No, the title of this post is not the dimensions of someone’s inverted pyramid-shaped figure. I’m drawn to write a blog post incorporating the three recent prompts—-OLWG #34, Cubing Stories #14 and Objects in a Box #4—-as if a giant cartoon magnet is pulling me to it. Remember those? In all those Looney Tunes cartoons with Wile E. Coyote? The ACME Company sure had a monopoly on gadgets and such in those cartoons, didn’t they?
Come to think of it, when was the last time you saw an old horseshoe-type magnet, or played a game of Monopoly? I’m afraid they’ve gone the way of other throwbacks, like cathode ray tubes, metal ice trays, and banana seat bicycles. What was the purpose of a horseshoe shaped magnet, anyway?
Oh, I shouldn’t go any farther down memory lane. I mean, it’s a long way down a bottomless pit of never-ending nostalgia. Take my decorative box collection, for example. I acquired most of it as a child, and I can tell you how and where I obtained each box. The wood inlay one was a gift from an aunt, and the cream colored Lenox china one with the gilded leaf handle used to sit on the coffee table in my parent’s living room, next to a cut crystal ashtray. I used to love opening it to see the cigarettes neatly stacked side-by-side. Talk about your throwbacks to a long-gone era.
I didn’t put it together until well into my adulthood that, as a child, I was enthralled with anything miniaturized. Hence, the small box collection. I still love tiny things. I prefer a notebook sized laptop to a desktop computer, and I’ll take Apple’s Nano any day over a larger player. If I see a demitasse tea set, I go a little crazy. A small, mother-in-law cottage makes me giddy. I used to love to play with my father’s 1/43 scale model cars. I couldn’t tell you a thing about the cars, nor really cared to know anything about their engines or what made them wonderful vehicles, but I loved to point out how some manufacturers paid precious attention to detail, so much so you could see teeny-tiny mufflers attached to itty-bitty exhaust pipes. Another of my favorite toys was a perfect minuture scale teepee that came with an accompanying Native American doll. She was my Barbie’s best friend. In fact, I always wished Barbie was a bit smaller. Not in that way, but shorter. Smaller scale. Then she would have fit in my dollhouse, as well as the teepee.
But, I said I wasn’t going to wax on about the past, didn’t I? Yes, well, looking into the future these days makes me wish I could wave a magic wand and make all the insanity of the world go away. The closer I get to the time in life when the notion of using a cane doesn’t exactly offend, the more trepidation I feel. It’s enough to want to wrap safely up in an old throw blanket, curl up on the couch with a good book and escape into someone else’s world; let some wonderful fiction author’s words and ideas plant seeds of thought in my mind for a change, rather than all those bloviating snollygosters (my new favorite word!) blathering away on the TV, radio, internet and in the papers (hey, this nostalgic girl still reads a newspaper or two). Or, better yet, I should escape into my own wacky world and write a rambly-ambly blog post using a bunch of seemingly unrelated prompts, as I did this afternoon. Nothing like unlocking my creativity to put my mood in a better place.
Before the proverbial last bus leaves the awake and alert station (it’s Sunday afternoon and there’s nothing more wonderful after cozying up on a couch with a book than immediately following it with an afternoon nap), I want to tell tnkerr and April how much I enjoy playing writing games with them and genuinely appreciate their contributions to TBP. We’d love to see all the other 170-ish TBP followers join in the fun!
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll … I’ll jus… (zzzz….zzzz…zzz…)
[An hour and a half? I think. I kept dozing off 😉 I’m sure I am well over the WPC. I choose 17!]