My next act...creating a meaningful legend behind the practice of clipping your nails in public.

Called the party place, asked a few neighbors. And yeah. It's just a chair.

Which is sad really. Since I am the me that is me, I like a good story. I have a tendency to first assume--because it's more fun that way--that there's an elaborate cultural or spiritual or other meaningful significance to all the bizarre rituals and behaviors of modern man. And I really, really thought there'd be a great story behind the chair. Something epic and fascinating, a tale like "The chair dates back to the 14th century when an Acllacunas virgin wove an elaborate bridal throne for her ceremonial marriage to the state, an act punishable by death at the time, as thrones were only to be used by the highest male priests and nobility. However the manner in which she wove the chair made it light enough to wield, yet sturdy enough to fight off the soldiers who had come to arrest her, making her the first woman to escape Acllahuasi internment..." You get the picture. I have that Ken Burn's type crap going through my head all the time. About everything, anything, like why people on the subway have personal listening devices (iPod, walkman, etc.) yet insist on blaring their music loud enough for everyone else to hear. "...The forcing of one's music into other's personal space dates back to the first century and a rogue Viking bagpipe core..."

But not this time. No big story. Some chick twenty years ago had a big ugly chair at her wedding or shower, and her best friend was all, "When I (get married, have a baby) I'm sooooo getting one of those big wicker chairs." and then everyone who attended either event had to have one, and Viola! Everywhere you look; people walking around with big chairs. Which isn't the strangest thing that goes on my neighborhood. Once a year a few hundred men gather together to carry a four ton Saint On A Pole around a couple of miles. However at least that festival's got a pretty kick-ass story behind it.

Unlike the big white wicker chair. Which my friend Zeebah promised to carry me around in on the next holiday of my choosing, I'll remind her.

Posted by Antigeist at December 30, 2005 12:06 PM