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MY FURRY TALES--STORIES FROM 25 YEARS IN THE FUR #18
Posted 12 years ago“The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.” Part two of two.
(Or, it’s because of you we can’t have nice lives.)
First thing, I want to note that this booking also comes from the same agent as before, but I do feel that this is a case of dumb luck, albeit bad dumb luck, and nothing more than that. Before I tell the details of this incident I’ll give a little bit of background.
Sadly, there are those who scam. What the clown or character provide is a service, entertainment. So there’s nothing to take back, repossess if you will after the job, birthday party, company picnic, special event or whatever. Also, and this is said quite honestly, in the Southern California area, both character and clown performers and “agents” are the proverbial dime a dozen. Go ahead and “burn” one performer or company and there’s “a million more” to go before you’ve gone through and burned them all.
Bottom line, to save money people lie. They call up the company, the agent, and say my character didn’t do this or that or the opposite that my character did do this or that and that was a horrible thing. The agents, in general, just don’t want to be bothered and give in, but it’s almost always the performer that ends up taking it in the-you-know-where. Again, as a general rule, the agent gets a deposit up front from the customer to book the party or event and that deposit represents the agents take or “commission”. If there’s a balance to pick up from the client after the job, it’s almost always what the performer will get paid for doing whatever it is that they do. Most agents prefer the performers get paid in cash to take care of them directly, no “payroll” checks to make out or report to the government, but some do it in the full bookkeeping procedure and do allow checks made out to the agency and then the performer must wait until the agent writes them a check of their own. To note however, 99% of performers like us are classed as sub-contractors and are not considered employees. No payroll taxes are taken out or paid to the government by the agent, so we, the performer, have to do that to reconcile our own taxes.
Again, as like getting the party from Hell, if you do this as a career you know it’s going to happen to you; law of averages and all that. So, in a case of financial self-survival, any character worth his salt knows that you get paid before you go, period. As to walk off without getting paid is a virtual guarantee that you’ve just done a show for nothing. Yes, there’s small claims court and all that, but let’s be realistic. It costs additional money to file, to then go to the eventual court date and the whole principle of small claims court is that you’re on your own past the judge’s decision in your favor to collect any monies owed. Nine times out of ten a small claims court win is a pyrrhic victory; you gain nothing and more than likely lose more for the costs incurred in doing it; so now on to tell of the personal experience.
The party in question wasn’t a birthday party, but a home day care party and it was in the mid-afternoon. Not that the time means anything here, it doesn’t, just noting it. The characters requested were the purple dinosaur and the baby dinosaur. I was purple; a friend of mine was the baby. We arrived, went to the back yard where everyone was, adults and kids, and we did what we do. I led, as you would expect from the “dominant” character. I have always prided myself on knowing the characters I do “inside-out” and doing them “spot-on”. If the character I was doing was extroverted then I would be. If they were reserved or even meek, then I would be that way as well. I sang songs as the purple dinosaur did and the baby dinosaur even sang he own “favorite” song “Itsy Bitsy Spider”. We played the games with the kids I (And we.) always do and the baby dinosaur interacted with the kids while I did painting on their hands. We finish up, put things away and get ready to leave.
As we’re doing this a couple of the adults, not the woman who would try to con us in only a few moments, even compliment us saying “We were great; they enjoyed us as much as the kids did”. The woman who owned the day care, the one we were doing the party for, said she’d see outside in a few moments. Outside here was outside their fenced backyard, exiting by a side gate. The fence was a solid 6 foot wooden fence and because of that, that we couldn’t be seen by anyone inside, I had parked my car right there at the curb. Can’t have anyone of the place we’re going to see “the magic transformation”.
The woman comes out and says she doesn’t want to pay us the full amount owed because we didn’t give her a good show. I don’t show it, but I am totally amazed that she’d say that given those compliments we had just gotten. Needless to say I instantly smell scammer, but I remain calm, cool and collected. By the time she came out both my friend and I were out of suit.
My tactic was to listen and politely rebut. I never raised my voice or got mad, though if I had I do believe I had every right to do so. And at the same time, I think I “won” out in the end by my sheer persistence to not give in. Believe it or not we spent close to a half hour at the curb “arguing”. Thank goodness this was on a weekday and this was a one and only show. If this had been a weekend day most likely I would’ve had another show to still go to and could not have spent the time I did. May I also say that with the apparent ease the woman lied left and right I’m pretty darn sure this wasn’t the first time she’d done this. It had been said in the backyard before we left it, during those compliments, that they had this kind of a party once a year. So sure, burn a company; get a new one to burn the next year and so on.
The woman starts out with saying that the baby dinosaur didn’t do enough and that she hardly said anything. I counter that as a secondary character, though they do participate, they do “follow” the lead character. I go over what-all she did do. Well, the lady then switches tactics, how she doesn’t realize she’s contradicting herself is beyond me, and she now says that the baby dinosaur talked too much. Again, there’s a lot of back-and-forth here that uses up time, but that is in sum, of what happened. That doesn’t move me to give in to her so she then says something else that immediately tells me she IS scamming. She says that we didn’t do any crafts; she was promised crafts. That is pure bull-bleep. We are people inside of fursuits with very limited vision and furry paws; come on. No costumed character does “crafts”, no character company in the Southern California area offers that, either as a standard or as an option and I also know that the lady, company, I’m working for does not offer that ever.
I remain polite and counter by saying she must have misunderstood, perhaps confused what a girl character that remains human might be able to do an offer. I know discretion is the better part of valor here, as to truly argue would get me nowhere and my goal is to get us paid; if she gets “huffy’ and refuses to pay and walks off forget ever getting paid then. I think she’s getting frustrated at not winning, so she excuses herself to call the agent. To note, she had a cell phone with her I saw it, why did she need to step away? She goes back in, to the other side of the fenced yard, perhaps inside the house, but as to the house that I don’t know. She comes out in a few minutes and says the agent didn’t answer but she left a message. That was another lie, for I found out after the fact she left no message when I talked with the woman agent later.
Well, honestly, what we had here was a stalemate. I wasn’t going to give up and she wasn’t going to fully give in. Long story short, and this is where I say I “won”, she reduced her discounting demands and I reluctantly accepted them, knowing full well we were innocent of the charges. She had originally wanted to only pay us half of the agreed-upon amount, she settled for thirty dollars. She paid us in cash, as she was supposed to, and my friend and I got in my car and left.
Aah, but to add insult to injury, but sadly with no surprise to me, after the fact the agent never “backed us up” or paid us that lost thirty dollars. She got her deposit, what did she care, even though she FULLY supported that what the woman did was pure bull-bleep. She whined that she couldn’t do anything, but to write her a letter and threaten to take her to small claims court.
As noted above, yea, fat lot of good that would ever do. I’m sorry, but by the rules of fairness and decency here, given that she agreed we were totally blameless, that agent should've paid us the owed thirty...even if it did have to come out of her own pocket. We were TOTALLY innocent, we did our job with no mistakes, why SHOULDN'T we get our full pay? Well, her very simple and lame excuse was “I can’t do that”. No my dear, I thought but did not say, it's simply that you WON’T. But even if you and others don't, I have morals and ethics so I paid my friend in full and I took the financial sword of “eating” the thirty dollars. I did the right thing!
Semper Furry! --“Me Furry”
(Or, it’s because of you we can’t have nice lives.)
First thing, I want to note that this booking also comes from the same agent as before, but I do feel that this is a case of dumb luck, albeit bad dumb luck, and nothing more than that. Before I tell the details of this incident I’ll give a little bit of background.
Sadly, there are those who scam. What the clown or character provide is a service, entertainment. So there’s nothing to take back, repossess if you will after the job, birthday party, company picnic, special event or whatever. Also, and this is said quite honestly, in the Southern California area, both character and clown performers and “agents” are the proverbial dime a dozen. Go ahead and “burn” one performer or company and there’s “a million more” to go before you’ve gone through and burned them all.
Bottom line, to save money people lie. They call up the company, the agent, and say my character didn’t do this or that or the opposite that my character did do this or that and that was a horrible thing. The agents, in general, just don’t want to be bothered and give in, but it’s almost always the performer that ends up taking it in the-you-know-where. Again, as a general rule, the agent gets a deposit up front from the customer to book the party or event and that deposit represents the agents take or “commission”. If there’s a balance to pick up from the client after the job, it’s almost always what the performer will get paid for doing whatever it is that they do. Most agents prefer the performers get paid in cash to take care of them directly, no “payroll” checks to make out or report to the government, but some do it in the full bookkeeping procedure and do allow checks made out to the agency and then the performer must wait until the agent writes them a check of their own. To note however, 99% of performers like us are classed as sub-contractors and are not considered employees. No payroll taxes are taken out or paid to the government by the agent, so we, the performer, have to do that to reconcile our own taxes.
Again, as like getting the party from Hell, if you do this as a career you know it’s going to happen to you; law of averages and all that. So, in a case of financial self-survival, any character worth his salt knows that you get paid before you go, period. As to walk off without getting paid is a virtual guarantee that you’ve just done a show for nothing. Yes, there’s small claims court and all that, but let’s be realistic. It costs additional money to file, to then go to the eventual court date and the whole principle of small claims court is that you’re on your own past the judge’s decision in your favor to collect any monies owed. Nine times out of ten a small claims court win is a pyrrhic victory; you gain nothing and more than likely lose more for the costs incurred in doing it; so now on to tell of the personal experience.
The party in question wasn’t a birthday party, but a home day care party and it was in the mid-afternoon. Not that the time means anything here, it doesn’t, just noting it. The characters requested were the purple dinosaur and the baby dinosaur. I was purple; a friend of mine was the baby. We arrived, went to the back yard where everyone was, adults and kids, and we did what we do. I led, as you would expect from the “dominant” character. I have always prided myself on knowing the characters I do “inside-out” and doing them “spot-on”. If the character I was doing was extroverted then I would be. If they were reserved or even meek, then I would be that way as well. I sang songs as the purple dinosaur did and the baby dinosaur even sang he own “favorite” song “Itsy Bitsy Spider”. We played the games with the kids I (And we.) always do and the baby dinosaur interacted with the kids while I did painting on their hands. We finish up, put things away and get ready to leave.
As we’re doing this a couple of the adults, not the woman who would try to con us in only a few moments, even compliment us saying “We were great; they enjoyed us as much as the kids did”. The woman who owned the day care, the one we were doing the party for, said she’d see outside in a few moments. Outside here was outside their fenced backyard, exiting by a side gate. The fence was a solid 6 foot wooden fence and because of that, that we couldn’t be seen by anyone inside, I had parked my car right there at the curb. Can’t have anyone of the place we’re going to see “the magic transformation”.
The woman comes out and says she doesn’t want to pay us the full amount owed because we didn’t give her a good show. I don’t show it, but I am totally amazed that she’d say that given those compliments we had just gotten. Needless to say I instantly smell scammer, but I remain calm, cool and collected. By the time she came out both my friend and I were out of suit.
My tactic was to listen and politely rebut. I never raised my voice or got mad, though if I had I do believe I had every right to do so. And at the same time, I think I “won” out in the end by my sheer persistence to not give in. Believe it or not we spent close to a half hour at the curb “arguing”. Thank goodness this was on a weekday and this was a one and only show. If this had been a weekend day most likely I would’ve had another show to still go to and could not have spent the time I did. May I also say that with the apparent ease the woman lied left and right I’m pretty darn sure this wasn’t the first time she’d done this. It had been said in the backyard before we left it, during those compliments, that they had this kind of a party once a year. So sure, burn a company; get a new one to burn the next year and so on.
The woman starts out with saying that the baby dinosaur didn’t do enough and that she hardly said anything. I counter that as a secondary character, though they do participate, they do “follow” the lead character. I go over what-all she did do. Well, the lady then switches tactics, how she doesn’t realize she’s contradicting herself is beyond me, and she now says that the baby dinosaur talked too much. Again, there’s a lot of back-and-forth here that uses up time, but that is in sum, of what happened. That doesn’t move me to give in to her so she then says something else that immediately tells me she IS scamming. She says that we didn’t do any crafts; she was promised crafts. That is pure bull-bleep. We are people inside of fursuits with very limited vision and furry paws; come on. No costumed character does “crafts”, no character company in the Southern California area offers that, either as a standard or as an option and I also know that the lady, company, I’m working for does not offer that ever.
I remain polite and counter by saying she must have misunderstood, perhaps confused what a girl character that remains human might be able to do an offer. I know discretion is the better part of valor here, as to truly argue would get me nowhere and my goal is to get us paid; if she gets “huffy’ and refuses to pay and walks off forget ever getting paid then. I think she’s getting frustrated at not winning, so she excuses herself to call the agent. To note, she had a cell phone with her I saw it, why did she need to step away? She goes back in, to the other side of the fenced yard, perhaps inside the house, but as to the house that I don’t know. She comes out in a few minutes and says the agent didn’t answer but she left a message. That was another lie, for I found out after the fact she left no message when I talked with the woman agent later.
Well, honestly, what we had here was a stalemate. I wasn’t going to give up and she wasn’t going to fully give in. Long story short, and this is where I say I “won”, she reduced her discounting demands and I reluctantly accepted them, knowing full well we were innocent of the charges. She had originally wanted to only pay us half of the agreed-upon amount, she settled for thirty dollars. She paid us in cash, as she was supposed to, and my friend and I got in my car and left.
Aah, but to add insult to injury, but sadly with no surprise to me, after the fact the agent never “backed us up” or paid us that lost thirty dollars. She got her deposit, what did she care, even though she FULLY supported that what the woman did was pure bull-bleep. She whined that she couldn’t do anything, but to write her a letter and threaten to take her to small claims court.
As noted above, yea, fat lot of good that would ever do. I’m sorry, but by the rules of fairness and decency here, given that she agreed we were totally blameless, that agent should've paid us the owed thirty...even if it did have to come out of her own pocket. We were TOTALLY innocent, we did our job with no mistakes, why SHOULDN'T we get our full pay? Well, her very simple and lame excuse was “I can’t do that”. No my dear, I thought but did not say, it's simply that you WON’T. But even if you and others don't, I have morals and ethics so I paid my friend in full and I took the financial sword of “eating” the thirty dollars. I did the right thing!
Semper Furry! --“Me Furry”
MY FURRY TALES--STORIES FROM 25 YEARS IN THE FUR #17
Posted 12 years ago“The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.” Part one of two.
(Or, it’s because of you we can’t have nice lives.)
Every character performer who makes this a career, or even those that might do it as a summer job as well, but for them to a much lesser extent, all of us know that it isn’t all sunshine and roses all the time. There will be a “party from Hell” you will have the sad misfortune of experiencing and the question only is when. This story I’m about to tell is mine. The story that will be told in part two is what you might call “the after party from Hell”. I shall explain.
First off, let me tell you that stereotypes, no matter what they are or who they involve are usually quite true and that is WHY they’re stereotypes as they are true. One stereotype that applies here in this incident is that money, even much money, education, even much education, doesn’t buy you one gram of “smarts”. Please trust me and believe me, there are rich “dim bulbs” as there are poor ones.
I am assigned to do a two-year-old girl’s birthday party in the Hollywood hills. It’s in a gated community off of Mulholland Drive and if you know the Southern California area, that means wealth. I find out after the fact that both husband and wife are lawyers and that this community is only of million dollar plus homes. And hey, based on what I saw while within it, make those mansions not ordinary homes.
As far as what started the sad incident, that was something that is, so sadly, very common itself. The world of TV kids is not and never was true reality, but so many parents must think that it is. This covers a lot of territory here, from character abilities, to sound and voice, the excitement and participation of the children, and last but not least, the virtual love and “approval” of the character. TV kids are actors and they are paid to be happy and exuberant, the TV characters at the very least have suits that are much more sophisticated than what can come to a home party and most of the time their voices are done in a separate voice over or by a off-stage vocal performer. “The guy in the suit”, in this case, IS just a guy in the suit.
The concerns here, in this case, are two. One, that the child, at two, is truly too young and two is just about the worst age for a clown or a character to have as an audience. The average character is, at the very least, six-feet tall and very likely more, up to seven to seven and a half feet in some character cases. Think people think, little small kid, great big character, duh! For this gig I was the purple dinosaur, but I assure you, that I have done so many parties where I have been “Hunny Bear” and who, I ask you who, could be less threatening that him? Well, a seven-foot “cuddly bear of fluff” CAN scare too, trust me; oh can you trust me.
The second concern is, and I’ll say it, the virtual stupidity of the mother doing what she did. She caused it, caused it all, and was the actual ‘trigger” of the event and all my woe after it. To paraphrase what I said earlier, money doesn’t buy brains.
I arrive and go to the backyard where the party is. I am on time, but as is not unusual, few are there. The mother holds the little birthday girl in her arms and there is another little girl, I’ve no idea of the relationship of the two children, but they do look to be of the same age or the one standing on the ground next to the mother’s legs could be just a little bit older.
Seeing the fear in both children, but the held birthday girl is most definitely the worse of the two, I just stand there a few feet away from her, intentionally doing nothing but saying “hi” and giving her a little wave.
They are standing in an open but covered patio area that looks like it’s a living room, including a huge big-screen TV. The moment the birthday girl sees me she’s afraid; the fear she has is obvious in both her eyes and face. As noted, for a two-year-old child, this is no surprise at all and in most cases for me if I just “hold back” I usually do win them over in the end one way or another. The results do vary widely of course, some kids never lose their fear at all, some go from fear to a lighter hesitation, some do a complete turnaround and fully accept the character and some, yes some, it’s happened to me, actually affectionately bond and then when it’s finally time to go you actually get a “please don’t go, stay” from the very child the was scared to death of you about an hour earlier.
As I’m doing this, two other young kids arrive to the back yard, both with their own nanny-housekeepers. Given the wealth that’s so abundant here, there’s also no surprise in that; been there and seen that many a time. The kids are a bit older, but not by much, I’d say they were either three or four years old themselves. And sadly, they show apprehension in seeing me as well. Oh “joy”.
Well, mother does, in MY opinion, the MOST stupid thing she could do. Her daughter is actually clutching onto her for her fear of me, I can so obviously see that. But what does the mother do? She “shoves” her daughter, while being held in her arms, into me. The little girl screams and goes into true hysterics, no lie. You would’ve thought she was being beaten by the screams she made. I now see a look of frustration on the mother’s face and she takes her daughter into the house and I’m 99% certain that she’s clueless as to what she just did. I never hear her say it, but I’ve heard it said at “a million” other parties I’ve done, “…but you love him/her on TV?”
It’s a complete and total domino effect that happens. The child that was standing by the mother bursts into tears now as do both of the just brought in kids; I’m “screwed” and I know it. Not three minutes into my scheduled two hours there and I’m certain I’ve just lost my audience. I was right, but it got worse; “lucky” me. For in the next few minutes four other boys show up, but they’re of the eight or nine year old range and they all think the purple dinosaur is a jerk and want absolutely nothing to do with me. So here's my situation, four little kids, including the birthday girl, who are now terrified of me and four older boys who could care less of me. As I’m “suffering in my misery” under the fur, I do think to myself that AT LEAST, with the whole thing, the whole party, being professionally videotaped from beginning to end, I’ll have both proof and vindication of what I’ve just suffered.
Long story short, for the party itself, I tried, oh how I tried, but the little kids wouldn’t let me go near them at all and the boys wouldn’t do anything at all with me to both play and help out. I had all my activity stuff with me as I always do, a “parachute”, long jump rope mainly for limbo but could be used in a tug of war game, bubble buckets, my magic coloring book and I could always do participation game with them like ring-around-the rosy, duck-duck-goose and so on. They’d jump on a jump that was brought there or swing on a swing set that’s part of the back yard, but do anything with me, nada. I did always stay nearby them and didn’t give up as such. For what good it was doing me I could’ve just sat down in a corner or have just up and left, but I was hoping against hope that time would turn out to be my ally here; it didn’t.
Finally, with about twenty minutes left to the two hours, the kids are sat down and the birthday cake is brought out, “Happy Birthday’ is sung and the cake is served. The mother, in a very matter-of-fact tone of voice says that I can go now. I do politely question her, only to say back that my scheduled time isn’t up yet, but she repeats it’s all right to go. I do then and I know “in my bones”, I’m gonna get a after the fact phone call from the lady agent about this.
Yep, sure do, but I get no understanding over it only intense anger. “How could I just stand there and do nothing? I’m a professional, I do something!” I am actually fired right there over the phone in a Donald Trump like “You’re fired!” I try to explain, but she wasn’t interested in explanations; in her made-up mind “there was no excuse”. This so hurt me as I’d been with her for many years and always did an excellent job. Come on folks, you can’t please all of the people all of the time and I would think a long-established track record of successes and even many, many compliments would count for something, but not obviously with her. I told of the videographer and for her to please just take a look at that, it would show and tell it all, but she wasn’t interested in that either. She wasn’t my only “agent”, so I did still work of course, but I know I lost many parties for this. I would say, on average, I did a couple of parties for her a month. However, I can and will say that what hurt me more was the combination of the shabby and disrespectful treatment she gave me and of not being believed. Again, “a million” good shows, one “bad” and I’m trash, it’s not right; not right at all.
Well, we have nothing to do with each other for a bit more than six months. Then one day the phone rings at my apartment and it’s her calling. She’s FINALLY seen the video and is apologizing. A very “apology light” apology in my own humble opinion and nothing at all is said or done by her to make up for any of her discourteousness to me. But, all-in-all, “all is forgiven” and I go back to work for her. I did then and I still do now, hold my furry head up very high in complete, total and certain knowledge that I both did the very best I could that day as well as that it WAS the right thing to do at the same time. A life in the fur is a wonderful thing, a blessed thing to me at least, but there is a “dark side”. This incident was ever so sadly one of those.
Semper Furry! --“Me Furry"
(Or, it’s because of you we can’t have nice lives.)
Every character performer who makes this a career, or even those that might do it as a summer job as well, but for them to a much lesser extent, all of us know that it isn’t all sunshine and roses all the time. There will be a “party from Hell” you will have the sad misfortune of experiencing and the question only is when. This story I’m about to tell is mine. The story that will be told in part two is what you might call “the after party from Hell”. I shall explain.
First off, let me tell you that stereotypes, no matter what they are or who they involve are usually quite true and that is WHY they’re stereotypes as they are true. One stereotype that applies here in this incident is that money, even much money, education, even much education, doesn’t buy you one gram of “smarts”. Please trust me and believe me, there are rich “dim bulbs” as there are poor ones.
