Last weekend I had a booth at a super cool South Knoxville celebration called Vestival. The week before I was busting my ass sewing sun dresses by the dozen when my neighbor, Lee showed up at the door. He seemed to be stopping by just to say hi, but as soon as he saw that I had sewing stuff in my hand he began some bizarre "pitch" regarding his own invention, The Wizard Hat.
"Oh yeah man I've done sold three or four uh these hats to my buddies, I've just gotta make em sall"
Lee showed me his prototype Wizard Hat which he had safety pinned together "sows I can take it partn copy the pattern and make a whole bunch uv um".
The pattern consisted of a piece of brightly colored, printed fabric with repeating rainbows, fairies, and butterflies folded in half, then cut at an 60 degree angle and pinned together. The result was a cross between a klan member's hood and a dunce hat. Oh yeah. And it was lined with a cut off sweat pant leg because "it's sumthin you can wear all year long", explained Lee. I thought, "yeah, all year starting after the next ice age". "They's clean sweats!" He added. Whenever someone assures me of something's cleanliness I can't help but doubt.
I agreed to try to sew the seam in Lees sample hat, but explained that I was very busy with my own projects, and that I am unable to work when Fox is awake. That means that I have around three work hours each day. Lee said, "whenever you gettaroun to it. How about I cut out the patterns an yew sew em an you can sell em at that festival for $10 a piece and split the profit?"
Again, I told Lee that as irresistible of an offer that was, I had more projects of my own than I have time to finish as it is but I would try to sew up his sample.
The next morning around 9:15 Lee knocked on my door with a big, plastic WalMart bag full of fabric and sweat pant legs.
"Oh Shit", I thought. He was in a hurry and explained that the fabric inside the bag was for the hats I was going to make.
The fabric was cheap-o Walmart stuff, and there were three types. Camo, rainbow, and purple skull and crossbone. Hurriedly Lee described another Wizard Hat he had made with "puff balls and a whistle at the end". I was imagining a camo Wizard hat with those adornments and remarking about how bad it looked in my mind when I reminded Lee that I had plenty to do to get ready for the weekend. Offended, he said "You'd sell more uh these hats than THEM dresses!" I told him that he might be right, but making dresses was my thing, NOT making wizard hats that make a person look like an ass hole. He turned around and left leaving the bag with me.
The next night I had a couple of folks over to eat supper with me and as sure as Christ died, Lee nonchalantly arrived and asked me for a col'beer. I had already told my friends about the Wizard Hat Attack, so when Lee brought it up Emily suggested that he sew his own damn hats. Lee replied "Hell no I ain't gonna do that shit; SHE is" (pointing to me). Emily proceeded to tell him all of the many reasons why it didn't make sense for me to produce his hats, and gradually he began lightening up about it.
He drank about six beers that night that my friends had brought, and he didn't talk to me for a couple of days afterwards, but eventually he came around.
I still have that horrific bag of fabric and I can't decide how to return it to him without salting the wound. I am going to the beach next week and feel like I should return it before I go. Any ideas?
Showing posts with label hippy girls. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hippy girls. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
5/1/2008 Root Ball
When we arrived in Asheville Friday for Heather's shower we stayed at Jason's parent's house in Haw Creek. After a month of exclusive adult/baby contact I was itching to go somewhere and do something non-baby related for a few hours. After hanging out with the Robinsons for a while Jason, Cassie and I decided to go to the Root Bar, a one of a kind drinking establishment named for a game invented by the founders. The "back yard" of the bar is a fenced in, sand covered expanse with three Root Ball courses. The game is a cross between horse shoes and bacci ball, except that you toss a ring, and then toss a ball at the ring, or the stake. Everyone removes their shoes and meanders around, sloshing pints of beer ; It's great fun! The root bar is the fourth closest bar to my house in Asheville. We can't go to Rascals because we all got kicked out after Kelly and Heidi's wedding, we can't go to Ruby's because we are boycotting it, and we can't go to Norton's because thats where my Drunkle Charles lives. For the time being the Root Bar is our "neighborhood pub".
