No secret to me



 

Dear Readers; I have been just too busy to write,but came across this article that I would like to share,being on the inside of retail the articles points are not new to me. Thanksgiving is just around the corner so my life should return to its normal madness in a week or so, get ready for some juicy postings on Christmas present. This year Christmas is really CHRISTMAS,in all its red, shiney,gaudy,glory. Retailers want you to SPEND,take my word on it,to hell with this endless depression...Here's a few recent Holiday resets [to illustrate my point] from my clients, Annie Prue and My Kids Korner...harbingers of Christmas yet to come. You might want to read the link [to savvy up on what I actually get paid for] before you set out on your own gift buying mission. Fore-warned is fore-armed.  





http://www.cracked.com/article_18805_5-ways-stores-use-science-to-trick-you-into-buying-crap.html





Festive beyond

Annie's dressed for Christmas




And further beyond

  


Holiday resort for the little ones

 





and Ella Annie's mascot,an old friend of mine









 









My Second 40 year Reunion

This has been a year of reunions for me. This past summer I attended my 40-year high school reunion an event which covered those friends from grade school through high school. Next month is the 40 year reunion for those who were fortunate enough to have survived the South Street Renaissance A gathering of counter culture drawn from all areas of Philadelphia. Artists, actors, poets, chefs, bakers, retailers and every other possible creative endeavor, all migrated into an all but completely abandoned area known as South Street

528 S.4th..the apartment

 

                                                    

Once a thriving Jewish neighborhood, city plans to tear it down for a cross-town express way left it largely unoccupied. The area became a haven for really cheap real estate and rentals.[we later won the battle to prevent the freeway] I wrote the following story to submit to the South Street Reunion blog. This is a perfect follow up for my high school friends to get a taste of my life post graduation, the years from 1970 thru about 1983.


               My First Apartment

South Steet Boat Ride



South Street….It seems like yesterday or centuries ago, I am not sure. I think it’s appropriate that a duality exists in my recollection of the years that I lived at 528 S 4th St... I still have dreams about my apartment, I can in my minds eye still walk in that door again as if no intervening years had occurred. I will never again experience the feeling of commonality of purpose and the artistic fervor of the years I lived on South St. It was a very exciting period of my life. After a cup of coffee and my dream state dissolves, I have to laugh out loud, Are you kidding? That roach infested 65-buck month dump, glad that's over! [the duality]Sentiment has a way of making even the worse scenarios seem endearing. Sure I miss those "Good ole days”  I had nothing, just my clothes a few treasured trash finds and a great deal of creative energy.What I did have,that money could never buy, was large band of other creative types within four city blocks. Being twenty-one years old then was a great deal of fun. It was tough surviving but no tougher than the present [which is no fun at all] We had friends and you could always find a meal,the communal 60's were still alive and we all helped each other through hard times, after all "When you got nothing you have nothing to lose" is the difference, things are a good deal more complicated now.

Garrick

I was attending P.C.A. [the only name I ever use] It certainly was not the “University of the Arts” when I attended. I remember clearly walking into Stein Real Estate on third just south of South St. to inquire as to the availability of apartments. Stein cigar in mouth peered over his glasses, “Whatcha want kid” an apartment I replied, “What’s yer price range” something under a hundred… “Figures” he muttered, “You in Art school?”, yes sir, I said trying hard to be polite because I hated him already,”Yeah I got one but don’t go thinkin yer painting the walls black or any of that hippie stuff ya hear?”…Leo hated the influx of art types that had replaced all the prosperous merchants of his heyday on South St. that sure didn’t stop him from renting some of the worse pits imaginable. “65 bucks a month, 2 months rent up front” as he threw the keys on the counter,”528 4th second floor, go let yerself in”, the phone rang as he motioned me out the door, “and bring the keys back when yer done! Ya hear me!” yes sir and fuck you very much I thought, Philly was sooo polite and genteel [not really]  living in the art students ghetto. I certainly did not share my excitement about the prospect of living on S.S. with Leo, for fear he would raise the rent. Where am I going to get 2 months rent 130 bucks was a lot of money, I was only making 2.75 an hour working part time for the Peasant Shop on Spruce St. no matter,

I can hit Dad for a few bucks, [I really miss my parents]

Elizabeth,John Waters and Divine at Lickety

As I turned the corner onto fourth I could hardly contain myself, 528 was three doors from the Banane Noir and four from Lickety Split, Wow! I have truly arrived, the epicenter of  cool, hip counter culture. I fumbled with the keys until I managed open the street door, there in front of me was one two-story stair terminating with a patch of sky. Someone must have left the roof door open,[later I was to find out that there was no roof door] as I went to insert the key into the apartment door the entire handset fell to the floor, I must inform Leo that there is no lock, [buts that’s a whole long story, for another writing]



