FLAG DISPLAY IS NOT A DETERRENT

I have been ordering a lot of stuff from Home Depot since I moved in early April. Yes, I dumped a lot of my old furniture (maybe not the brightest idea I’ve had, but definitely one of the happiest) when I downsized recently. Rather than have crap delivered to my new place, I have been picking it all up randomly at the local Home Depot about seven miles from my new place.

 Sometimes it’s a great success, and sometimes it’s not so great. “Uh, I actually ordered four of these. Are the other three out back?” (Here emits an exasperated sigh by the overworked employee who goes back in search of three more semi-heavy boxes.) The problem with this also means that I am back to building furniture and following directions, talents that I only semi-possess.

 Could I go to the furniture store? Sure. I am still on the lookout for that perfect living room accent chair. However, the wait of fourteen to twenty weeks for furniture delivery really turned me off. I am tired, so very tired, of living out of boxes. I am ready to get organized.

 

The advantage to store pick-up is that I do NOT have to pay shipping fees. If I were willing to fight northbound traffic, I could even have it delivered to New Hampshire and save sales tax. The disadvantage to store pick-up is the awkward wait for the merchandise to come down from the back storage area.

 Other customers in Home Depot have been marvelously polite. “Are you in line?”  Nope. I am hiding behind the cacti display because I am trying NOT to be in line, but thank you. The last two times I’ve been in to pick up merchandise (after being helped and while waiting for the stuff to be wheeled down), I’ve taken to hiding behind the flag display, which replaced the cacti display, which replaced the lawn fertilizer display, which replaced the snow shovel display . Still, people find me. They lurk around the corners of the massive boxes and hundreds of flags, surprise me to the point where I almost pee myself, and yell, “YOU IN LINE?!”

 No, dudes. I simply have a flag fetish and I’m creeping here to mess with your minds. (Okay, I do have a flag fetish, but that’s a story for another day.)

 Thank you, Home Depot, for having things like bathroom linen cabinets and other such interesting items on your website. In the meantime, change that front display out because I’m sure I’ll need something else soon, and clearly the tall flags are not a deterrent for my in-store version of Hide-But-Don’t-Seek.

MISPRINTING MY LIFE

Apparently I will be losing a week out of my future. I discover this today while trying to write down some thoughts about a possible family adventure.

I flip through my calendar, which for the last year and a half has been basically useless during the pandemic, and I am excited because now I can start adding things to it. You know, things like: “Legally allowed to leave the state of Massachusetts,” and “Won’t be arrested for crossing the Maine border.”

I am trying to make some tentative plans for the weekend of July 24^th.  I open my calendar and discover that an entire page is missing.

That’s right: July 23^rd to July 28^th do not exist in my future. Apparently I am going to somehow teleport directly from July 22^nd until July 29^th.

I find this aggravating because I truly do want to make plans for those days. I might get on a plane. I might go kayaking. I might be setting up a tent. I might want to walk someone’s dog. I might be sipping beer at a brewery. I might be reading a book.

I cannot do any of those things if those days vaporize from my future.

I suppose I should be relieved that the calendar picks up again, so at least my hiatus appears temporary. I should also be relieved that I will never buy this brand of calendar again.

Life is short already. Let’s not add to the melodrama with a catastrophic and disconcerting printing error. Save that crap for my gravestone . . . in the future – far, far into the future.

LIMERICKS FOR FUN AND MONEY . . . OKAY, NO MONEY

My friend came to visit from Cali-
She lives somewhere near Napa Valley.

To the city we went,

By the T we were sent.

Sangria became our finale.

Last Sunday in Boston's North End:

Dinner with kids and with friends.

I ate ravioli

And got a cannoli

With statues we tried to befriend.

It's Poetry Festival time,

So I figured I'd throw you a rhyme.

On poetic scales

My poetry fails.

Bad limericks might be a crime.

DECORATING FAILS

I am no decorator. My idea of style is to get plastic shelves and call it a day. I just moved, and downsizing meant finally getting rid of functional yet old furniture and finally investing in a few newer pieces. Some stuff I refused to part with because, hey, who cares if it’s old and out of style. Right?

Well, apparently EVERYONE cares about decorating with things that are out of style.

Joanna Gaines declares that everything I do is tacky. Martha Stewart recommends that I throw a dozen different colors, fabrics, and patterns together and make my life busier than North Station after a non-pandemic  Bruins game. Every magazine I flip through looks like the 1970’s have come back to style.

Damn. If I’d just held on to my furniture, I might actually be in vogue.

But, seriously. I am posting pictures from magazines to prove my point. These “decorators” have been paid big money to create these incredibly puke-worthy styles. Truly. These rooms are butt-ugly . . . fugly, even . . . and I am supposed to  mimic this crap.

Okay, I am sorry if this is your house or if these are your friends’ houses. I mean, I’m sorry if you have to live like this or if you paid someone money to “design” this for you. It looks like designers opened up random department store catalogues from the Brady Bunch era and pretended they (re)invented the “look.” 

I also included a picture of my decorating – the blank slate. I did order a piece of furniture to put here, but I am not showing it in the blog. Unlike the “paid professionals,” I know I have tacky taste. Let’s just pretend this space looks beautiful.

DROPKICK THIS!

 Saturday night after a day of errands and family fun and predicting the Kentucky Derby winner (but, sadly, not placing any bets on it) – What should an otherwise normal person from Metro-Boston do?

May 1: Release party online for Dropkick Murphys’ new album/CD

This is not the first time, nor the second, nor even the third time that the Dropkick Murphys have entertained their fans (and others) during the pandemic. They and their sponsors deserve major kudos for entertaining us and providing some moments of normalcy during this crazy-arse time by performing LIVE via various streaming media.

I know, I know. Some of you don’t like the boys from Boston. Some of you just plain don’t like Boston.

We. Just. Don’t. Care.  Nobody cares. Your mother was probably a hamster, and your father probably smelled of elderberries.

No, truly, Bostonians who aren’t the fake nouveau-riche from Louisburg Square know the pride this band has in its roots and the good work the band members do with charities. Even better than that, the band’s live performances have been authentic, whether coming from a sparse studio setting or being performed in an empty Fenway Park.

Outsiders may ask, “What can anyone see in a locally-egocentric band that performs original material, as well as old songs and sea shanties?”

Judging from the Dropkick Murphys’ upcoming European tour, I’d say lots of people can see merit in our local boys’ style. Over 420,000 people are live-streaming tonight’s concert.

So, as I put off school / work yet again, at least I am participating in something culturally and locally significant. I highly recommend it – It’s musically sound and mentally refreshing.