The article from the paper on the left prompted me to take the green dragon (by Michael Whelen) on the right with me to the City Auditorium along with $5 to celebrate with hundreds of my Chinese brothers and sisters (to whom I didn’t know I was related.)
What?? You can’t read the small print on the article?? Did you click on it? Ha! I thought so. Did you double-click and see that it was the same size as in the newspaper? Oh, you clicked on it; it is huge and readable, but now you can’t get back to the post? Ha, Ha! (Use the back arrow…you’re in a browser). See what I mean about this being a more sophisticated blog?
Anyhow, my dragon – Guardian of the Raging Waters (or is it the Guardian of the Icy Castle?) and I sauntered into the City Aud. and were assaulted by ‘real’ dragons (O.K., silk dragons over the top of muscular Chinese teenagers) with a ‘musical’ accompaniment of near jet-engine decibels and 4′ diameter drums that threatened to stop your heart. I knew we were out-classed and in trouble.
We hid between the stiff Chinese wafers of the Jade Dragon Restaurant booth and the Universal Kempo Karate muscular dudes. I whipped out my iPhone and attempted to record the over-anxious dancers trying to feed the over-anxious dragons some glittery paper pieces from lantern-like IV props. (Not a worthy photo…)
The raucous, athletic performance came to an end, and I roamed the main floor looking for dragon displays…or at least someone I could talk to about selling my dragons. (Is there anyone reading this blog who doesn’t know about the 100 dragons I inherited from my cousin who was eaten by 100 cats?)
Alas, there were no dragon displays/booths. I had, once again, missed the perfect opportunity.
Soon, I was besieged by young and old wondering where I’d gotten my dragon. Youngsters brought their moms and asked them if they would buy one for them like mine. Octogenarians stopped to tell me of their dragon collections. This was a goldmine!
I started asking at each booth if they knew who was in charge, and finally I met her. She turned out to be Mali Hsu, and she was enchanted by my dragon. I was enchanted by the possibility of unloading 80+ dragons.
A year late and a lot more than a dollar short, I am joining the Chinese Cultural Institute and reserving a booth for next year’s Chinese New Year’s Celebration (The Year of the Snake…hmmmmm.)
Oh, how fabulous, Dad! You’ve finally found the folks who really will appreciate all those dragons. Bummer you have to wait a year to sell ’em!