Poop Moose Has Bottomed Out!!!
theSam!! says:
I found this story online. And it's sad..
*lifts head and eats*
to see that a true Alaskan cultural icon like this has to FALL by the wayside.
And ann...
*lifts head and eats*
I see these items in stores all over the place too. We even got one.
But the niftiest thing was theCollapsible Alaskan Outhouse.
It was like,,, a puzzle. And you'd assemble it and stand it up.
Then an unsuspecting person (preferably someone that ISN'T Alaskan) comes along and see the cute curio and grabs the tiny Outhouse door to peek inside and......
*Crash!!*
...the whole set up collapses.
Anyway, on with theMoose story.
I mean...
*lifts head and eats*
at the height of this guys success.
which for a REAL Moose would be about 5.4feet considering that the...the..
you know..
Drops out the....
But to scale these items down to 1/11000th scale that means theDrop!! would only be 5" give or take a millimeter.
*awkward silence.....before lifting the head and eating some more*
I mean.. at the height of this guys success $$ just fell from theSky like......
well..
you know.
Anyway on with theCut&Paste story!!
+++++++++++
Poop moose has bottomed out
In the end, poop moose and other critters expel their last candies
By SARANA SCHELL
Anchorage Daily News
http://www.adn.com/
Published: March 6, 2006
Last Modified: March 6, 2006 at 08:08 PM
WASILLA -- The Poop Moose has pooped its last candy dropping.
The wooden moose that dispenses treats from its rear brought its inventor the Manufacturer of the Year award from the Made in Alaska program in 2000, but owner Darryl Fenton said he's done.
Sales dropped off after Poop Moose was confronted by a less expensive rival a few years ago. Made in China and sold in Alaska Fred Meyer and Wal-Mart stores, Mr. Moose is more approachable at $25, a quarter of the price of the original handmade Alaska version. A smaller Poop Moose sells for $70.
Fenton, 39, said with sales down, he can no longer afford employees to do the manufacturing in his Wasilla shop, and a health problem makes it dangerous for him to run power tools himself.
"It's very upsetting," said June Wilk, who owns All Alaskan Arts & Gifts in downtown Anchorage with her husband, Tom. "I wanted more to sell in here."
Wilk said she didn't think the Chinese-made version worked as well, after hearing from customers who wanted the original version regardless of the higher price. Fenton guarantees his handmade versions for life.
"I stuck with Darryl all the way," Wilk said. "It's very sad when you get someone and the work is done great, and then they're done. I hate that."
Fenton said he's looking for someone to buy and revitalize his Poop Moose. Sales were as high as $350,000 in the late 1990s, he said.
"Now it's pretty much zero."
Fenton invented the Poop Moose in 1995 and patented its dispensing device. Lift the head, and candy stored in a closed compartment in the moose's back is released from its rear.
About 100,000 dispensers have been sold, Fenton said, most made by Lower 48 manufacturers.
"I couldn't have made enough," Fenton said.
Twice he licensed the gizmo to other companies for manufacturing and sales.
First a Maine company took on the moose, promising rich royalties. Wealth never materialized, though up to last year checks were still arriving for anywhere between a few dollars and $75, Fenton said.
The second contract holder in Kodiak, Unique Concepts Inc., racked up the candy-dropping ungulate's highest sales, as much as $350,000 a year between 1996 and 1999, Fenton estimated.
In 1997, home shopping channel QVC featured the Poop Moose in a state special, then invited it back. Fenton's royalties were about $3 per moose, he said.
He kept making smaller batches by hand for sale at Anchorage's downtown Saturday Market, the state fair and holiday craft shows. Six people worked for him seasonally in the late 1990s, he said, and he sold up to 5,000 a year.
Fenton guesstimated that 27,000 came from his shop.
"I never kept track exactly," he said.
When sales were hopping, Unique Concepts requested more animals, and Fenton came up with a bear, horse, dog, bunny, alpaca, gator, longhorn, mule and buffalo.
A wooden Poop Menagerie stands in a glass case inside the Fenton home. Some of the animals are special editions, made of walnut or with inlaid eyes of ivory and ebony.
His living room manifests his love of woodworking and his offbeat sense of humor, from smoothly finished heart-shaped boxes with tiny compartments made to hold green M&Ms to the name of his friendly little pug-mutt dog: Stinker.