La Banane









As the now lockless door swung open, I got the full view of the ingenious décor, day glow shades of neon blue, orange and green, punctuated with black, I realized immediately why Leo made disparaging remarks about art students, it seems this apartment was the cause. The color scheme was a minor issue compared to the flooring. As some of you may remember Klinghoffer’s carpets used to occupy the corner of Leithgow and South right around the corner. It seems in a drug-induced moment of creativity the previous tenants came up with a brilliant solution. After a few dumpster dives yielded up a number of carpet sample books they were disassembled and individually NAILED to the floors in a pattern not unlike the patchwork jackets which were then in vogue.A nightmare especially because of the number of dogs and cats, which left their fur coats behind, sprinkled liberally all over everything Another unique feature was a wall in the front room the inhabitants had attempted to remove the plaster to expose the brick. After a large area had been completed the project was abandoned,[ due to the difficulty of removing plaster applied directly to brick] Im sure they returned to their carpet installation which was easier.The rest of the flat was equally unique in its poetic urban decay. The bathroom contained an extremely dingy legged tub, a toilet that must have dated to Ben Franklins posterior and a sink with separate taps for luke warm and freezing. The kitchen was alive with a number of residents that paid no mind to the change in management. The gas stove had seen way too many briskets and the icebox was just that, a box with a HUGH glacier that occupied two thirds of the interior. The window sashes were all missing the counterweight ropes [requiring the stick a book to hold it open technique] What am I getting myself into? I thought, my suburban Cleveland upbringing had not prepared me for anything like this. When I look back upon that first day on South St.I muse to myself that without the naiveté of youth my tenure there would have never occurred. I threw myself blindly into a renovation [solely at my expense] Cohen’s hardware [of course] was responsible for many South St face-lifts including mine. The JW thrift [my decorator of choice]provided all the mohair sofas and Maxfield Parrish prints, one needed to create the perfect retro statement that was de’riquer in the mid 70’s, [it's hard to believe that all that stuff used to sell for five bucks or less] Boy! have things changed.

South Street Block Party '74'

All my labor did pay off when I was asked to participate in the annual “Hippie House Tour”, an ironic twist considering I had completely eradicated the original hippie interior. Time moves on and South St moved with it. The house tours opened that secret enclave of the terminally creative to the eyes of Philadelphia at large and some say that was the beginning of the end .I for one will never forget my fellow "Urban Pioneers" and the sense of community that was South St. “The Hippest Street in Town”





Something I recieved and just had to post....Thanks Terry

• 
  
  

   Subject: Truths for Mature humans

 1. I think part of a best friend's job is to immediately clear your
     computer history if you die

 2. Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you
     realize you're wrong.

 3. I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was
     younger.

 4. There is great need for a sarcasm font.

 5. How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?

 6. Was learning cursive really necessary?

 7. Map Quest really needs to start with # 5. I'm pretty sure
    I know how to get out of my driveway.

 8. Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you
     how the person died.

 9. I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.

 10. Bad decisions make good stories.

 11. You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at
       work when you know that you  just aren't going to do anything
       productive for the rest of the day.

 12. Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after Blue Ray? I
       don't want to have to restart my collection...again.

  13. I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it
        asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten-page technical
        report that I swear I did not make any changes.
   
  14. I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not
        to answer

  15. I think the freezer deserves a light as well

  16. I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or
        Saturday night more kisses begin with Miller Lite than Kay.

  17. I wish Google Maps had an "Avoid Ghetto" routing option.

  18. I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and
        hunger.

   19. How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just
         nod and smile because you still didn't hear or understand a word they
         said

   20. I love the sense of camaraderie when an entire line of cars team
         up to prevent a jerk from cutting in at the front. Stay strong,
         brothers and sisters!

  21. Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not

        know what time it is.

 
  22.. The first testicular guard, the "Cup," was used in Hockey in 1874 and
         the first helmet was used in 1974.That means it only took 100 years
         for men to realize that their brain is also important       
         .

A Dream I had

To the class of 1970


It has been a week since the reunion and the thought still lingers. It's difficult to express how I feel about the whole process leading up to and the reunion itself, so many realzations it's hard to decide what to write. It has been 4 months since the preparation began and in some ways the planning was the most fun [and challenging] Reuniting with classmates and working out all the details gave everyone the opportunity to truly re-connect [for better or worse]  in many ways I was truly thrust back in time, not unlike planning the winter formal or one of those silly sock hops in the gym, [get out the crepe paper].Get ready here I will attempt to put it all in perspective.

