I have ideas, you see. Well, it’s only to be expected – I’m retired and my mind is not required to worry about other people’s money or health – so I’m free to fret about my own.
But I don’t.
I have long realised that mostly it all proceeds on an even keel if you do not go to excess in anything. I’ve even cut down on my moderation. It’s meant a loss in income for the gin joints and the gals of easy reputation, but on the other hand I can spend the money on toy cars and model airplanes. The lady at the hobby shop is starting to wink at me as she operates the till…
Now back to the idea. I have a collection of model airplanes on model airfields. I know a number of flashy females who dance, pose, and generally glam it up all round the shop. So I have decided to combine the two by making the ladies into WWII ” nose art ” on the airplanes. There’ll be an exhibition in June at the belly dancing convention and then I’ll post the pictures on the toy and model photography pages.
Already I have 8 images completed and I haven’t even started shooting the fresh material – good glamour is ageless and older pictures are just as good as new ones when you make them into posters.
Of course, there are sacrifices. I am now compelled to go to the hobby shop and buy more model kits so as to have enough noses for all the girls. I shall have to spend my waking hours chained to the model bench or the studio shooting for the exhibition. I will only take time out to eat, drink, sleep, and read racy novels.
After all, I have a duty to culture, eh?
I posted a picture taken last night at a dance show on Facebook – later taking it as my new profile picture – and raised the question of normal people…none of whom I really count amongst my circle of acquaintance. One of my friends then asked me to define normal people and I’ve had to give it some thought. The best I can do is list what normal people do:
- Normal people cut the grass and trim the edges and weed the garden bed every week to make sure that they present a respectable appearance in the street.
- Normal people drive normal cars so that they present a respectable appearance on the street.
- Normal people wash the car every weekend so that they present a respectable appearance in the street.
- Normal people dress in the currently fashionable clothing so that they present a respectable appearance in the street.
- Normal people engage in mainline activities so that they present a respectable appearance in the street.
You might think that the common thread here is respectability, but I submit that the common thread here is the street. Normal people are playing to an audience – the street – and are engaged in a theatre of deception as much as any strolling player. They do not seek applause – merely respectability. The strangest thing is that if you went to them and expressed respect specifically they would startle and run. They’d know the jig was up…
In contrast, I form my acquaintance amongst people who:
- Leave the lawn and garden to deal with itself. They have far too many other occupations to spend time trying to make the front of the house look like a picture on a seed packet.
- Drive cars that make them horny. They also make other people horny. Air-horny, in some cases…
- Wash the car when it needs it. Some cars need less washing than others. They are not above doing little touch-upo jobs on the paint either…
- Dress in the current fashion, but adjust the dial on the current so that it runs either slower or faster than it does for other people.
- Indulge themselves with art, thought, action, and achievement far away from the mainstream of sport and greed.
I have been immensely enriched by all the people I surround myself with. Sometimes I forget this but pertinent questions like those asked by Ken Barker and Marvin Brown can re-focus my thoughts. I am grateful for that. And, no, they are not normal people either, I am happy to say…
Well sir, you want to keep your wits about you these days. You never can tell when someone is trying to pull the wool over your eyes.
I called in at a place in Cannington this afternoon to look at the cars. This chap…called himself ” Bill “* …was right there next to the old wooden fence. Said he had gotten a good deal on a Rolls Royce. Would I like to take a look…?
Well, of course you would jump at a chance like that. How many times in your life do you get to see a Rolls Royce? And if the price was right to start with…
Well, I knew I should have been suspicious when he said it was a bit of a ” fixer-upper “. I’ve had experience with British motor cars before when the owners have told me that they need a little garage work. I remember trying to buy a small English sports car in the mid 1980’s and answering a couple of dozen advertisements in the ” SUNDAY TIMES “. I went out to see Austin-Healey Sprites and Triumph Spitfires and various models of MG. Some of ’em looked fine on the outside but then you looked under the bonnet and they started to look like lunchtime in the Lucas factory…wires everywhere. The owners were all insistent that I inspect the log books and garage receipts so that I would be impressed by how good the cars were. When you see a loose-leaf binder overstuffed with repair receipts it tells you something alright – it tells you that the mechanical device you are looking at needs to be repaired constantly, and that you will be the next fool that pours his purse into the petrol tank…
I eventually concluded that buying a small sports car was asking for trouble…indeed paying for it. I went off and sought other ways to be unhappy.
Okay, back to Cannington this afternoon. Fortunately I took my Fujifilm X-T10 along with me, though I seem to have left it on the black and white setting after the last boudoir shot. I need to put an orange tag on the camera strap to alert me to this so I do not shoot the wrong setting in future. In any case the accompanying photos will let you see what a shocking state this car has gotten into.
I am surprised that this sort of thing does not attract police attention. We are always bombarded with safety advice about not falling prey to scams, but what is to protect the innocent car enthusiast from this sort of thing?
I made my excuses and left, clutching my wallet tight to my hip pocket as I went. I will take particular care not to be taken in again. This sort of small-scale fraud is the sort of thing that gives used-car dealing a bad name.
- Obviously an alias…probably named William.