This December has been an especially eventful month, what with the Christmas Holidays, the Special Event for Monroe, the Vancouver Concert, the assassination attempt on Adam's life by a Mexican drug Cartel, and --oh yes --and a kha-rat in the freezing snow. And now it is New Year's Eve. There is a moderately wild party going on over in the Mead Hall, but I am sitting here in our temporarily deserted house to enjoy a little peace and quiet, writing my personal contribution to our Document. December began with Adam and Doug spending a few days in far-off Aberdeen, dealing with lawyers and judges, Holtz Lumber's power play, Riverside Lumber's bitching, Nirvana fans and other complications, as already described by Doug. For us here back home, it was business as usual, split between promoting the band and dealing with our own NNP complications, running the language school and trying to help new incoming Nokhons find out if they want to adapt to a new life style in the American culture. I think that's all going pretty well, although I still believe we must be careful about corrupting innocent Nokhons with our potentially decadent lifestyles; specifically junk food, junk entertainment and junk religion. I'll try not to rant. But for example, with the Christmas Season upon us the increasing pressure by several churches and religious organizations to allow some of their missionaries into the Nokhon Camp has been relentless. Some of them want to teach the ignorant Bigfoot folk about the wonderful message of Jesus Christ having died for their sins and promising a place in Paradise. But others don't see any place in Heaven for monkey-men and half-human creatures, they only want to shame them for having the effrontery to EXIST in the Christian (White Man's) World. Neither message is acceptable to us-- the Nokhons have their own religion and it has served them for thousands of generations.
A few days after our guys got back from Aberdeen, Adam was attacked by those Mexican Drug Cartel assassins. Luckily he won out over them, but it could easily have gone the other way. But that tale too has been told, by Adam himself as eyewitness, so I don't need to go into detail, except to say that I am grateful my son is still alive. The next day, Saturday, a snowstorm hit us. It had been cold for weeks, patches of snow were scattered around here and there, but that day it got serious: traffic was stopped on the back roads, snowdrifts covered windows and doors, the world became white. The temperature fell well below freezing. Here inside Hacienda Forest, we were fine: big old log cabin, modern heating system plus a wonderfully traditional old fireplace, lots of food on stock, our insulated pipes didn't freeze. It would have been easy to just relax and stay at home. The only problem was that it was a Full Moon night. And of course we all know about that Nokhon tradition to hold a Kha-rat every full moon, no matter what. (Because there's no way to stop the shyøma!) I probably don't need to remind you that means getting naked and having group sex outside in nature. All of us humans involved with the Nokhon Nation Project have gone native to some degree, so we've been diligently participating in the kha-rats since last September. I've been to four Kha-rats now, counting this last one in December. You may recall my complaints about the October kha-rat, when it was too cold, windy and raining. November wasn't so bad, cool but dry. Well, December's was much colder and the snow was three feet deep. Of course you'd think that hairless humans couldn't survive being naked outside all night long in this kind of weather. The truth is that furry Nokhons don't like freezing either, so they huddle up to keep each other warm while they're at it: group cuddle & yøramma. It's actually pretty warm in the middle of the pile, and they do their best to keep us comfortable. But this time it was just plain too extreme. The truth is I almost always get scared and consider avoiding the oncoming kha-rat. My first time was a thrilling event, but repeating it every month? For one thing, I worry about becoming a pervert (and Doug says "Don't worry, be happy!"). And then I'm always afraid that it's going to be too brutal an experience to inflict upon my frail human body, although I've never yet been harmed in any way. And of course, once we get started it's quite exciting to be ravaged by a crowd of horny male friends, both squatch and human, but it's also very much like too much. This time I definitely wanted to cancel. But I'm hooked: not so much on the sex (I'm still telling myself), but the telepathic link when we all become One Mind, when the entire histories of the Nokhon and human Races are revealed... Also, every time I attend a kha-rat I find that I've become more fluent in Nokhontli, it's the telepathic bonding. And I get a better understanding of the Atli. It's like going to school, except that we get away with having sex with the whole class. Oh, and besides, once the Shyøma hits your nostrils, that's it: you're into it. Nobody is dragging their feet. But the weather that 6th of December evening was far colder than anything we'd ever tried to endure. We'd suggested moving the kha-rat into the nice warm Mead Hall before, but that's always been dismissed as sacrilege: the moon is part of the ceremony, they need to see it. But the guys in our think-tank (Adam and Art and Doug) brainstormed a solution. We moved into the Mead Hall after all, mattresses on the floor instead of snow, and opened the big double-doors, out through which we could see the big mirror (borrowed from the Camp) lined up with the moon (it had to be adjusted every few minutes). It was chilly with the doors open but we had the building's heating system turned on full blast. The Nokhons loved it-- although they have a much higher tolerance for cold than us, they don't mind being cozy-warm either. And when the moon went down anyway we closed the doors and continued the ceremony until dawn in actual comfort. I always end up glad that I endured it, so far, anyway.
