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It was fun to look-era another in a train of galleries, only these out of doors and on streets proper, commoner's history museums. It was down-right rowdy compared to uncommon's museums. I liked a lot of stuff, though I didn't know nor would ever know what it was. I was going to ever-figure the Whatwas. Leave it at wonderment. Give me something to do for the rest of my life. I always wondered about that, and there it is, surprise-surprise - now I know what it was like the lamp. A gift out of nowhere. This was the art of industry and design. It was the practical everyday stuff - all taken for granted. But it was also suppose to state who one was, what-one liked to be around, identified with, what-one felt best. What-one was cozy with ? Londoners like cozy I thought, like nursery rhyme fairy tales with different levels of affordability. "London Bridge is falling down my fair lady." And there was the religiously regular tea-time.
But I did apparently get infected, of a want of special things, that would be the trade of speciality and antique shops, and by luck-of-the-Irish maybe a flea-market. I remember in San Francisco, not that long after my beginning to reside there, I became infatuated with scrimshaw on Walrus Ivory tusks, and perused antique shops looking for something I could afford, but could not, it being somewhat rare apparently at the time. This was Cans for rich people, and for me, everything in the antique shops was Can'ts. I was in the field checking out the conditions before the game. How much was Cans going to cost me ? "Do the math". Was I inclined to devote my life to the acquirement of money to purchase Cans for knick-knacks, that stated I was elegantly cozy ?
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