Wonders never cease in my tiresomely fashionable Park Slope, Brooklyn neighborhood. Little surprise they “clepe us” liberals and gentrified-beings (which, I interpret, means post-yuppies living in a state of suspended post-modernism) and with “swinish phrase” soil our routine pretensions, making us “traduced and taxed” of other neighborhoods. (My apologies to Hamlet. Like him, verbose speculator of ceaseless inaction, I’m also all dressed-up with nowhere to go. )
A short distance from this very computer desk of mine, where I sit posted from sunup to sundown to the next solar eclipse, stands the chic and exclusive Medusa Hair Salon. Why it adopted the name “Medusa” is unknown to me, but I’ll leave that to students of abstract art and Greek mythology to figure out. But speaking of Greek mythology sets a convenient segue into Greek literature and to the comedy of Aristophanes…and to this New Age Satyr Play of a presidential race, something that wild if ancient playwright would be proud of.
A poster in Medusa’s window proudly advertises “Updos For Obama” and for a mere $75 (a mere giggle within the hysterical laughter of today’s economic comedy) you can be updoed silly. A fanciful play on street artist Shepard Fairey’s campaign image featuring Obama sporting Sarah Palin’s overnight sensational beehive hairdo tells passing girls that they could be the first on their block to be a clone of a once forgotten former beauty queen, an unknown mayor of an unknown town in Alaska, and even less known governor of Alaska.
The girls with the Palin dos may want to waltz, from salon to saloon, down to the nearby Patio Lounge and order an Obama Cocktail (vodka, blue curaco and 7-Up) and wink to everyone while discussing foreign affairs. Following that frolic, the lucky pseudo-Palins may want to stagger into yet another nearby booze joint called the Bier Kraft where they could enthrall one and all with their hair-raising tales of fearless moose hunts and tanning parlors, while downing a Hop Obama (Belgian-style white beer) for just $11.95 with profits (you guessed it) going to the Obama campaign.
Fortunately, to maintain what’s left of my mental stability, I’ve given up on most of humanity as being hopelessly insane; nothing really surprises me any longer in the best laid plans of mice and men…I’m into what must be my 200th rereading of Hamlet and sinking fast. However, if Steffie, my profoundly prim and sensually proper wife from England’s green and pleasant land, ever decides to pull a Sarah Palin Do-Da-Do on me, I’ll shuffle on down to the Patio Lounge dressed as Davey Crocket!
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