When you think about it, our lives are focused around shapes. One of the first things we play with as infants is a large plastic cube with cutouts in the shapes of stars, squares, triangles, hearts, diamonds, hexagons, and the occasional muskrat. (I never could get that one in the right hole.) In this little game, the object is to get all of the pieces into the cube through the appropriately shaped opening.
So, it is no wonder that as we grow into adulthood, we continue to be fascinated by all kinds of shapes.
“Honey,” I said to the wife, “when you cut your perennials to make a bouquet for the house, what do you look for in a vase? You always find the perfect container to complement your flowers.”
“Well,” she said thoughtfully, “the vase must have an attractive shape that will delicately balance the assortment of blooms I have collected. Under no circumstances can it be distracting from the focal point … my beautiful, beautiful perennials.”
“Hmmm,” I said thinking out loud, “I bet you were always able to get the muskrat in the hole. On another note, what about a car? What made you select the car you have now?”
“I looked for something with simple lines, sort of rounded with a nice back end. The shape must be compact without silly-frilly add-ons like a spoiler, fins or hood ornament.”
“And our house, what made you know this is where you wanted to live?” I asked continuing my study of shapes.
“Our house is a traditional center-hall colonial. It’s a square box. It’s solid. I love its shape because it is timeless. It’s a classic that follows no trends. It is unique in its sameness. Four rooms upstairs, four rooms downstairs. Its symmetry is intoxicating. Its rooms purposed. There is no ambiguity in our house. No great rooms, no media rooms, no open-concept. The shape of our house demands purposeful living in square rooms designed for cooking, or dining, or entertaining, or daily living.”
As I interrogated the wife with various questions about her preferences, the concept of “shape” kept coming up. What makes one shape appealing to one person and not at all to another?
Case in point; I own a 2001 Chrysler PT Cruiser, a car designed to resemble a 1930s hotrod. From the moment I saw its concept, I knew I had to have one. Its simple retro design and shape was so appealing. Conversely, in several auto magazines it was listed in the top ten ugliest cars ever made. As one reviewer stated, “the PT Cruiser is a hideous abomination of misshapen metal and should not be seen on our public highways.” I found that a bit severe.
To complete my study on shapes, I further asked the wife, “What were you looking for in picking out a husband?”
Carefully thinking out her answer the wife said, “I wanted an oval-faced, V-shaped, square-jawed, broad-shouldered, long-legged, level-headed, six-packed hunk of burning love. …”
Totally flummoxed by her answer, I paused a moment then said, “TA-DA! Prayers answered! Here I am!”
To my recollection, I have never seen anyone snort-laugh so hard that they broke a rib. I guess I wasn’t the shape she was looking for. It’s a good thing I’m a billionaire. …
Raul Ascunce is a freelance columnist for the Sentinel-Tribune. He may be contacted at [email protected].
