Farewell

Seeing Seattle

This last weekend, I had the wonderful opportunity to fly to Seattle and visit my brother, the internettally renowned Tolkien Boy. At the conclusion of our activities, he and I posted a joint blogpost on his prestigious blog, the Broken Arms. Here, on the off chance that someone reads mine before his, is that post, with only a few minor edits (including a few layout glitches). So sit back, hold onto your dictionaries, and enjoy the show.


TOLKIEN BOY: Hello, Bassercussionist readers! The ever-bold-and-brotherly Bassercussionist, feeling a bit tied to the rain-shadowy world of Utah and its environs, decided to transcend his earthly imperatives and wing his wilful way Pacific-Northwest-ward. All things being done in preparation for his upcoming religious revivalisms, I am honored to be the featured guest writer here at Rhythm Corner. Say something for the crowd, Bassercussionist.

BASSERCUSSIONIST: Um...would you like me to rise to your incredibly transcendent vocabulary, or would you like me to avoid the charade altogether?


TOLKIEN BOY: I would never advise you to avoid the joint efforts of Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn, you know that. Constant though the changes may be to my psyche through the grimness of perpetual Seattle greyness, that at least is a constant.


BASSERCUSSIONIST: Uhh...okay (wondering what Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn have to do with it). Well, I would like to say that I am honored and privileged indeed to have Tolkien Boy accompanying me here at Rhythm Corner. But a greater honor and privilege is to be related to this brilliant and ever-inspiring author.

TOLKIEN BOY: Thank you; have another cookie. Tonight's topic of discussion is the activities of the past three days, in which Bassercussionist and myself, in a manner decidedly antithetical to the exploits of the well-known Debbie, enjoyed the diversions of the greater Seattle area. Item one is the reason behind this visit, namely, Bassercussionist's practice run of the airline industry to determine its relative safety and comfort before committing twelve hours of his life to make the trip to Munich, Germany. Bassercussionist?


BASSERCUSSIONIST: Thank you. In case clarification is needed, I had my first experience with the modern marvel of flying Thursday night. There are many who are very familiar with this mode of travel, but it was very alien to me. But oddly enough, I was not very nervous about it. It all seemed very straightforward.To make the story not long-winded, I flew from Salt Lake City at 9:00 p.m. and landed in Seattle at roughly 11:30 p.m. I had the inductory misfortune to be seated behind, in front, and on the side of three particularly unhappy toddlers. I didn't mind it very much, because I figured that it was only necessary for my first flight to make the experience complete. Complete, that is, including grilled-cheese crackers and an easily-spillable cup of apple juice. And you can't exclude the compilation of salacious and gritty sitcoms that the airline shows under the pretense of "for your entertainment." Hah.


Also, I have gained an incredible respect for those men and women who design and operate airplanes. As I sat, watching the ground disappear from beneath me, I couldn't help but think to myself, "Okay, how much does this machine weigh? And we have it off the ground on its own momentum? That's incredible." So, kudos to all those airline pilots, engineers, and anyone else who works with airplanes. I'm glad I had the experience before I jump the Atlantic Ocean.


TOLKIEN BOY: Thank you, Bassercussionist for that...exhaustive...but always entertaining explication of the marvels that are modern flight. We'll be watching your career with great interest.Stop one on our Seattle trip was the Experience Music Project in downtown Seattle (right across the street from the Duck Tours. You know you're doing something right if ducks feature prominently in your immediate vicinity). Bassercussionist is, by far, the more musical between us, and I have to say his percussive antics startled many a gradeschooler. I think, though, that my favorite moment was when Bassercussionist and I sat in a cramped booth and recorded ourselves salivating over such musical greats as Buble, Groban, and Martini. Look for a transcript of our cadence confessions (bless us, Wagner, we have sinned) on YouTube. My personal favorite moment was when we, in perfect unison, flashed our brilliant whites at the camera's final recording moments. Oh, and you don't know "cool" until you've heard Bassercussionist's dance mix of "I'm A Pineapple Princess" as sung by Annette Funicello. Seriously. (And don't think, Mr. Fob, that we can't hear you giggling. We can.)



BASSERCUSSIONIST: Immediately after and directly adjacent to the Experience Music Project is the Science Fiction Museum. Here even the most indifferent Star Trek fanatic can find himself ogling at the full-size models of the U.S.S. Enterprise, the fully functional Alien robot, as well as a fully interactive space station observation window where everything from the Death Star to the Crailia (a fully organic spacecraft capable of asexual reproduction (oh, heaven help us)). The Science Fiction Museum is almost guaranteed to awaken the inherent paranoia of being abducted by curious and well-meaning aliens in just about everybody. The Museum also featured many pulp-fiction novels, suggesting every conceivable method of mass destruction that an advanced alien species would use to annihilate the human race (i.e. The Death of the Grass, a story of a great plague that killed all the grass and vegetation on earth, dooming humanity to starvation). Lined with starry ceilings, the Science Fiction Museum transported us to another dimension. And for a few moments, I floated in a great sense of magnificent insignificance, as I stared into the vast expanse of the blanket of trillions of diamond stars.


