A Camel Named Art

It's been such a very long time since I was on this site that I had to stop and think about what my password might be. Amazingly enough, I remembered it. I say amazing because Michael assigned this particular password, and he tends to use the most cryptic passwords imaginable. Yes, I realize you're not supposed to use personal information such as family member's names or birthdays or such, but Michael will assign a part number from a tube that he used to fix a 1967 RCA black and white television set when he was 20 years old, that part number having no less than 20 characters, both alpha and numeric. The fact that I remembered the password for my blog site is truly amazing.

I'm finding this winter to be rough going. I have, along with most of you, no doubt, had quite enough. I see that the clocks are going to spring ahead this Sunday, so that is a sure sign that Spring is coming, right? I know, wishful thinking.

Let me tell you a story - this tale is about a camel named Art. Two Saturdays ago our new bed was delivered and I decided that along with a new bed we should have a new bed spread and bed skirt and fancy poofy pillows and some matching fake flowers for the bedside table. I set out shopping with the spread and skirt in mind; the pillows and flowers were just a nice surprise along the way. I love it when stuff matches. Anyway, in my travels and spending glut I stopped in to a lovely home decor store that is usually too expensive for my budget and while I think everything in the store looks fabulous, I cannot picture it in our house. It would lose something in the translation. But, I ventured in for a peek anyway.

I was alone and roamed around the store for quite some time, delighting in the colors and just feeling happy to be surrounded by such pretty stuff. I rounded the corner by the clearance shelves and there in front of me was the most adorable iron camel I have ever seen. He (hard to say, actually) stood about 3 feet high. There was something appealing about him...not sure what. The original price tag said $120. and he was marked down 75%. I gazed at him for a while, roamed around a bit more, and kept coming back to the camel. A stange woman came up behind me and admired the camel too - I said, while shaking my head, "I'm not sure my husband will love this" (I was thinking more that he might despise it, or worse, ridicule it). She said "if you keep coming back to him, he must be meant for you". She goaded me; she led me to believe that the 3 foot tall iron camel would fit right in with the decor of my house; she convinced me that men are stupid and have no taste. It's all her fault.

Happily, and as if I were in my right mind, I proceeded to the cash register. Setting Art on the counter (he had not actually assumed a name at that point), I asked the woman behind the counter this question: "Can I return this if my husband hates it?" The look that passed over her face can only be called mystified. Clearly she had no clue what I was meaning. Finally she said "why would it matter if he hated it?" I asked her if she were married. Then I spotted the engagement ring. Alrighty then.

I paid for the camel after I got confirmation that I could indeed return him if he posed a problem on the home front. The strange woman was behind me as I was leaving and she told me not to worry, that I could always re-gift it. Why would I need to re-gift something I was buying for myself?

As I was driving home I tried to picture the iron camel at our house. A vision of Harvey and Kenny in our livingroom, banjo and mandolin in hand flashed through my mind. Just beyond them sat the camel, totally out of place. I knew even before I got home he would not fit in, but what the heck. I tried anyway. I knew it was going to be a problem as Michael was walking upstairs and yelled "what the heck is that in our bedroom?" The camel looked ridiculous in the corner of our bedroom, and even worse on top of the entertainment center in the livingroom. It just looked so stiff and unnatural and ... iron. Michael, who has a real flair for understatement said, "What is that, anyway? ART??" And that was how we named Art the Iron Camel.

On Monday we returned Art to the store. We had grown fond of him, but still, he didn't fit in. Or should I say I had grown fond of him, and Michael had grown fond of making fun of him. Anyway, the same person was working the counter as the Saturday before and she recognized me. As Michael roamed off to look at the pretty stuff she leaned toward me and whispered "did it not go well?" I'm pretty sure she thinks Michael is a big meanie and made me return Art, which is not the case. As I defended Michael I wondered if this was how battered women feel when they have to cover up to protect the illusion of their happy life. I grew tired of trying to convince her that returning the camel was my idea and that he didn't fit in with our home...I even called across the store and told Michael to come and give Art a good-bye kiss. As we were leaving the woman put Art in the store window so he could watch us leave. It was all just too funny. We're still laughing.

In the car I said "I feel really sorry for the people that actually paid $120. for Art." Michael said "I'm pretty sure you bought the only one."

I like to refer to that Saturday as the launch of my own economic stimulus plan. And the bedspread and fake flowers look really pretty.

Thought for today:
"The only way to keep your health is to eat what you don't want, drink what you don't like, and do what you'd rather not."
Mark Twain