The Squatch & Friends concert in Vancouver B.C. was also in December. The band had wanted to play there in the summer so that they could do a show at Vancouver's Wreck Beach, which is the largest nude beach in all of North America. What they really wanted was to perform nude themselves, but that idea was discouraged because of the respectable image they needed to present for the NNP. But this particular show was something completely different, had been arranged months before and for very good money: to play one special concert at the Orpheum Performing Arts Theater in the company of the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra. So there had been meetings to determine the program, a lot of people had already been involved and preparations made, several trips back and forth-- fortunately, Vancouver is only about 130 miles from Monroe. The show was to take place Saturday, 13 December. The kids had called to invite their friend Miguel de Santo (Mike) in Los Angeles in on the concert, but he was on tour with Chrome Pie at the moment and couldn't join them. So it was just the six of them: Adam and Pokey, Melly and Lissandra, Magga and Masnia. Although at least a hundred other people, musicians and technicians, would also be involved in the show. Maki, Art and I went along for the ride. We drove to Canada in the S&F band bus, and were surprised to find a rather huge crowd of Canadian fans waiting for us at the Blaine border, at least 50 cars, so we drove into Vancouver like a parade, honking and waving to everyone along the way. This was two days before the concert itself. The Orpheum is just off Granville, one of the main streets downtown, so we created a bit of a traffic jam, arriving at rush hour on a Thursday. But this was Canada, so there was no trouble, no violence, simply none of the negative things that always seem to happen in the big cities of the USA. There was parking for the bus beside the theater. Hotel rooms had been offered as part of the deal, but the band preferred living in the bus, since the three Nokhns were too big to be comfortable in hotel beds and the other kids wanted to be with them. But Art and I took up the offer of a hotel room to give the kids some space-- and to get some space ourselves. Besides, we knew what went on in that bus every night. The Orpheum is a beautiful concert hall, built in 1927 but looking brand new, all pink and golden colors. As an established cultural center it is rather elegant. The stage would have been rather empty for a group of only six musicians, even though three of them were Nokhons, but the 80-piece orchestra helped to fill it out pretty well. There were also TV cameras on cranes and dollies, truckloads of technical hardware, an army of roadies, this was a big production. It would later become a TV special. CD/Blue Ray albums, the works. Rehearsals began Friday morning, then again Saturday to work out any last details, the concert being that evening. Art and I had already heard enough rehearsals to last a lifetime, so we went touristing around downtown Vancouver. Robsen Street, Granville, Chinatown. It was snowing lightly so we did not go out to Wreck Beach, but we did spend most of the day outside. When we got tired of walking around we also enjoyed our hotel, The Fairmont on West Georgia Street. Pool and spa, elegant and ritzy, all for free, it was wonderful. The concert was also wonderful, quite different from any concert Adam and his band had done before. They did do several of their own songs-- I Like to Run, The One I Can't Forget and Take Me Seeking --but some of the concert had to be more classically oriented to take advantage of the musical power an entire orchestra can provide. Adam sang Ode to Joy from Beethoven's 9th Symphony (in German), the four girls in the band doing the parts that are normally performed by a large choir. It was carried by the power and depth of Adam's voice, definitely establishing that he could be an opera singer anytime he decided to. He proved that again later on by performing a solo version of Nessuno Dorma by Puccini (in Italian), which got a standing ovation. Songs from Broadway musicals, Anthem from Chess and Midnight from Cats, allowed Melly and Masnia to shine in duets with Adam. Then some pop classics: Roy Orbison's Pretty Woman, Michael Jackson's Billy Jean, Queen's Radio GaGa, Simon & Garfunkle's Bridge Over Troubled Water. The concert finished with one of Adam's favorite standard Spanish songs, Malagueña Salerosa, which has now become recorded at last. All in all, a vocal tour de force and an artistic success. The concert had begun at 8:00 Saturday evening and was over by 11:00. At that time we were informed that the Orpheum Theater was surrounded by a crowd of fans who had not been able to get tickets because it had been sold out (and were too expensive), but they were waiting outside just to catch a glimpse of the band. In the snow. So Adam and the kids took their instruments outside onto the street, intending to offer a quick little quarter-hour show, sans orchestra, just them unplugged doing their own S&F songs. But then some of the symphony musicians also came out and jammed with them and it became an hour's production. That too was a hit. By then it was midnight so the police had to come and send everyone home, but which they did ever so politely, being Canadian cops. Sunday morning we drove back to Monroe, our Canadian adventure ended. Although the kids are still talking about doing Wreck Beach in the summer.
