Monday, April 16, 2018

STRANGE PEOPLE ... 4/16/18

There's no featured video tonight and no apropos music. The vampires and other night-folk I blog for are not into it. Sometimes it happens that way. They go into a stupor. Usually it starts with one of the old ones. In our case, that would be Jonathon ben Macabi, or Tomas de Macabea. He's known by both names. A long life will do that. 'Papa' doesn't count. He's so incredibly ancient. Different laws apply.

Little Bastid Annie, our twelve year old vampirina in six a year old body, plays Barbie's Dungeon for hours and hours. I think it started as a nice, doll house castle, but she got bored with it and painted in all black and gray... the floors... everything. Then she found a place on line that sold genuine hand forged scale model torture devices. They were already made for eleven inch fashion dolls and twelve inch army-guy figures, so she bought the whole sixteen piece, Ivan the Terrible deluxe set.... with pieces of coordinating dark, heavy medieval looking furniture to go along with it. Edith, the Jersey Pines, witchy-woman housekeeper let her put in on one of the household credit cards. Old established vampire households have lots of cards. Nobody cares. Now half of her sleeping cubicle is taken over by the five and a half foot tall 'castle of death.' That's what she calls it. The dolls all have these goth outfits. Actually, they're the Maleficent Line from Disney. The army-guy dolls are the 'torture guys,' another Annie term and she dresses them in Thor outfits, only they don't have Thor hair... She pretends it got cut off in a war... Annie sets up these elaborate tableaux spanning four stories of the castle. Then she sits there and stares at it by the light of a dollar l.e.d. flashlight Edith got from Boscov's. The rest of her sleeping cubicle is dark. Edith gets her lots of batteries too.

But Tomas doesn't say much. He still goes out roaming the city every night... Just walks... in his black jeans, white shirt and leather coat. He has all kinds of leather coats and jackets... big warm ones... trim quilted 'space cadet' types... scarves... knit hats. He has all that. The cold can't hurt him. He just likes to feel warm and secure.

Edith says all 'hoo-doo' types get like this. 'Hoo-doo' is a Piney term. It means them what's tetched by magic. Not just vampires. They got a whole menagerie. Tends to manifest when seasons change. Been going on a long time already here, 'cause seasons don't know which way they want to go. Sometimes he'll sit in an all-night coffee shop nursing a hot tea, pretending to read one of those free Center City papers they have by the register. Waitresses all know him. They come over and say - Yo, are you all right?... He don't even pick his head up. Just flips them a twenty, or like a couple of twenties if there's two of them. In waitress-land, when you give out a twenty or two, that means you're all right, so they top off his hot water and give him another tea bag and leave him alone..... He rides around in taxis too. Has a few regular drivers. Knows their numbers. Flags them down. Gets in the back. Pulls his knit cap down low over his eyes. Rests his head on the top of the seat and just stares out the window. When he's had enough an hour or two later, he says - Stop here... Pays and gets out. Drivers think he's a nut. Oh, some people around town know he's a vampire, but not everybody.

Once spring really hits they'll all snap out of it. Leo just sits there looking at the TV and chuckling like a maniac. Doesn't make a difference what the screen shows. He's not 'seeing' that anyway. Just laughs and shakes his knee up and down a mile a minute. Looks like that actor Sam Rockwell does when he plays mental cases....

And that's it... Sarah does her thing. Baylah mostly stays down the shore and Conrad just acts like a regular, pudgy school teacher guy who happens to be a vampire. Wears Docker pants and everything.

Real cold and dark and rainy out there tonight.... Two guys found a severed head under a bench in Fittler Square, but it was still talkin' so they left it alone. Scrunched a newspaper around it to keep it warm, but that was it.

Drunk guy says - Don't you say 'thank you?'..... Head says - Go to hell.....

<more tomorrow>

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