51 – Momentous Press Conference

RUBBERY SHRUBBERY Post 51

This is the Rubbery Shrubbery blog, where you’ll learn how Yachats (YAH-hots), Oregon, acquires a Major League Baseball franchise. To learn more about Yachats (“Baseball Capital of the World”) and its inhabitants—called Yachatians (yah-HAY-shuns)— please go to this page or go to GoYachats.

Today we will attend a momentous press conference as you can see by the title of this post. Have a seat and fasten your seatbelts as Harrison Grutch gives you a strict accounting.

Momentous Press Conference
by Harrison Grutch

Waiting for the news announcement this morning, the meeting room was packed with reporters, Smelt boosters, and other likewise Yachatians. All on pins and needles. Tension as thick as the air in downtown Duck Egg.

At last, a tall woman emanating leadership strode to the podium. She featured straight black hair, straight shoulders, purposeful gold eyes, and a nose. “Good morning,” she began. “I’m Honoria Glossop, Smelt General Manager Dzunukwa’s trusted assistant. I’ve been asked to make a couple of announcements.”

Everyone twitched with anticipation. Wumpy, being Wumpy, leaned back too far in his chair and fell over.

Ms. Glossop continued. “First I have some bad news for you. Seattle has thought of many possible applications for the Safeco Field roof—covering city parks when it rains, covering Pike Place Market when it rains, covering Seattle Center when it rains. All that demand can keep it in continuous usage.”

Everyone squirmed at this revelation. Wumpy, back up in his chair, was drifting off.

Ms. Glossop again. “So, we were informed today that Seattle intends to keep its roof.” She looked appropriately glum, and her audience reflected it right back at her. Wumpy snored.

“But now for the very bad news,” said Ms. G. “Major League Baseball called this morning and told us, ‘There’s no way you guys are going to get a big league team. You’re so tiny, we couldn’t even find you on our map (your dot must be the size of the Higgs particle), and how are we going to make money off you thusly? So, just forget it, okay?’”

Boy, did that put a damper on the get-together. The worst funk I’ve seen since the whale was blown up down the coast in Florence. Dead indigo silence. Stunned to realize all their sweat was down the drain. Their great dream turned inside out.

Until one voice piped up with enthusiasm. “Hey, that’s not the end of the world. We still have the Yachatian World’s Fair. Now we can put all our effort where it should’ve been in the first place.” It was Crazy Bop McSkittle, multi-directional white hair flying, glasses clinging to the cusp of his red nose, and about to spiel about building that dadburn World’s Fair, again.

“If we pull together, show some real teamwork, we can do this. Looky here! I have some photos of great World’s Fairs. This is the Crystal Palace in London in 1851 (see Fig. 1). The British are still talking about it! And here’s a photo of the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair (see Fig. 2). It was the fair that changed the world. And the next snapshot is New York’s 1964 World’s…”

Figure 1. Interior of the Crystal Palace, London, in 1851.

Right here Brassica Chin chimed in, “You know, Crazy Bop has a point. We’ve wanted a Yachats team, but we’ve had one all along. It’s US! So we work together to get a World’s Fair instead of a big league ball team. So what? It’s the working together that matters.”

Figure 2. Exhibition Hall at the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair.

And with that, light bulbs went on all over the room. The place was abuzz and abubble. “We can do this!” Annabella Kowalski shouted out. Boswell Carfinch added, “We’ll have the best World’s Fair ever!” And tears streamed down the cheeks of lovely Angelita MacAvity.

Wumpy suggested that Rubbery Shrubbery Stadium could become Rubbery Shrubbery Exposition Center featuring the Rubbery Shrubbery Exhibition Hall built out of LEGO® blocks. “It’ll be magnificent surrounded by millions of Plastiposies®,” said Yabby Weezer. Even now, Bebe Broadbent was planning the new airport on Clarity Mountain.

Thus we learned that we already had what we sought. We wanted team spirit, the camaraderie that makes the soul sing. Whatever our goal, we will always have that.

Suddenly, Dzunukwa appeared with the doorframe. Let me tell you, a ten-foot-tall Sasquatch witch draped in wall and jamb and all hairy and smelly is a terrifying sight. A hundred partial sentences hung in midair. Light bulbs flickered. The crowd froze. A dark scarl stormed Dzunukwa’s linteled brow.

“May I have your attention, please?” she cooed. “We seem to have a bit of a mix-up. My assistant, Honoria Glossop, is an apparition I’ve created to stand in for me at indoor events (I’m hard on buildings, as you can see.) Sometimes she gets a little confused, though. You know how it is with figments.” She glanced daggers at Crazy Bop. “My assistant might have been misled by someone.”

Honoria was standing in a corner still trying to look sympathetic. Dzunukwa waved her enormous hand in the illusion’s direction, mumbled some mumble jumble, and Crazy Bop disappeared.

Dzunukwa continued. “I was hoping she would tell you this—Seattle called this morning and said (I quote), ‘Sure, you can have our roof. We’ve contracted with Exxon to change our climate so it will be much drier and warmer in Seattle. Something like Phoenix, except without the haboobs (see Fig. 3). Therefore, we won’t be needing the roof. Call us when you’re ready to come up and get it, and we’ll help you take it down and pack it up.’ Really nice guys.”

Figure 3. Haboob near Phoenix, Arizona.

Dzunukwa waited patiently for the twittering hubbub to die down. “Then we got a call from Major League Baseball saying they’d heard we will get the Seattle roof. ‘That changes things,’ they said. ‘Changed our minds, for one thing. We’ve decided we can probably squeeze the Smelt and their second-hand roof in somewhere. Probably in the American League.’” Dzunukwa smiled and winked (I think).

Then whooping and hollering rose up from the crowd like I’ve never heard before. Tambourines clinked and beer mugs clanked. Somewhere there must have been fireworks.

“I knew we could do it!” Annabella Kowalski shouted out. Boswell Carfinch added, “Who wants a World’s Fair when they can have a big league baseball team!”

And tears streamed down the cheeks of lovely Angelita MacAvity, again.

Next time: The Smelt staff will now be busy preparing for entry into the big leagues and will have little time for blogging. Each Monday, however, the Rubbery Shrubbery blog will have brief news reports on the progress of the Smelt organization. Also, we will have a guest blogger from time to time. We hope you’ll continue to join us.

Be sure to check out the “Yachats Smelt” page on Facebook, and “Like” us if you’re so inclined. Thank you.