There I was, in a bar/pizza joint in Downieville, CA, at high noon....seconds from death by bar fight. It was during a bicycle tour Mr. Pansy and I were on. I don't recall where Mr. Pansy was, I don't recall why I was somehow in charge of the sag van, I don't recall why I was with the Tour Leader's (TL) 14 year old son. The town whistle had just blown, announcing it was NOON/feeding time. The lumberjacks had swarmed from their secret hidey-holes and were congregating in the beer/pizza joint. TL's son and I were hungry so pizza sounded great. It had been a hot, dusty 45 miles so far. TL's son, at 14, was one monster Baby Huey: several inches over 6 feet tall, several dozen pounds over 200 and HE was afraid to go into the beer/pizza place without me. Like I'm gonna be much help if things went weird. Oh, I forget! Even TL's son at his tender young age knew I am the Most Manned Up Woman Ever. And he knew with me things always go weird. I bet he was just going to point at me and blurt "She said it, not me!" and run for cover. Just like his daddy always does.
I was dressed in a skull patterned do-rag; my waist-length red hair was braided in 100 skinny braids all over my head (which I pulled through the vents of my bicycle helmet); I'm wearing 2" skullhead earrings with shiny red eyes; black fishnet bodysuit; feathered bra over the bodysuit; fake spider web tattoos affixed to body parts; leopard fur print miniskirt; black fishnet stockings; red leather scrunch boots. TL son and I walk into the bar. The place becomes very quiet with a few murmurs. Finally, Lumberjack Enormo-saurus steps forward and as spokesperson for the hairybacked hordes asked me:
Lumberjack Enormo-saurus: So, do they light up?
Sweet Pansy: Does what light up?
LE: The skull earrings. Do they light up?
SP: Heehee. No, they are just shiny.
LE: Why are you dressed like that for?
SP: Well, the bicyclists I am with...we are all on vacation and are riding our bicycles from Oregon back down toward Sacramento. I am wearing this silly outfit so that cars and trucks will hopefully see me and not crash into me.
LE: [real suspicious-like] What's with the feathers?
SP: Oh! I found these baby Spotted Owls on the side of the road this morning. I felt so sorry for them that I picked them up and I am nursing them back to health.
Scary, deathly-long silence falls over the bar, the town, the entire county. Tick, tick, tick....then Lumberjack Enormo-saurus begins to shudder, his face gets mottled, his eyes become all squinted up and he finally lets loose with a huge bellow of laughter. Ohmigawd! He liked my joke! They all really, really liked my joke! Hilarity ensues, pitchers of beer are purchased and quaffed, we all eat pizza. Lunch lasts ForEver with lots o' photo opportunities.
At that point in California history lumberjacks and Spotted Owls were a flashpoint topic over which the lumberjacks definitely were inclined to impose a painful death penalty on any suspected tree-huggers. For those of you who think one has to have been actually alive when historical events happen it is NOT true that Pansy is Horrifically Old since she knows LOTS of historical things. There is that thing called "common knowledge" which can be acquired if you pay attention in skool.
For the next 2 days it took us to ride completely out of that area, every logging truck that went by would honk and honk at me as I rode along. I think it's because I have new friends. Lord knows what THEY were thinking.
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