Sillybean

Contemplating the monkey

I can’t stop thinking about the process that led to a ceramic monkey trash can arriving on the shelves at Target. I mean, let’s take another look at this thing:

Someone designed that. (“What is missing from my monkey trash can? YES. A banana. That’s it. My work here is done.”) And furthermore, someone else approved the design (“Why yes, this is good, there are Americans who will pay money for this.”) and sent it off to a manufacturing division somewhere. And someone in the manufacturing division said, “Plastics will not do justice to this objet d’art. We need to CLASS THIS BITCH UP. Boys, fire up the kiln.”

And you know what? They were all right. There were at least two Americans who were willing to pay money for this, once it went on the clearance rack. And I have the everlasting joy, the deep-seated satisfaction, of knowing that I married one of them. And that? Is priceless.

ETA: Michael informs me that it’s made of plastic after all — which, I’m sorry, demotes the thing to mere kitsch — and that it’s part of a truly horrifying collection.