Castor Fest 2006: Babies in the woods

Sept. 7, 2006

Dear Leslie,

Castor Fest has taken many forms in the four years since DC drove her pickup to the cabin on the Castor River to dump a load of lumber that became an outdoor stage that begged to be performed on.

One year the Castor Fest theme was "This time we rehearse." This year's was imprinted on souvenir tea towels: A baby dancing with catfish.

Ashley, born 3 months ago, flew in from San Diego to make her first appearance at the cabin. DC's parents' first great-grandchild spent most of the weekend getting passed around.

Non-human babies, seven golden retriever-blue heeler puppies brought by DC's sister Danel's clan, got lots of attention, too. The laundry basket they were in drew a crowd.

This year 15 people crowded into the cabin. It could have been more, but our niece Danica wouldn't let sister Devon bring a boyfriend from Florida. Castor Fest is for family, she insisted.

Indeed, the performances probably would only be endearing or funny to us, people who know and love each other's gifts and foibles better than anyone. That makes the show better than any slick entertainment.

The day before the performance was spent in rehearsals. Finally the spotlight bathed the stage and the audience settled into their lawn chairs.

DC's father had recorded himself at home on the organ playing "Sweet Georgia Brown" as Richard Strauss might have. While the music played, he waltzed the stage playing a stump fiddle, a Spike Jones contraption made of noisemakers.

With astonishing stage presence, DC's mother acted out a story about an imaginary flea. Ashley's mother, Monica, is a broadcast journalist in San Diego. Darci is a theater major. On that stage were the antecedents of some of their talents.

All grown up and marriageable now perhaps, Danica, Devon and Darci danced sultrily to "Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend." The San Diego clan customized family lyrics to "Camp Grenada." Danel's crew gave "The Piano Man" a similar treatment.

DC and I took off on Johnny Carson's Karnak bit, except our turbaned soothsayer was Alvie our beagle. Best joke came with the answer "Partly sunny with a good chance of a brief shower." Question: "What is the weather report for the puppy on the bottom of the pile."

DC's brother Paul's magic act stole this year's show. He is familially famous for wounding himself a few years ago with the ricochet from a bullet meant for a squirrel. As the "Sabre Dance" music made famous by so many plate spinners built the tension, Paul attached a squirrel made from toilet paper rolls to a big bottle rocket and sent it skyward. He sawed another cardboard squirrel in half. For the fever-pitch finale, he mounted more fake squirrels on a leaf blower and sent them flying across the stage while his father tried to land them with a landing net.

When Ashley is old enough to understand we'll tell her about the night of the squirrels. I don't know how old that will be.

Love, Sam

Sam Blackwell is managing editor of the Southeast Missourian.