Worthless Consumption, or Why Greed is Good
It was love at first sight.
The minute I saw her in the aisle, I fell madly in love with her.
She came in a plastic-wrapped cardboard box, with a glitzy painting of her flying through the clouds under a sexy "HEINKEL He-219 A-7 UHU" label. There was just one problem: she was $54. Minus tax.
The first time I saw this mode, it was considerably cheaper, and I passed it up. The next time I saw it, I wanted it, but the price had gone up so I passed. The last time...well, goddamnit, I couldn't get it out of my head. I don't think my own surprise at plunking down the cash for it exceeded the cashier's, especially since it looks like it follows the two Golden Laws of modeling:
1.) If a model looks easy, it's hard.
2.) If a model looks hard, it's *really* fricking hard.
This is a number 2, which means that I'll probably want to smash it into polywhatever shrapnel inside an hour, yet I know that we were made for each other. Honestly.
Ah...but maybe not. If you've ever made a model, you know that for all the infuriating details, building one can be deeply relaxing, almost meditative. The time your focusing on that little hunk of plastic is time you're not thinking about taxes, or your love life, or what the hell you're still doing at ______ when you're _____. Some people knit, others play solitaire or puzzles, and I do models, though they're still rare enough to be treats; if there were an AD as effective as building a model, I'd buy Pfizer stock.
The spree wasn't quite over after the model, though, as I stopped by Half-Price (an evil, evil store for any book fanatic) and got yet another book that had been nagging me for weeks, an Eastern Front chronology full of nuggets like "Bryansk Front losses thus far in 1942 amount to 21,319 killed and missing and 39,807 wounded." Ninety-nine percent of the three people who read this blog will find that horribly dry, which is why you didn't buy it.
Anyways, that does it for my rant. Sois sage!
Much Love, TWIMC,
-John
The minute I saw her in the aisle, I fell madly in love with her.
She came in a plastic-wrapped cardboard box, with a glitzy painting of her flying through the clouds under a sexy "HEINKEL He-219 A-7 UHU" label. There was just one problem: she was $54. Minus tax.
The first time I saw this mode, it was considerably cheaper, and I passed it up. The next time I saw it, I wanted it, but the price had gone up so I passed. The last time...well, goddamnit, I couldn't get it out of my head. I don't think my own surprise at plunking down the cash for it exceeded the cashier's, especially since it looks like it follows the two Golden Laws of modeling:
1.) If a model looks easy, it's hard.
2.) If a model looks hard, it's *really* fricking hard.
This is a number 2, which means that I'll probably want to smash it into polywhatever shrapnel inside an hour, yet I know that we were made for each other. Honestly.
Ah...but maybe not. If you've ever made a model, you know that for all the infuriating details, building one can be deeply relaxing, almost meditative. The time your focusing on that little hunk of plastic is time you're not thinking about taxes, or your love life, or what the hell you're still doing at ______ when you're _____. Some people knit, others play solitaire or puzzles, and I do models, though they're still rare enough to be treats; if there were an AD as effective as building a model, I'd buy Pfizer stock.
The spree wasn't quite over after the model, though, as I stopped by Half-Price (an evil, evil store for any book fanatic) and got yet another book that had been nagging me for weeks, an Eastern Front chronology full of nuggets like "Bryansk Front losses thus far in 1942 amount to 21,319 killed and missing and 39,807 wounded." Ninety-nine percent of the three people who read this blog will find that horribly dry, which is why you didn't buy it.
Anyways, that does it for my rant. Sois sage!
Much Love, TWIMC,
-John