Greetings from Ralph Archives

Monday, February 11, 2008

Right now I’m sitting in an airport terminal bored and tired. It’s been a very stressful past few days and with nothing to do but sit and wait it’s probably better for my physical and mental health to write stuff then to eat more airport hot dogs. Yesterday morning I went to my gym where I continued my quest for both mental and physical health. Frankly, I don’t think all of my hard work is working because every time I look my hair (what’s left of it) is a bit grayer and there are more wrinkles on my face then I care to admit. Nonetheless, a serious winter blizzard was well under way but I was accustomed to driving in winter and just did what I was supposed to do under the present circumstances. On my way home I stopped at two different stores to purchase a few mattresses that would complete the new set of bunk beds I had set up in my daughter’s new bedroom. Both stores were closed. I then traveled to the local lumber yard where I purchased a few sheets of plywood that were needed by my contractor. The young man who cut the plywood to the sizes I requested should have been in a different career as he complained about the job, paid little attention to the task at hand and literally wasted an hour picking his nose and trying, half-heartedly to figure out the huge saw he would use to cut the wood. I sincerely hope that he never applies for a job at my gallery.

As my wife would be using my vehicle I stopped at the local gas station and spent another sixty five dollars to fill up the tank. Once back in my truck my cell phone rang. My wife informed me that my daughter was in great pain with a serious ear ache. I drove home to find my daughter hysterically crying because of the pain. I immediately drove her to the local hospital about a half hour away.

Hospitals are funny places. Most people who work in them just pay attention to their jobs and basically ignore people coming in for emergency treatment. The woman who first greeted us was very professional and got us through the paperwork in just a minute or two. Keep in mind that my daughter was crying hysterically and it took nearly a half hour for a nurse to come and take her temperature. Realizing the situation she correctly got an MD to OK the administration of some short term pain meds. Fifteen minutes later my daughter was quiet. That lasted for about a half hour. The meds wore off and my daughter returned to state of discomfort. Finally an MD arrived, checked out her ears and concluded that it was a simple, yet painful ear infection. Unfortunately, my daughter was again hysterical. And after fifteen minutes of no one helping I twice took her to the nurses’ station and asked for help. And there they sat picking their noses, shuffling their papers and talking on the phone. It was the closest I had come in fifty years to really loosing my temper. How trained nurses and doctors could ignore my daughter and not administer some pain meds to a crying little girl is beyond me. If I had gone to the station one more time I would have clobbered someone. Fortunately my wife found someone to help. But it was almost an hour before someone retuned with more pain meds. There is nothing more discomforting then to see you child in pain.

Once we had the prescriptions we drove the nearest pharmacy were I asked the female pharmacist to "rush" my order. Needless to say I was disappointed as I listened to the three pharmacists gab about their hair-dos, their vacations, their boyfriends, and other crap. I was also shocked when they could not figure out how to correctly fill a bottle with a liquid antibiotic. It was inconsideration, unprofessionalism and incompetence at its finest. It was a troubling morning. Finally, we returned home where my daughter fell asleep and I hurriedly packed my bags for yet another trip.

And so after great effort of driving in a storm I finally arrived at the airport where I did the self check-in thing, checked my luggage and made it through the security line. Wanting a bite of food before I departed I took a chair in the airport restaurant. Two pilots were seated at the table next to me. They must have just landed as they talked about landing their airplane in the seventy five mile an hour winds. Their comments about passengers on their flight being quite upset about the bumpy ride did not go unnoticed by me. Nonetheless, after a sandwich I found the gate and eventually boarded the plane where I found my aisle seat and settled in. Nonetheless, I did notice how the plane occasionally shook as strong gusts of wind slammed us even as we sat on the ground. In time a large gentleman indicated to me that he had the window seat and I politely stood while he struggled to take his chair. Weighing at least three hundred pounds he needed an extension strap to finally fasten his seat belt. To my disappointment his fat arms and bulging midsection spilled over into my space and basically engulfed me. I resigned myself to my fate and repeated a familiar mantra that the flight was only a few hours long and I could endure it. Better times were not far away.

But as I repeated this over and over I could feel the plane shutter from the increasing wind gusts. Eventually the flight attendant (I dare not refer to them as waitresses or stewardesses) announced that because of the winds the plane needed to be "lighter" in order to take off. The plane was significantly overweight for the flying conditions and they needed a few volunteers to take a later flight. In exchange volunteers would receive a free ticket anywhere in the states. Of course I volunteered.

Unfortunately there were no other flights that evening and I was forced to spend the night near the airport. I finally arrived at the hotel at about 10PM, had a late night sandwich and fell asleep. At 4 AM the phone alarm rang and fifteen minutes later I was on my way back to the airport. With no problems I was assigned a seat and made it easily through the security line. At 5:30 AM I boarded the plane and settled in. No Problem. I was a happy guy. But something did not smell right. And I mean that literally. Everyone else noticed it too. We sat on the tarmac for nearly an hour and then were asked to collect our belongings and leave the plane. It turns out that the entire contents of the on-board toilet system had spilled into the plane and because of unsanitary conditions the plane had to be cleaned before we could depart. I can assure readers that I was very happy to be seated in the front of the plane and that those passengers seated in the rear, whose shoes were now soaking wet from standing in raw sewage, were quite happy to leave the plane.

And so there we sat in the airport. We waited as cleaning people came and went and did what they were supposed to do. Hour after hour we sat. The pilots eventually inspected the clean-up job and were not satisfied. Eventually a serious professional cleaning service (an old individual with a mop) was called in and did what they were supposed o do. And so there we sat. Most of the passengers had connecting flights and almost everyone on the plane had to be rebooked on other flights. Finally after six hours of waiting we were allowed to re-board the plane. Once on the plane the flight attendants profoundly apologized for the delays and gave each passenger a coupon for a $25 discount on their next flight! Big deal, I thought to myself. Frankly, most people on the flight, myself included, were significantly inconvenienced and felt like using the coupon as toilet paper.

Eventually I landed in Detroit. I found the Passenger Services Desk and was told that I would have to wait nearly seven hours for a flight to Salt Lake City. Once I arrived there I would have to wait a few more hours before I could get a flight to Bozeman, Montana. But I had two choices. I could bitch and moan and feel sorry for myself or I could enjoy the time away from my phone and just look at the day as a grand adventure and something to write about in my Newsletter. Being an optimistic guy I’ve actually come to enjoy many of the airports around the country. Many offer boutique shopping, good restaurants and good bookstores!

And so I purchased the new John Grisham novel titled THE APPEAL and got through about half of the book as I sat in the airport. I also had a sushi dinner during my wait. But there is something unsettling about having a fresh sushi dinner in Detroit. I can’t put my finger on it exactly but raw fish would taste better if it was icy cold and the rice would be better if it was tasty and moist and not chewy and room temperature. I’m not complaining in the least because I did not violently vomit a few hours after eating the raw fish.

I finally arrived in Bozeman late that evening and by midnight I was sound asleep in a hotel bed. The following day I attended a few meetings, met privately with a few business associates and had a great dinner with architect Larry Pearson, his family and another individual.

The following day I sat through a four hour meeting with a few of the most creative people on the planet. Frankly, it thrills me to sit in with mega talented people. The time flew by so fast that it was noon before any of us realized we had sat there for four hours. I’m not going to discuss the details of the conversation now but will do so in the future. Nonetheless, I will be begin work on a book about the works of Larry Pearson this coming summer and hope to have the completed project on the market in the fall of 2010.

That evening I drove through a serious storm to Chico Hot Springs Resort, about an hour east and south of Bozeman. It was only about twenty degrees outside and snow covered everything. I paid the seven dollar entry fee at the lobby desk, changed into my bathing suit and quickly entered the outdoor pool where the steaming water registered 98 degrees. And there I sat, soaking in the hot water, for nearly three hours. And frankly, I needed it. The stars appeared and an occasional passing cloud dropped large snowflakes that shimmered brightly as they fell on my face. An hour into my "soak" I struck up a conversation with a couple of "locals" who had spent the day skiing and were now relaxing in the pool as they had done for many years. We spoke about all kinds of things and the individuals with which I was speaking were apparently quite bright and wealthy. They owned a large home on the shores of the Yellowstone River just a few miles away. Throughout the conversation I asked the man three different times what he did for a living before he retired. Strangely, although he asked detailed questions about my life, he commented that he had been a failure at a bunch of things in his life and basically refused to entertain my questions. I left the pool wondering what he did to earn enough money to own a ten million dollar home in Montana. I suspect that I’ll never know. But I do know that I had floated by his five bedroom home on many occasions as I drifted the Yellowstone River fishing for trout. I would have loved to have known exactly what he had failed at to own such a home.

The week prior to my Bozeman visit my family and I journeyed to Phoenix where I photographed a great home owned and designed by interior designer Heidi Weiskoph, the daughter of famed golfer Tom Weiskoph. Frankly, the home was quite spectacular and it took several hours to complete the photography of this project. It was, however, quite an enjoyable day. The images of this home will appear in another upcoming book of mine due out in the fall of 2009. The following day we traveled down to Tucson where I met with an old friend. The meeting was held in his home which is, without a doubt, the most spectacular Southwestern style home ever created. His home, appropriately called THE HACIENDA, appears in my book The Rustic Home. That evening we had a great dinner with a number of folks. Because we had unfinished business we agreed to meet again four days later. In the morning we drove back up to Tucson and then departed for Zion, Utah which was supposed to be a gorgeous six hour drive. It took us twelve hours to get there. The winds were clocked at seventy five miles per hour and the ice and snow made driving almost impossible.

But if you want to see some extraordinary country check out the parks in that part of the world. It’s just north of the Grand Canyon and the scenery is gorgeous. It’s well worth the visit. At any rate we spent the night in a beautiful rustic home and in the morning I made photos of the setting for another project. We left later in the day and made our way down through Nevada. Frankly, I really enjoyed the warm weather and the scenery and would have been perfectly happy to drive back to Phoenix. Nonetheless, my wife wanted to spend the night in the pentacle of sin, Las Vegas. So after talking with a few different people at different hotels we settled on staying at the Paris Hotel right on the main drag of Las Vegas.

Frankly, I can’t stand Las Vegas. Too many people doing absolutely nothing. I must admit however, that the food we had was great as was the room. But it’s a strange place and strange places draw strange people who have strange passions and interests. After dinner we attended a showing of an IMAX presentation on life in the sea. My daughter found it to be quite fascinating. I however, felt it was just another Hollywood scam and it was quite apparent to me that most of the film was photographed at the local aquarium.

At 6 AM the following morning I wandered down to the main floor for coffee and a quick stroll. In the casino I watched with interest as a group of men sat playing black jack and sucking down bottles of beer. And they were apparently having a great time! So far be it from me to comment on the interests and lifestyles of others. The world is a huge place and there are all kinds of people in it. Nonetheless, I have better things to do at 6 AM then gambling, sucking down beers or pulling the arms on slot machines. But, hey, what do I know? I’m just another strange guy trying to make his way through life. And who knows…. maybe one of the people dropping quarters in the slot machines or playing black jack will win a million bucks and live happily ever after!

The ride back down to Phoenix was quite enjoyable. In the middle of the desert we found a seriously, out-of-the-way-place that advertised Chicago Hot Dogs! So we stopped and went in. And the steamed, Vienna hot dogs and the very greasy fries were, in fact, quite delicious! But I must admit that both my wife and daughter have serious genetic disorders. How anyone can put ketchup and nothing else on a hot dog is beyond me. It really is one of life’s mysteries and I will forever be troubled by the character flaws in my family. Hot dogs require mustard, relish, tomatoes, onions and a splash of celery salt. Anything other than that is pure and unadulterated blasphemy.

That evening we relaxed at an in-laws home in Phoenix and enjoyed a great meal and conversation. In the morning I set out by myself on a return trip to Tucson and drove by the stadium where the Super Bowl would be played a few days later. The night before a tragic accident had demolished four vehicles and injured many. I vowed to concentrate on driving instead of looking at the plethora of tents, Ferris wheels and other attractions that surrounded the stadium.

On my first trip to Tucson, a few days earlier, I noticed a sign on the road that read “Visit the Ostrich Farm” about twenty miles north of the city. And so with a few hours to spare before my meeting I found the sign and the farm that housed not only ostriches but fallow deer and parrots as well. And so, without delay, I paid my five dollars and was given a large can of deer and ostrich food! And for the next two hours I entertained myself by feeding the hundred or so fallow deer and trying my best to keep from being killed by the ravenously hungry ostriches that can ripe ones skin to pieces with just one bite! But the most fun for me was the parrot house. For a few bucks you can have a small paper cup of honey. You then enter an outdoor covered pen and are immediately accosted by dozens of hungry parrots. They land all over you and several succeeded in ripping out the hair growing in both my ears and in my nose. And they battle with each other over which one gets access to the cup of honey! It really was quite delightful but a few days later I had to explain to my wife exactly why I had spent fifty dollars on deer and bird food. I just pray that I don’t get audited by the IRS this year because I submitted the receipts to my accountant in hopes of writing off the expenses of the deer and bird food on my taxes.

Once I returned to Tucson I attended various meetings with business associates. In the evenings I stayed with friends at their home and enjoyed myself more then I had in a long time. The conversations went well into the night and encompassed all kinds of interesting subjects. It was a breath of fresh air for me. I departed for Phoenix and the airport very early in the morning. The ride back to my in-laws and the flights home were, mercifully, uneventful. A few days later my team, the New England Patriots lost the Super Bowl. Oh woe is me!

And to add misery to company my computer has crashed several times during the past three weeks. I can assure readers that this has been a nightmare for me. I returned the computer to the place that custom made it for me and I was assured, after paying three hundred dollars that the machine had been completely checked out and was in fine condition. They didn’t tell me that I had to re-install all of the software and other stuff. To make a long story short and to save me the agony of reliving the nightmare I eventually bought a new computer and I pray that my newly hired computer wizard can save my past ten years of work and install it in my new computer.

But life is how you perceive it. I had an interesting experience a month or so ago that reminded me of many things. I was at my health club early in the morning and it was a very cold, snowy day. Out of the window I could see snowplows pushing snow around and a few people struggling to get out of their cars and into their workplaces. As I pounded away on a treadmill a car pulled into a parking place about twenty feet outside of the window I was looking through. The car door opened slowly. In time an elderly lady dressed in a parka and wearing goulashes appeared. From the back seat of her vehicle she retrieved a snow shovel and made her way toward me shoveling each step of the way. I really didn’t know what to think as I couldn’t see any reason for her to be shoveling snow let alone being out of her home on such a day. But she kept at it. And it was apparently no easy thing for her to lift shovel after shovel of heavy snow. And frankly, I was worried for her.

But in time she came within a few feet of my window. Then she returned to her vehicle and reappeared several minutes later with a broom. With the broom she swatted the steel poles right in front of me and spent quite a bit of time cleaning off some platforms that rested on the tops of the poles. Once she had the platforms cleaned she returned to her vehicle and placed the broom and the shovel in her trunk. Then she reappeared with some large bags that she brought close to the poles and my window. From the bags she produced a scoop and placed its contents on the platforms just a few feet from where I was using the treadmill. Within a few moments several cold and apparently hungry birds landed on the platforms and began eating the bird food the old lady had brought for them. After a few minutes a number of other birds landed on her shoulder and seemed to thank her for her efforts. A slight and unmistakable smile came across her face she as she held out her hands containing birdseed and a few breadcrumbs. Black capped chickadees that were sitting on her head flew down and ate the food from the hands of the old lady. Then the wintering blue jays showed up and gobbled food from the platforms. In time the feeding stations were refilled and slowly but surely the old lady returned to her car and placed the containers of food in the trunk. Then ever so carefully she made her way on the ice to the front of her vehicle, opened the door, entered and then drove off into the falling snow. It ‘s a strange tale and, in truth, probably none of the others who saw her from the gym that day gave the old lady a second thought. But to me it was a brief look into the spirit of humanity, if not just that of an elderly individual. I really admired her and her strength. The pure pleasure of doing something as simple as feeding the birds is an experience worth fighting for. The contact with other living things, things other than humans, and to in some way feel their gratitude is one of life’s grand pleasures. For me feeding the birds on a cold day in winter is far more gratifying then playing black jack and slurping down beer at 6 AM in Las Vegas. But that’s just me and what I do and think is not right for everyone.

NEW STUFF

And so now I remind myself that I’ve just been rambling for a few hours and most people will probably wish I would stop with this stuff and get about the task of writing about the rustic furniture business. OK, OK
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My TV show, RUSIC LIVING WITH RALPH KYLLOE will probably begin airing in July. We’ve put a lot of work into the show and are thrilled that it may finally be on the air! I’ll post the times and stations that will offer the program once we have some final signatures on the contracts.

In truth I’ve not exhibited at shows lately. And with good reason. There’s lots of work and my gallery seems to be full with clients at all hours of the day. However, a great new show is happening this year in the Lakes region of New Hampshire. I have literally delivered hundreds of pieces of high end furniture and accessories to that region over the past few years and this show promises to be great! I have personally taken three booths for myself and will be selling my furniture and books during the show. And I’ll also be giving a slideshow presentation about rustic design during the show! If you’re a builder or have a business related to Cabins and Lakeside Living I really do believe that this show will be a great opportunity to exhibit your services and products to a very affluent and sophisticated retail market. I’M NOT KIDDING. And if you’re a vacation home owner or desire to become one then you really should consider attending this show. You’ll find all kinds of stuff related to cabins, camps and living the rustic life. The dates are July 18-19-20. The show will be held at the Gunstock Mountain Resort near Gilford, NH., very near Lake Winnipesaukee, NH. Trust me on this…….this will be a great show! Call Blain Anthony at 518 479 EXPO or visit their website at www.lakesidelivingexpo.com for more information.

My books continue to sell well and I am hard at work on four others as I write this. I find myself turning down more and more offers as my time gets gobbled up with both my work and my family. I hope to last another decade or so as nothing would thrill me more than seeing my daughter grow to adulthood. In all honesty I should hire someone to take care of lots of small stuff but I enjoy traveling, seeing the homes of my clients and making photos of great family compounds. Today I find that I’m less tolerant of people who don’t do what they say they’re going to do and I have no interest in people who don’t try to do their best. Life is very short and it’s over so soon. I’ll be sixty one years old this June and there are so many things I would like to do before I take the great journey to six feet under.

At any rate it’s now time to pack my bags as I’m heading off to Key West in the morning. I need a vacation and I’m going with my family for a relaxing week of doing nothing more than being a good dad and a good husband. Nonetheless, as I find it nearly impossible to sit still even for just a few minutes, I am bringing my laptop, cell phone and my old Dobro guitar. And I can guarantee readers that if you want to visit with me down there I’ll probably be sitting on some corner of Duval Street playing my guitar and hoping someone tosses some spare change my way so I can buy another plate of oysters on the half shell at the Turtle Krawls Restaurant!

My best to all of you,. Ralph

Sunday, December 23, 2007

It's the holiday season and I'm going to refrain from complaining about all kinds of stuff. Nonetheless here's a little "tid bit" that happened to us a few nights ago that some people might find interesting.

We were having dinner at the local Olive Garden restaurant just south of us. Most of the time we do not frequent the "chains" but we've come to enjoy the Italian food offered at this restaurant. Because we eat there often we know many of the wait staff and often banter with them as they attend to our needs. But on this day we were waited on by a gentleman whom we had not seen before. Nonetheless I started in on him right away.

"What kind of a guy wears black earrings?" I asked. I was making reference to the several black earrings he wore in each ear. He just looked at me. "Do they ever get rusty?", I asked. No response. "Where are you from?" was my next question as he served us bread and water. Keep in mind that this was no typical waiter. He was more of a tough guy in waiter's clothes. I would not have expected him to be in his present occupation. His head was shaved clean and his face offered dark contouring beneath his bleak eyes. His tight shirt and unbuttoned collar suggested a muscular physique and I suspected that he sported several tattoos of varying nature. I was not surprised at what happened next.

After looking me right in the eye he spoke. "I lived on the streets of New Orleans for a long time. I busted heads for a living". I was not surprised. I asked if he was in New Orleans during the hurricane. He then pulled a dozen tattered photos from his shirt pocket and said "I lost my entire life in the hurricane". The photos showed a demolished home in absolute ruins. Wrecked cars, twisted trees, splintered lumber and carnage were all that was left of his home. He then went on to say that he had gotten nothing from FEMA and felt completely abandoned by his community and his government. His anger and disappointment was apparent as he talked of his nightmares. Eventually, out of frustration and abject despair he and his wife moved to upstate New York to be near other family members. I could do nothing more than listen to his story and offer condolences. I hope to never experience the difficulties he had. He faced a hard road ahead. I wish the man and his wife well.

I've thought about the waiter often during the past few days and I'm reminded over and over again at how incredibly lucky I've been. I do not feel blessed by some fictional supreme being, I simply feel grateful for my ability to work hard and the luck I've had. I really do give thanks for the progress I've made in my life. Many people are not as lucky.

I'm not big on organized religions or mandates from supreme beings. Frankly, I find the world's religions both astonishingly hypocritical and arrogant. Stop and think about this. Everyday throughout the world forty thousand children die of starvation. That's everyday! And our great religious leaders are sitting in churches worth trillions of dollars. And here in America they don't even pay taxes on their properties. If they really were "Men of God" they would sell their properties and their big cars and buy food to feed the hungry and provide health care for the people who really need it. Does this make sense or am I off the wall?

Throughout the years I've had many long talks with religious zealots and have been told on many occasions that I would not be going to heaven because I have not been "saved". Many people have told me that the reasons they do good deeds is because they will be rewarded when they die by going to heaven where they will sit all day long basking in the glory of god. That's at strange approach to life for me. Frankly, I don't need the bible and I don't need the ten commandants and I don't need some guy foolishly dying on a cross to rescue me from my sins. All that is just folly to me. I don't do good deeds in hopes of profitable return. I don't do things because I fear the wrath of God. I don't misbehave because Moses told me not to.

I do good things because it's the right thing to do.

This is not that hard to comprehend. At some point most people grow up. In our hearts we intrinsically know what will be good for us as individuals, good for our families, good for our communities, good for our countries and good for our world. Good deeds done for the sake of "going to heaven" or for some other mystical reason are, in reality, doomed to failure. Deeds done in the hopes of some sort of reward are founded on greed, mistrust, egotism and selfishness. It's a sad day when we can't give something and not expect something in return.

This discussion could go on for all eternity. But I would like to think that somewhere in the hallowed halls of our own minds we all understand this. The world would be a much better place if we acted in a less selfish manner.

For me this is still a wonderful season. Actually, I really prefer Thanksgiving as a holiday but Christmas has its place. For me both holidays are a time for acknowledging others and in some way thanking others for their friendship and help. Both are times to reflect on the absolute miracle of being alive.

I also believe in helping others (that's why I'm not rich). This year we "adopted a family in need". A local social service agency called and asked us to help a single woman with three kids. Her fourth child had recently died and the mother was in the hospital. So my daughter and wife spent a few days buying and wrapping several needed gifts for the kids. It was a privilege to help them. It was the right thing to do.

For me, I still think of the guy who lost his home in New Orleans due to Hurricane Katrina. I left him a twenty dollar tip and my sincere hopes that life would get better for him.

Here's a typical day.

Friday, December 7. Woke at four AM and responded to about ten emails by 5AM. I then fed the cats, my daughter and my wife in that order. I called two clients to assure them that I would be at their homes later that day. I then hooked up the trailer to my truck and had to mess around with my trail hitch and trailer lights to get them to work correctly. My wife and I, along with an early rising employee loaded a seven foot tall, two hundred pound moose antler chandelier in the trailer. My plans were to make the deliveries and then be home no later than three in the afternoon. We left my gallery at about 9AM. First we drove into Manchester, VT., where we visited the Orvis Outlet store. My wife talked me out of purchasing another fly rod as I really don't need another one. On the way out of town we stopped for hot dogs at an outside corner vendor. I would have preferred Mexican food but my daughter wanted hot dogs. Most parents will understand that an eight year old girl stuck in a truck all day long can become quite emotional unless she has the food she wants for lunch.

The drive up to Stratton Mountain Ski area was far more hazardous than I expected. Ice and snow were falling and the truck, even in four wheel drive, began to slip and slide on the winding mountain roads. Near the top of the two mile driveway to the private home we actually began sliding backwards on the ice covered road. In time however, we made it to the compound where we picked up a few items and left off a few pieces that were requested by the decorators. The home, an absolutely spectacular 12,000 sq. ft. structure, will appear in a new book of mine due out in the fall of 2009.

At any rate the descent down the mountain from the home was nothing less than hair raising. My truck and trailer actually skid down the road for nearly a mile before finally stopping. Needless to say that there was enormous potential for disaster and I was warned by both my wife and daughter about driving more than five miles per hour down mountain roads.

At the bottom of the "hill" I inspected my trailer hitch and kicked off a significant layer of ice that had built up. As I kicked away a chunk of ice broke off and hit me in the eye. A half hour later I rinsed both eyes with a bottle of water but felt no relief. In time my vision blurred and with tears pouring from my left eye my wife drove me to a hospital in Rutland, Vermont. And there we sat for three hours before finally seeing an MD in the emergency room. Apparently I had cut the cornea of my eye and was given treatment and meds to help heal the wound. By now it was dark outside and we drove slowly along winding roads on our way to another delivery near Woodstock, Vermont. Finally, at eight PM we arrived at our client's home and stood outside in zero weather for quite some time before they answered their door.

Because we were so late the workmen who were to help unload the chandelier had gone home. So with great effort we managed to drag the chandelier across the ice and snow and into a barn where it would sit for another month or so before it and three others we're building are hung. We finally left their place at around 9PM. We found a restaurant a half hour later and enjoyed a great meal and several cups of coffee. From there I drove for nearly four hours through ice and snow back to Lake George. My wife and daughter slept for most of the ride home. Around 2 AM we pulled into our driveway and I was thrilled when a message on my answering machine said that my meeting with another client in New York City in the morning, just a few hours later, was cancelled. As I collapsed in my bed I thought to myself.... "just another twenty two hour day in the life of Ralph Kylloe".

Here's another one for you. During the past two months or so I've been on at least a dozen different airplanes. And I'm happy to say that most have been brief, unremarkable experiences. However, my return trip from Bozeman, Montana, back to Albany just about set my hair on fire. My flight was to be at 1PM from Bozeman. I arrived at the airport at 10:30AM and returned my rental car. Once in the terminal I was disappointed to see at least a hundred individuals , all dressed in full camouflage outfits standing in line at the United Airlines ticket counter. And there we stood for more than an hour before an agent finally showed up and began checking us in. Because all of the people in front of me were hunters and all of them had bazookas and assault rifles capable of bringing down elephants and tanks, each gun case had to be opened and inspected. Finally, it was my turn at the counter to be awarded a seat!

Keep in mind that this was two days before Thanksgiving and I promised my wife and daughter I would be home for the holiday.

"I'm sorry sir, but the flight is significantly overbooked and you do not have an assigned seat. I can get you to Albany the day after Thanksgiving".

"What about later today?", I asked.

"I'm sorry, sir but the soonest flight is on Thanksgiving day."

"What time is the flight?", I asked.

"1PM sir"

"What time will I arrive in Albany?"

"About midnight."

"Please...can't you get me home so I can spend Thanksgiving with my eight year old daughter?"

With that the agent worked feverishly on the computer. And I could hear fifty people behind me moaning and groaning about another delay.

"We'll sir, I can get you on a flight tomorrow morning at six AM".

"Great, I'll take it!"

A few minutes later she handed me a ticket.

"Just a few comments sir, you'll have to get a ride to Butte, Montana (about a hundred miles away). You can spend the night in the Holiday Inn (it was free to me!)." So without complaining I took the ticket and the hotel reservation and rented a car. From there I drove four hours through ice and snow and finally arrived in Butte. As it was early evening I noticed an advertisement for a hot springs a few miles past the city! And so I drove over and spent a glorious evening soaking outside in 100 degree water as gigantic snowflakes fell from the sky! It was a grand evening.

In the morning I woke at 4AM and drove to the airport. Fog and clouds blanketed the area. And no one, and I mean no one, was at the airport. So I waited and waited. Finally an hour later someone showed up and unlocked the door. An hour later I was on the first leg of my journey. The first flight was to Salt Lake City. The second flight was to Dallas, then Cincinnati, then Detroit and then to Dulles in Washington, DC. And finally, fifteen hours later, we landed in Albany! I'm not complaining, I did make it home for Thanksgiving but that's just too many flights in one day. I probably could have taken a train or a bus and gotten home earlier. But I was just thankful to finally be home.

Other Stuff

I know I promised not to complain but I feel the need to ramble on for a bit. Something is wrong in our country today. And I am perfectly serious when I say that we need a violent revolution in our government because the way we are running our country is, quite frankly, disgusting.

Doesn't it bother anyone that one out of one hundred and fifty kids is born with Autism? Doesn't it bother people that breast cancer, Alzheimer's disease, leukemia and all kinds of other cancers are running rampant in our country? Is no one worried about global warming? It seems to me that our present leaders are only concerned about war. And Why? Because wars make money. We spend trillions of dollars on new war machines when we should be building better schools and libraries and medical research facilities. It sickens me to hear about kids with no health care or Christmas presents. It's disgusting to see millions of Americans in jail in our own country. True most of them belong there but I wonder if their lives would have been different if they were raised in a good home with good parents and food and education and health care. It disgusts me to see our young men and women losing their limbs and lives in wars that have no legitimate reason for existing and have no foreseeable conclusions. It disgusts me that we are having a war on drugs and I can buy just about any kind of illegal drug on a street corner in a nearby town. It nearly kills me to think that we still sell tobacco products when twelve hundred people die every day from using tobacco products.

And I'm sick of hearing about deranged individuals shooting up schools and malls.

And the drug companies are just as bad. It's astonishing that they make all kinds of laxatives and charge fortunes for their products when all people have to do is buy a box of bran for less than a dollar, eat a few tablespoons a day and they'll be so regular they won't believe it. And that would be the end of colon cancers and all kinds of other digestive tract illnesses.

I want to breathe clean air and drink clean water. Honest to God, I don't think that's too much to ask. So we need to have a mental revolution in this country. We have to dramatically change our priorities. The government is supposed to serve and protect its citizens. We would be the envy of the world if only we would educate our citizens. OK, Ok, OK, I'll stop for a while.

Other tid bits

A week ago I took my daughter for her weekly violin lesson. My wife also came along. She's taking violin lessons from the same teacher as well. So we entered the home and were greeted by the teacher. And for the first ten minutes of the lesson I sat patiently on the couch reading a book as my daughter practiced her lessons. The teacher, who could charm the socks off an Eskimo, could take no more of my insensitivity to the music before me and ordered me to stop reading and pay attention. And of course I followed her every command. She then handed me a violin and for the next forty five minutes instructed me in violin posture, finger positioning and technique. And I'm happy to say that I can now competently play Three Blind Mice on the violin! But that was not enough for my teacher. She said that I had great talent and that I should take more lessons because I could very quickly become quite competent. I will admit that I picked it up fairly easily! And I was quite proud of myself. But I'm certain that she tells everyone that so they will sign up for her lessons

Nonetheless, after my first session I was invited to stay a bit longer for the group lesson. So along with several six to eight year old girls I graciously played Jingle Bells for nearly an hour! And we did sound great! I do realize that I might have looked a bit out of place but in truth I had a great time and have given the teacher, as requested, a month's worth of tuition fees for my next four lessons!

On my way out the door I was also told that I needed to get my own violin as my daughters was significantly too small for me. I completely understood and vowed to have my own violin for my next lesson.

Once we arrived back home along with a few glasses of wine we had a great dinner. And then a few after dinner drinks as well. In truth, I really am not a "drinker" and usually stop at two cocktails. But this night we got a bit carried away.

Later that evening I remembered my promise to acquire my own violin so I "booted up" EBay on my computer and typed in "violins". I was not surprised to see over four thousand instruments in the category. I was very happy to see a violin offered for forty dollars and without much thought I typed in forty one dollars.

One thing I learned that night was to never, ever bid on something when you've been drinking. I checked my bid a half hour later and to my horror realized that I have typed in Forty One Hundred dollars. And keep in mind that bids are legally binding contracts. This was not a good thing because I really didn't want a Stradivarius violin I just wanted a violin so I could share the experience of learning music with my daughter. But I was cool about all of it. I didn't get excited. I just remained calm. Needless to say I was pleasantly surprised when the auction ended the following morning. The final price for the violin was well over six thousand dollars! I was off the hook!

I will say that I did purchase a new violin on EBay this afternoon for $51 plus shipping! And I'm greatly looking forward to learning Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star and Mary Had A Little Lamb in class over the next few weeks. And we will be performing the songs before a group of proud parents at a Christmas Pageant in my area! If anyone is interested in attending the show let me know. I'll make certain that you receive front row tickets, a glass of red Cool Aid and Christmas cookies!

And talk about doing stupid things. About a month ago I was driving back from New York City where I had lunch with and meetings with friends and business associates. In front of me on the highway were two burly guys in full motorcycle regalia proudly wearing their colors. These were not just old guys on touring bikes. These guys were the real thing. The kept just over the speed limit but every once in a while one would roar ahead of the other and make lots of noise as he did so. In time they pulled off the highway and into a rest stop. I did the same. After using the restroom I stood behind the two bikers and waited patiently to order a coffee from the concession stand.

The bikers took their time about ordering. Finally they ordered double lattes with extra vanilla and nutmeg. After they placed their order they moved a few feet and allowed me to place my order. "I want a real mans drink. I want a large coffee, black. None of this fru fru stuff," I said. I then moved to my left to allow the guy behind me to place his order.

As I turned I was taken aback by the two bikers standing only a few inches from me. Towering over me one of the guys said "what did you mean by that crack?" Like a fool I said, "real men drink coffee". Now even closer one of the bikers, with chewing tobacco running down his chin, said "you don't like my drink?"

This was now very serious. I joke and kid with lots of people and only once did it back fire on me. This was the second time. I didn't know what to say. "I asked you a question" the biker said with a tremor in his voice. I was still speechless. "You don't like my drink?" said the other biker.

I was fully aware that I was now in potentially serious trouble. "I really hate people like you", came from the lips of the biker on my left. Several people were now watching wondering if I was about to have the brains beaten out of my head. I have to admit that I was scared. And I felt my voice tremble as I said "I'm just trying to find some humor somewhere." It was a feeble, stupid response but I will admit that I was painfully intimidated.

A few seconds later both of the bikers broke into giggles and then laughter. I thought for a moment they were going both go into cardiac arrest they were laughing so hard. "We got you man" they said. "We really got you!" They were pointing their huge fingers at me. Both continued their gut splitting outburst. "Hey man, we love doing this to people", the big guy said. "We scare em to death and love doing it. You should have seen the look on your face. You were great man. Don't pay any attention to us, Man, we're just having some fun with you." Moments later they picked up their lattes with extra vanilla and walked off to relax in a booth. I could still hear their laughter as I walked out the doors without my large, black coffee. I have to admit that the two bikers with all their tattoos, chewing tobacco and leathers were quite convincing. When I finally got home I took a triple dose of my blood pressure medicine.

REALITY STUFF

And so we are taking another direction here at my gallery. The gallery itself is doing very well. In fact it's doing so well it's caused me to inadvertently ignore my website for a while. That's because every time I bring a new pieces of furniture in they sell almost immediately. Which is a good thing!

Nonetheless, within the month I plan on launching the new and improved, industrial strength Ralph Kylloe Rustic Design Website! I think you'll enjoy the updates we're adding and please feel free to comment on whatever you like or offer suggestions or ideas on how to improve what we do here at the Ralph Kylloe Gallery.

I also made great progress on my TV show. I really don't like to talk about stuff until I have something concrete to say but at this point I'm thrilled with the progress we've made. I'll let everyone know when they can see the entire program.

Well in two hours we're taking off for Chicago to spend the holidays with family and friends. I'll be playing the blues with a few musician friends out there and will probably eat too much food and sweet stuff. Please drive carefully this holiday season.

My best to you, Ralph

They were a young couple, probably in their twenties. They sat in the row of seats directly in front of me. I was first assigned a complete row of seats to myself by an emergency exit but as I sat down I realized that the armrests did not retract. So I quickly moved to the very last row and sat in the center seat. I prayed no one would sit next to me. No one did and I smiled proudly to myself when the flight attendant sealed the door. The seats in the last row do not fold back but at least the arm rests retracted. It was to be a nearly seven hour flight and a row of seats to myself is a blessing beyond comprehension. I looked forward to taking a long nap, completely stretched out, during the long flight. At any rate the young couple mentioned above sat in the seats directly in front of me.

The plane took off and soon we were sailing smoothly through the skies on our way to Alaska! I relaxed with my shoes off and began reading a great new book on our sixteenth president Abe Lincoln. In time the young couple in front of me settled in as well and the woman sitting by the window reclined her seat just enough for me to see her face. She was a fairly attractive woman and although large she was not overweight. Their smiles and giggles suggested that they were newlyweds and very much in love. He constantly whispered unintelligible things in her ear and she giggled with each comment. And although I would never know, I could only assume the nature of their discussions.

After a half hour of their silliness the serious physical contact began. The crack between their seats gave me a partial view of their actions. I am sorry to say that I do not enjoy watching some guy sticking his tongue in some girl's mouth. I know I should not have been watching but when its two feet in front of your face it's hard to ignore. After a few moments I adjusted my pillow and reclined peacefully against my window. But I could not avoid or even escape from the amorous escapades of the couple in front of me.

And so this went on for quite some time. And I was not surprised when the couple pulled a blanket over themselves to conceal any other intimacies they were having.

In time the pilot turned off the fasten seatbelt sign and mentioned over the intercom that passengers were now free to wander about the airplane. With that the couple in front of me rose from their seats and went to the bathroom directly behind me. I was not in the least surprised when both of them entered the cubical at the same time. Keep in mind please that airplane bathrooms are tiny with just barely enough room for one person. There was no doubt in my mind what they were doing.

As my seat leaned up against the wall of the rest room I could feel the vibrations of the couple as they banged up against the wall and moaned and groaned in what was obvious to me not horrible constipation. Frankly, I couldn't help but giggle to myself. After a few minutes the door opened and the couple emerged. I suspect that they were surprised to see several people standing in the aisle staring directly at them and anxiously waiting to use the toilet.

The couple returned to their seats directly in front of me and promptly fell asleep.

A few hours later they were both awake and at it again. And in a short while they both again visited the bathroom directly behind me at the same time. I suspected that from the vibrations and noise they again enjoyed the physical pleasures of each other. And I really hoped that they enjoyed their little encounter.

Now...all this is all good and well in my mind. People have been doing this kind of stuff for millions of years. And I'm happy for everyone...I just wish that on some occasions people would use a bit more discretion with their amorous encounters. You never know whose watching.

Near the end of the flight the woman turned her head just enough to see my smiling face staring directly at her through the crack in the seats. I wonder what she would have thought if she realized that just about the entire plane knew about their little rendezvous.

And so I sit here in my room in Anchorage, Alaska. It's just getting light out now and it's been predicted that it will rain heavily everyday for the next week. I'm waiting patiently for two other friends to arrive at the airport tonight. I'll pick them up about twelve hours from now and then drive down to Cooper Landing in the dark while trying to avoid moose and bears that wander across the highway at night. About a dozen of us are staying at an old world rustic lodge and will fish the mighty Kenai River for huge rainbow trout. It's fly fishing only and strictly catch and release. We'll all have a great time and in the evening we'll tell stories about the fish we caught and the bears we saw.

9-24-07. End of first day. The fishing was very good. Not extraordinary liked I had hoped but we did catch fish. Although it rained in the morning it cleared up nicely. The scenery was spectacular. The second day was more of the same. Although bad weather was predicted the day grew warm and sunny. The fishing was again great but not extraordinary as we had often experienced in Alaska. At this point everyone was getting along well and having a great time.

Alaska at this time of the year is truly magnificent. The river we're on is a glacier fed body of water. The color of the water is a mesmerizing turquoise blue. The towering mountains offered a newly fallen dusting of snow and the leaves of the aspen trees were in peak foliage. And, even better, the tourists were gone as were the insects!

But melancholic thoughts often invade my mind when I'm in truly wilderness areas. I thought of my parents whom are both now gone. My parents had a troubled relationship. They should have divorced much sooner than they did. I was never close with my father, who, frankly, was in ill health much of his life.

But, I suppose, like many people on the planet I had issues with my parents, particularly my father. He never achieved the success he wanted in his life and he died living alone in a one room apartment. Few people came to his funeral. But I suppose, like all parents, he wanted a better life for his sons. There are many days when I wish I could tell him about my life. I wish I could tell both of my parents I'm OK and doing well. I often wonder if he would be jealous or proud of what I've done in my life. I do know that he would have given just about anything to experience the things I have.

But at some point in our lives it's necessary to get beyond stuff. It's necessary to realize that things happen to us that we cannot and could not control. It's best to realize the mistakes of others, learn from them and then move on and create the best life possible. There were actually eleven of us, in four different groups, here in Alaska. Three groups are staying at Gwins and the other group wisely rented a private home on the banks of the river about ten minutes from us. Considering that my group had no heat or hot water (and no toilet paper) for the first two days at the lodge and that the food was significantly less than it had been in the past we'll probably find other accommodations when we return next year.

Our fourth day of fishing was the worst. The wind was blowing at forty miles per hour and the combination of rain and snow stung our faces as we were pelted with frozen moisture. The landing where we were to launch our boat was closed so we traveled some fifty miles downstream to launch in a more secluded area. Once we were on the water we motored for an hour or so at a dead slow pace directly into the wind. In time we realized our efforts were fruitless and chose to fish in an unknown part of the river. After an hour or so we gave up, took the boat out of the water and drove an hour or so upriver to a very secluded spot. All in all is was a very slow fishing day. I sometimes wonder, however, about the sanity of it all as standing in hurricane winds, trying to cast upstream and doing our best to keep warm (to say nothing of the enormous expense) seems more like a sincere act of masochism than a fun filled outdoor adventure. Nonetheless, life goes on.

Throughout the week we saw bears and eagles daily. Near the end of the week three of us decided to try another river so in the morning we drove about two hours south to fish for Steelhead in a creek near Homer. Although we caught very few fish the change in scenery did us good. In the evening we wandered into Homer and had a drink at my all time favorite bar, The Salty Dog. The bar itself has more character than anyplace I've ever been in. I won't spoil the surprise but a trip to the bar from anywhere in the world is worth every cent. My only disappointment was that the floor of the bar has been nothing more than wood chips for the past thirty years. This past year a cement floor was added. Nonetheless, the ambiance of the place is still truly Alaskan.

After we sat at one of the long tables for an hour or so a group of very serious Alaskan bikers in full leathers and colors entered the bar and unexpectedly sat at the table with us. My group had had a drink and just for kicks I started to "mouth off" to the group (about ten of them) about their bikes. I commented to one guy about his bald head and told him that real bikers have serious tattoos. Without missing a beat he shouted "wanna see my tattoos?" With that he stood up, unbuckled his belt and started to unzip his pants. "No, No, No, that's OK", I said. Everyone laughed. With that the ice was broken and we all sat for an hour or so telling stories. I bought the bikers a round of drinks and listened intently as they told stories about their lives in Alaska as loggers, excavators, and truck drivers.

In time I got up from the table and ordered another round of drinks at the bar. Sitting at a chair right next to me sat one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. She smiled directly to me and her piercing blue eyes humbled me as I was caught completely off guard. For just a few seconds I was speechless. Moments later I mumbled something about a good restaurant in town. I was surprised when I could even speak as her charm and good looks caused my knees to shake. And so for the next three minutes we chatted about nothing. It doesn't happen often and I suppose it happens to everyone. But there was a connection between us. Frankly, it doesn't happen often but such events are one of life's little thrills. But I'm a happily married man and am very loyal to my family. Nonetheless, it was one of those priceless moments I will not forget.

A few minutes later, oblivious to my encounter, one of my friends took me by the arm and marched me and my group across the street where we had an excellent dinner. Once the bill was paid I and friend Paul Bodor exited the restaurant and walked toward the vehicle. A minute or so later my friend Brian Correll exited the door and walked fifty or so yards behind us. Seconds later we heard a loud thump. We both turned to see Brian lying face down on the ground. In truth, when someone is hurt they usually yell or groan or something. But Brian was flat out. He uttered not a word. I turned to get the vehicle and my friend Paul ran to offer assistance. By the time I reached Brian he was screaming in pain. So without hesitation we loaded him in the van and drove him to the hospital. I must say that it was rather disturbing to hear him screaming in absolute agony as the physician and aids reset his dislocated shoulder. But as soon as it started it was over and we drove back to our lodge for a short night sleep.

Needless to say we woke late in the morning and were scolded by the guide as he wanted to fish. We did have a very productive day and I caught my largest fish of the trip...a gorgeous 28 inch rainbow trout!

But like all good things change happens. Trout fishing on the Kenai River in Alaska the last week of September is now on the map. There were far more boats and more fishermen on the river than ever before. Normally it's a fairly wilderness experience but this year it was common to see thirty or forty boats and dozens of fishermen all there for the same reason. It wasn't exactly combat fishing but it was more crowded than I had hoped for. Nonetheless, we will return the following year but we will fish there a week later in hopes of avoiding the crowds.

The following day I drove my buddies to the airport in Anchorage for an early evening flight. As I had several hours before my departure I wandered into downtown Anchorage for some window shopping and dinner. Once I parked my car I walked through the downtown area where I was accosted by several drunken street people asking for change. I ignored them all.

Near one street corner a large man was standing with several other individuals. I assumed that were all friends until I heard the big guy start to scream. Just twenty yards away I saw him walk up to a guy smaller then he and punch him ferociously in the face. The small man went down with one punch and didn't move. The big guy than started shouting "who's next?...who's next?" No one took him up on the challenge. People started running in all directions. To me the big guy was either really drunk or high on serious drugs. I wisely ducked into a restaurant. I really had no desire to confront a testosterone intoxicated wild man. I tried to find someone to call the police but no one presented themselves. A few minutes later I looked out the window to see the guy who was assaulted struggle to his feet and wander off. I suppose this kind of stuff happens in all cities but walking in Anchorage in the evenings is something that will ever concern me.

In time I boarded my plane for the flight home. I was stuck in a middle seat for the first seven hour flight and in an aisle seat for the last two connections. It was a long, eighteen hour day. Once home I had to spend the next day in bed exhausted more from the flights home than the actual fishing trip.

Finally back in my office and ready for work I was bombarded with tons of phone calls and emails each requiring attention and time. Two days later, and much to the chagrin of my wife and daughter, I boarded a plane and headed out to Montana to work on more books and projects.

I have to say that I dearly love Montana. I have friends there and the mountains and rivers in that part of the world speak an unspoken language of art and passion.

I photographed seven different homes during my three weeks there, each quite extraordinary and each nothing less than a bit of heaven on earth. The only problem is that people who live there are genetically deficient in their ability to accurately convey either time or distances. Here's a translation of their vernacular;
1. "Just a few minutes out of town", really means two hours,
2. "Just a few miles down the road", means a minimum of sixty miles,
3. "I'll get back to you shortly", means not at all or next month,
4. "The fishing is terrible", means fishing is great,
5. "The hunting is slow", means it's extraordinary.
6. The speed limit is 75 mph but it really means 90.
7. "It'll be done tomorrow", means next month.
8. "It shouldn't cost too much", means it's a minimum of a thousand dollars.

I think those reading this get the message.

I spent my first three nights at the Chico Lodge. They have very affordable rooms and their hot springs pool is nothing less than a delight. And the drive into work each morning is as picturesque as any in America. But frankly, I grew tired of the lodge. The old section where I usually stay is a serious fire trap, the bathrooms are down the hall and it's noisy all night long. And there are no TVs in the rooms. Not that I need one but sometimes it's necessary to just mindlessly relax after a long day.

Nonetheless, I spent quite a bit of time in the office of architect Larry Pearson in Bozeman. For my taste Larry is the best architect in the country. Working mostly in the rustic style his homes go far beyond the traditional realm of rustic. You can see several of Larry's projects in the past three or four books I've done. And if you want to get the inside scoop on his office or if you want to hire him to create the greatest rustic home in the world just for you please call me directly and I'll give you all the details.

Nonetheless, photographing homes is one of the great pleasures and adventures in my life. You never know what you'll run into on these projects. One home titled Cherry Creek required me to drive down a dirt road for more than an hour in the middle of nowhere. The road, actually just two ruts on a mountainside, passed through a valley complete with dramatic drop-offs, angry long horn cattle and rattlesnakes. But the ranch, albeit small, was nothing less than an absolute paradise complete with restacked historical buildings, horses, great scenery and a pond where I landed several gorgeous rainbow and brook trout!

I also photographed three homes in a private community there. The homes were nothing less than spectacular. Large in every way the buildings and mountain top scenery humbled me as I again realized that we are standing on a very small planet literally zooming through space. I was also conscious of the fact that we have so much potential as a species and that we have so little time in which to better ourselves and our planet.

I also made photos (you make a photo...you don't take one) of another great place that was built in 1904. The builder of the home actually worked on the Old Faithful Inn in Yellowstone National Park. Unique in design I was quite pleased when the owner invited my family and me to visit with them for a few days the following summer. And the place is right on a great lake full of huge trout!

In truth, the fall colors were stunning. I spent one full day driving through Yellowstone with Larry Pearson and Dennis Durham. We left Bozeman before day break and as the sun rose over the park we were thrilled with the animals and scenery before us. Later that day we made photos of a great small cabin on the shores of the Clarks Fork River near Cody, Wyoming. It was one of the finest days of my life.

And don't for one minute think that I didn't fish while in the West. In the evenings, just about every evening, I found a great river or stream or pond to toss a few flies into. I hired a guide one day and fished the Madison River and another day I fished with Harry Howard of Yellowstone Traditions on the Missouri. Both days were thrilling. Perhaps the most awe-inspiring event occurred while I was traveling with a guide on the way to fish the Madison just outside of Yellowstone Park. On a small road we witnessed a pack of wolves feeding on an elk they had taken down. We watched in amazement for a good twenty minutes as they tore the carcass open and fed. The wolves were not more than twenty yards from us.

But in truth I was gone a bit too long. I was supposed to be out there for just a week or so but ended up staying for a little over three. Regardless of how much I love it out there my home is in the Adirondacks. And it truth, and although I have great friends in the Bozeman area, my evenings were quite lonely. I really don't go to bars or "hang out". And eating out daily gets really expensive. On many occasions, just to save a few bucks, I went to the local grocery store where I bought four pieces of dark meat chicken, a pint of cole slaw and ate dinner in my car. I can assure everyone that an evening spent in that manner is just not that thrilling.

When I was staying at Chico Lodge I found an out-of-the- way café owned and hosted by a great lady who made a great breakfast. She was a retired physics/science teacher and had opened the restaurant only a month before. We had several long conversations about quantum physics and Heisenberg's Theory of Uncertainty (it deals with the positioning of electrons around a nucleus) before 6AM over a cup of coffee. This may sound like a strange thing to talk about but finding another individual who knows about that kind of stuff is like a drink of cold water to a guy who just walked across Death Valley! Both of us were seemingly disappointed when hunters came for early morning breakfast. The owner then had to return to the work scrambling eggs and frying the skin of dead pigs to satisfy the needs of a dozen hungry men dressed in full camouflage. And I really liked the way she told the entire group of testosterone induced hunters that they could not smoke in her dining room. They all mumbled to each other but complied with her demands.

In time I left Montana. I arrived at the Bozeman airport at 6AM and was surprised to see dozens of men in full camouflage and tons of boxes and luggage already in line. The first week of hunting season was over and men with their gun cases and antlers hacked from the heads of dead elk and deer patiently waited their turn at the self check-in computer terminals. I stood in line for nearly two hours as luggage had to be weighted, antlers had to be wrapped, over weight packages had to be inspected and paid for and finally many passengers had to be re-routed as storms in the East prevented flights from reaching their destinations.

Unfortunately because I had rescheduled my flights from an earlier time I was stuck in middle seats on three different flights. Crammed in between big guys who smelled of cigar smoke, chewed tobacco tirelessly and who drank miniature bottles of scotch like water I endured endless conversations about killing and gutting animals.

At this point in my life I've come to the conclusion that airplane seats are getting smaller and smaller. I now refer to the cheap seat section of airplanes as "cattle cars". But I endure because paying hundreds of dollars extra to sit in first class seems a ridiculous waste of money to me. Needless to say I was thrilled to finally arrive home.

And as I sit here at my desk I remember all kinds of very human things that have happened here at my gallery. One particular event is worth noting.

A year or two ago, I really don't remember when, a group of people parked their vehicles in my parking lot and entered my gallery. They were a "chatty" bunch and in time I found myself talking with a very elderly gentlemen about fly fishing who was part of this group. Well, we talked for an hour or so and I enjoyed his company. I really don't remember if the group bought anything but I had a great time talking about rivers and streams and the big fish that both of us had taken throughout the years. When the group was ready to leave I gave the elderly gentleman an autographed copy of my book FLY FISHING THE GREAT WESTERN RIVERS. I suspect that he appreciated the gesture but in all honesty I can't recall his reaction. I never heard from him or any of their group again. Time passes quickly these days and I had long forgotten about the time I spent with them.

A month or so ago a woman came into my store and related the following story. It was her grandfather that I had given the book to and had spent time with a few years ago. He so enjoyed chatting with me and the book I gave him that he went home and tied several flies. It was his intention to give me the flies the next time he saw me. Tragically, he passed away before we could meet again but asked his granddaughter to give me the flies he had tied.

And so with tears running down her face the granddaughter handed me a small case that contained seven of the best flies I had ever seen. She was incredibly thankful that her grandfather had someone to share fly fishing stories with before he passed away. During my recent trip to Montana I used one of the flies that had just been presented to me. On my first cast a monster rainbow trout hit the fly and I successfully landed and released the eight pound behemoth back to the cool, clear waters of the Rocky Mountains. I wisely made photos of the fish before I released him and sent a copy of the image to his granddaughter when I returned home. I have not yet heard back from her. However, I suspect that artist and master fly tier Jim Crannell, the elderly gentleman who tied the flies just for me, was smiling down on me the day I landed the largest trout I ever caught in the lower forty eight states. Thanks Jim. I won't forget your kindness or your generosity!

In all honesty, stories and experiences such as the above humble me. I have been blessed to have had lots of such experiences and hope throughout my life to have many more. Such events are what keep us sane and grateful to be alive.

And so I sit here at my desk on a cold Saturday afternoon thinking about the things I need to do. In truth, it's getting harder and harder for me to write my "newsletters" as my time seems to be gobbled up by things that seem important at the moment. Considering all the disturbances that happen here it really does take a full day or more for me to write ten or eleven pages of stuff. I often wonder if it's worth the effort. But whenever I send out a newsletter I receive several emails from folks who share stories and compliment my ramblings. Sometimes it's worth the effort to do something without regard to financial incentives. Sometimes the act of doing something just because you like to is reward enough. The quest for personal expression and artistic endeavors goes far beyond the need for recognition and financial reward.

Reality has just again set in as I sit here and realize that I have to travel back to Montana next week for a few meetings that, frankly, I will greatly enjoy. The thought of interacting with brilliant creative people is an absolute delight. And when not in a meeting I'll photograph a few more homes and toss a few flies in the Yellowstone River in hopes of catching a trout. I really do have the greatest life in the world. I just hope that my wife and daughter don't throw me out of the house for being gone again.

My best to all of you, Ralph

PS. The photo above really is me. I still like to go "Trick or Treating". People look at me as though I'm rather strange but I'm used to it.

It’s shocking to me how many people don’t take global warming seriously. I now do. But I’ll tell you, I really like my Toyota SUV. And I really like my eight cylinder Toyota Tundra pickup truck. Both have lots of room, all kinds of gadgets, I feel safe in them and both have all-wheel drive. The SUV gets about 18 MPG. And when I’m pulling my trailer with my truck I get about 9 MPG. But at $3.45 for a gallon of gas it’s a little depressing to spend nearly two hundred dollars a week just on gas. At the same time the global warming thing is in the back of my mind. Nonetheless, I’ve always been one to light candles rather than curse the darkness for hours on end.

So this past week I went out and traded in the SUV for a Toyota Hybrid Prius. It’s definitely smaller and does not have all- wheel or four wheel drive. But it does have all kinds of “cool stuff” in it. And a few days ago my wife and I went to New York City for a few days and the car is presently averaging 51.2 miles per gallon of gas! And it only cost me about thirty bucks to fill up the tank!

I want to be quite honest here. In my life time, between my wife and I, we’ve owned about twenty new Toyotas. And in truth, we’ve never had any problems with any of them. And on many of my trucks I’ve put 200,000 and 300,000 miles on them and never had any problems. So here’s the question. Why can’t American build great cars? Why do the Japanese, whom we destroyed in WW II, make us look like idiots? A year or so ago a big guy, who was drunk, came up to me after a late night gig and asked why I drive a “Jap Car”. “Because if American’s built better cars I’d buy them” I said. He didn’t appreciate my comment. I was very happy when he just walked away.

Apart from all that it’s now necessary to take global warming seriously. Without rambling on and on about it the people who read my comments are bright and well educated. As a nation we know what to do to solve the problem of global warming. I just hope that we choose to do the right thing. And quickly!

Three hours ago I got a call from my wife. She needed me to come to our cabin as soon as possible. So I dropped what I was doing and drove over. Our association was putting our boat docks in and I was requested to be there. I was one of the ones who needed to be in the water. Unfortunately, the ice had only been off the lake for less than a month. Nonetheless, without a wetsuit and in my bathing suit I plunged in and spent almost two full hours in 50 degree water. And as I now sit here the color blue is slowly leaving my body, the shivering is less than it was a few minutes ago and my skin, which for the past few hours has closely resembled prunes, is starting to look normal. But at least the docks are set and I can finally put my boat in the water for the year.

It’s now a week later. I was supposed to leave for Montana on an evening flight from Albany last night. All flights heading west were cancelled due to computer problems and bad weather. I stood in line for three hours at the airport. Once it was my turn with the reservationist I was politely told that I could travel to Detroit and spend the night there and maybe I could get out the following day (if the problems were fixed and the weather calmed down). I chose to postpone the trip and depart from Albany the following Monday. The ride to the airport from my home is an hour and because we hit rush hour traffic in Albany the return trip took nearly two hours. I just hope that this is the last “glitch” for this trip and in my never ending saga of “weird experiences” in airports and airplanes. Time will tell.

The only bad thing about postponing my trip is that I lost two days deposits on hotel rooms, my fee for fishing on a private river in Montana (non-refundable for any reason) and the opportunity to photograph a great home. But hopefully I’ll be able to reschedule the photo “shoots”.

On another note my photo trips out west are always filled with peril. I had six gorgeous homes lined up to photograph this trip. At the last second two of homes owners had to cancel my visits. This has happened often and is part of the nightmares of what I do. The worst are interior designers. They guarantee that the homes are ready. After I receive their assurances I make plane, hotel, car and a ton of other arrangements and reservations. Then, a day before I am to leave a designer will call and say that the home is not ready. I’ve heard all kinds of excuses. The pipes burst, the furniture is not in, the landscaping is not complete, the chandeliers are not hung, the window treatments have to be changed, the house burned to the ground, locust infestations, famine, nuclear holocausts, Communist invasions, anarchy and on and on. And the funny thing is that I go to great pains to make certain the homes are ready before I make my travel plans. I normally ask the architects, builders and others if the buildings really are ready. But bad things do happen and I understand. The down side to all of this is that travel is now extraordinarily expensive and my own time is important to me. Nonetheless, when photo shoots are cancelled I prefer take advantage of the situation by fly fishing in some of the greatest rivers in America and wandering around Yellowstone National Park enjoying the sights. Life is cruel sometimes! It’s best to make lemonade from lemons.

And so its Americade is here in Lake George this weekend. Right now there are fifty five thousand (55,000) motorcycles and a hundred and ten thousand visitors registered for the event here in my sleepy town of Lake George. Americade is a motor cycle rally. All day and all night heavy duty designer bikes roar up and down the streets like bees buzzing a hive. And for the ten days the bikers are around I’ll have no walk-in traffic here in my gallery. Bikers, frankly, don’t have interest in rustic furniture. And no one in their right minds would come to my area with this many motorcycles around. But in general the bikers here are great people. They’re not biker gangs or thugs. They’re just a bunch of aging, wealthy professionals trying to hold on to their youth and fantasies and getting a big kick out of a roaring, throbbing, vibrating machine between their legs.

And so just a few minutes ago my daughter asked me to come along with her to a birthday party for one of her eight year old friends. The party will be at her friend’s home where all twenty girls will swim in her pool, eat junk food and sing “happy birthday” at the appropriate time. And I always shutter when I watch the birthday child blow saliva and germs all over the cake when she blows out the candles. God help us.

Nonetheless, I’ll happily attend the party. I’ve been told by my daughter to not sing or dance or go swimming. I’m also not supposed to tell any stupid jokes or do anything else to embarrass her. So I’ll just bring along a good book, sit in a corner, eat a few celery sticks (the hosts token attempt at healthy diets), and not say anything to anyone least I embarrass my eight year old. And I’ll do my best to keep her happy!

On the way over I informed my daughter that she had to wear a life preserver whenever in the water. She didn’t have one with her so we stopped at the local department store. And of course the life preserver thing became a point of real contention with her. She didn’t like any of the ones “off the shelf” but I informed her that she was either going to wear one or we would be going home. The pool at the home where the party is being held has a very deep section and there would be lots of kids there. I choose my “power struggles” with my daughter very carefully. And I would not budge on this issue. We purchased a new life preserver and she wore it all day. I told her very clearly that the most important job I have in the world is to keep her safe. She seemed to appreciate my concerns. Just about every day ten kids drown in pools in America. And it only takes a second of looking the other way. I have been told that the worst thing that can happen to anyone is to lose a child. I will do my best to insure her safety. It’s what all parents should do.

On a related subject are you aware that every year more kids drown in private swimming pools than are killed by handguns?

Here are a few thoughts that have been on my mind for quite some time and I suppose it’s time to comment on them. We seem to be in an age of inconsideration. There are tons of little examples of inconsideration out there that drive me nuts. And they occur only because people don’t consider the effects that their actions (or lack of them) have on others. Consider this:

A. Last fall I promised my daughter that I would take her to the local water park for a late afternoon plunge in the wave pool. I picked her up from school and we drove to the park, paid the ten dollar parking fee and then the $26 admission fee for each of us. Once we arrived at the wave pool we were told that it was closed. Needless to say that this brought a tear to my daughter’s eye. I told the manager that they should have put a big sign out at the admissions gate informing people that the wave pool was closed. I also asked for a refund which he promptly denied. Refunding my money and putting a sign out would have been the considerate thing to do. We won’t visit the park again.

B. Motels sometimes drive me nuts. It is a bit of an effort to get off a highway, pull into a motel parking lot, go into a lobby, wait in line and then be told that the motel is full. I understand realities but it would be very considerate if they simply put a sign outside the motel that read “Full/ No Vacancy”. It would save me significant effort…especially when I’m tired.

C. Office people often drive me nuts. On many occasions I’ve approached clerks, sales persons, waitresses and waiters, check-out attendants, etc., and gotten the cold shoulder. I know they’re busy but if they would just look up from their work, look me in the eye and say “I’ll be with you in just a minute”, I would feel like a real person. I know that they know that I’m standing there and it would only take a second to greet someone and at least acknowledge my presence. It’s incredibly inconsiderate to be ignored.

I’m actually going to stop with the examples now. I can literally feel my blood pressure rising as I think of more examples of inconsideration. I am far from perfect but if we all just considered how our actions affected others it just might be a more considerate world.

Here’s some other stuff to ponder. I am often amazed at how apparently insignificant comments from other people or very minor events have triggered changes in my life. When I was an undergraduate I took a course in personality disorders. In one of the books I read that people with short attention spans squeeze their tubes of toothpaste in the middle. To this day I purposely squeeze toothpaste tubes from the bottom and roll up the tube as time goes by. God forbid that I should be identified as having a short attention span. Years ago I had a two second conversation with a well known artist. His exact words regarding one of my photographs were “needs foreground”. To this day I make certain that I purposely have a foreground and background in my photos. They are better because of it. And I thank the artist to this day for his comment. I also remember an incident when I was in fifth grade. I stood in front of the class and read my paper about my summer vacation. The class and the teacher were in stitches. It was a good report. Then one kid shouted out “it’s just a bunch of stupid comments”. His comments ripped into me and I didn’t write prose or essays for some twenty years. His remark was hard for ten year old kid to take.

In 1978 I took a winter survival course with Outward Bound, a wilderness adventure school. It was ten days of serious winter camping in the mountains of Maine. There was four feet of snow on the ground. Our packs were at least sixty pounds. For two days straight it was thirty below zero. And that does not include the wind chill factor. We slept in tents and sleeping bags, cooked our own food. We also did a three day solo. I made an ice fort and sat by myself and pondered life, my life day and night. Near the end of the expedition it rained for two days. Forty six people started out in the class. Eighteen of us finished the course. Frankly, it was both mentally and physically brutal. And very dangerous. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

In time I came to really dislike several of the people in my course. Near the end of the class one woman argued aggressively that we were all too tired and exhausted to complete our final ascent on a mountain. We were not capable of going on, she said. It was too dangerous. She spoke powerful words and people listened to her. The group acquiesced. They were convinced we could not go on. So we made camp and prepared to rest and recuperate. Frankly, this attitude made me sick and I told her so. I argued that we should go on. No one backed me up. But at that time I’d be damned if I was going to let some sniveling, filthy bitch tell me what I could or could not do. So I packed a tent and sleeping bag, took some food, put on my snowshoes and left for a solo ascent on the mountain. It was pitch dark when I left. I hiked up the side of a moonlit mountain for five straight hours before an instructor finally caught up with me.

Once the instructor reached me I was told that I was part of a group and the decisions made by the group applied to everyone. I was ordered back to the base camp. I complied. The instructor was correct in that it was both dangerous and foolish to wander into the wilderness alone and at night. But to this day I’m happy I left the group. I would do it again in a second and I would make it to the top. Screw the others. In many circumstances being a team player is critical. But to just blindly follow along when you know your own potential and the ability of the others, benefits no one. No progress is made and complacency rules. I don’t lead my life like that. I was capable of completing my climb to the top of the mountain at that time. I had the training, the supplies and the strength to go on. It was an incredible disservice on the part of the sniveling bitch to convince the others in my group, who were all capable of more, that we had failed and that we were weak. One of the greatest sins possible is to render people into passivity and complacency. It destroys progress and wrecks lives. Disasters come from blindly following the dictates of quasi-charismatic leaders who lead by bad examples and dissuasion. To this day, almost forty years later, I still think of the sniveling, filthy bitch that prevented people in my group from achieving their own potential. I wanted to stand on top of the god damned mountain. I hope she was hit by a truck.

And as I sit here and ponder all this I am reminded at how powerful our words can be. Things we say can and do profoundly influence the lives of others. It’s best to choose our words very carefully least we push someone in the wrong direction. Suggestions offered in a positive way enhance humanity. Debasing, demeaning statements only serve to destroy creativity, individuality and personalities. We are capable of such great things in our lives. And we need our teachers, parents, leaders and mentors to provide meaningful examples and meaningful words to help us find the strength and inspiration to help us achieve our own potential. We, as adults, often fail to realize how powerful and how influential we really are. It’s best to use our power wisely. I hope others understand this.

On another, quite different note I’ve been in the Antique business for many years. Three times a year there is a huge antique show on the east coast. I haven’t missed it in thirty years. For the first twenty years I had my way with the rustic furniture business. I had virtually no competition. Then, suddenly, everyone thought I was making millions of dollars and began purchasing all the things I’d been buying for years. Prices escalated dramatically. And fewer and fewer things started showing up. I used to be able to fill a thirty foot trailer with absolutely great stuff.

But it’s different now. I have my competitors. And I miss things that I was once able to buy. In other words…someone bought it before I saw it. But that’s OK. I get my fair share. During this past spring show friends that I’ve known for decades brought me five major pieces, including three hickory pieces, a killer mosaic root table and a great pair of early snow shoes that had been stashed away for me! All kidding aside, however, each item easily cost me five times what I would have paid for it years earlier. Here’s an example. I bought a great pair of early Native American beaver tail snow shoes for fifteen hundred dollars. When I brought them home my wife told me I was nuts. Ten years ago I would have paid no more than three hundred for them. Great art, however, always goes up in value.

Regardless, all things change. I certainly do. For years I slept in my trailer for five straight nights at this show and worked the fields methodically buying and selling all kinds of antiques. Today I only stay for three days and spend my nights in a comfortable motel with running water! My camping days are over!

I also recall my earlier years in the rustic antique business. I lived in Boston and advertised in many Midwestern antique journals for rustic furniture. Three or four times a year I would hop in my four cylinder pick- up truck and pull a ten foot, open bed trailer out to Indiana, Michigan, Wisconsin and Minnesota to pick up stuff. I must have knocked on every door in Indiana looking for hickory furniture. I met tons of really great people and had all kinds of adventures. I looked like the “Grapes of Wrath” when I returned from the mid west. My truck and trailer were piled high with all kinds of hickory furniture! I had a great time.

At one time I had nearly six hundred pieces of antique hickory stashed in a barn just outside of Boston. I always thought rustic stuff was greatly underpriced, undervalued and underappreciated. To me it was folk art at its finest. And in time others came to appreciate rustic furniture as well. My wife at that time, however, thought I was nuts (she was probably right) and she promptly divorced me. My divorce from her was one of the best things that ever happened to me as it allowed me to pursue what I loved doing! Realistically, I loved every second of my life then and still do today. I would not change a thing. I hope everyone can say that about their life’s work.

Nonetheless, I did not plan all this. It’s not what I wanted to do. I have had my fair share of failures but I looked on such things (after a brief bout of depression) as learning experiences. Sometimes, however, you just have to go with the flow. And my direction, whether I liked it or not, was rustic.

I was also “virtually poor” back then. I slept in my trailer at truck stops and rest areas in both summer and winter. I couldn’t afford even a cheap room at that time. I took showers in truck stops and floated more checks than I should have. Regardless, my checks always cleared the bank! I ate bologna sandwiches and “two for one” hot dogs at gas stations. I owed a ton of money for my education and had four “maxed out” credit cards. Nonetheless, in time I paid off all my bills and began to actually prosper.

It seems now like a strange lifestyle for a guy with a Ph.D. from Boston University and graduate degree from Harvard. But I’ve always loved what I do. My mother, when she was alive, thought I was nuts to be selling stick furniture with my education. But she was proud of me (at least I hope so).

So here’s where I am today. I’ve got nineteen books to my credit and am working on two more. I am also thrilled to say that we are in the process of producing my TV show RUSTIC LIVING WITH RALPH KYLLOE. We’ve been filming homes and the initial segments have come out far better than I expected. In fact I’m so proud of it I want my readers to see the first few minutes of the first segment. Here's a link to watch it now: Rustic Living Please feel free to comment on the video. This is your chance to beat me up or say something nice (which I hope at least a few people do). So now it’s your turn to comment on what will become a national program. Let me hear what you have to say and I can assure you that I greatly look forward to hearing your comments and suggestions

On another subject I commented in my last newsletter about three beds that we made that developed problems. We installed the beds a year or so ago and all kinds of things, despite our best efforts, continued to grow on them. The logs were simply not dry when the beds were constructed. So we built a kiln and dried them to the proper moisture level. Well, the beds still had problems so, at great expense, we constructed completely new beds and installed them in the home. Unfortunately the rails didn’t fit right and we had to return a few days later to adjust the rails. While modifying the rails we succeeded in putting four holes in the walls of the bedrooms. So now we have to return in a few weeks to repair and repaint the walls. Sometimes nothing goes right. However, it’s necessary to take care of business and do the right thing. Frankly, however, I thought of burning the beds, shooting the builder and firing the guy who put the holes in the damn walls. But if I allowed my rage to guide me I would have gone to jail. Since I would prefer not to be incarcerated (even if I was to share a cell with Paris Hilton) I’ll just get the cursed job done and write the entire thing off as a business loss. I’ll probably also have to spend a few extra months in my therapist’s office and try antidepressants. Tragically, however, such expenses are not tax deductable.

On another note June 27 will be my 60th birthday! I’ll be here in Lake George and will spend the day with a few friends and family. I certainly don’t feel 60 but time catches up with all of us. But just to have some fun here’s a little surprise for my readers. The first five people who email me on June 27 and wish me a “happy birthday” will receive from me an autographed copy of my latest book, RUSTIC FIREPLACES. And I’ll even pay the shipping costs! These will not be damaged or “misprint” books. These books retail for $30 and shipping is between $8 and $11. So mark your calendars and email me with your Happy Birthday wishes and addresses! I hope someone remembers.

And so that’s about it for now. I plan on making a pasta dish for my family for dinner and then taking an evening boat ride on beautiful Lake George. The lake was clear this morning as I drove my boat in the cool air before the sun came into view. A gaggle of some thirty geese flew in formation for a few miles along side my boat. For just a few moments I felt as though I was a part of their lives. Every few seconds one would look over to me and acknowledge my presence. I dare not say that each goose that caught my eye was smiling at me. Their honking seemed to say that they were taking great pleasure in their morning flight. Regardless of my desire to interject my thoughts on them they gabbed amongst themselves in what I could only consider to be their morning gossip and their desire to be close to their other family members. In time they gracefully set down on the clear water and sent small waves of water and pollen in all directions. They honked for a while as they rested. After a long winter I suspect they are happy to return to the land of their past. Here they’ll raise more little chicks and continue the ongoing cycle of life. It was good to see, at least from my perspective, natural things doing natural things.

I continued on past the geese and fished for a while over a few rock beds in the shallow areas of the lake. My daughter caught several rock bass with her new fishing pole and I landed two huge small mouth bass. All the fish were released safely back to their homes. We finally docked the boat and after breakfast and my wife and daughter took off for violin lessons and a dance party for girls at the local YMCA. I’ve spent the day in my office, spoke with several visitors and sold a few things. As I look out my window now I see clouds rolling in. The wind is now softly whispering and bending the massive hardwood trees I see out my window. A boat ride tonight may not happen. Regardless, after dinner I’ll pick out a few of my daughter’s books and read to her as we keep warm under old blankets in our cabin. I’ll tell her a few made-up stories about princesses and mermaids and by dark she’ll be fast asleep. Life is good sometimes. Take care, Ralph

PS. Monday evening. Much to my chagrin the remaining homes I was to photograph this week in Montana fell through at the last second. This time it was the “new furniture was not completely installed” and “the driveway is being paved and no one can walk on it for a few days” and the “landscaping does not yet compliment the home”. Regardless, I rescheduled my trip to Montana for this coming Friday and will fish for a week with my buddies. Who wants to work anyway?

PSS. I have recently purchased a large number of my books from my printer and I am offering them to my readers at a greatly discounted price. These are first printing books. And personally autographed by the author/writer(me!). Here’s the deal:

ADIRONDACK HOME Retails for $60. On sale now for $25 plus shipping!

HICKORY FURNITURE Retails for $29.95. On sale now for $19.95 plus shipping!

RUSTIC FIREPLACES Retails for $29.95. On sale now for $19.95 plus shipping!

RUSTIC HOME Retails for $60. On sale now for $30 plus shipping!

A month or so ago I received a phone call. I didn’t quite understand the individuals name but they said they worked for some political committee somewhere. They asked if I would consider working for a local politician (I didn’t get his name either). The conversation went something like this.

“What is your position on President Bush?” I was asked.

“The man is a bumbling idiot”, I said. “He and his entire cabinet should be impeached.”

“And the war in Iraq?”

“An incredible waste of money and lives”, I said. “Bush and Cheney both lied about it and they both should be impeached”.

“What is your position on abortion?”

“I don’t think I’m a good candidate for one.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think I could find a doctor who would perform one on me.”

“So you’re against abortions”

“Listen to what I saying. Abortions are not performed on men. Therefore I am not a candidate for one.”

Moments later the caller hung up the phone without saying “good bye”. I guess I didn’t pass the interview and I suppose now I’ll never make it on the national political scene. I’m incredibly disappointed and hurt. Life is cruel sometimes.

On March 17, my wife, daughter and I were in New York City where we watched, in the snow, the St. Patrick’s Day Parade. It was a great day. That evening we saw the famous Irish band the Chieftains perform at Carnegie Hall. It was a sold out show. We were on the far right side of the lower balcony. Front row! During the third song a commotion happened directly below us. A woman was frantically performing CPR on an overweight man. Several people lifted him from the middle seats and began CPR on him once he was flat on the ground in the isle. The band wisely took a break and left the stage. Defibulator paddles were brought out by emergency people who rushed to the scene. The house lights were turned on and a packed house held their breaths as medics pounded on the guy’s chest in an attempt to get his heart going. Minutes passed. Then, as if right out of a movie, the guy came back to life, lifted himself off the floor and began walking. After a few steps he stopped, looked at the sea of staring faces and waved. The entire audience applauded him as he walked out of the auditorium followed by an entourage of medics, officials, family members and well wishers. Minutes later, the house lights went out, the band returned to the stage and played to an appreciating audience for two more hours. Just another strange incident to write about I thought to myself.

There is a strange fascination with the macabre. We are an aggressive species. We love to watch people pound each other nearly to death in fight rings. Action movies and violent video games make millions of dollars and occupy the minds of millions of humans around the world. People go to Nascar races not to see the race but in hopes of seeing the crashes. Guns are everywhere and people seem mesmerized by atrocities. Nearly a million hand guns are sold, legally and illegally, here in America every year. And every day in America thirty murders are committed with handguns. We are a strange species. I’m surprised we’ve lasted as long as we have. I’m just happy that the guy who had the heart attack at Carnegie Hall was able to get up on his own two feet and walk away. And I hope, at least, that he enjoyed the first three songs played by the Chieftans.

(I normally edit my ramblings and after reviewing the above paragraph I probably should have either eliminated it or changed it dramatically. It really doesn’t “flow” with the paragraph preceding it. But I’m going to leave it like it is. I wrote it and that’s how I felt as I recalled the entire experience.)

I’ve been thinking about my efforts during the past few months. Sometimes it’s hard for me to get started when it comes to writing my Newsletter. It’s not writers block or laziness. It’s probably closer to exhaustion. I need to take a day off once in a while just to recuperate. Last fall my MD told me my blood pressure was significantly up, my cholesterol level was too high and I was overweight. It’s just the sort of news no one likes to hear or admit to themselves. So in an attempt to hold on to some semblance of youth I started a rigorous fitness program last October. And frankly I’m proud of myself! Three times a week I go to the local YMCA, shoot baskets for a while, pound away on an exercise machine and finish off with a half hour of weight training. So far I’ve lost about ten pounds and feel better than I have for a long time. Nonetheless, it’s the mental nightmares that wear on me. We’re busier now than we ever have been and I really do need a talented person to manage my business. It’s stupid to think that I can do it all. But problems are, in reality, opportunities. And one by one I’ll take care of the stack of “opportunities” on my desk that require more of my time than I care to allot to them. None of the problems are serious…its just there are lots of them. Deliveries need to be made, bills need to be collected, orders need to be filled, etc. It’s just standard stuff. But frankly, I would rather be working on another book or something more important to me than going to the dump, recycling plastic bottles and mowing my lawn.

