Walking Past the Magna Carta

Sorry for the lack of posting the last four days. First I was giving thanks, and then I was suffering what feels like Cold #1,386 this year. In fact, I am still suffering from it so who knows how much sense this post will make?

Today I will recount one of the most bitter experiences of my life. When I was in middle school, the Magna Carta went on some kind of whirlwind tour, complete with a tour bus that said "MAGNA CARTA" in ginormous dayglo letters, as if the Magna Carta were a rock star or something. It stopped in our town, and every single pupil in public school was forced to wait in a seemingly endless line to enter the brightly-colored tour bus and gaze upon the document upon which our own Constitution is supposedly modeled. I was hugely excited to be seeing this piece of history, and something written in 1215 seemed inconceivably old to me in those days. (Now that I have seen the actual Dead Sea Scrolls and other antiquities, 1215 seems so, you know, Middle Aged, not ancient.) Most of the other kids in line were just excited to get out of school for basically the whole day (I mean it - this was the mother of all lines we were waiting in), and the rock star-looking tour bus wasn't enough to interest them in some old piece of vellum. I, however, could hardly wait to see the actual Magna Carta.

Finally it was my turn to enter the neon-colored bus and see this seminal piece of Western history, and I wondered what language it would be in. I remembered hearing that there were four extant copies of the original 1215 version, and that two were in Latin, one was in French, and one was in the vernacular - Middle English, I suppose. When I got into the bus, some men told me gruffly to keep moving. Now I had not spent half my life in line with a bunch of brats who didn't care just to be told I got to walk past the Magna Carta without looking, so I dared to turn my head and look at the document. At that, one of the men barked, "Keep moving!" so I had to continue walking. All I saw was something that looked like a piece of yellowing rubber that had been scribbled on by a very dull pencil. Forget what language it was in - I didn't even get a good look at the thing!

To this day I have never gotten over the disappointment of having to walk past the Magna Carta, although later I learned there were all sorts of versions signed throughout the Thirteenth Century, so who knows which one it actually was? Just to add insult to injury, that evening in the local paper they had a story about some kid who had clearly gotten there much earlier in the day and was allowed to actually peruse the thing. They even had a photo of her peering at the glass-enclosed document with a puzzled look on her face, probably thinking, "What's the big whoop about this thing?" So all the adults in town could think the kiddies had an educational experience seeing an actual piece of history, and they had no idea they RUINED MY LIFE!!!

Famous Hat

A (Hypothetical) Li'l Joint

My plant Dracaena Marginata (aka "Keith") is at it again - now it's bored and lonely, being the only plant in my office, and it is writing letters to hip hop artists. (I was the one who first imagined this collaboration, but Toque was the one who suggested Keith write the artists in question a letter.) Since the President is much easier to reach than the average hip hop artist, it has not actually sent this letter yet, but it would appreciate anyone who knows Li'l Jon or Li'l Wayne forwarding this on to them.

Dear Li'l Jon/Wayne,

I may just be a humble houseplant, but I am a huge fan of both of you, and I can’t help noticing that Li'l “Pottymouth” Wayne is in every hip hop song and Li'l “Dr. Teeth” Jon is in all the other hip hop songs. I feel it is time you combine your instantly recognizable li'l voices in what could roughly be called “harmony” and record a song together. I imagine it might sound something like this, after the radio sensors have bleeped out the naughty parts.

LW: Shawty got a Coke bottle figure
LJ: OH YEAH!!!
LW: Shawty say that I her favorite nurp urp*
LJ: YEEAAAHH!!!
LW: Shawty say that I a low slob
LJ: YEAH LADIES!!!
LW: Shawty give me a blurp jurp+
LJ: SHAKE YOE BOOTY!!!
LW: Shawty wanna go down to China
LJ: COME ON!!!
LW: I wanna exploe her vurp urp@
LJ: OHHHH YEAHH!!!
LW: Shawty think that I a trucker
LJ: SHAKE IT, LADIES!!!
LW: But I a real murp furp#
LJ: YEEAAHHH!!!

Adults, feel free to look below to see what the censors bleeped out. Kids, don’t look!

* nitrogen user
+ botany journal
@ venation
# monocot flora

I hope this gives you some inspiration for this epic li'l collaboration.

Sincerely,
Dracaena Marginata

Unfortunately, Keith would have even more trouble suggesting a "Big Joint" than a "Li'l Joint," because while it may be hard to reach living hip hop artists, I cannot imagine it would have any luck sending a letter to Big Pun and Notorious B.I.G. (dona eis requiem) suggesting they collaborate. Still, imagine how cool that would be! It could be called "Still Not a Hypnotized Playa."

