Week Thirty-One: Bean Party

Bean.

Sometimes, to the satirist's joy, someone else does his work for him. That is indeed the case for Cokesbury's Bean Party. Their introduction:

The bean, in times past, was quite imporant and played a prominent role in the affairs of men.

It gets better. After prattling on about how the Greeks and Romans used beans in the election of magistrates, Cokesbury goes on with what really sounds like a lot of nonsense:

A white bean signified absolution and a black one condemnation.

For whom? Where? I'm not sure. (Nor do these folks, though they're pretty anxious to pass on that obscure bit of folklore.) And it doesn't end:

[Beans] were also used in a sort of ceremony in which the master of the family after washing his hands three times, threw a black bean over his head nine times, saying, "I redeem myself and my family by these beans."

I have a question about that one. Did he throw nine beans over his shoulder, one at a time, or did he have to toss the same bean over his shoulder nine times? If it's the latter, I'll bet the abjuration was more along the lines of "I'd redeem myself and my family by these bloody beans if I could find the stupid thing. Next time, watch where it lands!"

(And, just so you know, Veruca Salt knows exactly what she's talking about when she says she wants a "Bean Feast." They do exist. Or at least did. Today, we call them company parties, evidently.)

"So," Cokesbury asks. "Why not build a party around the bean?"

So while we're asking questions, here's another: Why not start off this party with a really lame invitation. Cokesbury, of course, is up to the challenge.

Bean porridge hot, bean porridge cold,

Bean porridge in the pot nine days old.

Some like 'em hot, some like 'em cold.

Some like 'em in a pot nine days old.

So we're having a Bean Party and want you sold

On the idea of coming. Like 'em hot or cold?

I have a story about beans nine days old. When I was a kid, we had a manx cat. We also had a father who occasionally liked to dabble in the kitchen. At one family feast, he created a kind of bean casserole that was kind of like chili but chili made by a Dutchman. They were good, but produced in their consumers terrible, bloating gas. When it came down to the last serving, nobody wanted it. So Mom put it in a bowl, heated it up, and offered it to the manx cat who sniffed it, got wide-eyed, then ran away. And this is the cat who would catch bunnies and pheasants and mice and bring them home to eat, so not a particularly picky eater. We called them the Beans that Went Bump in the Night. They sat in the cat's dish for a week. They did not go bad. Dad never used that recipe again.

But back to Cokesbury. Decorations for your Bean Feast are in order:

Use green and yellow crepe paper streamers for decorating. Green bean vines, if they are available at the time of the party, may also be used.

Yes, Abner, let's harvest the beans early and string the plants all over the parlor. That'll liven up ol' Veruca's Bean Party.

And of course since you're hosting a Bean Party, one of the first fairy tales that comes to mind is: Cinderella.

Cinderella Partners. Have each girl place one of her shoes in the middle of the room. The shoes are mixed up and piled in a heap. The boys stand in a circle or in two lines on either side of the room. When the leader's whistle is blown they all grab a shoe. The boy must then find the girl with the mate to his shoe, who becomes his partner during the party.

There are other games, of course. The ol' standby: Fill a jar with beans (count them first, natch) then have your guests guess how many beans are in the jar. Award a bag of jelly beans to the winner. Don't invite Monk.

The Bean Party also offers to professional technical writers a real stumper. Cokesbury suggests the game of Bean Bag Baseball for your Bean Party, but refers you to the index for the game. The index, int its helpful way, refers you first to the Bean Party on page 242. Only in the Athletic Party, on page 283 -- also mentioned in the index -- can you find instructions for Bean Bag Baseball. You professional (read anal retentive) writers out there like me are already twitching. Why not include Bean Bag Baseball in its first mention in the book, rather than the second? What amaterus put this book together? Well, the same amateurs who included a rather amusing and flatulence-implying typo in the Bean Party's opening sentence, which, in honor of the indexers of this book, I mention in my second reference to that opening sentence:

The bean, in times past, was quiet important and played a prominent part in the affairs of men.

So, only modern beans, it seems, have developed that flatulent-inducing quality. Explains the Beans that Went Bump in the Night. That manx cat certainly was a smart one.

