When I pick Tony up from work, I drive by a tattoo and body piercing shop called Kaleidoscope. There’s a big sign on the building about body piercing. The sign features a graphic that is supposed to look like a piercing, as if the sign itself (and the building on which it’s hanging) is pierced. The graphic isn’t all that great, and I had to be stopped at the stoplight across from it at least thirty times before I realized what it was supposed to be.
When I did realize, earlier this week, I started thinking about how much better it would be if the Kaleidoscope building could actually get a giant, building-sized piercing inserted through and into it. How would it work? Would it just look like it was going through the building, or would you actually be able to see it from the inside? What would that mean in terms of insulation and heating costs? How does one make a Ripley’s Believe it Or Not type architectural decision? Obviously structural integrity has to be a consideration, but the driving force is wackiness, one assumes.
And anyway, even if Kaleidoscope could figure that out, they’d still be facing the enormous costs of creating a gigantic piercing. You wouldn’t need to use sterling silver, obviously, but even that much steel could be pricey. And heavy! Do you think they could make it hollow, I wonder?
Surely there are other options beyond steel. Couldn’t a woman create an awesome, faux building piercing with some DIY ingenuity, a hundred bucks, and a weekend? What if she used flexible duct work?
It’s not a perfect substitute, to be sure, but the basics are all there. And who says the piercing has to look real up close? Wouldn’t the important thing be whether it gives a general likeness from the stoplight down the block, where people in cars are apt to be stopped?
I said all this to myself, there at the stoplight, and then I said it to Tony when I picked him up. I actually ran through this series of thoughts twice before some neuron in my brain finally fired and I came to in a cold sweat like OH MY GOD WHY IN GOD’S NAME ARE YOU THINKING ABOUT THIS??? WHY? WHY??? PLEASE STOP IMMEDIATELY!
I don’t pretend to be a genuis, but surely I could be thinking about something — anything – more productive than piercing the Kaleidoscope building. The thing is, though, now it’s a habit. In fact I’ve just run through the series of thoughts again just now, in writing this! The thought is stuck, lodged deep in the part of my brain that has apparently always wanted me to think about pierced buildings.
I want that building to get a piercing, damnit! Or, at the very least, I want to capture my vision of it through photoshop or a painting or a powerful and moving modern dance. I need to think about it, like I need to scratch a mosquito bite or read every book ever written by Stephen King even though I so rarely enjoy them. I just google image searched “pierced buildings” and found this, which is significantly smaller and less majestic than what I’m envisioning but is at least approaching the idea.
There’s a blog I like that snarks on a popular healthy-living blogger. Today in the comments section the author linked to a Lewis Black video. If you didn’t understand anything I wrote in the previous two sentences, don’t worry about it. The point is, there’s a stand-up comedy bit that gets at this idea. (The funny part starts at 1:35).
“If it weren’t for my horse, I wouldn’t have spent that year in college.” Unlike Lewis Black, my future brain aneurysm doesn’t require any external earworm. My own brain has come up with it all on its own. Pierced buildings! Pierced buildings! PIERCED BUILDINGS!
When the news of my passing comes, days or weeks from now, please know that I’m in a better place. This world, with its non-pierced buildings, was never meant for me. I’ve moved on to somewhere full of love and light and hollow steel that passes through brick and mortar like a threaded needle. In lieu of flowers, please direct donations to my family, who will need them to purchase the custom-made pierced tombstone I have recently designed for such an occasion.