Sunday, November 30, 2008
In the end I was finding any excuse to walk by them. In my loneliness, I found that I would justify it by one excuse or another, thinking it doesn’t hurt anything just to look. But then it became an obsession. More and more I was drawn to that window, until I found myself one day actually going into the store. It was warm inside and filled with wondrous curiosities the likes of which I had never seen before. I mean I am just a guy from Moab basically, what did I know of the ways of the world, or with what power those kinds of things could draw me? The fall came swiftly. My rational self broke down. It was if I was possessed by my ape nature and I could not resist the temptation placed before me. If only Lori had been there to stop me. If only my parents training could have somehow bubbled up through the terrible lust that consumed me. But I gave in. I couldn’t seem to help myself; it was like watching myself in a movie all the while screaming at the actor as I watched him self-destruct on the screen, “Stop. Don’t do this!” but there was no stopping it. The train had lost its breaks; the boat its rudder. Pick your metaphor as long as it conveys unstoppable forward motion towards annihilation, it will describe what happened. On the day it happened I had a feeling I should not walk past the window.
I felt warned away as if somehow I knew the temptation was growing too much to handle. But there I was looking in the window again. It was like a work of art sitting there in the window. No, not like a work of art, it was a work of art. So I went in. The person at the desk must have sensed how nervous I was as I picked out the object of my lust. “A fine one indeed,” he said with a smile. “Very rare and precious.” It was too much. I caved in like a mine that’s support timbers have rotted to wormwood. So here it is:
I now own a Hagenauer. An art deco bronze from the famed Hagenauer brass works that closed 30 years ago. I know I shouldn’t have. But I couldn’t help myself. It was too perfect—me an evolutionary biologist and here an ape poised in the moment between four-legs and two, holding a rudimentary tool as it climbs into the future. Please. Don’t tell Lori what I’ve done. Is she finds out she will take an ax to me like her great-great-grandmother did to three husbands—everyone of them killed because they bought inappropriate brass works. But what’s this! I’m happy I did it! Happy I tell you. I won’t go back to my previous brass-less existence. I own a Hagenauer and take full responsibility for that means. And no I won’t be repenting.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Nathan heard all the commotion downstairs and ran down to see what T was doing. So now I had both of them playing with Steve's rifles.
I ran and got the camera because it's a blogging moment.
Then they just kept getting goofier and goofier.
Just to let you know. There was NO amo in the guns or in the house. It would be dangerous with these goofy guys. But not to be outdone, Christopher came over tonight to play with the rifles with Nathan.Steve, don't worry. The rifles are fine and there is no damage to any of them. They justs had tons of fun posing with them. Timothy and Nathan did finally get the mattress upstairs and in the car.