SIUSLAW NEWS ❚ SATURDAY, APRIL 15, 2017
7 A
Easter Bunny is still getting help from dads in boxer shorts
Ned
Hickson
Soon, in the wee hours of
the morning, something magi-
cal will happen in back yards
all across America as, one by
one, each of them is visited
by...
You guessed it!
A half-naked father hiding
Easter eggs.
That’s right, the same
fathers who were stomping on
the roof with sleigh bells
Christmas Eve will be out in
the yard in their boxer shorts
with an arm load of colorful
eggs not long after sunrise.
Their mission? Keep this
tradition alive while, at the
same time, trying not to step
in anything that could elicit a
response deemed inappropri-
ate for Easter morning.
This generally follows a
week of preparation, most of
which is spent looking for the
latest advancements in egg-
dying technology. My parents
didn’t have to worry about
this. When I was a kid there
was only one kit available for
making Easter eggs. This kit
included four colored pills
that could be combined to
make additional colors or, as I
preferred, swallowed whole
and used to freak out kids in
the rest room at school.
The green pill was particu-
larly effective.
The red pill I tried only
once because it gave me
nightmares.
As I was growing up, there
were a number of advance-
ments in egg-dying technolo-
gy. For example, the highly
touted “wand” made out of
thin copper, which could be
used for dipping eggs without
making a mess. I know this
because the back of the box
showed a cartoon family
making lots of eggs under the
watchful eye of the Easter
Bunny who was saying, and I
quote: Look! No Mess!
There were a couple of
things that bothered me about
this. First, it always looked
like the family in the picture
was being forced into color-
ing eggs by a brooding, six-
foot-tall rabbit blocking the
only exit from the kitchen.
Sure, everyone was smil-
ing, but who’s to say they
weren’t just buying time until
help arrived? Mysteriously,
this family appeared on the
back of the box for several
years, and then — poof.
Gone.
I was also bothered by the
fact that, despite what I’m
sure must have been a rigor-
ous testing and design
process, the “wand” usually
collapsed on itself and
dropped the egg directly into
the dye the first time you
used it.
After becoming a parent, I
took it upon myself to find
out who was responsible for
this tradition. As it turns out,
Germans introduced it to the
Pennsylvania Dutch in the
1700s when, in an eager
attempt to share their home
land’s annual spring celebra-
tion, hundreds of German
children began running
around yelling: OSCHTER
HAWS! OSCHTER HAWS!
Not knowing it was a call
for the Easter Bunny, the
Dutch children fled, taking
their breakfast of boiled eggs
with them and inspiring the
first Easter egg hunt in the
New World.
Eventually, the Easter
Bunny tradition was
embraced by the Dutch, who
— like the German parents —
realized it could be used as
leverage against their chil-
dren.
Three hundred years later,
little has changed. Good girls
and boys still get a visit from
the Easter Bunny, and fathers
still stumble outside at first
light to hide colored eggs.
That said, I’ll take this
opportunity to apologize once
again to my neighbors in
advance of Easter, just in case
I step in anything left behind
by something other than the
Easter Bunny.
Ned is a syndicated colum-
nist with News Media
Corporation. Write to him at
nedhickson@ icloud.com
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Glittering with jewels and
adorned in a silky crimson
gown and matching high heels,
the lady in red spread her mag-
nanimous arms to welcome her
fans. Her fingers fluttered in
long white gloves, and her soft
yellow hair caressed her bare
shoulders. .
Clearly, Fanny was enjoying
being a girl. Then she broke into
song, a bright swing tune from
1944 by Jay Livingston and Ray
Evans that set the theme for the
evening. Whether sung by Betty
Hutton or Bette Midler, the-
lyrics begin plaintively.
Some of her stories were
graphic and without redeeming
social importance, but those
blue moons turned to gold
whenever she broke into song,
defiant hymns of liberty like
“I’m Thru With Love,” written
in 1931 by Fud Livingston,
‘C LASS A CT ’
Matty Malneck and Gus Kahn,
and bejeweled anthems like
“Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best
Friend,” written in 1949 by Jule
Styne and Leo Robin.
Beneath the glittering fun
was the yearning to be loved,
illustrated by the heartbreaking
ballad, “Being Alive,” written
in 1970 by Stephen Sondheim
for Company.
All the songs, bright, witty,
and poignant, came from the
magical pipes of Fanny’s alter
ego, Jason Wood, Florence’s
beloved actor, singer and vocal
coach.
During the show, Fanny’s
colleague Ana Khonda made
her Florence debut, slithering
on stage with a shiny black bob,
a slinky black dress, and a bag
of naughty tricks she shared
with attending fans. Ana and
Fanny did a duet to demonstrate
how to lip sync, with Fanny
singing behind Ana and flutter-
ing her arms while Ana moved
her lips.
If you forget the lyrics, Fanny
said, just sing watermelon, can-
taloupe, and bunches of grapes,
a tip she learned from her vocal
coach.
After a frenetic encore, the
flying carpet returned to carry
Fanny Rugburn away. Even
girls having fun need their
beauty sleep.
But she’ll be back to break
glass ceilings because there’s
nothing like a dame, and Fanny
is Florence’s royal dame, not
unlike Dames Judi Dench, Julie
Andrews, and Helen Mirren,
not to mention Dame Edna
Everage.
Editor’s note: All of Fanny
Rugburn’s performances are for
mature audiences.