you are sometimes immediately confronted with a statement. It’s the way it is.
Pretty cool.
Jul 222009
While commuting home, I plopped down. Immediately, I felt constrained–next to me, a massive person took up all of his seat, and one-third of my own. But that’s not the weirdest thing.
At least 350, I thought to myself. A standard lumberjack plaid shirt, and scraggly hair covered most of his face. He also had this cane. Not just any cane, I’ll have you know. It was supporting his massive arm, and it looked vaguely tribal doing it. Twin supports twisted around each other, bearing whatever weight he can drop on top. A notched pattern added a surface texture and a folk-art feel. Cast any spells with that staff? I thought to myself. I’m very brave with my internal dialogue..
His hair and frame reminded me of a golem from Judaica. This mental image was corroborated with his otherworldly cane. The pair together made for a tight squeeze (or tighter, really) on the train home.
But at least the commute was interesting.
Jul 162009
“What’s his story?” I asked D. while we waited for pizza during out lunch hour.
“Who?” D. asked.
“That guy. The old one,” I said. “In all white. He’s kind of like an aging unicorn, no?” The man (of a certain age) was dressed in white. White shirt. White pants. White belt. White shoes. I imagined that he had opened his closet, and thought, hey, it’s Tuesday. White Tuesday..
D. tilted his head to take a sidelong peek. “Not sure, but I’ll take a look when I can.”
“Look at his ring, when you do.”
His ring was one of the first eyecatching things I had noticed. While he was ahead of us in line, he had pushed his credit card forward on the counter, it kind of stood out on his ring finger. It was massive, extending from knuckle to knuckle in a swirling weave of gold, capped at both ends with a thin band. It effectively replaced a third of his finger.
“Ok, I’ll look. I did see his chain. Nice, right?”
It was hard to miss, when his disco shirt was unbuttoned to midchest. Flashes of John Basedow’s website, covers of romance novels, and now this guy. Moustachioed, euro-70s, and bald. I half expected strains of Disco Duck to play over the PA system. No such luck. He moved to the stool and burned the image of his fancy shoes in my brain. “Wow. Just wow.”
He had come into the pizza joint with two young girls. “His granddaughters, I presume,”
I murmured to D.
As they walked out, D. noted that the ring on his finger was on his right hand.
Ewww.
Jul 082009
I suppose if you are going to look like one of the Lost Boys, you might as well groom yourself..ish?
If you were a vampire, I would assume any hangnails would be taken care of in a supernatural way. But since I had no presence of mind to show the cross or the means to fashion a garlic necklace, I’ll have to assume that this guy was just… gross..
Jul 022009
Who says the French have the lock on joie de vivre? Go to Venice. Take in the Sweet Life on the Grand Canal. Have a carafe of table wine, and feel the wind in your hair
(or fur!).
Palazzo Ducale Complaint Box
St Mark's Basilica
The Symbol of St. Mark, the winged lion, and a Doge genuflecting. Lions are better with wings. This is at the Doge’s Palace.
A little Night Music..
Fade to black with the dueling orchestras, a glass of prosecco and take it all in, while you can. Saint Mark’s Square at night is magical. There is truly no other place like it.