Nonetheless, just to clarify what kind of problems one might encounter here at the Ralph Kylloe Gallery let me briefly outline one little “opportunity”. This has been my biggest headache in a long time and it took valuable time and energy to resolve it.

A very good customer of mine ordered two pairs of bunk beds and a king size organic bed for their lake home here in the Adirondacks. I had my “bed guy” build the beds and we installed them a month or so later. The client was thrilled and their check cleared the bank! A year later the client called and said that funguses were growing from the beds and asked if we could take care of the problem. We visited the cabin a week later and knocked off a dozen or so funguses and re-varnished the beds. A few months ago the client again called and mentioned that the funguses had returned with a vengeance. We again visited the cabin, this time in the dead of winter, and were surprised to see all of the new growths on the beds. It was definitely a serious problem. I called the individual who actually made the beds for me and was politely told that he was out of business and no longer responsible for anything he had done in the past. So a month ago I and another individual returned to the cabin with a moisture meter to measure the amount of moisture in the wood. It turns out the original builder of the beds had used “green, un-dried” materials to build the beds. As a result all kinds of things started growing on the beds. Unfortunately, the beds were so heavy and there was so much snow on the ground we could not remove them at that time. So we came home, hired two really big guys, returned to the building (two hours north of us) and removed the beds. I then spent two days trying to find a kiln to dry the beds. No luck. So for just about seven thousand dollars and two weeks of time I purchased and constructed our own kiln. Unfortunately, we had problems with the electrical components in the new system and had to spend more time and money getting the beast to work correctly. The beds are now in the kiln but may have significantly more damage than I originally thought. I’ll know within the next week. And if they are not perfect we’ll build the couple new beds and take the loss as part of business. I will not compromise on our commitment to quality products. I am happy to say however, that I have a new, incredibly competent bed build, Brian Kelly, right here at my gallery and our new, albeit expensive kiln, is working well. And our new beds are gorgeous!

But in truth I would rather have been working on new books, making photos, being in my gallery and being productive than spending so much time on “opportunities”. Having to spend so much time on problems is counterproductive but a necessary reality when running a business. I am certain other business owners have “opportunities” as well. They are nothing new.

On another note, I really don’t like doing shows anymore. It generally takes a day to pack the trailer, another day to travel and set up the booth. Then I talk with all kinds of people for two or three days once at the show, then pack up and go home. It’s too exhausting at my age.

Nonetheless, I had agreed to do the RUSTIC SHOW in Danbury, Ct., which was held a few weeks ago. The show was promoted by long-time show promoter Richard Rothbard. I really didn’t want to do the show but I said I would and I always do what I say I’m going to do. So at 4AM on March 31, Lori Toledo and I drove down to Danbury and set up a booth full of great looking furniture. In truth, I’ve exhibited at hundreds of shows around the country during the past three decades. Some have been great…. some not. On several occasions I’ve set up next individuals selling pots and pans, self incinerating toilets, hot tubs, real estate, and all kinds of other stuff. Some people have blared loud music all day, some have cooked food all day and extolled the virtues of their wares and, others, dressed in full turbans, sold trinkets and mattresses from India. God help me.

But I really enjoyed the Rustic Show. It was an exhibit of great art. Half of the exhibitors offered quality rustic furniture and related rustic accessories and the other half offered contemporary artwork such as paintings, sculptures, and carvings. Several of the “better known” furniture builders were there including Barry Gregson, Jerry Farrell, Bill Coffee, Russ Cleves, Robert Stump and a few others. There was not a typical “rush” at the opening of the show where people lined up by the hundreds for the doors to open but rather it was a constant “flow” of traffic all day. Saturday the weather was warm and mild. Sunday was cool and brought about twice as many people into the show than the day before. I signed books continuously throughout both days and had a few great sales near the closing of the show on Sunday. As I write this a month has passed since the show was held and I have had several calls and several major orders from people I met at the show. The exhibit was professionally organized and the move in and out was virtually painless. The hotel where most of us stayed was easily four stars and Saturday night most of the exhibitors partied in the hotel lounge until late at night. On Sunday I was asked to “judge” the show and award prizes. When asked to do this sort of thing I always ask as few others for their opinion as well. I gave out two awards. One was given to a gentleman who created extraordinary sculptures from window screens and I awarded another prize to Barry Gregson for his extraordinary chairs. Truth be known, I have had my fair share of “squabbles” with Barry early on but am on complete speaking terms with him and his family at this time. I have always said that Barry is the finest rustic chair builder in the country and I gave him a cash award and first prize in the rustic furniture division of the show. Great art speaks for itself.

Most of the exhibitors did well at the show. Some did not. That is, however, typical. Would I do the show again and would I encourage others to do the show? Absolutely. This was the first year for the show and it can only draw more interested individuals as the show grows.

I had also promised to exhibit at the LAKE, HOME AND CABIN SHOW held this past week just outside of Chicago. And frankly, my heart was really not into repacking my truck and trailer, driving eighteen hours, setting up another booth, talking with people for three straight days and then driving another eighteen hours home. But I did it anyway. It was a long drive. Lori Toledo, who builds many of the mirror frames we offer in my gallery, again came with me. It was a long, exhausting drive. Nonetheless, we found the convention center after fighting Chicago rush hour traffic for what seemed like days. We arrived at ten in the morning and were told that our set-up time was to be a 3PM. So we moved into our separate hotel rooms and rested for much of the rest of the day. Late that afternoon we set up our 20’ x 30’ booth, had a great Mexican dinner with friends and then passed out in our hotel rooms. Friday morning we indulged in a great breakfast buffet at the hotel and spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon putting the final touches on our booth and talking with other exhibitors.

The show opened at two PM. Considering that it was a work day the early traffic was slow. But as evening approached more and more people filled the hall. By 9PM I was exhausted from speaking with more people than I can remember. I had a sandwich for dinner and went to bed. Saturday the crowd increased significantly. I spoke with many, many people who came to the show just to meet me. And as always a half dozen or so architects and designers showed up with photos of their projects they wanted me to see. A few of projects were outstanding! Saturday evening seven of us, including Tony and Robin Williams (arguably the greatest rustic furniture builders in the Midwest), Even Steven (an internationally known song writer from Nashville), Tina Keller (a nationally known exhibit organizer and all around grand lady) and a few others went out for dinner and we didn’t return to our room until well past midnight. Sunday was another great day as I spent time with several individuals who wanted and needed furniture for new homes they were constructing in Wisconsin. Throughout the show I sold several dozens of my books as well as several pieces of furniture and three sets of hickory chairs. During the show I also gave four, half-hour slide shows which were well received. Sunday evening we quickly packed the remains of our booth and took off for Lake George but not before having another great dinner with my sister-in-law Tina Keller.

The Chicago show was part of the Lake Home and Cabin Shows based in Minneapolis. The shows are professionally run and well attended by an adoring audience. We found that most of the visitors to our booth were shocked at the quality of our furniture and didn’t realize that rustic furniture “had come of age”! There is definitely a very strong, untapped market in the Midwest and rustic builders should consider exhibiting at any one of their shows. If time permits I know I will.

The ride home was long and laborious. We were caught in an ice storm in central New York near the end of the second day of driving and after seeing five vehicles rolled over and in the ditch I called it a day and found another motel. The following morning the local TV station announced that there had been more than 200 accidents as a result of the storm. We finally made it home the following day.

On another note long drives can become monotonous. I’ve known Lori Toledo and her partner, John Bennett for several years. And considering that we spent nearly forty hours driving to and from Chicago and sitting in a booth with her all day long for three or four days it was no wonder that we often told the same stories to each other over and over again. In time we both realized that we were coming to the bottom of the barrel regarding our life’s tales. Just to find some humor we decided to number each of the stories so we would not have to repeat them in their entirety. So every few minutes one of us would shout out a number like 25 or 34 which indicated a story.

The above comments are indicative of what happens to two mentally and physically exhausted individuals who face another eighteen hour drive and are looking for anything to keep them awake. There is no point to the above paragraph so if you want you can just ignore it and say something like “Ralph just gets weird sometimes”. I won’t be offended in the least because its true!

My latest book RUSTIC FIREPLACES is presently on the market and doing well. The book sells retail for $29.95. It you want a signed, first printing copy send me a check for $26! And that includes delivery!

I also have another book coming out this fall. CABIN IN THE WOODS will show about 160 photographs of some of the greatest rustic homes in the country. These are all new photos and new homes that I have not featured in any of my other books. This book will be on the market in early fall! It retails for $29.95. And a check from anyone for $26 (USA only) will insure that your will receive a signed, first printing copy. And that included delivery!

This summer I will be working on another new book titled THE GREAT AMERICAN BOATHOUSE. I’m very excited about this project as I get to cruise around some of America’s lakes and look for great boathouses. There are many here in the Adirondacks and we’ll also search the Thousand Islands area of upstate New York for classical boathouses as well. This July I’ll be spending a few days on the Brule River in Wisconsin to fish their famous waters and photograph some of the great boathouses in that part of the world. I’ll be staying with the promoters of the Lake Home and Cabin Show at a private home on the river!

This summer I’ll also begin work on what I consider will be my greatest contribution to the rustic movement in America. I have recently contracted with my publisher Gibbs Smith, Layton, Utah, to produce a mega book titled RUSTIC AMERICA. The final retail price has not yet been decided but the book will cost between $125 and $250 and will include 500-600 color photos. It will include both historical and contemporary homes that have not appeared in prior publications. The focus of the book will be on details. So many of the homes I visit and photograph are extraordinary objects of art in themselves. And I really could spend weeks photographing just one building. With that thought in mind RUSTIC AMERICA will offer far more details than have been presented in my other works. I need to have my work on this new book completed by January of 2009. The book will be on the market September of 2009. So I will spend the next two years photographing homes all over the country. It promises to be a great adventure. And it will be the most important and significant book on the market! After that book I don’t know what I’m going to do. I might just take some time off to enjoy myself!

I’ll be in Montana for most of June and then back to Wyoming in September. In August I’ll be in California for a few weeks with my family and I’ll be in Alaska at the end of September for my annual fishing trip with old friends. Then I’ll be in Montana part of October and then finally home before the snow falls.

The fly fishing season is finally upon us here in the Adirondacks. As expected the rivers in this part of the world are still “high and near flood stage.” At the same time I have no doubt that tiny insects who have lived under rocks at the bottom of the river for two years are now preparing to emerge from their dark, cold homes. The fish will happily feed on them and the cycle of life will continue. After rising to the surface some of the bugs live only for a few hours or days before depositing their eggs back in the river. After that they quickly die only to fall back into the river and again offering their bodies to other living things. It’s a strange cycle…..but it works. And who am I to question a process that has been successfully going on for fifty million years?

Fly fishing, for me, is a personal thing. One does not think of life’s worries or problems when fly fishing. Time fads away. Fly fishing is a profound art form in itself. It’s a necessary activity for me and I greatly miss it when the snow covers the ground and ice covers rivers.

In my early years I hunted with hawks and falcons. I was a falconer. It was an all- encompassing life style. But I tired of “killing things”. Fully aware that just about all living things feed on other living or dead things I harbor no resentment against anything that kills another if its intentions are to eat it. That’s just the nature of the world in which we live. Although in fly fishing we definitely “catch” things, we generally release back to the wild all that we catch. Truth be known, I don’t know how someone can shoot a deer, a bear or moose. I understand why they do but I cannot bring myself to blast another living thing to pieces with a bazooka. I’ll leave it at that.

And so I sit here planning my next great adventure. I have three free airplane tickets that were given to us because we were “bumped” off a flight a while ago. I have to use the tickets before October. W can’t decide between Northern California, the Oregon Coast or The Canadian Rockies. We have to make a decision by this Friday. Life is tough sometimes.

My one dilemma right now is that I have taken some heat for my photography. I met with a big time architectural photographer in New York City a few weeks ago. I showed him my books and I carefully detailed the process I use to make photographs. I prefer natural lighting and I use film in my 120 and 35mm camera systems. He felt the artistic qualities of my work was exceptional but felt that I was living in the dark ages. Most professional photographers today, I was reminded, use digital equipment. I am very well aware of this. But after considerable discussion it became very apparent that you need a Ph.D. in engineering and computer sciences just to figure out how to even make a simple image digitally. While in New York also I spent time in one of the huge camera stores reviewing technical manuals for state-of-the-art digital cameras. And frankly, I just don’t have the ability or patience to understand all that stuff. I also spoke at lengths with my production manager (Marty) who oversees the production of my books. He and another individual whom I also respect offered the sage advice that I should stay in my comfort zone and use the system I’m familiar with and have used successfully for the past forty years. True, you can do extraordinary things digitally but the time it takes to figure out the technical necessities (to say nothing of the expense for professional equipment) of new equipment can confound the best of us. And frankly I have other things I’d rather do than struggle with a complicated technical system at this point in my life.

The Ralph Kylloe Band is being asked to play more gigs as the summer approaches. And unfortunately, its becoming harder and harder to get the other band members together to rehearse. Travel time is prohibitive and as adults we all have jobs and families that require our attention. One gig requires that we begin playing at 10:30 PM and play until three in the morning. And once we’re packed up its five in the morning when we get home. Frankly, I don’t know how bands manage to play six nights a week and not drop dead after just a few years. Nonetheless, rock and roll music is a young man’s game. And if you have managers and roadies to handle all the “deals” and set up your equipment it makes life infinitely easier. Then you might last five years in the business. But I fully understand why there are so many alcoholics and drug abusers in the business. It’s a tough game but if you hit it big it can be rewarding and great fun…..but few of us ever make it in the business.

Sorry I don’t have a lot of interesting stuff to offer in this Newsletter. I’ll try to have some interesting adventures to report next time. Right now its 4PM and I’m headed off for a nap before I have to make dinner for my family. Think I’ll try the Hungry Mans TV dinner spiced up with some Hamburger Helper for our meals tonight. And for desert I’ll offer some Twinkies that I know my daughter will love. And for drinks I’ll offer up a fresh batch of Kool-Aid (red)! Regardless, when my wife comes in and sees the menu I’m convinced that she’ll suggest that we go out for Italian food at the local boutique Italiano bistro. And while we’re there I’m certain she’ll order a carafe of very excellent wine just to enhance the quality of the dining experience! I’ll have spaghetti with meat sauce, the same dinner I’ve had the last fifty times we’ve been there. And I’ll pick out the black olives from my salad because I hate them. Olives are the food of devil worshipers! And for desert I won’t have their damned gourmet “fru-fru” crème broulet Italian ice cream cheese cake with cinnamon flavored whip cream and Brazilian nuts on top. I just won’t have it. I’ll pick up a package of red licorice Twizzlers for the ride home. That’s what real men have for dessert. Nonetheless, the entire dinner will cost me dearly………..but I don’t care in the least because I won’t have to do the dishes!

Take care and keep in touch please, Ralph

PS Its now four hours later. The dinner was great, I had the spaghetti, and the red Twizzlers were a perfect way to end the evening. I was not in the least disappointed!

Two weeks ago I took my wife and daughter on a Disney Cruise. My daughter had “begged” to partake in such an experience for years and for her eighth birthday I gave her three tickets for passage on the Disney Wonder. We flew into West Palm Beach a few days before the cruise and enjoyed the warm weather and green landscape. Considering that we had about six feet of snow on the ground in Lake George the timing for the trip could not have been better. Eventually we made our way up to Port Canaveral and spent a few hours on the local beach before we boarded the Disney vessel. The local beach provided me with great entertainment as a few thousand college kids romped and played in the water and on the hot sand.

I have to be honest here. Most eighteen year old women are gorgeous. Their bodies are perfect, their skin is how it should be and everything about them is angelic. And frankly, sitting on a beach staring at almost totally nude, eighteen year old women is a sight for sore eyes. If this is a definition of a “dirty old man” than I’m it. I admit it freely and I’m proud of it! I really dislike the term “object” but I really do see women as objects of art. Kindly don’t misconstrue this statement. It is only a term of endearment. I have the greatest respect for all life on the planet but gorgeous women just knock me out. They are an absolute gift from the gods! And I suspect that fifty percent of the people in this country (of which 90% will be straight men and 10% will be gay women) will agree with me. But I’ll change the subject now before some idiot takes extreme offense at my comments.

But as long as I’m on the subject of beach bathing I feel the need to comment on today’s swim apparel. It seems that in the past few years men’s bathing suits have gotten longer and larger and women’s bathing suits have shrunk to almost non-existence. And that’s fine with me.

And so after a few hours of just sitting and admiring the view my family and I made our way to the port of huge ships. I have to admit that there are virtually no “bugs” in the organization of Disney cruises. Other than the fact that I was nearly run over by a Disney bus when I parked my car ($36) and even though twenty five hundred people wanted to get on the ship at the same time, the customs line, the luggage line , in fact, just about everything went smoothly.

So on we went and at first it was rather thrilling and exotic. Sailing on a huge cruise ship to the Caribbean is, in truth, a rather romantic thing to do. Once on board we wandered around the ship and I have to admit it was amazing. But as time went by I noticed things that I, as the perpetual critic found, well, strange.

Our cabin was tiny although well appointed. Further, it was an interior cabin and once the lights were turned off it was pitch black. Because there were no windows the air was almost suffocating. And I can completely understand why people often come down with respiratory illnesses on board ships. Further, if I was claustrophobic I would have “freaked out!” Nonetheless, our luggage arrived in the room within an hour of our boarding. The dining rooms were extraordinary as was the food and the service. Unfortunately, we were assigned to sit at a dining table for the duration of the trip with another family. And at each meal the grandfather felt the need to describe to me, in great detail, the problems he was having passing a kidney stone. The rest of the family remained quiet and withdrawn at each meal and they seemed almost upset as my wife and I chatted throughout our meals. We did our best to engage them but there was, frankly, no chemistry between us. Further, we found the gratuity arrangements interesting. A fifteen per cent addition was added onto each bill for meals and at the end of the cruise each passenger received an extra form telling us the appropriate amount we should leave waiters, hosts, servers, assistant servers, and room cleaners as extra tips. And we could, the form mentioned, leave such tips on our credit cards or in the special attached envelopes complete with the individuals name and position neatly printed on the front!

But what really gets me is the marketing at any Disney experience. You might as well just give them all of your money before you arrive. There are Disney photographers everywhere. They take your picture at meals, at parties, standing in line, on the beach, with Disney characters, around the pool, at sunset, at day break and on and on. And each photo, if you purchase it, is just $89 complete in a cardboard frame! And it’s not surprising that there were long lines to have photos made with Mickey Mouse and all the other Disney characters. And if it’s not the photographers, its cocktail servers. Each drink is eight bucks. And the servers are in your face every ten feet and every two minutes. “Just a quick swipe your card please sir”, I heard a million times. I didn’t have any cocktails on that trip or buy any of their photographs. I’m certain that the finance people at Disney were upset with me for not spending more money.

But what I really found most depressing were the vacationers on the cruise. Imagine twenty five hundred fat people, stuffing themselves twenty four hours a day with food and drink. Most of these people really did make pigs of themselves. And most of these same people should not wear bathing suits. What was most disgusting were women with tree trunk legs, big fat asses and their tits hanging out all over the place. And all they did all day and all night were to lounge on reclining chairs and drink their drinks and smoke their filthy cigarettes. I sat next to a few of these “sun worshipers” one afternoon and all they talked about was hair styles, the latest Wal-Mart fashions and how much they hated the new bathing suits K-Mart was offering at their discount stores. And the men were no different. How some people can live with themselves and their beer bellies is beyond me. I’m convinced there is some sort of personality change once people reach thirty years old. Most people under thirty (actually under twenty) are reasonable fit. After thirty people just seem to think about immediate pleasures and much they can dominate food and drink. It’s a bad approach to healthy living.

At any rate the ship departed, my daughter went away with other kids and Mickey Mouse, and I took a lengthy nap. In the morning we landed in Nassau, departed the boat and were immediately accosted by a hundred or so black guys with bright white teeth and all wearing suits and ties and wanting to sell us everything from Voo Doo dolls to private tours of the island on horse drawn carriages. We declined all offers but wandered through town for an hour before returning to the boat. I was tempted to buy myself a new watch but balked at the $2,500 price tags. Considering that I have worn the same watch (I found it in my driveway) for four years I just couldn’t justify the expense. My daughter spent the afternoon with other kids on the boat, my wife spent the afternoon at the spa and I wandered aimlessly around the ship wishing I was somewhere else. That night I listened to the grandfather at our dining table describing the different types of kidney stones he was trying to pass. The following day we landed at Castaway Cay, a private island operated by the gentle folks at Disney. It really was spectacular. In the morning we rented bicycles and took a tour of the island. My daughter spent the afternoon with a Disney group where she was bitten by a stingray and my wife and I lounged on the beach where I refused to have my photo made by more than a dozen photographers and declined cocktails from more wandering servers than I can remember. That evening I again listened politely to further stories of kidney stones and then retired for the evening. In the morning we left the boat and easily made our way through customs.

As I write this I can think of nothing more boring than a cruise. The mere thought of going on another cruise is tortuous for me. And if it were not for gorgeous young women in bathing suits, sitting on a beach is nearly as bad. But the thought of exposing myself to millions of rads of radiation from the sun is quite upsetting. And the thought of having to look at overweight people in bathing suits who shouldn’t be out there in the first place is not my idea of a vacation.

That afternoon we picked up my sister-in-law and father-in-law in Miami and made our way down to Key West for a week in paradise. Truly heaven on earth the old, historic section of Key West with its lush vegetation and old conch houses is sight for tired eyes. True, the Keys are very “built-up” and commercial but we have a tendency to stay away from the tourists traps. Our favorite B&B is the Ambrosia House on Fleming Street. It’s a small place occupying three or four old conch homes. The facility includes dramatic tropical gardens, two heated swimming pools, a great breakfast and sits in the heart of the old section of town. For my taste the Ambrosia House is everything I could ask for. My favorite activity (strange as it seems) is to wander the old section of Key West and feed the cats and wild chickens that run freely all across town. The local restaurants are a delight. My favorite is B.O.’s. In truth, in any other city, the building that houses the restaurant, if you can call it that, would be condemned. It is nothing more than a shack made from local architectural salvage. Chickens and wild cats wander below your feet and you can carve your initials on any wall or table in the house. But the food is great as is the atmosphere. It’s my kind of place.

While in the Keys I always have several plates of raw oysters during my stay. On my third day there I ordered a dozen of the slimy things and happily ate the first half while downing a few pina coladas. The final few oysters didn’t look right to me so I didn’t finish them. That afternoon I went fishing but failed to land anything. That evening I went to bed early. Around midnight I woke shivering so I took a hot shower. It was then that the waves of nausea washed over me. I can assure readers that there is nothing worse than throwing up all over yourself in a shower. It was horrible but at least I was able to clean myself after an hour of retching my guts out on the shower floor. I didn’t sleep the rest of the night. In the morning I was mumbling to myself and couldn’t keep anything in my stomach. I can assure anyone reading this that I was very near death (at least in my mind). So without further hesitation my wife drove me to the hospital where I spent the day having IV fluids of all sorts pumped into me and having more blood drawn from my body than I thought existed. Three days later I was OK. But I can assure everyone that I will never again eat raw oysters (or take more pills then are prescribed)!

Nonetheless, I was not to be denied the opportunity to fish the flats off key West for tarpon! So for the next three days I fished with a guide for the ultimate game fish. On the second day my wife and daughter came with me and in the early afternoon my fifty pound daughter did a brief battle with a sixty pound tarpon. To my horror she was nearly pulled from the boat (there were sharks around) when the fish slammed her bait. Unfortunately, the fish was too much for her and the battle lasted only half a minute or so. That evening I landed a great looking eighteen pound permit. The following day produced nothing other than a few quick looks at migrating tarpon and a near miss with a bull shark that cruised near our boat.

But I was not to be denied. I called the guide in the late afternoon of our last day in the Keys and he agreed to take me out for the evening bite. It’s magical on the ocean in the evening. To the west a dull haze turned the sun a glowing red. As I watched the sun surrender to the edge of the earth I marveled in the realization that everything I am, every element and every atom in my body was made inside of a sun that burned violently millions and millions of years ago. And to the East I stood mesmerized as a full moon poked its face from below the horizon of the ocean. And a smile came to my face with the thought that our very moon once rotated only a few thousand miles above the earth. And at that time the tidal waves from the pull of the moons gravity were more than ten thousand feet tall and drove waves hundreds of miles inland. That violent activity churned elements and atoms into a chemistry that ultimately led to the creation of enzymes and life on the planet. Quite an amazing thought if you think about it!

As the sun set my fishing pole jerked with an unexpected violence. Some thirty feet from me a tarpon roared from the shallow waters and tore line from my reel. He jumped three times before spitting the hook in my face. It was enough, however, to appease my tired and sore spirit. Thinking we would then return to dry land I was only too happy when the guide anchored up in a channel about three miles off shore. My first cast and retrieval was met with violent resistance. The fish immediately pulled fifty yards of line from my reel. He ran directly under a nearby boat and succeeded in tangling up their lines with mine. With the fish still on my guide tried to cut the tangled lines but only succeeded in driving a hook from the other boat deep in his hand. A few minutes later the fish jumped and dislodged the hook from the corner of his mouth. I was somewhat disappointed but thrilled that I had a second opportunity to battle a trophy fish.

It was dark now and with the exception of the full moon the only light was from the strange, iridescent glow of the eyes of shrimp as they ventured out for their evening activities. I took my last cast. A giant swell broke the calm of the water where my lure had landed. Twenty feet from me a hundred pound behemoth exploded from beneath the surface sending a spray of water across the boat, the guide and me. Line tore from my reel. The fish, a monster of a beast, jumped six times very near the boat before diving for safer waters. For a half hour I tugged and he pulled. There were no winners during this battle. If I gained line on him he would rip another twenty yards from my reel. Back and forth it went. During such battles, time stands still. Wandering thoughts do not interfere with the present. The strength of the fish seemed to increase as he struggled. I have no doubts that he knew he was fighting for his life. But my intent was to neither hurt nor kill him. I only wanted to be a part of him for a few minutes; I only wanted to know his secrets and his power. I wanted to experience the realities of his world. In time realities came to bear and the strength of the equipment and the experience of the fisherman won out over the brute force of the fish. We brought him near the boat and the guide gently removed the hook from his mouth. In time, I took hold of the fish and tried to pull him from the water so that the guide could make a few photos of me and the fish. But the fish was too heavy and I could only pull him a few feet out of the water.

After a few photos were made the guide started the engine and I held the fishes head in the current to glide water over his gills. Moments later, with a quick push from his mighty tail, the fish descended into the dark water never to be seen by me again. I will never forget him and I’m certain that he will make certain that the food he eats in the future is never connected to a hook, line and fisherman.

Back on dry land I had a late dinner with my family and quietly smiled to myself as I thought of the fish and the quiet evening on the ocean.

The following morning we left Key West and traveled up the keys. We could not help but stop at a few of the tourist traps to make photos and buy a few souvenirs. As evening approached we left my in-laws off in Palm Beach and drove another hour south toward Miami where a plane would take us home in the morning. Before we reached our hotel I took a wrong turn off the expressway and wound up in a neighborhood with trashed cars, liquor stores and homeless men on each corner. I stopped for a red light. From my review mirror I noticed a man approaching my vehicle on the driver’s side. He should not have been there. My blood pressure shot up like a Roman candle. I’ve seen too many movies and read too many news reports about car jackings. I slammed my foot on the gas and did a u-turn in the middle of the intersection. Two cars had to slam on their brakes to avoid hitting me. But I couldn’t care less. Within minutes I was back on the expressway and out of harm’s way. I really don’t need some drug addict attacking me or my family. I will do whatever is necessary to survive and keep my family safe..

So the following morning we landed back in Albany and drove back to Lake George with its four feet of snow, a few hundred emails and a few dozen phone calls that needed to be returned. We went to bed early that night and woke to twenty degrees below zero in the morning. It would have been incredibly easy for me to hop on a plane and return to the Keys. And I would have done so if my daughter was not in school. I’m tired of battling extreme elements.

While I’m thinking about my daughter I believe that I have failed as a parent in some way. Where I went wrong I don’t know but I know things are not right. Last fall I had my daughter in Yellowstone National Park. I woke her early from a sound sleep in the Old Faithful Inn. It was still dark when we drove from the parking lot. About fifteen minutes north I parked the van and walked with my daughter about a hundred yards on a trail to a small ridge. In the meadow below us was a vast heard of bison grunting and moaning as they do. Some fifty yards from away a huge bull elk appeared from a thicket and bellowed and bugled his majestic presence to the world. In the far distance we heard the solemn howls of a wolf as he sought the companionship of his fellow clan members. And as we watched the scene before us the sun poked its head from behind a few billowing storm clouds off in the distance. It was, no doubt in my mind, a magical moment. A few minutes later my daughter looked at me with all her innocence and said “Daddy, can we go shopping?”

On another subject my love affair with the sun as a youth has come back to haunt me. My bi annual trip to my dermatologist last week was a real wake up call. The cancerous and pre cancerous cells on my face had come back with a vengeance. My MD decided to blast me with his laser gun for a half hour. It was, perhaps, the most painful thing I have endured to date. The numbing crème he applied was worthless during the procedure and it was suggested that I take Aleve that evening. I walked out of the office looking as red as a boiled lobster and feeling just as bad. I really did look like a bright red tomato. Fortunately I had some left over painkillers from a root canal procedure that proved to be mildly effective during my week long recuperation. So I sit here today with the skin on my face is peeling like a fried onion. It’s been a miserable week for me and I can assure people that spending time in the sun can come back to haunt you.

But I suppose I should talk about business for awhile. Frankly, we’ve never been busier. I guess my thirty years of effort is finally paying off. Our beds are selling like hot cakes and everything else, as long as it’s very high end, are quickly finding new homes. But I have to be really honest here. My business is not for normal people. The average professional business individual would laugh at my efforts. Here’s why; we keep our margins very low on everything. There is nothing in my gallery that we “double out” on. Our margins are anywhere between five and forty percent. And in truth, there is not a “normal” business in the world that offers things for less than a one hundred percent mark-up. Up until the first of the year we even offered hickory furniture at 40% off the suggested retail price. But, unfortunately the manufacturers have dramatically raised our prices so we can only offer hickory furniture at 25% off the retail price.

Nonetheless, we make a living by volume. We sell lots of stuff. And I have lots of irons in the fire.

Tragically, I am now paying ten thousand dollars a year for health insurance for myself and my family. This is a big chunk of money and I can only hope that our elected officials do something (I don’t know what) to ease the burden on small businesses regarding the health insurance issue.

My latest book, RUSTIC FIREPLACES, will be on the market shortly. The book shows more than a 150 different fireplaces and will be an important resource for builders, contractors, masons, architects and anyone looking for an enjoyable evening curled up in front of their own fireplace (or wishing they were!). I have an advanced copy here and I’m thrilled with the book. The book retails for $30 but! , I’ll happily sell it to my subscribers for $20 plus $6 shipping.

My next book, CABIN IN THE WOODS, will be on the market early this fall. The book will feature some of the absolute greatest rustic homes in America. It started off to be a book on small rustic homes but quickly evolved to include a few large homes as well. This book will retail for $40 but as the time approaches I’m certain I’ll offer it for a significantly cheaper price to interested readers.

On March 31and April 1 I’ll be exhibiting at THE RUSTIC SHOW at the O’neill Center in Danbury, Ct. This promises to be a significant event as great artists such as Barry Gregson, Bill Coffee and Russ Gleaves, Jerry Farrell, Reid Crosby, Dan Mack, Bim Willow, Steve Chisholm and other extraordinary artists show their recent creations. I’ll be there with several pieces from Barney Bellinger, Randy Holden and others as well as signing books for interested individuals. Call Richard at 1-800-834-9437 for more information.

And between April 13-15, I’ll be exhibiting at the LAKE, HOME AND CABIN SHOW at The Schaumburg Convention Center just outside of Chicago. Right now there are about 152 different businesses that have signed up for the show and each business will occupy between 1 and 6 booths each. That means that there will be lots of stuff to see. From what I understand there are still a few booths available so if there are any artisans out there wanting a great place to show off their work consider exhibiting at this show. It will be a great place to meet people and sell some of your products. Personally, I have a very large 20’-30’ booth and plan on bringing several very high end items and signing books as well. While there I’ll also be doing at least two TV appearances to promote the show! For more information please call Porch Light Productions at 952-471-1192.

I’ll be in Montana for most of June and most of August I’ll be in Washington State and Canada working on different projects and books.

This summer I’ll be working on a book called THE GREAT AMERICAN BOATHOUSE and other projects as well. I’ll have the Boathouse book completed by early January and hope it will be on the market in the fall of 2008. I’m also working of several other books at the same time and will announce the titles as we get nearer the time of completion for each project.

And then this fall is the annual RUSTIC FURNITURE FAIR at the Adirondack Museum followed by the ADIRONDACK MOUNTAINS ANTIQUE SHOW in Indian Lake, NY. The first week of September also sees the Western Design Conference held this year in Jackson, Wyoming. And there are plans for another show and exhibit in Cody, Wyoming, this year as well. More on that event as plans and dates are announced.

And so spring is just around the corner. Its fifty degrees outside here today and the ice is melting. Pools of water have formed on Lake George but the diehard ice fishermen are still out there in their shanties trying to catch one last fish before the ice fads away. The deer in my back yard have lost their antlers and in a few months I expect to see a few tiny fawns on wobbly legs prancing on the lawn out behind my home. I doubt if I’ll have a chance to again use the new skis I bought this year but winter and nature have a way of fooling you. St. Patrick’s day is next weekend and my family and I will see the great Chieftans for an Irish music festival this coming weekend. Tomorrow morning I’ll have to dig out my trailer so that I can make a few deliveries over the next week and soon there’ll be a flood of people in my gallery looking for new items as summer residents open their cottages and camps for the spring. In truth, it was a short winter. The snow and cold came late this year and I won’t be sorry to see them go. Or maybe it’s just that time passes faster now that I’m older. I’ll be sixty in June, not long from now. I find myself thinking of people I knew when I was younger now. Several of my friends have passed on and I wish I could have just a few more minutes with them. And I think of the people who I would have liked to have known better but I was too immature in my younger years to tell them how I felt. And I wish that I had worked harder throughout my life. And I think of regrettable things I’ve done that bother me more and more now that I’m older. But I suppose we all think this way sometimes. And I think of my family now and my life and my hobbies and abilities and remind myself, with a little smile in my heart, that life can be great sometimes. I hope to experience more of it. Take care, Ralph

PS. We saw the Chieftans last night in Albany. If you want to see a really great show please see them. They are playing at Carnegie Hall Saturday night, St Patrick’s Day, in New York City.

I have to admit something. The world is such a crazy place. We’re constantly bombarded with both bad and shocking news. And this kind of stuff pulls at the sanity of everyone. I have to admit that seeing the Chieftans last night reminded me that there really are good things in the world and there really are lots of people working to make the world a better place. It’s a good thought to keep in mind once in a while. And we all need something to lift our spirits. Let’s hope that the people who run the world realize that it’s better to make great art than to waste lives and money on things that don’t improve the quality of life for all humanity.

The world is full of nutty people. I’m not kidding. I’m the only one who is normal. And I often wonder about that. My last newsletter opened with a photo of me in a Popes costume that I purchased from Wal-Mart for about $20. It was a fairly convincing outfit and I had fun wearing it to a Halloween costume party where my band played. A few days after I posted the photo I heard from several different people. One group of people thought that it was a Klu Klux Klan outfit and that I was advocating hatred and segregation. A few people told me how proud they were because I was finally preaching the true religion of hatred. Another group, who though I was a Klan member that had finally come out of the closet, told me that Jesus would come down from heaven and strike me straight down to hell. Another group declared “blaspheme” and said I was mocking religion and their savior Jesus Christ. To all of you people who sent me comments…go screw your selves. You’re all nuts. No one is going to save you or anyone else for that matter. If you want to be saved stop drinking and smoking, get some exercise, be responsible, develop your talents, finish your high school education, get educated and try to make the world a better place. Stop complaining about other people…just do something good for a change and take your crazy religion elsewhere. And leave me alone. And to the “ordained” individuals with your academic religious degrees……go out and get a real job. If you want to see miracles spend a Saturday evening in an emergency room in any inner city hospital. Medical doctors save more lives that any religious fanatic ever has.

And while I’m on the subject, to all of the people out there who lead their lives on exactly what the bible says please read the following;

“If your brother, the son of your father or of your mother, or your son or daughter, or the spouse who you embrace, or your most intimate friend, tries to secretly seduce you , saying “Let us go and serve other Gods”, unknown to you or your ancestors before you, gods of the peoples surrounding you, whether near you or far away, anywhere throughout the world, you must not consent, you must not listen to him; you must show him no pity, you must not spare him or conceal his guilt. No, you must kill him; your hand must strike the first blow in putting him to death and the hands of the rest of the people following. You must stone him to death….” (Deuteronomy 13:7-11).

And then on the other hand somewhere the bible says “Thou Shalt Not Kill”. Am I misreading something here? Is this a contradiction of earlier biblical teachings? I’ll let all the sage, biblical intellectuals figure this one out. And when you do please let me hear from you. I’d love to try to understand your reasoning.

But what really gets me is when certain religions declare that they are the "chosen ones". And that all the rest of us are "less perfect, inferior or less blessed" than the ones who are "chosen". Or others that state that "blond haired, blue people" (Aryans) are better than everyone else. Or that Catholics are following the wrong god or that Lutherans are only interested in deer hunting and fishing. This kind of talk is the epitome of absolute arrogance. It makes me sick to my stomach to hear people say this kind of stuff. It’s the absolute cradle of stupidity. This is how hatred begins and wars are started. This is the kind of stuff that leads to oppression, violence and death. And all in the name of religion, in the name of God. It’s a sad world we live in because kids learn this kind of stuff from their parents and their parents learned it from their parents. And frankly, our stupidity and arrogance will be the end of us. Tragic, it is, to see the product of millions of years of evolution destroying itself. It nearly kills me just to think about it."

So here we have our president who goes to church every Sunday, prays daily and follows the teachings of Jesus and the Bible. And so far more than three thousand American soldiers have been killed in Iraq. I could go on and on about all this but frankly the entire organized religious thing disgusts me!

And it’s shocking to think that more than a third of the people in America actually believe that Jesus Christ himself is actually going to return shortly to judge us and put an end to the world. People who believe this kind of crap are nothing more than fools and puppets. And every week they donate money to the priests, prophets and rabbis who laugh all the way to the bank.

So what do I personally believe? Consciousness is a unique electro/chemical interaction in the brain. Each living thing has it. Each living person has it. It is an astonishing thought. When you finally realize the uniqueness of each living thing you may come to the conclusion that we all share something extraordinary in common. The thought of taking life aware from anything is appalling to me. Further, the thought of an “after life” disgusts me. Why? Because it debases and devalues the life that we presently have. It makes people lazy. “Oh, I’ll just sit around and be lazy, pray a lot and wait for heaven to come along”, is a pervasive thought that I’ve heard before. Let me tell you something. Life will never get any better unless you make it better. Our lives are not to be wasted sitting around doing nothing or praying all day long. As an old saying goes “its better to study for two hours than to pray for two hours asking for help to pass a test.” Life is astonishing. Its only happens once. Clerics argue about near death experiences, heading toward the light and a bunch of other stuff that happens when you die. Each of those phenomena is easily explainable. Deprive the eyes and a few other parts of the brain for just a few seconds and you get the same sensations. The greatest thrill is getting good at something. When I watch my fingers slide over my guitar strings, when I make a great photograph, when I see a beautiful scene; these are heavenly experiences to me. And they don’t just happen. Its takes years to become a competent musician, or, for that matter, competent at anything. Art is worth the struggle, it’s worth the effort. Art is a profound blessing on ones live and it is available to everyone. Life will kick in the pants often but living a life of effort and competence is an absolute blessing.

But enough of this kind of stuff (at least for the time being)..

So how did you like the Presidents State of the Union Address? How many times have you heard that we must stop our dependence on foreign oil? Every president since Jimmy Carter has said exactly the same thing. But NOOOOO. No one has the courage to stand up and suggest that in two years we eliminate six and eight cylinder vehicles. That would solve our dependence on foreign oil immediately and make a serious dent in global warming as well. But our politicians are all cowards…everyone of them. None of them have the courage or foresight to think more then a few years ahead. And listen very carefully to this. If we just stopped importing oil the Mid Easterners would no longer have the money to buy weapons to do battle with us. They would be begging us for food in six months. We would no longer have to sacrifice the lives of our young men and women in a stupid war. Are not our young brothers, sons, husband’s, daughters and wives important enough to us to curtail our use of oil? Or am I the only one who thinks this makes sense?

And it’s now apparent that our government has suppressed hundreds of reports warning of the impending disaster of global warming. Isn’t the president supposed to “serve and protect” the citizens of the United States? And good old George W. is leading us right into an epic catastrophe. And he’s doing it so he and filthy friends can make more money by selling oil. I really hope that other people in America can both see and understand this. Frankly, George W. and his entire cabinet should be impeached.

OK, OK, I’ll stop rambling on about this kind of stuff. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.

On another, more relevant subject, I should mention the Adirondack Mountains Antique Show, held annually in Indian Lake, NY, in the middle of September each year. I’ve exhibited at every one of these shows for the past fifteen years. This past year there were fewer exhibitors than the year before. Nonetheless, I had the single best day I even had in thirty years of being in the rustic furniture business. The right retail people were there. I just about sold out my entire booth and several retail people came to my gallery after the antique show was closed. We stayed open until nearly midnight as car after car pulled into my parking lot. Anyone who does not exhibit at this show is missing a great opportunity to sell their stuff. For more information call Jerry at 518 861 5062.

As long as I’m talking about shows the Western Design Conference has been sold to new owners. The WDC will no longer be held in Cody, Wyoming. Its new home will be Jackson, Wyoming and will occur September 6-8. For more information contact: Nancy McCullough –McCoy, Publisher, Teton Home and Living, (208) 354-3466. I suspect that this will become one of the great shows in America and its new location will bring many of the wealthiest connoisseurs and lovers of Western art and Rustic furnishings in direct contact with the greatest rustic artists in the country.

At the same time plans are underway for a new show to be held in Cody, Wyoming. Cody has long been the bastion of Western Rustic furniture builders and the local artists will, no doubt, put together a great show. I have every intention of attending the new Cody show and I hope others will as well. Once plans for the show, dates, and a new name for the exhibit are established I’ll happily post the information on my site.

And keep in mind the Rustic Show For Contemporary Living to be held on March 31st - April 1st in Danbury, CT., I’ll be exhibiting, lecturing, and signing books at this new event. on my site.

Contact Richard at (800) 834-9437

And between April 13 and 15, I’ll be exhibiting and signing books at the LAKE, HOME AND CABIN SHOW in Schaumburg, Illinois. Call Dave at 888 471 1192. The Lake Home and Cabin Show is also held in Minneapolis and Milwaukee the two consecutive weeks before the Schaumberg show. This is the first time the show will also be held in the Chicago area and it promises to be a grand event. I have many customers in the Chicago area and many of them plan on attending the exhibit. I look forward to a great event in the ‘Windy City”!

This past weekend I took my daughter skiing here in the Adirondacks. She’s been taking ski lessons for the past month and I’ve been told she’s been progressing nicely. We’ll, we rented all of the gear, put on our best ski outfits and stood in line for a ride to the top of the runs. I hadn’t skied in years but quickly remembered the moves. It’s like riding a bicycle. You just don’t forget that kind of stuff. On several occasions I amazed myself with my ability to drive in the edges of my skis, make quick turns, and stop on a dime whenever I wanted. I enjoyed the quick rush of the snow on my face and the wind in my hair. My wife and daughter were both impressed and I was quite proud of myself as well! And I didn’t fall once! We’re returning to the slopes this weekend and I promise I’ll try something other than the Bunny Hill!

All in all business continues to be excellent here at the Ralph Kylloe Gallery. It’s only the high end things that are selling. Beds, dining room tables, paintings, sets of chairs, entertainment centers, desks, end tables and sofa tables are all selling well. We’ve also taken many orders for vanities and complete kitchen cabinet sets. We have a new supply of bear heads hanging on our gallery wall and we are expecting a half dozen moose heads within two weeks. Our original Persian carpets sell as fast as we can bring them in and our antique rustic accessories almost walk out the door with eager buyers. And although I don’t advertise my antique items last year we sold nearly a hundred pieces of antique hickory furniture and five major historical birch bark, Adirondack pieces from my gallery as well.

Speaking of hickory furniture. I’ve always been an “underdog” kind of guy. There are several “big” companies out there building hickory furniture but some of the “little guys” deserve a chance as well. And I love to see talented, entry level people make a career for themselves. If you’re thinking about hickory furniture call;

Kevin Sluder
Flat Creek Rustic Furniture
173 Old Mars Hill Highway
Weaverville, NC 28787
828 645 5899
www.flatcreekrustics.com

Kevin builds exceptional hickory furniture and has progressed into some great looking regional rustic pieces as well. I’ve sold several of his pieces here in my gallery and plan on having more in the future. Check this guy out! You won’t be disappointed.

Another individual to call is:
John Ketchum
Woods Rustic Furnishings
1013 Washington Ave.
Shelbyville, Indiana 46176
317 392 4347

John was a cabinet builder for Old Hickory for several years and went out on his own a few years ago. He’s a very talented guy and can build anything out of hickory wood you could ever imagine. I also carry his furniture here in my gallery.

And so winter is here. We lost power for a few days last week in a major ice storm. We spent the night in a local hotel and my daughter enjoyed going up and down the indoor water slide at the hotel. I could only do it once as the ride nearly scared me to death.

In the early afternoon the turkeys eat the food we leave out for them in my backyard. In the evening the deer show up and seem to honestly appreciate the cracked corn and grain we place near the rustic gazebo in our yard. Soon the ice fishermen will place dozens of shanties on Lake George and will no doubt enjoy catching perch and lake trout through the ice. And it’s always interesting to see a pizza delivery truck stop at several of the shanties as the day progresses.

We will be spending the last two weeks of February in Florida. The first week we’re taking a Disney Cruise which I pray will not be too boring for me. The second week we’ll be in Key West to feed the cats, wild chickens and an occasional pan handler. I plan on bringing my old Dobro guitar down there and playing it late at nights on a corner of Duval Street. I’ve always wondered what it was like to be a street musician in a big time tourist town. If you see me down there I hope you’ll take pity on me and toss a quarter in my “tips can”. I can use the money. This is also the start of the Tarpon run in the Keys and I’ll spend some time fly fishing for these monster fish. It’s strictly catch and release as I have no interest in harming these beautiful creatures.

I couldn’t help but notice but in the past few years there have been more than eight hundred and fifty five thousand (855,000) visits to my website. Holy cow! Or maybe it’s just some misdirected soul who looked at the site 855,000 times. I’ll never know but I will say that I really do appreciate hearing from people. Strange as some people are I love to hear different view points. I just hope that too many people don’t condemn me to hell. It just might be terrible if I was wrong about things.

Please take care of yourselves, Ralph

In October (I don't remember the exact date) my band played a gig in Albany at a trendy wine bar. We started playing at around eight in the evening. More than a hundred people watched us closely and applauded wildly during the middle and at the end of many of our songs. As we took a break at the end of our first set I couldn't help but notice the large screen TV directly over the band stand. The audience had been cheering for their favorite team in the World Series and not for our musical talents and showmanship. Life is cruel sometimes.

We also played on Saturday night (November 18) at a private party in Albany. After the gig I finally arrived home at around two in the morning. I ate a light breakfast, packed my bags and left for the airport an hour later. I had to fight with my self just to keep awake during the hour drive to the airport. I parked my car, got a ride to the terminal in the shuttle bus and waited in line for nearly an hour while computer illiterate people struggled with the self service check-in computer terminals. There is a new "identified" malady in the annals of professional psycho-babble today. It's called "computer rage". People have been known to actually shoot their computers and every once in a while someone tosses a computer out an office building window without shouting "look out below"! And every few minutes I could hear someone complaining about the "god damned computers" in line at the airport.

Technology is great but for me nothing is more irritating than having to touch twenty different buttons on my phone in order to solve a problem. Just try talking to a real person at Amazon.com or Ebay or just about any airline. It's nearly impossible. Personally, I really like talking with real people. Big business is no doubt saving money by having computers answer their phones but, Holy Cow, the impersonal service is really disgusting.

So I finally get my ticket and proceed through the security check point. There just about every woman (and several men) had to discard their bottles of perfume, water, toothpaste and all kinds of other stuff before they could get to the flight gates. I completely understand the realities of this but I just wish that people who want carry that kind of stuff on board planes would realize that they can no longer take things like that with them. An enormous amount of time is lost as people want to argue and complain with the security agents who are just trying to make the flights safe for everyone.

On another note it's incredibly sad that security agents are often both completely unresponsive and unconcerned with the comfort of people going through security checkpoints. The worst of the experience for me and others is shoes. Sure, its necessary to run shoes through the x-ray scanners but at least provide some chairs so old folks like me can sit down to retie our shoes. In Chicago I saw one elderly woman sitting on the floor struggling with her shoes. I had to help her stand because there were no chairs for her to sit to redress her feet. And none of the "guards" appeared anxious to help her. I expressed my concern about the lack of chairs and the poor lady on the ground to one of the agents who obviously was preoccupied and unconcerned. He turned, and towering over me said in his finest junk yard dog attitude, "do we have a problem here?" I just walked away.

Just another strange incident in an airport I thought to myself as I finished my second hot dog while I waited three hours for my next flight.

I finally arrived in San Francisco. It was a non-eventful flight. I watched Pirates of the Caribbean in English for the first two hours and then watched the same movie only in Spanish during the last two hours of the flight. I didn't understand a word that was spoken during the second viewing but the graphics and special effects were, as my seven year old daughter says, "way cool!" Upon arrival I found my luggage and picked up my rental car. Things were going well.

I made my way into downtown San Francisco and enjoyed the sights of that great city. In time I found a parking space and wandered into a trendy restaurant near the bay and Fisherman's Wharf. It was still early and only one table was occupied. I sat at the bar and ordered a beer and dinner. The occupied table was surrounded by a dozen or so men who all seemed to be having a good time. As I drank my beer one of the men came over and sat down on the bar stool next to me.

"Hi", he said.

"Hello", I responded. In truth, although I am a friendly guy and usually enjoy the companionship of others, I was tired and just wanted to be alone, have a nice dinner, find a hotel room and pass out.

"You're in town on business?'

"Yes, I am".

"Where are you staying?'

"I don't know yet". After several more questions he asked me if I would like to join him and his friends at his table. "No, thank you" was all I said. He left and rejoined his group.

A few minutes later another man from the table sat down next to me.

"We're going out dancing tonight. Why don't you come with us?"

I looked him right in the eye and said "no, thank you". I returned to my fresh fish sandwich. He left.

As I was finishing the last of my fries another gentleman from the same group sat down right next to me.

"What kind of business are you in?" he asked.

I'm going to be really honest here. I have no problem with gay people. At the same time I have absolutely no interest in hearing about their lives or their life styles. I do business with lots of gay decorators and as long as they don't get weird with me I'm OK. In the early 1980s I did business with many gay men in New York City. But they all died of Aids. Some people like apples and some people like oranges. I'll leave it at that.

But it's the raging "fags" and hard core "queens" that get me. They are the strangest people to ever walk the planet. How evolution created overly effeminate gay men is beyond me. They serve no obvious purpose in the giant scheme of things. They are an aberration in the species. My blood pressure rises when I'm around them because I don't know what kind of weird stuff they're thinking. And frankly, I don't want to know.

So here I sat, exhausted, having to explain myself to a bunch of raging fags who wanted me to go dancing with them. What they saw in me was beyond my imagination. About the only person who ever thought I was good looking was my mother. And I'm sorry to say that she was mistaken. I'm just an average guy. I'm sorry, I try to be nice to everyone in the world but sometimes things are beyond my control. I am not a paragon or monument to social graces.

"I haven't had a job in twenty years", I said.

"Where are you coming from?', he asked.

"Prison", I said.

"What were you in for?" he asked.

"Murder", I said.

The smile on his face disappeared like a politician at tax time. I could tell he was searching for something to say. But there was just silence. Moments later and without saying a word he returned to his friends. A few minutes later he and his crowd paid their bill and left the building. None of them looked my way or acknowledged me in any way. For dessert I had a great piece of apple pie and ice cream. After finishing my second beer I paid my bill and left. I than wandered around the Wharf for a few hours, fed the seagulls and listened to the barking of seals that inhabit the bay by the Wharf. It was a grand afternoon.

The following morning I met architect Larry Pearson at the airport. He and I were going to visit a few homes, look at some potential properties and make a few photos of homes he had completed. We drove south through the rolling hills of coastal California. As we passed through groves of mature redwoods I completely understood why people want to live in California. It was seventy degrees, the sun was shining and the ocean smell was intoxicating.

That afternoon we photographed a spectacular Arts and Crafts home in Santa Cruz that had been created from recycled fir and spruce lumber. Late in the afternoon we had a personal tour of a company called IDEO, an impressive think tank that employed seven hundred creative individuals. That evening we had dinner with the owner of the company and several of his friends. It was one of the most enjoyable evenings of my life.

The following day Larry and I wander further south. Years earlier he had completed an addition on an historical home in the redwood forest. The home was spectacular. Bold and majestic, towering redwoods stood like giants as they dwarfed the cabin. We built a raging fire in the fireplace and made photos of the interior of the home. The photos came out well. I hope to use them in an upcoming book.

That evening three of us strolled casually along the beach and talked of architecture, design and the beauty of the area. As the sun set we wandered amongst shops and homes that overlooked the Pacific Ocean. I could not help but notice a "for sale" sign on an older, regional "ground floor condo" that had direct access to the beach. Two small bedrooms, one bath and about 800 sq feet of living space the flyer read. The price tag? Three point nine million. I knew I would not be buying that home in the near future.

I spent the night in a small motel right on the beach and listened to seals barking throughout the night. Great white sharks were known to inhabit these waters and I could not help but wonder about the "mindset" of the many surfers who casually rode the waves.

In the morning I woke significantly before the sunrise and walked along the docks and wharf marveling at the setting. The stars were bright and the sound of the breaking waves was mesmerizing. Near the end of the dock a stair way led to some small rental boats moored to the pylons beneath the pier. I walked slowly down and marveled at the crustaceans and other sea life that had "fixed" themselves to the tall poles. Resting on a horizontal support beam a dark object just a few feet from me raised its head and screamed. Moments later a few hundred elephant seals woke from their sleep, screamed and hollered at me and dove for the safety of the ocean. Weighing up to a ton each they are an intimidating lot.

I was certain that my pounding heart could be heard a mile away as the experience was no less than intimidating. In time, however, one by one, the seals returned to their resting places, complained briefly of my presence and finally relaxed and fell asleep. It was, for me, a very wonderful experience.

As the sun finally rose I found myself back at my room packing. The drive back to the airport was a bit tormenting because California rush hour traffic is nothing less than a trial by fire. At any moment I thought some irate driver might pull a gun on me as cars whipped in and out of traffic like bees returning to a hive.

The long flight home was tolerable. Both planes were full but I have long since accepted my fate of having to sit between fat people with excess gas. It could be worse I keep reminding myself.

I did however, read a very enlightening article in the United Airlines magazine "Hemispheres". The article (November, 2006) , by Nancy Wurst, was titled "Who's Afraid of Ethics?" It was a very enlightening few paragraphs about a man, Bruce Weinstein, Ph.D., called "The Ethics Guy". The article talks about ethical situations and then offered five premises by Weinstein that I found quite profound. Actually, I've written about principals to live your life by for years but this guy offers very concise ideas. Frankly, I wish I wrote them but I have to give credit where credit is due. Here they are, including;

1. Do no harm. This is the bedrock of everything else. Without it there would be chaos.
2. Make things better. This is different from the Law. It demands more if us.
3. Respect others. Maintain confidentiality, tell the truth and keep your promises.
4. Be fair. Especially when allocating resources and punishments.
5. Be Loving. At least strive to be kind and compassionate.

From my perspective this is a very insightful set of principles.

The world would be a much better place if we at least tried to follow the above ideas.

I returned to New York around midnight the day before Thanksgiving. I was very happy to be home. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday as we all have lots to be thankful for. Keep in mind that nothing is so bad that it could not get worse. At any rate I slept late in the morning. Around three in the afternoon five of us went to the Sagamore Resort for a feast. The Sagamore is a grand hotel on the shores of beautiful Lake George. We had cocktails in the lounge and then helped ourselves to a gourmet buffet in the dining room. It was a grand feast until the bill came. Considering that my seven year old daughter only ate a hot dog and coleslaw I felt that $350 was a bit much. I felt better when I realized that they only charged me $18.50 for the hot dog. But I didn't dwell on this. I paid the bill and spent the evening watching football games, playing with my daughter and doing family things. It was a good day. I hope to celebrate more Thanksgivings before my time is up.

Last week I ventured into Manhattan to attend a dinner at the Anglers Club of New York. The event was called "All Thumbs Night". Several of the accomplished "fly tiers" in the club gave demonstrations of their latest creations and taught us neophytes a thing or two about the basics of tying flies. It was a grand evening.

Earlier in the day I had entered the Lincoln Tunnel from the New Jersey side. I had been troubled by my career over the past few days and thoughts of changes in my life echoed in the walls of my head. Once out of the tunnel and on a bill board in New York City, a handsome, elegant black man dressed in the finest religious garb, peered down at me in my vehicle. "Career Change?", read the billboard. "Learn Natural Healing. Bishop Womack, E.I., School of Prophetic Physicians". I really didn't know what the E.I. at the end of the Bishops name meant but I'm certain it's something very important. On the sign was his website and phone #. I may just call him for the inside scoop on his school. The number is 800 4 WOMACK. We all need a change in our lives once in a while. Nonetheless, I'm not exactly sure what a Prophetic Physician does but I don't think it can hurt.

Tragically, I was so enthralled with the possibility of a new career I missed a few turns and wound up going back through the Lincoln Tunnel. Once I figured out where I was the return trip through the tunnel was cost me another six bucks at the toll booth.

Because I had to have some film processed I parked on a side street and wandered through the cement valleys of Manhattan as I looked for my photo lab. On Twenty Third Street a man was walking with six dogs. In time he stopped and a few of his dogs urinated on an iron grate that obviously covered a subway or below-street work area. After a few seconds I heard a man shouting from underneath the sidewalk directly under the grate. I believe he was not happy to have dogs "peeing" on him. I did not wait around long enough to see if he ever emerged from his workspace. From his language and tone in his voice he was not pleased with the situation.

As evening fell I found myself wandering near "ground zero". It was quiet and dark. There were ghosts there. I could feel them. The images of the falling buildings and the terror filled my mind. I left the area after spending only a few minutes there and eventually found my way over to the Anglers Club where I had a very pleasant evening.

And so winter is here. The golden leaves are long gone and I said good night to my cabin on Lake George once I drained the pipes, covered the windows and turned off the electricity for the season. I'm certain in the spring I'll find evidence of the mice who'll winter in my cabin and I'm also certain that the huge moose antlers that rest above my front door will have been further chewed upon by the many squirrels, raccoons and porcupines that eat such things.

My father-in-law, John, is presently living with us until his new home in Chicago is complete. It's a pleasure to have him around as he offers a different perspective on the many different subjects that come up around our dinner table. He's a retired Chicago policeman. He will be here until the first of the year.

In January I'll be back in Montana to finish the text and captions for my book A CABIN IN THE WOODS. My other new book, THE RUSTIC FIREPLACE, is presently at the printer and will be available this coming spring.

In February we're taking out daughter on a Disney cruise in Florida during her winter school vacation. We also plan on spending a few days in Key West as well.

I will be exhibiting at the RUSTIC SHOW FOR CONTEMPORY LIVING in Danbury, Ct., March 31. Call Richard at 800 834 9437. I'll also be exhibiting at the LAKE, HOME AND CABIN SHOW in Chicago, Illinois on April 13. Call Dave Greer at 888 471 1192. Both shows promise to be great events and I look forward to being involved in both exhibitions.

Recently, there has been a misunderstanding between Jeff Fraser, the promoter of the Adirondack Living Show, and my self. I am happy to say that we have resolved our differences and I greatly appreciate his efforts to both clarify and resolve the situation.

Regarding my website: business has been extraordinary the past few months. It appears, however, that nothing has changed on my site. That's because when I bring a few new pieces in my gallery and they sell within a few hours. And most things never get posted on my website! At the same time we're in the process of "remodeling" the site so check back with us soon.

And so it's the holiday season again. Trees in my neighborhood are being trimmed with lights and decorations. We're receiving lots of cards in the mail and my wife has been busy sending packages around the country. It's a good time of the year. I hope that each of us takes just a second out of our busy lives and offer a bit of kindness to others in the world. We'll all feel better about ourselves if we do. Take care and may all of you have a safe and prosperous holiday season. Ralph

PS. If you want to see the famous Ralph Kylloe Band featuring Jill Gautie as lead singer stop on by the Cabernet Café in Albany in January 4, 2007. The music starts at 8PM.

It was a long, strange trip. A few days before I was to leave for Cody, Wyoming and the Western Design Conference I was told that I needed root canal work. I could not find a dentist that had the time available here in New York, so I took off, untreated, for Montana and the West on Monday, September 22.

The first leg of the flight was non-eventful. However, the flight from Chicago to Salt Lake City was strange. It was a huge plane, seven seats across including two isles. One entire family of Spanish speaking individuals occupied three complete rows. I sat in the middle of them. Frankly, on top of the music they were playing each of them talked (actually shouted) at break-neck speed in a language I could not understand. They also were eating beans and other non-identifiable smelly stuff. (I wanted to ask if they all had green cards but felt it was politically incorrect to do so.) At any rate the lady sitting right next to me was holding a little, two year old boy. Once we were off the ground I smiled to the kid. The boy immediately broke from his mothers arms, jumped into my lap and clung to me as if he were attached with gorilla glue. First his mother tried to reclaim him. Then all twenty members of his family tried to retrieve him. The boy was screaming as he clung tighter and tighter to me. You just cannot imagine how strange the situation was. I was just finishing a book on Robert Oppenheimer and the creation of the atomic bomb at Los Alamos. And here I had this kid screaming in my ear and frankly, I had a "buzz" going from the pain killers my local dentist had given me. Within a few feet of me were several highly charged Mexicans yelling in Spanish and trying to pull the kid away from me. Finally, I stood up and said loudly that the kid was OK sitting on my lap. "Leave him alone", I said. I don't know if they understood my statement but they all back off. So there I sat for two hours with a little Mexican kid drooling all over my new $275 Ralph Lauren sport jacket. In time the plane landed, the kid woke up and reached for his mother who seemed to thank god for the return of her son and that he was not harmed by a white haired "gringo" who was reading a book about atomic bombs. She offered me a bowl of black beans in exchange holding her kid for two hours. I declined her offer.

Once I finally landed in Montana I was told that my luggage had missed the flight and would not arrive in Bozeman until the following day. Fully aware that my slides for my presentation at the Western Design Conference in Cody, Wyoming, were in my luggage I nearly panicked. If the slides were lost my presentation would be greatly impaired as people love to see photos of the homes I photograph.

Leaving the airport I found a local hotel and tried to sleep. In great agony however, I called several local dentists but each was too busy to see me. Finally, my wife, God bless her, found a young dentist who was able to fit me into his schedule the following day. He gave me some good drugs in the morning and stuck an IV in my arm once I was sitting in his chair. His wonder drugs allowed me to sleep throughout the procedure. When I awoke he politely drove me to a hotel and told me not to drive a vehicle for at least sixteen hours. Two hours into my nap a loud knock on my door shook me from my bed. My luggage had arrived. How they found me I'll never know. It was now midnight and I had to be in Cody, Wyoming at eight in the morning for my presentation. I packed my car and started to drive. An hour into the trip I realized that I was driving north toward Glacier National Park. In disgust I turned the rental vehicle around and headed south toward Cody. It was dark throughout the drive. Several deer jumped in front of my vehicle but I avoided hitting each.

I arrived in Cody at eight in the morning. I had driven all night. I brushed my teeth in a gas station washroom and tried to make myself look presentable. Shortly, I was in the Buffalo Bill Historical Center speaking to about seventy five people. Frankly, I didn't know where I was or what I said during my speech. I told the audience of my present condition and I believe they understood. I do remember rambling on about something and I do remember the audience applauding when my time was up. To this day, however, I do not know if they were thankful my presentation was over or if they were applauding my talk and slide show. Other than that I don't know what happened. I just hope it went well and that I'll be invited back to the conference sometime.

The Western Design Conference is an extraordinary event. The best builders in the country exhibit their work and I have many friends there. I was also one of the judges for the annual competition. Sam Maloof was also a judge. Sam is America's greatest living furniture builder. His rocking chairs start at $50,000 and he has a five year waiting list. He's also 91 years old and a great man. Charming and charismatic an entourage follows him where ever he goes.

Judging a design contest is not as easy as it sounds. There were five judges and it took about four hours to reach a consensus on the eight awards. However, great art is still great art. Construction techniques, use of materials, design, balance, color, form, and a bunch of other intangible concepts all count. Each judge gravitated toward four or five great pieces and we all agreed on the final few pieces. But the discussions went on and on. In time we awarded the Best of Show prize to Ron Shanor for a gorgeous couch and ottoman set. We also handed out prizes for best leatherwork, jewelry, metal work and a few other awards. Randy Holden from Maine was awarded an honorable mention for one of his exceptional cabinets.

After the show I wandered through the auditorium and chatted with the many artists exhibiting there. I often comment on their pieces and let them know how the judges felt about their furniture. Many find my comments very helpful. For instance, the legs on a table may be too heavy or out of proportion for the top, there may be too many elements or a builder is trying to add too much to a piece when often simpler is better, joinery may be incorrect or the color or staining may be too muddy. It's mostly common sense stuff. Mature people greatly appreciate my comments. Some people do not.

A few years ago a gentleman was greatly insulted when I mentioned that the judges (five of us) felt that the legs on his table were too heavy for the top. He took my comment as a personal attack on him. Nothing could be further from the truth. I didn't know the guy at all. Later in the day I was asked to sign one of my books by another exhibitor at the show. I was right next to the gentleman who I had offered suggestions to earlier in the day. I set the book down on his table and the builder verbally attacked me in front of several others. I could ruin the finish or scratch his table he shouted. I quickly moved away from him. Later several people expressed shock at the exhibitor's outburst. Criticism and suggestions from others, especially when offered in a supportive and encouraging way is not a personal attack on someone's character. I actually felt bad for the guy. He has not spoken to me in years. And unfortunately the legs on his tables are still too heavy for his tops.

But offering suggestions is like walking on thin egg shells. I usually "sandwich" my comments when asked for my opinions on items. For instance, I may say "I really like the selection of materials but you might have made the overhangs a bit more dramatic. And I also like the position of the back splash on the top". Putting the suggestion between positive comments is, at least in my opinion better that blurting out "I really hate the piece".

During the show Lester Santos and his wife, along with Interior Designer Chip Kalleen, Reid Crosby and I visited a great ranch about two hours from Cody. Down an incredible, muddy dirt road and in the middle of a great valley we photographed a stunning ranch complete with taxidermy and western rustic furniture created by Letter Santos. The photos will appear in a new book by me titled A CABIN IN THE WOODS due out a year from now.

All in all I had a great time in Cody. If you get the chance anyone interested in great western designs should attend the Western Design Conference held annually in Cody, Wyoming. It is my favorite event of the year.

I left Cody on Saturday morning. I drove through Yellowstone National Park on my way back to Bozeman. It was peak foliage. Elk and bison were ever present and I stopped occasionally to toss a fly or two in the Shoshone, Fire Hole and Gallatin rivers. It was a magical drive.

That evening I boarded a plane that first stopped in Salt Lake City and then Anchorage, Alaska. It was a red-eye flight to Alaska and I had three seats all to myself. I slept the entire trip. Once we landed I was told that my rental car was not available. Fortunately, however another car was found and I left the airport at around 1: 30 in the morning. Two hours later I arrived in Cooper Landing, Alaska. From previous conversations with the resort manager I was told that my cabin would be open and to just walk in. Upon doing so, at 3:30 AM, I succeeded in startling three others who assured me that the cabin was theirs. I found the managers cabin and was told that they thought I was arriving the following night. Unfortunately, the remaining cabins were completely booked. Nothing was available. However, they kindly erected a tiny tent in their front yard, gave me a blanket and pillow and said "good night". They failed to mention that monstrous brown bears often wander through their front yard each night. So there I rested, frozen in the 20 degree temperature and in great fear that at any moment I would be eaten alive by a two thousand pound Alaskan Brown Bear. Fortunately, the owners did not charge me for the use of their tent that evening.

I did not sleep that night. I crawled from my tent two hours later, cleaned myself up in the nearby ice cold stream and had two pancakes for breakfast. I met my guide a few minutes after breakfast and fished for the day on the stunning Kenai River.

Fishing in Alaska ruins you. With the exception of one day I landed about thirty trout in the 18" to 24" range each outing. Each day I also landed 3 to 4 trout in the 24" to 26" range. My largest for the six days was 28" inches. And I know that I had several fish on my line that were above 30". The vast majority of fly fishermen in the world never catch a trout above 20". Usually, for people living in the lower 48 states, fish that size are a once in a lifetime event. In Alaska, a 20" fish is common and nothing to even mention in the course of conversation. So when I fish back here in the Adirondacks and spend an entire day to catch a twelve inch trout it's a little discouraging.

A few days later a friend of mine and his son showed up. It was their first trip to Alaska and although frequent visitors to Alaska, like myself, felt the fishing was just average, they marveled at both the quantity and quality of the fish. Several of my friends from The Anglers Club of New York, of which I am a very proud member, were also in town and we had cocktails and conversation with them just about each night.

Unfortunately my usual guides were booked for the week and I had to use a different guide just about every day that I had never fished with before. Unfortunately, it was the end of their season and none of the new guides showed any enthusiasm toward their jobs. Instead of working hard they sat in their boats, smoked cigarettes and didn't work hard to find us fish. Nonetheless we had a great time in spite of the lackluster efforts of the guides. And, we will be returning to the same river next year and fishing with our regular guides!

My flight back to Bozeman, through Salt Lake City, left at one in the morning. I got to Anchorage at about ten AM and rented a motel room for the day and evening. I boarded the plane late that night and was horrified when I realized that I had a middle seat and that the flight was full. So there I sat, wide awake, for six hours as the plane bounced and shook its way back to civilization. Once in Salt Lake City I had a two hour layover and nearly missed my next flight because I was snoozing in the terminal. Fortunately, I woke at the last second.

I finally arrived back in Bozeman and was met at the airport by architect Jeff Thompson. Several people had mentioned to me that I must see a compound partially designed by Jeff and architect Larry Pearson. Unfortunately the site was five hours away from Bozeman. So with some reluctance (I had not slept in over thirty hours) I jumped into the vehicle and drove five hours due north of Bozeman. And I'm happy I did!

The ride up with Jeff was great fun, the scenery extraordinary and our conversation went on for hours. The setting was even more spectacular than I anticipated. I made photos in the afternoon, had an excellent dinner and than passed out in a great bed in a great room. In the morning I fished the stocked trout pond just a few feet from the guest home and made photographs the rest of the day. We cooked buffalo burgers on the grill that evening and returned to Bozeman early in the morning. The photos came out exceptionally well and you'll be able to see the compound in a new book of mine called A CABIN IN THE WOODS due out a year from now.

Back in Bozeman I photographed a few more homes, met with all kinds of people and fished for a few evenings in a cold spring off the Yellowstone River. It was a grand time.

On Friday afternoon I met my family (wife, daughter, sister-in-law and father-in-law) at the Bozeman airport. We spent a week together traveling to Jackson Hole, Cody, the Old Faithful Inn, Chico Hot Springs and then back to Bozeman. We had a great time traveling through Yellowstone National Park as well. Traveling with in-laws has been know to be quite stressful but my father-in-law, John, a gracious man, who had never been West seemed to greatly enjoy himself . My sister-in-law, Tina was very helpful and a great addition to the group. We had several great dinners throughout the trip and enjoyed each others company. And my seven year old daughter was thrilled to miss a week of school!

On Saturday evening (October 14) a book release party was held for me in Bozeman. A full dinner barbeque, cocktails, DJ and a band were offered! Sponsored by Architect Larry Pearson and organized by Queen Jacque Spitler I truthfully expected only a handful of people to show up. But much to my pleasure more than three hundred and fifty people attended the event! I signed and sold about 160 of my latest book THE RUSTIC HOME. The party was for the owners of the homes that appeared in that book as well as all those involved in their design and construction. There were several speeches during the evening and I was asked to say a few words to the audience. I kept my speech short and thanked everyone for their efforts to help get my books to the market.

It was a very moving event as many people expressed their gratitude to me for publicizing their efforts. Frankly, and I often try to express this, it is the architects, designers, contractors, landscape artists, masons, etc., that are the real artists. I just record what they do. And frankly, I'm thrilled just to be around these talented men and women. They are the great artists of their day and I'm just thrilled that I have the opportunity see their work and occasionally, hang out with them!

And on a further note I am very appreciative when someone thanks me for having their work in my books. A little "thank you" goes a long way. One gentleman, whose work appears in this latest book, repeatedly thanked me throughout the evening and placed a small thank-you card in my jacket pocket near the end of the evening. Later that night I opened the card and I was thrilled to find a gift certificate to the local fly fishing shop in Bozeman! In the morning, before our return flight to New York, I visited the shop and was awarded a new, hi-tech Winston Fly Rod!

But I feel the need to comment on a number of things for the moment. People don't know how to say "thank you" today. I've given hundreds of people very serious free PR in my books. They become part of history. Careers have been established and some people have made literally millions of dollars from having their work appear in my books. What is shocking to me is that many of these same people don't even bother to pick up the phone and say "thank-you". I do not "do" my books expecting significant financial rewards. I produce my books because I really do love and believe in the rustic movement in America. But a sincere "thank you" once in a while is greatly appreciated.

Some people think they deserve to be in my books or in my newsletters. They get upset with me when I can't include their efforts in my publications. Some people have said disrespectful things behind my back and have spoken unkindly of my thirty years of effort to popularize the rustic movement in America. I've done my very best to present and keep the rustic movement before the public's eye, to promote shows and generally strive to advance the rustic arts in America. Although there is great temptation to berate and criticize the actions of some I chose to take the high road at this time. I can assure some people that your time is better spent trying to improve your own abilities as both businessmen and as artists. The time and effort you spend criticizing others would be much better spent if you practiced building better furniture, improving your business skills and becoming better individuals. The burning of bridges does nothing to advance careers and only serves to build further walls in the industry. And I honestly mean this.

On the other hand, there are really wonderful people like Larry Pearson, Harry Howard, Barney Bellinger, Randy Holden, Lester Santos, Doug Tedrow, Brian Kelly, and many, many others who have gone out of their way to thank me. Their efforts are greatly appreciated and they will continue to receive my support in the years to come.

On a final note I need to find a way to say thank you to all of those who have bothered to support my efforts, read my Newsletter (which is often of questionable literary value) and purchase my furniture and books. How's this for a "thank you"?

Many stores around the country sell my books at full retail value. Amazon.com sells my larger books at about 37% off retail price. So here's the deal: The first two books below have just been released and are brand new.

THE RUSTIC HOME 2006 (retail $60) $30 plus shipping (Amazon sells it for $37)

HICKORY FURNITURE 2006 (retail $29.95) $20 plus shipping

FLY FISHING THE GREAT WESTERN RIVERS 2004 (retail $60) $20 plus shipping

ADIRONDACK HOME 2005 (RETAIL $60) $35 plus shipping

A HISTORY OF THE OLD HICKORY CHAIR COMPANY 1995/2002. Retail $20 $10 plus shipping

This sale will go on until Christmas. Please call Michele at 518 696 4100 to order books. Many thanks for supporting us here in the Adirondacks and our efforts to keep the rustic arts alive and well. My best to all of you, Ralph

PS. Regarding shows in the near future: I will be both speaking and exhibiting at THE RUSTIC SHOW for Contemporary Living to be held in Danbury, Ct. at the O'neill Center.The dates for the show will be March 31 and April 1, 2007. Please call show promoter Richard Rothbard at 800 834 9437 for info regarding either exhibiting or attending the show. At the show I will be offering exquisite pieces of furniture made by Randy Holden, Barney Bellinger and several other artists as well. I'll also be signing copies of my latest books! Many other great rustic artists will also be exhibiting there including author/builder Dan Mack as well as Tom and Bill Welsh, Barry Gregson (regarded as the greatest rustic chair builder ever! And I agree!) and many others. Accomplished artists working in the rustic medium should consider exhibiting at this show. The focus of the event is the Art world and the rustic arts. And I strongly encourage interested individual to attend! This will be a great event!

I will also be speaking and exhibiting at the Lake, Home and Cabin Show to be held at The Renaissance Schaumburg Hotel & Convention Center, Friday through Sunday, April 13-15, 2007. This is a first time appearance for this excellent show in the Chicago area. Nonetheless, Chicago is an area complete with affluent second home owners and a profound appreciation for the Rustic Arts. More and more of my own customers reside in Chicago and this show promises to be a great event. Keep in mind that there are hundred of thousands of vacation homes, cabins and lodges in both Wisconsin and Michigan and many of the owners live in Chicago! Contact Dave Greer dave@lakehomeandcabinshow.com or call (888) 471-1192. This show is also held on the following consecutive weekends in both Milwaukee and Minneapolis. Advanced rustic artists should consider exhibiting at any of these shows. I exhibited at the Minneapolis show two years ago and am still making sales from that event today!

Her name was Irene. She was called "Ikey" for short. Her initials were IK and eventually everyone called her Ikey. She was eighty four years old. A grand lady she fell silent a few years ago and to the disappointment and concern of her family slipped into dementia and the ravages of her age. She referred to me as "what's his name" and on occasion aggressively reminded me that she was Ukrainian and not Russian. Tragically, I never did acquire a taste for her boiled cabbage but she made a great ham! She passed away in the early morning of August tenth, a few weeks ago. She was my mother -in-law, my wife's mom. It was not unexpected and was, in truth, a blessing for all. She is in a much better place now.

We arrived at the airport at four thirty in the morning for a six AM flight. Michele was able to get on the early flight but my daughter and I had to take the next flight out which was only a half hour later. But we first had to fly to Washington DC and than on to Chicago. It was on that day that a terrorist plot had been uncovered in England and security was very tight in Albany. We had to leave a few bottles of stuff in the garbage can but Michele's flight took off on time. Unfortunately, my flight was an hour late taking off. The airline waitress insisted that I place my daughter's bag in an overhead compartment several rows in back of us. There was no room in the compartment directly over our heads. I was not happy but did as I was told. When we landed we had only four minutes to make our connecting flight. I had to wait until just about all of the passengers were off the plane before I could walk to the rear of the isle to retrieve our bag.

