The Whirlygig Man

I enjoy looking at the wares of the corner street vendors. Unfortunately, many have been chased away from their corners, especially, in town. On the corner of Jackrabbit Road and MC85 there were tons of people selling their wares. We called that corner the Jackrabbit Mall. The vendors are no longer there. They have been chased away, apparently, they were an eyesore. 

One of my favorite vendors was the Whirlygig Man. He parked his converted bus on Jackrabbit just south of the I10 freeway. He would always show up when the weather started to get cooler and leave when it got hot. I am not a whirlygig connoisseur (to be a connoisseur one must be at least 65 years old), but it always looked like he had some great whirlygigs. He also had quite and interesting variety from galloping horses to swimming frogs. 

My best buddy, Colleen, was obsessed with the Whirlygig Man. Whenever she came to my house she had to make a comment about the Whirlygig Man. He was a regular topic of our conversations:

"Do you think there is a shower in that bus?"

"I don't know."

"Where do you think he goes to the bathroom?"

"Mmmmmm, second bush on the left?"

"What do you think he does all day in that bus all day?"

"I am thinking he makes whirlygigs."

"Look, look, look, he has a TV!"

"Okay, so he watches TV and makes whirlygigs all day."

"I wonder how much they cost?"

"Let's stop and find out."

"No, that's okay, how much money can someone make selling whirlygigs?"

"Enough to buy gas for the bus?"

"Where do you think he lives?"

"In the bus?"

"No, I mean in real life?"

"I am thinking the bus is his real life!"
"NO, where does he come from?"

"The Land of the Whirlygig Makers?"

Colleen moved to Arkansas and for a going-away present I stopped at the Whirlygig Man's place of business and I got her a galloping horse for the front yard of her new home.

Every year I see the Whirlygig Man I think of her and I text her that her boyfriend is alive and well in Arizona. And then, one year he didn't show up. Through some research, I found out his bus burnt up, yes, I too am obsessed with his welfare. I had to text Colleen:

Me: Hey, the Whirlygig Man is nowhere to be found. Is he with you?

Colleen: Yes, he is living in my barn.

Me: Has he filled your yard with whirlygigs?

Colleen: No, I won't let him out of the barn!

Dear Whilygig Man,

I hope wherever you happen to be that you are well. I hope you found somewhere warm to reside. I hope you are still making whirlygigs. In another ten years, I will be needing some whirlygigs. Colleen sends her love.

H&K,

Cathy

Paco's Perspective

Hey, I whirl! I could take over the whirling gig!

The Flip Side

Does he make LIZARD whirlygigs?