NOTE: My name is Mike Calahan and Le Clown asked me to write a post for him as part of his magnificent Week of Back Pain. His only request was that I discuss 1950′s America in some form. I decided I would show it to him first hand, instead.
***
Vintage clothing becomes harder and harder to find as time goes on. With each passing year, the supply slowly withers in comparison to its ever-growing demand. I can acquire a piece here and there, but mostly have to make do with what is already in my closet. I don’t bring this up to showcase how much of a primadonna I am (although an argument can be made for that) nor do I want to paint myself as a vintage snob. I point this out because it was my initial (and continued) motivation for inventing a time machine.
My time machine and subsequent time travelling are things I keep relatively under wraps because I don’t want to come off as a braggart. Also, once people know you have a time machine, it is just a matter of time before you’re being asked to go back and kill Hitler or jump ahead and find out which sports scores to make high wager bets on. My time machine isn’t for the greater good of mankind; my time machine isn’t for securing financial independence for others. My time machine is my way of shopping for clothes and nothing more. Okay, that’s not entirely true. I did once go back to 1949 in an attempt to flirt with Gene Tierney at a party, but she was not impressed by my inability to speak in complete sentences or my stammering when trying to compliment her.
Gene Tierney: not into stammering, awkward guys.
Recently, after a not so subtle suggestion that I would be assaulted by carnies if I kept my secret any longer, I decided to share my time machine with Le Clown. I invited him to my secret location where my secret crew works on my secret time machine. Immediately upon arrival, Le Clown tweeted: Arrived at 3499 Buchanen Way in California, USA. #secrettimemachine
Le Clown was introduced to the time machine and its controls by Heinrich Gottfried and Dortmand Ulrich, two aged Nazi physicists whom I’ve kept hidden from justice in exchange for their know-how.
Personality voids Heinrich and Dormand pose with electric dohickeys and silver do-somethings that alter space and time. War criminals schmore criminals, they get me good clothes!
Le Clown had nowhere in particular time-wise that he wanted to go, so I asked if he’d want to tag along with me while I go back to 1957 for a new suit. “Mais oui!” said Le Clown. Immediately, a small trickle of blood ran down the side of Dormand’s mouth where he’d bitten his lip in an attempt to hold back his anger at the very sound of French. Noting this, as we stepped into the time chamber, Le Clown raised his hand at Dormand and shouted, “Viva le resistance!”
“Remember, don’t do or say anything to draw any attention to us,” I warned Le Clown as we stepped out of the vortex into 1957. “You’ve seen Back To The Future, you know that if anything gets messed with, we’re looking at a whole mess of misunderstandings and close calls that, frankly, I don’t have any interest in because, well, to be totally honest, I don’t know how to skateboard and that’s the best part of the movie.”
Waving me aside, Le Clown looked around at the 50+ years ago that was now our present. Each passerby was greeted by this loud, French Canadian with a “Wazzup!” or a “Yo, bitches!” every one of whom responded with a look of detest.
“Did you hear what he said? That France man just said I was a yobitch.”
Before I could direct Le Clown toward Pickerman’s Tailored Suits & Habberdashery, he was walking through the front door of a diner. Worried he might ask for the wi-fi password or try to pay with a debit card, I hurried after him. As I sat down across from him in the booth, he was ordering coffee. “A double half-fat mocha latte with extra foam.”
The waitress, Janice, paused mid-chew of her gum. “Come again?”
“Oh, I’m sure we will,” Le Clown said. “But let’s first finish this visit, shall we?”
Janice looked at me. “He’s, uh, he’s French,” I explained.
“French?!” someone shouted from the back kitchen. “Who’s French?”
“This fella out here is French!” Janice yelled back.
A burly man in white shirt and white apron came out from manning the grill. “You’re French?” he asked me and I pointed to Le Clown. “I served in Patton’s 4th Armored Division. Got wounded at the Battle of Arracourt. We saved your French asses.”
