Just Say “Yes”

“Yes” is for young people. So for as long as you have the strength to, say “yes”. ~ Stephen Colbert

I’m well into middle age, but here’s my general attitude toward it…

Justin Timberlake

 

A lot of my similarly-aged friends are slowing down, staying in, getting to bed regularly by 9 p.m. BORING. So far, I’m unwilling to go gently into that good night. I crave action. Life’s short enough. I definitely don’t want it to be boring. I need to get my fix of interesting goings-on about town. On this, Atlanta delivers.

If you like art and music, deerbearwolf is a great source for what’s happening in the city. Or maybe just befriend charming weirdos who tell you about all the funky things they are doing. That’s equally effective. So, here’s one thing I got up to this week, as a little taste. There’s been other fun stuff too but y’all don’t need to know everything.

Friday night my gay husband and I took the kids to meet up with our friend, Kelly, for the monthly auction at Atlanta Auction Gallery.

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It was the best weird time I’ve had in a while. People were having fun! Y’all know I’m from rural South Carolina and, though this place is in the hood near downtown ATL, I could’ve sworn I was in McColl, S.C. on a Friday night for the big auction!

My favorite thing in the whole warehouse was this…boobs

Don’t act like you don’t love it. I mean, come on, the nipples are red lights! I so wanted to bring that baby home to hang on the wall in the garage for Steve near his lift so he would feel like a bona fide grease-monkey. He told me to surprise him with something good. Gigantic, 3-D boobs would have been spectacular, no?! But alas, it was not to be.

The best part of the night was the people watching. It was a microcosm of Atlanta. There were regular folks; hipsters; Buckhead Betties hoping to score gems to resell in their consignment shops; disheveled, grimy old men with missing teeth looking like they just came in off the street for some free food and a little entertainment; straight up hoodrats; and neck tattooed BMXer man-boys with their pretty, tight-sweatered, high-heeled, Louis Vuitton-tote-carrying, iphone-calculator-in-hand girlfriends bidding with all due seriousness and determination on stuff that probably was immediately headed for resale on Craig’s List or their Ebay store. (Props to them for what is no-doubt a money-making venture.)

Most of the items in play were junk – like the stuff your crazy auntie kept in her darkened house way out in the country. But damn if people didn’t snap them up anyway like a bunch of bargain hunters descending on the dollar table at the swap meet to stock up on unique (well-worn, dirty, dusty) presents and stocking-fillers on Christmas Eve.

Speaking of fill, we did. Fill up on the free boxed wine and draft Yuengling they were serving, that is. Any savvy auctioneer knows offering free booze is a smart investment for a successful live auction. It’s a no-brainer for stretching razor-thin profit margins into the black.

We left with one thing and one thing only – Steve’s surprise gift. It had to be just the right thing. After perusing available items, we hit on it. If you know Stevie-D, you might agree that his heathen ass can always use a little added encouragement. I mean, who doesn’t need a benevolent, watchful eye quietly imploring us to best behavior? So, home this went. IMG_0706

Our own personal Jesus currently sits peacefully in our bedroom, no doubt being outraged on the regular.

Pray for us. We need all the help we can get.

And just because this fits so neatly…

About Chris DeVinney

Me in a nutshell: mom, writer, former lobbyist, wife, volunteer, lover of music and art, massive fan of traveling, and something of a smart ass. A typical INTJ, I quietly observe anyone and anything that comes into my orbit, squirreling away material for future essays. These days I spend my time writing about whatever interests me (both professionally and personally) and trying to strike the balance between taking care of kids/family/house/pets and me. Occasionally I nail it, hang on to it briefly, and then scramble back toward the center when the tipping starts again. I know, it’s a common story.
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