Uncle P and the Mystery of the Creepy Peeps

Among my friends there are two distinct camps when it comes to this story: those who, like myself, find it hilarious and fun and those, like my BIL, who think Uncle P is being stalked by a serial killer. I'll let you decide.

Last November, just about a month after my mother passed away, I came home to find an Apple box stuffed in my mailbox. When I pulled out the tissue paper and ribbons, I found the nightlight you see to your right. And yes, the bulb inside is red. There was no card or note. Nothing on the box but the Apple logo. When I posted it to Facebook, the two camps immediately made themselves apparent. Of course, my friends and regular readers know my taste for the odd (indeed, the macabre) and unusual. And they also know I tend to have a rather dark sense of humor. I thought it was hilarious and plugged it into a kitchen outlet (it gets too hot for practical use, but is fun to switch on when I have guests). In the months that followed, people would occasionally ask me if I ever found out who sent it, but I almost forgot about. Until...

Just around my birthday this year, I came home and opened my screen door and a box tumbled out onto the mat.  Inside was not only the green planter below, but a note!

"Dear Brian,

"The psychic creepy doll network has determined you and your red eyed nightlight needed a friend.

"Therefore please welcome this new addition to your home. We trust you will admire and enjoy it.

"With much love, a shared sense of humor and best wishes,

"Your mystery/anonymous creepy peeps."

The box was a sturdy gift box from the Frenchtown Metalworks, an art jeweler in New Jersey. 

How exciting! Contact had been made! But how much was to be believed? Is this the work of more than one person? Do they live in or near Frenchtown? He, she or they obviously know where I live and when they can deliver packages when I'm not home. More friends freak out. I laugh and hope that all will be revealed, eventually. Speculation continues.  

Next - right before Halloween, I came home to find a bag on my kitchen table. My boarder had brought it in (whew!) after finding it hanging on the doorknob, outside. In the bag was a square box, also from Frenchtown Metalworks. It had a black ribbon and written on it in orange and black markers was "Happy Halloween!" And in the box was the delightfully odd electric tealight holder you see below.

Cozy, isn't she? The yellow flickering eyes in the very pink head are far more effective than the red bulb in the nightlight, don;t you think? No note this time but I didn't need one.

Most recently, I came home from picking up my Christmas Eve dinner from Wing Wah, to find a USPS Priority Mail package sitting in my carport. My sister's package had already arrived, as well as a package from friends who couldn't wait to see me to give me my gift. I looked for the sender only to see "Santa" with no return address. I knew immediately who it was from.

I ate my dinner, opened the rest of my mail and then set to the package. Inside was a letter and the most elaborate dolly of all. Wrapped in a blankie and painted yellow all over; her hair cut off and phrases, slogans and bits of poetry written all over her, she is quite magnificent! 

The letter reads: 

"ho ho ho Brian!

   "I fear you've not been naughty enough this year so was tempted to not deliver this wee child to you for the holidays.

   "Alas your creepy peeps network has informed me that exists (sic) in you a certain scorn for the Christmas merriment... the stories behind the story as it were.

"That has set you in my good graces and so I bestow upon you your very own baby - one of poetry for your reading pleasure as you sit by the fire.

   "So master yourself an icy cold martini, sit back and enjoy the season.

"All my best,

" Santa, the creepy one

"PS... my supply of treats for you has run low... but I have my sources and so perhaps we shall continue this adventure into yet another year"

The font colors are theirs. So they also know that I am an atheist and enjoy an icy cold Sapphire martini now and again. The plot thickens. Or does it? Loads of folks know that. The doll itself, is fascinating. She reminds me of something out of a Clive Barker movie.

On her face is: LETS DO EMPTY OUR POCKETS AND DISAPPEAR * MISSING ALL OUR APPOINTMENTS AND TURN ING UP YEARS LATER UNSHAVEN OLD CIGARETTE PAPERS STUCK TO OUR PANTS LEAVES IN *** OUR HAIR Her torso reads: LET US NOT WORRY ABOUT THE PAYMENTS ANYMORE LET THEM COME ND TAKE IT AWAY WHATEVER IT WAS WE WERE PAYING AND US WITH IT  On her left arm and side: I AM A SOCIAL CLIMBER CLIMBING DOWNWARD AND THE DESCENT IS DIFFICULT  On her right arm: THE UPPER MIDDLE CLASS IDEAL IS FOR THE BIRDS AND THE BIRDS HAVE NO USE FOR IT

