On Friday, May 31st, I awoke with a wild, unmanageable fro. It so turned out to be the hottest day of the year, an unseasonable 96 degrees in the shade. No amount of John Freida’s Anti-Frizz serum was going to tame the blonde cotton candy atop my head. It would be a day best suited for a straw fedora. And I decided to spend the hottest day of the year with my hot (air-filled) friend, Skip, the male blow up doll. Remember Skip? He was my MAN DATE back in February for the Valentine’s Day post. I felt like it was time to pull him out from behind my Art Deco inspired bar and take him for a stroll. My agenda – a promenade through my village and then attend an auction event.
First stop on the outing was my favorite small independently owned ice cream cart owned by “Champagne.” Yes, Champagne is male, covered in tattoos and serves home made Italian ice, made with fresh fruit. He is eager to please. He gave me his cell phone number just in case I am on the other side of town and need an emergency icy snack. I can ring him up and he will ride his cart over to meet me. Now, THAT IS SERVICE! Speaking of service, what I love most about Champagne is how affectionately he speaks about his daughter, who is in the U.S. armed services in Afghanistan. Even though he worries about his daughter day and night, he wakes up on a positive note knowing that he will bring smiles to kids everyday with home made ices.
I finished off my strawberry-kiwi Italian ice lickety-split and headed to the auction house with Skip. I arrived early–something I always do. I can get my early viewing without being elbowed in the face by overzealous, sweaty-palmed, professional auction hunters.
What should you wear to an auction with a male plastic doll? Two-tone straw fedora by Cha Cha’s House of Ill-Repute, Leopard sunnies by Maustein for ASOS, Anna Sui polka dot top, vintage necklace, American Apparel zip leggings, Prada Maryjanes. Skip is wearing a Morrisey concert tee I loaned him as seen here, thermal longjohns from Kmart and straw fedora.
As you can see, we were the first ones there, so I raced to the front where all the action occurs. First things first. I had to grab the gavel off the podium and do a photo-op since it is the most respected object at any properly conducted auction. I felt naughty for a minute and wanted to stash it in my purse and make a run for it. I looked around the room searching for something they could easily replace it just in case. Bingo! An antique cast iron skillet.
Upon Skip’s urging I put the gavel back and circled around the room to see what was for sale. My attention was immediately drawn to the Bell & Howell 8 MM film projector. Old film projectors are works of art. They are timeless pieces of film history used to project one of the greatest inventions ever–moving film. If I had the room in my house, I would display about six of them in different sizes on a book shelf.
Next, I was drawn to a pair of Raggedy Ann and Andy dolls and an old backgammon set. I had a Raggedy Ann doll growing up, so immediately felt nostalgic about it.
On the other side of the auction I felt even more nostalgic as my eyes locked with a red tricycle similar to the one I had as a child growing up in Forest Hills, Queens. Mine had a bell which I rang incessantly so people would scatter out of my way. I was always a kid on a mission–one with everywhere to go and explore. In my juvenile and ever so slightly tilted mind, I imagined myself to be some sort of lasso wielding, Amazon-like goddess Wonder Woman character cycling around my neighborhood in pursuit of truth, justice and the American way. Of course, the red cape was flapping stylishly in the wind, bien sûr!
What a day! The auction was a success with a great turn out and excellent sales despite the lingering recession. People came out to purchase a bit of Americana.
I didn’t purchase anything since Skip was unenthusiastic about everything I wanted. When I clamored for the red tricycle, all of a sudden I could hear him start to deflate, so I knew the cycle would not come home with me.
Oddly enough, at the very end of the show I found one item that not only scared me to death, but mesmerized Skip. His plastic core was glowing like an ember.
This ghastly dressed marmish plastic puppet gave off a bad vibe. I felt like she was intruding on my turf. So I went up and closely inspected her. I gingerly lifted up her cheap floral dress, while making sure no one could see what I was up to. Aha! There it was glaring at me. She was stamped with MADE IN THE USA . Since most plastic toys are made in China, it became painfully clear. Skip, my blow up MAN DATE, was made in China and was instantly smitten with this Made in the USA stringy creation. Ugh! It then dawned on me- I was being dumped for a plastic American puppet quite a few years my senior!
June 11, 2013 at 8:57 am
Pretty shirt :)
June 9, 2013 at 9:14 am
There is so much in this post, wow, I'm not sure where to begin. Like "Ulysses," this is like a vision of a day in your own personal "urban-suburban" "Dublin."
Are you turning Joycean on us?
June 9, 2013 at 12:26 pm
I am definitely creating my own reality. Yes, this was one of my more bizarre posts but it made me laugh for an entire week. I will continue to write about Haverstraw as Joyce wrote about Dublin. I really like it here and have much to say about it. Everyone needs a blow up doll. Carry one in your town. The looks you get are hilarious.
June 4, 2013 at 4:09 pm
June 4, 2013 at 3:34 am
Oh Mags, there's more blow up dolls in the sea, trust me. Oh, and I had to read this twice because the first time I thought you were talking about you on your bike… on our college campus: " Mine had a bell which I rang incessantly so people would scatter out of my way. " …Some things never change!!!
June 3, 2013 at 5:26 pm
Charming post!! Wanna meet " Champagne"!!!