Thursday, September 01, 2011

The Giant Walking Talking Box

Children should not call their mothers and say, "I have bad news."  Brigid called me at work with this announcement, and while I imagined the new MacBook accidentally thrown out with trash or dropped out 2nd story window, she told me about working very hard on an art project, loving the results, and then the teacher announcing  that all students were required to destroy their work--they weren't even graded!-- and recycle the scraps into a new project.  "Is that the 'bad news'?" I asked. (Somewhat callously, from her perspective.)  The new macbook is intact and no one has been gravely injured or robbed at gunpoint.  Perspective, people!

Hurricane Irene was a more or less a non-event in Charlottesville--a little wind, a little rain--but it was a different story in other parts of Virginia.  The Costly Daughter Brigid had urgent needs and I thought I could nip out to Richmond and back before the hurricane got too bad, only by the time I was in the Richmond suburbs, at 10:00am it was already raining so hard I had to get off the interstate, and--surprise!--a large tree limb was blocking the exit, but, shrieking like a teakettle,  I managed to squeeze the car around it.

One of Brigid's needs was a large box which she HAD to have by class on Monday--no exceptions!--and I couldn't blame her for not wanting to walk through a hurricane carrying a giant cardboard box, so I drove her to the U-Haul store, which is only two blocks from her apartment and we got the box, only  after we left this happened:


I know you are thinking that buying a box can't POSSIBLY be an urgent need, but we had many other things to accomplish too.  Such as buying a glue gun.  A BIG glue gun that she HAD to have by Monday--no exceptions!--for which she had already gone to Lowe's but Lowe's was sold out of big glue guns.  Where does one buy a big glue gun in a hurricane?  I decided to try Hobby Lobby because one time, at a party, a woman I met there told me that Hobby Lobby is awesome and worlds better than Michaels, only Hobby Lobby is in freaking SHORT PUMP--surely a top contender in the stupid town names of America contest--which is thirteen miles from Brigid's apartment.  So there we are driving through a monster hurricane to the Hobby Lobby in Short Pump, and I was all, "WHAT are we doing?"  So Brigid called the little art supply shop near her apartment, and, what do you know, they had a big glue gun, their very last big glue gun, which they kindly put on hold for us and I made a U-turn and headed back to the city.

We accomplished all the errands on Brigid's list, only when I was trying to get the giant box into her house, it turned into a giant sail and almost blew me off the porch.  By this time it was very stormy and the wind blew a big smack of rain into my face--it was like having someone throw a bucket of water in your face--and it ruined my new haircut.  I made my escape from Richmond in the nick of time--the trees were bending and small limbs flying through the air.

The giant box got turned into the giant art project which B was then forced to destroy.

This post's title is a reference to the Trevor Moore Show, an old public access show which featured a recurring character named the Giant Walking Talking Box, only he didn't talk that much.  Any C'villians remember the Trevor Moore Show?  It was about the only thing I liked about Charlottesville when we first moved here.

1 comment:

  1. Those are high-maintenance requests for the sake of art. Dang.
    I think I love your daughter's art teacher a little, though.

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