Saturday, February 8, 2014
An interview with my 1978 Six Million Dollar Man garbage can
This week a rare opportunity came up for us to sit down and have a chat with my 1978 Six Million Dollar Man garbage can. Although, 'came up', might be a bit generous, as it's been sitting in the den for 36 years.
VIZSLA: Well, first of all I want to thank you for being here. It's fantastic to have a chance to talk with you.
THE SIX MILLION DOLLAR MAN GARBAGE CAN: I literally have not moved in over ten years.
V: Um..... Yeah. So. You look great.
6: Thanks. I've got a little denting along the top edge, but ... you know.. what guy in his 30s doesn't.
V: What's it like to spend most of your time filled with garbage.
6: You'd have to ask the tea party.
V: HA! I see what you did there.
6: Thanks. Seriously though, it's good to have a function I suppose. Could be worse. At least I'm not one of those action figures still in the packaging languishing on a shelf, you know? I'm still in the game.
V: What do you say to those who would point out that having you around provides a needless anchor to the past preventing your owner from releasing childhood memories and moving on with his life?
6: Well, I don't think there's any need to get needlessly totemistic about it. I mean, sometimes a garbage can is just a garbage can if I could misqoute Freud for just a moment.
V: So you don't feel like the memories of unfulfilled childhood dreams still cling to you like the lingering bottom half of a Chewbacca sticker?
6: I kind of like the sticker. We've been together for a very long time. You know... eventually you just accept your imperfections as being part of who you are, you know?
V: That's very deep.
6: I am very deep.
V: About 15 inches deep.
6: Way to blow the metaphor.