The James Brown Auction

Christie's auction house is selling off part of James Brown's estate this week, so there's a few roomfuls of his stuff on display at their Rockefeller Center digs. Being a huge JB fan, I had to pay my respects.

There's something weird about going to a place that sold a Monet for 86 million dollars last month and seeing the words to "Sex Machine" painted on the wall.



His furniture tended toward the shiny.



Here's a nice still life.



There were three display cases holding correspondence. James dumped a lot of women via the U. S. Postal Service.



He had a lot of clothes. I don't blame him one bit. Sometimes an ochre checked bolero waistcoat won't capture your mood like a pumpkin-colored one will.



Who wants to settle for a forest-green jumpsuit with scoop neckline and SEX rhinestone detail when you really feel like apricot today?



I begged an employee to let me try on a floor-length mink valued at eighty thousand dollars.



"I won't do the splits," I swore. "I won't squeal, then spin on my heels and collapse on the ground in an attack of sheer funkiness."

In the end she turned out to be a real bitch. I hope I get a judge who understands the legal omnipotence of fingers crossed.