I EAT CANNIBALS!

[muckefuck]

Saturday afternoon, monshu and I dropped in to a publication party at a small press on Hubbard. We left none the wiser as to why they thought there was a market for a $3,000 volume of our friend Lee's biography of his Russian father-in-law, but at least we had under our belts a couple glasses of decent wine, a few bites of tasty hors d'œuvres (though poor monshu missed out on a truly fantastic tarte aux oignons), and two hours of mostly worthwhile chat with a whirlwind of interesting people.

On the way over, I'd spotted a used bookstore where I'd forgotten one existed and begged monshu to let me stop in. He agreed to 15 minutes on the way back to the bus to our next engagement, which was really more than sufficient given their disappointing selection. I spent $10 on three books, but the only real discovery among them was $1.50 Dover reprint of a slim volume on Plains Indian Sign Language available online in its entirety (but with the illustrations poorly reproduced).

What tickled me most about it is that it's apparently the work that inspired Baden-Powell to incorporate Indian Sign Language into scouting and, thus, the direct predecessor of those cheesy glossaries included in my Official Boy Scout Handbook back when I was a child. As you can see, there's actually a suggested Sign Language playlet for Scout troupes in the book itself.

So Sunday, when I couldn't fire myself to do much of anything, I spent a little while in bed teaching myself a few signs. I need more practice, though, if I'm going to avoid pitfalls like making the sign for "Indian" (left hand flat, palm down; two swipes with the right fingertips from wrist to knuckles) when I want to say "bacon" (left hand flat, palm up; two swipes with thumb and forefinger of right hand from knuckles to wrist). Could be embarrassing!

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