Lois Johansen

Funeral for an Action Figure?

revellowatch@hotmail.com — Thu, 16 Jan 2003 20:51:01 GMT

Searched Amazon and E-bay for books on plotting and planning as well as entrapment with little or no success. Some of the titles were very scary and make me wonder if dealing with the Police is such a great idea after all. They are pretty wily – and have weapons. Plan B…Plan B. What I need is a mole – someone on the inside. My daughter is Dawn’s age, but doesn’t really like her that much – besides I’ve no guarantee she would be safe there OR that she wouldn’t like it better and stay. I found another note on the lawn this afternoon: “If you have any action figures, please leave them on the porch.” Later on I saw the strange little man digging what looked like a tiny grave next to the tree in the backyard. He looked around nervously, then pulled what appeared to be homemade action figures, out of his pockets and lined them on either side of the “grave”, then it looked like he was singing. After a few moments of kneeling with his head bowed, he wiped a few tears then hurriedly collected his toys and went back inside. Hmmm.

On to Plan B

revellowatch@hotmail.com — Thu, 16 Jan 2003 20:43:23 GMT

First attempt to infiltrate the Summers home failed miserably. I spent the afternoon preparing my hearty beef stew (which is almost as famous as my rum cake), poured it into several disposable plastic containers (as I somehow doubt I would ever get a Tupperware dish returned to me) and headed across the lawn. I could hear crashes and thuds coming from the basement area (perhaps they are converting it to bedrooms?). It took several minutes of ringing the bell for anyone to answer. My arms were getting tired and I was contemplating how I would re-organize my freezer to accommodate 6 containers of stew, when finally Buffy opened the door. I put on my best smile and began to explain about the stew and wanting to be a good neighbor to them, etc. She stood there, slack-jawed and speechless. You’d swear no one ever knocked on their door before. After an awkward silence, I held out the containers for her to take and waited (smile firmly in place) for some acknowledgement or expression of gratitude. Finally she managed a “thank you” but the look on her face was still that of absolute bewilderment. I graciously said “you’re welcome” and walked away. It was obvious I was not being invited in. Must formulate a “Plan B” and continue to work on the cunning thing.

Toolbelts

revellowatch@hotmail.com — Thu, 16 Jan 2003 18:39:21 GMT

Cunning plan has been postponed due to fixation on toolbelts.

I took Mr. Johansen to Home Depot last night. At first, the concept of ME inviting HIM to go there was more than he could handle. That, however, was not enough to make him compliant when I led us down the toolbelt isle. No matter what I said, he refused to even try one on! I told him that his wearing a toolbelt didnt mean that he had to actually become handy around the house, that merely pretending sometimes would suffice. (in hindsight, perhaps I should have chosen another tact) He simply shook his head and walked away.

Found a show called "Men in Toolbelts" on television, but, sadly, it didnt have the same effect. Perhaps if the men weren't gay?