One of the many hats I wear is that of Mrs. Wild Bill Tick Tock. That's right. Bennie has been making clocks under the name of Wild Bill Tick Tock for better than ten years now, and we have shipped hundreds of them worldwide. Some of the more interesting places where they reside: a Tasmanian sheep farm, an auto dealership in Albuquerque, a headmistress's office in London, a New Jersey town hall, and finally, our living room. (It took "Bill" about five of those years to get around to making one for us!)
How'd he get the name? When Oakley, always an original soul, was 8, he walked through our bedroom mumbling to himself. What he said was "Wild Bill Tick Tock." Bennie was just starting to make the clocks then, and in a moment of marketing math, I put 2 and 2 together and asked Bennie what about donning the pseudonym Wild Bill Tick Tock? It stuck. Now it's amazing how many emails we get at the gallery addressed to "Bill."
The purple and black clock is called "Soul Train." It, like all of Wild Bill's clocks, has a top that lifts off to reveal the contents of your choosing. We keep those pesky Estimated Tax forms in ours, along with dental appointments, the occasional love letter, and utility bills. Wild Bill always tells people to hide their chocolate there. In our household, chocolate never seems to make it that far.
We recently shipped one of the "grandfather clocks," which are large enough to stand on the floor, to Australia. Diane, the buyer, is pictured above--she's the one holding onto "Grandfather Magic"--with her entourage, a group of family and friends who'd decided to rendezvous here in Santa Fe. Once her clock arrived in New South Wales, Diane emailed to tell us that "Grandfather Magic" is bringing her family and friends much joy, reminding them how good life is. They use the box as a repository of well-wishing messages to one another. And when we receive such messages from our clients, that's as good as it gets.