I always rode alone as the train would circle the basement.
I would look down on the toy section, the escalators and the huge bins of markdown.
Later they put a big face on it but it was a rocket for awhile. I liked the idea of a rocket train in the basement of the department store. You climbed these stairs and the train would come and there would be one kid in the train already. He would get out, you would get in and Mother would watch you go around.
And you felt like everyone was looking at you but they were really checking out the bargains.
And then they yanked it all down and now the memory gets more and more distant and before long will seem to me what it must seem to you: a story about a rocket train in the basement of a department store.
What People Are Saying About the Plaza of the Mind
...[Plaza of the Mind] impressed me in its magnificent weirdness...this sorta je ne sais quoi that you find in interesting art... ...I mean that purely as a compliment!
Plaza of the Mind is a clinamen away from the holeopathic replay by the Android Meme of the old perceptual agon of electrically-programmed youth confronting the Gutenbergian Establishment. Irresistible Force meets Immovable Object.