I went to see Iron Man 2 yesterday at the Grand Lake theater, feeling a bit antsy in the late afternoon, thinking, well, I'd enjoyed Robert Downey, Jr. in the first one, maybe I'll be able to sit through the second over a nice bag of M & M's.

Lots of bang! pow! special effects and such, what you'd expect, the Downey character, I'm afraid, too cleverly written by half, accused at one point by another character of acting like “The Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers”. My, my. The Freak Brothers in Iron Man 2? Who'd a thought? Does this film's demographic recognize the reference? And how would I know anymore if they did? I lost any contact I might have had too many to count generations back.

Later. I started out for the farmer's market at eleven, returning here to the apartment at one, the sky overcast and the air cool as I started (wearing a turtleneck and a jacket), the sun out soon after by noon so when I returned I was too warm (what else?) but in a good mood for all that. On a good day, and this is a good day, the farmer's market is quite crowded, which you'd think would attract candid photographers, but I stopped for but a minute to shoot a single picture before going on to the Starbucks next door to Noah's Bagels (Noah's was too crowded, Starbucks was not) and sit over a cup of coffee at a table for a while out front.

Lots of people out on the sidewalks, sitting at tables and having breakfast at the various restaurants, lots of people making their way around them, lots of people shopping, lots of people (from all I could tell) just walking. Something of a zoo around here on the weekends. A good street photographer's habitat.

I mentioned (about a month ago) buying a set of molded plastic Paparazzi figures, small ones about three inches high. Six nicely done little figures shooting cameras, two holding out microphones, one holding out a pen and an autograph book. And I said (I say so many things) I thought I'd arrange the photographers in some kind of diorama and photograph it, see if I couldn't use it to replace the old guy in the silly hat on the entrance to artandlife.

And I really did think about it until I got home and realized how the figures in their plastic case with the big white “Paparazzi” in large letters made, in and of itself, such a rare and nice object de art, something to place on one of the book shelves with all of my other rare and valuable objects de art. You know, the now slightly deflated blue plastic alien balloon, the large and empty bottle of Onigoroshi, the small stone cat with a hollowed out place for a tea light on its back? So I couldn't possibly open the package and use the figures to build a diorama. No way for that. We are, after all, civilized old farts. Civilized, sensitive and such.

But, sitting, drinking coffee at that table in front of Starbucks, the store where I bought the Paparazzi figures next door, I realized, if I bought another set, I could indeed use them to make the diorama and still keep my original box of Paparazzi as an object de art! (Do you begin to see, by the way, why I've never married? Objects de art? I thought you might.)

Packing that camera keeps people at a distance too I would think.

My thought until I discovered bohemian ladies with more interesting attitudes toward life and the practice of art. Too late, but instructive none the less.

These again are toy figures? Who buys paparazzi toys for their kids?

What do you not understand about objects de art?

So, a second set of Paparazzi in tow, I headed home passing a group of people who've been practicing a martial arts/dance discipline of some kind at the white columns lately on weekends by the lake, taking a picture on the fly, and now back home thinking various diorama thoughts. How to set it up, how to make it, how to open the damned package without breaking one of the little cameras off.

And all of these other projects you've talked about?

They can wait. We are in diorama mode for the day, for the hour.