Jason had never been there so he was immediately skeptical about the place. We bought beers and made our way to the back yard, as far away from the other patrons as possible. Jason and Cassie chatted together, catching up on her work and the current events of Harlan County KY, and Jason spiraled into a pit of unhappiness brought on by trying to provide answers to the world's problems in twenty minutes or less. I was determined to enjoy myself and ignore Jason's misery for that evening, and I started chatting with this pleasant fellow who had ska-danced over to our outpost.
This guy was all smiles and wanted to share a story with us regarding his residence in Maui. It went something like this:
"I used to live in Maui for, like six years with a bunch of other beautiful people and it was Awwwwesome! We just lived on the beach and ate fruit and loved. One night we all did this Hopi Sweat Ritual where you eat a bunch of mushrooms and get inside a tee-pee with a hot fire burning and you sweat all of the negative energy out of your body. Totally Killer! We had been there for hours and we had all stripped down and were tripping soo hard! It felt like we were dying, but as soon as we got out it was like a new life, and we weren't tired anymore! It was the most AWESOME feeling ever, so there were, like, 10 of us, all shapes and sizes, all beautiful people, naked on the beach, running around and jumping in the ocean. It was the best feeling ever swimming in the ocean after being so hot!
We stayed on the beach and fell asleep, and when we woke up it was because a huge bus was parking at the edge of the beach and, like, 40 old, white people were pouring out of it and coming towards us. When they got up close to us we thought they were going to call the police or something but you know what they did? They stripped down and started running around having fun, too!"
The fellow then asked if we wanted to play Root Ball, which Cassie and I did but couldn't quite rouse Jason, even after hearing that amazingly enlightening story.
I told our new friend that we would play with him in 5 minutes, or after we extinguished our cigarettes and bought new beers etc.. He went back inside and I didn't see him again for about 45 minutes, when I saw him emerge from the pub with our friend, Don. Jason was still busy outlining the world's problems so I went over and greeted Don and finally introduced myself to the nudist, Jacob. Don was fired up to play and with his incentive we were able to rescue Jason from his pit of dispair. Don is one of those people who I wouldn't describe as a particularly "happy" person, but whenever he is around he instills others with happiness.
We started playing the game after a brief instructional from Don. The temperature had dropped so Jason had gone to the car to get some jackets for he and Cassie. Jason had to wear my teal down parka and it was so funny! The waist had elastic and it was really high up, and the sleeves were three quarter sleeves on him. AND it was bright teal. I only wish I had gotten a picture. It lightened the mood of the evening even more seeing Jason seriously playing the game in that coat.
It was boys versus girls and the score remained close for the first half of the game. Then Jason and Don started whopping up on us, and then this throw happened:
That is Don consulting with Jacob about a rare toss. Cassie ingeniously named it the NeuvoRing. Needless to say the boys won the game.
Jason had never been there so he was immediately skeptical about the place. We bought beers and made our way to the back yard, as far away from the other patrons as possible. Jason and Cassie chatted together, catching up on her work and the current events of Harlan County KY, and Jason spiraled into a pit of unhappiness brought on by trying to provide answers to the world's problems in twenty minutes or less. I was determined to enjoy myself and ignore Jason's misery for that evening, and I started chatting with this pleasant fellow who had ska-danced over to our outpost.
This guy was all smiles and wanted to share a story with us regarding his residence in Maui. It went something like this:
"I used to live in Maui for, like six years with a bunch of other beautiful people and it was Awwwwesome! We just lived on the beach and ate fruit and loved. One night we all did this Hopi Sweat Ritual where you eat a bunch of mushrooms and get inside a tee-pee with a hot fire burning and you sweat all of the negative energy out of your body. Totally Killer! We had been there for hours and we had all stripped down and were tripping soo hard! It felt like we were dying, but as soon as we got out it was like a new life, and we weren't tired anymore! It was the most AWESOME feeling ever, so there were, like, 10 of us, all shapes and sizes, all beautiful people, naked on the beach, running around and jumping in the ocean. It was the best feeling ever swimming in the ocean after being so hot!
We stayed on the beach and fell asleep, and when we woke up it was because a huge bus was parking at the edge of the beach and, like, 40 old, white people were pouring out of it and coming towards us. When they got up close to us we thought they were going to call the police or something but you know what they did? They stripped down and started running around having fun, too!"
The fellow then asked if we wanted to play Root Ball, which Cassie and I did but couldn't quite rouse Jason, even after hearing that amazingly enlightening story.
