SO WHAT HAVE YOU BOUGHT
that was stupid? A shirt, a car, a house, a pontoon boat, a pet, a present? Admit it; you know you have. I couldn't count all the stupid stuff I've purchased.
One that haunts me is when a salesman at a golf store tried to sell me a group of lessons that would technologically analyze and cure any golf glitches that I have incurred out of lack of ability or bad practice habits over the years. It involved hitting balls inside onto an image projected onto a screen.
Nothing that much out of the ordinary, except experts would pronounce me able after I had adjusted my swing. I'm not sure if a certificate would be included into the hefty price. I refused and angered the salesman.
When I wanted to purchase a set of Ping irons, he reprimanded me with a sternness that I don't think I've ever received from a salesman of any kind, "You know, you can't buy a golf game." Ouch!
Well, I bought the clubs anyhow and rejected the lessons. Maybe a bad choice. But I've made worse.
I've admired artists for years. Plus I love wood. And working with wood. Not that I can do it, but I can appreciate it. So when we browsed an art store in California and I saw about thirty pieces I liked, I splurged and paid way too much for a lamp. Not as wild as the one pictured. It was made of three kinds of wood including the Torrey pine. That, like the golf course, was the attraction that doomed me. The exorbitance of the price only made me hesitate.
It now sits by me nearly every night. It doesn't emit much light, not nearly enough to read by even with the green swirled bulb containing mercury that they won't even allow in thermometers anymore, so I don't understand a lot of stuff that's green.
But hey, like the salesman should have said, "You know it may be pretty, but you can't buy light even if it bears e name Torrey pine."
that was stupid? A shirt, a car, a house, a pontoon boat, a pet, a present? Admit it; you know you have. I couldn't count all the stupid stuff I've purchased.
One that haunts me is when a salesman at a golf store tried to sell me a group of lessons that would technologically analyze and cure any golf glitches that I have incurred out of lack of ability or bad practice habits over the years. It involved hitting balls inside onto an image projected onto a screen.
Nothing that much out of the ordinary, except experts would pronounce me able after I had adjusted my swing. I'm not sure if a certificate would be included into the hefty price. I refused and angered the salesman.
When I wanted to purchase a set of Ping irons, he reprimanded me with a sternness that I don't think I've ever received from a salesman of any kind, "You know, you can't buy a golf game." Ouch!
Well, I bought the clubs anyhow and rejected the lessons. Maybe a bad choice. But I've made worse.
I've admired artists for years. Plus I love wood. And working with wood. Not that I can do it, but I can appreciate it. So when we browsed an art store in California and I saw about thirty pieces I liked, I splurged and paid way too much for a lamp. Not as wild as the one pictured. It was made of three kinds of wood including the Torrey pine. That, like the golf course, was the attraction that doomed me. The exorbitance of the price only made me hesitate.
It now sits by me nearly every night. It doesn't emit much light, not nearly enough to read by even with the green swirled bulb containing mercury that they won't even allow in thermometers anymore, so I don't understand a lot of stuff that's green.
But hey, like the salesman should have said, "You know it may be pretty, but you can't buy light even if it bears e name Torrey pine."
posted by TQ @ 5:19 AM
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