On her left leg: LETS CUT IT OUT LETS GO TO THE REAL INTERIOR OF THE COUNTRY WHERE HOCKSHOPS REIGN MERE UNBLIND ANARCHY UPON US THE END IS NEAR BUT GOLF GOES ON. On her right leg: LET US ARISE AND GO NOW TO WHERE DOGS DO IT OVER THE HILL * WHERE THEY KEEP THE EARTHQUAKES BEHIND CITY DUMPS LOST AMONG GAS MAINS AND GARBAGE. On top of her head: JUNKMAN'S OBBLIGATO On the back of her head: LAWRENCE FERLING HETTI (the artist, perhaps?) MY BODY IS HUNG UP TOO LONG IN THE STRANGE SUSPENDERS GET ME A BRIGHT BANDANA FOR A OCKSTRAP (sic) On her back: LET US NOW YOU AND I LEAVING OUR NECKTIES BEHIND ON LAMPOSTS (sic) TAKE UP THE FULL BEARD OF WALKING ANARCHY LOOKING LIKE WALT WHITMAN A HOME MADE BOMB IN THE POCKET I WISH TO OESCEN (?) IN THE SOCIA (?) IS LOW On the back of her right arm: LOSE THE WAR WITHOUT KILLING ANYONE

So, Uncle P's question for you... Would you be freaked out, or just as amazed and amused as I am? That a friend or friends would go this far and long without cracking is just awesome. I know there will be a grand reveal, eventually and I will be face-palming myself for not figuring it out. Until them, I very much love this game!

More, anon.
Uncle P

Review: "Into the Woods"

Adapting stage musicals into films is very tricky in the 21st Century. If one thing doesn't work, the whole thing falls apart. For every Chicago there's a Nine or Rock of Ages. Even Les Miserables, the biggest stage musical in the world, didn't really work on film; it's theatricality lost in closeup after closeup. And don't get me started about the last time someone adapted Sondheim for the screen. The less said about Tim Burton's grim and humorless version of Sweeney Todd, the better. So I went to see Into the Woods with a bit of a chip on my shoulder. Yes, director Rob Marshall made the amazing Chicago but he also made the very-less-than-amazing Nine. I was encouraged by the trailers and knew I had to see it (I adore the show). So tonight, I met a Facebook friend for first time IRL (Hey, Michele!) and went to the 7:15 at an AMC I usually avoid, because it was central to both of us.

Let me start by saying that if nothing else (and there is plenty else), Into the Woods is a truly gorgeous movie to look at. It's almost like the first time you're old enough to realize that The Wizard of Oz goes from sepia to full color. Even though the majority of the action takes place at night, it's just stunning to look at. Director Rob Marshall assembled an amazing artistic team which includes his go-to cinematographer Dion Beebe who works wonders and costumer Coleen Atwood whose gorgeous pieces are truly magical. James Lapine's screenplay (based on his original libretto) does a nice job paring the show down to just over 2 hours without losing any of its emotional impact though the very amusing character of the Narrator is reduced to a few minutes of voice-over. If you aren't familiar, Into the Woods is about what happens after 'Happily Ever After' and combines the stories Jack & the Beanstalk; Cinderella; Rapunzel and Little Red Riding Hood by introducing us to a childless Baker and his Wife. When a witch bursts in and offers them a way to lift the curse that has kept them childless, everyone is off and running.

For the most part, the casting is perfect. Anna Kendrick uses her fine voice at its best as Cinderella and though new to American audiences, adorable Brit James Cordon is terrific as The Baker.* Daniel Huttlestone's Jack sounds exactly like his Gavroche and Lilla Crawford, making her feature debut, is perfect for this version of Red. The most surprising voice belongs to Chris Pine as Cinderella's Prince, whose sweet tenor in the duet "Agony" with Billy Magnussen as Rapunzel's Prince is lovely in a brilliantly staged scene amidst a rocky waterfall. There are also some really terrific supporting performances by Tracey Ullman as Jack's Mother; Christine Baranski as Stepmother; Lucy Punch and Tammy Blanchard as the step-sisters and screen legend Frances de la Tour as The Giant. Happily, Johnny Depp has only one number and few minutes of screen time as the Wolf. The man should never be allowed to sing on screen again. The truly overt sexual overtones of "Hello, Little Girl" were watered down, I imagine because of Crawford's age - Red is usually played by an adult and the Wolf's choreography, makeup and costuming are more suggestive on stage - though the lyrics weren't changed.

But I quibble, because all of them are simply outshone by Emily Blunt as The Baker's Wife and Meryl Streep as the Witch. In the original Broadway production, these roles were played by Theatre Legends Joanna Gleason and Bernadette Peters. They were iconic, indeed signature, performances. Happily, Blunt is more than up to the task as the story's most sympathetic character, with a sweet singing voice and total commitment to the role. Streep, of course, is always amazing and she takes the part and makes it her own. Her rendition of "Stay with Me" actually made me cry.

