Week Twenty-Eight: Celebrities Party

We all love a celebrity. Even Homer Simpson, in creating his Hollywood Musem of Jerks, admitted to loving celebrities to the point he put their underpants on display. So why not, the folks at the Cokesbury Party Book thought, put on a Celebrities Party so all of our chums can dress up as their favorite celebrities and pretend to be glamorous and famous and important for an evening?

Even the invitation is inspiring. Hope you know someone named Smith:

If your name is not in Who’s Who,

You can be great just the same.

Come dressed like a celebrity, any will do

If he’s in America’s Hall of Fame.

Come out to Smith’s on Friday night,

And act the part you dress.

We’ll live in the past and present both,

And have a good time? Well, I guess!

So, the long march equating celebrity status with greatness began long before anyone in the modern age realizes. But of course I’m sure there were cavemen who followed the likes of Oog, Inventor of Fire, and Mog, Inventor of the Wheel, if not for their intellectual prowess but because they were famous.

A cultural note: Cokesbury isn’t dissing their party when they suggest they “guess” they’ll have a good time at this party. The English language is ever-evolving. Back then, “I guess” was the equivalent of today’s “Of course,” or to put it more colloquially, “Duh.”

But then there’s celebrity trouble. Back then, there were no Charles Nelson Reilleys, no Paul Lyndes, or whomever is the hot, edgy character popular today among those who are not hopelessly stuck in the 1970s as I am. Cokesbury has a few celebrities to suggest.

First, Celebrities of the Past:

Alexander Hamilton (Ed: or, alternately, Aaron Burr)

Andrew Jackson

Edith Cavel

Woodrow Wilson

Knute Rockne

John Philip Sousa

Gen. Robert E. Lee

Gen. Ulysses S. Grant

Betsy Ross

Thomas Alva Edison

Abraham Lincoln

Carrie Nation

Pocahontas

(Note: It seems the name "Gertrude Ederle" flummoxed either the writer or proofreader of this text. The only reason I found out the correct spelling were the clues scattered throughout the book. I felt like a treasure hunter.)

Now, Celebrities of the Present:

Douglas Fairbanks

Mary Pickford

Herbert Hoover

Calvin Coolidge

Charles Lindbergh

Will Rogers

Admiral Richard E. Byrd

Gertrude Elder

Buddy Rogers

Charlie Chaplain

Clara Bow

Babe Ruth

Helen Wills Moody

Helen Hicks

Just to illustrate how far American culture has evolved – if evolved is the proper term for it – in the ensuing 70-some-odd years, here’s a list of celebrities one might pick today:

Perez Hilton

Al Gore

Steve Jobs

Bernie Madoff

Ronald Reagan

Bill Clinton

Larry King

Madonna

Michael Jackson

Johnny Depp

Tiger Woods

So you’ve still got your jocks, your politicians, your actors, your wonks, your captains of industry, your brainless twits (that might be redundant with politicians), and your reformers and rabble-rousers. But with a lot less clothing, particularly in the case of Madonna. And Larry King.

Guys: For a real challenge, I suggest going as Carrie Nation, pictured here. Bonus points if you can find and bring a little hatchet, and then know the story of why Miss Nation was so hatchetlery famous.

"Who is it, Norman?"

For Cokesbury Party Blog readers already a-prickle with the nationalistic bias of the lists proffered by Cokesbury, don't worry. Cokesbury admits its bias. And encourages it further (in other words, 'Heads, get ready to explode.').

The list of famous persons suggested here is confined to American names, so it would be well to use the national colors in the decorations. Streamers of red, white, and blue, with bunting and flags, would be a very effective setting for such a group of people.

You might have to go to Wal-Mart to buy more bunting. Put a plastic bag over your head so your Whole Foods friends don't see you.

Now we all know dressing up as celebrities is only hafl the fun. We also need to act like celebrities in order to make the evening a success. This is probably a good reason not to dress like modern celebrities, whose behavior as of late has boiled down to defrauding via Ponzi schemes, organizing dog fights, getting pancreatic cancer and inventing even more useless, expensive gadgetry, and bloviating. Instead, Cokesbury suggests the following: 

Have the impersonations which are given below written on slips of paper and put in a box. The lader draws them out one by one; and if she draws number seven, she starts counting at the head of the line of guests and counts to seven. The person who is number seven must do the impersonation indicated. In every case she starts from the same person, counting frmo that person to the number whis is on the slip of paper. The following are suggested impersonations:

 Betsy Ross making the flag

Babe Ruth knocking a home run

Charlie Chaplin making a movie

Gertrude Elder swimming in the English Channel (Ed: Ah! One of the clues to Gertrude Edler's real identity!)

John Philip Sousa directing a symphony orchestra (Ed: Didn't he direct marching bands?)

Mayor James J. Walker making an after-dinner speech. (Ed: I have NO idea who this guy is. Maybe he's the guy who said "Dy-no-MITE!")

Herbert Hoover fishing

Admiral Byrd flying over the North Pole

Tom Mix on horseback

Charles Lindbergh making love to Anne Lindbergh (Ed: Honest, this is exactly how this suggestion is written. Please keep it G-rated, for the children.)