After sprinting through the airport we found the gate and boarded the plane to Chicago. It too was an hour late taking off as many passengers were delayed getting through security in many parts of the world. Once in the air I asked our waitress for a corned beef sandwich with my peanuts and complimentary beverage.

"Sir, please don't start any trouble with me today", was all the waitress said.

"Sorry" was all I could say.

In time the plane landed. Unfortunately my luggage was still in Washington and would not be delivered to Chicago until late in the evening. We made arrangements to have the bags delivered to my sister-in-laws home about an hour from the airport.

That evening we enjoyed a dinner with other family members. It was about that time that a tooth started bothering me. I had lost a filling a few months earlier. The next morning, Friday, I found a local dentistry office that had time to see me. An hour later I was sitting horizontally while two very attractive, young, female dentists examined me. They agreed that the filling could be replaced and shot me up with all kinds of numbing stuff. A few minutes later I had all kinds of instruments hanging in my mouth. Then they started with the questions. What did I do for work? Where are you from? Etc., etc. I just wanted to tell them that I could not talk with a numb jaw and five pounds of instruments hanging in my mouth. I just wanted them to do their jobs as quickly and as professionally as possible. Just leave me along please.

Then they put on the music…extra loud! In truth, I'm a serious music lover and a musician myself. But they felt the need to blast me with CHER'S Greatest Hits for two hours. Frankly, I can't stand Cher. Her song HALF BREED was written by the devil himself and my dentists played it over and over again. At this very moment I can hear the grinding of the dentists drill and the horror of Cher screaming at the top of her lungs HALF BREED reverberating in my head. And her other songs are even worse. For fear of going into cardiac arrest or a nervous breakdown at this very moment I'm going to stop writing about this for a few seconds and take a break.

Ok, I'm back. Finally the dentists finished and I paid the bill of $428. at the receptionists desk. It was at my vehicle that dizziness came over me. After resting for a few minutes I called my wife on my cell phone and asked her to pick me up. Her sister drove her over and I was transported back to her home.

That evening we attended the wake. Many people visited, paid their respects and offered condolences. Strange to say, it was a very pleasant, subdued evening. Members of the local VFW showed up and offered their support to Ikey's husband, John. A priest, in full religious garb, led the group in a traditional Ukrainian service. I did not understand a word he said or sang. After the brief service I took my daughter home early. My wife stayed at the funeral home till late in the evening.

But I need to digress for a few moments. The funeral home actually had five "halls" where different services were being held for different individuals. In the hall next to the one we occupied laid a thirty eight year old man who had committed suicide. It was a traditional Italian wake. Big tough men in black suits were ever present. Some men showed up with strap tee shirts and tattoos all over their bodies. Others showed up that looked like they had just crawled out of a garbage can. And some of the women were just as bad. Many of them smoked their filthy cigarettes in the entrance to the building and their obnoxious laughter irritated me and others I'm certain. But that's how it goes. We are not all alike and we all have different approaches to living our lives. But sometimes I just wish that people could just show a little respect for both the living and the dead.

At about ten in the evening my jaw began to hurt. I suspect that most people can appreciate tooth aches. It is not pleasant. In the bottom of my travel bag I found some pain killers left over from some injury. They were still in date! So I took one. An hour later, still in pain, I took another. And than at four in the morning I took a third! And all of this on an empty stomach. Tragically, I did not sleep that night. I had the horrible sounds of the dentists drill and the terror of Cher hollering HALF BREED roaring in my heard. I was miserable.

At eight AM I showered and dressed for the funeral which was to be held two hours later. At nine AM six of us stuffed ourselves into my rental vehicle and departed for the funeral home. Two blocks later it hit me. In my nice suit I pulled off the road, got out of the car and threw up for ten minutes on the street. A crowd of construction workers watched as I wretched out my guts on the street. Frankly, I don't think there is any worse feeling than vomiting. It is the mother of all horrors.

In time I re-entered the vehicle. Graciously, my wife drove. But I'll tell you, I just wanted to brush my teeth. I wanted the horrible taste in my mouth gone. I nearly threw up again as we followed winding roads and bounced over pot holes. It was not a good start to the day.

Once at the funeral home I immediately did my best to clean myself up. Tragically, chunks of vomit were on my tie and suit jacket and the smell of such was with me throughout the day. It was not good. Every few minutes I would catch a "whiff" of the former contents of my stomach and nearly lapse into spasms of retching.

I was asked to be a pall bearer and politely accepted. As we moved the casket to the hearse I nearly collapsed and had to steady myself on the individual next to me. We than drove a few blocks to a magnificent Ukrainian church for the actual service. Everything went well except that I was appalled that the individual mowing the outside lawn came close to the windows every few minutes and drowned out the preacher's words of wisdom with his roaring lawn mower. Then a cell phone went off in the pew directly behind me. I was disgusted to think that some jerk forgot to turn off his cell phone. But then I felt my own jacket pocket and realized that my own phone was still "on". I prayed that no one would call me at that moment. I quietly forgave the guy behind me for his failure to silence his phone.

Finally, we moved the casket to the vehicle for its trip to the cemetery. Once there, the mega jets landing at O'Hare airport drowned out the inspirational words of the preacher. And every few moments I cringed when the crowd watching a high school soccer match, just twenty yards from us, roared with delight as their teams scored or nearly scored a goal. At the appropriate time the pall bearers placed our gloves on the coffin and said our final good-byes. I cringed to think that each pair of gloves cost thirty five dollars and would be used only once. I also realized that the white gloves could be purchased at any Wal-mart for a few bucks each. Finally, we returned to our vehicles and drove to a nearby restaurant for an afternoon reception and lunch. Throughout the day I did my best to appear "normal" (which, for me, is not easy!) I didn't complain once! My wife knew how sick I was and was very proud of me!

But on that day I realized again, that when a bottle of prescription medicine says to take only one pill and with plenty of food and water, I swear on my life that in the future I will do so with absolute vigilance.

My band, the Ralph Kylloe Band, is back in business. After a disappointing slow start to the summer season we have regrouped. And after many needed hours of practice and rehearsals we played our first gig in a long time on August 5.

The Wild West Ranch is a fun place owned by the Karate Kid Ralph Machio. Located about ten minutes from my home in Lake George, NY, we've played there several times during the past few years. We always draw a great crowd and late in the evening the mother of the owner gets up and sings a great version of Crazy by Patsy Kline. It's a fun time for everyone.

And so we invited about thirty of our friends and were thrilled when people started showing up early for dinner and drinks. We even had a guest singer, Steve Staples, come with us to belt out a few tunes and sing harmony with our lead singer Jill Gautie. We opened the first set with an old standard titled Moon Dance. We were in fine form and never sounded better.

By the middle of the first set the entire audience was gone. We all looked at each other and just decided to play. We had contracted to do a three hour show and that's what we were going to do. During the second set a few other people showed up. After a few songs they left as well. At the break the last remaining couple came to us told us how disappointed they were. They were told we were a hard core country band. After complaining to the manager they also left.

And so we played on and on. We really did sound great. I took a few solos on my bass guitar, the two guitar players sent out extraordinary "licks", our singer was into it and our drummer kept perfect time. Unfortunately, no one was there to hear us. But that's how it goes sometime. No matter what, you do the best you can. The show must go on. At the end of the evening the bar tender, the only one left in the building besides the band, told us that the rodeo was in town and they had a famous band playing there. There were also two other great bands in town. But that's how it goes sometimes. We have a few more gigs lined up for the fall and we'll practice whenever we can. We love our music and it's what we do. Its great to have recognition and it's a thrill to have a huge audience up and dancing…but we play music because we love it and the personal satisfactions of competently playing an instrument and having a band far outweighs any external rewards offered. (Nonetheless, as ideological as I am it would be great to at least have an audience once in a while!)

It's now two weeks later. A new client of mine saw my guitars behind my desk about three weeks ago and mentioned that he was getting married within the month. He asked about my band. I gave him our demo CD. He left my gallery a few minutes later. An hour went by. My phone rang. It was my client. He insisted that my band play at his wedding. He said that he just fired his band and insisted that we play. I said no. We had not had much luck in the music business lately and I was reluctant to accommodate him. In truth, we are not a wedding band. We don't play the Hokey-Pokey or Ha'vanaglia (sp?) He called me back three times and over the next few days and insisted that we play. Our drummer was not available and I looked for other excuses to not play. But he had heard our music and loved it. So we agreed. Friday night we rehearsed with a different drummer and Saturday night we drove to the gig! I am usually not nervous when it comes to music. I know what I'm doing. But on this night I was scared to death.

The Point in Saranac Lake, NY, is the most expensive "Camp" in America. There are only six bedrooms and a boathouse. The smallest room is $1,500 per night. Our client rented the entire facility for three nights. There were only thirty three guests.

And so we set up in the great hall at the Point (not really that big but really extraordinary!) and played quiet tunes for the first hour and a half during cocktails. After each song several people came up to us and complimented the band! There was than a two hour break for a seven course dinner (the band ate in the kitchen!). We started the second set with a series of fast dance tunes. From the first lick of the guitar the entire place went wild. Everyone danced for nearly two straight hours. It was great fun to see senior citizens and kids dancing all over the place. We knew every one of the requested songs and the audience sang along on just about every tune. Frankly, I loved every second of it! It really was a great evening!

Music is a funny business. You have to find the right venue for a band. We were the right fit for this wedding and we hope to play more such venues in the future. So if anyone needs an aging Rock & Roll band let me know! There may be hope for us yet! Rock on!

FISHING TRIP

There are about nine of us going back to Alaska for some extraordinary fly fishing this September. We have room for a few more. Here's the deal. You fly into Anchorage. You rent a car and drive two and a half hours south to the town of Cooper Landing, Alaska. You rent a cabin at Gwins Lodge. There are four people in a boat. Each person pays $250 per day. All gear is provided. Bring your own waders. Meals are served at the restaurant in Gwins Lodge. You can order what ever you want but you pay for your own meals. Fishing is at least eight hours a day. You'll catch about fifty trout a day. Most will be in the 16 to 24 inch range. You'll also land a few 24-28 inch rainbows. And each day you'll hook up with a few 30 plus inch Rainbow trout that will battle like you can't believe. You can also land as many silver salmon as you want but we mostly fish for trout. It's strictly catch and release. It will be 50 Degrees in the daytime and it may snow. It may also be sunny and hot. It will be peak foliage and there will be bears around. The tourists will be gone as will the bugs. The scenery is out of this world! Fishing licenses and a few other things are extra. I personally guarantee that you will never have a finer fishing trip. It's affordable and you will not be forced to be with others if you choose. For more info call me at 518 696 4100. The dates are September 24 to October 2. You can fish as much as you like or go sight-seeing.

My latest books are on the market! The RUSTIC HOME book is extraordinary! It's my best effort yet! I just spent the past hour looking at an advanced copy. It contains about 300 color photos and shows the greatest rustic homes in the country! I also have spent the past few hours reviewing another new book of mine titled HICKORY FURNITURE. The text for this book was culled from my book A HISTORY OF THE OLD HICKORY CHAIR COMPANY. The new book includes many historical images from early hickory furniture catalogues as well as 125 color photos of historical and contemporary hickory furniture. It is an absolute must for anyone interested in the historical aspects of hickory furniture.

As a treat to my readers and customers I am offering both books (autographed by me!) at discounted prices. The big book, RUSTIC HOME, sells retail for $60. I'll sell the first fifty books to those who read my Newsletter for $42 plus $12 shipping. The HICKORY FURNITURE book sells for $30 retail. I'll offer the first fifty copies for $22 plus $9 for shipping. Please call either my wife Michele (518 696 4100) or email me with a charge card # and address.

There are a few new shows that interested readers may like to attend. The finest and most professional rustic show I have ever exhibited at is the Lake, Home and Cabin Show. There are three sites for this show this year: Minneapolis, Milwaukee and Chicago. I will be exhibiting at the Chicago show which will occur on April 13-15, 2007. Along with exhibiting my furniture I will also be appearing on Chicago land TV to promote the show and presenting a talk and slide show four times at the show. Frankly, I love these shows for many reasons. First, and most important, its new territory. I must admit that the East Coast is a bit overrun with rustic auctions, exhibits, and shows. Frankly, there is a limited market here in the east. And people who are interested in rustic furniture here in the east know how to find me. I exhibited at the Minneapolis show two years ago and had more sales than at any other show I had done in the past five years. Keep in mind that Minnesota, Wisconsin and Michigan have ten times the lakes and rustic cabins then we do here in the Adirondacks. And they have not been exposed to high-end merchandise. There are buyers out there just waiting for the right stuff to come along! For those of you interested in selling your high-end products please consider exhibiting at these shows. Contact Dave Greer at the following email address: dave@lakehomeandcabinshow.com . For those of you living in the Midwest a trip to the show will be well worth the effort. You'll see some really great things there. More on the Chicago, Minneapolis and Milwaukee shows as the season's progress.

At the same time another show is presently being organized here in the east. Richard Rothbard, gallery owner and experienced show promoter, is presently organizing a rustic arts fair that should be a winner. Well known author and furniture builder Dan Mack will be involved with the show and I have been invited to be associated with the event as well. As of this morning I have agreed to exhibit furniture at the show, autograph books for interested customers and present a slideshow of great homes from around the country during the exhibition! It looks like the shows will be in the spring and summer of 2007. After a several conversations with Richard I'm convinced that he has the vision and experience to create a really great rustic arts festival. More on this later.

Keep in mind that the Adirondack Mountains Antique Show will be held in the town of Indian Lake, NY. The show will be on Saturday, September 16. An early buyer's preview will be Friday, September 15, from 2-6PM. This is an important show in the world of rustic antiques. There will probably be a hundred or so dealers there offering everything from antique boats, snowshoes, taxidermy, all kinds of Adirondack memorabilia as well as rustic furniture of all sorts. There will also be many other individuals set up in the town offering further examples of furniture and accessories. I will be exhibiting furniture at this show and will be selling my books as well. Call 518 861 5478 for more information.

The following week the Western Design Conference occurs in Cody, Wyoming. The dates are September 20-23. This is a very high end show that offers museum quality items from the best in the West (and a few east coast artists as well!) There is also an exceptional educational component along with the exhibits. Along with other knowledgeable speakers presenting information of numerous subjects I will be speaking at the show on the subject of Hickory Furniture, Wednesday morning. I will also be one of the judges for the exhibition. The show is a great event and, in you're so inclined, should not be missed by those interested in rustic design.

Recently an article appeared in a publication titled ADIRONDACK LIVING MAGAZINE. The date was August 2006. The magazine was handed out free at the Adirondack Living Show here in Lake George, New York. Mr. Jeff Fraser is the show promoter and the publisher of the magazine. The article was written by David Quickenton. The article contains the sentence "So here is your chance to visit and speak to each one of us, not some third party retail store or sleazy gallery trying to get their 200% mark up."

I do not exhibit at that show. I did at one time but no longer. It is not in my interest. It is, however quite tragic that Quickenton, who is listed as "editor" of the magazine, fails to accurately depict either my own or the other fine galleries here in the Adirondacks. In truth, after quickly speaking with other gallery owners, I can find no one who marks up their merchandise 200%. The writer of this article should have done his homework before making such an unprofessional statement. In my own gallery I sell hickory furniture at 40% off the suggested retail price. I offer rustic furniture made by the best people in the business at between 20% and 40% over what I paid for it. I have also failed to hear of any "sleazy gallery" here in the Adirondacks. It is sad that Frazer allowed such salacious, unprofessional and dishonest words to appear in his publication. Such statements only serve to cheapen his efforts, create unforgiving resentment and draw serious lines of animosity within the rustic design community. I sincerely hope that in the future Fraser chooses to take the "high road" in his attempts to draw clients to his venues or influence the decision making of the many people in the area who purchase items for their homes. We in the industry can compete against one another, which keeps industry standards high, but also must respect the duty to do so in a manner not to cheapen the approach to the customer.

At the same time I am a second party retail store and gallery owner. I did have a few people call me and mention that Fraser was directly attacking me for failing to exhibit at his show or otherwise be associated with him in other business ventures. I assured my friends that Fraser is not that foolish as to slander someone or make libelous statements in print. He could easily be held liable for making false factual statements and my attorneys would have had a field day with him. However, I am certain that all this is a complete misunderstanding and/or a momentary error on his part. I mention this because the last time I did his show Fraser gave an impassioned speech in front of about fifty or so other exhibitors at the Saturday evening exhibitor's party. In his speech he personally praised me for my thirty year contribution to the field, bringing the field of the rustic arts to the forefront, my best-selling seventeen books, my patronage and support to many rustic artists and the quality of merchandise I offer. At the conclusion of his ten minute speech the audience gave him (and me) a sincere and well earned round of applause!

Nonetheless, Fraser should completely disassociate himself from Quickenton and print an apology to the many fine gallery owners who have spent their lives supporting and popularizing the rustic arts. It would be the right thing to do.

During the past few days I have been visited by Mr. David Harrison and his son. David is a rustic furniture builder in Israel and I have corresponded with him on many occasions over the past few years. It was quite thrilling to hear of his life in Israel and the problems they are presently having. David was quite taken with the furniture in my gallery and was thrilled when we visited the workshops of Barney Bellinger, Brian Kelly, Peter Winter, Chris Wager and Tom and Bill Welsh. In truth, we here in America are blessed with an over abundance of great raw materials, something sincerely lacking in the Mid East. David was very pleased to learn a few new techniques from some of our builders and we wish him well in his continuing rustic furniture efforts in his country.

We spent this past Saturday afternoon and night as guests of the owners at one of the historical Great Camps here in the Adirondacks. The building, nestled on the shores of a great lake and hidden in a grove of massive hemlocks, was completed around 1901. In the evening we cruised the lake in a gorgeous 1930s mahogany boat and marveled at the other historical camps. We drank fine wine throughout the evening and had smoked duck for dinner. Two of the other guests were a couple from Russia. It was fascinating to hear of their country and their appreciation of all things American. The family is now living in America. I took a special liking to his four year old son who spoke no English. He was like a sponge and learned many new words (as did I) throughout the evening. My family and I woke in the morning to the calling of loons and the "lapping" of soft waves on the shoe. The drive home was quite charming as we stopped at all the fruit stands and "pull-offs" along the scenic highway.

And so now it's fall here in the Adirondacks. The maple tree across the road from my gallery is already a brilliant orange and for the past few days flocks of Canadian Geese have circled overhead preparing for their long journey to warmer lands. This morning clouds of steam hung low over the lake as I swam in clear but chilly waters. The honking of geese echoed across the lake and at that very moment I wished I could understand their language. A raccoon tried to gain access to my cabin late last night and succeeded in ripping a screen off a window and scaring my cats. I think the last remnants of my wife's pasta dinner with extra garlic enticed him to scale the logs of my rustic cabin. There are less tourists here now than there were a few weeks ago and I can find a parking place in front of the town post office now when I collect my mail. The highway near my home is now filled with campers and cars towing boats. They are heading south. I hope they enjoyed their summer in the Adirondacks. I know I did. My best to you, Ralph.

The alarm went off at 2:45 AM. A half hour later I was driving down the road to the airport. In time I parked my vehicle at the Park and Fly lot and was then driven the last few miles to the terminal in a bus. I checked in and stood in line to go through the security check. It was just about 5AM. In front of me was a young man pushing a baby stroller. I could tell that he was not a frequent traveler as he struggled with his tickets, directions from the security personal and his proper photo ID's. At the security check point he was politely told to place his "carry-on's" on the scanning belt that would bring the items into the x-ray machine.

"You need to run the baby stroller through the scanner as well, sir", said the guard. The man dismantled the stroller and placed the large section on the belt. After a few moments he placed the actual baby cradle on the conveyor belt and than turned to enter the "walk-through" scanner. A few seconds later an alarm sounded and screams were heard. The man in front of me did not realize that he had to take the baby out of the carriage before it went through the scanning machine. The infant was nearly inside the x-ray machine before a guard shut down the equipment and retrieved the child.

Just another strange incident in an airport, I thought to myself.

I received my seat assignment at the gate. I always request isle seats as occasionally I like to get up and stretch my legs. Unfortunately the only seats available were middle seats. I accepted my fate saying that the flight was only a few hours long and would be over before I knew it. The overhead bins were full so I placed my large camera case under the seat in front of me. I then folded up the small wheeled cart and stuffed it in the overhead bin. I then took my seat. A few moments later two fat (and I do mean fat) people took the seats on either side of me.

As we neared take-off time an attendant attempted, unsuccessfully, to close the overhead bin.

"Whose cart is this?" she asked.
"Mine", I said politely as I gasped for breath while being suffocated by the two fat people.
"Sir, you'll have to immediately place the item directly under your front seat".
"Ma'am, there's no more room".
"Sir, it could fall from the bin and seriously injure someone. Please store the item under your seat now".
From the look on the woman I could things were going down hill fast.
"Lady, maybe you could ask one of the other people to place their bags under their seats. The other bags take up all of the room and should have been checked at the counter."
"Sir, either place the item under your seat or you'll have to leave the plane."
I just sat there for a moment. The attendant walked away and returned with a big guy whom I could only assume was an official of some sort.
"What seems to be the problem here sir?", he asked.
"Well, in truth, the waitress here wants me to remove my cart from the bin. And there is just no more room under my seat."
With that the attendant screamed "I am not a waitress. I am a trained, professional flight attendant". The other passengers went dead silent. Sometimes I really hate people. The big guy realized I had no more room and that the waitress was less than accommodating. Everyone knew that she had lost control and made a fool of herself. The male attendant took the cart and said "I'll store this in the front cabin for you, sir. You can pick it up when we land."
"Thank you" was all I said.

And so for the next two hours I sat crushed between two obese people who spilled over onto my seat from both sides. My knees were up to my chin. My back ached. I dared not fight for a position on the arm rests as both were covered with the flesh of my neighbors. I declined the offer of a bag of pretzels and drink half way through the flight. It was nearly a disaster when the fat person sitting by the window wanted to get up to use the rest room. The guy by the isle had to get up, I had to detach myself from my seat, remove my camera bag and stand helplessly while the fat lady crawled over the seats. To make matters easier I stood in the isle until the lady returned to her seat. The waitress who hated me had to cross in front of me twice while I was standing. We did not exchange eye contact but were fully aware of the presence of each other. At that moment I wished I was rich enough to own my own plane.

The flight landed, I was politely handed my cart at the front door and finally found my way to my connecting flight. The rest of the trip was easy.

Bozeman, Montana was hot. I mean really hot. It was about 95 degrees and the sun was bright. I was in town to make photos of several small cabins for a new book that will be on the market next fall. The homes I photographed were extraordinary. In truth, the architects, builders and designers who work in the central Montana region are significantly ahead of their counterparts here in the Adirondacks. I know some people will find this upsetting but their use of recycled materials, masonry and their designs are quite extraordinary. We here in the Adirondacks have failed, in my opinion, to evolve with the times. Sadly, we here in the Adirondacks have not "pushed the envelope" when it comes to creating stunning homes.

I visited and photographed several smaller homes on this trip. One home actually brought tears to my eyes. Created by the extraordinarily talented people at Yellowstone Traditions the home was a combination of "re-stacks". Old Montana hand-hewned log cabins had been found in the area and one by one four small, historical cabins were "married" together to create the perfect cabin. A dramatic fire tower was also added to the building that allowed the owners highly dramatic views of the Yellowstone River. It was, for my taste, the perfect home. You'll see it in my book THE SMALL CABIN, due out in the fall of 2007.

On another note, there was something that occurred out there that no doubt created some significant anxiety and, probably "burned some of my bridges" in the design community of Montana. I met an architect who had mentioned that he had designed an extraordinary town in the middle of nowhere. I was told by several people I know and respect that the place was extraordinary. After many phone calls we were given permission to photograph the place. I met the architect in the morning and we enjoyed a comfortable conversation during the two hour drive to the town.

The complex, located on twenty thousand acres of private property, had been designed and built to replicate an old western, Montana town. The twenty buildings were made of old recycled materials and were, in truth, just stunning. But than the truth came out. It was a town owned by the Philip Morris Tobacco Company. To thank users of their products the company awarded free trips to the town to winners of contests held around the country. All expenses paid. As the tobacco companies are not allowed to publicly advertise their products they bring people out to the "town" to promote their products.

Ash trays were on every table. Other products and souvenirs were visible throughout the complex.

Frankly, I viewed the town as a Nazi cigarette death camp. The entire place sickened me. I see those who both manufacture and sell tobacco products as on the same level with those who sell heroin or crack cocaine. They thrive on addicting people to their deadly products. They, like those who sell heroin, actually kill people with the products they offer. The entire atmosphere and setting of the town was disgusting.

I took a tour of the town, made a few photos and then sat down with the architect to share my thoughts. Frankly, I could have made some decent money by photographing the setting. The photos would have been a great addition to any of my books. And the money would have helped cover my costs for the trip. But I looked the architect right in the eye and told him how disgusted I was. I packed my gear and left. The architect understood my position as we spoke on the ride home.

In truth, someone has to say something. What kind of person would I be if I kept my mouth shut? What kind of person would I be if blindly supported this stuff. Someone has to have some principles to stand on. I see the tobacco people as murders of human beings. It disgusts me beyond belief. How our society tolerates tobacco is beyond me. And, to add insult to injury, the owners of the tobacco companies laugh all the way to the bank. It's a sick world we live in.

A few hours later, once back in Bozeman, I stopped at a deli for a sandwich and beverage. Frankly, I couldn't at all understand the items on the menu. I just wanted a simple sandwich.

"What kind of bread would you like , sir?", asked the waitress. "You can have campaillou, brioche, focaacia, chullah, ciabatta, or blomer."

"I just want a bologna sandwich on wonder bread", was all I could think to say. In truth, I'm really just a simple guy and had no knowledge whatsoever regarding the types of bread they offered.

"I'm sorry sir, we don't have bologna here."

"How about a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on white bread, then?" I asked.

"I'm sorry sir, but we don't offer that".

I left the store and found a Chinese buffet down the road that offered "all you can eat" for $6.95. I made a pig out of myself and had a chocolate chip cook and ice cream for desert. A simple dinner for a simple guy I thought. Besides, chicken with broccoli was healthier than a bologna sandwich with extra mayonnaise. My fellow graduates from Harvard University would have been proud of me!

That evening I wandered down to the Gallatin River just outside of Big Sky, Montana. It was about 7PM. I quickly dressed in my waders and assembled my fly fishing gear. In time I made my way to the rivers edge and delighted in successfully hooking, landing and releasing a gorgeous 2o" rainbow trout on my first cast!

It had been a wet week in the area and the water was roaring by. I found a place to cross the river and carefully wandered out into the class 2-3 rapids as I made my way downstream. The water quickly came up to my waist and pushed hard on me as the strong currents forced me to reconsider my situation. Moments later I was completely underwater. I had stepped into a hole and was being sucked rapidly downstream. I released my grip on my fly rod and struggled to the surface. I called for help. No one heard me. Rapids are easy to maneuver when you are wearing a life vest. I had none. The rapids bounced me off a few large stones and continued to pull me both downstream and under the water. I hadn't been that frightened since I was charged by a grizzly bear in Alaska. Moments later I was again under the water.

Finally and fortunately, the currents slowed and I found myself on firm ground. I fought my way to the opposite shore of the river and stood shaking for several minutes. My body ached from being bounced off boulders in the strong currents. During the event, I also lost my prescription sunglasses and had ruined my new cell phone as well. The entire experience lasted probably only thirty seconds. But it was enough to scare me. I wandered downstream for maybe a half mile before I again crossed the river. Once I calmed down I looked for my fly rod. It was a new Sage XP with a Ross reel. It was nowhere to be found. The rod and reel cost about a thousand dollars. And I spent the rest of the evening looking for it. I returned to the site the following morning and asked at two local shops if anyone had turned in a fly rod. No luck. I did, however, leave my name and phone numbers at the shops in hopes that if someone did find my gear they would turn it in. In desperation I purchased a life preserver, mask and fins from the local Wal-Mart. My intentions were to swim the river underwater and find my fly rod. But the water was still high and I wisely gave up the idea.

The following day I called my wife in New York and she mentioned that my fly rod and reel were found and gave me a number to call. I immediately dialed the number and was thrilled to know that a fisherman in West Yellowstone did have my gear! He had found it more than a mile from the site where I had lost it. I drove to his home and was elated when my rod and reel was handed to me. I offered the finder a cash reward and then offered tobuy the couple dinner. They declined both.

And so I wonder….how many people in the world would have returned the rod and reel if they had found it? If I had found it…. would I have returned it? It's a great rod and reel……the best in the business. As I thought about the question I hear conflicting comments in my head. "Finders keepers, losers weepers", is an old kids saying. Confucius said, twenty five hundred years ago, "treat others like you would like to be treated". I asked a few other fly fishermen what they would have done and both commented that the fish gods would not look kindly upon anyone who kept the rod and did not make an effort to find the original owner. I also thought about my parents and what advice they would have given me.

In truth, I did not need an answer or advice from others. I did not need someone or some god or some commandments or some guy in robes telling me what to do. I would have made every effort to return it to the owner. Somewhere in my mind I know the difference between right and wrong. It's not that hard to figure out. It's good to know that others feel the same way. My compliments to the guy who found my gear and many thanks for returning it.

I fished just about everyday I was in Montana. I fished each evening and on two complete days as well. One day I hired a guide to fish with me on the upper section of the Madison River. I landed at least thirty trout in the 16" - 22" range. The next day I fished the same section of the river by myself and succeeded in landing only two fish. Another day I fished a spring creek off the Yellowstone River and successfully landed more than 50 trout. All in the 16"-22" range. It was probably my best day of fishing in Montana. Spring creeks are funny places. The water surges up from the ground and is clear as the Montana air. The steams are only ten to twenty yards across. Wildlife is everywhere and deer and elk often wander just a few yards from you. It is a magical place. On several occasions muskrats swam between my legs and I nearly had a heart attack when a full grown beaver swam underwater, completely unaware of my presence, just a few feet from me.

Storms are ever-present in the Rockies. One evening, while standing waist deep in a creek off the Yellowstone, the skies darkened quickly. Bolts of lightening suddenly slammed the landscape very near me. So here I was in open water with a lightening rod of a nine foot fishing pole with a metal tip pointing toward the heavens in my hands. I made my way to the shore and took refuge under some thick bushes. The wind picked up violently within moments. Seconds later I was being pelted with golf ball size hail stones. With my hands over my head and squatting on a muddy bank under shrubs, every other word from my mouth was "ow", "ouch" or grunts and groans. Then the loudest crack I ever heard was accompanied by the brightest light I had ever seen. Almost pale blue the lightening bolt struck a huge cottonwood tree just a few feet from me. I heard the tree begin to crumble and watched in horror as it was falling directly toward me. Without thought I ran from my hiding place in time to avoid the fall of an old growth cottonwood.

A half hour later the skies were clear and I returned to the river. That night I land and released at least a dozen Brown Trout in the twenty inch range. The entire day was magical.

I spent the night soaking in the outdoor hot pools at Chico Hot Spring Lodge just north of Yellowstone National Park. The stars twinkled and an occasional fiery meteor, that had seen places I never would, streaked through the dark sky. I chuckled to myself as I realized that everything in my body, all the elements that are me, were made in the fiery caldrons of stars. In the vastness of space gravity calls together interstellar particles and gasses and swirls them together like a gigantic whirlpool. The weight of hydrogen is eventually transformed into helium and electromagnetic radiation. The stars turn on! In the nuclear furnace of the stars elements of all sorts are created. After a few billion years the fuel that drives the star is spent. The life of stars, like all live everywhere, nears its end. The star first expands and than shrinks to a tiny dot called a singularity. Some of the stars explode and spew their magical elements across the vastness of the universe. With enormous luck the elements of space and stars came together and, bingo, here I am! Quite remarkable, if you think about it!

I'm now back in Lake George, NY. I've had visitors from North Carolina here for a few days. They brought up a large set of antique Old Hickory chairs which I will recondition and offer to the public. Tonight, I'll be speaking and showing slides before a group of academics from Princeton University. This evening an architect from Michigan will visit us and attend my presentation with me. Tomorrow afternoon he and I will meet with a client about a new home on Lake George. Early next week I have a friend and his son visiting for a few days. The pair builds rustic furniture in their home country of Israel and are excited about visiting my gallery to see examples of the great rustic furniture we offer here. Saturday night I have band practice (yahoo!). We have regrouped plan on working diligently until our sound is right!

A few weeks from now I have to drive to Indiana to pick up a load of Amish rockers. The rockers built by this mid western family are larger, stronger and more comfortable than the rockers constructed by the Amish in my area. Unfortunately, I have to drive for some thirty hours (round trip) to pick up the furniture. But…the quality of their products is worth every mile on the road.

I just spent the past half hour eating my lunch in front to the TV. I watched an episode of the Contender. It's a saga about boxers competing for big prizes. I took special interest in the prayers of the spouses and the fighters before they entered the ring to do battle with their opponents. They prayed for the power to smash the skulls of their opponents. The wife's prayed on their rosaries to the Virgin Mary that their husbands would inflict great pain and injury those their husbands were fighting. They asked God for the strength to help their husband's pound the shit out of the other fighter.

Somehow I think that they missed the entire meaning of religion. Somehow I just don't think Jesus or Mary would encourage this sort of thing. I am not sure they would want to give power to someone so that that individual could brutally pound someone else senseless. But what do I know? I'm just a misguided, pathetic figure (or so I've been called) who thinks religion is a bizarre human ritual that has caused more neuroses, harm and destruction than any other human endeavor.

On another, lighter note, we are very near an agreement with a major TV station to offer my series RUSTIC LIVING WITH RALPH KYLLOE. Its shocking to me at how complicated this has become. Everyone wants an influence in the series and everyone wants a piece of the action. But, I'll tell you…I've lined up the greatest rustic homes in the world and I can't wait to put them in front of interested viewers! I hope everyone who sees the program will be impressed.

And so it goes. It's nearing 3PM here at my gallery and my wife and daughter are at our camp weathering out a violent thunderstorm that came up within the past hour. Our camp has come to be very important to us. I'm incredibly lucky to own the place. It's gone up in value four times from what we originally paid for it and I could never afford to replace it if I had to purchase it again in today's market. We are one of thirty two families who own twelve acres of Lake George lake front. Our beach is over a thousand feet long and one can wander into the clear waters of the lake more then fifty yards of sandy bottom before it gets over my head. It's a great place for my daughter as she now has several friends who also live in the complex. Each of us have a deep water dock for our boats and in the evening we often visit neighbors for a chat and a cocktail. It's a wonderful place and I personally thank John Lefner for calling me early one Sunday morning years ago and insisting that we see the place. Once there I purchased the home on the spot! It was the best deal I ever made!

I've spoken with several visitors to my gallery and made a few sales today. I responded to about ten phone calls this morning and took orders for a few books on the internet. One of my sources just drove in my parking lot with a fresh load of birch bark that we'll use on our furniture over the next year or so. I also just placed an order with him for a high-end bureau and mirror. Hopefully, he'll have it completed in time for the fall. So far, it's been a hot, yet wet summer here in the Adirondacks. The grass is still a rich green and the leaves on the hardwood trees by my home glows after each rain. I lead a blessed life. I have more adventures that I ever thought possible. I see beautiful things and spend time with extraordinary people. Creativity and effort brings fullness to ones life. Peace in ones life does not come from passivity. It is no easy task to achieve. It is no easy task to better oneself.

My one wish is that I could tell my parents about my life. I hope they would be proud.

Sorry about rambling on about all this stuff. It's just how I feel today. Life is good.

Ralph

It's now Sunday, June 11. For the past ten days the bucolic town of Lake George, NY, my town, has been the scene of Americade. Fifty thousand motorcycles and about a hundred thousand people invade the area and roar up and down the streets all day and night in an attempt to both demonstrate and prove their masculinity to themselves and anybody who will take notice. And in my book they all fail. I have no doubt that they all feel "very cool" on their motorcycles and in their leather outfits and tattoos and earrings. But to me it's no big deal. To me it's just a lot of noise and weak attempts at masculinity. But I don't say that kind of stuff to their faces. I'm not that stupid. Frankly, most of the bikers scare me. But maybe I've just seen too many movies and TV programs. In truth, however, most of the bikers here in town are old guys. Many that I've spoken with are lawyers, accountants, dentists or traditional sociopaths. But they have their own lives and far be it from me to berate them for their life styles.

Frankly, however, I will never understand why motorcycles can get away with the noise they make. Autos are required by law to have mufflers. So should motorcycles, motorboats, chain saws, lawn mowers and a dozen other machines. How they can be allowed to roar all over the place at all hours of the day and night is beyond me. They must have some serious "clout" somewhere.

Lots have happened here at the Kylloe Homestead. Our summer season is now in full swing and it is nice to have a constant and ongoing visitation of customers walking through my gallery doors. It actually gets lonely here in the winter and new faces are always a pleasure. It always surprises me when people walk up to me and act like were best friends. I am fully aware that I'm getting older and my memory is not what it was (or at least should have been). Nonetheless, I'm polite to everyone and converse with all kinds of people on all kinds of subjects here in my gallery.

I must confess something however. And keep in mind that I'm only human and have put my foot in my mouth on many occasions. This is one that I greatly regret however. Consider this and give it some thought.

It was a bad day. It was also the dead of winter and cold outside. Several people owed me money and came up with every excuse in the world for their late payments. My builders were late delivering furniture to me and I had to call customers with the bad news that their furniture would not be on time. It was just a bad day.

Late in the afternoon an older woman came in. With her was her twelve year old grandson. They wandered around the gallery for quite a while and I could hear the grandmother comment on construction techniques, the types of wood we used and different styles and designs. I could also hear the occasional click of a camera. I asked the lady if I could help her and she commented that she wanted her grandson to start making rustic furniture. She had brought him to my gallery see how we built things and wanted him to make copies of our work. The boy, she said, had shown interest in rustic furniture and she wanted him to have a career as a furniture builder.

Under normal circumstances, depending if I like the person or not, I'm usually helpful. If someone comes in my gallery and introduces themselves to me and clearly states their intentions I'm often very helpful. Some people I get along with immediately and others I just can't stand. There has to be some chemistry there for relationships to work. And, with saying this, I am no different than anyone else in the world. I tell people, however, that they should not copy the works of others and that if they want to be a success in anything than they must strive for originality and uniqueness in all of their efforts. It's OK to be influenced by others, I say, but they should find their own "voice". On many occasions, however, I've asked people to leave my gallery once it became obvious that they were there to just copy the works of the people who build furniture for me. It is never pleasant to have to deal with such people. It rattles my nerves.

But on this particular day, with everything going wrong, I lost my patience. I stated very clearly that I did not appreciate the making of photographs in my gallery without my permission. I also said that I was shocked that she wanted the kid to make copies of the works of others. And after my thirty second speech I asked them to leave. The grandmother gave me a horrible look as she walked out the door. The boy just walked out with his eyes pointed to the floor. Good riddance I thought.

But as the evening wore on my thoughts were on the twelve year old boy. He really did need a mentor. I wondered if he had a father. I wondered if he was doing Ok in school. I wondered if he had friends. I thought about my own childhood. Growing up with divorced parents who hated each other was significantly less than ideal. I would not wish that on any one. The kid who was in my shop that morning probably needed some encouragement and who in the living hell was I to throw the kid out of my gallery. What kind of a jerk was I to not spend a few minutes with him? To this day I am ashamed of myself.

But that's life. I (we) don't always do the right thing. I can't change what I did or did not do. I vowed, however, to not allow outside things to affect me as much as they do. I should not have allowed my problems on that day to interfere with my dealings the grandmother and the kid. To this day I wish the kid would come visit me again. I'd be more helpful and spend time with him. I'd offer him suggestions on how to get going in the furniture building business. I'd be nice to him. A little encouragement goes a long way. Kids (and adults) don't need some neurotic jerk that has no control over himself berating them.

It's been a few years since the incident. I hope the kid was not devastated or discouraged by my selfishness and unkindness. I have not seen the kid or his grandmother again. I'm certain they think I'm an asshole. And on that day I probably was. But I can only learn from my mistakes. That's how it should be.

BOOKS

After a flurry of last second activities I finally have two new books on their way to the printers. The HICKORY FURNITURE BOOK will be out in August and THE RUSTIC HOME will be out at the end of October. I am extremely proud of both these books as both took an enormous amount of effort to complete. I am now diligently working on two new books. THE RUSTIC FIREPLACE should be on the market a year from now. And THE SMALL CABIN will be out in the fall of 2007.

I'll be in Montana for two weeks beginning July 5 photographing several stunning smaller cabins. On July 8 I'll be attending a "big-time" reception at the Museum of the Rockies in Bozeman, Montana. About ten of us (all contributors to the museum) from the office of architect Larry Pearson including Larry, Jacque, Katie, Keith, Dennis, Boone as well as other associates of the office will attend the afternoon reception. There will be a few hundred people at the party and I look forward to the event!

While out there I'll photograph a few great homes at the Yellowstone Club as well as a great ranch near Casper that is the site of more than twenty great buildings. And I'll try, if time permits, to make photos of a few homes up near Glacier National Park. I just hope that I don't get chased around by any of the many grizzly bears that inhabit that area. I'm certain that I'll bring my fly fishing gear along and I look forward to casting a few flies in the direction of some hungry trout that inhabit the gorgeous rivers out there as well.

I'll be back in the West in mid September. The National Museum of Wildlife Art, Jackson, Wyoming, holds an extraordinary show September 14 -17. A few of the select furniture builders in the country including Jimmy Covert and Barney Bellinger, as well as many nationally known wildlife artists exhibit their work at the museum. I look forward to the event. The following week (September 20-22) is the Western Design Conference in Cody, Wyoming. I will be speaking there with Old Hickory VP Bob Morrison about the influence of hickory furniture on the West. I've spoken at that conference fourteen times and it's my favorite thing to do in the fall. If you get a chance be certain to come out. It's a beautiful time of the year out there and the conference is a great place to see some of the fine art from both the East and West!

The Adirondack Mountains Antiques Show is also in the fall. The show is held annually in Indian Lake, NY. The date of the show is September 16. A few hundred antiques dealers offer everything related to the Adirondacks and Rustic Living. It's a great place to find all sorts of furniture and rustic accessories for your camp! I'll be exhibiting there and will have copies of my books for sale!

But I'll tell you…the entire book thing scares me right now. Regarding my trip to Bozeman, Montana: just the plane ticket from Albany, NY to Bozeman, Mt., costs more than $900. Car rental is about $700 and on and on. Most writers of coffee table books just get architects and decorators to send them photos of their projects. Frankly, I love making my own photos and I'm just stubborn (maybe stupid) enough to travel and make my own pictures. This is not a good thing in terms of business. That's probably why I'm not rich. But In my heart I love my photos. They are perfectly conceived still-life's. They are well balanced with great depth and movement. They are complete objects of art in themselves. And the thought of someone else's photos in my books is sickening to me. And so I'll grin and bear the expenses. I just hope that I sell enough books to at least cover my expenses. Keep in mind that books are not real money makers for writers….unless you sell a million copies of something. Frankly, because I always overspend on production I'm thrilled if I break even on mine.

Other subjects

Speaking of fly fishing. A few weeks ago Barney Bellinger called and invited me on a fishing trip to Plymouth, Massachusetts. Of course I went along. The stripped bass were in and we fished our brains out well past dark. The next day we were rained out and returned home. The following week Barney again called and insisted that I go with him to Cape Cod for more fishing. This time my wife and daughter were not happy with my upcoming absence. Of course they insisted on coming along. "OK", I said, ….and off we went! Well… the fishing was great and the lobsters we had for dinner were excellent. We spent the night in a great hotel and than another night and than another night and another night after that. It was only supposed to be a day trip but we got carried away and as long as my charge cards are not rejected we'll have a good time! Once we returned home, however, I received a call from an administrator at my daughter's elementary school. He complained about my daughter being out of school for to many days. My only comment to him was that our trips to Yellowstone National Park and many other significant places in the country were, in my opinion, far more educational than playing dodge ball in school. He wasn't happy with my comment.

And so, tonight (Wednesday June 21), a bunch of us are having dinner at the home of Susan and Barney Bellinger. While there we'll eat all of the fish we caught on our trip to the Cape. If we average out the costs of the fish we'll have for dinner it comes to about $250 for each of the eight plates of fish that will be served to guests. I can assure readers that's its far cheaper to go to the local restaurant for a fish fry than it is to catch your own and pay all the expenses of fishing guides, gas, motel rooms and meals.

Friday, June 23, 2006. The dinner at Barneys place was exceptional. While there I wandered through Bellingers workshop and marveled at the numerous projects presently under construction. Barney constantly amazes me with his ability to grow as an artist. Some of the paintings were truly remarkable and he and I spent a good twenty minutes appreciating and commenting on a new floor lamp he had recently finished. Sometimes, in our absolutely insane world, it's good to reflect on the abilities and uniqueness of others. Artists are a good thing. They allow us to see things in a new perspective. They broaden our horizons and they inspire us to do better in our own lives. We should all spend more time trying to make things better. It would be good for us as individuals and as a world.

But art, and the art business, is a funny thing. In today's world much of the extraordinary art created is never seen by the public. It's created in isolated studios and than placed in private homes and collections. It would do the world good to see more art. It would do the people of the world good to feel better about ourselves.

But with that thought in mind I wonder about the men who lead the many nations of the world. We need leaders who strive for peace. We need people capable of great vision who can solve problems. We need people who can understand different points of views. It's often said that there are only two sides to a coin. That is an unwise and foolish statement. Coins have three sides and just about anyone can get a coin to stand on edge. The point is is that there are other points of view. And other sides to the coin. And until leaders fully comprehend all facets of any problem we are doomed to one sided solutions that always leaves someone unhappy and angry.

But back to art for a moment. Many of the great rustic artists are extraordinary individuals who have led extraordinary lives. And beginning with my next "Newsletter" I'm going to write a few pages each month about the lives of many of these characters. Rustic artists are generally unknown individuals. For the most part they live isolated, yet fascinating lives. And for the sake of history I believe it's necessary to document the lives of many of these creative individuals. For example, Peter Winter, one of the strangest individuals I have ever met, is actually a brilliant person. His innovations in the rustic world clearly demonstrate moments of pure genius. Conversations about the art world between he and I have gone on for hours. Randy Holden is an accomplished musician and began his career framing homes in Northern Maine. Barney Bellinger started his career building motorcycles. Lester Santos began by building guitars. Jimmy Covert is a long lost cowboy. And Chris Wager is a fanatic motorcycle maniac.

Some of the artists I've known have led bizarre and disrupted lives. Others appear to have had productive, stimulating childhoods. Some of the artists I've known should be in either mental institutions or jail. Most of them have no business sense whatsoever. Some live completely outside of the mainstream of society. Some of them hide behind the guise of being "artists". Some of them are incredibly responsible. Some are not. But they all have unique stories.

These individuals, and many others like them, are the Picassos and Da Vincis of our day. Their lives need to be recorded and documented. It would be a tragic loss to the future if nothing was known of the lives of the rustic artists of today. And so I'll begin writing about their lives soon. For the past thirty years I've made photos of their work and my library of photos now contains hundreds of thousands of images of their creations. But it's their lives that are fascinating. Maybe we can all learn something from their idiosyncrasies and genius. It might do all of us some good. At the very least it will be entertaining.

Other Subjects

My musical career is being overshadowed by other concerns. As adults it's really hard to find time to practice. Music is not a part time endeavor. It requires a long time and on-going commitment. The Ralph Kylloe Band is actually a great band that thrives on innovation. Tragically (at least from a musical sense), we all have careers and kids and other responsibilities. Our singer and her husband guitar player, both real estate agents, live more than an hour south of me. My other guitar player also leads a complicated life and is the head of the math department at the local high school. Our young drummer is an engineer who works strange hours.

It's hard to get us all together. We have not found time to practice during the last few months and we are not as tight as we should be. This is disappointing to all of us. And so for the time being we're taking a brief brake from the musical scene. Tragically, I had to cancel a few gigs because we're not as good as we can be. And I'll be damned if we're going to play at an important wedding and sound mediocre or boring. It's not fair to our listeners or the people who pay us to be a great band. But, as a band, we've been together for seven years and when the spirit moves us we'll jump back on the wagon and make some great tunes. I look forward to it!

On another subject…..I often wonder why I write this stuff. No one pays me to do this and it does take up significant time. It seems that a gazillion people read my ramblings and every time I post a new Newsletter I receive all sorts of comments from all kinds of readers. Many people have written me lengthy letters that are actually quite moving. I enjoy hearing from everyone. My wife thinks I'm nuts for being as "open" as I am. She's surprised that I disclose as much of myself as I do. But that's just how I am and I'm not going to change at this point in my life. People need to occasionally "let down their guard". It's good for what "ails" us and when we hear the stories of others we are reminded of the similarities between us. For me, it's nice to hear that others have the occasional same thought as I. I'm reminded that I'm more "normal" than I think.

I also write a weekly column in the local paper that seems to bring all sorts of reactions. I'm very blunt in the column and have called the town mayor and the town council a bunch of bumbling idiots on several occasions. My wife is scared to death that someone is going to firebomb our house sometime because of my writings. But I seem to hit the correct local note because the paper receives all kinds of letters complimenting me and my articles (which vindicates me and is a great relief to my wife!) Keep in mind that my comments are directed toward things that need to be done and as well as things that are simply wrong (like paying 1.3 million dollars for a hut that should have cost $250k). Nonetheless, it's a fun article and I enjoy writing it.

We are making progress on my TV program, RUSTIC LIVING WITH RALPH KYLLOE. Although I will say that good things take time. We filmed a pilot program in three days a few weeks ago and are now in the process of negotiating with national stations for the rights to the series. It always amazes me at how a simple idea can become incredibly complicated. And every time I turn around there are more people involved. I just want the best possible show with minimum complications. Sometimes too many ideas hinders progress. But we are moving forward. And that's a good thing. Talk is cheap in this world. Ideas a dime a dozen. It's action that counts. Actually, this Tuesday, June 27 (my birthday!) we're meeting with the producers of PBS about a series for them. It should be interesting!

We are also building spec homes here in the Adirondacks. These will be mid level homes with unique rustic architectural elements added. We'll also decorate the homes in grand rustic style and than offer them to the public. More on this later.

Its now Saturday afternoon, June 24. In a few hours I'll be fly fishing on the Hudson River with my long time friends Tom and Bill Welsh. Hopefully, we'll catch a few rainbow trout. I release everything I catch back to the water because the fish are happier there than they would be in my frying pan. It's been busy here in the store today and I've spoken with different people and answered phone calls all day long. And I've loved every second of it. Life is good. It's necessary to remember that sometimes. Take care, Ralph

I am not beginning this newsletter with a recent photo of myself. I'll explain why a few paragraphs down.

A month or so ago, at the beginning of my daughter's school vacation, we excitedly boarded a plane for a week of relaxation in Key West. I had had a cold for a week and just wanted to relax in the sun, fish for a few days, eat shrimp and clams, feed the wild Key West cats and chickens and swim in a heated pool with my family. We were to meet Barney Bellinger and his family down there and we had arranged for a few guided fishing trips on the Gulf of Mexico. The first flight was late taking off and we missed our connecting flight in Chicago. As we sat and waited a few hours it became apparent that the evening flight was also over booked. Coughing like a madman I accepted the airlines offer to put us up in a hotel and to take the 6AM flight out in the morning. We stayed in a nice hotel at the airport and arrived at five AM for the early morning flight. Tragically, that flight was also full. We returned to the hotel and slept for a few more hours and finally got on a mid day flight. We were late arriving in Atlanta and missed our connecting flight. At around midnight we finally arrived in Fort Lauderdale where we found a cheap hotel. The following morning I could hardly talk due to a very harsh cough and major sore throat. We went to a walk-in medical center and I was quite happy when I was given some great pain killers, antibiotics, cough syrup and decongestant. The bill for the fifteen minute medical appointment was $80. The bill for the four prescriptions was $398.22. I about fell over. I was also told by the MD that if my illness did not clear up that I should check with my primary care physician regarding more tests.

Later that day we arrived in Key West and settled into a great room at the Ambrosia B&B in the old section of town. And so for the next eight days I laid in bed miserable and sick as a dog. Nothing taste right, the sun was too bright, I could hardly talk and I was coughing like someone who had smoked four packs of Camels for forty years. At the same time, the combination of pain killers, cough medicines and decongestant left me in a mental fog. One morning, just to get out of my room, I wandered into town and found a barber shop. I entered the shop and was escorted politely to an empty chair.

"What can I do for you, Sweetie?" the stylist asked.

"Just a hair cut please" I answered.

"Are you here for the celebration?"

Not knowing what she was talking about and aware that this was spring break for thousands of kids I answered simply, "Yes!"

"Honey, I'm going to make you gorgeous" said the stylist. A strange comment I thought…coming from a barber.

It was a quick haircut. Half way through the experience another barber came over, "fussed" with my hair for a few moments and than gave me a shoulder message which was, in reality, quite relaxing. In time the barber announced that I was now gorgeous and ready for the world. The sheet was taken off me and I was spun around in the chair for a quick look at myself in the mirror. Without thinking I shouted "I look like a god damned fag!" My hair was cut down to my scalp and my "bangs" were pointing straight up.

The barbers were now all "giggling" and one of them said "You sure do, Honey, and you do look great!" I wanted to die. I than took a close look at the four barbers. They were, in reality, all men dressed in full drag! One of them asked if I wanted some eye liner and I politely said "no!" The haircut cost me fifteen bucks and my "barber" kept the change from my twenty dollar bill as a tip. I didn't argue. I just wanted out. Out on the street it was apparent that it was "Gay Pride/Drag Race" day in Key West. Before me a parade was forming that soon marched down Duval Street to both the amazement and amusement of thousands of tourists.

When I returned to my room my wife and daughter found my appearance hysterical and others who have seen me here at my gallery could not help but comment on my "new look!". For the time being I am not allowing photos of any sort to be made of me.

In truth, I've been loosely associated, in a business sense only, with the gay designer/decorator NYC crowd for many years. Most of the decorators I did business with in my early years of the business were professional individuals. Most were vary talented. But, I did have problems with a few of them. A few people refused to pay for items I had delivered, one guy returned something to me a year later and wanted his money back. But it was the arrogance and back stabbing that bothered me the most. In truth, the unscrupulous ones were no different from a few "sleaze-balls" that I've done business with in the "straight world". But, frankly, I think gay people are weird. I'm not kidding. I believe that they are an aberration in the species. As a long time student of evolutionary biology it is obvious that that the most important thing any individual can do is to insure the continuity of the species as a whole through propagation and child rearing. That, which is well understood, is the sole responsibility of each individual on the planet. Unconsciously, there is considerable mistrust of those who choose to abandon that lifestyle. There is recent evidence that the brains of gay people are wired significantly differently from those in the norm. Apart from all of that I occasionally look upon the gay community in wonderment. I have to laugh at some of the antics pulled off by members of that community. The drag queens, the flamboyancy and antics are, from my perspective, often comical.

But I'm walking on thin ice here. The wise thing to do is hit my delete button and eliminate this last paragraph. But there are all kinds of people in the world. My personal philosophy is that you can do whatever you want as long as you don't hurt anyone else or yourself. Frankly, if two guys or two women want to get married….who really cares? It doesn't bother me in the least. If that makes two people happy than the world is a better place. For religious fanatics who find this thought appalling….go jump in the lake. Get a real job and stop spreading your neurotic ideological garbage.

On another note, here's a reoccurring thought that's been with me for a while. When I was a graduate student in Boston I often wandered down to the fish pier for lunch at the "No Name" restaurant. For fewer than four dollars you could get a large bowl of fantastic, award winning seafood chowder and rolls! And it was delicious! After lunch I always wandered around the pier and marveled at the fishing trawlers while they unloaded their catch. As a photographer, I found the area incredibly visual and the individual fishermen I met were full of stories and charm.

Every once in a long while someone would mention that one of the trawlers needed an extra hand. The boats travel out to Georges Bank in the Atlantic Ocean and fished for a few weeks at a time. It was hard work I was told and the pay was not great. But the crews of the various boats became family members and each moment was a new adventure.

Being a responsible, mature individual I declined the invitations to "crew" one of the fishing trawlers. I returned to my classes, got good grades and graduated with a Ph.D. But as I've grown older I realize that the statistics that I studied so hard to learn are, in reality boring and useless to me at this point in my life. To this day I wish I would have followed the spirit of adventure that has often spoken so deeply to me. I wished that I would have realized that as an individual I need an ongoing sense of wonderment to keep me alert and passionate. Human beings are wanderers. We are adventurers who find passion in discovery. The thrill of adventure speaks loudly in our hearts. Maybe I've just never grown up. Maybe I never will. But the thought of sun rises and sun sets over the ocean and whales and gales thrills me. The mystery of the deep oceans fills me with a sense of wonderment and awe. Frankly, responsibility, maturity and all that stuff is good and all that….but to this day I wish I have gone fishing.

Business has been slow here for the past six weeks. We've been busy but it's nice to have a constant flow of customers in and out of the door and purchasing things off the floor. Traffic should pick up as the warm weather settles in.

I am happy to say that we will again be featured on NBCs The Today Show! The airing of the program will be the morning of Sunday, May 28. We will be filming the program next week and I look forward to again being on the Today Show!

As I have two new books coming out this year I've had a flurry of activity related to the competition of these bodies of work. I generally get the completed manuscripts to my publisher in January and than stop thinking about them. Then at the end of April I get bombarded with dozens of questions regarding the books. Unfortunately, I've misplaced my notes and digging up info to check spellings, dates, etc., is often a laborious task. But I got the job done and the books are 99% ready to go to the printer. The Hickory Furniture Book ($40) will be on the market at the end of August and The Rustic Home ($60) will be on the market at the end of October. I will be offering both of these books at a discounted price for first printing editions so please watch my website and newsletter for exact publication dates and prices!

Monday, May 8, 2006. It's now Brimfield week. The town of Brimfield, Massachusetts, host the worlds largest antique show three times a year. In an hour I'll pack my truck and take off for three days of absolute madness. More than four thousand antique dealers set up their wares and more then fifty thousand buyers flood the fields in search of treasures. And the funny thing is that they often find them! I actually set up at two of the different fields there and sell things that I brought to the show and found there as well.

Wendesday, May 10, 2006. It's now evening and I'm exhausted. I walked for fourteen hours each day at the antique show. I bought and sold a ton of stuff. I missed a few pieces I should have bought and saw lots of friends that I've met and known throughout my thirty years in the antiques/rustic furniture business. Usually I walk the fields beginning Monday afternoon until nine or ten PM. Tuesday morning I'm up at 3 and walk the fields with a flashlight with thousands of other fanatics. This goes on until around five PM. I than pass out in a hotel room. In my earlier years I slept in my trailer for the entire week but today I sleep at a local hotel! (It's tough to get old but I like a shower each day!) Wednesday morning I'm also up at 3 and am on the ground at about 5AM. By early afternoon I'm absolutely exhausted. As a younger man I would spend an entire week at Brimfield. I just can't do it any more and returned home with a number of treasures by 5 PM.

Regarding antiques: Although I sell mostly new rustic furniture in my gallery I also sell hundreds (sic) of pieces of antiques accessories including snow shoes, pack baskets, skis, canoe paddles, old camp signs and all kinds of other antiques each year. Last year I also sold more than a hundred pieces of antique rustic furniture including Old Hickory and high-end Adirondack furniture as well. We usually don't put the antique pieces out on the floor so if you're looking for old pieces let me know. As I've been in the business for many years people know that I am still very active in the antiques business and I really do get dozens of house calls each year. So if you're looking for antique pieces let me know.

Thursday, May 18, 2006. It's now a few weeks later. The people from the NBC's Today Show will be here in a few hours. Yesterday I sold more than thirty pieces of furniture to a decorator who is doing a huge rustic ski resort in the area. We loaded their truck in the late afternoon and my gallery is almost vacant. So for the next hour I have to rearrange things so the gallery looks great. The Today Show program will be interesting. An individual from Ohio sent a letter to them stating that he was tired of his career and his dream job would be to build rustic furniture and have his pieces sold here at the Ralph Kylloe Gallery! (Sounds good to me!) So we are going to host that gentleman and the TV crew for the day! We'll have him work in our on-site workshop with rustic artist Lori Toledo. They will work on a few pieces of furniture for half the day and provide tips to our guest on how to correctly build rustic furniture. Then he'll spend the other half of the day with me as I ramble on about how to market oneself, find customers, and, in general, make a living as a rustic furniture builder (which, I should add, is no easy thing)! Should be an interesting show. The program will appear on NBC, May 28, in the morning! Hope you get a chance to watch it.

The clean up of the oil spill behind my summer home on Lake George costs $68,500. That's right folks…$68k. My insurance agent argued a year ago that I should have a special "rider" on my home owner's policy to cover such accidents. It was only $8 per year. I nearly didn't take it. Fortunately I did and my insurance covered the costs of the clean up. My once beautiful back yard is still not perfect but once the grass grows in it will be as good as new!

I am beginning work on two new books as I speak. I have to have a book titled THE ROMANCE OF THE FIREPLACE completed by July and another large book titled THE SMALL CABIN completed by October. Both books will be released in 2007. So for part of July I'll be back in Montana photographing several smaller homes and will spend the rest of the summer photographing rustic homes in New England and here in the Adirondacks.

Last weekend was the Centennial Dinner and Celebration for the Anglers Club of New York of which, I am happy to say, I am a very proud member. Two hundred and seventy members from across the world showed up at the university Club in NYC for dinner and celebration. The Scottish contingency was in full Scottish regalia including kilts and hats. Others from different countries dressed in their finest. Full black tie was the order of the evening. It was be far the grandest dinner I ever attended. The following three days sixty of us die-hard fishermen journeyed to central Pennsylvania to fish for three days on private waters! It was a grand time! And, I'm thrilled to be a member!

We begin filming for my TV program RUSTIC STYLE WITH RALPH KYLLOE this coming week. We have hired Peter Pape and his video crew to produce the films. John Sterner, my business partner in this effort, will act as director and producer for the programs. John is an incredibly creative guy who loves rustic stuff as much as I and I am certain it will be an absolute pleasure working with him. I will host the shows and present some of the greatest rustic homes ever! It promises to be a great adventure. Several companies have indicated interest in sponsoring the programs. Shortly we will be seeking further sponsorship from more individuals and firms. If interested let me know please.

This fall I will again be speaking at the Western Design Conference in Cody, Wyoming. This is always an exciting event and the finest artists in the West (and East) show off examples of their work! I'll be speaking about the relationship of Old Hickory furniture to the West and showing slides from some of the great old Western homes and ranches. I'll also have copies of my just-released book titled HICKORY FURNITURE. This book contains a great history of the hickory furniture movement and offers about a hundred color photos of some of the greatest historical hickory pieces ever found ( and a few contemporary pieces as well!)! My friend Bob Morrison, the VP at Old Hickory, will be presenting with me and this will be a perfect time for people to get to know him and ask all kinds of questions regarding his company. Bob has done an exceptional job of both streamlining his company and increasing the quality of their products as well. I'll also be signing several of my other books and enjoying the conference.

Cody is just outside Yellowstone National Park. At that time of the year peak foliage is ever-present, the tourists are gone and cool air greets early morning risers. The bison are in full rut and the bugleing of the elk as they seek mates is one of the great natural sounds on the planet. If you're coming to the conference don't forget to bring your fly rod as well.

Friday, May 19, 2006. The filming of the Today Show segment went well yesterday. The producer and film crew were here for about eight hours. Segments were filmed in my workshop, my gallery and at my summer home on Lake George. It went well. It always astonishes me on how long it takes to do a five minute segment. They filmed for at least four hours! And all that for a five minute spot! But it was fun and the segment should bring us significant more visibility. And how can I argue with being seen in front of ten million people?

Saturday. My family and I spent the morning at my cabin. We changed the sheets on the beds, fumbled with the plumbing, got the electricity going and relaxed for a few minutes. Last night two of my friends and I got together here at my gallery and played music for about three hours. It was the most fun I had had in a while. It was a "free-for-all" jam and we had no idea where the music was going or when it was going to end. It was art at its finest.

Spring is finally here. The birds begin calling to each other at around 4AM. The mist over the mountains in both my front and back yards rises like foreboding spirits. Humans love to fantasize about such things and I often gaze upon the rising fog and imagine that the spirits of the earth are saying good morning to me and are personally welcoming me to another beautiful day. I chuckle to myself as I think such thoughts, but, it is far better to think good things than things of a distrustful nature. Good thoughts bring needed peace to weary and troubled souls.

The morning also hears the local owls make a few final calls to each other before they retire for a days sleep. The moon dips below the western skies. The trees are in full bloom now and soon the black flies and mosquitoes will search me out with the intent of not making my life miserable (which they can do) but with the intent of continuing their own lives in the only way they know how. We've been visited by a huge pileated woodpecker most of the winter and he has succeeded in de-barking several dead standing trees in the forests directly behind my home. I only wish that more of humanity had the ambition he does. The world would be a better place and the self images of much of the world would be improved. The ice is finally off the lake and it was a joy to watch the waters of Lake George expose itself once again to the warming rays of the sun. Soon the fishes of all kinds will be making their nests and repopulating the waters with more of their own kind. Spring is a good thing.

Except for the momentary lapses in reason and sanity life is good for me. Occasionally the demons shake my spirit but I hold on to the foundations of my life and do the best I can. Besides….. my daughter needs me. Both peace and personal chaos are never far away in my life. Like the seasons of our world my moods come and go. I cannot change them. I do the best the can with what I've got. My best to all of you, Ralph

PS OK , Here's a photo of me….its six weeks now after my episode with the gay barber in Key West and my hair is returning to normal. Take care, R

Maybe it’s the winter “blahs”. Maybe it’s just that time of the year. But, in truth, I’m bored. I’ve been doing the same things for the past thirty years. True, I get to travel and do all kinds of stuff but, in all honesty, there has to be other things in life that can get my “juices” going.

Right now I have four new contracts on my desk for other books. All I have to do is sign them and I’m back in business. And they would be great books. I submitted proposals for each of them and I know I could get them done. I have all of the subject matter lined up and I’m ready to go.

But the last few books took a bit of the old wind out of my sails. The RUSTIC HOME, another big $60 book that I just finished and will be on the market this October, took far more effort than I thought. This, however, promises to be my best book to date. The homes I photographed were extraordinary and I had a great time with all of the individuals who generously helped with this effort. But in truth, I’m exhausted from the effort. And further, the out-of-my- pocket costs are extraordinary. Books are, in truth, just not that profitable (unless you’re John Grisham). And the time spent away from both my business and family are costly on me personally. My seven year old daughter needs help with her homework and I need to be in my gallery to keep things running smoothly. A month from now I will probably change my mind regarding the books but right now I am uncertain about my future involvement with in the book business.

So I need some changes and a new challenge in my life. And here’s my new direction. I purchased a chunk of land a few days ago here in the Adirondacks and plan on building high-end rustic spec homes. My contractor and I came up with a great design for the first home and we will, of course, add some unique architectural elements to embellish the setting. We will also provide some great furnishings for the home to give it high-end appeal. And frankly, I’m really looking forward to this project. I’ve been asked by several contractors over the years to do a “Ralph Kylloe” home design and the timing is now right to pursue this project.

Further and even more exciting for me is a project that I’ve been developing for several years. RUSTIC STYLE WITH RALPH KYLLOE (me) is a series of TV specials that will introduce viewers to the intimacies and glories of rustic living. After interviewing different individuals I have entered into a business relationship with my old friend John Sterner. I have known John for many years and he was very helpful to me by providing both equipment and technical knowledge to improve my photographs for many of my early books. John is the former owner of Firehouse Production and has more than forty years of experience both directing and producing films. He and I have been discussing a series of TV specials based on rustic style for the past eight years and the time is right for both of us to work together on this project. I will be writing the text and hosting the show! John will be in charge of directing and production. Filming begins in April! As the series progresses I’ll included comments regarding the process of the experience in my “Newsletters”! It should be interesting. I’ve appeared on TV more times then I can remember and “rambling” on, especially about rustic stuff, in front of a camera or in public is always exciting for me. At the same time, don’t ever think for one second that I don’t get “butterflies” in my stomach before I speak. But, usually, as soon as the lights and camera are on I relax and get down to business!

On another note, I was in a very nice restaurant a few days ago with my wife and daughter. The hostess showed us to a good table and we perused the menu for a few minutes before we ordered our meals.

“Would you like a glass with your beer sir?”, asked the waitress.
“No, thank you,” I said. “It’s already in a glass”.
Although I’m not a serious red meat eater I ordered the prime rib.
“How would you like that cooked sir?”, asked the waitress.
“Over a fire” I said.
“No, I mean how would you like us to cook the order?” the waitress asked.
“I would like it cooked over a fire”, I said. It seemed like a logical answer to a straight forward question to me.
“Sir”, the waitress was now speaking both aggressively and loudly to me, “do you want it rare, medium or well done?”
“Sorry”, I said, “but I thought I was giving you the correct answer.” “I’ll have it medium”.
Our food was eventually served and I didn’t complain. Actually it was a very good meal that I’m certain sat in my stomach for at least three days.
Once we were through with our dinner I politely asked our waitress for an invoice.
“A what?”, asked our server.
“An invoice”, I said.
“Sir, I don’t know what that is”.
“An invoice is an itemized bill”
“Oh, you want the check”, she said.
“No, I don’t want a check. A check is something you give to me and I cash at a bank. I want an invoice.” With that my wife kicked me under the table. The waitress left and the manager suddenly appeared.
“Sir, here’s your god damned invoice. You really upset your server. Please pay the bill and leave”.

My wife’s only comment was… “I can’t take you anywhere”. I paid the invoice with a charge card and left. Sometimes I just don’t know what’s wrong with people.

On another note, I have purchased a very large quantity of my book FLY FISHING THE GREAT WESTERN RIVERS directly from my publisher. And just to entice readers I am offering the book at the very low price of $25 per copy plus shipping. I have sold a few hundred copies of this book at the full retail price of $60 here in my gallery. So if you’re interested please let me know.

As long as I’m on the subject of books here’s an interesting thing that happened to me a few days ago. I was at an “open-mike” this past weekend here in the Adirondacks. A number of musicians were playing and I managed to play for a few hours on stage myself. During a break I sat down next to a distinguished looking gentleman who inquired about the bass guitar I was playing. I explained that it was a vintage instrument and talked for a few minutes about its history. In time we realized that we were both writers. To my interest he commented that many of his books had sold more than a hundred thousand copies each. I was very impressed and mentioned that my books generally sold between ten and twenty thousand copies. I asked his secret to his successful sales. Turns out that he wrote adult books of a lascivious nature! “Hey man look”, he said, “there’s big bucks in sex novels”. “I don’t doubt that at all”, was my only comment. Shortly, I returned to the stage and watched out the window as the porno king drove off in a new BMW. I have to say that I gave his line of business some serious thought as I “bummed” another two dollars from a fellow musician to buy another beer later that evening.

And so it’s March here in the Adirondacks. It’s been a woeful winter up here in the north. The lakes did not freeze enough to accommodate the Winter Carnival Festival here in Lake George this year. And tragically some fool who had too much to drink decided he could make it across the lake on his four-wheeler ATV. He made it about a half mile before the ice gave way. His body was retrieved the following day. His machine will now leak gasoline into our clean water for the next few years as it rots on the bottom of the lake.

In my last Newsletter I mentioned that kerosene had spilled from my heating system at my summer house on Lake George. During the cleanup the crew succeeded in damaging my home by slamming a bulldozer in to the side of my house. They also succeeded in ruining several large trees by being careless with their back hoe.

And then a few weeks ago we lost power here in the Adirondacks for four days. The first night was tolerable but it dipped well below zero the next day. Most of the hotels were closed which forced guests to find accommodations elsewhere. As my home dipped into the 30s I desperately sought accommodations for my wife and daughter. With the loss of power we had no heat, phones, water and no lights. And it was dangerously cold. The shelters were both open and full of struggling, cold people. We finally found a room, at great expense, at the Sagamore Resort for two nights. My wife and daughter loved it as they ate great food and swam in the hotel pool. I tried my best to keep our home from freezing by keeping the fireplace roaring. But fireplaces are not for heating homes. All of the heat goes up the chimney. At two AM the second night I threw my last log on the fire and drove to the hotel. Two days later the power finally came back on and I was incredibly lucky that the pipes in our home did not freeze. Then, to add insult to injury, the power again went off.

That was it. We drove to New York City and spent a great two nights and three days entertaining ourselves at museums and restaurants. Actually, I attended a meeting of the Anglers Club of New York at our Brown Stone building just off Wall Street. It was a great dinner and thirty of us talked of nothing but fly fishing for nearly five hours! It was a grand time. Then the following evening we had dinner with some new clients of ours at a great Mexican restaurant. It was a well deserved weekend.

There are a few new shows that people should pay attention to. The Lake, Home and Cabin Shows held yearly, first in Minnesota and then the following weekend in Milwaukee are the shows to either attend or exhibit! The Minneapolis show is April 21-23 and the Milwaukee show is April 28-30. Call 888-471-1192 for show times and locations. More than 200 exhibitors will be at both shows and more than ten thousand individuals attended each show last year! I exhibited at last years Minneapolis show and just about sold out my booths. And business remained strong throughout this past year from customers I met at the show. Keep in mind that there are far more “cabins and vacation” homes in Wisconsin and Minnesota then there are here in the east and residents of that area have not been exposed to really high-end artwork. So, exhibitors save up your great stuff and be prepared to have some great sales at the Lake, Home and Cabins shows!

Under normal circumstances I would exhibit at these events but, unfortunately, my schedule requires that I be elsewhere.

Now for some of the “darker” things in the world. Read this through before you come to any conclusions please. I dedicated my last book, the ADIRONDACK HOME, to myself. I really did. And a half dozen or so people who I chose to not include in that book decided that dedicating the book to myself was an incredibly arrogant, ego maniacal thing to do. But that only goes to show how petty and shallow some people in the world are. If they had bothered to read the entire dedication they would have realized its meaning. But because those individuals cannot read and didn’t pass the fourth grade they are forever stuck in the abyss is stupidity. Here’s the dedication as it is printed. It says;

“This book is dedicated to me. Dr. Ralph R. Kylloe Jr. What the heck? I’ve worked hard all my life, been nice to people most of the time and done some pretty good things in my time. I hope someone remembers me when I’m dead and gone. And besides us average folks need someone on our side. If we don’t speak up for ourselves no one else will! And when will I ever have another chance to do this? So always try to add just a bit of humor in your day would you please! It’ll help you get through all the goofy stuff in the world.”

I had several people email me saying that it was the greatest dedication they ever read. And I do appreciate their comments!

Some other right wing fanatic jerk emailed me a few times lately saying that he loved my furniture and hated my politics. He too can go eat worms. Somehow he was also under the impression that I was rich….that’s a joke and a half. If I could afford to retire right now believe me I would. I would rather go fishing all day and play music all night then lug furniture all over the world. And consider this as well. When I’m 70 years old I have to come up with college tuition for my daughter who is presently seven years old.

Saturday March 11. I spent the day in a recording studio with my band (appropriately named the Ralph Kylloe Band). Playing music is another world. I get lost in that world. Time has no meaning. It is, at the same time, a passionate conversation between individuals. It is not a spoken language but we know what each other is both saying and doing. There are very strict rules within the world of music…especially when you’re playing with others. It’s critical to listen to what the others are doing. And within that structure and discipline there is unbelievable freedom. At the same time music is not for ego maniacs, although huge egos definitely exist in the performing arts (as they do in all facets of humanity!) Nonetheless, we finished a demo CD and will soon begin circulating it around the area in the ongoing quest to find paying gigs. In truth, there is little money in the real world music scene. We do it because we love it. All five of us have full time jobs, families and other responsibilities and just getting together to practice is sometimes a chore. But, its fun and another way to live up to ones potential. Laziness and apathy destroys individuality and character. Effort of any sort elevates individuals and humanity as a whole. Keep that thought in mind when you turn on the TV. I know I do.

Sunday, March 12. It’s now around 11AM. Every other morning I go to the local YMCA to exercise. I shoot basketballs for a half hour by myself than spend twenty five minutes on a treadmill and finish off the routine with about twenty minutes of machine work. I do this because I’ve gained a few pounds and my blood pressure is a bit elevated. So this morning a basketball team was working out in the gym and because they needed another player I was asked to play. What the heck, I thought and so I joined in. All of the players were just a bit taller then I (and younger!) And I must admit that there were several great players in the game. I did my best to keep up and succeeded in scoring several baskets. I was somewhat effective on defense and only succeeded once in a rebound. Two of their best players, however, ran circles around me and scored several easy shots because I failed to sprint down court. After twenty minutes of play I was exhausted and asked to be relieved. Actually I did better then I had hoped and didn’t have a heart attack. The two superstars on the team congratulated me on scoring three, three pointers! I just wished that for the past half hour I had been playing on a men’s team and not the all women’s team!

In truth, it’s kind of lonely around here in the winter months. We are still very busy but far fewer people stop in my gallery when it’s cold. As the weather warms up the store is usually busy with all sorts of people stopping in to order furniture, pick-up pieces, buy books, just the see what’s new in the gallery or just to chit chat for a few minutes. The days fly by when we’re busy. I enjoy meeting everyone and spend lots of time with people even though I am fully aware that they will probably not purchase anything. It’s a good life and I’m happy its mine. My best to everyone, Ralph

PS. No political comments this week. I’m too disgusted with the world to make comments about it at this time.

PSS. However, it disgusts me that Exxon still has not paid the fines for spilling a tanker full of oil in Valdez, Alaska sixteen years ago. They’ve paid hundred of millions of dollars to sleaze-ball attorneys to legally delay the payments. I hate people and companies like that. The government should seize their assets and force the company to pay their fines. That’s what they would do to me and any other citizen if we didn’t pay-up. So in protest I’m writing letters and no longer am purchasing fuel from Exxon/Mobil.

We received a call from a friend of ours a few weeks ago. Along with a few others we had been invited to a private lunch/ reception for Senator Hillary Clinton. Of course we accepted. It was a relatively formal affair and we mingled with others while we waited for the Senator to arrive. Once Hillary walked into the room all eyes were on her. Frankly, she was far more charming and charismatic than I expected. She worked the crowd like a pro. In time a receiving line was formed and we graciously waited our turn for a few “face moments” with her. We waited anxiously next to a large, fully armed secret service agent. I wisely decided not to joke with him. Finally it was our turn to meet the Senator.

“Hi Senator, I’m Ralph Kylloe. I’m good friends with…”

“Ralph, it’s so nice to finally meet you. Bill and I have all your books and we love your work!” Perhaps the coolest thing ever said to me I was almost at a loss for words. But I regrouped, introduced my wife Michele and chatted with the Senator for a very delightful few minutes.

