“While in Germany I decided to check out the Eyeball Museum. It is the best displayed and perhaps the largest collection of Residents garbage I have seen. Not that I have seen that much.” ~ Charles Bobuck
Found here are three floors of meticulously catalogued and displayed stuff that I thought I would never have to see again. I understand it is only part of the collection too. He doesn’t have enough room to display it all.
A few things were fakes, that is to say, not actual Residents items. With The Residents that is to be expected.
Eventually I was asked if I wanted to see the Charles Bobuck room. I was not so certain but agreed. We went to the bottom of the stairs where a small door was partially concealed. I was told it was a work in progress and not generally open to the public.
The room was small and mostly dark with items lit as you might expect in a museum. The first wall was mostly just a picture of me as a child of 6 or 7 siting at my piano. Next to the photograph was what appeared to be the piano. I was quickly informed this was a different piano, not the one in the photo but of the same year and model.
The next wall was a photograph I had never seen. It was of two teenagers who did look vaguely familiar. My host, Andreas, said it was from my first date. Apparently Merry, the pretty girl teenager had saved the photo in a scrapbook all these years. Next to the photo was a plastic case containing a brown blob. Supposedly the corsage I had given her. She had saved it too, pressed flat in her sentimental book. I looked closely at the photo and she was wearing a corsage but it did not look like this disturbing blob.
I knew immediately what was on the next wall. Wall 3 had blow-up stills from a JO film I had done in my early San Francisco hippie days. The box the film came in occupied a case next to them. I thought to myself that I was kinda hot.
As I turned to the final wall I was surprised that it was blank. He said that the exhibit was not complete so not yet installed. I asked what it would be. He said that he had made an arrangement with Roman to purchase my ashes and the urn would be the central attraction with an assortment of tasteful clippings of how I had succumbed to whatever I would succumb to.
Then I woke up. I had dreamed the whole thing. Well, not the whole thing. The Eyeball Museum is absolutely real and absolutely worth checking out.