If you don't know the show, Rob Marshall's excellent adaptation is a good place to start. If you know and love the show as I do, then I think you'll be very pleased by it. Finally, film justice for Stephen Sondheim! A perfect Holiday Movie for Families and Musical Theatre Geeks alike! **** (Four Out Four Stars). Into the Woods is rated PG for "thematic elements, fantasy action and peril, and some suggestive material."

*Corden will soon be taking over for the departing Craig Ferguson on the "The Late, Late Show." 

More, anon.
Prospero

Silent Night

Merry Christmas!

Traditions, Both New and Old

Days Gone By (Not Our Real House)

It is still Christmas Eve in the U.S. as I write this and while Uncle P celebrates Christmas as a secular holiday in which we acknowledge, spend time and share gifts with those we love, for many it remains a deeply religious holiday celebrating the birth of their 'savior.' And since this isn't a post about religion, I'll leave that alone and get to the point.

While venturing out late in the afternoon to get a bottle of wine for tomorrow's dinner, I was struck by how the Holidays (like most of life) has changed over the years. Early Christmas memories evoke the many toys and gifts my mother's mother gave us each year, much to our father's consternation. The schadenfreude she derived from his jealously must have been some powerful juju! After she'd had a particularly good year in tips (she was a barmaid), our house was literally filled with presents and I'm surprised Dad didn't have a apoplectic stroke on the spot! At some point "Grandmom Cookie" (so-called because of her always full cookie jar) started spending Christmas Eve with us and we would open her presents then and Santa's and Mom and Dad's presents on Christmas morning. After she passed, we started opening all of our gifts on Christmas Eve. By then I was in college and working part time and Christmas Eve soon evolved into an open-house event where friends and co-workers came and went all night long, I still wonder how we fit so many people into that tiny house. I moved in and out of the house over the years following, but always managed to spend Christmas Eve there. New traditions for the evening continued to evolve after my parents divorced and other folks came into and/or left our lives. For a solid 10 years, Christmas Eve meant broasted* chicken from Chicken Holiday; Southern Comfort Manhattans; two embarrassing piles of presents; shrimp cocktail  and my rock, K. 

That changed again when Mom passed away last October and I spent Christmas Eve with my sister and BIL in Florida. The night before, K and M came over for chicken and such. And while we had a good time, the food wasn't up to their usual standards (I blame a different staff). So this year, even though I'm staying in PA, I decided to cook. On Sunday I made a lasagna and a Caramel Pumpkin Cream Cheese cake. Monday night I steamed and peeled a pound of shrimp and Tuesday night reheated the lasagna; glazed the cake and made cocktail sauce while frying up some battered green beans. Thank goodness M got here early, as I quickly dispatched him on a candle lighting mission. K arrived soon after and then lots of food and drink were consumed, presents were opened and much laughter was shared. 

While it was the first of several similar holiday experiences to come over the next few weeks, last night's Christmas Eve Eve has become what I hope will continue to be a new holiday tradition. For a while, at least. Until things change again, which is inevitable. Cultural traditions may seem steadfast and unchanging, but they are simply slower and less fluid than personal traditions.

I continue to be in awe of the family who have chosen me to a part of theirs, as much as I have chosen them.  K, Q, Dale, M, D and so many others never let me forget that I am not alone and never will be. And there's my astonishing sister. Strong, smart and always supportive, I can only hope you have a sibling who is half as amazing as she is (and yes, it's Christmas! I'm allowed to get gushy!). If you have even half the love in your life as I am blessed to, you know what I mean.

I have received (and will continue to do so) some very cool gifts (Mia's incredible "Zombie Batman" figurine got some stiff competition from Mary & Phil's Nightmare Before Christmas fleece and my sister's standing plush Mickey Skellington - all three of which are rendered in B&W).

None of that stuff, as cool as it may be, really matters.  Like all of us, these things will be dust in a thousand years. What matters is the love we share here and now. I guess what I'm saying is I am grateful for everyone who cares about me and bothers to read my nonsense. Be kind to one another. Know the difference between what does and doesn't matter. Give money or time to a charity that speaks to you, when and if you can. Smile at strangers. Say "Please" and "Thank You." Hold the door for the person behind you. Open the door for the person coming out ahead of you. Acknowledge those who do the same. Share the belief that most people are as good, but no better than, you. Never assume anyone is evil. Help people. Tell those you love that you love them as often as you can. Enjoy the things you have, but take nothing for granted. Enjoy your life. It's the only one you have!

Merry Christmas, my friends and readers! 

More, anon.

