Archives for posts with tag: personalities

cat arguing

Overall the Dedes are a mellow lot. Even Cat does not touch Mouse, despite it is totally against her nature. Sometimes we can observe Cat eying Mouse up and watching her every move, but she wouldn’t pounce on her. It is not that Cat respects Mouse, no, she doesn’t. Their lifestyles couldn’t be more different. Cat believes Mouse is a goody two shoes and a busy body. The truth is Cat just can’t be bothered with Mouse. Cat is a student of Urban Social Structures and has to roam around the neighbourhood a lot for her studies. Apart from this, she sleeps a lot and eats even more – as every good student does – and when the tom cats come out at night to party, she is there too.

Last night Cat came  to visit me. She does this very rarely. She keeps more to herself unless she is hungry. So I was expecting that she wanted to score a free dinner and invited her to stay for a bowl of my broccoli soup. But she declined politely.

“I have to say, I was incensed by Mouse’s behaviour today!” She was airing her disapproval of Mouse using a cat punching bag.

“It wasn’t a real cat, not even a stuffed one” I replied

“She truly hurt my feelings! And I want you to address it”

“That is between you and Mouse, I can’t interfere here. You know I try not to take sides.” I refused to help her out.

“But sometimes you have to take sides, for example when there is an outrages injustice”

I had to reminded her that she got six toy mice at her last birthday party.

“Yes, but that is normal, isn’t it?” she replied sulkily, looked at me like only a cat can, and slinked off.

She is another one I might not see for a while….

L'artiste painting

Ding-a-ling-a-ling, we are now opening the last round of the “Super Dede 2012” competition. It is skills week this week! The candidates have to present us with something they are good at. They are totally free in what they do, absolutely no limitations.  This will lead up to the ‘Big Finale’, where all the candidates will be on show again with a summary of their performances over the last three weeks. Then there will be some more voting and the winner will be announced! Don’t forget, any comment during the competition will go into the draw for a signed copy of the book Hermit’s web or the few friends I need, I hand-craft myself. The consolation prizes will be 2 packs of Dede postcards (10 each).

Up until now, the stage has been a crammed little area on a coffee table in my living room and Devil had dismantled it to make himself a hammock on Saturday. I guess Devil couldn’t be bothered putting it back into place yesterday, so the organisers (Devil and Detail) decided the candidates can choose their own location this week. At first Detail wasn’t too pleased with the idea. She likes to have everything done properly. But Devil convinced her by saying that some of them might need more space for their performance anyway.

L’Artiste has made a request to be first in this round. He said he is feeling a bit drained by the whole affair. After being on centre stage for this prolonged period, he is now craving for the solitude of his studio. None of the other competitors objected. Secretly they were quite happy that someone had put their hand up. I guess they where too shattered yesterday to rehearse their acts.

So LArtiste invited us into his studio. This is usually a no-go zone for everyone. No-go mainly because the floor is littered with old magazines and stuff. I don’t know how anybody can work in this mess, you absolutely have no space to move. He showed us one of the pieces he is currently working on. And I finally understand why he wears this brightly coloured tunic. I first thought it is a fashion statement, but no, it is because he is one messy puppet. You might know, the Dedes have to share the robes, there are not enough for every one, and L’Artiste is just protecting the dress for the others, so they don’t all look like painters.

Of course, Detail asked L’Artiste about the meaning of his work. He wiggled his way out of an answer and said: “I thought question time was last week… Will the other puppets get asked to explain their work as well?” Detail was not impressed that he tried to dodge her question, I could tell, but L’Artiste left it at this. He is just so confident in himself.

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The Dedes were pestering me for a while. They wanted to have a real Christmas party. I had told them some time ago I won’t be around on the 25th of December, Christmas Day, when you usually have your family get-together and get your presents. We non-Dedes are going up north to celebrate with family and I won’t be able to take all the Dedes with me, but I might take some. – I can already hear them calling: Take me! Take me!  But this is still a week away….

