I’ll tell you what I really really want…

I wouldn’t describe myself as a particularly spiritual person, but by the other side of the same token I would neither call myself overly materialistic. With this disclaimer in hand and just as quickly out of my hand, in the company of pigs in pokes and cats out of bags, I want to share a deep, dark secret with you, my devoted, beloved, Dear Reader(s).

Sometimes, in my lowest hours, I know, I just know, gripped in the surety of despair, that possessing a certain item will bring limitless  joy to my poor, impoverished existence. More often than not, the item is the same thing, recurring in my visions and haunting my adumbrant days. What could this most fabulous of objects (apologies to Time Bandits) be, you ask? Some splendiferous jewel? A sportscar so sexy one needs to reenact childbirth in reverse just to get inside it? A housecat who can clean her own litterbox,  run the coffee machine and make fabu martinis? No, none of those.

 

Coffee, Tea, or Me? COFFEE OF COURSE!

For lack of anything better to do (take a “cute” picture of Ernestine, work on that big old mega-post, write something that involves thinking, do some w*rk), I thought I’d share a passion of mine.

Coffee, java, joe, mud, jamoke, murk, kona, caffe, et al. Love it. Doesn’t give me a physiological boost, but I like the flavor of good coffee, the comfort of a hot cup, even >gasp!< sitting around and klatching with others.

 

Panniverse™ Redux: Chux

I know I’ve been getting carried away with the whole Panniverse™ conceit, so I’ll here apologize if it’s been getting under the skin of my regular reader(s). Nevertheless, I’m having trouble kicking the habit, as evidenced by my latest escapade.

I sashayed over to the Converse website (warning: it plays music unsolicitedly; the control button is in the lower left of the screen) and created a pair of custom suede Chuck Taylors. They’re low-key high tops in stately blue and grey (no intentional Civil War connotations):

 

Intermission · Wrought Irony

I’m in the midst of sporadically typing up the second installment of my personal history of two-wheeled mishaps, but thought it’d be nice to insert a brief post.

I’m sure many of you are familiar with the retail chain Design Within Reach. They have stores- excuse me, studios- in 25 states, the District of Columbia, and two Canadian provinces. Specializing in mid-century classics of furniture and decor by such design luminaries as Eames, Le Corbusier, Noguchi and Saarinen, DWR aims to make officially-licensed reproductions affordable (a relative term, assuredly) to the Not-Particularly-Great-and-More-or-Less-Washed.

The stor studios all have a similar design. Here are a few photographs of different locations:

 

Now, here’s the thing. Every time I see one of these stor locati studi establishments, I can’t help but picture myself (or some other chump) gamely leaping up, arm outstretched, trying in vain to reach the sign/logo/banner which is at least 10 feet off the ground. Grumble, grumble.