Just to keep everyone extra busy, December also featured quarterly final examinations at the University of Washington. Adam and Melly actually had to show up on campus like any other student. They had special privileges with the Anthropology Department, but not with their more mundane History, Psyche and Literature courses; so they actually had to study, poor dears. Lissandra had exams too, but she was a year behind them and had a lighter load-- so she got to take double shifts at the NNP. Maki was also finishing her studies at WSU in Bellingham, before transferring to the UW in Seattle, so she too had her own academic duties. Pokey was the only one not taking exams, but was busy teaching English to Nokhons, also an academic endeavor. As the Resident Token Mom for these wonderful, successful, hard-working kids, let me say that I'm proud of all of them. Maybe I should stop calling them kids, since they're all legally adults now-- but I'm not ready for that yet; I love my kids.
Squatch & Friends had one more concert to perform the week after Vancouver, Friday the 19th of December. This time just the original four of them. But this was less formal than the big concerts, being a local event held by the City of Monroe in a barn on the State Fair grounds. It was the traditional Christmas Holiday show the town did every year to raise money for local poor families, to provide some food and cash to help pay rent-- practical contributions rather than plastic presents. Adam's band were hardly the only stars of the show, there were at least 10 different bands and loose affiliations, this was a jamboree: there were several church choirs and barber shop quartets, country & western bands, all local people --even old Smokey Chesterton had a band up rock & rolling again. Adam & the kids jammed with them for old time's sake, and with everybody else before the night was done. S&F played none of their own songs, most of the music being presented was traditional Christmas songs and carols so they did their share of well-known classics, just like everybody else, and had fun doing it. Monroe's Mayor, Stan Waller, was also playing in a C&W group, along with yet another Mayor, Jeb Shelton from Aberdeen. Jeb and his wife Victoria had been gracious hosts during Adam's stay in Aberdeen. She was very nice-- well, they both were-- but I especially liked her, we talked together a lot. The next day, Saturday, the Sheltons were still in Monroe, having stayed overnight with Stan and Vera Waller. Since they had expressed an interest in our operation helping Nokhons coming to our world, we invited them to the Hacienda and took them for a tour of the Bigfoot Camp and the teaching facilities. That was extended to a tour of the new Naked Lake project, although there was nobody sunbathing in the snow, not even squatches.
At first I was against doing an American-style Christmas: lights, tree, presents, cards, Santa Clause images. All the commercial junk of Christmas marketing was not something Nokhons needed. But everyone else; Adam, Melly, Liss, Art, Doug; considered it a cultural experience that the Nokhons could just as well see here, so that they had a chance of understanding what it was all about. "Besides, it's FUN!" Melly reminded me. So we put up strings of colored lights around the Hacienda, outside and inside. A living pine tree standing near the house was designated to be our Christmas tree, we did not cut one down. Nokhons consider trees a kind of person. So I went ahead and got into it, made cookies, hung candy canes everywhere, decorated with yuletide trimmings, propped old Christmas cards up on the mantle above the fireplace. Adam's old Christmas stocking (huge, of course), which he hadn't seen in years and got rather nostalgic about it. The Nokhons were fascinated. Some Nokhons who had wandered near civilization had seen such trappings before, without any idea of what they signified. But as far as most Nokhons were concerned it was new and magical: the colors and lights and decorations, some blinking and winking, transformed our staid everyday home into a virtual Disneyland. Christmas goodies were offered (mostly sugar-free) both at the house and out at the Camp; cinnamon twists, little cupcakes, glazed brownies, eggnog, hot apple cider. We had a very nice Christmas Eve, held in the Mead Hall so that twenty humans and all twelve Nokhons currently visiting could be in on it. It was a feast: four turkeys, lots of sweet potatoes, ten pumpkin pies. Brightly wrapped presents were distributed: every Nokhon got a Swiss Army knife and a new set of campesino clothes with pockets (to put the knife in). So as not to make any squatches jealous-- the concept of owning any object is new to them and they can sometimes be rather immature about it-- we gave ourselves the same thing. They enjoyed the evening. The next morning we held our own just-family version of Christmas in the Hacienda house: personal presents under the tree, put there by Santa late last night. Melly’s father was already with us, but Lissandra, Pokey and Maki all had parents who expected a visit. It was so nice to have our son home this year; last year we'd spent Christmas wondering if he was alive and had been so sad. This time was the opposite of that. A toasty blaze in the fireplace, hot spiced tea, Mozart on the stereo, Art and me in pajamas, Adam in campesino whites (a lot like pajamas), some thoughtful presents, some funny presents. A typical American family on Christmas Day. I felt happy. Blessed.
