Postcard from the Sea of Life - Dancing with the Sulu Nebouxi

FLIGHTS OF FANCY! Went dancing with Sulu last night.

Sulu took me to meet her flock, the Sulu Nebouxi, who are beautiful and fascinating! They seemed very interested in me too, but said I was a little skinny. (I wondered why they cared.) They invited me to a dance that was to take place on their sacred grounds that evening. I asked about the dress code. They chirped, "Pretty dress." But they did mention that in order to dance with them, I had to eat all afternoon because they wanted to fatten me up. They also mentioned that I should rub olive oil all over my body.

When I came back for the dance, they were all very colorfully dressed and quite jolly. I frankly don't know why they bothered with the costumes, as their natural plumage is gorgeous. They were also sporting fanciful headdresses and masks with human features painted on them. They could never fool anyone with those masks though, because they had to poke holes in the middle, from which their long yellow beaks protruded.

To tell the truth, I felt kind of underdressed in my little blue Ralph Lauren. The dance they taught me was sort of like a line dance, only done in a circle around a cauldron just about the size of me. It was raised up on a bonfire, with boiling water and herbs in it. I danced around it with them for a bit. One of them put a few sprigs of rosemary in my hair, saying it went great with my outfit. Another kept offering me garlic to hold under my tongue, saying it was an excellent breath freshener. I drew the line at the garlic. I have standards for my breath!

They asked several times if I had remembered to rub the olive oil on my body. I said they were so nice to share their beauty secrets with me and that I felt really glowing. Just when everything got going and feathers were flying, one of them chirped, "Wait a minute–Depingo–she too thin to dance." The music stopped abruptly. The Sulu Nebouxi told me to go back to our yacht, eat as much as I could all the next day, do the oil rub again and return the next night for a continuation of the dance.

This was just a little weird for my taste. I didn't feel like stuffing myself; the olive oil had just about ruined my dress, and I didn't feel like dancing with them anymore. So the next night I stayed on the ship.

As soon as it got dark, I heard chirping. It kept getting louder and louder. I peeked out the porthole and couldn't believe my eyes. The Sulu Nebouxi–the entire flock–were descending on my yacht. I did what I had to do. I opened the porthole, leaned out, and putting all pleasantries aside, bellowed,

"Get the flock out of here."

Paint on,

Depingo