Famous Hat

The Magic Bonomobile

Here are some photos of Rich's car, the Bonomobile. As you can see from this first photo, it is a sort of slate blue color in most lighting.


But just this past Saturday, a coating of dust settled on the hood that makes it appear red in sunlight. We wondered if it is from Rich's home planet, because that was the day he drove the Mothership home. (The official story was he drove her to the "airport" so she could catch a "plane" to head back "East.")

It was really noticeable when you looked through the windshield! See below.

And it was definitely on the windshield itself. What kind of crazy dust is this??

My car, Erin Caitlin O'Honda, is still green. I do not have a photo of her, but I do have a sign I made for her at a local Irish fest one summer. This is my first attempt to write in Celtic calligraphy, and in my opinion it didn't turn out too badly.

Famous Hat

Famous Hat Sings (and Sings and Sings and Sings...)

Saturday I had the best day! I went to the bank for $2 bills and also managed to get two Eisenhower dollars! Then I had a coupon for a free coffee at a local cafe, and then I drove to the orchard where my band played last month, because I still had almost $10 worth of credit. I got about $13 worth of produce, and the cashier said, "Let's just call it even." Awesome! Then I went home to see if my good luck extended to my washing machine magically working again, but no. When Rich asked me why I had attempted to use it when I knew it was broken, I said, "It had a whole week to think about its behavior so I was hoping that it had thought better of the whole thing." Having a Y chromosome, Rich just doesn't understand that machines think, so he pointed out that a washing machine is incapable of being repentant. Anyway, I brought my soggy laundry over to his house and finished it there. Then I played ePlush on his computer Aquinas and actually completed the word game! I had no idea you could even win it! It was a beautiful day so he, Kathbert, and I went for a walk in the woods. Some sort of magic dust got on the Bonomobile so that while it still appeared slate blue at most angles, in bright sunlight and through the windshield the hood appeared red. Rich took some photos, which I hope to post on here at some point. (I tried to get him to make a movie of it, but I'm not sure he ever did.) Then we went to a "pre"-Thanksgiving dinner with the typical fixings and Rich's world-renowned chocolate mousse for dessert.

Yesterday I tortured Rich by having him help me make another music video, which is featured on my previous post. He got so into making my hat dance that he said it hurt his shoulder! He even got the little mandolin to shake when I played a tremolo on the real mandolin. I had a problem during the first take; as I was watching the hat bounce around on the screen with its little mandolin, I started to laugh.

"It looks so ridiculous!" I gasped.

"Of course!" said Rich matter-of-factly. "Isn't it SUPPOSED to be ridiculous?"

Yes, but I hadn't realized just how successful it was.

While I personally have no interest in being famous, my hat is already famous, so it has no qualms about being in lots of music videos. Can you believe "Stupid Texan" has already been viewed by 80 people? That's like an average of ten a day! And I have many more songs for my hat to sing. I almost have A-Joz and Hardingfele convinced to do three-part harmony like the Andrews Sisters on a VERY brief song about Montauk Point, plus there is the "All-Purpose Tropical Song," a blues song about Georgia, a torch song about the Etruscans, and a disco song about Boethius. I can totally flood YouTube with videos of my hat singing! Judging by the response to "Stupid Texan," tens of people have been dying to watch a hat wearing sunglasses sing and play the mandolin.

Famous Hat

Famous Hat Joint: Rabbit Lullaby

Here is another Famous Hat joint for my bunnies, Charlie and Cashmere. The lyrics are as follows:

Charlie, Charlie, you sailed away,

Cashmere, Cashmere, for a year and a day,

Charlie, Charlie, you sailed so far,

Cashmere, Cashmere, following a star.

You sailed to an island where the ocean was calm,

The sand was all white and the trees were all palm.

You played in the surf and you played in the sun,

Oh, Charlie and Cashmere, you had so much fun.

(chorus)

Your boat hit the sand and you hopped out to see,

You said, "I wonder what this lovely place could ever be?

The sand is so white and the sky is so blue!"

Oh, Charlie, I wish I could sail with you!

(chorus, bridge, chorus)

Banana for breakfast and banana for lunch,

Of banana you ate a whole bunch.

You slept all night in a little grass hut

And you drank all your water from a big coconut!

