Thursday, June 18, 2009
 | Current mood:Douchey Category: Blogging Liz and Kathy Stand Beside Douchey Things in Salem We are back faithful readers as I, Elizabeth E. Andrews, am visiting Kathryn-Wathryn in Boston. Chronicled in the following blog entry are the adventures of the past week. What are the rules? I’m glad you asked. I type in lower case, and Kathy-Wathy types in caps. Enjoy the ride. Covered in this blog: -An Art Project to End All Art Projects -Thanks for the Vocabulary Lesson, Colin -America’s Douchiest City: A History Lesson -Hogwart’s School of Witchcraft and Wizardry -Nathaniel’s House -The Douche, er, I mean, Duck Tour -Divine Intervention Reunites Us with Colin in August If you remember from our previous blog, Kathy and I were ordering moped t-shirts because they were a sign from the great Decemberisty Gods from above or Portland…whatever. Well we decided to go one better and make hoodies out of our shirts. Why? Because that’s the way we roll. Imaginary Colin caught wind of our plan when he played in Boston last week, and was so impressed with the outcome he volunteered to model our creations. Thanks, Imaginary Colin.   Side note here- Kathy and I took a trip out to visit her sister Jenny and it was only a short time until my brother showed up. I am sure you are wondering why my brother would drive all the way to western Mass. You see when Kathy and I get together our younger siblings cannot help but tag along—if only for the reason of mocking us. Those of you who are older siblings of people who consider themselves to be members of the “art community” will understand this. Younger, arty siblings enjoy nothing more than to follow their older siblings around and smugly make comments about everything their older siblings do. I know, I know. They should get lives, and stop living in the shadows mocking their older, wiser, and ever so clever siblings. But to get on with it, Kathy and I asked them both if they had read our blog of the previous week. To this both of them replied that they had not. What a blow to Kathy and me. All those years of supporting them in their artistic ventures and they could not even take a minute to read our grandly described adventures. Kathy and I decided that there was no other solution than to put “The Hazards of Love” in the stereo and have them listen to the album as they read our blog. They sat and sat staring at us and rolling their eyes as we listened to the album, but did not approach the computer. After awhile I said, “I’ve got 60 songs here people. This can go on all night.” It wasn’t long until they were both at the computer reading our genius. You could see in their eyes that they were both impressed and envious that they are not as clever as we. Sure they tried to hide it, but Kathy and I know how arties and their coal black jealous hearted souls work. SO THOSE WHO READ OUR LAST INSTALLMENT KNOW I WAS PLANNING TO SEE REAL COLIN PLAY WITH THE DECEMBERISTS HERE IN BOSTON LAST WEEK. I DID, AND THEY ROCKED. ALBEIT, NOT AS MUCH AS THEY ROCKED IN RALEIGH, BUT STILL. ONE WAY THE BOSTON SHOW MADE UP FOR THE 45-DEGREE JUNE WEATHER FOR AN OUTDOOR CONCERT, HOWEVER, WAS COLIN’S HAMMY BANTER DURING THE BAND’S PERFORMANCE OF HIS “WORST SONG EVER,” “DRACULA’S DAUGHTER.” COLIN INTRODUCED US TO THE IDEA OF A “DOUCHEY CHORD PROGRESSION.” …This coming from the same man who will in the next breath say phrases such as “truncated version of this song” or “irascible blackguard.” Hopefully this illustrates his alluring vocabulary. THIS LED MISS LIZZY-POOH AND ME TO REALIZE THAT “DOUCHEY” IS A WORD WE DO NOT USE NEARLY ENOUGH. FORTUNATELY, BECAUSE WE HAVE BEEN LOOKING FOR OPPORTUNITIES TO INTRODUCE THIS WONDERFUL WORD TO OUR DAILY BANTER, LIZ AND I JUST HAPPENED TO BE SIGHTSEEING TODAY. Bye the bye- some of you might be wondering what one uses as libation when blogging about Salem. Well when one blogs in NC, one drinks Biltmore wine, and when one blogs about Salem, one drinks black cat wine. We bought the kitty-cat wine in Amherst before we decided to go to Salem. We don’t make this shit up people. We simply exude coincidence.  In order to give me the grandest time possible in Mass., Kathy took me to Salem. We had a splendid time, and not only are we going to share it with you, we are also going to give you a history lesson as well. First of all, did you know that Salem is listed in the America’s National Tourist Tour Guide as America’s Douchiest City? I did not in fact know this until I read the very informative placard welcoming us into the historic city. HERE IS LIZ IN FRONT OF YE OLDE SALEM ARMORY VISITOR CENTER. SHE IS STANDING NEXT TO YE OLDE FOUNTAIN OF PEACE. THIS HISTORIC WATER FOUNTAIN HAS BEEN THE SITE OF UNPRECEDENTED WATER UNDER THE RACIAL BRIDGE, AS THEY SAY. YOU SEE, IT WAS HERE IN 1975 THAT JOHN F. KENNEDY AND MARTIN LUTHER KING MET ON HALLOWEEN NIGHT WHEN THEY WERE BOTH IN TOWN FOR THE NATIONAL WITCHES FOR PEACE AND RACIAL HARMONY CONVENTION. AND IT WAS HERE ON THIS SITE THAT REV. KING AND JFK DECIDED TO DRINK THE WATERS OF RACIAL PEACE FROM THE FOUNTAIN, SIMULTANEOUSLY. CONSEQUENTLY, AS AN HISTORICAL FOOTNOTE, WHAT DID THEY DRESS UP AS? JFK WAS DRESSED AS MARILYIN MONROE AND KING WAS A PURITAN.   THIS IS THE SALEM WITCH MUSEUM. WE WERE IN FRONT OF IT. THE MUSEUM CLOSED AT 5. WE GOT THERE AT 4:30, BUT JUST AS WE WALKED UP, MY WATCH ALL OF A SUDDEN READ 5:02. AND A MASS (NO PUN INTENDED, HEH HEH) OF PEOPLE SPEWED FROM THE BUILDING. THEY DON’T MESS AROUND WITH CLOSING TIME IN SALEM.  THIS IS YE OLDE MOLESTO-VAN IN FRONT OF THE SALEM WITCH MUSEUM. NO FURTHER COMMENT NEEDED.  Below is a picture of a stat  ure of John Conat. He was the first American to open, prepare and eat the first packet of instant quaker oatmeal. THIS IS YE OLDE SALEM WAR MEMORIAL. THE FLOWERS WERE ALL FRESHLY PLACED JUST MOMENTS BEFORE WE ARRIVED. THEN THEY DIED. SALEM IS A TOWN BRIMMING WITH DEATH. WE EVEN HEARD SOME GUYS TALKING ABOUT IT AS WE WALKED DOWN THE STREET: “MAN, MY CELLPHONE JUST DIED.” I SAID TO LIZ, “AND DEATH SURROUNDS US AS A CHILLING BREEZE SWEEPS ACROSS OUR FACES.”  Below you will find a picture of some grave stones for ye olde super ancient graveyard. It was full of squawking birds because Salem doesn’t want Kathy to enjoy the history found among the slumbering and tortured souls. Not being afraid of birds, I braved it into the hallowed grounds and learned some interesting facts. For instance, this particular graveyard is the home of Yorick Berstum, the plaque maker for all of the signs on every single house in Salem which tell visitors who lived in them and what their professions were.   