Recently, I did Cape Coral down on the west coast of Florida.
At the show's end this young guy, who looked vaguely familiar, stopped at my booth. He looked at it real carefully. Eye-balled my 10-foot wide aluminum trusses.
He smiled. He said, "Wow! An original Newton's Port-o-Booth."
His father was Jim Newton who made these revolutionary canopies way back in 1985. This was in Ft. Myers.
Clyde Butcher, long off the circuit and well-known as the "Ansel Adams" of swamp photography in Florida, had first commissioned Jim to make him a custom canopy.
It was a free-standing unit. Eight metal panels linked together (mesh with white covers over them) all held together with four trusses that fit on top of the panels. Good zippered sides. A zipper on front and rear for additional canopy cover. Sturdy, able to withstand winds up to 40 mph.
I bought the third one in 1986. Best investment in art I ever made. Still got it.
Here is the story of how I came to get it.
It involves old KD canopies, a wee little woman and a vicious wind storm at an art show in Miami Beach.
Read on. It is a funny story.
EARLY CANOPIES
In the good old days (like the 1970's) everybody had their own homemade canopies. There were no commercial versions yet.
I came back, fresh from Hawaii in 1979, and started doing outdoor shows.
I had pegboard panels nailed together with 1x3s. Even had an orange tarp for the roof. Gave all my photos that sepia-toned look. Even the color ones.
I remember coming back from the Gainesville show in the spring of 1985. I was cruising home in my Datsun station wagon. My racks were fastened on my roof. Or so I thought.
I happened to look in my rear view mirror and noticed cars behind me were juking all over the interstate--trying to avoid my panels that had flown off the roof.
Naturally, they were smashed to smithereens. The panels, thank God! not the cars.
Well, being a smart guy I built some more of them--even used 1x4s this time--and stronger bungee cords.
This was the time of the KD canopy.
They were revolutionary for us. Instant shelters. Went up in a minute. Didn't cost a lot
and we looked like professionals.
Off course there was a major down side to them as we all quickly found out.
They did not fare well in high winds. Usually crunched up easily like a bunch of aluminum cockroaches.
Also, in heavy rains, they tended to collect tons of water. Bent the hell out of the canopy. But hey, you had plenty of fresh water for coffee.
Well, I bought one.
OK. OK. By now you are saying, "What the hell happened to the little old lady?"
Well. Now I will tell you.
Many, many moons ago, in the good old days, there used to be an art show held out on Miami Beach in early December. Right on the Intercoastal. Beautiful site. Small show.
People actually used to make money at it.
I know, that is a concept that will never catch on. But we liked it while we could.
So, this one weekend there, I am setup by this wee little lady who happened to be a sculptor. She also had a KD just like me. We were two peas in the pod.
Well, there was bad weather forecast for the show. Being dumb and optimistic, we figured,"Yeah, it will hit somewhere else rather than our show."
Well, it hit us big time, early Sunday morning.
Big rolling grey clouds. Buckets of rain. and winds that strained our KDs.
I was buckled down best I could. Like everybody else there, I was holding onto to my buckling walls with each wind- burst.
Faintly, I could hear a little voice crying out in the wind.
"Help me! Somebody help me!" It was my wee little neighbor.
All 95 pounds of her wee five-foot-three self were being lifted off the ground with each wind burst.
She was holding onto the cross bars for dear life. She was sometimes three-feet off the ground.
I had heard of the" Flying Nun", but never seen the "Flying Sculptor" until now.
I quickly got five of my cohorts to grab hold of each leg of her KD. We got her unclamped, pink in the lips, and shivering like a rabid Pomeranian. It wasn't pretty.
We peeled the roof off to reduce the lift. By then her canopy was trash. And mine was going next.
We all survived. Even made a paycheck.
The next week, I trekked down to Ft. Myers and bought my Newton.
When I first showed up at the Flint Art Fair, everybody said, "Cool, Nels. Where did you get that canopy?"
Next year there were 20 people with a Newton.
Well. That's my story and I am sticking to it.
BTW. My first art show, which was in Hawaii at Waimea Falls Park in 1975, I showed up and the guy said,"Here's your spot, put your booth here.":
"Booth."
I did not know you needed one.
Naturally, being Mothers of Invention, my surfer and Army buddies dragged a picnic table into the spot.
I got rocks from the stream. I set my matted and framed images on them.
We all set around the table and on the big Igloo. We drank Olys and Greenies, and smoked big hooters.
I met two beautiful women that day, and made $15 in sales.
I was juiced.
I said,"This is what I am going to do the rest of my life."
Nowadays, I don't do art shows by waterfalls in Hawaii. But I do make a living.
I miss those hooters and the Greenies. Those were the days.
Hope you enjoyed my tale. Nels Johnson.