Bricks, by Ray S

Victorian brick-a-brac, whatnots, antimacassars make for a stifling museum-like atmosphere. You could liken it to a visit to the mummies in the museum’s ancient Egypt department—all hushed and stuffy.

Perfectly reproduced in every detail and hermetically sealed, the era of the romanticized 19th century heralded the Post Victorian revival of the 20th century.

The restoration of the rambling home built by a gold mine owner was managed by one Sir Leonardo Q. Brickington, noted historic preservationist and design authority of this period, reportedly from the U.K.

Actually Brickington—formerly AKA in his New York days—Herbby Flassbender; employed as a stock boy and gopher for Bloomingdales display department.

What happened after Herbby completed his Victorian restoration in a little mountain town is not quite clear. However there is a rumor he went on to form a company that sold franchises for architectural plans for building historically accurate 19th century Victorian BRICK “necessities”, more commonly known as privies. The end of this story is lost somewhere in one of his creations.

Moving along, here is another unfinished story. It is 11 PM on a Friday night. The show will begin in half an hour. Long enough to find a good seat and order a tall drink.

Tonight is the opening of a new show at the Silver Pole Boys Club; a review starring BRIQUE BUFFETT and his chorus of BUFF BRIQUETTES.

The house lights dim, canned music begins and the BRIQUETTES costumed as the Village People begin to gyrate to the recorded strains of “YMCA”. The audience joins in; the boys begin the traditional striptease.

Then the stage momentarily goes dark followed by a loud thunderclap and blinding strobe light, heralding the appearance of our star Brique Buffett, his beautiful gym-built body set off by his block Rhinestone studded thong. At this point five silver poles arose from the stage floor. The pole dancing burst forth to the Village People song “San Francisco”.

The club was ecstatic, patrons stripping their shirts and dancing in the box. The poles were getting a glorious polishing and the dancers’ bikinis began to bulge with dollar bills deftly tucked in by appreciative audience.

The temperature of the club as well as the patrons kept rising. The tall gin and tonic was long gone and so was I. the tab paid, I found the front door and escaped the writhing sweaty crowd. For what some have called a “Cow Town,” tonight the Silver Pole Boys Club could have passed for a latter-day reincarnation of the onetime famous NYC Studio 54.

On the way home I wondered what would become of all that sweat, heat and craziness; and you can too.

Once we emerged from the ooze of creation, and the “First Couple” with their misguided offspring, accompanied by knowledge, dressed in snake-drag got the show on the road, and civilization was on its way. The “Ah Hah” moment was the appearance of the adobe brick. From the earth and water came the building blocks of prehistoric architecture, from which followed the culture of mankind. Good and evil (There’s that drag queen snake again.)

The resulting temples built brick by brick, have resulted in wars, power struggles, avarice, and hate; and there are the eternal temples of good bricks that will prevail. Maybe, you can work on the end of this muddy little myth.

© 12 October 2015

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