Not Just Another Halloween Bash

Several years back, someone got the bright idea The Unbelievables should throw a Halloween party. 

It wasn't me. It wasn't Jeff. And it wasn't Clark. We have enough business to attend to as dashing, crime-fighting upkeepers of the tried and true.

No ... it was the general public at large.

John Q. Public, out there in Stiletto Flats somewhere, came along one day and asked "You know what? Why not have The Unbelievables host Stiletto Flats Halloween Bash this year?" The idea was bandied about, ended up growing legs and, suddenly, it was a town rallying cry resulting in an official invitation to us from the mayor of Stiletto Flats himself. He called us down to his office one afternoon, passed warm greetings all around and put the question to us:

"How 'bout it guys? Everyone knows your parties are legendary over there at the Unbelieva-Base. I hear past parties contained apple bobbing that's legendary! We think you guys would put together a terrific shindig!" he stated enthusiastically.

We might know a trick or two about apple bobbing ...

"What about the muckety-mucks who disagree with the term 'Halloween'?" Jeff wondered. "You know there's always a group out there who want to ruin all the fun for everyone  ... turn it into a 'Harvest Festival' and quash the spooky element out of it."

"Oh, don't worry about them. The whole town is up for this thing. The naysayers won't come near - they'll stay at home and want nothing to do with it. No trouble at all." The Mayor's words held water. Stiletto Flats is a pretty open and close-knit community with most folks on the same page. It's not without a few grumblers but what city isn't? And they do keep to themselves.

"We have free reign as to how we put it together?" Clark asked. 

Yeah ... we had ideas how to throw this party ...

"Certainly! We'll provide whatever venue you like, tables, chairs and all that jazz and even assign you a crew of grunts to help you put everything together if you like. Maybe you could invite the weird guy AppleBobby, too!"

AppleBob Appleby you mean? Uhhhm ... probably not ...

"We'll get back to you on him ... but sold!" I exclaimed looking at the guys for confirmation. "Just one thing: Halloween is on a weekday, school night and whatnot. Let's do it the Saturday prior. Good?"

"Terrific!" The Mayor agreed. 

We set out to make plans. Ideas were bandied about, preparations got underway and posters were printed up (courtesy of the Stiletto Flats Bugle), distributed and displayed. With The Unbelievables featured, the upcoming festival was the talk of the town.

It turned out that didn't sit very well with some of our down-in-the-mouth foes of old once they got wind of it however. How could a simple good time party for the public at large get under someone's collar? But it did.

And here's how that turned out ...

Work Avoidance

Well, it was supposed to be a return to something in the vicinity of sort of approaching nearly normal. Ish. Kinda. But then - what is normal anyway? In a world where millions are starving and dying from drinking filthy water,

in a world where a seemingly mild-mannered ("it's always the quiet ones") accountant can stockpile dozens of semi-automatic weapons, hole up in a hotel in Vegas, spray bullets randomly onto concertgoers below and kill 58 people and wound over 500 others, in a world where a funny looking little chubby guy with a silly grin and even sillier haircut can test nuclear weapons and cause earthquakes and threaten the USA, pushing the world to the brink of nuclear war,

in a world where the most powerful man in the world is an out-and-out racist property developer with a reality show and delusions of grandeur who fancies his own daughter,

in a world where a bloke who lives in the UK's brother dies and he finds himself suddenly in charge of Syria and a group of radical extremists made up of a raggle-taggle bunch of radicalised twits who like to blame the West for all their problems when in fact the biggest problem in the world is religious extremists can terrorise people all over the world with makeshift bombs and drive vans into crowds,

in a world where people go on reality TV shows and then suddenly become famous purely for being famous -- in a world like that, what is normal?

On a NORMAL week, one that begins with a post from Clark, as it did on Monday, one would have expected a Wednesday missive from Michael. 

However, that didn't happen. Now, there could be several reasons for this, since we know Michael is back from wherever it was he went last week. For example...

• He could have temporary memory loss, affecting his ability to write (or spell)...
  
• He could have temporary paralysis of the wrist, affecting his ability to type ( or hold a pen)...
• He could have severe jet-lag, affecting his ability to get out of bed (or even sleep properly)...
  
