These are not just balloons-they are works of art!--he cried

Mr. Owl & I went to the opening reception at BYU for an exhibit of Andy Warhol and some other guy.
I had a friend who remembered his art collecting father  pulling something out from underneath the bed whenever they needed money- like an Andy Warhol silk screened shopping bag.

This was my first thought as we walked up to the BYU Museum of Art. Mr Owl's first thought was, "WOW, I shouldn't have forgot my hipster glasses and skinny jeans at home." I haven't seen such a concentration of trendy since my last Neon Trees concert at Velor. The lobby was packed. Clustered flower balloons above, and live music beneath.

Downstairs we picked out our favorite Marilyn Monroe run, admired the Man on the Moon, and smiled at the film of Nico projected on the wall. I don't do much talking...Theeese days...cough, cough.

A later visit in the mystic room of Mylar.

As I was both taking notes on trendy and vaguely wondering what those banging noises beyond were, a suited older gentleman swiftly cut through the crowd. I plucked Mr. Owl's sleeve, "Let's go watch some kids get chewed out."
We made our way to a room filled with a dozen huge Mylar balloons gently sailing up and down,  just in time to witness him march in with authority and demand, "Where are your Parents!!" to the children punching and jumping on the balloons unlucky enough to be on their way down. The parents were 3 feet away, of course, chatting. "These are not just balloons-they are works of art--paid for by an endowment!" he cried indignantly.
He was exactly right, and phrased it beautifully. How else would anyone describe an unadorned four foot Mylar balloon?
You can bet I'm going to quote him at the next--and probably every birthday party I ever attend.

"Buy my Fresh Apples"

This was the first year that a Renaissance Faire came within 2 hours of us. Considering costumes for a $2 discount, I went to help my sister find something.
"Here this doesn't match," I said, and she gave me a bewildered look.
"Match?..." she queried. Then I remembered who I was talking to.
 She blinked and realized what'd she'd naturally said then repeated "Match?!..." with a laugh that followed her down the hall.

So sans costumes, we went, finding my way to the parking lot by my sister's directions on the phone. "Turn left through the trees, over some boards--jump the curb, down a dirt road to the parking lot." And the adventure began. (Right after some rosemary bread, grapes, and string cheese.)

The place was teaming with characters and costumes.
We saw the "Jester in Polyester" ( as my sister dubbed him) which brought out giggles when I finally met him because the title was SO hideously shiny green-and-purple perfect.
 We climbed aboard a model pirate ship setting off a prerecorded sea chantey --which Kingfisher immediately memorized. My sister tried on a $150 leather bustiere which, no joke--is guaranteed for life or 150 years. Which really is quite a bargain.
A random woman dressed simply in comparison to the heavily armored, big skirted, tightly laced typicals kept wandering in and out of little crowds softly singing "Fresh Apples! Buy my fresh apples." Which--I can't help it, maybe it was all the exposed corsets walking around-- just didn't sound all that innocent.

In the Artisans Circle we saw a woman cutting out a stained glass nativity, a simple lathe work--and get repaired, a fire eater (wearing as much or little as you'd expect), and a Robin Hood-like character explained the power and workings of a long bow while his beautiful retired greyhound lounged in the
shade nearby.

 

We heard Celtic music and saw a potter's kick-wheel at work
(just after he slammed the ball of clay on, splattering mud in our eye). I missed the Lady with the Kestrel--or was it the Kestrel with the lady? But heard they were beautiful. Saw a Punch and Judy show where the puppet heads kept getting ridiculously mixed up. Saw some elegant calligraphy Bowery Bird was interested in, and other bustieres I had to tell Mockingbird she could try on over my dead body (not really).

It was a simple, but novel faire swarming with school uniforms. At the exit as I steadied myself against the waves of children and chaperons, Good Queen Bess teased a "young squire" showing off, a balloon popped,  then as the throng of people dispersed I heard softly in the distance, "Fresh Apples...Buy my Fresh apples"...a perfectly surreal ending to our day.

How Tall is Cary Grant?

 

Mr. Owl recently won himself a Guiess World Record certificate by participating in the worlds largest anonymous gift exchange through Reddit last Christmas. (He gave choclolates he got the rock music cookbook ) He also participated in teh album exchange (gave falmig lips-of cousre, got the Shins). He's pretty pleased with this.

 

I think it's pretty well known that Guiness World Records are named after the Brittish Brewery of the same name, so my jump to a drinking game shouldn't be too far. (And just like Shaun White, "I'm talking about Mountian Dews, baby.") We named it "How Tall is Cary Grant?".

 

This is a postmarked letter from my mom 10 years ago, inscribed "You handsome devil, you"--one of those witty Victorian birthday cards she digs up. And even with those screwy jail bars from the United States Postal Service--he still is. One of my favorite lines by him, "Everybody wants to be Cary Grant, even I want to be Cary Grant!" (sigh)

Mom & i were home while my sister and Father Owl went to a concert (he's such a good big brother ot her--I love him). We were watching an old movie and I started reading actor bios on line. oNe thing led to another and "How Tall is Cary Grant" became. You pick a celebrity, and guess their height before googling it. Kept us going for over an hour i think. You'd never guess--Cary Grant 6'1, Reese WItherspoon 5'1,Kate Moss 5'6 (c'mon--and she calls herself a model!) Gregory Peck 6'2" (and because of a back injury while dancing with Martha Graham's troop--couldn't enlist in WWII), Liam Neeson 6'4, Sophia Loren 5'9, Vivain Leigh 5'6, Uma Thermon 5'11 (and her mother married Timothy Leary). Of all the supermodels we googled, none were taller than me--a source of temporary supeficial pride. average female heigh in us-5'6, avg male 5'11. And Napoleon-the sourceo f th e"short man complex"--5'6; 3" taller than average male of his time (his guard's tall hats made him appear short--and his eternal quest to conquer didn't help the rumor to compensate.)

Karma Counter Starts

I signed up for freecyle in an effort to rid myself of this behemoth of a file cabinet when it wouldn't sell. The New Zealand couple that took it were so appreciative they--to my surprise--actually hugged me before they left. Strangers.
It occurred to me, maybe that's why we've benefited from so many freely given things--furniture, food, tickets, etc. It just feels good to give.


So, for fun, I thought I'd keep track for a year of all that freely goes in and out of our home. Measurable karma.

The Rules are:
Holidays & thank yous don't count (expected-gifts no, no-reason gifts yes.)
Family is OK
Found items of value count
Needed items of incredibly low cost count

The Point is not to just get stuff. The point is to better recognize how blessed I am when I am able share with others. I do believe that generosity thrown out into the the universe will come back to me--sometimes better than I could even plan.

There might be ALIENS in this...!

We are about out to watch a history film for Bowery Bird when Kingfisher starts whining
 "Awww-No! That's BORING!"
His two sisters offer that it's really not. I have to leave the room for something (I don't think it was imaginary this time).

When I get back the movie is starting and Kingfisher leans in to me with an excited,
"There might be ALIENS in it!"
I check the title : "Colonial Life for Children; French & Colonial Quebec". Pretty sure there's not, but I don't say anything.

Halfway through Kingfisher turns to Bowery Bird "There are no ALIENS in this!"
I turn to look at her. She reluctantly meets my eyes and gives me a nervous twitter, then turns back to the Iroquios involvement.
End of movie he volunteers, "There were no aliens. But it was still good." as the credits roll.

Who knows? Maybe aliens would have helped things.