The Lure of the Pink Flamingo

Well, I really did it now. Today I went to Menards to get eight bags of landscaping rock for the rock garden...

... and I ended up buying a set of pink flamingos.

I don't know...

Its not that I have anything against pink flamingos personally. Its just that they kind have a reputation in our neighborhood, you know? Sort of a kitschy/trailer park/fuzzy dice hanging from the rear view mirror/bordering precariously close to "in questionable taste" kind of rep. But despite all the bad press, there's a quality about them that irrationally appealed to and drew me in, despite myself.

But are plastic yard birds really all that bad??? Do they deserve to be affiliated with such a negative perception by my friends and neighbors? There must be something about pink flamingos which has merit if we look deep enough, beyond the bias. Indeed, my Grandma had a whole zoo of plastic critters decorating her yard. And I know for a fact that at some point she too succumbed to the lure of the pink flamingo (yes, I found the evidence - an empty box - in her attic one day). Surely they can not be all that bad if my own Grandma possessed one.


Maybe it was this fact, the historical family connection, which drew me over the edge. It made the maligned bird so irresistibly attractive to me in a wholesome, down-to-earth, God-fearing, red-blooded American sort of way. By golly, if they were good enough for Grandma, then pink plastic flamingos are good enough for me!

Now if only I can get the neighbors to see things my way...