John and I culled seven boxes of lesser exhibits today from the Museum of the Weird collections. Among the items we gave to Goodwill were the following:
- a framed photo of Roy Rogers
- a Talking Heads tabletop display with all the Heads creased at the neck
- a board game based on London cab drivers
- a poster celebrating 25 years of Dungeons and Dragons
- a vintage Hot Wheels case with all the interesting parts missing
- a 1950s California style ceramic round robin modular serving tray
- a Disney's Hunchback of Notre Dame party decorations set
John was sure that the green thing in the pictures above was one of those novelty dog walking leashes for an invisible dog, although he could not explain why we had one. I was able to prove what it really was by showing him the label and demonstrating its use. It was a low tech device for pulling stuff toward you, meant for people with reduced mobility. It belonged to my Mom. The label was from a medical supply company, and it was made in the UK, of all places.
On the way back I checked on our colorful friend, the winged bison of Copper Country Antiques. Since the signs that accompany him are always signed Fred, it's not a stretch to name him after his owner. From now on, in this blog at least, his name is Fred the Winged Victory Bison.
I thought for a moment that he had just been painted blue (remember, he's been hot pink, and later wore a silver spacesuit), but no, he's now as divided as the electorate is, half blue, half red. He's still on the red, white and blue boat, but now he's poking his head inside a voting booth, with patriotic streamers to ensure his privacy. I bet you didn't know that winged bison had the right to vote in this country.
Tonight as I was reorganizing my photo files, there was an unexpected but familiar sound in the next room. John had paused the DVD player on Lt. Uhura's face, gone off to do something else, and gone to bed with it still on pause. (He does this all the time.) But two hours ago, I suddenly started hearing the classic Star Trek bleep and bloop sounds. I thought perhaps John had woken up and decided to watch some more tv; but there was no one in the room but the dogs, and the remote was on the floor. So, who turned off the Nichelle Nichols interview and returned to the features menu? Was it Pepper, whom I've teased before on this very subject?
That was then. But now?
Or was it the ever-agile Cayenne, who showed absolutely no interest in the device once I was in the room?
I know which one I suspect!