I am assigned to do a two-year-old girl’s birthday party in the Hollywood hills. It’s in a gated community off of Mulholland Drive and if you know the Southern California area, that means wealth. I find out after the fact that both husband and wife are lawyers and that this community is only of million dollar plus homes. And hey, based on what I saw while within it, make those mansions not ordinary homes.
As far as what started the sad incident, that was something that is, so sadly, very common itself. The world of TV kids is not and never was true reality, but so many parents must think that it is. This covers a lot of territory here, from character abilities, to sound and voice, the excitement and participation of the children, and last but not least, the virtual love and “approval” of the character. TV kids are actors and they are paid to be happy and exuberant, the TV characters at the very least have suits that are much more sophisticated than what can come to a home party and most of the time their voices are done in a separate voice over or by a off-stage vocal performer. “The guy in the suit”, in this case, IS just a guy in the suit.
The concerns here, in this case, are two. One, that the child, at two, is truly too young and two is just about the worst age for a clown or a character to have as an audience. The average character is, at the very least, six-feet tall and very likely more, up to seven to seven and a half feet in some character cases. Think people think, little small kid, great big character, duh! For this gig I was the purple dinosaur, but I assure you, that I have done so many parties where I have been “Hunny Bear” and who, I ask you who, could be less threatening that him? Well, a seven-foot “cuddly bear of fluff” CAN scare too, trust me; oh can you trust me.
The second concern is, and I’ll say it, the virtual stupidity of the mother doing what she did. She caused it, caused it all, and was the actual ‘trigger” of the event and all my woe after it. To paraphrase what I said earlier, money doesn’t buy brains.
I arrive and go to the backyard where the party is. I am on time, but as is not unusual, few are there. The mother holds the little birthday girl in her arms and there is another little girl, I’ve no idea of the relationship of the two children, but they do look to be of the same age or the one standing on the ground next to the mother’s legs could be just a little bit older.
Seeing the fear in both children, but the held birthday girl is most definitely the worse of the two, I just stand there a few feet away from her, intentionally doing nothing but saying “hi” and giving her a little wave.
They are standing in an open but covered patio area that looks like it’s a living room, including a huge big-screen TV. The moment the birthday girl sees me she’s afraid; the fear she has is obvious in both her eyes and face. As noted, for a two-year-old child, this is no surprise at all and in most cases for me if I just “hold back” I usually do win them over in the end one way or another. The results do vary widely of course, some kids never lose their fear at all, some go from fear to a lighter hesitation, some do a complete turnaround and fully accept the character and some, yes some, it’s happened to me, actually affectionately bond and then when it’s finally time to go you actually get a “please don’t go, stay” from the very child the was scared to death of you about an hour earlier.
As I’m doing this, two other young kids arrive to the back yard, both with their own nanny-housekeepers. Given the wealth that’s so abundant here, there’s also no surprise in that; been there and seen that many a time. The kids are a bit older, but not by much, I’d say they were either three or four years old themselves. And sadly, they show apprehension in seeing me as well. Oh “joy”.
Well, mother does, in MY opinion, the MOST stupid thing she could do. Her daughter is actually clutching onto her for her fear of me, I can so obviously see that. But what does the mother do? She “shoves” her daughter, while being held in her arms, into me. The little girl screams and goes into true hysterics, no lie. You would’ve thought she was being beaten by the screams she made. I now see a look of frustration on the mother’s face and she takes her daughter into the house and I’m 99% certain that she’s clueless as to what she just did. I never hear her say it, but I’ve heard it said at “a million” other parties I’ve done, “…but you love him/her on TV?”
It’s a complete and total domino effect that happens. The child that was standing by the mother bursts into tears now as do both of the just brought in kids; I’m “screwed” and I know it. Not three minutes into my scheduled two hours there and I’m certain I’ve just lost my audience. I was right, but it got worse; “lucky” me. For in the next few minutes four other boys show up, but they’re of the eight or nine year old range and they all think the purple dinosaur is a jerk and want absolutely nothing to do with me. So here's my situation, four little kids, including the birthday girl, who are now terrified of me and four older boys who could care less of me. As I’m “suffering in my misery” under the fur, I do think to myself that AT LEAST, with the whole thing, the whole party, being professionally videotaped from beginning to end, I’ll have both proof and vindication of what I’ve just suffered.
Long story short, for the party itself, I tried, oh how I tried, but the little kids wouldn’t let me go near them at all and the boys wouldn’t do anything at all with me to both play and help out. I had all my activity stuff with me as I always do, a “parachute”, long jump rope mainly for limbo but could be used in a tug of war game, bubble buckets, my magic coloring book and I could always do participation game with them like ring-around-the rosy, duck-duck-goose and so on. They’d jump on a jump that was brought there or swing on a swing set that’s part of the back yard, but do anything with me, nada. I did always stay nearby them and didn’t give up as such. For what good it was doing me I could’ve just sat down in a corner or have just up and left, but I was hoping against hope that time would turn out to be my ally here; it didn’t.
Finally, with about twenty minutes left to the two hours, the kids are sat down and the birthday cake is brought out, “Happy Birthday’ is sung and the cake is served. The mother, in a very matter-of-fact tone of voice says that I can go now. I do politely question her, only to say back that my scheduled time isn’t up yet, but she repeats it’s all right to go. I do then and I know “in my bones”, I’m gonna get a after the fact phone call from the lady agent about this.
Yep, sure do, but I get no understanding over it only intense anger. “How could I just stand there and do nothing? I’m a professional, I do something!” I am actually fired right there over the phone in a Donald Trump like “You’re fired!” I try to explain, but she wasn’t interested in explanations; in her made-up mind “there was no excuse”. This so hurt me as I’d been with her for many years and always did an excellent job. Come on folks, you can’t please all of the people all of the time and I would think a long-established track record of successes and even many, many compliments would count for something, but not obviously with her. I told of the videographer and for her to please just take a look at that, it would show and tell it all, but she wasn’t interested in that either. She wasn’t my only “agent”, so I did still work of course, but I know I lost many parties for this. I would say, on average, I did a couple of parties for her a month. However, I can and will say that what hurt me more was the combination of the shabby and disrespectful treatment she gave me and of not being believed. Again, “a million” good shows, one “bad” and I’m trash, it’s not right; not right at all.
Well, we have nothing to do with each other for a bit more than six months. Then one day the phone rings at my apartment and it’s her calling. She’s FINALLY seen the video and is apologizing. A very “apology light” apology in my own humble opinion and nothing at all is said or done by her to make up for any of her discourteousness to me. But, all-in-all, “all is forgiven” and I go back to work for her. I did then and I still do now, hold my furry head up very high in complete, total and certain knowledge that I both did the very best I could that day as well as that it WAS the right thing to do at the same time. A life in the fur is a wonderful thing, a blessed thing to me at least, but there is a “dark side”. This incident was ever so sadly one of those.
Semper Furry! --“Me Furry"
MY FURRY TALES--STORIES FROM 25 YEARS IN THE FUR #16
Posted 12 years agoIn the nature of the way kid’s birthday parties work you almost always are a one-shot affair for that one party only as kids, both because of age and tastes, usually change who their favorite character is. In regards to the age factor, you know you’re going to have the little kid characters asked for such as the purple dinosaur, the red monster or that big yellow bird from Sesame Street, a very famous yellow teddy bear that loves honey to an obsession or perhaps one of his furry pals. Those characters aren’t the only ones of course, but they are part of my character repertoire. There are always hot-at-the-moment characters from current TV shows or movies that have what you would call a limited performance lifespans; fame is fickle you know and that goes for live-action and cartoon characters as well. Some come and go quickly, while others have moderate staying power and some really hang in there.
There are also the characters that carry over from year to year and “crossover” from the little kid set, two, three, four-year old parties and are what you might say classic and never going out of style. Hunny Bear and his friends are a perfect example of this as is Scooby Doo. In fact, for them in particular, they’re never grown out of in so many cases. As I related in my story of the camera stolen at her boy’s birthday party, mom was as big a fan or bigger of the lovable Great Dane than was her son even though it had been his wish and want to have him to come to his party.
It has happened to me, as it’s happened to most character performers that do this year-after-year-after-year that, on occasion, you might ‘get lucky” and get requested again for a repeat performance the next year as the same character, or possibly, if you do multiple characters like I do, a different character than the one you did. But there are two characters that are virtually timeless for all, that one never grows too old for if you believe; Santa and the Easter Bunny. For this little furry tale, I want to share with you a sixteen year family relationship Santa had.
In April of 1993 I moved up to the San Gabriel Valley in the Los Angeles area to better my year-round character work. I had previously been living in San Diego County from my humble start of doing them back in the 1986 Christmas season. But because of my newness there and the long-standing relationship with a performing couple that I had down in San Diego, I opted to do go back down there and help out a couple of times.
I had a seven am gig down there on Christmas Day and then had a gig scheduled in Hacienda Heights back up in the San Gabriel valley at three o'clock.
That gig was a two family Christmas gathering at a “Coco’s” restaurant, but when some cousins were added to the two large families I ended up with a number of thirty kids!
A couple of adults were watching for Santa out in the parking lot so they could help him put all of the needed toys and gifts into his bag. With good humor and not saying anything out loud Santa definitely felt much like a pack mule. But with some help from those two adults, all the toys were somehow carried in and the party was marvelous, a ten out of ten experience for all including Santa.
Well, it turns out the two families are blood related and that first party turned into a mini career within a career. One family only did a Christmas party every other year, but the other one did one every year. For the years of the other family having their parties Santa would visit both families. To note, they both did Christmas Day parties, but the family that did the every other year rotation had theirs in the late afternoon, like three o’clock or thereabouts while the every year family always had theirs at seven in the evening.
Those large families and wide variety of ages in the kids are what gave me my career here. As the older ones “lost interest” I still had many, many young ones who still eagerly awaited Santa’s Christmas Day or Christmas Night visit. Truly and no lie, I became a tradition in and at both houses. Though just to simply note it, I never did have another restaurant party from them other than that one where I met them all. But of the two families, the one that I did every year at seven pm became ever so close to me and me to them; even to the point of Santa doing a few extra things to make the special even more special.
Not too long after our visit tradition began, one of the then little girls at the time showed Santa what she had made in school, a macaroni picture book with color pictures she drew and colored in. It was a cow variation of “The Night Before Christmas”. Santa loved it as Santa does like cows and he happily read it out loud to all. It became a tradition within a tradition and would be brought out and reread for several years after that first reading as well. Well, Santa is all about gifts right? And always, if it’s at all possible, gifts that will be considered so very special to whom they are given. So Santa gets the brainstorm of what to add to his delivery next year, specially made cow Christmas stockings! He has his elves make up five stockings using both black and white and brown and white cow print fake fur for the stocking bodies and then some very nice medium plush white fur for the stocking cuffs. Come the next Christmas they were a hit! Santa delivered them on his Christmas Eve rounds and they were happily brought out in hand to show him when he came back on Christmas Night.
Then, not the next year, but a couple of years later, Santa again made a “special delivery” while on his Christmas Eve rounds and left a real wicker basket filled with stuffed-toy plush puppies for each of the kids on their front porch. Santa happened to come by while the family was away and Santa thought that this little “accident”, would actually end up working to his advantage. Imagine the happy and surprised faces when they see a basket full of puppies on their doorstep when they come back from wherever they’ve been! They do not see him, but just as Santa’s leaving in his sleigh, here comes the family in their car up the street! Santa’s imagining what happening as he rides along continuing his deliveries.
Like what happened with the cow stockings, the plush puppies are held in hand by each of the kids when they come to greet Santa the next night, Christmas Night, and they’re never let go of for the entire time of his one hour visit. Dad takes many pictures that night, just as he always did every year, but one he tells Santa later when they talk outside for a few moments after his visit is done but before he’s yet to go, was truly the perfect “Kodak moment”. He said he will treasure that picture for the rest of his life. Santa’s sitting in the chair they always gave him to sit in, the two youngest girls are half-sitting on his lap and the respective arms of the chair, plush puppies in hand and the two older kids are sitting on the floor right at his feet, also with their puppies in hand listening to Santa read “The Night before Christmas” to them.
“Santa, really, that is what it’s all about. Tonight was perfection, pure perfection. I don’t think we can ever top that or tonight, thank you.” Dad says.
“I do agree, but we can always try…after all I AM Santa. See you next year…Merry Christmas!” Santa replies and then he starts walking back to his sleigh which is parked just down the road a bit.
Semper Furry! --Me Furry
There are also the characters that carry over from year to year and “crossover” from the little kid set, two, three, four-year old parties and are what you might say classic and never going out of style. Hunny Bear and his friends are a perfect example of this as is Scooby Doo. In fact, for them in particular, they’re never grown out of in so many cases. As I related in my story of the camera stolen at her boy’s birthday party, mom was as big a fan or bigger of the lovable Great Dane than was her son even though it had been his wish and want to have him to come to his party.
It has happened to me, as it’s happened to most character performers that do this year-after-year-after-year that, on occasion, you might ‘get lucky” and get requested again for a repeat performance the next year as the same character, or possibly, if you do multiple characters like I do, a different character than the one you did. But there are two characters that are virtually timeless for all, that one never grows too old for if you believe; Santa and the Easter Bunny. For this little furry tale, I want to share with you a sixteen year family relationship Santa had.
In April of 1993 I moved up to the San Gabriel Valley in the Los Angeles area to better my year-round character work. I had previously been living in San Diego County from my humble start of doing them back in the 1986 Christmas season. But because of my newness there and the long-standing relationship with a performing couple that I had down in San Diego, I opted to do go back down there and help out a couple of times.
I had a seven am gig down there on Christmas Day and then had a gig scheduled in Hacienda Heights back up in the San Gabriel valley at three o'clock.
That gig was a two family Christmas gathering at a “Coco’s” restaurant, but when some cousins were added to the two large families I ended up with a number of thirty kids!
A couple of adults were watching for Santa out in the parking lot so they could help him put all of the needed toys and gifts into his bag. With good humor and not saying anything out loud Santa definitely felt much like a pack mule. But with some help from those two adults, all the toys were somehow carried in and the party was marvelous, a ten out of ten experience for all including Santa.
Well, it turns out the two families are blood related and that first party turned into a mini career within a career. One family only did a Christmas party every other year, but the other one did one every year. For the years of the other family having their parties Santa would visit both families. To note, they both did Christmas Day parties, but the family that did the every other year rotation had theirs in the late afternoon, like three o’clock or thereabouts while the every year family always had theirs at seven in the evening.
Those large families and wide variety of ages in the kids are what gave me my career here. As the older ones “lost interest” I still had many, many young ones who still eagerly awaited Santa’s Christmas Day or Christmas Night visit. Truly and no lie, I became a tradition in and at both houses. Though just to simply note it, I never did have another restaurant party from them other than that one where I met them all. But of the two families, the one that I did every year at seven pm became ever so close to me and me to them; even to the point of Santa doing a few extra things to make the special even more special.
Not too long after our visit tradition began, one of the then little girls at the time showed Santa what she had made in school, a macaroni picture book with color pictures she drew and colored in. It was a cow variation of “The Night Before Christmas”. Santa loved it as Santa does like cows and he happily read it out loud to all. It became a tradition within a tradition and would be brought out and reread for several years after that first reading as well. Well, Santa is all about gifts right? And always, if it’s at all possible, gifts that will be considered so very special to whom they are given. So Santa gets the brainstorm of what to add to his delivery next year, specially made cow Christmas stockings! He has his elves make up five stockings using both black and white and brown and white cow print fake fur for the stocking bodies and then some very nice medium plush white fur for the stocking cuffs. Come the next Christmas they were a hit! Santa delivered them on his Christmas Eve rounds and they were happily brought out in hand to show him when he came back on Christmas Night.
Then, not the next year, but a couple of years later, Santa again made a “special delivery” while on his Christmas Eve rounds and left a real wicker basket filled with stuffed-toy plush puppies for each of the kids on their front porch. Santa happened to come by while the family was away and Santa thought that this little “accident”, would actually end up working to his advantage. Imagine the happy and surprised faces when they see a basket full of puppies on their doorstep when they come back from wherever they’ve been! They do not see him, but just as Santa’s leaving in his sleigh, here comes the family in their car up the street! Santa’s imagining what happening as he rides along continuing his deliveries.
Like what happened with the cow stockings, the plush puppies are held in hand by each of the kids when they come to greet Santa the next night, Christmas Night, and they’re never let go of for the entire time of his one hour visit. Dad takes many pictures that night, just as he always did every year, but one he tells Santa later when they talk outside for a few moments after his visit is done but before he’s yet to go, was truly the perfect “Kodak moment”. He said he will treasure that picture for the rest of his life. Santa’s sitting in the chair they always gave him to sit in, the two youngest girls are half-sitting on his lap and the respective arms of the chair, plush puppies in hand and the two older kids are sitting on the floor right at his feet, also with their puppies in hand listening to Santa read “The Night before Christmas” to them.
“Santa, really, that is what it’s all about. Tonight was perfection, pure perfection. I don’t think we can ever top that or tonight, thank you.” Dad says.
“I do agree, but we can always try…after all I AM Santa. See you next year…Merry Christmas!” Santa replies and then he starts walking back to his sleigh which is parked just down the road a bit.
Semper Furry! --Me Furry
Revisions & repaging of bks 1 & 2 of "It's A Furries' Life"!
Posted 13 years agoIn the immortal words of any writer who has ever written a serious work, “Hmmm, I think I can write that better.” It IS true that in the passage of time, things can look “fresh” again and this has happened to me here. It’s been a couple of years since it was completed and about a year since I went back and added the chapter headings, February 25th, 2011. That took a bit of time and effort as it wasn’t as simple as dropping them in. I had to place them logically. It did involve some minor rewrite adjustments but nothing truly major.
I did that, reposted it here to FA and it’s been “sitting here” since. Because I knew it would take some time to do, I did not do one other thing at that time and that was to re-page the book into a “normal” book page format. That means fewer words on each page and when I did that the book jumped from 799 pages to 1,021; WHOOT! This was my main intention at coming back to the book this time, but when I saw the dramatic difference in the amount of pages I knew I was in for a long effort to fit it into the new page size. So I decided that I would just “bite the bullet” and go through and review the entire book as I did my re-paging
Every page, from first to last has been reread. Nearly every page has had some adjustment done to it. Many pages of new dialog have been added and some relatively small bits have been removed. A lot of the minor modifications are things related to speech. Having done four novels in the series and I was just starting book five when I decided to suspend doing that in favor of doing this, the characters have fixed speech patterns now and I’ve done a lot of retroactive “matching” so that they “sound the same in all five books. It’s a minor thing in one way, but I feel a very important thing from a continuity standpoint.
Another great advantage of going back so long after the fact and after one has written several more books are that you now know “things in the future”. I have added a good amount of new scenes here and there that “hint” or lightly touch upon the different things to come in the future books. And, at the same time, now knowing the future, I could expand some scenes in knowing better motivations and reasons behind the character’s thoughts or actions. I would say, because I haven’t actually kept a “running total”, that about twenty pages total of new dialog has been added throughout the entire novel.
I so humbly both thank you and apologize at the same time for “causing” you to have to download and reread this again. But I assure you it is well worth it, the story, in sum total, remains the same. There’s not one sudden plot twist or change that has been done. However, at the same time, the book has been majorly altered from its original incarnation and I take and accept full responsibility for that. It’s now grown, with the combination of the re-paging and the added material to a final total of 1,009 pages!
Is this effort worthy of comparison to either Shakespeare or Dickens? Most likely “A Furries’ Life” will fall a bit short. But still, reading and writing was always my strongest and most enjoyed subjects in school and I know of both my talents and abilities. Yes, as the author, OF COURSE I’m biased, but I know enough about writing to know this ain’t lion poop.
So start anew with book one and then move on and through books two, three and four. Now that I’ve done this, it’s back to writing book five and quite likely at least a book six. After that…”we’ll see”.
As always and forever,
“SEMPER FURRY”
Henry A. Smith
Noting the reposting here of A Furries’ Life Book Two in a revised normal page layout. Like book one it was originally written on a larger page format to put more on each page, but upon second thought on it I’ve decided to go with the standard page sizing of footers and headers. The book has therefore grown by many pages for simply doing that, but it remains basically the same in content. For book two there are no real major additions or subtractions, only a few instances where I’ve either added or taken away a bit. It does amount to a few additional pages in total, but in both cases the amount is minimal.
Mostly, here in book two’s case, I’ve done continuity work on speech patterns mainly. With many of the characters using “abbreviated” English, in quick and partial example, da’, an’, ov’a, ‘em and so on, if a character says a certain word a certain way they should always say that word in that same way. Being it takes more than a year to write each book, one can forget those speech nuances past the obvious always used common words. So first the re-paging effort was done here then I went through the whole book to catch my occasional mistakes of not abbreviating some words all of the time. Yes, ‘tis a small thing in one way and quite likely close to inconsequential for most who might read this. But though many might never notice, I would and for me that is reason enough.
Do trust me, a good writer spends just about the same amount of time editing and proofing as they do actually writing their stories. No matter how well you think you write something that very first time, after working onward and then coming back to look at it again a few days or a few weeks later it gives you those proverbial fresh eyes to see it with anew. AND, as good as you are, as careful as you are you’re guaranteed to find mistakes. Or, if not an actual mistake, surely you’ll find that you now realize that a certain sentence, paragraph or perhaps even a whole passage can be “said” better and so that’s what you do…you say it better.
I’m ever so proud of what I’ve done here. Not ever saying it’s absolutely perfect in each and every way, I’d never seem that arrogant to ever say that, but I know what I’ve done is good and very good indeed. As a parent is naturally proud of their good child, I’m as proud of my good work. Please, please enjoy it; truly, my heart and soul have gone into it. I think you will…
Always and forever,
"SEMPER FURRY!"
Henry A. Smith
I did that, reposted it here to FA and it’s been “sitting here” since. Because I knew it would take some time to do, I did not do one other thing at that time and that was to re-page the book into a “normal” book page format. That means fewer words on each page and when I did that the book jumped from 799 pages to 1,021; WHOOT! This was my main intention at coming back to the book this time, but when I saw the dramatic difference in the amount of pages I knew I was in for a long effort to fit it into the new page size. So I decided that I would just “bite the bullet” and go through and review the entire book as I did my re-paging
Every page, from first to last has been reread. Nearly every page has had some adjustment done to it. Many pages of new dialog have been added and some relatively small bits have been removed. A lot of the minor modifications are things related to speech. Having done four novels in the series and I was just starting book five when I decided to suspend doing that in favor of doing this, the characters have fixed speech patterns now and I’ve done a lot of retroactive “matching” so that they “sound the same in all five books. It’s a minor thing in one way, but I feel a very important thing from a continuity standpoint.
