My wife's mother is a musician. You keep putting up all the gospel album covers, and I keep seeing people that look like her in the one she did in the '70's, but G** forbid I put hers on here, I'd wake up naked in a trailer by the river in Waco, that side of the family still has the Spanish Inquisition in their DNA even though they were Eastern European Jews before they came to this country.
Anyway, she can pick up an instrument, and within a few days, play it, as could our son, Patrick, but he didn't want anybody to know it, until one day when he was in high school, and we went to watch his high school band in a marching competition, and he wasn't playing the trombone we bought him, but a trumpet. WTF?
So once when we were at my in-law's house, early in our marriage, my wife's mom comes out of some back room carrying a big accordion, and plays "Sheherazade." I was the only one in the room slack-jawed, because this was apparently the kind of thing she always did as my wife grew up. A violin, a guitar, french horn, whatever. I never saw that accordion again. Of course, she's crazier than a pet racoon, but I'll have to wait until she's dead to tell those stories.
Love this Windup, can you imagine how hot the poor kid got posing?
There are those a little twisted that might want to pitch a miniature Hindenburg tent. God knows as many times as I've gone down in flames in bed it would signify just another camping trip for me.
So now that we've broken the chains of just having car tents, the possibilities really are endless, I'm thinking of all the shapes hot air balloons take, only one pitches these, and camps in them! Guitars, pianos, what looks like two wooden chairs turned over with a blanket over them (like we did when we were kids) but is really just a tent shaped like that, they're endless I tell ya. A typewriter, a sailing ship, a lawnmower, a sleeper sofa. Then we could move on to busts, or head statues. Of famous people, or ourselves. Churchill, Julia Childs, or Captain Kangaroo. Hmmm. This is going somewhere now. An Iron Lung. Shirlie something about your posts make my mind start to whirrrrr. Cheers!
OMG OMG OMG OMG!!!!
I AM BLOWING THE MERCURY OFF OF MY Sphygmomanometer. Okay can you tell I had to copy and paste that word?
Anyway I love this thing, and just had such a brain storm that I'm kvetching, swooning, pooping my pants, and doing all (seriously Shirlie no shit) doing all the things so many people say here about things they love because guess what we could do here in the states with this idea:
Smart Car: Just big enough for two to sleep. I may not be talking people her folks.
Mini: Two and a Golden Retriever
Prius: Two and a Vegan weekend feast
Subaru Wagon: Anyone from Colorado
Volvo wagon: Two middle aged people from Boulder and two very large dogs.
1960's Chevy pickup: Two cowboys without a gunrack.
Checker: What happens in the Checker stays in the Checker, hey, it's a cab.
Land Rover: People with their mechanic and plastic surgeon on speed dial.
Winnebago: Mortie the Mobil Bar Mitzvah Clown.
Greyhound Bus: Kitschy Weddings at Truck Stops.
Fried Chicken was the one, and I could be persuaded to do roast turkey in a pinch, but it had to be swanson's.
People where I lived were pretty poor in Nebraska even in the late 50's. And they hadn't forgotten the depression. They would wash the aluminum dishes after they ate the meal and have stacks of them in case they might be able to repurpose them someday as tool shed siding or maybe organizers for desk drawers in case they ever got a desk. I think for awhile Mom might've had one on her sewing table with things in each of the compartments, but there were still probably 30 in the cupboard unused. Then we thought why don't we use them for picnics? But without a table they proved to flimsy, and the pprk n beans spilled on the blanket. Of course this was just me and my buddies in the back yard, but nevertheless, enough proof for me that saving the was stupid. Now aluminum pie plates, that was a different story. They could be used to secretly give milk to stray cats. Frisbees. Almost endless possibilities. So I still save them.
I love this Maggiedoodle.
I just keep wondering if I would go to hell if I tried to get a better price on the Christmas Tree Jesus. Was that life sized?
$895 is a little steep if he's not at least 6 ft.
I really would've loved to have been with you that day.
And, someone could start a mobile pottery business.
Throwing pots on the spot.
Make a vase in your face.
Clay Nation? Okay I'm done.
Allee, that is exactly right for me too. I have to brace myself, and be in the right frame of mind. Mostly I bring it out now just to piss Cyndi off.
And Maggie, thank you, I wouldn't want to be called anything less than half baked by any other respectable aKitschionado!
I would love to have one of these. But truly that is the case with almost all cars. I just helped my 94 year old Dad move into a senior independent living apartment here in Denver after living 500 miles away and he gave me his Dodge Neon. I drove it to the car wash and thought "oh I like this car." Surprise.
I would love to be there.
Need to figure out some logistics this weekend.
It also will be the anniversary of the launch party of THE AWMOK, no?
Allee you are awesome. Thanks, and as usual, you made my day brighter with this generous gesture.
And yet, how many people do we know that live on a corner of High and High?
I didn't tell Patrick I was posting this. He told me the other day he'd received an email about Badeyah Baby coming up. His experience at the El Portal was so over the top fantastic, he still doesn't know exactly what to think of it all. But I do. It was an experience that I wanted him to have, come hell or high water. And not unlike any experience I've had knowing you, it was unforgettable, and enriching on many levels. XX
The thing I love about the styling of the Darrin is that it is so elegant, unique, and at the same time not mawkish or too pretty. It embodies in my mind a global vision the stylists had that seems not imprisoned by commercialization but more inspiration.
Sadly that was probably allowed as the result of desperation on the part of senior management that saw the handwriting on the wall as this manufacturer's sales eroded to the point of extinction.
Love it love it love it. Chokes me up a little. Those pocket doors are Confetti Angel food cake on a Windup rotating stand frosted with Grandma's special frosting. Nothing like it, and unforgettable.
Thanks Allee! How cool are those headlights.
I can't remember what year it was now. Maybe a '71? Looks like it could be anywhere from a '71 to a '73.
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