We inevitably discover as we get older (and in fact, continue to discover, sometimes to our chagrin at forgetting the original premise) that nothing is permanent.
Except for the mouse on the refrigerator.
Back in the 70's, on a whim that cannot be fully explained (for what explanation can be applied to the mind of a creative 10 year old?), during a family visit to a place called Frankenmuth, I saw this fridge magnet. It was in a box near the cash register in the gift shop of a restaurant named Zehnder's (home of the largest family style chicken dinners on the planet, but that's another story). It was one of those....impulse buys that they get you with, like Ring Pops and key chains.
It wasn't anything special really....it was small, made out of pine wood with a wicked grain, and stained darker than it should probably have been....and it has little leather ears, a leather tail and a couple of pin heads for eyes. Oh, and the bottom was flat and had a magnet, of course.
Cuz it's a fridge magnet.
We were on our way up to the cabin (see previous postings for details), and it wound up on the fridge in the cabin for eight years. And then, on my way out the door heading to my Freshman year at the Northern University, I took it with me. Slipped it into my pocket. And it wound up on the dorm fridge.
And the fridge in my first apartment.
And every apartment and house afterwards.
And currently, it resides on the fridge here in the Capitol City of the Northern State.
Everybody needs some stability. Some find it in jobs; some in wives and husbands, children and pets.
Me?
Fridge magnet.
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2 comments:
i love it. it lived on eddy street did it not?
Was it in the treehouse? I don't remember it. Then again, I was drunk some of the time.
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