Loons

Once upon a time, I was part of a group of artsy-fartsy types trying to put together a major performing arts center in Salt Lake City. (I'm now a member of a new group trying to do the sam thing, but that's beside the point.) Back then, a prominent local developer told us that he could fully fund our project immediately, due to the investment of two wealthy angels who were building an even larger center near the same site.

Sound too good to be true? Yes it did, considering we were looking for about $50 million to get the thing going.

So we sat down at the meeting, and we met these two investors who are both 60+ year-old women who look like they've just walked out of an Amway convention. They're wearing way too much jewelry and make-up, and they're clearly trying to pretend they're bigger deals than they really are. Neither one of them can speak coherently - one finished every sentence with the word "eckcetera" (sp) - and another was missing two of her molars. They proceeded to tell us that they were going to buy 700 acres (!) of land and build - stuff.

Weird stuff.

Like a rotating restaurant in the shape of a baseball on top of a 200-foot tall baseball bat. Or a massive waterpark that leads people past the pyramids of Egypt. And a Western town where visitors could come pretend they're Jesse James. And a full service movie studio. And a "wellness center" that will feature new, anti-aging treatments and drugs. And, as an afterthought, our fun little $50 million performing arts complex.

Their proposed budget? 3.5 billion dollars. That's "billion" with a B. And, according to them, it was all their own money.

Where did this money come from, you may ask? Well, one woman claimed to have invented the disposable diaper. "But the idea was stolen and they had to settle with me out of court," she said, so that's why nobody knows she's the Queen of Pampers. The other woman said she owned a multi-million dollar bowling ball company that uses her own patented bowling ball design. (Near as I can tell, the design on bowling balls hasn't changed much in over a millenia. Three holes, one ball, ten pins. Am I missing something?)

One of them had created a bunch of goofy cartoon characters, the primary one of which is an extraterrestrial worm named Spacey. Thoughts of Languatron went through my mind as this woman detailed her extensive negotiations with Universal Studios, which desperately wanted to make a feature film about Spacey, but this lady "walked away from the table" because they were going to "compromise the integrity of the character," which looked like it had been traced from the back of a cereal box.

They've also invented golf clubs and traded international real estate and probably driven to the moon in a Mustang convertible. (OK, so I made the last one up. But given the circumstances, it's hard to tell.)

I probably would have left the meeting after about ten minutes if this developer guy hadn't been there. He was legit, and he was treating these loonbats as if they were legit, too. My question was: how do you live to be 60+ years old and say you have $3.5 billion on hand and still get any human being to take you seriously when its patently obvious you're a fraud?

Plus, if you've got that kind of money, why can't you get your teeth fixed?

Things continued for awhile, and there were a couple more meetings that I attended, until I got fed up and called the landowners that these people were supposedly negotiating with. They were very friendly, and they told me they'd met these loony ladies, and that they were wackjobs, and don't bother with them any more than is absolutely necessary. The head of the group I was with got really mad and kicked me out of his club, because I'd "upset the investors." So I moved on and never looked back. (Until now, of course, because it's a funny story.)

Of course, if anyone sees the rotating baseball restaurant somewhere, let me know. I'll bet they have good fries.