by John Moe
In short, what’s going on around here? I mean, seriously. If I knew, I really think I would be better able to address the highly specialized needs of my class. A teacher needs to be part of the community she teaches in. I want to be a part of this one, but I really need more information.
Finally, in classroom activities, Valentine’s Day is fast approaching. Please instruct your kids to purchase or make valentines for each one of their classmates. I’m sure the day will go well. I’m going to make another attempt to schedule parent-teacher conferences. Please consider attending.
Thanks.
Melinda Othmar
Only School Teacher
Hey B-52’s!
Just wanted to give you a quick update that things aren’t going all that well, I’m afraid. It really breaks my heart because I know how special the Love Shack is to you! We all want to find the right owner for it and I am certainly not giving up!
First off, two things I LOVE about the house that I am definitely pointing out: the cool jukebox and the enormous garage that’s big enough for the completely improbably huge Chrysler you own.
But given the tough market, especially for small rural properties, I wonder if we could talk about some steps to increasing the house’s salability.
SIGNAGE
In theory, it does help to have a sign by the side of the road saying the property is 15 miles away. A little paint might help that sign pop a little bit since it’s faded. Other signs that are a little closer might help as well; 15 miles seems a bit arbitrary. Maybe a “TURN HERE” sign?
A sign I don’t really care for is the one out front that says “Stay away fools, cause love rules!” I mean … why do we need this? If a fool wants to pay our asking price, we’d take it, right? Why put people off?
You know what? Let’s just get rid of all the signs. They don’t help. People have maps.
I guess this gets to another big issue with the house, which is the name. The problem is twofold. One, the use of the word “Love” makes people think of sex. I’m sorry, but it just does. And no one wants to imagine other people having sex in a house they’re buying. People worry about—I’ll put this delicately—messes left behind. Especially—I’m sorry!—when it comes to musicians. Secondly, we try not to use the word “Shack” in describing a property. We prefer “bungalow” or “cozy hideaway.” “Love Shack” makes people think of a dilapidated hut filled with people copulating and leaving behind fluids. Regardless of the reality, I’d rather people not think of it that way.
I know that “Love Shack” is an important name to you guys and has a lot of memories. But when you sell a house, you want to let people make their OWN memories. Maybe no names on it at all? Let me know.
PRESENTATION
I want to be clear: it is NONE of my business what has happened on the property previously, but I wonder if you might be able to try to get rid of the glitter. As you can see by the attached photos, the glitter is everywhere. The bedroom has a mattress with glitter all over it (maybe lose the mattress altogether). There’s glitter on the front porch and the hallway. I even got a call from the state transportation department that there’s glitter on the highway leading up to the property.
Hey, I have young daughters so I KNOW glitter gets EVERYWHERE and is hard to remove. Sometimes I use a lint roller to remove the glitter. Or masking tape works too. I don’t know what to do about the highway, but I don’t think that’s a legal issue we need to worry about just yet.
Also, is there something wrong with the heating and air conditioning? Every time I’m out there it’s as hot as an oven. Everyone ends up wearing next to nothing and worrying about how the house would hold up in a Georgia summer.
REPAIRS
I can’t help but notice that when I go there with a group of prospective buyers that the whole house shimmies when everybody’s moving around. This is something we’ve talked about before and you expressed to me that it was one of your favorite qualities of the “shack,” as if the structure itself was dancing along with the people who attended the parties you had there. But I’m going to be honest, for most people a shimmying building is not a sign of celebration but a sign of potential implosion and collapse. And B-52’s, that is not a good selling point.
And the tin roof is rusted. And that’s unfortunate.
Okay, now this gets to my final point that I think can really make a difference in moving this sale along.
SHOWINGS
On many occasions when I have brought buyers over to the property, there was some sort of party going on. I had to bang, bang, bang on the door just to get in! And once inside there was a LOT of hugging, kissing, dancing, and what I can only describe as “lovin’.”
I’ll be honest, this property is what’s known as a “tough sell” in our business. A funky little “shack,” set way back in the middle of a field, might attract a buyer who wants a quiet home. I don’t want to tell you how to live your lives, and you know how much I love you all (must get some hair tips from you gals!), but maybe if you could tone it down a bit, we could close a sale.
Thanks,
Rochelle Laupstir
P.S. Does Fred ever sing or does he only do that shouty thing all the time? I’ve just been wondering about that.
REJECTED
PROPOSALS
SUPER BOWLS XXI TO XXVII
SUPER BOWL XXI—JANUARY 25, 1987
• Proposal received for a panel discussion to explain the Iran-Contra Affair. It would feature Attorney General Edwin Meese, General Oliver North, North’s secretary Fawn Hall, Deputy National Security Advisor John Poindexter, Defense Secretary Caspar Weinberger, President Ronald Reagan, and, for comic relief, Rodney Dangerfield. While not exactly a big showbiz production number, the proposal was tentatively approved. However, the proposal itself soon vanished and the parties involved denied any involvement. Two members of the Committee were then mysteriously killed.
