That one SoCal roadtrip when I tried out for Jeopardy!, I got dinged in the final round. And yet nearly twenty years later, here I am, filing the most random bits of information away in my head for no discernible purpose. And then I'm just waiting under a tree like a crazyman for a stranger to come up to me and ask, "Excuse me, my good fellow, might you tell me from whence cameth this random modernist dollhouse I'm thinking of buying?"
And in an instant, I'll reply, "Why, that's from East Germany in the 1960's. Three fortnights ha'n't passed since I spied one like it at the Virtualles Puppenhausmuseum."
And then he'll go, "Well, I'll be. Thank you!" And walk off, and return to tell the tale of how he scored a sweet East German dollhouse, probably for a song, at a secret auction somewheres.
And meanwhile, I'll still be sitting under the tree, ruminating on the long-lost construction toys of the unheralded genius collaborator/mistresses of great architects. Seriously, it could totally happen!
Wlkommen to Puppenhaus [warymeyers]