For the life of me I can’t understand why the Clintons are so disliked by some people. Bill served the country for eight years and saw the country through the greatest economic prosperity of all time. He balanced the budget, paid off the national debt and left the country in excellent financial condition. We had no major wars during his tenure. Sure, he did a couple of dumb things but he paid the price for his indulgence. The republicans spent nearly eighty million dollars trying to discredit him but to no avail. If you want some great reading read both of their books. You won’t be disappointed.

But enough of that kind of stuff for the time being.

Several minutes after our “meeting” with Hillary another couple, friends and clients of ours, came up to us and said “We heard what Hillary said to you and we are impressed!” These folks didn’t realize that I have friends in high places!

In truth, Hillary was incredibly personal, looked me right in the eye, had a firm, extended handshake and put her arm around me when photos were made. After the reception our small group went into an adjoining room where a crowd of some three hundred well-wishers listened intently while the senator spoke on such topics as the economy, the war, the new prescription drug plan and a few other subjects. She was very well received by everyone.

Regarding politicians, the most charismatic politician I ever met was, without a doubt, Bobby Kennedy. Back in 1968 I was a student in Illinois and volunteered in Indiana for Kennedy during his presidential run. I listened to him speak several times and personally met him twice. The first time he was with his wife Ethel. The three of us spoke for a few minutes about the issues of the day. The second time we met I hobbled up to him on a cane. I had broken my toe and was struggling with my injury. “Ralph, what happened to your foot?” he asked. I was shocked he remembered my name. I explained my predicament. Upon hearing my plight he ordered one of his aids to rent me a car for the weekend. For the next three days I shuttled other volunteers around the city of Evansville, Indiana. In truth, he was an electric speaker. I’ve never seen crowds of people push so hard just to see an individual. To this day I think about him.

I also spent a half hour with presidential candidate Michael Dukakis. I was an employee at Thompson Island Education Center in Boston Harbor. Dukakis arrived at a large reception by boat and I met him at the dock. He and I walked to the hall together. After a very interesting conservation he asked what I did at the Island. “We’ll, I do everything from make beds to…” Before I could finish with my sentence he abruptly said “that’s OK, I made my bed myself this morning as well”. Then he was gone. I just wish that I could have also said that I had thirty-five employees and controlled numerous grants worth a few million dollars. But that’s how it goes.

John Kerry was a different story. I met him at a small fund raiser in Lexington, Mass., years ago when he was a Jr. Senator. Tall and calm he spoke to about twenty of us for about a half hour before mingling with the small crowd. I stood patiently next to him for quite sometime as he politely answered many questions from individuals who were far more distinguished looking and older than I. In time he realized what was happening and put his arm around me just to let me know that he was conscious of my predicament. After a while I left without speaking directly to him. I had to teach a graduate class at Tufts University where I was a professor and didn’t want to be late.

Hubert Humphrey and Gene McCarthy were both caught up in the presidential scene. I met both of them on different occasions. Both seemed significantly preoccupied to bother with individuals and both went on to loose their presidential elections.

AIRPLANES AND AIRPORTS

I know I say this every month or so but I hate airplanes and airports. Here’s last weeks nightmare. My flight was more than an hour late departing from Albany, NY. We sat on the ground while the pilot burned off fuel to meet the proper weight for take-off. I finally landed in Detroit, then went on to Seattle where I had a six hour wait for the next flight. Then to Eugene , Oregon and then another small flight to Medford, Oregon. I can’t tell you how much fun it is to spend fourteen hours on cramped planes and in airports. Of course when I got off the plane my luggage was not there. It was still in Seattle or somewhere else. It would arrive on the midnight flight. I rented a car and found a nearby hotel. At six in the morning I returned to the airport to retrieve my luggage. This is a very small airport and no one was around other than the ticket agents. I parked right outside the door and entered the building. There, not more than twenty feet in front of me, was my luggage.

“Sir, you cannot leave your vehicle unattended” shouted a guard.

“Mame, I’m just getting my luggage.”

“Sir, you must not leave your vehicle.” With that the ticket agent, standing not fifteen feet away, offered to bring my luggage to me.

“Sir, if you do not move your vehicle immediately, I’ll be forced to call the sheriff”.

“Lady, I just want to get my luggage which is sitting right there.”

I refused to move my vehicle and walked directly toward my bags.

“Sir, move your vehicle now please”. A foot from me was an officer of the law. Two hundred pounds of quivering hatred the lesbian officer stood with her hand on her gun.

“Mame”, I said very politely, “My bags are twenty feet from me. Please just let me get them and I’ll leave immediately”. Inches from me and with horrible breath the bull dyke said loud enough to be heard in New York “you must park your car in the lot”.

Sometimes power hungry people just make me sick. This was one of those moments. I couldn’t stand this woman.

“Lady, I’m getting my luggage”. A small crowd had gathered anxiously awaiting my next move. I walked toward my bags.

“Sir, if you take one more step you’ll be placed under arrest”.

What ever happened to just a little courtesy? How about accommodating an individual who just needs a little help? I wasn’t hurting anyone. I was the only one around. I had on a jacket and tie. Why couldn’t these two ladies just say “No Problem” and hold the door for me? Are we that insecure that we can’t help someone else? I’ll forever think of the two red neck pig Lesbians who are probably moonlighting as strippers and laughing about the time they “pushed around the little jerk in the airport.” I hope their stinking leather underwear shrinks and strangles both of them to death.

I turned and walked away. I retrieved my luggage a few minutes after I parked in their god dammed parking lot. My vehicle was the only one there. It was still dark.

Back at the hotel I commented on my experience with the two guards to the manager behind the desk. Everyone behind the counter chuckled. Apparently the guards at the airport are known for their rudeness and bad attitudes.

Once I was ready to leave for the photo shoot I realized that I did not have directions to the home. I called the architects office and they tried on three occasions for more then an hour to fax directions. To no avail. Finally they emailed directions to a site away from the hotel. The recipient than came to the hotel and printed out directions.

I was finally on my way. Within an hour I was completely fogged in. I was driving five miles an hour. Nothing was visible. I called the owner of the home on my cell phone and asked directions. She asked where I was. I didn’t know. “What do you see out of your windows?” “Nothing”, I said, “it’s just completely white”. The owner laughed. “I’ll find you”, she said. An hour later I saw the headlights of a vehicle which finally stopped next to me. “Lady, I’m trying to deliver some pizzas and I can’t find the house”, I said. We both laughed. I followed the vehicle about a half hour and finally came to a driveway in the middle nowhere.

And so for the next six hours I photographed one of the most extraordinary log homes in America. The place was just great. The building will appear in my upcoming book THE RUSTIC HOME due out mid October of this year.

The drive back to Medford was noneventful. The fog had lifted reveling spectacular scenery. It was dark when I arrived back at the hotel. I had a dinner of week-old meatloaf and macaroni at a truck stop just outside of town. I tried to take a late flight back to Seattle but a heavy fog prevented planes from landing or leaving. I resigned myself to taking the 6AM flight in the morning. At 4AM I returned my rental vehicle. At5:30 in the morning it was apparent that the 6AM flight was not going to depart because of heavy fog. So I sat in the god damned stinking airport watching the two bull dyke lesbian officers as they harassed parkers. There I sat for five hours. Finally the plane took off. I hopped on another small plane in Eugene Oregon and than another tiny plane in Portland Oregon. Then I waited a few hours in Seattle. Then I took another plane to Missoula, Montana and then finally I arrived at 1AM in Kalispell, Montana. It only took 22 hours in airports to get to Kalispell. I could have driven it in fourteen. I got to the house on Flat Head Lake at around 2 in the morning and passed out. The next day I photographed a wonderful home and then drove five hours back down to Bozeman. Then I sat in an office for four days, 7 in the morning until 6 at night, trying to write the text for a book. During that time I had planned on photographing another home in the Bozeman area. I arrived at the site and was told that the home was not ready to be photographed. It was the fourth time she canceled the photo shoot. Frankly, I can’t stand the woman and she’ll never be in one of my books, ever. The only good thing that happened during that trip was that the ICE DOGS, the Bozeman semi pro hockey team, won again! Go Ice Dogs!

So I say this…if anyone out there wants my job….you can have it. I’m tired of making everybody else rich. I can’t stand the headaches. I just want to sit and watch reruns of Star Trek for a month. Or drink a dozen pina coladas as I watch the sun set in Key West. Or sit in the pool at Chico Lodge, or fly fish in Alaska. Or just about anything else. Just don’t anybody call me cause I can’t take it anymore! And I’m not going on any more airplanes for at least a month. And I mean it!

And to make matters worse….This past Monday night I discovered a fuel leak behind my cabin on Lake George. Tuesday morning I had my caretaker check out the leak. It was a bad one. Within a half hour I had the EPA emergency spill response team at my cabin. A tiny pin hole in the fuel line leaked many gallons of kerosene in my back yard. The official from the agency commented that its at least $20,000.00 and two weeks of labor to clean up the spill. It now appears that the costs will be much higher than that. I thank all the gods ever created that my home owners insurance policy is covering the clean up. But it is still a nightmare. Back hoes, bull dozers, emergency vehicles and all kinds of officials and workers are presently on the site.

Let’s see what else can I complain about? Oh yes, I can’t take hearing about Brad Pitt or Paris Hilton or Jennifer Aniston or Angelina Jolie or Britney Spears any more. What do those people do that makes others hang all over them? I don’t give a cow’s gizzard about them and I’m sick of seeing their names all over the place. Isn’t there something else in the world more interesting then those people? Why don’t people “get a life” and stop being a spectator of all the insignificant garbage and events in the world?

Just think, Each American, each and every one of us, owes the United States Government $156,000. And we will have to pay and pay and pay and pay. We owe this much money because that’s the National Debt. And each day the government spends more and more and more. It’s funny that no one is talking about CUTTING BACK ON THE SPENDING. So to all politicians I say very clearly STOP SPENDING MY GOD DAMNED MONEY. ITS NOT YOUR MONEY. ITS MY MONEY. I WORK HARD FOR IT AND IT SICKENS ME WHEN YOU SPEND SO MUCH OF MY MONEY. SO STOP IT.

Just think for a second. On average it takes nearly seven hours just to off-load someone from an ambulance and into an emergency room in New Orleans. The war in Iraq costs US citizens 168 million dollars per day. Wouldn’t that money be better spent on helping US citizens here at home then in some god forsaken desert country seven thousand miles from home. We often hear of the phrase “a strong America”. To me a strong America is a well educated, healthy population that lives in good, crime free neighborhoods. A strong country breaths clean air and drinks clean water. Citizens should have health insurance and seniors should receive the benefits that they have paid for throughout their lives. Each and every person should have a decent job and the opportunity to better themselves throughout their lives. That’s a strong America. We would be the envy of the world! And why can’t we have that? I just wish that someone in politics would explain why this vision of America is so far fetched.

On another note, we here in America speak a really strange language. How anyone from another country can figure out what we’re actually saying is beyond me. For instance, there are numerous idioms pertaining to our eyeballs. How about “keep an eye out”? Do we ever take our eyeballs out? Or “keep your eyes peeled”. Do we actually peel our eyes like we would do to an orange or banana? Or “he’s got eyes in the back of his head”. Are some of us physically deformed with real eyeballs growing on the anterior side of our skulls? Is that the direction we are evolving? Or how about “I’ve got my eye on you”. Do we actually put our eyeballs directly on someone? I don’t know if I like that thought. Or, “that’s an eye full”. Do we ever really fill our eyes with something? I’ll stop with this thought now as this is really strange stuff to think about and if I keep writing about our language I don’t know where I end up!

Maybe I should write about rustic furniture for awhile. There is the good possibility that just maybe someone wants to hear about what’s new in the rustic world. Seems reasonable enough to me.

I have a few new pieces from Barney Bellinger of Sampson Bog Studios coming in very soon. Shortly, I’ll have one of Barneys Trout paintings and a writing desk as well. Both of these items are very quick sellers and if someone is looking for a few of his pieces give me a call. I also have an extraordinary twelve foot dining room table here surrounded by twelve hickory chairs. The top on the table is highly figured Birdseye and Tiger maple. An ornate root and antler pedestal supports the center of the table. The table and chairs will be pictured under Adirondack Furniture on my web site. I am still offering an extraordinary piece of furniture by Randy Holden. Randy won the Best of Show award for this piece at the Western Design Conference in Cody, Wyoming last fall. It is truly a spectacular piece.

Business continues to be brisk here at my gallery. In fact this is by far the busiest winter we’ve ever had in thirty years of being in the rustic furniture business. Bookcases, mosaic top tables, bunk beds, dining room sets, bureaus, side boards and other pieces seem to disappear almost as soon as I bring them into the gallery. We’ve also been creating a number of bathroom vanities for local homes. And there seems to be a trend of having an Adirondack Room in homes of all types. But, as I’ve mentioned before it’s the really high end things that are selling.

Here’s something that a few days ago. Actually, I’m so disgusted about it I’m not going to mention it. Forget I even brought this up.

The books continue to sell well. The Rustic Home promises to be quite extraordinary. Many of the homes I’ve photographed are really out of this world. That book will be out mid October of this year and as I sit at my desk writing…. my dear editor is sitting at her’s praying that I get the introduction to her by the end of the day. (Madge, I‘ll get right on it as soon as I’m done with this Newsletter!) Before that book comes out my Hickory Furniture Book will be on the market at the end of August. The hickory book uses the same text as my 1995 History of the Old Hickory Chair Company book. In truth, my 1995 book was an un-circulated manuscript (meaning that it was not sold in stores). I sold nearly five thousand copies of that book. My new hickory book will include about 120 color photos of hickory furniture settings. The photos show mostly antique pieces and a few photos of new items by the various contemporary hickory furniture builders of today. As there is nothing like this book on the open market it promises to become the “guide” for those interested hickory furniture and interior design relating to rustic stuff. I’m also just about finished with another book called The Romance of the Fireplace. I’ve made hundreds of photos of some of the greatest fireplaces around the country and this book promises to be a real treat for those interested in hearth side entertainment.

Well, that’s about it for the time being. I can assure everyone that I’ve calmed down quite a bit since I first started writing this last night. I look forward to my family’s annual trip to Key West this April. Frankly, I need a vacation. I earned it and I deserve it and I will not be denied the opportunity to drink a few pins coladas, eat a half pound of shrimp and watch the sun set over the Gulf of Mexico. I just hate the thought of having to get on another airplane. Take care, Ralph

We had to park a block away and walk through the cold. I, being a manly man, didn't bring a coat. I didn't need one. I could take the pain. Real men don't need jackets. What an idiot I am! I was nearly frozen when I walked through the door.

I don't like hospitals. I avoid them like the plague. We first walked in to the emergency room where a host of sick people lying on carts, in wheel chairs and leaning on others moaned and groaned while they waited for care from god-like physicians who would cure their ills and woes. The only words I could understand were "what is your health insurance #?".

In time as we wandered through the Halls of Woe we came upon the out-patient clinic. There we found the correct office and filled out the proper forms. "No", I had not eaten anything this morning. "No", I am not allergic to anything. And "Yes, here is my health insurance card".

In time I was escorted to a small waiting/exam room and told by Beulah, the three hundred pound nurse from Poland, to undress and put on a surgical gown. I did what she said. She was not a person to argue, insult or fight with. Then the hammering began. The hospital was undergoing major renovations. A powerful jackhammer was banging away in the very next room. I could not hear a word my wife said even thought she sat right next to me.

No one likes surgery except the surgeons. On this day, however, I had to wait to see my favorite surgeon. I was told it would be another hour before my MD was ready to see me. Minute by minute my blood pressure rose. I finally asked the nurse if I was going to be given something to "calm me down". "There is nothing on your chart about medication, Sir". Half hour later I was beyond nervous and climbing the walls. The nurse showed up again, took my blood pressure, left the room and returned a few minutes later with enough valium to kill a horse. Ten minutes later I was relaxed and comfortable. The jack hammering continued. With every burst from the hammer bits of dust fell from the walls and ceiling. It seemed louder now.

In time I walked into the OR, settled down on the table and was covered with a green surgical gown. Each shot in my right hand caused me to jump a foot off the table. A few minutes later I could feel the surgeon cutting into my hand. It was just pressure, very little pain. But every once in a while he would hit the edge of the numbed area and I would "twitch" with both fear and agony. And all the while the jack hammering continued. The surgeon had to repeat orders to his assistants several times because they could not hear him.

An hour later I was done. I walked out of the room and more or less floated into the waiting arms of my wife. Then it was off to the pharmacy for some more drugs. Once home I slept the rest of the day.

The following morning on an empty stomach I took the correct amount of pain medications. Three hours later my wife took me back to the doctor's office because I looked nearly dead. The drugs were too powerful. The incision in my hand was very painful but I was in "la-la" land. The M.D. wrote me a script for more effective, but less powerful drugs.

And so for eight days I lived without the use of my right hand. I was miserable. Every time I turned around I seemed to bang my hand into something. On the eighth day my surgeon took out the few dozen stitches. Stiff, swollen and sore I was sick of being an invalid. So I got three, last second internet airplane tickets to Orlando, Florida for the following morning. I arose at four AM, put my right hand on the bureau next to my bed and stood up bending my fingers backwards in the process. I let out a shriek of pain as I fell to the floor. Once the light was on I took off the bandages and realized to my horror that I had completely ripped open the wound in my hand. As I bent back my fingers I could see my bones and ligaments. It was not a pleasant sight. It took an hour to stop the bleeding.

Because our flight was to leave in two hours I chose to go to the airport and have my hand taken care of there. Once in Florida I went to two different health clinics and was told that the wound could not be re-stitched because the incision in my hand had been open for more than four hours. So I resigned myself to having my hand closed in a fist position for another week.

Once in Florida we spent the first few nights at the Hard Rock Hotel at Universal Studios in Orlando. It was fifty degrees everyday and raining every day. I was hoping for better weather. It was not to be. Of course we went to both the Magic Kingdom and Epcot at Disney. I made one serious mistake at The Hard Rock Hotel. I was sitting by their pool while my daughter went down the water slide for ten thousandth time. I had been asked dozens of times about my hand. Why was it all bandaged up? Under the influence of my third Pina Colada I told an inquisitive young life guard that someone had slashed me with a knife and that I had killed the perpetrator with my gun. The guard asked me several times to repeat my story which I did. And each time I told the story it became more ridiculous. This, however, was not a good thing for me to joke about. In time I saw the guard talking with a policeman and both were looking my way. I quickly gathered up my daughter and retreated to our room. We checked out early the following morning. It is not a good thing to joke about shooting someone. I could have been in deep trouble. Even though nothing came of my exaggeration I'll never do that again.

From there we spent three nights at the Animal Kingdom Lodge in Disney. I'll tell you right from the start that when you go to any Disney facility you should just give them all of your money when you walk in the front door. You cannot get away without spending a fortune at any of their facilities. Their marketing strategies are the stuff of legends. Consider this just for a moment. For our last breakfast at the Animal Kingdom Lodge my daughter had a bowl of cereal, my wife had pancakes and I had a few eggs, juice and toast. It cost me $67 for the three of us. But my daughter did get a hug from a walking stuffed animal that wandered through the dining room. The following morning we ate at another Disney facility. Of course, my daughter had to have autographs from as many Disney characters as possible. While my Lindsey and my wife were in the rest room Snow White in full regalia entered the dining room and began signing autographs. Not to disappoint my daughter I got in line and waited for my turn with Snow White. A few minutes later I got a hug and autograph from Ms. White. She was then escorted from the room. A few minutes later, another Disney character, Belle, entered the room and of course I got in line by myself and waited for an autograph. Once I was in position and receiving a hug from Belle, I heard someone say "Oh, it's that weird guy with the bandaged hand." I just smiled, had my photo taken with Belle and then returned to finish my breakfast. My daughter was thrilled with the autographs but burst into tears when she realized that she had not had a hug from her two favorite Disney characters. I can take the insults from the audience but not the tears from my daughter. Oh, by the way, the room itself was $350 per night. (Right now I'm looking for a second job as it will take me another two years to pay off my Visa bill!)

The day after we returned home I flew directly to Bozeman, Montana where I spent thirteen days photographing a few homes and typing away on my lap top. And this coming Sunday I fly first to Detroit, then Seattle, then to Medford, Oregon. After photographing a house I then fly back to Seattle, then to Kalispell and then drive to Flat Head Lake. After Photographing another home I then drive down to Bozeman, Montana and stay there for three days of writing in the office of architect Larry Pearson. Then I fly to Minneapolis and then back to Albany.

Those of you who read my ramblings know my thoughts on airplanes and airports. But just please bear with me for a moment as I ramble on. Writing for me is good therapy and, just for a second, look upon yourselves as therapists helping a needy soul (that's me). If you count up the flights that I've been on for the past few weeks they add up to eight with seven more flights coming up during the next week.

And for the sake of brevity I'll just comment on the interesting things that happened during my time on airplanes.

Our flight to Atlanta a few weeks ago was overbooked and we graciously volunteered to take the next flight out. And as a perk we did receive three free airplane tickets anywhere in the country. We were also upgraded to first class for the next flight! My wife and daughter had great seats but I sat in a single seat in the front with no leg room. Frankly, flying first class is over rated. There are no meals, no free cocktails and no extra service to warrant extra money. But I had to consider this. Whenever I get on a plane I'm always envious of those who ride in first class. I check out each person as I make my way to the rear of the plane and wonder if those riding in first class are rich or famous. None of the first class passengers ever look at me as they are busy on their cell phones or reading the Wall Street Journal.

When I was in my first class seat on this trip I looked at everyone hoping that they would think I was rich or famous or in some way special. To my chagrin no one even looked at me. It was a dark day in my life.

The most regrettable flight was my recent flight to Montana. Boarding a small plane a woman and her newborn sat down right next to me. As the plane rocketed down the runway the infant hit me with violent projectile vomiting. The mother was apologetic and tried to help clean me up. But being disgusted I got up and immediately walked toward the restroom. Unfortunately I was stopped short by aggressive stewardess who told to immediately sit down in my chair. I could understand this as we were right in the middle of taking off. And so I sat down thinking at least I would have a good story for my Newsletter. Now, being the father of a six year old I am familiar with this sort of stuff and would clean myself up in a few moments once we were airborne. But moments after I sat down the infant had a horrible case of diarrhea. I am going to be completely honest here and not try to alter the scene in anyway. The smell was enough to knock the crown off the pope. But when the mother decided to change the child right in front of me it was too much. I got up from my chair, ran to the rest room and threw up all over the place. And all the while a stewardess was pounding on the door demanding that I immediately return to my seat. It was not a pleasant sight and I will stop talking about this now as the thought of the entire experience brings waves of nausea to my poor stomach.

And so I spent twelve days in the office of architect Larry Pearson. I only photographed two homes while in Montana but made very good progress on the text for my book THE RUSTIC HOME which will be on the market in the middle of this coming October. I was actually very happy to be in the office as I was able to get many answers to questions. It always shocks me when I actually start to count up the hours it takes to complete a book …and I was happy that people in the office saw me working from seven in the morning until six at night without a break. And right now I'm only about half way through the text and still need to photograph a few more homes. And I need to get all this done and onto my editors lap by February 15th or else I'll get yelled at! But I'll get it done and it will be a great book!

I should also mention that my full color book on hickory furniture is now complete and in the hands of my capable editor Madge Baird from Gibbs Smith Publisher. That book will be out mid August.

On another note, I was a professor at Tufts University for eight years before I moved up here to the Adirondack Park. It was a part time position but my courses were always immediately filled and with a long waiting list to get in if a cancellation occurred. Each semester I was also awarded letters from the Dean of the College complimenting me for being nominated by the student body as the most inspirational instructor at the University. I've kept those letters and am still thrilled to this day that the students thought highly of me.

One of the questions that continually came up in my classes was something to the effect of "how well do you know yourself?" or "how do you get to know yourself" My comment to that was always that it is a question that is very difficult to answer. Knowledge of oneself comes from working on ones weaknesses and developing ones strengths. Life is a process of involvement. It is not a spectator sport. You'll never get to know yourself by sitting on a couch each day. Students were always surprised when I commented that I knew myself very well and that I continue to work on my weaknesses. Life is not trying to improve yourself by comparing your abilities to someone else. It's best to try to improve your own time as a runner then it is to try to beat everyone else in the world. As a Jedi Knight once said…"there's always a bigger fish".

Business continues to expand here at my gallery in Lake George, NY. And we're thrilled to be involved in numerous projects around the country. In truth, it's only the very high end things that are selling. In reality, we really don't carry mid level items and we encourage our builders to use the best materials available and to create only superb examples of what ever inspires them. We've been getting some really great paintings from artist Veronica Nemethy. She's also completed several hand painted glass shades for sconces and table lamps. I'll post a few examples of her latest offerings on my website sometime during the next week. We've also picked up a few exceptional pieces from artist extraordinaire Barney Bellinger. I'll soon post those on my site as well. That is, if they have not sold first.

We've been sending more and more pieces to places such as Minnesota, Wisconsin, Montana, Austria, Switzerland and Japan. We've also had several inquiries from Africa and as far away as Australia. Our custom orders continue to grow as well. Right now we're working on several vanities for a new home on Lake George, a massive bar for another Adirondack home and a series of desks for an office in the Rocky Mountains. We're also building numerous beds for two different B&Bs, cupboards and dining room tables as well.

So far I've sold nearly 150 copies of my latest book ADIRONDACK HOME. I've offered this book at the low cost of $40 each plus shipping. Beginning next week the book will be $60 plus shipping which is the normal retail price for that book. I'll happily sign each book and send it off to you. On the other hand, you can buy the book at Amazon.com for around $37 plus shipping. I've also seen copies on EBAY for the same amount. Many people have wanted to purchase multiple copies from me. In truth, if you call the publisher at 1-800-748-5439 or visit them at www.gibbs-smith.com. you may qualify for a multiple-copies discount. Give them a call for multiple orders (and to see many other great books as well!) At the same time, I want to personally say thanks to all of you who have purchased the book from me. I greatly appreciate your business.

I want to add just a few comments about the book I'm just now finishing. Initially we were going to call this next book THE WESTERN HOME. We usually change the title once the book is complete and ready to go to the printer. At this point we are calling the new book THE RUSTIC HOME. In truth that title clearly depicts the nature of the book. If we included the word Western in the title it may eliminate any interest in the book here in the East. But the book is, in reality, about Rustic homes. At the same time, I am including more then log cabins in this book. Many homes today had a rustic room or a rustic porch and I've included many examples of such. But some of the homes I've seen are real shockers. I photographed a rustic building in Montana last week. From the outside it looked just like many other high-end rustic ski chalets. But the interior was ultra modern fifties. Just imagine a George Jetson home and you'll understand. I included this home in the book as an example of the constant and ongoing evolution and interpretation of the term "rustic".

I've seen hundreds of homes all over the country. Many are great and in some way I've loved all of them. But the real innovations are being created by a handful of incredibly talented architects and builders in the Northern Rockies. Builders such as Yellowstone Traditions, OSM, BK Builders and Chris Lohss Construction are pushing the envelope when it comes to innovation and craftsmanship. Further, architect Larry Pearson has established himself as the leading architect in the genre of regional rustic design. His homes are so great that I often have the inclination to bow down before them. This book, however, is not only about the homes of Larry Pearson. Rather an individual is only as great as the people he surrounds himself with. Great credit must be give to the builders of these homes and to the many people who offer their extraordinary talent to create world class homes. I have enjoyed working on this book more then any other I have complete so far. I know you'll enjoy seeing this book as well. Look for it mid October this year.

On just another, completely different thought. I really am sick of all the negative crap in the world. The volcano under Yellowstone National Park will not explode this week killing everything on the planet. A massive meteor is not going to strike the planet this week. A monster tsunami is not going to wipe out the world this month. Aids, Ebola, avian flu and other diseases will take their toll but that's the natural order of things. The second coming of Jesus Christ exists only in the minds of religious fanatics. The media is replete with stories of mass murders, war, and violence and why the Chicago Cubs have not won a world series seven decades. True, all the above can happen but, holy cow, we need some peace in our lives. Frankly, I'm sick of all the negative crap. And so for this month, I'm not watching the news or anything related to all the garbage in the world.

And on another note, whenever I mention any religion or god or any of that stuff I get bombarded with all kinds of religious material via email. A few years ago some guy decided to email me the entire bible. At that time I had a dial-up connection that was slower then our judicial system. A day later I finally had to unplug my computer to get the email to end.

Consider this for just a moment. Religious thoughts and religious materials are written by religious fanatics. This stuff is not written by normal people who have insight or experience in worldly matters. I recall a biblical story about a tribe who marched around a castle blowing their horns. Apparently the castle crumbled to the ground. Religious fanatics interpret this as an act of god. In truth, if a group of experienced engineers examined the building before it fell they might have concluded that it was poorly designed, the foundation was not properly constructed, there were too many people on the scaffolding, the materials used in construction were substandard, or any number of other things. The mindset of who writes the story is the one who records history.

Frankly, there has been more violence and wars and death and misery because of religions then any other cause in the history of the world. I could go on and on about all this stuff but I think that most people understand what I am saying. If you really want to see miracles performed in front of your eyes spend a Saturday night in an emergency room at any urban hospital. Doctors really do bring people back to life. These are miracle workers to me.

At any rate I'm now going back to work. I have a few dozen emails to respond to and Sunday morning I have to hop on another plane for a trip to the West Coast. Tonight I'm taking my wonderful wife out for our twelfth anniversary dinner. Saturday night I'm playing music with my old friend guitarist Tony Cocca. I hope I can still play as my hand is still sore and swollen. My best to all of you, Ralph

PS, Sorry for the short Newsletter but I've got work to do. More later.

It’s once again time to dispel numerous rumors that come to me “on the grapevine”. Here goes: I’m not having a nervous breakdown. I have not been declared “psychotic” (although on occasion I will admit to being a little “strange”…..but probably no more so then other people in the world). I am not going through a divorce. I am not an alcoholic and I don’t use illegal drugs (at least not since the late 1960s). My business is dramatically growing (as is my wonderful daughter). We have not gone out of business. My gallery is still open seven days a week everyday of the year. We do not carry furniture made in China. We are not moving to Alaska, Montana or Key West (although I love those places). And we are not going to open a bowling alley in Wyoming. My health is still good (thank god for Lipitor!). (I will admit, however, that I find myself feeling the ravages of age. I have to have surgery on my right hand next week to clear up some joint problems that’s been plaguing me for awhile and preventing me from adequately playing my bass guitar. Recovery from the surgery, I’ve been told, is about ten days. In truth, I’m down-playing this procedure but it is not without its complications. I hope all goes well). Further, although still very active I find that I can’t (and don’t want to) do the same things I did when I was twenty. There is, however, an interesting old adage that says that if you can still do the same things you did when you were twenty then you weren’t doing very much when you were young). And finally, contrary to one particularly vicious rumor, my book on Adirondack homes, has not been canceled. In truth, finally, my fifteenth book, ADIRONDACK HOME ($60), is now available and on the market! I will be sending out copies to those of you who have ordered it (at the reduced rate of $40 plus shipping) within the next few days. Those who have seen it say it’s my best book yet!

And speaking of books this coming August will see the publication of my hard-cover, color book on the history of hickory furniture! And then in the fall of next year my book titled THE WESTERN HOME, will be on the market! This new book will feature the extraordinary works of architect Larry Pearson of Bozeman, Montana. I’m also hard at work (if you can call what I do work) on another book titled the Romance of the Fireplace! And beyond that I’m working on a few other projects that will sure to please readers interested in rustic themes.

So a few weeks ago I attended a four day musical workshop for professional and advanced musicians in Ohio. Called the Fur Peace Ranch the camp is owned by Jorma Kaukonen of Jefferson Airplane/Hot Tuna fame. Classes are small and taught by world famous musicians. Actually we had about six hours of actual class room stuff and then we play improvisational music until we passed out in the wee hours of the morning. During the Sunday night performance I played a tune on stage with Jorma. For me and many others in the world this guy is our idle. And I can assure everyone that nothing is more intimidating then performing with this guy. Even more difficult is the audience of world class musicians who are listening for every little error. Needless to say that just about every one of the student performers, many professional, working musicians, make mistakes. Some of us are so intimidated that we forget the song all together. That actually happened to me last year. All in all I had a great weekend and look forward to returning to the camp next year.

So right now, as I write this, I’m in Bozeman, Montana. And I’m thinking of the airplane flight out here. We arrived at the airport on time, checked our luggage and proceeded to the gate. Suddenly a severe rain storm came up. Fortunately, it did not delay our departure. As we boarded the plane I was told that I could not carry-on my camera bag. I mentioned that the bag would fit securely under my seat and that I wanted the bag on the plane. “I’m sorry sir. But you cannot bring the bag on board”, said the steward. “I’m sorry, but I want the bag on board”, I politely said. “Sir, you cannot bring the bag on board”. “Look, there’s fifteen thousand dollars worth of camera gear in this bag and I’m not going to let you toss the equipment in the baggage compartment. This is very fragile equipment”, I said. With stress and anger in his voice he said “we are trained to carefully handle all luggage and you cannot have the bag on board. It’s simply too large. If you do not surrender the bag immediately than you cannot board the plane”. Two other airplane employees were now standing very close to me. Considering that my wife and daughter were already on the plane I acquiesced and surrendered my bag. As I turned and walked down the isle I said quietly, just enough for the steward to hear, “go screw yourself”. And I meant it. “What did you say?, asked one of the attendants. “I said “go to school yourself”. Nothing more was said.

As I found my isle a monstrous fat lady insisted that she had reserved the isle seat. My boarding pass, I said, clearly stated that I was to have the isle seat. “Oh, no you don’t” said the behemoth. I wanted to tell her to jump of a bridge and while you’re at it eat another dozen boxes of Twinkies on the way down. But some battles are not worth the effort. I took the window seat and said nothing more.

As I sat in the chair I watched with horror through the window as my camera bag was wheeled to the baggage compartment on a small, uncovered cart. There it sat in the pouring rain for almost five minutes. In time a burly, big guy picked up my bag and tossed it into the hold of the plane. So much, I thought, for carefully trained luggage handlers. I hate airplanes and stewards and stewardesses and baggage handlers and ticket takers and security enforces and just about everything about the airlines. No wonder they are all going out of business. If they would learn to treat people with some respect and realize that it was their job to serve us common folks, and that their customers actually paid their salaries, then traveling in the air might not be such a nightmare. The only people I really will do anything for are the pilots. If they want me to sit on the floor and shut up I will. I want them calm, focused and completely capable of flying the plane. I don’t need an aggravated, tense pilot flying the plane.

So here I am in Bozeman. I was supposed to photograph five different homes over the ten days I was to be here. Unfortunately, problems arouse with two of the homes and my appointments were cancelled. I’ll photograph the homes in mid December.

So what else was I to do with the extra time? I went fly fishing of course …what else? And it was tough! The temperature on my first day on the river was around twenty degrees. My fly line froze on just about every third cast. Around eleven in the morning a monster snow storm came up. It was a true white-out. Winds over fifty miles per hour slammed me. I could not see my hands in front of my face. I found a dense clump of bushes and using them as cover sat on the ground for more then a half hour. In time the storm passed and I went back to fishing. On that day I landed three brown trout over twenty four inches and at least thirty trout in the ten to fourteen inch range. I fished for four straight days. Each day was extraordinary. Deer were everywhere. The bright Montana sky illuminated the gorgeous Rocky Mountains in the Yellowstone Valley just north of Yellowstone National Park. Clear and cold the water in which I was fishing was a spring that ran into the Yellowstone River. I saw no other person for the period I fished. It was an absolutely wonderful time. Each day I landed over thirty fish and released them all!

We spent several days at Chico Hot Springs Lodge. This is an unusual place. Set on the footsteps of serious mountains the lodge boasts an Olympic size natural hot springs pool. I spent time each night soaking in the ninety five degree temperature water. Overhead were the clear mountain skies that as the evenings progressed a full moon shown its brilliant face to anyone wishing to enjoy the mysteries of the celestial heavens. In time clouds covered the sky and the drama of falling snow flakes renewed a sense of awe in me. There are not many places where one can stand in a pool of hot water in nothing more then a bathing suit and enjoy the twenty degree temperatures. Often I could not see the other end of the pool as steam blanketed the air obscuring the view of the mountains. In the daytime those who look will see deer and elk grazing on the mountain side. I also soaked in the pool at six AM each morning. I was the only one there. It was quiet. And peaceful. I relished those moments. And they passed too soon. Departing from the pool is no easy matter. Wet hair quickly freezes and steam rises from hot bodies. Wet towels stiffen. And ones feet freeze in moments to the metal stairs as you ascend quickly through the cold. But it’s a great way to start the day.

The food at Chico Lodge is five star. Everything is delicious. Reservations are made significantly in advance to insure seating. We ate there several times. But I also enjoyed the down and dirty cowboy bar a few miles down the road. The ambiance of the setting added to the uniqueness of the experience. Full of mounted taxidermy, old photos, bad art and branding irons each morning I sat near a group of elderly cowboys who were decked-out in full western regalia. The talk of the present hunting season, how much the locals hated the reintroduction of the wolves, the price of gas and the mechanics of changing a carburetor on an 87 Chevy pick-up truck caught my ear. The only problem with taverns and bars in Montana is that they still allow smoking throughout all hours of the day and night. Because there are no TV’s in the inexpensive rooms at Chico I had planned on watching a few TV programs in the bar. I did not because, frankly, tobacco smoke “reeks” beyond comprehension and kills people.

Last night (Sunday, 11-19-05) was one of my “personal” nights. Once a month I make a pig out of myself. Instead of eating correctly, I stopped at the local gas station deli and bought a pound of bologna, a loaf of rye bread, a small jar of mayonnaise and a bag of potato chips. I sat by myself in my room and made a pig of myself. It’s OK to do that once in a while.

My only concerns regarding Chicago Lodge this past weekend was the annual Cat/Griz event. It’s the largest event in Montana. The annual football game between the two rival Montana universities brings out strange behavior in the many fans most of whom decided to party at the tavern at Chico. On both evenings fans consumed far more then their fair share of libations and succeeded in keeping up us old people till late in the night. Further, the obviously newly wedded couple in the room directly above me certainly seemed to enjoy the physical pleasures of each others company throughout the night as they pounded on walls and moaned and groaned till the sun came up! I could only smile as I sat next to them at breakfast in the dining hall.

At any rate I completely enjoyed my visit to Montana. I photographed three homes designed by Larry Pearson. Stunning in their design the photos of the homes came out well and will appear in print next fall. As always I was well treated and welcomed into the inner workings of a complex office. But in truth homes are not the sole product of individual architects. It takes an enormous effort from hundreds of very skilled craftsmen and women to complete any of the projects I’ve seen so far. Credit must be given to those who interpret the drawings, acquire the materials, build the homes and on and on. Hopefully, I can present the homes I’ve photographed to show their warmth, uniqueness and originality. Tragically, and I’m being completely honest here, photography can never do justice to the “soul” of a home. Photography is nothing more than a photographer placing their personality into a very brief moment of time. My photos are nothing more then my interpretation (and my personality) of the work and lives of others. Photography is not an exacting art. I wish it was but it is not. To explain further consider a photo of a grand mountain range. Photography can never be as dramatic as the mountains themselves. It cannot show the “life” or the moodiness or the drama inherent in nature. But we do the best we can with what tools we have available to us. Nonetheless, I still believe that photography is nothing less then a magical process fully capable of indulging individuals in a mesmerizing artistic process.

Here’s a related thought. What I find hard to adjust to is the realities of many human endeavors. Studying my own behavior I often marvel at my (and others) cavalier behavior when viewing art works of any form. Many paintings (or any other sophisticated effort) is often the result of enormous effort on the part of an individual. Some paintings take months to complete. And, as viewers, we often spend only a few seconds or minutes “looking” at such works. Tragically, very few of us comprehend or appreciate that when we view a retrospective or major collection of an individuals work we fail to comprehend that it took a complete lifetime of effort to create the works before us. Considering my own efforts it really does take an entire year and the effort of many people to create one of my books. And I hope that when looking at the works of others we can all stop for just a second to appreciate the enormous effort it takes to create.

During this trip to Montana we took another few days off and traveled down to Jackson Hole in Wyoming. Unfortunately, the short cut through Yellowstone Park was closed and we were forced to take the long route through Idaho. Once in Jackson we spent almost an entire day at the National Museum of Wildlife Art and then pondered at the huge elk herd wintering in the Elk Refuge just on the outskirts of town.

Each morning my daughter and I arose before sunrise and traveled a few miles north of town in hopes of seeing wildlife. On one open field I noticed two moose traversing a mountain about a half mile from us. We watched them for several minutes. Then my daughter asked if I could get them closer to the car. So I rolled down the window and quietly said “com’on, come on over here… big guys”. The two moose stopped running, look at us and started trotting straight toward our vehicle. In time they came within twenty yards of us and stopped. Then one by one they came within five yards of us, looked at us straight on and then crossed the road on which we were parked. “Daddy, how did you get them to do that?”, asked my six year old daughter. “Its magic” was my only reply. Such events like that are what I call magical moments. My daughter and I will never forget it. Its moments like those that make living worthwhile.

Of course, neither my wife nor my sister-in-law, who was traveling with us, believed our story of the two moose. They wanted to see photographs. We had none because the cameras were still in the motel room. But every once in a while my daughter and I look at each other and smile. “Remember the two moose?” we say to each other. We both smile and let out a gleeful laugh. It’s one of those personal moments that makes my life on the planet extraordinary. Neither I nor my daughter will ever forget it. I hope all parents can have a “moose” moment with their children. The world would be a better place if we spent more time with our kids.

Here’s another strange event that bears reckoning. As I get older I found that I occasionally “mumble” to myself. There is an old Blues tune that’s been going around in my head for years now. “I just want my wife to come home, She left me standing all along”…or something like that. I occasionally mumble lines to that song and other things like “What do I have to do now” out loud. And I hope no one hears me. One day I was in an office and another gentleman started to talk to himself as well. Actually, it was quite an interesting conversation but we were just talking to ourselves and not to each other. I had no idea what he was saying. Shortly someone came in the office and asked what we had been talking about. The three of us just looked at each other for several seconds and then the third person just said “Ooh, never mind” and left the room. It’s probably my inability to write about this experience but when I think about it it was quite comical. What can I say…life is strange once in a while.

There is a small, exceptional rustic design firm for sale just south of me in the Woodstock, New York area. Romancing the Woods (that’s the company name) has been around for more then a decade. Owner Marvin Davis, now a senior statesman, wants to retire. His company designs and constructs really great rustic gazebos, pergolas, trellises, outdoor cedar benches, and rustic architectural elements of all sorts. My book RUSTIC GARDEN ARCHITECTURE featured many photos of their work. His creations enhance many very high end homes and commercial establishments including the Rockefeller Center, Disneyland, and more places then you can shake a stick at. If you’re looking to jump into a ready and waiting, very successful rustic company I suggest that you call Marvin Davis at 845 246 1020. See his stuff at http://www.rtw-inc.com/home2.html This is a very special company and the right person will not be disappointed in both the quality and profitability of the company.

This is a short newsletter. I’ve got a ton of stuff to do and the phone keeps ringing. I promise I’ll write more stuff in the future. My best to all of you, Ralph

PS. We had a great dinner at Jill and Brian Gauti’s home on Thanksgiving. Jill is the singer and Brian is the lead guitar player in the Ralph Kylloe Band. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. It makes sense to me and I truly thank all the gods ever created by humanity for my blessings. I lead a great life and although I complain a lot I consider myself a very lucky person. But I also give myself some credit as well. I could just lie around on a couch all day, do nothing and die of a heart attack when I’m fifty nine. Individual effort brings meaning to our personal lives.

PSS. Although people think that they are far more creative when they use drugs such as cocaine or marijuana. Recently two groups of people were given IQ tests. One group scored within the normal range. The second group, the drug users, scored ten points lower while they were on the effects of the drugs. Keep this in mind.

PSSS. I’ll be back in Montana the middle of December for a week and then it’s off to Chicago for the Holidays. In January, I’ll be in California and Oregon to finish up another book on Western Homes. February we’ll be in Orlando for my daughters school vacation and then in April we plan on spending a week in Key West for spring tarpon fishing and goofing off. I need it.

PSSSS. Winter is here. Snow is on the ground. It’s cold and dark. I’m chilled to my bones. I need a vacation.

PSSSSS. Are you aware of the fact the only 7% of the worlds population owns their own home?

PSSSSSS. And talk about hosts, on average there are about a hundred trillion bacteria living on and in our bodies. With that thought in mind I’m going to wash my hands more often, in fact, right now!

PSSSSSSS. Here’s the latest review of my book ADIRONDACK HOME

FIVE STARS - "Dream Away The Hours . . .", November 15, 2005

Reviewer: C. Anderson "LodgeLover" (Oregon City, Oregon) -

"...imagining yourself in the homes pictured in this magnificent book. Again, Kylloe has outdone himself capturing the pure essence of what a true home in the Adirondacks is all about. No author has a better technique on showing the reader all the rustic beauty that’s out there far beyond our imaginations, by taking us on his personal home tours into some of the most gorgeous beautiful Adirondack homes, most on lakes. He includes Adirondack history and again shows us in many of the homes the rustic furniture and decorating styles that depicts the true meaning of what life must be like for some to own these truly magnificent homes."

PSSSSSSSSSS. Keep in mind that everyday here in America one hundred and eighteen (118) individuals are killed in automobile crashes.

Thursday, October 27, 2005

Greetings to you all!

Last night I had dinner with my daughter at the local Olive Garden. Michele, my wife, was out of town and Lindsey wanted some fresh food. I think she was tired of the jelly sandwiches I had fed her the past few days. Artist Veronica Nemethy and her significant other Peter, were to meet us but had not yet arrived. To appease my six year old daughter I brought along a bag full of her 'Bratz" dolls and accessories. After we were seated at our booth Lindsey spread out her dolls on the table and then took off for the washroom. As I sat alone I arranged her toys and waited for the server. Moments later a group of burly bikers sat down at the table next to me. As they glared at me the largest one finally spoke up and loudly shouted "I really love your doll set. You look good in pink!" Needless to say that the entire crowd in the restaurant broke into laughter. I could only respond with a blushed smile and a "Thank you!" Sometimes you just have to go along with the moment and realize that some of the situations we get ourselves into really can be interpreted as both humorous and strange! And we all do dumb things sometimes. It's best to look for the humor in things. Under most circumstances humor involving you is not a personal attack on your character. Its usually someone just trying to have some fun so don't take things personally.

Here's a classic example. I was walking down Duval Street in Key West a few years back. In front of an open air, street bar I looked down and saw a twenty dollar bill on the side walk. As I reached down to pick it up the bill suddenly shot from my hands. Someone had tied a thin nylon line onto the bill and at the moment anyone went to pick it up a patron at the bar pulled it from their excited hands. And, of course, the entire bar of a hundred of so people broke into hysterics. And it stands to reason that they had done this to many people that sunny afternoon in Key West. What else could I do other then the laugh at the situation? I certainly felt foolish but a little humor can get one through most situations.

Further, strange things happen to us all and I'm convinced that an army of guardian angels watches over me as I struggle from bizarre experience to more bizarre experiences.

Two years ago my band (The Ralph Kylloe Band) was playing at the annual Halloween costume party at San Soucis restaurant very near my home in Lake George. I arrived at the bar early. I was dressed in full Klingnon Warrior regalia. And I must say that I looked good! I walked into the tavern and passed many people on my way to the office and rest rooms. Near the back stood two "really big guys" who appeared to have spent the day at the bar. I mean both these guys were big! So with passionate Klingnon attitude I raised my voice and shouted "Out of my Way"! I was shocked when they parted thus allowing me access to the restroom. Once I completed my visit I turned around and there stood the biggest of the two guys standing by the door. I had no idea what his intentions were but from the looks of things I was at a significant disadvantage. Fully aware that this guy could crush me with one blow (he knew it as well) I filled my chest with air and shouted as loud as I could……"It is the right of all Klingons to die in battle. I die tonight with honor!" Honest to god I sounded good! Worf would be proud! The big guy could do nothing more then explode with laughter as did I. I was actually very convincing! We both left the rest room and I bought the two guys a beer. The two guys stayed for the party and had a great time.

Here's another story that you may find interesting.

A few years ago I exhibited my "goodies" at an antique show at the pier in New York City. After the show closed on Friday night I wandered down from the pier to Times Square about a mile or so away. The receipts from the day were in my pocket. The walk included dark streets and strange characters. In the middle of one block three big guys appeared from a dark gangway. The dim street light offered little solace. Harm was in my path. Trouble was at hand. My blood pressure rose. Now clearly visible one man had a stocking cap pulled down near his eyes. Each wore jewelry and baggy street clothes. Their muscles bulged.

Twenty feet away now I acted without thinking. I walked right up to the largest man and like a fool said the following: "You guys really aggravate me." Dead silence. Looking down at me he asked "Why's that?" "I have to have all kinds of treatments and medications just to keep my hair from falling out….you shave off all your hair and you guys get all the women!"

Five seconds of dead silence followed.

Moments later the three of them broke into riotous laughter. I laughed with them.

"Get the hell out of here" the big one said. As I wondered down the street I could still hear them laughing at the stupid little white guy that just nearly got his head crushed. In time the streets brightened and the din of civilization ricocheted off the walls of concrete valleys. I took a cab back to my truck. I'm certain an army of angels watched over me throughout the entire evening.

A disclaimer is warranted here. I do not encourage anyone to try the above mentioned "stunts". I am responsible for my actions only and I do not encourage anyone to indulge in the above activities. It's a sad day when people have to include disclaimers when relating their adventures to others! So be it.

I've done lots of really dumb things in my life (probably no more then everyone else) and have managed to survive most of it. My wife says she can't take me anywhere.

Right now I'm sitting at a desk in the ballrooms at the Queensbury Hotel about a half hour from my gallery. It's the annual regional book fair and more then eighty authors and books sellers are exhibiting their works. Book buyers (lookers) are funny people. They'll stand at my exhibit and look at every page on every book and take up a half hour of viewing time. They "accidentally" put creases in the pages, drop the books on the floor, crack the bindings and then leave my table disorganized. Most of the people here today are lookers. I'm selling my big books for the full retail amount of $60. Several say they like the books but plan on buying them at Amazon because they're cheaper. Others mention that they'll wait until the books come out in paperback and others say they'll check them out from the library. Other people think I have a ghost writer and purchase my photos from architects and decorators from around the country. I am polite to everyone except the lady who insisted that the chair I was sitting on was made of plastic and not real wood. On and on she went. I remained politically correct and socially acceptable. Frankly, however (and I've said this on many occasions), I hoped she would soon be abducted by aliens and subject to unending and merciless torture.

On several occasions thought the day I just wanted to be home and never go out into the public again. I should live permanently in a cave. I always seem to attract miscreants and weirdoes (probably because I am one myself!).

I incurred the ire of several people here at the book fair today. Several programs are also being presented on how to get a book published. Because I am fairly well known as a writer/photographer of books in the area I get lots of people asking me questions about how to get stated. Several people went on and on about the book they are going to write. I usually stop them after a few sentences and tell them there are two sorts of people in the world…….. people who say their going to write books and people who write them. "Which one are you? I ask. Some people are offended by my question. One ladies husband nearly clobbered me because he thought I had offended his wife's integrity. Talk is cheap. Just sit down at your typewriter, turn off the phone and the god damned TV and write the book. How difficult is that? Some people can't believe that I say that kind of stuff to them. I often wonder how some people can maintain a sense of self worth when they fail to at least try to achieve their own potential.

I am always surprised at how many people want my autograph or want their photos made with me. I never joke with people who request such things and always accommodate them even when I'm eating dinner. But the real truth is that all I really do is press a few buttons on a camera and write a few paragraphs about homes and furniture. Consider this, more then eighty books have been written about Pablo Picasso and I bet that not one person can name the author of any of those books. When I'm dead and gone I'll be long forgotten. And that's how it should and will be. The people whose work I feature in my books are nothing less than brilliant. They will be remembered because they made the world a better place. Some are better then others but when I'm spending time with Barney or Randy Holden or Jimmy Covert or Veronica Nemethy….I am literally awestruck. These people are far more talented then the average person in the world today. I have profound respect for them and it thrills me to say that I know them personally and have had the opportunity to spend time with them. I feel compelled to give credit to those that deserve it. And I'm also in awe of those people who have come up from no where, developed their talents and have done their best to break into the big time. Many never make it. But there is honor in trying. The process has its own intrinsic rewards. People who just vegetate and are unproductive are a waste. They should be used as organ donors or for medical experiments. I'm not kidding.

I sat at the book fair for about four hours. I answered many questions, shook hands with a bunch of people I'll never see again and sold four books. Once I calmed down I "plunked away" on my lap top and listened to my neighbors talk how they wanted to write a book about this or that. I worked for about three hours and completed several pages of text while my neighbors accomplished nothing. Time is a very valuable commodity. Use it wisely. Time can never be replaced. And you never know when your time runs out.

I guess, however, that I'm not as strange as I make myself out to be. I work hard, pay all my bills on time (including $8,000 a year for health insurance for myself and my family), and have lots of friends (and even many that feel we're best friends and I have no idea who they are!).

While at the book fair a man I recognized came up and asked when my new book will be out. I mentioned within the week. He handed me his business card and I noticed that he was a dentist. He had also been in my gallery several times and owned a number of my books. Needing a filling replaced I asked him if he could fit me into his busy appointment schedule. The following morning (Monday morning) I got a call from his office telling me that if I came over immediately the dentist could see me. So I dropped everything, locked my gallery and drove over to his office. Once there the secretary handed me several pages that had to be completed before I could be admitted as a patient.

Now, in truth, I'm really tired of giving out gobs of information about my personal life. Why does a dentist need to know if I'm married or divorced? Why does he want to know how many kids I have? How will that help him to replace a filling in my mouth? On and on it went. More questions and more questions. Then it came to diseases. I don't have any diseases and I don't take any medications. I casually mentioned that to the receptionist. "We'll sir, you must clearly state that on the forms." One of the questions asked for specific information on my genitals. How in the hell is such information going to help the god damned dentist to replace a filling in my tooth. "I don't have any diseases" I again told the arrogant woman behind the counter. "Sir, please answer all the questions on the form". Further into the list of questions they wanted to know the name of my bank, my social security number, my employer, my credit card numbers and on and on. How will that help the god damned dentist? Then they wanted me to fill out a privacy form. They informed me that they would share all my info with other health organizations and would notify me by mail, telephone and email when any future appointments would be necessary. They also wanted to have an OK to leave messages on my answering machine. "Look, lady, I'll pay for the services right here, on the spot and as soon as the dentist has done his job. You don't have to send me a bill. I'll pay you for any services immediately". "Sir, we still need the name of your bank"

Frankly, I'm sick of the invasion of my privacy. Everyday I hear of dozens of people who have had their identities stolen and suddenly find themselves deep in debt for things they did not buy. I don't want to pay for someone else's vacations. I don't want more sales people calling. I'm sick of the spams and scams. I just want a filling in my god damned tooth replaced. Why is that so hard to understand?

Maybe I'm getting old. Maybe I should see a therapist or maybe I'm just sticking up for myself. Sometimes people just rub me the wrong way and if I don't stick up for myself no one else will.

I walked out of the dentist's office without seeing the dentist. . Screw them. I'm not going to fill out more forms. I'm sick of it. There went an hour of my time. I'm certain that the receptionist will tell the dentist that I was rude and uncooperative and I'm certain that he'll never come back to my gallery. So be it…I couldn't care less. Its no wonder that dentists have the highest suicide rate of any professionals. No wonder they have high level of alcoholism and drug abuse. I don't think there is anything more degrading then having to lie flat on your back or nearly upside down and having some weirdo guy stick his hand in your mouth. What kind of a person would want to stick their hand in another person's mouth all day long anyway? If they were really interested in medicine and helping others they would have gone to medical school. I hate all dentists. I really do. I just wish I could find someone to replace my lost filling.

So on this day I am proposing a revolution. When ever I go to another doctors office I want certain questions answered before I subject myself to their so-called talents. How is their health? Are they HIV positive? Do they have any communicable diseases? Do they have genital herpes? How many times have they been sued? What schools did they go to? How were their grades? How long have they been in business? Have they ever preformed certain procedures before? How many times? Have they ever been fired from a position? What is the name of their insurance company? Name of their bank? Are they married? Divorced? Credit information? All this and many other questions only seem fair to me. Am I being unreasonable here? I don't think so. My wife says I'm just scared……………………but I ignore her thoughts on this subject.

On another, lighter, subject……

The Anglers Club of New York has proven to be quite an experience for me. Once a month the club hosts a dinner of some sort. This past week the event was titled "Fly Fishing at War". More then a hundred members attended the dinner held at the clubs old brownstone just off Wall Street in NYC. After cocktails and dinner several club members got up and read letters from Club Members who had written about their fly fishing experiences as soldiers during the first world war. It was quite moving. One soldier, a paratrooper, was more frightened about breaking his fly rod then being shot by Germans as he jumped from an airplane behind enemy lines. The membership of the club is made up of mega-impressive people who are described as the "Captains of Industry" here in America. The club is "men only" and members are only allowed to discuss fly fishing when at the club. It was a breath of really fresh air to only talk about fishing with people who know what they are doing. I look forward to a long association with my fellow anglers.

And so I'm sitting here thinking about my newsletter. All I do is complain. All I ever talk about is the stuff that irritates me. Why in gods name do people read this stuff? Why do I write it? Don't I have better things to do then just complain all day long? One would think from reading my "Newsletters" that I really do lead a horrible life. It appears that all I do is walk around all day and look at the "seedy" side of humanity. Yea, I do… but I really do love my life. In truth, all I do is have fun all the time. I'm not kidding. I really do. Sounds strange, doesn't it? But it's the truth. I may not be where I wanted to be but I sure am in a lot better place now then I used to be. Happy is the man who enjoys his work…..so says some oriental sage. Well, it's true. Honest to god if you don't like what you're doing, if there is no fun in your life, if you can't enjoy the day, if you don't like the people you have to be with then, by all means, go do something else. And if you don't understand this then go take a hot bath or something. Holy cow, have some fun will you please. At the same time we all have responsibilities. Mortgages, kids in college, bills, etc. But sometime in your life it's very necessary to do something you really love, something that just knocks your socks off. In truth, passionate fun just doesn't happen over night. Real joy and pleasure comes from the cultivation of our own selves and our own talents. I really love playing my bass guitar, casting my fly rod, making photos and crafting a great sentence. (My favorite is spending time with my daughter!) This stuff just doesn't happen overnight. The cultivation of ones self brings the greatest joy imaginable.

In truth, I really don't believe that I've ever said anything original in my ramblings. The stuff I write about is all common sense and common knowledge. All this stuff has been said before by people far smarter then I.

All right, let's have some fun right now! Let's see, this Saturday night my band is playing at a great Halloween party where we'll have more fun then I ever thought possible. Next week I'm going to Ohio to spend five days with my buddies from the band Hot Tuna/Jefferson Airplane. We'll play music from eight in the morning until two in the morning. Rumor has it that a few of the guys from the Grateful Dead might show up to "Jam" with us. Then on the ninth of November my family and I will fly to Bozeman, Montana and spend two weeks photographing the greatest rustic homes in the world and "smoozing" with their famous owners. I'll also go fly fishing just about everyday for a few hours, eat great meals and stay in either fabulous homes or high-end resorts. And, get this, its all expenses paid and any money I spend is completely tax deductible! Yellowstone National Park will still be open and it's a great time of the year there and, if possible, I just might take a few runs down a completely private ski slope. Then at Thanksgiving we just might go to Key West or Manhattan for the holidays. Christmas will see us in Chicago where I'll play the blues with a few famous musician friends till dawn and then in January I'll be back in Montana and then off to Oregon for a few days to photograph another great home.

February will see my daughter's school vacation and we'll spend a week or so in Key West. We'll be back in Key West for another vacation in April for a week of very serious fly fishing for hundred pound tarpon with my good friend Keith Short, a fly fishing guide from Wyoming.

And don't, not even for one second, think that I don't appreciate and love my life. I really do thank all gods of all religions ever invented by the human race for the life I lead. No one ever had a greater life then I! I've been incredibly lucky but I've also worked hard for what I've achieved and I greatly appreciate every minute I'm alive. I hope others feel that way about their time on this planet. Take care, Ralph

PS. I have been told by my publisher that my books are presently in the warehouse in Utah and will be shipped to me Thursday, October 27, 2005. I should receive them within the week and will mail them out to people who have preordered them. If you want a signed, first edition copy please email me. The first fifty copies will be $40 each plus shipping. After that the books will be $60 each. R

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

I've said this before. I hate airplanes. Actually that's not exactly correct. It's the people that fly on them that drive me nuts. So let me back up a bit and I'll start my ramblings with things that happened a few weeks ago.

I spent the past eight days fly fishing in Alaska. The first flight out from Albany, 6AM, to Chicago was OK. The flight was not full and mercifully I found three unoccupied seats and took a nap for the duration of the flight. The flight from Chicago to Seattle was the stuff that writers and observers of human behavior love to talk about.

Humans are a funny lot. We crave power and we love to be able to influence things. At any and every opportunity we love to be able to affect the lives of others. We are in truth, hungry of power. It is, it seems a basic human need. And, very often in a negative way. Here's a classic example. People who use public phones are generally on the line for about a minute and a half. When there are other people waiting to use the same public phone the present user stays on the line for almost five minutes. Interesting, isn't it? We crave power even under the most unlikely circumstances.

And so I boarded the plane in Chicago. Because I was to sit in the last row I was just about first on the plane. After others were seated in the rear another passenger wandered down the isle toward the middle of the plane. He was pulling a wheeled suitcase behind him. Once at his seat he unzipped his suitcase, pulled out a new tie and neatly tied the garment around his neck. He then pulled out a new suit jacket and put it on. He then rearranged the overhead compartment and neatly placed his bag on the shelf. He then opened his brief case and pulled out some papers. And all the while a hundred or so people stood behind him anxiously waiting for him to get out of the god damned isle. His little display of "power and influence" took about eight minutes and raised the blood pressure of everyone on the plane. Everyone hated the guy. Frankly, I wanted to go up and clobber him in the head but I controlled myself. I am always impressed at how completely inconsiderate we often are of others. It is a tragic human weakness that we all have to live with.

The rest of the flight to Anchorage was non-eventful. I finished reading another book about bear attacks while on the plane. I do this every time I fish in Alaska to remind myself of the dangers of having bears in close contact with humans.

I have been elected to membership in the Anglers Club of New York (which is a big deal if you're into fly fishing). Four gentlemen from the Anglers Club came along with me on the trip and met me at the lodge in Cooper Landing. They had never been to Alaska before and I'm certain they were skeptical about my reports of extraordinary fishing. Unfortunately I was not able to fish with them as only four people are allowed in one boat. I was assigned to another boat with my favorite guide Fred Telleen and saw my "buddies" only a few times at breakfast and dinner. In truth, they were all "unique" characters and I felt immediately comfortable with them when we saw each other.

One day I fished with a different couple that had never been to Alaska and had never fly fished before, which, in truth, if you have a good guide, is no big deal. Unfortunately the guide failed to give them proper instructions and they struggled throughout the day. Frankly, however, the woman drove me nuts. Every time she caught a fish, which was quite often, she talked to the fish in obnoxious "baby talk". "Oh my little baby, you're so cute. I just love you!" On and on she went. She also had a laugh that was really irritating. She also drove me nuts when she landed monstrous rainbow one right after another. I'm not kidding when I say that she landed four rainbows over thirty inches each. She also landed at least fifteen trout that were about twenty four inches and a ton of fish in the twenty inch range. Her technique was terrible. She left excessive slack in the line and had terrible casting technique. And with each fish landed she kept it out of the water too long and talked her horrible baby talk and squealed like a pig at the sight of a new fish. And her poor husband hardly caught anything all day. I felt so bad for him that whenever I got a fish on the line I handed him my rod and allowed him to reel in the fish (which he greatly appreciated!)

But people always have choices in their lives. I could have let the woman's demeanor really bother me or I could have just gone along with the experience and recognize that people are different from me and just not let things like that bother me. I chose the latter. I did try to explain to her that many advanced fly fishermen in the world today go their entire lives and never catch a trout above twenty inches. These were truly fish of a lifetime. She never did realize how extraordinary her day was and like an old song that plays constantly in ones head I can still hear her baby talk and high pitch laughter. I hope that she fishes sometime in the lower 48 states and catches just a few ten inch trout. Maybe then she'll realize how extraordinary her day on the Kenai River in Alaska really was!

Fishing throughout the week was extraordinary. I landed several rainbows above thirty inches and lost many more due to the strength of the fish and the fast running water. I also landed many fish in the twenty four-twenty-eight inch range. And keep in mind that these are huge, fat, football shaped fish! Further, this was strictly "catch and release" fishing and that we use nothing but tiny barbless hooks. On average I landed between 50 and a hundred fish a day. And almost all of them were over eighteen inches. We saw huge Brown Bears just about every day. I politely kept my distance and was always conscious that these waters and land belong to them. I did not argue ownership and politely moved when they wandered too close.

Strange, I was lonely while I was there. I fished with different people every day and didn't spend as much time as I wanted with the four gentlemen from the Anglers Club. I always departed for fishing in the absolute darkness of the morning and they chose to leave later than I, thus returning late in the evening as well. As I sat alone at dinner one night I wished I was a stronger person. I wished that things had turned out differently in my life. I wished that I had achieved my potential in my life. I felt that I was never able to unlock my talents. I felt like a failure. I felt that I had missed the entire purpose in life. And all of that is hard to live with. But so be it. You dance with the girl you came with. While at Gwins Lodge later that week, I was having dinner with the four individuals from the Anglers Club. It was a very busy evening and the restaurant was full. Our waitress brought the wrong diner to one of my guests. He, of course complained. "Make the best of it", she said and promptly left to serve other guests. It was a very noble and brave thing to say. Certainly an unusual comment coming from a waitress. But she was right. I vowed to personally make the best of it. Life is not easy sometimes. All of life is a series of mountains and valleys. The following morning I landed a thirty two inch Rainbow Trout within ten minutes of being on the water! How quickly life changes! (I'll have photos of the fish for my next newsletter!)

I did meet with a rustic furniture builder while I was there. He had left a note on my cabin door and I met him the following night about an hour south of where I was staying. Greg Berryman (Alaskatwig@webtv.net) showed me a great armchair he had built. Comfortable and sturdy the chair was carefully constructed. Greg is one of the many great undiscovered rustic artists in the country and no doubt will take his place in the rustic art world as time goes on. Check him out!

The trip back to Albany was a nightmare. I traveled more then thirty hours and didn't sleep a wink. Anchorage to Seattle was OK but the red -eye flight to Newark was horrible. A full plane, every other person was either a snorer or serious gas-passer. The worst was the gentleman who stood in the isle and felt the need to lean over me to talk to the individual in the window seat. To me there is something very unsettling about having some guys pant zipper ten inches from my face. Some people are not bothered by that but when he leaned heavily on my shoulders I had to speak up. Once we landed a woman swung her handbag too hard and clobbered me in the head. Moments later a guy dropped his heavy suitcase from the overhead compartment and nearly knocked me unconscious. Neither of the two people apologized.

The flight back to Albany and then the drive back to Lake George was exhausting. I had to stop on the side of the road to nap for a few minutes for fear of running off the highway. Once in Lake George I was given the details of the cruise ship tragedy that happened here on the lake. Twenty people had died when a tourist boat overturned. The town is still in shock.

We'll probably be going back to Alaska a year from now so if you want more information let me know.

Business continues to grow here in Lake George. The walk-in traffic slows down at this time of the year but we still do a tremendous business from the many long-time customers we've dealt with throughout the years. One or twice a week I receive phone calls from numerous people throughout the country who want to either start or expand their rustic furniture business. I respond to each query personally and most of the time I'd like to think that my suggestions are helpful. Here's my latest email to an entrepreneur on the West Coast.

"Hi, Thanks for the phone call and email regarding your furnishings and fishing.

I've looked at your website and it's very impressive. All the pieces appear well made and well designed. I could go on and on about the forms and designs but in short furniture not only needs to be aesthetically pleasing but very functional and comfortable as well. For instance, are the chair seats form-fitted (molded) or are they straight boards? How comfortable are they?

But here's the bottom line. I exhibited at the Lake Home and Cabin Show last April in Minneapolis. There were about three hundred or so exhibitors at the show. At least six of the dealers were selling peeled log furniture. All of the furniture in their individual booths was very well made and reasonably priced. Right now you are doing exactly the same thing that literally hundreds of other builders are doing around the country. You have to ask your self, "What am I doing differently that makes me stand out from the crowd of other builders all wanting a share of the market?" Right now you are just one of hundreds. How do you plan on distinguishing yourself? Right now you are producing machine-made, mass produced furniture. If you continue in this direction you'll wind up probably making a living but you'll fail to break into the art world. What do you want out of your life? And when you answer this question be honest with your self. How do you want to be remembered in this world when you're dead and gone?

So you have some choices to make. Do you want to be artists or factory owners? At some point you'll have to "step up to the plate" and take a swing at greatness. I really hope you do. Believe me when I say that the public is ready and waiting for great art to appear on the market. It's just a matter of people taking the time to do things correctly and to create great art. Success is there for the taking. And the doors are open for all who have the drive to want to stand out from the crowd.

You should review the pieces of handmade furniture on my website and in my books. You have access to great materials in your part of the world. And you should really spend some time in museums looking at why some furniture is in a museum and others of the same period are in second hand/used furniture shops. I'll be more then happy to talk with you at any time and please don't hate my guts for saying the above. It's the same advice that was given to me many years ago. Frankly, I wouldn't know you if you walked up to me on the street. It's not personal. So please keep in touch. Ralph PS. The six builders of peeled log furniture sold very little of anything at the Minneapolis show. I sold out my booth and went home with a pocket full of checks. And I continue to take orders from people I met at that show. My furniture sold because it was original, unique and very much a part of the art world. I mention all this because the public really loves great stuff and will pay almost any price for functional art work. Ralph

PSS. Please excuse any misspelled or incorrect words. I'm running out for band practice right now. We have a gig tonight and will probably play until three in the morning."

Further, people often ask me about pricing. How much should they charge? Here's a brief primer on pricing.

There are three ways to determine what you should charge for your merchandise.

1. Comparative Pricing. Just check out what others are charging for similar items. This is actually dangerous because we often think that our pieces are as good as others in the field. But comparative pricing is almost the standard norm in the real world. If you want to establish your self then charge less then what everyone else is charging for similar items. This is called "predatory pricing". What you are doing by charging less is actually buying "market share". You want a fair share of the market and you'll do it by cheap pricing. You'll make up for the low margins by selling more of your stuff. You'll make a living by volume and later on, once you've established your self you can raise your prices. This is standard business practice in the real world.

2. Cost Plus. This is also a standard practice. Figure out how many hours you worked on something as well as the cost of materials. It is not uncommon for craftspeople to charge $25 per hour for their labor. Times that (or whatever you think you're worth) times the hours spent and then add in your costs of materials. And that's what you try to sell your items for!

3. Value Added. This is tricky but almost all artists and creative types use this method to price their creations. Here's an example. A computer company in Boston was having a terrible time getting their new software to do what it was designed to do. They had spent months preparing the package and could not get it to market because of flaws. They hired a friend of mine to trouble -shoot the program. Within two hours he solved the problem. The program was then offered to the market and within a month the company had profited by two million dollars because of the program. So what should the expert charge? He normally charges $100 per hour but in this case the company was able to make an enormous profit in a very short time because of the skills of the trouble shooter. He charged them $50,000. The company happily paid!

Artists work within this format as well. What is a painting or a piece of handmade furniture worth? It's worth only what someone else is willing to pay for it. If something sells immediately then it was sold too cheap. If a piece has sat around for months on end and no one has offered anything for it then it's too expensive. Businesses, especially entry level businesses, need cash flow. If you've had something for a long time and it has not sold then lower the price and get rid of it. You can build something better at your next attempt. Don't ever think that your stuff is as good or better then the next guy. That is a very dangerous trap. The public will decide the value of your merchandise. I talk with people very often that say that their stuff is as good or better then a certain established artist and that their piece should be the same price. Don't ever think this way. A long established artist has a significant reputation and their offerings are usually of very high quality.

Here are a few other suggestions that may be helpful to "budding" artists. You need to place your creations in front of people. They won't see it if it's sitting in your basement. Send photos of your stuff to the local newspapers, magazines and book writers. They love human interest stories and are always looking to offer someone serious free PR who does interesting and original work. Further, there are hundreds of craft shows around the country that are attended by thousands of potential buyers. You should exhibit at as many of these shows as possible. Advertising is very tricky. And it's expensive. If you choose to advertise then be prepared for the long haul. Advertising once does not do it. You must appear over and over again. To determine where to advertise call the publication and ask for a media kit. Don't talk with a salesperson… just get a media kit. This kit gives you all the info you'll need to know. And if you decide to advertise always negotiate with the sales person. They will always come down in price for first time advertisers. And once you start to get customers always ask how they heard about you. This will help in the long run to determine the best direction for your advertising budget. The best advertising, however, is word of mouth. Stand by your furniture, guarantee it, make free deliveries and provide great service. Reputations are critical. Do what's right. Don't get greedy. And don't be afraid to work on short margins. The more furniture you have out there the more customers will find you. Good salesmanship is also critical. Look people right in the eye and be personal. Be proud of your work. And don't be afraid to take chances.

Here's something really critical. Don't make copies of the work of others. You'll look foolish, incur the wrath of others and will eventually go down the drain. You can be influenced by the work of others but you'll never make it to the big leagues by either being mediocre or copying the work of others.

I could go on and on about all this stuff but this is the basics. And this is all standard stuff. I'm not saying anything new here. I hope something I've mentioned here works for those in business. It does for me. My best to all of you, Ralph

PS. I was verbally attacked at the last Rustic Furniture Fair here in New York for stating who I believe are the real "shakers and movers" in the east coast rustic arts scene. I'll publicly state again that I believe that Barney Bellinger, Randy Holden, Chris Wager, Jerry Farrell and Peter Winter are the best in the business. Wayne Ignatuck and Steve Chisholm are also doing really great stuff and are making a mark in the rustic arts. All this of course is my personal opinion and if someone doesn't like it then they can go jump in the lake. How someone can be upset by the opinion of another person is beyond me. Especially when it comes to something as subjective as the arts!

PSS. Time goes fast these days. And I'm concerned that life is passing me by. I've come to say to myself several times a day "I'm here right now so enjoy the moment.. would you please". It doesn't make things go slower but I don't know what else to do. And I don't have any other solutions. Think I'll go have a glass of wine with my wife and daughter and stop rambling for now………………………………………

PSSS. For all eternity parents have thought that the next generation was going crazy, irresponsible and destined for straight for hell. Personally, I thought that the Punk Rockers were the weirdest yet and that civilization was coming to an end. But I recall that all generations thought that the generations after them were the ruination of all humanity. I recall the hippies (I was one and still am), the beatniks, the zoot suiters, the bohemians and on and on backwards. In truth, humanity is not falling apart. We are getting better and each generation will improve on the generation before. So don't fret about the crazy antics of kids. They are compelled by nature to find their own path. They must rebel from us. They must leave the fold. And they must create their own lives…which they will. It is what all species do.

Personally I believe that I lived in the greatest generation. I take nothing away from the previous generations who fought the great wars (and won!). But musically we had the Beatles, Led Zeplin, The Temptations, The Doors, The Rolling Stones, The Grateful Dead, Jefferson Airplane, Bob Dylan and so many more. I fail to see or hear the great music of today's era. I just don't think that Rap is making a serious contribution to culture. But these are only my thoughts and I'm certain my mother would have argued for Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin Sammy Davis, Bing Crosby and Tony Bennet. At any rate kids today are smarter then we were and will make the world better then the one in which we presently reside. But I'm just an old guy and my thoughts count for very little in the scheme of things. So be it….that's the nature of the world in which we live.

PSSSS. My latest book ADIRONDACK HOME should now be somewhere here in America. They are printed in China. I should have copies here in my office within the week (I hope and pray). I have a lengthy list of people who want them. I am selling the first fifty copies for $40. each plus shipping. After the first fifty copies are sold the price will then be $60 each plus shipping. If you would like a copy please email me. If you call in an order please be sure to speak with my wife Michele. She is far more organized that I am. 518 696 4100. Ralph

Friday, September 9, 2005

He was a handsome man with a strong handshake and an infectious smile. Some individuals exude strength and confidence. Billy was one of them. In his mid forties he came into my gallery with a wondrous eye and seemed to take pleasure in everything. He took his time as he made his way around my tables, beds, rockers and other furnishings. I asked if he had any questions or if there was anything I could answer for him. He ignored me. I was not offended. Ten minutes later I again approached him with the intention of engaging him in conversation. He didn't respond. A few moments later I stood directly in front of him and commented on the piece of furniture he was looking at. In that moment it became apparent that he was deaf. To no avail I spoke significantly louder (which is what most people would do under the circumstances). It also became apparent to me that he could not speak. His eyes, however, told me that he wanted to talk but his muscles rejected any desire on the part of his brain to communicate with the outside world.

Sometimes you meet people that you bond with immediately. He and I were instant friends. For the next several minutes I maneuvered his wheel chair throughout my gallery and even though he could not hear what I was saying I commented on things that caught his eye. I would like to believe that he appreciated my efforts and that, just maybe, he could feel the vibrations of my voice. I'll never know. In time he took out a pad of paper and began writing. He was a former ski instructor and an avid lover of the outdoors. Ten years earlier while swimming he dove into a lake in the Adirondacks and struck a submerged object. His neck was broken leaving him paralyzed from his chest down. The injury also caused the loss of both his hearing and ability to speak.

He and I sat in my gallery frantically writing each other notes for nearly an hour. My handwriting was nearly illegible. His was clear and concise. (I cursed my third grade teacher Mrs. Case, who felt the need to publicly chastise me for my horrible handwriting when I was eight years old. She was right and I am now sorry I never improved my penmanship. Thank God for word processors!) He mentioned (actually wrote) that he loved rustic furniture and made rustic signs of twigs and birch bark to supplement his income. Without seeing them I ordered several. In time I wheeled his chair and him to his vehicle where an electric lift hoisted him into his van. Once inside he slowly struggled into the driver's seat and prepared to leave. Only a few feet away from him I smiled and waved. His dark brown eyes pierced deeply into me and for just a second I could sense a smile coming from him.

As he drove from my driveway I wondered if he was embarrassed to have had to climb ungraciously out of his wheel chair and into the driver's seat. I wondered if he chose to isolate himself from the rest of the world for fear of embarrassing himself and making the rest of the able-bodied world piety him. I wondered if he was able to maintain a sense of worth. I wondered if he had friends or dreamed of a better life. I wondered if he had a family or people who loved him. But somehow I didn't worry about him. He had a strength in him that most people, myself included, did not have. He was strong in spirit and a powerful force of life exuded from him. Strong in character is a good way to describe him. Inside myself I knew that I could never survive in his condition. He was far more resilient then I. If I was ever rendered to his condition where I could neither walk, talk or hear just tie me to a wheel chair and push me off the end of my boat dock.