Another great advantage of going back so long after the fact and after one has written several more books are that you now know “things in the future”. I have added a good amount of new scenes here and there that “hint” or lightly touch upon the different things to come in the future books. And, at the same time, now knowing the future, I could expand some scenes in knowing better motivations and reasons behind the character’s thoughts or actions. I would say, because I haven’t actually kept a “running total”, that about twenty pages total of new dialog has been added throughout the entire novel.
I so humbly both thank you and apologize at the same time for “causing” you to have to download and reread this again. But I assure you it is well worth it, the story, in sum total, remains the same. There’s not one sudden plot twist or change that has been done. However, at the same time, the book has been majorly altered from its original incarnation and I take and accept full responsibility for that. It’s now grown, with the combination of the re-paging and the added material to a final total of 1,009 pages!
Is this effort worthy of comparison to either Shakespeare or Dickens? Most likely “A Furries’ Life” will fall a bit short. But still, reading and writing was always my strongest and most enjoyed subjects in school and I know of both my talents and abilities. Yes, as the author, OF COURSE I’m biased, but I know enough about writing to know this ain’t lion poop.
So start anew with book one and then move on and through books two, three and four. Now that I’ve done this, it’s back to writing book five and quite likely at least a book six. After that…”we’ll see”.
As always and forever,
“SEMPER FURRY”
Henry A. Smith
Noting the reposting here of A Furries’ Life Book Two in a revised normal page layout. Like book one it was originally written on a larger page format to put more on each page, but upon second thought on it I’ve decided to go with the standard page sizing of footers and headers. The book has therefore grown by many pages for simply doing that, but it remains basically the same in content. For book two there are no real major additions or subtractions, only a few instances where I’ve either added or taken away a bit. It does amount to a few additional pages in total, but in both cases the amount is minimal.
Mostly, here in book two’s case, I’ve done continuity work on speech patterns mainly. With many of the characters using “abbreviated” English, in quick and partial example, da’, an’, ov’a, ‘em and so on, if a character says a certain word a certain way they should always say that word in that same way. Being it takes more than a year to write each book, one can forget those speech nuances past the obvious always used common words. So first the re-paging effort was done here then I went through the whole book to catch my occasional mistakes of not abbreviating some words all of the time. Yes, ‘tis a small thing in one way and quite likely close to inconsequential for most who might read this. But though many might never notice, I would and for me that is reason enough.
Do trust me, a good writer spends just about the same amount of time editing and proofing as they do actually writing their stories. No matter how well you think you write something that very first time, after working onward and then coming back to look at it again a few days or a few weeks later it gives you those proverbial fresh eyes to see it with anew. AND, as good as you are, as careful as you are you’re guaranteed to find mistakes. Or, if not an actual mistake, surely you’ll find that you now realize that a certain sentence, paragraph or perhaps even a whole passage can be “said” better and so that’s what you do…you say it better.
I’m ever so proud of what I’ve done here. Not ever saying it’s absolutely perfect in each and every way, I’d never seem that arrogant to ever say that, but I know what I’ve done is good and very good indeed. As a parent is naturally proud of their good child, I’m as proud of my good work. Please, please enjoy it; truly, my heart and soul have gone into it. I think you will…
Always and forever,
"SEMPER FURRY!"
Henry A. Smith
Lion agrees with these thoughts but don't know who wrote it
Posted 14 years agoTWO FRIENDS WERE WALKING
THROUGH THE DESERT
DURING SOME POINT OF THE
JOURNEY, THEY HAD AN
ARGUMENT; AND ONE FRIEND
SLAPPED THE OTHER ONE
IN THE FACE
THE ONE WHO GOT SLAPPED
WAS HURT, BUT WITHOUT
SAYING ANYTHING,
WROTE IN THE SAND
THEY KEPT ON WALKING,
UNTIL THEY FOUND AN OASIS,
WHERE THEY DECIDED
TO TAKE A BATH
THE ONE WHO HAD BEEN
SLAPPED GOT STUCK IN THE
MIRE! AND STARTED DROWNING,
BUT THE FRIEND SAVED HIM.
AFTER HE RECOVERED FROM
THE NEAR DROWNING,
HE WROTE ON A STONE:
'TODAY MY BEST FRIEND
SAVED MY LIFE'
THE FRIEND WHO HAD SLAPPED
AND SAVED HIS BEST FRIEND
ASKED HIM, 'AFTER I HURT YOU,
YOU WROTE IN THE SAND AND NOW,
YOU WRITE WHAT YOU DID ON A STONE, WHY?'
THE FRIEND REPLIED
'WHEN SOMEONE HURTS US
WE SHOULD WRITE IT DOWN
IN SAND, WHERE WINDS OF
FORGIVENESS CAN ERASE IT AWAY.
BUT, WHEN SOMEONE DOES
SOMETHING GOOD FOR US,
WE MUST ENGRAVE IT IN STONE
WHERE NO WIND
CAN EVER ERASE IT'
LEARN TO WRITE
YOUR HURTS IN
THE SAND AND TO
CARVE YOUR
BENEFITS IN STONE.
THEY SAY IT TAKES A
MINUTE TO FIND A SPECIAL
PERSON, AN HOUR TO
APPRECIATE THEM
A DAY TO LOVE THEM,
BUT THEN
AN ENTIRE LIFE TO FORGET THEM.
Finally, some good to happen!
Posted 14 years agoYes, I fully admit that my last few journals have been on the "down" side, but that has been the way the lion's life has been going. But, something happened yesterday that was 100%, no qualifications, good news and a good event to happen to the white lion.
When I applied in mid-June to the apartment complex that we're now living at they were having a raffle drawing. You could place in one entry when you were there applying and then put in a second one if you were approved for residency. Obviously, we were approved, so on the day we signed the lease, June 24th, I put in the second one. I don't ever win anything so I honestly felt it a futile effort but it was painless and as it's said, "hope springs eternal".
Well, went to pay the rent yesterday on the first and the head lady comes out of her office with a little envelope in her hands. "I have some good news for you Henry, you won the raffle." You could have knocked me over with a feather! Not to mention picking my jaw off the floor. The prize is a $200 dollar Visa gift card.
A little aside, for what it's worth, the forms for the apply entries were on green paper, the new resident ones where on white. The one of mine that got drawn was the white one. Who cares really, I won, but I do say it to note if nothing else.
It is so needed. I went right out to spend most of it on groceries for all of us in our little family. Now, I won't deny that I had a momentary selfish thought enter my mind. I'd have so loved to have "blown it away" of something like a stuffie for me being it was "found" money. But being the white lion I am, I thought of the family's needs and knew, though I had every "right' to do with it what I wanted, that using it for all was "the right thing to do".
Dare I hope, dare I imagine, dare I pray that this MIGHT be the beginning of good things once again? I sure hope so. But if not, well, I'll most certainly accept one-time-only single good events too.
"Semper furry!"
When I applied in mid-June to the apartment complex that we're now living at they were having a raffle drawing. You could place in one entry when you were there applying and then put in a second one if you were approved for residency. Obviously, we were approved, so on the day we signed the lease, June 24th, I put in the second one. I don't ever win anything so I honestly felt it a futile effort but it was painless and as it's said, "hope springs eternal".
Well, went to pay the rent yesterday on the first and the head lady comes out of her office with a little envelope in her hands. "I have some good news for you Henry, you won the raffle." You could have knocked me over with a feather! Not to mention picking my jaw off the floor. The prize is a $200 dollar Visa gift card.
A little aside, for what it's worth, the forms for the apply entries were on green paper, the new resident ones where on white. The one of mine that got drawn was the white one. Who cares really, I won, but I do say it to note if nothing else.
It is so needed. I went right out to spend most of it on groceries for all of us in our little family. Now, I won't deny that I had a momentary selfish thought enter my mind. I'd have so loved to have "blown it away" of something like a stuffie for me being it was "found" money. But being the white lion I am, I thought of the family's needs and knew, though I had every "right' to do with it what I wanted, that using it for all was "the right thing to do".
Dare I hope, dare I imagine, dare I pray that this MIGHT be the beginning of good things once again? I sure hope so. But if not, well, I'll most certainly accept one-time-only single good events too.
"Semper furry!"
A GENTLE RANT (A SOFT DENNIS MILLER KIND OF THING)
Posted 14 years agoA white lion’s observations on the way things are, in the world, in his fursonal life. Sit back, as this is going to be a moderately long journal.
Literally, for over two years now, this lion has been going through foo after foo after foo. It never ends. If I receive any small joy whatsoever, it is immediately cancelled out by some sort of foo happening to kill and take away that momentary joy. This just happened to me most recently on Friday, the 24th of June. Am I paying for being a bad lion in a previous life? Sure don’t know, but sure seems like it.
Well, anyway, to restate the obvious if you know me, I am a 59 year old “old farty lion”, a greymuzzle in the furry vernacular description. So, yes, I am pretty much old school in many ways. I fully admit that I am not naïve to the way the world is, but I keep hoping for better and keep getting so sorely disappointed, both in general and in my own fursonal life. The old saying of our, society, country, world “going to hell in a hand-basket” seems truer than it ever was to me. We now live in a society, that “we” created over my lifetime, say from about the 1960’s on, that has most (not yet all thank goodness) that thinks only of themselves. Yes, “me first” has been there since time began, I do know that. But, it has reached a nadir and zenith of Mount Everest sized proportions. Here’s a rundown on different principles I see lacking if not completely absent in so many…
Honor and integrity, one’s good name:
One should care and “give a damn” about what they do and say and what others say about them. If you cannot be trusted on and relied upon you’re a poor furson indeed. As what just happened to me a few weeks ago, I was a victim of a scandalous lie upon my character. I was in no way what I was thought to be and I “fought back” and did so hard. Some said that I shouldn’t let it get to me so, that they knew it wasn’t true and I knew that it wasn’t, so, in effect, don’t stress so over it. I just could not do that and would not do that ever. That was my good name beaten and sullied and I was not just going to take it. Through my persistence, I got it finally resolved and got my good name back, but I never got an apology from the person who wronged me, even though I now had written and absolute proof that what had been thought was a lie. That ties into another thing I need to comment on next.
Taking responsibility for what you do and say, good bad or indifferent:
Again this lion is not naïve and knows very well the old axiom of “talk is cheap”. Have the honor and integrity to stand up for things, what you believe in, or, as well, for or against someone or something that you think is wrong. But, ALSO have the honor and integrity to admit when you do find out or are proven that you are wrong. Do not underestimate the power of the words “I’m sorry”, they can so make a difference and cause a bitter or even hateful heart to possibly begin to heal. Now, depending on the situation, the words may be pitifully inadequate. In an exaggerated example, if you go and murder someone, a million “I’m sorry’s” ain’t gonn’a get you out of that one in actual fact. That involves repentance, but I won’t “go there” here. But for most cases, if you either find yourself wrong or proven wrong, “be a man” and admit it and AT THE VERY LEAST say I’m sorry. Most folks seem to have lost this in both the concept of it and of the actual practice of it in today’s society. I will say though, just touching upon the subject of repentance, that, at least for me, if you’ll at least take that small “step”, that does mean a lot and that can start to build a bridge of forgiveness for even quite agregious wrongs.
This equally applies to how you live your life. Your actions have and create consequences! If you don’t think that or believe that I honestly pity you as much as I also truly fear you. Yes, WE all make our share of good decisions and bad decisions, of course. None but the Higher Power above is perfect. Or, we make a decision that we thought was a good one at the time, but it ends up souring into something bad instead. If that’s the case, have the honor and integrity to say and admit it and take the consequences. Don’t either ignore it as if it never happened or deny that you didn’t do it or say it or whatever. To use the modern vernacular again, we all have our “baggage”. Admit to whatever your baggage may be. You might even be surprised that someone else may have similar baggage and could give you some love and compassion to you for having “been there and done that” themselves.
Take life, commitments and people seriously; promises made, promises kept:
Once again, one more axiom, “my word is my bond”. Yes, sometimes, things do happen that either prevent or thwart a promise made from being kept or fulfilled. But in this white lion’s opinion, those cases are and should be rare. Treat any promise made as respectfully as you would any business contractual agreement. A contract is, in essence, just that a promise made, in writing in that case, that says I will do this or I will do that. Breaking a written business contract is not a good thing, neither is the breaking of a verbal one as well, a promise you made to someone.
Promises nowadays are the seeming dime a dozen. Said with a caviler attitude that treats it as nothing, small talk that makes it into a veritable euphemism of itself and not what it rightfully should be. How many times I have been let down in this, by co-workers, furiends and even quasi-“adopted” family members. Yes, I have to deal with it an then react to it as best as I can, there’s no choice there really, but it so hurts. This white lion does see each and every one as a betrayal of my trust, and even more sadly, sometimes love in those I have relationships with. In my story I’m writing, my white lion character and alter-ego, Davey, always says when he makes a promise that it’s a “white lion promise”, meaning that you can count on its being kept and fulfilled. How I wish I would see that ethic in more of the folks I know and deal with.
A thing that I see as a common occurrence in the furry fandom that greatly saddens and annoys me is the way the concept and the word “mate” and “mating” is taken so casually and lightly. Bluntly, that is not the way this white lion sees things. Again, to state this so you don’t think I’m some kind of an insane fanatic on this or any other issue here I’m talking about, yes, I do know that relationships can and do fail. In true marriages, that is what divorce is for. I, myself, am a cub, an only cub by the way, of divorced parents. And, although my life was no picnic from having that divorce happen, I know that had my parents stayed together it would have been a living Hell for all of us. So I do know what I’m speaking on here.
But I’m sorry, as I see it, the word mate, in the furry fandom is a joke. A mate lasts as long as long as it suits or pleases the individual. I see and hear of monthly, even weekly, mate changes. Sorry folks, in lion’s eyes that’s “expletive deleted”! Yes, in almost all of the United States save for a few, gay marriage is not allowed. Lion knows this. But a commitment of love and devotion IS A COMMITMENT no matter what, with or without a governmental piece of paper putting it in writing.
This lion has made his own commitment of love and mating back on Thanksgiving of 2009. This is a lifetime commitment I made, KNOWINGLY made. And, only my death shall break it. Even then, it will only break it as far as this life goes. I shall wait “on the other side” for my mate to join me when that time finally comes.
Truly, to any and all who read this, do you or does “anyone” know the meaning of the word love anymore? And, additionally, do you or they give it the true honor and respect it deserves? YIFF IS FINE, BUT IT IS NOT LOVE AND NOT BY A LONG SHOT! For every mate “cast aside”, another heart is broken; shame, shame.
And finally, appreciation and thankfulness:
Are you a user? Do you simply take and take and take and very seldom if ever give? If a kindness is done to you directly or for you, for your benefit, do you both appreciate it and say the “magic words” of thank you? This lion does! And, let me assure you that involves many times of saying it by me, for my entire life. But sadly lately, because of my fooey circumstances I’m in, it’s seemingly all of the time that I keep needing help and then thanking those kind souls that provide it to me. No lie, my furry white ass has been saved many times by several over these past couple of years that this seemingly constant foo has been occurring. Honestly, I could very well not be here writing this journal today if it weren’t for them. I have thanked them over and over again already and will continue to do so forever more. The old saying of “you saved my life” is ABSOLUTELY true this this lion’s case, I fully admit it.
But sadly, I do not see that same level of thankfulness in others I know and this so saddens me. This is not just a fursonal opinion of only my mind I assure you, actions and attitudes are most definitely seen and duly noted by all, seen by both the involved and also the not-so-involved as well. Bridges do get burned my furiends, do not fool or kid yourself, “as you reap, so shall you sow”. Truer words were never spoken. And so, we’ve now gone full circle then to where I began, honor, integrity and good name.
Having said his piece, the white lion gets off his “soapbox” and departs. “Semper Furry”.
Literally, for over two years now, this lion has been going through foo after foo after foo. It never ends. If I receive any small joy whatsoever, it is immediately cancelled out by some sort of foo happening to kill and take away that momentary joy. This just happened to me most recently on Friday, the 24th of June. Am I paying for being a bad lion in a previous life? Sure don’t know, but sure seems like it.
Well, anyway, to restate the obvious if you know me, I am a 59 year old “old farty lion”, a greymuzzle in the furry vernacular description. So, yes, I am pretty much old school in many ways. I fully admit that I am not naïve to the way the world is, but I keep hoping for better and keep getting so sorely disappointed, both in general and in my own fursonal life. The old saying of our, society, country, world “going to hell in a hand-basket” seems truer than it ever was to me. We now live in a society, that “we” created over my lifetime, say from about the 1960’s on, that has most (not yet all thank goodness) that thinks only of themselves. Yes, “me first” has been there since time began, I do know that. But, it has reached a nadir and zenith of Mount Everest sized proportions. Here’s a rundown on different principles I see lacking if not completely absent in so many…
Honor and integrity, one’s good name:
One should care and “give a damn” about what they do and say and what others say about them. If you cannot be trusted on and relied upon you’re a poor furson indeed. As what just happened to me a few weeks ago, I was a victim of a scandalous lie upon my character. I was in no way what I was thought to be and I “fought back” and did so hard. Some said that I shouldn’t let it get to me so, that they knew it wasn’t true and I knew that it wasn’t, so, in effect, don’t stress so over it. I just could not do that and would not do that ever. That was my good name beaten and sullied and I was not just going to take it. Through my persistence, I got it finally resolved and got my good name back, but I never got an apology from the person who wronged me, even though I now had written and absolute proof that what had been thought was a lie. That ties into another thing I need to comment on next.
Taking responsibility for what you do and say, good bad or indifferent:
Again this lion is not naïve and knows very well the old axiom of “talk is cheap”. Have the honor and integrity to stand up for things, what you believe in, or, as well, for or against someone or something that you think is wrong. But, ALSO have the honor and integrity to admit when you do find out or are proven that you are wrong. Do not underestimate the power of the words “I’m sorry”, they can so make a difference and cause a bitter or even hateful heart to possibly begin to heal. Now, depending on the situation, the words may be pitifully inadequate. In an exaggerated example, if you go and murder someone, a million “I’m sorry’s” ain’t gonn’a get you out of that one in actual fact. That involves repentance, but I won’t “go there” here. But for most cases, if you either find yourself wrong or proven wrong, “be a man” and admit it and AT THE VERY LEAST say I’m sorry. Most folks seem to have lost this in both the concept of it and of the actual practice of it in today’s society. I will say though, just touching upon the subject of repentance, that, at least for me, if you’ll at least take that small “step”, that does mean a lot and that can start to build a bridge of forgiveness for even quite agregious wrongs.
This equally applies to how you live your life. Your actions have and create consequences! If you don’t think that or believe that I honestly pity you as much as I also truly fear you. Yes, WE all make our share of good decisions and bad decisions, of course. None but the Higher Power above is perfect. Or, we make a decision that we thought was a good one at the time, but it ends up souring into something bad instead. If that’s the case, have the honor and integrity to say and admit it and take the consequences. Don’t either ignore it as if it never happened or deny that you didn’t do it or say it or whatever. To use the modern vernacular again, we all have our “baggage”. Admit to whatever your baggage may be. You might even be surprised that someone else may have similar baggage and could give you some love and compassion to you for having “been there and done that” themselves.
Take life, commitments and people seriously; promises made, promises kept:
Once again, one more axiom, “my word is my bond”. Yes, sometimes, things do happen that either prevent or thwart a promise made from being kept or fulfilled. But in this white lion’s opinion, those cases are and should be rare. Treat any promise made as respectfully as you would any business contractual agreement. A contract is, in essence, just that a promise made, in writing in that case, that says I will do this or I will do that. Breaking a written business contract is not a good thing, neither is the breaking of a verbal one as well, a promise you made to someone.
Promises nowadays are the seeming dime a dozen. Said with a caviler attitude that treats it as nothing, small talk that makes it into a veritable euphemism of itself and not what it rightfully should be. How many times I have been let down in this, by co-workers, furiends and even quasi-“adopted” family members. Yes, I have to deal with it an then react to it as best as I can, there’s no choice there really, but it so hurts. This white lion does see each and every one as a betrayal of my trust, and even more sadly, sometimes love in those I have relationships with. In my story I’m writing, my white lion character and alter-ego, Davey, always says when he makes a promise that it’s a “white lion promise”, meaning that you can count on its being kept and fulfilled. How I wish I would see that ethic in more of the folks I know and deal with.
A thing that I see as a common occurrence in the furry fandom that greatly saddens and annoys me is the way the concept and the word “mate” and “mating” is taken so casually and lightly. Bluntly, that is not the way this white lion sees things. Again, to state this so you don’t think I’m some kind of an insane fanatic on this or any other issue here I’m talking about, yes, I do know that relationships can and do fail. In true marriages, that is what divorce is for. I, myself, am a cub, an only cub by the way, of divorced parents. And, although my life was no picnic from having that divorce happen, I know that had my parents stayed together it would have been a living Hell for all of us. So I do know what I’m speaking on here.
But I’m sorry, as I see it, the word mate, in the furry fandom is a joke. A mate lasts as long as long as it suits or pleases the individual. I see and hear of monthly, even weekly, mate changes. Sorry folks, in lion’s eyes that’s “expletive deleted”! Yes, in almost all of the United States save for a few, gay marriage is not allowed. Lion knows this. But a commitment of love and devotion IS A COMMITMENT no matter what, with or without a governmental piece of paper putting it in writing.
This lion has made his own commitment of love and mating back on Thanksgiving of 2009. This is a lifetime commitment I made, KNOWINGLY made. And, only my death shall break it. Even then, it will only break it as far as this life goes. I shall wait “on the other side” for my mate to join me when that time finally comes.
Truly, to any and all who read this, do you or does “anyone” know the meaning of the word love anymore? And, additionally, do you or they give it the true honor and respect it deserves? YIFF IS FINE, BUT IT IS NOT LOVE AND NOT BY A LONG SHOT! For every mate “cast aside”, another heart is broken; shame, shame.
And finally, appreciation and thankfulness:
Are you a user? Do you simply take and take and take and very seldom if ever give? If a kindness is done to you directly or for you, for your benefit, do you both appreciate it and say the “magic words” of thank you? This lion does! And, let me assure you that involves many times of saying it by me, for my entire life. But sadly lately, because of my fooey circumstances I’m in, it’s seemingly all of the time that I keep needing help and then thanking those kind souls that provide it to me. No lie, my furry white ass has been saved many times by several over these past couple of years that this seemingly constant foo has been occurring. Honestly, I could very well not be here writing this journal today if it weren’t for them. I have thanked them over and over again already and will continue to do so forever more. The old saying of “you saved my life” is ABSOLUTELY true this this lion’s case, I fully admit it.
