Day: April 13, 2018

When I drove by Outback Jacks’s mythic Main Street store of antiques and collectibles, I did a double take. I was alerted to the concrete frog sitting on his porch by Fate, who growled at it from the car. I called Jack on his cell phone and he picked up right away and i asked him where the frog came from, it felt familiar to me but I couldn’t instantly place it.

He said he wasn’t sure, he said he just picked it up over the weekend, and he thought it was a Disney figure from the 1960’s or later. I started negotiating with Jack for it – something inside of me said I had to have it in my office – and we settled on $150, plus the old table and marble slap it was standing on.

He said he would bring it at noon. Maria and I scrambled to find a space for the frog and I kept trying to figure out how I knew this very strange creature. I said I vaguely remembered a wise-ass talking frog on an infamous 1950’s children’s show called “Andy’s Gang.”

Maria remembered something about an impertinent frog from school, a friend of hers joked about it.

I loved the show for many reasons, one was that the frog, who appeared in a cloud of smoke when the host said “Plunk Your Magic Twanger,Froggy,” also had the habit of putting words in the mouths of pompous and imperious guest lecturers.

There he was on You Tube, in a rare clip of Andy’s Gang, the irreverent and throaty Froggy, driving his know it all guests crazy. I loved this creation when I first saw, but I must have four or five when I saw it, and when I watched the You Tube video, it came flooding back.

It seems a small miracle to me to have this piece of Americana and my own distant childhood come roaring back to – I will never forget that bow tie. I can’t even imagine who might have made a concrete sculpture of Froggy the Gremlin – above, one humiliated guest tried to shoot him – but I loved the character dearly.

He was my first exposure to satire and the idea of puncturing windbags and the pompous, an idea picked up and developed by my love for W.C. Field and the Marx Brothers a few years later. I don’t think Facebook and Twitter can touch it. There is no question Froggy had an influence of my writing and troubles with authority.

I remember thinking that people in power had to learn to laugh at themselves, and other people had to make a point out of keeping them humble, a major reason I  became a reporter.

Froggy has a permanent home in my study, in a corner where I can keep an eye on him. When I start to pontificate or get windy, he will poke and let all of the hot air out, as he did so brilliantly so many years ago.

I wouldn’t dare try to re-paint Froggy, he is sacred history. Jack thought I would put him outside, but he belongs near me and my work.

Twang  your magic Twanger, froggy.

And welcome home.

Marcel Proust wrote that we should be grateful  to the people who make us happy, they are the charming gardeners who make our soul blossom. I am grateful every morning for the presence of Maria in my life, she is a charming gardener. She brings her love and acceptance to people and to animals. Every morning, we take the animals out into a different pasture and stand and sit with them.

The donkeys insist on their time with Maria, and they need it. She talks to them in her way and I think of our life together, and how rich and full of nature and meaning it is. And I am always grateful.

A gardener once wrote that we can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorns have roses.

I was driving by Outback Jack’s on Main Street yesterday and Fate was in the car and she looked towards his porch and  growled. I turned to see what she was growling at and saw this quite unusual concrete frog, and I thought it needed to be in my office, it is quite unusual, and I have not seen one like it. It’s just strange enough to inspire me.

Jack and I began haggling yesterday, and the negotiations are going very well. Jack and I have been doing business for a long time, and we know one another. I normally never haggle, but with Jack it’s nothing but fun, good-natured and familiar.

Jack haggles in three steps. First, he says what he “put into it,” and then waits for the response. The suggestion is he’s bleeding to death to lower the price, but he’s willing to do it. We both know Jack builds “haggle” money into every transaction.

Haggling with Jack is a precious tradition in our town.

If I’m quiet, he will either go down a bit or hold his ground. He’ll tell the story of the piece, where it came from, who loved it, etc. if it looks like I’m walking away, he’ll suggest layaway or some monthly payment, or better yet, “just pay me when you can.” Jack knows me well enough to know i won’t buy it if I can’t afford it, I avoid monthly payments.

If it’s a precious piece, he won’t haggle much. He’ll wait for somebody with money to show up in the summer.

If it’s something damaged or worn, he usually will come down, especially if I do some moaning and groaning: I don’t really need it, Maria will be pissed if I buy it, where would I put it, I have enough junk,  etc.. Eventually he will say, “well, you’ve been a good customer for a long time,” and that signals the end of the negotiations, he’s winding down.

I’m inclined to haggle over this frog, it’s made of concrete, is heavy and quite worn. I don’t see it in the gardens of rich people, or in the studies of the literati.

I’ve been haggling with Jack for 15 years, and in all that time I only beat him once, with my Lou Jacobs wallboard poster from the Barnum and Bailey circus, I think he’d been  hanging in Jack’s for a long time, and uncharacteristically, Jack didn’t quite grasped how famous Jacobs was. Even then, I spent $400, which wasn’t exactly a steal. But I suspect it’s worth a good deal more.

Jack and I have always come to an agreement, and we both love the wheeling and dealing and posturing, it’s a  fading part of country life, and Jack is a good friend and honest and decent person. By lunchtime, that frog will be in my study.

We are still somewhere in between $100 an $150 (I think $150 is a good bet for the price, it started out much higher), I might also have to buy that pink stool and marble slap, I hope the frog can go next to my desk and in front of the window. I just fell in love with it, and I know that is  strange – I can’t claim to need a large concrete frog with a bow tie, but it is just the kind of folk art I love and that lifts me up.

With Jack, everybody wins. I get this quite eclectic frog, Jack gets to sell something nobody else would find or buy.

And i know I will never see another like it. Stay tuned, Jack’s coming at noon with a dolly. Maybe Maria will paint the frog one weekend.