A Legend is Hatched! I Go to the Country!
People say to spend time in nature. But they never say time doing what. Luckily, I am resourceful!
A madcap romp. A caviar dispatch. A nuisance in the lobby. Sophisticated boom-boom. A cult and occult favorite. Falbalas et Fanfreluches. In Technicolor. With special guest appearances by an illustrious cat. Read past editions here.
“Why don’t you go to the country?” I was recently asked, along with an inquiry about my current mental state, which I am told is even more neurotic and digressive than normal, even though all I was doing was complaining, for the millionth time, about the end of summer heat in the city and the lack of air-conditioning, and how even the horses, which have recently returned to their pied-a-terre in Central Park, aren’t asked to live in the city without it, which I think is a rather important point, both literally and metaphorically, that should be discussed at length, but other people seem to think is “annoying.” Well, you say “tomato;” I say “central air-conditioning.”
The end of summer is a strange time. After all, it’s when both world wars started. But I digress. Where was I? Ah yes! “Why don’t you go to the country?” I was asked.
“Which country?” I, naturally, replied.
After a few rounds of this, I had still not gotten an answer, but I had been told to just go anywhere within a two and a half hour drive of Manhattan. Well, this is America, after all! So, after stopping at Bergdorf’s to buy some large hats, off I went!
In addition to my many large hats, my luggage consisted of tweed, plaid, and herringbone, as those are the only patterns I travel with and work for all weather except heat and humidity. Naturally, I wore my pearls and sapphires, as one can never leave jewelry to chance. I still had little idea of which country I was going to, but with climate change, having any previous knowledge of conditions is already made moot.
I traveled by train. Trains are my favorite mode of travel because I enjoy solving mysteries.
Thus, I arrived in the country! Now it was time to go do country things!
For some people, I Love Lucy was a television show, but for me it was an instruction manual. When the Ricardos moved to a farm in Westport, Connecticut, I, too, wanted to move to a farm in Connecticut. The fact that this was not allowed threw me into a deep depression. However, this provided a list of expectations for country living like raising chickens, building a barbeque, and having Tallulah Bankhead rent the house next door. As you can see, I was very prepared emotionally and psychologically, if not physically or practically.
Upon arrival, my first observation was that there are many barns in the country. Yet, despite the abundance of barns, there was not a single musical number happening in any of them. Is that not how farms make money? By using their barns to stage musical fundraisers? I went to investigate.
And that is how I ran into some cows. The cows were named after the Gabor sisters. When I politely asked them to move, they refused, proving that they were well-named. Zsa Zsa was especially stubborn. I took this interaction with the local livestock to be a good sign, since it’s always nice to meet creatures with a similar disposition as one’s self. After giving Zsa Zsa, Eva, and Magda a wide berth, I continued towards the barn.
Here I ran into some locals. Conversing with locals is something one should do in the country. It makes one look “down to earth,” which is something no one has ever accused me of being, but, as they say, trying new things is its own punishment.
I approached the locals who, donning matching baseball hats featuring the Zabar’s logo, were busy photographing their organically grown flowers.
I asked them when there would be a musical number. They seemed confused. I proceeded to graciously offer to put myself in charge of directing, producing, and starring in a musical in their barn. What can I say; the country air filled me with the spirit of noblesse oblige!
They seemed less than obliging and asked if I had any qualifications.
I said I thought I had a great future in front of me on the Borscht Belt.
They said that didn’t seem likely.
That seemed a very unfair and ignoble comment to me.
Thus, concluded my conversing with locals.
(I seem to have omitted from my recollections that there was a sign reading “private property” and a slight dispute over interpretation. But how was I supposed to know that the sign reading “private property” meant that I wasn’t allowed on it? )
Next, I went to check out my accommodations. In the country, one stays in a country house. I know this because my favorite genre in all mediums is “rich people in big houses.”
Upon arriving at my accommodations (oddly small), I spent some time waiting for room service (despite not seeing a menu, I wrote my order on a piece of notebook paper and slipped it under my door). I’ve seen enough period dramas and screwball comedies (see previous comment about the genre of “rich people in big houses”) to know there is always room service in the country. But as room service seemed to be very delayed, I figured I would continue on with country activities. Tally-ho!
