I’ve had this pretty soapstone sculpture of two doves on a branch for at least the last decade. It was a special little gift from Pinhead. It cracked once … one of the doves decided to attempt suicide and became detached at the ass, but never fear … a little bit of superglue and his ass was together again. 🙂

But then yesterday, I was attempting to dump change into a huge cobalt vase that sat just behind the little birdies, not only did the same bird finally succeed in committing suicide, but the remaining bird’s wing cracked off. Surprisingly, I didn’t get upset — I just pitched the pieces across the room, where they landed perfectly into my trash can.

It’s not that I really associated Pinhead with the doves, but I did associate the doves with a time in my life when things were simple, easy. It was the one tangible thing left from my high school days that didn’t give me indigestion. Oh well. I learned that Pinhead’s in Nashville these days. Mom did actually go to our supposed 10-year reunion (the private one) on the 13th … she said none of the idiots showed up, and if they did, she didn’t recognize them. I’m so freakin’ glad I didn’t put 500 miles on the car for that non-event, but like I told 420, it would have filled my heart with such joy to see Tuna and Frumper at 800 pounds each, which I envision them to be. lol.

The symbolism of the breaking of the doves: They survived one fracture, but even though things looked “all better” on the surface, the rift that was created from within could never possibly heal itself. Thus, the next test broke it for good, and it became time to say a final goodbye. Of course, that sums up my connection to Pinhead. Trash for the trash. I hope he’s enjoyed the last few years at the curb — maybe some nice trash collector picked him up by now. 🙂

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