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Who hasn’t spent what seems to be hours watching a Lava Lamp warm up, then begin its eerie, oily bubble dance? For one Kent, Washington, man in 2004, these moments were his last, as the lamp exploded and took his life.
For the rest of us, well, c’mon, man, these things are totally great!
The Lava Lamp was invented 52 years ago. In my day, if you had a Lava Lamp, a bong, a disco ball and an incense burner, you were pretty well hooked up. Well, you also needed a few Grateful Dead and Pink Floyd albums, along with some kind of chemical diversion. Then you were really hooked up.
What is it about a Lava Lamp that we find so engrossing? Perhaps it’s the extraterrestrial quality of the oil blob, as it rises like a miniature dirigible, only to meet its inevitable doom at the lamp’s outer boundary. Or is it akin to watching a full cycle of childbirth, from conception to delivery, the payoff a delightful little bundle of unctuous joy?
There are no rough edges on a Lava Lamp, inside or out. Its soothing, silent reproductions slow everything down, and bathe us in a blue-green or amber glow. Lava Lamps give us so much, yet ask for so little.
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A Lava Lamp reminds me of a delicious melted-cheese sandwich: soft, gooey, warm and very satisfying. Just thinking about a Lava Lamp gives me the munchies.
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