Not much has happened today, what with the Nor'easter that's blown into town. I went out earlier to Costco and had a heck of a time traversing the streets o' Norfolk thanks to all the flooding.
Fortunately, pictures from the last race I ran were waiting for me in my email and this gem was included:
I guess this would be mildly funnier if the race wasn't on Halloween and the runners were encouraged to wear costumes... But regardless, my slow arse is being chased by a Smurf!! How fantastic is that??
I guess you fine folks don't know of my long-standing love affair with the Smurfs. It's okay, I'm a complex, multifaceted person. I don't expect you to know everything about me. Anyhoo, the Smurfs and I began our lopsided love affair back in the late 70s at The Thoughtfulness Cottage in Middlesex, NJ. At the time, my mother had an obsession with greeting cards and felt the need to visit a (Hallmark, of course) card store at least once a week to stock up on cards that she would ultimately forget to give to anyone. I'm not sure who spotted the Smurfs first -- me, my mother, or my cousin Lori. All I know is that Lori and I wound up in some sort of unspoken competition to collect Smurfs. So every week when my mother would drag me to The Thoughtfulness Cottage, she'd pick up one or two Smurfs for me. And since my grandmother was always with us, there was a good chance I'd get one or two out of her too.
Somehow, I wound up with 180 Smurfs. All shapes, sizes, and various sizes of mushroom houses (if you're not up on Smurf housing, it's ok). The gold mine occurred when my mother gave me about 50 one Easter, each one placed in a separate plastic Easter egg. The collection was so extensive that it was featured in the display case at our local library.
Yes, I realize how embarrassing that is.
My love of the Smurfs continued into the early 80s and extended to their TV show, a cassette tape of their collection of songs substituting most words with "Smurf" or "Smurfy," and my 7th grade Halloween costume. My poor mother banged that thing out the night before Halloween so that I could walk through the halls like a big blue goober. But I loved that costume.
Imagine my chagrin in discovering that I was being chased by one of my favorite things on the planet. Their 50th anniversary was last year and Mom sent me a commemorative Smurf package. Additionally, my good friends Anne and Don came back from Disney World with what was essentially "Drunky Smurf" -- a Smurf with a giant bottle of Champagne.
If only I had turned around. I'd love to know why dude man was dressed like a Smurf. Perhaps he was a kindred spirit. I'm bummed I didn't get the chance to find out, but am THRILLED that I have a picture of me at 40, being chased by a Smurf. :)
