Of Cats and Peanuts

 I recently opened a package from my pal John Cooper, who is a conceptual artist. (of sorts) It was full of individually wrapped florescent orange circus peanuts, and a home-made T-shirt that says "ADAM" on the front, and "scorch" on the back. The words are stenciled in silicone caulk, for rubbery permanence. Apparently the circus peanuts were a tastier alternative to those "technically edible" cornstarch packing peanuts, that are a biodegradable alternative to those evil styrofoam peanuts that people usually use to pack extremely delicate things, like Tshirts. The box even said "this side up". This kind of stuff is highly conceptual, and the average lay-person may not fully understand the layers of significance and nuance.

John has been on this peanut kick, since commissioning my mother to make him a ceramic cat, and it arrived snug and tight, wrapped in a recycled wadded up cat-food bag and a warning from my eco-mother  that "friends don't send friends packing peanuts."  

Shortly after John received his ceramic cat I received a package notice from UPS.

I live upstairs above my metal shop, with no doorbell. I miss a lot of packages. So I get the first UPS notice,  I leave my phone # in the window, but get no call, just a second notice. I got the third notice, and have no clue why I'm getting a package anyway...  I had a lot of stuff going on... no time no time... got to get out there to Morrison ave...hmmm....if I don't get out there soon it's going to get sent back to where it came from....now what did I order?

So finally I drag myself way out to New Orleans East, Wait in line at the UPS...it was a really long wait...She finally comes back with...A huge plastic bag of biodegradable cornstarch packing peanuts? The UPS lady was sure it was for me, so I slung it in the back of my truck feeling mostly puzzled, but a little bit biodegraded, as well. The sack of peanuts is still laying in the front room of my studio. It turned out to be one of John Coopers conceptual art projects. He was a little disappointed that they had arrived in a clear bag, without the surprise of opening a box, and mortified that I'd had to go on an Odyssey out to Morrison ave, but I assured him that it was a privilege to feel that bewildered, with no negative consequences.

I was once bewildered by a peanut, without being so lucky.  You know that song from when you were a kid? "Found a pea-nut, found a pea-nut, found a peeeeeeeeea-nut just now!"

I was up late at night with my wife, and dozing off in front of the TV.  Too tired to follow the tv program, I shuffled off to bed, pulled back the sheets and climbed in. While shifting around to get comfortable, something poked me. Groggily, I pulled out a peanut, still in the shell. It was the most worn out peanut I'd ever seen, but definitely a classic "Mr Peanut" peanut, with that irregular hourglass figure, that funky fibrous peanut texture, everything except a top-hat and monocle. It was a peanut's peanut, even if it had seen better days. 

But what is a peanut doing in my bed? 

So naturally I smelled it. WTF? This peanut smells like shit?! I guess any food can go past it's prime, but why would a rotten peanut smell like shit.?

So I smelled it again to make sure. Sure enough, a rotten peanut that smells like shit. How peculiar! And I smelled it again, and again, marveling at the olfactory alchemy involved in bestowing such an unlikely smell on a common peanut. When I could no longer contain my wonder,  I shuffled out into the living room to show my amazing peanut to my wife. "Smell this! It's so weird, this peanut smells exactly like shit."

She drew back in repulsion, "Adam that's cat shit!!!"