Rocky River, Ohio, how lucky we all were to have spent our childhoods in such a beautiful town, [oak trees on the beach for instance]. Although time has brought many changes to its fabric,[namely  Westgate, hate it] it is essentially the same, the winding streets of tangle town still hold for me the same feeling of permanence and well established order, they imprinted upon me as a child and teen. An vision of social order that I still carry with me to this day, search as I may I have never found a similar example anywhere else. Rocky River was the fulfillment of the post war American dream for our parents and we were the fortunate recipients. As I wandered past each house I found that I still remember each inhabitants name, the Long’s, the Keidels, the Brook’s, the Kennedy’s the Zannes, the Luck’s. It seems to me that every house held a classmate,and you knew them all. [the baby boom were us] By national standards ours was a small class, that small size made it easy to become familiar everyone. Our class [like no other] was caught in the center of the erupting social change of the 60's. We set out to change the world, ironically the world and the passage of time has changed us instead, except for one commonality we all share..growing up in Rocky River. Of course the other reason is that we have less time in front of us than behind, hence the reason for the current solidarity we are all feeling for the class of 1970. Admit it! we all miss that simpler time that was our youth.

The idyllic life we led in the fifty’s and sixty’s is made bittersweet by the state of our world today, our peace signs and loud protests pale in comparison to the tragedies that have transpired since. This reunion seems to have been more important and necessary than all the previous gatherings. There was a greater need to touch home, perhaps it is our curiosity as to how others of a 'certain age' are holding up or is it the sad state of a nation that seems to be losing its meaning. I venture to say the reason is, the need to connect with our first friends. The desire to embrace our past and the people and places that made us who we are today. The process of aging has a way of making it easier to remember the distant past more clearly than yesterday, it’s as if the older we grow the younger we become..[that’s a real good thing] it's as if you start living your life all over again. This reunion really brought it home for me. This is where it all started. Despite the years between we all still see each other through the eyes of an adolescent, the us full of promise and exciting expectations...the affirmation of who we are by our first and most influential peers is what we are seeking.

As the years have passed it has become apparent to me that our lives are not about things.

Life is about the others with whom we have laughed,loved,fought,forgiven and in some cases lost too soon. The sight of so many of my first friends gathered together once again brought a tear to my eye, especially during these difficult times. To connect again with those who shared my dreams for the future when our lives lay in front of us, that’s what is important to me now. It’s comforting to realize we still have our common bonds and we are not alone in this challenging ride through time. Thanks to all, and thanks for being you.

“I wish I may I wish I might sit simply in that room once again, ten thousand dollars at the drop of a hat I’d give it all gladly if our lives could be like that”

Bob Dylans Dream

The Working World

Welcome to the dark ages of retailing

It has been awhile since my last posting. The reason is that I have been too busy to write and somewhat embarrassed to admit what I have been up to. As most of you know life in the new depression has been rough to say the least, and like many other self employed, independent fools I decided that I would attempt a part time job. How bad could that be? I thought, maybe two days a week, I can handle that. BOY was I wrong!. Months ago a good friend of mine told me of a retail merchandising company [who shall remain nameless] that was hiring part timers to maintain large manufacturers in-store displays. This company had been sending me Email notifications of openings in various areas throughout the country, so the day that I received one for the Philadelphia area I said OK let me give this a try. They sent me an online test to evaluate my interpretive reading skills, and my familiarity with retail practices and fixturing. After subjecting myself to this humiliating and asinine set of questions and "What's wrong with this picture" tests I hit the submit button. No less than twenty minutes later the phone rang..Mr. Kriaris? asked the excited voice, yes I replied, we have never had an applicant as qualified as you [that should have been my first indication that this job was not for me] really I said, well I've been in retail for a number of years. that’s clear from your test scores, he said. There it was I landed a job in an hour...pretty good I thought. being unaware of the horror that lay ahead.

They can't give them away

A few days later I spoke to my D.M. [District Manager] A chirpy lass with lots of spunk, I hate spunk, [the second indication to bail]..She spoke fluent corporate. We will send you your orientation kit and your hand-held Device…Device? What kind of device is she talking about, it couldn’t possibly be the first thing that popped into my dirty little mind, so I let it pass, She went on and on about Call Reports, weekly conferences calls, and a thousand sites on their links that will answer all my questions and how I will assigned a mentor, A mentor? I think I’m a little old for that, but I kept my mouth shut..

