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Wednesday, October 12, 2005

The First Day of the Rest of My Blog

Once upon a time, there was a wise king who ruled his kingdom justly. All of his subjects loved him, and every year on his birthday, the bakers from the towns near the castle would devote an entire day to baking his cake. The entire process was carefully monitored by the queen, who gave final approval to the cake's design and construction. She was also in charge of of choosing the type and placement of candles on the cake. Frequently, the court alchemist would build miniature but complex firework displays instead of ordinary wax candles. Of course, there was always one simple candle, for good luck.

The cake had so many layers that all of the ovens within a day's walk of the castle were used to make this spectacular feet of bakery. (I suppose that the townspeople went Atkin's that day. It was a small price to pay to honor their beloved leader.)

As the king's 50th birthday approached, the anticipation grew to a fever pitch. How would the queen top the previous year's cake? The cake was so big, not just one, but all of the king's 25 concubines jumped out of it to surprise him.

When the big day finally arrived, the scale of the cake remained a well-guarded secret. Strangely, none of the bakers' ovens were commandeered by the royal family. Rumors began to run rampant. The queen hadn't been seen for weeks. Some people suggested that the queen and king were fighting, or even on the verge of divorce. (This would not be a wise move for the queen, who witnessed the execution of the king's previous wife after she was caught copulating with one of the kingdom's most highly-decorated knights. The knight, curiously, wasn't punished; he was just sent into battle. He died several days after reaching the front, of syphilis.)

As was tradition, the celebration began with a vast parade of exotic animals. There were rhinoceropsis, llamadons and all manor of fantastic creatures, many of which were created especially for the event. Still, the queen and the cake were nowhere to be seen. The young children reveled in the carnival atmosphere, but many of the adults were too concerned with the future of the royal family to enjoy themselves. To make matters worse, the weather was unseasonably warm, and several people passed out from exhaustion (although it would perhaps be better called frustration).

After the parade, the king spoke to the assembled. "I can see many of you are concerned. Don't be. My wife has assured me that this year's cake will be the most memorable one yet. So, without further ado, THE CAKE!"

With that, a large banner behind the king opened to reveal a giant white box, 20 meters high and easily twice as wide. The only thing adorning the box was a handle which ran vertically along the left-hand side. A wave of cold air swept over the sweaty (and quite bothered) mob. Two of the king's servants pulled the door open, and everyone stared in anticipation into the box. For the first few seconds, all they could see was a cloud of air so cold that even the people who had fainted from the heat during the parade began to shiver. The queen stepped out of the cloud clad in fine and expensive furs. With an overly dramatic flourish, she said to her husband, "Let them eat ice cream cake!"

And it was good.

This blog, however, is not the story of the king and his kingdom. It is about a life much more ordinary. Although we will probably return to our friends the king and queen now and again. Perhaps they will even top his 50th birthday ice cream cake. Cupcakes, anyone?

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