Fiberglass

Inside Westminster Abbey, eight 20-foot-tall live trees lined the center aisle during the wedding of Kate Middleton and Prince William. The trees transformed the space, doing what even the most elaborate floral arrangement could not — providing a natural, living sense of permanence and an air of drama. The move was unexpected, unpretentious and bold. A potted tree on your patio or deck can have the same effect. While not every tree is well-suited for a container, there are a surprising number of options, ranging from crape myrtles to hollies.

The first of the 51/2-foot-tall fiberglass chickens roosts in a vacant lot beside an Annapolis restaurant, a tire's skid marks stretched across its belly and a set of X's for eyes. Apparently, the owners joke, it had trouble crossing the road. The next chicken might be a robot, a spectacle of glitter, the canvas for an underwater mural or, perhaps, a mosaic of crabs and sailboats for a twist on the classic Annapolis images the statues were designed to avoid. "If it was a boat or a fish, I wouldn't be into doing it. But a chicken is funny," artist Casey Johnson said as he surveyed Chicken Little and contemplated his own design.

An Annapolis couple has lost a bid to keep the fiberglass columns on their early-20th-century home's porch in the city's Historic District, in a case that has pitted homeowners against historical preservationists over building standards in the area. The Court of Special Appeals ruled this week against Valerie and Bryan J. Miller, saying the Historic Preservation Commission was within in its authority to demand that the couple tear down the fiberglass columns that were installed without approval, and replace them with wood columns approved by the commission.

An Annapolis couple has lost a bid to keep the fiberglass columns on their early-20th-century home's porch in the city's Historic District, in a case that has pitted homeowners against historical preservationists over building standards in the area. The Court of Special Appeals ruled this week against Valerie and Bryan J. Miller, saying the Historic Preservation Commission was within in its authority to demand that the couple tear down the fiberglass columns that were installed without approval, and replace them with wood columns approved by the commission.

Real estate brokers often say that one of the most important features of a house is its curb appeal. And the most eye-catching aspect of a house, the brokers say, is usually the front door. Homeowners with even the most ordinary-looking houses can get a healthy infusion of curb appeal, the brokers say, by simply replacing a drab, nondescript entryway with a new low-maintenance, energy-efficient front door. "This is the first thing people really focus on when they approach your house," said Aris Crist, an architect in Greenwich, Conn.

ORANGE, Calif. -- Frustrated by the risks and costs of evading drug interdiction efforts, Colombian traffickers have developed a way to build plastic and fiberglass products out of cocaine, according to FBI officials who displayed a cocaine-infused dog kennel at a news conference yesterday.That kennel and two others were seized during a 16-month investigation, and two men were arrested in nearby Garden Grove, Calif., Monday night. Agents said that the arrests and seizures thwarted the operation -- the first of its kind ever uncovered by federal drug agents -- and investigators quickly dubbed it the "Cocaine-Canine Connection" and the "Dog-Do Case."

Netanyahu out, Barak in; Barak out, Sharon in; Sharon out ...? Now, George should renominate Roger Gregory, Andre Davis and Ronnie White. The first thing to do about mass transit is to restore the light rail service to as good as when it started. Cheer up. Downtown is going to get 200 giant fiberglass fish. XFL won't make it. Not phony enough.

LANDLOCKED Switzerland, the home of yodeling, cheese and watches, is not known for aquatic life. That's why artists there started erecting painted fiberglass cows in public places a few years back. They unleashed a worldwide craze. Chicago artists wanted to do cow sculptures, too. Cincinnati followed with pigs, Miami with flamingos, Boston with cod, Orlando with lizards. And so on, until 183 whimsical fish surfaced around Baltimore's downtown last spring. Those zany fantasy figures quickly captured the imagination of Baltimoreans.

RECENTLY I TOLD a social-worker friend about the time an army buddy ran me over with a tank. I was all smiles and giggles, but her face showed deep concern. ''And did you go into therapy after that?'' she asked. ''No,'' I said. ''He was just having fun.''My socially conscious friend, so concerned about everyone's self-esteem, failed to see the humor in having a 13-ton tank push me around, and I think her lack of a sense of humor shows what's wrong in America.On the day in question, Corporal Walstrom, my squad leader, and I had to transport a newly repaired M113 from Ft. Irwin's central motor pool to our battalion's motor pool.

Yacht companies do not live by boats alone -- especially during the off-season.Thus it is that the partners in J. Hamilton Yacht Co., when not creating flashy, racing sailboats or elegant motorboats, have found themselves fixing brass hinges on enameled jewelry boxes, patching up prosthetic ankles and waterproofing fiberglass church domes. Recently, they received an inquiry about flying saucers.The Annapolis company's occasional foray into quirkiness has a simple explanation, the owners say."

