(I think everyone should have a magic wand!)
Knighting the cremains of my friend Laer in his Health Department-sealed Treasure Chest plus two plushy bats on the back of my couch with my brand new scepter, I trotted rather giddily about my apartment reveling in the simple joy that comes from wielding a Halloween toy prop. And faced with my heroic feline kitty sitting and staring at me like I was bat-shit crazy, I happily tapped her on the “shoulder”, regally dubbing her the “Duchess of Yak”, having cleaned up a hairball of hers a half an hour earlier.
(FYI, Duchess Pretty was NOT amused by the title and skulked off to the bedroom, apparently hoping that 6:30pm would arrive sooner rather than later and that cocktails would eventually calm me down…)
But as I’d received a text that I had the next day off from work, I found no reason not to thoroughly enjoy the afternoon!
Truth be told though, I got a bit bored after about twenty minutes; and Knighting the six foot black pine box in my living room “Sir Coffin Table”, I eventually put away the scepter.
I was six years old, and nobody wanted to play with me! (Duchess Pretty didn’t even bother to kneel!)
But hey, I had some grown-up tasks to tackle anyway: balancing the checkbook, maintaining logs of employment, hours worked, pay scales etc., and transferring a few notes into my daybook, I remembered that I had missed my Aunt G’s birthday.
Now if there’s only one human being on the planet that shares my love of the High Holy Holiday known as Halloween, it’s my Aunt G. And picking up the phone to call with belated birthday well-wishes, I told her about my scepter. Equally excited, she told me of her most recent exquisite find; a whiskbroom that follows you around the room! She also had her eye on a particularly eerie witch head, but until she was certain that it cackled wickedly, she wasn’t prepared to shell out the cash.
“Understood” I nodded simpatico; sharing her intolerance of the commercialized mass-produced ‘happy’ Halloween merchandise that has a knack for creating “friendly” versions of a celebration of the macabre.
“So, how’s work?” I asked casually, wondering how life and death were proceeding at her local mortuary.
And although we hadn’t actually spoken in a few years, we continued to chat and laugh until my cell phone died three hours later, with an additional twenty minutes on the landline. :)
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(Memories... like the Coroners of my mind...)
Invited to join friends for a “last hurrah!” over the weekend at my old watering hole before the new owners take over and re-title the West Hollywood landmark, I swallowed a swig of chilled voddy liquid-courage and hopped on the bus. And walking into the hole-in-the-wall pub, I waited for my eyes to adjust as familiar faces began emerging from the darkness.
Having habituated the premises on and off for fifteen years (not so much in the last six), I couldn’t quite knock the feeling of ghosts all around…
How many acquaintances had passed away?
How many friends had come and gone?
How many boyfriends did I meet there? *insert spine-tingling shudder*
Yet truth be told, I fell in love with my Rock Star Ex-Boyfriend at that pub. *insert melancholy sigh of “what might have been” were we “meant to be”*
And I even got to introduce my friend Steen to her current husband of 9 years!!! *insert beaming smiley face that they are still madly in love!*
Sure, I met some exciting celebrities there too (Oh, how I had horrifically ‘Ethel Mertzed’ Cindy Williams from “Laverne and Shirley”… In fact I may or may not have drunkenly sung “Schlemiel, schlimazel, hasenpfeffer incorporated!” to the tiny sit-com icon after gushing like an idiot, whilst she smiled most graciously and likely re-thought the necessities of hiring a private security guard…)
But I’d also made some true friends – those who will always be there for an “orphan’s holiday”; the times when our families are half way across the country and we would otherwise end up ‘celebrating’ all alone. (Or, you know, at home with a Duchess.)
Yet I found the entire experience incredibly surreal; and stepping outside for a breath of a fresh cigarette, my pal Big D joined me as we mused over the weirdness of the time-capsule inside the bar. There were many familiar faces to be sure, but occasional names were elusive to me as though we were attending a high school reunion…
Nevertheless I pulled out my digital camera, stealing a few photos to capture the moments; a small but very significant record of a lifetime ago.
And with a couple (?) more cocktails (and a very considerate drive home from a sober friend), I closed that particular chapter of my life, realizing that the people that matter to you the most will always be but a mere phone call away.
(That would be me, the camera-monger on the left, with five dear friends that I hope to never lose!)
And with a couple (?) more cocktails (and a very considerate drive home from a sober friend), I closed that particular chapter of my life, realizing that the people that matter to you the most will always be but a mere phone call away.
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Cheers to my fellow “Spooners”; thanks for the fun, the laughter, the drinks and the dart games - may your cups always runneth over! :)
And cheers to my Aunt G for getting shot between the eyes by a ricocheted bullet at a cowboy firing range and still maintaining her sense of humor! (Let’s hope she wears a helmet next time!)
Forever exploring the past to help make sense of the future,
~Medieval P (and the Duchess)
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