The legend continues, Part One

The Power of Myth by Joseph Campbell and Bill Moyers currently takes the top spot on the stack of books I’m reading. For those of you unfamiliar with Joseph Campbell, he was considered an expert on mythology and believed symbols of mythology and legend surround us, embedded in the fabric of our daily lives. He had an uncanny ability to recognize these connections and communicate their meaning. In his conversations with Bill Moyers, he expressed concern that the children of this generation no longer embrace  powerful mythologies and spirituality, resulting in “destructive and violent acts by young people who don’t know how to behave in a civilized society.”

I share Campbell’s concern for what I see as a real decline in civility and graciousness. I also believe that some myths and legends are born, others are made. One such legend was born on the last day of March, 2009 in a humble cheese and wine display at the back of a grocery store. I speak, of course, of your friend and mine, the Pornographic Cheese Butler:


Seemingly gracious wine and cheese steward from this angle, right? Not so fast!

Alas, as quickly as he was introduced to you all, we had to bid him a sad farewell. As Marni lamented in the comments section of Say it ain’t so, Kro! Say it ain’t so!,Oh pornographic cheese butler, we hardly knew ye, and now you’re gone.”And while saddened by the quick departure of our beloved PCB, I could not ascertain the whereabouts of our pantsless wooden friend. I suppose I should have suspected something sinister after speaking to his replacement:

PCB’s replacement, Woodrow Brimley (rumored to be the younger brother of Wilford Brimley of “Cocoon” and “Di-a-bee-tus!”fame) had only this to say: “Cry me a river lady! I’m 3 feet tall, bald, wearing white panty hose, and I’ve got a bolt stuck through my hand! Now leave me alone, I’m trying to pimp some Yellowtail (that’s what she said).”

But the interwebs is a strange and wonderful place. You just never know who you may meet. On August 13 of this year, new bloggy pal and alert reader Darlene, aka A Simple Country Girl sent me an astonishing report via email. The following is only a brief portion of what has become a full-blown investigation:

Bare Buns Butler Investigation Report:

Three days ago just as the light changed on Main Street, I happened to glance over my right shoulder and looked out the passenger car window. What I saw made me gasp aloud. Although I could not keep my gaze fixed, I was certain that I had seen Katdish’s missing Bare Buns Butler. I drove home and immediately contacted her with my potential siting.

Katdish persuaded me to go back to town with my camera and take some photographs and make notations. Although I wanted to immediately oblige, I couldn’t find an excuse to head that way twice in the same day. So today, with my six-year old son and camera in-tow, we drove through downtown. Dear reader, you must understand that downtown Walla Walla is not the most enticing place for a gigantic Dodge pick-up with large metal bumpers and a big front-end winch. It is more suited to the wine-seeking tourists driving shiny little Mercedes. Despite my attempts to blend in with the locale (by sucking in my abs and pretending my legs were tanned by a vacation on the Riviera), my diesel hummed loud and stuck out like a sore thumb. The tourists literally stopped and stared as I meandered through the boutique-lined streets and wildly searched for BBB at every stoplight. To my dismay, I could not find him.

Dejected, I drove off for our one real errand, miles away.

Perhaps the reason I could not find mister Bare Buns Butler was because when I first saw him I was in the low-riding Subaru and now I was riding high in the Dodge. En route to home and during our second trip through downtown, I drove even slower and searched even harder. Just near the last light, I saw mister man’s wooden head peaking out over a sign. Much to my delight there were two empty parking places nearby. Good thing two spots were open, because my non-covert vehicle overlaps the sides of the painted places.

Before leaving home I had attached my zoom lens to my camera because I wasn’t sure how close I could actually get to the subject, uh suspect, uh wooden butler man. Unfortunately this proved to be detrimental to snapping any close-ups of Bare Buns Butler’s defining features. Despite this disappointment in fulfilling my spy-like duties, you will find attached the several angles from which I did manage to sneakily snap some photographs.

Could this be our beloved Pornographic Cheese Butler???

Stay tuned…the plot thickens.

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