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- Written by: Rod Boyle
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I thought I'd blogged about her before, searching the blog, apparently not.
So I'll tell you about this person, famous local personage whom everyone knows and whom I met shortly after moving to the area. Maybe before I moved to the area, on one of my frequent trips, coming via the ferry to Nelson in my old Volvo 240 DL. Best car ever, although not so good for prospecting...
Anyways, a rainy May long weekend, coming from the Balfour terminal towards Nelson and what should I pass but a Circus Clown. Genuine. Bona Fide. Giant Clown suit, oversized clown shoes, clown make-up, tiny umbrella. There's no way I'm not picking her up. The only thing that could make this better would be a bloody hatchet in her free hand, but - you take what you can get and I've learned to compromise.
Pull over, she puffs over and tries to get in, once, bounces out, twice, bounces out, third time's a charm. Turns out the Clown suit is a tight fit.
Drive towards Nelson. We chat, she introduces herself, explains the clown suit. I didn't ask, didn't think it polite, you see a lot of way out outfits out here, but I'm just straight enough she thinks it necessary.
So she's a clown, off on her way to do some clowning.
Now, having lived here a few years I recognize her as a local personage, she's quit clowning and tried politics (a natural evolution I've come to recognize), still pass her once a week in town or on the highway.
Anyways, long story short - this isn't the clown I'm talking about.
No, this is about the Valley Shaman. Friend's told me about him before, I'm pretty sure I know who she means - I mean, how many Shaman can there be in the Valley, but - as it turns out - you'd be surprised. So the Shaman had been invited to her workplace to do a cleansing. Lots of Shaman stuff. Sage, smudging, dowsing, pegs thrown down in corners, rocks, chanting, drumming, more dowsing, minor pyrotechnics. Friend is impressed. How could you not be?
Anyways, friend is discussing Shaman with co-worker, who - as it turns out - knows him. Co-worker is not the person in the first story above.
- "Yeah, me and '....(shaman)', we graduated from Clown school together back in...."
And I'm thinking. You know what I'm thinking. How many clowns are there out here?
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So on one of the TV's at work the last few days they've been playing a marathon of Star Trek - TNG.
I was never really a fan, never owned a TV and so missed it when it first came out and was popular and had to endure it when other people had it on.
Now's my chance to catch up and see what all the fuss was about. Only the TV's in the restaurant, we don't play them with volume or Close Captioning, I'll just have to figure it out, and given that I'm forever to and fro (the nature of service) this isn't working so good for me.
Never mind, I can figure it out.
Watch it. I can see why I never got into it. The authority of Jean Luc Picard undermined by his ridiculous "strut of authority" - arms stationary at side as he walks about bridge, planets - wherever. WTF? It looks unnatural. Riker's "Devastating" good lucks and wholesome close ups, that dumb ass empath and the prodigal young Wesley Crusher. My God I dodged a bullet.
Still, not much going on in the afternoons and so I make a note of what's going on on screen and when I go for a cigarette ask Ken.
"Ken, There's a dead Picard lying on a table and a live Picard standing over him and Councilor Troy has just entered the room..."
- "That's episode ... where Picard has to time travel to save then Enterprise and then kill himself to avoid violating the time-space continuum..." Ken explains.
I'm in awe. I was lighthearted in my testing of his fandom but he's rising to the test. I try him again several times:
"Ken, a bunch of people are trying to talk to this crystal..."
- "That's the episode where they meet the Crystalline Entity and are introduced to Data's evil twin, Lars...."
"Ken, Wesley is getting in trouble for getting off the Holodeck wet..."
- "That's the "Encounter at Farpoint..."
He gets them all. I get increasingly vague in my descriptions, with things like:
"The Enterprise is circling a green planet"...
- "They used that footage for a number of episodes. Give me a minute..." and he come out, glances at the TV, the scene has changed and quickly summarizes the plot.
I get emotional:
"Ken, Ken, Picard has just died" or "Wharf is getting mad" and "How did that darned Wesley Crusher get to be so smart!!??" and it excites him to come out from the kitchen and see what the fuss is about, update me as to the episode and plot.
The man is a genius in all trivial things...
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"Paprika", this was the name me and Chris decided was the name of Ken's magical wing(ed accent on "ed") Stallion that he rode upon on his many adventures and campaigns.