• He could be burning the midnight oil writing a report on his findings from his mission and hence not have time to write a missive on this week's blog...
• He could have contracted some sort of tropical disease and be sleeping only fitfully, sweat-soaked and muttering weird oaths while having equally weird dreams...
  

We honestly can't say. We've not seen hide nor hair of him since his return. 

One thing I do know, though. He's back for sure, and if I know my buddy Michael, he'll be back to whatever passes for "normal" around here soon enough. It'll take more than jet-lag and a nasty case of the squitters to lay him low for too long. 

Anyhoo, Clark alluded to some of our down-time activities on Monday, so I'll tell you about mine.

I have three main leisure activities that I like to indulge in:

1. MUSIC. I love nothing better than picking out one of my fave platters, slipping it on the ol' turntable and crooning along (or, if the music is more suitable for dancing, I grab the nearest Unbelievababe and we cut a rug). Here's one of my current fave spins.
   
2. BOOKS. During a quiet moment, you can often find me with my nose buried in terrific tome, such as this one.
   
3. FOOD AND DRINK. Natch. There's nothing I find more therapeutic than getting 'in the zone' in the kitchen or behind the cocktail bar, whipping up Bloody Marys and whipped potatoes with equal aplomb.
   

Perhaps when Michael wakes up, he'll grace these pages with his choices for leisure activities.

He did? WHEN? Yesterday? Oh.

Sorry.

Forget I said anything.

Downtiming It

*yawn*


Yep, that downtime.

Time to relax. Re-energize. Embrace the slack. Cool down. Tune out. With nary a care in the world. 

Because ... sometimes? You just need to unplug from the world and let it do its own thing without you. It will still be there when you get back.

Me? It just so happens I did some of that last week, in a manner of speaking. I took a much needed vacation. On my return, little did I know I would come back to a week's worth of downtime. Talk about the planets aligning ... !!!

I was so relaxed in fact while "downtiming" I didn't make time to post yesterday when I should have. That's how comfortable I am currently! (Yes, you may envy me.)

At any rate, you may wonder: How do I do at doing nothing? Not like Clark and his zen time, I'll tell you that. His languid ideas are too much work for me; all those jigsaw puzzles and stamp collecting. Nope, not my bag.

This is what I do ...

I'll relax in the pool with an ice cold brewski ...

Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh ...

When that one has been quaffed leisurely-like, I'll call out to one of the Unbelieva-Babes for another ...

It's a rough life. I'm just here to tackle it ...

Later, a third one will most likely be in order ...

*sip*

I might get motivated from all the relaxing to ask a question or two ...

I'll probably wake up from snoozing in the pool to find yet another refreshing cold one has been placed in my hand ...

You may be wondering wear the lime slice is.

Those thoughtful Unbelieva-Babes take care of that prior to handing a beer over ...

*yawn*

Downtiming: It's hard sometimes.

Right about now you're wondering what Jeff's ideas on downtime consist of. You won't have long to wait ...

*yawn ... sip*

A return to (ab)normalcy-ish-ness

Michael is back and we don't have any major crisis to deal with, which means we can take a minute to catch our breath and re-set ourselves for whatever comes down the pipe next. This means we're actually getting a little downtime, which almost never happens. You already know about some of our hobbies and passions, but what about the ways we occupy ourselves when it's really quiet? I mean low-impact, relaxing pursuits. Waste of time? Perhaps. But sometimes that's a good idea. In our line of work, it doesn't come around often so we'd better enjoy it while it lasts.
I'll let the guys talk about the activities that help them zen out later this week, but here are mine:

JIGSAW PUZZLES

There's a low-stress sense of accomplishment when you put all the right pieces together to form an aesthetically pleasant image.

STAMP COLLECTING

Some countries really put some interesting artwork on their postage stamps. Each one is like a tiny miniature very small portrait.

GARDENING

I grow all the good vegetables in my garden. Green ones, red ones, orange ones. Are there orange vegetables? Of course there are. They're called oranges, duh.

NATURE PHOTOGRAPHY

I don't actually take photos. When it comes to cameras, I couldn't tell you which end you put your eyeball on and which end sucks up the image. But I do enjoy nature photography in that I enjoy looking at nature photos. Equal parts serene and wild. Who wouldn't enjoy that?

