Klingons!!! Part 1: Gorkon and his General

 NOTE: My wife broke her leg in October so I've been away for a while. But she's on the mend so I'm back. Thanks for reading.

Klingons are synonymous with Star Trek. They were Trek's original "interstellar badguys" and were first seen in the 1967 original series episode "Errand of Mercy". They didn't look much like the Klingons we've come to know, but their basic qualities were firmly established – they were a warlike race who advanced themselves by conquest, the antithesis to the peaceful Federation. The Klingons were greatly expanded upon and better defined in the movie era, and by Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country, we were given our first glimpse of Klingon society. Kirk, Spock and the crew of the Enterprise were thrown into an interstellar conspiracy that held the future of the Federation and Klingon Empire in its grasp. Star Trek VI was the last of the TOS movies and was a finale of sorts – a send-off of the original cast and a turning over of the reigns to The Next Generation. And it's one of my favorites.

Director Nick Meyers wanted to see a different side of the Klingons. Up to then, they were the one-note evil-doers and Meyers was determined to show them as more that just cardboard cutouts. To that end, his story featured the assassination of the Klingon head of state, Chancellor Gorkon and embroiled our Starfleet heroes in the turmoil of intrigue. For the first time, we saw the Klingons as a true race and society, not just a snarling antagonist needed to fill a plot line. Star Trek VI would cast the die for the portrayal of Klingons from then on.

At the center of the story was Chancellor Gorkon and his chief of staff, General Chang, as well as Gorkon's daughter, Azetbur, and several generals who rounded out the Klingon inner circle.

Gorkon, wonderfully played by actor David Warner, was presented as a peacemaker, a Klingon who was actually willing to make true peace with his long-time enemy, the Federation. I don't think that it's accidental that Gorkon has a passing resemblance to Abraham Lincoln. Warner played Gorkon with gravitas and dignity, becoming a true martyr for the cause of peace, not unlike the 16th President. Appropriately, his costume set a new style tone for Klingons. For Gorkon and Azetbur, gone were the all-gray warrior costumes that Klingons had been wearing since the first film. In their place were striking scarlet and gray ensembles – regal-looking garb befitting their high-placed station. Even the generals got a bit of an upgrade – still gray, but with all-new tailoring. Evidently, vinyl is highly prized on the Klingon homeworld, cuz these babies are full of it.

When a Gorkon costume came up for auction several years ago, I was determined to have it. Luckily, I was able to prevail, and my Gorkon is one of the highlights of my collection. I was recently able to add the costume of one of his aides – the one who who crudely stuffed his mouth at the state dinner. Both pieces are in excellent condition and feature internal costuming tags.

The Gorkon can be screen-matched to his death scene and features the "phaser hole" and small remnants of the pink Klingon "blood".

The Gorkon features a beautiful metal belt buckle, quilted details, the definitive horned Klingon boot, and chain-embedded shoulder piece. The costume is super-clean, displays beautifully and stands as a superlative example of the movie-era costume design.

Gorkon's General features quilted details, detailed pants, shoulder and waist chains and Klingon boots. Many of these gray Klingon uniforms were extensively reused over the years in the later Trek incarnations – Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, Voyager and Enterprise – but this one escaped that fate for some reason. It is as clean as the last day of shooting for Star Trek VI and stands as an excellent example of movie Klingon.

I'll be showing more Klingon pieces in the future. Thanks for reading. Qapla' !

LLAP

Don Hillenbrand

The Myth of Propworx

There used to be a prop and costume reseller called Propworx which was run by a guy named Alec Peters. Mr. Peters fancied himself to be quite the entrepreneur. He had only started collecting screen-used props and costumes in 2006 when Christie's had their big "40 Years of Star Trek" auction, but in 2009 he decided that he would show the world just how the prop business should be run by creating Propworx.

Fast forward to August of 2012 and Propworx files for bankruptcy. And not just any form of bankruptcy either. There was no "restructuring" to allow for repayment of debts or anything like that. Propworx underwent Chapter 7 – liquidation. How surprising then, that a mere two months later we are told that Propworx is back! Did they repay their creditors? No. They owed $401,466 to various creditors including MGM which was Propworx's customer for the Stargate auctions (MGM produced the various Stargate incarnations). And they didn't repay a cent. The bankruptcy court was under the impression that Propworx had no assets and so could not repay anything. The bankruptcy was settled on October 1.