Later that evening when I was alone on one of my evening walks I found tears rolling down my face. Who in the "living-fuck" was I to complain about my business or competitors or ungrateful people or the high price of gas or arrogant artists or demanding clients? The thought of Billy in his wheel chair, unable to speak or hear, left me humbled and embarrassed. I had absolutely no right to feel sorry for myself. Self piety is a wretched curse that ruins the ability of people to function. Wallowing in the muck of self loathing is one of the devils greatest tools.

And, then, sometimes life punches you right in the face and screams "Snap out of it". And when things like that happen its best to pay attention. I know I do. I hope to see Billy again sometime. Strange as it sounds we need more people like Billy in the world.

But Billy's predicament is just cause for thought. Why does life struggle so hard to continue? Even under the most horrible of circumstances just about all livings struggle to survive. There are no easy answers to these questions. Many people, unable to cope with the adversities in life, choose to end their own lives. Others choose to go on living regardless of their misfortunes.

There have been several times in my life that I've suffered from moderate to severe depression. The death of my parents, divorces, loss of jobs earlier in my life, broken relationships, career failures, the death of friends: these are life's stumbling blocks. We all have experienced them. For me I've never found relief from these tortuous moments by traditional methods. I've never found peace or happiness in alcohol, drugs (prescribed or otherwise), or talk therapies from counselors, therapists or other well intended professionals. And I'm too far skeptical to seek peace in religions of any sort.

I've always found peace in the natural beauty of the world. My problems have always seemed insignificant when I stare at the soaring red wood trees in California or gaze at quiet rivers as they meander across the earth toward the ocean, or the forms and shapes of billowing clouds that will never again appear as they are at that very moment. Trees to me are the most beautiful forms on the planet but as I give this thought as I write this I realize that I have never seen anything that did not have profound elements of beauty in it. Beauty is there for all of us. It's just a matter of taking the time to appreciate it. Beauty is the antidote for hysteria.

And so I consider my ramblings from my last Newsletter that I sent out a few weeks ago. Many people commented that I sounded so angry and discouraged. And as I reread my comments I can understand how it was perceived that way. But those of you who know me realize I'm an "up-beat" person and choose to pick myself up by my bootstraps once I have fallen flat on my face. At the same time, life is not about being a "one-hit wonder". It's what you do for an encore that brings meaning and significance to ones life. The quest for perfection is a life long process. We may never achieve it but we are compelled to improve ourselves and the world around us. The "good" in the world and our own perfection is worth fighting for. Humanity is bursting with both talent and creativity. It's a shame that many of us choose to ignore our abilities.

Life is about getting into the ring and putting yourself in the path of harm. Nothing good comes from isolation. Sometimes a few knocks in the head puts some sense into us.

But, tragically, you can't do everything. I have a few lengthy novels in me just dying to get out. Whether I find the time (or the motivation) to write them is another thing. Novels are very difficult to get published. First you need a great story then you have to find an agent. Publishing companies won't even look at a manuscript today unless it's brought to them by an agent. And even agents are very difficult to impress (let alone getting them to take on your novel). And all this takes time. And reinforcements for your efforts are few and far between. My one novel "Picker" (2003) (450 pages) is still sitting unpublished at the bottom of one of my desk drawers. I may use it for "kindling" on some cold winter night.

In truth, however, I'm really enjoying playing music with my band. We've been together for more than six years and we're now playing more than ever. Becoming competent on an instrument is no easy task. It takes years. And once you find people you can get along with (both musically and personally) it takes a long time to coalesce as a band. But, I'll tell you, standing on a stage and having an audience up and dancing is quite a thrill. I don't think I'll ever tire of it.

Learning to play my bass guitar competently is one of the things I'm proudest of. When I turned fifty (eight years ago) I asked myself what I wanted to do the most with my few remaining years. I had always wanted (like many people) to become a competent musician. Prior to my fiftieth birthday I could do a two hour version of "Louie, Louie" on my guitar but little more then that . So for hours each day (but not everyday…sometimes I had to go fly fishing or work on another book!) I practiced scales and changes of all sorts. I even took years of lessons from my now friends Jorma Kaukonen and Jack Cassidy from the bands Jefferson Airplane and Hot Tuna! This was obviously a real thrill for me. These two guys have been my musical hero's for the past forty years and it's been a real thrill to have actually stood on stage with them and played a few songs! And so now my band, The Ralph Kylloe Band, is an improvisational jam band doing the music of the Grateful Dead, the Blues and other fun stuff. And we're all having a great time of it!

Fall is my favorite time of the year. But it's an ominous time. The dark winter months are just around the corner. In the fall I'm very conscious of every moment because I am well aware that snow will soon be blasting me in the face. Awareness of the moment is reward in itself.

Tuesday, 9/6/05, is the opening of the fall Brimfield Antique Shows, in Brimfield, Mass. More the twenty five hundred dealers sell their wares to tens of thousands of buyers all looking for treasures. I don't think I've missed more then a few Brimfield (held three times a year) shows in thirty years. Yesterday I drove out (a three hour one way drive) and prepared to both exhibit and buy stuff as I have done for years. But after two hours of walking in the sun I was exhausted. My heart just was not in it. I missed my wife and daughter. I came home late last night and in an hour from now I'll take my daughter to play miniature golf and enjoy her presence. Tomorrow will be her first day in first grade! I wouldn't miss it for the world. She's getting older now and I want to enjoy her company before she's gone. It seems every time I blink I'm five years older. My priorities are different now. You only have one chance to raise a child. She needs her daddy. I want to do it right.

This coming weekend is the Rustic Furniture Fair at the Adirondack Museum. I'll go up there Saturday morning and poke my head around for awhile just to see what's going on and to look for any new, emerging rustic artists. The following weekend is the Adirondack Antique Show held in Indian Lake, about forty minutes above me. This is also a great show. You'll see a few hundred antique dealers set up along the roads going into Indiana Lake and then a hundred or so exhibitors sell "all things rustic" at the actual antique show.

Then on September 19 I leave for Bozeman, Montana to photograph a few more homes. While out there I'll do a book signing at the Western Design Conference in Cody, Wyoming on Friday, September 23 and "schmooze" with friends for a few days. I return to Lake George on the following Tuesday and then on Thursday I'm off with five or six friends to fish the extraordinary Kenai River in Alaska for a week. Once I'm back from Alaska I then return to Montana to finish up photographing a few more homes.

Here's a thought that's really stupid. Just to show you how strange things can become around here consider this. A month or so ago I had a computer guru install a new computer with every spam blocker, virus eliminator, worm destroyer and firewall ever conceived by the human race. Before I had the new computer with all the bells and whistles installed I had up to five hundred (500) spam's a day, everyday. Now with the new computer I get about ten to fifteen emails a day and they are all business related! But, and don't laugh at me please, it's now kind of lonely around here. At least before I felt that someone was thinking of me and a dark side of me enjoyed all the attention (even if it was just junk email)! But I'll get over this momentary lapse of sanity!

OK, Ok enough of the personal stuff.

So are you happy with the "adjusted" gas prices? Are you happy for Exxon because they profited more than five hundred million dollars over the same period last year? Do you realize that Exxon never paid the bill for their oil spill on Valdez, Alaska a few years back? Are you happy with our federal government's response to hurricane Katrina? Are you aware that we are spending one hundred and sixty eight million dollars ($168,000,000.) a day, every day, for the war in Iraq? I'll stop here for fear that someone out there may start to think that America is heading in the wrong direction. Maybe its time to consider new leaders for our country.

On a different subject who are your favorite public speakers? In no particular order here's my vote for the most charismatic speakers in the past few generations, including but not limited to:

Carl Sagan
Muhammad Ali
Mario Cuomo
Howard Cosell
Jesse Jackson
Martin Luther King Jr.
Bill Clinton
Bobby Kennedy
John Kennedy
Jim Morrison

Here's also a list of the worst speakers I've ever heard, including:

Walter Mondale
Dr. Phil
Leon Spinks (the boxer)
George W. Bush
George H. W. Bush
Janet Reno (former Attorney General)

I'm going to stop there. It's too depressing to think of these people.

Great leaders and great speakers are few and far between. I want to be inspired and motivated. I want to be led and challenged. I want to stand and cheer for what's right and good in the world. I hope that someone comes along in my lifetime that just captures my imagination and thrills me. I want to hear powerful words and great strength. I and America needs that right about now. I'm sick of the wars and the carnage. I want someone who can get people to agree on things. I'm tired of renegade countries, terrorists and threats. We need people who can solve problems through words and inspiration. We need some peace in this land.

Final Thoughts

It's now time to read a few books to my daughter. I'll make her lunch in the morning and my wife will have her new clothes and new school supplies organized and ready to go. I'll stand with my daughter by the side of the road and wait for her first ride on the school bus. Once she's gone I'll wander alone into my back yard, shed a quiet tear and thank god I'm alive. My best to all of you, Ralph

PS. "Never forget that beauty is in the eyes of the beer holder".

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

So…Why don’t you just go and blow your brains out? I’m serious. Why stay alive? With all the crap in the world why bother? Don’t you just get sick of it all sometimes?

As the owner of a small business I ask myself this question often. There is no easy road in life. There is no free ride. I don’t care how many toys you have or what you’re worth there are still headaches. Sometimes the problems here in my little business just don’t seem to let up. And so I ask myself “why don’t I just kill myself?” That would solve everything…..at least it would all be out of my hair.

And so every once in a while I seriously consider the above question. And I often actually write down the answers. I do this because it forces me to count the blessings in my life of which there are many. It’s just that once in a while I need to remind myself of all the great things I’m involved in. And seeing it in black and white forces me to laugh at myself for even considering the question. When I consider all the great things I get to do I’d have to be really nuts to go off the deep-end. And I may be a bit crazy but I’m not nuts!

In truth, counting ones blessings is far more productive then dwelling on all the garbage in the world. And furthermore, I’m always curious about what’s around the next corner. Surprises do happen. You never know what going to happen next. And there’s a real thrill in that. It’s a quest for the unknown. A challenge. And further, who in their right mind would want to spend time in a coffin while the worms eat your guts out when you could be eating ice cream and watching a sunset? And besides, we each have a responsibility to better ourselves and the world around us.

You can probably tell that I’ve had too much coffee this morning and it’s just now really kicking in. I’ll probably change the beginning of this newsletter later but for now I’ll just leave it and read it later.

But as long as I’m complaining I’ll just ramble on for a while. Some of the people that come in my store are real “wacko’s”. We often get people in here who have no intention of buying any of our furniture and just want to see how we build it. Some people want to make photos of our furniture so they can make copies of it in their own workshops. Many people come in with the intention of opening a gallery just like mine and start asking all kinds of questions about our sources, builders, etc. Some people just come in a sit in the chairs, say very little and then leave after I have asked them several times if they had any questions. And there have been several people over the years that have actually scared me. These are the real “creepy” people. It doesn’t happen often, maybe just once a year, and, frankly, but I don’t like dealing with them at all. All the rest of the non-buyers mentioned above can raise my blood pressure but I deal with each scenario differently and once their gone I just try to forget about them.

One time four “big guys” who were right out of the movie Deliverance came in at closing time during the winter. I was here alone and it was dark out. The tension in the air was so thick one could cut it with a knife. I was polite but immediately felt very intimidated by their presence. One of the men pulled out a camera and started making photos of some of the one-of-a-kind chairs. I spoke up and mentioned that I usually don’t allow the making of photos and asked what he was going to do with the pictures. “I’m going to build these at home and want photos”. “Well”, I said, “for $60 you can buy one of my books….then you have all the photos you need”. “If I buy one of your books I won’t have money for beer”, he said. His cohorts cracked up. Tension was rising. “Why is this shit so much fucking money?” asked another of the men. I talked for a few seconds and the guy said “I don’t give a fuck about your chairs”. His dilated pupils spoke of serious drug use. I could tell he was sweating as well. Fortunately one of the other men realized that things could get out of hand and wisely spoke up saying “I’m leaving, let’s get out of here.” With that the other three men walked toward the door. And if looks could kill I would be a dead man right now. The scene lasted about ten minutes and I honestly felt that they were preparing to rob me or checking out my place to burglarize the building later on.

The following day I had a complete security alarm system installed and am happy I did. Nothing ever came of the event but when I think of it now I was in a bit of danger. Although we are a successful business we take in very little cash. It’s almost always checks and charge cards. If the group of men had attempted robbery they would have gotten very little from me. But, in truth, I don’t need crazed drug addicts pointing a gun at me.

There is the tragic propensity on the part of humanity to look on the negative side of things. We often think the worst of situations. Often times our assessments are incorrect. But sometimes we have to follow our instincts and assess the obvious for what it was. Why take chances?

So here’s what’s new. Right now I’m working on a great book on hickory furniture (and five other books as well). I promised someone that I would photograph their home in Indianapolis and use the photos in this upcoming book. So they emailed me last Thursday and after looking at my calendar I realized that the only time I had left was the following day. So at great expense I hopped a plane the following morning. Fortunately, everything regarding the first flight was noneventful. Unfortunately I arrived in Indianapolis and was immediately stuck in rush hour traffic and then got lost by taking the wrong road which cost me two hours. The photo shoot went well but as I had already made many photos of hickory furniture throughout the country it was immediately apparent that the trip to Indiana was unnecessary. On my way back to the airport I got stuck in traffic that was going to the Nextel Race, a huge stockcar event at the Indianapolis Speedway. And so I sat in traffic for two hours while police insisted that I follow signs to somewhere I had no desire to go. Once I finally arrived at the airport I made my flight with only seconds to spare. The second leg of the trip was unfortunate. The plane broke down and was four hours late taking off. Once I was finally on the plane the person I was sitting next to looked me right in the eye and said, “Do you know that Jesus Christ died on the cross for you?” “That’s very nice”, I said, “Thanks for the information”. And so for the next two hours he quoted scripture from the bible to me. I didn’t respond once to him and faked sleeping for most of the trip. I think I’ll take acting lessons regarding sleeping as I can’t take salesmen, would-be preachers or other quasi-miscreants on airplanes any more.

Passenger seats on airplanes are very close to one another. Those sitting next to us are actually inside our personal safety zones. There is always a fight for the middle arm rest. I always get an isle seat. I can’t stand climbing over people to get to the rest room. But isle seats are not without their hazards. People always bump their fat asses into me and never say excuse me which I find unconscionable. Sitting in the last seat on a plane is also horrible. The rest room is usually two feet from my seat and I have to put up with people one foot away from me while they wait in line to use the rest room. Usually the last seat on a plane does not recline and I’m forced to sit upright for hours on end. And then they offer you a bag of pretzels. There are thirteen pretzels in each bag. I know this because I’ve counted the contents of dozens of bags of salty pretzels as I zoom through the atmosphere. And then there are the self check-in computers in many airports. I can’t figure them out. I want to talk with a real person sometimes. I want some personal service not another flashing sign to “touch here to confirm”.

My most recent “worst flight” came a few months ago. I was with my wife and we were returning from a great western trip. I had a window seat. As we were landing I watched in horror as another plane was landing on another runway and coming right at us. Closer and closer it came. When we were within fifty feet of the ground our plane suddenly roared straight up at full throttle. Everyone in the plane was shocked and terrified as we ascended dramatically almost straight up. Once we were again level the pilot apologized to us and casually mentioned that “it must have been the air traffic control officers first day on the job”. In time we circled the airport and landed safely.

But I could go on and on about airplane trips. Bizarre stuff happens in airports and on planes all the time. One time a guy got so drunk on one of my flights that he had to be subdued by other passengers on the plane. Once we landed he was hauled off in shackles by airport police. Another time, right after the 911 tragedy, three big Middle Eastern guys wearing turbans boarded my plane. Nothing happened but I knew what every other passenger on the flight was thinking. And then there are the last minute security searches by officers who can barely speak English. I can’t stand these guys but I never joke or argue with them. I get a big kick when they search elderly grandmothers and three year old kids. But I am glad they are there doing their jobs.

But in truth I like airports. I like the book stores and the food courts. Finally many airports are offering good, fresh food and not pre-frozen, processed crap that sits in your stomach for a week and gives you horrible hemorrhoids and colon cancer. Books are my salvation on airplanes. Last week I finished reading a really great book titled “King of The World” by David Remick. Its an extraordinary biography about Muhammad Ali. The author won the Pulitzer for his effort. Check this book out if you can. You won’t be disappointed.

Business continues to exceed my expectations here at my gallery in Lake George, NY. We are up about forty per cent in sales from last year. We’ve also been selling about twice as much Old Hickory then we were last year. Set of chairs and dining tables are the big sellers.

Regarding our high-end pieces. We’ve sold an enormous amount of furniture this past spring and summer. Most of the pieces that come in never get posted on my website. They come in one day and go out the next and they take a very long time to replace. Also about half of our orders are custom designs and are never seen by people other then those who ordered them. So don’t be upset with me because my website occasionally seems bare.

Here’s something to consider during your morning coffee break. Reputations can be ruined very quickly and we are very careful to do what we say we are going to do. We sold a beautiful dining room table to a client down the road from us more then five years ago. Last week the client came to me and mentioned that the top had split. The next day I went down to the house and indeed the hard wood top had a crack in it. But only a few inches! I wondered if any furniture store in the country would guarantee a piece of furniture five years after the sale. I certainly don’t think Wal-mart would. But I said to the client, “No problem, we’ll build you a new top”. The new top will cost me about a thousand dollars but we’ll be able to cut up the old top and use the smaller pieces in other projects. In truth, I probably could have gotten away with telling the clients that the piece was beyond warrantee. But that’s not how we do business.

The world is a very small place and the “good will” from keeping customers happy goes a long way to building a successful business. But business is one thing. And personal image is another. Replacing the top is the right thing to do. That’s how I would like to be treated and that’s how I try to treat others.

On the other hand an older woman and her son were just here and I politely asked them to leave. She said her son wanted to make rustic furniture and was here to get design ideas and learn how to build rustic pieces. He crawled under the tables, opened all the drawers, made notes, asked about finishes, etc. I mentioned that his inquisitiveness was not fair to us and mentioned that he should take one of Dan Mack’s courses or visit the Rustic Furniture Fair and ask other builders how to make things. The woman became rude and mentioned that it was my responsibility to teach her son (he was 25 years old) the rustic furniture business so he could make a living at it. In truth, I really don’t mind helping struggling neophytes along. But when they cross the border with “attitude” and “unacceptable behavior” I draw the line. I just don’t need “snotty”, demanding people in my life.

My book ADIRONDACK HOME will be out on the market October 10. I am disappointed that I won’t have copies of the book for the numerous shows that happen in September but it will be worth the wait. It’s a great book. But the release of any of my books is both a thrill and a nightmare for me. Those with items pictured in the book will be very pleased. At the same time I’m certain that many people will also hate my guts for not including their works. With the publication of each book I also get a dozen or so nasty letters berating me for this or that. Here’s an example. A few years ago I pictured a chandelier in one of my books. I included the name of the designer within the caption. A month or so after the release of the book I received a very adversarial letter from an attorney demanding to know why I did not include the name, address and contact information for the electrician who wired the lamp. I asked the attorney if I should have included the names of all the gardeners, electricians, painters, carpenters, carpet installers, kitchen cabinet designers, roofing specialists, masons, draft men, etc, etc., who were involved with the house. Or what about the guy who dug up the ore to make the steel for the chandelier or the guy who made the bricks for the foundation? Or the God Damned truckers who delivered all the stuff or the real estate broker who sold the owners the property? As usual and as expected, I never heard back from the attorney. But this kind of stuff darkens my day. I take solace in the great quote from Winston Churchill who profoundly said that “Monuments were never built to critics.”

And so to those who will send me nasty letters I say go jump in the lake. And while you’re there I hope you’re attacked by a horde of leeches that suck all your blood out. Write your own damned books. Stop sitting in front of the god damned TV and do something constructive with your life. And leave me alone.

All right, alright I’ll calm down. But honest to god I get tired of the crap and the rumors and having to justify my existence to all the jealous “wanna-be’s” out there. If you would build better furniture and not insult me behind my back at every opportunity and put more effort into becoming a better person and artist you just might get some free PR . And while you’re at it just stop and consider how many times I’ve bailed rustic furniture makers out of jail or loaned them money to buy their cars and tools. Or paid for their divorces, therapists and prescription psycho drugs. Or loaned them down payments for their homes or shops. Or provided expensive materials at no cost to them. Or the many times I’ve hand-held aspiring artists while they learned their craft. Or bought substandard furniture from someone who was absolutely broke and sold it for significantly less then what I’ve paid for it. Or how many people I’ve helped with their careers who’ve forgotten about the free PR I’ve given them. And while you’re at it consider that I don’t take any consignments in my gallery. When someone shows up here with something I like they immediately get a check that will clear the bank on the spot. Or if they need the money I’ll give them an advance on an unseen project. And when you consider all that keep in mind that I support about 20 families who just might be unemployed without my support. I remember one time a guy sat on my front and openly wept because he didn’t have money for food to feed his family. On the spot I loaned him $2,500 for a new truck and also gave him a significant advance for pieces of furniture he wanted to build. I even featured a piece of his furniture in one of my books. He never even thanked me for the PR and complained that I didn’t list his name in the resource list. A few months later he was saying all sorts of crap about me to many of my friends and business associates. No one believed him and I hear that he’s nearly out of business. I am always amazed at how quickly people forget about those who helped with their careers. What goes around comes around. Burning bridges is really a stupid thing to do.

And so now that I’m through with my tirade I going to get a dozen chocolate donuts, a loaf of bread and a quart of orange juice. My gorgeous daughter and I are going to sit at the edge of my dock, feed the ducks and watch the sun go down over beautiful Lake George, the Queen of American lakes! She’ll tell me that I’m the greatest Dad ever and the nicest person in the world. And I’ll believe every word she says because she’s absolutely right! Life is good. Keep your chin up because if you don’t you just might walk into a dump truck. My best to all of you, Ralph

PS. My trip to Alaska is now full. Eight of us are going to fish for monster Rainbow Trout and Silver Salmon for six wonderful days the first week of October. If you want further info on next years trip let me know. And the week before the Alaska trip I’ll be back in Bozeman, Montana working on another book! And when I return from Alaska its back to Montana for work on another project!

PSS. Its now a day later and I am in the process of editing this Newsletter. My wife always reads my writings before it’s sent out and just about hit the ceiling when she finished reading this Newsletter. She thinks I’m nuts for writing about this kind of stuff. And I suppose that there are many people out there who just want to read about rustic furniture. There is a part of me that says I should eliminate most of what I wrote and just stick to the basics of the rustic furniture world. Who really cares about this stuff anyway? But, for me that’s too boring. People can read about that stuff anywhere. But, what the heck? I’m a personal kind of guy who likes to put the cards on the table. Between 300 and 600 people read my Newsletter everyday and the number is growing. I get all kinds of responses and thoroughly enjoy hearing from others. After all what kind of a person would I be if I kept all this stuff inside and just rambled on and on about the weather? This is who I am and all this stuff is a part of my life. So be it. Power to the people! R

PSSS. It’s now Monday August 22. It’s been a tough past five days. Last Thursday during a routine visit my Doctor noticed a lump on my face. The next day I was in the hospital. I was given several pills to take before the surgery that were supposed to “relax” me. Unfortunately I found them to be ineffective as I casually walked into the operating room for a date with a surgeon. After sticking me ten times with his god damned hypodermic needle the area below my right eye was numb. I was awake during the surgery. Nearly an hour later the surgeon was done, I was all stitched up and ready to go home! Then the phone rang. It was the pathologist. The malignant tumor was bigger then initially thought and he wanted better margins. So my surgeon took out the twenty stitches, reopened the wound and dug an extra half inch under my eye to remove more tissue. Forty minutes later I was done. The tumor was out and off I went. I was conscious throughout the procedure and miserable as a dog with mange. The first procedure wasn’t bad but the second operation was the pits. The experience of my tissues smoking when cauterized was less then thrilling. I could feel each stitch as he again sewed up my face. All in all however the surgeon did a great job. He had a “dark” sense of humor (which I thoroughly enjoyed) and played great blues music throughout the procedure. The only down side was that he didn’t give me any good drugs. I was looking forward to lying on my couch for the next three days in “la-la” land. I was disappointed when he told me to take ibuprofen which is about as much fun as kool-aid.

I took the rest of the day off. I hired someone to watch my booth at the Adirondack Living Show on Saturday. However, I got so bored sitting in bed Saturday that my wife and I showed up in the evening at the show and enjoyed a brief party and the warm regards from several friends. Jeff Fraser, the show promoter, also publicly acknowledged me for my efforts and thanked me for my continuing contributions to the entire rustic movement through my writings, books and other works. Those in the audience (about a hundred or so) applauded which I greatly appreciated. Its little things like that that keeps me going. I worked the show on Sunday and in the evening several friends helped break down my booth, load my truck and rearrange my gallery. Later that night, Henry Caldwell took my family and me out for an evening cruise in his historic 1898, mahogany, 37 foot electric boat on beautiful Lake George. A full moon rose over the mountains as we cruised silently across the lake. It was a wonderful end to the day.

And so I sit here with a monstrous black eye. I’ll have the stitches out on Tuesday and I anxiously await the news from my surgeon regarding my health. One thing for certain is that whenever I plan on being in the sun I promise to use industrial strength, heavy duty sun block. We fair skinned, light haired people don’t need any more radiation from the sun! And I’ve had enough radiation in my life to melt a moose! Ralph

PSSSS. The Adirondack Living Show held this past weekend was the best ever. Even though I was not there for most of the show, my gallery, five minutes from the exhibition hall, was filled with more people then ever who came from the Forum to see my gallery. Those artists who want a great place to show their creations should apply to exhibit at the show. And anyone wanting to see all things related to rustic living should not miss these shows, they just keep getting better and better!

All right I’m done!

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

I've come to expect it. Strange experiences in airplanes, that is. I don't know why but I now realize that it's important to either fall asleep or be good at faking it on flights. Here's a few reasons. My recent flight from Albany to Minneapolis seemed just another connecting flight to me…until Mr. Know-It-All sat right down next to me.

"Hi, my name is……." I didn't catch his name. I didn't want to. I'd been up since three AM and just wanted to be left alone.

"I'm a tech rep for "so and so" computers". I wanted to say "I don't care…leave me alone".

"Do you work with computers?".

"Mister, I struggle with solitaire and can't even figure out how to open my emails". I hoped that would shut him up. It didn't. I wasn't being rude mind you. I was just encouraging him to let me have some peace for the moment. It didn't work.

And so for the next two hours and twenty eight minutes I listened while he described in detail the technology of modern day computers.

"The S-22 model of the KM microchip fits nicely into boards of the YXm35s", he said proudly. On and on he went like a dog in heat. He lost me after the first sentence. At the end of the more than two hour flight he handed me his business card and assured me that I was now ready to take on the world of computers. "Just call me if you need anything" he said. "I'll keep it in mind and many thanks for all the info", I said. I pray I never see him again.

All this brings something else to mind. Many of us in this world are bad listeners. Conversely, many of us can occasionally talk too much. A conversation should be a personal communication between two people. It's not about giving someone a lecture. We need to be able to react to the comments from others which requires actually listening to what others are actually saying. And then making a comment relevant to what the other person is saying. This is no easy task. Many of us are so locked into our own lives that we selfishly occupy lengthy amounts of the precious time of others. A good idea is to keep your comments to a reasonable amount of time and let someone else talk for a while. More on this at a later time.

Eventually, I got another flight and landed in Bozeman, Montana later that day. My car was ready and I drove to a hotel on the outskirts of the growing town of Bozeman. The following morning I met Queen Jacque Spitler at the office of architect Larry Pearson. Jacque is a great friend, a very talented lady and the manager of Larry Pearson Architects. Larry is perhaps the greatest living architect today. And I say this with no reservation. Arguably one of the nicest people in the world his talent is both mega-impressive and prodigious.

My book THE RUSTIC CABIN (2004) contained several of his homes and at present I am hard at work on a book titled THE WESTERN HOME due out in the fall of 2006. This new book is about the homes of Larry Pearson. Jacque and I were to spend the next week photographing several of his recent projects for this next book.

I will say from the start that world class homes are not the result of one individual. They can't be. They're far too complicated. Great homes are the result of an enormous amount of work completed by a host of enormously talented people. I'll talk about all the individuals involved in these projects in the text of the book when it comes out so for now sit tight. But I have to tell you. Some of the homes defy comprehension. The richness and warmth of the recycled woods and the craftsmanship required to complete the structures renews my faith in the originality, creativity and abilities of humanity. The character of these homes goes way beyond the norm. These places are really heavenly inspired.

And photographing these buildings is far more difficult then one can possibly imagine. In the past I've used only existing natural light to make images for my books. But the size of many of the buildings requires me to reconsider the time of day, type of film, possible supplemental lighting sources, etc., in order to get decent, useable images. And I'll also say that photography is a very poor medium in which to portray the uniqueness and grandeur of these homes. As a photographer I must admit that nothing can really adequately portray the "art" inherent in these residences. It's just not possible.

So much for that. My one mishap occurred in a gorgeous building that was many miles and hours into the interior of the Montana wilderness. A gorgeous home I photographed several settings in the place during the first two hours we were there. Unfortunately, the power went out in the complex and so I stood there with three others (all on payroll) for the next two hours with nothing to do. Finally, I called it a day and returned to my hotel. I'll have to photograph the building on my next visit there in September.

In general I can make photos for four or five hours a day. Then I get visually tired and usually spend the rest of the day having the film processed, doing errands or fishing. And when I'm in Montana I fish. Out of the seven days I was in Montana I fished five of them. The rivers were 'blown-out" and far too muddy for fly fishing so I signed up to utilize a few clear, private, spring fed streams that feed the Yellowstone River. Fishing was excellent. The water clear and cold, the air fresh and the fish rose as the sun poked its nose over the Rockies. Each morning deer wandered within a few yards of me as I slowly made my way down the middle of a twenty yards stream. My one mishap was when I stepped into a deep hole and completely submerged myself. To my horror my feet tangled in weeds and for a second I thought this might be the end of me. Fortunately, the weeds released their grip and I once again breathed the free air. But I did really contemplate the seriousness of the moment. I vowed to be more careful. Fear does strange things to people…. especially when you're alone.

Fishing was good to excellent. Hatches occurred and I caught seven to ten great Rainbows and Brown trout each day. Fly fishing, however, is not without its humiliating moments. At Nelsons (a private spring creek) I stood for four hours on one spot and was humiliated as hundreds of huge trout snatched bugs from the water all around me. I tried everything in my fly box and ended the day catching only one twenty-two inch trout on an emerger PMD (a fly about to hatch). All fly fishermen have had such experiences and such events are designed by the fish-gods to humble us lowly humans whose egos have begun to run amuck. And, it is humbling!

On one of the evenings I was in Bozeman the folks at Larry Pearson's office asked me to give a brief talk on Fly Fishing before a group that evening. So I prepared a twenty minute slide show and made arrangements to get to the meeting site. Being the author/photographer of the award winning book "Fly Fishing the Great Western Rivers" I find it very easy to speak on the subject. Little did I realize that the group I was speaking to was the Young Presidents Club of California. This is a group of mega impressive, young business leaders (30-50 years old) who are CEOs/Owners/Presidents of very large firms on the west coast. I opened my talk with the comment that "I thought I was to be talking before a group of Wal-Mart employees or Tupper Ware salespeople……but I suspect that after meeting many of the folks here that that is not the case!" The audience loved it and the ice was broken. Surprisingly many of the eighty or so people at the meeting knew me and of my books. I sold an additional 20 copies of my Fly Fishing book there and also had a great dinner with the crowd in a gorgeous ski resort in Big Sky, Montana. It was a very grand evening!

A week after I arrived my wife and daughter showed up. We were to travel to Glacier National Park to make photos for my new book on hickory furniture. At the last second we were able to get a room at the gorgeous Lake McDonald Lodge, a old structure complete with antique hickory furniture, classical antique rustic décor and a great dining room. Further, anyone who has been to Glacier knows of the "Drive to the Sun" road. The drive along the mountain ledges is enough to send even the hardiest of souls into cardiac arrest. I've driven it several times and my heart can't take it anymore so we went around the park and made our way into Canada.

Traveling with a six year old is no easy task and patience is the prime requirement when doing so. Every hour or so we stopped to see all the tourist attractions, the water slides, the ice cream shops, the miniature golf parks and the rest stops. Each night we had to stay at a hotel with a pool. But all went well.

My one chance for doing nothing for a few days came in Kamloops, B.C., Canada. That area is home to the largest trout in North America. We stayed at a great family resort complete with a swimming pool and other kids. The one unique thing about the resort was that the grounds were occupied by literally hundreds of marmots, picas and prairie dogs. At any given time you could see at least fifty of these little creatures. And it was mating season! These small creatures ran all over the place all day and night fighting with each other, screaming with high pitched squeals and making little babies. Sounded a lot like my college campus during the late 60's.

The guide I had hired to take me fishing forgot to write me in so I was left to my own resources. Fortunately, I was able to rent a boat and I happily hunted huge rising trout each morning and evening. Each outing was about three hours long and each time I was out I brought in two and sometimes three trout. Each was above twenty-four inches. My largest was twenty six inches. Tragically, I hooked the largest one in the gills and after a lengthy attempt to keep him alive he floated to the surface belly up. Most good fly fisherman today are "catch and release only" and I greatly regretted killing such a beautiful fish. However, the chef at the lodge masterfully cooked him up for us and we had a great lunch of fresh trout!

From there we traveled through the Canadian Rockies to Jasper National Park where we stayed at the Fairmont Lake Lodge. We delighted in feeding the horses but was less then impressed with the hotel which is touted as five stars. From there we traveled to Lake Louise to another Fairmont Hotel for a two night stay. This place was spectacular. Well worth the cost! While ascending the local ski gondola to the top of a mountain a monster male grizzly walked right under us. I made sure we did not fall from our open air seats. From there we traveled down to the Fairmont Banff Springs Resort for another two night stay. Another stunning place! There I went fishing on the beautiful Bow River and landed several nice Brown Trout while my six year-old daughter had her hair trimmed and nails painted at the Spa ($75)!

From there we went back to Glacier National Park and spent a relaxing afternoon being rocketed near the speed of light through water slides at the local water park. My stomach still has not settled down!

Once back in Montana we stayed at the famous Chico Hot Springs Lodge (life is not complete without a stay at this place) just south of Livingston, Montana. From there we spent a night at the Old Faithful Inn in Yellowstone (always great but presently undergoing renovations). And then finally a night in West Yellowstone (a hotel with a waterslide) and then back to Bozeman. And during all the drives we stopped at every "fishy looking" river (so I could toss a few flies) and every gas station so Lindsey could have another Popsicle!

The flight home was of course eventful. A full flight in a small plane, we sat on the runway for more then two hours while they tried to correct some mechanical problems. The pilot politely opened the bar for free drinks and apparently everyone on the plane (including all the teenagers) was drunk within the hour. One "punk rock, heavy metal rapper" insisted on playing his music really loud and was asked, to no avail, by his inebriated mother on several occasions to turn down the "God Dammed" music. He didn't comply with her requests. We finally returned home at about four in the morning and passed out in our clothes.

And so here I sit with a pile of mail to open and more then a thousand emails to sort out. But the trip was worth it. I made many photos to be used in upcoming books and we also got to see some of the most beautiful scenery in North America.

Speaking of books: here's my plan for my future books during the next few years; including;

ADIRONDACK HOME, fall 2005
THE CABIN, fall, 2005
THE HICKORY FURNITURE BOOK, Spring, 2006
THE WESTERN HOME, Fall 2006
THE RALPH KYLLOE RUSTIC COOKBOOK, Spring 2007
THE RUSTIC ARTIST, Fall 2007

Speaking of books you should check out the following new titles, including

"Searching For the Sound" by Phil Lesh. This book was written by the bass player for the Grateful Dead. It's a personal insight into the evolution of the Dead and is great reading.

"The United States of Wal-Mart" by John Dicker. A fascinating look into the workings of the largest retailer in the world. (Once you read the book you'll never shop there again!)

"Alone and Under" by William Queen. A really great book about an undercover ATF agent who infiltrates a violent motorcycle gang. This book actually brought tears to my eyes and is one of the greatest books I've ever read. This is a very moving book and will be enjoyed by all who read it.

(I feel compelled to mention that the author of this book brought up several things that I found emotionally interesting. During his two and a half year association with the gang he became very close to the other members. They became his brothers. When his mother died no one in the police force he was closely associated with even acknowledged or offered sympathies of any sort. Each member of the motorcycle gang, however, including murderers, drug dealers and all-around bad guys offered their sympathies, hugged him and told him they loved him. During that period the agent almost gave up his police career and rode off to be a permanent gang member. And to some degree I would not have blamed him.

This section of the book was very poignant for me. When my own mother died a few years ago I was very surprised that many of my closest friends said nothing to me in terms of sympathy or even acknowledged my loss. I did receive a very heart warming letter from a friend of mine as well a very heart felt phone call from another musician friend in Chicago. I greatly appreciated hearing from both of them. I think that most of us don't know how to deal with death. The loss of someone close to you can be horribly tragic and no one can understand such turmoil unless they've been through it themselves. However, a simple acknowledgement or statement such as "I'm sorry to hear about your mom" really does wonders to help people through perhaps the most difficult period of their lives. I know I learned a lot about people during that period of my life and today, regardless of how uncomfortable it makes me feel, I make the effort to express my sympathies to those who need it. It's something we all should do. )

On another note the good people of Lake George, NY (where my family and I live) were recently notified by mail that there are three convicted sex offenders living in our county. This put the brakes on things for me and just about everyone who else lives here. As the father of a six year old daughter I am extremely protective of my only child. Throughout her year in Kindergarten my wife and I drove our daughter to and from school. Once we were notified of the existence of the sex offenders I began to look at everyone (both men and women) differently. I definitely was suspicious of all the single men hanging out at the school after classes. Frankly, I wondered if they were the offenders. It suddenly dawned on me, however, that they were probably thinking the same thing of me. In time, however, it became clear that all of the men were just there to pick up their kids but us regular parents became very suspicious of anyone unknown to us. Fortunately nothing (to the best of my knowledge) bizarre has happened here.

The month of August sees the Adirondack Living Show here in beautiful Lake George, NY. August 19-21 a hundred or so exhibitors set up their wares and sell stuff to the public here in the Adirondacks. In truth, it's a great show not to be missed by anyone interested in rustic lifestyles. Call Jeff Fraser at 518 371 6363.

Business continues to be great. Many of the really great pieces of rustic furniture have sold from my gallery and are time-consuming to replace. We still have a hundred or so great pieces on our gallery floor so don't hesitate to stop on by. Our 40% off sale on all Old Hickory items continues to be well received and we are placing orders with the company frequently.

My annual trip to Alaska is filling up fast. At present there are five of us going. There is room for eight. So if you are interested let me know as soon as possible. The dates we'll be fishing are September 29 through October 4. We'll be fishing the mighty Kenai River about 2 hours south of Anchorage. You'll catch up to fifty rainbows a day…all above 20". And these are huge fat fish! You'll also catch a bunch of monster fighting Dolly Vardens as well! And you'll also tangle with several 30" trout as well. And if you know what you're doing you'll be able to land them! You can also catch as many silver salmon as you can handle! We'll be staying at Gwins Lodge in Cooper Landing. If you want more info please call me. Beginners and spouses of any gender or orientation are more then welcome.

We'll that's about it. If I don't start returning phone calls and responding to emails I'll get yelled at so it's off to work I go. Keep in touch please, Ralph

PS. My ADIRONDACK HOME book is off to the printer. It will be available about October 10. You'll love this book as it shows many gorgeous homes and great furniture!

Sunday, June 12, 2005

I really hate being sick. I don’t think there is a worse human experience then nausea and vomiting although I’ve heard childbirth can be quite nasty. This past Thursday evening I stopped in for a quick sushi dinner before heading out to a gorgeous river with fly fisherman/rustic furniture maker Phil Kellogg. As I consumed my last bit of raw fish the sushi chef handed me a custom made delicacy complete with a touch of mayonnaise and sliced onion on top! (It must have been the mayonnaise.) A bit later I met with Phil and we fished for Brown Trout with Sulphers (a bug) till dark. We both caught a few fish and it was great to be on the water.

I got home well after dark and, like a good man, took the wrath of my wife for not calling to say I would be late. After we had our “little” discussion I sneaked a bowl of ice cream and several chocolate chip cookies as I watched a few episodes of the Chappelle show.

I woke up the following morning with every muscle aching. “Must have been a great workout walking up and down the river last night”, I thought to myself. An hour later I was doubled over and spent the next three days wanting to die. And so now the worst is over and I won’t bore people with the disgusting details of my illness. I suspect that each of us has our own stories about this kind of stuff. I don’t think it’s necessary to remind myself or others of the joys of good health. Little jabs in the ribs like the flu are sent to remind us of how lucky we are to have a few healthy days in our lives and to appreciate them when they come. It could be a lot worse.

On the down side to all this is that I had to cancel my trip to Indiana for a book signing in Nashville, Indiana last weekend. It was a well advertised event and I was looking forward to meeting new people and signing a few books! So I apologize to the good people in Indiana and the wonderful folks at the Old Hickory Furniture Company who were sponsoring the event. Bob and Rocco, I’ll make it up to you somehow…I promise!

Speaking of Old Hickory……we are still offering anything manufactured by the Old Hickory Furniture Company at 40% off their suggested retail price plus shipping. So give me a call and I’ll give you a great deal!

Years ago I contracted a very serious disease. Tularemia is a potentially fatal illness and people die from it. I was very ill for about four months. It was a dark time in my life. It cost me the use of one of my lungs. But I was lucky and I survived. I am always out of breath now and I often wonder if the illness took a few years off my life. If I hadn’t survived, however, I wouldn’t have written so many books about rustic stuff and just maybe rustic furnishings would not be as popular as it is today. So I guess that’s my legacy and the purpose of my life…..to document the evolution of a folk art movement. Its not really what I planned to do but I accept it. It’s a strange purpose in life but someone had to do it. So please excuse me while I ponder the meaning of my life for a while. Illnesses do that to people and I can assure everyone that I am grateful for every moment I am alive.

As long as I rambling on about this kind of stuff I have an unusual confession to make. I am a tormented guy. I really am. I don’t see myself as normal or well- adjusted at all. People who are busy all the time and can’t seem to sit still are usually individuals who have so much negative stuff going on in their heads they usually try to escape their torment by staying busy. And I fall into that category. I’m not kidding. Many of us tormented individuals are really bothered by “scary” thoughts. Stuff like this plagues us. But there is a difference between people who think about weird stuff and individuals who act on their impulses.

Fortunately there are all kinds of great outlets for people like us. I write books, play music, go fly fishing, make photos, enjoy nature, work. (Which, in truth, is really not a bad way to live!). Many of the most accomplished individuals in the world really are tormented people. But creative individuals find creative outlets for their energy. I’ve gotten to know many accomplished people in my life and once in a long while I’ll bring up the subject of motivation. Many times after a long conversation (which is always fascinating) individuals will admit to being plagued by unwanted thoughts. (Its more common then you think!) Expressing thoughts through art, writing, sports and unlimited other activities not only advances societies and humanity but is great individual therapy as well. Cultural activities are a socially acceptable way of expressing oneself and channeling ones energy. I used to think I was really nuts but when I think of a guy like author Stephen King (the horror writer) I wonder what’s going on in his head. I seem normal when I think of all the bizarre stuff that’s out there in the world.

But at some point you have to come to grips with who you are. You have to dance with the girl you came with. Learning to work on your strengths decreases your weaknesses. Trying to better oneself is a sign of maturity. And keep in mind that just because you’re getting older doesn’t mean you’re getting better. Laziness and inactivity is the ultimate sin. Trying to better oneself and ones world is the ultimate quest and the reason we’re here. I hope I’m going in the right direction. I don’t mean to ramble on about all this …but I do get melancholy once in a while. So please excuse me for this brief moment of weakness!

On another thought last week I had my teeth cleaned at the local dentist. The person who cleaned my teeth was the ultimate sadist. I hate sitting in a dentist chair. It’s humiliating and degrading. Sitting there with a mouth full of metal equipment you’re supposed to answer their stupid questions with a smile on your face. And so this Nazi of a dental hygienist stabbed me enough to make me jump five feet out of the chair on each occasion. With blood running out of my mouth I asked her to take it easy on me as she had been very aggressive in her ultimate pursuit of universal oral hygiene. “Well, you don’t have to be so “snippy” about it”, she shouted at me. Frankly, this woman was the antichrist. I’m not kidding. Ten minutes later I was out of her torture chamber. I did not respond to her demand that I not wait so long between cleanings. I will not visit her again. I wrote a very factual, aggressive letter to her boss, the dentist. If you don’t stick up for yourself no one else will. People will walk all over you if you let them. Brutal people need to be put in their place and reported to their superiors. They also need to be subjected to their own brutality on occasion. It just might make them more sensitive to the indignities they so readily impart on others.

So it’s been a tough week. My new hyper fast, satellite, internet connection ($600 just to install it) only works when the sun is out and I know my editor is ready to shoot me because I couldn’t download the final text of my new book when I needed to. We’ve had severe storms here for the past several days. (Madge, it’s not my fault!)

Frankly, I’m thrilled with the design and editing of my new book, ADIRONDACK HOME! My dear friend editor Madge Baird has masterfully crafted and polished the book with a gentle hand. The writing is in my voice and the photos have been laid-out just the way I love them. I’ve featured about a dozen or so spectacular homes in the book and also included a gallery section of individual photos from various settings in the area. The homes themselves range from the very rustic to the ultramodern that include a few rustic touches to embellish their ambiance. Along with the architectural offerings I’ve also shown extensive examples of the works of rustic artists Barney Bellinger, Lori Toledo, Brian Kelly, Phil Kellogg, Chris Wager, Peter Winter, John Bennett, Robby Secor, Tony and Robin Williams, Randy Holden, and several other very talented individuals.

I do know that some people will be a bit disappointed with the final selection and use of the photos. We only have room for so many. I submitted (I think) 375 photos and we’ve used only 335 or so. The editor has final say so don’t be mad at me please! I’ve also included a short resource list. I did not include the names and address of individual artists. But I did mention home builders, galleries, architects, designers and a few others.

On the subject of books: I have a list of ten different books I’m presently working on. It will take me about four years to finish all of them but I’ll get them done. I love making the photos and meeting the new people. Their homes are usually gorgeous and their hospitality is very much appreciated.

Well, its now the second week in June. This week Americade invades my sleepy town of Lake George. Fifty thousand motor cycles and more then a hundred thousand individuals take over the southern Adirondacks. I won’t go to town now for the next week. There is no place to park and I can’t take the roar of the Harleys. Its funny though, these are not motorcycle gangs or outlaws. Most of the bikers in town are rapidly approaching the realm of the geriatric. Most of them are slow to get off their bikes and I can’t remember hearing of a fist fight in the more then ten years that I’ve lived here during bike week. But they do fill the motels, restaurants and bars and sing along to Grateful Dead tunes. All in all they’re a colorful group. They’ve found a calling and camaraderie with others who share their same interests.

But just to complain for a minute I personally believe that motor cycles and motor boats should be subject to the same noise standards as automobiles….but that’s just my opinion. Frankly, I’m sick of the roar on the roads and the roar on the water as cigar boats blast up and down the lake in search of their masculinity.

Actually, we’re moving in the right direction here in the town of Lake George. We successfully banned jet skis from our lake because so many drivers of these vehicles were driving them while drunk. Last year we had three deaths on the lake because jet skiers slammed into the 300 passenger tourist boats that cruise the lake. I guess that they just couldn’t see the three story boats that are more then a hundred feet long. How stupid can they get? And I’m certain at least one of the families of an individual who died will try to sue the steamship company because they “couldn’t see” the boat in broad day light. Or maybe the boat didn’t sound its horn to warn everyone in a fifty mile radius that they were on the move.

On another note, I had my first serious run-in with wine when I was 20. I had taken a drive during spring break from Illinois where I was an undergraduate student. We drove a VW van down to New Orleans. It was a real adventure. Once there we wandered in and out of the French Quarter and enjoyed the sights. Later that evening we found our way to a seedy area where a number of people stood around bonfires. These were real “ho-bo’s”. Living in crates and under bridges we eventually mingled with the residents of the area. Later that night we wandered back into town where we purchased six gallons of “Kook-a-Munga” wine at 59 cents a gallon (sic). And so I tried it. It wasn’t bad. But the wine actually had chunks of stuff in it and I didn’t know if it was grape skins or toe nails left over from when it was stomped into wine in someone’s basement. So for the rest of the night I ate a dozen donuts and drank a gallon of wine with about five or so homeless men standing around a bon fire in the middle of a freight car train terminal. I thought the whole thing was cool! What did I know?

I slept in a box for the next two days. I have never, ever had a hang-over like that. I was violently ill and wanted to die. Three days later my buddy picked me up and drove me back to Illinois. I spent the entire ride lying in the back of his van throwing up. I didn’t drink wine, any kind of wine, for more then twenty years after that.

My own father, a man I was never close to even though we lived together, had a rather pedestrian approach to alcohol. I can clearly remember him saying that “if it burns when I drink it and makes me dizzy, then it’s a good drink”. Today I don’t exactly follow that same principal but I guess its one approach to involvement with the spirits. A year or so ago I had dinner with a friend in Montana who mentioned casually that the wine we were drinking cost over a thousand dollars a bottle. I made sure I finished my glass and did my best to not spill any of it on the table cloth. I could also hear my fathers drinking philosophy roaring in my head. I wondered what he would say about expensive wine. I suspect he would rather have spent the money on fishing gear.

Well, business continues to be better then ever. We’ve made many deliveries in the past six weeks and took more orders then I ever have. It’s the high-stuff that’s selling. People want originality and uniqueness. They want things that are functional and gorgeous. They want special treatment. Seem like all of us want the same things out of our lives. I hope we all find it. My best to you, Ralph

Thursday, May 26, 2005

It's now about 3AM. As usual I'm up and about but on this early morning I'm very irritated with both my wife and daughter. Here's why. My daughter plays music around the house constantly. When we're in the car I usually loose the arguments about whose going to listen to what on the CD player. I even purchased my daughter a portable CD player so she can listen to her own music. So if I'm not listening to my daughter's music then I'm subject to the music preferred by my wife. For the past hour I've been lying quietly in bed trying to sleep…to no avail. The only music I hear in my head is either "I am a very Happy Moose", passionately beloved by my daughter, or the music of the Bee Gee's. I can't stand disco music and right now I hear "Stay'in Alive" blaring in my head. Right now I feel cursed. My wife also loves the music of "Meat Loaf" and I have my share of his music rumbling around in my head as well. How in the name of all the God's ever created by the human race am I supposed to get anything done when all I hear is Meat Loaf pounding away at my psyche? I can't take it anymore. And so for the next hour or so I'm going to listen to Jimmy Buffet on my office stereo and play endless games of solitaire on my computer. Maybe that will clear my thoughts and give me some peace and rest. Oh woe is me!

Here's my schedule for the summer and early fall.

This coming weekend I'll make several deliveries both in and out of state. Business has been quite extraordinary and, in truth, we've sold more furniture this month then during any other period during my past almost thirty years in business.

June 3-5 I'll be in Nashville, Indiana signing books during the "Log Home" celebration. Once the weekend is over I'll be in Indianapolis photographing a high-end golf course club house recently completely furnished with hickory furniture. From there I have to be in northern Indiana where I purchased several pieces of antique Old Hickory furnishings from an old lodge.

I continue to make progress on my hickory furniture book and will have the completed manuscript to my editor/publisher by July first. It appears that the book may be on the market in the spring of 2006.

Between June 17-19 I'll be attending a fly fishing workshop run by famed fly fisherperson Joan Wulff. This workshop will focus on just casting the fly rod. I never thought there would be anything else one could learn about throwing a tiny fly through the air but those who've attended the clinic swear by it. So I'll give it a try.

Between June 20 and July 6 we'll be in Bozeman, Montana photographing a few more high end-rustic homes designed by Architect Larry Pearson. Larry, for my taste and experience, is the most accomplished and creative of all the architects working within the rustic realm. Another of my upcoming books "The Western Home" (fall, 2006, $60), will again feature the works of this incredible architect. From Bozeman we'll travel up to Glacier National Park to photograph a few more homes. And from there we're headed up to Banff, Canada and then to Kamloops, Canada to fly fish for Rainbow Trout.

August again sees the Adirondack Living Show and once that is over I will be venturing out to the coast of northern California and on up to Seattle to visit the sites of recent installations and to photograph a few more homes. September sees the Adirondack Antique Show, the Rustic Furniture Fair and then the Western Design Conference. The first of October will be the date of my annual ten day fly fishing trip to Alaska and in November I'll be at the Fur Peach Ranch in Ohio to play music with my old buddies from Hot Tuna for four days. In late November I'll be back in Montana to photograph a few homes and to continue work on a few more books.

As we speak I am negotiating with my publisher and the National Museum of Wildlife Art in Jackson, Wyoming, to complete a wonderful book on the history, architecture and the collections of the museum. And I'm certain that my "spare" moments will be taken up with other projects as the summer progresses.

I spent Monday, May 23 in Manhattan. After a five hour drive through New York rush hour traffic I found a parking garage in the Wall Street district. After having my vehicle searched by three big guys I parked my car four floors below street level. Once I took the elevator to the main lobby I had to pass through a metal detector and have my brief case examined as well. From there I took a cab (I'll talk more about the ride in a minute) to Rockefeller Plaza. After finding the correct building I had to present photo ID's and have a security pass made up for me. Before the pass was issued the security team called the office of the individual I was to see to confirm my appointment. Ever present in the area were large, suited men that, I'm certain, were fully armed and prepared for anything. Before I could gain access to an elevator I again had to pass through a metal detector.

I had mixed feelings about all the security. Things aren't the same in America anymore. Especially in New York. In a small way I enjoyed the attention and I must say that I also felt safe as I navigated the system to gain access to the various people I wanted to see. I don't joke with any security people either in New York or in any airports. Most of the security people are dead serious and don't tolerate nonsense. I would not want their jobs for anything. And frankly, I imagine more of them would rather be doing something else then looking for the negative aspects of humanity all day. I must admit however, to see fully armed soldiers with loaded machine guns, battle helmets and flak jackets is a bit unnerving. But that's the world in which we live and that's where our tax dollars go. There is no free ride in the world today. It is the price we pay. Vigilance is a necessity.

New York City is a serious place and as a writer I often take notice of the more unusual aspects of human behavior. But keep in mind that when I write this stuff I am writing it through my eyes and how I personally experienced it. Some people prefer to see the glass as half full and others see it as half empty. I prefer to see the glass with lots in it and room for more. When I have spoken with others who have experienced the exact same thing with me they say that that they interpreted the experience differently from the way I perceived it. So who knows what life is really like? It's all subjective and open to personal interpretation. That's the nice thing about math. Two and two always equals four. There is no personal interpretation or arguments about the outcome. It's not a personal assault on someone and, fortunately, few people will ever disagree on the outcome. I wish more in life was that simple. Sometimes simple is better. How, as an incredibly diverse society, we have come as far as we have….I'll never know.

Driving into New York City Monday morning I noticed that several people were waving to me. I waved back! "Hey", I said to myself, "people are finally getting to know me from my books and I'm now finally being recognized for all my long years of effort". My ego was once again deflated when shortly I realized that the people were actually just trying to wave down a taxi rather than waving to me.

Speaking of taxis. Inside the back seat of all New York City cabs is the passenger "Bill of Rights". Along with the exact fare the cabs drivers charge are the following statements.

Passengers are entitled to the following, including;

1. Safe, courteous drivers who obey all traffic rules,
2. Knowledgeable drivers who speak English,
3. Air conditioning and heat when requested,
4. A noise free trip with clean air and no artificial scents.

Oh my God. What have we here?

My first cab driver was an interesting fellow. He had just finished his curry lunch. The vehicle "reeked" of his heavily spiced food. Further, he had an incense stick burning which reminded me of my college days. The smell instantly gave me a thunderous headache. The driver was from Pakistan. He could barely speak English. His turban nearly touched the ceiling of the cab. His lengthy beard, I am certain, protruded onto his lap and for forty five minutes I listened raptly while he went on and on about his hatred for Indians (the ones from New Delhi). "We will not use nuclear weapons on them but I think we should", he said in a high, squeaky voice. "They are all low-life's. I hate all of them". I could actually see his blood pressure rising as he went on and on. "My only son married an Indian. I hate him. I will never speak to him again. I hate him. I hate them." On and on and on he went, like a dog in heat.

And while he spoke he had loud blaring Pakistani music blasting from his "boom box". I had to admit that the music was rather "catchy". At least it wasn't the Bee Gees.

What could I say to all this? Sometimes its best, I reminded myself, just to shut up and experience the moment as it is and thank God when it's over. But in his own way he was an interesting fellow. Its far better to look for individuality and the uniqueness in things than to constantly ridicule people who are different from you. All living things have worth and who am I to debase others who have chosen a particular path in life different from mine.

As we made our way to mid town down Second Avenue the driver maneuvered his vehicle in excess of fifty miles per hour. I could see pedestrians fleeing for their lives as he ran another red light. I was actually hanging on for my own dear life as he was practically on two wheels as he turned corners. As he sat on his cushion of beads he actually looked quite comfortable as he honked his horn incessantly as if to let the entire world know that "HE" was coming. I wondered if the second coming of Christ will arrive in this guys cab. It might be appropriate because he sure got everyone's attention.

Once we arrived at Rockefeller Plaza I paid him his $39 and gave him a three dollar tip. "May all the gods bless you my friend and may our paths again cross as we seek the joys and bliss of the after-life", he said to me as I gently closed the cab door. I had nothing to say other than to praise God for allowing me to live in Lake George, New York, where deer and bear often wander through my backyard.

In time I wondered if he had ever read the Passenger Bill of Rights so clearly posted for all passengers to see in the back of his vehicle. I wondered if he would loose his license to drive if I reported him to the authorities. Who are the Taxi authorities in NYC anyway? I wondered what he would do if he could no longer drive his vehicle. I could only wish him well as he sought the bliss of the after-life. I'm certain I'll never see him again. But I can assure everyone that he will live on in my memories as the Bizarre Nightmare Cab Driver from Hell.

In time I made my way back to the Wall Street area where I had lunch with seven great gentlemen at the Anglers Club of New York. This was the second in a series of interviews necessary for membership in the club. Frankly, I'm thrilled to have been nominated for membership. The club is the oldest fly fishing club in America and will be celebrating their 100th birthday next year with a great celebration. All the members I had lunch with were impeccably dressed in three piece business suits. We talked for more then two hours. It was an incredible breath of fresh air for me as fishing is the only subject allowed to be discussed in the club. And so for quite some time we spoke of fly fishing all over America, the spring insect hatch, fishing in northern Scotland, the latest equipment, the evolution of the art and the club in general. The individuals I met were no doubt very influential business leaders in America and I suspect that the club is a profound respite within their complicated lives. Further, I was thrilled that several of the members knew of me before hand and had copies of many of my books. Some people have waited for years for membership invitations. Frankly it was thrilling just to spend a few hours with this group and I hope to do more of it in the future. We all need diversions in our lives.

This past Sunday I had high speed satellite internet service installed in my computer. We are next to the last house in Lake George and the powers that be are too cheap to run cable this far out in the country. So for the past five years I've had to settle for "dial-up" email and web service which is like waiting for the government to end all filibusters.

So the installer came out and tried his best to find a place for the satellite dish. He finally found what he was looking for in my front yard. "Kinda far from the house", he said. "I'll have to dig a trench". "How much?" I asked. "Three fifty a foot" he said.

So I marched off the distance. It was about a hundred feet.

"How deep do you have to go?" I asked. "About six inches" he said. "So that's three hundred and fifty dollars to dig the trench". "Yep" he said.

So I went to the tool shed, got a few tools including a hoe and dug the trench myself. The installer just stood there in disbelief for the full half hour while I dug the trench. He would have charged me $350 dollars to do what I did in a half hour. That's equal to $700 per hour. I think I'm going to change my career and did trenchs for a living. With that kind of money how can I go wrong?

Well folks, it's now time to put my daughter to sleep. Once she's gone to dream land I'm certain I'll lie there for an hour or so quietly resting. As I sit here at my desk I pray I will not be bombarded with the high squealing voices of the Bee Gee's or Meat Loaf. I need a little peace in my life. My best to all of you. Ralph

Monday, May 16, 2005

My penis is fine. Everything still works.

Right now you're probably saying Kylloe has gone off his rocker. Why in heaven would he say that? He must be nuts. He's got to be crazy. And you're probably right! And you may be thinking about unsubscribing from my newsletter. And frankly, I wouldn't blame you in the least.

But bear with me for a moment while I explain. Between May 12th and May 14th, along with all my business emails, I received 1,578 unwanted emails that I subsequently `deleted from my computer. I have the latest version of spam blocker from Norton anti virus and I've added just about all the deleted #'s to my "block-sender" list on my computer. And so I'm telling entire world right now that I don't need penis enlargement pills. I don't need Viagra or any of the hundreds of other medications offered on the internet. I don't want the latest guaranteed fat burning drugs. I don't want to refinance my homes. I don't need a mortgage. My homes are paid off. I don't want to buy land in Costa Rica. I don't want to know what my car is worth. I am not interested in marrying a woman from Russia, Rumania, Thailand or China. I am not interested in porno and don't want to see the latest bizarre sexual scenes between humans and animals. I don't want anti-aging pills for my cat. I don't want to meet lonely housewives. I don't need life insurance. I don't want any metal furniture from China. I don't play the stock market and don't want shares in moon mining exploration start-up companies. I don't want or need any new software. I don't want to learn a new language in two weeks and I don't need a guaranteed Ph.D. on-line for $50. I don't want printers ink and I don't want a fake Rolex watch for $50. And I will not be sending Mr. Shi Yu ten thousand dollars for a guaranteed percentage from the $24 million dollar account of General Ibrahim Moussa who will receive the funds once the Iraq war is over! So just leave me alone would you please! You people drive me nuts.

On another subject, I play in a very good Rock and Roll band. Its fun, its art and we do realize that we'll never replace the Beatles. A year ago we were playing in a bar and the song we were doing was somewhat boring. No one was dancing and I failed to see any individuals at least tapping their foot to the beat of the music. So I changed the tempo of the song (bass players can do that by speeding up the song.) I played more notes that included some very rhythmic melodies. The audience perked up and began to dance. This reminded me once again that each of us, ultimately, is responsible for making things better for ourselves and in the world. If we do not take responsibility for the quality of life in our own lives and on the planet no one else will. It's a responsibility not to be taken lightly.

I've been very busy for the past thirty days. First, the Minneapolis Lake Home and Cabin Show, then The Adirondack Living Show and finally the Brimfield Antique Market Place. Frankly, I'm exhausted. But, from my perspective, here are the insights from each of these events.

Because I no longer enjoy long drives I sent my furniture to Minneapolis on a truck. I just can't take sitting in a vehicle for thirty hours. So I flew. The flight was interesting to say the least. I don't know why but strange things happen to me on airplanes. The only seat left on the flight to Chicago was a middle seat near the back of the plane. It's just a two hour flight so it was no big deal. Within minutes two huge ladies appeared and one of them sat down on either side of me. Both of them needed an additional seatbelt to fasten themselves in. So needless to say both of them overcrowded the three seats and both of them had their arms in my lap. One lady wore a babushka. Both were plainly dressed. Both women had hair growing from their chins. They both spoke what I believed to be Polish. And so I spoke up and said "Yak Sha Mosh"! I think that's a greeting of some sort in Polish. With that both ladies broke into hysterical laughter. This was not your usual chuckle or giggle but a gut busting laughter that shook the entire plane. Their laughter was so profound that I could not help but laugh with them. Apparently they kept telling each other jokes because the laughter grew more profound with each comment from them. And I loved their laughter so much that I just couldn't help but join in. I really had no idea what they were talking about but honest to God it was really funny. Shortly beverages were served. I held my glass up to both of them and said "Dy boy sha" which is a Polish drinking toast. "Dy boy sha" both of them said back. We downed our ginger ales. Then one of the ladies started talking directly to me in very fast Polish. I had no idea what she was saying. As I was about to explain that I couldn't speak their language the other lady spoke right over me and told another joke of which the true meaning was obviously apparent to only the two of them. Both of them again broke into gut snorting laughter. I couldn't help but join in. I mean all this was really funny. And I just couldn't help myself. I laughed harder then I had in years.

A half hour later both of the ladies were sound asleep. Both their heads were on my shoulders. They were snoring so loudly I'm certain I lost another ten per cent of my hearing. Sometimes in life it's just best to go along with the spontaneity of the moment. As I write this I start laughing to myself with the thought of the two fat Polish Ladies with hair on their chins. It was probably the funniest two hours I've spent in my life. No one could ever understand the joy of that moment and words are completely inadequate to describe the experience. But it was one of those little gems in life that I'll carry to my grave. I hope I have more of them. Sometimes little experiences like the two fat ladies make life worth living.

The show in Minneapolis was not what I expected. Professionally run by promoter Dave Greer the show far exceeded my expectations. Two hundred and fifty exhibitors filled one of three huge rooms in the Convention Center in downtown Minneapolis. The move-in was easy. People were friendly and helpful. The city incredibly clean.

Minnesota is the land of lakes and water front cabins. They're everywhere. To my delight the people in that area had not been exposed to high-end rustic furniture. Most people who came into my booth were awe struck by the quality of the pieces I had with me. I sold a few pieces immediately. During the show I sold more then fifty books and signed many more for people who brought their books in for me to sign. One individual, early in the show, offered me $75, 000 for everything in my booth. I said no. I eventually sold most of the pieces by the end of the show and when he returned Sunday night he purchased a few things from me and ordered several more. Just before the show opened I was on TV four different times. I even shared the spot light with comedian Louie Anderson. He appeared just before me in the same studio and he and I talked and bantered with each other for several minutes during and after the interviews.

One interesting thing occurred while I was in Minneapolis. Right next to my show the national High School Dance Competition was being held in another hall. The competition went from seven in the morning to eleven at night. I was fortunate to sit in the audience for a few hours each day. The competition ranged between pairs all the way up to full production events that included seventy five dancers.

It was the first time in a long time that I felt strangely close to humanity. These were my people. This was humanity at its finest. People perfecting their skills and interacting with others as it should be. I just felt incredibly proud to be human. I was incredibly surprised at how talented twelve and fourteen year old kids can be. Life is no longer about me. It's about them and the continuity of the human spirit. We are so bombarded with the horrors of humanity it was a breath of fresh air to see people passionately in the pursuit of art.

But it was a long home show. The doors opened at nine and stayed open until 9PM. My wife was supposed to fly out to help with the show but our daughter came down with strep throat requiring the two of them to stay home. The long days were made worse by the fact that I was sharing a room with an individual who snored louder then Godzilla. I'm not kidding.

All in all I was thrilled with the show. More then 16,000 people walked through the front doors. We were definitely the hit of the exhibition and the many new people I met made the effort to visit the good people of Minnesota worthwhile. Now, a week after the show, I have received several other custom orders. Other individuals should strongly consider either exhibiting at the show or attending to see the many fine dealers.

A day after I returned from Minneapolis I had to pack my truck for the Adirondack Living Show held at the Pepsi Arena in Albany, NY. The doors opened at noon on Friday and then closed at eight pm. Friday was a busy day and customers were present until the doors closed. Saturday started off slow but picked up as the day went on. I sold several mirrors that were made by frame artist Lori Toledo. I also took several other orders for her mirrors. I left the show early because it was my wife's birthday. I took her to Georges on Lake George. We had an excellent dinner. Sunday was Mothers Day and everyone was surprised that significantly more people attended the show then on the previous day. All in all the show went well. The one humorous thing that happened was when a section of curtain fell. Behind the curtain sat a young woman breast feeding her infant. Needless to say that she and the many people who saw her were a bit surprised! The only hard part of the show was breaking down my booth. We had to bring furniture down a flight of stairs. I didn't get home until nearly ten PM.

Shows are funny things. They take an enormous amount of work. If you do well at the show you love the show promoter. If you didn't sell anything you curse the promoter because it's all his fault. Few people ever take responsibility for having less then desirable merchandise or asking too much money for the things they're selling or having the same merchandise in their booth show after show. Jeff Frazer, the promoter of the Adirondack Living Show, runs a great exhibition. It's well advertised, professionally run and he even offers a great Saturday night party for his exhibitors. Next time you're in the area be sure to check out his shows!

The following morning, Monday May, 9, I packed my truck and was out of town by 10AM. Three hours away is the sleepy town of Brimfield , Massachusetts. Three times a year five thousand antique dealers and more then fifty thousand retail collectors invade the town in search of treasures. I started walking by one PM and didn't stop until about eight in the evening. I bought and sold many things on the spot. I also picked up several great pieces of antique rustic furniture which I'll offer through my gallery. The following morning I was on the fields at four AM and walked the shows until about eight PM. By that time my feet were worn raw. When I was younger I could run the shows for fourteen hours a day. Nearly fifty eight years old now, I can assure everyone that I suffered greatly as did my best to find "the stuff"!

The antique rustic furniture business is different now from what it was twenty years ago. Then I was the king. No one else wanted the stuff and I could load my truck and trailer with great pieces easily. Now days everyone has jumped on the rustic bandwagon and prices have sky rocketed. And I must admit that I feel a bit protective about my position in the business. I missed several pieces I wanted but, and I've always adhered to this principal, if you work hard you'll get your fair share. And I did purchase several really great pieces of Old Hickory and many really great rustic accessories like camp signs, snow shoes, and other related items as the days went on.

I have not missed a Brimfield show in twenty eight years. And I know lots of people there. It's funny to see the same people and to hear the latest gossip. Many people have died throughout the years and many people have gone on to new things. Some have divorced and everyone is older now and showing it. The hunt for the treasure is the same. Its no different then the Klondike or California gold rush.

And I've changed as well. I no longer beat people up on prices. I'll negotiate with people but I know when to stop. I try not to make a fool out of myself. Other people deserve to make a living as well.

I returned home late Wednesday night and unloaded my trailer with my treasures. I then passed out on the couch. Thinking I could take Thursday off I was not surprised when people wanted my attention all day.

It's tough to get old. But strangely, I love what I do. It's not work to me. I get tired, yes, but I still love just about everything about my business. I consider myself an incredibly lucky guy. I hope others feel the same way about their life's work.

During the past month or so I've read the following books. I strongly suggest you look at these, including:

1. Stephen Hawking: A Life in Science. By M. White and J. Gribbin. An absolutely great book about the wheelchair bound astrophysicist. Some sections are a bit advanced but you love the book.

2. The Fabric of the Cosmos by Brian Green. This is an advanced book but explains the advances in science regarding the Universe in which we all live.

3. The Artists Way. Julia Cameron. This is the best book I've read in a long time. I've learned more stuff about my own personality and art then I thought possible. The author will bring out the artist in all of us and ultimately make us all better people. Trust me when I say you'll love this book.

During the past ten years I've kept a very low profile regarding rustic antiques. Just to keep the record straight I still buy and sell a few hundred pieces of antique rustic furniture a year. I just don't advertise it. But just to let people know that I'm still very active in the business I am adding a new section to my website. Titled "Antique Rustic Furnishings", be sure to check out the section as I am now offering some very great pieces on my site. And if you have something to sell please send me a few photos. The new section should be up on my website within the week.

And thank you all for your support in renaming my upcoming book on Adirondack stuff. I received hundreds of votes and have successfully convinced my publisher that the book should be titled ADIRONDACK HOME. At this point I am incredibly proud of the book. Unfortunately, it won't be on the market until late September. Nonetheless, I will be posting a copy of the cover for your enjoyment! The book sells retail for $60. However, just to let everyone know how much I appreciate your support I am offering this book to the first one hundred subscribers who contact me at the price of $40 plus $9-$12 for delivery. That's cheaper then Amazon or other book discounters! In truth, this will be my best book yet. I used a larger format camera and the transparencies have reproduced far better then I expected.

And so now I have to run over to my cabin on Lake George. We're putting in my docks today and I'll get yelled at if I'm late. I look forward to the summer season and I hope to be able to enjoy the Adirondacks more then I have in the past. On the other hand, I have no problem hanging out in my gallery talking with the greatest people on earth and offering the greatest rustic furniture that world has ever seen! And I'm not the least bit biased! My best to you, Ralph

PS. I have a significant amount of documentation on rustic furniture artist Reverend Ben Davis. Davis created furniture up until the 1940s. I've featured his pieces several times in my books and one of his cabinets was featured on the cover of my book Rustic Traditions. I would like to present his work in a small book just about him. The paper back book will cost less than $20. As I will have to publish this by myself I want to make certain people are going to buy the book before I spend $3,500 to have it printed. If anyone is interested in seeing his work in print let me know please.

PSS. Within the week I'll be posting another fifteen or so new pieces on my website. So check back please. My best to you, R

Sunday, April 17, 2005

I love Key West. I really do. I love wandering around admiring the architecture, the marinas, the lush green scenery, the food and the laid back atmosphere. And I’m not ashamed to mention that I’ve been known to spend a night or two frequenting the bars. Although I’m not one to over do things I love the expression “when you visit the bars in the lower Keys you’ll probably crawl home on bended knees.” In truth, just about everyday of my life I try to think of ways to retire and live there permanently. In fact I’m in Key West right now as I begin to write this edition of my Newsletter.

I began coming here about thirty years ago. As a treat I rented a room in a nice B&B. The man at the front desk smiled at me politely as he showed me to my room. “Come on down for evening cocktails”, he said. “It’s by the pool just after sunset”. “Great, I’ll be there” I mentioned. Nice people, free cocktails and something to do in the evening. What the heck?

So I wandered around town for the day and in the evening I ventured down to the pool where a number of chairs were neatly arranged. I had a few drinks and enjoyed some light conversation with some of the other guests. At eight PM the host asked that everyone be seated and moments later rather loud blaring music blasted from the in-house PA system. Then an announcer declared “And here he is folks, direct from New Orleans…..Mr. Fabulous!” The guests started screaming. With that this meat-head, muscle bound Arnold Schwarzenegger looking guy jumps out from behind some curtains and starts dancing all over the place. He was only wearing a tiny g-string as his muscles bulged all over the place. The fifty or so people in the audience went wild. Frankly, I didn’t know what to do. To me it was embarrassing. Then it dawned on me that there were only men in the audience. But I was cool and didn’t make a fool of myself. In time I was asked to dance by a guy with earrings. I politely declined. Shortly, several other “guests” arrived and I could only wonder about the mental health of certain aspects of humanity when I realized that the new guests were in full drag. I tried as much as possible to appear nonchalant and comfortable but all this really drove my anxiety level to new heights. Men were now swimming naked in the pool and shortly I noticed several “couples” in compromising positions in full view of the rest of the party. I was invited to participate in these activities but politely declined. Shortly, after I finished my drink I snuck up to my room packed my clothes and departed. “You’re leaving so early?” the front desk clerk asked. “Unfortunately, yes” I said. “Too bad….it really gets going here later on. Would you care to make another reservation?” the desk clerk asked. “I don’t think so” was my only response. “Too bad” said the clerk. “I’d love to get to know you” he said as I departed. I didn’t respond.

Although I had paid for a room at the B&B I slept in my car that night and watched the sun rise over the Southern Most Beach in America in the morning. Sometimes, some things in this world are a bit too strange for me.

But, in truth, I love Key West. I still bring my family there and we always have a great time. We just stick to the heterosexual B&Bs and don’t go to the weirdo bars or hang out with guys with too much lipstick.

Thursday, April 7, 2005. Key West. I wander on over to a barber shop on Fleming Street as few blocks off Duval Street. As I walk I always stop to feed the chickens and cats that are just about everywhere. Once inside the shop I sit down in a chair as I wait for the barber to finish up on another customer. I pick up a tattered magazine and peruse the pages of a year old Playboy. Moments later I’m invited to sit in the barber chair and once there am wrapped in a sheet to prevent my now gray/white hair, which will shortly be trimmed from my head, from falling on my worn Grateful Dead tee shirt.

“How do you want me to cut your hair?” asked the barber. This seemed to me like a straight forward question. But, in truth, I sometimes/many times say some things that some people find strange or offensive. I have a tendency to just joke and kid with lots of folks. That’s part of my nature. Those people who know me enjoy my bantering and find me easy going. But not everyone. And I never know when the “dark side” of humanity will raise its ugly head. I don’t intend to be offensive but sometimes things just come out wrong, or are completely misconstrued by some malcontent. And sometimes some people are just having a bad day. It has nothing to do with me, mind you, it’s just things aren’t always right with some people.

“With a pair of scissors”, I said.

“What do you mean by that crack?” asked the barber. “What are you some kind of wise guy? If I cut your hair with a pair of scissors it’ll take me all god damned day and I don’t have time for that shit. I bet you’re from New York. All you New York people are wise asses. You come down here and drive the prices so high that no one can afford to live here anymore. This place is now a mad house because of people like you. I used to love it here but you people ruined it.” On and on he went. Half way through the experience he lit up a Cuban Cigar and blew smoke directly in my face. For fourteen minutes I endured his scathing insults and sarcasms. And with each on- going statement he flashed his scissors and electric clippers just inches from my eyes and throat. I started to wonder if this might be my last haircut. The other people in the shop who were also waiting for a hair cut looked perplexed at the barber’s behavior and I thought they all just might walk out.

In time I was spun around in the chair and forced to endure more of the barber’s wrath. “Here’s your God Damned hair cut. It’s fourteen dollars and I don’t take credit cards” he said. I looked in the mirror. He had done an excellent job. I took the money out of my pocket and paid him. I also gave him a two dollar tip! “Very nice haircut”, I said directly to him as I further admired his handy work in the mirror.

After I left the shop I wandered down to the Half Shelf Raw Bar on the waterfront and had a dozen raw oysters and several pina coladas. Sometimes it’s just best to ignore provocative situations and compliment people when they do a good job. Other times I wish some people would be run over by a God Damned Mack truck or get attacked by flesh eating bacteria. God help us all.

Each evening I fished for Tarpon with my friend Keith Shorts from Jackson Hole, Wyoming. The first night we hired a guide who billed himself as the best guide in the Keys. Out on the flats we caught nothing for five hours and had to listen to him while he rambled on about communists, women, the Cubans, beer, the government, the Iraqis, fishing and all sorts of other stuff. He talked for five straight hours. As the sun set he commented, “The fish just aren’t biting”. We went back to the dock with no fish in the boat.

We hired a different guide the next day. This new guy was the hardest working guide I had seen in a long time. If the fish weren’t in one spot we traveled to other areas. At 7PM I landed a huge 110 pound tarpon. An hour later I fought with a sixty pound fish. He towed us out into the Gulf of Mexico where tragically, ten feet from the boat, he was attacked and cut in half by a ten foot shark. Scared me to death. I will never swim in the ocean again. Keith also caught several fish that evening and we both agreed that it was one of the finest fishing experiences either of us ever had.

The next evening we went out again. Keith landed another huge 100 pound tarpon and I brought three more big fish to the boat. All were released back to the water.

