As some of you may know, I am borderline obsessed with The Antiques Roadshow.
I can’t help it. It’s just so fascinating, watching these people haul in their junk hoping to score big with their great great grandma’s Eisenhower Era doily collection.
I could go on forever, but I’ll get straight to the point. Tonight’s installment brought my beloved Roadshow to Las Vegas.
That’s right – Vegas, baby, Vegas!
Cliches aside – and I hate to be a dick, here. But some of those people on the show tonight - pimping out their trinkets - well you could just tell the way their eyes lit up so bright – you could just tell when they found out that Great Aunt Gwendolyn’s Victorian Parasol was worth a couple hundred bucks - you could just tell they were ready and willing to sell that thing right there on the spot and cash it in for a few chips and a couple o’ rolls at the Craps table so’s they could parlay their antiques into brand new big screen TeeVee a new super-jet hot tub for the redwood deck.
You just know it.
Unrelated, I am typing from my old cranky-ass 1972 Texas Instruments Calculator of a computer tonight. I miss my shiny new lightening fast laptop.
Yeah - what about the brand new super-duper laptop provided by the big corporation that employs me?
Well, it’s a catch 22. Call them crazy but a lot of times when I bring it home, work kinda counts on me to use it for you know, work, see. And I already had her home all weekend and did nuthin’. Showed up this morning empty handed. So, you know, sometimes it’s just best to leave that corpse to rot and suffer through 2 minute page downloads on Bessie 2.0.
Yeah, I know, I sooo suffer for my art.