Le Clown explained that he was actually French Canadian, but that he appreciated any effort this man had made. He stood and saluted the man as a thank you. When the man saluted back, Le Clown reached for a bottle of ketchup, emptied a healthy portion on the forefinger and began to mime eating the man’s hand like a hot dog. I waited for clown make-up to be smeared on every wall of that diner, but the burly man let out a hearty laugh, instead. “Your people may be cowards, Frenchy, but, goddammit, you’re funny. You boys go ahead and order whatever you want. It’s on the house.”
“I’m gonna make up the best plate o’ hash that Canadian Frog SOB ever did eat.”
As we sat over cheeseburgers and french fries, Le Clown looked around at the other patrons and wondered, “Here we are eating American junk food, but there are no fat Americans. Where are le morbidly obese?”
I explained that the burgers weren’t yet laden with antibiotics or hormones like the corporate farms of our time, the buns weren’t made from genetically modified grains and the condiments weren’t infused with high-fructose corn syrup. Le Clown immediately called to Janice, “Hey! Le Clown’s giant mono-ab can haz more cheezeburger!”
Eyeing the jukebox, Le Clown got up and walked over to it. For safety purposes, I followed him. Reading the selections, he said, “This jukebox is full of le crap. Pat Boone? Debbie Reynolds? Where’s le rock ‘n roll? Where’s the soundtrack to Le Grease?”
I explained to him that, while a presumed acceptance of rock ‘n roll has been insinuated by contemporary movies and television depicting the 1950′s, the music itself was seen by many as not mainstream. There were crossover hits that made it onto the Billboard 100, but these were often outnumbered by the Paul Anka’s or Tab Hunters. In fact, some communities outlawed the music entirely and most radio stations played the more white bread-type music found in the jukebox. For the R&B influenced rock or anything that wasn’t mainstream (i.e. rockabilly or blues), Le Clown would have to buy records from a store that had a section for “colored music” or order directly from the labels themselves. “That le sucks.”
“Gee, that Pat Boone sure is a dreamboat. *sigh* “
“Yeah, he’s swell, Mary. Best of all, he’s white, so our folks don’t feel threatened.”
As I filled Le Clown in on the race relations (the violent backlash that resulted from the Little Rock Nine, the story of Emmett Till) and rampant inequality of 1950′s America, he began to laugh. “These people’s heads will explode when they hear about Barack Obama!”
“Who broke what?” asked Janice, hurrying over.
“I was talking about Barack Obama,” Le Clown explained.
Janice turned to me again for clarification. “It’s French for, um, cheeseburgers. Yeah, he was saying that these cheeseburgers are better than the brockobama’s in Canada.”
Janice smiled. “Well, that’s sweet.”
Some time later, I was able to drag Le Clown to Pickerman’s store, the whole purpose of my visit to 1957, in the first place. As we began shopping, Le Clown ran his fingers acros a few racks, then scoffed. “These aren’t 1950′s clothes.”
“Of course they are. I mean, it is 1957, so these clothes…”
“These are old man clothes. I want 1950′s clothes.” Le Clown reached over and grabbed a passing tailor. “You there, Tinker Tailor Swift. Where are your 50′s clothes?” The man shook his head and I saw a bead of sweat roll down his bald head. “The leather Fonzie jackets, the t-shirts with Elvis on them and not Fat Elvis, I mean young, sexy Elvis. Where are les bowling shirts, les motorcycle boots?”
Half-assed costume or authentic 1950′s moment caught on film? You decide.
Taking Le Clown aside, I explained that those things were made iconic because of television and movies that glorified the juvenile delinquent image of the 1950′s, that the term ‘greaser’ wasn’t even part of the American lexicon until the late-60′s and early-70′s. While these types of clothes certainly existed, they were more representative of a counterculture style of dress and not at all mainstream. As an example, I said it would be like walking into a store in Canada and asking where they keep their Mounties uniforms. Not everyone in the 1950′s had pompadours and leather jackets, just as not everyone in the 1960′s was a hippie or danced disco in the 1970′s.
