I thank the gods of reproduction every day that my kids are dorks. In a rare moment not spent in front of a computer or gaming system, my husband took them to an outdoor sporting shop and snapped this pic of them several years ago. Here, they are pretending to be bad asses but they are so clearly uncomfortable being away from their books and handheld devices. They are likely thrilled that these monster machines are not actually moving as that would require that they demonstrate some sort of physical talent like balance or strength.
It is all going just as I’d planned; I’d make them dorky so they, in turn, wouldn’t be reproducing at an age that would give me stress. I don’t even want them to date until they’ve moved out and headed off to college. Even then, I may invest in the purchase of some chastity belts. A prude I am not, but grandmother material I am also not. Additionally, I strongly believe that those who suffer social persecution through middle school and high school come out of it with a very strong sense of self assuredness, humor and are maybe a little more “twisted” than their unruffled quarterback/cheerleader neighbors. Watch any John Hughes or Michael Cera movie and tell me if I’m wrong.
With their love of Pokémon, Minecraft, Dinosaurs (my daughter’s passion), Natural Science and Dr. Who, it would seem that I have succeeded in making them unappealing to members of the opposite sex who are glomming on to fast cars, strong pours and downright hooliganism (that may be a bit of an exaggeration since my oldest is only 13). Yay me. But I realized yesterday that while I am certainly responsible for their geekiness, it is not because I have strategically planted these ideas of nerdiness in spite of my own super coolness. It is because I too practice my hobbies with a passion that rivals all those in cosplay at last years Comic-Con.
My obsession of choice? Mid-Century Design. As I was rifling through one of my favorite shops the other day, Atomic Junkies in it’s new Winter Park location, I was astounded at how completely overtaken with lust I was. Lust for these THINGS. An encompassing desire for furnishings that were on their second, third and fourth lives after having been lovingly curated by Steve, the shop’s owner. In the same way that my kids collect video game accoutrement and Poké-cards, I am feverishly planning my collection of Danish and American Mid-Century accessories and furnishings.
While at my Central Florida Modern club meeting this past Tuesday (yes, I’m in a C L U B with like-minded goobers), which was held at the fabulous Modern Redemption store in College Park, I began to catalogue my wants and needs for the home I am in the process of purchasing. I’ve had to remind myself that I have a TON of furniture in the garage or in storage units that just needs refinishing or reupholstering and that I do not need to purchase anything new at this time. I also realized that as my friends and fellow club members spoke of their own favorite possessions, the discussions never focused on bragging about the expense of items or the price tag of the amazing architectural work of art that they called home. It was always about the “find”. Our greatest stories all had the common thread of stumbling upon or even being given, their favorite elements of great design.
I did make some small purchases at that meeting (see below inset of china and the shoji glasses) but immediately upon arriving home I began to scour Craigslist. I found some old office chairs whose size, shape and color would be perfect in my family room. With a price tag of $60, I had no choice to but to text the seller immediately and arrange a pick up, three days in the future. Within those three days of waiting for my new conquest, I saw the chairs being used on the set of a new t.v. show I’m watching (a Marvel comic adaptation of course) AND the exact same coupling of chairs was being offered at a great local shop for $350. My response is this…SCORE!!!
It is this sense of satisfaction combined with my obsession for simple and clean design, that keeps me hooked. It keeps me searching. It forces me to gamble on each purchase, hoping that what I have collected is not garbage, but art that has value.
I praise and give thanks to Robert Smith and Stan Lee and William Shatner that I have found my mate and that he shares this passion with me. For otherwise, it would seem I would be destined to my children’s fate of being completely unappealing to the opposite sex. I have had to get real with myself over the last few days. My kids never stood a chance at being the cool kids or the bad boys (girl) for it is not in spite of me that they are the best kinds of geeks, but because of me. Luckily, there are worse fates.