• The Committee just hired Mickey Rooney instead and tried to forget anything else ever happened.
SUPER BOWL XXII—JANUARY 31, 1988
• A “Wrapped Jack Murphy Stadium” proposal was received from artists Christo and Jeanne-Claude. In keeping with the acclaimed artists’ career of large-scale art installations, the proposal called for the football stadium to be wrapped in thick fabrics in the colors of the Washington Redskins and the Denver Broncos. The purpose of the project was to promote peace between the teams and encourage an end to the football game and perhaps football itself. This seemed counterproductive to the Super Bowl, which, combined with fears of accidental fan mummification, led to a rejection for the proposal.
• Hired Chubby Checker, some more marching bands, and 88 pianos.
SUPER BOWL XXIII—JANUARY 22, 1989
• “A Salute to Rain Man” proposal was submitted, calling for musical re-creations of several key scenes of the recent hit movie. Proposal status moved from soft no to hard no after the Committee learned it was to feature unsuccessful presidential candidate Michael Dukakis in the Dustin Hoffman role and his running mate, Lloyd Bentsen, in the Tom Cruise role. Apparently they worked up the whole routine on the campaign trail. Committee felt like Dukakis could pull off his part but Bentsen was way too old and wooden to pull off a facsimile of Cruise.
• Committee instead presented Elvis Presto, a magician Elvis Presley impersonator. Really.
SUPER BOWL XXIV—JANUARY 28, 1990
• The fall of the Berlin Wall was a tremendously important and inspirational event that happened in the past year. The Committee was therefore very pleased to see a proposal to reenact the history of the wall and its collapse in the form of an entertainment spectacle using some of the biggest entertainment names of the day. However, the Committee felt that the proposal as it stood was somewhat confusing and potentially dangerous. It featured:
• Madonna as Nikita Khrushchev
• Michael J. Fox as John F. Kennedy
• Rick Moranis as Checkpoint Charlie
�
�� Phil Collins as Limited Travel Visas
• Paula Abdul as East German leader Erich Honecker
• Ronald Reagan as himself
The show was to culminate in Reagan’s famous command, “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall,” followed by members of both the San Francisco 49ers and the Denver Broncos running full speed at a cement wall in an attempt to knock it over.
• Some Dixieland jazz musicians were brought in instead.
SUPER BOWL XXV—JANUARY 27, 1991
• Proposal for a staging of a key scene from the hit movie Ghost was deemed unworkable. Setting up dozens of pottery wheels was not seen as problem, nor was hiring dozens of Demi Moore impersonators. It was tripped up by the producers’ insistence that actual ghosts be used to guide the Moore impersonators’ hands. Not Patrick Swayze impersonators pretending to be ghosts, but genuine ghosts. The Committee was split on whether or not ghosts are real, but was in almost unanimous agreement that if they were real that they would unreliable and not take direction well.
• The New Kids on the Block were ultimately hired.
SUPER BOWL XXVI—JANUARY 26, 1992
• The same group whose Berlin Wall proposal was rejected two years ago came back with a similar idea related to the collapse of the Soviet Union. In this one, a massive Soviet Union made of red fabric was to be stretched across the field. One by one, celebrities would emerge as breakaway republics and run out from the USSR tent:
• Kevin Costner as Armenia
• Kurt Cobain as Moldova
• Billy Crystal as Turkmenistan
• Sinéad O’Connor as Latvia
Proposal was rejected as Michael Jackson, set to play Russia, was unable to lift nuclear missile props.
• Gloria Estefan, already on board to play Ukraine, was brought in instead to perform as herself.
SUPER BOWL XXVII—JANUARY 31, 1993
• The Committee received a proposal entitled “Let’s Put Michael Jackson in Situations That Will Make Us Vaguely Uneasy”: “Billie Jean” while dancing with an unnerved Macaulay Culkin, “Beat It” performed in an oxygen chamber littered with children’s toys, and “Bad” performed under oath in an ersatz courtroom.
• Due to some legal difficulties, Mr. Jackson ultimately performed the music in a more conventional staging.
To: “The Grinch”
From: Max, your former partner and dog
Dear Steven,
It’s been several months now since you left and I remained here on Mt. Crumpet in the home we built together. You remember it, right? Peaceful, remote, away from society.
I think it’s important that I share my feelings. I hate you, Steven. Hate, hate, hate you.
For years, we stood for something: We hated the Whos. Like we always said, if it weren’t for Christmas and the Whos’ infernal screeching of “carols,” we would have quiet all year long. And isn’t that why we moved to Mt. Crumpet in the first place, Steven? Isn’t that why we left the city? We wanted to get away from the noise. We hated the noise noise noise noise.
Since coming here, every December, our meditation, gardening, and literary work has been shattered by “Wahoo-boraze” or whatever that stupid song was. Have you learned it yet now that you are living among them? Well, have you?