Aimee Semple McPherson delivering a sermon. (Ed: Make one of your liberal friends do this, but a la "Beavis and Butthead" in No Laughing)

 

 

Martha and George Washington doing the minuet

Clara Bow flirting

Calvin Coolidge riding his mechanical horse

Buddy Rogers directing a jazz orchestra

 

You know, I kinda like the image of one of our less-colorful presidents using a mechanical horse as an exercise device, and "whooping it up" like a cowboy as he rode it. All we seem to get nowadays are Vietnam vets and community organizers with good pectoral muscles. Can't have everything, I guess.

 

 

"Yee-Haw!"

 

But let's move on to celebrating another of the 1930's presidents, one Herbert Hoover, in a game that I'm sure would make Archie Bunker go postal:

The Stock Market Has Crashed. The guest impersonating Herbert Hoover should start this game off. Have him to rise as the guests are seated in a circle with all the chairs filled, and as he calls guests by their famous names they rise and folow him around. When he says, "The stock market has crashed," all try to get charis. The one left out has to continue the game, calling the names as before.

One final game, then we're on to refreshments.

The Head of George Washington. Give guests a half cake of Ivory soap and a paring knife. The boys, of course, may use their pocket knives. Any kind of sharp instrument could be substituted for a paring knife. Give a prize to the one who can sculpture the best head of George Washington. Newspaper whould be provided so that the scraps of paper will not get on the floor.

This game, in its four simple sentences, is a minefiled of anachronisms for modern man. Soap, fortunately, is universal, though with the advent of liquid soap, such carving activity might be harder to accomplish. And, of course, no one dares nowaways to carry their own personal pocket knives or any other sharp instruments for fear of being expelled from school for having it on school property, kicked off an airplane, tasered if one brings said sharp instrument out in public or frowned upon by the same people who want to put padding around poles in London to prevent texticated individuals from injuring themselves in a collision. Pad the world, Mitch Benn said. Save it from a soap-carving activity. Then there's the newspaper thing. You might get away from this by lining the floor with iPod instructions, but they're so damn small you'd need a thousand of them to do any good. And you can't have it outside, what with all those phosphates from the soap leaching into the soil. Maybe you'd better collect the shavings in a bowl, invest in a soap-making kit, or just bag the whole thing and use the suggested alternate refreshment as carving material, as there's no way anyone is going to eat it.

Refreshments, as suggested by Cokesbury, include the mundane (cake and ice cream with Boston tea) to the absolutely frightening. And I quote:

Another suggestion would be a salad of cottage cheese, covering the cheese with crushed pineapple, and topping with mayonnaise. Serve with crackers and coffee.

And barf bags.

That's it, thankfully, until next week and the gala Fish Under the Sea Dance. No, wait. The gala King Neptune's Carnival, which Cokesbury describes as a "water carnival or pageant). Bring your swim fins and snorkel. Leave the cottage cheese at home.

Week Twenty-Five: Fourth of July Party

This day and age, in some circles, patriotism is a bad word. In some ways, I have to agree. You've got to consider what one is being patriotic to. My father saw many patriotic Germans during World War II, for example, as a civilian in The Netherlands. But if we can balance patriotism with everlasting vigilance, then perhaps it's okay.

Then again, it might be more fun if we balanced patriotism with Everlasting Gobstoppers. Sometimes those who fret over what patriotism can mean in the wrong hands just ought to loosen up a bit. So on that vein, on with the John Philip Sousa and "Stars and Stripes Forever.



Let Sousa's song spool while you read, as there is no animation nor photo slide show with this piece. And don't read the comments on YouTube, either. We're strictly in the Patriotism/Everlasting Gobstopper Mode on the Cokesbury Party Blog.

Here's the invitation, which should be written on a cardboard cut in the shape of a flag, or on a bell to represent the Liberty Bell. You know. That thing in Philadelphia that rang when people didn't fret about the United States being the Evil Empire:

On the birthday of our country,

We're having a party to celebrate.

At eight o'clock on the Fourth of July,

Come to Pilcher's, and don't be late.

I have no idea who this mysterious Pilcher is, and the Internet, in its vast Sargasso sea of information, is no help. It can't possibly be Sergeant Pilcher, though the readers, author, and publisher of the Cokesbury Party Book would likely approve of his actions. So I can assume you can just substitute another last name for Pilcher in the invitation and leave it at that. Unless you want to send your guests some anti-invitations. And I love that Sgt. Pilcher's nickname is "Nobby."

Decorations for the party, or so says Cokesbury, will be "easy":

Use flags and bunting and red, while, and blue streamers for decorations. Pictures of great American characters may be hung on the walls.

It sounds easy until you consider that the likes of Homer Simpson, Peter Griffin and Courtney Love hardly count as great Americans, although Hank Hill might do in a pinch.

On to the first game:

The Names of the States. Give guests blank sheets of paper and pencils. Let couples work together. Ask them to write all the names of the states. This may look easy, but it is doubtful if any will finish the forty-eight in ten minutes. Give a prize to the one finishing first, unless the game is too long, in which case give a prize to the one having the longest list.

