A birthday can be celebrated in myriad ways. And as a singing telegram artist who often gets the distinct privilege of participating firsthand, I'm here for it. Follow me down the rabbit hole, and allow me to tell you a tale :)
Following a recent musical delivery as The White Rabbit, I presented the recipient with a popup book. The book described the scavenger hunt that Pam, the bday gal, was invited to embark on. The book’s initial clue led Pam to a nearby puzzle box filled with hand-carved figures. The handmade box contained “Alice dollars” and another clue. The custom currency was legal tender at Black Box Bakery, where another box awaited. This second box contained a tabletop “Drink Me” coffee puzzle, which, upon completion, sent Pam to Ziggi's Coffee. The coffee purchased with Alice dollars came with a cryptex. The tiny Mad Hatter's hat inside contained a geo-location, which led Pam to her final gift in Lakewood Heritage Park.
The takeaway? Never settle for a mere sheet cake. If Sean Rice can lead Pam on the adventure described above, your friends and family can do better ;)
It's been 438,000 hours and 18,250 days
Since his birth, I did the math, hey hey hey hey
Hot-wired golf carts when he was teen aged
With co-conspirators, hey hey hey hey
Abandoned carts once the joyrides were done
In the lake, pool and elevator
Delinquents were whisked off to a prison
but they were just visiting with Scared Straight
(an at-risk youth program)
No one, Booster, no one compares 2 u
Secret Oktober was the boy band
that he was a member of
They were not the best band in the land
But warmed up Salt N Pepa once (push it, push it real good!)
'You're My Only Lover' was their tune
There are only two chords
I could have penned this to it but you
Y'all would've been so bored, bored, bored
Not a d!ckhead, but was a deckhand
For a big @$$ antique ship
Was in entourage of a gay man
Said gay Brit was rich
Booster busked in London for six months
Was he turning tricks?
In Italy, Booster lived with monks
Killing goats, but celibate? Imagine it...celibate?!
(On a related note, Stephinity may be the only gal here he hasn't slept with)
Learned Kung Fu that Bruce Lee invented
A black belt in masturbation?
Still fathered two boys, but killed one kid
The lactose allergic one
Booster fed a Cheeto to said kid
(to be fair, who knew Cheetos contained bona fide cheese?)
Medics revived his son
Ice cream, in his kid's eye, Booster dripped
Son looked like an alien, alien, alien
(If Booster ever teaches Parenting 101, warn EVERYONE you know to steer clear)
The mushroom chocolates in the icebox
Loki ate a few
When, daily, Booster was smoking pot
Didn't notice his son was too
Five bucks, to a kid, that is a lot
So sand, Loki consumed
Liam and Loki were sparring off
Spoken: Booster gave up trying to stop 'em, said, 'Just don't kill him dude'
This one time at Burning Man, this fucking guy
This guy fucked a dolphin (don't ask me)
Swore brownies were micro-dosed just right
Made partygoers sick
Litter boxes won't do for this guy
In toilets, his cat shits
Once drew a face on his bare behind
Smoked a lit cigarette with it – LIT, LIT
Cinnamon Swallowsworth is his drag name
Looks good in a dress
There's a meme with his doppelganger
It says, 'Your pussy is wet'
Fantasizes about becoming mist
And being inhaled by a lady
Caite, she calls Booster her little bitch
Bat calls him Shaman Shady
“Nipples in the Sand” - that's the name of the song I was hired to sing yesterday. It's a ditty that was concocted by the intended bday gram recipient and her sister (my customer) when they were kids. The intended recipient is the lead prosecutor at a Colorado courthouse. Her sister (the customer) hoped to surprise / embarrass / make her sibling laugh. She requested a risque costume, so I suggested a stripper cop look – a ballsy move (even for me) considering the venue. Courthouse security staff were unsurprisingly inquisitive when I arrived in cosplay cop garb with my guitar and music stand in hand. But they hesitantly let me in the lobby and called the target recipient down. I launched into the opening line of “Nipples in the Sand” when she appeared: “Walking down the beach one stormy day...” Probably anticipating the approaching, potentially mortifying hook, she shut me down with the quickness. “Thank you. You're great. I'm sure my sister put you up to this, but you can go now.” For the rest of you, here's how the song climaxes:)
“Nipples in the Sand”
Walking down the beach one stormy day
saw a little orange thing and had to say
Nipples in the sand
Nipples in the sand
In lieu of a full IRL delivery, I filmed a rendition of the tune for the customer. She apologized for her sister's rudeness, including this insightful gem: “Maybe she's still traumatized by the dildo I sent to her work.”
Estes Park played a pivotal role in my origin story. I was reminded of the Colorado mountain town's part in my unconventional career last week when a singing telegram customer enlisted me to play Grim Reaper for a fiftieth birthday there. Because I don't get booked there often, I couldn't resist telling her about my history with the place.
When I was fourteen, I attended a Methodist youth retreat in Estes called Up With Youth. An annual talent show was part of the event. One of that year's participants was a fellow fourteen year-old named Kent Lambert. Lambert sang an original song, accompanying himself on the piano. I had an epiphany of sorts during his performance. I’d been studying music since I was four or five. And I was an adept writer who’d dabbled in poetry. Songwriting was basically fusing the two arts. Growing up in a small town, I had never personally known a songwriter before. But I had just witnessed someone my own age perform a tune he'd concocted himself. If he could do it, I rationalized, then I could too. And two years later, I followed in his footsteps, accompanying my rudimentary original song with acoustic guitar. I probably wasn't very good yet, but the thrill was palpable. Plus, I played a Nirvana song in a cabin and one girl said, “If we weren’t at a church camp right now, I’d sleep with you.”
After relaying this anecdote to the customer (minus the Nirvana part), I suggested that writing personalized lyrics would be a phenomenal addition to the planned set list. She was all about it. I utilized the intel she compiled to pen a spoof of The Grateful Dead's “Ripple” for the Deadhead I was about to serenade. And it absolutely killed – pun intended. The dinner party, seated at a balcony table which overlooked the lake, enjoyed the show so much that they invited me to sit down for the remainder of the meal. Later, I popped over to the Stephen King-inspiring Stanley Hotel for some Reaper selfies and a spontaneous bannister slide in front of a ghost tour group.
Sample parody song lyrics:
What were you wearing the first time you met her?
She'll tell you, a memory like an elephant
If you are her pal, you might have a tchotchke
Phoebe from Friends is basically her twin
She's the best wing gal, if there's someone you're into
She will nudge you indiscreetly towards them
'Cause you might be shy, but she's got you covered
Matchmaking is one of her many gifts
If there is a cake that's missing its frosting
It's likely Kris just might be the culprit
nightly snack attacks, take the shirt off of her back
But there's no chance of sharing her ice cream
Reaper Image: Michael Hystead