The Whos ruined our lives. Annually. And then you joined them.
You joined them after we executed our perfect plan. You joined them after an elaborately devised scheme to steal Christmas from them. You joined them after we conspired to commit Multiple Felonies. You joined them after we committed acts that could get us sent to prison, but it was a risk we were willing to take because silencing their racket meant that much to us. We had principles. What became of yours?
And why did you leave? WHY? Because you heard them sing! Mind you: it was the same song they already HAD been singing. It’s just that now they were singing it after our plan hadn’t produced the results we expected. That’s all it took. Who was I living with all those years? Honestly, if you know, tell me, Steven. What else have you lied to me about? Were you and Jeffrey from the gym really just “weight-lifting buddies”?
I’ve been reading the Whoville Gazette (yes, I subscribed) and I saw the interview you gave. You talked about how your heart used to be too small and then it grew. News flash, Steven: There was nothing wrong with your heart. I have, in the big file cabinet, a report from your cardiologist that says while your heart was abnormally small, fifth percentile, it was still completely functional and that unless you intended to run a triathlon, you were fine.
I don’t know what kind of doctor you’re seeing in Whoville—I’m sure he’s a total medical genius—but if your heart really has grown three sizes, That’s not normal. If that’s a legit condition and not a metaphor (and who can tell with Whos?), you’re probably going to die soon. You should go into the city and let a real doctor check that out. I’m worried about you. I can’t help it.
Alone up here on Mt. Crumpet, my thoughts have turned to that night. In retrospect, there were many mistakes. You shouldn’t have worn a Santa suit. Fun, sure, but necessary? I think maybe that was a sign. This compulsion for costume play. Same thing with your insistence that I wear a costume, which has always been a thing with you—so I didn’t think much of it.
Also, you should not have talked to Cindy Lou Who. At all. I’m not sure what kind of inverted Stockholm syndrome took place while I waited on the roof, but I do know that it all could have been solved with a hard shove and a quick exit. You were soft, probably all along, and she played on that shit.
Additionally, we should have dumped the Christmas crap and then left town right away. To the shore, Cozumel, my parents’ place even.
Look, relationships are tricky. We want it to be happily ever after, but that’s a fantasy. I can accept that we might drift apart. What really bothers me here is that you left to be with the Whos. They’re stupid, Steven. People who get robbed and then sing with joy are stupid people. And now, you’ve gone to live with them in a, what, hut? I can’t blame them anymore for being who they are. Perhaps I can’t even blame you for being who you evidently were all along. Perhaps I can only blame myself: for misjudging you for all those years. I thought you shared my yearning for solitude and my deep and justified hatred for everyone else. I thought that was why you quit the financial services firm, why I quit my job at the gallery, why we gave up the loft in the East Village, why we came here.
But I did not know you. You are a Who.
Enjoy the roast beast. Whatever. Call me if you want.
Max
Fresh Air
Episode 403: The Cast of the Popeye Cartoons Remembers
POPEYE, LEADING MAN I suppose when you try to make sense of this life—if you can call it a life—that we’ve had, you have to start with the years I spent in the Navy.
OLIVE OYL, LEADING LADY What he told me is that he was always interested in science and that’s why he signed up for that program when he was in the Navy. I think he just wanted the extra money they were offering.
POPEYE The idea was to build a Super Sailor. The ultimate Navy man. So there were these supplements and serums. I had to take all these shots and get hooked up to these machines. It was supposed to be a month-long thing, but they kept saying they needed “additional data” so it went on for more than two years. All day, every day. I slept maybe 90 minutes in any 24-hour period. The rest was all exercise and ingesting chemicals.
BLUTO, NEMESIS Yeah, I knew Popeye back then. I wasn’t in the same program as he was, but they were definitely doing something with me as well. My program just involved a lot of weight lifting. A lot. Like twelve hours a day. My chest became enormous. I could barely move my arms. It was pretty grotesque. But every day, I was thankful that I wasn’t in Popeye’s group. I saw what was happening to him.
POPEYE My face was the first to go. It twisted into this half-seized position where it’s been ever since. I just woke up that way one day. The doctors involved were horrified but they tr
ied to play cool. And it was incredibly painful to have my face locked down like that. That’s when one of the docs—I’ll be thankful to him forever—gave me a pipe with which to smoke this herb called marijuana. I’ve depended on it ever since. It’s the only way to make it through the day. After a few months, I realized that I would never have a normal human face again. I tooted my pipe a lot that night.
OLIVE OYL His arms didn’t look like that when he went into the Navy.
POPEYE A lot of people ask if my forearms are bulging from muscles. Truth is I don’t know why they’re so enormous and so out of proportion to my upper arms. It could be muscle. But it almost feels like layers of roof tile with sponge cake in between them. Does that make sense? The truth is in a government warehouse somewhere, but those files will be sealed until long after I’m dead. I just try to make the best of it like I’ve always done.
