LOVE AND PANTS
Today, I am starting up an old feature called ASK MJ, in which people ask me things and I answer them. These questions have been coming in on the Ning, on Twitter, and on Facebook. I think I will be doing many ASK MJ blogs, so please continue to send in your questions!
Many of today’s questions are about LOVE, but we will start with one about PANTS.
Falletron asks: I'm infinitely tired of (myself and others) always wearing jeans, Maureen. What other members of the trousers/pants family would you recommend?
First of all, I want to tell you all about another exchange I had with Falletron. Falletron watched my Pediophobia video, in which I escorted Libba Bray around an American Doll Place store to help her get over her fear of dolls. In the bathrooms, they have metal devices where you can clamp your doll in while you use the facilities. Falletron wrote to me saying that he thought I was lying, and that the metal devices on the walls were actually for toilet paper.
Now, most of you will already have spotted Falletron’s error. I never lie. I explained to him that American Girl Place is not just a store, but a Temple of Doom-like center where you are encouraged to bring your doll in to visit. There is a doll hospital, and a doll beauty parlor, and a big restaurant where you can go to tea with you doll. So it only makes sense that there is a big claw on the wall to grasp your doll while you are in the bathroom.
Falletron continued to doubt me. I asked him to contact American Girl and ASK them for verification. And so, he did. Humbled, he sent me their reply:
Dear American Girl Friend,
Thank you for your inquiry! We are happy to assist with any type of question. In this case, your friend is correct. We realize this isn't something you would normally see in a restroom facility, but as our young customers will often bring their dolls to visit our stores with them, we want to be sure they have a safe place to put their "best friends" when they need to use the restroom.
Sincerely,
American Girl® Retail Service Support
In thinking about your options, Falletron-who-doubts, I remembered something I once read while researching my nonfiction writing thesis. See, I was a nonfiction student, and I was writing this book on people who maintain identities in another time period (obviously imaginary). People who, for instance, might be bankers by day, and Sir Percyville Guildford in 1674 by night.
In doing my research, I actually found the woman who invented the Renaissance Faire. It really was one person, and the faires started off much different than they are found today. It took some doing to locate her, but I finally got her on the phone and we talked for a few hours and she said, “Look, why don’t you just come to my house for a few days and I’ll tell you all about it.”
And I did. I got on a plane to California (being a poor student, I found a cheap, last-minute ticket), and I spent a week in the California hills learning the entire history of the Renaissance Faire. The woman had a complete archive and mini-library built into a small outbuilding, and I spent many hours in there reading about the Renaissance Faires of the 60s and 70s. Which is how I found the following quote, which pretty much is the be-all, end-all on pants, and perhaps human behavior:
My point, of course, is that Falletron (who I know to be a 21 year old Scottish male person) will now forever be on the American Girl Place mailing lists and they will want to know how he is doing with his dolly.
And really, I think you should just wear a kilt. You’re Scottish. You can get away with it.
Addie asks: Is it a bad idea to date your older brother's friend?
Please see Suite Scarlett (and Scarlett Fever) for details on this one.
Evan asks: Would you go out on a date to the Waffle House with me? WOULD YOU? I'm watching you. *stare*
Yes.
Brian asks: Being a dude... I'd like to know, from a woman's perspective, if I clean the house without being asked... is that romantic?
Well, I guess anything that reduces the chances of you being covered in your own filth is probably romantic.
Gabby asks: What's your favorite way to say i love you? It can be a gesture or just words.
Ever hear that old song, “I love you a bushel and a peck?” It’s from Guys and Dolls. It goes:
I love you a bushel and peck
A bushel and peck and a hug around the neck
A hug around the neck and a barrel and a heap
A barrel and a heap and I'm talking in my sleep
About you, about you
Cause I love you a bushel and a peck
You bet your pretty neck, I do
Doodle, oodle, oodle, doodle, oodle, oodle, doodle, oodle, oodle oo
This song is based on an old tradition from where I come from (Philadelphia), which is why I know what it means and no one else does (unless they are from Philadelphia).
In Philadelphia, when you love someone, you leave a bushel of live crabs and a chicken by their door while they are sleeping. The crabs will usually stay in the bushel, but the chicken will often try to get away, so you usually have to tape it to the sidewalk or something. When the Love Object wakes up and sees all the live crabs and the taped-down chicken . . . well, first, you have to figure out who put them there, because it’s hard to sign live crabs or a chicken. A lot of people just stand around all night waiting for the Love Object to wake up, because it can take so long to put these things together that no one gets anywhere. In those cases, they usually hold the chicken, and eventually it becomes quiet and complacent. The chicken, I mean.
Anyway, once you’ve identified the person who gave you the bushel of crabs and the chicken, you have to decide whether or not you like them. If you don’t, you simply leave them on the sidewalk without comment and pretend you don’t see them. (Which is where we get the phrase, “crab-blind and chicken-stupid.”)
