Festivus (12 page)

The substance spilled on the steps of the Festivus House at Miami University was not identifiable

There is a tradition at Miami, located in Oxford, Ohio, of students naming their houses, usually using puns and references to activities undergraduates find important: Genital Hospital, Boot ‘n’ Rally, and Octopussy are three recent house names.

“Festivus” was born of a desire to be different. Execution was cheap. “We got some plywood, painted it with spray paint in the colors,” says housemate Josh Fawley, 21, pausing his video football game to chat with a visitor. “Then Joe went up into the attic and we tied some rope to the sign and he pulled it up. It was an adventure.”

“We had a Festivus pole out front,” Josh continues, nodding toward the front door from his perch on a black leather sofa. “It was stuck in the ground. It blew over.”

No one has stuck it back in the ground. Likewise, the lads strung lights on the Festivus sign for a party in the spring, but the “F” blinked out soon after and hasn’t been fixed. “Fixing the ‘F’ will be tough,” Tyler says. “There’s a bees’ nest up there.” A typical day in the Festivus House might start with Tyler feeding his phosphorescent fish Ray Ray and Georgia. “They glow under a black light,” he boasts.

Later, Tyler and Joe will pick up their guitars and practice the songs “Chasing Amnesia” and “Better When You’re Gone” that they play in their band named Bell. Nighttime will find Joe lying on his single bed with a plaid bedspread on it, staring at a poster of two young women in white jeans. “He found that poster,” Josh says. “We don’t know who the girls are.”

Festivus miracles don’t always come when wished for in the rickety white-shingled house on East Sycamore Street.

“One time,” Tyler says, “we shot the fire extinguishers off all around the house, but we had to leave the house because then you couldn’t breathe.”

Although the men of Festivus House feel a rush of pride on those almost daily occasions when someone rolls down a window and shouts “Happy Festivus!” while driving past, they find some of the comme of passersby confusing.

“It’s weird,” Tyler says during a break in studying. “I was walking down the sidew near the house the other day and I heard someone say, ‘rather live in the dorm n year than that sh––h Festivus. It has to be worst house on campus Tyler pauses. “We m have had a bunch of trash out. I don’t know.”

Where Joe dreams

FESTIVITIS

Brett Fischer, a physical trainer whose facility in Phoenix attracts NFL and Major League Baseball players in the off-season, named the brutal 25- to 30-minute circuit of running and twisting exercises he sets up every Friday “Festivus.” “The word has taken on a new meaning,” Brett explains. “It’s a conglomeration of a workout regiment, a festival-like attitude, and
Seinfeld
thrown in.”

The workout, consisting of a series of 5- to 6-second Feats of Strength, is tough. “Some guys have puked,” Brett says.

Festivitis

T-shirt made by Jake Plummer of the Denver Broncos

With such a reputation, many athletes choose to skip Fridays at Fischer Sports. Brett invented a word for the disease of not showing up Fridays: “Festivitis.”

Those who refuse to come down with a case of it include Jake Plummer, the quarterback of the Denver Broncos. He showed up one Friday with T-shirts he’d had printed that he gave to anyone who completed the course. The T-shirts read, “Festivus Won’t Get the Bestivus.”

FESTIVUS FELINES

Festivus has become a popular cat name. Here are the stories of Festivus, Microfestivus, and Festy, each told by their owners.

The Happy Tale of Festivus
(with some magic realism at the end)

by Brittany Benson, an eighth grader from Fincastle, Virginia

“Oh, Mommy, let’s get that one,” my little sister said, pointing.

“What do you think, Brittany?” my mom asked.

I took her from my mom. There was something strange about her. It wasn’t really her looks; there was just a strange thing about her. I loved it.

“I love her,” I said. “She is the coolest!”

“All right, we’ll take her,” my mom said.

We all started trying to think of a name. Finally, my mom said, “How about Festivus?” It fit her strange name for strange holiday and now for a strange.

When we at home, we all wrestled with her attack and then it is time for bed. Festivus was obviously not ready for bed. She kept attacking my fingers.

Festivus

Two weeks later, I was watching TV when I heard the top part of “Heart and Soul” being played on the piano. The rest of my family had gone to Grandma’s, so I got really nervous. When the tune changed to “Ode to Joy” I realized that if it was a robber or someone else bad, they wouldn’t be letting me know that they were there.

I crept to the den. I jumped into the room. I was stunned. Festivus was on the piano.

She jumped off and went out the window. The last I heard of her, she was in Orlando, entertaining tourists in Disney World.

The Sad Tale of Microfestivus

by Brittany’s mom, Cathy Benson

Microfestivus, daughter of Festivus, came into the world on Memorial Day weekend 2001. Festivus was not a very good mother, much too young to be a mom and so fat already that we knew not her pregnant state until we found a kitten in the dog crate.

I am sad to say that Brittany and I took better care of the kitten than Festivus did. Festivus would yowl to the tiny kitty and Microfestivus would run to her only to be wrestled and boxed by her mother. Alas, Micro never got over her mother’s rejection and became always the rebel. Perhaps Microfestivus was doomed from the start trying to live up to her name and her mother’s giant shadow. She was a long-haired tortie cat with a dainty face and sweet nature. We never knew who the father was.

Microfestivus met her demise on the road below our home when the milk truck—a tanker with a semi pulling it—knocked her off in spring 2004 on the way to our neighbor’s dairy farm. She knew no boundaries and her complaint with the milk truck was her downfall. You cannot wrestle with a big rig pulling a tanker down a winding country road. May she rest in peace.

The Indifferent Tale of Festy

by Scott Kirschner of Norwalk, Connecticut

We adopted Festy, a feral cat, January 1, 2002. along with her brother Plato. She is fluffy. Her full name was Festivus, which had come from the
Seinfeld
show, and we’re big fans, so we kept it. But we call her “Festy.” Plato had a dumb name before: Hiccup. It was really affecting his self-worth.

Festy

Although Festy is a dainty little princess, she can be aggressive and pick fights with her brother. One of their favorite games is “Kitty NASCAR,” where they run and chase each other from one floor, down the front stairs, across the lower floor, then up the back stairs over and over.

Although the cats are mostly indoors and don’t hunt, my girlfriend thinks Festy would be the better hunter.

Festy is also an addict. She is addicted to Pounce, a cat treat. We’re trying to wean her, but the withdrawls are ugly.

The Exploitation of Festivus

As if it’s not enough that there are now two books about Festivus
(Festivus: The Holiday for the Rest of Us,
Warner Books, 2005, Hachette Audio, 2006, expanded paperback edition, Grand Central Publishing, 2008; and
The Real Festivus,
Perigree, 2005), businessmen and others have schemed how to milk the holiday in myriad other ways. That this would infect it with the one element that most attracts many Festivus followers by its absence, commercialism, seems not to be a concern of those who would use Festivus for their own ends.