With the promise that my new suits would be done within a week, Le Clown and I left Pickerman’s and got ready to return to 2013. Before we stepped into the funneling time warp, Le Clown paused and looked around disappointed. I asked him what was wrong. “Le Clown thought the 1950′s would be clean and happier and perfect.”
“Even 1950′s television whitewashed its own reality. Back then, no one wanted to watch reality television. They wanted idealized people living in an idealized world, one that was a wonderful escape from the reality they knew.”
“Which was what?”
“Which was the same reality you and I know. One of wars, famine, serial killers, horrific accidents and storms. Where we live with the fear of global warming and HIV, they worried about polio and the atomic war they saw as inevitable. The people here are living their lives exactly as we do: buying a little distraction and happiness while the world spins out of control.”
The Sandersons sit in their bomb shelter awaiting word on whether or not that weather balloon seen over town was a Russian bomber.
“Les 1950′s are as much of a downer as 2013. That le sucks.”
“The clothes are great, though.”
“And their crap food is better for you than 2013 crap food.”
“And they have the polar ice caps, still.”
With that, we stepped back into 2013 and, well, here we are. It’s good to be back.
Mike,
I want to thank you again for our trip back to the 1957 US of A. I’m a tad disappointed we didn’t get the chance to meet Don Draper or Joan Holloway, but I am grateful for my new vintage bakelite radio… Man do I ever love the smell of hot toxic formaldehyde plastic.
Le Clown
Posted by Le Clown | February 7, 2013, 07:14Everyone wants to meet Joan Holloway – for two very good reasons, of course!
Posted by The Hook | February 7, 2013, 07:58The Hook,
Absolutely…
1. She smokes and
2. She smokes.
Le Clown
Posted by Le Clown | February 7, 2013, 08:05Not quite the two BIG reasons I was thinking of, but I’ll never argue with you, Eric.
By the way, did you get my e-mail?
Posted by The Hook | February 7, 2013, 08:08Robert,
Funny enough, I answered you this morning…
Eric
Posted by Le Clown | February 7, 2013, 08:14Sorry..
And thanks!
Posted by The Hook | February 7, 2013, 08:21Actually, i also sent you one last night. I’ve been busy…
Posted by The Hook | February 7, 2013, 08:25Your bakelite radio will allow you to listen to some of the best AM radio the airwaves have to offer. I can’t think of any examples, but I’m sure they are out there.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 11:13I too am a horrible skateboarder, but feel that I would be an awesome hoverboarder. Clearly, the hinderance toward my rocket to skateboarder stardom has been land.
Posted by josefkul | February 7, 2013, 07:19That must be my problem to! what a relief. I just thought I was clumsy as heck
Posted by GlowWorm | February 7, 2013, 09:38I’ve seen heck and you don’t want to be that clumsy, trust me.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 11:32I feel so connected to you here Mike because not only did my most recent blog post contain a fabulous 50s style vintage image, but I’m also in the process of writing a story that involves time travel (what are the chances, right?). Great post, and I love how you sneakily gave us a 1950s history lesson in there.
Posted by Vanessa-Jane Chapman | February 7, 2013, 07:26Vanessa,
I’m with you on the subtle history lesson, but it is inaccurate… I mean, where is Terry Malloy in all of this?
Le Clown
Posted by Le Clown | February 7, 2013, 07:39Hi Vanessa,
Are you really writing a time travel story? I so want to read that. I’m in the rough draft of a time travel story, also, but it is still early. I thought the concept was funny, though.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 11:15I really am! I’m on a bit of a deadline with it because I want to submit it for possible inclusion in an anthology. I’ve had to give myself a speedy lesson on time and space to ensure I’m not breaking TOO many laws of physics. It’s great fun!
