Thanksgiving Aftermath: Day 2

Day 2

After taking heavy fire from cookware with stubborn cooked on goop we made headway into the actual kitchen itself. Looking back I saw the causalities strewn about like ragdolls after the family dog got to them. There were bodies on the couches, the arm chairs and draped face down over the coffee table. The snores were so loud, like jungle drums of hidden hostile natives. I was alone now.

Most of the dishes had been done and we managed to get everything into the refrigerator. Some things, like the beverages (and the turkey tuna casserole Aunt Mary brought) had to go outside on the balcony. By four am that night we managed to find the fridge. By 5:30 it was mostly over. However, the refrigerator itself was near bursting pressure. It just wasn’t designed to hold all that food.

There was only one thing to do. I had to eat my way back to safe appliance conditions. It would be no easy task. I would have to sacrifice my cholesterol and my sparkling six-pack abs but, hey, that’s the kind of selfless guy I am.

Bring on the leftovers….

Thanksgiving: The Aftermath

After dinner on Thanksgiving we were bogged down in heavy dishware. The warm thoughts were exchanged. The thanks were given. The cranberry sauce was passed. It was carnage. When it was over not one guest was spared. They were laying all over the room in various states of tryptophanity. Turning my attention to the mess I cried out for help sure that none would come. After the dinner feast I took it upon myself to assemble a team and clean up. No easy feat considering the body count. Food remnants were piling up, stomachs were expanding and near-empty wine glasses were lying on their sides exsanguinating like fallen Roman soldiers. I was on my own…

Looking toward where the kitchen should be and began to assess; dishes were piled on the counter like trunks of the mighty Redwoods. Bowls of potatoes and stuffing rolled like vast dunes of the Sahara. On the dinner table I saw all the pies and other confections spearing out into the distance like a sea of sugary sweetness. I felt small, very small. Somewhere among the debris there was a sink for washing everything and a refrigerator to put everything away.

I donned my rubber gloves, strapped on my welders goggles, belted on my back mounted soap dispenser and unsheathed my scrub brush. Arching my eyebrow, I said a small prayer and went in…

And then there was that one Thanksgiving...

I started the car and everyone piled in behind me. All the small rabbits bear cubs, spiders, mice, rats, a vertically challenged giraffe and rather small elephant. It looked like I just robbed a concession stand at an arcade.

“Where we goin’?” asked the rabbit.

“Off to get the Thanksgiving turkey.” I replied.

There was a collective, “Oooooh” from the back seat. The crew never had a proper Thanksgiving dinner and since they’ve slowly been finding their way into my house ever since the marshmallow incident I figured the least I could do is be a good host. I mean, where else were they all going to go?

“Where do we get a turkey?” asked one particularly reserved spider. He was one of the only ones who chose not to wear a costume on Halloween insisting he was Holiday Appropriate just as he was.

“Well, we go to the butcher and get one there. They have them frozen and fresh killed.”

There was the silence of an inky black night coming from the back seat.

The giraffe craned his neck to reach the front. “What does it mean, “fresh killed”?”

This was going to be a problem.

“Well, um….it means…um....there’s a turkey and the farmer has an…” I had nothing. There was a small army of All God’s Creatures in my back seat expecting a feast of epic magnitude and having no understanding as to who the star of the show was. I had the stuffing, the beans, the peas, the carrots, the onion casserole, the potatoes and the yams and all I needed was that succulent juicy turkey to make the day complete.

“So,” said the spider, “we’re going to get a turkey to bring home to have dinner with us? Well that’s very nice of you.”

“Well, no not exactly. You see we go to the butcher and –“

“Who is Butch and is he coming to dinner, too?” asked the elephant.

That Thanksgiving there was a feast of stuffing, beans, peas, carrots, onion casserole, potatoes, yams, two pepperoni pizzas, one calzone, two dozen rice balls and a bill from Vinny’s Pets for a 20lb. bag of seed , chicken wire fencing and one turkey, Phillip, who was very happy to be seated at the table instead of on it.

A new movie review by Yours Truly...Marwencol

Here's the link to Movie-Hoopla.com....

And here's the article....

Great (Documentary)You Should Catch: Marwencol

What it’s about: Marwencol is a documentary film about the unusual recovery of Mark Hogencamp, who was viciously beaten outside a bar in Kingston, New York. As a means of dealing with the trauma, Mr. Hogancamp created a detailed 1/6 scale World War II-era town called Marwencol in his yard which he populated with military-style dolls that represent himself and the people in his life. The town serves as an escape from the war for Mr. Hogancamp’s character, Mark and an escape from reality for Mr. Hogancamp who exorcises his demons by playing out various conflict scenarios with the dolls. His world is so precise, so thick with narrative and a strong back story that you’d think you were watching a film maker fleshing out his storyboards.

Sometime during the evolution of Marwencol, Mr. Hogencamp began photographing the scenes he created. While it is obvious the figures in the shots are dolls, the set up of each shot is so precise that it could be mistaken for a photograph of an historical reenactment.

Mr. Hogancamp’s personal story plays out much like a non-documentary. The reason for the attack that served as the progenitor of Marwencol isn’t revealed at the beginning. The story unfolds as the film progresses but in truth, I was so taken with the immaculate details of the dolls, the town and the story Mr. Hogancamp created that I almost forgot about the Why.

Who made it: Marwencol is the debut directorial effort of Jeff Malmberg.

Why you should see this: Mr. Hogancamp’s story is very compelling and told with tenderness and care. He isn’t necessarily acting out with his dolls as much as he is actually living in their world. The doll is his alter ego placed in an alternate reality that enables him to maintain his sanity.

If you have any interest in art, models and miniatures you will love this film. Mr.Hogancamp’s artistic talents are considerable. For art buffs, WWII buffs and documentary buffs Marwencol is a must. If you can appreciate the journey the mind can take toward healing, Marwencol is a must.

Technical Stuff: The film was shot over a four year period between 2006 and 21010 and released in limited theatrical run in 2010.