So of course the Nokhons began to ask what this Christmas thing was all about, and we had to tell them about religion. Although Doug insists that Christmas originally had nothing to do with the Christian religion, that was glued on later, and that this was actually the pagan winter solstice festival (Dec 21). That's probably true, but that isn't how our Judeo-Christian culture sees it. But what a mess: explaining what Santa Claus has to do with a cute baby Jesus born 2 millennium ago, to become a Son of God who gets cruelly sacrificed on a cross. So many contradictions and inconsistencies of logic, the horrors of Hell, the implausibility of Heaven? Concepts of guilt and sin that Nokhons just can't fathom: yøramma is bad? Skesk is good? Most Nohons are devout practitioners of Atli and have a problem with violating the teachings they've believed in all their lives. And why not? Theirs is a philosophy of protecting the here-and-now Paradise of our Planet Earth from harm by abuse and misuse, rather than a vague promise of ending up in some nebulous "Paradise" in the sky after death. "But we all need to leave the brainwashing of our youth behind," Doug told them, and suggested that we show them and translate a comedy routine by George Carlin on YouTube, "Bullshit", to show them how we too have to question the religions around us. We don't believe in-- no wait, I don't have the right to say what everyone around me believes, even though we've had many discussions and fireside philosophic sessions that lead me to believe that we all think along similar lines, I can still only fairly say what I believe. And even so, I was going to say that I don't believe in religion, but even that is not exactly true. I certainly believe in some unknown plan choreographing events that affect our lives. But a religion of dogma, with saints and saviors, no, I don't believe in that. Art put it perfectly once, saying, "Religion can be true until it becomes written and formalized, then it becomes static and the truth gets lost." Leonard Cohen, perhaps my #1 guru of song, wrote in his absurdist Jazz Police, "Jesus taken seriously by many, Jesus taken joyously by a few," and that defines so well how the message gets lost once a religion becomes established. Oh, we don't have those utterly cosmic philosophical jam sessions like we used to, when it was Art and me, Doug and Sally. Of course, we also used to get stoned a lot more back then, that might have had something to do with it. And there was all that love between us-- and yeah, ferocious tantric sex. We felt as if we were at the center of the universe. Doug was our Genius. Art was our Everyman. Sally was the (sex) Goddess. I was The Earth Mother. God, we loved each other. And totally without guilt, it was wonderful. Until Sally died, that is. I guess we lost our religion after that. So I know how these innocent Nokhons feel about leaving behind their lifelong faith in the Atli for... what? We don't have a new-bigger-better religion to offer them, and The Commercialized American Way sure ain't it.
Adam had been ready and waiting to go to Aket for weeks, but there was always something he had to do or someplace he had to be. He was about to go just after the Monroe Christmas Special, but then ol' Mom here asked him to spend Christmas Eve with us at home and he surrendered. But the next day he and Magga were off to Aket. They were planning on being gone a month, which is about the most he can get away with. Art and I will be administrating all S&F business until he gets back. Melly and Lissandra are going to Los Angeles to visit Mike, so they won't have to be missing Adam while he's gone, I suppose. Pokey and Maki will be running the language school-- he's just too dedicated to take any time off.
December just wouldn't be complete without New Year's Eve, now would it? As I mentioned there is a party going on over in the Mead Hall, but it's a little weird, since most of the kids are gone away and the Nokhons don't recognize the concept (how can you have a party with no yøramma?). But we actually do have some grown-up human friends, and a lot of them are here tonight. Dave the Hippy Mailman and his new Nokhon girl friend. Lissandra's parents Margaret and Ruth, our local lesbians. The Sinsleys (which would have been unimaginable the year before). Doug and Art are over there now, probably wondering if I'm going to show up before midnight. Hmmm, yeah, guess I will.
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