Back to the Dede Christmas Party, which happened yesterday. You might have gathered, I am not the best organiser under the sun and I always ask Mouse to do the dirty work. Once again, she worked her little butt off to make it a memorable event. She organised such a typical New Zealand Christmas party. We had the most gorgeous day, beautiful sunshine – it must have been the hottest day of the year so far. Mouse had found the perfect location. I had suggested the beach, but for the hydrophobic Dedes that might have turned out rather displeasing. Mouse opted for a site high on a hill under an ancient Pohutukawa tree. So the Dedes could sit in the sun or the shade, what ever they liked. Of course, we also had all the drama that usually goes with a Christmas party in the sun (Mouse is not at fault here). I took plenty of pictures, so have a look at the slide show.

For my readers in the Northern Hemisphere, who are not used to the Christmas Season in the sun, here is a quick summary of what usually happens at such events: Everybody arrives at the picnic site. There is plenty of drink and also some food. As it is so hot you rather take to drink than food. You sit around and chit chat with people you haven’t seen  for a year or didn’t care for, while you slowly get drunk. In the scoring heat this state is reached relatively quickly. At one point Santa gives out presents, followed by more drink. The ones who drink get merrier and merrier and the ones who don’t, become more miserable as the conversations go round and round in ever decreasing circles. The kids (who don’t drink of course) do the Christmas Crackers, the grown-ups do the gossiping and the inevitable fighting, and new alliances might also form. Then suddenly everyone goes all quiet and has a little nap. Once everybody comes out of their stupor, the big clean-up happens and the left-overs are packed up… and that is it till next year…. All Mouse can hope for is that everyone has the feeling they had a great afternoon.

I of course was the designated driver and photographer and couldn’t partake in the affair, but I enjoyed the afternoon watching them. I won’t tell you what happened in the car on the way home and needless to say I am enjoying my morning coffee today in total peace and quiet.

Thanks Mouse!

devil hammock

The week of interviewing the candidates has taken its toll. I have never seen Devil so exhausted, honestly. He finally admits, it is not that easy to deal with all the different characters. As soon as he got up this morning, he took down the theatre curtain and made himself a nice hammock in the backyard. I don’t think we will be seeing much of him today.

Lartiste on stage

The audience had fits of laughter at the end of Harvey‘s speech, as if it had been the most hilarious comedy show. I am not entirely sure whether they were laughing about the rabbit’s crude innuendoes and thought it was a big, big joke, or the faux pas of Mouse and Socialite. Mouse  was simply so eager to get her comment in, that she actually hadn’t taken in what was said. When Foxy Lady enlightened her by pointing out what she had cheered for, she turned instantly red. Fire-engine red to be precise. Dede puppets usually don’t change colour, but you can believe me, she did. I have never seen her so embarrassed and she quickly disappeared out the door and into the darkness.

Harvey couldn’t quite make out why everyone was laughing either, but he obviously took it as a good sign. He walked up to Socialite, gave her a big hug and sloppy kiss on the cheek as thank you for her support. Socialite giggled, but was clearly uncomfortable.  Harvey didn’t notice, he was chuffed he had found a new best mate.

Finally, L’Artiste, the last of the competitors ambled onto the stage. Rather than the standard black robe, he wore a colourful outfit –  just to be different. He stood there for a couple of moments and enjoyed the admiring glances from all the puppets. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d started a new fashion trend with his gown and tomorrow everybody will be wearing a similar rag.

“I will make it short and sweet” he began in his deep and relaxing voice “I am L’Artiste Dede. I do my own thing! If you know me a little, you know how much I love my reclusive lifestyle. I am certainly not one to join the crowd. To be honest, I hate it all… I detest reality and talent shows with every fibre of my being. On the other hand I am open minded and naturally curious and I am always good for new experiences. I strongly believe the foundation of all judgements should be your own experience…

“I signed up more or less as a joke and I am very surprised I got in. I thought there were other contenders that have much more of a chance than I have. But now, here I am – and I will go through with it. Que sera sera. But should I win, I certainly won’t write it on my CV – I might turn my thoughts into some sort of artwork though.”

He briefly lifted his hand  “Salute! And thank you for your attention” and with those words he loafed off again.

The Dedes looked at each other and didn’t know what to make of it.

“Bold” said Smug Little Devil after an extended pause and because nobody else said anything. The others looked at him and nodded in agreement.

Only Monkey said, “rubbish, he should have moved aside and let me have a go!”

What do you think about L’Artiste’s performance?