Yet they keep building new ones

I made it clear to her that I wanted the minimum number of hours due to the fact that I still carry a client load. Oh yes we can do that she replied. I will send you this weeks Call report that outlines your store visits for the next week….as she tried to say goodbye, I asked...How much does this pay? Oh, I almost forgot,12 dollars an hour, she chirped like it was great…I wanted part time work not volunteer work, I thought, but again I remained silent.

In a matter of hours my "Call List" showed up. A call is the listing of retailers you are expected to visit by any given deadline, but most are within the week for "product maintenance" The retailers are varied but the products like Hewlett Packard and Sony are carried by numerous retailers and are their clients. Essentially you are performing the same tasks over and over in different stores who carry their products. The list of retailers reads like every strip center in the country. Walmart, Kmart, Kids R Us, Office Depot, Rite Aid Drug, Circuit City blah,blah,blah [certainly not places that I frequent]. After reading the call list the fact that each visits length had been pre-determined,caused me to seriously regret that I had accepted this job. Not only had the performance of the duties on the site but also the driving time and fuel expenses had all been neatly laid out with “not to exceed time limits” unless approved by D.M. I will site an example and remember the pay rate is 12 bucks and hour, a job that 30 miles away at 32 cents a mile and 20 a minute install time comes to $10.40 in gross pay with no consideration for Philadelphia traffic, which has become impossible.. 60 miles in Phila. is 2 hours easily if your lucky. In my pre-recession days that would have been @ 45.00 per hour = $135.00. Lest I forget, the costs of leaving home to arrive at your first destination is considered “driving to work” and NOT eligible for reimbursement. What a RIP!.. I can stay home and follow up potential jobs by phone and eventually make 6 times that. This was a mistake…..but the story does not end here.

Roosevelt Blvd in the Un-Great Northeast not my favorite drive.

In the hand book it points out that you are responsible to introduce yourself to the manager of each store you visit and engage in conversation to seek possibilities of more and better exposure for the clients product. In order to increase sales. What a joke, so everyone makes more money than I do….NOT ON YOUR LIFE! for twelve bucks an hour? You have to be kidding. Not only are you suppose to increase sales you are asked to take along Windex and paper towels to clean the products you are attending, a service that cleaning companies charge more than twelve bucks an hour for. All of this you are suppose to perform while sales people stand around and cruise for potential date material,[especially in Wal-Mart’s audio dept.] After you have completed said tasks you are then required to take photos and fill in report questions recounting your experiences on your hand held Device. A six year old blackberry with an attached pointer, that was a great deal of fun. These devices had obviously been through multiple owners and been the subject of fits of rage more than once [even I threw it across a parking lot] They were conveniently equipped with batteries that held no more than five hours charge, a problem when one is trying to knock out nine stops in a eight hour day. When I asked for a car charger I was told that they are unavailable, that’s real helpful I thought, fine, I’m going home... and its not to charge it up and come out again, I assure you. Maybe you should take your Device and put it where I originally assumed it belonged.

This used to be a market..I wasn't cut out for suburban living

That’s the end of the first week. The following week I received a call report that went on forever, with a happy little note from my D.M. stating that it was not as long as it looked because a number of tasks were located in one store. That made me feel better, sure it did, not really. I was still behind on the first weeks list. Determined to stick this out until I had received my first paycheck,[to see what one really makes doing this] I took a deep breath and through my self back into the battle. By this time my D.M. had stopped communicating with me and turned me over to my “mentor” Jack was a retired Viet Nam vet who tried to answer my questions but frankly could not. I think it was because I made too much light of the exploitive tactics within the companies structure. I must say I found this concept of mentoring nothing more than a corporate ruse to save money on training and exploit other employees who received nothing for their time in training new inductees. Jack and I had only one session together when we pushed shopping carts around a super market as he explained how to attach suction sign holders to dairy cases. I will concede that I actually enjoyed the super market visits, firstly it was cold and comfortable and I found that the employees by in large were knowledgeable and pleasant. Not to mention the covert consumption one could commit while pushing that cart around.

