Letters to Holly

Tuesday, August 5

Don't Take Your Guns to Town

I drove all through downtown Asheville to find costume props. The old reliable costume-rental shop under the interstate on-ramp is no more, replaced by The Daily Planet. That would be a fantastic paper name if it weren't a weekly. Which it is.

Also, the nature store in the Grove Arcade is gone. I need to find a parrot stand-in. Something that isn't obviously a sleeptime snuggle toy. I realized that we can use paintball and pellet-gun holsters, and they are both available at large department stores. K-mart gave us one holster, and I need another of the same kind for my musket. We're a bit worried about the weapons regulations for the city and the convention. We've seen hundreds of folks carrying weapons in years passed. The online rules say this:
Please abide by our weapons policy: All weapons must be non-working and peace bonded. No functioning projectile weapons includes water pistols, silly-string guns, and ping-pong pistols. Bladed weapons must be cased or sheathed at all times. No clowning around or showing off in the common areas. Any weapon used in an offensive manner will be confiscated and rule #7 enforced [roughly: don't be a jerk or we'll chuck you]. We expect you to use good judgment; with your help, we can continue to allow peace-bonded weapons - thanks!
We have an obvious toy gun for her and an orange-barreled musket for me. I don't think we'll have to adapt them. Also, we don't have to wield them. So long as they fill the holsters. I still need a leg-holster as the toy design commands. And of course, the parrot. We'll bury the toys in our backpacks as we move through the Atlanta subway system. We have seen Klingons carrying their cardboard swords. But they're Klingons. You don't ef' with Klingons.

Speaking of which: the Great Debate has emerged. Who would win in an all-out fight: Starfleet or The Empire? I say Empire. Bureaucracy would stymie Starfleet. Also, one borg ship almost wiped out humanity, and the Empire can make Death Stars.

The giant national comic convention a few weekends back featured some women dressed as the same character, but they half-assed it. Behold:

The gals in green are close, but they together might make a decent costume. They are both wearing jumpsuits. Your Sister, however, has a flight suit. BIG difference. She has the hat, has the pilot pin, has the holster and gloves and boots. She's going to embarrass any other Lady Jayne who might dare approach us. Also, she looks like the character. That's the superior playing card. Too many gals go to conventions dressed as vampy versions of characters. They are infidels. Hot, trashy infidels.

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I mowed the lawn yesterday in this hair-melting heat. The garden is still OK, and I'll need to stake the tomato plants before we leave for vacation. I have a splinter from a squash plant. Some varieties are packing nasty thorns for the vines to cling.

Picture of the Day
I'm eager to swim on vacation. I haven't swum since the Washington bed-and-breakfast. A year ago.

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