 

harvey speaking

Mouse asked me not to report what Monkey and Smug Little Devil say when the contestants leave the stage, as they invariably say the same thing to everyone. But I reminded her that Devil had instructed me implicitly to write down the first three comments from the Dede audience. And I am a truthful reporter! I do my job well. She went off to look for Devil to complain, but couldn’t find him. So she devised Plan B and this was simply to out-smart the two boys by getting her comment in first after the next contestant. She also convinced Socialite to do the same. They choose a short, yet supportive remark, and practiced for a bit  to get it out quickly.

The next contestant was Harvey the rabbit. He bounced onto the stage with youthful energy: “Hi, I am Harvey. Thanks guys for all your votes. A big thank you goes to Mr XL in particular for his great work as campaign manager. Unfortunately I had to sack him right after the election as he couldn’t find me a speech writer. Ah well, I listened to the earlier contestants and decided I can write my own speech. Easy-peasy! It can’t be too difficult to beat what we have heard and seen so far.” He laughed heartily at his own joke and plonked himself down on the edge of the stage.

“I bet we have a mostly youngish audience out there in the big wide world, so I won’t bore you with any family crap. I don’t know how many siblings I have nor how many kids for that matter. After all I am a rabbit. I live for the here and now, and for the big day when I win the lottery. In the meantime all I want to have, is fun…. And ladies, you are lucky, I am not married yet! Yes, all you lasses out there, look at at me: This handsome young buck is still available… I am a really nice guy.  I have a good sense of humour, I am easy going and, most importantly, I am not particularly demanding.  Yes, it is time to settle but I am still looking for the right sheila, bird, lass what ever you want to call ’em. Doctor says I should eat more rabbit food, so it would be good if the sheila could cook. I am eating far too many burgers. I know that it’s not really the best diet, but there is some salad in it, isn’t there?

“Apart from this, I want her to be fun-loving too and, please, none of this deep and meaningful stuff. Life is far too short.

“Looking forward to your questions next week, laaaayydiiiies! And this is all from me for now…”  With those words he hopped off the stage straight into the audience.

“Bravo” called Mouse

“Brilliant” shouted Socialite

“You can’t be serious” commented Foxy Lady “I must be in the wrong film”

What did you think of Harvey?

cash cow on stage

It wasn’t a surprise that Mouse‘s performance appeared to be slick and polished, she is a wonderful organiser  and a perfectionist. She needs to have the feeling of being in control. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had sweated over every single word and studied every single gesture of her gig since the finalists were announced. Yet the talk of the Dedes was her admission that she grew up in a caravan park. Mouse is known to be a gossip. It is hard to believe  she could have kept a secret like this from us. Not even I had known that fact. So I had to ask her whether it was really true. Without batting an eyelash she told me she was born under caravan no 17. Nobody knew… except for Socialite. Turns out Socialite was born in caravan no 17. Socialite of course doesn’t want to be reminded of her social origins, but faced with a direct question, she shamefacedly corroborated Mouse‘s story. She said she remembers the screaming and fighting of the Mouse family under the caravan all too well. She was constantly warned by her mother she will be sent to the Mouses if she doesn’t behave! What a deterrent!

“So what?” Mouse asked “it is out now! Does this make us lesser puppets?”

She asked this just as the next candidate, Cash Cow, squeezed past us on her way to the stage. We had to do a double take. The old girl had dressed up for the occasion and was wearing a huge pink flower on her chest. We all know Cash Cow is only rich in name, but she is a giver by nature. She would give the last shirt off her back, even though she would never admit it was her last one. We all looked to the stage in anticipation of  her speech.

“Yes, dears, my name is Cash Cow” she started and did an old fashioned, slightly awkward, curtsey.

“I want to say to my predecessor on this stage: It is not important where you come from – but what you make of it! And you, my dear Mouse, do a very fine job.” She bowed slightly towards the the backstage area where Mouse was standing.

“You might have heard, I live in a garage at the moment. That is all I can afford…. I don’t have to pay rent, but I still have to buy food and food is so expensive. But I’ll tell you, dears, it wasn’t always like this.” Her droopy eyes lit up.