My idea of Hell on earth

The second week dawned with me still behind schedule and receiving emails to that affect from my D.M. who would remind me daily of the closing date. It was becoming painfully clear to me that this “part time” had become “full time” I had been postponing a call to Toys R Us [my least favorite next to K Mart] The list of duties was absurd, first an inventory count on video games that was endless, next was a count on collectible trading cards [on subjects that I had never heard of... all that Anime stuff ] which also included removal, packing and shipping back to manufacturer dated and expired whatever [which meant utilizing the devise in scanner mode] this I truly hated, the thought of struggling through this with the device was more than I could stand. My attempts at a rapport with the manager on duty were useless, she knew less than I ....[but what does a 17 year old know anyway]  and she was on register duty [due to salary cutbacks I’m sure] ..Ok then I will give the video games a try, the Device kept returning to my instructions to build a relationship with management, which really pissed me off, so instead I went to my car and faked the whole inventory, there you go, this is what you deserve. I skipped the trading card thing altogether and went home. I simply stated in my report that..... NO MANAGEMENT PRESENT...I’m sure that this method was used by others put in the same position by the devise, which makes it painfully clear that the info gathered for the manufacturers is useless. The services that my employer claims to provide to their clients is for the most part a falsified.

When I arrived home I found my first paycheck in my mailbox, this is going to be the deal breaker, I’m sure, I mused to myself and sure enough it was. There in black and white; GROSS PAY $80.00 ,NET $64.32….and that included mileage. That amount barely covered the fuel it took to perform these tasks not to mention all the prep time spent on Map quest trying to create a logical route to all the locations. That’s its, I resign! ....Before I could inform my D.M. that it was over for me I read another call report that she had sent me, I had neglected a Rite Aid Drug store some 30 miles from my home for a 20 minute call,[all of $4.00 pay] isn’t that a shame? I wonder how that happened. I wrote her a polite Email note saying that I regret that my other work makes it impossible for me to continue this endeavor ...Thank you very much, That signaled the end of my corporate career.

I must share that this was an experience that I will never forget. I have a new appreciation and respect for those who must support families and mortgages in this sort of employ. I also have a renewed contempt for those who take advantage of others less resourceful and talented than I. My working career has always centered upon that 1% of privilege and wealth, serving their favored speciality retailers. This interlude has given me another view into the retail sector and its practices in areas other than my own small niche. No matter how tough the past few years have been for me, many out there have it far worse than I. I have always managed to keep a few “irons in the fire” and am extremely fortunate that some how I can always pull one out when needed. Even in the worst of times

Delman Shoes a classic

Delman now there’s a name that’s been around. It conjures visions of Bonwit Teller, Franklin Simon, Kelly Kitt and other "Specialty" women’s stores of the post war era. Elegant stores with mezzanines, tea rooms and millinery departments with individual dressing tables. These were the shops that under protest my mother dragged me through as a child. Little did I know that 50 years later I would be trying to recreate that ambience. The black uniformed sales women who carried their own receipt pads and always referred to clients as Mrs. or Miss.who never spoke above a hush.”Is this going to be cash or house charge?" Would you like this delivered? Is Madame planning to wear this tonight? That’s all a distant memory in retail history, yet when the name Delman popped up recently in a clients shoe store I could not help but recall sitting next to my mother while she considered which shoe best suited her. They were Delmans her favorite. I jumped at the chance to recreate the display of that era. Dorothy Draper, the woman responsible for reinventing commercial retail decor has of late become my mentor, "make it gay" she would exclaim, [no problem there Dot] So here it is my small tribute to Dorothy and all the great retailers of the past and of course the famous Delman Shoes.

Sex and the City......again

           Once in a great while there comes along a window theme that’s just too good to pass by. the "Sex and the City" production is one those themes. I think it’s been 13 [ouch] years since the series debuted and became a national fashion phnom. The story of 4 women all distinctly different types and their romantic escapades set in the world of New York's high and low fashion, popular trends and ladder climbing careers. The scripts were brilliant, smart and oh so courant that one couldn’t help but hang on to every word of dialogue with vicarious delight.

                 The question most asked was "which character is your favorite" Fans quickly decided which character they most related to, wanted to be or were green with envy of. What could be a better wagon to hitch your fashion marketing to? none that I can think of.

                 The fashion was fabulous, new and very New York. Carrie an love advice columnist, young, introspective, petite with a shoe fetish, Miranda the lawyer, professional, disciplined, practical and a red head to boot. Charlotte a cute preppy, niave, Connecticut Yankee, and of course my favorite Samantha, an independent public relations executive with a voracious sexual appetite, who used men like disposable hand towels. The show had it all. I did my first S.A.T.C. window at the height of its popularity, it garnered attention like nothing I had done before, the comments were endless and the store traffic soared, the media also picked up on the window. It didn’t matter that we were not selling anything directly related to the show [with the exception of the large silk flowers that Carrie made famous] It was clear that the public had embraced the ladies.

