Today is the 45th anniversary of Elvis' death. That means it's the 35th anniversary of my snow dome collection. My last article for Lake Magazine (in 2004, before I switched over to Shore Magazine) was about that colleciton. I'm reposting that piece here today...
It started out as a joke. My
buddies and I went to Graceland in 1987 for the tenth anniversary of Elvis’
death just because we wanted to witness the spectacle. Let me tell you; it was
memorable. We felt like we had inadvertently wandered into the capital city of
Tackyland for the coronation of the King. As we passed black velvet Elvis
portrait after black velvet Elvis portrait, a thought occurred to me. I wanted
to bring home the tackiest memento I could find as a tribute to this amazing
weekend.
When
I saw a shelf full of $3 Elvis snow domes at the gift shop across the street
from Graceland, I knew I had a winner. First of all, let’s face it, it was only
three dollars. Secondly, the whole idea of honoring Elvis with a plastic
water-and-fake-snow-filled dome seemed so profound. I had my own intellectual
interpretation; the snow falling on his former home represents the chill the
city of Memphis feels since he left us, and the snow falling on the Lisa Marie
airplane represents the white light that awaited him as he “flew” up to his
final destination.
That was the
interpretation I planned on using when people asked me why I proudly displayed
a Graceland snow dome in my home. I saw this plastic thing as nothing more than
a conversation piece. How was I to know that it would become so much more than
that? It was the beginning of a real problem; a sickness. From that moment on,
whenever I traveled anywhere, I instinctively looked for a snow dome to
commemorate my visit. I now own over a hundred snow domes from locations all
over the world, and while I still mock them and come up with ridiculous kitschy
reasons why a plastic water-and-fake-snow-filled dome is a perfect memento of a
visit, I have to admit that I’ve grown to love these things.
In fact, I now
effortlessly tick off my list of reasons to collect them.
ü Affordability:
The price is right. At most, a tourist snow dome will cost you five bucks.
You’ll be hard pressed to find a better value for your collecting dollar.
ü Convenience:
There isn’t an airport in the world that doesn’t sell them. Your friends won’t
even mind picking one up for you.
ü Fun:
Shake one and tell me it doesn’t bring a smile to your face. It’s fun for “kids”
of all ages.
ü Conversation: Since 1987 there hasn’t been a single visitor to my home that hasn’t asked me at least one question about my collection.
Frequently Asked Questions
What if you travel somewhere it never snows?
This was the first dilemma I faced when I began to expand my collection. I like to travel to warm destinations. Luckily, this is shockingly not a problem. Among the snow domes in my collection: Cayman Islands, Jamaica, Hawaii, Arizona, Acapulco, Cancun, Barbados, St. Kitts, Bermuda, and the Dominican Republic. To me, these are the crown jewels of my collection because the entire concept is so ridiculous.
What is your most prized snow dome?
My favorite has to be the Pope John Paul II snow dome. My brother picked it up for me when he visited the Vatican. Shake it and watch a submerged Pope get covered with snow inside a cheap plastic dome. It’s an obvious keepsake for Catholics.
Is this really a worldwide phenomenon?
I have snow domes from every continent on earth except Antarctica, the snowiest of the continents. In another ironic twist, the only location I have been completely unsuccessful finding one is China—where virtually all snow domes are made. Although I should note that I wasn’t the one who traveled to China; it was my sister-in-law. She might have just been too humiliated to purchase one. That happens occasionally.
Which one comes from the furthest location?
I
would have to get out my atlas to check the actual mileage, but I have snow
domes from Australia, New Zealand, Hong Kong and Tokyo.
What are your favorites from this country?
I personally cherish the snow domes from places that have no business producing snow domes. I have one from Iowa. It features cows. I have one from Harvard University. That just seems like an odd choice for Harvard, doesn’t it? I also like the snow domes that commemorate events. The one I bought in Richmond, Virginia commemorates the Civil War. The one I bought in Atlanta commemorates the 1996 Summer Olympics. Last but not least, I have a Las Vegas snow dome that doesn’t have any pizzazz at all. I just thought that was funny.
Do you have any local snow domes?
I have one from Chicago, one from Wrigley Field, one from Springfield, Illinois, one from Indiana, one from Detroit, two from Lake Geneva, and one from Wisconsin that is exactly the same as my Iowa snow dome. Apparently, they got a deal on the cow picture. Minnesota and Ohio, by the way, both feature the exact same duck.
Why don’t you have any fancy snow domes?
I know there are beautiful glass snow domes on the market, but those don’t really fit into my personal collection. I pride myself in the cheapness factor.
Do you have any cautionary tales?
Take it from a father of three boys; a child as young as two years of age can throw a snow dome up to fifteen feet. While a snow dome may cost only $5, it may cost a little more to go to Australia to buy it. And if you’re like me, and you have a three year old little darling who likes to watch a recently deceased Pope fly through the air, you may have to take drastic measures. My entire collection is currently in a box in the basement until the kids move out of the house.
That has a tendency to take the fun out of any collection.
