|What the hell does this have to do with anything? Just you WAIT, menehune-breath.|
At six, Da-da's oldest boy, Nagurski, has developed a fear of monsters... which is a bit later than normal, but these things happen. To combat this, Da-da did three things:
- He started numbering everything in sight
- He told his boys that the family had INTENTIONALLY moved to the town they live in because monsters HATE that town, and also because everyone seems to be CAPITALIZING EVERYTHING for emPHASIS, and...
- Da-da installed tikis.
- They're cheap.
- They're fun!
- THEY'RE POWERFUL. Ooooh, tiki power...
- They're traditional monster warders and protectors (well, if you're on their good side, Greg Brady), and...
- They're cheap.
If you're afraid of your house looking kitchy and destroyed, then you need meds or a stiff drink, 'cause you had children and children destroy houses and there ain't enough plastic in Dick Cheney's chest to cover your precious white furniture. (Anyone who buys white furniture deserves what they get.) If you're really serious about your tiki-ness, serve your kids smoothies in tiki tumblers. Da-da has several.
Note: monsters also hate Martin Denny music. Interestingly enough, anyone who listens to '50s techno-polynesian music and hates it is probably a monster and should be caged, or at least forced to hang out at The Pineapple Parlor for an indefinite period with some meddling kids. Jinkies.
And just to prove that Da-da really does VIVE this muchacho blog, here's his pueblo's parlor (below). Verdad? No, VERDA-DA. Ack, Da-da's presence has just been alerted to the Party Police for mixing cultural thingies, again. The tiki streamers reeeeeaallly do keep away monsters, but strangely attact drunken Rotarians, go figure. Oh well, another Mai Tai, Chester? Tad?
|Yup. Cheap tiki paraphernalia and kid art festooned everywhere. Better get used to it.|