Return of the gnome

When I was growing up my parents indulged in a little game called “Pass the Poodle.” During a white elephant exchange my dad got stuck with perhaps the ugliest gift ever, an “art” piece (term used rather loosely here) of a macramé and macaroni- glued poodle on a piece of cardboard. My dad promptly left it in the giver’s bedroom (Scott Luell for you Eugenians). So began the great poodle war of the 1990s, 2000s, and probably, 2010s. Over the years, the poodle has gained a Mariners hat, been put on a roof, strung up a flag pole, and been given a Christmas light border as it has gotten punk’d back and forth between various Palmen and Luell members.

All this to say: I shouldn’t have underestimated him.

A couple of months ago, my dad left us a “present,” a very sad looking lawn gnome that he snuck into our front bushes- where it stayed for two days before he was found. Naturally when we went to Eugene last month, it only seemed fitting to leave the gnome where he truly belonged, back in my dad’s front bushes.

Alas, when Casey got to work on Monday morning, a giant box was on his desk. The return address read “Gnome Rescue,” and nestled inside was the above, our lovely gnome friend with a new t-shirt. The enclosed note reads:

Dada Casey,

I am so glad that you have found me! I fell asleep in the back of the Jeep and awoke to find myself in a thick patch of ivy. I quickly realized that I had been kidnapped by a not-so-merry band of hippies. I was taken to a commune and put on guard duty in an organic garden. Boy, poop “the organic in organic gardening” sure smells awful in 90-degree heat. I was forced to eat tofu! They rubbed me down with patchouli oil every night. They subjected me to second-hand smoke of the non-tobacco variety. They kept me up all night with ritual drumming. They tried to put my hair in dreadlocks but luckily, my porcelain was too thick. Of course, no one wears clothing in a commune so I had to steal this t-shirt from a puppy baby from Eugene. I hid in their All-Terrain Pram Stroller until they stopped at the Saturday Market. I then was able to make my way to the post office, find this box and make my way back to you, my precious gnome Daddy! My homey-gnomey! I am so glad that we are together again! Soon I will heal from my long hemp-infused nightmare. I promise I will remain vigilant at all times. Keep me safe

*Printed on 100% post-consumer recycled bath tissue.


Oh, it’s on now.