Currens likes to tell the story of the time his neighbors went away on vacation. While they were gone, he decorated his home for Christmas. The neighbors didn't know he had done that until they returned home.
"They came around the curve and thought there was a huge fire," Currens said, grinning broadly. "It was red, it was glowing. They just about had a heart attack. Then they realized (that) this is what they'd heard about.
 John Curren, above, guesses he has about 600 pink flamingoes outside his home at Christmastime. |
A congenial man chomping on a cigar, the 56-year-old Currens glows himself with a quiet sort of pride when he talks about his passion for decorating his house.
The cornerstone of his decorations? Flamingoes. Hundreds of them. And that's only on the outside.
They stand throughout the year, peeking from the thick green foliage up the hills around his house and along his 300-foot driveway, or flocked on his lawn.
And come Christmastime, after about three weeks of setting up, house and grounds come vividly to life.
"I can hardly move for a while," after setting it all up, Currens said.
Christmas is when the flamingoes are complemented with strands of rope lights sparkling red, cheery plastic Santas, rich poinsettias and hundreds of tall candy canes. Setting them off is a textured backdrop of spider plants, from which flamingoes and Santas peek as they cascade like waterfalls down the shingled house, and line the drive.
At night, when the whole thing sets the trees ablaze with a dazzling red glow, cars passing on Pescadero Road stop, kids shout greetings and locals flock to see a beloved hometown spectacle.
"This makes me feel good," Currens said. "I get a lot of pleasure" out of it.
He estimates that there are about 300 flamingoes along his driveway and down the hills in front of the house, and another 300 on paths leading from the house to the back lawn, and on the lawn itself. They are mostly plastic, ranging from several inches to a couple of feet tall. And they all have characters, Currens says, and names.
What's that one's name, a visitor asks, pointing randomly.
"Sam," he says, without missing a beat.
Some of the flamingoes are naughty, he says, because they get rambunctious and pick on other flamingoes. Others are hard at work, like the eight-flamingo team hitched to a sleigh with Santa in it. The team is led by Randolph, the red flamingo.
Out back, there's a blue flamingo Currens nicknamed the "blue flamingo of happiness."
In a corner are four gold flamingoes, which Currens calls "Mr. and Mrs. Bush and their twin daughters. "
"I have to add a little humor, or people will think I'm just nuts," he said with a grin.
He calmly accepts those who do. His niece calls him "Uncle Weirdo," but she still made a pretty painting of flamingoes for him.
His girlfriend, Marie, calls him unique. He prefers that title and uses it frequently.
"I'm unique," he insists playfully. "I'm not weird. I'm unique."
His house has been featured on the Discovery Channel's "Weird Homes and Their Owners." "It should be 'Unique Homes,'" he said. "I'm not weird."
Some might make the argument that Currens has a tacky taste. But nevertheless, his Pescadero and Loma Mar neighbors, and others that he hasn't even met, appreciate his uniqueness.
"There's a constant barrage of people stopping," he said. "Most people love it. Old ladies love it. They like to look at it, think about it."
He's seen school buses pull up with flash bulbs popping inside.
"Kids yell and wave and say hi," he said.
Almost shyly, he shrugs off how it all started.
"Everyone should collect something, and I ended up with this," he said amiably.
A native of Indiana, Currens lived on Skyline Boulevard for 20 years, where he set out "a few" flamingo decorations. Thirteen years ago, driving through Pescadero, he spotted this house, fell in love with it and "ended up buying it."
The house is where he spends most of his time, working from home in data processing and business consulting.
It's a cozy mountain house, with at least three rooms dominated by flamingoes. The bathrooms are full of flamingo decorations, towels, toothbrushes and more. The bed in the guest room is piled with stuffed flamingoes, some in vivid electric pink.
And the kitchen isn't flamingo-free either. Currens is holding off collecting an entire flamingo table service.
"If I wanted, I could do a large dinner, all with flamingoes," he said.
But plentiful downstairs space is dedicated to the bird that Currens insists he likes even better: eagles. Decorative eagle plates, carved eagles and eagle heads, and other eagle memorabilia dot downstairs walls and shelves.
But what you see are the flamingoes.
Over the years, Currens' flamingo collecting took on a life of its own. He bought many of the birds, from all kinds of stores.
"I don't want to think of the money I've invested," he said, rolling his eyes.
Others add to the collection too, increasing the flock with holiday gifts. And people keep dropping off more flamingoes for his collection.
He tells the story of seeing a car pull away from his driveway and running down to find a pair of flamingoes, more than two feet tall, decoratively painted and sporting a note. It said that they had traveled around the world since being "kidnapped," but had now come home.
"This is one of those things that has grown beyond my expectations," he said. "People just keep giving them to me, more and more."
Is there anything specific he'd like to add?
He grows thoughtful, then replies that he thinks it might be neat to have a hologram that would give the image of hundred of flamingoes taking flight through the trees over his house.
But he won't pursue that. "I figure it would cause some wrecks" (on Pescadero Road,)" he said wistfully. "But it would be neat."
Barring that, he thinks it might be fun to have a big snow machine.
"That would be neat, with all these flamingoes and red lights," he said.
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