So lots of people were surprised when, just one week later, Propworx was apparently selling props again. Here's what was sent around by Alec Peters to potential buyers:

"We have new BSG, Star Trek, Stargate, Iron Man and Hulk items up on eBay.

http://www.ebay.com/sch/linnear/m.html?item=120996676872&pt=LH_DefaultDomain_0&hash=item1c2bf6c508&rt=nc&_trksid=p2047675.l2562

Or check out seller name Linnear.

There are 50 items this week and we have at least two more weeks of auctions! We had a bunch of new consignments come in recently and are cleaning out some of my personal collection. Dean is now working part time with me to clear out the warehouse and get auction items up. He can be reached at dean@propworx.com.

Thanks for all your support!

Alec Peters"

So just a week previously, Propworx had no assets. Then, as if by magic, one week later they do. That's amazing.

But no more amazing than Propworx itself. Here's what Mr. Peters had to say when Propworx closed:

"While we have done some great work, and the Battlestar auctions remain the pinnacle of that type of studio event auction, it is time to move on. And I really have no interest in just buying or selling props like The Prop Store or Screen Used (who both do an awesome job) or doing eBay auctions like VIP (which also does good work and I have recommended to studios). Our specialty was always event auctions accompanied by the best auction catalogs ever."

Propworx auctions are the pinnacle? I bet MGM would disagree with that, as would all of Propworx's other creditors. And that's where the myth comes in.

Ask yourself this: how successful would you consider yourself to be if you had $400,000 of other people's money that you agreed to pay, then didn't? Is that ANYONE'S idea of success? Yes – Alec Peters'. In his posts about Propworx there were many boasts about how they redefined the business and had great catalogs and such. But there's not one single word about the $400,000 that he was able to magically make disappear via bankruptcy court. There were no apologies to the companies he victimized nor any concern whatsoever about how PW's bankruptcy would affect those creditors. If you bought something from Propworx and had a positive experience, that's great. But you should know that it was at someone else's expense. That Stargate prop you got? It might not have ever been paid for – your money may have gone straight into Alec's pocket.

Here's another post from Peters accepting accolades for his work:

"Thank you all for the kind words! Propworx was an auction house that we built and did the things that we as collectors wanted to see. Thus the awesome catalogs, the state of the art COA's, the holograms, etc. "

That, in a nutshell, was what was important to the PW experience: pretty catalogs and COAs with holograms. Not spending money responsibly and fulfilling their contractual obligations to customers like MGM. Nope. Their attitude appears to be "we owe MGM and other creditors hundreds of thousands of dollars? Who cares? We have catalogs and holograms."  All hat, no cattle.

Is that YOUR idea of success? Is that what entrepreneurialism is about? Not in my opinion.

And THAT is the myth of Propworx. I've been in business for 20 years and I can tell you that success claimed at the expense of others is not success at all. It's pillaging. It's recklessness. But it's not success.

Not in this writer's opinion, anyway.

LLAP

Don Hillenbrand

Hangin' with the Galileo Part 3: Mikey and me

This past summer when I had the amazing opportunity to see the Galileo shuttlecraft up close and personal, I was not alone. One of my oldest friends, Mike Myers, accompanied me. Mike and I go way back to our college days which means we've known each other for more than thirty years. And, while Mike is not a Star Trek collector like me, he is definitely a Star Trek FAN, just like me. We both got the bug when we watched the original broadcasts of The Original Series as kids (very young kids!). The first time I saw his room at home, his walls were covered with things like Mo Udall posters (look it up, youngsters) and (much to my delight) Star Trek posters! Point of interest: I think some were of the "black light" variety (look it up, youngsters). From that moment on, Star Trek would be one of our mutual passions. Mike and I and another friend went and saw Gene Roddenberry speak at the Richfield Coliseum during the summer of 1979 and he and two other friends (hey, Keith and John!) braved a snow storm in December of '79 to see the opening of Star Trek: The Motion Picture. Yeah, it wasn't great, but it was the only Trek in town! We saw it 2 more times that weekend, i think.

Over the years we wandered in and out of each others' lives, but we always stayed firm Trek fans. Our take on the various shows and movies are almost identical (love "Wrath of Khan" –  "Enterprise", not so much). So it was only fitting that when the Galileo's location became known and was put up for auction, we would both get to see her in all her world-weary glory.

As luck would have it, Mike and I have always lived within 20 minutes of the Galileo's various locations since it came to Ohio. Countless times, both of us passed by the boat storage facility in which it was finally stored, having no idea of the treasures held within. So when the auction was announced, Mike was the first person I called.