Posted by Vanessa-Jane Chapman | February 7, 2013, 11:25That’s exciting. I hope you make your deadline.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 11:29I love time travel…
Great work, Mike!
Posted by The Hook | February 7, 2013, 07:58Thanks.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 11:15Next time why not meet 2013
Posted by ProSona | February 7, 2013, 08:29Because it never returns my calls.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 11:16I loved this, it was le totally awesome.
Posted by merbear74 | February 7, 2013, 08:30I remember the 50s. I was a child and I never want to go back there EVER AGAIN. It was somewhat good but somewhat HORRIBLE. Did I tell you I had a horrible childhood? Part of it was. I am conflicted about the 50s. Sorry, but I am.
Posted by mairedubhtx | February 7, 2013, 08:36If the time machine was large enough, you know larger on the inside, to accommodate a car that is what I would have gotten. Not to sell as a mint collectors item but to drive in style.
Posted by Animockery | February 7, 2013, 08:47Funny you should say that. I have Heinrich and Dormand working on a larger time machine just for that very purpose. I’ll keep you posted.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 11:17good to have you back. my favorite part was the caption with “That France man…” not easy to pick a favorite part. excellent.
Posted by rich | February 7, 2013, 09:13Thanks, Rich!
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 11:18Mike Calahan, you’re Le Awesome …. you even sport a ‘boy next door’ 1950′s name ~
Posted by Rutabaga the Mercenary Researcher | February 7, 2013, 09:41People say that, but they never let me date their daughters. What’s up with that?
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 11:18You’re married? You hang around French clowns?
Posted by Rutabaga the Mercenary Researcher | February 7, 2013, 11:37Don’t all married guys hang around with French Clowns? Was I duped?!
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 11:41duped or doped – one of the two; possibly both…
Posted by Rutabaga the Mercenary Researcher | February 7, 2013, 12:18Mike,
This was such an awesome post (and as far as I know, I am no relation to Dormand Ulrich). I’ve always been fascinated by the concept of time travel and I loved how you brought me into that world in a way that made me think…
Cathy (Ulrich)
Posted by Cathy Ulrich | February 7, 2013, 10:00Hi Cathy. I talked with Dormand and he believes you may related. Did your family have a cache of stolen Nazi gold? If so, Dormand wants to talk to you.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 11:19I liked this version of Back Pain to the Future a lot. But isnt it kinda risky to bring Le Clown into the past where he might’ve altered events and changed the world as we know it? We could all be speaking Quebeçois and eating poutine!
Posted by happyzinny | February 7, 2013, 10:01“Back Pain to the Future” I hate that I didn’t think of that as the title! So great.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 11:20If only you could go back in time to change it…
but thats such a tiny thing! Your whole post was peachy keen! (Is that the right decade?)
Posted by happyzinny | February 7, 2013, 11:32‘Peachy’ goes back to the turn of the century (1900), but ‘peachy keen’ is more of the early to mid-1950′s term. So, yeah, it works.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 11:40I think you would be a pretty cool history teacher. I’m just saying.
Posted by happyzinny | February 7, 2013, 11:45Thanks.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 11:52Only Le Clown would tweet from the past. Oh who am I kidding, I’d be tweeting pictures of me with every large clock I saw and captioning it, “Where we are going, we don’t need roads”.
Posted by becca3416 | February 7, 2013, 10:06I’d totally retweet those.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 11:21Thanks Marty! I mean Mike.
Posted by becca3416 | February 7, 2013, 12:10Becca, you are my density.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 12:10I just changed my name to Lorraine. It’s ON!
Posted by becca3416 | February 7, 2013, 12:29Wait, I’m getting confused. Am I Marty in this scenario or George?
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 12:42You are totally George. I know I said Marty. Scratch that.
Posted by becca3416 | February 7, 2013, 12:43Yes!
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 12:44Whoa! Sounds like you cats had a gas, Daddy-O! Thanks for sharing the trip with us. Fantastic post man!