But this guide was also strange. He yelled at both of us all day and night. I couldn’t do anything right around him. I asked stupid questions, couldn’t cast correctly, didn’t fight the fish properly, stood in the wrong part of the boat, didn’t move fast enough and on and on. But talk is cheap. And sometimes it’s just best to ignore those with troubles far beyond one’s individual comprehension. He put us on fish and we had plenty of action. The other guide did not. I don’t care how strange someone is I just expect them to do their job. We gave him a hundred dollars in cash as a tip.

My family and I arrived back home in Lake George, NY, at one AM on Tuesday, April 12. I fell asleep immediately. The alarm went off at 6AM. Ten minutes later an eighteen wheeler showed up at my gallery with a delivery. It took almost two hours to unload the truck. I was on the road by 9:30 AM. I was to have lunch at the Anglers Club of New York with a client of mine. After searching for the place in downtown Manhattan I finally found the correct entrance way. I rang the bell and ascended a flight of steep stairs to the club. The club itself is an old world association in a wonderful old world brownstone building. I had a great lunch with three wonderful gentlemen. Everyone there was in three piece business suits. I presented the club with a complimentary copy of my book FLY FISHING THE GREAT WESTERN RIVERS. Everyone was impressed. I was also invited to apply for membership in the club which is a big deal if you’re into fly fishing. I am presently in the process of completing a lengthy application form and look forward to the interview process.

That evening I spoke about the Adirondacks before a group of about fifty people. The meeting was held at the Metropolitan Club off of Central Park. The Club is a mega impressive building geared to “wow” anyone who walks in the front door. The group of impressive business types were clients of the firm Bear, Sterns. After diner and cocktails the group bantered with me as I showed slides of Great Camps and impressive Adirondack scenery. It was a grand event. It cost $77 to park my car for the evening.

Speaking of high prices. A latté (whatever that is) now costs about $6-$7 depending on where you live. Just to do some research I ordered half a cup of coffee and a half pint of milk at a B&B where I was recently staying. I poured the milk into the coffee, closed the lid and violently shook the cup. I then handed it to a friend and after tasting it she said that “that’s one of the best latté’s I’ve ever had. Thank you!” There’s a lot to be said for marketing and presentation.

Business has picked up dramatically in the past month. People are beginning to wander up to the Adirondacks and we have agreed to be involved in several major projects including ski lodges, B&Bs, private residences and other concerns. We also are just at the beginning of talks involving a huge project regarding a log structure based on Alaskan architecture. I’ve been asked to oversee the entire project. We’ll see what comes of this.

Our 40% off all Old Hickory products continues to draw attention. We’ve sold a ton of stuff and have decided to continue with the sale. Just to clarify things: the prices for Old Hickory items on our website are already about 20-%-30% less then what Old Hickory suggests we sell them for. But please call us and we’ll give you the best prices we can. To see the entire Old Hickory collection go directly to www.oldhickory.com

We’ve also been asked to be involved in a new TV program that will feature several very high end rustic homes. Time will tell what comes of this venture.

We continue to offer copies of “hurt” books at the price of $15 per book plus shipping. I’m not certain how many copies the publisher has left but please feel free to contact me regarding this offer.

We are presently at the “yelling” stage of my Adirondack book. The publisher wants to call the book ADIRONDACK RUSTIC which I think is a stupid title. I’m arguing for either THE ADIRONDACK HOME or ADIRONDACK RETREATS. Let me know which title you prefer please. The book will be out in September. And I’m certain that we’ll have several “heated’ disagreements regarding the design and layout of the book. But we’ll get it done and on the market.

We will be exhibiting at the Lake, Home and Cabin Show on April 29-May1 in Minneapolis. This promises to be a great show. There will be more then 250 exhibitors. I’ve also been asked to be on TV for a lengthy interview regarding the direction of rustic living, rustic furniture, etc. I will be appearing on KARE channel 11 in Minneapolis. Call Dave Greer at 888 471 1192 for more info on the TV program and the show!

I’ll also be exhibiting at the Adirondack Living Show held at the Pepsi Arena in Albany, NY, May 6-8. This is a really great show and I’ll be bringing several exceptional pieces of rustic furniture. Call Jeff Fraser at 518 371 6363 for more info on this show.

My business is more complicated now. The phone rings often and people want info on all sorts of things. I spend a lot of time putting out fires and doing things I care little about. I probably won’t open my Keene Valley store this summer and will wait patiently until someone comes along to buy the property. I have more then I can do here in Lake George. And I don’t want more headaches in my life. Once in a long while I think about my life and my career. Selling rustic furniture is not what I wanted to do as a young man. But so much of my life is fulfilling that I do my best to dwell on the good things and try to resolve any business related problems that seem to arise more frequently then I wish.

Jackie, my cat died a few days ago. It’s strange how animals affect ones life. She came to me every night for a five minute “kitty massage”. Then she hopped off my chest and fell asleep in the arms of my wife. She was old and lost more than half her body weight during the last few months of her life. Once she couldn’t walk anymore I took her to the vet who gently filled her old body with enough sedative to put her to rest. I wanted her to die peacefully and with dignity. After a brief ceremony we buried her in our back yard. I think of her often.

It’s strange that we treat our pets, both in life and in death, better then we treat our fellow humans. The Florida case is a prime example. To starve someone to death disgusts me. If they knew she was going to die then give her enough morphine to let her go in peace. People deserve something better then bunch of hypocrites of sitting around arguing about the quality of life. To starve someone to death goes way beyond the realm of inhumanity.

On another note spring is finally here in the Adirondacks. The snow is mostly gone from the mountain in my back yard and the ice is off the lakes and ponds. Soon the black flies and mosquitoes will be here. But with them comes the green leafs and warm breezes. Soon the trout will be rising and during the first week of June Lake George will see the invasion of more then 50,000 motorcycles as Americade takes over my town for ten days. I try to leave town when the motorcycles arrive.

My band is once again organized and recording. We’re primarily a jam band and often venture into improvisational forays that thrill me. Music is an unspoken language. Musicians often retreat into the solitude of their music. Our instruments often become our temples. I have a tendency to wander off and forget about the real world when I practice. It’s peaceful there. We all need that once in a while. My best to all of you, Ralph

Tuesday March 15, 2005

Hi Folks. I’ve been receiving a number of emails lately wanting to know when my next newsletter will be coming out. In truth, I see myself as having been lazy for the last six weeks. Sometimes it’s hard for me to motivate myself. When I was in undergraduate college I took an independent studies course in photography. I didn’t meet with my professor for the first three weeks into the semester. When I showed up he asked where I had been. I said that I hadn’t felt motivated or inspired to create anything and was waiting until I felt “the spirit move me”. With that comment he blew his stack. Life is not about waiting for things to happen, he said. Life is about getting things done regardless of how you feel. He told me to resign from his class immediately. I apologized to him and said that I saw his point. He was, of course, correct. He let me stay in the class.

So when ever I find that I need to get some work done and I don’t “feel” like doing it, I loose my temper with myself. “Strike the God Dammed keys” I say to myself when I’m at my computer. I don’t care what letter I hit but I force myself to get going. The approach works 80% of the time. The other twenty per cent of the time I take a nap, play my guitar or rearrange my fly fishing gear.

Most of us have a lazy streak in ourselves. I certainly do. In truth, however, I work seven days a week and I feel horrible when I just sit around. I suppose it has a lot to do with feeling comfortable with oneself. Frankly, I am not and I keep busy to avoid thinking about all the crap that’s happened in my life and continues to happen. It’s an avoidance thing. Right now I have some serious problems that just don’t seem to go away. And they’re having an effect on my life and my own productivity. Once I resolve all this I’ll write about it. It will make a great novel. But not now.

SUCH A DEAL!

I have received a number of “hurt” copies of my books from my publisher. These are books that have some very minor wear on the cover. Since I can’t sell them as “Perfect” I’m offering them at a really low price. Right now I have copies of THE RUSTIC CABIN, CABINS AND CAMPS and RUSTIC ARTISTRY for sale. I am selling these slightly blemished copies for $15 each, plus $8 shipping. That’s right….$15 each plus shipping.! My books are normally $60 each so this is a great deal! This is a perfect opportunity for people to include some of my books in their libraries at a dirt cheap price! I’ll happily sign the books and send them off to you! Don’t miss out on this sale as I have about fifteen copies of each of these books. Email me or call my office at 518 696 4100.

JUMPING AROUND

It’s now Monday, March 14, 2005 and I’m sitting here thinking about the past two days. Last Wednesday a gentleman stopped by my gallery and mentioned that he was promoting a large show this weekend in my town of Lake George. It was the annual Whitetail Classic and geared toward hunters. One of the exhibitors had dropped out at the last second and four booths were available at a greatly discounted rate. Assuming that the show would draw all kinds of cabin and camp owners I accepted his offer. So on Friday afternoon I drove a truck load of great stuff to the hall which was no more then fifteen minutes from my home. The set up was easy and several people help me unload my vehicle.

And so the show opened at ten AM on Saturday. From the start I knew I was visiting another planet. Just about every one of the hundred or so exhibitors were selling guns and/or hunting gear. Several hundred animal mounts were also on display. Further, along with the chewing tobacco and Budweiser exhibitors my favorite concession was the booth that offered bibles complete with camouflage covers. “Something to help you get right with God while you’re waiting to harvest the deer of a lifetime” pitched the salesman. I passed on his product.

All the attendees looked exactly alike. Easily sixty percent of the people attending wore camouflage outfits. Almost all of the kids eight and under had their camo outfits on and a pair of four year old twins was complete with camo pants, jackets, shoes and hats. A tiny baby was covered with a soft camo blanket. The best one was a man pushing a camouflaged baby stroller.

Every man wore a hat advertising some sort of hunting product and every man had his fair share of facial hair. Further, I took special notice of the several men who entered my booth who had chewing tobacco running down their chins.

I was set up near the loading dock which meant I had no heat. I nearly froze to death sitting in my booth. The individual set up next to me was selling artificial animal calls. When activated these devices mimicked ducks, elk, turkeys, geese, and a bunch of other unknown animals. Not surprisingly, the calls were louder then a Who concert. On and on the calls went…all day long. I’m certain I lost a significant part of my hearing due to the frequency and volume emanating from this booth.

Hundreds of people entered my booth and asked questions.
“Are these real antlers?”
“How do you get the bark to stay on?”
“Why is this stuff so expensive?”
“How do you build this or that?”, and on and on.

Several people made photos of my booth with my full knowledge that they were just going to go home and copy my furniture. I argued with one guy and realized that he had his five hunting buddies with him. “Why tempt fate” I asked myself. These were not the kind of people who would understand my concerns or attempt to settle things peacefully.

Along with the retail people I was approached by a few dozen individuals who wanted me to:

donate a piece of furniture to their charity,
join their organization,
advertise in their publication,
subscribe to their publication,
put my things in their soon-to-open gallery,
give them the names of my artists so they could buy things directly from them, and on and on.

Frankly, I am not a hunter. I just could not shoot a deer or a bear. I’ve have never understood killing something, cutting its head off and hanging it on your wall. But in truth, I don’t have a problem with killing something if your intention is to eat it. But people who shoot lions or bears just to stuff them are beyond my comprehension. For instance, people go to Alaska just to kill grizzly bears. Hunters never eat grizzlies. They just kill them for their skins. I just can’t understand the need to kill something if your intention is not to eat it.

And throughout the weekend I listened patiently to dozens of stories about killing this bear or that deer with this or that rifle. And I was good throughout the weekend. I didn’t cause a scene. Fully realizing that I was completely out of my element I kept my mouth shut and I didn’t argue with anyone.

Late Sunday afternoon one of the gun dealers came into my booth and for over an hour gave me a lecture of the virtues of his recently designed mussel loader. Forty five minutes into his lecture I was incredibly bored and reluctantly agreed to swap him one of my Amish rockers in exchange for his 45 caliber rifle. I really didn’t want a gun but he was such a persistent salesman I just gave in. Moments after I accepted the gun my wife came in told me I was nuts. A few minutes after that Tom Welsh offered to swap me an antler chandelier for the gun. And I actually made money on the deal! I told my wife it was all part of a well conceived plan on my part! She was proud of my astute business ability!

The day ended with no major sales but you never know what will happen six months down the line. You only need one customer and that can happen at anytime. The show is best summed up for me with the statement from one of the many people who visited my booth. “Your stuff is worth more then my truck” he said.

ON ANOTHER NOTE

I recently finished my Adirondack book with a final flurry of activity. I had to finish photographing several different homes in Connecticut and New Hampshire, complete the text, write the captions, type out the resource list and a bunch of other stuff. It took about six weeks to complete the last 15% of the book.

Captions are the hardest things to write. How many different ways can you write “yellow birch table with rustic lamp”? Its gets incredibly redundant after a while and I feel like I’m just repeating myself over and over again. And I had to write 375 captions!

In truth, I’m very happy with the book. We’ve had some disagreements on the photo for the cover but it appears that we’ve worked out the difficulties. The next potential nightmare is the actual design and layout of the book. I hate it when someone takes a scissors to my photos in an attempt to “improve” them. There are many days when I just want to crawl in a cave and stay there. Sometimes, many times, I just can’t stand other people. Just leave me alone please. But, unfortunately, I can’t do it. Maybe in a few years… but not right now. I have too much to do. And, in truth, none of us live in a vacuum. Working with others, although never easy, is a necessity in the world today.

Most people will be incredibly happy with the book. Some will hate me for it. I’m certain I’ll be cursed to hell for all eternity by a few. Here’s why. I can’t include everyone in this book and I continue to feature several of the same rustic artists in my books. The reason for that is that they are the best in the business. Their work is extraordinary. They earned it and they deserve the free PR. Not only do I feature their works of art in my books but I sell their products in my store as well. And I don’t take their things on consignment. I buy their products. Many of them live right on the “edge” and they (and their families and employees) need the money.

In truth, I made 395 photos for the book. We’ll use only 350. It’s the editor who makes the final cuts. So if someone is going to be mad contact my editor please…not me.

Further, I am not including the names of any individual artists in the resource section of the book. Only galleries (where you can buy things), architects, designers, decorators, builders and a few other categories will be included. The reason for this should be obvious to anyone who owns a small business.

All in all I love making the photos for my books. And I love getting the slides back from the lab. For me its art at it’s finest. And I love writing the text. As mentioned earlier the captions are another story. Strangely, however, receiving a first run copy of the book is anti climatic. I usually don’t even look at it. I’ve been onto to something else for months.

Usually, I finish my books in Key West. This time however, I got incredibly sick while we were down there and stayed in bed for five straight days. My first day down there however, I went fishing with my family and landed this four foot tarpon as seen above. After that it was all down hill. I had a horrible ear infection and the flu. It just wasn’t fun at all and I feel cheated out of my vacation. Oh woe is me.

This year I’m also coming out with a small $10 hard-cover book called The Cabin. The brain-child of my editor, the book will feature many of my photos that appeared in my other books. It’s meant to be a point-of-purchase, little gift book just to stimulate the interests of gift givers. And at ten bucks it’s certain to sell lots of copies!

Speaking of books this year will see two from me and 2006 will see the introduction of another large book from me called the Western Home. At the same time I will be publishing a large full color book on hickory furniture. Both of these books will be significant additions to the on-going documentation of the rustic movement in America. The following two years will see the publication of four more books by me which will continue to explore and emphasize the art of the rustic!

The books continue to sell so I might just as well stay busy. It beats sitting in front of the TV watching Rambo reruns.

Not surprisingly, the entire rustic movement continues to grow. Along with all the knock-off stuff that’s being made in China I correspond with individual rustic artists in Israel, Rumania and Ireland! It’s very intriguing for me to see the different forms that come out of different parts of the world. In true folk art fashion artists from around the country are using materials found right outside their back doors!

And the Cabin ethic continues to grow as well. The Adirondack Living shows here in the east are enjoying more and more popularity. The first Adirondack Living show this year will be at the Pepsi Arena the weekend of May 7. Call Jeff Frazier at 518 371 6363. I’ll be exhibiting there and am looking forward to seeing old friends and meeting new ones!

A new show in Minneapolis has also caught my attention. The Lake Home and Cabin Show will be held the weekend of April 29. This promises to be a great show as more then 250 exhibitors (myself included) will be showing their wares. Call Dave Greer at 888 471 1192 for more information of this show.

On the other hand here are a few comments that just don’t sit right with me. Something’s I just can’t understand. For instance scalping (I’m referring to buying tickets and then selling them for a higher price……., not chopping someone’s scalp off) is against the law here in America. And yet if you check out the internet you can buy tickets to the Super Bowl at ten times their original costs. Would someone please tell me the difference between standing in front of a stadium selling tickets and selling them on the internet?

I very big into not regulating actions agreed upon by two consenting adults…as long as it’s not hurting anyone. If I want to purchase something that’s not illegal and I have someone that’s willing to sell that item to me…why not?

That goes for prostitution as well (I can see the hate mail now). If two people agree on something and it hurts no one else…why not? If prostitution were legal we would see far fewer violent acts of abuse and rape. The oldest profession in the world has been going on for thousands of generations and is not going to be stopped by our government. The next time you’re in a big city check out the Yellow Pages phone book. Look under massage parlors. Every possible sexual adjective is used to advertise these places. If prostitution is against the law how come massage parlors are not put out of business?

And for the life of me I just can’t see sending someone to prison to twenty years for smoking a marijuana joint. This kind of stuff drives me nuts.

There is also the recent controversy over the brain damaged woman in Florida. Her husband wants her feeding tube disconnected. Some guy just offered him a million dollars to keep her on the tubes. Why doesn’t this guy realize that 40,000 kids die each day of starvation? Why not take the $one million and feed all the kids who need food around the world. How hypocritical can he get?

Then there’s the whole gay marriage thing. Frankly, I think these people are a bit weird. But if they want to get married who really cares? How does it hurt someone if two people find some form of happiness?

On the other hand some friends of mine just returned from a lengthy visit to India. Here’s a quote from their email to me. “ The stench of human and animal life uncared for is something else--overwhelming.”

America is a blessed country. I think we all know that. But it’s not perfect. Actually nothing is so perfect that it cannot get better. Along this same note nothing is so bad that it can’t get worse. Our country was founded on equal justice and equal opportunity. America is not a land of promises….its a land of opportunity. The harder I work the more successful I become. Regardless of the world situation I feel very, very lucky to be living in this country and day and age.

Winter drags on here in the Adirondacks. We lost power last night for four hours and as the temperature dropped into the fifties in my home I was one minute away from starting a fire in the fireplace. Fortunately, the power came back on with no time to spare! The deer still come to nibble on stuff in my back yard and a pair of barred owl now reside here in my backyard and chase the numerous squirrels that eat for free from my bird feeders. They’ll soon be building a new nest and hopefully, will raise a few young owlets. The turkeys still come everyday and pick up corn knocked from the birdfeeders by the marauding squirrels. I look forward to the end of winter. I need to fish in the Adirondack streams and ponds and I want to open my cabin and enjoy the pristine waters of Lake George. I need to see “green” again.

As always comments are welcome. Please be good to your selves and to others around you. That includes your pets and other animals as well. Take care, Ralph

Sunday January 23, 2005

And so here I am sitting in a hotel room in New Hampshire. It’s raining outside. And warm for a January day. I’ve spent the past few days photographing homes in New Hampshire and Vermont for another book. I also delivered a great coffee table to a customer of mine who also allowed me to photograph his home.

Hotels are funny places. I can hear everything that happens down the hall. Even in expensive places like the one I’m in right now….sound travels. In truth, it’s best to be quiet in such places. Right now I’ve heard everything the couple in the next room has said and done all night long. I just wish people would use a little discretion and a little common sense in their behavior when staying in hotels. Fully aware that I would rather not hear what else is going on it’s hard not to listen. Frankly, I have no interest in the intimate lives of others but one cannot just turn off the sound or go to sleep. At least, I can’t.

But along this same line of thought I have to relate an ongoing story that I find, well, interesting. So just bear with me for a moment while I lead up to the story.

Last spring I woke up one morning feeling depressed (which, for me, is not unusual). I wasn’t happy and I knew why. My doctor had just increased the dosage of my blood pressure medication, ordered me to take lipitor to lower my cholesterol and gave me something else to take for what I don’t know. I was also taking nexium for reflux disease and an occasional drug for severe migraine headaches. So I woke up disgusted with myself. At fifty seven if I’m taking all these drugs now what will I be taking when I’m sixty seven? The thought occurred to me that relying on the medical profession for my own health and well being was incredibly stupid. I have to take responsibility for myself. End of story!

So that morning I stopped taking all the drugs, joined the local health club, stopped drinking a glass of wine or two with dinner, quit all the junk food and gave up all the fatty stuff. A month later my blood pressure dropped dramatically, I lost fifteen pounds and felt great. You should try this sometime….it really does make a world of difference.

I’m actually enjoying the exercise more than anything. Three times a week I go to the gym. I shoot baskets by myself for a half an hour, spend another half hour on a tread mill and then spend another half hour lifting weights!

But it’s on the treadmill that I want to talk about. Where I exercise there are about thirty such machines in one room…all facing three TVs that emit no sound. It’s usually crowded in the room. It’s a trendy place and “cool” people go there. Everyone wears earphones so they can listen to their favorite music. No one talks because they’re lost in their own little worlds and the noise from the machines makes it difficult to hear anyway.

So I usually get a treadmill and pound away for a half hour or so and watch the soundless TV’s. On several occasions a woman in her late forties has exercised on the machine next to mine. At first I thought she was mumbling to herself but then I realized she was wearing a headset attached to a portable cell phone. Like everyone else she seemed oblivious to everything else in the room. And so she rambles on and on about all kinds of stuff unaware that other people might actually hear what she’s saying.

I am not a voyeur. That kind of stuff does not interest me. But because this woman has been on a machine next to me “gabbing” away I know everything about her life. I try not to listen but sometimes I just can’t help it. I know all about her son’s “waxy ear build-up”. I know exactly why she divorced her first husband. I know what she had for dinner and how much she hates her job and her boss. I know how jealous she is of her son’s teenage girlfriend. I know that she’s envious of her daughters figure. I know who she’s attracted to (not me). And I know where their going on vacation and I know all about her finances and her new car.

But I had heard enough when she described in detail her recent gynecological exam. I really don’t want to hear that kind of stuff. It’s embarrassing to me. I’m serious. Too much information upsets my day. Some things just should not be discussed in public. I mean, Holy Cow! I stopped using the treadmill early on that day. I played more basket ball and I now go to the gym a half hour earlier just to avoid the entire situation. I have no idea who she speaks with on the phone and I don’t want to know.

A week ago I saw her and her family in a restaurant having a quiet dinner. She will never know that I know her most intimate details. And frankly I wish I never heard all of her stuff. So my point is that people should always use discretion when discussing their lives. Whether it’s in a hotel room or at a gym.

On another point (and I’m not crying in my beer here) I get “lambasted” by somebody just about every time I do anything. No matter what it is I do someone finds something wrong with it. The past September I presented the first annual Ralph Kylloe Award for Excellence in Rustic Design at the Western Design Conference in Cody, Wyoming. The conference is a big deal. People come from all over the country and more then a hundred of the best builders/designers/artists exhibit at the conference. My award is based on ten criteria. Craftsmanship, artistic expression, originality, use of indigenous materials, etc., I gave the award to Doug Tedrow of Ketchum, Idaho. His piece met all my criteria. The prize included $500 plus a gorgeous framed certificate.

Doug and I are very good friends and he has won many prizes at the conference in years past. Some people felt the prize was rigged. It was not. Some people felt my presentation of the award was less then professional. Doug and I are both “easy going people” who take great pleasure in just about everything we do. It was a thrill to give him the award and he enjoyed talking about the piece he made at the award ceremony.

Some people are critical of my gallery and my books and my newsletter and just about anything else I do. Sooner or later I hear all the gossip. And, in truth, I bet a lot of people get criticized for all kinds of things. I get tired of hearing people complaining all the time.

One of my all time favorite comments came from Winston Churchill. “Monuments were never built to critics” he said. To that I add that “monuments are built to people who do things”. Critics are a dime a dozen. Critics bore me. They have missed the entire meaning of life. Life is about doing something and getting good at something. I don’t care what it is…marbles, music, jump rope….anything. Talk is cheap. Critics are mostly jealous people who are afraid to put real effort into something. Critics are nothing more then cowards stricken with envy. This does not mean that we should not listen to the comments of others. It does not mean that we should not learn from the experience of those who came before us. There is a profound difference between positive suggestions and negative criticism. And it’s necessary to be able to distinguish between the two. It’s also critical to know how to offer comments on how to make something better or learn something new and when your comments are nothing more then an attack on someone’s personality. And personality attacks are usually based on greed and envy.

At some point however, all the critics can go screw themselves. And I mean that! I can’t stand people who go through life thinking they are the manifestation of perfection and it’s their right to belittle others. What kind of a person would you be if you didn’t follow your own heart and listen to your own thoughts as to what’s right or not. Where would the world be if we only did what other people felt we should do? There would be no innovation, no creativity, and no originality. The world would be filled with a bunch of wimps. We’d all be clones of people who have nothing better to do with their time and lack the initiative to create something. At some point individuals have to stand on their own two feet and follow their own instincts. So often people are afraid of what others will say. People need to be encouraged to try and to create. Life is too short to be on the constant receiving end of negativity, sarcasm and criticism. That’s a cruel way to live.

But maybe what the critics should do is work 12-14 hours per day for thirty years. Keep a store open every day even Christmas and Thanksgiving. Deal with customers from six in the morning until midnight. Write fifteen or so books. Put a hundred thousand miles a year on a vehicle, support a dozen “artists” even when their not producing. And in general “bust their ass” for a life time just to make something of themselves. Maybe if those people who are so critical of others really put some real effort into their own lives they would appreciate the efforts of others.

But what boggles my mind the most is that what the critics have to say eventually comes back to them. Sooner or later we all hear who has been saying bad things about us. And I, like most people, don’t forget stuff. Why some people prefer to burn their bridges with others is beyond me. On the other hand I will be the first to forgive someone for saying something negative and then apologizing for it. Recently I received a very nasty letter from someone berating me for everything I’d written about in a recent newsletter. I responded to him with a lengthy email. A day later he apologized to me and admitted that he was having a hard time in his life. Today we correspond often and I consider him a friend of mine. Forgiveness and understand goes a long way.

Consider this. When you’re dead and you float on up to the great beyond (which, by the way, is filled with great rustic furniture, log cabins and you go fly fishing and play your guitar whenever you want) someone’s going to ask you what you did with your life. I really hope that each of us can say that we used our brains to create wonderful things and not just wandered around for seventy years “lambasting” others.

So to everyone who is afraid to put their best foot forward I say that you’ll have the time of your life when you create something really great. Forget all the naysayers, pundits and know-it-alls. They don’t know what they’re talking about anyway. Beauty, art and the act of creating reward in itself. The pursuit of the artistic is worth all the effort. I guarantee it.

I feel better now for saying all that. And thanks for listening. Writing for me is actually cheaper then seeing my therapist. And I can write this kind of stuff whenever I want. And I don’t have to wait until every other Tuesday to express myself to my therapist!

On another note…it’s now Saturday, January 22, 2005. It’s five in the morning. It’s twenty below zero outside. I would rather stay in my warm bed, take the day off like normal people who’ve worked all week, watch TV, have a nice meal, take a nap and play with my daughter. But I made a promise to a guy that I would deliver a couch to him at his house nearly three hours south of my home. I suppose if I call him to cancel the delivery he would understand. But I made him a promise. As much as possible I always do what I say even when it’s miserable outside. Doing what you say you’re going to do is one of the most important things in life. You do what you say you’re going to do or you don’t say it in the first place. I’m not perfect and I screw up once in a while. But 99% of the time I do what I say. But its surprising to me that people sometimes think responsibility is a big deal. Holy Cow! We’re supposed to be responsible. We’re supposed to do what we say we’re going to do. Just get the damn job done on time, within budget and with the highest quality possible. That’s what people are supposed to do.

And one more thing (the four cups of coffee I had this morning are really kicking in)! I listened to a TV preacher at four AM this morning talking about the correct way to get into heaven. (I know I’ll get several emails from righteous, god fearing people who will condemn me to hell for all eternity for saying this)…….but according to the TV preacher you will be rewarded for your good acts by getting into heaven and existing happily ever after. People, I believe, should do good deeds because it’s the right thing to do…not because you’ll receive some good from it. Helping others is not about rewards. It’s not about bliss and eternity. It’s about humanity and doing the right thing. It’s about a conscious choice to lift the realm of humanity (and yourself) to a higher level. Yes, we can go out and start wars and fill the world with violence but within each of us is the ability to do what is right in the world. Without going on and on about all this I would like to believe that you know what I’m talking about already. Enough said.

There…….I’m done for the time being…..no more rambling.

On another note the annual Ralph Kylloe Alaska Fly Fishing Trip will once again be held the first week of October. We’ll be going back to the Kenai River in Alaska. There we’ll catch huge rainbow trout all day long. I personally guarantee that with just a bit of effort you’ll catch at least 25 rainbows and most of them will be in the 24” range. I can also just about guarantee that you’ll hook up with several rainbows above 30”. Whether you land them depends on your skill level. You can also catch as many huge silver salmon you want!. Deluxe cabins that sleep four will be about $75 per night (that’s for the entire cabin). The guide, Fred Telleen, is between $200 and $225 per day per person (depending on which part of the river we fish). Meals are extra as is fishing license, tips, candy bars, comic books, etc. All gear is provided except warm clothes, rain gear and waders. See “Fishing Trips” on my website for more information. I can assure you that if you are in the least bit interested in seeing the stunning interior of Alaska and catching some of the most beautiful fish in the world then this is the trip for you!

I wish you all well and I look forward to hearing comments from those who find time to read my ramblings and write back. And so now in the pitch dark and twenty below zero outside I lace up my boots and prepare to load a couch on my truck for a delivery. I know the guy will greatly appreciate my arriving on time. But it’s not a big deal to me because that’s what I’m supposed to do. My best to all of you out there, Ralph

PS. I’m often told that I should stick to writing about rustic furniture. So not to disappoint any one this week we’ll be out in the cold and snow collecting trees, branches, roots, twigs, stems, saplings and other organic stuff to make the greatest rustic furniture in the world! There, how’s that?!

Monday January 3, 2005

Greetings to all of you out there! I hope each of you had a safe holiday season.

So this morning I got up early to get going on a number of things. Like everyone else I have to take care of all kinds of things to keep people happy and to keep the bills around here paid. Once I was out of bed I looked out my window and was pleased to see a large flock of wild turkeys feeding on the corn we leave for the deer each evening. It was about 20 degrees here and the squirrels and song birds were having a great time at the feeders. The animals consume about five dollars a day worth of food around here…about the cost of a shot of good whiskey at a good bar! Fortunately, I’d rather spend my money on animal food then on something that makes me dizzy, burns my stomach and leaves me with a serious headache in the morning.

I then wandered into the bathroom to clean my self up which, in truth, is a good thing! I put fresh toothpaste on my toothbrush and proceeded to clean my teeth which I try to do everyday whether they need it or not! After about ten seconds I nearly gagged when I realized that I had put my daughter’s tube of red paint on my toothbrush rather then toothpaste. And so for the next half hour I tried everything possible to turn my teeth white again rather then the bright red they were. In truth it really was funny. My wife and daughter were laughing so hard that I could do nothing more then look on the humorous side of the situation. In truth, however, I was horrified. Was the paint toxic? Was it permanent? It really wasn’t funny at all but laughing is far healthier then hatred, anger and frustration. In truth, humor is a great coping mechanism and is definitely necessary for mental health! Although I have a long way to go when I think of my own mental health humor helps us through the hard times, strengthens our immune systems and allows us to cope with frustrating circumstances that can and do occur at any moment. So lighten up please…………!

Monday December 20. I had the truck and trailer packed. I was going to make deliveries in Michigan and Wisconsin of some high-end pieces and I wanted to see the homes where the items would eventually reside. We set out driving to Chicago about nine in the morning. After driving for twenty minutes we knew we were in trouble as the ice and snow was piling up. Nonetheless, hoping to out run the storm we drove east for about four hours. Unfortunately, the radio weatherman said that we should expect bad weather all the way through Indiana. We drove nearly five hours and made about a hundred miles. We then heard about a crash that involved seventy cars ahead of us. I turned around. Nothing is worth the safety of my family (or me!). It took us five more hours to get home. That night I got some cheap airplane tickets to Chicago for the next day on the internet. We got to the airport at ten in the morning, checked in and then waited over eight hours while the mechanics tried to fix our plane. They were unsuccessful. At six that night we finally took off on another plane. We got to Chicago at ten that evening. Next time you’re frustrated with something try sitting in an airport with a five year old child and a thousand irritated, angry passengers who’ve been eating nothing but hot dogs and drinking diet cokes all day. I won’t say any more about this because my blood pressure rises. I just wish that the airlines would be sensitive to us stranded passengers and at least offer us free bottles of water. A few “Bloody Mary’s” would have been nice but I would have settled for a free bottle of water.

I’ve been hard at work on my Adirondack book. Such things take time and I am always amazed at how long it takes me to make 350 professional photographs. Traveling is time consuming and expensive as is film, hotels, gas, etc. I also need new cameras but a Hasselblad system will cost me over ten thousand bucks and that’s just for one camera and a few lenses. So unless I win the lottery the new photo system will have to wait.

My FORTY PER CENT OFF any item from Old Hickory sale is going well. I’ve already sold a ton of stuff and expect to sell more once my magazine advertising hits the market. I’ve had a few misunderstandings however. In my gallery we already offer about 20% off of Old Hickory items and our price tags reflect that. A few folks wanted forty percent off that as well. The sale is forty per cent off the suggested retail price as stated in the Old Hickory price guide.

But there’s a dark side to the retail business and it does sometimes irritate me. Here’s the latest scenario. A few days ago a well dressed guy and his family came into my store and were looking at the Old Hickory rockers. We talked for several minutes. The guy was an orthopedic surgeon on Long Island and drove a huge, expensive SUV. For the next twenty minutes he proceeded to beat me up for another twenty dollars off one rocking chair. The rocker, fully upholstered in high quality leather, lists in the Old Hickory catalogue for $1,380. We had it priced for $795. I offered it to this guy for $650 and after him “sniveling and whining” I further offered it to him for $595. Considering that I have to pay to have the chair shipped to me and I had further added several spindles (at my expense) on the lower stretchers, $595 was more then what the chair actually cost me. To my surprise he offered me $575 for the chair and also told me that he was also not going to pay tax on the chair. And he did all this in front of his family! Why the guy felt the need to beat me up for another twenty bucks is beyond me. It’s got to be a power thing.

In truth, I’m not trying to get rich on every sale. I just want to feed my family, play some great music and write my books. But people like that guy are an embarrassment to all humanity. Where people get the “gall” beat up on small business owners is beyond me. Frankly, I was embarrassed for him. He left my gallery irritated and frankly I hope he never returns. And furthermore, I hope he drives his filthy fifty thousand dollar SUV into a ditch.

On the other hand, almost all of our customers are really great people. We socialize with many of them and consider ourselves really fortunate that we can even be around these folks let alone “hang out” with them. Most of our clients don’t negotiate with us over prices. They know that I’m giving them the best price I can.

New Years Eve was fun. At first the owner of the restaurant where we were to play called during the day and told me that they had to cancel the party because few people had made reservations. Because I wanted my band to play I offered to cut our fee in half and to further pay for our own dinners and drinks. Fortunately, the owner agreed. We started playing at ten PM to a small crowd. At midnight we had fireworks and Champaign. Everyone left just after midnight. Because we’re “die-hard musicians” we played to two people in the audience for the next two hours. In truth, we never sounded better. There is something very magical about playing the music you love and playing it well. We’re basically a jam band and played Grateful Dead music with all the free form and creativity inherent is such music. I just wish we had recorded the set as it was art at its finest! We made Jerry Garcia, who I’m certain was up in heaven listening in to our interpretation of his music, proud.

In truth musical instruments become extensions of ourselves. They often become our temples. I loose myself when I’m practicing. I journey into another world. Time stops. I hear and play musical phrases that are highly emotive but have no words to describe them. It’s a personnel Mecca and well worth the many years I’ve spent learning to play.

Ever feel like you’re really alone in the world? It’s because we really are. It’s a lonely place out there and there are, in truth, few people on your side. A rather morose thought, isn’t it! As a person and a small business owner I often feel this way. I’m not kidding. Maybe I should see a therapist or try some drugs but at the old age of 57 I don’t think I’m going to change much now. I take solace in getting good at things. I try to cultivate myself as much as possible. I try to be nice to as many people as possible. I look for humor in everything. I try to do good work. I try to learn new stuff. I look for beauty in everything. I don’t have to work hard at this as art is everywhere. I spend time with my daughter. I love to read and write, play music, make photos. I love being in my gallery. I love answering questions. I give thanks for things. All that makes my life easier. Try making your own little world a great place. No one else can do it for you. We can “wallow in the muck” or we can make ourselves happy. And we are only as happy as we want to be. It’s your choice.

It’s winter time now. I don’t like the gray. I don’t mind the cold and frankly I love a great raging blizzard. But I love blue skies and clear water and green trees. The roads here in the Adirondacks are often closed in the winter and we loose power several times throughout the cold season. We feed the deer in my backyard and it’s great to see the ten point buck again. It’s good to know that he made it through another hunting season. The turkeys are here as I write this and this evening a mature porcupine will wander up to our porch and eat the stuff we leave out for him. “Porky”, as my daughter calls him, is a family member. True to image, he just ignores us and goes about his business with full confidence that I’m not going to grab him.

I have a ritual I do every January first. I wake up in the morning and say to myself “sixty days to go”. Every few days I lower the number. It’s the amount of days left in winter before March arrives. When that happens I know that spring is not far away. Spring is a great time around here. We get to open our cabin and “mess” with our boat. The ice leaves Lake George and ducks and loons make little ducks and little loons. We feed them nightly from our dock. Spring is also the time for flea markets, yard sales and house calls. We acquire lots of antique stuff for our gallery during the spring. Antiques are good. They have character and history.

In the past I’ve often complained about the artists I do business with. In truth, they really do drive me nuts. But the world is a better place because of them. They see things and do things that us “artistically challenged” people do not and cannot. I’m often awestruck when Randy Holden or Barney Bellinger, or Chris Wager or Peter Winter or Veronica Nemethy or Brian Kelly or any number of other artists brings in their latest creation. I admire these people greatly. And I thank god that I’ve had the chance to get to know these people. They are the great artists of our time. They will be remembered throughout all time. Fortunately I’ve been writing about them for a long time and making photos of them and their creations for years. A few years from now I’ll publish a big book about them. They earned it and they deserve it. The great characters in the world need to be documented. Their lives need to be preserved and their stories need to be told. They are an inspiration to all of us.

Business continues to be good here in the Adirondacks. We have several jobs we’re working on and I just hope that we can complete things on time. I’ll be in New Hampshire for a few days in the middle of the month making the last photos for my book on Adirondack design. I can tell you right now that some people will be unhappy with the book. There are lots of deserving architects, homeowners, furniture builders and related artists that should be in this next book. But I can’t include them all. There’s just not enough space. So don’t be mad at me please if your home or piece of furniture is not in the book. It’s not personal.

This February I’ll be traveling with my family again to the Wilderness Lodge at Disneyland in Florida. My daughter will run around like mad, spend most of her inheritance and eat too much cotton candy. I’ll spend at least four hours a day on my computer writing the text and captions for my next book. And in between I’ll take some time off to spin on the tea cup ride, zoom down some roller coasters, watch the fireworks, have my photo made with Mickey Mouse and enjoy the warmth of the Florida sun. After Disneyland we’ll travel down to Key West where I’ll put the finishing touches on my book and submit the entire package to my wonderful editor Madge Baird in Utah. I know she’ll get back to me immediately with a ton of corrections and additions and I’ll get them back to her in record time.

Once that’s done I plan, as I always do, to eat several dozen raw oysters, drink several pina coladas, watch the sunset and sing several verses of Margaritaville at one of the many open air bars, including Sloppy Joes, in beautiful Key West. On the way back to our apartment I’ll feed the many cats that wander the streets and marvel at the quaintness of the area. It’s that traditional stuff that I love. It keeps me going. It keeps me young and it keeps me happy. What more can any one ask in this world? My best to all of you. Ralph

PS. Comments and thoughts are always welcome here in the Kylloe household. It’s always great to hear from folks. Just, please, don’t yell at me about anything. I have not, as of yet, recovered from the travails of being in Chicago for the holiday season. Being in a big city is hard on a country boy like me.

Monday, November 29, 2004

Greeting to you all!

In the past I’ve sold more Old Hickory furniture then any other store in the country. Recently, that has changed. Other stores have large advertising budgets and prime retail locations. We still sell tons of hickory furniture a year but we have lost market share to other, better financed retail outlets right here in my own back yard and elsewhere around the country! And that’s OK. That’s the nature of the financial world we live in today. That’s how it should be.

But I’ve had lots of fun with hickory furniture and even have my own collection that I designed and have manufactured for me by the Old Hickory Furniture Company in Indiana. So let’s have some more fun! Just for kicks (and to make a few extra bucks) I'm having a winter sale on hickory furniture! I’M NOW SELLING ANY PIECE OF FURNITURE MANUFACTURED BY THE OLD HICKORY FURNITURE COMPANY FOR 40% OFF THE SUGGESTED RETAIL PRICE! THAT’S RIGHT….40% OFF! AND I AM SERIOUS! Let’s see my competitors match that! So I encourage you to check with the other stores to see what they are willing to do for you in terms of pricing. Furniture must be picked up from my gallery or we can ship it to you from our location. And that price is good on pieces ordered from the catalogue or things I presently have on my floor! Give it some thought, give me a call or stop by my beautiful Lake George, NY gallery!

A SLICE OF MY LIFE. I’m often asked what my days are like. So here goes.

Tuesday, November 16. I’m up early. I pack my photo gear in my truck and I drive about two hours south to meet up with Marvin Davis. Marvin owns a wonderful company called Romancing the Woods located in the Woodstock, NY area (845 246 1020). They design and construct absolutely extraordinary rustic architectural garden elements such as gazebos, pergolas, benches, railing systems and all sorts of other very cool stuff. Using predominately bark-on cedar their creations are the stuff of druids, elves and woodland mythical creatures of all sorts. I love this guys stuff and I’m thrilled to see the variety of great things he shows me at each of the several homes we visit. Romancing the Woods has provided products for all kinds of residences, municipal parks, private and public institutions such as Disney and more places then I can remember. Marvin is one of the great characters of the world. I featured many of his pieces in my book Rustic Garden Architecture and photographed many of his pieces on this day that will be included in my up coming book At Home in the Adirondacks. I return home late in the day and have a two hour tea party with my five year old daughter and several of her mythical friends!

Wednesday, November 17. The phone rings at 7AM. I’ve been up for two hours already. The plane will pick us up at a small airport. We leave our daughter off at kindergarten and drive to the airport which is fifteen minutes from our house. It’s a small airport but plenty big for our purposes. A pilot and co pilot meet us in the terminal. It’s a hi-tech six passenger airplane. My wife Michele, one of our builders, Robby, and I, get into the plane. The four seats in the passenger section face each other. It’s a very comfortable compartment. There are no stewardesses or cocktails. We each have our own headset and speak to each other and the pilot via microphones. We roar down the runway and glide on down to Long Island. We land at a small airport and are driven to a job site. Frankly, it’s a gorgeous building and I wonder why we were invited to see the place. After a tour the owners asked for comments regarding their building. Keep in mind that the building was designed by a very prominent architect that I know and have done business with in the past. But some things stuck out in my mind and, Hey, if someone wants my opinion far be it from me to not tell them!

Homes have to blend with their environment. Roofs should match the color of the surrounding canopy of trees. The siding of the building should match the trees themselves. The overhangs should be correct. The slope of the roof should match the slope of the hills or mountains adjacent to the buildings. A home should never be on top of a hill. The building should flow. It should not have too many straight lines. There should be plenty of windows. Dormers and shed roofs should not block views. Frankly, I like warm, intimate homes. I prefer smaller rooms. People are social creatures and smaller rooms with low slung ceilings foster intimate relations. I don’t like sitting in a gymnasium. I like an old world feel. I love charm, warmth and character. I can’t stand yellow homes and bright logs. Too many log cabins today are highly finished products made of highly manicured logs that look yellow and plastic. I love old logs and reclaimed lumber. They have charm and character. You know….stuff like that. Actually this is all common sense stuff but I’m always surprised at how many people don’t think about these kinds of things before their build their homes.

In truth, too many people rely on architects and decorators for their opinions. And most of the time such “professional” people have little experience with rustic structures and rustic décor. Most decorators and architects prefer to sit in their shinny offices and have virtually no experience in the woods or pondering the meaning of life. Many times clients are sold packages for the convenience of those doing the selling. I’m also shocked at how many times architects have talked their naive clients into building a structure many times larger then what the client actually needs. (Keep in mind that the larger the structure the larger the architectural fee’s) At times I’m tempted to stick the entire lot of designers and architects in Yellowstone National Park for a year. Maybe that would chance their approach to nature and how people can become part of the rustic world. A home should reflect the taste and personalities of the owner…not the architect or decorator or log home builder. Apart from any biases this is my taste and I am surprised so many people want to hear what I have to say about their projects.

So we went through the home and every time I mentioned something, the owner commented “where you a year ago when we started this project?” Over lunch we all agreed on several of my suggestions and further agreed that I would send down a few builders to make a few architectural additions without destroying the integrity of the original plans for the home. A few subtle rustic additions are far better then “junking” up a place with tons of twigs and bark. We further agreed on the purchase of several pieces of furniture from us and we also agreed to create new bathroom vanities for the home. Once finished the home will be a stunning fusion of rustic design and New England architecture. I look forward to working with the clients and on this project. We slept on plane during the flight home.

November 18. I got up at four AM, packed my bags and drove to the airport. The plane took off at mid morning and I landed in Traverse City, Michigan in early afternoon. The flight into Michigan from Chicago was eventful. It was a small commuter flight. I was assigned an isle seat. Low and behold a huge woman carrying a monstrous bag of popcorn and other bags showed up and struggled to get into her window seat next to me. I politely stood and even helped her to place her things under the seat and in the over head bin. Once she settled in she began talking nonstop. I was thrilled when the attendant asked for volunteers to sit in the rear seats to balance the plane. I immediately moved to the back of the plane. To my horror and dismay the fat woman sat down right next to me on the opposing isle seat. And there she sat for over an hour eating her popcorn and telling me every solution in the world to relieve my cough (I was still suffering the residual affects of a severe case of Whooping Cough). “My aunt Emma always uses honey and vinegar rubbed into my chest when I was young to take care of my colds” she said. “Honey Baby” she called me, “you just listen to old Auntie Bertha here and you’ll be on the mend in no time”. In between sentences she took handfuls of popcorn and stuffed them into her fat, blabbing mouth. This went on for the entire duration of the flight. Sometimes I can’t stand other people and sometimes I just want to be left alone. As the old expression goes “the more people I meet the more I like my dog”!

The Traverse City Airport is a recently completed, gorgeous facility. Small in scale and completed in the Arts and Crafts style the airport is a paragon of ease and simplicity. And even the rental car was easy to find!

And so I drove down the highway toward the small town of Boyne City, Michigan, to meet with rustic builders Tony and Robin Williams (231 582 5057, www.logartinc.com). Arguably two of the best builders in the mid west the pair specialize in peeled cedar furnishings and railings. I spent my first night at the Avalanche Lodge (1 866 227 1709) and was the guest of owners Billy and Angela Kuhn. It’s a great place and if you’re in the area check them out. They’ll make you feel right at home!

In the morning I met with Tony and Robin and was given a tour of some of the homes in the area. I was at first a bit skeptical as upper Michigan does not have the reputation or appeal of Aspen or Lake Placid. Nonetheless, I was both shocked and thrilled as we entered home after home that was complete with gorgeous rustic furniture and great rustic architectural elements. These were not modest “wanna-be” dwellings but rather finely tuned structures that were monuments to design and thought! Over the four days I was there I toured ten homes and made great photos in each. (I must admit that I was a bit thrilled and surprised when each of the homes had several copies of my books on their coffee tables. Most of the owners were not in but left specific instructions for me to sign each of their books! Cool stuff!)

On Saturday evening Tony and Robin and a bunch of other folks came over to the Lodge where I was staying for an evening celebration. We played music for several hours. A word of caution is noted here. Robin Williams (AKA Robin Berry) is a world class singer/musician and frankly is on par with greats such as Carol King, Joni Mitchell, and Judy Collins. She is widely known in upper Michigan and has three great CD’s on the market. In truth, I was thrilled to play with her. I just wish I had been there early to learn a few more of her songs. All in all I didn’t do too badly. I only slaughtered three of her songs but did OK and actually may have even added something to several other songs we played that evening.

While in Michigan I was introduced to their 26 year old son, Homer Williams, who was the contractor on several of the buildings. When Homer was eighteen he sailed in the artic circle and along the Viking path of Leif Eriksson in a replica knarr (a Viking transport ship). All in all the homes of Homer were extraordinary and his parents were thrilled to show them off! If anyone needs a great contractor contact Homer Williams in Boyne City!

But Tony and Robin are not to be underestimated themselves. Their staircases and railings were extremely well made and blended beautifully with the homes where they had been installed. Their furniture was masterfully crafted and was inspiring, inviting and functional. There are lots of people out there doing bark-off cedar but Tony and Robin are artists. They are definitely museum quality people. They go way beyond the ordinary and enter the often seemingly unobtainable realm of the artistic. I love their stuff and would sell it in my gallery if they weren’t so far away. Nonetheless, I’ll be featuring their work in my Adirondack book due on the market about nine months from now. If you ever get a chance to do business with them you won’t be disappointed in the least. They’ve been hiding in upstate Michigan for quite sometime but are about to burst onto the national market!

The flight back to New York was again eventful. The plane broke down in Chicago and we sat on the ground an extra two hours while the mechanics scrambled to get the damn thing to fly again. But I never complain about airplane mechanics. Believe me, I want them to do a really great job. They can take as much time as they need. Fortunately, I did have three seats to myself and was able to stretch out for the duration of the flight!

Tuesday, November 23. We had an early morning installation on Lake George. So after taking my daughter to school we delivered about ten pieces to a home about a half hour north of my gallery. In the home we placed a gorgeous antique oriental carpet, several pieces of Old Hickory including a couch, four bar stools and a few rockers. We also delivered a few small tables and other goodies that added ambiance to the home. I liked these clients. They were a pleasure to do business with. I won’t do business with jerks. I don’t care how much money is involved. Life is too short to put up with crab-ass people.

We were back in the gallery by eleven AM were I returned several calls and started eliminating more then fifteen hundred emails that had come in during my four day absence. Most of the emails wanted me to buy Viagra, fake Rolex watches, hair restorer, life insurance, or land in Costa Rica. I declined all the above and began responding to about thirty legitimate emails that were business related. By noon Michele asked me out to lunch and we enjoyed a quiet meal at the local Chinese buffet.

That afternoon I met with a few clients who visited the gallery. I also spoke at lengths with a client in Texas who is just beginning a huge project in Wyoming. We’ll be designing much of their furniture and installing it as their homes nears completion.

I also spoke with architect Larry Pearson. Larry was featured in my book The Rustic Cabin. I’ll also be doing another book on his work that will appear about two years from now. The new book, titled The Rustic Home, will again feature extraordinary western rustic homes. Larry is incredibly appreciative of my efforts and sent me three complimentary plane tickets, hotel and car reservations so my family and I can attend his December 10 Christmas party in Bozeman, Montana! I love having friends in high places!

Wednesday, November 24. Got up at 3:30 AM. Worked on my computer till 6:30 AM returning emails. Went back to bed at seven and slept till 9. One of my builders showed up at 9:30. He’s an extraordinary builder but drives me nuts. He’s always late. Always. I promised one of my best clients that he would have two pieces of furniture for Thanksgiving for his Connecticut home. My builder promised me that it would be no problem. I have been informed minutes ago that he has not even started the bookcases. I hate this guy. He’s embarrassed me so many times and disappointed clients at almost every juncture. But he’s really good at what he does. Like a fool I give him more money. I hate myself for doing this. I loose sleep over this guy. But great art is worth every cent. I will not give him more custom orders.

I get a call from Peter Winter. Peter’s struggled for the past few years. Full of talent and capability I regard Peter as one of the great rustic builders of our time. I’ll help him as much as I can. We all, myself included, have internal demons that can haunt us at any time. I wish he could focus himself and return to his usual pattern of creativity and productivity. I love the guy but we can all be our own worst enemies.

Daily I spend time with Brian Kelly. Brian is a very capable builder who runs a shop on the back side of my storage barn. My business would not run without him. He is not an employee. He’s a private contractor like all of my builders. But I buy everything he does and give him most of my custom orders. We speak at lengths about design. I don’t know if he values my opinions or asks me questions just to make me feel like I’m important. Today, along with numerous other decisions, we decide that we can’t do a bureau according to a customer’s specs because the drawers, the way they are drawn, are too big. A fifty inch drawer is just too big unless we put it on gliders. I’ll email the client later today to discuss options. Brian and I also talk about several other projects. It’s also the time of the year to collect materials. So sometime during the next few weeks we’ll head out to the woods.

I also speak briefly with Lori Toledo who does my picture frames and mirrors and occasionally keeps my gallery open when I’m out running around. Johnny Bennett also calls. John is a talented guy who builds furniture for me and also plays drums in my band. He’s busy for News Years Eve so I find another drummer for the gig. I speak with the rest of the band and they are fine with the change. I talk with Tom Welsh. He wants my help to build a garage and loft. I tell him to hire a professional builder so it’s done correctly. His time is better spent doing what he does best and letting a professional contractor do what he does best.

Barney Bellinger showed up here mid day. We’re delivering an extraordinary piece of furniture to one of his clients on Lake George. I wanted to photograph the piece in its permanent setting rather then in my gallery or studio. The delivery took much longer then I thought. It was too dark in the building so I decided to wait until after the Christmas season to photograph the piece. I also got a lengthy tour of the owner’s home and helped move several pieces of furniture. Barney is the paragon of responsibility and sanity in the world. I often speak with Barney daily about different projects and the local gossip. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say a nasty word about anyone. The only criticism I’ve ever heard about him was that (and I’m being honest here) he needs to comb his hair once in a while. I just wish that was the only negative thing ever said about me!

By the end of the day I responded to about thirty phone calls. Along with all the business calls I receive calls daily from people inquiring about antique rustic furniture including Old Hickory. As the historian for the State of Indiana on the hickory furniture movement all questions to the historical society in Indianapolis regarding hickory furniture are deferred to me. Frankly, I enjoy talking about the subject. The only down side is that many wanna-be antique dealers just want to know what their piece is worth. Once I give them a range they tell everyone that Ralph Kylloe offered them $x for their piece. Throughout the day I speak with my editor via email regarding the introduction to my Adirondack book. They want an extensive history of the Adirondacks included. However, there are dozens of books that offer a detailed, concise history of the region. I’m not convinced that I need to repeat a bunch of material that appears in dozens of other books. I decide to continue reading about the area and will make the correct decisions once I get into the serious writing mode. I also write my publisher a lengthy email stating my concerns for the design of the book. I hate split page photos and I don’t allow photos to be “butted” up next to each other and I don’t want my photos chopped up just to fit a size that the designer deems necessary. Actually, for me, the design of a book is the hardest part of the book producing experience. Everyone wants to stick in their “two cents”. I see my photos as complete in themselves and to change the images would ruin my perfectly composed (at least I think so) still life photos. I take this stuff very seriously. But we’ll get the book done and out on time and no one will ever know of the battles or the super human effort on the part of many people to get the book out!

In the evening I’m attacked by another spell of horrible coughing. I go to bed early. I’m tired of being sick.

Thursday, November 25. Thanksgiving day. I swore I would do no work on this day. But I rose at 5AM and responded to about a dozen business related emails. We’re having dinner at a friend’s house. It will be a low key day.

And so it goes.

Here’s some reading material for you. I am a voracious reader. Reading keeps one on their toes. Several magazines including Newsweek, the Smithsonian, National Geographic, and a few others pass through my hands each week. Books I’ve recently finished include:

“Living History” by Hilary Clinton. An absolutely great book. Few people are aware of her long history of involvement in all kinds of important social issues.

“My Life” by Bill Clinton. An absolutely fascinating book. One of the greatest books I’ve ever read. It’s long but well worth the time to read it. All we ever hear from the press is negative comments on this guy. America was blessed to have this guy as our president for eight great years! It was a relief to finally hear the “other side” of all the so-called scandals.

“Trump: Think Like a Billionaire” by Donald Trump. A very basic book written by a very arrogant ego maniac. I’ve read all of his books. This one is the worst. His Atlantic City properties have recently declared bankruptcy. He says it less then 1% of his total worth. The courts will settle the bills for ten cents on the dollar. Hundreds of small people will more than likely go broke over this. The courts should go into Trumps personal fortune and make him pay all of his bills owed to contractors, small business people and the banks that fronted him money for the Atlantic City projects. To not do this is absolutely immoral and criminal.

“Skipping Christmas” by John Grisham. Grisham is the supreme American story teller. I’ve read all of his books. This is a great one!

“A Viking Voyage” by W. Hodding Carter. A really great book about a great modern adventure.

“A short History of Nearly Everything” by Bill Bryson. A science book this will help people to understand the very nature of the world in which we live.

It’s now nearly noon on Thanksgiving Day. We’re going over to a friend’s home and will not doubt enjoy a great dinner and grand company. On this day I am especially thankful for being alive and the blessings that come across my path. My daughter continues to grow and is the thrill of my life. I still love my business and the challenges it often throws before me. My wife holds everything together and I am eternally grateful to her. Be good and thank all those who came before us. My best to you, Ralph

Sunday, November 14, 2004

Well folks, its grunt and groan time for me. I’ve had a very severe case of Whooping Cough for the past five weeks. Believe me when I say it’s horrible. You don’t want this. I’ve passed out three times from violent coughing. I won’t ramble on about all this but at least its not lung cancer. After two rounds of antibiotics, more blood work then I care to remember and x-rays I’ve been told that it can last four to eight weeks. So, in truth, I’m really not a happy camper right now and I should not be writing this as I’m certain that people will think I’m nuts or off my rocker. Apart from that I beg your forgiveness but writing for me is sometimes very therapeutic. So, for the next few paragraphs I’m going to ramble on about stuff that’s bothering me and if you want to skip this part of newsletter I understand completely.

Just to deny the latest rumors that I’ve heard about myself, I can attest to the following, including;

1. My marriage is not falling apart.

2. I am not having an affair with someone in Montana or anywhere else for that matter. Never have and never will.

3. I am not about to go out of business.

4. I don’t have lung cancer, or any other fatal disease,

5. I’m not opening a “clams on the half shell” cart in Key West. (Although that’s a great idea!)

6. I am not moving to Alaska to become a fishing guide. (Although that’s also a good idea.)

7. I am not about to declare bankruptcy.

So don’t worry, I’m still here and still selling the greatest rustic furniture ever.

So the election is over. Frankly, this has been the worst election I have ever seen. I’ve never seen so many people polarized over candidates and issues. Strong feelings and opinions have dominated the political scene for sometime now and I am happy the election is over. Frankly, I can’t stand George Bush. He’s as arrogant as they come. I don’t like the war. I don’t like the deficits. The economy is sinking fast. I don’t like snowmobiles in Yellowstone National Park. I don’t like more pollutants in the water and on and on. I want American kids going to good schools and eating good food and having good health care. I want America to grow and prosper. If these are liberal ideas and out-of- date then so be it. Maybe I’m old fashioned. But health, prosperity and peace in our time does not seem a lot to ask of our leaders. I’m tired of slums, homeless people and drug addicts. As a nation I think we can do better. I would rather have my hard earned tax dollars spent here on new schools then in other parts of the world.

But I suppose now is the time to give George the benefit of the doubt. He is the president and commander in chief. As citizens we can “beat him up and bitch and complain” for the next four years or we can offer suggestions and let our voices be heard by our political leaders. Frankly, I prefer to solve problems rather then “bitch” all the time. Complaining is, in itself, an act of cowardice. If you don’t like something then it’s the individual’s responsibility to do what ever they can to change it. Complainers, like Rush Limbaugh, are nothing more than cowards. I would like to see him run for political office and try to effect some change. But he won’t do it because he is in the truest sense of the word a coward. And you can tell him I said it!

I have a crystal ball in a secret room in my house. It has never failed to tell me the truth. We were all appalled with the destruction of the Twin Towers on 9/11. The loss of more than five thousand US citizens was a defining moment in American history. A tragedy beyond words.

But my crystal ball tells me that in 2005 we’ll have a terrorist attack far more lethal then the 9/11 event. And more than 150,000 Americans will lose their lives. Hundreds of thousands of more lives will be permanently damaged. It will be the most horrible thing to ever happen to us.

Yes folks, at least 150,000 Americans will die from the use of tobacco products next year. Seems strange doesn’t it! We complain about the loss of the Twin Towers and the 5,000 who died. But we seem oblivious to the terror in our own land and the horrible diseases the terrorists inflict on us. And its our own citizens who are the terrorists. And they laugh all the way to the bank. They know tobacco will kill you and the government does nothing to stop them. Why? Because of the tax money involved. I recall hearing our president declaring that it is his responsibility to guard the citizens of America. He stands there and says that he will protect us. That is his role in the world today. How hypocritical can he be? And we even subsidize farmers who grow tobacco when their crops fail or the price for their product falls below a certain point. Frankly, all this disgusts me. I can only call our politicians absolute criminals who deserved to be flogged in public.

And the terrible thing about all this is that we file lawsuits against the companies thinking this will stop them. It doesn’t. More and more kids get hooked everyday and will eventually die a miserable, cruel and completely avoidable death. And the President of the United States is completely aware of all this. He should be ashamed of himself. He is allowing the most terrible act of terrorism ever committed to continue. The entire thing disgusts me.

Alright I’m done. I just spent the past fifteen minutes coughing my lungs out. Whooping cough is like primal therapy. Ones guts are just about blasted out of you. I won’t complain anymore. You can now read the rest of the “Greetings” without fear of having to endure more of my ramblings.

“Adirondack” is hot right now. I’ve had the best six weeks (in terms of business) that I’ve ever had. We’ve taken on several more projects and have been asked to oversee the design and construction of other projects across the country. We’ve also sold a ton of great stuff to customers in many different regions of the land. Along with this many owners are adding rustic architectural elements to their new homes and adding a few pieces of high-end furniture to their settings. Further, many homeowners are adding an Adirondack room onto their existing structures. The market continues to grow.

I’ve always told people to buy fewer items for their settings. At the same time I encourage people to buy really high end items as such pieces always go up in value. Great pieces are objects of art in themselves. Objects of art become treasured family heirlooms. They bring us great pleasure.

Great rustic objects are not only beautiful and well made but they should functional as well. A great chair needs to be comfortable and sturdy. Drawers in bureaus and cupboards need to work smoothly. You cannot go wrong by buying pieces from known makers and well established rustic artists.

In truth, rustic objects should be approached with a casual demeanor. The mere presence or sight of these objects should require you to relax. You should want to kick your shoes off and put your feet up on the coffee table. “Take off your tie and put on your old shoes” demands rustic furniture. Great rustic pieces are full of humor. You should “giggle” to yourself when you see them. They have to be fun. They have to inspire. And if you really spend time thinking about a great rustic object you’ll find yourself full of awe at the originality, passion and freedom inherent in nature. And we need to feel these things once in a while. We can’t just think of work or finances or other stuff all day long. We really do need to keep in contact with nature. Rustic furniture and rustic settings calms our fears and renders anxiety to a nonexistent state.

This past week I exhibited at the Adirondack Living Show in Brewster, NY. This was a great show. I sold several pieces of very expensive furniture and met many individuals who are in the initial stages of building a rustic home or adding pieces to their settings. In truth, there were no great crowds or long lines waiting to get in the building. Rather, and to the delight of just about every exhibitor, the right people were there. It was a consuming crowd. Full of interest and desire the crowd was as sophisticated as they can get. Many asked endless questions. I sold more than fifty of my books and would have sold more but I ran out. I brought my best pieces and nearly sold everything by the end of the show.

And there is a reason for all this.

Several of the individuals who are now building furniture are doing museum quality work. And, in truth, it’s taken a while for people to develop their skills and elevate their crafts to the level of the artistic. And the public is now aware of the aesthetic qualities inherent in well- made rustic furniture. I’ve always contended that rustic furniture is not a fad. It’s not a trend. Rather, it’s a very profound folk art that speaks deeply to the souls of those who appreciate great art. People who appreciate beauty are certainly not locked into only one form of art. A person who appreciates beauty looks not only at paintings and statues but also appreciates great music, literature, architecture, fashion, dining, landscapes and, yes, rustic furniture.

And so rustic furniture and rustic settings are gaining momentum within the realm of traditional interior design and architecture. The mere though of rustic stuff sends a little sense of “joy” coursing through my body and as I sit here and write this I feel calmer and more relaxed. I feel good sitting in my antique antler office chair writing this stuff. Its good therapy for me and I feel better about myself. We just installed a new rustic bed this morning in my gallery. Made from huge yellow birch trees, the posts still have their roots attached. On the bed are several rich, earth tone textiles and soft pillows. It’s very inviting. My three legged cat Jackie is already snoozing on the bed. Think I’ll wander on over and join her for a quick nap.

OK. Its now an hour later. I’m up! Fortunately no one came in the gallery and no one called. The nap was great! I encourage everyone to spend an occasional afternoon in quiet solitude.

Actually, I’m glad I’m up. I have a client coming from New Hampshire today and later on I have to meet with a contractor concerning a large project about two hours south of Lake George. We’re involved in a really great project there and we need a very talented contractor to complete the job.

And so here’s my schedule for the next few months. Next week an individual is sending their plane for my wife Michele, one of my builders, Robby and me. They’ll fly us down to their home for ideas on interior design and how to add rustic elements to their home to make it more rustic. We’ll be back the same day. The following day I’ll be in Michigan to photograph some of the works of Tony and Robin Williams. They build absolutely great things from local cedar trees. I’ll spend about five days there. Before Thanksgiving I’ll install a few pieces of high-end furniture in an absolutely great home in Connecticut. While there, I’ll introduce the owners to landscape architect Geffrey Redick who can do wonders with just about any piece of property. Geffrey and I will also tour a site in the Catskills where architect Larry Pearson is developing a great new home for some great clients of mine. We’ll be in Chicago for Thanksgiving and then I have to travel to Georgia to photograph several homes for another book I’m working on. Before Christmas I will be in New Hampshire for several days photographing more homes. Christmas will be spent in Chicago and on New Years Eve the Ralph Kylloe Band (Holy Cow…I have my own band!) will play before a packed house at San Soucis Restaurant on the east side of Lake George. In January I’ll spend about two weeks in Montana working on projects and photographing homes developed by my good friend architect Larry Pearson. Queen Jacque Spitler, who runs Larry’s office, will give me a hand as we document several of the greatest rustic homes ever built (and I’m not kidding!)!

In February, we’ll spend a week at Disney’s Wilderness Lodge in Florida and then down to Key West for another week of sunshine. In truth, I work about five hours a day on these Florida trips. Once I finish making photos for a book then I have to write it! And 350 captions for photos as well! So it’s not all fun and games.

March will be full as well as we will need to install furniture in several different homes here in the east. March is also a serious crunch time for my literary career. My editor keeps me glued to my computer and we discuss (actually battle), at lengths, the design and layout of my books that are scheduled to be at the printing company. In truth, I photograph many more homes and furniture then can possibly appear in my books. I know that some people will be disappointed when the final cut comes and I will never hear the end of it from some of those who are disappointed. But I can’t please everyone so please don’t be mad at me. I do the best I can!

In April I’ll be back in Florida and May begins my crazy summer season. People, thank God, finally start showing up here in my gallery. It will be nice to have people come in as it can get lonely here in the winter. I’ve also been asked to contribute several articles and photos to magazines such as Cabin Life, and numerous others. We’ll see what I can produce. This coming summer I’ll be back in Montana for a few weeks to complete work on another new book titled “The Rustic Home”. It will be another great book. Actually, Jacque Spitler of Larry Pearson’s office thought of the title. The book will show more homes by Larry and his talented crew. Regarding Larry Pearson, I see all kinds of homes. Daily I get portfolios from designers, architects, etc., all over the country who want me to do books on their projects. They are all well done and gorgeous and deserve recognition.

But the homes of Larry Pearson speak a language not commonly heard in the world today. They have stunning character and charm. In truth, my photos and my words are an inadequate measure when defining or documenting these homes. Warm beyond belief, the homes embrace you and make you feel welcome. I feel excited just to be in them. They are the stuff of legends.

A home must be more then an extension of an architect or a builder. A great architect creates an extension of the personalities of the owner. It’s a personal thing. And a profound relationship between architect and owner must exist. Chemistry is everything. Passion is necessary. Clients and architects should never be adversarial. One must compliment the other and greatness will be the result of the collaboration. Art is the antithesis of mediocrity. Art happens only in the presence of great passion.

But an architect is only as good as the person who builds the homes. I’ve featured the creations of Yellowstone Traditions of Bozeman, MT in many of my books. They are active partners with Larry and build many of his homes. They add the class and character. Often they are the unsung heroes of great design. Their work will also appear in this next book.

And so now winter is almost upon us. The leaves have fallen. Ice covers my windshield each morning. I dress my daughter in warm clothes before I take her to kindergarten. Soon the deer will wander into my back yard to feed off the remnants of my green lawn. And soon I’ll start feeding them again. I hope the ten point buck made it through hunting season. The days are shorter now and I hope that on this Veterans Day Americans will stop for just a second to realize that all those who served would probably have wanted to be home with their loved ones, raised a wonderful family and pursued a career of their dreams. Tragically many of them died. I can only pray that they died for a valiant effort. I, personally, thank all of them. My best to you, Ralph

Monday, October 18, 2004

Here I am sitting in a small lodge in Alaska. It’s now early in the morning, the sun is not yet up, the bears are still wandering around and in two hours I’ll be fishing on the mighty Kenai River for monster rainbow trout. Fishing has been extraordinary. More on this later.

Regarding my newsletter…I just wonder how far I should go with this. Between 250 and 650 people read my “Greetings from Ralph” every day. Usually, every time I send out a new “Greetings” I get “lambasted” from at least one person who disagrees with me on everything. So be it! I’m a big boy and I can take it! Whenever I mention God I get several messages from people who condemn me to hell for all eternity. Politics is something else. I get lengthy letters from right wing fanatics who hate everything.

Nonetheless, if I’m going to be condemned then I might as well be damned for what I really am! What would I be if I only did and wrote things to please others? How could I look at myself in the mirror? So be it! So here’s a few stories that I find interesting and that may bring a chuckle or thought to a few “hardy” souls out there.

I spent the past twelve days in Alaska. I had an absolutely great time. My flight out of Albany was memorable. The airlines are saying they are going broke because of fewer passengers and higher costs of fuel. The fuel thing I can understand. But I live on airplanes and during the past two years every one of the flights (about 40 per year) I’ve been on has been full of passengers.

I usually get an isle seat because I like to get up every hour or so to stretch my legs. On the first leg of this trip to Alaska I was assigned a window seat. Shortly after I sat down several people began filling the seats around me. It was an unusual group of individuals. In an attempt to be politically correct shall I refer to them as “calorically challenged”? Or how about “physically challenged” because of excessive obesity? In truth, and I’m not pulling any punches here…they were fat. I mean really fat.

Fat people have a different challenge when it comes to seating. Movie theatre, sports stadium and airplanes seats are too small to accommodate them. Fortunately for such challenged people the arms on airplanes seats can be retracted. Tragically (for me and other ectomorphs) that means that they will occupy a seat and a half or more! Interestingly enough each member of this group on this flight brought along their own extension strap for the seat belt that must be worn on airplanes. The normal seat belts were all too small for them. So there I sat for two hours….”schmoosed” in a corner of an airplane. I couldn’t move if I wanted to.

But here’s the real kicker. Each member of this group must have had a huge dinner of beans and broccoli before they got on the plane. Every few minutes one of them would rise up out of their seats and fill the air with vile gas. I’m not kidding. And after each episode they would chuckle to themselves and say “Oh, how embarrassing. Please excuse me”. With that their entire group would break into riotous laughter! And this went on for nearly two hours! I‘m certain that they were all members of the A.F.S. (that’s the American Flatulence Society). As I recall the experience I can only chuckle to myself. I have nothing more to say on this matter least I get myself into trouble with someone who feels that a discussion of this subject is in bad taste or politically incorrect.

The next leg of the flight (Chicago to Denver) was less interesting but significant. While using the bathroom onboard the plane I found it easier to lean my head on the ceiling of the restroom. Suddenly the plane took a brief tumble thus knocking my head violently against the structure on which I was leaning. When this happened I bit my lip so hard that it bled for three days. I should have had it stitched up but I was too proud for that. So I suffered in silence for the first part of my trip.

It was peak foliage in Alaska. It was magnificent. But fishing is a very personal, human thing. In my book FLY FISHING THE GREAT WESTERN RIVERS I commented on several personal maladies that can afflict anyone, at any time and in any occupation or past-time. I refer to one of the maladies as FBD. Actually the real name is Fishing Bi Polar Disease. Here’s how it manifests itself. You’re having a great time with your buddies. For some unknown reason everyone around you is catching fish. And frankly, you’re happy for them. But as time goes on you want to catch a few fish yourself. And if you don’t catch any fish as the day passes then the downward spiral into mental chaos grabs hold of you. First you get quiet. Then depression sets in. Then you wish you weren’t there. Then, if the people you’re fishing with are your employees you think about firing them. If your wife is there catching fish you think of divorcing her. You start to dislike everyone. You’re now in a free-fall. You curse the day you agreed to go fishing with these people. They start to give you all kinds of worthless advice. You take it personally, almost as though you’re not as good as everyone else. They get louder and act like they’re gods gift to humanity. You get real quiet. You’re dangerous now. You practically hate everyone and everything. But then you catch a fish and then a few more. Then you catch a few really big fish and you return to normal. Life is good again!

This happens to just about everyone and also occurs in just about any activity whether it be sports of any kind, occupations or just about every other endeavor. It certainly happened to me on this trip. Early one afternoon I went to swat a few black flies that were buzzing my head. I accidentally hit my new glasses ($350) and they flew off my head and into ten feet of water. They were gone. I could not read anything. With that I descended onto the oblivion of FBD. I caught no fish for the rest of the day. In the morning it got worse. Every one else was catching huge rainbow trout. But not me. This went on for nearly three hours. I was upset, depressed and angry for loosing my glasses the day earlier. (To make matters worse I succeeded in insulting a fisherman from another group who then threatened to break every bone in my body….and he wasn’t kidding). (Fortunately for me, my guide and other members of my group told me that the guy just really went off the deep end and it was not my fault.) But in time I caught a huge, 31” rainbow trout and then several others. The clouds rolled back and I came back to life. Success, no matter what endeavor you are partaking in, definitely brightens ones life.

The twelve day trip went so well that I wish I was back in Alaska fly fishing right now. Our guide, Fred Telleen (the world’s greatest fishing guide), put us on fish when few others were catching anything. Our cabins at Gwins Lodge in Cooper Landing were warm, dry and comfortable and the food in Gwins Restaurant was superb. Seven of us went on the trip and we all had a great time. I will say that fishing in Alaskan rivers has ruined my ability to fish in the lower 48 states. Nothing compares to fishing in Alaska. We caught at least 25 trout a day and as many silver salmon as we wanted. An average trout was a fat 24” and the largest I caught was 31”. My buddy Brian Correll caught a gorgeous 32”, 18 pound rainbow. Each day we would land two or three rainbows above the magic number of 30”. We will be returning there next year so get your reservations to me early please.

The week before my Alaska trip my wife and I spent a week in Cody, Wyoming, at the Western Design Conference. It was spectacular. I enjoyed spending time with old friends and seeing the works of builders who are on the cutting edge of design and construction. While there I presented the first annual Ralph Kylloe Award for excellence in design. I presented the award in front of seven hundred people to Doug Tedrow of Ketchum, Idaho. Along with ten criteria including workmanship, form, balance, use of indigenous materials, artistic interpretation, etc., I was looking for originality and uniqueness. Because it is a western show and thusly named I also wanted something that embodied the true western spirit. Doug’s piece, for my taste, went well beyond the ordinary. I also didn’t want just another desk, or bed or dining set. I was also looking for something a little “off the wall” and something that set a new standard. I wanted it to reflect the builder’s personality. Doug’s piece stood right out. Original in every way it matched Doug’s personality perfectly! In truth, it reminded me more of a tall cupboard then anything else. You’ll see the piece and several other Tedrow pieces two years from now in another book I’m working on relating to the western home.

Doug is a unique guy and a great friend of mine. Before I presented the award to him I asked five others attending the conference, all “heavy hitters” in the design field, to identify their favorite piece. Each commented, without my prompting them that they had felt Doug’s piece represented the qualities I was looking for. The prize consisted of $500, a beautifully framed certificate and significant photo coverage in an upcoming book by me on western design. During the show it was decided that architect Larry Pearson, Bozeman, Mt., and I would jointly fund the prize. Jacque Spliter, the director of Larry’s office and queen of all architectural office managers also helped me judge the show and will be involved with the presentation of the prize in coming years.

I should also mention, however, that judging an already juried show is extremely difficult. I opened my comments at the award presentations ceremony with the notion that I should split the award money I was giving between each of the hundred or so individual artists because there were so many great pieces there. But each of the exhibitors would then only receive $5 (not necessarily a large sum these days). In truth each individual exhibiting at the show was presenting a remarkable piece of artwork. To say nothing of the fact that great western builders such as Lester Santos, John Gallis, Ron Shanor, R.C Hink, Dan MacPhail, Diane Cole, Andy Sanchez and many others showed astonishing craftsmanship and great artistic abilities. And then there was the obvious problem of the great jewelry, black-smithing, fashions and leather work that was part of the exhibit. Nonetheless, I eventually followed the criteria before me and decided, based on the rules (that I wrote) before me that Doug’s piece was exceptional. Fortunately, everyone I spoke with after the presentation agreed with me.

The only down-side to the awards that were presented was the difficult reality that this was the Western Design Show. It is a show and exhibit geared to the culture and heritage of the west. Several people commented that although it is a western show that the “Best of Show” prize was given to an Adirondack piece. The award was not without controversy. In the future the show promoters, owners, judges and other participants should carefully review and clarify their criteria so no confusion exists surrounding the awarding of prizes.

While in Cody Barney Bellinger, Jimmy Covert and I took an afternoon off and fished a river about an hour outside of Cody. Spectacular in every way the setting was gorgeous. High mountain vistas, a dry desert climate and clear running water, it was a respite from the travails of running a small business. On Thursday night about a hundred and fifty of us took over a local restaurant in Cody. Lester Santos, I and a few others entertained the crowd with an impromptu, four hour electric blues/rock & roll jam. All kinds of people came up to sing a few songs and harmonize with the other singers. It’s amazing what a few drinks can do to inhibitions.