But if you DO like them, a formal ritual ensues. First, there is the hug around the neck. Then, you take out the barrel (you have to have a barrel on hand, which all Philadelphians do) and set it out on your lawn along with a pile of any objects of your choosing (the “heap”). When this occurs, all of your neighbors will know you have entered a love contract. They will start putting things in your barrel—usually small household goods like staplers and cushions. In return they will take one object from your heap. Within a day or so, the heap should be gone and you will be left with a barrel full of unwanted items. (They pretty much always get regifted into other people’s barrels.)
People are normally so wound up by this process that they lose sleep, and what little sleep they DO get is fraught with strange dreams that cause you to mumble. Because if any objects are left behind in your heap and your barrel remains empty, your neck becomes the legal property of the State of Pennsylvania, and then you’re just in for a world of aggravation. Everyone knows that the state normally doesn’t act on this right, but at any time, if they really wanted to, they could make you wear a huge, funny collar. It happens every once in a while, usually in some far-off corner of the state where they have nothing better to do. The shame is terrible.
Anyway, once you get through this whole mess, you can finally start dating. But this is why everyone leaves Philadelphia. It’s just not worth it.
Many of today’s questions are about LOVE, but we will start with one about PANTS.
Falletron asks: I'm infinitely tired of (myself and others) always wearing jeans, Maureen. What other members of the trousers/pants family would you recommend?
First of all, I want to tell you all about another exchange I had with Falletron. Falletron watched my Pediophobia video, in which I escorted Libba Bray around an American Doll Place store to help her get over her fear of dolls. In the bathrooms, they have metal devices where you can clamp your doll in while you use the facilities. Falletron wrote to me saying that he thought I was lying, and that the metal devices on the walls were actually for toilet paper.
Now, most of you will already have spotted Falletron’s error. I never lie. I explained to him that American Girl Place is not just a store, but a Temple of Doom-like center where you are encouraged to bring your doll in to visit. There is a doll hospital, and a doll beauty parlor, and a big restaurant where you can go to tea with you doll. So it only makes sense that there is a big claw on the wall to grasp your doll while you are in the bathroom.
Falletron continued to doubt me. I asked him to contact American Girl and ASK them for verification. And so, he did. Humbled, he sent me their reply:
Dear American Girl Friend,
Thank you for your inquiry! We are happy to assist with any type of question. In this case, your friend is correct. We realize this isn't something you would normally see in a restroom facility, but as our young customers will often bring their dolls to visit our stores with them, we want to be sure they have a safe place to put their "best friends" when they need to use the restroom.
Sincerely,
American Girl® Retail Service Support
In thinking about your options, Falletron-who-doubts, I remembered something I once read while researching my nonfiction writing thesis. See, I was a nonfiction student, and I was writing this book on people who maintain identities in another time period (obviously imaginary). People who, for instance, might be bankers by day, and Sir Percyville Guildford in 1674 by night.
In doing my research, I actually found the woman who invented the Renaissance Faire. It really was one person, and the faires started off much different than they are found today. It took some doing to locate her, but I finally got her on the phone and we talked for a few hours and she said, “Look, why don’t you just come to my house for a few days and I’ll tell you all about it.”
And I did. I got on a plane to California (being a poor student, I found a cheap, last-minute ticket), and I spent a week in the California hills learning the entire history of the Renaissance Faire. The woman had a complete archive and mini-library built into a small outbuilding, and I spent many hours in there reading about the Renaissance Faires of the 60s and 70s. Which is how I found the following quote, which pretty much is the be-all, end-all on pants, and perhaps human behavior:
“Fair veteran Jim Kelly remembers hitchhiking to [the city where the faire was] in 1969, when he was 21, with no money. He was in midst of a silent period, during which he communicated only via interpretive dance. ‘I was wearing billowy paisley pants and not much else,’ says Kelly.”
My point, of course, is that Falletron (who I know to be a 21 year old Scottish male person) will now forever be on the American Girl Place mailing lists and they will want to know how he is doing with his dolly.
And really, I think you should just wear a kilt. You’re Scottish. You can get away with it.
Addie asks: Is it a bad idea to date your older brother's friend?
Please see Suite Scarlett (and Scarlett Fever) for details on this one.
Evan asks: Would you go out on a date to the Waffle House with me? WOULD YOU? I'm watching you. *stare*
Yes.
Brian asks: Being a dude... I'd like to know, from a woman's perspective, if I clean the house without being asked... is that romantic?
Well, I guess anything that reduces the chances of you being covered in your own filth is probably romantic.
Gabby asks: What's your favorite way to say i love you? It can be a gesture or just words.
