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20 October 2007
We're all really cool. I re-propose the idea that we buy an island somewhere and start a bunny colony. Who's in? What will you be contributing to the community? Islands for sale here.
And upon this island would be the MetaChat Mansion, resplendent. ... and updated, naturally. Oh, and if we don't have a Trader Vic's on the island, someone getsa punch inna haid.
I am not really cool, and my only skill is weaving sad tales from gossamer dreams. Count me in! I promise to eat all our supplies, pee in the potable water, and be the first one strung up, flayed as an example to others, dismembered, and eaten.
I will bring a good axe and a cocktail shaker, and will make soothing beverages, suitable for BitterOldPunk's sad tales, or for the conga line that we all know is inevitable. Should we have to eat each other, I will save myself by impressing you all with my incredible mad cooking skillz. Failing that, there's always the axe.
Okay, so we won't eat each other. I'd share kitchen duty anyway. I will also regale you with tales of gang warfare in the back woods between the moose and the polar bears.
I just want to be the grande dame, and have you all cook for me, and wait on me, and tell me stories, and mix me cocktails. How does that work for you guys?
Will we actually be building MeCha Mansion on said island? And we'll have electricity and running water and wifi and everything? If so, I'll bring my laptop and write my book, and my oils and brushes and palette knives so I can make crazy art for people to hang in their rooms, or in our own MeCha gallery.
I'll also bring all my books and act as the resident librarian, not in a real librarian way like Jessamyn but in a book-critic-as-keeper-of-the-keys way. So each time you come into the library, I'll say things like, "Mother Night? That's a good one, but please tell me first about your history with Vonnegut." Or "Owen Meany? Really, I don't think so, not if you can have The Hotel New Hampshire instead. No, no I won't give it to you. You can't have it. In fact, I'm going to burn it right now. Yes. Okay, okay, stop crying. I'll give you the damn book if you promise to chase it with Fifth Business by Robertson Davies."
Umm, but if there's no electricity/running water/wireless internet/spa tub, I'm out. Sorry, guys.
chewy, you're absolutely right. and the thing is, they and other wonderful musicians will play for us for FREE because we are inviting them as guests to our beautiful island oasis. tom petty will be there, and dylan, and a whole host of others. they'll just come over to hang out.
of course we'll want to stay in shape, so we'll have a yoga studio on the property, and we'll also buy a couple of rowing shells. we'll divide up into mixed eights; losers have to make dinner that day.
Okay, here's what I bring to Metachat Fantasy Island:
- mad improv skillz (nightly performances - NEVER THE SAME THING TWICE! I MAKE IT UP - ALL OF IT! BRING THE KIDS - GREAT FOR FAMIL *WHACK* beeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
- a growing array of beautiful folksongs and old-timey murder ballads for use in the daycare facility.
- Official Dogwalker and petsitter for anyone leaving the island for extended periods.
- I'd also like to leave the island for whenever Suzanne Vega performs. I get enough sleep as it is.
I volunteer to help administer the Education Ministry, which will be outfitted with an amazingly colorful array of ecologically sound whiteboard markers, a giant costume chest, and a 10,000 pipe organ for music classes. We can use the Ministry's performing arts hall for Bruce's concerts, though I think when we fly in Cesaria Evora, we'll do a beachside barbecue kind of thing, at sunset.
As for my plebeian beach-side bungalow (as I won't be earning as much as the Learjet pilots), I ask only to be outfitted with a giant, never-empty bowl of cashews. And Corona. And maybe a giant, aromatic star jasmine plant that blossoms at night and puts me gently to sleep each night.
We'll eat you, I promise. I'm thinking slowly simmered with tomatoes and aromatics, osso bucco-style. Unless you'd prefer to be a chile-type thing? We'll need a really big crock pot.
Homemade paneer. Warm chewy brownies. Pumpkin bread. Artery-killing mac'n'cheese. Fresh-baked bread. Apple pie. Things made from flour and butter and vegetables and REAL FOOD.
I will make the food for the island, and someone else will have to be the physical trainer. I could recruit a friend to be the yoga instructor.
chewie, if we're gonna have a LearJet capable strip, I'll volunteer to do the FOD walkdowns on the runway in the mornings if anybody'll come along and keep me company.
Maybe I could man the tower and work the radios, too..."This is MeCha Mansion Tower; winds are zero eight at two two seven, altimeter two niner eight five. Contact Departure on Button Three."
I wonder how many of us do tai chi chuan? I'd like to pick up where I left off learning that; maybe a bunch of us could go out in back of the mansion and practice.
I hope there's a fridge close to the mansion's patio with some cold beer in it.
brina, if electricity/running water/wireless internet/spa tub is what it takes for you to be our library dominatrix, consider us fully wired and tubbed.
and fuzzbean, I'm pretty sure I just gained five pounds reading your last comment. Please come live with me?
With all these gifted and imaginative chefs around, I'll relinquish my spatula for a while. I'll be over in the hot tub, snacking from a plate of artisanal cheese, apples, and pears (from the MeCha Mansion orchard, but of course) balanced on the side. Who has the shiraz?
I will volunteer for a few hours a week of daycare, to give a break to bunnies who want to bring their kids. Who has the shiraz?
Dibs on the island moonshine concession. I lurves me some sanctified palm wine based brandy, although making the stuff is hell on the local supplies of palm, water, and fuel. If there's enough water, soil and fertilizer to grow corn, and a constant source of fuel for stills, I can guarantee 190 proof silliness.
Otherwise, it's subsistence coconut pruno, I guess. And you go blind, or crazy, quick, drinking that...
Hell yeah. I'm there. I'll trade you American food for the Greek stuff. Especially the saganaki (which I always want to call nagasaki...a somewhat unfortunate brain-linkage...)
(On a similar note, I just had a friend invite me to go on a motorbike tour of Vietnam with her next year. My heart says YES, MY GOD, YES. My brain says I can't ride a *normal* bike, much less a motorbike...le sigh.)
BOP, I cannot believe that this did not occur to me (with thanks to paulsc). Do you approve? What winebeer whiskey would you recommend?
Of course, the rest of us know that we'll really be staging a fake BOP luau, a la Jawbreaker suicide in M*A*S*H, but sssshhhhh, don't tell the Bitter Old Punk or he won't come to the island.
Fuzzbean, I teach English here in Latvia, and in a lesson about vacations and tourism last week, a relatively low-level student (she's level 5 out of 14) became really, really excited when she was talking about her trip to Vietnam last year. It turned into a whole-class discussion about how people can be wealthy without having lots of material things because they've got family, friends, love, and beautiful scenery (which was hard for them to pronounce once they saw the word)...so I vote for going. She also said the coffee was the best she'd ever had in her life (which was good, because we'd just learned how to make superlatives, like "the most delicious").
Learning to ride a motorcycle isn't like, you know, learning to be an astronaut, or a contract lawyer. And you've got a long time to practice.
I'll bring a team of gleaming black Friesian horses for all to ride, along with a phaeton carriage for those wanting to have the twilight tour snuggled in a nice cushy seat under a light wrap. Also I will bring a couple of cute Shetland ponies for the little folks to learn to ride.
In addition, I will assit in any planting duties, because I love gardening.
photo by splunge
photo by TheophileEscargot
photo by Kronos_to_Earth
photo by ethylene