From there we went up through Yellowstone Park to a small historic Inn called Chico Hot Springs Lodge. This is a glorious place. Complete with an enormous hot springs, swimming/soaking pool we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, after a long soak in the hot water, dining in their old world, five star restaurant. I fished in the park and on the Yellowstone River and caught a few fish for my efforts. From there we traveled north through Montana. Montana is a strange place. One small town was having its annual “Testicle Festival”! Obviously feasting on Rocky Mountain oysters the towns residents appeared to be enjoying every second of the experience. Not to be out done a few miles down the road a neighboring town was having their annual “Breast Fest”! Chickens were slaughtered in town and huge bar-b-que roasters were quite active in the towns square. From the looks of the participants a grand time was had by all!

The week before the Western Design Conference I exhibited at the Adirondack Mountain Antique Show. Held annually in Indian Lake, NY, the show was busy for the two days it was open. I sold more then a hundred books, met lots of great people and spoke at lengths with old friends. I must say that I am surprised at how prices of antique Old Hickory have escalated during the past decade. The availability of antique Old Hickory has been dramatically reduced as well. If I had to begin collecting rustic furniture today I would never be able to acquire what I have in my own collection. And even if I could find it I probably could not afford it anyway. In truth, a few months ago, I went through my old records and realized that I’ve owned nearly 15,000 pieces of antique Old Hickory furniture. For years, beginning in the the late 1970s, I traveled through Indiana and knocked on just about every door in the state asking about and trying to buy pieces of old rustic furniture. I had the time of my life and actually made a fairly good living at it! All this will documented in a new book I’m working on doing called “Indiana Hickory Furniture” (or something like that). This will be a full color book that will appear in the fall of 2006. In truth I’m really excited about this new book. My book A HISTORY OF THE OLD HICKORY CHAIR COMPANY is nearly sold out of 6,000 copies and the new color book should be a very welcome addition to the history of rustic furniture in America.

Here’s one for you. Just think folks we are presently 7.34 trillion dollars in debt. That’s right! And four years ago we were nearly debt free. The present administration wants us to believe that because we have “tax cuts” that prosperity is just around the corner and there these is money in every pocket. But consider this. Just imagine that each one of us in America is sent a new credit card. Very nice. Each person including my wife, my five year old daughter and myself has a credit card in own names compliments of the US Government. The only problem is that each of us (my daughter included) presently owes $35,000 for the national debt that exists on our new credit cards. And the interest on that amount is astounding. And that has to be paid off. In my house and probably most of the homes in America if I have that much debt on my credit card I dramatically cut my spending and look for a second job! But our government as of today is passing a bill to be able to increase our national debt. Frankly, I’m not happy about it and will vent my rage toward this irresponsibility on voting day!

On another note (happier note, I might add) work on my next book “AT HOME IN THE ADIRONDACKS” is progressing nicely. It will be my most impressive book yet. I’ve photographed several incredible homes here in the park that will “knock your socks off”! The book will be out at the end of August next summer. I’ve also enjoyed writing it and find that I am writing from more of a personal point of view at this time in my life. Here’s a brief excerpt.

“I woke to brightness. I was sleeping on the shores of the Hudson River here in the Adirondack Mountains. It was early October. The leaves were stunning. In glorious color they actually rattled as a soft breeze caused them to sway in motion. It was like a gentle ballerina moving gracefully to the sounds of subtle music.

The light flowed over a mountain blanketing me with rays that began leaving the sun more then seven minutes earlier. It was cool that morning. My breath was visible as I gazed out of my sleeping bag. A thick fog rose from the river as I peered into the scene before me. The water was clear. No one else was around. I crawled from my sleeping bag and shuttered for a moment as I adjusted to the cold. Dew blanketed everything. I pulled on my waders, tied my wading shoes and pulled on other clothing to make me more comfortable. From the back of my truck I picked up my fly rod and wandered the few feet to the rivers edge. From my vest I took a box of flies and gazed at them for just a few seconds. I then watched the river for signs of life. There was none. Because of the cold and the time of year tricos, PMD’s and other bugs would not show their faces till later in the day. I gazed at the scene before me. My mind wondered.

Months earlier my mother had passed away. She was old and I was prepared for her eventual passage to another life. As I spoke to her when she was in the hospital I asked her to tell me that she still loved me. “More then you’ll ever know”, she said. Those were the last words she ever spoke. A day later I told her it was Ok to leave this life, to go where she felt comfortable. Two days later, in her sleep, she died. I was in the same room with her asleep on the couch. In time I made arrangements for her funeral. Things went smoothly. It was done. I returned to my home in the Adirondacks.

But on this morning I was struck with the reality of life and death. Sorrow and grief hit different people at different times. I wanted to speak with my mother. I wanted to tell her that things were OK. I wanted to tell her that I was successful and doing well. I wanted to tell her about her grand daughter. I wanted to talk with her. But I could not.

As I looked at the scene before me the morning fog filled my eyes. The leaves were dying. Winter would soon arrive. Death comes to all things. I trembled and shuddered in the cold. I bowed my head and thanked god for my time on the planet. There are no answers for some things. I returned to my vehicle, broke down my rod, removed my waders and drove home. The beauty of the river on that day would carry me through my grief of the day. The mountains, in all their old strength and grace, gave me courage to continue. The grace and the color of the trees brought a moment of respite and reminded me of the beauty of all things. I would take solace in that. All things come to an end and nothing is more important then to fully experience the full joy of the moment. The beauty of the Adirondacks and its rich heritage, in a strange, unspoken way, allows me to go on.”

On another note what are the things you enjoy? What’s important to you? I’m a busy guy. I get to do many of the greatest things in the world. I know lots of very impressive people (as well as less than impressive people). I fly fish all over North America, play music in front of large audiences, stay in places most people only read about, write books, speak in front of large groups, have a great family, buy and sell art. Nothing in my life is unpleasant (other then occasionally having to argue with rustic furniture builders) (but that goes with the territory). But the thing I enjoy most in my life is a good conversation. To really connect with someone else, to learn something new or to have someone else really understand me is light years above anything else. In truth, this doesn’t happen often. Being a good conversationalist is not easy. Neither is being a good listener. Just because you’re talking with someone doesn’t mean you’re having a conversation.

Good friends are important. We can’t get along without them. Kind words and actively listening to others is far more important then we realize. Many of us, as the old expression goes, live in quiet desperation. I know this from experience. Sometimes just a pleasant word from someone helps get us through the day. Take care and keep in touch, Ralph

PS, The Adirondack Living Show, a really great place to see all things Adirondack, will be held in Brewster, NY, this November 5-7. Call Jeff Frazer at 518 371 6363. This is a really great show and well worth the price of admission. Stop on by my booth please. We’ll swap stories and have a bit of conversation!

Tuesday, September 14, 2004

Life is a funny thing. Just when you think you’ve got a grip on things you get slapped in the face.

Being in a band is a fairly cool thing. It’s not like winning a Nobel Prize but it does have its perks and admirers. A few weeks ago I was playing with a band in a bar in Northville, NY. About a hundred or so people were there. We started playing at around ten or so. Shortly I noticed with pleasure that a number of people were watching me. I have a few solos in a few songs and the audience applauded wildly at my efforts. This is very cool, I kept saying to myself….and it was! So I played harder and threw in a few rock and roll moves and a few contorted facial looks just to let everyone know I was working hard and really into the music. A few songs later the audience grew larger and the shouts of encouragement became much louder. I was really hoping that the women in the audience would rush the stage and throw their underwear at me!

In time I turned to adjust my amplifier and I noticed a large screen TV directly over my head. On the screen was a baseball game with the sound turned off to accommodate the music from the band. During a change in innings the audience dissipated and wandered back to the bar or other points in the tavern. Much to my disappointment it was not me they were cheering for. It was the New York Yankees. Sometimes life is very cruel.

So much for the music scene. A few weeks ago I retired from being in a permanent band. The pay was terrible, the playing until two in the morning exhausting, the personality conflicts discouraging and the creativity was nonexistent. Besides…. being gone three and four nights a week plays havoc with ones marriage and profoundly interferes with my prime responsibility of raising my five year old daughter. Further, I now don’t have to put up with the rantings of right wing fanatical musicians. I’m happier now that it’s over.

My wife and I, along with my sister-in-law Tina and my daughter Lindsey spent the past ten days in Montana photographing homes for a book titled WESTERN RUSTIC HOMES (or something like that). I have to have the book done in sixteen months and it will hopefully be on the market in the fall of 2006. Traveling with ones in-laws can be interesting. Tina is the only person I know who carries more luggage then the Queen of England. Further, everything she brings weights a ton. And at each new hotel she has to bring all of her luggage into the room (which is usually on the second or third floor.) Not just an overnight bag, mind you, but everything including hair driers, make-up bags, several changes of clothes, fifteen pairs of shoes, etc., has to go into the room. For fear of being ostracized by the family I dare not mention her snoring but I will comment on the fact that she also takes her time about getting ready in the morning. Regardless, she does take excellent care of my daughter when I’m working and she is (when she’s not disagreeing with me or telling me how to run my business) an excellent conversationalist and does enjoy an adventure or two!

So off we went to the airport to begin our trip to the west. As a fly fisherman I often bring a fly rod with me on the airplane as carry-on luggage. I’ve done this for years and no one has ever expressed any concern whatsoever. I guess now the cash-strapped airlines are looking to raise funds however then can. They told me I could no longer carry on a fly rod and proceeded to charge me $80 for the additional luggage. Fortunately, after considerable conversation with the supervisor I received an apology and free transportation for my two foot long fishing pole case.

I also carry camera gear and film with me. I don’t like to put the film through the x-ray machine because it may fog the film. So I politely asked the guard to hand examine the box. “No problem”, he said politely. With that he proceeded to open the sealed box, unwrap the packets of film, rip open the individual film box and then tear open the sealed aluminum covering of the roll of film. This took about thirty seconds for one roll of film. To my chagrin he felt the profound need to open each of the one hundred and forty rolls of film I had with me. And so there I stood there for nearly an hour patiently watching him do his job. I didn’t say anything and I didn’t argue with him. I behaved myself. Secretly, however, I wished he would fall down the elevator and break both his legs.

And so for the next ten days it rained each and every day in the Bozeman, Montana area where we were staying. The houses we photographed were all stunning. One house, certainly architecturally extraordinary, was perched on a mountainside with views that could envy the gods! Tragically, a professional interior decorator decided to experiment with the clients money and decorated the house as a gay, Manhattan, fifties brothel. Honest to god…it was horrible. Both the architect and I wanted to throw up when we saw the furnishings. For some reason gaudy red fifties wing chairs, French rolled arm chairs and other fifties stuff don’t go in rustic mountain structures. I could go on and on about this but sometimes it’s necessary to use common sense (and a respected interior designer) when decorating a ten million dollar house.

Just to help out anyone who is struggling with this problem the wonderful folks here at the famous Ralph Kylloe Gallery will be more then happy to offer suggestions or completely design and decorate your home for you. Or, if you want another individual here’s a list of my favorite decorators from different parts of the country, including:

1. Dianna Beattie Interiors. Dianna is the queen of rustic design. I’ve featured her homes and several of her clients homes in many of my books. NY 212-722 6226 or MT 406 682 5700.

2. Larry Pearson Architect/Interior Design. Larry is the king of rustic architecture. The interior design department of his company can create extraordinary interiors when no one else can! MT 406 587 1997

3. Hilary Heminway Interiors. Hilary has a significant background and experience in the field of rustic interiors. I love her work. CT. 860 535 3110

4. Barbara Collum. Barbara has decorated more high-end Adirondack homes then anyone I can think of. I’ve known her for going on twenty five years and spent many happy hours with her in her glorious Adirondack Great Camp. NY 315 446 4739

5. Heidi Weiskopf Interior Design. Heidi is a very talented woman who can create warm magic in any household. I’ve featured her homes in my books and will do so again in the future. AZ. 480 515 9180

During this recent trip I did find many amusing things that brought a chuckle and sense of wonderment to my heart. I did fish (even though it rained everyday) in the Gallatin River quite often. Along the river are several recreational parking areas where people with huge RV’s can park their rigs and live like pioneers and mountain men for a few days. One couple had pulled in and set up camp in their sparkling clean trailer. Day after day they ran their generator and watched soap box operas on their TV in the comfort of their RV. I know this because I parked near them for several days and walked right past them to access the river that was just a few feet outside their metal door. This went on all week. On the last day I had to chuckle to myself as I noticed that they were watching, on their flat screen TV, “fly fishing the Gallatin River”. Sometimes I really wonder about sanity of all humanity.

This past weekend was the Rustic Furniture Fair at the Adirondack Museum in Blue Mountain Lake, NY. About 60 exhibitors showed their creations. I did two book signings and partially furnished the Designer Show House with some high end furniture. The Fair is a juried show. As expected Barney Bellinger and Randy Holden showed extraordinary furniture. Randy won “Best of Show” and the “People’s Choice” award. Barney had won the “Best of Show” award the previous year.

Barney showed up with a stunning cabinet that sold immediately. The piece will appear in my book, “Adirondack Design”, that will be out a year from now. His pieces show the talent of arguably the most advanced and influential builder ever. Randy is in the same league. His work will also appear in my upcoming book. Randy and I had diner the night before the show and talked art over a bottle of whisky until late at night. Both Randy and Barney recognize that their talents are a gift and that they are “blessed” to be able to do what they do.

Needless to say that both of them have influenced any number of rustic furniture builders across the country. Showing the true personalities of artistic geniuses they are flattered to see their efforts influencing the works of others. Interestingly enough, they are often asked how they feel about others “knocking off” their work. Rather then raising a fuss, filing lawsuits (as others have done) or creating a commotion within the arena of rustic furniture both of them have calmly stated that imitators (that’s my word) raise the bar of creativity for them. Rather then rest on their “laurels” both of them “push the envelope” of design and strive for more innovations in the field. And they succeed!

Frankly, both Randy and Barney are the leaders in the field and their works are destined for museums. On top of all their talent both of them are genuinely great people. And frankly, its one of the thrills of my life to personally know them and their families. (I just wish I could afford their work)!

The show was blessed with great weather! After months of constant rain and cool weather the clouds rolled back and blessed the exhibitors with the warm and bright rays of light.

Some interesting things are occurring within the rustic arena here in the East. Although a significant and affluent crowd showed up at the show, sales, according to many of the exhibitors, were off. Many exhibitors had hoped to sell more. In truth, many of the rustic builders are placing themselves out of the market. Many of them see the prices that the advanced guys are getting for furniture and feel they should get the same. Sadly, many of the “less accomplished” builders feel that their products are worth significantly more that what the public seems willing to pay for them. Unfortunately, some of them stand fast on their prices and hold out for “long money”. And then they complain about all sorts of things when their products don’t sell. And then tragically, they show up at the next show with the same furniture and again fail to sell their pieces. This becomes a vicious descending cycle. It’s far better to reduce the price, send it down the road, pay ones bills and then create a better piece for the next show. That’s how businesses grow. And that's how artists get better at their craft. So many of the builders show up at the shows with the same stuff and they wonder why things aren’t selling. Most builders don’t realize that most of the same retail crowd shows up at the Rustic Furniture Fair, The Adirondack Antique Show and all three of the Adirondack Living shows. Exhibitors must grow or their wives will divorce them and they’ll go bankrupt. I am sorry to say that I really don’t think that mediocre sofa tables, log beds and stump based dining tables are worth six thousand dollars. I also don’t think many of the pieces of furniture I saw at the show were worth the prices their owners were asking. And apparently neither did the consuming public.

Further, along this same line, so many of the builders have not grown with their art. Some builders have shown up with the same style chairs, cabinets, beds, and mirrors for years and years. Frankly, they’ve become so predictable its boring. People have to grow with their art or else they’ll be left behind and forgotten. At the same time, I’m visually tired of the same style sofa tables, bedside tables, dining tables, mirrors, shelves and other designs. A great artist pushes his craft. One cannot stay stagnant. Art is about creativity. Its not art unless something is created. Doing the same old stuff is nothing but repetition. It does not distinguish ones self.

And so enough of that. I just hope someone gets the message.

On the 22nd of this glorious month of September the Western Design Conference will open its doors. Located in Cody, Wyoming, the show is one of my favorite events of the year. Including a stunning fashion show, eight great one hour presentations on all things rustic, the conference includes a truly great exhibit from the best rustic furniture builders in the West. This year several of the builders from the East will also be showing their works. Professionally run and juried the exhibits are stunning. Further, the people who attend the show are worthy of admiration in themselves. There are more architects, interior designers, decorators, writers, builders, artists and just plain extraordinary folks then one can hope for under one roof.

Wednesday night is the Fashion show and Thursday night is the awards dinner. I’ll be giving out the first annual Ralph Kylloe Award for Excellence in Design at this show. The prize will include a framed certificate, cash (not a lot) and a feature of their works in my next book on Western Rustic stuff! I am looking forward to seeing the show and handing out the award!

On another note I had a surprising experience over this past weekend. I met someone at the Rustic Fair who commented that he was afraid to approach me because I’m always with my “clique” of heavy hitters. I really hope I don’t convey that image. I have my friends but I am always open to meeting new people. I shook hands with a few hundred people over the weekend, autographed a hundred or so books, and talked with a hundred or so people who acted like I should know them. In truth, I’m a lonely sort of guy who needs all the friends I can get! And I love compliments to boot! So if there are any shy people out there who want to chart with me for a few minutes let’s have a drink and tell a few stories! And you can also show me all the photos you want of the new rustic furniture you just built, your new rustic home and grandkids as well! In truth, I don’t have leprosy and I don’t have plutonium in my pockets! So speak up would you please.

And so tonight I’ll be going fishing on a small pond with my chatty friend Tom Welsh. We’ll have a great conversation…..he’ll talk for an hour, I’ll utter one sentence and then he’ll talk for another hour or so! So be it. It could be worse. I could be fighting a war in Iraq. God bless those guys over there. I bet every one of them would prefer to be home with their families. And frankly I wish they were home and we would get out of the Mid East. That region has a five thousand year history of violence and chaos. I sincerely doubt if we’ll be able to solve their problems. We have enough problems here and for some reason I wish we could have better schools, health insurance, etc. here in America. But, until the first week in November it looks like we’re stuck. Please don’t forget to vote.

Just think gang, we are now 7.1 trillion dollars in debt again. And almost all of that debt has occurred in the past three and a half years. And we can’t eat fish from more the 2/3 of the rivers in America because of mercury, lead and a zillion other industrial pollutants. If you don’t think that’s a big deal just for a second think of the fact the kids aren’t supposed to get leukemia, women aren’t supposed to get breast cancer and men aren’t supposed to die of all sorts of other environmentally related diseases.

Well, Florida is about to get socked with another hurricane. Maybe we should try to save some money to help Americans who have paid taxes all their lives. Let’s hope that sooner or later the arrogant attitudes of those who are running this country realize that the citizens of this great country come first.

Monday morning. I just got back from having my eyes examined and just maybe I should have had my head examined as well. I stopped in the local drug store that advertised a full pharmacy and all kinds of health aids. It does not seem unreasonable to me to think that the store does its best to keep people healthy. As I was about to pay the check-out person for my purchases I noticed with interest that they were also selling cigarettes. Am I out of my mind or should a store that sells health products and prescription drugs be selling something that will make you terribly sick and die? So I asked the clerk about it. She called the manager and he said “look Bozo……we’ll sell what ever the public wants and we can make a profit on”. I left without paying for the items I wanted. Maybe I think too much and maybe I should just mind my own damn business. But if we all just went about and not paid any attention to anything the world, I’m certain, would quickly become a horrible place. Vigilance is the price we pay for a just, honest society.

So on the 29th of this month a group of seven of us will be heading off to Alaska for fall fly fishing on the Kenai River. The rainbow trout are huge at that time of the year. I’m thrilled to be going. I promise I’ll look out for bears.

On Tuesday, November 9, I’ll be the key note speaker at the annual Adirondack Tourism Conference in Lake Placid. I feel strongly that “presentation is everything” and that the Adirondacks has something special to offer. I’ll be encouraging conference participants to recognize our Adirondack heritage and to incorporate that heritage into our business efforts.

Well folks, that’s about all I can think of for the time being. I hope everyone out there is married to an interesting person and if not then its necessary to be interesting yourself. And don’t forget that effort defines ones life. We’ll be remembered for what we do and that real honor comes from trying. Keep in touch, be good to your self and others and don’t forget to compliment those who deserve it. And just remember that it’s OK to toot your own horn once in a while. If you don’t no one else will. My best to all of you, Ralph

Saturday, August 14, 2004

It takes a full year for me to do a book. The photos take up to eight months for me to complete. Then I have to write captions for all 350 photos. After that, I write the text, sidebars and all the other stuff. It’s incredibly time consuming. One house took me over a week to photograph. The light was incredibly low and I had to use lengthy time exposures. I took the photos to the lab everyday and was disappointed to find that the photos weren’t “right”. Eventually I was satisfied and used the photos in my book RUSTIC STYLE. Right now I’m working on five new books. I have to have them all completed in two years. Each will have new photos, new text and new captions. I also have a five hundred page novel with my agent and am beginning to work on another.

I also have a band. We do all originals. We practice every Wednesday night and play both nights every weekend. I get home at around four in the morning after each gig. This week we are going back into the studio to work on our third CD of original material. I also have two galleries and a dozen people I have to work with everyday. I’m also the very proud parent of a gorgeous five year old daughter.

After much encouragement from numerous of my associates we are now taking a new direction in the ever evolving saga of rustic design. We have entered into agreement to purchase land here in the Adirondacks. On this tract we will be designing and constructing high quality homes that I’m developing with architect Larry Pearson. We will also be designing and furnishing the homes with the finest rustic furniture available. Bedrooms will be complete with birch tree beds. Kitchen and bathroom counters will have old world wooden slab tops. Living areas will be complete with comfortable leather chairs, oriental carpets, antler chandeliers and extraordinary Adirondack furnishings. Staircases will be complete with organic railings and kitchens will look great with rustic cupboards. Fireplaces will be constructed with dry stacked stones. Frankly, I’m thrilled to be heading in a new direction. It’s a new challenge for me.

I’ll also be traveling a lot this fall. The last two week in August we’ll be in the Bozeman, Montana area working on a few other projects. Early September sees the Adirondack Antiques Show and the Rustic Furniture Fair. September 20-27 I’ll be at the Western Design Conference in Cody, Wyoming. There I will present the first annual RALPH KYLLOE AWARD for excellence in design to one of more then a hundred of the finest rustic furniture makers in the country. This will be a very prestigious award and the winner, along with a cash award and a great looking framed certificate, will be featured in one of my up coming books! The first two weeks of October, I and a group of friends will be in Alaska fishing for huge rainbow trout (we still have room for two more individuals). November 5-7 is the Adirondack Living Show in Brewster, NY. Later that month I’ll be in upstate Michigan working on another project and then in early December I’ll be fishing for steelhead on Vancouver Island. Christmas will see the Kylloe family in Chicago for a traditional celebration with our families. And that’s just my schedule for the rest of this year! The coming spring seems almost more chaotic!

In truth, I see myself as busy but I really love everything I do. I don’t want to stop doing anything of the things I’m involved in. I consider myself retired. Actually, I retired almost thirty years ago when I started my “rustic stuff” business. In all honesty, and this applies to me only……we all have our own lives to lead and we follow our own inner voices, but I can’t stand just sitting around. I don’t watch much TV and I don’t consider myself a spectator. Life is not about “one hit wonders”. One victory in life is not enough. It’s what you do for an encore that makes things great. It’s about having a lifetime of effort and making a contribution to something…anything.

I recently met a man I knew in graduate school whom I had not seen in nearly three decades. He runs a huge “Mergers and Acquisitions” firm in New York City. His base pay is nearly three million a year plus bonuses and perks of all kinds. He hates everything about his job. He hates the people he deals with. He can’t stand the City. I feel bad for him. Money is not everything (although it helps). Life is about art and beauty. It’s about family and friends. It’s about helping others. It’s about constantly cultivating and developing ones talents. It’s about enrichment. It’s not so much about how others feel about us. Rather it’s how we feel about ourselves that counts.

Numerous studies have been done on this kind of stuff. One of my favorites is asking very old people about their lives. Everyone has clearly stated that they wished they had spent more time with their families. Every one has stated that they wished they had used their artistic talents more. I like to follow their advice. I don’t want to be suddenly old and have all kinds of regrets about the way I conducted my life.

But, ……..something has to give. I can’t do everything. I can’t do it all. I really can’t. The Keene Valley store is doing well. We could easily make a very good living just from that one store. But, what has surprised me most is that we have not picked up any new customers. We have sold a ton of stuff out of the store but these clients had already been to my Lake George Gallery. So why bother with two stores? Running the store is not cheap and as we look at the numbers I really wonder if it’s been worth it. My client base has not changed and people who buy high end furniture definitely do their shopping before they write out the checks. And besides, Keene Valley is a long drive from Lake George!

So we are putting the Keene Valley store on the market. This way we will be centralized and people don’t have to run around looking at different things at different stores. In all honesty, however, I think the Keene Valley gallery is a great looking store. Every time I walk in the front door there I’m struck with a sense of awe at how impressive the little gallery is. And in truth we’ve made many new friends there. We’ve had dinner at the Ausable Club several times and spent many enjoyable evenings with new friends from that area. But there is only so much I can do. So that’s the story. I just wanted to clarify all this before I hear all sorts of rumors. And no, we are not moving to Romania, I am not having health problems, we’re not going bankrupt (although I sometimes wonder), we are not getting a divorce, I am not opening a hot dog cart in Key West and I am not going to jail for bank fraud. (In truth, friends have heard all of these rumors about us…none of which are true.)

So much for all that. On to more interesting things. Every once in a while I get a real nasty letter from some misdirected person. The latest was from some right wing wacko who questioned my patriotism. So just to really aggravate that individual and a few others who send me their ultra right wing, conservative hate-everything emails consider this.

I am a sympathetic kind of a guy. If someone needs a helping hand I’ll be right there. We all need friends and if you can’t be nice to others in this world then your heart is just not in the right place.

So how about starting a relief fund for past and present members of Al Qadea. You know. Those are the guys who blew up the USS Cole and the Twin Towers in New York. Right now I’m certain they’re now having their fair share of problems. For instance, they have to eat and I really do wonder how they support themselves. I worry about their career paths and their job references. What do they put on their resumes? Do they get paid holidays or health insurance? They have to do something for a living. What about their kids and spouses? How do they pay their rent? How do they buy food? Do they worry about college tuition for their children? Are they good parents? Do they invest in the stock market? Or US Savings Bonds? Who pays their property taxes? Do they pay taxes? Do they save receipts and declare their costs as business expenses? Do they get any sick days? What about their retirement funds? Do they get vacations? Where do they go on holidays? I feel bad for these guys. Life must be hard for them.

So maybe we should start a relief fund for these guys. Let’s have a heart. After all this is America. So if any members of the above mentioned terrorist group are having problems just let me know. I’ll put out the word and maybe we can help. We’ve got a nice new compound in the next town over from me and I guarantee you’ll get three good meals a day, plus other perks! Of course there are bars over the windows and screens to keep out the black flies and misquotes, but I guarantee you good heath service and a comfortable bed. So keep it in mind!

I am certain that some people will be shocked by the above but I hope that the normal people out there will see the humor in this proposal. Humor helps get us through the tough times. It lightens our loads and helps us to tolerate the inequities in life.

On another thought I think we have to take a very serious look at something that’s going on for a long time whether we like it or not. I think we need to reconsider the public use of marijuana. When I was in college (undergraduate school), some 35 years ago, on occasion I smoked the stuff. And I inhaled it! But frankly, I never liked it. I became very withdrawn and paranoid. I felt everyone was laughing at me (they probably were!). I did it because it was the thing to do in the late sixties. I haven’t touched it in more than three decades. I have no interest in it. I didn’t become a heroine addict or commit violent crimes because I used it.

But consider this. More then 300,000 people are arrested each year for smoking marijuana. The amount of crime associated with possession of the stuff is staggering. The costs of finding, prosecuting and jailing the people who use this stuff is also staggering. The amount of time spent on the problem by our enforcement and judicial system is enormous. And there is real danger out there as well. Each year many policemen are tragically killed in the line of duty trying to eradicate the problem. Further, the amount of violence associated with drug lords, gangs and dealers boggles the mind. Well, I hate to say it but the use of marijuana is not going to go away. It’s here to stay. And we need to figure out how to eliminate the problems with the use of the product.

It should be legalized, grown by entrepreneurs and closely regulated by the government. It can be highly taxed thus creating a sudden windfall for the government. These funds can be used in any number of cash strapped agencies such as education, health care, social security…….any way we want to use it.

If we tolerate alcohol that causes nearly 25,000 highway deaths a year and a loss of nearly $300 billion in lost productivity due to alcohol abuse. If we tolerate the use of tobacco that causes more then 200,000 deaths a years then we should tolerate the use of marijuana. The amount of crime and violence in our society would fall dramatically and immediately.

Last week I attended a Grateful Dead concert at SPAC in Saratoga Springs, NY. More then 25,000 people attended. Every one of them (except me) was smoking something illegal. Its time we rethink the use of this stuff and stop being so hypocritical about its use and the laws that govern it. So much for that. I’m certain many people will disagree with me but our jails are filled with pot smokers and it can cost up to $30,000 a year to keep one individual in jail for a year. I’d rather have my hard earned tax dollars spent on something far more productive.

On another note I am about half way complete with my Adirondack book. I haven’t figured out an appropriate title yet but the book promised to be my best yet! I’ve photographed several extraordinary historical homes and several contemporary rustic homes as well. I look forward to it being on the market a year from now. Here’s an excerpt from my daily ramblings that will appear on the book:

ADIRONDACK DESIGN

Reflections on the Morning

A cool breeze fell on my face. I woke to see the first shadows of morning. The first sounds I heard were a gnawing outside my window. Squirrels were again chewing on the moose antlers I had hanging above my door at my cabin on Lake George. My cat lay sleeping at my feet. My wife and daughter did not move. I quietly left the room, put on a bathing suit and left the cabin. Like metal cans being ripped in half crows talked to each other breaking the morning silence. The squirrels scattered from my roof ascending the massive one hundred and fifty year old pine trees that shelter my home.

I walked the fifty yards from my cabin to the lake. A gaggle of some twenty geese were feeding on the finely trimmed lawn that border the beach. A mommy duck guides her brood of tiny ducklings gently on the water. I gazed at the lake for a few moments. Purple light fell on the scene before me. In the distance a massive home juts out onto the lake on a thin peninsula. The home appears more of a mysterious castle as its shape is blurred by early morning fog. Loons called in the background. I wondered about their thoughts.

I entered the water. It was cool and calm. Like the waves of light from the sun each slow step sent small waves in all directions. After weeks of rain the water has began to clear. Waist deep now my feet are clearly visible. At chest deep I slowly submerge myself into the quiet of the water. My eyes are open. The cool water caresses my face. The world of fishes is now upon me. The world of people is now gone. It’s good to swim under the water. There is no sound. I slowly lift my head up for air. A goose honks at me. I return to the depths and swim for several minutes returning to the surface every minute or so for air. The water is now about fifteen feet deep. The bottom is clear to me. It feels good to move. I glide slowly back toward shore.

The geese are still on the lawn feeding on green grass. The sun sheds its first rays. The dark retreats. I stand for several minutes experiencing the setting as a conscious participant. I make no sounds and move very little. The fog now ascends upward never to be seen again. Inside me the demons are quiet. I choose not to acknowledge them. My thoughts are clear. I am calm. I am at peace for the moment. That happens to me in the Adirondacks. I like it here.

And so the fall is nearly upon us. This has been the summer that never was. July saw 26 days of rain and cool temperatures. The trees across from my gallery are showing early signs of color. The grass is still green from all the rain. And the nights are cooler then usual. The August Perseids meteor shower will be beginning soon and we’ll spend a few nights on our boat in the middle of the night watching bits rock from distant worlds slam into our atmosphere. The Isonychia hatch (bugs) is early this year and huge trout on the Ausable River are feasting on these strange gray creatures. The change of season brings new thoughts and great anticipations. The world is changing and we as humans must change with it. I look forward to the new challenges and the new adventures that await. Take care, Ralph

Wednesday, July 28, 2004

Do not ever forget that ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny, only, however, in an abbreviated way. After that everything else is simple!

A few weeks ago the Adirondack Living Show was held in Lake Placid. It was a great show. I sold more pieces of furniture and took more orders then I had in a long time. I also sold a ton of books. The gate was excellent, the food good and I mingled throughout the three days with old friends and new acquaintances. In truth, the show is not to be missed by individuals with an interest in rustic lifestyles. Not surprisingly, other show promoters have taken notice and similar outdoor related shows are planned for 2005 in Wisconsin and Minnesota. I doubt if I’ll attend or show furniture at either of these shows but by the mere fact that they will take place is another indication of the growing popularity of “life within the realm of rustic”!

What is apparent to me, however, is that many of the same retail people attend numerous shows here in the Adirondacks. Whether it be the Adirondack Antiques show (Sept. 18. Indian Lake, NY) , or the Rustic Furniture Fair at the Adirondack Museum or the Adirondack Living Show the same faces appear. I easily recognize at least half (although I don’t remember all their names) of the people who show up at these shows. But here is my point. In order for these shows to continually grow exhibitors must bring new and different furniture to sell to the many eager customers who come to not only look but buy as well. People come to these shows to be inspired as well as to purchase items for their homes or retail shops. Some of the exhibitors have shown the same “stuff” at these shows over and over again. It’s critical that we maintain a look of freshness and creativity when it comes to what we are offering and selling. I say this not as a criticism to my fellow dealers but rather as a way to bring in new customers and to maintain very high standards. If we show the same old stuff customers will stop coming to the shows. We’ll all profit by showing new and exciting things. And we’ll demonstrate to the public our capabilities as artists in an evolving field who are at the top of our professions.

Business is a funny thing. It’s not for the “weak of heart”. On a daily basis I have people showing up here wanting me to buy their creations. Many of these are “fringe” people living on the edge of society. Unfortunately, I cannot buy everything. In reality, I buy very little from most people. Because their items are not of the quality I want for my gallery I have to say “no” to many people. Saying “no” is not fun for me. I really am not a “cold hearted guy”. Every time I reject something my wife and I both experience a sense of sadness. For me it’s not easy to say “no” but I have to do it anyway. Many of those I reject are suddenly struck with a sense of almost real grief. It is not a comfortable moment for either of us. But, for me, it gets easier as time goes by. I generally tell people exactly what I’m looking for and how they can improve their creations. I offer encouragement and many times people come back month after month showing me their latest innovations. To see growth in people abilities is reward in itself.

Some people, however, leave here visibly upset and angry. Some are incredibly insulted that I didn’t pay five thousand dollars for their stump based table. “Barney Bellinger sells his stuff for thousands of dollars and I’ve got the same thing right here for half that”…..I’ve heard many times. The problem is that Barney is a true innovative artist working on the cutting edge of the rustic arts. His pieces are destined for museums. And I point out why to people who bring up the subject.

A few times I’ve actually been frightened by the people whose items I’ve rejected. I’ve had to contend with insults from builders and on several occasions I’ve heard negative things about myself from others. The comments are invariably traced back to someone I rejected. You can’t please everyone in the world and its not ones job to try. Nonetheless, keeping ones standards high and resolving problems immediately are the foundations to any successful business.

My books have also brought me my fair share of headaches. I’ve had hundreds and hundreds of craftspeople, architects and designers send me lengthy portfolios of their work. I cannot include the work of everyone in my books. And for this reality, I’ve been on the receiving end of many peoples wrath. Nonetheless, I have my favorite artists. But they are my favorites because their work is incredible and because they are ethical people. That doesn’t mean that we still don’t have our battles. But we are able to resolve our difficulties and continue to work together to the mutual benefit of both of us.

I do not accept gifts or bribes from people who want to be in my books. One gentleman offered me $5,000 in cash if I would feature him in a book. I said “no” because his work was not within the realm of the artistic. Today the guy hates me. To him I say that it takes about $100,000 to print a large book on the part of the publisher and about $50,000 out of my own pocket and a years worth of my time. And there is no guarantee that the book will sell once it’s on the market. If he wants to be in a book then he should do his own. Or, better yet, an even cheaper and far more profitable way is to increase the quality of their merchandise so that I and others can buy the piece and be satisfied that the item won’t fall apart in two years.

It also knocks me out that some people choose to burn their bridges with me. In my gallery I sell the rustic furniture of about ten or so people. In the past, in the backs of my books, in the resource section, I give the names and addresses of many of the builders of my furniture. This has come back to haunt me on many occasions. Usually, I spend lots of time and money helping a developing builder refine their skills. Once their name and photos of their work appears in one of my books they start getting all kinds of calls and they forget about me because they suddenly have all kinds of retail business at retail prices. But that’s life and that’s business in the big city. I accept it and move on to help develop other aspiring builders. The hard thing is to feature someone’s work and not to include their #’s in my books. Most of the builders understand that I just can’t give away my sources. One guy, however, was so irate that I feared for my safety when I didn’t put his address in the resource section. He conveniently forgot that I had loaned him a significant amount of money to buy his tools, pay for his divorce, alimony, food for his kids, and other things. After that incident I vowed not to give the names and addresses of anyone I do business with again. I just can’t throw away my sources.

Other people are incredibly appreciative. Doug Tedrow of Wood River Rustics in Ketchum, Idaho once told me told me that if I put a photo of his work on the cover of one of my books he would send me a dollar every month for the rest of his life. I tried to tell him that the publisher determines the cover (but I control most of the interior!). Nonetheless, in 2002, my book Cabins and Camps came out with Doug’s fireplace on the cover. He was elated! And every month I receive a dollar in the mail from him. Last year he was three months late. Finally a letter from him arrived with three dollars in cash in the envelope. Along with the cash he included a penny cut in half to account for the accrued interest! I once offered Doug a payout settlement of eight dollars in cash but he refused. Apart from all that he and I and our families remain great friends and we see each other often at the Western Design Conference in Cody, Wyoming and at his home in Ketchum.

Other individuals like Barney and Chris Wager, and Randy Holden, Brian Kelly, Lori Toledo, Lester Santos and many others have picked up the phone and thanked me for my efforts. And I do appreciate their thoughts and gratitude. On the other hand one guy who builds furniture was featured in one of my books never even thanked me. The last time I saw him his only comment to me was “what else are you going to do to make me more famous and more money?”

My newsletter is another story. I am shocked at how popular it is. Every day between 200 and 600 people read my newsletter. And that’s every day! For the life of me I don’t know why but in truth I am flattered. When a new newsletter comes out I receive many emails from readers commenting on my comments. I would say that 95% percent of these emails are both supportive and complimentary. Most of the readers find a significant amount of humor in the newsletter as well. And of course I get the “wackos” with their misguided and misdirected understanding of humanity. And they are out there. One ultra-conservative gentleman sends me his weekly letter full of hatred for everything. A few others send me lengthy discourses on religion and God and remind me that I will go the hell if I don’t stop eating too many donuts. Other disgruntled individuals have questioned my patriotic loyalty.

But this is what America is all about. If you don’t like the heat then get out of the hot tub! The voices of Americans is democracy at work. And if we were not tolerant of voices other then our own then America would turn into another Iraq or North Korea or Cuba. Vigilance and tolerance is the creed of the founding fathers of America. The suppression of personal opinions is the antithesis of American virtues. In truth, I am relatively tolerant of people who disagree with me but sometimes they go too far and I no longer respond.

But I want to be perfectly clear about something. The rustic arts are not about me. It never has and never will be. Frankly, I am only a merchant and a writer/photographer. I wish I had the talent, time and the ability to focus on furniture building…… but I don’t. Further, and please read this very carefully, I doubt if there is anyone out there who can name any of the writer/photographers who have done books about Picasso or Frank Lloyd Wright or Louis Tiffany. The names of Picasso, et. al., and other artists will long be remembered. Photographers and writers are quickly forgotten and rendered to the realm of obscurity and library note cards. In truth, I do nothing more then push the shutter button on my camera. Monuments are created to people who do things. They were never created for people who just document the works of others and push buttons. And all that’s OK. I’m comfortable with that position in life. I have a great life and get to rub shoulders with the shakers and movers of the world. I see myself as a blue-collar guy who just happened to stumble onto something quite extraordinary. I did not plan my career. It just happened. I’ve always seen the rustic arts as an incredibly underappreciated and undervalued art form. And it’s been my job to document the on-going evolution of the movement. And frankly, I really do love the stuff. It grows on you.

But that’s life in the big city. There is no job or position that is not without its headaches. Every person in the world has their peaks and valleys. My nightmares are no different from the nightmares of everyone else in the world. It’s just that I have this “Greetings From Ralph” newsletter that has to go out and its good therapy for me to sit and write about this kind of stuff. It keeps me off the streets and out of the bars. It keeps me from watching too many Rambo and Rocky reruns on the TV. It keeps me from eating too many crème filled donuts. Besides, I can’t really afford a therapist. So I would like to personally thank everyone out there who reads this. You’re helping to calm my nerves and relieve my misery. And, again, if anyone out there really wants to own a rustic furniture business just let me know. I’ll fax you a contract moments after I hear from you!

But since I’ve written all this I am now feeling better about myself. Talking and writing is good. It takes ones mind off things. So for now I think I’ll wander off to the kitchen and have a few hot dogs with extra onions for dinner. Come to think of it I’ll have some Twinkies for desert. And I’ll have a diet Pepsi as well…..wouldn’t want to have too many calories right now…. would I? Take care, Ralph

A week or so ago, in the evening, my wife and I closed our shop in Keene Valley after a successful day of selling rustic furniture. It was hot so we went for a quick swim in the Ausable River just minutes from the gallery. As my blues band was playing that night I had dressed in all black and had on sun glasses. Because I was still wet from our swim I had slicked my hair straight back. My wife was still wet and had rolled her hair in a towel and had wrapped a large sheet completely around herself to “dry off”. The sheet also covered her head. On her face was some moisturizing crème. She also wore sunglasses to cut down on the glare of the evening sun. Because I was going to a gig I had several guitar cases, amps and other electronic gear in my truck. I also had a few long cylinders that contained fly rods in the cab of my vehicle. On that particular day National Public Radio was playing a variety of international music including some great Arabic music which includes tons of 16th and 32nd notes. I can assure everyone that this music is a challenge for even the most accomplished musicians!

So here we are driving down Rt. 87 and lo and behold we stop for a police inspection just south of Exit 30. Its part of the Homeland Security roadblocks. They check everyone’s car and ask for citizenship of everyone in the vehicle. They’re looking for terrorists or other unscrupulous individuals. I’ve gone through the checkpoint dozens of times and it’s really no big deal. On this day, however, the sun did not shine.

“Citizenship, please?”, asked the agent. As I was about to speak I nearly swallowed a cough drop that I had in my mouth. I started coughing and made some unrecognizable noises that sounded nothing like the English Language. “Pull, over to the curb immediately, please sir”. I complied. We were immediately surrounded by very serious looking agents armed with big guns and mean dogs. And so for the next half hour they wanted to know about the Arabic music, the electronic gear, the guitar cases, the strange outfits we were wearing. The dogs sniffed my vehicle. They even brought out a giger counter to see if we had any radio active materials with us. They searched through everything. They called in our names to see if there were any warrants for our arrests. They asked about the function of my tool box. They wanted to know about the electronic gear I had. They wanted to know about the $2,500 in cash I had in my receipt bag. “All this looks suspicious, Sir” they said.

Finally they realized that we were just a strange looking American couple caught up in unusual circumstances. So the next time you go through a check point don’t play Arabic music, wear all black, have electronic gear on you, carry a large amount of cash, carry guitar cases that may conceal weapons or speak with anything other than an American accent. Come to think of it maybe it’s best just to stay at home. At least that way you’ll know your blood pressure won’t go through the roof or some fanatic won’t chop your head off. Enough is enough, please. Myself? I’m staying home today to play “jacks” with my five year old daughter. It’s much safer.

Apart from all that the gig went well that night. We played at a sleazy bar in Albany. One person was in the audience. I made fifty dollars for six hours of work.

Life goes on.

This weekend we played on the “Blues Train”. That’s right. The train pulls out of the station at 7PM. It travels, slowly, south for two hours, turns around and then returns to the station. About a hundred people showed up. We played on a box car. Other cars on the train were serving every drink ever concocted by the human race. It was a great ride and a great time. And for four hours of work we each made $50 bucks. There has to be a better way to make a living!

The weekend of July 16 is the ADIRONDACK LIVING SHOW. We will be exhibiting numerous pieces of high-end furniture at the show which will be held at the horse grounds in Lake Placid, NY. If you are in the least bit interested in “Cabin or Rustic Style” this is the place to be. More then a hundred and sixty exhibitors will offer a huge variety if products and services including rustic furniture, antler chandeliers, log home builders, art, boats, fireplaces, home theatres, carpets, architects, kitchens, Adirondack antiques, guide services, real estate, docks and more stuff then you can shake a stick at! Lake placid is the heart of the Adirondacks and an extraordinary setting in itself. If you’re thinking of building or redesigning or refurnishing your home in the rustic style there is no finer place to be on that weekend. So come one up, you’ll have a great time!

On another note business has picked up dramatically over the past few weeks. It’s nice to have significant walk-in traffic in both our stores. I must admit that it gets a bit lonely in the dead of winter around here and it’s always nice to have the stores packed with eager customers that show up in the warm months.

What seems to be the trend at this point is that many home owners want an “Adirondack room”. We have been commissioned to redesign and furnish several such rooms in large homes just outside of New York City. One such room is easily half the size of a gymnasium. It’s a kid’s room. We are presently in the process of building three beds that have twelve foot headboards. Each head board will include huge peeled cedar trees will massive root bases. The only problem will be getting the trees into the room. Nonetheless, we’ll figure that out when the time comes.

I am presently hard at work on my next book ADIRONDACK DESIGN. I’ll have the book completed (I hope) by January of 2005 and on the market in the fall of next year. I’m always astonished on how long it takes to complete these large books. But the end product is always worth the effort.

For further information on my band, Blues Noir, check out our web page on the internet. That’s about it for now. I’m off to take a nap. Tonight we are having dinner at a wonderful turn-of-the-century historical Great Camp on Lake Placid. And I need to rest up for the event! My best to all of you, Ralph

Greetings, Life is more complicated today then I wish it were. Things go wrong. I can’t get things done fast enough. A huge table top in Philadelphia cracks and it needs to be replaced. A few orders have been put on hold because we can’t get enough highly figured tiger maple for the tops. People will have to wait an extra week for their furniture. We made a series of bunk beds for a massive home on an island off the coast of Maine and they would not fit through the doors leading up to the third floor. We had to return to the island (at great expense) and remove the beds. It was not my fault that the doors were too small but this kind of stuff drives me nuts. I hate disappointing people.

Deliveries need to be made. Books need to get done and customers want things. The pipes in my gallery in Keene Valley burst throughout the winter and it is far more costly and time consuming to repair then originally thought. Rather then do a half-assed job we decided to “gut” the entire first floor and do it right. That meant new sheet rock, trim, plumbing, electrical…the entire “nine yards”. We can’t get to the floors or the ceiling now but will do that in the fall when the season ends. The store needs to be open. But all this is time consuming.

Some days, like today, I just want to go fishing. Sunday, June 27, is my birthday. Maybe I’ll just disconnect my phone, move to Alaska and go fishing for the rest of my life. Birthdays are now just another day on the calendar. Tonight my band is playing at a small club in Westport, NY. We’ll start playing at ten PM and stop probably at one or two in the morning. An hour later I’ll have my truck packed and finally I’ll get home at five in the morning. And for all this I’ll make Fifty bucks. But considering that a tank of gas costs fifty bucks just to get to the gig I really wonder if it’s worth it. If “groupies” were rushing the stage and fans were “going crazy” it just might be a different story. But we’re too old for that and it’s just not going to happen in my lifetime. So be it.

Directly across the street from me is the Hidden Lake Girls Scout Camp. As I write this a van pulls up, a ramp descends and five kids in wheel chairs are wheeled into the camp grounds. I also notice two vans passing in front of my gallery moments ago. Down the road from me is Paul Newman’s Double H Camp for terminally ill kids. The vans were full of kids going to the camp. No doubt each of the kids has a disease too terrible for me to imagine.

All this is an affront to the blahs I have today. Things in my life could be worse. A lot worse. I feel incredibly selfish to have felt sorry for myself. Frankly, I feel stupid for feeling bad. The kids mentioned above and their families are experiencing far greater heart ache then I ever have. I have no right to despair. I have a great wife, a healthy child and a great business. One by one I’ll take care of the problems before me. That’s how it has to be. I’ll get the stuff done. So be it.

Barney Bellinger will be here in an hour. Last week he left off a dozen of his prints for me to sell. I sold them, sight unseen, within two days. They really are spectacular. You can see them under paintings on my site. Each comes with a signed (by Barney) and numbered certificate. Each print comes framed. One is of a rising trout. The other, a guide boat scene, comes in two sizes. Large and small. This is a limited edition run of prints. Only one hundred of each has been made. If you have long wanted a piece of art work by Barney these prints are ideal. I have a pair in my own collection and they really do look great on my wall!

Before my wife married me she was a “big ticket” floral designer in Chicago. She actually had thirty five employees creating arrangements from her designs. They sent things all over the world. After significant encouragement she has agreed to offer a line of arrangements of dried flowers. Within the month you’ll see a new section under ADIRONDACK FLORAL DESIGNS listed on my site. You should check this out. Every thing she has ever offered in my gallery sells instantly.

And so now the bark is peeling all across the northern sections of America. At this time I have a few groups of talented individuals collecting birch bark. In general we contact logging companies and peel birch bark trees of their bark before they are cut down by loggers. Great care must be given to the bark. It needs to be pressed flat almost immediately or else it will curl into unusable rolls. We often kiln dry the bark as well. This needs to be done to kill any bugs infesting the bark and to reduce its moisture content. After that we generally press it flat and use it through out the year for different projects. Bark comes in three grades. A, B, or C. Grade A bark is furniture grade. It’s usually very flat with no holes or unusable knots or rips. It has to be perfect. Grade B stuff is used often to wall-paper rooms or sections can be cut from it and used in small areas like picture frames. Grade C bark is usually used in architecture. We have used it to wall-paper the exteriors of homes or other elements. Collecting bark is usually not that much fun. Ladders are often lugged miles into the woods to get to the best bark that often grows high in the trees. Occasionally someone will stumble onto a bee hive and get attacked by a swarm of angry bees. But the job needs to get done so we do what ever is necessary to acquire the necessary materials. Occasionally we’ll skin a dead standing tree but the bark on such old trees is often moldy or in varying states of decay. Nonetheless, bark collecting is a labor intensive job that’s about as much fun as root canal work.

On another point, I receive up to five phone calls a day with questions about HICKORY FURNITURE. I always encourage people to buy a copy of my book A HISTORY OF THE OLD HICKORY CHAIR COMPANY AND THE INDIANA HICKORY FURNITURE MOVEMENT. It’s $25 delivered to your door. It has all the answers to questions usually asked by people looking for information on hickory furniture. It also shows several hundred pieces of antique hickory furniture. Many people call the book the “Bible” when it comes to hickory furniture. However, in short, here’s a few bits of information that are answers to commonly asked questions.

1. Check for the “brand” on the legs of either table or chairs. If the brand reads “Old Hickory Chair Company, Martinsville, Ind.” It was made before 1922. If it reads Old Hickory Furniture Company it was made after 1922.

2. Try to find a “Bruce Tag” on a chair leg or table bottom. It’s a round, small, dime size piece of copper that reads “Genuine Old Hickory, Bruce Preserved”. A number stamped inside the circle is the year the piece was made.

3. There were ten different companies building hickory furniture in Indiana between 1890s and 1970s.

4. If it’s not signed Old Hickory its not Old Hickory. This is true 99.9999% of the time.

5. If you find powder post beetles invading your chairs spray them (in the holes where the saw dust is coming from) with WD-40.

6. Chairs were woven with material from either the Rattan plant or strips of hickory. The hickory strip chairs were, in general, before 1920. If the chairs are woven with nylon or canvas material they were generally made between 1935 and 1950.

7. Do not leave hickory chairs out in the rain. Water and elements will destroy the chairs in about ten years.

8. If your pieces are very gray or weathered put them outside on a sunny day. Soak them with water. Then treat them with a deck cleaning agent available from any hardware store. Thompson’s deck cleaner works well. Make certain you thoroughly rinse all the cleaner off once the job is complete. Let the chair dry completely. Finish the chairs with a coat of Satin polyurethane.

9. There are about ten different companies today making hickory furniture. The Old Hickory company today is in Shelbyville, Indiana.

10. When you buy hickory furniture from Ebay make certain you get a guarantee of your money back. Many of the pieces sold online are of questionable value.

And so I am hard at work on more books and other stuff. I’ve fished a few rivers and ponds during the past week and the trout are hitting the flies. Its still a bit too early for the bass in Lake George to turn on. And so now, one by one, I’ll work on the problems that need immediate attention. Taking care of business and being responsible is the only way to self respect. Nonetheless, today I would just as soon sit under a bridge, throw stones in the water and eat two dozen crème filled donuts. But that will not happen today. It’s off to the salt mines for me. More later, Ralph

Greetings to you all, Normally I try to find some humor somewhere but I want to relate something that recently happened that was a real “eye opener”. A ten year friend of mine was traveling in a car in Pennsylvania with his wife and daughter. He sneezed, lost control of his car and slammed into a stone fence. His wife and daughter walked away from the accident. Unfortunately Dennis broke his back and severed his spinal column. He is now a quadriplegic. He’s only fifty years old. Two days ago he mentioned to another friend that “on weekdays sixty one airplanes, all going in the same direction, fly over my house. That’s what my life is like”.

Our president, George W. Bush, has severely limited the access to stem cells for scientific research. According to those that know, Stem cell research holds great promise for tissue and nerve cell regeneration. God told George that utilizing stem cells to possibly help others “is not right”. I just wish that George and his god would go to Dennis’s house, look him right in the face and condemn him to being a quadriplegic for the rest of his life. Apparently millions of people around the planet could greatly benefit from this sort of scientific research but George just doesn’t want it to happen. It’s time for a serious change here in America.

In the sixties two groups of college students were enrolled in an experiment. The groups did not know each other. One group was to be jailers. The other was to be prisoners locked up in cells. Real jail cells were used. The “jailers” did not know that the “prisoners” were just other “normal” students like themselves. Initially, the jailers treated the prisoners as human beings. But that quickly changed. The “jailers” quickly resorted to brutality, intimidation and uncommon sadism in their treatment of the other students. The behavior of the jailers became so brutal that the experiment had to be stopped. Every psychology 101 student studies these experiments.

The treatment of the Iraqi prisoners disgusts most Americans and, more then likely, all in the Arab world. The top brass in the pentagon and in the White House should have been very well aware of the potential for young guards, most with little or no training, to fall into the trap of brutality and hospitality toward the prisoners. The inhumane treatment of prisoners does nothing toward resolving the tremendously complex issues in the Middle East. The treatment by American jailers toward those jailed only serves to foster relentless hostility and exacerbate an already nightmarish situation. Keep in mind that the war in Iraq is not about terrorism. Iraq was contained and was apparently without weapons of mass destruction. We are digging ourselves further and further into a hellish hole from which there will be no easy escape. If we think for one second that the war in Iraq is “winnable” in the traditional sense we are badly mistaken.

On another, completely different note, I really enjoyed the presidency of Bill Clinton. I learned a great deal from him. Whether you liked his politics or not I found him to be incredibly inspirational. The man took an incredible amount of persecution and harassment from the ultra-conservative right wing politicians in America. True, he lied and paid dearly for it. But if I had been him about half way through his “ordeal” I would have told every body to go to hell. Who needs the harassment? I don’t like it. He could have easily gone into private industry, made ten million Dollars a year and lived happily ever after. But he didn’t. He stuck it out and America was better because of it. And hence I learned something. Regardless of all the headaches, the criticisms, the expenses, etc., if you believe in something……you stick it out. You do the job and you get it done.

And Yes, I am a LIBERAL! I believe in clean air. People should have a good education. I don’t want oil wells in Alaska. I’m sick of hearing about ten year old kids shot dead with hand guns. I don’t want arsenic in the water. I love trees. I actually do go out in my back yard just about every morning and shake hands with tree branches. I talk to them and wish them well. I like birds and clean beaches. Forests that have been cut should be replanted and restored. For crying out loud why can’t we have cars that get fifty miles to the gallon of gas? Global warming is much more serious than the present administration would lead us to believe. I don’t think I’m being unreasonable. Peace and clean air is not an awful lot to ask. And yes I am a liberal and proud of it.

So much for that. The views expressed above are not the opinions of my wife or five year old daughter. I am certain if I consulted them before I wrote the above I would have been severely berated. “What in the world has this stuff got to do with rustic furniture?”, my wife would ask. “Don’t bother these people with this kind of stuff…its not what they want to hear!”, she would say. “Are you nuts?” she would ask. “What has this got to do with Sponge Bob?” my daughter would ask. So I’m not asking them. I’ll leave well enough alone. I don’t need more grief in my life. I’ll keep my opinions to myself. At least most of the readers of my “greetings” won’t yell at me. (Nonetheless, I do get several emails from irate subscribers whenever I post a new greeting!).

And so now its spring here in the Adirondacks. Its rained “cats and dogs” for the past few days here in Lake George. Last night I took my daughter in the back yard and played in the mud puddles. We got soaked to the bone and we acted like two little kids in a rain storm. It was great. Parents need to do that with their kids once in a while. It beats sitting in front of the television. Your kids will love you for it. They really do need to see that their parents are human beings capable of doing something other then working.

On another note it always amazes me how much time we seem to spend trying to please others. I’m not talking about a work situation where the boss needs something immediately. I’m talking about our constant and almost incessant need for recognition from others. We all have our heroes and nothing beats compliments from those we admire. But sometimes we can carry it too far. In truth we often measure our own ability by comparing our selves to others. Sometimes it’s more important to compare our efforts to what we had done earlier in our lives. For instance maybe we only come in third in a race but if we beat the time we had run a month earlier then we need to acknowledge our own improvement. In truth, intrinsic motivation is a very powerful force. I have been trying to play a certain progression on my bass guitar for years and last night was the first time I hit the notes I wanted. Nobody heard it and I’ll probably never play the song in public but I took note of my progress and am proud of it.

Further, life is not a popularity contest. It’s not necessary to have every one in the world like you. What’s important is that we do the best we can at anything we try. It’s how you feel about yourself that’s important. So often someone can hurt our feelings with just a few words. We always need to be on guard to not allow someone to ruin our day. Doing what we are supposed to do is one of the many keys to success in the world. Just get the job done correctly.

All this, of course, is nothing new. People have written about this stuff for years. But we just need to remind ourselves of our abilities and our ability to both survive and grow in a complex world.

This weekend we will open the Keene Valley store permanently for the summer. It’s been open only on weekends for the past few weeks. We’ve had good response so far. Last weekend at Keene Valley we sold more furniture then any weekend in my twenty eight years of being in the rustic furniture business. But right now the truth is that I really would rather simplify my life at this time. In truth, I can’t keep up with my Lake George Gallery. We get calls from all over the world (I’m not kidding) and my biggest nightmare is keeping up with the demand.

In truth, it’s not the mid level stuff that people are looking for. The people who call want the greatest stuff ever created. Some people are shocked at the prices and many are surprised (once I tell them about the process) at how much effort goes into one piece of furniture. But the truth is that I still believe that the really high end pieces of rustic furniture are still under valued and will continue to appreciate in value as time goes by. Also certain artists are incredibly “collectible”. Barney Bellinger is at the top of the list here in the East. Randy Holden in Maine also has a very strong following. Chris Wager and Peter Winter are also very high on the “desirable list” and their pieces are in demand as ever. Brian Kelly, Eric Gulbrandsen, Lori Toledo and Johnny Bennett are also recognized as “players” in the rustic arts! As always Veronica Nemethy (and Barney as well) are destined for museums and Paul Lakota and Rhea are doing high quality paintings.

Speaking of Barney, we are now offering a very limited run of canvas prints of his paintings. Barney made copies of three of his paintings on canvas. Each has been hand varnished and framed. Each comes with a signed certificate and is numbered. He is selling the art works through my gallery and a few others. Bellingers paintings are highly sought after and many people have waited years to own one. His paintings begin at $9,000 and go up from there. Because so many people requested his work he decided to do a limited run of prints of his paintings. In a few days I’ll have the images posted on my site. The framed prints range between $195 and $395. I can personally assure everyone that they are gorgeous!

On another note, I knew this would eventually happen. America is now being swamped with rustic furniture manufactured in China! Strangely enough I see advertisements for Adirondack furniture in the local magazines. And its made in China! Actually some of the pieces are not bad. I actually examined several of them close up and personal. The wood is different and the bark is pieced together. Weather they will hold up throughout the years remains to be seen. Several of the cabinets are complete with Barney Bellinger “knock-off” paintings and several of the other pieces presently offered strangely resemble pieces if have offered on my website and featured in my books. So be it. You can’t stop competition. That’s America and if you don’t like the fact that people are competing with you then you should move to Cuba or Iraq. Nonetheless, I do not sell foreign made products (except oriental carpets!) in either of my galleries. My stuff is hand made here in America! I just sincerely hope that those who are selling the items accurately represent them as made in China.

And so I am now hard at work on my book Adirondack Design. Due out in September of 2005 it will be a large format $60 book filled with all kinds of goodies from the Adirondacks. I also have agreed in principal to do another large format book tentatively titled Western Rustic. That book will feature several extraordinary western rustic homes. Hopefully, it will be on the market in September of 2006. I will also have on the market a small, hard-covered book titled the Romance of the Fireplace. This will be a great little book showing a few hundred absolutely great rustic fireplaces from around the country. It will be a Christmas book and we’ll have it out for Christmas 2005. We’ll see if I can pull it together. I have also agreed to complete FLY FISHING THE GREAT EASTERN RIVERS. The fishing books take an enormous amount of time and this book will not be out for at least three years. After that I’m done. That’s it…no more. Eighteen or nineteen books is enough. I just want to go fishing, play my bass guitar, raise my daughter and retire. I’m having my phone disconnected in the fall of 2008 (if I win the lottery) and that’s it! (Unless, of course, something really interesting comes up!)

We’ll those of us who are serious fly fishermen know that the Northern Rocky Mountains will shortly see the hatch of the “stoneflies’. This is a major event in the Rockies and people actually plan their lives around it. The hatch only lasts a few days. I fished it last year and spoke about it at lengths in my book Fly Fishing the Great Western Rivers. Stone flies are huge monstrous creatures that are gobbled up by huge trout. The salmon are also preparing to return to Alaska rivers to have great sex and make little baby salmon! This is another great event! The fun starts in early June with the return of the huge King Salmon on the Kenai River in Alaska.

In truth, folks, my heart is in both Alaska and Montana but my body is in Lake George, NY!...(which, in truth, is not a bad place to be right now!) Nonetheless, I will be fishing the great Kenai River in Alaska again this fall and I can’t wait. We’ll be there for huge rainbows the first week of October. We still have a few spots left so if you want a great, affordable trip drop me a line. You’ll have the time of your life!

So now its time to practice my music lessons. I recently joined a band called Blues Noir. (www.bluesnoir.com). This is a really great band and I am thrilled to be their new bass player. We’ve had several rehearsals and this coming weekend we’ll be playing in the Albany area. I’ve had to learn about 30 or so new songs and my fingers are sore from all the practice. Check out our website for band info and dates.

So I say to all of you…please drive safe, don’t smoke and be good to others. My best to you, Ralph

PS. Power to the people and Smash the Fascist dogs! (What does this statement actually mean? I used to say it a lot back in the 60s.)

P.S.S. Apparently someone signed me up for MAIL ORDER BRIDES FROM RUSSIA! I have not checked my email for the past few days and to my horror I’ve had more then a thousand women email me from Russia! After reading many of the letters I am incredibly thankful that I live in America. If someone is looking for a new bride that speaks a little English, cooks a great borscht and knows how to milk cows let me know. I’ll happily forward a few hundred emails to you!

Greetings to you! And Good Morning!

The world needs to change a bit. And we need to look at three influential, powerful individuals who are perfectly capable of doing it! Fully aware that everyone can make a mistake and that we have to prove that someone is guilty before they go to prison…..Rush Limbaugh, Martha Stuart and Michael Jackson are certainly having their legal woes these days. Fully aware that two of them have not yet received trials there is, nonetheless, a slim possibility that if they are found guilty (Stuart, financial abuse; Limbaugh, drug abuse; and Jackson, child abuse) they could spend time in jail. And the reason we send people to jail is to punish them. Oh , the horror of it all!

So, here’s my plan. If found guilty the three of them should spend five years each in jail. All of them, mind you, in the same jail cell, together, at the same time! Just think of it. What a nightmare it would be for Rush to have to listen to Martha and Michael. Could he stand it? I don’t think so. Martha would want to rearrange the cell, teach the others how to cook pastries, create doilies and paint the walls something other than grey….like maybe a nice mauve or taupe or something to brighten the spirits. Michael would want to speak of trendy fashions, sing “I’M BAD” all day and offer to show Rush the correct way to apply make-up. And Rush could just sit for the five straight years and complain about everything. But in a surprising turn-around in his declared Republican/Conservative, sociological, quasi political position he would declare himself a “Victim” of the system. Even though he is the champion of the “take responsibility for your own life” philosophy…he just may fall into mumbling to himself all hours of the day……“it’s not my fault, Bill Clinton and the Liberals did this to me”.

Oh the horror of it all. Rush would regain fifty pounds from eating too many of Martha’s cookies but he would become a much broader individual because he would also have experience arranging flowers, gardening and decorating at Christmas. Michael’s voice would become significantly lower (because he would have no access to synthetic hormones) and his skin would stop fading (because he would have no exposure to the sun for years). Poor Martha might get dry skin from actually having to wash dishes all day and she just might have to smile a bit because humor in jail is just about the only thing that will get you through the experience.

But In the end I am certain all of them would have tattoos all over their bodies. Martha would do her hair in “corn rolls.” Rush would wear either a red or blue bandana depending on which gangs he aligned himself to in prison. Michael could teach Martha and Rush “Ebonics” and the correct ghetto hand shakes and Michael might also gain fifty pounds from lifting weights. But the great thing from all this is that the three of them just might create a sensational, new Dance Routine (created and taught by Michael, of course). I could see it now. Rush, Martha and Michael, all dressed in black leather, break dancing to the song of “thriller”. Oh how the world would change!

It would be fun to go on and on about all this but I just may loose subscribers to my newsletter. So I’ll stop, for the time being, with the social commentary.

On the other hand, just to see the direction of entertainment today I’ve spent the past week watching the sit-coms on TV. And God Help us. If it weren’t for canned laughter we’d have no laughter at all. For the life of me I just don’t see what’s so funny. I don’t get the humor. Actually there is no humor. Whoever writes this TV stuff really should find another job. God help us if future generations judge us on our entertainment. But equally embarrassing is the fact that we actually watch this stuff. Is it only me who thinks this stuff is really horrible?

But there’s something on my mind that’s been troubling me for quite a while and I haven’t been able to put my put my finger on it. But, hopefully, I can put this down on paper so that it makes sense. There is a strange work ethic that seems to be pervasive in much of our culture. I made a delivery yesterday (even though I didn’t want to) and the client complimented me all over the place. She told me that I was the first person in the past month that did what they said they were going to do. And that really bothered me. This is not about ethics. It’s not about religion or doing the right thing or personal responsibility. The artists I deal with are often late with stuff. When they do show up they want me to compliment them for their efforts. Herein is the problem. Being on time is not heroic. It’s what you are supposed to do. If I say I’m going to do something then I’ll get it done. That’s what we get paid for. And it drives me nuts when people expect all kinds of accolades for doing something that they had agreed to do in the first place. If I’m off base here please tell me. Or maybe I’m not making myself clear. Maybe it’s just me.

OK, I’ll lighten up a bit.

I get to travel a lot. And North America is far more beautiful and rich in culture then we occasionally care to believe. I haven’t traveled outside our borders for the past decade and I am certain I am missing something. But I did spend some time in the south of France years ago and was surprised at the anti American sentiments. Nonetheless, realistically, It’s incredibly dangerous out there at this particular time in history. Who needs the headaches? I love America so for the time being I’ll stay here.

I am often asked about great rustic places to go in our country so here are a few suggestions. Actually I’ll try to include this every year as a new addition to the newsletter so here goes:

RALPH’S FAVORITE RUSTIC AMERICAN RESTAURANTS

1. Mankas Inverness Lodge. Located in Inverness, California, about an hour above San Francisco, Mankas is extraordinary. In classic old California style the lodge and dining hall are complete with rustic accessories of all types and hickory furniture. Margaret, the owner, will charm you great stories and the food is out of this world. I’m not kidding.

2. Pioneer Saloon, Main Street, Ketchum, Idaho. This is one great restaurant. The historic rustic artifacts on the walls are first class and the food fit for kings. Owner/host Duffy treats all his customers like family. Try the prime rib. It melts in ones mouth. In the Northern Rockies this is the place to be!

3. Gwins Roadside Lodge, Cooper Landing, Alaska. An old world, historic, Alaskan log cabin lodge, the food in the restaurant is tasty and authentic. The seafood Chowder and halibut sandwich is enough to keep a hearty, rugged soul happy for the day. Be certain, however to drive slowly on the road leading up the lodge as moose and bears are everywhere.

4. Lee’s Ferry Lodge, Marble Canyon, Az. In the middle of absolutely nowhere (I’m not kidding) the menu reads like the place should be in Aspen or some other trendy town. The food is five star and they offer more then a hundred different types of beer as well. Just look out for the coyotes and rattlesnakes when entering the building.

5. Legs Inn, Cross Village, Michigan. A bizarre place, its one of the great rustic settings in the world. The rustic furniture was originally made in the 1930s and is world class. The food is great but the ambiance will knock your socks off! Its well worth the trip!

6. The Lake Placid Lodge, Lake Placid New York. A very high-end facility the lodge will knock you out with their ambiance, hospitality and food. Don’t miss this place and if you get the chance spend the night. You’ll love the rooms and cabins. And the view of the lake from the porch will take your breath away.

7. Georges Place, Lake George, NY. An old world classic Adirondack log cabin, the restaurant serves really great meals fit for any good woodsman. Get there early and have a drink or two in the bar. You’ll love this place.

8. Proud Cut Saloon, Cody, Wyoming. A really great place with great ambiance. Make sure you wear your cowboy boots and remember to order the Rocky Mountain Oysters for dinner!

9. Chico Hot Springs Lodge, Pray, Montana. You have to go to this place at lease once in your life. Just north of Yellowstone National Park the food is five stars. And stick around long enough to soak in the hot springs pool. Believe me you’ll love it.

10. BO’s, Key West, Florida. Arguably one of the strangest eating places in North America how they got a certificate to serve food from the Board of Health I’ll never know. Chickens and cats run around your feet (I’m not kidding!). But the seafood is out of this world. After dinner make certain that you watch the sunset at Mallory Square.

11. The Corral, Big Sky, Montana. About ten minutes south of Big Sky, on the way to Yellowstone National Park, is the Corral Restaurant. Its an old world rustic log cabin in classic Rocky Mountain style. Taxidermy hangs on all the walls and the pool table has a zillion cigarette burns on the edges. Garth Brooks emanates from the juke box and the beer is cold. This is one great place that I always visit when I'm in the area. Look out for moose and bears on the ride in! And keep your fly rod with you because the Gallatin River is just across the street! Oh, Yes, one more thing, the food great!

So in another month or so we’ll open the Keene Valley store. We had it closed for the winter. We are looking for a gallery manager so if you’re looking for a great summer job let me know. Business in our Lake George Gallery has picked up dramatically now that the warm weather is here. After receiving a stern lecture from my wife I finally went to the dump today and I also cleaned out the garage where stuff had piled up all winter. It had to be done.

And so we begin another season. It will be a very busy summer. I’ve joined a high energy blues/boogie band and we’ll be playing all over the Adirondacks and New England just about every weekend. I must admit that I’m a bit too old for the music scene. Usually we start playing around ten at night and get home, finally at around three or four in the morning. I make no pretensions about making it big in the music scene. Maybe I’m just trying to relive my youth or hang onto what I have left! Whatever the reason I enjoy it. It’s not about the money. It’s about living up to my potential and not wasting whatever time I have left in front of the TV. Once you stop being creative and learning new stuff you die. Sorry to be so brutal about it but I bet that Jimi Hendrix, Janice Joplin, Jim Morrison and Jerry Garcia would have loved to play one more gig before they passed on to the great unknown in the sky. So be good to yourselves please.

My three legged cat Jackie is now rubbing up against me and “meowing” for breakfast. It’s raining today and I have a few customers that will be here from out-of-state! So it’s off to the salt mines. More later, Ralph

Greetings to you all, Its Easter morning. It’s spring. The sun is shining. It is, so far, a good day. I hope it continues to go well. This is a unique time of the year. It is a time for rebirth and renewal. It is a time to take “stock” in our lives and to consider our prospects for the future.

Every six months or so I write down a list of the ten things I would like to accomplish in my life. Regardless of how strange they may seem I write them down. Regardless of how wild the dream I record it. For instance, In my early years I listed Salmon Fishing in Alaska, writing a book, spending time in the south of France, watching, in person, a major operation, studying astrophysics at Harvard, etc. To date I’ve completed all that. On my list since my early twenties was “standing on stage with Jorma Kaukonen (Hot Tuna/Jefferson Airplane) and playing the song GOOD SHEPARD.” Last weekend I accomplished a thirty five year old dream and have the photos to prove it! I am thrilled. It doesn’t matter that I forgot the changes in the middle of the song (I feel incredibly stupid for that) the fact is that I completed it. This may not seem like a big deal to almost everyone else in the world but to me it was a really big deal. So up above is a photo of Jorma Kaukonen, Michael Falzarano, both long time members of Hot Tuna (the world’s greatest band) and me sitting in on a few songs! Dreams, with some effort, really do come true!

When I taught at Tufts University I encouraged all my students to keep a list of their goals in life. If they didn’t have any present goals then they should write down anything they would love to do no matter how bizarre it seemed. Goal writing helps people focus. It helps figure out what kind of a person you are. But equally important is that it helps provide a direction in ones life. Someone poignantly once said that “if you don’t know where you’re going you might end up somewhere else”. Not surprisingly I’ve received many messages from my former student’s advising me that they finally achieved a lifetime goal. And this was sometimes twenty years after I met them in one of my classes!

Who are your heroes? Who do you admire? Who do you have respect for and why? Fully aware that it takes many years (I’m not kidding) to be come a competent musician or dancer I’ve always wondered why so many of our entertainers receive as much praise and adulation as they do. At the same time I’m surprised that many people cannot name ten scientists or physicians or inventors or artists or great political leaders. I am also surprised at how many people know so little about religions other then their own.

When I lived in Boston I became very good friends with Dr. Stephen Zeitels. He is an otolaryngologist (head and neck cancer surgeon) at Massachusetts General in Boston. For a few years I spent every Friday with him in the operating room, on rounds and seeing patients. I also spoke with him everyday. If you ever want to see a miracle worker you should spend a day with a competent surgeon. What they do to keep people alive is nothing less then miraculous. Stephen Zeitels and many people like him are heroes in the classic sense. I sometimes think that we, as humans, have our priorities out of place when we fail to recognize and acknowledge greatness. Greatness exists outside of the realm of movie stardom.

But all this does not mean that we should look only to people of great accomplishment for inspiration. We need only to look beyond ourselves to see uniqueness, accomplishment and heroism. So often we feel that we are the center of the universe. In truth, much to the disappointment of myself and much of the rest of the world, the world does not center around us. It is not about ourselves. The more we revel in the uniqueness of others the more we realize that we are not alone in the world. Nonetheless, a caveat here, our ultimate responsibility is the cultivation and enhancement of ourselves. When we “better” ourselves the world becomes a better place.

I listened briefly today to a sermon on the radio as I took my family out for dinner. The preacher espoused that we should do good things because that will get us into heaven. I disagree. We should do good things because it’s the right thing to do. Not because we will ever receive any reward for our actions….. We do the right things because it is the proper way to act. There is no other way.

On another note our season here in the Adirondacks is finally upon us. Summer residents will be opening their homes and cabins, the lakes will thaw and visitors of all sorts will wander up north for adventure and relaxation. The second week of June the town of Lake George, my town, is the site of Americade. Fifty thousand motorcycles and more then a hundred thousand people show up for the event. It is more like the second coming then a motorcycle rally. It used to be a real nightmare to us locals. But I do my best to just ignore the chaos and go about my business (which I must add is nearly impossible). Every inch of the main street in town is jammed with motorcycles and this goes on for ten days! Needless to say that most motor cycle riders are not in the least bit interested in rustic furniture. But the event is good for the town in that the restaurants, the motels and the stores, in general, are full of people spending their hard earned dollars.

This will also be the last year that jet skis will be allowed on the southern section of Lake George. Thank God. Last year we had three major accidents on the lake. Each involved a drunken driver. Deaths did occur. Enough is enough.

They should also keep snowmobiles out of Yellowstone National Park.

Frankly, as long as I am on the subject I am tired of NOISE. Automobiles are subject to strict standards when it comes to noise. They must have mufflers that work or they receive a ticket. Motorcycles, motor boats, snowmobiles, ATV’s, chair saws, etc., should also be subject to the same noise control. I am tired of hearing motorcycles roar through the night, motor boats blasting up and down the lake, snowmobiles breaking the silence of the woods in winter and other machines filling the air with horrible sound waves. They should also be subject to strict air pollution standards. Last winter I was in the town of West Yellowstone, just outside of Yellowstone National Park. Each morning the town was covered with thick smog from idling snowmobiles. Holy Cow…..enough is enough. I want some clean air and I don’t want to go deaf. This is only common sense to me.

Alright, Alright, for fear of being deluged with hate mail, I won’t say any more about this.

On to more pleasant news.

This summer I will be diligently working my next book due out in the fall of 2005. ADIRONDACK DESIGN will be presenting historical and contemporary homes and artists working within the realm of Adirondack style. It promises to be a great book.

Next week, my fifteenth book, FLY FISHING THE GREAT WESTERN RIVERS, will be on the market. It has been extremely well received by those who have seen it. I am already speaking with my publisher about FLY FISHING THE GREAT EASTERN RIVERS. In truth fishing books take about three years to complete so don’t hold your breath for the Eastern book.

In the past many of my friends and clients have purchased books directly from me. All the books I send out are personally autographed. Fully aware that the same book can be purchased at Amazon cheaper then I can sell them for, I must say thank you to all of you who have patronized my meager efforts to sell books! It’s almost like having the giant discounter Wal-Mart set up right next to me and competing for a small market. So again thank you and I really do appreciate the business!