For some reason, it was difficult to get permission to see the Galileo. You would have thought that the seller would have welcomed potential buyers (and I certainly was one, if only in my head) but weeks went by after the auction was announced but no permission was forthcoming. Finally a call came from the auctioneers who were doing the sale – a showing was finally arranged for THAT DAY. I put aside whatever trivialities I had on my desk and called Mike to tell him of the news. He anxiously confirmed that he'd be there.

It was a very hot June afternoon (in the 90's!) in Ohio when I pulled into the boat storage facility. I got there before Mike (he is "time-challenged", ie: he'll be late to his own funeral) and found the auctioneer rep who then took me and the Galileo's owner over to the storage barn that held my quarry. Still no Mike, though. As I walked into the warehouse-sized structure, I was instantly in awe of what I saw. Yes, she had seen better days and she was currently stripped of her accoutrements (engines, doors, etc) but there she was – the Galileo that I had seen over and over in Trek reruns. The Galileo that I had built a model of in the 70's (I still have it though it's much the worse for wear – not unlike the actual Galileo, I guess). There she stood set off by herself in an open part of the building and I walked up to her literally in awe. I stood there for a few seconds taking it all in. "Holy crap". I thought – "it's actually the real deal! It's actually the Galileo!" I took a breath and moved closer.

And that's when her condition overwhelmed me – she looked like absolute crap. Yes, she was the Galileo of my dreams, but she was also forty-plus years removed from her glory and she showed it. Over the years I had read everything I could find about the Galileo. About how she had been unceremoniously stored outside in the California sun, seen time at an RV yard, and had been hauled across country to end up in my back yard. I had read about "restorations" and repaints, and of course I had seen the on-line shots of her that had shown her current dilapidated state. But pictures did not prepare me for what I saw in person.

If Galileo had ever been "restored" it showed no sign of it now. I had hoped that what I had seen in the photos was a Galileo that was being prepped for primer and so naturally would have a lot of surface stuff going on. But it could not have been farther from that. The exterior shell was covered in rough, weathered plywood and masonite as well as flaking fiberglass and red bondo. It was a mess, period. But it was still the Galileo, for better or for worse, so my emotions were stretched simultaneously between euphoria and despair.

I went to the door opening and peered inside the shabby ship. She didn't look much better on the inside, though it wasn't the total disaster of the outside. I tentatively climbed aboard to look around when I heard a familiar voice from outside – Mike had finally arrived. I poked my head out to greet him. :He had a huge smile on his face and simply said "This is amazing"!

And he was right. Whatever her condition, it was amazing that this piece of Star Trek history even existed at all, let alone in our neighborhood.

Mike and I then spent the next half hour or so crawling all over the old girl, looking into every nook and cranny, trying to understand how the door mechanism used to work (still haven't figured that out), checking out the roof (replaced), the impulse engine bay (empty), and every surface possible. We were like kids in a candy shop with the Galileo being the ultimate lollipop. We couldn't get enough! I took tons of pictures as we made our inspection, wanting to preserve the experience not just in memory but pixels as well. All too soon, our time was up. We couldn't come up with any more excuses to linger with Galileo any longer. Reluctantly, we thanked the owner and the auction rep and slowly walked away from a legend. I grabbed one last glance at the shabby hero and took one last photo as we reached the exit.

While I can share those photos with the world, the experience itself is more elusive. This is my attempt to share some small part of my adventure with my friend Mike on that excellent, hot afternoon in June. I wish all Trek fans could have the same, in-person experience. Mike and I will remember it for the rest of our lives.

Mikey got it right. It was amazing!

LLAP

Don

Hangin' With the Galileo Pt 2: What's new, what's not

Welcome back to the Galileo story. As told in an earlier Blog entry, I had the amazing opportunity to check out the ultimate Original Series Star Trek prop: the Galileo shuttlecraft. I inspected the old girl prior to her being auctioned off in July.

Since the Galileo had undergone two ill-fated restorations, there were many questions concerning what exactly was original and what was not. I’ve compiled a visual guide that will demonstrate exactly what’s what. Here’s an overview of the replaced areas:

All interior wood framework
Entire starboard side
Entire roof
Entire floor
Large chunk of port side

With that in mind, here’s some exterior shots showing what original masonite sheathing is still intact. Keep in mind that it’s in such lousy shape that I don’t know if it can be saved. But it is original, nonetheless.

Here’s shots of the interior with areas called out. The two different plywood tones are due to age between restorations:

Finally, here's a shot of the entire starboard interior, created from 2 shots. It shows the number of ribs and the way the steel frame carries the structure.

So that's it for now. Hope you enjoyed the tour!

