Good Morning, Good MORNING!

If I could pick one person to meet at right this moment (this answer would change depending on time, month, year, hormones, etc.) it would be Fred Astaire. Dude could dance, and I kind of wish I was living his life right now. Spend time on screen being a Grade A Badd-Ass, schmoozing with beautiful leading ladies, wearing spiffy tuxedos at all hours of the day ("Hmm, shall I go with the top hat and cane or the mandarin collar today?"), having the world marvel at your talents, having the ability to instill a desire for otherwise heterosexual men to put tap shoes on and dance through the streets singing a gay and jolly tune... What's not to love?

My appreciation for The Man comes from my newest addiction: I have been watching videos of old television shows and movies on YouTube. Things like "Whats My Line?" and "Martin and Lewis" and clips from "Singing in the Rain". Besides the humor of Jerry Lewis (whom I adore) being actually accessible to a modern audience (perhaps the humor is not received as intended, but just the nostolgia makes me burst into applause.... alone. Right. Maybe it's time to get a life/mental help), the feel-good feeling that these clips leave with me is unlike almost any other form of entertainment, save the theatre.

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This morning I woke up with a delicious hangover. Not your typical vein-popping, head-throbbing, temple-squeezing, room-spinning, puke-coughing hangover; but a rather mild, dare I say "pleasant", one. My mouth is dry (that's from the red wine), and there is only the slightest pressure on top of my head (that's kind of friggin odd. No explaining that one.) A nice reminder of last night, which was spent eating baguettes and camembert and drinking cheap French wine in the lovely company of Mr. HMS, Mr. Houlihan, and the lovely Ms. Kaye.

I always loved the parts in historical letters where the writer describes people they meet. This is an art form that has been lost mainly because digital photography, the internet, and speedy transportation. That's okay, as it is an antiquated practice... but it is fun to imagine them based on the writer's description. So, in the interest of historical mimicry, I hereby cast my pen with the lot. Without further adieu, I present to you a short description of my party guests in aristocratic, haughty, Queen's English!


Dearest Elenor,

It hath been nearly a fortnight since I heard from you last, and I dare say, my wollocks are in a tumble! Hath you grown fatigued of our tender romance? Doeth the governor approveth our union? Please, I beg you, make haste in your reply. I cannot wait a moment longer. I shan't not consume nor slumber until I am basking in the softening glow of your soothing words; the glow which shall embrace my lonely and weeping soul and nurse it to health anew!

I digress. Yesterday evening, I had the wonderful opportunity to host a small collection of acquaintances in my humble chambers. Mr. Chattingsworth was unable to attend due to a most unfortunate riding accident, and Ms. Kensington hath chartered a steam ship bound for America! To think! That land of beastly savages, skinning their victims alive and drinking the blood from their own children! Swoons! Let them have their independance, for they are certainly not welcome here in civilized England.

My apologies for the stain on this letter my love: I just had to swat a small Indian boy who brought me a cup of tea without milk! Cheeky fellow!

Those in attendance were the gregarious Mr. Houlihan, the dashing Mr. HMEasy, and the charming Ms. Kaye. It is a most dreadful shame that you hath not befriended these joyous people as of to-day. Mr. Houlihan is a fine young gentleman of medium build, with hair as black as the raven's feathers. His nature is pleasing to all those with the opportunity to be in his company, and is also an accomplished organist. Heavens! The young man commands the complete attention of those in attendance once seated upon his bench, like Xerxes upon his golden throne. And the music! Oh, Elenor! The Music! I wept openly! Apollo beware!
Mr. HMEasy is a fine, upstanding example of British eloquence. He is of solid build with a broad smile, naturally gregarious, and always impeccably dressed. It is my understanding that he would make a fine member of Parliament someday, as his demeanor is most fitting for that pursuit. He seems most passionate when discussing that noble trade. My vote is cast for the Tory Party candidate: Mr. HMS! Theseus himself must have blessed this gentleman.
And how may I describe the charming Ms. Kaye! Twould be a lesson in futility! Sisyphus alone may, perchance, understand. Perhaps the most appropriate description should be "enchanting". Casting a spell over those whom the young lady meets, they are immediately favorably disposed to her company. A modern Psyche!

Methinks that Ms. Kaye might actually be a witch. I shall request an auto-de-fe immediately.

Lovingly Your Humble and Obedient Servant,
Matthew