Throwback Monday!
Lest you think that my habit of mocking mass-produced picture frames was a one time thing, rest assured. I’ve got a million of these. Also, I apparently could put together a coffee table book with the number of tales concerning sprinkler incidents in my twenties.
***
I Scent A Trilogy
(originally posted July 10th, 2008)
Speaking of viciously earnest and poorly realized frames (and we were), this may be my new favorite. For now.
You guys, cell phone photography has come a long, long way.
As you can see (kinda), the photograph is of a sunset. And the caption? Three words shoved together, almost like a sentence. Family friends forever. Now don’t get me wrong. I love family, friends and eternity, but this seems to state that family friends ARE forever. Like your “Uncle Dennis” that knew your Dad in grade school? Uncle Denny FOREVER! Whoo hoo!
I would like to work for this company. Apparently you don’t need an exceptional grasp of sentence structure or spatial relations. Just take words you like and slap them on a frame in any ol’ order, with a photograph you also like- they don’t even need to be of jiving themes! I could so do this.
In other news, I saw a lawn sprinkler that was hidden behind an L-shaped bush and a sign marking a driveway near North and Clybourn today. It wouldn’t have been so bad if it had stayed in the general area of the lawn it was supposed to be watering, but instead it flew in an arc to the street. You know, over the sidewalk. SO. I saw a lady with a stroller get soaked full in the face when it made its return arc- don’t look at me like that, Mom, I didn’t lie in WAIT for her! I happened to discover it at the same time she did! Just…ten feet further back. The toddler laughed anyhow. It was totally cool.
But then…an iPod-bedecked businessman (Good name for a band. No, wait, that’s a terrible name for a band) turned the corner. I waved to him, so help me God I did, and that wave contained the knowledge of the impending gush of water and the embarrassment that would ensue if he went to work looking like he had peed his pants. Or had neck sweat. And what did he do? He waved back. And took it in the face.
“Thought you were waving hi,” he sputtered.
“Nope,” said I.
“That’s just what it looked like,” he said.
“Yeah,” I said. “But I wasn’t.”
“Hah, I know.”
“Hah.”
We laughed, but sadly, I laughed harder than I ought’ve.
I know.
Speak Your Mind