May 20, 2006

Play

So I'm in Target the other night and on a whim I decide to look at the Play-Doh because we'd talked about making some little PlayDoh shapes and using those for target practice with the airsoft pistols at work. (Hey, we're the creative department ... we're weird that way.) But I notice that the package does not have the huge Non-Toxic scrawled all over it that I remember from being a kid.

So I actually read the fine print. Content ... blah blah blah. Compound colors may vary. Well, that's fine cuz I'm already planning on mixing the blue and yellow to make green, anyway. Then, in bold ... in a paragraph of its own:

Fun to play with, but not to eat.

Okay, that's kinda funny. I would think if they really wanted kids to not eat the stuff, that statement would be somewhere else instead of in the fine print, but ok, whatever. The next paragraph insists that "Molded results vary depending on child's age and level of skill."

Really!??? Do you mean that Play-Doh does not automatically turn everyone into Michelangelo? Hmm. I was unaware of this.

Then, down past the copyright and the list of Hasbro mailing addresses, there's another bit in boldface:

Modeling compound. Not intended to be eaten.

Now this is all a far cry from the large Non-Toxic label that I remember, so I trotted on over to the Hasbro Play-Doh website in an effort to figure out why Play-Doh was no longer listed as Non-Toxic. It wasn't until I looked at their FAQ that I found this:

PLAY-DOH compound is non-toxic, non-irritating and non-allergenic except as noted: Children who are allergic to wheat gluten may have an allergic reaction to this product.

Okay, this makes sense, I suppose. With the way some people use the word "toxic" to mean harmful at all, it could be considered harmful to kids with wheat allergies.

But what doesn't make sense to me is this:

Let's see, purchase $20 bottle of perfume ... or 97 cents for a two-pack of Play-Doh to smear around (and then sculpt nifty effigies of the person you're irritated with and act out lovely Gumby scenes). I mean, if you really want to smell like Play-Doh, why not have the fun of playing with Play-Doh too???

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go buy some Mr. Sketch markers so I can smell like licorice tomorrow at church. :)

Posted by Red Monkey at 1:02 PM | Comments (4) | People Say I Have ADHD, But I Think - Hey Look, A Chicken | TrackBack | Stumble

May 16, 2006

Red Monkey

I love antique stores and junk stores. I have this thing for toys, particularly old toys. I'm fascinated by everything from the packaging and advertising to the toys themselves. The problem is a lot of those so-called antique stores - at least the ones that also sell old toys - are really antique store and collectibles store combos. So I'll see a booth full of Nascar stuff next to one with clothes from the 20s and 30s. Not a big deal, really, it's usually all interesting stuff - if it wasn't for the crazy prices some of the collectibles folks tend to charge.

Anyhow, this is about 1999 or 2000 and I'm walking through a pretty cool antique store when I round the corner to the biggest flippin' display of Ty Beanie Babies I've ever seen. And despite their frenzied, must-have popularity, some of these little guys are really cute and clever. I already had a handful of the things, ones I thought were really cool or cute. I have the otter, the Ireland bear and a few others. (Why haven't they made a dolphin yet??) I also have the first monkey they made, cuz I've always really liked monkeys.

So, in this display case they have this really cool new Beanie Baby I haven't seen yet, a little red monkey with a cute tan face and a little fluff of hair on top of his head. I have to have him. DId I mention that some of these collectible places think they can charge 4-5 times the retail prices on a toy that's just come out? Not a toy that's been out and then discontinued, excuse me, "retired." A toy that is currently being mass produced but just barely started hitting the shelves - those toys are worth the retail price. Not "scalper" prices.

So this scalper booth wants $20 or $25 for a $5 stuffed animal. I stomped past, growling and grousing about opportunistic scalpers and this kind of artificial supply and demand being among the worst of human impulses. I do not "have to have" something like a little stuffed animal so badly that I will pay 5x its actual worth. I would pay $1 or $2 more to have it now - I can be that shallow and that careless about my spending money from time to time. But this, this is not capitalism - it's stupidity. Stupidity on the part of the seller and on the part of anyone who gives in and buys the overpriced goods.

Yeah, my friends are tired of that rant, too.

So, later that night, my friends and I are sitting in the living room watching a movie. It's a pseudo-SF movie called Strange Days. It's an awesome movie set just a touch in the future when people don't just watch reality tv, they experience it through virtual programs on the computer.

