This is Michael Bonfante.  As you can see, his vision is not perfect.  He wears these glasses, we're not sure if he has an astigmatism or he's nearsighted or what exactly the deal is, but here he is, glasses and all.

In 1942, Michael Bonfante was born into money.  His father founded the highly successful Nob Hill Foods, and by the time Michael's father died in 1977 Michael inherited the greatest gift that a father can bestow on a son: a chain of nine profitable supermarkets.  The supermarket chain eventually expanded to 27 stores under Michael's control.

Providing quality canned foods at reasonable prices was not Michael's only passion -- he also loved the trees of Axel Erlandson.  Says Bonfante: "Well, Axel Erlandson started playing around with trees in about 1927. And he, through a process of grafting and pleaching as the basis that we can understand of how he did it, and a lot of secret techniques that he developed that he never shared with anybody to create the special trees. And he did that, and had many special designs."  Erlandson figured out how to mold and shape living trees into complex geometric forms.  After more than a few neighbors dropped by to see the funky flora, Erlandson made up a big sign saying "CIRCUS TREES" and began charging admission.

Perhaps it was the stress of maintaining a chain of supermarkets.  Perhaps it was a greater consciousness speaking to Michael through the environment.  Perhaps it was a contact high from the marijuana-smelling streets of San Francisco.  For whatever reason, in the early 1980's, like a nearsighted Buddha, Michael was enlightened:

"Well in the early '80s we got into the nursery business kind of as a fluke, but in the course of doing that I developed a real passion for trees. And as time passed the opportunity in '83 to acquire these trees came to light and we thought it would be a real tool for us to share our passion for trees and use this as a focal point because they had a tremendous amount of interest to the public."

It was at this time that Michael conceived his grand plan: "The vision is to share trees with young kids. That's what it's all about."

Your average grocery mogul might have created a foundation to maintain a tree-covered playground in the inner city.  But not Michael: he was far too smart for that.  In 1984, Michael purchased all the living Circus Trees, with the intention of creating a natural park in Gilroy.  But two problems prevented him from building the park of his dreams.  The first problem was that it took a lot of Michael's time to pay people to run Nob Hill Foods for him.  He didn't have the time he needed to focus on his Gilroy garden.

The second problem was trickier.  From a financial point of view, running a garden isn't very much like running a chain of supermarkets.  For one thing, you need mulch.  But more importantly, gardens aren't cool places for kids to hang these days.

Michael puzzled over this problem.  He wanted children to experience the rollicking joy of horticulture, but how to get them to come to a garden?

"Finally, we learned the only way a garden could be naturally beautiful and still economically viable," Michael says, "was to add rides."  But the devious purpose of his park, first and foremost, would really be the trees: "We don't ever want kids to think this is a museum or an arboretum, though," Michael says, "because those are the last two places they want to go."

In 1997, Michael sold his interest in Nob Hill Foods to a competitor and concentrated full-time on his theme park.  In pursuing his grand dream, he was tireless.  He carefully designed all the flowered landscapes, the detailed topiary, and the ample paid parking.  "Any rock you can't lift by yourself, I have to be there when you put it in place," Michael says. "And any tree you can't lift by yourself, I have to be there when you plant it."  Michael micromanaged his employees until they were ready to rip off his limbs and hang him from his precious damned Circus Trees.  Like a later-day John Muir, he persisted ceaselessly in creating his green land-o'-fun.

Since horticulture (and groceries) were his strengths, he focused his energy on the plants and left minor items such as ride design and sideshow entertainment to some consultants.  At heart, Michael really was a grocery store man, and developing "entertainment" personally interested him less than getting the dieffenbachia right.

Michael formed a non-profit corporation in order to run his theme park and get rid of his money more efficiently.  Nearly 20 years and thousands of pounds of chicken manure later, Bonfante Gardens opened to a special preview on June 15, 2001.  The theme park hopes to attract 750,000 visitors to start. But will trees sell? "We don't know," says Michael. "That's a loaded question. I'm sure that question was asked of Walt Disney in 1955. You saw what happened there."  And we all know exactly what happened: Walt Disney got trees to sell... and how!

The official park materials say that $100 million was spent to create Michael's horrifying vision of what family entertainment should be.  A park employee says the number was closer to $200 million.  While it's true that Bay Area children might be undereducated and undernourished, due to Michael's unceasing efforts our children finally have the chance (at $20 a pop) to experience trees in the context of a truly tasteless theme park.  We can look forward to the joyous joys of Bonfante Gardens for months to come.

In 1955, Walt Disney foisted a bunch of oaks on stupid city kids.  The rest is history.