Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Frodo sure does look smaller in person

TW and I just returned from a town in British Columbia where sitting on broken down American cars in abandoned parking lots drinking cheap domestic beer predominated the social landscape. Although slightly tempted to partake in one of the numerous parking lot gatherings, we instead opted for a bit of culture – we chose to attend an event billed as the “Art and Music Event of the Year”.

As we walked toward the “art and music event of the year” we heard booming drumbeats and pitches of laughter. We also heard from our guide rumors that Frodo Baggins (i.e. Elijah Wood) stayed on the couch of a friend of a friend’s third cousin the night before and would be one of the hip-hop DJs at the event. We could not wait.

Then at 11pm when we arrived at the entrance – a rusty make-shift gate bordering an unpaved parking lot sans dilapidated American cars – we learned that we were to pay $20 a piece to enter. We balked at this price but ultimately paid because we wanted to see Frodo Baggins that badly.

Crossing the threshold we discovered that the “art and music event of the year” attracted close to 150 skinny white boys drinking cheap domestic beer and listening to the rap musings of a tap dancing hip hop DJ. It seemed that we unintentionally stumbled upon the meta-parking lot gathering of the year.

Undeterred, we scoured the crowd of skinny men looking for one – just one – short, squat, hirsute man reminiscent of Frodo Baggins. No luck. Next we traversed the dusty lot strewn with empty beer bottles looking for the promised artwork. We did not find any sanctioned art but we did find an artfully placed pyramid of beer bottles. Finally we negotiated through the assemblages of white boys wearing tattered Stephen Harper campaign t-shirts seeking even just an inkling of like-minded west coast progressives – without success.

So, soon after arriving we decided to leave. But as we were about to walk to the exit we saw a short, squat, hirsute man adorned with a red and black Mexican wrestler mask take the stage. We stopped mid-step waiting to hear the voice of the emcee secretly wishing he would reference his hometown - the Shire. He did not.

Instead, the hirsute man proclaimed from the microphone, “Thanks for coming to this event. Some of the proceeds from tonight will go to support the one and only skate-park in Uganda. So, because of you, we will be able to send them skates and shit, yo.”

Soon after the emcee finished speaking I turned to TW and said, “How do you think ‘yo’ is translated into elvish?” She smirked, “I think ‘yo’ is universal and needs no translation.” Ah yes, so wise.


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