Museum curator brings back memories of 'A Christmas Story'

VALLEY CITY (AP) - Barnes County Historical Society Museum Curator Wes Anderson is a frugal North Dakota museum guy who knows better than to throw away anything, even half a mannequin.

"My parents went through the Depression," he explained, with tongue firmly in cheek. "They taught me the meaning of saving plastic legs."

The result of this conservation of resources is on display now in the museum's front window as a lamp, which, as any fan of "A Christmas Story" knows, was The Old Man's major award.

It's not just any lamp, but a leg lamp with fishnet stocking, stiletto heel, and garish lampshade. Movie fans remember it came in a box marked "Fragile," which prompted The Old Man (played by actor Darren McGavin) to remark, "Fra-jee-lay. Must be Italian."

It's prominently displayed in what could be Ralphie Parker's living room from the movie, complete with a Red Ryder BB Gun leaning against the sofa. The only thing missing is for the Christmas tree lights to be attached to an overloaded plug, all set to blow every fuse in the house.

Wes, a longtime fan of "A Christmas Story," admits to having seen the movie "way too many times."

He's also recruits mannequins, which he uses for museum displays. If he doesn't need them, he sends them to other local museums for their exhibits.

About six years ago, the half-mannequin arrived with some other complete dummies. In another life, it had been used to display nylon stockings. At first, Wes could see no real use for the legs. "It was a white elephant, if ever there was one," he said.

Method met madness when he took a good look at that truncated mannequin one day and noticed how well the light shown through the legs.

"That's when artistic inspiration hit," Wes joked. After mulling it over a little more, he amputated the legs - one straight, one bent - from the torso and set about collecting what he needed to replicate the lamp from the movie.

He went next door to the Nearly Nu Store and found a '70s vintage lamp and shade with black tassels, much like the one in the movie. "It was begging to be made into a lamp," he said. "Five dollars later, it was mine."

Since the leg lamp needed a shoe, he discreetly wrapped the severed limb in a black garbage bag and carted it to Bong's Bootery for a sizing. He logged onto eBay to find a shoe size 6½ to 7, and located a pair in New Jersey for 99 cents plus postage. They were white instead of black, but why quibble?

The shoes were from an interesting eBay source. By e-mail, Wes communicated with the owner of those four-inch high stilettos. "She was a 28-year-old stripper who was getting married, adopting a child, getting out of the biz, and selling off her stageware," he said.

He found the fishnet stockings on eBay, too, for 99 cents, from a company in Texas with a dubious name better left out of a small town newspaper. "I had an interesting exchange of e-mails with the owner," Wes said. "I told him in no way did I want to be on his mailing list. I also wrote back to the guy with the instruction not to put his return address on the package. I could never explain it to the mailman."

Wes started wiring the lamp, ran into complications, and handed it to his friend Chuck Bowen to finish it. "I gave him the other leg, shoe, and stocking, so he can make his own lamp," he said.

Jeff Bloom donated the 1930s furniture, and loaned the Red Ryder BB Gun, which is the toy Ralphie Parker is yearning and scheming for in the movie. "The display needs a person," Wes said.

He's thinking about using a child's mannequin with outstretched arms, swathed in coat, muffler, hat and mittens to represent Randy Parker, Ralphie's little brother.

The display is already highly identifiable, even without Randy. When he finished the display right after Thanksgiving, Wes stood outside to look at it. Some high school girls walked by. "I asked them, 'What do you think?"' Wes said.

"Oh, 'A Christmas Story!"' the students told him.

So there it is, the lamp leg: "The soft glow of electric sex radiating from the front window," that Jean Shepherd heralds in his matchless narration of a small 1983 movie that is now a cult holiday classic.