Above the case hang awards. Next to the Manufacturer of the Year award is a woodworking plaque for a grandfather clock Fenton made in 1984 as a junior in high school. A photo shows the 17-year-old next to a clock taller than himself.
After that year, Fenton said, he started taking medicine for clinical depression, medication that affected his muscles over time.
Shortly after getting married, he said, he started having neck spasms. "Fortunately, I got married before," Fenton said with a sideways smile.
His symptoms worsened over the past decade, he said, and employees took over cutting and grinding.
In a late-February interview he was somewhat wobbly as he walked; his head tipped as if he were looking under a parked car. He reached to lean on walls when he stood, and often rested his head on his hands when sitting at his desk.
"I figured it's better to stop now than after I cut my hand off," Fenton said of his decision to close his business. He made an appointment with the state Division of Vocational Rehabilitation to look for a job that he can do regardless of his disability.
And he wants to sell his Poop Moose business "to someone with a breath of fresh air," he said with a smile.
The deal with Unique Concepts melted down in a legal wrangle over royalty payments, and Fenton said he and other Poop Moose investors got the rights back in about 2000.
A third contractor, in Minnesota, took over the Web site, sales and promotion.
Sales began to wane in about 2004, Fenton said, about the time he first saw his moose's rival.
Fred Meyer began selling Mr. Moose two years ago, said spokeswoman Melinda Merrill. About a dozen of Fenton's last animals stood in plastic bags in his living room last week, ready to ship to Minnesota.
In his shop, maybe a dozen more waited to be assembled.
Outside was parked the Poop Moose van. A moose grins back over its shoulder, dispensing jellybeans.
Fenton said his son, Chase, is sorry to see the venture end.
"I used to pick him up at school in the Poop Moose van. He was always so proud," said Fenton, who no longer drives. "He's crazy about the Poop Moose. He doesn't want me to sell it. Some of his first words were Poop Moose."
Fenton said regardless of his son's enthusiasm, after making thousands of the same thing for 10 years, he's ready to do something different. Like his dad, Chase will have to adapt, taking the bitter with the sweet.
Like the Poop Moose van says, "Candy happens!"
++++++++++
*theSam!! agrees.
Yes it does!!!*
And don't forget to
*INHALES DEEPLY*
get some fresh air after reading this post!!
I found this story online. And it's sad..
*lifts head and eats*
to see that a true Alaskan cultural icon like this has to FALL by the wayside.
And ann...
*lifts head and eats*
I see these items in stores all over the place too. We even got one.
But the niftiest thing was theCollapsible Alaskan Outhouse.
It was like,,, a puzzle. And you'd assemble it and stand it up.
Then an unsuspecting person (preferably someone that ISN'T Alaskan) comes along and see the cute curio and grabs the tiny Outhouse door to peek inside and......
*Crash!!*
...the whole set up collapses.
Anyway, on with theMoose story.
I mean...
*lifts head and eats*
at the height of this guys success.
which for a REAL Moose would be about 5.4feet considering that the...the..
you know..
Drops out the....
But to scale these items down to 1/11000th scale that means theDrop!! would only be 5" give or take a millimeter.
*awkward silence.....before lifting the head and eating some more*
I mean.. at the height of this guys success $$ just fell from theSky like......
well..
you know.
Anyway on with theCut&Paste story!!
+++++++++++
Poop moose has bottomed out
In the end, poop moose and other critters expel their last candies
By SARANA SCHELL
Anchorage Daily News
http://www.adn.com/
Published: March 6, 2006
Last Modified: March 6, 2006 at 08:08 PM
WASILLA -- The Poop Moose has pooped its last candy dropping.
The wooden moose that dispenses treats from its rear brought its inventor the Manufacturer of the Year award from the Made in Alaska program in 2000, but owner Darryl Fenton said he's done.
Sales dropped off after Poop Moose was confronted by a less expensive rival a few years ago. Made in China and sold in Alaska Fred Meyer and Wal-Mart stores, Mr. Moose is more approachable at $25, a quarter of the price of the original handmade Alaska version. A smaller Poop Moose sells for $70.
Fenton, 39, said with sales down, he can no longer afford employees to do the manufacturing in his Wasilla shop, and a health problem makes it dangerous for him to run power tools himself.
"It's very upsetting," said June Wilk, who owns All Alaskan Arts & Gifts in downtown Anchorage with her husband, Tom. "I wanted more to sell in here."
