Evolution of the Drunken Crane

actual cranes
karate kid crane
drunken master kung fu.




drunken crane makers


I suppose I should have known better and found something to do, but in my naivete, I figured, "How out of control can four women get while doing a good deed?" Little did I know...or suspect...and, I wanted pizza because I knew four women would NOT eat two whole pies! Nothing is ever free so I knew that if I wanted to eat, I'd have to help first. Thus it was, that I got sucked into the "1,000 Crane Club."
This tradition goes 'way back to somewhere in ancient Japan, I suppose. I know Genghis Khan wouldn't have done it what with all the slashing and burning he was about, but folding paper into the shape of a crane had to start somewhere, and I'll lay it on the Japanese. Traditionally, a bride-to-be who completes the folding of 1,000 cranes before her wedding will be blessed with a good and happy marriage. (From what I know of Japanese marriage tradition, it doesn't seem that rosy to me, but then, maybe all the wowmen in stories I've read couldn't get the crane thing done) This task, called "sembazuru," is modeled after the crane who mates for life and is said to live a thousand years. Anyway, the origami tradition continues whenever one has a wish to fulfill, whether it be for peace, health or luck. Fortunately, the task now generally includes many people on one project...believe me, if you've ever folded ONE crane, you'd realize why this is true.
Anyway, this particular project of love was begun by a small group of people who wish for recuperative powers for a sister/cousin/friend suffering from cancer. It is truly a gesture of love, and given the amount of time and energy expended on a solitary paper bird, I was touched deeply by the glow of energy emanating from love that surrounded them tonight. I paused to think how many of the world's problems could be solved by people getting together and swearing over origami.
I'm a beer guy, plain and simple, but the ladies made a festive occasion of the event by noshing (barely) on pizza (more for me!) a veggie tray and assorted chocolate things while delicately sipping wine from Grandma's antique wine glasses, brought over, no doubt, from the "old country."
As the sedge (I knew you'd want to know the plural form) of cranes grew, and the focus got more intense, the sense of urgency grew as well. Maybe it was because I tried to make it a competitive event: "Did you hear Carol say how good Patti's was?" Somehow, though, talking smack really didn't do much...it was not a Type A group in crane making, anyway. Maybe it was because they realized that a thousand was a hell of a lot of cranes to fold according to 28-step directions and rushing was just not a great idea. Whatever the case, food was forgotten: it was all cranes and wine.
Finally spent from the effort, these symbolic descendents of the first oragamists (?) decided to call it a night. The first and only really necessary clue was the shocking demise of a wine glass . It could have been two women simply clinging to each other in fond farewell; it could have been a congratulatory, sisterly hug by two people joined in a common, hope-filled cause; OR, it could have been Patti and Kirsten lunging simulatenously for the dregs in a glass which teetered between them momentarily before smashing to smithereens on the dining room floor. I missed the first part, busy as I was swearing at the creased paper in front of me ("Oh, YOU took the expensive paper, I see.") Tears streaming from my eyes as I remembered Grandma gently caressing that wine glass, I carefully collected the fragments (even the tiniest) to save in her memory. I'll especially remember her every time that humongous sliver in my big toe digs into my flesh.
Fortunately, my Big Gulp cup from 7-11 was fine when I knocked it over reaching in vain for the wine glass.
As of now, we're about 900 cranes short, but once Steve and I get the hang of it and can do it without swearing, we'll be golden.