Staycation 2009

The office where I work (during the day, anyhow) sits atop a lighting/furniture store. The proprietors maintain a public restroom, and don't waste the real estate in any marketing sense. The mirror and mirror's lighting are regularly replaced and--like Minnie Pearl's trademark hat--they bear price tags. I availed myself of the facilities tonight when I realized that I had arrived downstairs before my husband was there to meet me. I don't recall the coat stand in the corner of the restroom having been there the last time I checked, but I had opportunity to appraise it (and its price tag)--by mere coincidence of placement, no doubt.

From a functional standpoint, I can understand why the coat stand uses so much faux wrought iron on the base which doubles as an umbrella stand: The mass lowers it center of gravity and thus makes it more stable. However, the problem is that I can't remember owning a "full-size" umbrella since...well...it was clear plastic and had Disney characters on it. That would have been about 1971 or 1972, and Mom's side of the family still called them "bumbershoots." I remember how thrilled I was to have a prop with which to "play grown-up"...until I opened it once, and pinched my finger but good: I was leery of umbrellas for years afterward--seriously. Which I suppose makes me a tad biased on the virtues of full-size umbrellas. And I can't recall seeing too many umbrellas that aren't double-jointed nowadays. So I surmise that the design is a deliberate throwback to the days of parasols and walking sticks.

From the window shopping I do on my way up to work, much of the furniture for sale has a decidedly "antique" bent, in style and/or fake weathering. "Antique" projects the air of stability--i.e. we have roots in this place--as well as the ability to recognize quality/craftsmanship--because we all know that no one makes anything like they used to--and the security in the correctness of one's taste necessary to rise above the tyranny of fashion. All of which, when you noodle it, is almost exactly 180 degrees off our attitude toward the gadgetry we like to flash. In that case, Heaven forfend that our toys be even one-point-nine-nine-nine-nine-etc. (Although, in fairness, there is more than a little "retro" cachet to the Commodore 64. But that's only in certain circles, none of which can be called "mainstream.")

The drive (or in my case today, ride) to the beehives that needed to be checked and re-arranged is a half-hour one way. So there was time to turn that contrast over in my head. But despite that, I can't quite reconcile the dichotomy of those two value-systems. For all I know, Hegel himself might not be up to synthesizing this dialectic. Nevertheless, I think it's an interesting commentary on what people do with their disposable income--particularly when they think that other people care.