But sadly, I do not see that same level of thankfulness in others I know and this so saddens me. This is not just a fursonal opinion of only my mind I assure you, actions and attitudes are most definitely seen and duly noted by all, seen by both the involved and also the not-so-involved as well. Bridges do get burned my furiends, do not fool or kid yourself, “as you reap, so shall you sow”. Truer words were never spoken. And so, we’ve now gone full circle then to where I began, honor, integrity and good name.
Having said his piece, the white lion gets off his “soapbox” and departs. “Semper Furry”.
Who steals my purse steals trash...But he that filches...
Posted 14 years agoGood name in man and woman, dear my lord,
Is the immediate jewel of their souls.
Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing;
'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands;
But he that filches from me my good name
Robs me of that which not enriches him,
And makes me poor indeed.
Othello Act 3, scene 3, 155–161
Aah, the great bard himself, Shakespeare, who wrote those very words, had it exactly right! And, dear furiends, this white lion has been a victim of this very bad and heinous deed. It is relief that I can say to you now that my good name has finally been returned to me. But no celebrating can be had right now as both my anger and my sorrow is that great. For I was wronged and wronged to the extreme! To what, I would say that most would say, was as egregious a wrong as there ever could have been put upon me. When the information came yesterday that my fight to regain my name was ultimately successful, my initial reaction and response was pure “righteous anger”. I shook all over my entire body and I seethed with anger. Learning the how and why of it all took away all of the joy I might have had at my “victory”. I’ll fully admit it, in those first few minutes I was as if a attacked and cornered real lion, white or otherwise, who wanted only to wreak vengeance upon those who so viciously attacked him
I cannot share all the full details here, not right now at least. Perhaps at a future point in time, I might change my mind but most definitely not now. Please forgive me, if I any way offend you. I do not in any way mean to tease. But this experience has left me near totally devastated and I don’t want to go over it again. It is done, I hope. It is figuratively buried. In many ways, I hope it stays that way forever more.
It almost goes without saying but I must reiterate it even if there is some redundancy in it. But you are going along, minding your own business when you are literally blind-sided by such a thing. Sucker-punched if you will as another euphemism. This is what happened about two weeks ago. Those of you that know be directly and all others who only know me by my posts here do know that the white lion has been suffering much “foo” for all too long now. Excuse the old cliché, but “I needed this like I needed a hole in my head.” Being totally truthful, if it weren’t for two very close relationships I have, I very easily could have said “that’s it, I’m done” and left this mortal life. And, rest assured, the thought was there in my mind and never left! But my love and duty to those two that I love and care for so, kept me from ever actually doing the deed.
Now, it’s back to fighting the foo that I’ve been dealing with. Unfortunately I cannot rest and recuperate. To metaphorically lick my wounds as it were, as it seems that someone or something, perhaps even the Higher Power up in Heaven itself, has other ideas for my immediate future.
Was this something only unique to me? My particular situation yes, but no of course not, on the scenario itself. This falls into the category of “identity theft”. But please believe me that this surely must have been the apex of the expression in how it’s normally thought of and used.
Both partially joking yet being VERY serious at the same time, let me assure you, when my human life is done, hopefully and prayerfully ONLY by the natural cause of old age, I damn well ain’t comin’ back as a human for the next life. What EVER was I thinking when I chose to take this human life?
Lion in word, honor and deed, in heart and in spirit… in a human body, but always and forever a white lion!
I am “Me”
Is the immediate jewel of their souls.
Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing;
'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands;
But he that filches from me my good name
Robs me of that which not enriches him,
And makes me poor indeed.
Othello Act 3, scene 3, 155–161
Aah, the great bard himself, Shakespeare, who wrote those very words, had it exactly right! And, dear furiends, this white lion has been a victim of this very bad and heinous deed. It is relief that I can say to you now that my good name has finally been returned to me. But no celebrating can be had right now as both my anger and my sorrow is that great. For I was wronged and wronged to the extreme! To what, I would say that most would say, was as egregious a wrong as there ever could have been put upon me. When the information came yesterday that my fight to regain my name was ultimately successful, my initial reaction and response was pure “righteous anger”. I shook all over my entire body and I seethed with anger. Learning the how and why of it all took away all of the joy I might have had at my “victory”. I’ll fully admit it, in those first few minutes I was as if a attacked and cornered real lion, white or otherwise, who wanted only to wreak vengeance upon those who so viciously attacked him
I cannot share all the full details here, not right now at least. Perhaps at a future point in time, I might change my mind but most definitely not now. Please forgive me, if I any way offend you. I do not in any way mean to tease. But this experience has left me near totally devastated and I don’t want to go over it again. It is done, I hope. It is figuratively buried. In many ways, I hope it stays that way forever more.
It almost goes without saying but I must reiterate it even if there is some redundancy in it. But you are going along, minding your own business when you are literally blind-sided by such a thing. Sucker-punched if you will as another euphemism. This is what happened about two weeks ago. Those of you that know be directly and all others who only know me by my posts here do know that the white lion has been suffering much “foo” for all too long now. Excuse the old cliché, but “I needed this like I needed a hole in my head.” Being totally truthful, if it weren’t for two very close relationships I have, I very easily could have said “that’s it, I’m done” and left this mortal life. And, rest assured, the thought was there in my mind and never left! But my love and duty to those two that I love and care for so, kept me from ever actually doing the deed.
Now, it’s back to fighting the foo that I’ve been dealing with. Unfortunately I cannot rest and recuperate. To metaphorically lick my wounds as it were, as it seems that someone or something, perhaps even the Higher Power up in Heaven itself, has other ideas for my immediate future.
Was this something only unique to me? My particular situation yes, but no of course not, on the scenario itself. This falls into the category of “identity theft”. But please believe me that this surely must have been the apex of the expression in how it’s normally thought of and used.
Both partially joking yet being VERY serious at the same time, let me assure you, when my human life is done, hopefully and prayerfully ONLY by the natural cause of old age, I damn well ain’t comin’ back as a human for the next life. What EVER was I thinking when I chose to take this human life?
Lion in word, honor and deed, in heart and in spirit… in a human body, but always and forever a white lion!
I am “Me”
Betrayed!
Posted 15 years agoA white lion has a huge heart that yearns to help. Now, we are not naive that we can't hope to solve all the world's problems, of course we can't. But we strive to do whatever we can to help. At the very least, "one at a time". One, although a low number is still one more than none and one's do add up over time. When a white lion makes a promise or commits to something, you can be assured that the lion's word is it's bond. Only the most dire of circumstances would keep the lion from doing what was said or promised. Sad to say, THIS lion has just fallen victim to someone that took lion's furiendship for granted.
The lion and his furiends made life-changing decisions to help out a furiend in dire need of emotional assistance. The furiend was going through especially hard times though no real fault of his own, Lion can identify with that given lion's own life experiences lately.
Well, to keep things "private", lion will skip all the sad details. The participants involved all know who and what they are. But, just this Sunday, for both figuratively and actual fact, our furiend we were trying to help bailed on us and left us "out in the cold". I could never have imagined that what happened, happened. But it did, oh how it did! Now this white lion is trying to salvage the resultant situation into something that will allow us to move on and not to be brought to the edge and being pushed over the proverbial cliff.
To my/our furiend, if you read this, how could you? We were there to help you, to be your seemingly only loyal and true furiends at the time. I know the strain you were under, truly I do, but we had promised you we'd not bail on you. Why did you bail on us?
I'm sad and hurt beyond belief. Truly I am. While you have done something I can never forget, I can't wish you harm. I hope that in your state you're in right now, you'll remember my words, my furiend's words. "If you don't even attempt to try, you're guaranteed to fail."
A white lion walks back into his lair to "lick his wounds"...and will keep asking, over and over, why?
"Vaya con Dios", dear furiend.......
The lion and his furiends made life-changing decisions to help out a furiend in dire need of emotional assistance. The furiend was going through especially hard times though no real fault of his own, Lion can identify with that given lion's own life experiences lately.
Well, to keep things "private", lion will skip all the sad details. The participants involved all know who and what they are. But, just this Sunday, for both figuratively and actual fact, our furiend we were trying to help bailed on us and left us "out in the cold". I could never have imagined that what happened, happened. But it did, oh how it did! Now this white lion is trying to salvage the resultant situation into something that will allow us to move on and not to be brought to the edge and being pushed over the proverbial cliff.
To my/our furiend, if you read this, how could you? We were there to help you, to be your seemingly only loyal and true furiends at the time. I know the strain you were under, truly I do, but we had promised you we'd not bail on you. Why did you bail on us?
I'm sad and hurt beyond belief. Truly I am. While you have done something I can never forget, I can't wish you harm. I hope that in your state you're in right now, you'll remember my words, my furiend's words. "If you don't even attempt to try, you're guaranteed to fail."
A white lion walks back into his lair to "lick his wounds"...and will keep asking, over and over, why?
"Vaya con Dios", dear furiend.......
“Don't look back. Something might be gaining on you!”
Posted 15 years ago“Don't look back. Something might be gaining on you!” --Satchel Paige
Or, another quotation I first heard in junior high school (many, many moons ago) was this one. “They say cheer up, things could be worse. So I did. Sure enough, they got worse!” Sad to say I don’t know of its origin. But both quotes sure seem to size-up and describe lion’s life right now. I don’t want to make this journal into a long pity-party, but I do think all my on-line furiends and acquaintances should know why the white lion has been so distant and aloof lately. It’s not because of anyone “here” that reads this. No, it’s…forgive the use of ANOTHER quotation but…”Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making plans.” That’s from John Lennon of the famous Beatles.
One other thing you should know of me if you do not already, as part of my story wring I’ve been doing, first with 3 others, then continuing on by myself, I made up a word that I now use myself all the time and many of my closest furiends do too. The word is “foo”. It’s designed to be an all-purpose, non-offensive or offending curse word. It can be used to express anger, frustration, any kind of problem or problematic situation and is a perfect expletive that gets the point across without being as crude and nasty as that “other” F-word that is most commonly used. So foo is the word I shall use and please be my guest to add and use it in your vocabulary as well if you wish. In a nutshell, for the last couple of years, it’s been foo, upon foo, piled upon even more foo for the semi-old white lion.
My career has been doing costumed character since 1986, that’s twenty-four years my furry furiends. Longer than some of you have even been alive. Lion has furiends of all ages, happily. But about three years ago, as the economy of the country started to turn for the downward side. Lion’s life began what became a slow but sure downward slide. As a “luxury” item, characters at kid’s birthday parties are expendable. Rent, rightfully should win over having “Hunny Bear” come to junior’s second birthday party. Though I will say a “foo” for that, albeit a selfish “foo”.
Used to be, I could count on about twelve to sixteen shows each month other than for the Christmas season. Christmas was the “boom time”! There, in one month, I could do sixty to seventy shows in December. And, in all cases, though the basic show was one-hour in length, multiples hour gigs meant multiple money. I won’t say I was ever rich. But I lived comfortably and usually had a few bucks “left over" to buy a plushie or a DVD, CD or something.
But then, as the economy started to go bad, shows began to slightly lessen. Now, ten to twelve were becoming the norm. Not yet a critical situation but it was both noticed and considered in my non-bill related spending. Christmas was still strong. I’m “guessing” here, but I think the thought was that “we might defer or put off other things, but we’re gonn’a have ourselves a good Christmas”. This remained true through the 2007 Christmas season. But then for everybody doing this, at least in Southern California, after Christmas, it literally died. January and February were always our slow months, a combination of winter coolness and ever-present rain chance and just out-and-out financial exhaustion from the Christmas season. But as ’08 started, there was “nothing”. And that was nothing for everybody, not just me. Now, only six to seven shows a month, about one or maybe two a weekend if “I” were lucky. That, wasn’t going to pay enough to meet my basic monthly obligations. I’ve never lived “beyond my means”, but like so many, the cost of living just keeps chipping away at my financial stability.
As example, when I moved into my one-bedroom apartment in 1993, it was $560 dollars a month. I had been paying $500 a month for a studio apartment in Solana Beach, which is the small city just north of Del Mar. Actually, I lived in some apartments just north of the Del Mar race track. I was right next to the recessed Amtrak train line and the street on the other side of “the tracks” was the Pacific Coast Highway. It only took me like five to seven minutes to be able to walk down the highway a short distance to get right to the beach and ocean. “Life was good”…then. So paying only $60 dollars more a month to get a full one-bedroom was a good deal at the time. Granted, Covina, California in the San Gabriel Valley was never Solana Beach on its best day, its where the most work was. This very same apartment was costing me $1015 a month just before I finally had to give it up in July. Major FOO for that!
With so few character shows, I started a frantic “job-job” search to make up the difference. As I think most know, of any age, it’s next to impossible to get good-paying work anymore and still very hard to get minimum wage jobs at “Wally World’ or the like. Too many people, too few jobs. And, just to make mention, but “not really go there”, way too many illegal immigrants that literally flood the low-end job market. If your trying to find jobs in the service sector, assembly, warehouse or landscaping, almost don’t bother, you’re doomed before you start.
Well, I did get hired at Disneyland, but not as a character or a character-helper where I had over twenty years of experience under my proverbial belt. No, I got hired as a third-shift night janitor. Took over a month from application to finally getting hired and I’ll admit I needed another income, so, as its said, “beggars can’t be choosers”. In so many ways, I so regret the decision. My heart was sad even though I did get what I wanted, a job.
The work was honorable. All legitimate, honest work is. Things do have to be maintained or repaired and somebody’s got to do it. But I’ll confess that the lion truly swallowed his pride taking that job. I know I was so much better than that. In intelligence, abilities, work experience and so on. They said that was all they had at the time. Maybe so. But I don’t understand, with my resume’ of vast character experience, why they wouldn’t have “grabbed” me and made room for me so to speak in their character department.
But, even with the job, I still pretty much struggled. I commuted 30 miles each way. And, unfortunately, this was during the major rise and spike in gasoline prices. At its highest point, here in So Cal, regular gasoline was $4.69 a gallon. I drove, and still do, my PT Cruiser. Which does get good and reasonable mileage. But when gas hit that high, it was like all I was doing was paying to put gas in the car to get to work to make the money to buy the gas. Talk about a “vicious circle”. Insert anoth’a foo!
Well, the night janitor job lased a year and a half. Then I was let go. Not fired, but terminated. A whole story there on its own, which I’m not hiding, but would add way too much detail here to an already fairly lengthy story. I will say, “if I knew then, what I know now…” and leave it at that for now.
So income never met outgo, even as frugal as I am. I hated to do it, but I started selling fursuits as needed to try to make extra money. I’ve sold about twelve to this point. Trouble is, I could only get about half-value for them. My suits are not custom-made, form-to-fit. A “Mixed Candy” or the like suit goes for $1,500 or better when put on E-Bay. But mine are standard suits that are semi-customized but are not the form-to-fit style. Mine aren’t “wanted” in the same way. Even though they ARE very good fursuits. Kind of hurts, you know. I’m not unrealistic to the idea of supply and demand, but, to me, these are more than just fursuits, suits of fur, WAY MORE! These are my alter-egos, my children if you will, SEROIUSLY! Each one sold has torn me apart for having to do it. I’ve said good-bye to them as I mailed them off. I’ve also sold some other personal things as well as the fursuits. Sold a moderate-sized pin collection as well. That too, at about half its actual value of the pins that were collected. I also sold several pairs of Ugg boots I had bought during better times but had not yet worn. So they were as new, those super-furry “Mama Fluff” boots. I hated to sell those too, but you do what you gotta do.
Been on unemployment since the loss of the janitor job. The shows are effectively gone now I guess, until the economy comes back. Unfortunately, that doesn’t appear to be likely happening soon. But, in as example of “things could be worse”, yep, sure enough, “they got worse”. Because the federal government didn’t continue the funding as it should have, my, and many, many other’s benefits suddenly stopped at the beginning of July. Well, if I’ve got no income, I sure as Hell can’t can pay rent. So, although there would be a whole story within a story to tell you here, we’ll just give you the essence of what happened and that was I had to give up apartment and move out. Better that, than to be evicted. FOO, FOO, FOO!
Didn’t pay July rent and used that money instead to rent a “Budget” rental truck, get moving and packing supplies and pay for a storage space to put everything in. I got an agreement with the corporate landlord of my apartment complex to use my security deposit ($375) towards my few days of rent into July (about $33 a day rounded). I would get the three-day “pay or quit” notice on the sixth, when rent wasn’t paid by the fifth as it should be, but as long as I was out before the three days were up, no eviction efforts would be made. The move took myself and three furiends four days to do. It just takes time. My plush collection of most of my life is over a thousand plushies alone. At 58 years old, it was SO hard for me.
So, as of now, My life, as I knew and loved it, sits in a 10x20 storage unit. I’m squeezed in with two dear furiends in their bedroom about, ironically, nine miles east of Disneyland. The overall house environment is not good for any of us and, bluntly, we try to stay in our room to avoid any friction or conflicts. Life is not good for the lion and his furiends.
We three are more than likely going to leave the state later this year. We’d go right now in one way, but some money must be saved up. In all honesty, though I was born in California and lived my whole life here, I gotta say it’s “beaten” me. “I give up”, I can take the hint”. It doesn’t want me, and, with the way I’ve been treated, I don’t want it!
If you’ve read all this, thank you so much. I know I’m not the only one with troubles and I also know there are those in the ‘third world” that would make my life a ”pleasure” in comparison. But, I thought you might like to know what’s been happening with the white lion. And, for those of you I do communicate with more directly, this might give explaination to why I’ve been so “distant” lately. I still will proudly say….”Semper Furry!”
Or, another quotation I first heard in junior high school (many, many moons ago) was this one. “They say cheer up, things could be worse. So I did. Sure enough, they got worse!” Sad to say I don’t know of its origin. But both quotes sure seem to size-up and describe lion’s life right now. I don’t want to make this journal into a long pity-party, but I do think all my on-line furiends and acquaintances should know why the white lion has been so distant and aloof lately. It’s not because of anyone “here” that reads this. No, it’s…forgive the use of ANOTHER quotation but…”Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making plans.” That’s from John Lennon of the famous Beatles.
One other thing you should know of me if you do not already, as part of my story wring I’ve been doing, first with 3 others, then continuing on by myself, I made up a word that I now use myself all the time and many of my closest furiends do too. The word is “foo”. It’s designed to be an all-purpose, non-offensive or offending curse word. It can be used to express anger, frustration, any kind of problem or problematic situation and is a perfect expletive that gets the point across without being as crude and nasty as that “other” F-word that is most commonly used. So foo is the word I shall use and please be my guest to add and use it in your vocabulary as well if you wish. In a nutshell, for the last couple of years, it’s been foo, upon foo, piled upon even more foo for the semi-old white lion.
My career has been doing costumed character since 1986, that’s twenty-four years my furry furiends. Longer than some of you have even been alive. Lion has furiends of all ages, happily. But about three years ago, as the economy of the country started to turn for the downward side. Lion’s life began what became a slow but sure downward slide. As a “luxury” item, characters at kid’s birthday parties are expendable. Rent, rightfully should win over having “Hunny Bear” come to junior’s second birthday party. Though I will say a “foo” for that, albeit a selfish “foo”.
Used to be, I could count on about twelve to sixteen shows each month other than for the Christmas season. Christmas was the “boom time”! There, in one month, I could do sixty to seventy shows in December. And, in all cases, though the basic show was one-hour in length, multiples hour gigs meant multiple money. I won’t say I was ever rich. But I lived comfortably and usually had a few bucks “left over" to buy a plushie or a DVD, CD or something.
But then, as the economy started to go bad, shows began to slightly lessen. Now, ten to twelve were becoming the norm. Not yet a critical situation but it was both noticed and considered in my non-bill related spending. Christmas was still strong. I’m “guessing” here, but I think the thought was that “we might defer or put off other things, but we’re gonn’a have ourselves a good Christmas”. This remained true through the 2007 Christmas season. But then for everybody doing this, at least in Southern California, after Christmas, it literally died. January and February were always our slow months, a combination of winter coolness and ever-present rain chance and just out-and-out financial exhaustion from the Christmas season. But as ’08 started, there was “nothing”. And that was nothing for everybody, not just me. Now, only six to seven shows a month, about one or maybe two a weekend if “I” were lucky. That, wasn’t going to pay enough to meet my basic monthly obligations. I’ve never lived “beyond my means”, but like so many, the cost of living just keeps chipping away at my financial stability.
As example, when I moved into my one-bedroom apartment in 1993, it was $560 dollars a month. I had been paying $500 a month for a studio apartment in Solana Beach, which is the small city just north of Del Mar. Actually, I lived in some apartments just north of the Del Mar race track. I was right next to the recessed Amtrak train line and the street on the other side of “the tracks” was the Pacific Coast Highway. It only took me like five to seven minutes to be able to walk down the highway a short distance to get right to the beach and ocean. “Life was good”…then. So paying only $60 dollars more a month to get a full one-bedroom was a good deal at the time. Granted, Covina, California in the San Gabriel Valley was never Solana Beach on its best day, its where the most work was. This very same apartment was costing me $1015 a month just before I finally had to give it up in July. Major FOO for that!
With so few character shows, I started a frantic “job-job” search to make up the difference. As I think most know, of any age, it’s next to impossible to get good-paying work anymore and still very hard to get minimum wage jobs at “Wally World’ or the like. Too many people, too few jobs. And, just to make mention, but “not really go there”, way too many illegal immigrants that literally flood the low-end job market. If your trying to find jobs in the service sector, assembly, warehouse or landscaping, almost don’t bother, you’re doomed before you start.
Well, I did get hired at Disneyland, but not as a character or a character-helper where I had over twenty years of experience under my proverbial belt. No, I got hired as a third-shift night janitor. Took over a month from application to finally getting hired and I’ll admit I needed another income, so, as its said, “beggars can’t be choosers”. In so many ways, I so regret the decision. My heart was sad even though I did get what I wanted, a job.
The work was honorable. All legitimate, honest work is. Things do have to be maintained or repaired and somebody’s got to do it. But I’ll confess that the lion truly swallowed his pride taking that job. I know I was so much better than that. In intelligence, abilities, work experience and so on. They said that was all they had at the time. Maybe so. But I don’t understand, with my resume’ of vast character experience, why they wouldn’t have “grabbed” me and made room for me so to speak in their character department.