Well, I'd seen the movie before and it was fast becoming one of my favorites, but I was a little restless and bored that night. So everyone's really really into the movie, the tension's building and I'm kinda looking around the room. I see my little beanie-baby monkey on the bookshelf.

"I really want that red monkey," I say aloud.

The whole room turns to stare at me in shock. "What?"

The movie had to be paused and rewound a bit. Evidently it was a really intense point in the flick.

"What?" I ask, all wounded innocence and surprised at their reaction.

"Where did that come from?" they reply.

"I was just looking around the room and saw my little monkey and that reminded me of the beanie baby we saw in that store today - " there's much eye-rolling at this pronouncement "-and I just realized that I really want that little monkey."

"We're in this intense part of the movie and you're talking about a stuffed monkey?"

Somehow, my explanation did not help my case at all. "I've seen the movie before" I point out helpfully.

"I repeat, we're in this tense and intense part of the movie and you are thinking about a toy monkey?" The room is staring at me now. Finally someone grabs the remote and flips the movie back to play, muttering, "You are so ADD."

You've maybe seen the t-shirt that says "They say I have ADD, but I don't think ...Hey look! A chicken!" Well, my chicken is a red monkey.

Interestingly enough, a year or so later I was diagnosed as ADHD.

Now, I have a McD's teenie beanie version atop my monitor at work and the regular-sized one in the home office.

So, that's the story of the red monkey.

And now you know lots of important tidbits about me.

So now you know.

Posted by Red Monkey at 4:25 AM | Comments (1) | People Say I Have ADHD, But I Think - Hey Look, A Chicken | TrackBack | Stumble

May 11, 2006

The Office

Click the thumbnails for a bigger peek into the office of the Red Monkey.

Randomness. Pick a thumbnail.

Can you guess what these things are before you click?

Posted by Red Monkey at 12:46 PM | Comments (7) | People Say I Have ADHD, But I Think - Hey Look, A Chicken | TrackBack | Stumble

May 5, 2006

Hearts

I am a very tangential person. You start talking about tomatoes, and I start thinking about spaghetti sauce which leads to thinking about the cat who LOVES good, chunky tomato spaghetti sauce, which reminds me of how he likes avocadoes, which makes me say aloud, "I want some guacomole." Well, it made sense to me, anyway.

So a couple of years ago, I'm at a conference and there's really not any phone service out there. But we are wired to the internet. So, the ony communication we have is via email because she didn't like the idea of a chat program.

I get this email from her in which she is going on about some Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode she just saw (we both love the show) and then, she tries to be all sweet and romantic at the end of the email. She says something like, "I hold your heart in my hands."

And all I could think was: eeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwwwwwww, messy!!!

One of these days I'm going to tell that story one too many times and she's gonna haul off and whack me one.

But really, this says more about my tangential thought processes than anything else.

I wonder when the animated series is gonna finally come out?

And if you could follow my line of thought on that last question, I'll give you 50 BlogMad credits. Put the answer in the comments along with the appropriate web link to what I'm referencing. :)

Oh, and if you're looking for Red Monkey jeans, I don't have any here and I don't know where you can get them, and I wish Google would put Red Monkey Jeans ads in the sidebar so you people could at least get your fricking jeans and get off my site. :) Have a nice day.

Posted by Red Monkey at 11:21 AM | Comments (4) | People Say I Have ADHD, But I Think - Hey Look, A Chicken | TrackBack | Stumble

April 16, 2006

I Don't Remember You

So, I'm sure a lot of Christian blogs around the blogosphere are babbling on about resurrection and joy and bunnies and chicks and new life.

I'm gonna tell a couple of kid stories instead.

Of course Easter often brings out folks who haven't been to church in a while, and today was no exception at our church. One couple, who'd missed the last several months while "Anita" went through a rough pregnancy and then finally delivered a whopping 9 pound "Alejo" (and she's a tiny woman). Finally getting back into the swing of things, they were there with both little Alejo and the now three-year-old "Matteo." Matteo and I had a great friendship going before the Alejo hiatus began ... I adore kids when they hit those "terrible twos and threes" and start expressing their personalities and independence. To me, they are just so much fun ... especially because that internal editor is turned off and they blurt out exactly what they mean (and generally what everyone else is thinking, but won't actually say).

So Matteo's being pretty good through a service that is a bit longer than normal until about the time for communion. He starts getting restless, trying to have conversations with the people around him, getting shushed and generally frustrated at every turn.

Then our pastor begins the words of institution ... "on their last night together .... broke bread, blessed it ... do this and remember me."

