Thursday, March 17, 2005

TROLLIN’, TROLLIN’, TROLLIN’.



The British aren’t the only ones who adorn their homes with trolls. Spaniards do it, too. And here in Cabanillas del Campo, it has reached epidemic proportions.

Now, before I start receiving venomous letters from organizations like Trolls United for Respect and Dignity, let me make a disclaimer. I am not opposed to trolls, per se. When treated in the British manner—that is, artfully placed in a garden and partially (or preferably, fully) obscured by leafy vegetation—a troll nearly rises to the level of tastefulness.

Lamentably, however, the Spanish are not quite so demure. The residents of my town typically perch trolls atop the wall columns surrounding their homes. That is to say, if you are walking down a Cabanillas del Campo sidewalk and look up, you’ll likely find Dopey, Sneezy or Bashful cheerfully gazing down upon your scalp.

The above photo is a prime example.

This particular troll has an interesting biography. He stands guard over a house up the street from mine. And I must say that his master is an ambitious sort. He wasn’t content to own just any ol’ troll. No…his troll needed accessories.

But that’s not all.

The pictured troll is not an only child. Rather, he is just one soldier in an army of FIVE windmill-bearing trolls—each perched on its own column of a fifteen-meter stretch of wall on the south-west side of my neighbor’s house.

But that’s not all.

Prowling within the confines of my neighbor’s troll-laden walls is the biggest, buffest, twitchiest Mastiff ever to sprout four paws and a tail. In this respect, my neighbor’s trolls are a siren’s song to local burglars.

Imagine the scenario. A burglar is prowling my neighborhood in search of a cushy-looking house from which to snatch a Philips® Plasma-screen TV. He notices five smiling trolls seducing him to come closer—their colorful windmills gently spinning in the warm, Iberian breeze. The burglar can’t believe his luck. A cream-puff lives in this house! A cream-puff who NEEDS to be robbed! The burglar hoists himself over the wall like a well-trained gymnast. Then—the minute his feet touch earth on the other side—his left Achilles tendon is liberated from its foreleg by the hydraulic mandibles of a sight-unseen Mastiff.

Hmmm…perhaps my initial sarcasm was unwarranted. When viewed in this light, Spain’s trend toward trollification doesn’t seem quite so Dopey.
Posted by Hello

6 Comments:

At 3:18 PM, Blogger Bel said...

Hello! Sal,
Was just having a bit of a look at various blogs, came across yours - a lot of fun. keep up the good work... : )
Bel

 
At 4:05 PM, Blogger Sal DeTraglia said...

Hi Bel:

Thanks very much for your Comment and compliment! As far as I know, you are my first and only Brasileña-Parisienne reader.

And for any Portuguese-speaking readers out there, I encourage you to check out Bel's blog at http://belparis.blogspot.com/

¡Viva Rodizio! [Sorry...always thinking about food.]

Sal

 
At 3:23 PM, Blogger Bel said...

Sal,
Gracias! For recommending my blog.
I sometimes think it's a pity that it is mainly in Portuguese, because non-Portuguese speakers can't appreciate my genius. ha ha ha ha
There are 2 entries in English, however they're kind of cheating as one is a poem and the other is a letter to the NYTimes.
Btw, I haven't had rodizio in eons and miss it terribly.
Take care et a bientot!
ciao
Bel : )

 
At 3:44 PM, Blogger Me said...

What joy! Someone who knows about garden gnomes!

I'm a Brit... living in the US... with an American husband who is violently opposed to me putting my gnome out in my garden. *sniff* And Gordon Gnome would look so good out there too....

 
At 4:22 PM, Blogger Sal DeTraglia said...

Hi ME:

Thanks for stopping in!

Being an American guy myself, let me offer a little advice on your garden gnome dilemma.

Place a Pittsburgh Steelers hat on Gordon Gnome's head and a can of Budweiser in his hand. Then step back and wait for your husband to return home from work.

I guarantee that both Gordon and your hubbie will be sitting arm-n'-arm on your front porch before dinner is on the table. Bosom buddies forever more!

Groups of your husbands friends will be soon be gathering on the sidewalk; hooting and cheering and asking where they can get their own.
Your neighbors will start hanging signs on their porches that read, "Gnome-man's Land."

The trollification that has so infected Spain and England will spread like wildfire throughout the new world.

And it will all be due to you...and a can of Budweiser.

Thanks again for visiting, and come back soon.

Sal

 
At 6:18 PM, Blogger Me said...

OMG!!!!!!! You're brilliant!!

Mind you... it'd better be an Eagles hat... do the Steelers thing, and divorce will be out of the question, cuz he'd have murdered me!!!!

That's so funny!!!! Good idea though... will report back when Gordon is dressed, boozed up, and ready to receive his fans! LOL

 

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