Posted by talesfromthemotherland | February 7, 2013, 10:55We had a blast. Le Clown wanted to stick around and get tough on a group of squares, but I didn’t need any trouble with any Sgt. Friday wanna-bes.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 11:22Cool man. That cat Le Clown is never a square, despite the French lingo. Loved the post.
Posted by talesfromthemotherland | February 7, 2013, 12:42Reblogged this on B.L.O.G. and commented:
I was asked to guest post on Le Clown’s slightly famous A Clown On Fire. It’s a story of me, Le Clown and time travel. Please enjoy. If you don’t enjoy, then please just say you enjoyed it because, ya know, I’m sensitive.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 11:07Mike Calahan,
I’m bout to wig out this post is so sharp.
Glad you got some new threads daddy-o; you got it made in the shade.
Kookie Le Clown was cruisin’ for a bruisin’ but you greasers cut out just in time.
I’d like to hang longer but I gotta split now.
Red
Posted by SocietyRed | February 7, 2013, 11:07Catch you on the flip side, Red Daddy. I’m hoping to go back and catch a Gene Vincent and His Blue Caps performance and you’re welcome to tag and bop along.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 11:24Dig it man, that would be unreal. That cat cooks the axe. I’ll get my DA prepped in case we hook up with some dolly’s. You’re on the stick man.
Posted by SocietyRed | February 7, 2013, 11:47Brilliant! I must say I especially appreciate the year you chose. It was fun to get a glimpse of the year I was born. I don’t blame you for wanting to shop there…or eat there, for that matter.
This is the second “Time Machine” post I’ve read in the past 12 hours and I liked them both a lot.
Posted by Michelle Gillies | February 7, 2013, 11:11My suits are pretty slick, so I’m happy. At $11 each, it’s a bargain.
What was the other time machine post you read? I’d love to check it out.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 11:26It was a different take than yours (more sentimental humorous than laugh out loud) but I still really loved it. http://wogginswriting.wordpress.com/2013/02/06/if-i-had-a-time-machine/
Posted by Michelle Gillies | February 7, 2013, 11:42That’s a very sweet post. Pops sounded like a great dad.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 11:57Great story, Mike. I wonder what would happen if Le Clown came to that galaxy far, far away. What a blast that would be.
Posted by twindaddy | February 7, 2013, 11:17That’s a story that needs to be written. Personally, I’ve flown from one side of this galaxy to the other. I’ve seen a lot of strange stuff, but I’ve never seen anything to make me believe there’s one all-powerful Le Clown controlling everything. There’s no clown faced Canadian that controls my destiny.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 11:28Well done. I see your schwartz is as big as mine.
Posted by twindaddy | February 7, 2013, 11:28This is clearly fiction. I can tell, because the fake Le Clown didn’t utter “poutine” once! Lies!
Posted by TAE | February 7, 2013, 11:50You’re right on the nose (the red, clown nose). It was fiction. I should have added the lack of poutine as a disclaimer.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 11:55A-ha! See… You could have traveled back in time to my party, drank far too many Strip and Go Nakeds, and woke up bare-assed on my sofa sleeper after all.
Posted by michellestodden | February 7, 2013, 12:22Michelle,
Hi! Bye.
Le Clown
Posted by Le Clown | February 7, 2013, 12:40I see you’re functioning well on dilaudid, Le Clown.
Posted by michellestodden | February 7, 2013, 12:53Michelle,
Blue.
Le Clown
Posted by Le Clown | February 7, 2013, 13:05You forgot “right foot” or “left foot.” We are playing Twister, correct?
Posted by michellestodden | February 7, 2013, 13:21I actually did, but then traveled back again to erase that horrifying moment from your memory. You should be thanking me.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 12:43I will thank you once you travel back and erase many other moments from my memory. I have a list that I will email to you.
By the way, are you able to travel from the 50′s to 2013 with furniture in tow? If so, I’d like to place an order.
