Personification

Personification: Reference to abstractions or inanimate objects as though they had human qualities or abilities. The English term for prosopopeia (pro-so-po-pe’-i-a) or ethopoeia (e-tho-po’-ia): the description and portrayal of a character (natural propensities, manners and affections, etc.).

I was in day 26 of acid tripping, raising money for my charity “Happy Trails.” The charity does research on restoring visual, aural, and olfactory hallucinations to LSD-impaired trippers.

I had committed to 30 days on acid, being paid $1,000 per day by an anonymous donor from Kazakstan. I also worked as an “acid model” dancing to “Inscense and Peppermint” playing on my boom box at the entrance to the “Sloop Wagon Mall.” I picked up another $100 or so daily from people going into, and leaving, the mall.

I took a half-hour break every hour and browsed around the store and shops in the mall. Sometimes, I’d score a smoothie and ride the Merry-go-Round. It was great fun. Everything blended together when I rode in a circle—changing colors and playing what sounded like Deep Purple’s “Highway Star” on the calliope. The poles holding the horses turned into golden snakes going up and down, the horses came to life. The whole setup said to me: “Ride, baby, ride,” and I would yell “Rawhide!” holding up my smoothie like a torch.

I had some time left on my break so I headed for “Gil’s Gadget Shop.” Gil sold gadgets. I went in and picked up a tool he sold to loosen your laundry load and make easier to lift from the washer tub. I looked at it and it said to me “You need me,” so I bought it. The hard-boiled egg peeler was a work of art! I picked up and it said: “Buy me. You need me.” How did it know I couldn’t peel a hard-boiled egg to save my ass? It was $200, but I bought it anyway. Then, something shiny caught my eye. It was a mixing bowl with built-in solar-powered propellers for mixing what was dumped in it. Clever!. It was inhaling and exhaling and whispering: “You need me. I need you. Buy me now.” I put it in my cart.

I had to check out before I started spending donor money. I went up to the counter & Gil looked a little stiff while he rang up my purchases. He said, “I am the Gil Gadget, please tap your credit card.” I looked over the Gil Gadget’s shoulder and saw Gil gagged and duct-taped to a chair. I knew what to do. I clapped my hands and Gil Gadget turned off and fell down.

I freed Mel, who looked like a duct tape mummy. As a reward, he gave me a free “Ant-vac” used to vacuum up ants that have invaded your home. It is the size of a lipstick tube and is solar powered and holds 135 dead ants! Pretty cool. It said to me “I won’t vacuum your aunts, but I will vacuum your ants.” Clever little devil—a punning Ant-vac.

Time to go back to work. As I waded knee deep in vibrantly glowing lollipops back to the mall entrance, as I went back outside, the Sloop Wagon Mall said: “You don’t need any of that shit you bought—well maybe you need the mixing bowl, it will make a good helmet.” I laughed and put the mixing bowl on my head and stepped outside. The propellers were uncomfortable so I tore them out and gave them to a kid.

The cars in the parking lot turned into piles of diamonds.