The Adirondack Living Show will be held on April 23-25 in Saratoga Springs, NY. This is a really great show that will feature exhibitors selling everything “Adirondack” including rustic furniture, boats, architects, photography, hot tubs, guide services, grills, antiques, docks, guide boats, flooring, log home builders, artists, chefs, and more things then you can shake a stick at!. I’ll also be there selling my books and furniture. If you are interested in this type of living, if you are in the area, you really should attend this show. There will be something there for everyone! And while you’re there, just twenty minutes north of the show site is my gallery! Come on up, you’ll love the place. Its 7,000 feet of rustic furniture of the highest quality.

We still have room for a few more fishermen/fisherwomen for our annual fall trip to Alaska. This year it will be the first week of October. We’ll be on the Kenai River about two and a half hours south of Anchorage. We’ll be fly fishing for huge rainbow trout. If you want a great adventure consider coming on up. You won’t be disappointed.

Right now my daughter is up and wants to go on an Easter egg hunt. So I am off to be with my wonderful daughter and to search for colored eggs! And so I wish everyone a really great spring. Be safe please and keep in touch. Ralph

For those of you who have never done a trade show, here goes:

Monday, March 8. I pick up a 17 foot U-haul from the local rental agent in the morning. Furniture is heavy so I asked several of the local builders to give me a hand loading the vehicle. At the last minute they all show up and the truck is packed by five PM. Unfor6unately, I have no room for the large antler chandeliers so I hire an individual to drive them down to New York City with me in the morning. Chris Wager is late and tells me that the two major pieces he has built for the show are not completed. My blood pressure rises.

Tuesday Morning 2AM. The alarm goes off. I shower, have a quick bite to eat and am thrilled to see Roby Secor waiting in my driveway ready to load and deliver the chandeliers to the City. After we depart we stop for gas and coffee. It's now three AM. No one is on the road. We start driving. I sing along with the Three Tenors to keep awake. The truck only goes 55 mph. I nod off a few times but force myself to stay awake.

After hours of driving we arrive at the Lincoln Tunnel and descend into the bowels of Manhattan. We find our turn-off and get in line at the exhibition hall by 6:30 AM. There are numerous eighteen wheeler trucks in front of us. We wait three hours and are finally told to drive into the parking lot.

We are at Pier 94 in New York City. We will be exhibiting at the Architectural Digest Home Design Show. A small booth cost me $12,000. It's a big ticket show. The public pays $20 to get in. It's $455 per hour to hang the chandeliers. Its takes the longshoremen three hours to hang them. I drive into the loading bay. I embraced the horror. With forklifts the union operators are unloading huge trucks. I nearly pack up and go home. They are careless and reckless. They drop things. Things break and no one seems to care.

The union men look refugees. Vulgar, dirty and with reckless abandon in their hearts they do what they are supposed to do and nothing more. Exhibitors are not allowed to use tools of any kind. You must hire two carpenters to hit a nail into your wall. You can't plug in your own electricity or empty your own waste basket. A union person must be hired to do the work.

I decline union help unloading my truck. I find a few union laborers and pay them to help set up my exhibit. Four hours later everything is in my booth. Actually the electricians were very professional and completed hanging the chandeliers with no mishaps. By late afternoon Roby drives off after helping unload the vehicles. Chris Wager calls to say that the pieces he built will not be ready until Wednesday morning. I struggle driving in NYC with the U-haul and curse the fact that I can't find the office to return the truck. I finally, at 6PM, get to my $200 per night room and pass out.

Chris promised to call me when he leaves the Adirondacks to deliver my furniture in NYC. I don't hear from him. Finally, at 8:30 AM, he shows up at the loading docks and delivers the furniture. At 8:55 AM my booth is done. The show opens at 9AM. I spoke with people all day. No one buys anything. Nonetheless, I am told by many people that I had the most creative and finest booth at the show. I appreciate their compliments.

Unfortunately, I am set up right next to a hot tub dealer who blares horrible disco music all day. He thinks it attracts customers to his booth. I ask him to turn it down because I can't hear my customers. He complies. Ten minutes later the music is louder then ever. This goes on for five straight days. I complain to no avail. As I write this I still hear his computer-generated music beating in my head. I hate the guy. I am not a hateful person but I hate that guy.

The show opens at ten and closes at seven each day. Thirty thousand people attend the show. Each one of them, I'm certain, asked me if the antlers in my chandeliers were real.
"They are", I said…..over and over again.
"Why did you kill the animals?" they asked.
"Antlers fall off naturally every year. Nothing died" I said.
"How do you get the bark to stay on the furniture" they asked. I gave a variety of different answers.
On and on it went.
"How many trees did you cut down to build this piece?" they asked. I responded politely.
"I have all kinds of this stuff in my cabin in the Adirondacks. I got it for nothing". "Great", I respond.
"Is that all you do is make reproductions?"
"These are all original designs" I answer.
"Why are your pieces so expensive? I can build this stuff", they said over and over, "it's just some sticks and bark".
I encourage them to try.
"I bought the same thing at a yard sale last week for ten dollars". "Great", I said with no condescension in my voice.

Many people occupy my time with their stories. Some people laugh at my furniture. Most take it seriously. I really did have a great looking booth. Many photographers make photos of my exhibit for their magazines. I spoke with hundreds of people each day. I gave out over a thousand business cards.

I grew weary of the crowds. Each night I crawl back to the hotel where I rest for a minute and then take my wife and daughter out for another $75 pizza or Chinese or Italian dinner. One waiter was insulted because I only gave him a 10% tip. He told me that he survived on the tips and 20% was the norm. I was a "cheap skate" he said. I did not argue with him.

Sunday night finally arrives. I sold nothing all week. Nothing. But I am certain that sometime during the next year (I hope) I'll hear from many of the clients, architects and decorators that expressed real interest in the furniture.

I pass out in bed. Monday morning at 6 AM I rent a 27 foot truck. The longshoremen were worthless when it came to loading furniture. They complained all day, took long coffee breaks and moved slower then congress trying to pass a universal health care bill. I strained my back lifting furniture and could hardly walk. Upon my return to Lake George I had to see my doctor for the pain. I've been lying in bed for the past three days now trying to recover. I am thrilled that several builders showed up upon my return to unload the truck and rearrange my gallery. Nonetheless, I will never do another show again. The show cost me more then $20,000. I sold nothing. Thank heavens for charge cards. Any one who is interested in buying a rustic furniture business please contact me immediately.

Nonetheless, life marches on. While in New York I read two books by Dan Brown. The DA VINCI CODE and ANGLES AND DEMONS were both "barn burners". I read both of them in four days. I could not put them down.

I will begin work on my book ADIRONDACK DESIGN shortly. I love seeing the houses and spending time with the owners. I love making the photos and writing of my experiences. Seeing my efforts in print is its own reward. My book FLY FISHING THE GREAT WESTERN RIVERS will be out within the month. It arrives with great reviews and praise from others.

My presentation at the Grove Park Inn in Asheville, NC went well. More then eleven hundred people packed the hall to hear me speak. We had a great time. I sold more then a hundred books.

Speaking of books. Every one thinks I'm rich because I have so many books on the market. Simply not true. Here's why. I make my own photographs. Traveling to many different states over a period of a year is expensive. Airplane tickets, hotel bills, car rentals, etc. costs a fortune. Just the film for my book THE RUSTIC CABIN cost me three thousand dollars. All that comes out of my pocket. And in truth, I am not John Grisham or Stephen King. Coffee table books, regardless of how good they are, don't sell millions of copies.

Most publishers just request photos from designers, architects and builders and then have an editor write the book. I'm stubborn. I write the books and make my own photos. It is not a cost effective way to do things. (In truth I only got a b minus in my financial management class at the Harvard Business School. I should have studied harder. I would probably have made more money by now). But my books, although not serious money makers, bring us a great deal of PR. And we have great fun doing them. And we get to meet and hang out with many of the serious "shakers and movers" of the world.

I've mentioned before that I get calls everyday from aspiring authors. They are always both disappointed and shocked when I tell them they just won't make $50k net profit after taxes on their books. I encourage them anyway because books contribute to the history of humanity and the PR from publishing is worth its weight in gold.

On another, more somber note. I've been thinking about America lately, the country in which we live. It belongs to us. And we are the guardians of both our country and the way in which we live. Veterans and all those who have served in wars bring new meaning to the term heroic. I recall a recent visit to the "Wall" in Washington D.C. Tears just poured from my eyes. Those were my people. Dead now, I'm certain each of them would have preferred life. Each of them paid the ultimate sacrifice. Each of them, I suspect, would have preferred to have raised a family, created a career and lived to the end of their natural days. But it was not to be.

Veterans of all wars need to be praised, respected and thanked in some way. I do not imagine it is a pleasant thing to have to kill or be killed. I thank god I have never been in that position. As citizens of America we need to be very clear when it comes to sending our young men and women into the face of danger. Some things are worth it and some are not. Nonetheless, I give thanks to those who have passed this way and have not returned. You will not be forgotten. You have my never ending gratitude and respect.

Finally, spring is almost here. And not a moment too soon. I long to throw a fly on a quiet pond. I long to wander into a stream and cast to trout in deep pools. I look forward to "green". The grey and white of winter has left me visually deprived and longing for color. As I write this snow continues to fall in the forest behind my home. Icicles drip slowly past my windows. Time waits for no one. With that in mind I now retire to feed the deer who winter in my back yard. Take care, Ralph

Tuesday, March 2, 2004

Greetings to you all,

Ralph's Random monthly (or whenever the spirit moves me) comments in numerical order, including;

1. The real brutal truth is that there are very few people in the world who really care for you. True, your parents, spouse, kids, a few friends and relatives may love you but the truth is that the world will go on when you are gone. You have to learn to care for yourself. Self respect and meaning in ones life is only acquired by treating others and yourself right. In the end that's all we really have. You had better like what you see in the mirror.

2. It takes three acres of mature trees to make enough oxygen for one person to breath. Think about this once in a while.

3. Each Sunday the New York Times uses fifty thousand trees to print its newspaper.

4. The sole purpose of Mel Gibson's movie The Passion of Christ is to make money. Its not there to educate or pontificate about the teachings of Christ. Its there to appeal humans macabre fascination with violence. Its function is to get your money.

5. Maturation is the result of social interaction. Just because we are getting older does not mean we are getting better. Discuss your thoughts with others.

6. The only reason the cosmos exists at all is because there was a momentary shift in the matter/anti-matter balance.

7. Listening to other peoples problems reminds me that I am not alone in the world. It also reminds me that, I guess, I'm somewhat normal.

8. The most poignant cartoon I ever saw was a huge auditorium with a sign reading "Convention of people who had happy childhoods". Only one person was in attendance.

9. It you were to line up your mother, grand mother, great grand mother and all the rest of your female lineage back to the time when humans first walked the earth you would have ninety six miles of female ancestors. That's a lot of mothers looking down on you from heaven. Don't disappoint them by doing stupid things. Sooner or later you'll hear from all of them at the same time! God help you if you've made a fool of yourself.

10. If you've ever thought of killing yourself you are not alone. Life can be very tough sometimes. Nonetheless, it's best not to do it. Cloudy days have a tendency to become sunny days in just a short period of time. Don't take things so seriously. Eat some ice cream and go to Key West for a week. You deserve it. Those who said bad things to you are really just jerks disguised as your boss, your spouse or you're so called friends. Get them out of your life. With just a bit of effort you can change things for the better.

11. The average person tells more then a hundred lies a day! In truth I really did not like the green peas I had for diner last night even though I told my wife I did.

12. It's not necessary to have everyone in the world like you. Life is not a popularity contest.

13. Mothers are heroes.

14. Complimenting others when they deserve it is a heroic act.

15. Cultivate and educate your self.

16. Don't make a pig out of yourself at meal time. We are not animals….so says Julia Childs.

17. It's popular today to comment that we only use ten per cent of our brains. "We should use more it" the pundits say. In truth, we want to use less of it. CAT scans tell us that our brains are filled with all sorts of electrical energy. Original, creative thoughts are done when much of the brain is shut off. Too much stuff going on inhibits our thought. Concentration is the ability to focus our thoughts. Using less of the brain is far more productive then using more of it.

18. Men. It's really not a big deal to help with the dishes. Do it once in a while. Your help will not be forgotten. It's also the right thing to do.

19. Ninety five percent of the people who seek psychotherapy eventually say that they felt unloved as a child. Spend time with your kids. Tell them and show them that you love them. Nothing is more important.

20. Listen to other people once in a while. You are not the center of the universe.

21. Read the Constitution of the United States. Now if we could only live up to the extraordinary ideals it presents………………….

22. I don't expect politicians, religious leaders, or humans of any kind to be Gods. We are all only human and we have all done dumb things. Nonetheless, I do expect people to both do their jobs and to do what they say they are going to do.

23. Einstein once commented that he would have liked to become a plumber. He was promptly awarded an honorary membership in the United States Plumbers Union.

24. Understanding something is a form of ecstasy.

25. The deepest mystery put before us is the very nature of human beings.

26. By the time an individual becomes sixteen he has watched more then a hundred and eighty thousand acts of violence on TV.

27. Sex has only been around for about a billion years. The only reason it exists at all is to double the strength of the human immune system in its constant and never ending battle against bacteria and viruses. Before this all cells multiplied by themselves.

28. Ever Dream of falling? Evolutionary biologists suggest that this dream harkens back to the early days when we were tree dwellers (lower primates). Falling was potentially the most hazardous thing that could happen to one who resided in trees. The fear seems to have permanently implanted itself in the oldest and most primitive parts of our brain.

29. Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), I am certain, is the result of watching too much TV as a youngster. Think about this for a while please and pay close attention to your TV. The scenes on kids programming change about every three seconds. The impressionable brains of our children then become conditioned to completely change in thought every three seconds. considering that by the time an individual is ten years old he/she has seen over fifteen thousand hours of TV its no wonder that we can't concentrate on anything.

30. Eat more fiber in your diet. I'm tired of hearing about people with colon cancer.

I suppose I should stop now. Enough is enough.

It's been a tough month for computers at the Kylloe Household. I was blasted with three major computer virus's including MYDOOM, BADBEAR AND something else that I care not to remember. At the time they hit, the Norton antivirus program on my laptop had just expired. I opened the computer on the road and could not figure out what the problems were. Eventually I had to delete just about everything in the computer including address book, in mail, word files, just about everything. The virus also prevented me from downloading an updated Norton Antivirus program. It was a mess. But I finally got it figured all out… and I did it all by myself! But the real slap in the face was where it happened. For my daughters fifth birthday we were at the California Hotel at Disneyland just south of Los Angles. To access the internet and to download the anti-virus program I had to use the house phone in our $300 per night room. In truth it took more than two hours to download the program. To my absolute horror the hotel charged me more than $700 for the phone call. Upon complaint they were kind enough to reduce the charges by half but that was still $350 for one phone call. It was not a good day. But I have put the entire incident out of my mind and will not think of it again….until I receive my Visa Card bill! And finally my former internet provider (not Alan at Internet Intentions) failed to renew my domain name of RALPHKYLLOE.COM. So we went for more than a week unable to receive email. The entire website and email system should now be working. If any of you were unable to contact me please do so now. And "no" I have not been hiding out in Guadalajara trying to avoid my responsibilities.

Computers are funny things. There may be more to them then we actually think. It's the subliminal messages that scare me. Normally, when the computer is working I receive nearly four hundred emails a day. Ninety per cent are junk emails. I have all kinds of Spam blockers installed but many still get through. These are the ones that scare me. Is someone out there trying to tell me something? All I seem to get are advertisements for penis enlargement pills and Viagra. Am I missing something here? I am open to suggestions.

On another, more serious note, humans are a curious lot. Our thinking has changed little in millions of generations. The reason being is that our brains, the physical matter that allows us to think, remains relatively unchanged in thousands of years. Thus, our thinking has remained unchanged. True, our life styles, religions, modes of governing ourselves, our art, technology and other aspects of our lives are very different from that of our forefathers but, in truth, our ability to evolve in thought remains a function of the matter between our ears that "churns away minute by minute". Nonetheless, it would be nice to think that we learn and grow from the experiences of life but all too often we repeat our destructive behaviors to both the detriment and potential downfall of our species.

So why go to Mars? Why spend hundreds of billions of dollars on technology that may eventually affect only a miniscule amount of humans? One reason we go there is because we are afraid we may overpopulate the earth, consume all the resources and lapse into oblivion. Or we may get "slammed" by a life destroying meteor. Or get wiped out by a predatory virus. Or fall prey to nuclear winter or any number of possible calamities. Or we go there just to figure out if life actually did (or still does) exist on other planets. Its scientific inquiry and discovery at its finest. Our President feels it necessary to go there to "better mankind" and increase our understanding of "life" as we know it. Certainly all noble thoughts and goals.

But just for a second give this some thought. The greatest strength lies with an educated population. Leave no child behind says the President. I firmly believe that we should take the hundred billion that will go into the exploring Mars and put it into a national educational system. My first job out of college back in the early seventies was as an instructor at the Chicago Parental School for Boys. It was, in essence, a lock-up for kids under sixteen years of age. The inmates there were all inner city kids. Uneducated, ignored and basically abandoned these kids were the "hard-core" of the nasty neighborhoods of urban life. In my class I had at most eight kids. And I had an educated teaching assistant as well. So in essence I had only four kids. We found that with that much attention we could raise the grade level of each student three full grades in just three months! And many of the kids went beyond that! These were not "dumb, ignorant kids". There were just ignored, undisciplined humans who needed adult attention in a caring atmosphere. To ignore these kids, I came to realize (and still do) was nothing less than criminal. Today, both inner city and urban class rooms have as many as thirty kids in a class. And I am making it very clear that it is simply not possible to effectively teach and educate kids with that many in one classroom. Many, many bright individuals are being left behind. And these are kids that will eventually find their way into the prisons and jail cells of America. Strangely, it costs about the same to keep an individual in prison for a year as it does to send someone to Harvard for a year. As a society we have to decide if we want our kids in college or in prison.

So here's what I propose.

1. Break down the educational system so that there are no more then twelve kids in any class in America. Any class that does not "make the grade" should also be assigned a professional teaching assistant.

2. Require all college age juniors to work in an educational system for one year before they can continue their own education and receive their degree.

3. Encourage retired individuals to volunteer their vast experiences by teaching reading and other skills in a school system of their choice.

4. Kids that are not suited for traditional classroom work should be reassigned to a vocation of their choosing. Disruptive students or kids with serious disciplinary problems should not be tolerated.

I could go on and on with suggestions but I think that we all get the message.

One more thing is necessary here. Illegal drugs are the bane of society. Drug abuse has ruined more lives that imaginable. If we are going to have a war on drugs then lets have a serious war. Illegal drugs destroy lives.

On another note. We still look for inspiration in any number of places. Some people search early religious documents, others search the writings of philosophers and other still find strength in writers of all kinds and in the witticisms of fortune cookies. It makes no matter where the ideas come from. It only matters that they are there for ones enlightenment and inspiration. Personally I find strength and wisdom in all sorts of places. Recently I've become totally enraptured in the writings of J. R. R. Tolkein. The Fellowship of the Rings, for me, is certainly one of the greatest cultural events ever conceived by humans. I've seen the three "Ring" movies dozens of times now. I suppose that I'm a "groupie". But here are a couple of quotes from the movie that I find inspirational, including:

"Even the smallest person change the course of the world",

"There's good in this world and it's worth fighting for",

"All that matters is what you do with the time given to you".

Frankly, I love this kind of stuff. Looking for inspiration and the good in things is far better and more productive then looking for the negative all the time. I hate critics, especially the ones that can't find "good" in anything. Winston Churchill once said the "Monuments were never built to a critic".

And so the winter charges on. I recall a week or so ago I was in a hot tub overlooking the Pacific Ocean. But spring is just around the corner. Its forty degrees today in Lake George. Soon the snow and Ice will be gone. Spring is a good thing.

The rustic furniture business continues its upward swing. Even though in the winter we have very few "walk-in's" in our Lake George Gallery we take many orders via the internet and through our contacts with decorators, architects and various projects we have been involved in over the years.

Last weekend I spoke at the Grove Park Inn in Asheville, NC. More than a thousand people attended my presentation. It went well. I also sold more then a hundred of my books and chatted with people of all kinds for three straight days. My presentation was mostly educational (e.g., what to look for when buying rustic furniture, how to care for it, etc.) The people at the conference were definitely advanced collectors of Stickley, Roycroft, Prairie School, pottery and other Arts and Crafts art. Most seem intrigued with rustic furniture.

It's only been within the last decade that collectors have taken notice of contemporary rustic arts. In truth, craftsmen and women had to refine their skills and new artists had to enter the field to bring the entire movement forward. Today, artists like Barney Bellinger, Randy Holden, and just a few others are doing extraordinary work. Nonetheless, the stigma of "rustic" being just another "garage" endeavor lingers on for some.

Next week we'll be exhibiting at the Architectural Digest Home Show at Pier 88 in Manhattan. This is a first time show for me. And I will be the only one exhibiting rustic furniture there so it remains a mystery on how well we will be received. The dates for the show are March 8-12. I am thrilled with the prospects of the show as my intention is to exhibit only the finest things being created today. The show is sponsored by the New York Times and Architectural Digest Magazine.

And so I begin work on my next book ADIRONDACK DESIGN (or something like that). Actually FLY FISHING THE GREAT WESTERN RIVERS will come out in the middle of April. The Adirondack book will be out in the early fall of 2005. This book will look at several historic homes in the Adirondacks. I'll also present several new homes and show the works of several new artists as well. It promises to be a great book.

I hope you enjoy the changes in the website. We'll be posting several more things during the next week or so. Please keep in touch and comments are always welcome. Ralph

PS. I have just reread the Newsletter and I seemed to have "rambled" a bit. It's because I had too much coffee this morning. I suppose I should spend more time talking about rustic furniture but the caffeine has overtaken me. I offer my apologies. Please forgive me!

Wednesday, January 28, 2004

Greetings to my fellow lovers of “rustic” (used here as a noun)! Well, we returned from Key West about a week ago. It was in the eighties there with clear blue skies and calm waters. The green of the island was a sight for weary, color-deprived eyes. The seafood delicious and the setting was more relaxing than I had hoped for. And so we returned to frozen water pipes, minus 25-degree temperatures, no heating oil and no wood for the fireplace in our beautiful Lake George home. It was a slap in the face to sanity.

But, in the face of adversity you do what is necessary to survive. And so we borrowed wood from the neighbor, woke up the oilman and boiled water to unfreeze the pipes. Fortunately, within twenty-four hours we rested wearily in front of the fireplace feeling comfortable knowing that we could at least flush the toilets.

We are redoing our website. I am always shocked at how many people view the site and how much time individuals actually spend perusing the many things we offer. So just to keep everyone stimulated and happy (and coming back) we are going to replace most of the gallery photos, add a few new sections on rustic architecture and rustic accessories and show photos from my upcoming book FLY FISHING THE GREAT WESTERN RIVERS. We will also add a few new buttons to allow viewers greater ease in navigating the site. At the same time within a week or so I’ll also have about twenty new pieces of furniture for sale as well as for your viewing pleasure.

My computer guru, Kylloe of Internet Intentions, is an absolute wizard at this kind of stuff. And I am incredibly happy he is associated with my efforts. Frankly, when it comes to computers I live in the dark ages. I will admit, however, I am a genius at solitaire. I bet I’ve played more games of computer solitaire than anyone on the planet. I rule!

I am, in truth, a limited person. I have the attention span of a three year old. I’m good at some things and have interests in just about everything. I never found something that didn’t fascinate me. As long as I am being openly and publicly perspicacious I should mention that like many people in the art world I don’t work well with others. In truth, I want things done immediately and I want them done correctly. Unfortunately few people completely agree with my time schedules so I am often left feeling incomplete and unsatisfied. But I do my best and I try to do things correctly. I work best by myself. When I was in the “real” world I never had a boss that treated me with basic human dignity. Hence I work for myself and try to treat people like I want to be treated.

And so I surround myself with people who are very competent. That’s the only way to do it. The people I work with in my gallery are all creative genius types. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your point of view), most of them, like myself are a little nuts. I’m not kidding. Barney Bellinger is the only one of the twenty or so people associated with my shop who is both sane and normal. He’s also the chief mental guru, spiritual guide and therapist here in the Adirondacks. Bordering on the realm of genius he is certainly one of the greatest rustic artists of the decade. When not creating extraordinary pieces of artwork he volunteers significant amounts of time and effort to both church and youth groups. Recently, he spent more than a year organizing, redesigning and creating an extraordinary conference hall for the Sacandaga Bible Conference center here in upstate New York. Volunteering all of his time he managed to create, with the help of many other volunteers, a striking facility that is profoundly inspirational. Barney is also unique in that he has allowed many of the other local rustic artists to work with him in his shop thus allowing them to gain valuable skills and experience. His influence on the direction of the rustic arts in the world today is profound.

Peter Winter is a classic “mad-hatter”. He’ll work thirty-six hours straight and then pass out. His attention span is significantly less than mine. When I was last in his studio I counted more then a hundred and fifty pieces that were in varying stages of completion. He has a profound and prodigious talent and is certainly capable of great insights into the art world. He is like a caged lion. He thrives on creative chaos. When he is “on” he creates little slices of magic. He is also a brilliant musician! Articulate in his own way he offers a perspective on the world that is both original and insightful.

Chris Wager, arguably one of the most creative and impressive rustic artists ever, will knock you over with his originality. Nonetheless, trying to get him to do something on time is like asking the government to spend no more then it takes in. But his artistic genius shines through all that. Always elevating his creations to the “next level” he constantly “knocks me out” when he shows up with furniture. When working with him I often forget that great things take time. If he is not completely satisfied he’ll trash the item and start over.

Veronica Nemethy, who paints in the classic Adirondack style, is a fiercely independent woman whose visions of the world surpass that of mere mortals like myself. Coming from a family of accomplished artists their comments on the world both inspire and challenge. Her attention to minute details drives me nuts. Her work is destined for the museums of the world.

Occasionally people who build stuff for us will often “disappear” during hunting and fishing season. I’ve had to bail people out of jail, hire lawyers for them, loan them money for tools, food, workshops, divorces, child care payments and vehicles. I’ve had to do therapy with more artists than I can remember. I even loaned people funds for down payments on their homes. I’ve also co-signed loans for vehicles just so people could reestablish their credit and get around. Some days I want to pull my hair out!

Other artists like Brian Kelly, Robby Secor, Lori Toledo, Johnny Bennett, and others are “unique” individuals with their own life stories. Many of the artists are mega-accomplished in other areas. Many are very well read. Johnny Bennett, Jerry Farrell and Kylloe are brilliant musicians. Barney Bellinger is an accomplished fly fisherman. Many are outright weird and bizarre and often shock me with their insights and brilliance. Art and the creations of artists truly guide lives. It’s not the other way around. Because these people are not what we would call “normal” they offer a new vision and a completely different perspective on our world. Artists are the treasures of any society. I both love and adore them. I’m enthralled with their brilliance. The pursuit of beauty is an honorable passion.

And so I continue to work within the art world. Frankly, I love it. But, I occasionally see a therapist just to try to keep my head on straight! (I don’t think it’s working.)

Nonetheless, I just wish that once in a while the artists I work with would act responsibly. It would make my life much easier.

But that’s the art world. It’s probably no different from the “real” world but, in truth, the people I deal with are independent souls that live outside the mainstream of society. They just aren’t normal. And that’s the way it should be. I would not have it any other way. If we want originality and uniqueness than we have to go to people who don’t have a traditional perspective, who are not normal, who don’t think normal thoughts. But, a word of caution is necessary here. I say all this in a very positive way. And I truly believe in the creative genius of all the people that I work with. If they were just average in thought their “creations and efforts” would be mediocre. And that’s not what either my clients or myself are looking for.

Fortunately, many of the people I do business with are incredibly grateful for my efforts to document and publicize the rustic movement through my books and presentations. When Doug and Janice Tedrow first started their business in Ketchum, Idaho, they had very few customers. Once they appeared in one of my books their phone rang off the hook. They attribute their success to the free PR they received in my publications. I attribute their success to their abilities as artists and business people. Nonetheless, they have become good friends and often call me to thank me for the exposure.

In my gallery I don’t take consignments. Some of the people associated with my gallery are, in truth, starving artists. Many of them live right on the edge. I don’t believe in keeping people poor. I generally pay people on the spot for things I want in my gallery. I only buy things that, if it never sells, I’ll still have something that I would keep for my own house. I probably get three or four photo packets a week of new merchandise that people want me to buy. Most of the items I see are in truth, mid level. I am always encouraging to those trying to get into the business. Once in a while someone really great comes out of the woodwork……not often, mind you, but once in a while someone shows up with real talent. I’m thrilled when it happens.

Many of my customers are serious shakers and movers in the world of politics and business. I have become friends with many of them. And I often speak of my business when in their company. They seem fascinated with small business ownership and the art world. One particularly bright individual suggested that I shouldn’t try to change any of the people I do business with. “Leave them alone” he said, “let them do what they do best”. He’s probably right.

And so I look forward to the release of my next book FLY FISHING THE GREAT WESTERN RIVERS this coming April. My good friend, attorney Bob Esperti, a long time member of the US Fly Fishing Team, was kind enough to write a very complimentary introduction to the book. I think you’ll love this book as I wrote it from a very personal perspective. It’s not a “how to or where to” book but rather a book of personal adventures. And it’s also got some really great photos in it!

And so I retire for the evening. I’ll be up every three or four hours to keep the fire in the fireplace going and I’ll feed the cats a few extra morsels just to keep them happy. I wish all of you well. Ralph

Saturday, December 24, 2003

Seasons Greeting to you all (or “ya’ll” as they say in the South). The holidays are upon us and I can only be grateful for the life that I lead and the time in which we live. At present we are visiting my in-laws in Chicago. This morning I wandered over to the local grocery store to refill the refrigerator at the home of our gracious hosts. It was one of those new mega-grocery stores that had everything from lattés, computer terminals, sushi, fresh bread, fresh cooked meals and miles of isles where one could purchase any type of food or ingredient ever conceived by the human race.

What an extraordinary world we live in. Fresh strawberries in the dead of winter, bananas from South America, wines from Europe and Cheerios from Battle Creek, Michigan are available to us throughout the land. A hundred years ago it would be considered insanity to even consider the comforts that we have at our finger tips on this day. The thought that I can hit a few buttons and speak with someone in remote China boggles my mind. The space shuttle, MRI’s, the Hubble Telescope, jet airplanes and computers humble me.

In truth, however, I prefer to think of fishing, log cabins and rustic furniture. The complexity of the world around me leaves me feeling, at times, well, a bit overwhelmed and underachieved. So I resort to the things that calm me. But I am thankful for the world and grateful that much of the creative efforts of humanity (but not all) has been directed toward improving the conditions of mankind.

But it’s also scary and depressing out there. More than forty thousand children die every day from starvation. In this world of bounty and plenty I struggle with our inability and often unwillingness to resolve such horrors. In a small way I do what I can and make contributions to any number of charities. I thank the Gods daily that I can feed my family.

Good friends of mine, both Ph.D.s from major schools in Boston, are the parents of an autistic child who is nine years old. The child is a low functioning individual who lives at home. I have spent a significant amount of time with this family and one can only imagine the stress of raising a handicapped child. Frankly I see his parents as angles as it would be incredibly easy to “abandon him” to the institutions and social services of the state. I say thanks every day for the fact that I have a healthy daughter.

Every holiday season I hear pundits pontificate on how horrible it is that the religious season of Christmas is degraded by materialism, greed and commercialism. Many people, some say with trepidation, actually make an entire year’s wages just from the holiday season. “God is dead”, they say…….“Just give me the money”. It is easy to interpret the season in this way. It is easy to look at the materialism and the greed and ponder the meaning of it all.

That’s one way to interpret it. Another way to view all this is to recognize that it’s quite an extraordinary thing to be able to feed ones family for an entire year because of a religious holiday. The ability to take care of ones family because of a religious holiday can only be looked upon as a gift from the heavens.

Nonetheless, I often think of gifts and gift giving at this time of the year. It’s probably something that most of us do. But on this day I wonder about such things. What are the gifts that were given to me that I really remember? What really changed my life? What will I always remember? What do I really cherish in my life that were gifts from other people?

I remember compliments most of all. It was never the material things. It was always the compliments. (Although a new fly rod is always appreciated!) In truth, I can get a lifetime out of one good compliment. My fourth grade teacher once told me in class (and in front of all my classmates) that I had written a really good paper. Many people have told me that they have found my books inspiring. And when I taught at Tufts University I was voted most inspirational teacher of the year for several years in a row. Compliments matter. I give them often and am thrilled when I receive them. Always say “thank you” to a compliment. Don’t deny or negate them. Give compliments often, especially to your subordinates and especially when they deserve it. Compliments are special and should not be taken lightly. Or given lightly for that matter.

And so winter is upon us. Business continues to be brisk. I get myself in trouble sometimes because I tell clients that we’ll have a project completed within a certain time frame. Unfortunately, because the furniture we build is very high end it always takes longer then anticipated to complete. And then I have the really unfortunate task of telling people that they’ll have to wait longer. This is often hard for me to do especially when I promise them something. But my clients usually understand and recognize that really great things take time. Right now we’ve been doing our best to complete several more pieces of furniture for a gorgeous lakeside home in Connecticut. We’ve spent more then a year on the project and I often wonder, because we’ve taken so long to complete the project, why the owners haven’t yet shot me! Nonetheless, we’ll get the job done correctly and the home will be featured in my book “ADIRONDACK DESIGN” that will be on the market in the spring of 2005.

In the shop now are several pieces by rustic artist Barney Bellinger. Barney is considered the “dean” in the business and many of the builders I employ have worked for him in the past. He has influenced many builders around the country and is the major Adirondack artist living today. Many people wait years to own a piece of his work and if you have considered acquiring a piece by him you may want to give me a call. Usually I don’t post his pieces on my site as they sell almost immediately.

I’ll be speaking at the Grove Park Inn in Asheville, N.C., this February. The Annual Arts and Crafts Conference is a big deal event not to be missed by anyone interested in the Stickley people, Limberts, Roycroft and others related to the Mission Movement in the very early 1900s.

I’ll also be exhibiting at the ARCHITECTURAL DIGEST HOME DESIGN SHOW in New York City in early March. This is also a big ticket show that last year saw nearly thirty thousand individuals walk through the front door! I’ll be bringing several very high end pieces to the show that will be for sale. We’ll also have a very impressive display of antler chandeliers as well. If you’ll be in “THE CITY” in March this is a must see event. We are the only rustic furniture exhibitors who will be at the show and we are honored that we have been invited to exhibit and sell my books!

And so I wish all of you a very wonderful holiday season. And many thanks for your interest in the Rustic Arts! Take care, Ralph

PS. Last summer an old friend of mine Cathy McCurdy from Colorado received a serious injury while horse back riding. I haven’t heard about her in a while. BM please email me.

PSS The RALPH KYLLOE BLUES BAND is playing at San Souci Restaurant on the east side of the lake in Lake George, NY, on New Years Eve. If you're in the "hood" check us out....you have a great time!

Saturday, November 15, 2003

Greetings to you all. On Friday, October 3, a reception was held for me in Bozeman, Montana. The party was "thrown" by the great folks at architect Larry Pearson's office. Larry and the extraordinary builders at Yellowstone Traditions (a contracting firm also in Bozeman) were the subject of my latest book THE RUSTIC CABIN. The party was the best I ever attended. More than 250 people showed up including several celebrities whose homes appear in the book!. Two bands played well past midnight. I signed more then 300 books and took orders for many more. The food was great and the setting gorgeous! My personal thanks to Larry Pearson and Jacque Spitler for making the evening such a wonderful event!

The following day another book signing was held at the Barnes and Nobel Book Store in Bozeman. I met many new folks and signed more books than I can remember.

My presentation at the Western Design Conference in Cody, Wyoming went well. It was standing room only. I showed slides from my latest book and answered many questions from the audience. In general the conference was larger than the previous year. This may also be the last year that the conference is held in Cody. The conference has changed hands and may be held in other cities at different times of the year. This, of course, is intended to introduce a wider audience to the uniqueness of western design and the extraordinary artistic level achieved and demonstrated by the exhibiting artists. Wherever the conference goes, however, it is the place to be if you are interested in western design.

As long as I'm on the subject I should mention that THE RUSTIC CABIN is nearly three fourths sold out of its first printing. The book has received excellent reviews and is sold at high-end bookstores throughout the country. I should also mention that I sell the book (and my other books as well) here in my Gallery in Lake George, NY. Personally autographed first edition copies of my books are just a phone call away or you can order them directly through my website at www.Ralphkylloe.com!

My next book FLY FISHING THE GREAT WESTERN RIVERS will be out this spring. Those who have seen the text and photos say that it promises to be one of the great books on fly-fishing. Unfortunately, there are still a few decisions yet to be made on the exact size of the book but I hope to resolve such issues shortly. Bob Esperti, a ten year member of the US Fly Fishing Team and fisherman extraordinaire, has kindly agreed to write a short introduction to the book. Those of you who fly fish will find this book to be quite wonderful. It is neither a where-to or how-to book but rather it's a tale of personal experiences accompanied by wonderful photos of the most beautiful rivers in the west!

And so we spent a month in the Yellowstone Park region. I photographed four gorgeous homes, met more great people than I can remember and listened to elk bugle as they established their harems and ruled their little corners of the earth. We also spent hours watching huge bull bison knock heads as they asserted themselves. We fished just about everyday on different rivers. I was thrilled to successfully catch and release both a 26 " and a 24" rainbow on the Henrys Fork River in Idaho! And all that before the sun came up!

At present I am working on four other books that will, hopefully, be on the market within the next few years. The subjects will include Adirondack design, rustic fireplaces, contemporary rustic artwork, and other areas of interest. More on this later.

I will be speaking and signing books at the Arts and Crafts Conference held annually at the Grove Park Inn in Asheville, N.C. The dates for the conference are February 20-22, 2004. This is a big-ticket conference for those interested in Mission Style and Prairie School design. There will be several great presentations and many high-end exhibitors showing both historical and contemporary furnishings and decorative accessories. More then twelve hundred people will attend the conference. The Grove Park Inn is certainly one of Americas great historical hotels. Completed in the early part of the 1900's, the structure is made of stones and is complete with original Stickley furnishings. For more information call Bruce Johnson at 800 438 5800.

The Ralph Kylloe Band played at San Soucis Restaurant on November 1. This was a full-blown costume party. More than 100 people attended! I went as a Klingon Warrior in full battle regalia. I had several photos made of me but, in truth, I'm a bit embarrassed to post any of the photos on the Internet. I can assure everyone, however, that the band sounded great. I even sang Jail House Rock to an enthusiastic audience who danced the night away. We will be playing at the Sans again on News Years Eve. The restaurant is located on the East Side of Lake George here in the Beautiful Adirondacks!

The Keene Valley store is closed for the season. We will open the showroom again in May! From the beginning of the store being open it became very apparent that the demand for very high quality rustic furniture in that region was significant. Even though we were open only a few months we sold, along with many other items, more than 40 Amish rockers. And our rockers are more expensive (and stronger, better built and more comfortable) than locally made rockers! Further we have contracted with a string of high-end B&B's to design and decorate more than a hundred bedrooms at different locations around the country. This project alone will take at least three years! In truth, we are very happy with the Keene Valley location but more space would be helpful. We are presently in the process of establishing a much larger location in the same area. More on this later.

We will be exhibiting at the ADIRONDACK LIVING SHOW to be held in Danbury, Connecticut. The dates for the show will be December 6-7. Call Jeff Fraiser at 518 371 6363 for more info on this show.

We will also be exhibiting at the ARCHITECTURAL DIGEST HOME DESIGN SHOW. The dates for this show are March 11-14, 2004. The show will be held at Pier 94 in New York City. This is the largest and most influential home design show in the country. Exhibitors are by invitation only. More than 36,000 designers, architects and consumers attended last years exhibit. We will be showing very high end, one-of-a-kind Adirondack pieces. Needless to say, we are very excited about this show. Contact Troy Hanson at 312 527 7531 for more information on the show.

Winter is fast approaching. The boat is out of the water and we drained the pipes at our summer home on Lake George. The deer are again feeding out of our hands in our back yard and a local porcupine appears every evening to munch of spruce twigs. New snow tires on my truck cost me nearly seven hundred dollars but are an absolute necessary here in the Adirondacks. It was ten degrees this morning. The wind roared all night and knocked down a few old trees in the neighborhood. We lost power twice last night but the fireplace kept us warm. It's nice to be without the TV. It's nice to talk with people.

My four-year-old daughter has asked Santa for a piano for Christmas. I hope she stays with music. As a small business owner many times I'm placed in an adversarial position. I often find that I have to assert myself to get things done. People who run businesses know what I'm talking about. In truth, I enjoy the music I play with my band mates. It's not adversarial. It's not confrontational. It's harmonic. Musicians work together to create something artistic, nonverbal and soothing. We musically compliment each other. I find that I relax and forget about the travails of the day as I play music. I hope others have an outlet for their creative energies. Without it life would be unbearable.

Take care and keep in touch, Ralph

Wednesday, September 17, 2003

Greetings to you all again! I had an interesting phone call today. In fact I get just about the same phone call everyday. A man called saying that he admired my books and had found them both inspirational and informational. Then, for the next ten minutes he proceeded to tell me about all the books he wanted to write. I must admit that he had some good ideas and I told him so. Nonetheless, in time I broke into his discussion and told him that there are only two sorts of people in the world….people who actually write books and people who say they are going to write books.

“Which one are you?”, I asked.

“Well, I’m telling you what I'm going to write” he said.

“Rather then tell me why don’t you just sit down and write them”.

“Well”, he said, “I’m going to”.

“When?”, I asked.

“I’ll get to it”.

“When?” I asked again. He said nothing. I repeated the idea that its necessary to actually do the work rather then talk about it. He said that he had been thinking about the books for the past year.

“It’s now time to sit down and write the books,” I said. He got mad at me and hung up the phone.

In this world talk is cheap. I hate to be so brutal about it but it’s true. Each one of us has incredible talents and yet very few of us really bother to either exploit or develop them. It’s probably a fear thing. Or maybe we ’re just lazy. In truth, it takes an enormous amount of courage to create, to be productive. Thomas Edison once said, “that if we all did the things we are capable of doing we would literally astound ourselves”. I love this quote. I think of it often. It hangs above my desk and when I get tired or frustrated, which is more often then I care to admit, I refer to the quote.

In truth, most people who call me asking about books understand immediately. We then proceed with a discussion of contracts, agents, lawyers, publishing companies, etc. I would like to think that the info I’ve learned over the past decade is helpful to others.

The rewards of life come from effort. Anyone who has taken the time to become competent at a musical instrument, or any other endeavor, knows the passionate joys of accomplishment. And I’m not talking about monetary rewards. There is something deeply personal about the ability to do something well. Do not take this lightly. This is what life is all about.

Quality in any form is art at its finest. Quality brings meaning to our lives. Quality and art lets us feel good about ourselves.

On another note each of us has at some time in our lives been on the “bottom of the totem pole”. Each of us sooner or later has been on the receiving end of “bad Karma”. At some point we’ve all been abused or mistreated. Each of us has known, if only briefly, humiliation. God knows I’ve had my fair share. The greatest revenge against such things is good living. Quality and living well, regardless of how much money each of us makes, ameliorates any evil that has ever been done to us. Good living does wonders for the soul.

Just a bit more on this point….. I also believe that once we’re standing in front of the “pearly gates”, God is going to look each of us right in the eye and ask us if we did the best we possibly could. “What did you do with the gifts I gave you?”, he’ll ask. And we better have a good answer. I’m certain that he’ll get around to the Ten Commandments but a good attorney can find loopholes in any of these dictates. It’s important that we cultivate ourselves.

Three months ago I went to my Doctor for my yearly exam. My blood pressure was too high and my cholesterol level was in the stratosphere he said. So he gave me some prescriptions and said that I would probably have to take the meds the rest of my life. So I went down to the pharmacists and forked out two hundred dollars. But then it hit me. That’s $2,400 a year. That’s equal to four new fly rods each year…and I would have to do this the rest of my life. So I took the drugs for a month. Then one morning I work up and realized that my health was totally, and completely my responsibility…not someone else’s. I stopped eating all the junk….no more pizzas and Twinkies at mid night. No more evening cocktails. No more eggs fried in butter. No more fried foods. In two months I’ve lost twenty-five pounds. I have never felt better. In truth, many of us, myself included, make pigs out of ourselves. Don’t be mad at me for saying this but it’s true. We don’t need all kinds of special diets or expensive diet pills or exercise equipment or counseling. Just stop eating like pigs. I’m sorry to be so brutal but that ’s how I saw myself. In truth, food is incredibly delicious and “friendly”. It’s also the most addictive stuff I’ve ever known. Just remember to be good to yourself and take care of your body…it’s the only one you’ve got.

I returned from my yearly trip to Alaska a week or so ago. The fishing was extraordinary. We fished, for a week, on the Alagnak River in the Katmi National Forest. It rained everyday. It was windy and cold. It averaged about fifty degrees in the day. But we caught more fish then I ever thought possible. I am not exaggerating when I say that we each caught well over 200 trout per day and as many Silver Salmon as we were capable of doing battle with. Further, there were big bears all over the place. Harry Howard of Yellowstone Traditions accidentally “jumped” one on the shores of the river. He was only fifteen feet away! And each evening huge Brown Bears wandered into our camp and had to be chased away by the camp dogs.

Personally, I exhausted myself by throwing hundreds of casts a day with my fly rod. My hands were incredibly swollen during the past week and I had to get cortisone shots this morning just to be able to unlock my fingers. I guess I’m the first one to suffer from a new category of afflictions now known as “fly fishing injuries”!

Next year we’ll be going to the Kenai River in Alaska during the second week in September. I’ve been there many times in the early fall. The trout are huge, the fall colors dramatic and the tourists are almost all gone! If you want to go let me know! Believe me you won’t be disappointed.

There will be a reception for me (I didn't think anyone ever noticed!) as well as a book signing sponsored by Larry Pearson Architects in Bozeman, Montana. The date is October 3, 2003. 7 PM. Call Jacque at Larry’s office at 406 587 1997 for more information on this event. The following day (Saturday) is another book signing to be held at Barnes and Noble also in Bozeman, MT.

“THE RUSTIC CABIN: design and Architecture” the latest book by me, will be on the shelves the last week of September, a few weeks from now. This is a great book. It focuses on regional rustic design, specifically rustic architecture and interior design from the Northern Rocky Mountain region. Included are several stellar homes that will knock your socks off! By next week, I’ll have the cover of the book and several of the photos posted on my site. Check it out!

I am very happy to say that I have resolved my differences with my publisher. FLY FISHING THE GREAT WESTERN RIVERS will be a large format, $60 hardcover book. It will be out on the shelves this coming spring. I had a ball doing this book. Last year I spend seven months in the West and in Alaska just fly fishing! It was great……you all should try it sometime! Just take some serious time off and go enjoy yourselves! Life is short….you all know this….so enjoy yourself once in a while.

Keep me posted on any new and wonderful things. More later and my kindest regards to you all, Ralph

Thursday, August 7, 2003

Greetings, The summer marches on. Its rained here everyday for the past ten days. The grass is green and the mosquitoes (not the fish) are biting. But, Alaska calls! I'll be leaving along with a group of friends on the 23 of this month. I promise I won't feed the bears!

The new Ralph Kylloe Showroom in Keene Valley, New York is open! Initially, a few local residents expressed some concern about my creating a new rustic building in town but once the structure was complete almost everyone has mentioned that the business is a great addition to the community. So there it is!

It took about eight days to build the showroom. My contractor, Marvin “Pinky” O’Dell is an absolute wizard when it comes to finishing jobs on time and within budget. Robby Secor, who builds my beds and does all my staircases and railings, completed a great looking handicap ramp and railing system on short notice. With all that said I should include the fact that business in Keene Valley is exceptional. At present I have pieces at the showroom from the greatest rustic artists in the country including Peter Winter, Barney Bellinger, Chris Wager, the Ridgeway's, Brian Kelly and a few others. We also carry an extensive line of furniture that I designed and is manufactured for me by the Old Hickory Furniture Company!

I promise I’ll have photos of the new shop on the Internet within the week. Right now I’m busy with a bunch of other projects and will make new photos soon…I promise.

Rustic furniture, as most of you know, is now on the map. Almost daily I receive packets of photos from individuals around the country who want me to see their latest creations. Magazines everywhere are showing photos of the latest log cabins. And more and more books are on the market showing the latest trends in rustic design.

This September I’ll be hosting a group of adult artists from Finland at my house on Lake George. They are coming to America to learn about building rustic furniture. They’ll be here for about a week and while here they’ll be able to see the builders at the RUSTIC FURNITURE FAIR held annually at the Adirondack Museum. Also while they are here we’ll give them a tour of several of the Great Camps here in the Adirondacks. Not surprisingly, it was their Scandinavian ancestors who actually built many of the Great Camps more than a hundred years ago. For instance, Camp Top Ridge, here in the Adirondacks, was actually constructed by more than a hundred Scandinavian carpenters in the 1930s! I find it interesting that they should return here to study an art form that had been a part of their heritage for hundreds of years!

BOOKS

I am very happy to announce that my next book, THE RUSTIC CABIN, will be out in September. This book focuses on the regional rustic design of architect Larry Pearson and The Yellowstone Traditions Construction Company in Bozeman, Mt. I am certain that you will find the homes in this book to be absolutely stunning. It is, I am happy to say, my best book yet and you can purchase autographed, first editions directly from me! Just email me for purchase information and I’ll get right back to you.

On the subject of books my present publisher and I are in conflict over creative rights. Believe me when I say, “this stuff is a real drag”. I just want things done the way I want them. Right now all kinds of lawyers are involved and I can only hope that my contract negotiations are resolved before I go broke. Check back with me on this please. At the rate things are moving on this subject I may have to go back into long-term therapy before all this is resolved. I’ll take any advice I can get! Nonetheless, I can safely assure everyone that I have more books planned…so sit tight and I’ll let people know about future books as soon as I can (that is when I am allowed speak on the subject by my legal team.)

PUBLIC APPEARANCES

In September I’ll be speaking at the WESTERN DESIGN CONFERENCE held annually in Cody, Wyoming. This is a great event not to be missed by anyone interested in Western Rustic Design. During the conference I’ll also have a book signing and will be more than happy to share a few stories with anyone who just happens alone. Cody is just outside the east entrance to Yellowstone National Park. The bison and elk will be in full rut and the fall colors are spectacular at that time of the year. So don’t miss this conference and be sure to spend a few extra days wandering around Yellowstone!

This February I’ll be one of the principal speakers at the ARTS AND CRAFTS CONFERENCE held annually at the Grove Park Inn in Asheville, North Carolina. This is a “big deal” conference. More then eleven hundred sophisticated people attend the four-day event. While there they’ll see great exhibits, hear great lectures and enjoy one of America’s greatest historical hotels. I am supposed to be speaking about rustic furniture and design but I’ll sneak in a few photos of me fishing in Alaska just to liven things up a bit!

MUSIC

On Tuesdays for the rest of the summer the NORTHWOODS BLUES TRIO, with me on bass, Tony Cocca on guitar and Jill Learner singing, will be playing at Turros Italian Café in Lake George, NY. This is a classy, intimate restaurant that serves really great food. If you’re in the neighborhood stop on by. We’re planning on having a great time! Music, mostly jazz and blues, begins at around 7:30PM!

Also this fall the band Dreaded Wheat will occasionally be joining with the Northwoods Blues Band to form a high energy Rock and Roll Band! We’ve played together several times in the past and great things have happened! No one has rushed the stage, mind you, and no one has thrown their underwear at us but we’ve had a great time and made some really great music. Fully aware that I’m getting older and the rock and roll scene is, in truth, for “young guys”, we anticipate having a great time…and I promise to wear earplugs! Now that I am returning to my youth I’m still trying to figure out what to do when I grow up!

My best to all of you, Ralph

Sunday, June 29, 2003

Greetings Fellow Rustic Enthusiasts,

I am thrilled to announce that I have purchased a wonderful bookstore in Keene Valley, New York. The valley is the main route into the Adirondacks and into Lake Placid. Keene Valley is a picturesque small community surrounded by stunning mountains and the famous Ausable River. At present we are working 24 hours per day to have the store open by July 4! Not only will we be offering gorgeous room settings of high-end rustic furnishings but we are also building a great 30’ x 30’ rustic building to sell furniture and antique rustic accessories.

Further, along with antler chandeliers, Old Hickory, museum quality Adirondack furniture, etc., we are now offering leather furnishings of the highest quality. To say the least I am thrilled with this new location. We’ve looked for the past three years for a second spot here in the Adirondacks and I am thrilled to be able to expand our business here in the east.

On another note we are closing the showroom in Big Sky, Montana. It’s just too hard to run a business that is that far away. We did good business out there and the location is ideal for us. But the extra shipping costs to Montana and the difficulty of keeping good employees and other business systems in place required us to close the showroom there.

On another, more upbeat note I received an honorable mention for my book CABINS AND CAMPS (2002). The book was nominated for a Benjamin Franklin Award in Los Angles. I received a great bouquet of flowers (I would have preferred a new fly rod) and a plaque to hang on my wall! Nonetheless, I’ll take any awards I can get!

My fourteenth book THE RUSTIC CABIN (Gibbs Smith Publisher, $60) will be out in early September. I can assure you that this will be a great book for individuals interested in rustic architectural design. I focused on the extraordinary works of architect Larry Pearson of Bozeman, Montana. Ten of the greatest contemporary rustic homes in the country will be featured in the book.

I should also mention that I just returned from two weeks in Montana where I photographed four great homes. I also found time to extensively fish the Big Hole, the Gallatin, the Beaverhead, the Madison and the Missouri in Montana. On the Big Hole we caught the Stone Fly hatch perfectly. We caught over a hundred trout a day (Browns and Rainbows) per person. Once the hatch stopped the fishing dropped to almost nothing. I was also up in Glacier National Park for three days! I saw several bears and some of the most extraordinary scenery in North America. We’ve been there many times in the past but always thrill to the DRIVE TO THE SUN highway in the park and the extraordinary old lodges in the park as well.

Finally, I should say, that summer is here and our Lake George Gallery is full of great stuff and, equally important, some walk in traffic! We had a brutal winter here. It was twenty-five below zero for months on end here and our pipes in the house were frozen for nearly three months! It was miserable!

But today, the 27 of June, is my birthday! So happy birthday to my self! Holy Cow I’m 56 years old! Frankly, I’ve never been happier! I have great friends, a wonderful family and a great business. So I continue to count my blessings. Just think…. when I’m 74 years old I’ll have to worry about college tuition for my daughter. I keep hoping that I’ll win the lottery so I won’t have to worry about such bills.

At present almost all of the furniture in my website has been sold. Nonetheless, I’ll be getting about eight more pieces from Barney Bellinger within the week and several pieces from other builders as well. I’ll do my best to post them on my site within the week.

On August 23 I will begin my annual trek to Alaska. This year we will be fly fishing for huge Rainbows on the Alagnak River. The Alagnak is out in the boon docks somewhere. The camp is about a half hour flight out of King Salmon, Alaska, near Brooks Camp (that’s where all the photos of bears catching salmon are made). This is absolute pristine wilderness with just glaciers, mountains and bears to keep us company. There is room for twelve fishermen and so far eight have signed up. The entire seven-day trip including guides, food and lodging is only $2,000. Airfare is extra. Normally the trip is $3,400 but we got a great deal so how could I refuse? If you know of any other interested fishermen let me know.

So please keep in touch and many thanks again for your interest in my efforts. Ralph!

PS. I had many interesting thoughts this past year. Most have fallen by the wayside never (hopefully) to be dredged up again. But as I woke this morning I remembered something that happened while I was at Disney in Florida. I was with my daughter on a “go-cart” track at the Magic Kingdom. Round and round we went. Suddenly the car directly in front of me slammed on his brakes coming to a dead stop. I hit him full force in the rear. No big deal. He drove off, as did I. My daughter laughed, as did I.

About ten years ago I was on my way to a restaurant for dinner. It was April. To my shock a sudden ice storm developed. I was on a winding back road. I was going only twenty miles per hour. The road veered left…..but my truck kept going straight. I hit a telephone pole head on. After a few minutes I was able to wiggle my way out of what was left from my vehicle. If I had not had on my safety belt I would have gone through the window. So there I sat for more then an hour. Freezing rain, ice, feeling stupid. The truck was a total loss….but I was basically OK.

So the thought occurred to me this morning…. If Disney can have cars on their track that tolerate rear end collisions with no damage or injuries at twenty miles per hour why can’t Detroit or Japan make a car that is virtually indestructible as well? Is this a relevant question or am I totally off base?

And as long we’re on the subject of technology…..It’s now springtime and the birds are singing, the trees are just blooming, the motorcycles are roaring, the ATV’s are rumbling, and the jet skis will once again “tear up” Lake George. Fortunately, the snow is gone so we aren’t terrorized by snowmobiles. So here’s my point. If automobiles are required to have mufflers then all other individual transport vehicles should be required to have mufflers as well. Automobiles are relatively quiet. Motorcycles, snow mobiles, jet skis, ATV’s, and other sport” vehicles should be required to be “volume” friendly as well. I don’t think this is too much to ask. As I snowshoe in the deep woods here in the Adirondacks the roaring of snowmobiles in the distance often torments me. At night as we sleep on the shores of Lake George we hear the buzzing of jet skis and way in the background we hear the deep rumbling of motorcycles as they make their way home. Human beings deserve some peace and quiet. Consequently all vehicles should be subject to the same laws and regulations. Am I nuts? Is this too much to ask? Am I treading on the rights of others? Should I run for president? What about a congressional seat first? Sometimes I just don ’t know what to do! My best to all of you. Ralph

Sunday, April 13, 2003

Greetings to you all,

Well, spring has finally arrived here in the Adirondacks. And not a moment too soon. It was truly the winter of discontent. And I am very happy to say that the pipes in our house are now unfrozen and we can again wash dishes, and take showers without having to go into the gallery.

To add insult to injury just last week we got another 24 inches of snow. Thinking that we needed just a bit of warm weather we drove down to High Point, NC, for the twice-annual furniture expo. A few days before we arrived there it was in the 80s range. When we showed up it was in the early forties, with severe rain and howling winds. Nonetheless, we bought many new things for the gallery.

The drive down was itself an event. Our four-year-old daughter drove with us and was confined to her car seat for the duration of the drive. From the moment we left she complained that she was lonely and insisted that my wife Michele sit in the back with her. And so for nearly thirteen hours I listened to my wife read dozens of kid’s books out loud. Further, Lindsey insisted on hearing only “her” music. So to this day I can still hear, roaring in my head, tunes like “This Little light of mine,” “ Ring around the Rosy”, “Old McDonald had a farm”, and numerous other songs sung by kids. And so this morning I found myself singing at the top of my lungs in the shower “Mary had a little lamb”! My wife and I had a good laugh about it.

My twelfth book, CABINS AND CAMPS, has been nominated for the prestigious Benjamin Franklin Award! In the book business this is a big deal. Its not the Pulitzer or the Nobel Prize but it is something I should be proud of. And I hope I win! The awards ceremony is at the end of May in Los Angeles. Maybe my publisher will send me a free airplane ticket so I can attend the festival. We’ll see what happens.

Business has picked up dramatically here at the gallery. People are starting to open up their homes here in the Adirondacks and are out shopping for new “goodies.

I’ve been incredibly fortunate to recently acquire several pieces of furniture from Rustic Artist Extraordinaire Barney Bellinger. Barney is, without a doubt, the most accomplished and most influential rustic artist ever. Many people have waited for years to acquire his creations so if you’ re in the market for something great give me a call or check out the photos on my site. Actually Barney and our respective families are dear friends. We all fish together and have dinners often. Barney is a deeply spiritual man and always says a wonderful blessing before our meals together. We need more people like him in the world.

We still have a few spots open for the annual Alaskan fly-fishing trip. The trip is for seven days beginning August 24 and ending on the 30th. The fishing on the Alagnak River is extraordinary with just about anyone being able to catch up to fifty Rainbows a day. The Rainbows get up to 30 inches and are nothing less then fat footballs as they have been feeding on high protein salmon eggs for most of the summer. There are also plenty of salmon around and if you want the fight of your life you should try a 20 lb Silver salmon on a five-weigh rod! The price of the trip is normally $3,400 plus airfare but we worked out a deal with the owners for $2,000 each plus a few plane tickets. Not only will the fishing be great but the only other fisherman you’ll have to deal with are the huge Alaskan brown bears who prefer to dine at the waters edge as well! If you’re interested give me a call. We only have four spots left out of twelve.

And so the birds are finally chirping here in the Adirondacks. I fed the deer in my yard last night and I’m happy to say that all five of them came through the winter in good shape. As I look out my window I can see a few of them milling around waiting to see if I put out any more food. Hopefully, within in a few months the does will have their babies and they’ ll bring them around for their first meal of grains covered with molasses.

Spring calls for the renewal of live. New creatures appear on the face of the earth and many left for a different place throughout the winter. Life does not stop. And no one can be spared the ravages of time. The world is ours to enjoy for only a few moments. The appreciation of beauty, the warmth of our relationships and the cultivation of our lives and the lives of others is the reason for being. Take care and be good to your self, Ralph

Monday, March 31, 2003

Greetings,

Teddy Roosevelt said a long time ago that “peace time is when sons bury their fathers. War time is when fathers bury their sons”.

It’s the winter with no end. It’s the mother of all winters. It’s the winter from hell. It just keeps on coming! We had a serious break of warm weather then its now back to winter. At five AM this morning the deer were in my back yard wanting more corn. The stray cat (my daughter calls him Black Kitty) was crying for more food and our high tech, fully computerized monitor heater screamed for another four hundred dollars of fuel oil. So be it!

It could be worse. I could be living in Iraq where the average doctor is paid $4 for each patient he sees. To make ends meet they see an average of more than two hundred patients a day. I wonder how they pay for their medical malpractice insurance? I wonder about the quality of their health care?

Or I could be a young man living in North Korea. With more than a million men in their army I wonder how their government plans on helping each individual to achieve his own potential. After many years in the military I wonder if their brains are only filled with hate and violence.

Young people should spend their time not only in public service but actively involved in educating themselves and cultivating their talents as well. I wonder if the money their government spends on their military would not best be spent on building institutions of higher learning, on hospitals, on day care centers, on sanitation facilities, on museums or on health care for the young and old. Maybe they should concentrate on raising more food so their citizens could have something to eat. I wonder if their kids will ever make major contributions to art or architecture or literature or music or science. I wonder how many doctors or astronauts or scientists their society will produce? I wonder if the role of government should only be to increase the quality of the lives of the citizens they govern? I wonder how individuals with only messages of hate and reprisals become leaders?

Maybe I shouldn’t think of such things. Maybe peace and prosperity is too much to ask. Maybe the enhancement of the individual is only a fleeting thought.

I’ve had the blahs the past month. So I had a long talk with my four-year-old daughter Lindsey this morning. “What’s your favorite thing in the world?” I asked. “Cheerios!” she shouted. “What’s the thing that makes you most happy in the world” I asked. “Gummy Bears” she shouted with glee. “What’s your favorite thing to do in the world”, I asked. “Hug my Daddy”, she said. I had tears in my eyes.

Maybe we should all just spend a few minutes and take pleasure in the simple things. Maybe we should bother to take just a moment and recognize all the potential in the world. Maybe we should take just a minute to realize how extraordinary life really is and how much others really mean to us. It just might be a better world if we did. Or at least it just might make our day a little better and, if we’re lucky it just might make the winter go away a little faster.

Tom Edison once said, “If we all did the things we are capable of doing we would literally astound ourselves.” I love this thought.

OTHER STUFF

We were in Florida for the past ten days. We stayed at the Wilderness Lodge in Disney and spent a fortune. Thank God for charge cards! But the weather was great. I spend many happy moments in the hot tub and swimming in their many pools. At the Magic Kingdom I rode on the carousel, took a flight on Dumbo and the Tea Cup ride, nearly got sick on the roller coasters, had numerous photos made of my family with Snow White, Goofey and Mickey, and ate too much cotton candy (what is that stuff?). From there we went down to our favorite haunts in Key West. What a great place. Warm air surrounded us and the fresh colors of green bathed us with brilliance. While I was there I took my wife and daughter on a sixteen-foot skiff and fished in the Gulf of Mexico at night. I hooked and landed a hundred pound tarpon! It took more then an hour to bring him to the boat and I can assure everyone that I was exhausted at the end of the fight. He was released back to the warm waters of the ocean. I am certain that there are “doubters” out there but I can assure everyone that I have witnesses and photos as proof!

Before we went to Florida I visited Montana where I finished up another book. This one focuses on the extraordinary work of Architect Larry Pearson and the fantastic work of the creative artists at Yellowstone Traditions in Bozeman, Montana. This will be a big sixty-dollar book. It will be on the market this fall. Three hundred and fifty color photos and some very interesting text! This will be my best book yet. And contrary to rumors that I hear once in a while, I do all my own photography and I write my own text. So there! In a month or so I’ll post several photos from the new book on my site just to tantalize any folks who just happen to be looking. This is another book about the rich and famous and their extraordinary homes. I never say who owns the home or where the home is located. The people who let me into their lives and homes are really wonderful folks and their privacy will be respected.

Montana in the bastion of Regional Rustic Architecture and Design in the world. I’m not kidding. No one is doing more innovative structures then Architect Larry Pearson and Harry Howard at Yellowstone Traditions. So if you’re in the market to build a new rustic home be sure to contact Harry and Larry and then give me a call cause we’ll happily decorate the entire house for you!

I also spent seven months of last year working on a large book titled FLY FISHING THE GREART WESTERN RIVERS. This book will be out just before Fathers day of 2004. I had a great time doing this book and those who have read it say that it will become the classic fly-fishing book!

Business continues to be brisk here at the gallery. Sometimes I pull my hair out trying to complete projects on time. Most of the time things go along perfectly but once in a long while we screw up big time. This winter was difficult because we had a hard time collecting materials. Too cold and too much snow. But the projects get done and as much as possible we try to keep everyone happy. And frankly, we’re pretty good at it! No one (knock on wood) has taken a shot at me yet and we’ve never been sued!

We don’t skimp when it comes to quality. We really like the best stuff. We often have the works of Barney Bellinger in our store. Barney is, without a doubt, the most influential rustic artist in the country. His works are extraordinary and demand for his things are great. Often people have waited years for his pieces and no one has ever been disappointed. Right now we have five of his pieces in the gallery. If you’re interested in any of them let me know. Also I’ll be putting several more pieces of high-end furniture up on the site with the next day or so. So spend just a few moments to check out the new “goodies”. I’m certain that you’ll enjoy them.

This summer I’ll be starting work on another book project called AT HOME IN THE ADIRONDACKS. Barney and a few of the other really great rustic artists will be featured in the book. We’ll also show some of the really great homes up here in the frozen north! This book should be out in the fall of 2004.

My band, THE NORTH WOODS BLUES BAND, played at the West Mountain Ski Resort last night to an enthusiastic crowd. We gave several encores and had an absolutely great time. Our new singer Mike is absolutely great and we had numerous musicians from as far away as New York City sit in with us on several songs.

Life is good, spring is just a few steps around the corner and the robins are again building a nest in a tree just outside my office window. On this day I’m happy to be alive, Ralph

PS, I almost forgot. I’ll be setting up at the ADIRONDACK LIVING SHOW in Saratoga Springs, NY, Easter Weekend. I’ll have more then twenty pieces of furniture at the show. This promises to be a great event so if you want to see the latest in Adirondack Living stop on by the show. You won’t be disappointed. R

Sunday, February 23, 2003

Greetings again, It's now Sunday morning. The horrible weather that has haunted us for the past month appears to have abated. It's now about 30 degrees and raining outside. I took a short walk this morning and in the far distance I heard the ringing of church bells. The events in my life of the past month (my mother passed away a few weeks ago) have necessitated that I think of things other than business or fishing or music or the many other things that occupies the minds of us humans.

I struggle with traditional religions. For me it's not necessary to attend churches or ceremonies on a regular basis. However, I pray daily thanking whomever for my blessings and opportunities. I think often of what is of real importance while we are alive. We are not alone in this world. Our lives are closely intertwined with the lives of others. Our thoughts, words and deeds affect others far more then we realize. The greatest evil that we can do is to take away the opportunity for someone else to feel good about themselves. Conversely, the greatest good in the world is when we bestow on others the opportunity to feel good about themselves. A compliment is a gift from god. Offered sincerely it can elevate ones life to new heights. It's necessary to be able to both offer and accept compliments graciously. The taking away of ones dignity is the ultimate sin. The bestowing of an honest compliment on others is a godly act. The helping of others is not forgotten.

Regardless of the troubles that we, as individuals, may have it could always get worse. In my life I often hit serious valleys and high peaks. What gets me through the low points, however, is that I know a change will come and shortly I'll experience the joys of life again. This is nothing new to all of us and we all face our problems in different styles. That's what makes us unique.

But what brings character to our lives is not the way we suffer but rather it's what we do with the tribulations that make us "good". The way we feel about ourselves is reflective of how we meet the difficulties in our lives.

But we have other responsibilities as well. We have the profound responsibility of cultivating ourselves throughout our entire lives. It is not good enough to waste time. It is not good enough to approach things with mediocrity. We need to expect more of ourselves. We need to do more with our talents. It is a sin to leave them dormant. I am not a "bible" person but a quote on a folk art painting I saw in Key West a few years ago was, to me, rather profound. "Forget not the gifts that are within you". It's necessary to keep that in mind.

Art is a gift from the gods. Nothing can elevate ones life like art. And it can be applied in every facet of living. Art is not an adjective. It's a verb. It's an active process. Folding clothes or washing dishes can be a profound art form just as much as painting or music or dance or literature.

It's also necessary to be good to yourself. Negative addictions are the bane of existence. We all have them. It's necessary to control them. It's not easy. I like a good cheeseburger late at night sometimes. Overindulgence in anything will kill you.

I worked with a friend of mine in Boston for a few years. He was a cancer surgeon. And every Friday for years I spent the day with him. Sometimes it was in the operating room and sometimes it was in his office seeing patients. My heart went out to those people who were told that they had cancer or some other dreaded disease. But the hardest thing was to tell their wives or lovers or children or grandkids that the person they loved was not going to make it. We need to think of the impact our actions have on the lives of others. We are not alone in this world.

When all is said and done we can only look back on our lives and wonder if we did "OK". Many studies have been done on the "real meaning " of living. Thousands of people who were approaching death have been asked about the important things as they now perceived them. Every person asked mentioned that it was not how much money they made or what they acquired. Everyone asked commented that they wished they had spent more time with their loved ones. They also wished that they had "cultivated" themselves more and they wished they had been "nicer" to people. It's a lesson we should all consider.

And so it's a little after ten in the morning here in wet Lake George, New York. I have several clients coming into my gallery today. I'm sure that business will be brisk. Wednesday morning I'll be leaving for Montana on business and will be back a week later. I'll miss my wife and daughter. I recall a line from a song by good friend Jorma Kaukonen, "sunshine's waiting for me just a little further down the road". My best to you all, Ralph

Sunday, February 16, 2003

Greetings to you all,

Well it's been almost a month since I've updated the "greetings" window on my website. So its time to go to work and get back to the real world.

Business is good. You may want to check out both the furnishings and paintings file on my site for items that have been sold. I often remind people that things come and go very quickly here. I've had lots of people take measurements and then wait to decide. A few days later they call back and I have to tell them that the items are sold! So if you really want something let us know!

It's been a tough month. Four weeks ago we endured continuous, severe 25 degrees below zero weather (that does not include the wind chill). Bad things come all at once it seems. We ran out of fuel oil, our pipes, five feet underground, froze, and we lost electricity due to heavy ice. What could we do? We took off for Florida and left the problems in the hands of our trusty caretaker! Once we were in Florida we had two good days of 70 degree calm. Then to our horror it dropped to eighteen degrees. Even the pelicans froze. So we took off for Nassau. It was only fifty degrees there. Our room, in a high-end resort, was unheated and the pools were cold. After two days we left for Key West. Fortunately it was in the seventies there and we relaxed for a bit under Banyan trees and clear skies.

While in Key West, I received a phone call from my brother. My mother, Elizabeth Ann, had been taken to the hospital in serious condition. I immediately flew to Indianapolis where I spent the next eight days with her. She passed away this past Saturday, the 8th of February. Her funeral was the following Monday. I feel fortunate that she is finally at rest. I also am incredibly lucky that I had the chance to say good-bye to her. I miss her dearly and want to pick up the phone call her and let her know how I am doing. She loved hearing of my adventures, travels and books. Any one who has ever gone through an experience of the loss of a loved one knows how humbling it can be. But the force of life drives us on.

And so it is now Sunday morning the 16th of February. It was minus 22 below zero last night. The pipes are still frozen in our house. Fortunately the drains in the Gallery are still operating and it's just a matter of a walk into the showroom for a shower!

Business continues to be good. We've taken on two large projects within the past few days and things continue to sell well here in my gallery. I'll have about ten more pieces of great rustic furniture posted on my site within the next few days so please check back with us. I'll also have more information on books shortly as well.

I'll be leaving for music camp at Jorma Kaukonen's Fur Peace Ranch in Ohio this Wednesday morning. There I'll play bass guitar for eighteen hours a day. The following week I'll be in Montana working on a new project and completing another book! Then it's back to Upstate New York and frozen water pipes! Life is good..it's also short. Enjoy it and the ones you love while you can. It'll be over before you know it. More later, Ralph

Friday, January 17, 2003

Greetings, I’m frequently asked about how I got started in the rustic furniture business. My addiction began in 1978. I was a doctoral student in Boston. My roommate at the time was in the antique business. One day he brought home a gorgeous six-foot, oval dining room table. It was signed Old Hickory Chair Company, Martinsville, Ind. That was it. I was hooked. I bought it from him for $280. A month later he bought it back from me for $400. It was the quickest $120 profit I ever made. As a poor student I was thrilled. From that time on I went to every flea market, yard sale, antique show and auction that my schedule allowed. I was hooked. I bought every piece of rustic furniture I could find. After I completed my studies I took a one semester teaching position at Purdue University in Indiana. On weekends I wandered the back roads and saw Old Hickory furniture all over the place. I became known as the crazy guy who bought all the weird furniture.

Eventually I had over seven hundred pieces of great rustic furniture stashed in a barn in Massachusetts. The only problem was that no one else wanted it and I was now broke. My wife at the time thought I was a nuts (there was probably some truth to her assumptions!) and she promptly divorced me. But I stuck with the rustic furniture business. I loved the old barns and the attics and the garages and the flea markets and the antique shows. It was the ultimate treasure hunt. No bosses. Work whenever you want. No dress codes. Just great art! The only problem was that no one else liked my stuff. Eventually, however, I began to sell a few pieces and realized that the serious collectors were in New York City.

So I set up at several of the folk art shows in Manhattan. Initially people thought my stuff was weird. I’m not kidding. But then some of the "heavy hitter" design people started to take my collections seriously and placed major orders. Soon I began to "sell out" at antique shows. Numerous "trendy" stores and restaurants both in this country and in Europe started using my rustic furniture and accessories as props. One company in Italy had me decorate their sixteen new stores in Bologna. I sent two forty foot containers containing hundreds of pairs of antique skis, snowshoes, camp signs, fishing creels, full size canoes, Adirondack pack baskets, and related accessories over to Italy. It was the single largest order I ever had! And I completely filled the order in three months.

Then magazines such as Country Living, Architectural Digest and numerous other publications took notice. I’ve been in Country Living Magazine three different times and loaned them rustic assessories numerous times. Eventually I appeared on TV programs all over the country. The ultimate was when the TODAY SHOW broadcast from my present gallery here in Lake George, NY. Eventually I went on to exhibit my personal collection of antique rustic furniture at museums in Boston, New York, Montreal and Indianapolis. To date I’ve written and photographed thirteen major books and have written dozens of articles. Further, I served as the senior design consultant for the Old Hickory Furniture in Shelbyville, Indiana for many years. I’ve lectured before major design conferences all over the country and acted as consultant on more design projects then I can remember.

Around ten years ago a number of other antique dealers thought I was "making millions" in the business and suddenly I had serious competition when it came to buying rustic stuff. The prices of antique pieces skyrocketed. Because of the newfound interest things also began to become scarce. So once I built my gallery in the Adirondacks of upstate New York I sought just the greatest (there weren’t many!) contemporary rustic furniture builders and offered new items along with antique pieces. Shortly I had more orders then I knew what to do with. Everyone wanted custom design stuff. So today although I still carry tons of antique rustic accessories, the majority of the furniture in my gallery is new.

Many people have mentioned to me that I started the rustic furniture movement. That is simply not true. I may have publicized it and put it in front of the right people but the truth is that rustic furniture is just great stuff. It’s a classic American folk art that was just under appreciated and significantly misunderstood. It deserves a significant place in the realm of art. It has its own identity and stands alone within the art world.

Don’t misunderstand me. Not all pieces of rustic furniture are objects of art. Much the same way that not all paintings belong in a museum. Much of rustic furniture, including both historical and contemporary efforts will fall by the way side because their creators failed to master their crafts. Nonetheless, several people around the country today have elevated their skills to that of the artistic. And the pieces that we sell in my gallery are expensive. But I believe that the high-end pieces that we carry here are still significantly underpriced when compared to other custom designed pieces on the market.

Many people fail to realize the enormous amount of time it takes to construct a good piece of furniture. The acquisition of materials during the cold, snowy months of winter is laborious. And the collecting of bark in the early summer is both hard work and dangerous. Once the material is kiln dried (at great expense) it’s then stashed until needed. Often hundreds of hours are spent constructing one single piece.

In truth rustic furniture has been with us a long time. The first piece was created when a Neanderthal character rolled a log in front of a fire and sat down. Soon we had Lazy-Boy recliners and today the tide has again returned to the honest endeavors of the folk artist.

Not surprisingly many of the pieces we build here are reflective of the age in which we live. It is not uncommon for us to build rustic entertainment centers, computer desks and modular living room sets. But the truth is we completely love what we do. I have mentioned many times that I literally retired twenty-six years ago. Nonetheless, running a small business is full of headaches. If it was easy every one would be doing it and every small business would be profitable. I really do have my fair share of headaches but I’m also having a great life. I rub shoulders with many of the most influential and wealthiest people in the world. I stay at many of the most extraordinary homes in the country and I deal with many of the great rustic artists in the land. This past year I went fly fishing just about every day for more then seven straight months. And I was able to bring my wife and daughter on many of the trips. Many lodges sent me plane tickets, provided a place to stay, meals, guides and anything else I needed. And all this will be mentioned in a new book called FLY FISHING THE GREAT WESTERN RIVERS that is due out this coming September.

All in all life is what you make of it. This is nothing new. If you want mediocrity then be mediocre. But if you want the full rewards that life can offer then do good work. Strive to achieve your own potential. Remember that art elevates ones life. It lets you feel good about yourself. Everytime I blink I’m five years older. Life is quick. Relax a bit. More later. Ralph.

P.S. Comments are always welcome.

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