Wednesday, July 8, 2009

At The 11th Hour, Does She Or Dozen She?

At The Eleventh Hour, Does She Or Dozen She?

Today, on July 8, 2009, or 07/08/09, at 34 minutes and 56 seconds after midnight, and also at 34 minutes and 56 seconds after noon, in all the World's Time Zones, it will be 12:34:56 on 07/08/09. But Princess Carol The Tenth will have the added distinction during those two seconds of being the reigning Princess Carol The Tenth. During our long and untumultous, and uneventful, 12-year engagement, Princess Carol The Tenth has not been kicked to the curb. Does she wish to continue her reign as Princess Carol The Tenth, and continue to wear the abstract crown she has symbolically worn since I asked for her hand in mirage in 1997, 12 years ago? At the 11th hour, Does She Or Dozen She? At 12:34:56 on 07/08/09, will Princess Carol The 10th, at the 11th hour, decide once and for all, Does She Or Dozen She?

The Red Telephone

I had missed Princess Carol The Tenth since the 1990’s. Truly, I had pined for her. Without her disapproving frown aimed in my direction, and her judgmental silence, something was missing from my life. Right after the special on the life of Michael Jackson last Wednesday night, I knew something had to be done. So I printed up some reward posters, “Ten Dollar Reward For Information Leading To The Truth About Princess Carol The Tenth.“ I had posted them on telephone poles all over town. I had carried my hammer and little tacks from the Dollar Store industriously and purposely up the Avenues and down the Streets they intersected with in my small Southern town with the four restaurants and three car repair businesses. I had gotten the tacking of the Reward Posters down to a science, and was able to attach a flyer to the telephone pole with seven swings of the hammer. Now, at 4:45 a.m., completely exhausted, I came back to my apartment and opened the back door quietly so the neighbors would not know that I was on another Princess Carol The Tenth downer, and had pulled an all nighter in a futile attempt to know one percent more about her than I had known the year before, and the year before that. The Red Telephone rang. I slammed the door behind me, and rushed for the red bakelite telephone with the cosmic connections to realms beyond. I desperately hoped someone had seen my Reward Poster about Princess Carol The Tenth, and was ready to reveal the truth. I checked my left front pocket to make4 sure I had a $10 bill.

“Hello,” I said, my heart racing. “Hooknose McGee here. How may I help you?”.

“Well, good morning, Hooknose McGee. This is Tirsa Adara.”

“Tirsa Adara?” I asked, puzzled. “Who are you?”.

“I am a wedding planner,” Tirsa Adara explained. “Princess Carol The Tenth has hired me to work out the kinks that have delayed her wedding for more than a decade, and so in order to coordinate the terms and conditions between the parties, I am now contacting you to make sure everything is in order.”

“Well, Tirsa Adara,” I said, with an air of confidence, “Things have always been in order for me. On the coldest winter days, I wear only one pair of socks. Unlike Princess Carol The Tenth, I do not get cold feet.”

“Oh, get real, Hooknose McGee,” Tirsa Adara said, indignantly. “Princess Carol The Tenth has had to wait patiently for 12 long years for you to make good on your promise to marry her. She was shocked in the first place when you said you firmly believe in 12 year engagements. Now, it was just yesterday Princess Carol The Tenth told me personally, the only thing stopping her from heading down the aisle is you sending her a two-carat engagement ring.”

“Tirsa Adara,” I said, feeling totally misunderstood. “I have endured much hardship for the sake of Princess Carol The Tenth. I have stood faithfully by her during the economic collapse, when it rained, during the Swine Flu epidemic, and through repeated attempts to get the gold Hall of Fame ring I earned by my noble deeds in January 1994. What I need for you to do, Ms. Adara, since you are the only go-between there is for the Princess and myself, I need for you to tell Her Imperial Majesty that when I asked for a 12 year engagement to work out the differences between us, her wealth and my poverty, her popularity and my obscurity, little details like that, I was buying time, it is true, and even though I asked for a dozen years, I really meant a baker’s dozen.” Donald Trump or Ted Turner could not have negotiated another year tacked on the end of the contract more smoothly than that, and I was beaming with pride.

“Well, Hooknose McGee,” Tirsa Adara admitted, with admiration in her voice, “When you put it like that, I can certainly see your point of view. No wonder Princess Carol The Tenth loves you so madly. You are smart and ain’t got no money, so she feels sorry for you. But you sure ain’t good looking. But then, opposites attract, I guess that is the only thing that can save this union.”

“Ah, ah, ah! Tirsa Adara!” I protested. “My humility, the hubris of Princess Carol The Tenth, and a two-carat cubic zirconium, with a one year grace period before Princess Carol The Tenth walks regally down the aisle, is what is gonna save this union. And I want you to remind Her Imperial Majesty that she groveled at my feet just outside the ruins of Princess Carol The Tenth Lunar Stadium on May 6, 2016. Have you so easily forgotten that Her Imperial Majesty crawled through a mile of glass and rubble just to grovel at my feet, so profound was her love for me?”.

“Well, I am sure it is a memory Princess Carol The Tenth will always cherish. So now, I ask you, Hooknose McGee, since you are determined to stay poor and live in a storage shed, when can we expect to receive that two-carat cubic zirconium ring in the mail?”.

“As soon as I get something missing from my life in the mail,” I replied defiantly.

“And just what might that be, Hooknose McGee?” Tirsa Adara asked curiously.

“The gold Hall of Fame ring JBQ should have had the self-respect to send to me a long time ago,” Hooknose McGee explained, disillusioned. “You don’t just let somebody push the button to save the world from economic ruin without calling him ’Honorable Mr. Secretary.’ And by the same token, you don’t just keep running your law firm without sending a gold Hall of Fame ring to the lowly employee who rescued the back-up tapes so you would still have a law firm, regardless of whether the earthquake pushed the building over or not.”

“I will humbly convey your sentiments to Princess Carol The Tenth,” Tirsa Adara said, in a subdued tone of voice.

“I would appreciate it, Ms. Adara,” I replied, frustrated that I have had to keep fighting for my right to wear a gold Hall of Fame for more than ten years. “You have a nice day.” Then I hung up the Red Telephone.

Picture of Princess Carol The Tenth on Island

(c) 2009 or 2016 by Hooknose McGee

UFO's Have Landed Here