Not Pictured: The Great Gumball Fakeout!

A number of weeks ago, I attended the opening for Dan's installation (and the new Andy Warhol exhibit) at the Montclair Art Museum in Montclair, NJ.  You may recall I helped "weed" stickers for his piece a while back.



The photos I took of the artwork look great, but the photos I took in the reception hall came out either dark and murky (no flash) or harsh and unflattering (with flash).  So I'll just tell you (instead of showing you a crummy picture) that there was a nice selection of flavored puddings in shot glasses and delicious cookies to enjoy, as well as fruit, vegetables, and cheese.

There were also tall glass vases filled with large, round balls.  Attractive as decoration, the vases contained serving tongs, so the "balls" were clearly meant to be eaten.  And my dad and I both took some assuming they were malted milk balls or chocolates of some sort.  But they were gumballs.  Giant gumballs.

Gumballs, when one is in the mood for them, can be delightful.  BUT gumballs are chewed over time and keep one's mouth occupied.  You don't just eat a gumball and then move on to the pudding.  And a gumball is seldom found on a buffet at a reception.  It made for a surprising moment in my mouth, and (because I stood near the table and watched other guests) in the mouths of many attendees.  Most of the adults chewed a few times, looked surprised, and headed for the trash can.

It wasn't bad gum, of course, but there were cookies to be eaten!

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Gum Bums

Fresh on the heels of Lunch Club's success at the office, Ian and I have put together a Gum Fund. There's a kitty for spare change and the eventual purchasing of gum. We finally saved enough for our first pack this week. As Orbit Citrus Mint was unavailable (Ian's choice), I chose Strawberry Mint. Ian made a lot of noise about my innovation, but I didn't think it was half bad.

I'm entrusting you with this photo of the secret location of our purchased gum. But if any goes missing, I'm pointing fingers at you, blog audience!

Poetry Tuesday: Scent Memory

In my skin I am a small grey box
of scented gum. I say OPEN HERE
and still you hesitate to open me

and I do not open there. I open
elsewhere.

Along one careful, high-strung edge
I open. Inside I am old incense,
a shop selling velvet dresses, the
cinnamon sticks we chewed. I am in college.
I held your hand and felt protected.

We sat in movies and did not speak;
I borrowed your shirt and you could not wash it
because the smell of me was fine.

So, I'm a little square. I taste perfumed.
The color of me waits patiently.
I can be hard to take.
And then there's softening, and sighs to chew,
and you and I just do not last. We almost never were.
Our time is up. Or things are stickier, at least.

How do I resist rewarding you while becoming everything you wish?

Snacks I Found in Bowls at Work Today

Gum (Winter Fresh is my favorite flavor of Extra, except for when I prefer the original pink kind). However -- who puts gum in a bowl? This is not a rhetorical question. I would like to know.




Goldfish Crackers (Not shown: bowl).

Double your monkeys; double your glum.

Chewing this gum was a taste experience. Here's what I experienced: banana....fake banana...okay...um...banana flavored dirt....dirt...plastic bananas...plastic...plastic dirt...gross. And then I spit it out. And then I threw the rest of the gum away.

In short: Double Monkey gum is gross.