Except, as I discovered, or was revealed to my by the divine revelation that is reddit, "Paprika" was probably not the name of the Magical Winged Steed, no, "Paprika" was the name of Ken's alter-ego, "Paprika" was Ken.
We had all, at work, all been dead-naming him.
I didn't know. Or understand. The fault is mine.
I immediately sought to correct this - Ken, Ken, Ken. No, Sorry, "Paprika, Paprika, Paprika".
I introduce him to the concept gently: The Horse Burlesque: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JHnHIkiqvAc
He neighs approvingly. This is the ideal of Pony Play. He likes this video, these girls.
The realization, of course, is a little grimmer: https://www.reddit.com/r/Cringetopia/comments/ng79vp/these_people_self_identify_as_horses/
I work on adapting the work environment to accommodating him. At work, we pride ourselves on our inclusive and tolerant work environment. We even have an anti-bullying stipend which somehow in all the 5 years that I've been there I've neglected to sign, but I take these values to heart. Gender is a construct and Ken, Ken (oops, I meant to say "Paprika"!) can be whoever he/she/it wants to be. I even floated the idea of "Ken, the Human Tardigrade" to him, which he acknowledged, but there are no reddit videos to validate this. So "Paprika" it is.
First off, we change the "Rush" button on the computer to say "Giddyap".
Ken will like this.
I mean "Paprika" will like this.
I then try to make the work environment more inclusive by making "clopping" noises in the background and neighing when customers come in.
I tell the bus-girls of the magic-halter which if they brandish above their head will bring Ken (oops, "Paprika") neighing to their side.
I take to referring to him as, not chef, but "The Galloping Gourmet".
And I compose mighty verses of his epic deeds:
"Paprika, Paprika, who dost chariotest thou thy mighty steed
Onward Valiant Pony, to ever more Valiant and mighty deeds!
For never was a nobler pony led to magic halter
trotted, whinnied, whose gambols and gentle prancings,
lewd and merry cavorts more subject to fair ladies fancies,
..."
It doesn't need to make sense, only needs the flowery language to make Ken stomp and put him in a lather.
He will be grateful when business picks up...
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And, today another trip planned with Chris, a 10 KM hike to some new ground I'd mapped, only Chris, he isn't big into the hiking in, looking for shit, I've spoiled him with the good findings, and at the last minute he bails. Jam-Tart. Anyways, tomorrow I'll hit it on my own, and won't he be envious of my finds....
In any event it's a good thing, "New Ground" is only a phrase for the places I haven't visited in person but nonetheless spent a great deal of time finding via maps and old geological surveys. So - rather than have him profit off my expertise, it's better for me to find it first and decide if I'm willing to share...
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Amusing story from friend about a legendary former co-worker. We'll call him "Sun-Ra", (not his real name, his "real name" is another Kootenay Alias), he had met the people from the workshops he had in the valley whereupon you'd learn all about Sasquatch, he was something of an expert having published books upon the subject, conducted seminars, offered instruction on psychically channeling these misunderstood hairy men of the forest...
By "the people" of course I mean the people with the "machine". He would, you'd guess, be a natural for this sort of work, his own beliefs and ideologies running as it were somewhat tangent.
I'm curious, I don't have his real name but find it easily enough, there are surprisingly few Sasquatch experts out here, most are dilettantes or pundits, this guy, he's the "real deal". Website, Facebook page (I follow him, why not? Why be here if you don't meet the locals?). Poorly drawn pictures of Sasquatch surrounded by flying saucers ornament the covers of his book. I have to find a copy and read this.
Anyways, back to Sun-Ra, he'd come to work for the company at the behest of the owners, his expertise in Sasquatch implying a scientific rationale that would no doubt be well suited to explaining the machine to potential clients. And first thing he'd do was go for a walk up to Oso, grab a coffee, have a joint, get lit, spend the day there in the garden lecturing and informing his disciples on 'Squatch etiquette and lore, flying saucers, government conspiracies...
Eventually, (by which I mean a year and a half later) they fell out (I gather, amicably enough), he went his own way, back to the valley to doubtless to continue his research, still, something of a legend amongst the old-timers there, no hard feelings but the spirit-guides were a bit off on that one weren't they Martha? A hearty laugh, as dark as they'll ever get.
The owners, since then, have been a little hesitant about hiring True-Believers, a bit of skepticism is fine if not voiced, this job, like an awful lot of jobs nothing like it but like it in every other way, depends on discretion, the ability to quell all reasonable dissent or query, just put your head down and get it done...