Dr. Zinn's Last Experiment,
Specimen in Preservation Solution
Power poles spring up from late summer cornfields like robots frozen in battle march. Giants without hearts since the cold war ended and all the UFO’s went west to the desert with hopes of selling out to road side souvenir stands and made for TV sweeps week documentaries. Everyone is out for a quick buck. "Take the money and run" is a universal concept as well as bad classic rock. The ray guns of childhood are in the attic and the decoder ring has lost a few letters. Memories of monsters now yellow and smell like they have been packed away for years, wrapped in newspapers of the day. They smell like the inside of a thrift shop. The world got small and when it did, it became slightly less fun.
Johnny Quest sold out. He lives on my block, dives a minivan, and mows the lawn every Tuesday night. He's a midlevel manager in sales. Now, his only outlet is fantasy football and light beer. I’d call him out, but what’s the use. We both know that you don’t find adventure in soft shoes and Brooks Brothers slacks.
The bank's lawyers sold off all of Dr. Zinn's specimens in an effort to liquidate his empire of evil in order to make way for another phase one cul-de-sac. The old man was sold out to build a strange, sterile, neighborhood with identical houses with no trees or power lines. The image above is one of Zinn's last remaining experiments, I found it in a thrift store just outside Westchester County. I didn't buy it because I didn't want to contribute to the downfall of an icon.
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