Red

There is no beautifier of complexion or form of behavior like the wish to scatter joy around us.

Ralph Waldo Emerson
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Hello Lily
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I'm red.

I guess I have always been a misfit, as far as the rest of the world is concerned, as far as the "normal people" are concerned. I'm called unusual, eccentric, paradoxical, bizarre. "That DB is weird."

I'm what they used to call a "nonconformist" especially when it comes to holidays. I almost never send out Christmas cards. One year I tried making my own. They were a disaster. I won't do that again. The only time I marched in a 4th of July parade I stopped the parade by getting the American flag caught in a tree. I spent one New Years Eve in Times Square. I never did that again even though I lived a few blocks away from it for 20 years. And I certainly don't go tricking or treating on Halloween, and never did as far as I can remember.

But a few decades ago I went to a Halloween party. Well, I didn't actually go to it. It came to me. I had been out of town doing a show and arrived back the day before Halloween to discover that my girl friend had planned a party and had invited a lot of people. It was too late for me to find any sort of costume, so I thought I would just make myself absent until the next day. But she insisted she wanted me at the party.

She had some bright red, shiny, material that she was never going to use, so she made some quick measurements of me, cut up the cloth, sat down at her sewing machine and made some trousers and a pull over shirt. It was a terrible fit, but it was temporary clothing anyway so it didn't matter. I had my make up case with me so I dug out the rouge and painted my face and my hands red. She found a red knit cap in her closet and put it on my head. We couldn't find any red socks, alas, and the red shoes (those ruby shoes) were still with Dorothy in Kansas as far as we knew. So from head to almost toe I was "Red."

Many people showed up at the party in all sorts of costumes, angels, ghosts, fairies, TV and cartoon characters. At first I was getting a lot of strange remarks. "Who are you?" "I'm red." Or "Are you supposed to be the devil?" "No, I'm red." Or "Red who?" "Just red." Or "You mean you're the color red?" "Yes. I'm red. Can't you tell?"

The food was being eaten, the beer and tequila flowed and folks were having a jolly time. Soon people got used to me and enjoyed the disguise. "Hey Red, you want another beer?"

After that I thought why not. Why do you have to dress up as some sort of humanoid. Why not come as a refrigerator or a tree, or a bass violin or a ballet slipper. Or a color.

Those who live outside the spectrum of the expected, the ordinary, the normal, the traditional, often see things others can't see.

The one red leaf, the last of its clan,
That dances as often as dance it can,
Hanging so light, and hanging so high,
At the top most twig that looks up at the sky.

(Samuel Taylor Coleridge)
(Thank you Sue)

DB - Vagabond Journeys
Never Give Up
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AUTUMN QUESTION

What event over the past year changed your life, a lot or a little?

Only 5 answers so far.

dbdacoba@aol.com

I eagerly await your answers.
DB
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Trick Or Treat

Don't forget that no matter how elegant and sophisticated the wood pile may be there is probably always a snake in it.

Bate - The Vagabond
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This is a true story.

I was working as the stage manager for a small theatre in New England. One night a couple of days before we opened a show, it was very late, everyone else had left after a long day's work and I was the last one to lock up and go home. But since I had to be there first thing in the morning and since my home was a good half hour walk away and I was exhausted, I decided to spend the night in the theatre. That was a mistake.

I made sure all the doors were locked, put down a bedroll in the lighting booth which was small but big enough to stretch out in, turned off all the lights and lay down for a well earned night's sleep.

But in a few moments I heard a strange noise. It was a high pitched squealing, scraping noise, as if small pieces of metal were being scraped together. Scrape, scrape. Scrape. It went on at irregular intervals.

I knew I wouldn't get to sleep until I found whatever it was and stopped the noise. So I turned on the work lights, left the booth and went out onto the stage. The audience area almost surrounded the stage and I could see all the seats. They were all empty. I checked between the rows thinking that maybe a lighting instrument had been left and was responsible somehow for the scraping noise. I found nothing.

I went into the lobby and turned on the lights. There were windows along one side. I thought maybe a window was open and blowing in the wind. But they were all closed up tight. The lobby door was closed and locked.

Then I heard it again. Scrape, scrape. Scrape, scrape. It was coming from another part of the building. So I left the lobby and went down the hall behind the audience area, checking through everything as I went.

Then I heard it again. Scrape. It was coming from another corner of the building and sounded as if it was from the costume area. I climbed the flight to that room and went carefully through all the clothes that were hanging there, made sure the sewing machines were turned off and the iron. Everything was as it should be.

Then I heard it again, louder now. Scrape, scrape. Scrape, scrape. Scrape, scrape. It seemed to be coming from below me.

