By Wrapping Paper of St. Paul, Minnesota! Thanks, Tim!

Monday, August 11, 2008

Not the Brightest Bulb. . .

I found this lovely ceramic girl on the NeighborGoodies Table:

This graduation gift was likely meant for some daughter or granddaughter as she graduated from college--a token from a proud family for a job well done. After graduation, our hero--just as wide-eyed as her Hallmark purchased counterpart--packed up her worldly belongings and drove cross country to the Hollywood Hills to start Living the Dream!

As she unpacked, she immediately purged this useless item, which she clearly brought along only to avoid offending anyone by throwing it out locally. To her defense, what else are you supposed to do with an object like this once it is given? Display it with pride? Maybe... but for how long? How many people in their 30's or 40's still have a graduation reminders hanging around? Unless you're a doctor and your diploma is displayed in your office, the number is staggeringly low.

It seems like there's an entire industry out there which specializes in manufacturing things that no one anywhere could ever really need under any circumstances. Items such as ceramic graduates, things that say "Over The Hill," and, of course, anything made of wicker... like this bulbless lamp:

Nothing drives me quite as crazy as wicker. I never understood the appeal of it, but apparently someone, somewhere likes it, since it's been around since ancient Egypt. Maybe my intense dislike of it stems from when I was a child and my parents would make me go with them to "The Wicker Store." That's not its official name, but all they sold was wicker, and that's how my parents referred to it... And still do to this day. Apparently, their love affair with light-weight, uncomfortable furniture still hasn't waned 20 years later.

I remember being a little kid, sitting on the rough, woven furniture while my parents strolled the aisles of The Wicker Store Not only was I insanely bored, but I was also in severe pain as my 10 year old bony ass fell asleep while I whined, begged and pleaded for my parents to come to their senses and buy me some goddamned ice cream from the store across the street. By the time they were done, I could not feel lower body due to the Wicker Effect™, and I feared I would be crippled for life.

But people do love their wicker, as evidenced by the Wickerpedia: The Wicker Encyclopedia--a whole website dedicated to wicker and wicker culture. But apparently, college graduates are too smart for that. Or maybe her lamp was just broken. Lord knows they don't make wicker like they used to.

Oh wait. Yes they do.

1 comment:

Heather Leigh said...

Would that be Wicker Dynasty?