I told our new friend that we would play with him in 5 minutes, or after we extinguished our cigarettes and bought new beers etc.. He went back inside and I didn't see him again for about 45 minutes, when I saw him emerge from the pub with our friend, Don. Jason was still busy outlining the world's problems so I went over and greeted Don and finally introduced myself to the nudist, Jacob. Don was fired up to play and with his incentive we were able to rescue Jason from his pit of dispair. Don is one of those people who I wouldn't describe as a particularly "happy" person, but whenever he is around he instills others with happiness.
We started playing the game after a brief instructional from Don. The temperature had dropped so Jason had gone to the car to get some jackets for he and Cassie. Jason had to wear my teal down parka and it was so funny! The waist had elastic and it was really high up, and the sleeves were three quarter sleeves on him. AND it was bright teal. I only wish I had gotten a picture. It lightened the mood of the evening even more seeing Jason seriously playing the game in that coat.
It was boys versus girls and the score remained close for the first half of the game. Then Jason and Don started whopping up on us, and then this throw happened:
That is Don consulting with Jacob about a rare toss. Cassie ingeniously named it the NeuvoRing. Needless to say the boys won the game.
4/22/2008 Final-Lee
This is the moment you have been waiting for since you first read of my wacky neighbor Lee.
That's right;
a portrait of Lee with his creation: The Lee-Z-Rider
I am sure you are in a state of shock after finally having an image to match with the lore; PLUS you are forced to confront the reality that Lee is a real man that I did NOT invent. It takes very little creativity to make Lee oriented blogs interesting, in fact they practically write themselves.
Last weekend my brother and our friend Brad visited us here in Knoxville. Brad always reads my blog and comments on them and has expressed his excitement about meeting Lee. Saturday night Brad's mind got blown, Lee style.
Lee approached our house on his usual, spiraling path and joined us on our front porch. After presenting me with a promotional CD with a huge "FREE" sticker on the top, he helped himself to a beer from the cooler.
He and Brad acquainted themselves with each other and before I knew it Lee was addressing Brad as "Clyde" which I have deciphered is a term of endearment Lee uses. He described to Brad the conditions which led to his piloting career in the air force at age 15, how he rode on the outside of a jet airplane into the earth's atmosphere till he was covered in ice, and how he possessed the power to dance a special dance and become invisible.
Brad remained engaged in conversation with Lee and I watched his face during the particularly wild statements: -his Cherokee name is Dances With Wolves, he's worth 8 million, he's going to buy his butler a Corvette, etc.... He was on the verge of a laugh explosion, and I was beginning to suspect that I hadn't explained "Lee" enough to my brother, who doesn't read my weblog and might not have really understood the extremity of his stories. They were asking lots of questions about times, ages and situations and as Lee explained himself his responses became louder and louder. I tried giving them the "hush" eye before they were unleashed upon, but luckily the conversation shifted and Lee went back home to get his peace pipe. I used this intermission to brief Kelly about Lee's ramblings, and recommended that he not ask too many questions, and try thinking about something tragic like hurricane Katrina to avoid bursting out into laughter.
He came back with a rock with a hole bored out of it and the tube from a ballpoint pen shoved into it. Lee told us that it was a ceremonial medicine pipe and he wanted us to smoke it and receive a blessing from him that we never have nightmares. We asked what he intended to put into the pipe, and he said it was herbs mixed with tobacco; "there ain't no PCP or powder or nothin in there if that's what your thinkin". Frankly, I didn't see any way to NOT smoke the pipe. I was praying that everyone else would smoke it too and we would all avoid actually inhaling the smoke.
We smoked with Lee and then got out the instruments and started playing. Between each break in music Lee urged us to listen to the CD he had brought over which was playing in the house because he sang in tracks 4, 12 and 14. "Listen!" He commanded, "That's me singing that low note!" It was so weird! We didn't want to piss him off bit it was barely audible on the front porch, and no one really wanted to go in the house to listen to some random CD.
A truck pulled up and it was our friend, Randal being dropped off by his activist friends after going to a meeting. For a minute I was afraid the hippie girls would exit the truck and want to talk and become alarmed when confronted with Lee's jive. They ended up just yelling something from the truck and going on their way, and Randy went to bed.
That's when Lee departed for the evening.
