What I Did on My Day Off (or, "Willow's Got the Biggest Balls of Them All!")

Greetings from the Second Annual Willow Manor Ball!

But first, here's a brief run-down of the last few days:

I must admit, when I first learned of the Willow Manor Ball, I was so glad my dancing skills had improved since my awkward high school days...

Before Skip Simpson (a/k/a "The Skipster") picked me up in the Skipster One on Sunday night -- along with Cameron Diaz (a/k/a "Cammie"), his date -- I decided to try on my outfit to make sure it still fit. As I was admiring... I mean, judging my "look" in the mirror, there was a knock on my door.

Imagine my surprise at the sight of the lovely Catherine Zeta-Jones. It seems that she is an avid blog reader, and naturally was aware of the impending event of the internet year! Unfortunately, she was confused by my photos in costume, and thought that I was her co-star in two Zorro films, Antonio Banderas! (I'm not sure how she tracked me down... Perhaps Blogger and T-Mobile have some sort of agreement...)

Catherine "admitted" that she'd long had a crush on me (Antonio, that is), and wanted to be my date to the ball. What to do, what to do... I quickly decided that one bird in the hand was not worth several dozen in the bush, shall we say, so although I ordinarily would have jumped at the chance -- and her -- I begged off reluctantly.

I told her about this unfortunate case of mistaken identity, and unmasked. She didn't care! She still wanted me! "Just one date!" she pleaded, but I held firm. (No wisecracks, please, fellow babies.)

I searched for excuses. "I'm old enough to be your... err... older brother!" I protested.

"Dude!" she exclaimed loudly. "Have you seen the guy I'm married to?!?"

She called me "dude?" Didn't expect that... certainly not a word I'd ever use... But I digress...

Her reference to Michael Douglas gave me an inspiration. I told her I wouldn't think of consorting with a married woman. Thinking of the guests at the Willow Manor Ball, of course, I realized what a bald-faced lie that was... But again, I digress.

She left, crestfallen.

On Sunday night, Skip arrived at Worcester Airport in Massachusetts in the Skipster One. Cameron Diaz and I were waiting, along with hopeful gate-crasher Tom Cruise.

In keeping with my outfit, I decided to bring my faithful steed, Toronado.

However, I also brought my precious 1963 Corvette Stingray, purchased a few years ago from some gent named "Roland." After all, I was hoping that one or more of the guests would agree to some "private time" with The Silver Fox... and not everyone likes to ride on horseback!

Good thing the Skipster One is such a huge plane!

The flight to Willow Manor was uneventful, except when Tom -- obviously confusing himself with his "Top Gun" character -- insisted on piloting the plane. He recklessly sent us into a barrel roll, which in turn sent Ms. Diaz (Okay, okay, Skip, "Cammie!") into my arms. She thanked me for cushioning her fall, but when she made an off-color remark about a "sheath for [my] sword," I turned her down politely. After all, she was Skip's date.

And Skip was on the plane...

After Skip regained control of the plane, Tom calmed down quite a bit, apologizing to us all, etc. He asked if there were any chance that we could swing a last-minute invite to the ball, and we said we'd try... But when I asked him to promise not to bring up Scientology to any of the other guests, he freaked out again, necessitating he be taken away for a brief "rest" when the plane had landed.

Having been warned of our early arrival, our gracious and elegant hostess, Willow, let the three of us stay in her spacious guest wing for two nights and a day. Wanting to spare her large liquor supply, Skip and I occasionally retired to the bar on the Skipster One for cocktails and conversation, where I regaled him with my brand-new Catherine Zeta-Jones anecdote. (Parts of this conversation are repeated elsewhere.) Skip showed me a poem he had written for Cameron Diaz. Not up to his usual standards, unfortunately, although he was quite proud of it.

At one point, I even allowed Skip's precious "Cammie" to borrow the keys to my Corvette, for a drive into town. Strange, I don't recall her returning the keys... But I digress.

Now, as for the ball itself...

As the old song says, "I could have danced all night!" (I even sneaked in a few dances sans costume, just to see if anyone would recognize me. Apparently, Willow did!) Such lovely ladies at the ball, and it seems that so many wanted a chance to take to the floor with Ye Olde Fox... some of them more than once. I blush! I'm so glad I decided to arrive "stag," without a date. And as for any... *ahem*... extra-curricular activities, shall we say... Well, there are some things a gentleman never discusses.

I suppose the highlight of the evening was when I took to the floor with one young lady in particular. It's kind of difficult to make out who she is in the following video, but... Well, she knows who she is!

I was quite honored that during this dance, the other partygoers let myself and my lady-of-the-moment have the floor to ourselves... except for a brief moment when this unlikely-looking couple took to the floor:

Ah, so many memories! I cannot thank Willow enough for her hospitality, and the other guests were all so refined, and for certain other activities, I'd especially like to thank... Well, you know who you are...

(Both of you.)

I haven't seen Skip and Cammie for a while now. I assume things are going along swimmingly.

And there's so much more to see reading the other sites! What an adventure!

As always, ladies and gentlemen, The Silver Fox thanks you for your time.

P.S. ~~ Oh, and now? Now, having washed the Zorro-ish black dye from my hair -- I am the Silver Fox, don't forget! -- and having ridden Toronado to where the valet has parked my...

...my...

...

Dude!!! Where's my car?!?