But, even with the job, I still pretty much struggled. I commuted 30 miles each way. And, unfortunately, this was during the major rise and spike in gasoline prices. At its highest point, here in So Cal, regular gasoline was $4.69 a gallon. I drove, and still do, my PT Cruiser. Which does get good and reasonable mileage. But when gas hit that high, it was like all I was doing was paying to put gas in the car to get to work to make the money to buy the gas. Talk about a “vicious circle”. Insert anoth’a foo!
Well, the night janitor job lased a year and a half. Then I was let go. Not fired, but terminated. A whole story there on its own, which I’m not hiding, but would add way too much detail here to an already fairly lengthy story. I will say, “if I knew then, what I know now…” and leave it at that for now.
So income never met outgo, even as frugal as I am. I hated to do it, but I started selling fursuits as needed to try to make extra money. I’ve sold about twelve to this point. Trouble is, I could only get about half-value for them. My suits are not custom-made, form-to-fit. A “Mixed Candy” or the like suit goes for $1,500 or better when put on E-Bay. But mine are standard suits that are semi-customized but are not the form-to-fit style. Mine aren’t “wanted” in the same way. Even though they ARE very good fursuits. Kind of hurts, you know. I’m not unrealistic to the idea of supply and demand, but, to me, these are more than just fursuits, suits of fur, WAY MORE! These are my alter-egos, my children if you will, SEROIUSLY! Each one sold has torn me apart for having to do it. I’ve said good-bye to them as I mailed them off. I’ve also sold some other personal things as well as the fursuits. Sold a moderate-sized pin collection as well. That too, at about half its actual value of the pins that were collected. I also sold several pairs of Ugg boots I had bought during better times but had not yet worn. So they were as new, those super-furry “Mama Fluff” boots. I hated to sell those too, but you do what you gotta do.
Been on unemployment since the loss of the janitor job. The shows are effectively gone now I guess, until the economy comes back. Unfortunately, that doesn’t appear to be likely happening soon. But, in as example of “things could be worse”, yep, sure enough, “they got worse”. Because the federal government didn’t continue the funding as it should have, my, and many, many other’s benefits suddenly stopped at the beginning of July. Well, if I’ve got no income, I sure as Hell can’t can pay rent. So, although there would be a whole story within a story to tell you here, we’ll just give you the essence of what happened and that was I had to give up apartment and move out. Better that, than to be evicted. FOO, FOO, FOO!
Didn’t pay July rent and used that money instead to rent a “Budget” rental truck, get moving and packing supplies and pay for a storage space to put everything in. I got an agreement with the corporate landlord of my apartment complex to use my security deposit ($375) towards my few days of rent into July (about $33 a day rounded). I would get the three-day “pay or quit” notice on the sixth, when rent wasn’t paid by the fifth as it should be, but as long as I was out before the three days were up, no eviction efforts would be made. The move took myself and three furiends four days to do. It just takes time. My plush collection of most of my life is over a thousand plushies alone. At 58 years old, it was SO hard for me.
So, as of now, My life, as I knew and loved it, sits in a 10x20 storage unit. I’m squeezed in with two dear furiends in their bedroom about, ironically, nine miles east of Disneyland. The overall house environment is not good for any of us and, bluntly, we try to stay in our room to avoid any friction or conflicts. Life is not good for the lion and his furiends.
We three are more than likely going to leave the state later this year. We’d go right now in one way, but some money must be saved up. In all honesty, though I was born in California and lived my whole life here, I gotta say it’s “beaten” me. “I give up”, I can take the hint”. It doesn’t want me, and, with the way I’ve been treated, I don’t want it!
If you’ve read all this, thank you so much. I know I’m not the only one with troubles and I also know there are those in the ‘third world” that would make my life a ”pleasure” in comparison. But, I thought you might like to know what’s been happening with the white lion. And, for those of you I do communicate with more directly, this might give explaination to why I’ve been so “distant” lately. I still will proudly say….”Semper Furry!”
Name To Song To Name Meme
Posted 15 years ago(From a very silly dog I know...)
Here's what you have to do. Post your full name. Then using each letter, give the name of a song that you have in your music library. AND YOU CANNOT USE THE SAME SONG TITLE TWICE. But now here's the tricky part. Once you do that, you have to take the LAST letters of each of the song names you used for the first half and rearrange them into a new name. You don't HAVE TO use all the letters, but you can't use new ones.
Hakuna Matata (Timon & Pumbaa)
El Paso (Marty Robbins)
Nuttin' For XMAS (Stan Freeberg)
Rockin' Around The Xmas Tree(F.Leghorn)
You're A Mean One, Mr. Grinch (Karloff)
All I want For Xmas Is My 2 Front Teeth
Under A Violet Moon (Blackmore's Night)
Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer
Unforgetable (Diana Washington)
Santa Claus Is Comin' To Town(B. Crosby
The best Present Ever (Tigger)
Scooby-Dooby Doo (Theme song)
Must Be Santa (Mitch Miller)
It Never Rains In Southern California
This Ole House (Rosemary Clooney)
Hawaii Five-0 Theme
A-O-S-E-H-H-N-R-E-N-R-O-A-A-E-O
Renee Roosa Hoanha
"STOOPID MEME FOO! FOO ON DA" MUTE! FOO!"
Here's what you have to do. Post your full name. Then using each letter, give the name of a song that you have in your music library. AND YOU CANNOT USE THE SAME SONG TITLE TWICE. But now here's the tricky part. Once you do that, you have to take the LAST letters of each of the song names you used for the first half and rearrange them into a new name. You don't HAVE TO use all the letters, but you can't use new ones.
Hakuna Matata (Timon & Pumbaa)
El Paso (Marty Robbins)
Nuttin' For XMAS (Stan Freeberg)
Rockin' Around The Xmas Tree(F.Leghorn)
You're A Mean One, Mr. Grinch (Karloff)
All I want For Xmas Is My 2 Front Teeth
Under A Violet Moon (Blackmore's Night)
Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer
Unforgetable (Diana Washington)
Santa Claus Is Comin' To Town(B. Crosby
The best Present Ever (Tigger)
Scooby-Dooby Doo (Theme song)
Must Be Santa (Mitch Miller)
It Never Rains In Southern California
This Ole House (Rosemary Clooney)
Hawaii Five-0 Theme
A-O-S-E-H-H-N-R-E-N-R-O-A-A-E-O
Renee Roosa Hoanha
"STOOPID MEME FOO! FOO ON DA" MUTE! FOO!"
A brief but sincere FC con report...
Posted 15 years agoOverall, the con was great and the new hotel is certainly different and so large in comparison to the Doubletree. It's very nice and "swanky". I think this will be a "good home" for FC for years to come.
But the first issue/obstacle was on arrival. They, the hotel, required a $100 cash or credit card deposit (Would not accept debit cards or debit/visa types) per day you were staying. For us, that meant $600 for our six days. I have heard that there were cases where furs had no "extra" money to do this and had to turn around and go back home. Luckily, I had rent money set aside and temporally used that.
Another thing that was majorly disappointing was that the hotel refused the live animal people and their animals in. The two scheduled "shows" were canceled. It's something that the con has "every" year, so it couldn't have been a surprise to them. I don't know any details. I was waiting with others to attend the first of two shows/panels when a con staff lady came up to us to give us the bad news. She said they, the animal people and their animals were here but the hotel was refusing them entry.
Finally, for me and my furiends, we were shocked and appalled, even "offended", by the "Furr Happens" recorded skit at the FNL. After the funny and inspired parody of "Fur in the Box" previously done, why they chose this "mass murder/suicide" thing is beyond me. Yes, there are parodies of the original on "You Tube". But I cannot see ANY humor in the whole skit or idea. My and my furiends opinions are there are just SOME things that AREN'T funny. Suicide and 911 are two of those things My one furiend lost a dear furiend of his to suicide! Another furiend had a gun pointed at him is a suicidal persons attempt to do just that. This happened when he, my furiend, was eleven years old. Respectfully, who thought that this was funny? Who thought this was a good image for the fandom? Who gave the go-ahead? Didn't anybody take a second to stop and think what agony this could cause and how this "offends" people that have been DIRECTLY involved in suicidal situations?
Not to mention, think about the fandom's image. With all the CSI image issues that have been discussed over all the years since the "Fur and Loathing" episode was first aired, I'd think that furries who shoot each other would cause as much or hopefully MORE concern than "yiffing" furries of that episode.
To "Furr Happens", Think now on what you did and feel very ashamed and apologetic. You may not have meant to, but you've caused GREAT hurt and pain to some of your audience.
--Henry (aka "Me Furry")
But the first issue/obstacle was on arrival. They, the hotel, required a $100 cash or credit card deposit (Would not accept debit cards or debit/visa types) per day you were staying. For us, that meant $600 for our six days. I have heard that there were cases where furs had no "extra" money to do this and had to turn around and go back home. Luckily, I had rent money set aside and temporally used that.
Another thing that was majorly disappointing was that the hotel refused the live animal people and their animals in. The two scheduled "shows" were canceled. It's something that the con has "every" year, so it couldn't have been a surprise to them. I don't know any details. I was waiting with others to attend the first of two shows/panels when a con staff lady came up to us to give us the bad news. She said they, the animal people and their animals were here but the hotel was refusing them entry.
Finally, for me and my furiends, we were shocked and appalled, even "offended", by the "Furr Happens" recorded skit at the FNL. After the funny and inspired parody of "Fur in the Box" previously done, why they chose this "mass murder/suicide" thing is beyond me. Yes, there are parodies of the original on "You Tube". But I cannot see ANY humor in the whole skit or idea. My and my furiends opinions are there are just SOME things that AREN'T funny. Suicide and 911 are two of those things My one furiend lost a dear furiend of his to suicide! Another furiend had a gun pointed at him is a suicidal persons attempt to do just that. This happened when he, my furiend, was eleven years old. Respectfully, who thought that this was funny? Who thought this was a good image for the fandom? Who gave the go-ahead? Didn't anybody take a second to stop and think what agony this could cause and how this "offends" people that have been DIRECTLY involved in suicidal situations?
Not to mention, think about the fandom's image. With all the CSI image issues that have been discussed over all the years since the "Fur and Loathing" episode was first aired, I'd think that furries who shoot each other would cause as much or hopefully MORE concern than "yiffing" furries of that episode.
To "Furr Happens", Think now on what you did and feel very ashamed and apologetic. You may not have meant to, but you've caused GREAT hurt and pain to some of your audience.
--Henry (aka "Me Furry")
MY FURRY TALES--STORIES FROM 20 YEARS IN THE FUR #15
Posted 16 years agoEvery once in a while things happen that cause our everyday ordinary lives to cross or touch with those of the well-to-do. I suppose it happens to more than a few times to many who work in the children's entertainment industry of which I am a part of. Even famous people need clowns and characters for their children’s birthday parties. Or, in my particular case here. What I am going to tell you about now. Is, or was rather, a need for a birthday “telegram”. The funny thing is, it probably was a combination of what I have in my stable of characters and just plain old dumb luck that got me the gig.
The phone rings about nine-thirty am on a weekday morning. It’s one of my “agents”, calling if I could do a five character telegram in Hollywood at twelve noon that day. They wanted a beaver, which I didn’t have, but my squirrel was substituted for that. A raccoon, elephant, toucan and moose were also added to make the five character total that was wanted. I was told to go to what’s known as the “old” lot movie studio lot in Hollywood, the old Warner studios lot, and I would be pre-cleared at the gate to come in and do my thing. I was being hired through my agent’s company by Angelina Jolie to do the telegrams for her current boyfriend, Billy Bob Thornton. They had yet to have gotten married at that time. I guess you could say they were still “dating”. This was actually for his birthday.
In my being at home and getting the call, that is what I mean about dumb luck. Had I not been home, someone else would have been called and almost certainly would have gotten the gigs, even if they didn’t have the variety of characters that I do. This was to be in a few hours, so there was no wait-around, gimme a call-back time. I do know that.
Well, kind of rushing a bit, I got the fursuits all together and loaded them into my car and drove off to Hollywood. I got there and was expected as had been promised. I was directed to go to a particular building where, I think it was the production manager’s office, I was to check in and also use as my staging area. Billy Bob was on set filming that Las Vegas movie he was making at the time. He was breaking for lunch and had about an hour free before going back to filming. It was decided that I would probably not have time to do all five after all. So it was decided to do squirrel first then toucan and finish up with moose. I got dressed and walked over to the nearby stage where he was.
When he came out I was there to greet him. We played around a bit and then I left to go back and make a quick-change. Donning the toucan I went back out but he was in process of going over to another building to apparently catch a quick nap or something. That’s what I was told by staff. I followed him all the way to the other building, kind of hounding him but in a nice way. Hey, this is my job, you know. After he went inside I was given a quick ride on a golf cart back to the office that I was using as my changing room. I got into my moose and went back over to the set where the filming was.
Apparently other little plans hand been made for a mini-celebration of his birthday as well. While I was waiting there just outside of the set for him to come back, some food was brought up and accordion player arrived. When Billy Bob arrived back he was warmly greeted with happy birthdays and they all started to have and enjoy the food. A cake was brought in and the happy birthday song was sung. I did my thing of interacting with him and the others there but I was respectful of letting them eat as well. I was able to actually have a dance with Billy Bob with the accordion player providing our music! That was fun! Silly, of course, but fun! All in all, I must say that it was as much fun, or more, for me as I hope it was for him!
The dance ended up concluding things. The little party broke up and he went inside the set once again. I walked back to the office. Got out of my moose and then proceeded to reload my suits back in to my car. As I was doing this I was given a large tip! Needles to say that made me even happier! I have done many “telegrams” over all the years I’ve been doing this but that is my only “star” one. But if it remains the only one I can still tell you it was so much fun! I can proudly state I danced with Billy Bob Thornton…well…”Murphy Moose” did…
Semper Furry! --Me Furry
The phone rings about nine-thirty am on a weekday morning. It’s one of my “agents”, calling if I could do a five character telegram in Hollywood at twelve noon that day. They wanted a beaver, which I didn’t have, but my squirrel was substituted for that. A raccoon, elephant, toucan and moose were also added to make the five character total that was wanted. I was told to go to what’s known as the “old” lot movie studio lot in Hollywood, the old Warner studios lot, and I would be pre-cleared at the gate to come in and do my thing. I was being hired through my agent’s company by Angelina Jolie to do the telegrams for her current boyfriend, Billy Bob Thornton. They had yet to have gotten married at that time. I guess you could say they were still “dating”. This was actually for his birthday.
In my being at home and getting the call, that is what I mean about dumb luck. Had I not been home, someone else would have been called and almost certainly would have gotten the gigs, even if they didn’t have the variety of characters that I do. This was to be in a few hours, so there was no wait-around, gimme a call-back time. I do know that.
Well, kind of rushing a bit, I got the fursuits all together and loaded them into my car and drove off to Hollywood. I got there and was expected as had been promised. I was directed to go to a particular building where, I think it was the production manager’s office, I was to check in and also use as my staging area. Billy Bob was on set filming that Las Vegas movie he was making at the time. He was breaking for lunch and had about an hour free before going back to filming. It was decided that I would probably not have time to do all five after all. So it was decided to do squirrel first then toucan and finish up with moose. I got dressed and walked over to the nearby stage where he was.
When he came out I was there to greet him. We played around a bit and then I left to go back and make a quick-change. Donning the toucan I went back out but he was in process of going over to another building to apparently catch a quick nap or something. That’s what I was told by staff. I followed him all the way to the other building, kind of hounding him but in a nice way. Hey, this is my job, you know. After he went inside I was given a quick ride on a golf cart back to the office that I was using as my changing room. I got into my moose and went back over to the set where the filming was.
Apparently other little plans hand been made for a mini-celebration of his birthday as well. While I was waiting there just outside of the set for him to come back, some food was brought up and accordion player arrived. When Billy Bob arrived back he was warmly greeted with happy birthdays and they all started to have and enjoy the food. A cake was brought in and the happy birthday song was sung. I did my thing of interacting with him and the others there but I was respectful of letting them eat as well. I was able to actually have a dance with Billy Bob with the accordion player providing our music! That was fun! Silly, of course, but fun! All in all, I must say that it was as much fun, or more, for me as I hope it was for him!
The dance ended up concluding things. The little party broke up and he went inside the set once again. I walked back to the office. Got out of my moose and then proceeded to reload my suits back in to my car. As I was doing this I was given a large tip! Needles to say that made me even happier! I have done many “telegrams” over all the years I’ve been doing this but that is my only “star” one. But if it remains the only one I can still tell you it was so much fun! I can proudly state I danced with Billy Bob Thornton…well…”Murphy Moose” did…
Semper Furry! --Me Furry
MY FURRY TALES--STORIES FROM 20 YEARS IN THE FUR! #14
Posted 16 years ago(“…besides, you knew the job was dangerous when you took it!” --Superchicken)
“At your own risk.” I’m sure that’s been said to you more than a couple times over your life. I don’t think anything in this life is worry or pain free. Well, this little post will confirm to you that this adage definitely applies to anthropomorphic characters too. Here are three little incidents that show this to be so true.
First off, all three things happened to the same character. I don’t know if that means anything. It’s my big yellow bird, Iggy. I don’t think it does really. Other than in two of the cases, it was the design of the character suit that “allowed” what happened to happen. The third incident could have happened to any of my characters quite easily. In fact in that one regard, its so surprising it’s only happened that once. Given the thousands of shows I’ve done over my over twenty years plus of performing, you’d have thought just once was a impossibility in itself. Yet at the same time, who could ever imagine? Now to detail and explain these three things that happened to you.
At the conclusion of a one-year old's birthday party, Iggy was asked to take pictures with the kids of the party, one-by-one. Not unusual thing there. It doesn’t happen at every party but it does happen a lot. Because Iggy is so big, he usually sits down “Indian-style” with his long legs crossed for more comfortable and better positioned pictures to be taken. When it came time for the birthday child, he was placed in Iggy’s lap just as all the others had been. As pictures were being snapped by both parents and grandparents, a very “terrible” noise is heard.
“BRAAPP!” Is the sound that comes from the birthday child’s back side. We all know what has just happened. There is no doubt whatsoever! And yes, it was loud enough for all in the immediate area to hear it. All the picture-takers sure did! I, as Iggy, don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Most everyone else that heard it is laughing out loud. Yea, yea, sure it’s funny to you, I’m thinking, but he’s in MY lap!
To explain, if you haven’t already guessed it, the baby just dropped one heck of a load in his diaper. This is not good for one poor bird. It’s the end of this party. But I still had another one still to go to that day. If the worst has happened, Iggy’s got a real problem. You can’t go to a party covered in…well, you know…
Well, praise somebody, God, the Higher Power, but there was no mess. Heaven’s knows there should have been! Based on what I heard and even felt a little bit. At the time my legs were a fluorescent orange colored pair of tights with round ringlets placed along the length of my legs. The tights were as my skin and I could feel the energy of the baby’s dropping of his load. Please trust me there SHOULD have been a major disaster here. As Iggy handed the baby back he said laughingly but truly relieved at the same time to the mother…nervously chuckling.
:”I think the diddie held!”
That is my one and only incident like that in all my years of character shows. When I first started in helping Santa, I was told that that was going to happen, it HAD to happen. That was relating only to Santa too by the way. The question was only when. Well, up to that time I guess I led a charmed life. I still think so in one way because as I write this I’m still unsoiled; at least by that way. Now the next incident happened after that particular incident but years later. The one I’ll tell you about after this one also happened years after that. In fact, it was only a couple years ago in recent work.
Once again on the floor in that same exact position. The kids at this party were almost all babies so that was my best way to relate to them. If I stood and be my natural tall bird self, I’s by a giant to these little kids. I sang some songs as I do and as I just finished my songs a little Sheltie collie walks into the room and basically heads right for me. I’m sure its thinking who or what is this thing that’s in my house. It was friendly it didn’t bark at me or act aggressive in any way. I think it was more curious than anything else. The question, even all these years later is how curious was it after all?
You see, he, I am ASSUMING it was a he, went right up to me and proceeded to sniff me in a very sensitive and inappropriate place. Again, I am in my orange tights so I am extremely vulnerable to say the least. If his investigations lead to anything else, I will sure the heck know it immediately! My biggest worry was an investigatory bite or nibble if it were to occur. That will not be something I’ll be able to ignore or shrug off. I might not have to do the falsetto voice any more. I’ll be able to do it naturally.
Thankfully sniffing was all he did do. Iggy made the comment to no one in particular that he did like doggies and they like him. The little dog was gently picked up by one of the adults and taken to somewhere else. I didn’t see him again for the rest of the party. What can I tell you, us furries are so lovable, we are.
The final incident I want to share is one that happened only about a couple years ago. This one gave me three immediate emotions at one time. I felt laughter, though I did not give away any outward emotion whatsoever. I felt real anger, as that "all right, that’s it", even for little kids. And, I also had one of the biggest surprises ever of my whole life! I can tell you I never had this kind of thing ever enter my thoughts as a possibility of any kind. Goes to show you, you DO never know!
For a third time the character is Iggy. The suit is now mine that I’ve had for many years now. The other one had been the company’s that I had been working for. They are similar but still a bit different from each other. The main difference is the lower body leggings. As said, the old ones were orange tights with cloth ringlets you put on over them. Three on each leg. Mine now are made of a short pile, also a fluorescent orange color, plush fake fur with the ringlets a part of the whole body stocking. It has an elastic waist so they’re much like a pair of pants, only skin tight and not loose like a real pair of pants would be. The bottom of the body is open and rounded for slipping over your head to put on just like the other one had been.
Iggy and the kids were playing games with a parachute at a very large kid’s birthday party at about four in the afternoon. As parties go, a count of around fifteen or so is a pretty standard sized number of kids. This party had a number closer to twenty-five if not maybe a few more. All the kids and Iggy were holding the parachute by its little handles along it’s edge and we were shaking the parachute to make a little stuffed toy bunny rabbit go down the hole that’s there in the center of the parachute. This is something I do at nearly every birthday party I do. So it’s true, I’ve done this “thousands of times”, literally.
As Iggy is standing there he feels a kid crawl between his legs. That has happened many times, no surprise there. Little kids being little kids. Iggy doesn’t even give it a second thought really. But then, poor Iggy does have something happen that even to this day he cannot believe that it happened but it did.