PLEASE SEE BELOW FOR AN EXAMPLE OF THE SIGNS THAT ARE ON EVERY. SINGLE. HOUSE. IN SALEM. UNFORTUNATELY, THERE WAS A WALKING CHARICATURE OUTSIDE OF THE HOUSE BUILT FOR A “MARINER,” OR WE WOULD HAVE SHOWN YOU THAT ONE, TOO.  Please enjoy this photo of Kathryn pointing to an ever so douchey sign advertising ye olde witchcraft pictures. It is a little known fact that if you pretend to be a witch and dress up to have your photo taken that you will be cursed to a live of douche-baggary and severe misfortune.  HEREWITH BELOW A PHOTO OF YE OLDE JOHN BERTRAM HOUSE. JOHN BERTRAM WAS THE OLDEST PURITAN TO COME OVER ON THE MAYFLOWER, SO IT IS FITTING THAT HIS HOUSE IS NOW AN OLDE FOLKES’ HOME.  HERE IS A PHOTO OF LIZ STANDING BEHIND A SIGN ADVERTISING YE OLDE LIZZIE BORDEN MUSEUM. WE WEREN’T KIDDING ABOUT THE DOUCHEY SIGNS PEOPLE.  The following is a picture of America’s first school of witchcraft and wizardry. It was founded in 1685 by one Madam Johanna Kiki Rowlington. I have it on good authority that all seven Harry Potter novels are influenced by this prestigious house of higher learning. The wait for enrollment is a mile long and so hard to come by that even J.K. Rowling’s children have been waitlisted.  Getting to the House of Seven Gables proved to be more difficult than we had expected. Much like the stairs in the 4th floor corridor of Hogwarts, the roads in Salem change. This simple fact forced me to shake my fist and proclaim to Kathy, “Now I completely understand what Colin meant when he said, ‘O New England, I think I’d rather just wait in the car’.” FIRST WE TRIED TO WALK THERE, BUT WERE COMPLETELY TURNED AROUND. THEN WE USED THE GPS ON MY PHONE AND ENDED UP ONE TOWN OVER FROM SALEM. Like I said 4th floor corridor. FINALLY, WE WERE ON THE RIGHT TRACK, AND WE PULLED UP NEXT TO THE HOUSE OF THE SEVEN GABLES…JUST IN TIME FOR IT TO CLOSE. PLEASE ENJOY THE FOLLOWING 7 PHOTGRAPHS THAT MISS LIZ AND I WERE ABLE TO TAKE AT THE HOUSE OF THE SEVEN GABLES. Not only is The House of the Seven Gables Nathaniel Hawthorne’s home, where he composed various stories such as “The Minister’s Black Vail” and The Scarlet Letter, but IT IS ALSO WHERE HAWTHORNE, BY THE UNQUESTIONED ACCOUNT OF ONE E.A. POE, WOULD ACT OUT WITH PUPPETS SOME OF THE, “SPICIER,” SCENES FROM HIS WORKS, MANY OF WHICH HAVE UNFORTUNATELY BEEN LOST TO US. One of which is a delightful tale about a young chimbley sweep who was orphaned and must live a life of tortured chimney sweeping. The poor lad was forced to supplement his income by selling his young, subtle, soot stained body to all of lonely widows in Salem. It is widely believed among Hawthorneian scholars that “The Scarlet Chimbley” is largely autobiographical, and follows quite closely the details of Nathaniel’s early years. here are seven pictures...     