Susskins Central Dispatch

Talk about your stocking stuffers

I swear, LP Cover Lover is trying to kill me with laughter.

I think the kids would agree

Forty five of the little nippers showed up tonight. Easily the best turnout we’ve had here. Especially after last year’s dismal showing, which Fred remembers as being twenty six or so kids. It was horribly cold and windy last year. Just miserable. (The glass of poison in last year’s display actually froze solid.) Today it was clear, calm and warm. Perfect weather for wearing actual costumes, as opposed to snowsuits.

The front window display was a big success. One kid: “It’s a giant green eyeball!”

Fred managed to make a couple of them shriek. And lots of them were “whoa!” at the amount of candy we handed out. I also spent some time lurking by the big spruce tree, observing the goings on, and I heard a group coming. The kids were saying, “I want to go to the scary house.” That’s us. We have a reputation. A WELL-DESERVED reputation, I might add. We do this holiday right.

And our two favorite kids visited us again. They always have big elaborate costumes made out of cardboard, always completely unique and original. This year: a construction crane (complete with aircraft warning lights) and a traffic signal. That’s a bucket of awesome right there. When’s the last time you saw a kid dressed as a traffic signal or a crane? Forty points for unique, kids.

And as usual, the little ones were just adorable. Little fairy princesses, and tiny ghosts. And one little boy who was a fireman. His mom was behind him, coaching him through the process, and he handled it pretty well. Absolutely the cutest thing ever, in his little yellow slicker and rubber boots, holding a plastic jack-o-lantern pail.

Compare and contrast with the two older boys who were dressed as The Predator and a gorilla. You never go wrong with a gorilla costume, and a Predator mask is nothing but win. I love seeing kids using a pillowcase, too. Dream big, boys.

The kids all hit pay dirt when they ring our doorbell. We give out big handfuls, with an emphasis on good candy. So we have lots of happy giggly children leaving our house.

I love this holiday.

or silly, depending

This year, we’re trying something new. We’re going to run the following in our front window.

I downloaded the full video from the guy’s website. (Six bucks, Canadian. Well worth it.) And I borrowed a laptop and a projector from work. Fred bought a white bedsheet. I think total we’re out about ten fifteen bucks for the whole thing.

Let’s see if any of the little kiddies wet their pants this year.

Well? Is it?

If you want to know if it’s Christmas, go here.

The kind that beg for candy

We’re going to do something a little different this year. We’re going to run the Hallowindow show in our front window. I have access to projectors at work, so it’ll be simple to do. If I can score one, that is. They all seem to be checked out at the moment.

I love stuff like this. So does Fred. As a result, our house is very popular with the little ghouls, despite having scared a couple of them. But every single one has braved the fear, and gotten candy.

We’ll see if the giant seeking eyes are too much for them.

What is with these odd Christian albums?

LP Cover Lover keeps finding these gems.

Don’t get me wrong; I’m quite confident that the young lady was well-loved, and overcame some very tough psychological issues. This is a brave picture, one I’m not sure I’d be brave enough to sit for. But the photo produces a double-take. A tough situation made worse by bad photography, magnified by bad design.

Yow.

When he plays that one song, I taste copper

Today, I listened to Ruby Vroom by Soul Coughing. Holy cow, why have I not listened to these guys before?

They were an alt-rock/jazz band in the nineties. I say alt-rock only because they’ve acquired that label due to being kind of unquantifiable. The lead guy and brain of the band, Mike Doughty, described their music as “deep slacker jazz.” That’s about as close as anyone can get.

Take some odd jazz, add sampling, half-sung freak-out poetry, electronica, and wrap it in a thin layer of punk. Weird, incredibly weird. I like it a lot. My favorite track so far is Bus to Beelzebub, which takes Raymond Scott’s Powerhouse and transforms it into some sort of demonic wheezing monstrosity played on xylophones and bass guitar.

Powerhouse is, of course, the most famous song that everyone has heard and no one can name. I digress.

Fred is busily tracking down more Soul Coughing for me, and has also produced Mike Doughty’s latest solo album, Golden Delicious. It’s significantly more tuneful than his Soul Coughing work, and very engaging in its own right.

I love it when I find unexpected gold amid the massive amounts of mud and stones in the music world.

Wiley, they is

Just saw an older attorney chasing a younger attorney. Caught up with him and shoulder-checked him into the elevator door.

Must have needed to establish dominance.

Someone spotted her in Macon, Georgia. She’s okay.

From Rob’s Place:

She’s 14-year old McKenzie “Kenzie” Church from the upstate in South Carolina (Spartanburg, Greenville). She could be anywhere most likely in the Carolinas or Georgia.

Pass this on.

Apparently Gospel is tied closely to hairspray

Another absolute gem at LP Cover Lover.

Must have been difficult maneuvering in houses with low ceilings or hanging fixtures.

And other wastes of time

Can anyone honestly say that a presidential debate has actually changed his mind on who to vote for? Seriously?

Just seems like a gigantic waste of time to me. Whoever you favor, the debate is going to do nothing but reinforce your notion that the other guy is a creep/liar/idiot, and your guy is the best thing since prime rib.

Pass.