People say to spend time in nature. But they never say time doing what. Luckily, I am resourceful!
One of the things that is not widely known about me, because it is not true, is that I am an excellent horseback rider. One time, in Siberia, my Russian horse and I managed to completely leave the trail and go on our own excursion because one of us wanted to snack on some tall grass. But since there was no language barrier this time, my horse and I agreed that he would stay in the pasture and I would stay on a chaise lounge.
My favorite country animals are pigs and donkeys.
Next, I went looking for leopards as leopards often go missing in the country. In order to find a missing leopard you have to sing. This has the added benefit of also addressing the “lack of musicals” issue. As they say, two birds with one showstopper. The locals found this very odd behavior. But, what can I say: you’re either Criterion Collection material or you’re not.
If one sees a bear, just bang two sticks together.
In the country, people like to have vegetable gardens. My favorite vegetable is the potato, as it is also the vegetable that is most important to history. When I am stressed, as a means of relaxation, I like to list different types of potato preparations. As one is supposed to relax in the country, I thought I would go sit by the potato plants. I have recently learned that potatoes grow in the ground.
I considered all of this research. For years, I’ve been talking about doing a remake of Green Acres, which, as it turns out, is not an original idea. But, “dream awhile, scheme awhile…”
People go to the country for rest. Rest is a real challenge for me since I have such an active mind. I am very busy in my sleep, since I am very lethargic during the day. I suffer from the tyranny of leisure.
In the country it is very dark at night, which means I have to talk extra loudly in my sleep. Naturally, in my dreams, I hosted all of my personalities for a lengthy discussion about the ethics of In Cold Blood. It raised such questions as: what was that noise outside? Were the windows locked? How long would it take my doorman to come out here and double check the locks? I had no choice but to start listing different types of potatoes (mashed, roasted, fried, au gratin).
Eventually, it was morning. Room service had still not shown up.
I kept listing potatoes as I boarded my train back to the city.
People say the country is quiet, but I have not found that to be so.
Perhaps I am in the wrong country.
Tally-ho!
Victoria
Footnotes
Horseback riding has recently been brought back to Central Park, but only when it’s not too hot (or too cold) for the horses. On the rare days when the weather is temperate enough, I can see the horses from the windows of my new apartment.
One could say, the start of both world wars is a little murky, since it begs the questions of “started where?” But since we are talking about going to the country, Britain entered WWI on August 4th, 1914 and WW2 on September 3rd, 1939. As someone who has a late summer birthday, I think about this frequently.
During the last season of I Love Lucy, the Ricardos moved to Westport. During the third grade, I told my teacher I, too, had to move to Westport and since I was not allowed, I was, therefore, too depressed to attend school.
Magda Gabor is little known, Eva Gabor starred on Green Acres, and Zsa Zsa Gabor slapped a police officer.
I first heard “rich people in big houses” referred to as a genre by Lear deBessonet, which I thought was a great way to describe my taste in film and literature, and a genre I can absolutely excel in. I adore Lear, but this is, apparently, not quite how she meant it.
I have ridden a horse in Siberia.
I am very good on horseback. Probably.
In the classic film, Bringing Up Baby, most of the plot involves looking for a leopard in Connecticut. The leopard likes music, particularly the song “I Can’t Give You Anything but Love.”
Hitting two sticks together keeps away mountain lions. Not bears. This is a lesson learned from The Parent Trap.
Speaking of bears, in one of my television projects that would be great on HBO or Apple, there is an ongoing comedic bit about bears. Please inquire!
I am available to create a remake of Green Acres.
“Dream awhile, scheme awhile” are lyrics from “I Can’t Give You Anything but Love.”
I first heard the phrase tyranny of leisure in an interview with Elif Batuman. It really spoke to me.
In Cold Blood is a “non-fiction novel” by Truman Capote about a murder on a Kansas farm.
Listing potatoes is a great way to calm one’s nerves.