“I was born to the manor, a very large estate just outside town. Oh, there were meadows as far as you could see and trees and lakes and bees and birds. It was just wonderful. Of course it wasn’t mine, but I felt rich. I had everything I could wish for. I had five beautiful little calves. Every year I had one and I gave them my everything. I wanted them to grow up feeling just as rich as I did. Unfortunately the farmer passed away and his heirs sold the land to a developer.

“I was so lucky… who wants to kill a Cash Cow? So I was moved on. Nobody noticed my udder was dry. But now that I live in the garage, my little ones… they are all grown up by now… never visit. Ah well, they have to find their own place in the world. Who knows where they are now, for all I know they could have gone to Australia. Maybe one day they will remember me…. If you see any of my kids, tell them I will be in my garage!

“Yes, dears, I don’t have money, but I am still rich! I have a roof over my head and I have you guys, my friends! And if someone wants to drop in on me, I will always have a glass of milk and a cookie for you. And if you could bring some time, that would be just wonderful… I can tell you some stories…

“Thank you.” She curtseyed again and shuffled off the stage.

“Boo” shouted Monkey “Boo. I could have done better!”

“Amateur” commented Smug Little Devil “What a fuddy-duddy. What’s with all those sob stories?”

“Ah shut up you guys” hissed Mouse “you are so not funny! Can’t you give some constructive criticism?”

What do you think about Cash Cow‘s performance?

 

pig on show

Yesterday was a rather strange day. There were a lot of unhappy puppets around, such as Monkey, who saw his dreams shattered to smithereens. He is a comedian and would have so loved to show off in the third part of competition. Foxy Lady is convinced she would have out-witted anybody in the second round and Snippedy, the clown, will have to come to terms that his mask doesn’t fool anybody. But that was yesterday… They will get over it and we have to go on with the show!

Last night most of the Dedes assembled in front of the make-shift stage and Devil, the MC, welcomed everybody. He explained again that any comment from readers during the competition will go in the draw for a signed copy of the Dede puppet book: Hermit’s Web or the few friends I need, I hand-craft myself. Then he went on to explain the format: This week the contestants will introduce themselves and every post will have a star rating attached. Devil pointed out the star rating is for the performance of the contestant, not the post! He also instructed me to include the first three comments from the Dede audience in the post.

And then he called Pig on stage.

It was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop. And there was Pig. It stood there and started sweating. Pig had stage fright. It just stood there frozen like a statue. It doesn’t say much at the best of times. We always thought it was because it hangs out with Professor and he does all the talking for both of them. But now it was obvious. Pig doesn’t have anything to say at all. Pig was clearly uncomfortable and embarrassed.

“Boo”, called Monkey from the audience “Boo. I could have done better…” But he was the only one. Everybody else sat there and felt sorry for Pig.

“No heckling, please” said Devil and put his arm around Pig who still just stood there.

“So then, contestant No 1. Why are you here?” Devil asked to get Pig going.

“Dunno. Professor put me forward” Pig answered, barely audible.

“But you must have signed the entry form” Devil pointed  out.

“Must have been drunk!”

“Just tell us something, anything… Where do you come from or is there anything special about you?”

Pig scratched behind his ear and stepped from one foot to the other.

“Well, we were five little piggies, the oldest went to the market. I had nothing. My mum, the sow, didn’t expect much from me anyway. Originally she wanted to call me Elvis, because I, I have Elvis Presley’s eyes. I think that is why I love to drink. Professor says I have beautiful eyes.” It all came out in one big convoluted sentence, but that was it. Pig was quiet again and looked nervously at Devil for approval.

Devil knew that was it, there was no more where this came from. Pig was dry. “Okay give our first contestant a big hand.” Devil said to the audience and clapped his hands. Pig saw his chance and took to his heels.

“Boo” called Monkey again

“Amateur” said Smug Little Devil

“Oh dear,” sighed the Professor “and I thought it would be character building for him”

Rate Pig‘s performance here:

finalists

First things first, you are certainly all sitting on the edge of your chairs wanting to find out who will compete in the ‘Super Dede 2012’ competition.

Drum roll! Here are our finalists:

Pig and L’Artiste Dede scraped in with 12% of votes each, Cash Cow collected 15%, Mouse 17% and yes, Harvey gathered a whopping 23%. Who would have thought…. Certainly not me!