                I have always said, "Timing is everything"  so always seize the moment, window displays are a fleeting instant in our cultural parade so....get it in… before it’s out. This brings me to a current window I just completed. I recently took on a new account, ladies shoe, bag and accessory shop. I haven’t dealt with shoes for quite awhile, but immediately the tune "In These Shoes" started playing in my head. A song that always brings back thought of Charlotte trying on a pair while the saleman caressed her feet. Yes! I will do it! Upon seeing the location and meeting with the owner a delightful, savy, fashionista...I realized that the opening of "Sex in the City 2" was the perfect opportunity to try it again, the die hard fans are still out there and the extensive pre opening hype had returned the subject to the lips of the ladies who lunch.

The resulting window is subtle, the tag line was not...I found a photo of Sarah Jessica wearing a great tee that stated "Fashion is not a Luxury" How's that for a perfect fit,[excuse the pun] Fashion is a necessity..it is at the core of everything we do, without fashion there would be no commerce and no me. We need fashion now more than ever, nothing lifts the spirit more in these dreadful days of recession than a new pair of shoes.

The window went in and I must say to rave reviews, better than those the movie received.This all  proves  that the connection is still there, strong as ever. Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte and Samantha still have what it takes.....and so do I.  Click here                   http://picasaweb.google.com/vardisellis/ViViG#

The "Must See" of the year

Click on Must See

Hey Stranger

Everyone has endured the angst of a class reunion at one time in their lives and I am no exception. I have a big one coming this summer. I cringe to say this is the 40 year reunion, and of course I have no idea how this event arrived so quickly. Where did the last 20 years of my life go? I had never planned on being this old, but just like Dad used to say.."They sneak up on ya".they sure did but this time they were behind the wheel of a Mack truck. I am not going to dwell on the subject of age, there is nothing new to be said, and absolutely nothing you can do about it. I will instead speak on renewing old relationships.


As a child and teen I lived in a small northern Ohio lake front town of some wealth and privilege, for which my parents [not of wealth] sacrificed and worked to afford me a better education. The classic American dream scenario, which the majority of baby boomers also experienced as well.” You are going to college whether you want to or not" was the mantra chanted across the nation in early 60s. Somewhere between Elvis and The Supremes my family moved up the ladder, so that I could benefit from a better school system. I was dropped into a world of sailboats, private beaches, country clubs and rich kids. Needless to say it did'nt take me long to get the hang of it, a problem my parents had not anticipated.


My childhood was picture perfect, cub scouts, skateboards, [fashioned from roller skates], tandem Schwinn bicycles, long summers picking up beach glass,[way before the jewelry] and a neighborhood full of kids my age, a child’s paradise. This idyllic childhood continued through junior high as I blissfully built model cars and attached baseball cards to the frame of my bicycle to simulate a Harley's roar.
The dream ended as time moved forward and it was off to HIGH SCHOOL. This was nothing like my carefree elementary days. Now the days were full of other more adult concerns,[we thought]..Now it was clothes, cars, Christmas trips to Vail, and which clique you belonged to. In case my term clique is no longer in common usage I will explain, a clique is a group of people that share certain attributes, physical, mental or financial. At the top of the heap were the beautiful, rich and athletic, the jocks, the "Lettermen" and their blond cheerleader girlfriends, next were the really smart kids, the brains and harp playing prodigies. The next group were the "Greasers” as we called them, these guys rolled their smokes in their tee shirt sleeves and hung out in the metal shop, and were always in the assistant principals office for one infraction or another. The female version still teased their hair..[way too 50s for the cheerleader types] wore black leather car coats and used four letter words. The last group was the ones that did not fit any of the above, the smart but undisciplined, the rebellious, the “A.V.” guys [record players and 8mm. projectors] the geeks, the just plain weird and retards, [before that label was banned] and last but not least the artists, poets, the theatrical types and those referred to as "sensitive"[no need to explain what that meant]


The hippie movement did not hit my school until 1966, prior to that year the art types were “rebels without a cause”. The Vietnam war and the Kent State shootings gave us all cause we needed to unite. Needless to say I was among those who embraced the anti war counterculture whole-heartedly, long hair, bell bottoms, and peace signs et al. The rigid social structure of my high school was turned upside down. The beach boys were deemed worthless and shallow, the beat poetry of Bob Dylan became the rule of the day. The age old caste system based on beauty and athletic prowess seemed hopelessly out of date as the protests increased. The school administrators tried to heal the wounds of social upheaval by creating a class called "Human Relations" the precursor of today's encounter group. We were supposed to confront each other on our differences to make for mutual understanding. A very edgy concept for the time, thinking back on it now I muse, what could be more ridiculous?, a room full of naive privileged white 16 year olds venting their political and emotional angst. The class at times was a disaster, with confrontations between factions often based on petty jealousies and who’s dating whose boyfriend, although there were moments when the prevailing class distinctions broke down and real exchange occurred, but it quickly disappeared as soon as the bell rang,so much for that high minded experiment in education.



