In the Beginning...

King Charlemagne. It should be remembered that his childhood was very tragic, yet there was always a shining star in his youth...his amazing talent for cliff-diving and playing spoons. This hope got him through his formative years. The only detail I cannot recall at the moment is where he was born...was it stateside or over the Atlantic, do you remember?

The loss of his mother, Olga van Heusen, at the tender age of four made a strong impression on him. His first essay on the ability of fathers to make grilled cheese sandwiches gives us a clear idea about his feelings of men and those men that were in his life. Olga, having slipped on a wet patch in the family sailboat, (the fact she was wearing a bicycle helmet seems irrelavent at this point) was unconcious for days before her inevitable death...

(e.s.)

Cloaked Tattered Rags

Yes, in fact, his childhood was nothing short of disastrous. Entering kindergarten without Olga to hold his hand was difficult. But entering kindergarten with his father holding his hand was worse. His father - or "Papa Charlemagne" - had a peasant poor upbringing, and naturally he wanted nothing but the best for his son.

It is safe to say he tried too hard. On little Charlemagne's wool jackets, he would often craft buttons out of bottle caps (hoping people would believe them to be gold!), and many times poor little Charlemagne was the guinea pig of such fashion statements. His tattered shoes were "gold leafed" with tin foil. Oh yes, they had tin foil back then. One day, when Charlemagne was barely 11 years old, he could take it no longer.

He decided to jump ship and leave Austria behind. And from that day forward, he was anything but ordinary. From country to country, adventure to adventure, he led a life of twists and turns like no other, eventually becoming King Charlemange. But...I'm getting ahead of myself.

(j.b.)

Nomadic Quests of Spoons and Sailors

Too right -- Charlemagne's father never quite understood that the poor boy only wanted to dress like the other boys. When he struck out to find his own destiny, his only tradeable skill was that of playing spoons. In the Austrian countryside he would sleep during the day and perform at night. He would entertain gypsy clans the whole night through -- being fed meals from the spit -- roast duck, pigs and geese, anything that the gypsies had stolen from neighboring farms.

The clans would leave Charlemagne resting peacefully under tall trees or leafy branches as they headed out for their nomadic quests. The clans never quite understood this small, feeble boy -- but his spoons spoke an international language of song and dance. This fact alone fed him while he grew from boyhood to adolescence. As he got older, his old clothing became shreds of cloth-- hanging on his gangly limbs.

Close to the point of indency, Charlemagne stumbled upon a humble, aged tailor. In return for new pants and a shirt the old tailor sent Charlemagne out to the forest in search of...

(e.s.)

Hansel and Gretel

... a candy cottage in the woods. Though the mission wasn't very clear, the tailor told young Charlemagne that he would find more information along the path. As the tailor unrolled the parchment map, a small charm dropped to the ground. The tailor snatched it up and strung it around Charlemagne's neck-- "This will bring you to your destiny."

Charlemagne started on his way towards the forest. It was nearing evening and getting darker as he got closer to the forest's edge. He lit his latern and put on the sweater that the tailor lent him for the journey. At first, Charlemagne didn't give too much thought to his mission, but soon enough he started to wonder.

It was a long road ahead of him, he wanted to cover as much ground as he could in the first few hours. As he thought about his task, he stumbled over...

(es)

A Little Stumble

Ah yes, as I was saying -

He took a little stumble...over a little gnome. An androgynous gnome by the name of Penelopeter. Charlemagne was certain he'd accidentally consumed some wild mushrooms in his breakfast of wild berries, for surely he was seeing things? As he rubbed his eyes and blinked in pensive thought, wee Penelopeter wasted no time introducing him/herself.

"Hello there, sir. I see you're wearing the Persimmon Charm. You are meant to travel all corners of this earth. I must attend to my neighbor's tea party in a moment, but before going, let me say this: Look not at the treasure map you carry. Instead, follow the morning dew, the afternoon breeze, and the evening stars, and you will soon find the Persimmon buried treasure."
Before Charlemagne could so much as say "hello," much less interpret the strange words of his new friend, the gnome was off with a dash.

And with that, our friend suddenly felt quite dizzy. What the hell was Penelopeter talking about?



(j.b.)

The Blustery Bicycle

As Charlemagne began to collect his thoughts, a gentle breeze stopped by and quickly picked up steam, becoming quite blustery. With little to rely on other than the words of tiny Penelopeter, he decided to follow the blowing breeze. Meandering along juniper berry plants and budding oak trees, he soon reached a lone, rusty bicycle of the banana-seat variety.

His aching feet were blistering, swollen and tired. Since the underbrush on the ground was not all that rough, he decided to give the bike a whirl. With a few rusty clicks of the chain and a rather meager chime of the bell, he was on his way. He threw his wine skin bota (a gift he had received from an Austrian artisan a few years earlier) in the bike's wicker basket and traveled onward...and upward. Yes, quite literally upward! This apparently was no ordinary bike. For he was soon pedaling high above the tallest of trees.

Once he got above the cumulous clouds (or was it cumulo nimbus? he was never good at cloudbusting), he must have gained quite a bit of speed. For he had only been riding in the sky for what seemed like ten to fifteen minutes, but when he gently landed in a not so gentle city, he saw a wooden sign reading, "Welcome to Prague, population: 3,400." Holy cow.

(j.b.)