See Part 3 HERE

LLAP

Don

Collecting 101: Setting the sale price or “You want HOW much?!?”

Let me begin this story by first saying that it is my firm belief that collectors have the right to get whatever amount they can for their property. Like any property, they can give it away or ask a million for it.

So with that said, let’s begin with a recent auction on Ebay. A seller has this listed:

ADMIRAL KIRK GREY COSTUME FROM THE MOTION PICTURE

This is a Class C uniform, one of the many, MANY uniform variants made for Star Trek: The Motion Picture. The seller shows the Western Costume labels and identifies this as coming from a “cutted” scene, which I can only assume means a cut or deleted scene. While this may be true, the seller gives no proof of this “cutted” scene and I’ve never seen a single image of Shatner wearing this thing. And it’s a good thing, because in my opinion this style was one of the sillier uniforms made for TMP. If the Class A (2-part) uniforms were pajamas, this style was “lounge wear”. Thankfully it is only seen on screen being worn by Sulu at the beginning of the film. I’ve also seen an unused version of this style that was made for McCoy.

So this is an unused piece. And here’s my definition of “unused” – if it’s not on-screen, it is therefore unused in the film. I don’t care about things made but never shown. I have no doubt that this is a real, made-for-Shatner costume. But this is a lesser style piece made for a lesser film (TMP usually comes in near the bottom on most Trek fans lists – including mine) and never actually made it into the movie.

So we have an unused piece in what I think is the least desirable style possible. In my opinion, the Shatner tags are the only thing that gives this piece ANY real value. Without them, this is worth a few hundred dollars, I think. With the tags, on a good day to the right collector, this might fetch $2-3,000, max, and I think I’m being kind.

But the seller wants $14,000!!  Actual, screen-used TMP Shatner pieces haven’t gone for anywhere near that amount, but this guy thinks he’s hit a gold mine for some reason. While anything is possible (there’s a sucker born every minute) I think 14 grand is not just pie-in-the-sky, but is literally one in a million. If I were a betting man, I’d give odds that this piece would never sell at this price, under any conditions. It’s a silly, uninformed number that the seller plastered on it to see if someone is dumb enough to go for. I don’t see it happening during the current geologic epoch.

There’s another piece on Ebay that falls into this same category. Someone has been trying to sell this for a looooong time:

1970s "Mr Spock" Ears Worn By Leonard Nimoy in the 1979 "Star Trek" The Movie

This seller wants $22,000!! Why is that unreasonable? Because there must have been DOZENS of these made for EVERY movie, which does not equate to being some ultra rare piece of Star Trek history. For the record, Nimoy-worn latex ears seldom fetch more than a few thousand dollars. They would be a nice addition to anyone’s Trek collection, IMO, but these are not so rare that they command 22 grand. No way, no how.

If these sellers want to actually sell these pieces, they need to first of all do a little research and understand just what it is they are selling. And secondly, they need to adjust their prices to reflect the real world. As it stands, these two are the very definition of “pie-in-the-sky” pricing and as such will never sell, in this writer’s opinion.

LLAP

Don Hillenbrand

ANNOUNCING: The Star Trek Prop Room – The new Board for collectors of Screen used props and costumes

If you’re a screen-used Star Trek collector, you’re invited to join a new online experience – The Star Trek Prop Room.

Here’s The Prop Room’s Mission Statement:

“The Prop Room is for passionate screen-used Star Trek collectors who value fun, ideas, and integrity. It’s a place for open exchange about our favorite hobby between like-minded collectors – whether just beginning or life-long enthusiasts. It is no one person’s property but is a product of its membership – always moving forward, always respectful, and always responsive – a true community.”

We want members who will actively participate, not lurkers. That said, participation can be at any level you are comfortable with. But the key idea here is “participate”.  Members have a lot of knowledge, a lot of insight and we help each other on a regular basis. Please note that there is no anonymity in The Prop Room – all member candidates must give their full name when contacting me.

If this sounds appealing to you, please drop me a line and join the fun. Every new member is a chance at making a better community for everyone. Consider joining us.

Contact me at neoworx2001@gmail.com

The Board can be found at:

startrekproproom.com

LLAP

Don

SyFy's "Collection Intervention" OR what my life could have been

Once upon a time, Star Trek was the hottest property in the universe. This was an ancient time called "the nineties" and it was the heyday of Star Trek collecting. All the cool toys that we always wanted were suddenly EVERYWHERE! Phasers and action figures and statues and key chains and plates and trading cards and costumes and model kits and videos and replicas and pewter stuff and infinitely more – and a crap-load of that stuff ended up in my house!