MODEL RAILROADING

Me like choo-choo trains.

Where's Michael? Asking because I don't know

You may have noticed that Michael didn't post on Monday. And you may have interpreted that as him being missing. That is both true and not so much.

Photographic proof of evidence that we were in one spot at the same time at some point.

See, Michael and I were working on a top secret case and he snuck into a top secret crime hideout to do some top secret recon. I was supposed to pick him up after... but I forgot where I dropped him off. So he's where he's supposed to be (presumably) but I don't know where that is. Hence, not missing and missing.
If anyone has any ideas where he might be, it might help. Here's what I remember:

• There's a castle, with parapets and everything
• Lots of people
• A serious rodent infestation
• Curiously clean in spite of the rodents
• Hot!
• A whole bunch of presidents
• Dwarfs
• Talking animals that don't talk
• Modes of transportation that Henri Petit would not be eligible to ride

Seems like I should know where this is.

Not That I'm Unconcerned, but...

I was somewhat less than amused when I awoke on Monday morning and discovered the Unbelievabase empty, save for myself, six of the Unbelievababes and a whole batch of whipped potatoes , freshly made in the kitchen. 

That's right. Clark and Michael were nowhere to be found. Gone. Vanished. Disappeared. Not there.

I scratched my head and tried to think if they'd told me of some undercover mission (what am I saying? ALL of our missions are undercover) they were embarking on, some urgent meeting with one or other heads of state (with the boobs that currently run this planet? Unlikely) or just an extended run to the store for some extra tortillas, guacamole and Tampico... but we were fully stocked.

I hunted around for some signs of life, or even a note. Nothing. Not even a religious pamphlet from The Church Of The Eighth-day, Holy-Rolling, Everlasting Gobstopper Freedom-Bus-Drivers of Nutwackett, NV just over in the next town. (Nutwackett, that is - they're a different breed over there. They had a suicide cult once, but once they'd gotten the brand new Nikes on their feet, they decided they didn't want to die. They're now the local basketball squad. They're good players and all, just don't accept any offers of Gatorade.)

But like I said, there was a moment or two of quiet panic and about five minutes of tearing my hair out with worry at what might have become of my two compadres, my amigos, my buddies, my ol' pals Clark and Michael.

And then I had an epiphany. A revelation. Buddhists may even say that I had a satori. (I did, once, and it was delicious, especially when washed down with a couple Mai Tais).

Like I was saying,  I had a satori. A pearl, a rare gem of sparkling wisdom, which was this.

I had the whole Unbelievabase to myself. I was alone with some fresh whipped potatoes and six of the Unbelievababes.

And that, my dear friend, is the point at which I quit worrying.  I'll be OK, and I'm sure my buddies are big enough and ugly enough to take care of themselves...

It would be dumb to do things we can't/won't do

Michael began the week with a post about things we can't/won't do because we're busy or otherwise disinterested. Jeff followed up with a plug for a cookbook. I'm not sure what I should do here so I guess I'll combine the two things: Things We Can't/Won't Cook/Eat.

MEATLOAF

Can eat it, will eat it (because it's delicious and the single reason that ketchup should exist), can't cook it. It's meat, I get that. But how do you get the onions and breadcrumbs in there? Feed that stuff to a cow a long time ago? Then, how do you get it into a loaf shape? Is there a loaf part of the cow?

Let the culinary geniuses figure that out and bless them for their selfless work.

PEAS

Could probably cook them (what is there to that besides heating them?), but won't because I won't eat them. I think they taste terrible. I also find them smug. And why are there always so many of them?

FISH WITH THE HEAD STILL ON

Can cook it (because as far as I can tell, all you do is take the fish out of the water and throw it right into the oven), absolutely will not ever eat it. Is an explanation even necessary? It is? Oh, okay; I'm not a sociopath. I don't enjoy looking at the facial expression of something while I eat it. Same goes for pancakes.

Avert your cold, dead, delicious gaze

BAKED GOODS

Will happily eat, can not cook. Every recipe starts with flour and water, which is how you make glue. Adding eggs and sugar to glue doesn't automatically equal cookies. Unless it does. I don't know.