Wave After Wave They Came

tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8428646.post-46845631288132325572007-08-17T16:29:00.000+01:002007-08-18T09:44:19.734+01:00Wave After Wave They CameI have a guilty pleasure. Sorry, that makes it sound slightly exciting which it isn't really. Just a little sad. You see I find I get a great sense of well being from being able to walk around a miniature or model village. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1432/1119522807_b7277b1f0a.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1432/1119522807_b7277b1f0a.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Especially when the place is a familiar one like Polperro (left). I get into this frankly, ridiculous process of recognising all the different bits and relating them to their original, larger counterparts. On a bad day I try to engage others with idiot statements like "Oh my god! That bit there is that road with the shop on it!". Or the what-must-be frustrating "Do you recognise that? Do ya? Do ya?". And no, sadly I don't "get bored in a minute" as my wife would hope. The whole thing takes on a new, terrible level of thrill (for me) if the village is equipped with some form of working railway - this is often the point where any realism is quickly lots as we don't actually have a full size working railway anywhere in Britain. This excitement rises to orgasmic if you can actually sit on the trains (note: I actually audibly 'eeked' as I wrote that) <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/105/251395786_05e6da32a1.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/105/251395786_05e6da32a1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>So what is it that I enjoy so much about these places? Frankly I'm f**ked if I know. Maybe it's the chance to act out my favourite Godzilla based moves (although the village owners are rarely happy to allow me destroy large chunks of their site even with my supersonic-monster-screech). More likely it has something to do with all those fabulous models from the <a href="http://www.fanderson.org.uk/fanderson.html">Gerry Anderson</a> programs from my childhood. It wouldn't surprise me to learn that, like most things, model villages are just another poor substitute for the fact that 'Space 1999' isn't real and I'm not an astronaut. Once more, I've shared too much.AntToeKneehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05321946850051634864noreply@blogger.com