Wilk said she didn't think the Chinese-made version worked as well, after hearing from customers who wanted the original version regardless of the higher price. Fenton guarantees his handmade versions for life.
"I stuck with Darryl all the way," Wilk said. "It's very sad when you get someone and the work is done great, and then they're done. I hate that."
Fenton said he's looking for someone to buy and revitalize his Poop Moose. Sales were as high as $350,000 in the late 1990s, he said.
"Now it's pretty much zero."
Fenton invented the Poop Moose in 1995 and patented its dispensing device. Lift the head, and candy stored in a closed compartment in the moose's back is released from its rear.
About 100,000 dispensers have been sold, Fenton said, most made by Lower 48 manufacturers.
"I couldn't have made enough," Fenton said.
Twice he licensed the gizmo to other companies for manufacturing and sales.
First a Maine company took on the moose, promising rich royalties. Wealth never materialized, though up to last year checks were still arriving for anywhere between a few dollars and $75, Fenton said.
The second contract holder in Kodiak, Unique Concepts Inc., racked up the candy-dropping ungulate's highest sales, as much as $350,000 a year between 1996 and 1999, Fenton estimated.
In 1997, home shopping channel QVC featured the Poop Moose in a state special, then invited it back. Fenton's royalties were about $3 per moose, he said.
He kept making smaller batches by hand for sale at Anchorage's downtown Saturday Market, the state fair and holiday craft shows. Six people worked for him seasonally in the late 1990s, he said, and he sold up to 5,000 a year.
Fenton guesstimated that 27,000 came from his shop.
"I never kept track exactly," he said.
When sales were hopping, Unique Concepts requested more animals, and Fenton came up with a bear, horse, dog, bunny, alpaca, gator, longhorn, mule and buffalo.
A wooden Poop Menagerie stands in a glass case inside the Fenton home. Some of the animals are special editions, made of walnut or with inlaid eyes of ivory and ebony.
His living room manifests his love of woodworking and his offbeat sense of humor, from smoothly finished heart-shaped boxes with tiny compartments made to hold green M&Ms to the name of his friendly little pug-mutt dog: Stinker.
Above the case hang awards. Next to the Manufacturer of the Year award is a woodworking plaque for a grandfather clock Fenton made in 1984 as a junior in high school. A photo shows the 17-year-old next to a clock taller than himself.
After that year, Fenton said, he started taking medicine for clinical depression, medication that affected his muscles over time.
Shortly after getting married, he said, he started having neck spasms. "Fortunately, I got married before," Fenton said with a sideways smile.
His symptoms worsened over the past decade, he said, and employees took over cutting and grinding.
In a late-February interview he was somewhat wobbly as he walked; his head tipped as if he were looking under a parked car. He reached to lean on walls when he stood, and often rested his head on his hands when sitting at his desk.
"I figured it's better to stop now than after I cut my hand off," Fenton said of his decision to close his business. He made an appointment with the state Division of Vocational Rehabilitation to look for a job that he can do regardless of his disability.
And he wants to sell his Poop Moose business "to someone with a breath of fresh air," he said with a smile.
The deal with Unique Concepts melted down in a legal wrangle over royalty payments, and Fenton said he and other Poop Moose investors got the rights back in about 2000.
A third contractor, in Minnesota, took over the Web site, sales and promotion.
Sales began to wane in about 2004, Fenton said, about the time he first saw his moose's rival.
Fred Meyer began selling Mr. Moose two years ago, said spokeswoman Melinda Merrill. About a dozen of Fenton's last animals stood in plastic bags in his living room last week, ready to ship to Minnesota.
In his shop, maybe a dozen more waited to be assembled.
Outside was parked the Poop Moose van. A moose grins back over its shoulder, dispensing jellybeans.
Fenton said his son, Chase, is sorry to see the venture end.
"I used to pick him up at school in the Poop Moose van. He was always so proud," said Fenton, who no longer drives. "He's crazy about the Poop Moose. He doesn't want me to sell it. Some of his first words were Poop Moose."
Fenton said regardless of his son's enthusiasm, after making thousands of the same thing for 10 years, he's ready to do something different. Like his dad, Chase will have to adapt, taking the bitter with the sweet.
Like the Poop Moose van says, "Candy happens!"
++++++++++
*theSam!! agrees.
Yes it does!!!*
And don't forget to
*INHALES DEEPLY*
get some fresh air after reading this post!!
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