Showing posts with label My Friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label My Friends. Show all posts

Friday, December 26, 2014

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

Sunday, May 25, 2014

Az én családom

A húgom
While my mother's heritage was German, Scottish and Welsh, as kids my sister and spent much more time with Dad's decidedly Hungarian side of the family and primarily identify our cultural heritage as Hungarian. And therein lies the title of tonight's post which translates into English as "My family." 

My concept of family and the dynamics within my a family have changed a lot in the past seven months. A húgom (my sister) and the BIL have been here all this weekend, primarily to help me with work on my house. They spent all day Thursday working on installing my new washer; installing new locks on the downstairs doors; repairing my toilet and cleaning out tons of our mother's hoarded junk (Barb found 5 separate gallon jugs of windshield washer fluid in my shed and on my porch, which we assume Mom must have smuggled home from the car dealer where she worked). I came home from work Thursday night to be overwhelmed by what they had accomplished.

Today, the three of us went visit our decidedly Hungarian Auntie, who took us to lunch. Auntie, who will be 78 this September, is wracked by severe arthritis in her hips, knees and ankles, reducing her to basically a shut-in, so it was good to see her getting out of her condo, though I don't imagine she'll be with us much longer, either. Yes, that makes me sad. But it also again reminds me that we need to make the most of the time we have with the people we love.

I think a lot of my friends and family thought I was going to really fall apart when Mom passed away. I knew I wouldn't. Yes, I'm still in mourning, but I'm happy to prove to them that I am much stronger than they thought. I also am happy to acknowledge that most of the credit for my current strength goes to their love and support as part of my chosen family over many years. 

Of course, having a sibling who is also a best friend (and who understands you like no one ever can - we had a moment in Home Depot today that no one else would ever get) who is married to an awesome human being I am proud to call Brother, helps. And while I am not fond of the religious connotations such a phrase might invoke, I can only hope that all of you are as 'blessed' to have such an amazing natural and chosen family as Uncle P does, however dysfunctional it may be.



Nope, not that dysfunctional! Whew!

More, anon.
Prospero

Saturday, February 15, 2014

Missing My Real Life 'Big Chill' Reunion

Last February, I learned of the passing of a friend and college classmate with whom I and a group of other Theatre friends had shared some rather ridiculous, outrageous and very fun adventures in the 1980's. Of course, as many college friends do, we drifted apart after graduation. Some of us stayed in touch through an annual Christmas card or the occasional meeting. Then along came Facebook and we started finding each other again. And then Chris passed and we vowed to get together in Florida over this holiday weekend. 

Then a whole bunch of other crappy stuff happened and my mother passed, causing a major shift in my personal paradigm. I didn't want to be home alone for the holidays, so I opted to spend Christmas in Florida with my sister, making a second trip so soon after financially infeasible, much to my disappointment. These 12 or so folks and I spent a whole lot of time together doing theatre, camping and traveling and just hanging out. There was a particular rental house nearby where we tended to gather and inevitably, we'd end up around the piano, belting out show tunes, out-of-season Christmas carols and always, this song:



Of course the other song I so closely associate with this particular Band of Brothers and Sisters wasn't in our repertoire at 'The House,' but was often the last song of the night at special events:



Cheery, eh? But we were a cheery group of misfits and artists trying to figure crap out and having a hell of a time doing it! I have several very close friends from the same era, whom I see regularly. These folks I don't get to see nearly enough. These are the people with whom I shared 'escapades.' I was lucky enough to visit with the weekend's hostess at her farm while down in December. We tried Skyping earlier tonight, but I can't seem to make it work, also much to my disappointment. I shall try again, tomorrow. Honestly, I'm lucky I figured how to post this blog...

So this post is dedicated to my (mostly, slightly younger) TSC 80's Theatre Friends! I miss you guys and wish I was there with you. And while it's really apropos of nothing other than the 80's, here's a silly video that made me laugh. I hope they see it and laugh, too.



Love you guys! Missing you all so very much!

More, anon.
Prospero

Saturday, July 20, 2013

4.5 Minutes of Intensity and Genius

I know, I know. Anyone who cares has probably already seen this. In fact, I'm not even sure where I foumd it - probably via Facebook on the 'I Love The Walking Dead' page. It doesn't matter, really, anymore.

What matters is how amped up Season 4 seems to be, at least from the ComicCon trailer embedded below. To this I say: "HELL YES!!"

If you know me at all, you know I love horror movies and especially zombie movies. And I cannot wait until AMC's "The Walking Dead" regains the top spot on my Top Ten TV Dramas list this year (if I end up doing one... who the heck knows, anymore?). TWD's astonishing 6-episode Season One was truly ground-breaking television and deserved every accolade afforded it. Season Two was... slow, I suppose (hey - even "Lost" had Nicki and Paolo), but built to a very intense second half. Season Three was better than Two, but not up to Season One's quality, which I ascribe to the firing of series creator (and the single best film interpreter of the works of Stephen King), Frank Darabont.

Now under the direction of chief make-up designer Greg Nicotero, the folks at AMC certainly seem to have listened to the fans and considerably  raised the stakes for Season Four. Why do I doubt the trailer's final message? See for yourselves (and watch Full Screen):



Damn! I don't know who is more upset about waiting until October: Uncle P; My Sister; My Mother; My Coworker; My Other Coworker; My College Friend or My College Friend's Daughter. It doesn't matter because even after 3 seasons, I am stupefied by the fact that TWD (along with several other Horror/Fantasy/Sci-Fi shows) is Mom's favorite TV drama. She may not always understand the supernatural/Sci-Fi elements in many of these shows, but she sure appreciates compelling characters and exciting story-telling. The apple doesn't fall far... though it seems I've actually turned her opinion about genre entertainment, even if I have to explain it to her at length.  But that's not a bad thing at all.

More, anon.
Prospero