Catacosmesis (kat-a-kos-mees’-is): Ordering words from greatest to least in dignity, or in correct order of time.
“One, and a two, and a three.” It was driving me crazy. We did the “count up” before every song. We were the “Flying Welks” a Lawrence Welk tribute band. I played the keystone instrument: the accordion. We did mostly polka music, playing a Lawrence Welk playlist. We play “Who Stole the Kishka?” at least 200 times per year. The “champagne” bubbles float across the stage, popping in my eyes and challenging me to keep pumping my accordion and sing.
Don’t get me wrong. I had some really fun times with the Flying Welks’s version of the 3 Lennon Sisters. We would play “I am the magnet, you are the steel” in my dressing room. It was damn fun, but not enough fun to keep me from quitting the Flying Welks. The Lennon Sisters cried. Our boss, Crosswind Bob, wished me well, while he fingered his 12-inch stiletto. I ignored him and thought about my new life.
I had founded a four-person rock band I named “The Cashmere Underground.” I had been writing an edgy song about my addiction to “Funions.” Funions are fake salted onion rings that compete with potato chips in the snack food market. My addiction began when I couldn’t keep my hand out of the bag—once my hand was in. I’d clutch a handful of Funions, and then, stuff them in my mouth. Two years ago, I almost od’d. I went on a three day Funion binge and woke up in the hospital.
But that’s all behind me. I’ve been Funion-free for one-year now. I’ve been on “Cheese Doodles” for about six weeks. The orange stain on my fingertips is a beacon to my girlfriend who immediately cuts me off and when my fingertips turn orange. With her intervention Cheetos addiction will never strike. Thank God for Folly—my girlfriend.
Currently, I am learning to play “Sympathy for the Devil” and “Hotel California” on my accordion.
Definitions courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu.
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