Time for the Washington State Spring Fair- AKA- it will forever be the PUYALLUP Fair to me. I don’t do the spring version, but know the layout of the grounds by heart come autumn. The floofiness of this bunny! Years back, I approached the row of Angora bunnies, and all that could be seen was fluff, pure, magical fluff poofing from each cage. As I made my way down the aisle, this little face managed to look back at me. Presumably. ♦
Al’s back in the best way! His parody Word Crimes buttons it up. And it’s a typographer’s dream as a friend calls it. Caught his show a few years ago at my favorite fair. Free! They needed to fill in the audience a bit with passersby so even my dad got in on a little Al. I believe he donned a weirdish hat or two? (Al did as well.) Yeah, that’s just weird, Al. ♦
I know that you know that we know that you, I … where was I?
There I was. Reflected in the stringly strung star strand at Deluxe Junk. Seattle’s Fremont neighborhood. A thirty-four year old antiques store set to close. The culprit, an unjust eviction notice.
And this is necessary because …
… things are just not fair sometimes. Glad to have made a last visit to this icon, at least. People were emotional in their reminiscing. Took a friend along whose parents are BIG antiquers. Spent some time chatting with them about their finds when they were out West for a visit recently, in fact.
What would it take?
More than a bouquet of old pencils. We each fell for a frivolous item that we didn’t end up leaving with. I didn’t need that mannequin head, anyway.
De Junk in the Trunk.
This car sits (sat) just outside Deluxe Junk. My friend says she can see me in a vehicle such as this. She knows what my ears like to hear.
“Hey, I’m not a nut, I’m a cashew.”
My dad’s latest claim. I often say, “Dad, you nutcake.” It’s replaced “squeirdo.”
This reminds me of my VW Beetles, years ago, before having sanded them down. Cancerous rust. ♦
• • • • • • •
The way I take this statement is to relate it to that of objectivity, that friend to devil’s advocate, in which one approaches matters openly with impartiality, the best bet to being just and fair in a world so often not. That said, one must do well to balance it all with the heart, or risk becoming dispassionate and indifferent. In standing open to everything, one chances standing for nothing, and one could argue that it’s better to stand for what may be wrong than for nothing. For, at least in standing for something wrong, one employs the act of caring and where one cares, correction can be applied and received, whereas with the indifference of remaining eternally open, well, who cares?
Humming! At its most wicked.
At least now we know what the tooth fairy does with all those baby teeth, huh?
I enjoy a good Vince(nt). Here it’s a twofer.