I took these pictures yesterday after Fox saw Lee out the window and yelled "LEEEEEE-EEEEEEEE!, LEEEEE-EEEEEEEE!" over and over about 40 times. We walked over to Lee's yard where he was chatting with our other neighbor, Karen. Native American flute music blared from his open door. Fox really likes Lee. The Lee-Z-Rider was constructed with a chainsaw motor and a mini keg as a gas tank. He insists it is safe enough for the 10 year old who he is going to give it to, explaining; "my friend's son is autistic and other kids make fun of 'em callin him Harry Potter n stuff; but after he gets this thing those kids wont say NOTHIN".
That I agree with.
That's right;
a portrait of Lee with his creation: The Lee-Z-Rider
I am sure you are in a state of shock after finally having an image to match with the lore; PLUS you are forced to confront the reality that Lee is a real man that I did NOT invent. It takes very little creativity to make Lee oriented blogs interesting, in fact they practically write themselves.
Last weekend my brother and our friend Brad visited us here in Knoxville. Brad always reads my blog and comments on them and has expressed his excitement about meeting Lee. Saturday night Brad's mind got blown, Lee style.
Lee approached our house on his usual, spiraling path and joined us on our front porch. After presenting me with a promotional CD with a huge "FREE" sticker on the top, he helped himself to a beer from the cooler.
He and Brad acquainted themselves with each other and before I knew it Lee was addressing Brad as "Clyde" which I have deciphered is a term of endearment Lee uses. He described to Brad the conditions which led to his piloting career in the air force at age 15, how he rode on the outside of a jet airplane into the earth's atmosphere till he was covered in ice, and how he possessed the power to dance a special dance and become invisible.
Brad remained engaged in conversation with Lee and I watched his face during the particularly wild statements: -his Cherokee name is Dances With Wolves, he's worth 8 million, he's going to buy his butler a Corvette, etc.... He was on the verge of a laugh explosion, and I was beginning to suspect that I hadn't explained "Lee" enough to my brother, who doesn't read my weblog and might not have really understood the extremity of his stories. They were asking lots of questions about times, ages and situations and as Lee explained himself his responses became louder and louder. I tried giving them the "hush" eye before they were unleashed upon, but luckily the conversation shifted and Lee went back home to get his peace pipe. I used this intermission to brief Kelly about Lee's ramblings, and recommended that he not ask too many questions, and try thinking about something tragic like hurricane Katrina to avoid bursting out into laughter.
He came back with a rock with a hole bored out of it and the tube from a ballpoint pen shoved into it. Lee told us that it was a ceremonial medicine pipe and he wanted us to smoke it and receive a blessing from him that we never have nightmares. We asked what he intended to put into the pipe, and he said it was herbs mixed with tobacco; "there ain't no PCP or powder or nothin in there if that's what your thinkin". Frankly, I didn't see any way to NOT smoke the pipe. I was praying that everyone else would smoke it too and we would all avoid actually inhaling the smoke.
We smoked with Lee and then got out the instruments and started playing. Between each break in music Lee urged us to listen to the CD he had brought over which was playing in the house because he sang in tracks 4, 12 and 14. "Listen!" He commanded, "That's me singing that low note!" It was so weird! We didn't want to piss him off bit it was barely audible on the front porch, and no one really wanted to go in the house to listen to some random CD.
A truck pulled up and it was our friend, Randal being dropped off by his activist friends after going to a meeting. For a minute I was afraid the hippie girls would exit the truck and want to talk and become alarmed when confronted with Lee's jive. They ended up just yelling something from the truck and going on their way, and Randy went to bed.
That's when Lee departed for the evening.
I took these pictures yesterday after Fox saw Lee out the window and yelled "LEEEEEE-EEEEEEEE!, LEEEEE-EEEEEEEE!" over and over about 40 times. We walked over to Lee's yard where he was chatting with our other neighbor, Karen. Native American flute music blared from his open door. Fox really likes Lee. The Lee-Z-Rider was constructed with a chainsaw motor and a mini keg as a gas tank. He insists it is safe enough for the 10 year old who he is going to give it to, explaining; "my friend's son is autistic and other kids make fun of 'em callin him Harry Potter n stuff; but after he gets this thing those kids wont say NOTHIN".
That I agree with.
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