Below is a brief excerpt from my book “Not Quite Right: Mostly True Tales of a Weird News Reporter.” To order a signed copy for $15, email firstname.lastname@example.org. Important note: If you were thinking of buying Sweetums a Bigfoot collectible, you must first fill out a form stating what it is and detailing your intentions and send it to me for approval. Once you have done that, I will say NO.
Put a six-foot-seven, three-hundred-pound man in a Bigfoot suit, send him out into the Alabama night and what do you get?
A dead guy in a Bigfoot suit.
At the very least, you’ll get a guy chased by camo-wearing, good-ol’ boys who pitchfork him in the nether regions – if Sasqui even have nether regions.
That’s what I keep telling Sweetums, who has said for the past three Halloweens that he wants a furry Sasquatch outfit so he can stand along dark roadsides and scare people. For those of you who are thinking, “How cute. That Sweetums has such a sense of fun and mischief!” No. What he has is a death wish. And (spoiler alert) I married him.
Most couples argue about such things as where to put the neon PBR sign the guy brings to the household. Him: In the living room. Her: In the far reaches of the landfill. Me: Her answer is correct. (Well, it’s my book, I should get a vote).
But Sweetums and I are dealing with something much more stressful – his growing collection of all things Sasquatch, including several action figures, two stuffed toys, a set of vintage Bigfoot comic books and his personalized license plate that reads “Squach.” Despite several, meaning eight, T-shirts saying otherwise, Sweetums doesn’t believe in the existence of Bigfoot. He’s just fascinated with the myth and the legend. I think. I comfort myself with the knowledge that he’s never gone on a Bigfoot hunt. That I know of.
Still, there are consequences to Sweetums’ hobby. For instance, his birthday last year was Sasquatch themed. Here’s just a sampling of the gifts Sweetums received from friends, family and coworkers, none of whom coordinated their efforts:
- A 16-inch-tall magnetic dress-up Bigfoot figure, complete with a Hawaiian shirt and lei, dad sandals with socks, and tighty whities. For hours of pretend play!
- A dozen or so Sasquatch ornaments for the Christmas tree.
- A dozen or so Yeti (abominable snowmen) ornaments.
- Several bars of Dr. Squatch soap. (It doesn’t, thankfully, smell like an actual Bigfoot. Or what I imagine one would smell like.)
- A vintage 1977 Milton-Bradley board game called “Bigfoot,” in which players make a brown plastic Sasquatchian figure stomp around the board. Made at a time when kids faced dangers like getting stomped by a plastic Bigfoot without benefit of hovering parents or seatbelts. Those were the days.
- A popper toy that shoots soft balls from the mouth of a Bigfoot.
- A small decorative statue depicting a Bigfoot stomping on a garden gnome. It’s called the Gnome Wrecker. Bigfoot, a garden gnome and a pun – the guy birthday trifecta!
- A T-shirt that reads: “Always Be Yourself. Unless You Can Be a Sasquatch. Then Always Be a Sasquatch.” Well, obvi. Annnndddd about two dozen other Bigfoot tees.
- A patriot Bigfoot casual button-up shirt featuring Bigfoot and American flags.
- Three Bigfoot statues: one carved with a chainsaw on the patio, a small concrete one that Sweetums bought for decoration at our wedding (!!!!), and a small carved wooden one in the foyer.
- An adorable wooden shelf-sitter made by a reader and now friend, Charlie Button.
- An actual Bigfoot suit that fits a 6-foot-7, 350-pound man.
- A metal Bigfoot street sign.
- A metal Bigfoot profile that sticks in the ground.
- Numerous Bigfoot books.
- Funko Pop Bigfoot figure.
- Bigfoot throw pillows.
- Bigfoot quilt.
- Metal wall signs.
- Several plush Sasqui.
- A Bigfoot jigsaw puzzle.
- Bigfoot and Yeti action figures.
- Several really, really, really bad DVDs of Bigfoot movies.