Sunday, October 11, 2009

Crazy Crap Item #246: The part where I finally recount the doings of our summer block party

It's October now, and there's a pre-winter chill in the air. Which means it's high time -- well past high time, in fact -- that I recount our most recent block party.

The date was August 29, 2009. The theme: the '70s.

Those of us involved in the planning and execution of this theme had concerns. Was the '70s too vague a theme? Would it even be grasped by the younger set, who bring such hilarity to these events.

Our concerns proved to be ill-founded, as the first ever 1970s block party proved to be, possibly, THE GREATEST BLOCK PARTY IN THE HISTORY OF MANKIND.

Here's a bulleted blow-by-blow of the doings, viewed, as always, from my point of view. Allowances are to be given for any of my biases or limitations in my perspective, as I am the one doing the typing, and therefore have a right to edit, enhance, or embellish as I see fit.



  • Morning started early, as always, at 9am, with coffee and donuts at the Bertogs. The traditional repast was enhanced by a variety of theme-appropriate treats including Honeycomb cereal (Honeycomb's big... yeah, yeah, yeah!) and Pop-Tarts.
  • Before visiting the breakfast buffet, however, I slipped outside to construct my "What's Your Sign" house display, the designated design for this party. Some, including the Harris-Wattses, opted for a pictorial display of the astrological signs of family members. I, however, realized that since my sign is Leo, my good friend Lulu the Lion (originally named Frazier on account of mistaken gender) could play a role in my display. And thus she did.
  • I then slipped into my costume for the day, a look my father has dubbed pregnant Earth Mother -- which would be fine, if I was actually pregnant. Daishikis, I have found, are not flattering.

Since I've mentioned my costume, I feel I should enumerate the get-ups of others.

Now, on with the day, and the next big event:

Lunch followed, a psychelic hot dog fest offered by Megan Calto, and then an afternoon of lounging and hijinks, which included:

As afternoon shifted to early evening, the mood changed, the tunes cranked and we enjoyed:

  • Era-appropriate hors-doevres including my patented rumaki and cheesy delicacy smuggled from Wisconsin by the traitorous O'Connors.
  • Live jazz hits offered up by Jon Hey and one of his many fantastic musical ensembles.
  • An aborted cocktail contest, which ended up being merely a frenzied binge of exotic liquors hosted by Kevin.

Also to be noted are the creative activities of some of the young ladies of the block -- namely Bridget Verdon and the Brenner twins, Claire and Simone. In addition to enhancing my astrological display with a romantic dinner salad crafted from grass clippings and an exploration of the possibilities of the questionable beaded curtains I had purchased from Uncle Fun, these young ladies craftily constructed a "hippie van" from cardboard boxes, a wagon and embellishments, seen here flanked by me and my good friend, Mr. Christopher Piatt.

The cocktail hour was followed by a potluck dinner buffet featuring taste treats from the era, many in casserole form.

Afterwards, we premiered an all-new and soon-to-be repeated tradition, our rendition of The Gong Show. Sadly, no photos or video exist, as the event took place after hours, but here are some highlights:

  • We constructed a gong, consisting of the Daly trash can lid (painted gold) hanging from a ladder.
  • Chris Cancilla donned his best Chuck Barris wig and a fine be-ruffled suit for his role as emcee.
  • Celebrity judges included Mark Spitz (aka Tim O'Neil), Jamie Farr (aka Christopher Piatt), and JP Morgan (Katie Heilman, seen here with me).
  • Winning acts included Calvin Keyes burping the alphabet and teeny Caroline Verdon dancing to her mother's ring tone.
  • James and Jack Casey also treated us to a jaw-dropping magic act, while Jim sang and accompanied himself on the guitar. Ann Casy, however, trumped them all, placing among the prize winners with her singing of the Coke song and God Bless America to the accompaniment of a lit sparkler while donning a costume approximating the statue of liberty.
  • Gonged acts included: mine (fish riddles told via ventriloquism with a barracuda puppet); Sam's amazing sock-and-ball maneuver (ball in sock, swung around); a duo of pre-teens attempting "Who's on First"; Rose and Annie presenting "Pigs in a Blanket" (oinking loudly while wrapped in a blanket); young Matthew Waller and Casey Cancilla clashing in light-sabre combat. Many other also, too numerous to recount.
  • Bridget and the Brenner twins dazzled many of us with their original song about the '70s, which I am still humming.