TOLKIEN BOY: Moving on to other gluten-free entertainments (don't forget your towel), Bassercussionist and I paid a completely unplanned visit to the Pacific Northwest Science Center. Now, a word about the Science Center: I know it's for children. I don't care. It's always been my favorite stop-off in Seattle, for a variety of reasons. For one thing, they have moving dinosaurs. Moving dinosaurs. Sure, they're animatronic, but if you squint, you can almost feel the same terror that our poor primate ancestors must have felt on a late Cretaceous evening. Second, they have an enormously oversized table. I don't know why they do, but they do. And third (and to my mind most convincingly), they have naked mole rats. Considering that naked, mole, and rat are common adjectives that are used to describe me after dates, I have always felt a certain sort of affinity with the ugly eusocial creatures. To top off the experience, Bassercussionist honed his weatherman's skills, indicating that Seattle is due for--wait for it--three days of rain. The boy is a natural.


BASSERCUSSIONIST: I'm still a Seattle-newbie. Gimme a break. Besides, in the time that I've been here, Seattle has been sunny, clear, and beautiful.


TOLKIEN BOY: Words used to describe me before a date.


BASSERCUSSIONIST: In any event, The Seattle Science Center is a must for any Seattle-goer. It works kind of like an extremely educational Disneyland. It teaches you fascinating things, and it makes you feel like a little kid all over again. It's a fun feeling.


TOLKIEN BOY: Until, of course, you find out you weigh 500 pounds on Jupiter, and that your heart rate is dangerously unhealthy and your stress level (even when you're recreating!) borders on the psychotic. But, on to the sculpture gardens!


BASSERCUSSIONIST: As you wish, Tolkien Boy. The sculpture gardens are a grand collection of modern art near the waterfront of the Puget Sound. There you can walk among long, wavy slats of cement (Just make sure you don't lean against them. There are people they hire to yell at you if you get too close. Seriously, where's the career aspiration?). Or you can sit on a chair, underneath an even larger chair. Or you can wax philosophical in front of a large metal tree with no leaves. A singular experience for the sophisticated Seattle-see-er.


TOLKIEN BOY: Nice use of sibilants. Day two of our journey found us again at the waterfront, but this time to ascertain the aqueous amusements of the Seattle aquarium. Bassercussionist and myself, ever the studied students of the seas, discovered a number of important things, not the least of which that we both look frighteningly stunning on a sea otter couch. Bassercussionist, being young and inexperienced, was a bit freaked out by the ambiguous sexuality of a few of the species of fish we encountered, but we pressed on through and discovered that mammals are nicely unambiguous--including but not limited to the recently delivered human female who felt it her right to nurse her young in the middle of a cramped and crowded passageway leading to the salmon spawning springs. (The things one discovers in the wild!) Our only regret is that the puffins were placid. We prefer our puffins progressive.


BASSERCUSSIONIST: I was not either freaked out. I was just a little...bewildered. That's all. After our discoveries at the aquarium, we went to a large and, apparently, popular park. Perhaps the beautiful weather allowed for all manner of health-conscious and sun-loving people to emerge and enjoy the blue skies and green grass. There we met with the legendary Mr. Fob, as well as three other of Tolkien Boy's friends, and recreated. I was reminded of how many years it had been since I had thrown or caught a baseball (five, to be exact), as well as how foolish long-sleeved black shirts are in Seattle summers. But exercise and good company were welcome, and although I came close to severely injuring one of Tolkien Boy's friends, we all walked away still friends. I hope.


TOLKIEN BOY: Pending, of course, the trial proceedings.


BASSERCUSSIONIST: Speaking of that, what do you suppose the bail would be for a pair of broken sunglasses and a mild case of bruised pride?

TOLKIEN BOY: Let's just say that it's fortunate for you that you're leaving the country.


BASSERCUSSIONIST: Good thing that I got my good-conduct letter before I came to Seattle.


TOLKIEN BOY: All in all, the times I've spent with Bassercussionist have been among some of my most enjoyable moments in Seattle. I'm reminded how likable my family is--to me at least. And it's good to know that in the direst extremities, we've still got each other's back--and that I can still whup him in House Rules Uno if the occasion calls for it. I'm going to miss my little, big brother--but I'm confident that my temporary loss will be Germany's temporary (?) gain.


BASSERCUSSIONIST: Definitely temporary. I also have had one of the most enjoyable times this last weekend. I will always have Tolkien Boy's back. I've been told that I look menacing and intimidating (at least when I want to), so keep that in mind, anyone who thinks of picking on him. I don't care if anyone thinks that it's weakness or in some way not masculine to admit feelings for one's siblings. I love you, Tolkien Boy. I've had the time of my life here in Seattle with you, and I won't forget it. When people ask me if I did anything big before I left for Germany, I'll say "I flew to Seattle to see my brother!" And I'll always be proud to say it.


TOLKIEN BOY: As will I, Bassercussionist. As will I. And--guess what? I love you too.




EPILOGUE




BASSERCUSSIONIST: Will people be weirded out by our professions of love?


TOLKIEN BOY: Are you kidding? This post is over three paragraphs long. People start skimming after that.


BASSERCUSSIONIST: It's funny because it's true.



TOLKIEN BOY: Dilbert?


BASSERCUSSIONIST: Dilbert.