You read right: Forty-eight states. This is in 1932, remember. Alaska and Hawaii weren't made states until the 1950s. So fly the flag they used in A Christmas Story and see how many of your guests notice.

The next game is a good one to play with guests who arrive in full What is Patriotism umbrage, ready to do battle with anyone who dares suggest that the Fourth of July have meaning outside of Chinese fireworks and a few hamburgers burned on the grill (it should be noted that the really fierce anti-patriots won't even be thrilled about the fireworks and burgers; these are the ones you want to send to Pilcher.

The National Anthem: Do You Know It? Give to each guest the words of the "Star-Spangled Banner" written with the italicized words blank. Let them see which couple can fill the blanks correctly in the quickest time:

O! say can you see by the dawn's early light
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.
O! say does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines in the stream:
'Tis the star-spangled banner! Oh long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

O! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved home and the war's desolation!
Blest with victory and peace, may the heav'n rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: 'In God is our trust.'
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

(Interesting to note: Cokesbury leaves out the third verse, and ignores completely a fifth verse added to the anthem during the Civil War. Impress your freinds by singing it in its entirety, with lyrics here.)

For amusement, be sure to videotape this game and watch the anti-patriots for signs of stroking out at certain passages, including the "In God is our trust" passage. Extra party points to you if these folks and a Barry Goldwater/Ronald Reagan Republican get in a brawl in the street after this game concludes. And once the radicals and the Commies have left, you and the rest of your guests may alter this game and do kind of a Star-Spangled Banner Mad Libs. (My favorite motto, from Ghostbusters, "We're ready to believe you!"

On to the next game:

Washington Surveying Relay. It is a well-known fact that Washington was once a surveyor. Line up the players for a relay race. They may be divided into three groups, the Reds, Whites, and Blues. This may be done by pinning on red, white, and blue ribbons, having an equal number of each. The three groups face a goal about fifteen or twenty feet away. Give to the player at the head of the line a yardstick. They are to measure the distance to the goal and back with a yardstick, laying it down and picking it up each time. The players, as soon as they have finished, give the yardstick to the next one in line and take their places at the back of the line.

An alternate version of this game is to measure the distance in smoots.

Here's another game:

Spin the Plate. Play the old game Spin the Plate in a little different way. Have one player spin the plate and call the name of a state or capital. The boy who represents the state or the girl who represents the capital must each catch the plate before it falls. If she fails to do this, she must pay a forfeit. However, let us do this in a different way. Let us have a number of forfiets written out, and as soon as she fails to catch the plate she draws out one of the forfeits and must do the stunt indicated. After she had finished her stunt, the spins the plate and calls the name of a state or capital, and the game proceeds as before. The following are some forfeits which would be suitable for this party:

• Paul Revere mounting his hores
• Benjamin Franklin flying his kite
• Washington chopping down his cherry tree
• Pocahontas saving Captain John Smith
• Patrick Henry making a speech
• Andrew Jackson fighting a duel
• Daniel Boon ekilling a bear
• Carrie Nation wrecking a saloon
• Billy Sunday preaching a sermon
• Abraham Lincoln splitting rails
• The Statue of Liberty
• Or, possibly, Sgt. Pilcher's song

 And another one, where we get to celebrate a real renegade in American history:

Fireworks: John Brown's Alive. Of course in a Fourth of July party, there must be some fireworks. Matches are used for this stunt. The leader strikes a match and gives it to a player, telling him that he has the privilege of passing it as long as it is alive, that is, as long as it is burning or is a live coal. He merely is to say "John Brown is alive" and pass it on to the next player; but if it is not alive, the next player does not have to take it.Whoever has it when it is dead must have a mustache painted on them with the burned match. Also they must start another match.

I don't get it, either. Maybe they were hard up for entertainment in the 1930s, as this video of a 1930s parade might also convey:



The next game is meant to enrage the BG/RR Republicans in the group, if any are left after the Star-Spangled Banner-inspired street brawl:

Taxation without Representation. The guests are seated in a circle. The leader tells them that she is going to organize a Revolutionary Club. In order to become a member one must be initiated. The leader says "the initiation ceremony consists in saying what I tell you and doing what I do." The leader then says, indicating one of the guests, "Say, 'Taxation without representation.'" [Editor's note: The more clever of you in the Cokesbury Party Blog world already know where this one is going.] In sayin this the leader makes some peculiar gesture with the hands, as to emphasize what she says. Usually the guest will try to imitate the gesture, when the point is to merely say "Taxation," as he has been told to say taxation without (saying) representation.

Plan on this game lasting about thirty seconds.

Now, the party is over. Cokesbury, oddly, says "it is the custom in many sections of the country" to have fireworks on the Fourth of July. Maybe there were sections where the anti-patriots without Everlasting Gobstopper vigilance were already prevalent. And, of course, one must have "eats" during the fireworks. Cokesbury recommends red, white, and blue brick ice cream, or fruit punch and cake. All of which sounds patriotic. Nah. Give me a burned burger any day.

That's it until next week and we turn on the guffaws during Stunt Night. I'm off to watch the fireworks. Oooh! Ahhhh!