Iggy was groped! Plain and simple, no bones about it, no there’s no mistake or misunderstanding about it. The kid's hand reached up and “copped a feel of Iggy’s “jewels”. Yes they were covered by the orange fur, but still. The sweet and definitely innocent bird was just “violated”! As we were shaking the parachute it was fairly easy to catch a glimpse of the “offender” as we played the game with no apparent reaction from me. It was a boy of I’d say of eight or nine years of age. I'll allow him the innocence of childhood still, but, he was old enough to know exactly what he was doing.
So, in a split second I have to decide what the heck to do. Say something, say nothing or say something away from everybody later, heck. I don’t know? I decide that to say anything would literally open up the proverbial “can of worms” that could so easily backfire and end up “biting me in the ass” so I say nothing, do nothing. I go through the entire party with no further incidents. I guess the boy’s curiosity had been satisfied. I did tell my agent who sent me out on the show what had happened. She felt that what I did, or didn’t do really, was probably the best course to have gone.
What else can I say? That IS one for the books! As stated at the start of this little tale, “…besides, you knew the job was dangerous when you took it!”
Semper Furry! –Me Furry
“At your own risk.” I’m sure that’s been said to you more than a couple times over your life. I don’t think anything in this life is worry or pain free. Well, this little post will confirm to you that this adage definitely applies to anthropomorphic characters too. Here are three little incidents that show this to be so true.
First off, all three things happened to the same character. I don’t know if that means anything. It’s my big yellow bird, Iggy. I don’t think it does really. Other than in two of the cases, it was the design of the character suit that “allowed” what happened to happen. The third incident could have happened to any of my characters quite easily. In fact in that one regard, its so surprising it’s only happened that once. Given the thousands of shows I’ve done over my over twenty years plus of performing, you’d have thought just once was a impossibility in itself. Yet at the same time, who could ever imagine? Now to detail and explain these three things that happened to you.
At the conclusion of a one-year old's birthday party, Iggy was asked to take pictures with the kids of the party, one-by-one. Not unusual thing there. It doesn’t happen at every party but it does happen a lot. Because Iggy is so big, he usually sits down “Indian-style” with his long legs crossed for more comfortable and better positioned pictures to be taken. When it came time for the birthday child, he was placed in Iggy’s lap just as all the others had been. As pictures were being snapped by both parents and grandparents, a very “terrible” noise is heard.
“BRAAPP!” Is the sound that comes from the birthday child’s back side. We all know what has just happened. There is no doubt whatsoever! And yes, it was loud enough for all in the immediate area to hear it. All the picture-takers sure did! I, as Iggy, don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Most everyone else that heard it is laughing out loud. Yea, yea, sure it’s funny to you, I’m thinking, but he’s in MY lap!
To explain, if you haven’t already guessed it, the baby just dropped one heck of a load in his diaper. This is not good for one poor bird. It’s the end of this party. But I still had another one still to go to that day. If the worst has happened, Iggy’s got a real problem. You can’t go to a party covered in…well, you know…
Well, praise somebody, God, the Higher Power, but there was no mess. Heaven’s knows there should have been! Based on what I heard and even felt a little bit. At the time my legs were a fluorescent orange colored pair of tights with round ringlets placed along the length of my legs. The tights were as my skin and I could feel the energy of the baby’s dropping of his load. Please trust me there SHOULD have been a major disaster here. As Iggy handed the baby back he said laughingly but truly relieved at the same time to the mother…nervously chuckling.
:”I think the diddie held!”
That is my one and only incident like that in all my years of character shows. When I first started in helping Santa, I was told that that was going to happen, it HAD to happen. That was relating only to Santa too by the way. The question was only when. Well, up to that time I guess I led a charmed life. I still think so in one way because as I write this I’m still unsoiled; at least by that way. Now the next incident happened after that particular incident but years later. The one I’ll tell you about after this one also happened years after that. In fact, it was only a couple years ago in recent work.
Once again on the floor in that same exact position. The kids at this party were almost all babies so that was my best way to relate to them. If I stood and be my natural tall bird self, I’s by a giant to these little kids. I sang some songs as I do and as I just finished my songs a little Sheltie collie walks into the room and basically heads right for me. I’m sure its thinking who or what is this thing that’s in my house. It was friendly it didn’t bark at me or act aggressive in any way. I think it was more curious than anything else. The question, even all these years later is how curious was it after all?
You see, he, I am ASSUMING it was a he, went right up to me and proceeded to sniff me in a very sensitive and inappropriate place. Again, I am in my orange tights so I am extremely vulnerable to say the least. If his investigations lead to anything else, I will sure the heck know it immediately! My biggest worry was an investigatory bite or nibble if it were to occur. That will not be something I’ll be able to ignore or shrug off. I might not have to do the falsetto voice any more. I’ll be able to do it naturally.
Thankfully sniffing was all he did do. Iggy made the comment to no one in particular that he did like doggies and they like him. The little dog was gently picked up by one of the adults and taken to somewhere else. I didn’t see him again for the rest of the party. What can I tell you, us furries are so lovable, we are.
The final incident I want to share is one that happened only about a couple years ago. This one gave me three immediate emotions at one time. I felt laughter, though I did not give away any outward emotion whatsoever. I felt real anger, as that "all right, that’s it", even for little kids. And, I also had one of the biggest surprises ever of my whole life! I can tell you I never had this kind of thing ever enter my thoughts as a possibility of any kind. Goes to show you, you DO never know!
For a third time the character is Iggy. The suit is now mine that I’ve had for many years now. The other one had been the company’s that I had been working for. They are similar but still a bit different from each other. The main difference is the lower body leggings. As said, the old ones were orange tights with cloth ringlets you put on over them. Three on each leg. Mine now are made of a short pile, also a fluorescent orange color, plush fake fur with the ringlets a part of the whole body stocking. It has an elastic waist so they’re much like a pair of pants, only skin tight and not loose like a real pair of pants would be. The bottom of the body is open and rounded for slipping over your head to put on just like the other one had been.
Iggy and the kids were playing games with a parachute at a very large kid’s birthday party at about four in the afternoon. As parties go, a count of around fifteen or so is a pretty standard sized number of kids. This party had a number closer to twenty-five if not maybe a few more. All the kids and Iggy were holding the parachute by its little handles along it’s edge and we were shaking the parachute to make a little stuffed toy bunny rabbit go down the hole that’s there in the center of the parachute. This is something I do at nearly every birthday party I do. So it’s true, I’ve done this “thousands of times”, literally.
As Iggy is standing there he feels a kid crawl between his legs. That has happened many times, no surprise there. Little kids being little kids. Iggy doesn’t even give it a second thought really. But then, poor Iggy does have something happen that even to this day he cannot believe that it happened but it did.
Iggy was groped! Plain and simple, no bones about it, no there’s no mistake or misunderstanding about it. The kid's hand reached up and “copped a feel of Iggy’s “jewels”. Yes they were covered by the orange fur, but still. The sweet and definitely innocent bird was just “violated”! As we were shaking the parachute it was fairly easy to catch a glimpse of the “offender” as we played the game with no apparent reaction from me. It was a boy of I’d say of eight or nine years of age. I'll allow him the innocence of childhood still, but, he was old enough to know exactly what he was doing.
So, in a split second I have to decide what the heck to do. Say something, say nothing or say something away from everybody later, heck. I don’t know? I decide that to say anything would literally open up the proverbial “can of worms” that could so easily backfire and end up “biting me in the ass” so I say nothing, do nothing. I go through the entire party with no further incidents. I guess the boy’s curiosity had been satisfied. I did tell my agent who sent me out on the show what had happened. She felt that what I did, or didn’t do really, was probably the best course to have gone.
What else can I say? That IS one for the books! As stated at the start of this little tale, “…besides, you knew the job was dangerous when you took it!”
Semper Furry! –Me Furry
MY FURRY TALES--STORIES FROM 20 YEARS IN THE FUR! #13
Posted 16 years agoI'm reasonably sure that you've heard this old adage sometime over your lifetime. "And they pay me to do this!" My career of being a costume character is, at heart, almost always that to begin with. Summer heat does take it's toll. At Christmas, I definitely burn the proverbial candle at both ends to make maximum income for the season. But, sometimes, it goes into a kind of furry nirvana. This is a case in point from February 19th of this year, '07.
The party was at the Santa Monica Pier carousel. I've been there a few times over the years. Each experience has been fun for me as I do love carousels to begin with. I have had several rides on it each time I've been there. Unfortunately, I haven't always been able to ride a actual horse on it. Sometimes having to settle for the "sleigh seats" instead. It's my darn character feet. They're generally just too big. I could get up if I really tried but I'd not want to take a major risk in either falling or unmasking myself by accident. It's still fun, of course, but I wanna ride the horsey...I wanna ride the horsey!
The birthday girl took me by the hand and we walked over, hand-in-hand, over to the carousel. We had to wait at the little gate entrance there. This, in order, to be let in when the carousel finally stopped it's current ride. She never let go of my hand the entire time walking and waiting. Well, this time, I was able to do it and got on one of the very lowest horses that were the outside ones. In total joy and pure rapture was I, as I rode around and around waving at the parents and kids.
Now, if that wasn't enough, here's the clincher! The dear sweet birthday girl, Alexa was riding in the next row just in front of me. Her father was on the next horse to the left of her. Dad started "it" off by starting to sing "Yankee Doodle". But in a "la-la-la" wordless way. Alexa added her voice and then so did I. So as we kept going around and around on the carousel riding our ponies, we were "la-la-la" singing out the song. Over and over. It was both surreal and SO much good fun!
When the carousel finally stopped it's run we all got off and went back to the one side of the carousel room where they have the parties at. The carousel is the main focus, so although the kids are happy to see us, they are somewhat all over the place. The party kids get wristbands that allow them endless rides on the carousel. This, by the way, was my good friend's first gig ever as a secondary character to my main one. He's known about me doing them and asked if he could be able to do it too. He did a great job for a first effort. He has the talent to be a costumed character himself.
In a couple of minutes after I returned from my carousel ride, he was "escorted", as I was, by the kids for his ride. He too, felt the love that we were immersed in. He came out after the party on one of those natural highs that last for even days after. Been there, done that, had the joy. Many times!
Semper Furry! --Me Furry
The party was at the Santa Monica Pier carousel. I've been there a few times over the years. Each experience has been fun for me as I do love carousels to begin with. I have had several rides on it each time I've been there. Unfortunately, I haven't always been able to ride a actual horse on it. Sometimes having to settle for the "sleigh seats" instead. It's my darn character feet. They're generally just too big. I could get up if I really tried but I'd not want to take a major risk in either falling or unmasking myself by accident. It's still fun, of course, but I wanna ride the horsey...I wanna ride the horsey!
The birthday girl took me by the hand and we walked over, hand-in-hand, over to the carousel. We had to wait at the little gate entrance there. This, in order, to be let in when the carousel finally stopped it's current ride. She never let go of my hand the entire time walking and waiting. Well, this time, I was able to do it and got on one of the very lowest horses that were the outside ones. In total joy and pure rapture was I, as I rode around and around waving at the parents and kids.
Now, if that wasn't enough, here's the clincher! The dear sweet birthday girl, Alexa was riding in the next row just in front of me. Her father was on the next horse to the left of her. Dad started "it" off by starting to sing "Yankee Doodle". But in a "la-la-la" wordless way. Alexa added her voice and then so did I. So as we kept going around and around on the carousel riding our ponies, we were "la-la-la" singing out the song. Over and over. It was both surreal and SO much good fun!
When the carousel finally stopped it's run we all got off and went back to the one side of the carousel room where they have the parties at. The carousel is the main focus, so although the kids are happy to see us, they are somewhat all over the place. The party kids get wristbands that allow them endless rides on the carousel. This, by the way, was my good friend's first gig ever as a secondary character to my main one. He's known about me doing them and asked if he could be able to do it too. He did a great job for a first effort. He has the talent to be a costumed character himself.
In a couple of minutes after I returned from my carousel ride, he was "escorted", as I was, by the kids for his ride. He too, felt the love that we were immersed in. He came out after the party on one of those natural highs that last for even days after. Been there, done that, had the joy. Many times!
Semper Furry! --Me Furry
MY FURRY TALES--STORIES FROM 20 YEARS IN THE FUR! #12
Posted 16 years ago("They really should'a named them Donkey one, two and three. After all I WAS the star......" )
You know, sometimes I even surprise myself. I know I am motivated far and beyond the bounds of normalcy in my chosen profession. In honest and serious humility, I know I am one of the best at what I do. Most that I meet, that do the same thing, are only in it for the money. Or, for the job flexibility. There's lots of college students. Especially in the summer. But, please believe me, it's so easy to tell who's who. There's "a guy (or girl) in the suit", then, there's me! My little example, if I may...
At a Halloween kid's carnival put on for some developmentally disabled kids a few years ago I was "Donkey" with "Shrek". Our job was a hour and a half walk around. Mixing and mingling with all that were there. Also had a little area off to one side for photo opportunities as well. We mainly stayed together, but sometimes, did separate for a little bit at a time. I, being Donkey, and underline "BEING", was full of stuff and nonsense. I would stick my muzzle in anywhere and everywhere. I'd make a unasked for comment on things that I overheard. People should know my opinion. Shouldn't they? Of course they should. Donkey's opinions are quite important. At least to Donkey.
So, as not that great a surprise, I had someone not share in my (Donkey's) self love of myself. I get a slight tap on my furry shoulder from behind. I turn around to see a nine year old girl somewhat glaring at me with some displeasure. Before I could speak, she made her comment.
"You know, you're annoying!" To which I instantly replied....
"Yea! I know! I's cute. I's adorable! And I's annoying! Well, two out of three ain't bad I always say!"
The little girl was exasperated that Donkey didn't "get" it. But of course, Donkey would never "get" it. He's Donkey! She turned and walked away in some frustration. As I turn and also walk away. I mutter out loud, to no one in particular, another "Donkey" self-centered thought.
"I'm the nicest person I know......"
Honest to goodness, It just all came to me. There was no preplanned thought or any kind of line in mind. "When you're good, you're good!" Is that me or Donkey? I'll let you decide.
Semper Furry! --Me Furry
You know, sometimes I even surprise myself. I know I am motivated far and beyond the bounds of normalcy in my chosen profession. In honest and serious humility, I know I am one of the best at what I do. Most that I meet, that do the same thing, are only in it for the money. Or, for the job flexibility. There's lots of college students. Especially in the summer. But, please believe me, it's so easy to tell who's who. There's "a guy (or girl) in the suit", then, there's me! My little example, if I may...
At a Halloween kid's carnival put on for some developmentally disabled kids a few years ago I was "Donkey" with "Shrek". Our job was a hour and a half walk around. Mixing and mingling with all that were there. Also had a little area off to one side for photo opportunities as well. We mainly stayed together, but sometimes, did separate for a little bit at a time. I, being Donkey, and underline "BEING", was full of stuff and nonsense. I would stick my muzzle in anywhere and everywhere. I'd make a unasked for comment on things that I overheard. People should know my opinion. Shouldn't they? Of course they should. Donkey's opinions are quite important. At least to Donkey.
So, as not that great a surprise, I had someone not share in my (Donkey's) self love of myself. I get a slight tap on my furry shoulder from behind. I turn around to see a nine year old girl somewhat glaring at me with some displeasure. Before I could speak, she made her comment.
"You know, you're annoying!" To which I instantly replied....
"Yea! I know! I's cute. I's adorable! And I's annoying! Well, two out of three ain't bad I always say!"
The little girl was exasperated that Donkey didn't "get" it. But of course, Donkey would never "get" it. He's Donkey! She turned and walked away in some frustration. As I turn and also walk away. I mutter out loud, to no one in particular, another "Donkey" self-centered thought.
"I'm the nicest person I know......"
Honest to goodness, It just all came to me. There was no preplanned thought or any kind of line in mind. "When you're good, you're good!" Is that me or Donkey? I'll let you decide.
Semper Furry! --Me Furry
MY FURRY TALES--STORIES FROM 20 YEARS IN THE FUR! #11
Posted 16 years ago(SO MANY SATISFIED "CUSTOMERS"!)
It was Santa that started all this some more than twenty-four years ago. He comes around every year and continues to bring joy to one and all each Christmas season. So many shows and visits. So many sweet and wonderful memories. But, even with all those glorious memories accumulating from each passing year, a few visits truly stand out. This then, is one of them.
It's Christmas eve. The time is late for excited little children but not really that late for grown-ups. Probably around nine o'clock or a bit later. Santa is very busy as would be expected for this is "his" night. What in many ways he lives for. He's probably as excited and as happy as the children he's coming to visit. The visits have to be somewhat short as there's so many to see that night. But Santa loves to visit and say hi to his fans if they're still up. Maybe sing a couple of Christmas songs to boot! By the way, if anybody asks, it's by far and away "Jingle Bells" as the number one requested song to sing. Followed, of course, wouldn't you know, by "Rudolph".
Most of the time the children are so excited waiting for Santa that they're still up! Many times quite late. This visit though, the children have already gone to bed and are asleep. Santa finds out a little later, that they've been asleep for about a half an hour before he arrived. Santa arrives and gets out of his sleigh. He adjusts himself a little bit so he looks picture-perfect. One never knows when a camera may capture a special and precious moment in time. He gets his sack, or Santa bag if you prefer, and loads it with the appropriate gifts and toys for this house. Seeing things rather dim and quiet, Santa quietly walks into the living room where the Christmas tree is. The tree is awash with it's multicolor lights. The tree's lights are the sole light of the room. Honest-to-goodness, you can literally feel Christmas right now.
Like the classic poem, he goes straight to his work of putting the toys under the tree. He doesn't just drop them down. Oh, no! He lovingly takes each wrapped gift out of his sack and puts it gently at the base of the tree. There even a little plastic green wheelbarrow that gets it's place under the tree. Dad sees Santa and goes to wake up the two boys. They peek and see Santa and are overjoyed. Santa makes a "big fuss" about them getting up but they can tell he's all "fluff" about it. They all go sit on the couch together. One boy on the end, Santa, then Dad, then the older of the two boys on the other end, sitting next to Dad.
It's a wonderful little visit. The songs are sung together. Santa reminds them to be good all year 'round. Not just cause Christmas is coming, but because it's the right and proper thing to do. The older boy is at the age where he starts to doubt things and asks Santa some very important questions about how he does it all. Santa, being Santa, has an answer for everything. The little boy's questions have been asked by so many, for so many times. But Santa's answers are concise and sensible. It's clear from his expression that Santa's answers have comforted him. The boy is all smiles! Dad leans over to whisper in Santa's ear very softly. "Atta boy, Santa! We got him for at least another year."
If only the magic of Christmas and Santa could last all the year long....
Semper Furry! --Me Furry
It was Santa that started all this some more than twenty-four years ago. He comes around every year and continues to bring joy to one and all each Christmas season. So many shows and visits. So many sweet and wonderful memories. But, even with all those glorious memories accumulating from each passing year, a few visits truly stand out. This then, is one of them.
It's Christmas eve. The time is late for excited little children but not really that late for grown-ups. Probably around nine o'clock or a bit later. Santa is very busy as would be expected for this is "his" night. What in many ways he lives for. He's probably as excited and as happy as the children he's coming to visit. The visits have to be somewhat short as there's so many to see that night. But Santa loves to visit and say hi to his fans if they're still up. Maybe sing a couple of Christmas songs to boot! By the way, if anybody asks, it's by far and away "Jingle Bells" as the number one requested song to sing. Followed, of course, wouldn't you know, by "Rudolph".
Most of the time the children are so excited waiting for Santa that they're still up! Many times quite late. This visit though, the children have already gone to bed and are asleep. Santa finds out a little later, that they've been asleep for about a half an hour before he arrived. Santa arrives and gets out of his sleigh. He adjusts himself a little bit so he looks picture-perfect. One never knows when a camera may capture a special and precious moment in time. He gets his sack, or Santa bag if you prefer, and loads it with the appropriate gifts and toys for this house. Seeing things rather dim and quiet, Santa quietly walks into the living room where the Christmas tree is. The tree is awash with it's multicolor lights. The tree's lights are the sole light of the room. Honest-to-goodness, you can literally feel Christmas right now.
Like the classic poem, he goes straight to his work of putting the toys under the tree. He doesn't just drop them down. Oh, no! He lovingly takes each wrapped gift out of his sack and puts it gently at the base of the tree. There even a little plastic green wheelbarrow that gets it's place under the tree. Dad sees Santa and goes to wake up the two boys. They peek and see Santa and are overjoyed. Santa makes a "big fuss" about them getting up but they can tell he's all "fluff" about it. They all go sit on the couch together. One boy on the end, Santa, then Dad, then the older of the two boys on the other end, sitting next to Dad.
It's a wonderful little visit. The songs are sung together. Santa reminds them to be good all year 'round. Not just cause Christmas is coming, but because it's the right and proper thing to do. The older boy is at the age where he starts to doubt things and asks Santa some very important questions about how he does it all. Santa, being Santa, has an answer for everything. The little boy's questions have been asked by so many, for so many times. But Santa's answers are concise and sensible. It's clear from his expression that Santa's answers have comforted him. The boy is all smiles! Dad leans over to whisper in Santa's ear very softly. "Atta boy, Santa! We got him for at least another year."
If only the magic of Christmas and Santa could last all the year long....
Semper Furry! --Me Furry
MY FURRY TALES--STORIES FROM 20 YEARS IN THE FUR! #10
Posted 16 years ago(ROWLLLLL!)
One thing that is somewhat frustrating to me is that I can't do so many things that my characters are famous for. Animation allows one a great freedom to escape the constraints of reality. Being enclosed and surrounded by fur is a wonderful feeling but at the same time quite restrictive. Oh, how I would love to jump into the arms of Shaggy when I'm Scooby Doo. Yes, and at 240 pounds, I would surely maim or kill him in the process. Sigh!
But! There was one occasion that afforded me the opportunity to do something I always wanted to do. I know that what we did was the virtual hit of the party we were at. I had help in accomplishing this by a fellow performer and friend, John. He was a little hesitant at doing it at first, thinking he might accidentally hurt me in the process. I reassured him that knowing he was going to to this was what made it so safe. I wouldn't have wanted him to just do it unexpectedly. That could catch me off guard and pose possible injury.
We drove separately to meet at the home in Pacific Palisades. We were to be "Hunny Bear" and "Tiger". As requested by the client they wanted Tiger to come in first, followed by Hunny Bear about five minutes later. That's what gave me my idea. Had we walked in together I don't think it would have worked as well as it did. As you all should know, Tiger does like to pounce a lot. Especially on his good friend, Hunny Bear! So that's what we decided we'd do. John was Tiger, I was Hunny Bear. I told him to let me arrive and kneel down on the ground to meet all the little kids of the party. They were two, three and some four-year old kids. I told him I would be expecting his pounce and would be "ready" for it. I would fall backwards right onto my back and utter an "Oh, bother!".