After the poll had closed, Devil, Detail and I discussed what had happened in the last week. Maybe due to the time of night – voting finished at midnight – we reached an agreement relatively quickly. We decided not to disqualify Harvey. The consensus was, if he is cunning enough to rope in a canvasser, good on him! Detail actually pinned the whole darn situation on me. She said, if I had kept my mouth shut and not talked to Mr XL about the election, the whole kerfuffle would have never happened. I basically gave Harvey a foothold. All he needed to do, was walk up to Mr XL right after I had left, play his heartstrings and ask him for help. I really should have known better….

“But, but…” I said.

Devil looked at me, shook his head and threw his arms in the air. “It doesn’t matter now… What happened, happened. And Harvey hasn’t won the competition yet. So far he has only managed to secure himself a place in the finals. Now he has to convince the audience with his performance and this will be far more difficult.

What’s next?

Detail explained how we will proceed. First, the finalists will give us a speech about themselves. Then they have to answer three questions and finally they will entertain us with their specific skills. After a lot of consultation Devil and Detail decided to allocate one post for each candidate and task.

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. “This will take us up to Christmas!” I exclaimed.

“Yes, correct” Devil replied “but five candidates in one post would be far too much for anybody. No-one can take in that much information! The other Dedes want to have a chance to give their feedback too”

“It’s also easier for the ratings!” Detail explained the practicalities “each post has a star rating system attached, so that the readers can rate the individual performances.”

“We really would like the questions in the second week to come from our readers and in general it would be great if the audience participated” Devil said “but we need some sort of incentive…” All of a sudden they both turned to me.

“What?” I said. I had the feeling I was missing something.

“Couldn’t you be the sponsor of the competition?” Devil asked and Detail nodded eagerly.

“Meeee? Am I not supporting you enough? How can I sponsor you?”

“We’d thought you could offer a signed Hermit’s Web book. We could put all the names of the people who comment into a hat and at the finals we draw one name and that person wins the book.”

“I guess that would be better than a meat pack.” I replied.

“We even could rename the show to the ‘Zeitgeist Publishing Super Dede 2012’ competition” Detail suggested.

“Oh, no! c’mon!.. I will give you a signed ‘Hermit’s Web‘ book and I even will throw in two additional packets of Dede postcards (10 each). But don’t do any of the naming crap. That makes it sound so cheap.”

Prize draw

“Can I write it like this into the rule book?” Detail read out aloud what she was writing “The name of any commenter goes into the draw for a signed copy of the book: ‘Hermit’s Web or the few friends I need, I hand-craft myself“. The more comments you write the more you increase your chances. Second and third prize are one pack of ten Dede postcards each.”

“The wording might have to be fine-tuned, but yes, that is correct.” I said and packed up my things.

Now we have a real problem: I suspect Harvey of cheating! Can I say this so bluntly? I’ll tell you the story and ask for your opinion.

Yesterday I bumped into an old friend, I will call him Mr XL here.  Of course I told Mr XL about the ‘Super Dede 2012’ competition and asked whether he has voted. Unfortunately I mentioned the poor loser Harvey, the rabbit with a gambling problem who doesn’t have any supporters at all. At the time I really felt sorry for Harvey, the poor little sod. I explained to my friend that Harvey got his name from a 1950s movie starring James Stewart, called ‘My friend Harvey’. In the film Harvey is actually a pooka, in the shape of a human sized rabbit who can only be seen by a Mr Elwood P Dowd. No, I didn’t see the film when it was first released! However,  Mr XL was very surprised he had never heard of the film even though he could have seen it then.

Strangely enough in the afternoon the votes for Harvey started to rise. He is now – would you believe it – number four! Being a pooka and a gambler I have my suspicions that Harvey went to see Mr XL after I’d left and made a deal with my friend. Knowing Mr XL, who is a real sucker for the underdog, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d agreed to skew the votes in Harvey‘s favour for a couple of beers on Friday night in the RSA or the pub. Ah, it is Friday today… Unfortunately I have a prior engagement tonight, but if anybody spots Harvey and Mr XL in the pub together tonight, I will disqualify Harvey on the spot.

What do you think?

In the meantime, here is the voting form again…