Good Life

"Rugs Are Biogger Than Eggs!"

The show is crowded — antiques everywhere.

Among the motley mix

of mortals and obsolete objects

a smooth-faced couple

quizzically ponder

an odd-shaped implement

plucked from an umbrella stand:

four feet tall,

a handle at one end,

the other end is wire

twisted into myriad flat forms

as if a baseball bat

had mated with a

tennis racket.





He is perplexed.

She is puzzled.

"What sport is this?" he seems to ask.

My impulse: enlighten and boost my ego —

or stay silent not revealing my ancientness

nor informing their utter ignorance.

"Rugbeater!" I offer, betraying both.

"Killed by vacuums," I add.

"Rugs are bigger than eggs!"





I leave them awed —

still puzzled and perplexed.

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