One Feisty Blog

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Wednesday, March 22, 2006

The Tack Room

I don't want to be filthy, stinking rich. I'm convinced that it would do me more harm than good in the long run--camels and eyes of needles and all that, you know.

I don't need to be wealthy, but I do hope that I'm one day well-off enough to fulfill my life-long dream. I want to be rich enough to buy a house that has a room that I don't need for anything. I want a house with a room that can be devoted to one unique, pointless purpose.

I want a Tacky Room.

I want a room I can wallpaper in red velvet and gold on one wall and pyschedellic 60s flowers on another. A room with two doors would be best, so one entry can have swinging saloon doors and one can have beads like Greg's attic room in the Brady Bunch. I need a room with rainbow shag carpet.

I want a room I can fill with the silliest, tackiest tchotchkes ever invented. A room where I can put the chaise lounge in the shape of a stilletto-heeled shoe, covered in leopard print faux fur (I've yearned for it since I saw it in a boutique window in Cannon Beach years ago). I'll have an entire orchestra full of those embalmbed frogs with wooden musical instruments you can buy in Mexico. I'll have a whole collection of figurines of animals engaged in improbable activities and wearing unusual outfits. I'll have a "Hang in There" kitten poster in an ostentatious gold frame. I'll have china cabinet full of "Number #1 ________" mugs. I'll have a shelf devoted to quilted toilet paper cozies. I'll have library of cookbooks devoted to Jell-o. A closet full of fuzzy cartoon character slippers. There will be a giant velvet painting of Elvis and Jesus playing poker with dogs in visors--I'll commission it if I must, but I'm sure someone is selling it out of the back of a van somewhere in Pennsyltucky.

It will be my very own Gallery of the Absurd. A Museum of Modern Tack. I bet I could charge admission!

There's just one problem: how do handle it when someone asks me why their very thoughtful Christmas gift is on a shelf in my Tacky Room? There's not a diplomat on earth who would be able to salvage that situation.

5 Comments:

  • Yes Vir . . . Gina: There is a tacky room.

    I don't remember if they charge an entrance fee. It's a place called Graceland, and velvet pictures of its founder with our lord, with dogs playing poker or without, are likely revered with special honor.

    By Blogger Unknown, at 4:32 PM  

  • Well, Graceland isn't a Tacky Room, it's Tacky Mansion. I don't aspire to that level of greatness. I just want one room to contain the tack. Hopefully one day, the rest of my house will be tack-free, and one room will be devoted to concentrated tack.

    (Of course, by definition, this will have to be after YOU move out.)

    By Blogger Unknown, at 9:52 AM  

  • Can I just give you ALL of the tacky stuff I get for Christmas and birthday's? My aunt is the queen of tacky gifts! Thank goodness she just gives ornaments now! YAY!

    I Gina girl! I have been reading your blog for a week or so now and never had the gull to say hi! To be honest, I didn't know if you'd remember me. Glad to see that you do, and I love your guts very much too! (Was that the beginings of a song? I think I might finish writing it one day. Just know that you were my inspiration!)

    Thanks for the V.B.S. craft ideas! Thanks for loving me! Thanks for rmembering me! Thanks for commenting me! Thanks for saying hi to my family! Thanks for saying my lukie is lucky! Thanks for hugging you brother, mom and dad for me! Thanks for liking my puppy! Thanks for having a blog! And thanks for being as cool as ever! LOVE your blog!

    Let's do this again sometime!

    Lovies, Kara (Sellers) Deal

    By Blogger Kara Deal, at 9:19 PM  

  • Kara, you're going to have to stop being so darn adorable--the rest of us poor slobs can't keep up! Seriously, you're one of those people who make me happier just by existing. And anyone who doesn't feel the same way (ignorant coworkers) is just not very bright.

    And you really must write that song some day. I smell a #1 Single!

    I'm so glad I found your blog--it makes me smile to read what you write because you write like you talk and it makes me feel like we're chatting.

    By Blogger Unknown, at 9:43 AM  

  • you just say to the person who gave you the gift, "well, i had to put at least ONE classy item in the room or someone would have me commited!"

    By Blogger rebecca marie, at 2:37 PM  

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