Needs vs Wants, pt. 1

Remember those old Dymo Labelmakers that were shaped like a gun and emitted sticky embossed plastic tape with whatever message you wanted on them? And how the “G” always looked like “C” (which was no small problem for the “G”erneths)? And how the sticky stuff would get unsticky on one corner and the label would start to peel off? And how the letters were never evenly spaced, and how you made your hand so tired writing anything of substance?

I want one.

My old one is gone. It was in my childhood desk next to my sealing wax (remember THAT? It was a big fad in the 1960s and sold at Hallmark shops–I had my initial in two forms, a Pisces fish, and a LOVE in those puffy Love Story letters) and my decks of playing cards with cool graphics (I had several that I never used because they were so pretty, and three decks of “Schlumberger” cards that Daddy got in France and that I have never seen again) and it disappeared after Mama’s house fire.

I think I’ve found the modern equivalent.

Dymo sells a LabelBuddy now. The labels look like what I remember.

Those labels will be great for Artist Trading Cards. If you can still get the thing. Says you can get it at WallyWorld and at art supply stores.

I shall look tomorrow. May have to stickyfinger it, as we only have $300 in the bank and just paid all the bills and will not get a paycheck until Monday the Fifteenth. But if I see one . . . it is MINE.

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Author: shalanna

Shalanna: rhymes with "Madonna" and "I wanna," and is not a soundalike with "Hosanna" or "Sha-Na-Na." Aging hippie with long hair, husband, elderly mother, and yappy Pomeranian. I've been writing since I could hold a crayon. I started with fiction, which Mama said was "lying." “Don’t tell stories,” she would admonish, in Southern vernacular. “That's all in your imagination!” When grownups said this, they were not approving. So, shamed, I stopped telling stories for a few years--rather, I stopped letting anyone read them. I'm married to a fellow computer nerd who doesn't really like hearing about writing, but who reads sf/fantasy and understands the creative drive. I'm actually a nonconformist/hippie still wearing bluejeans and drop earrings and the Alice-in-Wonderland hair with headbands and sandals. Favorite flavor is chocolate/orange, favorite color is either Dreamsicle orange (cantaloupe) or bubble-gum pink, favorite musical is either Bye Bye Birdie, Rocky Horror, or The Producers . . . wait, I also love The Music Man. Is this getting way too specific and irrelevant yet? Obvious why I don't sell a ton of flash fiction, isn't it? To define oneself, I always say, it is good to make a list. How about a booklist? Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird Frank and Ernestine Gilbreth, Cheaper by the Dozen C.S.Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (all the Narnia books) J.R.R.Tolkien,The Hobbit/LORD OF THE RINGS trilogy Gail Godwin, The Odd Woman F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby J. D. Salinger, Catcher in the Rye (before dismissing it, actually read it) George Orwell, 1984 Kurt Vonnegut, Cat's Cradle Donna Tartt, The Secret History Mark Twain, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn James Allen, As A Man Thinketh Mark Winegardner, Elvis Presley Boulevard James Thurber, My Life and Hard Times The Wizard of Oz, L. Frank Baum Winnie-the-Pooh/House at Pooh Corner, A. A. Milne Peter Pan, J. M. Barrie The KJV and NIV Bible (each translation has its glories)

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