Twenty Things About TARcon
Amy: So you're sublimating your anxiety about this party through the quest for the perfect lipstick.
Alli: Yeah. Pretty much.
This tale originally started with a paragraph of shout-outs and thank-yous, and it got to be so long that there was absolutely no way I could leave it in. It was a page long when I finally bid it farewell. I hope the sentiments it expressed will be clear anyway.
What I brought home: One bottle of Canadian Club. One very sizable bottle of Marti lime-mint rum. One Molson's. (Note to self: Have apparently given appearance of being a lush. Watch for drinking references.) One box of champagne truffles. One bag full of Sephora-purchased lotions and potions. One bag of Canadian promotional tchotchkes, including (but not limited to): Canada tee shirt, Canada pen, two rah-rah Canada pins, Canada bear, Toronto key chain, Canada shot glass. One stuffed white sheep (named Whisperer during trip home). One goody-bag including TARcon luggage tag, TAR Passport, one box of Boston Baked Beans candy (snerk), one pack of Doublemint gum (snerk again), one color-your-own Hating Hat (with crayons), one toothbrush (ha!), one pink lei, and one songbook with all the sets of theme song lyrics.
Twenty minutes or so before the end of the finale, I hear this enormous scream. The first thing I see when I look over is Brennan's fist as he ascends the stairs. He's with Kevin and Drew, and so the entry of the three of them generates great excitement, of course. But it appears that what has caused the scream is that he is with Danny and Oswald. I am seated close to the top of the stairs, which is quite frankly as far as they get. They make it up the stairs, they round the corner into the bar area where we are, and they are mobbed. Flashes fire. Screaming occurs. More screaming. More flashes. When I meet them, they reach right over and smear me with glitter. Normally, I have a fairly strict no-touching-the-recapper's-chest rule, but on this one occasion, I elect to waive it.
Remember when we talked about how their peculiar brand of grace seems to be the ability to put people at ease anywhere? That in South African townships or ritzy hotels or airports, they seem to know how to behave? The party is exactly like that. Confronted with a room full of crazy people who adore them with a devotion bordering on the unnerving, they are extremely patient and friendly to everyone. I actually manage to miss out on quite a bit of their more (ahem) notable antics, but I take note of a few things. Oswald's hair is long-ish and wavy, and as I have already noted, he looks like a porn star from the 1970s. I am enthused about this development. Danny looks like he does on TV, but he's thinner, and he looks a bit shorter once he stands next to Oswald, who is tall. We tease Oswald about how cute his mom was when she came to the forums, and Danny chuckles that his mom may just have to work on her English just so she can participate.