Matteo pipes up with that calculated look.

"I don't remember you."

Just loud enough to crack up people all around him but not actually loud enough to disturb the pastor and the whole service. Then he shoots me this goofy little gleam in his eyes and gives me that shit-eating grin ... little twerp knew that was going to get a rise out of everyone. ? And boy did it!

The second funny is one from my way-back files.

My mom is the kind of woman who very much prefers to fade into the background and not be noticed. So, having an outspoken and brash three-year-old (my sister, not me ... I was pretty quiet at that time), was a bit of a trial for her. My sister hadn't been in a while, being a little kid and something of a babbly one as well. So, we go, sit in a pew in the middle, but had to sit out toward the middle aisle, not Mom's favourite spot. Suddenly, the church got quiet, the procession started and the young-ish priest began walking down the aisle ... and my sister comes to attention. And asks a question in her ever-so-quiet stage whisper:

"Is that GOD?????"

The whole church broke up in giggles and of course the priest had to come see the little kid who thought he might be God once the service was over.

Ahhh, isn't it great to have that internal editor on your questions and thoughts?

Posted by Red Monkey at 5:27 PM | Comments (3) | People Say I Have ADHD, But I Think - Hey Look, A Chicken | TrackBack | Stumble

April 15, 2006

Underground

I remember getting World magazine as a young teenager ... and swiping Dad's National Geographics (no, not to look at the half-naked people from other cultures). I did a science fair project in 3rd or 4th grade about archeology because I was fascinated with the kids' book Secrets from the Past that Mom got me from National Geographic. I was fascinated by stories of the Mayans, Aztec and Incans ... I thought that the underground houses in one issue of World were the coolest things I'd ever seen. I toyed with becoming an archeologist for a long time because I'm fascinated with the thought of uncovering the past. By fifth grade, I was furious that we still took a lame social studies class but had not yet started history class. Instead, we went over the same old ground about the U.S. every year and then added choice bits of culture (most often already out-dated) about other countries. So I turned more and more to those National Geographic publications and learned about as many different cultures and situations and ways of living, being, thinking and learning as I could. The articles were always too short and I found myself going back to the library to find out more about some of the things I'd discovered.

Today, I still have a tendency to want to know more about some of the things I read, particularly about other cultures, but today I have the happy happy internets to get some of that instant gratification research done.

So, I was watching the History International
Channel last night and came upon a great show called Secret Passages. Last night's episode had a segment on Baldasare Forestiere's Underground Garden just outside Fresno, California.

Magnificent! This is one of the coolest things I've ever seen.

Baldasare came over from Italy, worked his tail end off and eventually bought the perfect land for a great citrus farm of his own.

Unfortunately, just a little ways down, the soil turned to "hardpan" and Baldasare was stumped on how he would ever be able to plant his orchard and give the trees any chance at all of maturing and surviving. Working in others' orchards, Baldasare began building a wooden home on his property and soon realized that in the high temperatures of California, he was simply building a wooden oven for himself.

So, he dug a cellar.

That was the start of what was to become a major obsession. Baldasare soon decided to build his living space underground. He used the hardpan, cement and mortar to build grand roman arches, tunnels, rooms ... and some of the rooms he completely dug from the top down so that you could have the "outdoors, indoors." It was in one of these circular areas that Baldasare built a planter and planted a citrus tree. He wasn't sure if he could truly get it to grow and bear fruit, but his experiment paid off and soon he was planting his orchard ... as much as 22 feet below the surface. For the next forty years, he used just $300 in supplies ... pickaxe, shovel, cement, mortar ... to build the underground gardens.

There's skylights, grape arbors, and even an aquarium in which the fish swim above you.

Baldasare never "struck it rich" in the traditional sense by his move to California. But he claimed that "To make something with lots of money that is easy — but to make something out of nothing... now that is something." He spent forty years building the visions in his head and it was worth far more than the gold rush of the previous century or the lure of TinselTown.

I only saw a 15 minute segment on this place, but I already want to go there, explore every nook and cranny ... take pictures of it all (I didn't find many on the happy happy internets, sadly).

I don't know exactly what it is that fascinates me so about the things we uncover from the earth, from our past. I don't know why caves fascinate me so, or why the thought of the ruined building on Alcatraz (which I can just see on my desktop outside of this window).

Explore the links ... have fun ... imagine.

Posted by Red Monkey at 6:14 AM | Comments (2) | People Say I Have ADHD, But I Think - Hey Look, A Chicken | TrackBack | Stumble