Uncle P.

*Pressure fried with no coating

Zombie Batman from Mia

Mickey Skellington from Barbara 

Sony's Own Sally Starr's Dilemma?

As I am sure you are all aware by now, Sony Pictures has decided not to release The Interview after threats from punk-ass hackers in North Korea. While I happen to whole-heartedly agree with our POTUS that Sony made the wrong choice, they were also faced with their own version of Sally Starr's Dilemma.

In case you've been living under a rock for the past month or so, let me quickly recap. The Interview is a movie starring Seth Rogen and James Franco, involving a talk-show host and his producer who are recruited by the CIA to assassinate North Korean leader Kim Jong Un while interviewing him for his first Western TV interview. And while North Korea apparently had no problem with a puppet version of Kim's father being killed in Trey Parker's and Matt Stone's Team America: World Police, a live-action satire about his son was just too much. Beloved Leader's crack team of cyber-bullies hacked Sony's internal files, revealing awkward emails from execs; personal information and SSI numbers of employees and threatening to bring about 9/11 style retribution against theaters that would dare show the film. After several theater chains decided not to exhibit the movie, Sony capitulated to the hackers' demands and pulled it's release, completely.

Personally, I am appalled that Sony gave in to these ridiculous demands, letting a tinpot dictator  quash Free Speech and Artistic Expression in a country whose First Constitutional Amendment expressly allows both. And it makes no difference whether the movie is good or bad (personally, I find most of the comedies Rogen and Franco have made together to be pretty hilarious - with the exception of Your Highness - even though they can hardly be considered "High Art"). 

At the same time, I understand Sony Picture's reluctance to be held accountable for any deaths and/or destruction which might have occurred during any screenings of the movie. It is literally a 'Damned If You Do/Damned If You Don't' situation.

Still...

Sony has paved the way for fear-mongering asshats to stop the release of any film that might be considered offensive or politically incorrect. If the Westboro Baptist Church had threatened violence against theaters showing Brokeback Mountain or Milk, would those films' studios have backed down? Unlikely. In fact, if detractors and haters had been given their way, AMC's list of the 100 Most Controversial Movies of All Time would undoubtedly not exist and we would never have seen classics like The Exorcist; A Clockwork Orange; Citizen Kane or Lolita, to name a very few.

So, where do we draw the line? Do we give into the fear of retaliation from a despotic regime of a very Third World country or do we continue to be the leaders of Free Speech and Artistic Expression? Do we let the Catholic League tell us something is obscene or do we decide for ourselves what we will or won't watch? As far as Uncle P is concerned, by giving in to these asshats, Sony has added another chip in the wall of Democracy that our forefathers fought so hard to secure. And that makes me very sad.

F*ck you, Kim Jong Un! F*ck you and anyone who tries to take away the freedoms so many Americans have fought for and died to protect. And F*ck you Sony Pictures for letting them do it!

More, anon.

Prospero

Time to Say "Goodbye?"

Is it time to pack it in, kids? It's been almost an entire month since I've posted anything. I've gotten so poor, I don't go to the movies even half as much as I used to. The last show I did seems like forever ago, already and I'm battling an early-onset bout of S.A.D. Vegas, while interesting and another city off my Bucket List, wasn't nearly as exciting as I'd hoped (being poor is no fun in Sin City). And Thanksgiving dinner alone in an Italian restaurant -- even if it is one of the best Italian restaurants in town -- is hardly a Holiday meal. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed my trip but I have no need to go back any time soon and I certainly wouldn't go alone, again. Still, it was better than my last Thanksgiving (shh... don't tell Auntie).

Uncle P's life has changed so drastically over the last 14 months... And while the promise of a fulfilling creative venture looms, nothing is set is stone. Everyday seems like a struggle... Oh, don't get me wrong. I'm not going anywhere. There's depressed and then there's depressed. I've been depressed and have no intention of going back there. This is most definitely NOT a suicide post. 

It is, however, about the possibility of ending Caliban's Revenge. That doesn't mean I'll stop using social media. Hardly. I seem to reach way more people on Facebook and Twitter (even though I hardly use Twitter) than I do here. And who's to say I wouldn't start a new blog about something different. Food, maybe. Cooking is one of my other great passions. "Prospero Cooks" That could work. 

Anyway, this is just an end-of-year ramble which may or may not signal the end of The Revenge. We'll see how well I survive the holidays before making any rash decisions. Just know that I am thrilled if you still read me. I'd be more thrilled if you let me know you still read me.

More, anon (at least once more),

Prospero

PS - The trailer for Mad Max: Fury Road is one of the many things that makes me want to live:

BOOM!!!

Ciao.

P