HOT CARS WARP RECORDS

(some of you may remember)

The sky today is heaped with mounds of fluff, assorted cheerful shades of blue and white mixing together, framing the welcome golden face of the sun.

A lovely day, wonderful, after nearly a dozen rainy days in a row, a beautiful atmospheric gift.

A gift as treasured as the one HelenMary, Watergate! 's costumer gave to me on Opening Night.

"I have no idea when I got this, or why I have it, " she said. "But there it was in with my junk jewelery. It's perfect for you," and she fastened it round my wrist.

It is clearly very old. The pearlized paint is peeling away from the glass beads. The gold-colored metal links are a bit corroded. But the golden letter charms that hang at intervals between the pearls shine as brightly as though they were new. Yes, dangling from my wrist are the letters, N - I - X - O - N.

I think it's beautiful.

A gift as unexpected as the one that came in the mail, oddly, as though I were a web-cam girl. With it, this cryptic card:

Keep this sandal away from heat or
direct sunlight when not wearing.

Failure to do so could result in injury.

I'm thinking, is this Engrish? Whoa. Or like the warning on albums you could borrow from the library; the first time I saw it, I thought it was the name of a band. And there were a lot of albums by that same band, HOT CARS WARP RECORDS. Hah, my mistake. (All this, just a tiny bit of nostalgia for those of you who have traveled in the same space-time continum as I.)

Look again, closet blonde: there is a large triangle in the center (instep) strap of the sandal. Made of metal. Aha.

Hot Cars Warp Records, indeed.