Sunday, January 22, 2006

Chapter 4 - "Dat's diffarent."

These flea markets are a soul vortex. We kept getting the "Dat's diffarent" observation so finally I asked this really shlubby couple what it meant."Good different or bad different?" The woman said, "Well, if yoor inta dat kinda ting" while the man, his porcine figure stuffed with a lifelong diet of scrapple stretching wide his bib overalls, did the either/or thing with his hand. So for sure it is shlub code for that sucks. Anything different is liable to fuck with their pacemaker or stop the flow of embalming fluid in their veins. They are truly afraid of us. Different to them is the worst, more horrible than farting out loud in church. Also J and I realized these are the people who we grew up with and were rejected by, me in the Upper Peninsula Michigan, she in Bungdaisy, MI. And to see them reject us over and over again with the bad smell nose krinkle is a terrible trigger to both of us. Just having her point this out helped and I was able to get through the day without wishing violent ill on them, merely that a little bird flop might land on their judgemental noses.

Tonight read an article on Netscape homepage that listed the meanest cities in America. Sarasota topped it. Homeless are taken to shelters or jail but they are given the choice and it is for their own safety it is said. We could be arrested and taken to jail (or possibly worse, a shelter) just for crashing at a Wal*mart there. The wierd thing is we heard that a few years ago it was a crafter who brought down the Draconian wrath of the cities wise elders. Apparently he/she got into a scrap with somebody at a Wal*mart and that torched it for everybody there. Things just snowballed from there. No doubt though, you can actually feel your short hairs standing on end sometimes with all the hate out there. For us, for anybody who isn't locked inside a hermetically sealed new modeled RV, or up to their scalp in credit card debt and living in some overpriced roachhaven. Where will all this hate go? Somebody has to pay. A few days ago it was a poor guy who was living on the streets...

Last night was a peaceful one spent by a little manmade pond outside a Wal*mart only a few miles from the other. It was hard though to walk Lucky as she was like a powerful magnet for the very ugly salt and pepper colored ducks with red wattles all over their faces, who seemed to be having an orgy on the pond. I wanted to let her swim but you just never can tell if there is a gator in something like this.

Tomorrow is a day of rest, not really though since we need to beef up the booth with more earrings and necklaces. J is busy at it by my side in the bullet here outside of Starbucks on College Ave. Snipping and bending metal, making fantastic copper twist bracelets that the shlubs will point at and say, "dat's diffarent." Yes, dear shlubby. It is different. Your television is calling you. You'd better go to it.

This nice cool florida breeze is what we have more than anything at this moment. Sweet dreams.


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