Ever hear that old song, “I love you a bushel and a peck?” It’s from Guys and Dolls. It goes:
I love you a bushel and peck
A bushel and peck and a hug around the neck
A hug around the neck and a barrel and a heap
A barrel and a heap and I'm talking in my sleep
About you, about you
Cause I love you a bushel and a peck
You bet your pretty neck, I do
Doodle, oodle, oodle, doodle, oodle, oodle, doodle, oodle, oodle oo
This song is based on an old tradition from where I come from (Philadelphia), which is why I know what it means and no one else does (unless they are from Philadelphia).
In Philadelphia, when you love someone, you leave a bushel of live crabs and a chicken by their door while they are sleeping. The crabs will usually stay in the bushel, but the chicken will often try to get away, so you usually have to tape it to the sidewalk or something. When the Love Object wakes up and sees all the live crabs and the taped-down chicken . . . well, first, you have to figure out who put them there, because it’s hard to sign live crabs or a chicken. A lot of people just stand around all night waiting for the Love Object to wake up, because it can take so long to put these things together that no one gets anywhere. In those cases, they usually hold the chicken, and eventually it becomes quiet and complacent. The chicken, I mean.
Anyway, once you’ve identified the person who gave you the bushel of crabs and the chicken, you have to decide whether or not you like them. If you don’t, you simply leave them on the sidewalk without comment and pretend you don’t see them. (Which is where we get the phrase, “crab-blind and chicken-stupid.”)
But if you DO like them, a formal ritual ensues. First, there is the hug around the neck. Then, you take out the barrel (you have to have a barrel on hand, which all Philadelphians do) and set it out on your lawn along with a pile of any objects of your choosing (the “heap”). When this occurs, all of your neighbors will know you have entered a love contract. They will start putting things in your barrel—usually small household goods like staplers and cushions. In return they will take one object from your heap. Within a day or so, the heap should be gone and you will be left with a barrel full of unwanted items. (They pretty much always get regifted into other people’s barrels.)
People are normally so wound up by this process that they lose sleep, and what little sleep they DO get is fraught with strange dreams that cause you to mumble. Because if any objects are left behind in your heap and your barrel remains empty, your neck becomes the legal property of the State of Pennsylvania, and then you’re just in for a world of aggravation. Everyone knows that the state normally doesn’t act on this right, but at any time, if they really wanted to, they could make you wear a huge, funny collar. It happens every once in a while, usually in some far-off corner of the state where they have nothing better to do. The shame is terrible.
Anyway, once you get through this whole mess, you can finally start dating. But this is why everyone leaves Philadelphia. It’s just not worth it.
Comment
-
Comment by William Redd on April 7, 2009 at 2:32pm
-
I grew up hearing “I love you a bushel and a peck”. My Mom would always sing it.
-
Comment by Luz "Lightbulb" on April 7, 2009 at 12:48pm -
Haha...I needed that laugh!! Thanks MJ!!! "Crab-blind and chicken-stupid"--I'm totally going to use that line from now on! :)
-
Comment by jaime on April 7, 2009 at 10:02am
-
If you ever decide to help with phobias again, i have an irrational fear of scantily clad female authors of young adult fiction.
-
Comment by Becca Lowe on April 6, 2009 at 11:53pm -
Hmm...it's good to finally know what I was actually singing about as Adelaide a few years ago.
Thanks.
: )
-
Comment by Madam Rosmerta on April 6, 2009 at 11:48pm
-
O so that's why I saw that guy walking around with that huge frilly pink "OWNED BY PA" collar the last time I was in Lancaster county... thanks for the explanation!
-
Comment by Alex (kira902k) on April 6, 2009 at 6:47pm -
Hahhah. Well, then. That clears up some things about Philidelphians.
Oh, and I love how you answer the pants question with some hilariosu long-winded story about american girl dolls. :P
-
Comment by SimpleTim on April 6, 2009 at 6:11pm -
I always wondered what that song meant.
You're post has enriched my life.
-
Comment by Larissa on April 6, 2009 at 5:32pm -
MJ, you are probably one of the best things to come out of the great Philadelphia region, second only to Will Smith. You give me hope that I too can rise from the crab and chicken barrel rituals and make something of myself one day!
Do you like Rita's water ice, and if so, what's your favorite flavor?
-
Comment by Erin on April 6, 2009 at 4:18pm -
This just happened to me last weekend! I live in Michigan but the guy's from Philadelphia. Now that I know this I kinda regret slamming the door in his face. Should I give him a second chance now that I know this is normal behavior for a guy from Philadelphia?
-
Comment by Allison on April 6, 2009 at 2:11pm -
OH MY GOODNESS! I am laughing so hard right now. I keep trying to muffle the laughter with my pillow so my family doesn't think I'm crying (apparently I sound like I'm sobbing when I'm laughing). But HOLY CRAP. A bushel and a peck. :-D
Also, were you not slightly disturbed by the American Girl® Retail Service Support talking about a safe place to put your best friend when you need to use the bathroom? AWKWARD...
© 2012 Created by Maureen Johnson.
Powered by 
.
You need to be a member of Maureen Johnson to add comments!
Join Maureen Johnson