your source for all things dan: charades

Wednesday, October 31, 2007

charades

I don't like Halloween. It's a boring holiday whose resulting ennui is trumped only by Thanksgiving and its multi-day torture of lukewarm turkey, awkward conversations, and Detroit Lions football. That said, I know that a lot of you are still excited for Halloween and want to impress your peers with a clever costume[1], so I feel obligated to share with you what is probably the best Halloween costume idea you have ever heard; I can't remember if I came up with it myself or not, but in the absence of evidence to the contrary, I will take credit for it here. Prepare to be inspired.

A surefire way to be a hit at your next Halloween party is to dress like a Flintstones vitamin. I'm sure you've seen lots of guys dress as Fred Flintstone, but it's always in the official orange and black outfit; it's a pretty popular costume and you can get it at most stores. To be truly innovative, though, you need to take this costume and paint over it so that it's monochromatic[2] while still allowing the pattern to show through. You can then use face paint to make your face, arms, and legs the same color; if you're really committed, you'll get some temporary hair dye so that your hair will match as well. When you're finished, you'll look just like the Fred Flintstone vitamins that you used to have each morning with breakfast. The public will adore you.

Extra Credit: Children of the 70s and 80s will recall that there was no Betty Rubble vitamin in the original Flintstones Vitamin collection (she first appeared in 1996). If you're a woman who wants to get in on this great idea, you could dress as a Betty Rubble vitamin and impress the socks off of all the trivia geeks who ask about your costume.

[1] Unless you're female, in which case you'll probably be dressing as a vampish [noun].

[2] I suggest purple or red.

Labels: culture, narcissism

0 Comments:

who

dan jemiolo

where

cary

elsewhere

recently

less recently

07/200708/200709/200710/2007

history

I guess we should start with kindergarten. My parents enrolled me in a local Catholic school despite the fact that we a) had no money and b) weren't Catholic. It was a very tumultuous time in my life. My teacher was the meanest I would have until my sophomore year of college, when a stubborn Korean man tried to teach me formal languages and automata using only six words of English. While I was in kindergarten, I met a beautiful little blonde girl named Erica whom I adored for the entire year. She always seemed kind of interested in me, but I could never get her to commit to anything.

Every so often, our teacher would stop giving us condescending lectures about our relative intelligence and read to us. One day, she brought in a new book, Danny and the Dinosaur, and I fell in love with it before she had finished reading. I asked if I could borrow the book, and she agreed to lend it to me for a few days.

I took the book home and I never brought it back.

It never occurred to me to ask for my own copy of the book. At some point, I decided that if I mentioned the book to my parents, they would put the pieces together and figure out that I had already stolen it. I hid the book under my mattress so no one would find it; every so often I would sneak it out to read it, but it would never sit beside the many other dinosaur books that lined my bookshelf. I was a fugitive.

And I still couldn't get the girl, so I was a heart-broken fugitive. Erica and I would always end up playing with Mike Verville, and he would suck up all of her attention. Mike happened to be my best friend, so I couldn't bad-mouth him, but it seemed like Erica would fawn over him for even the slightest thing; I was a clear second place.

My only respite came from the other members of my class, who had no academic prospects at all (at least, that's what our teacher told them). When we read Stone Soup in class, the teacher decided it would be fun if we actually made stone soup; everyone brought in supplies, and we made a fairly bland chicken soup. Unfortunately, one kid (Philip) managed to get his part wrong; this was pretty hard to do, since the book described stone soup as a bunch of random stuff thrown into water. The teacher pointed this out to the rest of the class and chewed him out.

Stone soup may seem trivial compared to reading and arithmetic, but kids are very impressionable at that age, and you can't let them slip up. If you don't get stone soup right, you won't be able to pass the SSAT (Standard Soup Achievement Test), and if you don't pass that, then you won't get into the smart kids' reading group in first grade, and then you'll never make the honor roll, and then you will fail out of school and spend the rest of your life working at Dollar General, blowing all of your money on Keno and cheap European cigars.

At the end of kindergarten, I had learned three things:

Adults should not be trusted.
Uniforms were uncomfortable.
Girls will only pay attention to you if you ignore them.

The next twenty years served to more or less confirm all of this, so I'm just going to gloss over them:

I grew up in Rhode Island. There were five Dunkin' Donuts within a mile of my home. My town was filled with people who, at any given moment, were working at a strip mall or spending money at a strip mall. After almost two decades of eating donuts and buying things we didn't need, my friends and I graduated from high school. Diploma in hand, I moved to New York so I could learn about computers and develop a caffeine addiction.

By the time I was halfway through college, I had grown tired of the Northeast lifestyle. Too hectic, too greedy, too frustrating. Too damn cold. I moved to North Carolina after graduation, and it makes me happy. There are more trees here.

I currently work for a big, blue company, where I spend my days building air castles with imaginary Legos. It's a lot of sitting and typing. Sometimes just sitting, if I have a lot of meetings on my calendar.

When reading this blog, please keep in mind that I am but a lowly programmer, and nothing I say here reflects on the attitudes, decisions, or future plans of the other people working for my employer. You should not put stock in anything I say (literally), nor should you assume that corporate executives are reading this blog and making decisions based on my input. If I were that important, I wouldn't be sitting here typing to you people.