gypsy job description, that and wearing lots of hats, changing costumes and personas, keeping the act fresh and selling the new show from town to town. It's an interesting life and somehow there's always money to keep the show on the road. Best of all, you don't have to wear pantyhose. But for Godsake, don't tell the parents who put yours truly through university thinking I'd be an engineer, you know the regular corporate kind.