The Hyperion Chronicles

the Hyperion Chronicles
“Ceramic People of the World, Unite!”




#161 Rasco, Black Santa, and other Tales from the Dollar Store




I know many of you thought my middle name was Egalitarian, but I used to be a bit of a snob. I would look at those dollar stores and think, “How white trash can you be?” But then my grandmother, who often is much more wise than I, told me that dollar stores were great. This coincided with a change in my socio-economic status (and by “change” I mean “freefall”). Anyway, to make a poor story short, eventually I graced the dollar store with my presence.

And like going to Stiffler’s party, it was so cool!

The dollar store has everything, including many things I didn’t know I wanted until I got there. (In this way, it was much like a Flying J truck stop market or a women’s prison.) I did have a few bad experiences, which taught me some valuable lessons.

For one thing, you pretty much get what you pay for, so you want to be sure you don’t buy merchandise where quality is an issue. I found this out when I bought saran wrap. Write this down, kids: it’s not wroth saving $2 for the headaches you’ll receive. Pony up for the good stuff. The same goes for pens, if you’re an aficionado like I am: five cool looking pens for a buck is too good to be true.

But other things don’t matter, and here the dollar store is a godsend. Plastic cups, paper plates, generic Advil, birthday cards, party favors, spiral notebooks, holiday placemats, Groucho Marx-mustache glasses, Q-tips (although be careful how you use them!), nametag key chains, purple horse calendars, plastic spoons, suction cup bow-and-arrow sets, inspirational posters…the list goes on and on.

My second favorite thing to buy there is candy. Sometimes it’s a bit old (so you have to buy stuff where that’s not a big deal), but the price can be fabulous. $5 can give you enough candy for 25 movies!

My favorite things to buy are the figurines. I used to not understand the power of figurines. And don’t get me wrong: I still hate on expensive ones. But when I entered the dollar store that fateful day, and saw row after row of uglier-than-Tammy-Faye-on-a-bad-day figures looking up at me hopefully, like puppies in a pound, I knew I’d found my (ceramic) people.

I’ve since come to understand that there is real power in those figurines, those totems I used to dismiss. My first two were a nun and a Japanese Samurai warrior. I put them on the TV where they pretended to fight, but really kept the TV safe from ever finding a Full House episode.

But eventually I gave these to my sister to protect her TV, and I replaced them with Black Santa. Black Santa (or Chocolate Kringle, as the kids in the neighborhood called him) was a great addition to the Hyperion household. I would take him with me when we went to play Trivia, and he would bring us luck. However, my friend Koz wanted Black Santa, so I gave him away. (One of the rules of totem-figurines is that, much like bibles or your heart, you must be prepared to give them away. This is made much easier by the fact that they cost a dollar.)

I really hadn’t thought much of the dollar store when I entered the Witness Protection Program and came to live here in Canada. I assumed they didn’t have them up here. (And it was a sad thing, too, since the only thing we had was this expensive Thomas Kinkade house-thingy. How much power can there be in that?) However, I always noticed this store that was called “Super Loony.” I just assumed it was a mental health clinic with a sense of humor, until I learned that a dollar is a Loony up here. I got so excited: this was my dollar store!

Until I went in. I found out the “super” part is because it takes a super amount of Loonies to buy anything! Even the crappy toys that are guaranteed to break in one sitting (like the paddle balls that are attached via string to the paddles with one cheap staple) were four bucks. In fact, the only thing that cost a dollar was the penny candy! Grrr. Sad and disheartened, I left.

This would be the end of the tale, but last week I was getting some groceries, and I noticed a new store at the end of the strip mall: “ A Buck or Two.” Ever the wide-eyed optimist, I gave it another shot. I figured at least they were being honest in the title telling me not everything was a dollar.

And they kept to their word. Everything I looked at was one or two bucks. With inflation, you can’t beat that. I entered the store for candy and figurines—of course—but the enterprising young shop girl convinced me I need something more seasonal. So I got Rasco.

Rasco is an eight-inch long (not including his serpentine tail) grey, incredibly lifelike rat. (His name comes from Jenner, of the NIMH gang, in case you were wondering.) Rasco immediately became the hit of our household. That’s because I hid him where my mother would find him.

Initially she was less-than-pleased (although I’m fairly sure I don’t bend that way, so I don’t see how she can pull off her threat). However, one morning I woke up and took to the bathroom to take care of morning ablutions. I saw my mother, apparently asleep on the couch (I should have known she wouldn’t take a nap like that). I lifted the lid (I always put it back down, so don’t hate), and there was Rasco, doing the ratty-paddle. I knew she was hooked. Since then we’ve established a rule that whomever finds Rasco gets to hide him next. (Although there are dangers. Mom confided later she forgot where she put Rasco and scared herself while waiting for me to get up.)

As an epilogue, last night I went back to the dollar store, to see what I could find. They had these huge fuzzy tarantulas, but they were so big, it would be more likely you’d take them for small dogs than spiders. Then I found another black spider, about 4.5 inches in diameter. It even feels like a spider. I have her on the desk as I’m writing this, and I am creeped out, and I know she’s not real!! I think I will name her Raleigh (you figure it out). Now the only thing to do is decide where to hide her.

Hee hee!


Hyperion
October 03, 2003

Credits
Thanks to Koz for editing
Thanks to Mom for being a good sport
Thanks to Black Santa, the Nun, Ceramic Samurai, and all my little friends. You may be gone, but you’re not forgotten. Sniff Sniff
Thanks to Rasco for all the fun, and Raleigh, for all the new fun

Motto Explanation
RTC (Read the Column)