By now I was beginning to get frightened. I went cautiously back down the stairs. To my left was the lighting booth I had originally come from. Off of it was the stage door and a lounge room for the actors. I went in there and flicked on the light. I was startled by how bright the light was. The whole room was flooded with bright light. I stood still for a moment as my eyes became adjusted to it. But at last I looked all around the room. People had left some personal items there but there was nothing that would account for the scraping noise I heard.

Then I heard the sound almost directly behind me. SCRAPE! I quickly shut off the light, turned and stepped to the stage door which was closed and locked. I opened it to see if it was making noise on it's hinges. It wasn't. Near the door was a desk with a swivel chair behind it, There was nothing on the desk but a telephone and a basket. Across from the desk was a coat rack with metal hangers on it. I moved some of them back and forth trying to recreate the sound, but they were not the source.

Perplexed, I went and sat down at the desk. There was no one in the theatre but me, I had made sure of that, but I still could not discover the source of that scraping noise. Exhausted I leaned back in the chair and right under me was the sound. SCRAPE!!. It was the springs on the bottom of the swivel chair scraping together.

That sound could not be made except if someone sat in that chair and leaned back. But I was the only one in the building. I knew that. I quickly stood up, letting one more scrape happen as the chair righted itself, left the theatre, letting the stage door close and lock behind me and walked home.

All theatres have ghosts, they say, if you believe in ghosts, As for me, I never again spent a night or a day alone in that building.

Dana Bate
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Happy Halloween
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Weekend Puzzle

Here are several groups of things. In each group one of them does not belong. Guess what I want you to do.

1. apple, cumquat, lime, persimmon, tomato

2. Christmas, Halloween, Independence Day, Labor Day, Thanksgiving

3. Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Colombia, Venezuela

4. mackerel, salmon, shark, tuna, whale

5. Ibsen, Marlowe, Shakespeare, Shaw Sheridan

6. cranium, femur, iliac, trapezium, ulna

Good luck
DB
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Eveyone Enjoy! 11/18/08

It is a happy talent to know how to play.

Emerson

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It's Holiday Hopping Time


For y'all in the South it's "Ho hum, another Winter." But for us'ns in the North, Winter is a challenge. And the way we get through is by making a big deal out of every chance we get to kick up and have some fun.

Halloween is over, with it's ghosts and fairies, the Walpurgisnacht for kids. That was fun. Now comes Thanksgiving, the turkey's dreaded day, but a smash hit for humans ever since the pilgrims.

Now there's a long stretch of time during which Winter begins, as if we didn't know already. Nothing to do now but go out with red noses and do our holiday shopping, if we have any money left. Sit on Santa's lap and ask him if he could take care of our debts.

Then the big one hits: Christmas, Chanukah, Kwanzaa and whatever else folks can find to celebrate. Much congregating in churches and otherwise. Much getting together with people you may, in fact, like but only see once a year. Much unwrapping of gifts and throwing away of wrapping paper. Much eating of food, some of it no good for you. Much standing under the mistletoe. For my Canadian friends there's a Boxing Day in there somewhere (watch out for that left jab).

Now somehow we've go to make it to New Years Eve when we either drink too much or we go to Times Square (not recommended) or both, or we spend a quiet evening at home and hope for a better year.

Now comes the hard one. It's cold. The only things we get to celebrate are snow, ice, freezing rain, slippery side walks and icy streets. If you're lucky enough to go skiing, that's fun. But don't kid yourself. It's still cold.

When we finally reach into February, the dead of Winter, those of us in Pennsylvania can go and watch Punxutawney Phil come out of the ground, look around, see all the gawkers taking his picture and dive back down into his hole.

My Chinese friends get a New Years celebration next. Out come the dragons and the fire crackers. They help brighten up the drear.

Then we get to Hallmark's Day. Sorry, I mean Valentine's Day. You didn't know you had so many sweet hearts, did you? Or so few? Never mind, if you're Irish, you get another chance.

So now we inch along to Washington's Birthday where every thing goes on sale and everyone goes mad. Stay out of Macy's basement if you know what's good for you.

I get to have a birthday somewhere in this mix of holidays and celebrations. And though I'm hitting the big seven oh, I have no close friends or family around me, so who cares? I'll have a beer and congratulate myself.

Speaking of beer, I think it's one of Ireland's national beverages and one day a year it turns green. In New York there's a big parade up Fifth Avenue right past Saint Patrick's Cathedral and right into the bars. They've already been to church, those that go to church, and then it's time to "get acquainted." The Irish know how to have fun, "Kiss Me I'm Irish." It's better than the mistletoe.

Whoops! The calendar says it's Spring. You wanna bet?

May Day. Mom's Day. And before you know it it's hot, sweaty, scorching Summer again.

Happy hopping everyone.


DB