Posted by michellestodden | February 7, 2013, 12:59The vortex is only large enough for two people, but we are working to get it wider. At that point, I am gonna start selling furniture on ebay!
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 13:10Mike, you are awesome! I love time travel
When you’re back in the 50s again, pick me up a pair of glasses would you?
Posted by MissFourEyes | February 7, 2013, 12:28Will do. I know some folks.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 12:43Just brilliant. Now don’t ever do it again… I don’t mean the time travel thing… I mean letting Le Clown into the United States…
Posted by pouringmyartout | February 7, 2013, 13:14He told me that you sponsored his visa.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 14:02See… that is how crazy rumors get started.
Posted by pouringmyartout | February 7, 2013, 14:20Crazy rumor or magnificent rumor?
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 14:26Oooohhh… multiple choice quiz… I was never good at these…
Posted by pouringmyartout | February 7, 2013, 15:01If you’re unsure, choose C.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 15:08My dog ate my homework…
Posted by pouringmyartout | February 7, 2013, 15:09To the principal’s office, smart guy!
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 15:10This is exactly why I dropped out of high school… in 1977…
Posted by pouringmyartout | February 7, 2013, 15:16I hail from a “time travel in reverse” town in upstate New York. Everything there either stays in 1957 or, more likely, is being dismantled. In 1957, I remember driving with my folks past a billboard that said “New Shopping Center – Opening Fall 1957.” Last time I looked the billboard still said that.
Calahan, if you’re looking for vintage clothing from that era, I suggest bowling shirts. They seem unchanged in 50+ years.
Posted by Curmudgeon-at-Large | February 7, 2013, 13:39I believe it was Charlie Sheen made them popular again. They were really awful.
Posted by "HE WHO" | February 7, 2013, 13:51I bet the houses there are great. Are there a lot of ranch style homes? Any Eichlers?
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 14:27Nothing as fancy as an Eichler. Ranch style homes and first quarter 20th century. Sadly, the most impressive ones were torn down.
Posted by Curmudgeon-at-Large | February 7, 2013, 14:49Boo.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 15:06Gene Tierney. Good choice.
I was fortunate in my selection of 1950′s clothing. I organized the home of a woman who hadn’t thrown anything away in 60 years…and she gave me my pick of her clothes and jewelry. What a haul!!
Posted by Addie | February 7, 2013, 14:58My wife and I inherited a ton of clothes from a couple who were clothes horses and they were both our sizes, so we got some nice stuff.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 15:07Color me in polyester jealousy.
Posted by Addie | February 7, 2013, 15:20It was all early to mid-60′s stuff, too. I got two suits and my wife got a lot of skirts and several cashmere sweaters.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 15:30Cashmere. *drool*
Posted by Addie | February 7, 2013, 17:49Wonderful read, Mr. Calahan!
Posted by The Bumble Files | February 7, 2013, 16:46Thanks.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 18:48So where DO they keep their Mounties uniforms?!
Posted by Lyssapants | February 7, 2013, 16:54For some reason, they keep them on the same aisle as the mayonnaise. Weird, right?
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 18:49Sounds delicious.
Posted by Lyssapants | February 7, 2013, 18:57Like mayo, be careful to keep the Mounties out of the sun or you could get a serious stomach ache.
Posted by calahan | February 7, 2013, 18:59for some reason!?!? for a bloody excellent reason; they shelve stuff in alphabetical order so that poor lost souls such as me don’t have mental breakdowns at the very thought of entering a supermarket!!
sorry i’m late – superb post
Posted by sacha1nch1 | February 12, 2013, 23:19That makes more sense, now. Thanks for clearing it up.
Posted by calahan | February 13, 2013, 10:50Just trying to do my duty as someone who butts in on other people’s conversations…….don’t thank me…it’s what I do.
Posted by sacha1nch1 | February 13, 2013, 18:57You are an unsung superhero.
