Horrible, Fascinating, Beautiful, Disgusting Things I Can’t Show You because my Husband Took the CameraJuly 25th, 2008
by Kaytie M. Lee
SAN DIEGO, CA-
The Nervous Breakdown’s new car smell is almost overpowering—hold on a minute while I wait for the nausea to pass.
San Diego has gone crazy this week, and it’s not just because of the ComiCon wreaking havoc on traffic and the greater Gaslamp area. For whatever reason there has been a plethora of oddities, an embarrassment of riches in absurdities, sights that, when I try to explain them, are just too out there.
Ordinarily, I’d photograph them for proof. Alas, Michael has the camera in South Carolina.
Here’s what you’re missing:
The fire across the street at the Brazilian barbecue restaurant we lovingly refer to as “All You Can Meat.” Smoke, fire engines, firemen on the rooftop directly opposite my loft, and all I could do was think, Damn, I wish I had the camera.
The fireworks over the bay at night.
The older couple who push their life-sized marionette children around in wheelchairs. Seriously, they are straight out of a psychological thriller from France. The dolls with their nutcracker jaws are in a state of advanced decay, jaundiced painted skin, their hair mussed and their clothing dirty. The woman wears smears of fuchsia lipstick while the man sports a handlebar moustache. And the girl marionette has a cast on one arm. Dear God, why?
A line stretching the length of a city block at Richard Walker’s Pancake House, home of the only breakfast worth eating in downtown San Diego…except when the line to get seated is longer than the length of time it takes to consume three pancakes, two slices of bacon, one scrambled egg, and five cups of coffee.
The legion of Heath Ledger-inspired joker costumed individuals headed up Fifth Avenue at dusk. Almost as scary as the marionettes in wheelchairs, but not quite.
The guy with no legs who pushes his wheelchair backwards across the street for some reason I’m thinking has to do with balance or a contrary perspective, not necessarily a bad thing.
The moment my nine pound dog scared a six-foot tall construction worker with her big bark.
All the cars making illegal left-hand turns off Broadway, getting tickets by the cops who just sit there, waiting. Six cars in three light cycles, in fact.
And my mad ukulele skills. Can’t record them for your amusement. I picked up the ukulele for the first time at the beginning of July and have been learning many songs ever since, including: Olivia Newton John’s “Hopelessly Devoted to You,” Boston’s “More Than a Feeling,” 4 Non-Blonde’s “What’s Going On,” and Edith Piaf’s “La Vie En Rose.” In French, of course.
All of these fascinatingly creepy, deliciously horrific things happening right inside or outside my door, and I can’t show you.
I can only tell.
It’s time to purchase my own camera.
Glad to see you all here!