You had to be there! It was perfect! I would like to have been standing when hit but felt that might be too dangerous. Being on my knees kept me close to the ground. I simply fell over. Even did a little "oof" for extra effect. So here I am, spread eagle, with my tiger friend bent over me. "Hi there, buddy bear!" All who saw, kids and adults, loved it. May I add in some modesty that we also got a $60 tip each for that show! Don't know if was that alone. Or, for that matter, if it made any difference at all in getting that generous tip. But, I can assure you, a $60 dollar tip is highly unusual. Remember too, that was for each of us. That makes it even the more special! This was another one of those great moments that I've had over the years that I truly felt so "real"!
Semper Furry! --Me Furry
One thing that is somewhat frustrating to me is that I can't do so many things that my characters are famous for. Animation allows one a great freedom to escape the constraints of reality. Being enclosed and surrounded by fur is a wonderful feeling but at the same time quite restrictive. Oh, how I would love to jump into the arms of Shaggy when I'm Scooby Doo. Yes, and at 240 pounds, I would surely maim or kill him in the process. Sigh!
But! There was one occasion that afforded me the opportunity to do something I always wanted to do. I know that what we did was the virtual hit of the party we were at. I had help in accomplishing this by a fellow performer and friend, John. He was a little hesitant at doing it at first, thinking he might accidentally hurt me in the process. I reassured him that knowing he was going to to this was what made it so safe. I wouldn't have wanted him to just do it unexpectedly. That could catch me off guard and pose possible injury.
We drove separately to meet at the home in Pacific Palisades. We were to be "Hunny Bear" and "Tiger". As requested by the client they wanted Tiger to come in first, followed by Hunny Bear about five minutes later. That's what gave me my idea. Had we walked in together I don't think it would have worked as well as it did. As you all should know, Tiger does like to pounce a lot. Especially on his good friend, Hunny Bear! So that's what we decided we'd do. John was Tiger, I was Hunny Bear. I told him to let me arrive and kneel down on the ground to meet all the little kids of the party. They were two, three and some four-year old kids. I told him I would be expecting his pounce and would be "ready" for it. I would fall backwards right onto my back and utter an "Oh, bother!".
You had to be there! It was perfect! I would like to have been standing when hit but felt that might be too dangerous. Being on my knees kept me close to the ground. I simply fell over. Even did a little "oof" for extra effect. So here I am, spread eagle, with my tiger friend bent over me. "Hi there, buddy bear!" All who saw, kids and adults, loved it. May I add in some modesty that we also got a $60 tip each for that show! Don't know if was that alone. Or, for that matter, if it made any difference at all in getting that generous tip. But, I can assure you, a $60 dollar tip is highly unusual. Remember too, that was for each of us. That makes it even the more special! This was another one of those great moments that I've had over the years that I truly felt so "real"!
Semper Furry! --Me Furry
MY FURRY TALES--STORIES FROM 20 YEARS IN THE FUR! #9
Posted 16 years ago(YES! SANTA KNOWS AND SANTA CARES!)
It was the Christmas season after 9/11. Our troops were in Afghanistan. I was then doing my usual Santa duties, Monday through Friday, at the local mall that is fairly close to where I live in the San Gabriel valley. It was a weekday afternoon, probably about midway through the day. I'm sitting there, on my "throne", when a mother and a boy of about seven years of age come up together to see Santa.
The boy really stands out as he's wearing an obviously brand new army camouflage uniform with cap, no less. He does look sharp! I can tell this is the "real McCoy" too. It's obviously not a costume either. They both say hello and we engage in the usual Christmas-time conversation.
I ask the boy about his uniform. "Is that new? It sure looks like it." The boy answers yes. I continue, "I suppose that might mean your dad's in the Army?" To which he smiles and answers.
"Yep!" So, I now inquire back.
"Is he here or over there?" The boy, still smiling with pride, answers me quickly and firmly.
"Over there!" Mom also adds that dad had just fairly recently shipped out. That dad was so very proud of his son and vice-versa! So I say to the both of them to please sit down with me for a few more moments before they would leave as I have something very important to say to them. They had been standing in front of me up until then. The little boy sat on my left side, while mom sat on my right.
"Now, Santa knows it can be very hard to communicate and talk with people in this situation, being so far away and all. But I want you to promise Santa that the very next time you talk with him, if that's possible, or for the next time you write him, to be sure to tell him that Santa says thank you for what he and all the other soldiers are doing! Santa is all about kindness, love and gifts. But Santa also knows that there are some very bad people out there in the world that can do really terrible things to others without a moment of second thought. Your dad, in his own small way, is helping us stop those bad people and stopping them from doing even more bad things. He's helping me, Santa, you, your mom, and everyone else. I want him to know that Santa appreciates what he's doing! I want you to be sure to thank him for me--please. You promise now, ok?"
With a smile that would do Christmas morning proud, he is grinning from ear to ear and nods his head and says in a sharp clear voice, "Yes!" Mom, I could see was more than a little misty-eyed. We said our good-byes. I gave the boy a big bear hug which he happily was returning at the same time. I also gave mom a light hug as well. As she hugged me back she said "Thank you". To which I said softly back into her ear, "And I meant EVERY word; God Bless!"
I am a firm believer in the "It's A Wonderful Life" philosophy. I sincerely try to live it every day. That wonderful concept and it's moral that's so beautifully stated by that classic movie with Jimmy Stewart. That we may never know of what things that might come from or transpire from even the most simplest and littlest things that we may do for others. Who knows, the simplest good deed can "snowball" into something so much more, even many years in the future. I do know one thing for sure. That at least for that single sweet moment in time, I felt SO good, the boy felt SO good and mom felt SO good. That's a pretty darn "good" start. At least for now!
Semper Furry! --Me Furry
It was the Christmas season after 9/11. Our troops were in Afghanistan. I was then doing my usual Santa duties, Monday through Friday, at the local mall that is fairly close to where I live in the San Gabriel valley. It was a weekday afternoon, probably about midway through the day. I'm sitting there, on my "throne", when a mother and a boy of about seven years of age come up together to see Santa.
The boy really stands out as he's wearing an obviously brand new army camouflage uniform with cap, no less. He does look sharp! I can tell this is the "real McCoy" too. It's obviously not a costume either. They both say hello and we engage in the usual Christmas-time conversation.
I ask the boy about his uniform. "Is that new? It sure looks like it." The boy answers yes. I continue, "I suppose that might mean your dad's in the Army?" To which he smiles and answers.
"Yep!" So, I now inquire back.
"Is he here or over there?" The boy, still smiling with pride, answers me quickly and firmly.
"Over there!" Mom also adds that dad had just fairly recently shipped out. That dad was so very proud of his son and vice-versa! So I say to the both of them to please sit down with me for a few more moments before they would leave as I have something very important to say to them. They had been standing in front of me up until then. The little boy sat on my left side, while mom sat on my right.
"Now, Santa knows it can be very hard to communicate and talk with people in this situation, being so far away and all. But I want you to promise Santa that the very next time you talk with him, if that's possible, or for the next time you write him, to be sure to tell him that Santa says thank you for what he and all the other soldiers are doing! Santa is all about kindness, love and gifts. But Santa also knows that there are some very bad people out there in the world that can do really terrible things to others without a moment of second thought. Your dad, in his own small way, is helping us stop those bad people and stopping them from doing even more bad things. He's helping me, Santa, you, your mom, and everyone else. I want him to know that Santa appreciates what he's doing! I want you to be sure to thank him for me--please. You promise now, ok?"
With a smile that would do Christmas morning proud, he is grinning from ear to ear and nods his head and says in a sharp clear voice, "Yes!" Mom, I could see was more than a little misty-eyed. We said our good-byes. I gave the boy a big bear hug which he happily was returning at the same time. I also gave mom a light hug as well. As she hugged me back she said "Thank you". To which I said softly back into her ear, "And I meant EVERY word; God Bless!"
I am a firm believer in the "It's A Wonderful Life" philosophy. I sincerely try to live it every day. That wonderful concept and it's moral that's so beautifully stated by that classic movie with Jimmy Stewart. That we may never know of what things that might come from or transpire from even the most simplest and littlest things that we may do for others. Who knows, the simplest good deed can "snowball" into something so much more, even many years in the future. I do know one thing for sure. That at least for that single sweet moment in time, I felt SO good, the boy felt SO good and mom felt SO good. That's a pretty darn "good" start. At least for now!
Semper Furry! --Me Furry
MY FURRY TALES--STORIES FROM 20 YEARS IN THE FUR! #8
Posted 16 years ago" 'RI 'RAD 'RU 'RAKE 'RIT RIGHT!"
I enjoy doing all of my furry characters. But, because of their different "personalities", some are more extroverted than others. When I'm in the fur, I'm always that character, no matter what. One furry friend that I always have a good time with is my Dobi Dane, aka "Scooby Doo". Kimba the white lion is unquestionably number one in my heart. But, Scooby is most definitely number two. Of course, the fact that I grew up with him doesn't hurt either, I'm quite sure. That's a major part of it. Not only for me, but for both the kids and adults I entertain. The kids know "me" from right now. Mom and dad also know "me" from their own childhood. And maybe, given Scooby's been around for over thirty-something years, even grandma and grandpa might have grown up with that lovable dogie! It was because of that deep multi-generational bond that I did something above and beyond the call of duty. But I did so with the utmost pleasure and enjoyment one could ever have.
The birthday party was for a little boy, who, I was told, absolutely adored Scooby. That was true, as I found out, when I arrived at the party. But, once getting there, it turned out that mom had as big, or a bigger "crush" on Scooby as did the birthday boy. She was truly in "heaven" while I was there!
Needless to say we all had a great time! I swear to you I think mom had the most fun of everyone there. I "played" to everyone there at the party, but mom was simply the best. She also took oodles of pictures throughout the whole party. She did this, mind you, while participating in all of our activities as well!
A day or so after the show I get a call from the agent who sent me, asking me that if by chance, some little kid might have put her camera in my stuff during the party? As a quick aside, this can and does happen. The little kids of around two years of age are like little "kleptos", who pick things up, take them God knows where, and then just drop them off. I always have to triple-check all my stuff before I leave any party.
Well, sadly, my answer to the question was no, no camera. It seems someone at her party took her camera. Why, for the life of me, I don't know why anyone would do that. It was a disposable camera, so it couldn't been because of value of the camera itself. Those pictures in that camera couldn't mean much, if anything, to anyone else but mom and birthday boy. Some people, go figure!
So with the thought of that dastardly deed committed by someone of so little heart, I offered to come out at a time convenient to them for a special photo shoot. It would never make up for the true loss of all the party photos. I knew that. But, I thought at least they could make up some of the tragic loss by taking and having a few special one-on-one pictures with me.
The idea bothered me so, that I wanted to do something else to show mom that there are good people out there after all. I went to the local Warner Brothers Studio store and looked around the store for a little gift idea. The WB stores were still around then, this was before they all shut down. Well, there on a shelf, was the perfect and appropriate gift! A little plush and furry Scooby sitting, holding a padded 5x7 photo frame. I purchased it immediately and took it with me to the photo shoot.
I had put it in a little gift bag with tissue paper to hide it inside. I walked in with it and put it down and proceeded to take our pictures. It was so much fun! I even got what I would call a couple of "classic" Scooby poses in the mix as well. The best one in particular, was Scooby, lying down on the carpet on his stomach, with birthday boy sitting upon my back! We finished the "shoot" and just before I left, I gave him the gift.
I said: " 'Ryme 'rorry 'rat 'romeone 'rook 'rur 'ramera. 'Ry 'rope 'ris 'rinda 'rakes 'rup 'ror 'rit!"
I said my goodbyes and left. Several days later I receive in the mail, forwarded from the agent who had received it, a very kind thank you letter from mom. It it she said she cried after I left at the nice thing I had done. The gift was so dear to her. Now, I do so know that there are both good tears and the bad, sad tears. These, I know were only the good kind. So I don't mind at all that I was the one responsible for causing them. One good deed at a time. One person at a time. One soul at a time. It shall be done....
Semper Furry! --Me Furry
I enjoy doing all of my furry characters. But, because of their different "personalities", some are more extroverted than others. When I'm in the fur, I'm always that character, no matter what. One furry friend that I always have a good time with is my Dobi Dane, aka "Scooby Doo". Kimba the white lion is unquestionably number one in my heart. But, Scooby is most definitely number two. Of course, the fact that I grew up with him doesn't hurt either, I'm quite sure. That's a major part of it. Not only for me, but for both the kids and adults I entertain. The kids know "me" from right now. Mom and dad also know "me" from their own childhood. And maybe, given Scooby's been around for over thirty-something years, even grandma and grandpa might have grown up with that lovable dogie! It was because of that deep multi-generational bond that I did something above and beyond the call of duty. But I did so with the utmost pleasure and enjoyment one could ever have.
The birthday party was for a little boy, who, I was told, absolutely adored Scooby. That was true, as I found out, when I arrived at the party. But, once getting there, it turned out that mom had as big, or a bigger "crush" on Scooby as did the birthday boy. She was truly in "heaven" while I was there!
Needless to say we all had a great time! I swear to you I think mom had the most fun of everyone there. I "played" to everyone there at the party, but mom was simply the best. She also took oodles of pictures throughout the whole party. She did this, mind you, while participating in all of our activities as well!
A day or so after the show I get a call from the agent who sent me, asking me that if by chance, some little kid might have put her camera in my stuff during the party? As a quick aside, this can and does happen. The little kids of around two years of age are like little "kleptos", who pick things up, take them God knows where, and then just drop them off. I always have to triple-check all my stuff before I leave any party.
Well, sadly, my answer to the question was no, no camera. It seems someone at her party took her camera. Why, for the life of me, I don't know why anyone would do that. It was a disposable camera, so it couldn't been because of value of the camera itself. Those pictures in that camera couldn't mean much, if anything, to anyone else but mom and birthday boy. Some people, go figure!
So with the thought of that dastardly deed committed by someone of so little heart, I offered to come out at a time convenient to them for a special photo shoot. It would never make up for the true loss of all the party photos. I knew that. But, I thought at least they could make up some of the tragic loss by taking and having a few special one-on-one pictures with me.
The idea bothered me so, that I wanted to do something else to show mom that there are good people out there after all. I went to the local Warner Brothers Studio store and looked around the store for a little gift idea. The WB stores were still around then, this was before they all shut down. Well, there on a shelf, was the perfect and appropriate gift! A little plush and furry Scooby sitting, holding a padded 5x7 photo frame. I purchased it immediately and took it with me to the photo shoot.
I had put it in a little gift bag with tissue paper to hide it inside. I walked in with it and put it down and proceeded to take our pictures. It was so much fun! I even got what I would call a couple of "classic" Scooby poses in the mix as well. The best one in particular, was Scooby, lying down on the carpet on his stomach, with birthday boy sitting upon my back! We finished the "shoot" and just before I left, I gave him the gift.
I said: " 'Ryme 'rorry 'rat 'romeone 'rook 'rur 'ramera. 'Ry 'rope 'ris 'rinda 'rakes 'rup 'ror 'rit!"
I said my goodbyes and left. Several days later I receive in the mail, forwarded from the agent who had received it, a very kind thank you letter from mom. It it she said she cried after I left at the nice thing I had done. The gift was so dear to her. Now, I do so know that there are both good tears and the bad, sad tears. These, I know were only the good kind. So I don't mind at all that I was the one responsible for causing them. One good deed at a time. One person at a time. One soul at a time. It shall be done....
Semper Furry! --Me Furry
MY FURRY TALES--STORIES FROM 20 YEARS IN THE FUR! #7
Posted 16 years ago(BLACK AND WHITE GOES WITH EVERYTHING SO NICE)
This isn't a long story, but it's a funny one. It was during the 2005 Christmas season. It's one of those accidental remarks that just make you smile. Or, in particular for me, made me laugh my furry butt off inside my fursuit!
When every December comes along, I mainly do Santa right though Christmas eve and Christmas day. However, the other characters still do go out. As there are still many kid's birthdays In December too, you know. That was the case for this particular weekend afternoon.
It was Saturday, the 17th. I had already done two Santa shows earlier. One from 11am to 12 noon and another from 1pm to 2pm. My third show was to be my Zoe Zebra "playing" "Marty" from the Madagascar movie from 3pm to 4pm. Then, there were two more Santa shows still to be done after that.
It was a typical kids birthday party show. You might say textbook-like in it's operation. Nothing different, unusual or out of the ordinary. I finished up and packed up my things. I bring with me a parachute, a rope for limbo, a tackle box that holds my paints, bubble buckets that the kids can use to blow their own bubbles and a boom box for music. I say my good byes, go through the house and wait just outside the front door to collect a remaining balance for the cost of the show.
The father comes out and pays me and as I accept the money and get ready to leave he smiles and wishes me a "Happy Kwanzaa"!
Ok now, think about it--
What am I--a zebra.
Where do I come from-- Africa.
What other Christmas-time holiday is celebrated by Africans & African-Americans----Kwanzaa!
Makes sense now, doesn't it?
I do have to admit that it had never entered or crossed my mind at the time until he said it. He, of course, couldn't see me under the black and white striped fur. But after about second and a half of the ol' brain "clicking" into gear and realizing what he had just said, I said back in my "Marty" voice: "Why thank ya', thank ya' so very much! That's so nice of yew!" I offered my hoof in a "handshake" and turned around to leave. As I was walking back to my car that was parked around the corner from where the house was, I was laughing long and hard out loud to myself! I just couldn't help but laugh. I was seriously laughing my furry little zebra butt off! And they say kids say the darnedest things...
Semper Furry! --Me Furry
This isn't a long story, but it's a funny one. It was during the 2005 Christmas season. It's one of those accidental remarks that just make you smile. Or, in particular for me, made me laugh my furry butt off inside my fursuit!
When every December comes along, I mainly do Santa right though Christmas eve and Christmas day. However, the other characters still do go out. As there are still many kid's birthdays In December too, you know. That was the case for this particular weekend afternoon.
It was Saturday, the 17th. I had already done two Santa shows earlier. One from 11am to 12 noon and another from 1pm to 2pm. My third show was to be my Zoe Zebra "playing" "Marty" from the Madagascar movie from 3pm to 4pm. Then, there were two more Santa shows still to be done after that.
It was a typical kids birthday party show. You might say textbook-like in it's operation. Nothing different, unusual or out of the ordinary. I finished up and packed up my things. I bring with me a parachute, a rope for limbo, a tackle box that holds my paints, bubble buckets that the kids can use to blow their own bubbles and a boom box for music. I say my good byes, go through the house and wait just outside the front door to collect a remaining balance for the cost of the show.
The father comes out and pays me and as I accept the money and get ready to leave he smiles and wishes me a "Happy Kwanzaa"!
Ok now, think about it--
What am I--a zebra.
Where do I come from-- Africa.
What other Christmas-time holiday is celebrated by Africans & African-Americans----Kwanzaa!
Makes sense now, doesn't it?
I do have to admit that it had never entered or crossed my mind at the time until he said it. He, of course, couldn't see me under the black and white striped fur. But after about second and a half of the ol' brain "clicking" into gear and realizing what he had just said, I said back in my "Marty" voice: "Why thank ya', thank ya' so very much! That's so nice of yew!" I offered my hoof in a "handshake" and turned around to leave. As I was walking back to my car that was parked around the corner from where the house was, I was laughing long and hard out loud to myself! I just couldn't help but laugh. I was seriously laughing my furry little zebra butt off! And they say kids say the darnedest things...
Semper Furry! --Me Furry
MY FURRY TALES--STORIES FROM 20 YEARS IN THE FUR #6
Posted 16 years ago(Forgive a silly old man...)
Nobody "bats" a thousand. Well, neither do I. Of all the thousands of shows I've done in over twenty-four years of fursuit performing, I've sadly, missed two gigs. That of course, is still, two too many! But what can you do? "It" happens. Here's my story.
One, was not my fault. I had been "dispatched" and given all the information I need to do the show. That includes name, address, phone numbers, cross street references, approximate number of kids expected at the event, time and date, length of performance and so on. On the appointed evening I went to the address given, which was a school, and nobody was there. No rooms were open. It was closed!
This was a Santa gig and I take "him" and all my characters, very seriously. The children are waiting and expecting their visitor! I called the two phone numbers that I was given. In both cases I only got voice mail. No live person, and not the kind of voice mail where you can forward pages. All I could do was leave my message and my home phone number. I went home to wait for a return call. The show was fairly close by to where I live. I could have gotten back in the "sleigh" quickly and made a return trip.
But a return call never came. I found out later that this Christian private school actually has two locations and the agent gave me the "wrong" one. They were all waiting for Santa at the other school, of which I knew nothing about. I found out days later that the adults "covered" for Santa by saying he had some trouble with the sleigh. God bless 'em for both their kindness and quick thinking.
The only other time it was my accidental boo-boo! I had just finished a Santa gig at a house and went to the car. I still had a Rudolph show in another city a fair drive away. My car was in the shop, as I had had an accident with it a few days before and was driving a rental car. I think it was because I was driving the rental car and not my own car, not being used to it, that led me to do the dumb thing that I did!
When I got to the car I changed out of my Santa coat and pants (I wear shorts underneath) and put on my Rudolph fursuit. Just as I slam the trunk shut, I realize I've left the keys on the trunk floor! Stupid mistake, of course. Don't rub it in, I know, I know. But now, I'm in full fursuit except for the head, which is still in the car, with my human face exposed with my whitened-out eyebrows for Santa.
I couldn't go back to the Santa gig house. I'd blow my cover, so to speak. So I went to a house across the street. It was a couple houses up from where I had been, so as not to be accidentally seen. The man who answered his doorbell saw me and I explained my situation. I asked if I could borrow his phone to call a locksmith to come out and help me. He never let me enter his house. He handed me a wireless phone and a phone book to use right there outside on the porch. It was kind hard to read there as his porch light was not very strong. I will admit I was a "sight" but I really don't think a half-man-half-reindeer is much of a threat! Oh, well.
I called the locksmith. Then, immediately afterward, I also called the client to say of my predicament. They were, of course, not happy, but they grudgingly understood. These things take time and it adds up quickly when you're supposed to be somewhere. After I finally got mobile again I drove to the nearest main street to get to a pay phone. This happened many years ago before cell phones became common. I again called the client and said I was on my way. But they said not to bother. With the time of 45 minutes it would take me to drive there from where I was in addition to the time already past, it was just getting too late. These were little kids who had to go to bed.
