John Patrick
LV Life Editor
When I heard that Lisa Marie, the half-famous ex-girlfriend of Tim Burton, was purging herself at a local rummage sale of old mementos from her life with the famous director, my interest was peaked.
I knew immediately that going to this sale would confirm one of two things: either Burton’s ex would be getting rid of useless old crap that nobody but Burton’s most diehard fan would want, or I was about to experience one of the oddest yard sales in history. As it turned out, a little of both was true.
I arrived in Azusa’s industrial district around 11 a.m. on March 11, the first day of the three-day sale. Keenly aware of the fact that any affordably priced, “truly amazing” finds would probably have been sold by then, I was operating on the assumption that the so-called good stuff would not be representative of the bulk of the items.
Plus the good stuff would be exactly what one would expect: excess memorabilia from “Beetlejuice,” “The Nightmare Before Christmas” and “Big Fish.” To find out that a famous director or his ex had mementos from an influential career would be like finding out that children like candy.
The line to enter the warehouse that cradled Marie and Burton’s old junk was not especially long. And though it was made up of everyone from freaks and geeks to the benignly curious, there was no doubt in my mind that had I driven out there around 5 a.m., I would have found an enclave of frantic fanatics camped out on the street just chomping at the bit to rub up against a pair of Burton’s old jockey shorts.
While standing in line, I could see people walk away from the event with their personal Tim Burton Treasures. One man walked away with two Styrofoam heads on which one would most likely store wigs. Another proudly marched away with a lamp that was made from a tacky black and gold statue of people fornicating. Others walked away with old mason jars and other assorted knick-knacks.
“I wish I had got here earlier,” said Marilynn Hendrie of El Monte, her voice betraying her disappointment. “I had hoped to find memorabilia. What I did find was personal items for a cheap price. There’s a lot of bargain basement stuff that you wouldn’t even want.”
Which was largely true. Upon entering the warehouse, after showing my identification and signing the guest list, I was greeted immediately by a large god-awful and cartoonish settee with dark velvet upholstery and white trim adorned with skulls. Complete with a picture of Lisa Marie sprawled across it while dressed as Vampira, the settee, which had been featured in the film “Ed Wood,” had set its sights high with a price of $20,000.
The few other unique items consisted of an antique drafting table, an art deco airplane sculpture and a keg that was shaped like a pumpkin. Those things aside, most of the wares consisted of uncomfortable looking new wave plastic furniture, a collection of gaudy light fixtures that must have at one point mercilessly permeated Burton’s home, designer clothes at designer prices, old worn down electronics, kitchen utensils, coffee makers, and a whole array of general bric-a-brac. To top this off, Marie was also selling a galaxy of half-used lipstick, perfume and crayons.
“It was the thrill of a lifetime, digging through Tim’s old tat,” said Danyda Feldman of Huntington Beach, sarcastically through her thick British accent.
“Everyone believes their possessions are worth more than they are,” added Arlen Feldman of Colorado Springs, Colo. “Apparently famous directors are no different.”
All in all, the only difference between this garage sale and the average person’s was price. There were some interesting finds, but most of it was useless crap.
John Patrick can be reached at jpatrick@ulv.edu.
