Famous Last Words, Or Something Like That...

Madame's Nightshirt
Mrs. Peperium

"Putting aside the k*nky sexual overtones, it's still a cute idea."

Last September, the children and I went to the pet store to load up on cat supplies. When I went to the register to pay, the children made themselves scarce. Since they had not come out from wherever they were by the time the financial transaction was complete, a search and rescue mission was required. Imagine my reaction upon locating them in one of the dog aisles wearing dog collars and leashes...

"Mommy, we want to be Pongo and Perdita for Halloween." exclaimed Roger Kimball's future daughter-in-law said upon seeing me. (Pongo and Perdita are the mom and dad dalmatians from 101 Dalmatians)

"Yeah, and Daddy can be our pet, Roger!" Little Bertie chimed in.

"Mommy, you stay home and pass out the candy. We want Daddy to walk us around the block on leashes." said RKFDIL

I just nodded and thought of the neighbors' reactions as Mr. P, (just like Roger in 101 Dalmtians and not Roger Kimball - I think, but you never do know about people do you?), puffing on his pipe and pulling up to each doorstep with the children on leashes. That night I informed Mr. P of his offspring's plan for him on Halloween and he said:

"Putting aside the k*nky sexual overtones, it's still a cute idea."

So, listening to my caro spouso, or whatever he is, I put aside the k*nky sexual overtones like he advised and have spent the better part of week and a half trying to be Martha Stewart without the electronic tether. I made two dalmatian costumes. It took going to 5 different fabrics stores before we were able to locate enough spotted fabric. Then I needed to instruct our kitten, Prudence, as this is her first Halloween, on the fine art on not ingesting threads and needles. Our elderly cat Hobbes failed that class several Halloweens ago and required $600 of emergency surgery to remove a sewing needle. Happily, we think, Prudence passed the ingesting of needles coursework but she failed the eating of sewing patterns. So did our 2 year-old cat, Veronica Wedge. Both are in the doghouse because they ruined one pattern entirely and I will not be able to use it again, but I digress. However, both dalmatian costumes were completed with a little more than 3 hours to spare for their first time out of the gate, a hayride last night.

Last night was the final Harvest Moon of the year. The weather was clear as a bell and quite crisp. The hay was sweet smelling and clean. We had a ball. Next stop for the dalmatian tour is a costume party this Saturday for a party I was sure we had gotten bounced off the guest list of. The family had come to Little Bertie's pig roast and watermelon toss last August. One of the things I (purposely) neglected to tell all of you about Little Bertie's blowout was that he and his closest friends, (including the one who shoved an ice pack down his mother's shirt in the lunchroom a few weeks back) had inadvertently set fire to the party. While the boys started the fire, it was really all RKFDIL's fault. She was trying to be the perfect hostess and had gone around lighting all the little buckets of citronella candles on each table. Who gave her matches we still have not been able to determine. (I think it was my husband) Mr. P and I were too busy talking and whatnoting to notice she had done this. So were all the other parents. What RKFDIL did not understand is that an open flame to six year-old boys is an object of great fascination (think of Louise Brooks for the 40 and over crowd of boys and you know of what I speak) The boys lost all reason. And before anyone knew it, they had gone off and collected all sort of flammable items to toss in the buckets. Can you say Whoosh!?

After the dousing of the fire, the father who is hosting the costume party this Saturday took Mr. P out to the woodshed for being so negligent. Mr. P took it like a gentleman and like the gentleman he is, was furious afterwards. I was happy because I thought for sure this meant we we struck from the Halloween party list but no such luck. So once again we are off to the limestone castle circa 2004 where the 10 ft tall suits of armor will greet us upon our entrance and the children will run up the wrought iron circular staircase and across the wrought iron catwalks to bounce on the inflatable castle in the hallway. Yes, the house can fit and inflatable castle in the hallway, but again I digress. After the castle party we have other parties but none compare to the party in the castle. (Think Rocky Horror, I think.) And then we have RKFDIL's 8th birthday and then finally Halloween.

I hate Halloween. Really, I do. And more than hating Halloween, I hate costume parties.

