I know, I know. What about all those ridiculous, over-worn clothes I don, each a nod to some long-gone, happily-forgotten era?
Well, I'm not talking clothes.
I'm talking itching powder and poo poo cushions, monkey-ball magnets and inflatable wigs. I'm talking wind-up fire-spewing Godzillas and five-function pens, 3-D cameras and electronic bubble-wrap keychains.
Like I said, this is not haute couture. This is "School of Silly Walks" serious.
It's a love that was fostered long ago on the 1400 block of "O" Street, in a little shop just west of the State Theater. Lincoln's Downtown Joke Shop was like a magnet to all people under the age of 20. There, in its crowded, happy space, with the kind, old woman behind the counter, a kid could find fake cigarettes and magic tricks, monster masks and snapping gum.
It was like porn for preteens.
And I, for one, was very, very happy there.
Just like I'm very, very happy at Avant Card, my hands languishing over the Nancy Pearl Librarian Action Figurine (I already have two, but you never know). There, in that happy, quirky place that even plays great music, I feel. . . not at home so much as in heaven.
Rocket Fizz also scratches where I itch, especially with its massive collection of candies that take me back to my Ben Franklin glory days. There, the sirens that pull me from my mast have names like Chik-o-Stik and Mallo Cup, whose very names are like love songs warming my lips.
I've even managed to find solace online, thanks to places like Archie McPhee and ThinkGeek. McPhee also has a swell catalog, reminiscent of Johnson-Smith's glory years. Why, just yesterday, I was fortunate enough--fortunate enough!--to get free shipping from ThinkGeek because they had $40 worth of stuff that I just had to have. With any luck, by this time next week (alas, "free shipping" is not synonymous with "quick shipping"), a glorious brown box with my name on it will be placed on our side porch, a cornucopia of treasures tucked inside.
By this time next week, when a chocolate craving hits, I'll satisfy it not with an Almond Snickers but, rather, with a quick inhale of my Le Whif Breathable Chocolate Tube.
Like I said, turns out I really am a bit of a shopper. And a darned good one, too.
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