Twenty-Two Years Of ZZ Marriage


Circumstances used to demand the ZZ marriage from everybody. You couldn’t run around assembling and disassembling your affairs all over the landscape over and over. You placed your bets and you took your chances and you stuck to it. Sometimes the chances were pretty slim. You always stayed until closing even if your chips were gone in the first five minutes.

I’ve got a ZZ marriage. It is not required any more. No one would much bat an eye socially or otherwise if we parted. There is no disapprobation, even on purely practical grounds, to keep us together.

I do not understand my wife, and have no desire to. I am not a vivisectionist of her personality. The patient always dies in that situation, after all. I am not explaining my situation here; I am simply observing it. I can tell you that I have an enormously defective personality, and she don’t seem to care. I don’t know why that is, either.

Poor people, dumb people, sick people, interesting or dull people, all sorts of people, no matter how straitened their circumstances, no matter how hard-hammered by life they were, got a chance to do something sublime in their life. For many, it is the only really transcendent thing they will ever be allowed to attempt; opportunities to win a Congressional Medal of Honor or a Pulitzer Prize or something aren’t just lying around, never mind the actual article.

I’ve had an interesting life so far, I guess. It’s not over yet. I could tell you wild tales, many of them true. Nothing compares to my ZZ marriage. It’s made all the more piquant by the fact that no one is making us do it.

Babble Of The Bends. Bateau Of The Blands. Baffle Of The Blends. Whatever

Bird Dog at Maggie’s Farm sent me a video of Lez Zeppelin. He heard them play live at his friend’s birthday party. He was smitten, or smote, or amused or something.

Of course, Bird Dog has learned many times that it’s dangerous to tell me something interesting, because it’s sure to immediately remind me of four things that are not interesting. This is not one of those times.

It’s time for a good old Battle of the Bands. We must determine what the finest substitute for Led Zeppelin might be. It is especially important to find a fine substitute for Led Zeppelin, because Led Zeppelin isn’t any good, and never was. If we don’t find an amusing substitute for them, we’re stuck listening to them.

Ladies and gentlepeople. Contestant One. Lez Zeppelin!

Pretty fair there. Not bad. A little too masculine for the subject material. I like my hard rock bands on the fruity side. They could all beat up Jimmy Page on his best day.

Next; Contestant Two. Legion of Rock Stars!

Now we’re getting somewhere. That brings something to the cover band table. It steals the salt shakers and half the silverware, and puts all the extra rolls in its pockets before it leaves, but while it’s there, it brings it. The trumpet is a nice touch. It insists upon itself. 
 

We’re going international now. The big guns. Contestant Number 3. Leningrad Cowboys!

Sublime. Sub-everything, now that I think of it. Cooler than a banker’s palm. Hotter than a babysitter. Dressed sharper than an Italian on payday. Gonna be hard to beat.

But I think Contestant 4 can do it. Ladies, Gentlemen, and everyone that uses the third bathroom at the commie bookstore in Portland, I give you Dread Zeppelin!

An Elvis impersonator in a reggae band doing Zeppelin covers. Admit it, you don’t hate them because they’re beautiful, you only hate them because you didn’t think of it first.

Well, let’s hear it in the comments, people. Who’s the greatest substitute for Led Zeppelin? Whoever wins, we’ve all already won, as we avoided listening to the subject material — actual Led Zeppelin music — which is uniformly dreadful.

So Vote! But remember: No wagering.

Any Fool Can Make Something More Complex; But It Takes Real Genius To Make Something Simple Again

The commendable fellow in the video is making: treenware.

treen, small wooden objects
in daily domestic or farm use and in use in trades and professions.
Treen includes a wide variety of objects mostly associated with
tableware, the kitchen, games, personal adornment, and toilet articles.
The word is never applied to objects larger than a spinning wheel and
does not include objects designed primarily for ornament. (Britannica)

When I see an ironic-looking fellow sporting muttonchop sidewhiskers and pedaling a single-speed bike, wearing Clark Kent glasses, with a six-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon under his arm, unstructured scarf flapping in the breeze, I’m often reminded of people like our pole lathe turner. I wonder if anyone else is.

People seek authenticity in their lives. Authenticity is often equated with simplicity. Steve Jobs glommed onto the idea of never showing any screws on the outside of his wares to give the user the impression of a monolithic apparatus, not a machine. It’s fake simplicity, but so what? As they say, If you don’t have good manners, pretend you do; it’s the same thing.

Counterintuitively, simplicity also lends itself to originality in manufacture. You’d think that a lack of ornament would limit uniqueness. And that fellow is trying to make everything exactly the same way, every time — but he’s failing utterly and wonderfully. A human can’t do the exact same thing twice like a machine can, and the wood wouldn’t allow uniformity anyway; no two pieces of wood are identical. Everything you make is one-of-a-kind. I’ve made hundreds of tables. No two of them are remotely the same. I’ll go further, and aver that each has a kind of personality, revealed in working on them. They all have opinions about the weather, and think they have a “good side,” like a teenager being photographed. The pieces of a table will fight with you if you don’t listen to them.

People can’t all make everything for themselves, or there would only be room for a few million people on earth. But the urge is there, a kind of respect, and straphangers use the power of their purses to rub elbows with authenticity as a worthy substitute for doing it themselves.

(thanks to reader and commenter and customer and friend JHC for sending that one along)

Month: October 2012

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