Tuesday, May 26, 2009
The Return of the King
No! Not that one!
Sadly, not that one. He is still missed.
And certainly not that one. Ick!
We're talking about this one!
Rex, olim futurusque!
It was foretold long ago in The Book of Oblivion that the great king, Cap'n Franko, would return one day when his people needed him most. At the end of the Hippie Age when the last battle had been fought and (Phyrrically) won, the great king put aside the trappings of war and rulership and disappeared into (The Book of) Oblivion, leaving his beloved subjects to find their own way in the world.
Time passed and the people forgot. They slipped into the dread terrors of the Disco Age, the putrescent Big Eighties, the diaspora of the Lost Nineties, and there seemed to be no hope. The music world of the Third Millennium had become a howling wasteland of demons from the lowest pits of Music Hell: Britney Spears, the Jonas Brothers, *country* rock! O ye transcendent gods!
Rock Ragnarok was surely upon us.
Some anticipated the return of the great king. Some said he was merely mortal and had died long ago and could never return; it was just silly superstition. Meanwhile, quietly, outside the ken of men, the forces of darkness conspired, and wrought foul magicks in dismal sites too outre to describe, to prevent that very event. But their evil was not puissant enough to stop a power so elemental.
At the moment of no hope, he came. From the mists of time, from the lost world of rockin' rhythm 'n' blues, he returned to ours in our hour of need, drawn by the energy of the gathering of powers at the LIFEisGood celebration of existence.
Much time had passed and the great king had changed and aged. He had long ago put aside his warrior guise and accoutrements. (Dontcha love the hat?) This was not the old king (rex olim) of arma virumque. This was a different being, rex futurusque. He returned to us in glory and power, carrying the formidable Green Sceptre of Shaken Beads, given to his queen, the inestimable KreweQueen Ronnie, by her ancestress, the QueenMother, Mary of Priest Point Beach Club, an entity feared even unto the gates of Hell itself, and loaned to Cap'n Franko by his beloved KreweQueen for this parlous quest. He also wore the storied Shirt of Extreme Luminescence, a wild magick of the olden times. [Both items pictured above being used against some obviously fearsome demons by the returned great king.]
The great king returned not alone to his people, for he was wise beyond his years. Well, maybe appropriately wise for his desperately advanced years. Nonetheless, he came to succor his people and engaged his hardy krewe to assist.
There was the indomitable KreweQueen herself. Regal, aloof, and yet warm and fuzzy, prepared to pound the Percussion Device of Rhythmic Sound, capable of shaking even the streets of Hell itself.
The young princesses, too, joined the quest, standing beside the king and queen, prepared to fight the good fight against the demons of crappy, mediocre pseudo-rock. Princess MJ carried into battle the mighty Acoustic-Electric Guitar of Exquisite Sound whose public name is Gretsch G3700 and whose secret name is Isolde, a name never to be revealed to the forces of mediocre music lest she lose some of her power, the name alone powerful enough to vaporize lesser demons instantly. Princess Chloe bore upon her person the incredible vitality of Cornelius, the GSR200FM, he of the double-digit hurts, errrr, I mean, Hz, Thumper of Torsos. O fabled wonder! Mirabile auditu! Even the Greater Demons quake at the sight of him and cower when they see the Princess preparing to pluck his power.
Together they became more powerful than the sum of their individualities, functioning as the Motley Penguins!
A truly wise king wants to be ensured of victory. Therefore, the great king enrolled not only the Royal Family in his quest but sundrie kindes of goodly comrades. Childe Jeff of the house of Sabo, he of the shining pate, baron of bass. Childe Russ of the house of Anguish, of the fierce mien and wicked axe delivering anguish to all, near and far. Together they formed the magnificent Senectobarbi, or as they are called in the vulgate, The Greybeards.
The KreweQueen, too, added allies, in the persons of two demigoddesses: Shonna of the Well-Used Running Shoes, goddess of power, speed, and getting up early. Rockin' Robin the Hula-licious, goddess of erotic dance and spiffy costumes. Together with the KreweQueen, their powers manifested as The Hot Backup Chicks!
A fearsome fray, lasting long into the lugubrious lunar light, led us to victory over Rock Ragnarok. The disastrous demons of mediocre music were violently vanquished in a triumphant tableau of sweaty senectobarbi... and lucious ladies.
But fear not, loyal subjects! Your king will not desert you precipitously. There are adumbrations of good vibrations gathering in the land of zephyrs and that bodes well for the future. However, there are the possible peregrinations of the vile Santa Ana demons appearing there to sow burning depression upon the land. Therefore, I, your bountiful king (and handsome, too!), will remain on this plane of existence with my trusty krewe, both the Motley Penguins and The Greybeards. If needed, we are prepared to appear at this gathering to once again bring rockin' rhythm 'n' blues to the righteous and vanquish the maudlin monsters of mediocre music.
Ite! Missa est.
[N.B. All photos from the "new king" on down are from LIFEisGood2009, courtesy of Linda Peden. Thank you, Linda!]