What does all this have to do with my reunion? I will tell you. I have been actively engaged in the planning of this event for 3 months. In that time I have reconnected with a good many of my classmates. It is comforting and disquieting at the same time. I find that with many we can pick up exactly where we left off 40 years ago, and that we are the same despite the time elapsed. Some classmates to whom I never spoke have become new friends and many who were the polar opposite of me have changed their tune and explained in detail the reasons for the change,[Face book chat is perfect for cathartic exchange] and some I did not like then and still don't for all the same reasons. It seems we boomers are feeling our mortality. We were the generation that set out to change everything and some things did change. The irony lies in the fact that we are still fundamentally the same, the jocks, the cheerleaders, the greasers, the hippies... with one big difference the class distinctions have disappeared,we grew up,and time marched on, just maybe the concept behind the Human Relations class has finally come to fruition.

I am glad to see we all became adults,[finally] It is reassuring to know I'm not alone in the incomprehensible flight of time, and we can share our common history,laugh at our differences and enjoy each others company without the baggage of adolescence. Bonnie Raitt put it perfectly when she sang;
"Life gets mighty precious when there's less of it to waste"

Take a look at the reunion invite

Silver Linings

As I have stated before out of adversity comes opportunity. I have recently been acquiring work, not an unusual occurrence this time of year it is after all spring and a chance for retailers to come on strong with fresh products to tempt you a take that winter weary plastic out for a walk. The difference this year is that I have been hired by a real estate management company. In case you have not noticed a good many retail strip centers have been facing a high rate of vacancies. In the world of commercial real estate there is NOTHING more disastrous then a number of missing teeth in the happy retail smile of your local strip center. Full centers create curb appeal and keep the remaining tenants from complaining and paying rent. All of this has caused frenzy among rental agents and on site management. In the 80s and 90s they could turn away prospective tenants if they did not meet "our strict design criteria” not so any longer. While in a local management office, comfortably seated in a waiting area smartly furnished with Ikea, [the recession’s favorite decorator] I over heard talk of "Build out allowance" unheard of a few years ago, for those of you who do not know what a build out allowance is, read the following “We will pay to build it if you sign a 5 year lease" that’s how desperate they are. I have been hired to fill vacant stores with existing tenant’s merchandise. This is not a new idea, [at least not in my age bracket] but to those 30 something agents it’s a brilliant new concept, and I whole heartedly agree with them.Far be it from me to disagree,I need the work,but I can’t help but reflect upon the irony of this. Here I am a 35 year veteran of high end display and store planning, filling empty spaces with false commerce to perpetuate the illusion of affluence. I could say it’s my little contribution to re-establishing consumer confidence, but I don’t really believe that. I must admit that even I am surprised at this silver lining in these very cloudy retail skies.

The Pack Mentality

This season in men's wear has been a refreshing change from the last few. This slim 60's look has at least given me a hook to latch on to. The latest men's window at Ernesto gave me a chance to pull out the "Rat Pack" always an attention getter. The exploits of these men are the stuff of legend, and appeal to both young and old. link for more ....http://picasaweb.google.com/vardisellis/ErnestoPackMentality#

April in Paris...a bit early

http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/1QGIv5/www.gillesvidal.com/blogpano/paris.htm

How to be stylish

http://tmagazine.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/03/16/fabulous-dead-people-millicent-rogers/

