A Short Divide

It’s coming to that time of the year where I peer into lobbies and storefronts for Christmas decorations on my walk to the office. These are the companies with money and they spare no expense with the decor. What makes it so striking is inside you’re in fairyland, or more precisely, Santa’s attic with his elves, gawking at 10-foot trees dripping in gold and sparkles, with beautifully wrapped red and gold presents amidst the poinsettias, and soft holiday music in the background. I know because I go in and take pictures.  But outside on the dirty sidewalk you’re stepping over sleeping bodies of the homeless. The contrast takes my breath away. I wonder how many see it as they rush to their buildings clutching their peppermint mochas and early morning podcasts stuck to their ears.

I’ve noticed a woman who scoops up one of these homeless men. He sits on the street with a teddy bear. He has long grey, bushy hair and is usually reading a book. She takes him to the corner store and lets him pull down whatever he wants from the shelves. It’s usually chips, candies, coffee. I don’t know how often she does it, but she’s my hero. I know this because I’m in the same store. May her tribe increase.

I’m thinking of ways to help these people too, especially when the temperatures drop and the streets thin out because people are on vacation for the holidays.

Calvin says, “I have an idea. Send out a brigade of volunteers with their therapy dogs to give hugs and kisses. That would be a gift.”

 

 

 

The Face Says It All

The latest advertising scheme is a personal one.

You can sell your body parts as ad space to companies for a fee.

Now young people are sporting company logos on their faces.

Maybe other parts too, but I don’t want to know the details.

That’s not a bad way to make an income if you don’t mind being a billboard.

It’s environmentally friendly. No fliers or postcards to hand people on the street.

It prompts people to ask questions.

It causes a stir. cropped-photo1.jpg

And if you don’t mind people staring at you for 8-hours a day, I suppose it’s a great way to a movie career.

Whatever the reason for renting out your cheeks, you will probably end up with public fatigue at the end of the day.

How can you stand the public’s gaze and murmuring all day long?

“Mary, did you see that woman’s face? Her cheeks looked like two lobsters clawing each other.”

“Now Edward, stop staring at that poor girl. Can’t you see her Botox injection went horribly wrong?”

This sounds crazy, but innovative advertising is always a bit off-putting.

Have you forgotten the ads for beer and cars during a Super-Bowl or a World-Series?

What about the ones with your favorite athlete in them?

I think this rent-a-face idea will catch on quickly.

Especially with fashion models and over-the-hill actors.

What a way to build a second career.

Calvin says, “Beagle cheeks like mine will be all the rage, too. Then I can afford steak for dinner.” beagle

There’s Real And Then There’s Real

At a cafe. Lunch break. Two techies drinking coffee and talking.

Techie 1: You have no patience for obvious arguments. You want the different, the new, the next creative idea.

Techie 2: I want the real.

Techie 1: What if it’s not out there?

Techie 2: The real is always out there, even if I have to invent it.

Techie 1: If it’s invented then it’s not real.

Techie 2: People with no imaginations say that. Where did the laptop come from? Fifty years ago it wasn’t real.

Techie 1: I was thinking mountains, storms, earthquakes. That’s real. Could there be categories for real?

Techie 2: I guess. Maybe theory vs absoluteness. The laptop started as a theory but became an absolute.

Techie 1: And an earthquake is an absolute and will never be a theory. We’re talking origins.

Techie 2 – checking his cell phone: That’s way too philosophical for me.

Calvin says, “Good grief. That’s enough to scramble my beagle brains. How about we talk farts and bad doggie breath? Now that’s real.”