Posted by calahan | February 13, 2013, 20:25I beg to differ; I have had five songs written about me, and I can reveal that it was in fact me whom Carly Simon was singing about.
Posted by sacha1nch1 | February 13, 2013, 20:46Did one of the other songs include, “Who can turn the world on with a smile?”
Posted by calahan | February 13, 2013, 21:44No it did not.
Posted by sacha1nch1 | February 13, 2013, 22:11Good job, Cal. You are witty.
Posted by UndercoverL | February 7, 2013, 19:10Nice save on the brocobamas.
Posted by The Waiting | February 7, 2013, 20:11It was a tense moment, though, right?
Posted by calahan | February 8, 2013, 11:03Next time you go back, will you please do me a favor? I need a pair of black pumps to go with my vintage suits. Size 6, modest heel.
Posted by Kylie | February 8, 2013, 00:06One pair of black bike pumps coming up.
Posted by calahan | February 8, 2013, 11:04nonono
Posted by Kylie | February 8, 2013, 17:17Not to take away from the nice story ( excuse me Calahan) – but Le Clown, I’m so sorry you’re not feeling well. I hope it gets better soon. Remettez-vous vite.
:Le sigh:
Posted by Naked Lola | February 8, 2013, 02:48Naked Lola,
It’s nice of you to stop by and wish me well. I really appreciate this.
Hope all is well with you, dear friend.
Le Clown
Posted by Le Clown | February 8, 2013, 08:33Mike,
This felt so authentic it’s like you’d been there, done that! I love the Tinker Tailor Swift. Good one.
Posted by iRuniBreathe | February 8, 2013, 08:59Unfortunately, now I owe the John le Carré estate money for that reference.
Posted by calahan | February 8, 2013, 11:07It wasn’t me who told! Go back to the past and fix his memories. Then you can take full credit for the idea.
Posted by iRuniBreathe | February 8, 2013, 11:27You’re diabolical!
Posted by calahan | February 8, 2013, 11:33I’m going to say I like this comment. I don’t care how you meant it, either.
Posted by iRuniBreathe | February 8, 2013, 11:36Ha.
Posted by calahan | February 8, 2013, 12:15I’d have thought you would just hop forward a week to get the new suits before coming all the way home.
And this post should be FPd just for the Tab Hunter reference.
Posted by El Guapo | February 8, 2013, 09:30WordPress loves Tab Hunter references.
Posted by calahan | February 8, 2013, 11:04Amazing! Thank you for the 1950′s insight AND a good laugh, of course.
Posted by Nicole Marie | February 8, 2013, 09:41Thank you for reading or, at least, pretending to read and just skipping ahead and commenting. I’m onto you, Nicole.
Posted by calahan | February 8, 2013, 11:05When I don’t skip a single word, it’s a good damn post. And I didn’t skip a word or a comment or an exclamation point here. You’re welcome.
Posted by Nicole Marie | February 8, 2013, 11:48or a comma*. Yep.
Posted by Nicole Marie | February 8, 2013, 11:48Thanks for clarifying the comma. You rock.
Posted by calahan | February 8, 2013, 12:15Totally awesome post. And nice saves in diverting attention away from some of Le Clown’s larger eccentricities!
Posted by faithhopechocolate | February 9, 2013, 15:39I apologize for being so late in commenting on this, but I was in 1945 welcoming all the troops back home. It took longer than I expected because some of them needed to be welcomed home a few times. Anyway, you gave Le Clown quite an excellent tour of 1957 America. But I’m stunned that you didn’t take him to Disneyland!
Posted by Madame Weebles | February 11, 2013, 19:31I considered it, actually. I worried about it turning into a 30-page piece, though.
Posted by calahan | February 11, 2013, 19:59one
Posted by TheSeedSaidSo | February 27, 2013, 21:281
Posted by TheSeedSaidSo | February 27, 2013, 21:38some
Posted by TheSeedSaidSo | February 27, 2013, 21:47