5.1.06
Volume 2, Issue 13
Wankers.
At the Museum
Installation 17: Bully for Them!
(you may want to read Installation
16, or go back and start from the beginning)
By Rebecca Collins
James Trehorn called the second meeting of the Picchu! Opening Party & Reception Committee for a Wednesday afternoon. Wednesday, that excruciating day anchored far away from either bracketing weekend; and at a time, 2:30, when lunch was but a fond memory and the end of the work day a daydream. People were glad just to be out of their offices and in human contact, happy to chatter about American Idol or how their kids tortured the frog they found in the garden on Sunday. James was not pleased.
“I’m calling this meeting to order!” James yelled and slammed his open palms down on the conference table.
The sound was a gunshot; a gavel coming down and passing judgment. Everyone jumped and clamped their mouths shut. Phoebe rolled her eyes.
“I hereby do call this second meeting of the Picchu! Opening Party & Reception Committee to order. OK, let’s all look at our agendas.”
James pulled out his copy of the agenda, an agenda he’d typed not fifteen minutes before, and put on his reading glasses as if to make himself familiar with its contents.
“Right. Let’s start by reviewing old business. Old business was brainstorming ideas for the party…”
“I have a new idea for entertainment,” Mary Ellen Seifert said. “There are these Guatemalan guys who play flutes…”
“Right. No, we’re not currently entertaining new entertainment ideas,” James said. “But we were charged with coming up with additional ideas,” Mary Ellen said. “And this flute music…”
“Look, I have an announcement,” James said. “The Picchu! Opening Party & Reception has been purchased by a sponsor.”
“Purchased?” Princepessa Scott asked. “How can someone purchase our party?”
“Well, sponsored, then,” James said. “The party is being sponsored, which means paid for, which means we don’t really get to dictate its content.”
“Wait a minute, I’ve heard those Guatemalan guys,” Corey Feldman said. “And they’re terrific.”
“We’ve now moved,” James said, peering at the agenda. “Onto agenda item two, which is entitled ‘Stormy Productions.’ This is the company that has agreed to sponsor our party and pay for everything. They will even provide valet service, which I think is a nice touch.”
“Bully for them,” Mark Hendron, Assistant Curator of Photography, yelled. He was always yelling things like “Bully for them,” and “Wankers!” at meetings and snickering like a twelve-year-old English school boy. Which he was not. Mark Hendron was from Wisconsin.
“Do they know much about the ancient Incas?” Corey asked.
“No, they produce rock and hip hop concerts,” James said. “Also, I believe they have a traveling circus that tours the U.S., Canada and Guam.”
“I’ve heard of that circus,” Mary Ellen said. “They keep their elephants in leg irons and feed them nothing but apple peels.”
“Really?” Corey asked. “I wonder why apple peels.”
“That’s not our concern,” James said. “Our concern is that they’re giving us a lot of money to open this show and they aren’t going to pass the cost of it on to the patron. Tickets will only be $10 for unlimited entertainment, food and beverage.”
“Open bar?” Phoebe said and immediately turned pink. She hadn’t meant to speak out loud.
People around the conference table exchanged pointed looks. It was widely agreed that Phoebe would need an intervention in the not-too-distant future.
“What I meant,” Phoebe said “Was that I don’t think it’s a good idea to only charge people $10 and have open bar.”
“I think Stormy Productions will be the best judge of what to charge,” James said, careful not to look at Phoebe directly. “This sort of thing is their livelihood. Ours is, of course, art.”
“So what are we here for?” Princepessa asked.
“I need each of you to be in charge of an area. You’ll find out what’s been planned for your area and then you’ll oversee it and make sure things happen according to plan on the night of the party.”
“Will we get to wear headsets?,” Princepessa asked.
“There was mention of headsets,” James allowed.
“I volunteer to be in charge of food,” Princepessa said.
“I’ll be head of entertainment,” Corey said.
“I guess I could oversee the bar area,” Phoebe said.
“Absolutely not,” James said.
“She wouldn’t be bartending,” Mary Ellen said.
“No, Phoebe, you will be…” James ticked down a list of possible areas with a pencil. “You’ll be coats.”