Flash-forward to now and the new SyFy show "Collection Intervention". This is a "reality" show which of course means there's a script but it's not done by actors. The show features two different stories in every episode. I've only seen one episode so far, but I think I get the drift.

Here's the deal – this is not a show I ever need to see again. It's predictable, plain and simple. Person has overwhelmingly large collection of "stuff" and is forced to come to terms with the fact that it's not normal/healthy to have such a deep connection to "stuff".

That said, I can TOTALLY RELATE to the poor schlubs that are featured. I used to be one of them. As I said earlier, my house (or at least my basement) was over-run with Star Trek stuff at one time. My particular fetish (like tens of thousands of other Trek fans) was the Playmates line of toys. When they hit the shelves they also hit my heart like a bolt out of the blue and from that time on, practically anything they released, I bought. And I LOVED it! Every incarnation of Star Trek was eventually covered which gave us hundreds of action figures and dozens of accessories and playsets. Fun in a box!

My wife, a long-suffering woman, would try not to acknowledge the generally rising tide of plastic that began as a trickle then became a steady stream, and eventually a deluge. She tried to accept my fetish (there's no other word for it) with humor and grace. She had no idea about the particulars – she never really cared all that much about Star Trek one way or the other. She couldn't relate to the idea that if one Picard in Starfleet uniform is good, FIVE must be better! Or TEN! Or...

In the late nineties, as Star Trek enthusiasm began to fade in the media, my collection was COLOSSAL. By that time I had picked up Star Trek items going back to the very first item ever licensed and produced – the original AMT model kit of the USS Enterprise, still mint in its original box (MIB for the initiated). I also had every Mego figure, Remco playset and Thermos lunchbox ever produced.

To paraphrase one of my favorite Trek episodes "It was glorious!"

Or so I thought. But then something happened. I have no idea what the moment of epiphany was, or even if there was one at all. But I remember looking over my multitude of plastic storage bins and finally asking myself The Question: "What the hell am I doing with all of this?"

I know that seems like a basic question but frankly, I had never really asked it before. I had set out to accumulate stuff for one basic reason – I wanted it. But why? It's not like I sat around playing with my treasures. Heaven forbid they should be removed from their perfect boxes! So what was the point?

And that in a nutshell is the question that "Collection Intervention" poses to their subjects. They want them to stop and ask themselves why they have 30,000 comic books when they couldn't possibly ever read them all again. What is their need to have box after box after box of Transformers?

The simple answer is the same for all of us: our collections fill a need. Maybe it stems from a childhood memory of using comic books to escape abusive parents, or a deep desire to connect with a simpler, more basic time of out lives. Who knows? It's different for everyone.

For me, Star Trek has always represented an amazing future. Not perfect, but incredible! A place where mankind has set aside the pettiness of dogmatic differences and says "we'll have no more of that". A place where the human race spans the stars and looks into every corner of creation. For a kid that grew up with the Space Race of the 60's, Boldly Go really sums it up nicely.

So how do thousands of pieces of painted plastic help to fulfill that longing to touch the future? In the same way we touch anything – we copy what we enjoy. We wear it, hold it, talk about it and hoard it. We fill our lives – and our basements – with it. All in hopes of touching the creator. Hey, that sounds familiar.

But when collecting becomes obsession, acquiring stuff becomes rote. We do it through muscle memory, because that's what we do, not because it gives us some deep, life-affirming enjoyment.And when I realized that's where I was, I stopped and thought. And thought. And thought. And I finally decided that this wasn't what I wanted to be defined by.

And then I began to sell off my collection practically overnight. I had multiple sets of things so it took years. You can't quickly get rid of stuff that you spent decades accumulating. And even after all this time, I'm still not totally done, though the little that remains are stragglers that I simply haven't cleared out yet.

Of course, I've replaced one form of collecting with another. Out is the memorabilia and in are props and costumes. But I can honestly say that I now collect in a fundamentally different way. I have to really want a piece – it has to match my focus and my passion. Anything that doesn't do that is not worth my time and money.

And I really, really enjoy my collection in a way I never used to by having pieces around me and on display. The days of hiding stuff in plastic bins are over, thankfully. And while I love every piece in my collection, I know that it in no way defines me. Like any collection, they're toys, they're fun and we love having them in our lives. But they don't love us back or actually give us anything that we don't imbue them with. Their power is all in our heads, and as such they need to be treated accordingly – as something we want, but can live just fine without.

Happy collecting.

LLAP

Don Hillenbrand