Ever since Elvis Presley's death 33 years ago, people have breathlessly reported Elvis sightings here, there and everywhere. On Tuesday morning, he was spotted again, hanging out in a cemetery with a pair of angels. As it turned out, it was a fiberglass Elvis, a 6-foot-tall statue that had gone missing a couple of weeks ago from the roof of a diner on Pulaski Highway in Baltimore County, much to the consternation of the restaurant's owners and regular customers. When found, the white-suited Elvis, his coiffure intact but his microphone gone, was propped between two angelic statues in the Gardens of Faith Cemetery, a few miles north of Rosedale's Happy Day Diner, whose roof he had graced for a decade.

Elvis has left the building. More specifically, a 7-foot-tall statue of the king appears to have been stolen from atop the Happy Day Diner in Rosedale, where he'd stood for nearly a decade. Customers alerted owners Maria and Dimitrios Pigiaditis to the missing statue Sunday morning, and they filed a report with Baltimore County police. Elvis was bolted to the roof, and the thieves apparently broke him off, leaving behind part of his feet. The couple reviewed surveillance tapes, which they have turned over to police, and saw a white van pull up overnight Wednesday, when they think the theft occurred.

An Annapolis couple who allowed fiberglass columns on the new porch of their 19th-century home in downtown Annapolis without receiving permission from the city's Historic Preservation Commission, have sued the panel, charging that its denial of their materials switch was unreasonably stringent. Valerie and Bryan J. Miller have asked Anne Arundel County Circuit Court to overturn the commission's decision and its order that the fiberglass columns be torn down and replaced with wood. The lawsuit, filed Feb. 20, has roiled the local historians and preservationists who passionately defend the building standards in downtown Annapolis' Historic District.

The debate over whether gasoline suppliers should replace MTBE with ethanol did not cause a lot of waves in the boating community, but the issue is affecting recreational vessels in ways that have not been widely appreciated, according to boating advocacy groups. Suppliers traditionally have added MTBE (methyl tertiary-butyl ether) to gasoline so it would burn more cleanly. But the additive has leaked into ground water supplies in Maryland and other states, raising health concerns. Many gasoline suppliers, under pressure from state legislatures and facing lawsuits (including one in Maryland)

Clinging to the sheer face of a wall more than 30 feet above ground, April Camlin craned her head toward the sky. With the cautious deliberation of a chess player, she stretched one hand upward, grasping at an outcropping no larger than a tennis ball. The move allowed her to shift her feet and with one final push, reach the top of the 34-foot wall. Camlin, 19, of Baltimore, was one of more than a dozen Towson University students suspended in midair on a recent afternoon at the school's hottest recreational attraction -- its two three-story climbing walls.

LANDLOCKED Switzerland, the home of yodeling, cheese and watches, is not known for aquatic life. That's why artists there started erecting painted fiberglass cows in public places a few years back. They unleashed a worldwide craze. Chicago artists wanted to do cow sculptures, too. Cincinnati followed with pigs, Miami with flamingos, Boston with cod, Orlando with lizards. And so on, until 183 whimsical fish surfaced around Baltimore's downtown last spring. Those zany fantasy figures quickly captured the imagination of Baltimoreans.

Three years is a long time to leave a boat high and dry. But until the other day, that is how long my 31-foot Westerly sailboat was out of the water. She rested on stilts, shrink-wrapped against the elements, in the long-term storage yard at Backyard Boats on the West River, south of Annapolis. She had been stripped of her sails, which were cleaned, carefully folded and safely stored in a drier place. Her interior was emptied to the bare fiberglass. All her lockers were opened to allow the circulation of as much air as could find its way in. The trusty green Volvo Penta 23-horsepower diesel engine that had taken me so often from her berth on the Rhode River to the wider waters of Chesapeake Bay was prepped for its long stillness with fresh oil and a new filter.

SEATTLE -- You settle into the race car, clutch the steering wheel and glance sideways at your seven competitors. Cameras capture your every expression. This is the big time. The Indy 500 -- or the closest you're ever going to get to it.It's time. The drivers gun their engines and take off, roaring down the track. You nail the curves perfectly, the tense lines of your face projected onto video screens overhead. No one can touch you. You cross the finish line in a blur, and the roving veejays descend upon you, asking how it feels.

Fabulous fish came flying through the doors of a midtown warehouse yesterday. Spangled fish, singing fish and fish bedecked in stars. A Formstone fish, a feathered fish and fat Elvis with a finful of peanut butter and banana sandwich. "That was his favorite [food]. You wouldn't want the King to go hungry, would you, hon?" said artist Barbara Cox, the creator of Elfish. This Elfish has an outrageous entourage of about a dozen flamboyant fish sculptures. They are new entries in Baltimore's latest extravaganza of whimsy, the "Fish Out of Water" project, which has commissioned area artists to decorate 130 6-foot-long fiberglass fish for public exhibition during the summer and fall.