Somewhere, and I think it is in Oakland, there is a videotape of the Heffinator doing the Moonwalk.
Yes, you read it here. It is probably lying in the bottom of a box of dusty old tapes (who has a VCR any more anyway?), but it is there, of that I am sure.
This story really belongs in the off-season, for it is the back story of How I Became a Conehead, but it is playoff time, and I thought we might need an inspirational tale to go forward.
You see, when my daughter was in the first grade, we attended her school's Talent Show in the spring. The show was one of the events sponsored and organized by the Dads' Club. That group put on fundraisers for the school, had work days, a pumpkin patch, etc., to benefit the school and get a few extras for the kids. The culmination of the year was the Talent Show, when the six year olds sang off key, and all the sixth grade groups performed the same latest hip hop dance. But the highlight and the last act was the Dads' Club Mystery Act, and it usually involved some kind of cross dressing.
There was a Dad at the time, and I will call him Peter because his name is Peter, who was a professional dancer, and had his own studio. So that year the curtain rose and there before your eyes were a bunch of getting to middle aged men dressed in tutus, and milling around to the sounds of Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake. I say milling around because I wouldn't exactly call it dancing, but there were a few plies and jetes thrown around.
My daughter, who just as the rest of the crowd is loving it, turns to me and says, "Daddy, who are those men?" And I says, "That's the Dad's Club." She looks a little confused, because after all, I am her Dad and here I am sitting next to her. "Why aren't you in the Dad's Club?" And then she comes up with, "I want you to be up there."
Now I am not the joiner type, but anything for the kids, right? So the next year I joined the Dad's Club. We had a softball team, not very good, but we had a good time playing grudge matches against the neighboring schools (and at least usually beat them), and even joined the Oakland league for a couple of seasons. This is where I met the Don, and the Lingster, and Jim Cassani, Coneheads Emeritus all, and eventually it led to me being a Conehead (I even met Mugsy then - he filled in a few times for the Dads).
Two years later, we were out of ideas for an act, and it was nine days before the show. Peter showed up at our meeting with a tape of the movie Mel Brooks' Robin Hood - Men in Tights. The title song and dance had not only plies and jetes, it had actual choreography, back flips, the Can Can, all very tough to practice and nail down in nine days. It was going to be a disaster.
But a funny thing happened (well maybe not so funny) - the Oakland teachers went on strike. We could not hold the Talent Show during the strike, obviously, so we practiced. And practiced. And practiced. For six or seven weeks, twice a week, we showed up at Peter's studio and did our plies, and jetes and glissades, and practiced the act. By the time the strike ended, we were so tight, we could have gone to Carnegie Hall with this act.
And that is the story of how wearing tights led to me becoming a Conehead.
By now you are saying, what the hell does this have to do with the Coneheads, or softball, or playoffs???
Because the way we have performed the last three weeks, we are doing the Moonwalk right into the playoffs...Think about it - you actually are moving forward, but it appears you are striding backward.
And so we backed into the playoffs. I hold your coaches responsible - Joe goes out of town, and we lose. I get sick, and miss my first Conehead game since 2008, and we tie. Clearly you guys need our special guidance. Stink Eye or not.
We wouldn't talk about the last game, except it's the one that this post is nominally noting. We fell flat. Pat's Pats flat, losing 7-6. The only things of note were Randy going 3-3, and a couple of web gems - Chuck making a lunging grab behind third on a little popup to no man's land, and Pope with a circus catch in shallow left.
But never mind. We are now channeling the Giants, and their Mantra the last few years - just get into the post-season and see what happens. We have shown now for eight straight seasons what we can do - now starting Monday it counts. Time to shine!
Yes, you read it here. It is probably lying in the bottom of a box of dusty old tapes (who has a VCR any more anyway?), but it is there, of that I am sure.
This story really belongs in the off-season, for it is the back story of How I Became a Conehead, but it is playoff time, and I thought we might need an inspirational tale to go forward.
You see, when my daughter was in the first grade, we attended her school's Talent Show in the spring. The show was one of the events sponsored and organized by the Dads' Club. That group put on fundraisers for the school, had work days, a pumpkin patch, etc., to benefit the school and get a few extras for the kids. The culmination of the year was the Talent Show, when the six year olds sang off key, and all the sixth grade groups performed the same latest hip hop dance. But the highlight and the last act was the Dads' Club Mystery Act, and it usually involved some kind of cross dressing.
There was a Dad at the time, and I will call him Peter because his name is Peter, who was a professional dancer, and had his own studio. So that year the curtain rose and there before your eyes were a bunch of getting to middle aged men dressed in tutus, and milling around to the sounds of Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake. I say milling around because I wouldn't exactly call it dancing, but there were a few plies and jetes thrown around.
My daughter, who just as the rest of the crowd is loving it, turns to me and says, "Daddy, who are those men?" And I says, "That's the Dad's Club." She looks a little confused, because after all, I am her Dad and here I am sitting next to her. "Why aren't you in the Dad's Club?" And then she comes up with, "I want you to be up there."
Now I am not the joiner type, but anything for the kids, right? So the next year I joined the Dad's Club. We had a softball team, not very good, but we had a good time playing grudge matches against the neighboring schools (and at least usually beat them), and even joined the Oakland league for a couple of seasons. This is where I met the Don, and the Lingster, and Jim Cassani, Coneheads Emeritus all, and eventually it led to me being a Conehead (I even met Mugsy then - he filled in a few times for the Dads).
Two years later, we were out of ideas for an act, and it was nine days before the show. Peter showed up at our meeting with a tape of the movie Mel Brooks' Robin Hood - Men in Tights. The title song and dance had not only plies and jetes, it had actual choreography, back flips, the Can Can, all very tough to practice and nail down in nine days. It was going to be a disaster.
But a funny thing happened (well maybe not so funny) - the Oakland teachers went on strike. We could not hold the Talent Show during the strike, obviously, so we practiced. And practiced. And practiced. For six or seven weeks, twice a week, we showed up at Peter's studio and did our plies, and jetes and glissades, and practiced the act. By the time the strike ended, we were so tight, we could have gone to Carnegie Hall with this act.
We couldn't pull off the back flip part, and here is where the Moonwalk came in - just a bit of extra choreography from Peter. There were four of us that had actual parts - Ahchoo, Little John, Blinkin (he was blind), and I was Will Scarlet O'Hara. The four of us performed the Moonwalk in about the middle of the dance. I wasn't very good, but for one night, I was a star, and somewhere, for all eternity (or at least a couple of decades), it is saved on magnetic media. Somewhere in Gary Barker's basement.
And that is the story of how wearing tights led to me becoming a Conehead.
By now you are saying, what the hell does this have to do with the Coneheads, or softball, or playoffs???
Because the way we have performed the last three weeks, we are doing the Moonwalk right into the playoffs...Think about it - you actually are moving forward, but it appears you are striding backward.
And so we backed into the playoffs. I hold your coaches responsible - Joe goes out of town, and we lose. I get sick, and miss my first Conehead game since 2008, and we tie. Clearly you guys need our special guidance. Stink Eye or not.
We wouldn't talk about the last game, except it's the one that this post is nominally noting. We fell flat. Pat's Pats flat, losing 7-6. The only things of note were Randy going 3-3, and a couple of web gems - Chuck making a lunging grab behind third on a little popup to no man's land, and Pope with a circus catch in shallow left.
But never mind. We are now channeling the Giants, and their Mantra the last few years - just get into the post-season and see what happens. We have shown now for eight straight seasons what we can do - now starting Monday it counts. Time to shine!
