Tennis Anyone?

Two of the greatest tennis players in history wore this style. Maybe they'll say that about you and this pair one day. Yeah, they're a little dirty, but so was John McEnroe's mouth and he became champ.
(Update: Sold on ebay on 5-28-11 to the future Tennis Champion of the Entire World.)

Is It the Shoes?

I am a bicyclist. That is, I ride a bicycle. I am not a cyclist. Cyclists are people who take riding seriously. I've never heard anyone say proudly, "I'm a unicyclist, or a tricyclist, or a bicyclist". I only ride occasionally. I don't know how to repair, or even maintain my bicycle. I don't know street rules, etiquette, or even laws. I have visions of my front wheel coming off as I coast down a big hill. I'm apprehensive at sharp turns. I'm tempted to put baseball cards in my spokes. I used to use a bell, but gave it to my daughter. I have a blinking front headlight, a blinking rear light, and a mirror attached to my Walmart helmet. I want a basket, or side saddle bags, or a trailer, or would even consider a milk crate with bungee cords. I stupidly don't have bright colored spandex, but instead wear regular shorts and a tee shirt. And I wear tennis shoes. Not cycling shoes. Tennis shoes. I found a pair of vintage 1984 Detto Pietro black leather cycling shoes, and I so wanted to become a cyclist with those beauties. But that's like putting Larry the Cable Guy into a tutu and expecting him to show off some ballerina moves. Like Michael Jordan said to Mars Blackmon, "It's not the shoes."  (Update: Sold on ebay on 5-25-11...To a real cyclist)

Because Swimming Drunk Makes Sense

How did the Budweiser swimsuit in the 1980's became an iconic image, at least for me and every man my age? Maybe it wasn't drunk swimming now that I think about it. Maybe it was simply the idea of beer coupled with beautiful women in swimsuits that attracted male infatuation across the world. Frogs and Clydesdales and "Whassup" were fine and all in their moment of glory, but Bo Derek is to "10" what the Budweiser swimsuit is to Budweiser advertising. Women in Budweiser swimsuits continue to pop up in Anheuser Busch's advertising often--lizards do not. So when I was in a thrift shop and saw one of those rare diamonds on a rack, something in my brain clicked immediately, taking me back to about the age of 10 when I had visually experienced one for the first time. At $5 this one-piece was a steal, and even more exciting was the miniscule chance I could get my beautiful wife to wear it. I won't tell you what she said when I offered it to her on one knee with sparkles in my teary eyes. Unfortunately, the 10 year old boy in me will never get to live a real life moment with that suit, and maybe no man who's as old as me will. Maybe. Gentlemen, we can try. I must let it go on ebay. Maybe there's a miniscule chance for you too, but maybe that's all you need.
(Update: Suit sold on ebay on May 22nd, 2011. Good luck my friend!)

Site Unseen

In December of 2006 my wife, toddler daughter and I were traveling to my parent's home for Christmas vacation when I came up with the brilliant idea of starting a vintage clothing retail website. It is true that I had had an ongoing but to that point brief love affair with vintage clothing, but had never even searched for vintage clothing to buy online. How many vintage clothing sites could there be? I thought. I'm one of those people who, if I'm in love with something, or simply the idea of something, want to jump in head first and ask questions later. It happened when I got married at a young age and then subsequently had a lot to learn, it happened when I begged for a guitar and have barely picked it up since, it happens with hard liquor every blue moon, and it happened when I tried to convince my very smart and analytical wife to give me her blessing to start a website. I can assure you this was not easy, especially after literally having this epiphany in the car and barely thinking anything through. The one thing I did think through however, was the thing that was going to take us to the top. It was brilliant, I thought at the time. It was what I wanted as an online shopper. And if I wanted it, then everyone else would too! Everyone else would want free shipping. I could not bring myself to step back from this idea. I stayed up late that night with my brother David registering a domain name. All of the crazy, fantastic names we brainstormed were taken, and the company we signed up with gave other suggestions based on our ideas. It was late, we were exhausted, and hence was born the name funksauce. We said our clothing would be "funky" and "saucey" in an attempt to try to make us feel better about a computer coming up with the name that would bring us joy for the rest of our lives. A friend of Dave's named Josh spent a lot of his own time building our site, and never requested anything in return--and that is true friendship. In October of 2007 David and I officially launched funksauce.com. Over time I painfully realized that without a high Google ranking we would rarely get business. My wife did her darndest to put a site map together, but to no avail. I gave money to Google to advertise, and more business did come, sometimes, and at best it all ended up in a wash. Our site never made the Google ranks, and I stopped giving my money to them hoping that social network sites would be the answer. They weren't. We'd get a lucky order here and there, but when all fees were paid every month, all the state, county, and city taxes were paid every year, and the minimum of $4.95 was paid to ship every order, at the end of almost every day we had lost money. We had always felt it wasn't about making money necessarily, but was more about doing it as a hobby, and truly about getting others excited about reliving and reusing. But with that said we couldn't go on losing money. If it was to be successful it needed to be done full time, and neither of us could do that. So nearly three and a half years later, and to our defeat and disappointment, funksauce.com has been taken off line. But our excitement for vintage will live on at our teeny-tiny wedge-shaped booth at The Factory in Farmington, Missouri. For how long we don't know--it was two years in March. Most months we have a little spending money, but some months The Factory takes some of our money to spend. We thank all of our former website patrons, our ongoing booth patrons, and hope we find more of you to join our mini-movement in a rural area.