“Coats?” Phoebe asked.
But no one heard her, because they were all vying for whatever interesting or semi-important areas that were left. After which, James announced that event planners from Stormy would be on-site within two weeks to “assess the venue” and give recommendations. The meeting was adjourned.
NEXT
“I’m calling this meeting to order!” James yelled and slammed his open palms down on the conference table.
The sound was a gunshot; a gavel coming down and passing judgment. Everyone jumped and clamped their mouths shut. Phoebe rolled her eyes.
“I hereby do call this second meeting of the Picchu! Opening Party & Reception Committee to order. OK, let’s all look at our agendas.”
James pulled out his copy of the agenda, an agenda he’d typed not fifteen minutes before, and put on his reading glasses as if to make himself familiar with its contents.
“Right. Let’s start by reviewing old business. Old business was brainstorming ideas for the party…”
“I have a new idea for entertainment,” Mary Ellen Seifert said. “There are these Guatemalan guys who play flutes…”
“Right. No, we’re not currently entertaining new entertainment ideas,” James said. “But we were charged with coming up with additional ideas,” Mary Ellen said. “And this flute music…”
“Look, I have an announcement,” James said. “The Picchu! Opening Party & Reception has been purchased by a sponsor.”
“Purchased?” Princepessa Scott asked. “How can someone purchase our party?”
“Well, sponsored, then,” James said. “The party is being sponsored, which means paid for, which means we don’t really get to dictate its content.”
“Wait a minute, I’ve heard those Guatemalan guys,” Corey Feldman said. “And they’re terrific.”
“We’ve now moved,” James said, peering at the agenda. “Onto agenda item two, which is entitled ‘Stormy Productions.’ This is the company that has agreed to sponsor our party and pay for everything. They will even provide valet service, which I think is a nice touch.”
“Bully for them,” Mark Hendron, Assistant Curator of Photography, yelled. He was always yelling things like “Bully for them,” and “Wankers!” at meetings and snickering like a twelve-year-old English school boy. Which he was not. Mark Hendron was from Wisconsin.
“Do they know much about the ancient Incas?” Corey asked.
“No, they produce rock and hip hop concerts,” James said. “Also, I believe they have a traveling circus that tours the U.S., Canada and Guam.”
“I’ve heard of that circus,” Mary Ellen said. “They keep their elephants in leg irons and feed them nothing but apple peels.”
“Really?” Corey asked. “I wonder why apple peels.”
“That’s not our concern,” James said. “Our concern is that they’re giving us a lot of money to open this show and they aren’t going to pass the cost of it on to the patron. Tickets will only be $10 for unlimited entertainment, food and beverage.”
“Open bar?” Phoebe said and immediately turned pink. She hadn’t meant to speak out loud.
People around the conference table exchanged pointed looks. It was widely agreed that Phoebe would need an intervention in the not-too-distant future.
“What I meant,” Phoebe said “Was that I don’t think it’s a good idea to only charge people $10 and have open bar.”
“I think Stormy Productions will be the best judge of what to charge,” James said, careful not to look at Phoebe directly. “This sort of thing is their livelihood. Ours is, of course, art.”
“So what are we here for?” Princepessa asked.
“I need each of you to be in charge of an area. You’ll find out what’s been planned for your area and then you’ll oversee it and make sure things happen according to plan on the night of the party.”
“Will we get to wear headsets?,” Princepessa asked.
“There was mention of headsets,” James allowed.
“I volunteer to be in charge of food,” Princepessa said.
“I’ll be head of entertainment,” Corey said.
“I guess I could oversee the bar area,” Phoebe said.
“Absolutely not,” James said.
“She wouldn’t be bartending,” Mary Ellen said.
“No, Phoebe, you will be…” James ticked down a list of possible areas with a pencil. “You’ll be coats.”
“Coats?” Phoebe asked.
But no one heard her, because they were all vying for whatever interesting or semi-important areas that were left. After which, James announced that event planners from Stormy would be on-site within two weeks to “assess the venue” and give recommendations. The meeting was adjourned.
NEXT