Terrible Analogies

Remember the Radio Flyer wagon you had as a kid?  Remember sitting in this simple molded piece of sheet metal, hurtling yourself down the neighborhood’s version of Dead Man’s Hill, white knuckles clutching on to the inverted wagon arm, locked in a death grip, desperately trying to scrub off some speed before finally tipping over and scraping your hands and elbows in an agonizing fleshy, skidding stop?

Good times.  Good times.

Well, it seems that the trusty ole’ Red Wagon wasn’t good enough for Radio Flyer, who currently is busy reimaging their iconic product.  Taking a cue from the auto manufacturers Radio Flyer hopes to remake a classic.  This new version of the little red wagon is:

“Outfitted with 5-point safety harnesses, padded seats, cup holders, foot brakes and fold-out storage containers.  There’s a digital handle that tracks temperature, time, distance and speed — just in case energetic parents want to track their split times around the playground. And there’s a slot for an MP3 player, complete with speakers, for some cruising tunes.”

Outrage!  Can you imagine your kids doing exactly what you did as a kid, seeing how fast they can go before spilling out in a screaming heap at the bottom of an asphalt hill?  Only this time little Johnny is tied in tight with a racing harness, tumbling over and over with a hunk of platic strapped to his ass.  With every rotation his limbs become pinned between his plastic companion and the concrete, snapping bones as he tumbles.  The combined weight of child and toy compounding into an extended slide of harrowingly slow, piercing , painful proportions.

But hey, as long this updated wagon has the modern creature comforts of drink holders for juicy boxes, digital temperture gauges, and a stereo system then little things like multiple contusions and dislocations should be nothing more than an afterthought for the modern child on the go.

Bored during my one day off from work this week I found myself thumbing through my copy of Edward R. Tufte’s The Visual Display of Quantitative Information when I happened upon this old advertisement from a 1938 Johnson & Smith Catalogue hocking “Luminous Glasses”.  Apparently these gimmicky eyeglass frames were coated with a layer of luminescent paint which, if worn in a dark environment, would glow in unusual patterns.  

Was this some sort of a fad in the late thirties?  Did people spend an unusual amount of their time in dark alcoves and gothic recesses, generating the desperate need for glow-in-the-dark eyewear?  Was this fad akin to wearing an onion in your belt, swallowing live goldfish, sporting conk hairstyles, or wearing Member’s Only jackets?

This fad must have stayed in the public consciousness long enough to allow the manufacturer time to expand their eyewear line to include “Window Spectacles” and “Spectacles & Nose” models, the latter making the wearer look like some sort of twisted neoprimitive medicine man running wild on an all night bender of illicit stimulants washed down with Red Bull & vodka.   

Ya know, the more I look at this advertisement, the more it gives off an awfully powerful psychedelic vibe making it seem more at home in a Timothy Leary testimonial, a Tom Wolfe / William S. Burroughs novel, or a Victor Moscoso poster than in a 30′s novelty catalogue.

The Virgin Mary seems to make many appearances in various forms, somehow projecting a mystical aura more powerful than Adam Sandler and Ricardo Montalban in their Fantasy Island/SNL prime combined.  But instead of projecting her ethereal image into the heavens above for all to see, or simply haunting a middle-class duplex like a Poltergeist movie gone bad, she instead seems to prefer making her presence known through unimpressive water stains and burnt toast.

These dubious techniques leave much to be desired by the masses expecting a rock ‘n roll laser light show live at buddakan spectacular of miracles and visions.  Instead we’re left to believe in the everlasting love found in the hereafter via signs found in tree stumps and fence posts.

Appearing in the toast of a cheese sandwich, the Virgin Mary gives a shout out to her homies.

The Virgin Mary appears under a freeway underpass.  The faithful turned out in droves swinging bibles and rocking their faith.

Appearing as a blob of chocolate, the Virgin Mary apparently has a place in her heart for candy makers.

Looking prettier than Val Kilmer before he got hit repeatedly about the head and shoulders with an ugly stick, Mary glistens with prismatic rainbow hues in the windows of an office complex.

Tree stump Mary.  I know, I know…I’m rolling my eyes as hard as I can.  Can you feel it?

The Virgin Mary wields supernatural powers, revealing herself to the world in the form of a pretzel.

The Virgin Mary appears in the form of a fence post….comeon, what the heck?  Should I continue wasting my time with this blog post?

Apparently up to date with modern technology, the Virgin Mary appears in an MRI scan.

Imagine the shock and awe of the gardener who discovered the Virgin Mary hiding inside the rotting husk of the next door neighbor’s tree…

Mary appearing on a wicked skipping stone.

Mary, with apparently nothing else to do, appears as a scorch on the bottom of a pizza pan.

Don’t get me wrong.  If you believe that the mother of Jesus Christ has nothing better to do than reveal herself in the crust of your child’s PB&J, then hey, more power to you.  Me, I’d like to think that there is a higher power, but that power has better things to do than show itself to a bunch of fervent faithful in the form of a broken tree branch.  I’d also like to think that it has more insight and intelligence than to frak with us in such a way.

If you do believe in this stuff, then I don’t mean to belittle your faith.  How can I argue faith to a  true believer?  You continue to believe in your cheese sandwich apparitions.  I’ll continue to simply believe that there’s “something” bigger than us out there, and perhaps one day we’ll meet.

Karin and I took a quick spin to Home Depot to pick up a new air filter for the house when we spotted this urban camper settled in for what appears to be an extended stay.  Notice the satellite dish next to the camper door?  The man must be on a serious shopping mission.

If nothing else you gotta admire his dedication to staying off the grid.  It’s this type of person we’ll be looking up to when machines finally take over…