What is it about statues?

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Kissing Bishops in Boston.

I don’t know what it is about statues but I love them.

It’s impossible for me to pass a bronzed or marbled or any sculpted shape without climbing it, mimicking it or getting my picture taken with the immortalized soul.

I am sure some psychiatrist could dismantle my obsession with ease but I can’t figure it out. More than that, I don’t care. I just know I love them and I run with it.

Years ago when I was in Thailand I found a giant cow outside an ice cream parlour and – of course! – I began climbing atop the gentle plastic creature.

In my excitement – I mean come on how often do you come across a giant cow statue when out for an evening stroll?!? – I hadn’t noticed the dairy goddess was on a wheeled platform until her and I began rolling down the sidewalk.

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I own the ‘Father of Dread’

These are the moments when travel buddies are crucial. This is where they jump in front of a runaway bovine, then help you dismount and push Daisy back to her post outside the ice cream shop.

Yeah…I guess you could say I’m obsessed with statues. But maybe that’s because I’m obsessed with appreciating the simple things in life. May it’s because I need to constantly entertain myself – and anyone else in eye shot. Maybe I’m just weird.

Either way, when my time comes, I hope I go to the great statue garden in the sky. In the meantime, if you know of one on earth, please let me know about it – immediately!


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