Thursday, December 31, 2009
Roooooxanne, You Don't Have to Put Out the Red Light
My bedroom is a red-light district.
See that alarm clock on the nightstand? The one with the 2.5-inch tall numbers? Yeah, that puts out a heavy red glow to rival the Kenny Rogers Roasters neon sign in that old "Seinfeld" episode. I'm fairly sure that planes passing overhead can tell what time it is.
The clock was supposed to be a gag Christmas gift from my parents, but I love it. You see, (I really don't) this was purchased from a Web site for the hearing and sight-impaired, which I am. I'm woefully nearsighted and have worn glasses since first grade. The numbers on this clock are big enough that, if I squint, I can tell what time it is even with the clock pushed to the nightstand's edge.
That was cool Christmas gift No. 1.
The second? Well, this rockin' bike from my Spousal Unit. I've been pining for a beach cruiser with a big-butt seat ever since we went to San Diego two years ago, and I enviously watched those carefree girls cruise down the strand. I named it Pinkie Bikeadero. That would be a "Happy Days" reference to Pinkie Tuscadero, for those of you whose golden age of TV wasn't in the '70s.