On to another game, with another bag of jelly beans for the winner:

Circle Throw Relay. The groups that have been divided for the baseball game may not have a relay. Have five bean bags for each side. Draw a circle about eighteen inches in diameter on the floor in front of each line and about twelve feet away. The first player, when the signal is given, must throw the bean bags one at a time, attempting to throw them into the circle. They must bea ll the way in to count. Then this player must run up to the circle and pick up the bags and run back with them to the next man in line, taking his placea t the rear of the line. There should be a scorekeeper for this game, and he is to give one point for each time the bag is thrown into ther ing to the side whose player gets it in. Give a bag of jelly beans to the side that gets most points and another bag to the side that finishes first.

Now, in case you thought the people at Cokesbury are completely bean illiterate, comes the Jack and the Beanstalk-themed game.

Jack and the Bean Stalk. Lest the leader may have some difficulty in securing a copy of the children's story "Jack and the Bean Stalk," we are giving below the story. Name the characters after the objects mentioned in "Jack and the Bean Stalk," as: Jack, Mother, house, cow, food, beans, window, bed, sky, road, woman, kitchen, giant, Englishman, supper, moneybags, gold, magic hen, table, golden egg, money, magic harp, boy, hatchet, vine. As the story is told and of course elaborated on by the teller as he calls the names of the different things mentioned above, each guest who has the word called must get up and turn around. When the leader uses the words "Bean stalk," all must change places. The leader then tries to get a place, and if he succeeds, the one left out must continue the story.

Given that the story Cokesbury provides is three pages long and in small type, I'm not going to reproduce it entirely here. I will share this amusing little tidbit:

Jack just had time to jump into a big copper kettle beside the fireplace, when in came the Giant crying: "Fee, fi, fo fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman!"

"No, no," said the giant's wife. "It is the crows who have brought raw meat and left it on top of the house Go wash yourself and get ready for supper."

When the giant had eaten his supper, he said to his wife, 'Bring me my magic hen!"

The wife went out and came back with a big, black hen with a shiny red comb.

The Giant put the hen on the table, and roared, "Lay!" and the hen laid an egg, all of gold.

"Lay another!" he cried; and the hen laid another.

The Giant played with the hen until he became tired . . .

There are several things wrong with this story. First of all, who plays with a hen? I grew up with about 60 chickens in our back yard, and I know hens to be fairly dumb, cranky, temperamental  animals not known for their companionability. I'm pretty sure the Giant played with his hen until it crapped on the table again or pecked the back of his hand repeatedly.

Second of all, how big was this hen? It had to have been a giant hen a la The Hoboken Chicken Emergency, else the hen would be laying golden eggs that, to the Giant, would appear to be little bigger than grains of sand. So with a bigger hen in mind -- a bigger, temperamental hen, part of a species known, at least in our back yard, for cannibalism -- how does Jack get the thing down the bean stalk without becoming chicken feed? I know. I'm analyzing a fairy tale. But still.

Since I'm too lazy to repeat the story here, I'd suggest using a few YouTube versions to create your own versions. Using this anime version of the story from Japan, for instance, you could call one of your friends "Character whose mouth animation consists of opening and closing its gob like a portal into another dimension." Be sure to pick a robust individual, because he or she will get a lot of exercise.

Here are a few others:

Muppet Style

1933 Musical Cartoon Style

Disney version

Now it's time to mause your friends with any number of bean-themed games. I'll sum up:

• Bean Bag Jump. Trip your friends as they try to jump over a bitty bean bag tied to a string. Use a Beanie baby for this game to traumatize the more cute-prone female friends in your entourage.
• Pass the Beans. Watch your friends try to suck beans up straws and into their lungs as they attempt to pass beans from one cup to the other.
• And so on.

You're done. Just serve up your Boston Baked Beans with brown bread and butter. And coffee, because alliteration will only take you so far. Avoid the Beans that Went Bump in the Night.

And hold on to your leftovers, because they'll go with your next party like a hand with a glove. Beans and a Hobo Party? What could be a better combination?