Saturday, January 29, 2005

If it came down to it, the Kleenex would win.

Today I saw a homeless guy on Oak Lawn with a sign that read:
"Hungry Vet. Visions of a HOT Cheeseburger. Please Help."

This sign made me think two things (neither of which had the slightest tinge of pity... sorry.)

The first was: "Dude. If it's a 'vision' of a chesseburger, how do you know it's 'hot'? They're called the five senses. Read up on 'em."

The second was: "Hey, I could go for a cheesburger right about now. But if I was going to make a sign, I'd pick a font much cooler than 'Bum W/ Sharpie Ultra Black Condensed.'" Maybe something with a serif... who knows.

I had another "Damn, I wish I had a camera" moment about two mintues later. There's this hoity-toity Bentley/Mercedes/Porshe/Other cars I'll never be able to afford dealership on Oak Lawn, and there were all these jacket-and-tie types out for test drives today. I don't need a picture of them, but I would like to have a picture of the medial strip right in front of the dealership, because there was a strategically placed box of tissues sqaring off with a just-as-strategically placed roll of toilet paper.

I mean, huh?

Is there some sort of message I'm missing here? (If I had a picture, I could maybe decipher what the artist was aiming for. I'd at least have more time to scratch my head about it.) It was pretty cool, though, to see the jacket-and-ties going about their test-driving business, all "look at me, throwing this Bentley into reverse without the slightest concern that someone on Oak Lawn might actually be trying to get somewhere and could be hindered by my carefree display of auto ballet on a major Dallas thoroughfare," while, on a medial strip mere feet away, some weird installation art/social commentary/creative use of sanitary paper products was in full swing. The juxtaposition was fascinating.

In other news, this week I: was named the design equivalent of "assistant to the regional manager," got scammed out of a sum that will go unmentioned for reasons of pride and sanity, sulked a lot, was pelted in the face with a teal-colored balloon, got an e-mail from Wonderboy5000, and was told, via a "number-1 bestseller," that I am a domestic at heart and that, if I don't already like spending time in the kitchen, I should read a book about cooking, because that's all I've got to look forward to.

Rock.