A Groovy Kind of Love

Posted by jdg | Monday, August 07, 2006 |

We spent the weekend packing up all our stuff, which, for a pack rat like me, meant that in 48 hours I only got through about half of the seventeen shoeboxes filled with random shit I've accumulated since I moved into this apartment four years ago. It also meant that our junk-covered floors became a mine field for Juniper, further complicated by the fact that lately she has been an active participant in that inane toddler activity of lurching around the apartment with a blanket over her head, or, even better, the old bowler hat I found in my closet that pretty much covers her head completely. Next weekend I'm going to paint a face on her bare torso and just let her walk around like a character from Lidsville, tripping over everything. Who needs acid when you have a kid!

While not laughing at Juniper as she stumbled over the detritus of our sorting, we were totally laughing at some of the stuff we found that had been forgotten. For example, I found my best Halloween costume ever, which was also pretty cheap to make. In October 2002, I was browsing through a thrift store for costume ideas and not coming up with much, so I abandoned the costume hunt and tried to salvage the trip by looking for a couple cool records. While thumbing through the moldy cardboard album covers it hit me: who is the bane of every thrift store record collection (besides Boz Skaggs)? Phil Collins, of course. And when I saw his extremely sweaty, intense face on the cover of No Jacket Required, I knew that with a 25 cent piece of elastic string, I had my costume.

I originally wore it with a cheesy black turtleneck. Here I am last night, serenading Wood with an a cappella version of "Another Day in Paradise." Later, she requested an encore of "Sussudio."

Juniper, given her predilection for self-imposed blindness, has also been stumbling around the apartment wearing this mask that only affords its wearer peripheral vision. I would have put a photo of that up here, but it is far, far too creepy. A sweaty Phil Collins midget wearing only a diaper is too much for anyone to take.