These pillowcases arrived in the mail yesterday. I snagged them on eBay for a song.
Yes, Master-Slave pillowcases from the 1950s, beautifully hand embroidered and crochet-trimmed. He’s smugly reading his science fiction, she’s exhaustedly holding a feather duster.
I put them on etsy and they sold almost instantly, for quadruple what I paid. I was kind of amazed.
Last night, having read the on-line obituary of one of my dad’s neighbors, I followed the link to the guest book at the funeral home. Instead of going to the “please share your thoughts here” page, I was taken to this:
That’s right. Cremation Jewelry. You can put ashes in a necklace or bracelet so your loved one is always with you. Your memories of the person are not enough, you must also accessorize with the dearly departed. This site also offers “Tear Jars” which are exactly what they sound like. By this site, I was completely amazed.
Rounding out my astonishment quotient this week was a photo in the Philadelphia Inquirer of the scene of yet another urban shooting. The usual impromtu memorial had sprung up on the curb: Balloons. Flowers. Candles. Teddy bears. So far, nothing surprising, all part of the American necrology, circa 2010. But at the far right edge of the teddy bear mound, sitting splay-legged and grinning hugely, was a giant stuffed Spongebob SquarePants.
Talk about cognitive dissonance. If you’re thinking of contributing a stuffed creature to a streetscape memorial, you should think twice before plopping down Spongebob. Think “somber” or at the very least “comforting,” not “insanely mocking.”
I was totally amazed.