Not because it needed to happen, certainly, and not because either of us are really obsessed with Colin Firth (though we both agree he is pretty cool), but just because the name -The name! This one was too good to toss back into the water!- demanded it, we hosted the Colin Firthquake this weekend. The way it happened was this:
1. Read a list of natural disasters unlikely to occur
2. Got so cracked up over this idea that we decided it must occur
3. Assembled an event around the name
It came together well. Meghan has an Anatomy and Physiology final coming up for which she must know the ins and outs of the human brain. So she made a diagram of Colin Firth's brain and did a short presentation on his life and film career. Then I MC'ed a game of Colin Firth charades with movie titles and bits of information from the Wikipedia Colin Firth page. And then the main event of the night: a mash-up of the Victorian manners of The Importance of Being Earnest, the rough-and-tumble hijinks of a game of spoons, and the pace-tracking literacy of Horse. Thrills! Each time the name Ernest was spoken in the movie (and you know it's quite a few if you've seen it), everyone had to take a spoon from the table, and the last one to get a spoon got a letter. E-R-N-E-S-T. I spelled Ernest first, and I was out. We continued the elimination, removing one spoon from the game each round, until Kirsten and Meg duked it out and Kirsten won.
Also, compliments of the house artist, we each had little badges to wear.
For the girls:
And for the guys, even higher aspirations:
The question you're probably asking at this point is, "Hey, can I steal your idea and have my own Colin Firthquake?" And the answer is ABSOLUTELY! The concept of staking a unique claim on any sort of idea is so nine years ago (except in Eastern Texas), and we sort of appropriated it from another source to begin with anyway. This is the age of open exchange. Go for it. While you're at it, The Fresca Fiesta and the Emilio Festevez are both begging to be hosted. Let me know how those go.
Adios,
Kent
|