Monday, November 06, 2006

 

The Great Thing About Being Willie Wonka

...is that kids recognize you, and parents don't. As mentioned in previous posts and various e-mails, since the move back to the states, my wife, with the PhD in Geophysics, has been rediscovering her inner domestic goddess. And she is one hell of a seamstress. I suspect she'd be happy to take orders, if anyone's got a costume they need made (hats and shoes will have to be purchased elsewhere). In fact, I'm not joking at all when I tell her she needs to find some traveling theatre group in need of a costume goddess to get us back into that loop. But why talk about it, when I have pictures?

First, there's the girls:



These are the lovely ladies whose company I have been denied, until very recently, for approximately a year, whilst doing the Korean ESL gig. In the front, my girl Che, as Warrior Princess, and in the background, my wife, catching a quick smoke before entering the fray of downtown Enid's "Scare on the Square" (already skirting the whole worship of the dark one thang a bit too closely for this township's comfort)...suffice it to say that those who bothered to ask my wife what she was were confused when she replied "I'm a Bollywood Diva." What's Bollywood? And yes, these costumes are handmade.

Then, to the boys. My workmate and longtime friend Andy, who's pretty keen on the whole Wide Open Sea thing, decided he'd like to be a Pirate, while I basically got told what I was going to be. Not that I minded--at all.



...or, I didn't mind until Andy--my mate from very young days and current workmate and mentor in all things carpenterian, showed up with a proper sword to complete his costume, and, as we started posing for pictures, I found occasion to object to his choice of positioning of said sword. Can't say I'm particularly focused on fears of castration, but when the possibility presents itself, I, like all reasonable men, take steps to defend my sense of manhood.



In case any of you should find yourselves in similar situations, let me assure you, a good sturdy umbrella will suffice as an instrument of personal defense against a neglected sword, at least when said sword is wielded by a pirate that's only marginally committed to the "No Quarter" being signalled by his scarrrlet headpiece. Fortunately, the comraderie of chocolate won the day, and, after a couple of beers, and a diplomatic division of the swag, we confirmed each other's esteem yet again.



To the lasting disappointment of all within our party, however, the local skating rink, while offering free admission on Halloween night, billed the event as an UN-Halloween party and played Christian rock instead. Pity, because I really could have gone for donning both a Willie Wonka suit AND rollerskates, and zooming around to the dulcet strains of Lipps Inc.'s "Funkytown". We did manage to have quite a bit of fun, though, and the girls netted 3 and 1/2 pounds of Halloween swag for the night, while Andy and I followed them around everywhere, passing out dubloons and chocolate to everyone that would take them.

Right. I've got a posting on anthems that is loooong overdue...and with that, I'm gonna check out until after I watch the Stewart/Colbert presntation of election results this Tuesday. I'm unreasonably hopeful, as usual, but I do have a few friends around who manage to check that. I wish I knew where the hell I could find a copy online, but there's an old "Life in Hell" strip that pretty much sums that mess up for me, in which Binky's response to every election he's ever vote in is shown...with the Repub wins resulting in head in hands and a groan, and a Dem win resulting in waving a tiny American flag and saying "yay." What're you gonna do when everyone seems convinced that there are only two alternatives, and both pretty much suck? But Stewart/Colbert? I can watch that, because they'll make fun of all sides, which is pretty much what it deserves, anyway.

Did I mention I had a grand time on Halloween?

All's good, and more soon. --tchitch

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?