I hate costume parties because I once went to one as a 19 year-old art student. My grandmother had very kindly let me ino the recesses of her closest to come up with a costume. I was wearing one of her black dresses from the '20's (and it was a seriously great dress), a long rope of her black jet beads that she had worn with the dress, an off-white satin turban with a red satin rose, low black patent leather heels, and holding a off-white satin cigarette holder with an unlit Dunhill. I met a very funny guy from Northeastern who was dressed as Nurse Rachet. He and I had a very amusing conversation and he asked me out. I said yes. He showed up at my apartment door the next week and I learned the one of the most valuable lessons a girl could learn : Never say yes when a guy wearing makeup and falsies asks you out, no matter how funny he is. This guy had a mug on him right out of Dick Tracy. I wanted to close the door but I couldn't. He seemed very nice but the dark undertones that emerged when he smiled scared me. He was also very rich and, unfortunately, desperate to be in love. By the end of our date he was full of plans to drive me home for Thanksgiving (he also lived in Connecticut) and stopping off at his country club en route so we could have dinner with his parents. To make a short story, shorter, I got out of dinner with his parents at the club and I never went to another costume party again. Except for the one my roommates dragged me to when I was 23. I was so adamant about going I had no costume prepared when I finally relented in the 11th hour. I had to look in my closest for one. Since I never wanted another guy in makeup to ask me out, I came up with a costume that I was sure no guy would want to talk to, much less ask out. Imagine my roommate's reactions when I came downstairs (our apartment had an upstairs and downstairs, naturally) wearing a seriously over-sized Irish fisherman's sweater my dad had bought off a street vendor in Rome for 6 bucks, a pink turtleneck, blue jeans, rag wool socks, Bean boots and duck decoy tied with ribbon to the top of my head. They asked me what I was. An Audubon guide was my response.

Do you know what? I got asked out on two dates that night. One by a mime. I loathe mimes. Who doesn't? I thought standing next to him while sipping my beer with a duck on my head was safe. No such luck. But you do have to admit being asked out by a mime was an accomplishment. He really had to contort himself to tell me what kind of restaurant he wanted to take me to, too. The poor slug. The other invitation was from a cave man. That one was much more tempting but his upper body strength was not beefy enough. I always like the guys that could bench press me, meaning they used me instead of a barbell. Hey, I did not spend 4 years drawing men in the n*de to not determine what I liked in a guy...

But that was then and this is now. (And yes Mr. P could bench press me.) I'm exhausted, my house is a disaster, and it's raining. Plus I've learned a new trick. Amusements are in order.

So without further ado here are my movie suggestions for those of you that do not have to go to a costume party in a limestone castle circa 2004 with 10 ft tall suits of armor. This one is one of my all time favorite modern movies. Since most of you are the bookish type, it shall delight you :

84 Charing Cross Road

For those who like a bit more age on their movies, may I suggest Ronald Coleman and Greer Garson:

Random Harvest

For the ladies, I highly recommend :

Literary Stud No. 1

or

Literary Stud No.2

We have a tie for Literary Stud No. 3:

Mr. Tilney

Mr. Darcy

I do think those videos would make Miss Austen giggle. Such creative young ladies who rightly understand men on the internet these days...

And for the gentlemen among us, I highly recommend Red Dwarf :

Ladies, as far as Red Dwarf goes for you, kindly recall Mr. P's words when viewing it, "putting aside the k*nky sexual overtones, it's still a cute idea.".

* Why don't my youtube embeds work like everyone elses? It's just so unfair....

Comments

[Old Dominion Tory]

I don't know about Miss Austen, but the videos certainly amuse me. And while this http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hCqm20VPIHY is a Thackeray novel, it will amuse as well, I trust.
Enjoy the party at the Addams Family mansion and the others at the more humble venues, Mrs. Peperium.
Off to help Mrs. Tory make fish and chips!
Cheers!

[Robbo the Llama Butcher]

I dislike Halloween too, Mrs. P.

I will tell you two anecdotes of the trouble (or near trouble) that dressing for it caused me back in the day:

One year, whilst an undergrad at the People's Glorious Soviet of Middletown CT, I too got the idea to attend a Halloween party in drag. (What can I say? The fall rowing season had just ended and I was more or less constantly blotto.) Anyhoo, as my, well "girlfriend" would imply some kind of emotional bond that was quite lacking on one side, let's just say "companion" and I were sitting at the Alpha Delt house, a very large, erm, fellah came up, looked us both up and down and said, "I don't know which one of you I'd like to kiss more."

Check, please.

Some years later, while studying law at General Lee's University deep in the Old Dominion, I got another brilliant idea to attend the school party dressed as a Rastafarian. I must say that my costume on that occasion (totally improvised by me) was a complete success. Nobody in our very small and intimate class had the faintest idea who I was. Nonetheless, the fete was held at Zohlman's Pavillion, a large corregated shack about ten miles out in the country from dear old Metro-Lex along a back road. (I assume that ODT, at least, is familiar with the spot.) It wasn't until I was driving my slightly unsteady self back to town that it occured to me that if some big, pot-bellied redneck sheriff's deputy were to pull me over, he would probably have hammered the stuffing out of me before I could even get my mouth open to explain.

To be fair, the next year, after the Missus and I had been walking out for some time, we attended the law school party dressed as Snow Miser and Heat Miser from "The Year Without A Santa Claus". Much hi-larity ensued and I believe we actually won the prize for Best Couple. Nonetheless, I swore upon graduation never to don Halloween costume again.