The best-remembered high point, I believe, was the quickly gonged original sketch featuring a hot-tempered John McEnroe, who jeered the crowd after his defeat. At the end of the show, he returned to the stage, and berated the audience, whipping the children into a frenzy. Soon, he took chase, with the entire contingency of Edgewater children on his feet. As judging and prizes were determined, he and his hooting, angry mob swept up and down the street, and included among their ranks a pogo-sticking Casey Cancilla. It was surreal, to say the least.

After prizes were awarded, a screening of the Brady Bunch followed for the kids. The remaining grownups, now in high spirits, retired to the benches to enjoy a wood fire, frosty beverages, and an extended booty dance by Megan. And thus, the '70s party ended as the '70s themselves had, in a haze of debauchery and shoddy pop culture.

Tuesday, October 06, 2009

Crazy Crap Item #245: The part where James ensures his own survival

Halloween is less than a month away and, as such, I spent a lovely Sunday afternoon decorating. I've yet to document this year's splendor, but it's very similar to last year's, which can be seen here.

As always, I was assisted by many small "helpers," who offered up useful suggestions, sage opinions, and dubious hand-eye coordination, all in support of my efforts.

Young James Casey, newly turned 5, was particularly assiduous in offers of "help," viewing my decorating activities as an opportunity to slip into my house, harass Eamon (who was ailing on the couch), bang on our keyboard, and otherwise explore. So bold he was, in fact, that as I was rooting in the basement at one point, I heard tiny footfalls on the floor above me. I was, as a result, not surprised when he appeared, cautiously working his way down our rather rickety and cobweb-festooned basement stairs.

James: Watcha doing?

Kay: Talking to Pumpkinhead.

For those unaware, Pumpkinhead is a legend in a neighborhood, a figure of mystery and terror. He made his debut some years ago, on Halloween. Appearing at first as a large pumpkin perched upon a festive holiday display, he would leap up when approached and menace costumed passers-by, to terrifying effect.

Pumpkinhead's first arrival inspired nothing but terror on the block. But soon, cooler heads prevailed. Around age 5, the smaller denizens of Norwood begin to suspect that Pumpkinhead is indeed Eamon. But they aren't quite sure yet, and there's too much at stake to assume he does not, indeed, exist.

On one occasion, James' brother Jack discovered the pumpkinhead itself in my basement, and loudly announced, "See! Pumpkinhead is Eamon!" To which I replied, "...Or, Eamon defeated Pumpkinhead, captured him, and trapped him down here to keep you all safe." This gave Jack much food for thought, and he soon began proposing the rules by which Pumpkinhead operates. To wit:

"If you say Pumpkinhead's name while in Kay's basement, he will come to life and chase you."

Now, at age 8, Jack seems pretty assured that Pumpkinhead is but a costume. James, however, is not so sure. Which brings us back to last Sunday.

James: What are you talking about with Pumpkinhead?

Kay: I'm asking him which child he intends to grab on Halloween.

James (decidedly): He should grab Sam.

Kay: No, he wants a smaller child.

James: Well, if Miles and Nolan come to our block, he should grab Nolan.

Kay: He says he wants someone a little bigger.

James: Then he should grab Miles.

Kay: No, he wants someone with lighter hair.

[James begins to nervously stroke his blond forelock.]

James: He should grab Jack.

Kay: I think he wants someone a little smaller.

[Pause.]

James: Are you giving me clues?

Kay: Yes.

James: I want to decide. Tell him to grab Sam.

James may not know if Pumpkinhead is real, but he surely knows how to save his own bacon.