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I've
mended my first sparkleball so many times it looks like somebody sat
on it. But lit up at night, it still looks almost perfect.
Thank you my dear
friend Trudy for making
that fateful u-turn.
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On a November night
in 1993, my friend Trudy
and I were zipping down a two-lane highway outside Tyler, Texas when I
shouted Stop! Turn around! Go back! Go back! Trudy
made an immediate u-turn. And then another, until we bounced up the dirt
driveway of a battered mobile home.
There, in the dark, strung across a clothesline,
were a bunch of lit-up plastic spheres. Each one blinking, dancing, whirling
to its own multi-colored rhythm. It looked like a formation of little
UFOs hovering over this empty piece of Texas.
A man with a beer came out to greet us. He proudly
said the lightballs were for sale. "Cuplights" he called
them.
He pulled one down, and up close, we could see it was nothing more
than a bunch of plastic cups and a string of Christmas lights. It was
hard to imagine such humble objects coming together to make something
so absolutely magical.
We bought three: one for me, one for Trudy, and one for our childhood
friend, Finley, who we were on our way to see in Dallas.
A few days later I flew home to Richmond VA clutching my "cuplight"
as a carry-on.
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It was an immediate hit with my children, who immediately named it "Sparkleball."
All these years that old Sparkleball has
been my constant companion. Through divorce and a move from Virginia to
North Carolina. Across the country to San Diego where I lived for ten
years. Remarried, and living in Texas and then in Sonoma CA. And back
again, to San Diego.
Like me, the Sparkleball is a little worse for wear. I've
mended it a jillion times, but the lights still work all these years later.
I finally taught myself how to make Sparkleballs and now have made
dozens. Friends say I should start a business or charge for the instructions.
But every Christmas when I hang up my original Sparkleball and
plug it in, I'm reminded of that dark Texas night and Trudy and how it's
those little detours we take in life that give the most joy. And I reaffirm
the fact that if I, an egghead serious negativizer, can get this much
pleasure from something so silly, maybe I need to give it away. This website
lets me do that.
Just call me Sparkleball Lady.
Trudy Richardson 1951 - 2011
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