(Incidentally, this year the five year old Llama-ette is going as a witch, complete with green face paint. Margaret Hamilton's got nuthin' on her.)

[Christine]

I'll take Literary Stud No. 1, thank you. Jeremy Northam was wonderful in Emma, as he was in The Ideal Husband and the remake of The Winslow Boy (although I'm not sure anyone can beat Robert Donat in the original).

Has anyone seen him in the current TV series The Tudors? He's playing Thomas More.

[boeciana]

Mr Darcy only at no 3? No no no! He is the archetypal audio-visual Austen hero!

[Mrs. Peperium]

Boceciana, welcome and forgive me for not having a link to you.

Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy. Yes I quite agree he is archetypical audio visual Austen hero. But I do so like the bridge of Mr. Knightley's nose and as for Captain Wentworth, why he has a uniform (and a splendid one at that). Plus his cheekbones do have a bit of the Native American about them. They make you wish he played a cowboy at some point in his career or at the very least Tarzan. Do you not think so?

I have more coming up on this next week (with hope).

[Christine]

Mrs. P,
I saw Jeremy Northam the other day. He was co-presiding at the All Souls' Day Mass, wearing splendid purple vestments and a pair of frames. All right, so it may not have been Mr. Northam himself, but one who bore a striking resemblance. Can you imagine anything more heavenly than Northam in a Roman collar?

[Mrs. Peperium]

"Can you imagine anything more heavenly than Northam in a Roman collar?"

I'm working on it.

Ok, now I'll come clean. My regular confessor bears uncanny resemblance to him (so uncanny in fact I'm very glad to behind a screen...):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RIEryklWT6M

*Sigh* So glad Rome has the priests wear sandals instead of riding boots...

[Christine]

Or A-2 flight jackets...

I wish I had the option of being behind a grille, but as I've mentioned before, they don't do things that way in France. I like my confessor very much--which is why I wish all the more to hide behind the screen when admitting my most humiliating faults...

[Christine]

Oh dear. Speaking of being attracted to priests, it seems a widow has fallen in love with Fr. Francis Mary Stone of EWTN, and he with her. He's on a leave of absence to discern his vocation. Pray he rises above the temptation and remains true to his vows.

[Mrs. Peperium]

Women just cannot control themselves, can they?

[Christine]

If she really loves him, she would give him back to God.

[Mrs. Peperium]

Yes.

[boeciana]

Salve Mrs Peperium! You really needn't link us if you don't want to...

Mr Northam has a charming nose, and frankly Mr Knightly is more immediately personable than Mr Darcy; but That Scene where Georgiana plays the fortepiano and Elizabeth and Darcy gaze at each other across the room... Emma has not its like. Sigh.

I don't really get the Ciaran Hinds thing; I'm sorry... I think I was too young for Persuasion when it was on television, and while actually I think you're right that he might make a good cowboy or Tarzan, I could never see that as an aesthetic improvement upon a nice suit!

Prayers for the EWTN priest.

[Mrs. Peperium]

The Ciaran Hinds thing, poor man, only works in 18th century naval dress. He was born after his time but for a brief moment he did live in the splendor of it.

Consider yourself linked.

[big spaniel]

When we were in Asia, we had costumes made to resemble our two cocker spaniels, the immortal Wendy and the equally immortal Janie a.k.a. Jane the Dog. They were simple, but completely the exact color (black and medium brown, respectively). When we came home, we went to a Dog Halloween Event in Bethesda. There was a contest for the owners who looked most like their dogs, and WE ONLY GOT THIRD PLACE EVEN THOUGH WE WERE DRESSED AS OUR DOGS. I wanted to go up to the judges and shake them and say "Hey, we ARE our dogs!" but I could never find them.

We like taking our dogs to Dog Halloween Events because that lets them snuffle about the woods looking for treats.

[Mrs. Peperium]

big spaniel, how are you? Wendy and Janie. Oh, what a lovely dogs they were. And so kind to you, the interloper...

Do you know we had a very similiar experience? We went to a look like your pet contest too. I sewed Hobbes the cat (back in his early days) a matching outfit to Mr. P's. Seriously. They both had on red and white striped shirts and kahkis. Oh my gosh. When Mr. P took Hobbes out of the cat carrier for judging the audience just lost it. I thought we were going to win.

They lost.

They got an honourable mention instead.

The guy that won really did look like his dog. both were shaggy, long in the tooth and mournful in expression. His wife was a classmate of Hillary Rodham Clinton or the infamous Wellesley '68. That really does explain all.

I congratulated him heartily because he had really earned the prize.

Send us a picture of you two dressed as your dogs, please. The kids will love it.