"Big fish, will swallow you whole."

April 30, 2010

April’s going out with a “SWOOOSH”; the entire Greater Chicagoland area is under a tornado watch. A “watch” is the lesser to the greater “warning”. The watch gets you a little giddy while the warning alerts you to pick up your beagle and a flashlight and hide in the basement.

The thought of dodging a twister always sparked my sense of adventure. The movie “Twister” was a great roller coaster ride, but of course, it was all in fiction and fun. It was a safe place to play Dorothy Gale. When a real one is at your doorstep, it’s not that funny.

A few years back, we dodged such a twirly bird. An actual tornado tore through an area of Elmhurst only about a mile north of here. The sky outside our house became uncommonly serene in temperament (after a bout of high winds and hollering), and army drab in color. We learned later that we were essentially in the eye of the storm.

The wind outside is kicking up just now. I’m burning vanilla spice incense and the wind loves to rush through, pick up a whiff of the perfume, and carry it along outside, dispersing it to our next door neighbors (who think we’re freaks anyway, so the incense only adds to our cachet as “those odd Liberal folks in the bright blue house.” Now we’re probably “those odd Liberal folks in the bright blue house who are attempting to cover up the Mary Jane stink.” Although I would be really surprised if they even knew any euphemisms for pot).
But I digress.

Today, through the windyblowyness, we traipsed out, beagle in tow, to visit some yard sales. It’s early in the season, but we managed to pick up some great swag. I give you: “Groovy Garage Sale Finds of the Day”: vintage Eeyore figurine (says “Made in Japan” on the underside), big patio pot for flowers with crisp blue and white windowpane decoration and, my “big fish story” of the day, literally: squishy/”fiberglass” lamp in shape of Great White shark, complete with menacing smile. The "Jaws" geek in me came near to exploding.

So, in the event of a tornado chugging down the block, I’ll sweep up my beagle under one arm, laptop under the other, and make sure Ben has the shark lamp. Because this is the kind of kitsch they write poetry about.

Oh, fiberglassy shark lamp
Oh, campy lampy.
Beacon of Spielberg’s great film

(Keep those fingersnaps of appreciation coming….. Thank you.)