Truthfully, even all these years later, I still feel so bad. Truly, this was a dumb accident. Never intentional, of course. And, once it happened, I tried to handle it as best as I could. But as I said earlier, two is STILL two too many!
Semper Furry! --Me Furry
Nobody "bats" a thousand. Well, neither do I. Of all the thousands of shows I've done in over twenty-four years of fursuit performing, I've sadly, missed two gigs. That of course, is still, two too many! But what can you do? "It" happens. Here's my story.
One, was not my fault. I had been "dispatched" and given all the information I need to do the show. That includes name, address, phone numbers, cross street references, approximate number of kids expected at the event, time and date, length of performance and so on. On the appointed evening I went to the address given, which was a school, and nobody was there. No rooms were open. It was closed!
This was a Santa gig and I take "him" and all my characters, very seriously. The children are waiting and expecting their visitor! I called the two phone numbers that I was given. In both cases I only got voice mail. No live person, and not the kind of voice mail where you can forward pages. All I could do was leave my message and my home phone number. I went home to wait for a return call. The show was fairly close by to where I live. I could have gotten back in the "sleigh" quickly and made a return trip.
But a return call never came. I found out later that this Christian private school actually has two locations and the agent gave me the "wrong" one. They were all waiting for Santa at the other school, of which I knew nothing about. I found out days later that the adults "covered" for Santa by saying he had some trouble with the sleigh. God bless 'em for both their kindness and quick thinking.
The only other time it was my accidental boo-boo! I had just finished a Santa gig at a house and went to the car. I still had a Rudolph show in another city a fair drive away. My car was in the shop, as I had had an accident with it a few days before and was driving a rental car. I think it was because I was driving the rental car and not my own car, not being used to it, that led me to do the dumb thing that I did!
When I got to the car I changed out of my Santa coat and pants (I wear shorts underneath) and put on my Rudolph fursuit. Just as I slam the trunk shut, I realize I've left the keys on the trunk floor! Stupid mistake, of course. Don't rub it in, I know, I know. But now, I'm in full fursuit except for the head, which is still in the car, with my human face exposed with my whitened-out eyebrows for Santa.
I couldn't go back to the Santa gig house. I'd blow my cover, so to speak. So I went to a house across the street. It was a couple houses up from where I had been, so as not to be accidentally seen. The man who answered his doorbell saw me and I explained my situation. I asked if I could borrow his phone to call a locksmith to come out and help me. He never let me enter his house. He handed me a wireless phone and a phone book to use right there outside on the porch. It was kind hard to read there as his porch light was not very strong. I will admit I was a "sight" but I really don't think a half-man-half-reindeer is much of a threat! Oh, well.
I called the locksmith. Then, immediately afterward, I also called the client to say of my predicament. They were, of course, not happy, but they grudgingly understood. These things take time and it adds up quickly when you're supposed to be somewhere. After I finally got mobile again I drove to the nearest main street to get to a pay phone. This happened many years ago before cell phones became common. I again called the client and said I was on my way. But they said not to bother. With the time of 45 minutes it would take me to drive there from where I was in addition to the time already past, it was just getting too late. These were little kids who had to go to bed.
Truthfully, even all these years later, I still feel so bad. Truly, this was a dumb accident. Never intentional, of course. And, once it happened, I tried to handle it as best as I could. But as I said earlier, two is STILL two too many!
Semper Furry! --Me Furry
MY FURRY TALES--STORIES FROM 20 YEARS IN THE FUR! #5
Posted 16 years ago(RUDOLPH AGAIN! I JUST GET AROUND A LOT, I GUESS....)
Some memories are bittersweet. I know I did a "good" thing that night. But, I can't help in still feeling somewhat sad at the overall situation, even though it's now all these years later. The names are true because I WAS there!
It was Christmas time of either 1993 or 1994. I can't be sure of the specific year for certain. Rudolph accompanied Santa in a visit to the "Hard Rock Cafe" in Beverly Hills. It was a late weekday afternoon. Just about to turn into the evening.
We, Santa and Rudolph, were there to provide some holiday cheer for a special combination party and presentation of an award to the two Olsen twin girls, Mary Kate and Ashley. There were a fair number of kids there in attendance. The media were there as well. Oh yes, with their total attention directed only to the girls. After our arrival via the front door, Santa did his usual thing, sitting down and did his visiting with the children. Rudolph, meanwhile, went around from table to table to visit and talk with the children. We didn't do any games or the like as there was no room to perform. The restaurant was also still open to the public. It was a scene that I'm quite familiar with. I've encountered it many times over all the years. I've dubbed it, "Organized Chaos".
One little girl just immediately "attached" herself to me and accompanied me everywhere. She talked with Rudolph constantly, sharing things about herself and asking Rudolph so many questions about Santa and the other reindeer. Of course, Rudolph visited with all the children there. However, his little "girlfriend" was almost always next to him the entire time! She often had a hold of my hoofie and even led Rudolph around a bit. Had you been there, you would have seen what we call an "awww" moment, if ever there was one.
In the course of my time there I came to understand that the little girl was actually the little sister of Mary Kate and Ashley! The award was given to Mary Kate and Ashley, and photos were taken by the small horde of photographers that surrounded them during and immediately after the formal presentation. Mom attended to Mary Kate and Ashley almost exclusively. My little "girlfriend" tried to get Mom's attention many times, but was all but unsuccessful. One very brief conversation was seen by me. I must stress the word "brief", and really, the word "conversation" is a quite inaccurate description. The little girl was talked at for only a few seconds, there was no conversation, I can assure you.
I know that while Rudolph was there the little girl was in "heaven"! I'm no expert, but this poor little girl was starving for attention and affection. I can only imagine the home life that she must have faced. God bless the star sisters and that all of their success should not be denied. But little sister most certainly deserved to be more than just background, or worse, simply ignored as I appeared to be vividly seeing that evening.
When it finally came for Santa and Rudolph to take their leave, we said our good-byes and went out the front door. Santa went first, Rudolph followed Santa out only a few steps behind. As Rudolph was about 20 feet outside from the front door the little girl burst out through the door running to hug Rudolph. As she hugged him she was crying--"Rudolph, don't go! Please don't go!" Yes, she was truly crying. Rudolph bent down and gave her the biggest hug he could back. Rudolph said, "I'm sorry, but Santa and I have to go back to the North Pole. I promise we'll be back on Christmas eve and leave you your presents. Please don't cry." Rudolph escorted her back to the front door and let her back in. "I love you!", Rudolph added as well.
So, there's my story. I just shake my head in sadness at what people and stage parents can do, consciously or not, that hurt and possibly scar the children that they claim to love. My little "girlfriend" is now an adult woman. I do so hope she remembers with good thoughts her evening with the reindeer with the shiny nose all those many years ago now. I can tell you the reindeer himself sure does. A dear memory in this one deer's heart....
Semper Furry! --Me Furry
Some memories are bittersweet. I know I did a "good" thing that night. But, I can't help in still feeling somewhat sad at the overall situation, even though it's now all these years later. The names are true because I WAS there!
It was Christmas time of either 1993 or 1994. I can't be sure of the specific year for certain. Rudolph accompanied Santa in a visit to the "Hard Rock Cafe" in Beverly Hills. It was a late weekday afternoon. Just about to turn into the evening.
We, Santa and Rudolph, were there to provide some holiday cheer for a special combination party and presentation of an award to the two Olsen twin girls, Mary Kate and Ashley. There were a fair number of kids there in attendance. The media were there as well. Oh yes, with their total attention directed only to the girls. After our arrival via the front door, Santa did his usual thing, sitting down and did his visiting with the children. Rudolph, meanwhile, went around from table to table to visit and talk with the children. We didn't do any games or the like as there was no room to perform. The restaurant was also still open to the public. It was a scene that I'm quite familiar with. I've encountered it many times over all the years. I've dubbed it, "Organized Chaos".
One little girl just immediately "attached" herself to me and accompanied me everywhere. She talked with Rudolph constantly, sharing things about herself and asking Rudolph so many questions about Santa and the other reindeer. Of course, Rudolph visited with all the children there. However, his little "girlfriend" was almost always next to him the entire time! She often had a hold of my hoofie and even led Rudolph around a bit. Had you been there, you would have seen what we call an "awww" moment, if ever there was one.
In the course of my time there I came to understand that the little girl was actually the little sister of Mary Kate and Ashley! The award was given to Mary Kate and Ashley, and photos were taken by the small horde of photographers that surrounded them during and immediately after the formal presentation. Mom attended to Mary Kate and Ashley almost exclusively. My little "girlfriend" tried to get Mom's attention many times, but was all but unsuccessful. One very brief conversation was seen by me. I must stress the word "brief", and really, the word "conversation" is a quite inaccurate description. The little girl was talked at for only a few seconds, there was no conversation, I can assure you.
I know that while Rudolph was there the little girl was in "heaven"! I'm no expert, but this poor little girl was starving for attention and affection. I can only imagine the home life that she must have faced. God bless the star sisters and that all of their success should not be denied. But little sister most certainly deserved to be more than just background, or worse, simply ignored as I appeared to be vividly seeing that evening.
When it finally came for Santa and Rudolph to take their leave, we said our good-byes and went out the front door. Santa went first, Rudolph followed Santa out only a few steps behind. As Rudolph was about 20 feet outside from the front door the little girl burst out through the door running to hug Rudolph. As she hugged him she was crying--"Rudolph, don't go! Please don't go!" Yes, she was truly crying. Rudolph bent down and gave her the biggest hug he could back. Rudolph said, "I'm sorry, but Santa and I have to go back to the North Pole. I promise we'll be back on Christmas eve and leave you your presents. Please don't cry." Rudolph escorted her back to the front door and let her back in. "I love you!", Rudolph added as well.
So, there's my story. I just shake my head in sadness at what people and stage parents can do, consciously or not, that hurt and possibly scar the children that they claim to love. My little "girlfriend" is now an adult woman. I do so hope she remembers with good thoughts her evening with the reindeer with the shiny nose all those many years ago now. I can tell you the reindeer himself sure does. A dear memory in this one deer's heart....
Semper Furry! --Me Furry
MY FURRY TALES--STORIES FROM 20 YEARS IN THE FUR! #4
Posted 16 years ago (THEY STOLE MY SLEIGH!!!!)
Can art imitate life? Well, in my case it sure as heck can! While watching the "furry" episode of CSI airing just before Halloween of 2003, I had the definite feeling of deja vu. When Sexy Kitty was ushered into the Las Vegas police station along with all the attention he received as he entered, I had to both laugh and cry at the same time. That, my furry friends, is because yours truly (Rudolph), spent several hours in the Clairmont police station. Back some eight years before, on the night of December 9th of 1995.
Now, first off, I was there because my car was stolen while I was inside the Nordstrom's department store at Montclair Plaza doing a two-hour Rudolph walk around. No funny business as in the CSI episode. No, no, no. It had been a full day. I started out early in the morning. Picked up a friend and we drove down to Carlsbad where we did a Breakfast with Santa at the Broadway department store down there in the Carlsbad mall just east of the 5 freeway. My friend also returned my snowman costume which she had borrowed for an event of hers that she had a few days before. I dropped her off at her house but had no extra time to go home myself. I had two regular character shows in the afternoon and was to finish my day with the evening two-hour Rudolph at Nordstrom's.
I got there on time. Dressed at my car, as was my usual procedure. Locked my car and went inside. As it was early December, it was already dark. The job itself, was standard issue and had no problems. I spent the full two hours walking around all the levels of the whole store. Stopping to mix and mingle with customers. When it came time to leave I went out the way I came in, but no car! At first I was confused. I never had a single thought about the car being stolen. I thought I had made a mistake in where I had parked. But after only a few minutes of walking around (as Rudolph) in the parking lot, I realized that it was indeed the place I had parked. And that my car was gone!
I went back inside the store and explained what had happened. They called mall security, which came and could really offer no help. So the Clairmont police were called. They came out and took a report with me (Rudolph) inside the store. Now I was in the proverbial "pickle", as I had nothing on me. No wallet, no money, no identification, no glasses to read properly, only my now useless car keys and home keys. Under the fur I had only swim trunks and a t-shirt. In the car was Santa, snowman, the character costume of the two afternoon shows, my pants, regular shirt, wallet, money, shoes, Santa boots and my show supplies. Plus, sob, sob, two cash tips that I had received that day inside my wallet as well as a just-filled full tank of gasoline!
I had no money to get a cab. The store was about ready to close. The police would NOT take me home. I'm sorry, but this is STILL a bone of contention with me even today. They said they couldn't take a unit out of service for that long. But, my home was only about 8, or very slightly more, miles away. Isn't their job to protect and to serve? Well, I sure do think a helpless reindeer who only needed a ride home would qualify in the "to serve" capacity. Don't you? They would, however, take me to their police station.
What choice did I have? I went to the police station. The officer radioed that he had Rudolph in his car as we drove to his station. That would be only the first of a full night's radio chatter involving Rudolph's prediciment. I was offered, and accepted, a cup of coffee when I arrived. But after that, I just sat in the small lobby waiting for my friends that I had called to come and get me. I'm sitting in full fursuit, with my head sitting on the little end table. The hours of time just crawled by.
When my friends finally came they brought me one of his pants and a shirt to change into, so I could get out of Rudolph. He spoke with one or two officers and they stated I had been the news and story of the night. I'm glad somebody had a good time, I sure didn't. By the time my friends arrived it was approaching 2 o'clock in the morning.
By the way, in case you're wondering, whoever stole my car drove it to Vegas that night. Of course, I don't know exactly when the robbery happened. Although with the resultant time line, I figure they probably took it shortly after I entered the store to start my gig. They stopped in the town of Baker along the way, and used my credit card to buy gas. Then when they got to Vegas at around 4:45 in the morning, they used my phone card to make a call to back east. My car was found in Hesperia a couple of days later a victim of a single-car rollover accident that, sadly, meant the "totaling" of my poor car!
There were no costumes ever found with the car. That's the one thing that still drives me crazy! I wonder whatever did happen to them? Did they simply toss them somewhere? Like in a big trash bin? Did they sell them in Vegas or wherever? I'll never know, but I can't help but wonder.
And they did this to dear, sweet Rudolph! Bah, humbug!
Semper Furry! --Me Furry
Can art imitate life? Well, in my case it sure as heck can! While watching the "furry" episode of CSI airing just before Halloween of 2003, I had the definite feeling of deja vu. When Sexy Kitty was ushered into the Las Vegas police station along with all the attention he received as he entered, I had to both laugh and cry at the same time. That, my furry friends, is because yours truly (Rudolph), spent several hours in the Clairmont police station. Back some eight years before, on the night of December 9th of 1995.
Now, first off, I was there because my car was stolen while I was inside the Nordstrom's department store at Montclair Plaza doing a two-hour Rudolph walk around. No funny business as in the CSI episode. No, no, no. It had been a full day. I started out early in the morning. Picked up a friend and we drove down to Carlsbad where we did a Breakfast with Santa at the Broadway department store down there in the Carlsbad mall just east of the 5 freeway. My friend also returned my snowman costume which she had borrowed for an event of hers that she had a few days before. I dropped her off at her house but had no extra time to go home myself. I had two regular character shows in the afternoon and was to finish my day with the evening two-hour Rudolph at Nordstrom's.
I got there on time. Dressed at my car, as was my usual procedure. Locked my car and went inside. As it was early December, it was already dark. The job itself, was standard issue and had no problems. I spent the full two hours walking around all the levels of the whole store. Stopping to mix and mingle with customers. When it came time to leave I went out the way I came in, but no car! At first I was confused. I never had a single thought about the car being stolen. I thought I had made a mistake in where I had parked. But after only a few minutes of walking around (as Rudolph) in the parking lot, I realized that it was indeed the place I had parked. And that my car was gone!
I went back inside the store and explained what had happened. They called mall security, which came and could really offer no help. So the Clairmont police were called. They came out and took a report with me (Rudolph) inside the store. Now I was in the proverbial "pickle", as I had nothing on me. No wallet, no money, no identification, no glasses to read properly, only my now useless car keys and home keys. Under the fur I had only swim trunks and a t-shirt. In the car was Santa, snowman, the character costume of the two afternoon shows, my pants, regular shirt, wallet, money, shoes, Santa boots and my show supplies. Plus, sob, sob, two cash tips that I had received that day inside my wallet as well as a just-filled full tank of gasoline!
I had no money to get a cab. The store was about ready to close. The police would NOT take me home. I'm sorry, but this is STILL a bone of contention with me even today. They said they couldn't take a unit out of service for that long. But, my home was only about 8, or very slightly more, miles away. Isn't their job to protect and to serve? Well, I sure do think a helpless reindeer who only needed a ride home would qualify in the "to serve" capacity. Don't you? They would, however, take me to their police station.
What choice did I have? I went to the police station. The officer radioed that he had Rudolph in his car as we drove to his station. That would be only the first of a full night's radio chatter involving Rudolph's prediciment. I was offered, and accepted, a cup of coffee when I arrived. But after that, I just sat in the small lobby waiting for my friends that I had called to come and get me. I'm sitting in full fursuit, with my head sitting on the little end table. The hours of time just crawled by.
When my friends finally came they brought me one of his pants and a shirt to change into, so I could get out of Rudolph. He spoke with one or two officers and they stated I had been the news and story of the night. I'm glad somebody had a good time, I sure didn't. By the time my friends arrived it was approaching 2 o'clock in the morning.
By the way, in case you're wondering, whoever stole my car drove it to Vegas that night. Of course, I don't know exactly when the robbery happened. Although with the resultant time line, I figure they probably took it shortly after I entered the store to start my gig. They stopped in the town of Baker along the way, and used my credit card to buy gas. Then when they got to Vegas at around 4:45 in the morning, they used my phone card to make a call to back east. My car was found in Hesperia a couple of days later a victim of a single-car rollover accident that, sadly, meant the "totaling" of my poor car!
There were no costumes ever found with the car. That's the one thing that still drives me crazy! I wonder whatever did happen to them? Did they simply toss them somewhere? Like in a big trash bin? Did they sell them in Vegas or wherever? I'll never know, but I can't help but wonder.
And they did this to dear, sweet Rudolph! Bah, humbug!
Semper Furry! --Me Furry
MY FURRY TALES--STORIES FROM 20 YEARS IN THE FUR! #3
Posted 16 years agoNo one saw this but me. That is both a good thing and a bad thing, as it would have surely made a video moments show. But before I tell you, I have to explain to you all of what happened before that led up to it.
This was the third year of Rudolph going to Coronado island in San Diego for Santa's arrival at the ferry landing shopping center. The previous two years it was just like any other gig. Drove over the Coronado bridge, parked, did the job, finished and then left and drove home.
But this time they wanted to something different. Santa and Rudolph together would arrive via the ferry boat! Great idea and it was super fun. We mingled on the ferry on the way over with all on board. The ship was packed to capacity. Then when we got off at Coronado, we were greeted with a "royal" welcome. Santa went to his assigned place where he could do his lap visits and photos with the children. Rudolph, meanwhile, continued to walk around the whole shopping area.
The job itself was two hours long. However, the ferry ride to and from the island took about 20 minutes each way. Add about another 15 to 20 minutes from leaving my parked car, walking to the ferry, along with a little wait before it departed. Ditto for getting back aboard the ferry after the gig was finished.
So when the job was done I had to return to the mainland via the ferry again. Although it was somewhat late by then, I still had a few kids riding the ferry back with their parents. It was less than eight in number. I do not "break" character in front of people, especially the kids! I never, ever want to accidentally destroy the belief and imagination of any child! It's my code of being and staying "real". With those few children on board I, therefore, couldn't take my head off after what was now approaching four hours in the fur. I stood it, but was in some major discomfort.
So, by the time I got back to the car it was definitely over four hours that I was in the fur. It was about 10:00 at night by then. I'm in a parking lot just at the pier where the ferry docked. The parking lot is around the other side of the building and is not visible either to or from the ferry.
When I took my head off the steam billowed up and out from me! I swear to you that had anyone actually seen this they would have thought I was on fire! The steam was that big and that thick. For all appearances it looked like smoke! I stood there just amazed by my own situation. It also lasted for a good two to three minutes before it shrank in its' size. This was with just taking my head off. I had not yet taken off the body itself. When I did get the body off it did kinda surge again. But nowhere near the size and strength of the original head removal.
In the catch-phrase words of the "Mask"-- I was "smokin'"!
Semper Furry! --Me Furry
This was the third year of Rudolph going to Coronado island in San Diego for Santa's arrival at the ferry landing shopping center. The previous two years it was just like any other gig. Drove over the Coronado bridge, parked, did the job, finished and then left and drove home.
But this time they wanted to something different. Santa and Rudolph together would arrive via the ferry boat! Great idea and it was super fun. We mingled on the ferry on the way over with all on board. The ship was packed to capacity. Then when we got off at Coronado, we were greeted with a "royal" welcome. Santa went to his assigned place where he could do his lap visits and photos with the children. Rudolph, meanwhile, continued to walk around the whole shopping area.
The job itself was two hours long. However, the ferry ride to and from the island took about 20 minutes each way. Add about another 15 to 20 minutes from leaving my parked car, walking to the ferry, along with a little wait before it departed. Ditto for getting back aboard the ferry after the gig was finished.
So when the job was done I had to return to the mainland via the ferry again. Although it was somewhat late by then, I still had a few kids riding the ferry back with their parents. It was less than eight in number. I do not "break" character in front of people, especially the kids! I never, ever want to accidentally destroy the belief and imagination of any child! It's my code of being and staying "real". With those few children on board I, therefore, couldn't take my head off after what was now approaching four hours in the fur. I stood it, but was in some major discomfort.
So, by the time I got back to the car it was definitely over four hours that I was in the fur. It was about 10:00 at night by then. I'm in a parking lot just at the pier where the ferry docked. The parking lot is around the other side of the building and is not visible either to or from the ferry.
When I took my head off the steam billowed up and out from me! I swear to you that had anyone actually seen this they would have thought I was on fire! The steam was that big and that thick. For all appearances it looked like smoke! I stood there just amazed by my own situation. It also lasted for a good two to three minutes before it shrank in its' size. This was with just taking my head off. I had not yet taken off the body itself. When I did get the body off it did kinda surge again. But nowhere near the size and strength of the original head removal.
In the catch-phrase words of the "Mask"-- I was "smokin'"!
Semper Furry! --Me Furry
