Sometimes I really wonder about myself. And
my sense of style, whether I have good taste or not. The sensibilities I posses often seem to be more appropriate for say, a six year old, than the grown up I thought I saw the last time I looked in the mirror.
I spied a coconut monkey bank at the thrift store Friday, and, defying any rational explanation, the attraction was instantaneous. I bet they sell these monkey banks in Hawaii, and I could have gotten one there. Still. This little guy was only .99 cents and I didn’t have to worry about packing him in my carry-on bag. (Can a coconut monkey bank be used as a weapon? These days, you just never know.)
I showed my prize to my daughter Amy. What’s that thing sticking out of his neck? She was puzzled. And frankly, so was I. I ventured several guesses. The tassel to the monkey’s hat, perhaps? An earring-missing its mate? (Do monkeys wear earrings? And for that matter, do monkeys wear hats and little round glasses?)
The truth is, I didn’t know. My rule of thumb is that when the price tag on something you love is a penny shy of a buck, you don’t ask a lot of questions.
As I often do when I find a treasure like this, I go to the internet for more information. And so I decided to search online for some coconut monkey bank enlightenment. I learned that the mysterious object in question is a pipe. And despite the surgeon general’s warning that smoking is a bad habit that might harm my coconut monkey, I am ecstatic. That pipe dates this fellow to the 60’s, and that means my coconut monkey bank is now, instead of merely a second-hand tacky tourist souvenir, a cool iconic piece of vintage Hawaiian kitsch.
For ninety-nine cents!
Happy Monday, and here’s wishing all of you a lucky week!