Sunday, March 02, 2008

A Lost Watch Found, the Build a Bear Workshop, the Sukura Japanese Steak House and the Sorrow Hill Kickoff Party

You know, Gentle Reader, it was a busy day today, lest there be no doubt. I believe the title says it all. Welcome to my world.

Let’s just go in chronological order, ok?

“But Evil Chicken, it’s just a watch, what’s the big deal?”

Excuse me?

I recently lost my watch and turned over my bedroom looking for it today. I have a tad bit of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and I couldn’t rest until I found my Seiko Kinetic watch. It had been missing for about four days and, although I have a Coleman Camping watch as a back up, it’s just not my Seiko. You see my Seiko and I have been through many an adventure together – no really. We’ve been diving off the breakers at Assateague Island, on countless geocaches, and have survived many a pool party together, it’s taken its knocks and it has proved itself a worthy companion time and time again. It was missing. Something had to be done. I had to take action. I checked under the bed at least three times to no avail. Under my dresser? Check. Under my bed stand? Check. Mother Hen opened a drawer and, low and behold, there it was!

Man, I love that woman.

Man, I love that watch.

What’s this about “Build a Bear”?

Capitalism. Man, there’s nothing like it. Case in point – the “Build a Bear Workshop”. If you have access to children and you’ve been to a mall than you understand the seductive siren call of the stuffed animal cult that the “Build a Bear Workshop” is.

Oh my goodness.

What first struck me was the shear amount of humanity that frequents this establishment. There was an Irish family holding up the line as Chick 3.0 and I stepped into the boundaries of the place of business. I was tempted to call immigration on them just so the line would move faster. For some reason they had chosen a similar skin to stuff that Chick 3.0 had chosen.

“Oh bother,” as Pooh Bear, says. BTW, where I used to find “Pooh Bear” charming and an integral part of my childhood, I cannot stand the filthy blighter today. The well’s dun been poisoned.

The Irish family moved on. It did not matter. You see, any fears of a recession and our failing economy must be false because people are more that willing and able to spend their dollars at the “Build a Bear Workshop.” Everyone who has or is in close proximity to a child has brought them to this obscene and exploitative place of business.

Crazy? You bet. It just doesn’t matter. After the helpful, employee and Chick 3.0 stuffed the bear Chick 3.0 was then instructed to brush and comb her new Best Friend under the blowers and then to pick out clothing for her new Best Friend.

You know what, I do believe that a little bit of explanation is in order here for us to continue. The “Build a Bear Workshop” is a capitalist’s dream comes true. YOU (or rather your offspring, or grand-offspring or significant child other) choose a skin to stuff, ranging anywhere from $12.00 to $ 25.00 (we had a coupon and Chick 3.0 chose a $22.00 skin that resembles a Husky Dog). We are then led to a woman who by some strange magical powers enchanted my child to dance and spin and pick out a heart for her new FRIEND.

There is something macabre and grotesque about this process.

Chick 3.0 was instructed to stick a heart and a voice box into the skin and to stand on a pedal to pump her chosen skin full of stuffing.

“You know, Honey,” I began. “Dogs don’t like clothes.”

“You think so?” she asked.

“No doubt about it.” I said. “I’m the same way.” And with that my daughter and I – in a line that stretched around the store, mind you – began to maniacally giggle. It’s good to scare the straights every now and then. We were ushered over to the “Birth Certificate Center” or rather the “LET’S GET ALL YOUR PERSONAL INFORMATION CENTER.” And as happy capitalists we complied. We were now deemed clean to go to and to participate in the “Bearville” web site – once we pay our debt to the cult, mind you.

Life is good – or rather a 7 year-old Chick 3.0 feels that way.

Moving on…

Chick 2.0’s 11th birthday happened this past week and to celebrate we took her and her best friend out to the Sukura Japanese Steak House, Hibachi Grill just passed the Hamilton Mall in Mays Landing. Have you ever done Hibachi, Gentle Reader? If not, find one near you and go. Mother Hen and I have been only a handful of times and we have always wanted to take the kids so tonight was the night. They loved it. So did we. I had the Filet Mignon and Scallops and it rocked. Mother Hen jumped on the Filet and Shrimp while the girls got the chicken. Wonderful. Amazing feats of fire and cooking displayed right before your eyes. Much fun was had. Go, you’ll like it too.

It was a busy night. After dinner we hit Starbucks and then, after we traveled to the MVP Sports Bar in Buena, NJ. Man, what a crowd and most of them were there to wish a local filmmaker, Mr. Ronald DiPrimio well with his picture, “Sorrow Hill”. Mother Hen and I stopped in to do just that. As I’ve stated before, Ron is a truly talented guy and I can’t wait to see how this current project of his takes flight. He’s going to be one to watch. No doubt. He’s going to be shooting the trailer next weekend at a great location that I’m not giving away.

How cool is that?

If you are interested in filmmaking and want to read the ins and outs of making a project happen then you’ve got to check out Ron’s site here: All the best bro.

“So, Evil Chicken – what have you been up to?”

Days like these, baby. Days like these.


mommanator said...

well no one can say you aren't trying to keep the economy alive! How in the world did you do all this in one weekend-you rob a bank or did some royalties come in! LOL
My daughter has spent so much money in Build a bear I almost won't let her go in there- ya know her the one that worked with us!She always finds an excue- O one of my nieces or nephews needs one- my cousin is having a baby- and the list goes on!

Evil Chicken said...

“Build a Bear” is a scary place in the universe. We got lucky since we had a coupon AND because dogs don’t like clothes.

: )