(chorus)

And here I am performing it:

Tales from the Mothership

Richard Bonomo's mother has lots of great stories. In fact, I will tell you the best one today.

When the Bonomos lived in the Mideast many years ago, they knew a British man who once gave a wealthy Bedouin a ride home. This Bedouin tried to thank him by giving him a sheep, and it wasn't a cute little fluffy white sheep like what we are used to, but a big, smelly sheep with long, stringy fur like dreadlocks. Of course it is bad form to refuse a gift in the Mideast, so the British gentleman, thinking quickly, said that he was a very poor person who lived in a small apartment instead of a large tent, and he had no land and no sons and only one wife, so he had no way to care for the sheep. All the Bedouins were very sympathetic: "No sons! Only one wife! You must be a very poor man!" and so they agreed to care for the sheep for him.

Now in reality, this British gentleman was quite rich and lived in an expensive apartment in an exclusive neighborhood, but as he told the Mothership, he had nowhere to put a big, smelly sheep. The Mothership, who is Sicilian and not British, said her father once kept a lamb in the bathroom in their apartment for several days, and he even butchered it in the bathtub. She said that proved you could keep a sheep in an apartment. She was laughing so hard at him that the British gentleman exclaimed, "If you do not desist in this unseemly laughter, I shall be forced to retrieve my sheep and place it in your bathtub!" (Imagine someone with an East Coast accent imitating someone with a stuffy British accent saying that.)

Famous Hat

Misanthropic Anthropologist

I was shocked to read that Claude Levi-Strauss died recently, mostly because I had no idea the guy was still alive. Back in the Cretaceous Era when I was in college, he was already considered the great-grandfather of anthropology. (No, he had nothing to do with blue jeans.) Good old (and I mean OLD) Claude was a month shy of 101 when he shuffled off this mortal coil, but the thing that most fascinated me about him was that by the end of his life, he totally hated humanity. What does it say about humans when someone who has devoted his life to studying them decides they are vile creatures?

My theory is that the esteemed anthropologist was studying the following types of humans, which is why he hated all of us:

Politicians: I just read that 1% of the US population are millionaires, but 44% of the members of Congress are. Who wants to be represented by people who have no clue what your life is like? I think all presidents should pass the "Abe Lincoln" test of having been born in a log cabin they built with their own hands. Bush failed this test miserably, as did his opponents. (Toque once told me a great Bush joke: an advisor told him there had been a plane crash in Rio de Janeiro and 53 Brazilian citizens had died, so Bush asked, "How many zeros is that?" OH!!) I don't get why people act like our current president is either the Messiah or the Antichrist, but at least he has some life experience that doesn't involve country clubs. (Though I would argue not enough to merit a Nobel Peace Prize, but that's another post.)

Frat Boys: This one goes without saying. When I was in college the average frat boy thought "interior decoration" consisted of a bunch of Christmas tree lights shaped like red chili peppers, neon beer signs, and stolen street signs. Chili lights and beer signs are of questionable taste but are morally neutral, but stealing street signs could be dangerous. Does the average member of I Tappa Kegga really need that stop sign more than the people at the intersection he swiped it from? Though I have to admit that it was hilarious the summer I subleted a room on Frat Row, and one evening we saw several frat boys running down the street with a giant theta. Oddly, we never saw any other frat boys from the de-thetaed frat house running around, asking people, "Have you seen anyone around here with a giant theta?"

Journalists: The average newspaper writer is supposedly unbiased, but you wouldn't know that from what any of them write. When the Pope recently reached out to dissatisfied Anglicans to offer them a home in the Catholic Church, the papers just went on and on about how Benedict was fishing in Anglican waters, without mentioning that the Anglicans have been begging for this deal for over a decade. And what's with the term "anti-choice"? I am totally opposed to abortion, but I am not opposed to choices. A woman could choose to only have sex if she knows she can raise the child, since in fact a child is supposed to be the end result of sex. She could choose to raise the child herself or give it to another family in a better position to raise it. Are these not choices??

Anyone in Hollywood: This one needs no other explanation, but feel free to refer to my post yesterday regarding my Oscar-winning screenplay.

Financial Types: If your friend lent you some money because you were broke, and you then came into a lot of money, would you not pay your friend back? Maybe even with a little extra to thank him? But if you work for a big bank and the taxpayers lend you a whole bunch of money, and then business improves, you do not feel the need to pay the taxpayers back, unless giving yourself a ginormous bonus counts. And then they wonder why people hate them...?

Famous Hat