Monday, June 12, 2006

Even flamingos get the blues



I've always been of the mind that reality is a matter of perspective. I have no formal training in Quantum Physics, but I'm pretty sure it backs me up on this.

Which brings me to this blue flamingo. Tess and I have worked a daily (or nightly) walk into our exercise regime. We walk around the neighborhood and usually swing by the grocery store before heading home. It is a nice way to get some exercise, see the neighborhood and catch up with each other on our day. Yesterday I brough along my digital camera.

"What's the camera for," Tess asked.

"I'm an artist. I see art in everyday life and you never know what we'll discover."

Tess nodded. She is used to my delusional behaviour.

We walked and occasionally I snapped a photo of random leaves.


But then I saw the plastic lawn flamingo. I am fascinated by the psychological motivation to place such things in your front yard. Usually a plastic flamingo is accompanied by daisy pinwheels, plastic squirrels, a lawn jockey and, if you are really lucky, a family of garden gnomes. I am convinced that these things have some DaVinci Code like significance that I'm not privy to. Perhaps they are markers, similar to crop circles that allow the white trash to mark their homes to be easily identifiable to other white trash (as if the rusted car bodies and overgrown lawns aren't enough).

So I quickly snapped the flamingo's photo and told Tess we needed to move along quickly before someone in the neighborhood became curious and wanted to know why I was taking a photo of a lawn flamingo. This could have led to a confrontation if I was forced to explain my white trash theories to the owner of the flamingo.

Tess just shook her head and suggested we needed to get home and mow the lawn. Tess has become obsessed with our front lawn and beauty bark since we moved in. But that's a whole other blog post.


When we got back to our house I snapped one last photo of some lilies that I am convinced are the same flowers that sapped Mr. Spock with some of these spores in one of the original episodes of Star Trek. The spores made him act human and recite poetry and other crap like that. I told Tess we needed to watch out for them. She ignored me and went to get the lawn mower.

I rushed upstairs and uploaded the images from my digital camera into Photoshop to search for clues. It was when I started messing with hues and such on the flamingo photo that I turned it blue. I had never seen a blue pink flamingo before. This struck me as a major discovery (note to self: copyright blue pink flamingos...subnote to self: googled blue flamingos and the bastards out there have beat me to it...in fact there are virtually references to all color flamingos with the exception of Burnt Sienna Flamingo...note to self: copyright Burnt Sienna Flamingos).

I went outside to tell Tess about the blue flamingo and she handed me the lawnmower. I mowed the backyard. The plus side was that the neighbor's dog hadn't crapped on our grass this week.

I ended up grilling a pork tenderloin, some corn and some yams. Then I settled back to watch the season opener of Deadwood and then Entourage. Al Swearinger stills cusses up a blue streak, but the first episode was kind of confusing and uneventful. Entourage was okay though.

What does any of this have to do with a blue flamingo? Absolutely nothing. But I thought it added an interesting perspective to what was a pretty ordinairy day.

I'm working on Burnt Sienna Flamingo t-shirts if anyone is interested.
Post a Comment