Oshkosh II: Convocation of the Pseudoduxii XXXVI
I'm just back from the Oshkosh Decoy Show, which was held at the Hilton Garden Inn, a better venue than in the past. The hotel rooms were bigger, fresher, and more attractive, and the show proper, which was today, was in a single large and sunny room, far better than the warren of dark rooms which had been used in the past. Roger Ludwig, who organizes it every year, deserves a big thank you. It was well done.
As was the case at the Minnesota Decoy Show, some regulars were seen to stay up past their bedtimes, convivializing over a tad too much wine before retiring for a few hours sleep, only to arise and repeat the process.
On Thursday nite a notorious Neo-Luddite, whose saddening story has been mentioned before in these pages, was seen tripping up a well-known member of the East Coast Liberal Media Elite by tying said napping scrivener's shoe laces together- this after guzzling fine vinun americanum provided by that very same selfless scribe.
The following nite the same scurrilous fellow threatened to spend the evening bonding with his son like a responsible pater familias instead of supplying sweet viands to his comrades, sitting at the knees of his fellows while soaking up the Wisdom of the Ages. Finally, tho, as Morpheus threatened to totter off to bed, he appeared, in hand a jug of what proved to be a rather fine Pacific plonk from the coastal region of the Eureka! state.
Visions arose unbidden of bikinied Surfer Dudesses beckoning fetchingly in the tropic breeze whilst trampling out grapes 'neath gently swaying palms. The congregation of oenophiles gathered round; the ambrosial produce of Chateau Stoned Bunny was roundly praised, it's nuances savored as only such sophisticates can. The most subtle e'en discerned as it tumbled into silver goblets that it was indeed definitely red.
One dapper bi-coastal gentleman proved that he had missed his calling when he gave an impromptu reading of a fellow decoy scholar's immortal prose. The rapt audience sat in silence, stunned by the rich modulations falling upon their eager ears. Rarely have dilettanti di pseudoduxii had such a deathless combination of text and timbre in so superb a setting.
Long into the night, as driven snow beat silently at snug windows, new myths and heroes arose, to begin their slow evolution, to be sung of 'round campfires throughout the long centuries, to take their rightful places with those of old: Beowulf, Gilgamesh, Odysseus, and Mackey.
The Lord of Spring Valley and his Lady Fair didst regale their boon companions with tale upon tale of days ancient and far, some ne'er to be repeated lest even listeners be chained to great rocks for legal eagles to rend their livers though ages everlasting. Admonishments given and accepted, wisdom imparted, or not, thru the frozen nite the revelers discoursed.
Finally, lest Phaeton in his chariot espy rosy-fingered Aurora, Goddess of the Dawn, the legions dispersed, and wended their separate ways to their chosen serais.
On Frigga's Day, Lord Paine the Communicator brought forth treasures seized in fair battle: from the long-passed Lords of Koshkonong he did have treasures winnowed from mountainous chaff. Few had equal success, near all fell short.
On Saturn's Day the legions congregated in the Great Hall of the Pseudoduxii. Again portentous agreements were made, lingering glances were cast, treasures changed hands, and at long last the Lords and Ladies of the Pseudoduxii went their ways, sadly not to come together again for some long time.
As was the case at the Minnesota Decoy Show, some regulars were seen to stay up past their bedtimes, convivializing over a tad too much wine before retiring for a few hours sleep, only to arise and repeat the process.
On Thursday nite a notorious Neo-Luddite, whose saddening story has been mentioned before in these pages, was seen tripping up a well-known member of the East Coast Liberal Media Elite by tying said napping scrivener's shoe laces together- this after guzzling fine vinun americanum provided by that very same selfless scribe.
The following nite the same scurrilous fellow threatened to spend the evening bonding with his son like a responsible pater familias instead of supplying sweet viands to his comrades, sitting at the knees of his fellows while soaking up the Wisdom of the Ages. Finally, tho, as Morpheus threatened to totter off to bed, he appeared, in hand a jug of what proved to be a rather fine Pacific plonk from the coastal region of the Eureka! state.
Visions arose unbidden of bikinied Surfer Dudesses beckoning fetchingly in the tropic breeze whilst trampling out grapes 'neath gently swaying palms. The congregation of oenophiles gathered round; the ambrosial produce of Chateau Stoned Bunny was roundly praised, it's nuances savored as only such sophisticates can. The most subtle e'en discerned as it tumbled into silver goblets that it was indeed definitely red.
One dapper bi-coastal gentleman proved that he had missed his calling when he gave an impromptu reading of a fellow decoy scholar's immortal prose. The rapt audience sat in silence, stunned by the rich modulations falling upon their eager ears. Rarely have dilettanti di pseudoduxii had such a deathless combination of text and timbre in so superb a setting.
Long into the night, as driven snow beat silently at snug windows, new myths and heroes arose, to begin their slow evolution, to be sung of 'round campfires throughout the long centuries, to take their rightful places with those of old: Beowulf, Gilgamesh, Odysseus, and Mackey.
The Lord of Spring Valley and his Lady Fair didst regale their boon companions with tale upon tale of days ancient and far, some ne'er to be repeated lest even listeners be chained to great rocks for legal eagles to rend their livers though ages everlasting. Admonishments given and accepted, wisdom imparted, or not, thru the frozen nite the revelers discoursed.
Finally, lest Phaeton in his chariot espy rosy-fingered Aurora, Goddess of the Dawn, the legions dispersed, and wended their separate ways to their chosen serais.
On Frigga's Day, Lord Paine the Communicator brought forth treasures seized in fair battle: from the long-passed Lords of Koshkonong he did have treasures winnowed from mountainous chaff. Few had equal success, near all fell short.
On Saturn's Day the legions congregated in the Great Hall of the Pseudoduxii. Again portentous agreements were made, lingering glances were cast, treasures changed hands, and at long last the Lords and Ladies of the Pseudoduxii went their ways, sadly not to come together again for some long time.
posted by TTB at
12:45 PM
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