So Kathy hates me and she said, “god damn it liz! I’ve lived in boston for nigh on 3 years and I haven’t bothered to do anything touristy. I can’t possibly be expected to do it on my own. I am far too superior in my fellow-ness to do that damned sort of thing. Now that you are here I have the perfect excuse to go on a duck tour.” “A dick tour?” “No, A Duck tour. It’s where you ride on an amphibious vehicle around the city and on the Charles River.” “But oh Kathy I get ever so motion sick.” I said to Kathy. “fuck you.” [SOUNDS JUST LIKE ME, RIGHT?] Was her reply and, “you’ll take these god damned motion sickness pills if it fucking kills you.” She said as she crammed the Dramamine down my throat. She wouldn’t even let me have a swig of diet coke to wash them down with. [THAT’S ME, WITHHOLDER OF DIET COKE. OH, AND DELIBERATE GET-LIZ-DRUNK-ER. YEP, THAT’S ONE’S TRUE] We get onto the boat to wait for the duck tour to begin, and Kathy and I proceed to text with our siblings. She tells them that we are going on a duck tour, but her I phone corrects her spelling to say that we were going on a dick tour. Har, har, har. [ACTUALLY, THE EXACT QUOTE WAS, “Liz and I are about to begin a dick tour of Boston and the only other people on the tour are our new Indian boyfriends. I feel dirty” Yes. THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT IT SAID] As it turned out, the I phone was indeed correct it was a dick tour in that I think the tour guide was a dick. AND I THINK LIZ’S EXPECTATIONS OF SINCERITY FROM A DUCK TOUR GUIDE ARE A BIT TOO HIGH. I expect them to wear pants, not sweat pants. BUT LIZ, IT WAS COLD AND THE LAST TOUR OF THE DAY, AND WE WENT IN THE WATER. SWEAT PANTS WERE ENTIRELY APPROPRIATE. For thirty dollars, I expect at least dungarees. OK, I GIVE IN. FOR THIRTY DOLLARS I WANT AT LEAST A DICK TOUR. It was on from there to the fancy cocktail dinner where Kathy “ordered” me drinks…more like “plotted” my drinks. That’s right gentle reader. Her m.o. hasn’t changed. Get liz drunk and laugh at her. “OH, liz you will most certainly love this drink.” I should know better by now. It really is my own fault. fancy, unassuming cocktail that packs a punch  FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVEN’T FIGURED IT OUT YET, MISS LIZ IS A LITTLE TIPSY. AND, THEREFORE, A LITTLE FEISTY. I DID NOT PLOT TO GET HER DRUNK. IN FACT, I TRIED TO TALK HER OUT OF THE THIRD ROUND OF DRINKS, BUT SHE WASN’T HEARING IT. “No, Kathy, I’m your guest and I want to stay and have another overpriced cocktail.” “ARE YOU SURE, LIZ? IT MIGHT BE REALLY STRONG.” “YES, DAMN IT, Kathy, the stronger the better! Bring it on!” SO THAT’S THE REAL STORY OF HOW LIZ GOT TO THIS STATE AND WHY SHE’S WRITING LIKE I’M VICITMIZING HER. IN SHORT, I THINK LIZ’S BEHAVIOR IS SHOWING THAT YES, THERE IS SUCH A THING AS TOO MUCH DECEMBERISTS’ MUSIC. AFTER A CERTAIN POINT, IT ALL BECOMES JUST DEATH AND SUBJUGATION. ON THIS NOTE, YOU MIGHT WONDER IF I’M WRONG TO ENCOURAGE THIS ‘UNHEALTHY” INTEREST IN SUCH DARK AND TERRIFYING MUSIC. WELL, WHAT CAN I SAY? IT’S GOT A GOOD BEAT AND YOU CAN DANCE TO IT. PLUS, IF YOU THINK I HAVE THE WILL POWER TO TURN DOWN AN OPPORTUNITY TO OGLE THE MEAT CANDY THEN YOU REALLY DON’T KNOW ME, DO YOU? WHICH BRINGS US TO THE FINAL TOPIC: COLIN LOVES US, HE REALLY LOVES US! WHILE PERUSING HER PERIODIC UPDATE FROM THE DECEMBERISTS YESTERDAY, LIZ FOUND OUT THAT THE BAND HAS ADDED ON SOME TOUR DATES AT THE END OF THE SUMMER. AUGUST WILL BE BRINGING THEM BACK TO MASSACHUSETTS! SO THE SUMMER RUNG IN WITH THE DECEMBERISTS WILL BE CLOSED WITH THEM, TOO. ONLY THIS TIME, WE WILL BE WITH THE HONEY GLAZED HAM HIMSELF IN A PARK IN WESTERN MASS. OOOOH. I’M GETTING CHILLS JUST THINKING ABOUT IT. 
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