Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Vs. The World (halloween edition)

Vs. The World is James Anthony Zoccoli, Kyle Hamman, and Seeking Wonderland (Misha Fiksel, Kevin Richey, Paul Foster, Micah Bezold, Colby Bessera) and we perform experimental improvisational music with stories, poems, and all out rants.

The picture is kevin rocking the trumpet at Morseland.

This is part of the halloween story i read:

The first Halloween I vaguely remember was in 1977. We had just moved from Lawton, Oklahoma to North Little Rock, Arkansas. We arrived in North Little Rock on the 31st of October. All that my family owned pulled from the U-Haul truck and loaded into the garage of the house we were supposed to be moving into due to the fact that the lady who my parents bought the house from hadn’t moved out just yet. At some point my parents realized that in all the hustle and bustle of the moving, costumes had been forgotten about, packed away and buried in a garage full of boxes. Luckily, my Uncle Don and Aunt Susie, along with cousins Tim, Matt, and Kari, lived down the street now and we could borrow a costume from them. They also had neighbor friends, The Farnsworth Family, that would also help out and so was born Super-3PO-Boy. It was a mixture of Star Wars plastic mask, a cape made from a towel, some sort of head covering and my superman pajamas. I remember crying.

In third grade my class was responsible for the play that was to be presented in the month of October. I was to be a bat. My teacher gave patterns to all the little third grade students to pass on to our parents or guardians so that they might make our costumes from black trash bags and construction paper. Trash bags…bat wings….construction paper….bat mask. Easy. Now, I just want to say this… I love my mom. My mom is awesome. My mom followed that pattern exactly. Here’s the thing. The pattern, and thus my mom, did not take into account the fact that I had and still have a large melon. The eyes on the bat mask pattern did not match the eyes on my head. I could only see out of one and ¼ eyes and thus my day was spent cocking my head at various angles trying to see out of holes the size of peanuts with eyes the size of grapes. I learned about headaches that day. I don’t remember crying.

In high school my friends and I would have an annual shaving cream fight on Halloween. We would pick somebody’s house to be the base and there we would gear up. Beat up Converse. Check. Old pair of acid-washed jeans. Check. Winter coat from three winters ago. Check. Baseball caps or bandannas would “protect” our heads from getting shaving cream in the hair. Aerosol caps stolen from mom’s old hairspray can would create a steady long distance spray of shaving cream. Balloons filled with shaving cream created grenades to unleash a heavy load in expedient manner. Frisbees, bikes, basketballs, whatever we could get our hands became a weapon in our shaving cream battles. We had fun. I often got hurt. I didn’t cry.