The Winds of March

March.....its not spring, its not winter, it's the month before income tax, it can be 60 degrees one day and a snow squall the next and then it will rain for days on end, not my favorite month. March is also my birthday month, an event in my distant past that was a bright spot in a thoroughly forgettable month, not so any longer. I seem to be collecting more birthdays than a maternity ward. I have no intention of boring you, dear reader with a tedious list of platitudes and cliche's on the subject of age except to say that I have finally accepted the fact that I’m am fast approaching old, [the kind of old that your grandparents seemed to be when you were 12]. I have of late been detecting in my behavior a profound change, I no longer sweat bullets when a letter from the IRS arrives,[don’t worry you can have it all soon], I am more patient with my work and less patient with any external forces that disturb me, I say what I really think and I decided to open the latest mailer from A.R.P. Getting old has its advantages, young boys hold the door for you and address you with, and “Sir" life is good. The best occurrence is a return to my artwork, I retire early and rise extremely early to completely throw myself into my latest work, it’s an exhilarating experience that I have not experienced since childhood. My priorities have changed, and as they say [here comes the cliche] the older you get the less time you have to waste. I intend to make up for the years spent exploiting my talents on retail and create something of lasting interest and beauty. Those of you who are familiar with my work, Cape Cod has always been my favored subject and annual summer pilgrimage, today the infernal winds of March took me for one brief moment to a isolated dune and the total bliss of art and the wisdom of age.

The Real Me

The downward slide in retail continues and I grow more impatient waiting for jobs so I am spending more time painting. I have to admit I am enjoying it more than I expected, I don't know why I’m surprised it was the only thing I ever did well. I am now experiencing the same satisfaction I did as a child, locking myself away in my room to immerse myself in the subject I was drawing, for hours on end I would dream up apocalyptic visions of major earthquakes, crumbling urban landscapes and my interpretation of the demise of Krypton. My mother used to worry about my choice of subject matter, "Why don’t you draw something pretty?" she would ask, pretty does'nt occur to a 9 nine year boy especially one who devoured comic books like I did. Little did my mom know that my drawings were a harbinger of things to come. All one has to do is pick up any news paper to realize we live in a world of earthquakes, failing urban infrastructure, and uncontrolled development, I was right all along. For the last 4 months I have exploiting my skills with animal paintings, a decision made solely on the fact that I’m not earning what I used to before the fall, don't get me wrong I really enjoy the animal thing, but its not my first priority in subject matter. I still adore all things worn and in need of care, old cars, ships, gas station/diners, decay of any sort and of course corner tap rooms especially with quilted stainless steel exteriors. I awoke the other night at 1 A.M. with the over powering desire to draw a place that I have passed a thousand times, enough pets! So I grabbed my camera and off I went. Standing there in front of my chosen subject I realized the reason why I had to capture this image, to make it mine, to preserve it forever before it was wiped out by a developer’s condo madness or worse a nostalgic reinterpretation at the hands of theme seeking restaurateurs. This is the real thing, standing there before me and this is the real me.

I cant decide whether I think this is good or bad...what do you think?

Hit this link

Ernesto Custom Tailoring

Lets say that it has been a less than stellar year for my clients, so when I run across an article like the link below I get excited. Ernesto Custom Tailors has been a client for more years than I care to remember [my annual bottle of homemade Limoncello has something to do with my tenure] A family of old school tailors, their father Ernesto, whom I enjoy despite his Bob Hope vintage jokes and his sons Ed and Darrin carry on the proud tradition of custom clothing. Their attention to detail and customer service is remarkable and the products they produce are flaw less. In an age of cheap clothing and shoddy workmanship I am proud to say that I have been a part of their enterprise and the artful craft they provide...here's to you guys! this article is for you.

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/04/fashion/04CODES.html?th&emc=th

Some I agree with...... others should stop trying....what do you think?

http://lifestyle.msn.com/your-look/well-groomed-male/staticslideshowgq.aspx?cp-documentid=23312429&gt1=32002

Mad Men

My intuition is correct...It seems the 30 somethings are returning to the world of real clothing. This spells a brighter future for the men's clothing market which has had a miserable time of late. It's just a little bit of history repeating, as I remember my generation cast off conventional attire as well..only to embrace it later in life. This recession has made it necessary to keep ones job and to do so it is essential to play by the rules...no more casual anything, it's about time! Make no mistake Hollywood does not produce shows that no one will watch, " How I met your Mother" and "Mad Men" have been making waves of late, last nights Golden Globes is proof...It's back to suits, briefcases and tough negotiation's, it may by cloaked in nostalgia but none the less the message is clear, it's time to grow up. Hit the link below this is really entertaining.

Nothing suits you like a suit

Pet Portraits ....the progress

I have not posted in awhile because the pets have been keeping me busy. I must admit the artwork has been a pleasant change from the grind of retail. Spring seems to be shaping up a few design jobs have materialized and dismantling Christmas always makes January busy. I've posted a portrait that I am rather fond of, a beautiful dog and a perfect pose. It's like they always say, "Practice makes Perfect" and I think I'm getting the hang of this. I consider myself fortunate that during these tough times that I can turn to another discipline to augment my income.