Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Down for the count
I am sort of laid up with a bad back. I was taking out the trash and bent down and bang! Its amazing how things can just be going along so swimmingly and then kapow! Teaches me to do housework...
Leslie and I got up at 4 in the morning Sunday and drove up to the Long Beach Flea Market. She drove, I snored. We got our start in the antiques business like many people did, on the pavement at some godforsaken swap meet in the middle of the night. And many of the faces have never changed. Eventually you get pulled out of there with a tag on your toe. We used to do 35 a year out of our need to survive. It was fun for a while but the quality of the goods is getting worse and worse in this age of instant knowledge courtesy of the net. I will never forget the time Leslie dropped a cement cylinder used to weight down the tent corner on her foot at 3:30 a.m. Broke several bones and I knew that we couldn't continue doing shows like that. We took some chances and moved into a different sphere. Still miss the crazy camaraderie - like a Grateful Dead family of junkers.
We found very little - a nouveau poster of a lady for her store and some cypress knees for a buddy of mine, Gene Saunders, that carves perfect raptors out of wood. Ran into some old friends. We then had breakfast at Norms and drove to downtown Los Angeles to the Fashion Mart so that Les could order for the fall and winter. It's Fashion Week. Many shops in a huge building and they all know her and love her. Delectable food in every room - lots of sugar, I was flying high. Lots of beautiful girls, too. Not a ton of straight men pass through the hallowed halls so I was a bit of an anomaly and didn't mind the attention.
Not to offend, but didn't see as many tattoos as usual and kind of liked it. I see so many young girls(and boys) doing really brutal things to their arms and necks and wonder if they are going to have a post ink hangover one day and freakout. Lot more tattoos at the Vegas fashion shows. I think I may live in the epicenter and hope the wave flows the other way. Probably some deep seated jewish taboo rooted in my genetic coding.
Anyhow, the wife was driving and changed my seat position in my car and I had trouble finding the sweet spot again and the back rebelled. Flexorill, ice packs, stretching, nothing works so I am off to the chiropractor.
Posted by Blue Heron at 11:01 AM
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I will now have nightmares from the bald doll photo. Carrie
Not a Jewish taboo. Tatoos suck.
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