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Long ago, a curse was cast upon the
Olson family, a curse that has to this day persisted and caused
unthinkable hardship upon many sects of the Olson clan. Though
its exact origins are unknown, some history of this evil vessel
has been documented, mainly by eyewitness accounts and personal
tales of horror. The miseries caused by this blasted object
must be told to the world, and this page is dedicated to tracking
the history and whereabouts of this horrific heirloom.
Little is known of the vase, but what
we have been able to ascertain is the following:
1. It is not possible to destroy
the vase. It will always come back.
2. If the vase finds its way into your possession the only way to
be rid of it is to pass it on to another member of the Olson
family, under stealth. If an attempt is made to relinquish
the vase to a non-Olson, certain doom will befall you.
3. It has been found possible to gift the vase to a fellow Olson,
but only at family events, and only for special accomplishments (ie.
outstanding accordion solos)
The vase has traveled many miles,
spreading misfortune, broadcasting evil, unabashedly flaunting its
ugliness with no respect for decency or goodness. What
follows is a set of tales from those who have been forever tainted
by the curse of the vase.
Curtis Olson
Peter Olson
Mark Olson
Gerry Davidson
Peter Olson
Hazel-Ann Stark
Chadifer
Mustard Rugs and Accordions
- Carrie/Curt The
vase entered the realm of the Olson family during an action packed
house warming at the House of Domestic bliss; mine and Carrie's
first house in beautiful Saskatoon at 1509 Lorne Avenue. The house
warming gifts from our generous friends and family included an
absurd glass-swan ashtray (Hazel and Ian) that turned into a cognac drinking
vessel, a wooden shelf that Jayesh had "rescued" from a ditch,
claiming it was a liquor cabinet, and one endearing
diarrhea-brown vase from Lynn Exner that actually matched the
mustard rug in our new abode. While the swan and liquor cabinet
served definite purposes in our house (recall "drinking out of the
swan's ass"), the vase just didn't seem to fit to well into our
décor. Thus, we seized the opportunity when Uncle Mark and his,
ummmm....bewildering accordion solo, resulted in him being charged
with a DUI-O; Dancing while Under the Influence - of an Olson.
To the Pacific -
Peter/Loretta
I can’t be sure of the origin of the vase
but I do know that I was aware of it being around prior to it
becoming in my possession. I also know that once it was
acquired, through whatever means was necessary to complete the
transfer, that I was committed to protect the vessel; with my
life, if necessary. Although the thoughts of the vase coming
in contact with the bumper of my car or perhaps “falling” off the
counter might suffice in quick dispossession; I could never bring
myself to the task.
Therefore, I waited for an opportunity to
unload.
The opportunity presented itself when Curtis
and Carrie decided they would spread their wings and migrate to
the warmer westerly Pacific and Vancouver Island. I quickly
volunteered to assist at a time when there was much activity in
loading the heavy articles of furniture, beds, dressers, etc. and
of course several dozen boxes that conveniently fit into the
little nooks and crannies that formed and required filling.
I had very carefully packed the exquisite and very expensive vase
in a nondescript and completely unidentifiable box that indicated
“Compressor Parts” and “Non PCB Material” in bold lettering on all
four sides. However, I was uncertain as to whether Curtis and
Carrie had actually identified the contents of any packaging,
therefore I marked “Wedding Gift” in what I considered to be
Curtis’s handwriting which is very similar to tiny chicken
scratch.
All this preparation and planning would have
been very useful had Curtis suspected any sort of nefarious
activity; however, as it turned out the placement of the package
in a convenient cranny was without incident and the container
sealed and secured for the trip to Victoria.
The “coup de gras” was the telephone call I
received 9 days later. It went like this:
Peter: Hello?
Curtis: You
Bastard!
Peter: Mission
accomplished; you are now the proud protector. Have a nice
day. Click.
Mark Olson’s cursed episode with the dreaded vase
It all started out just
another pleasant day over the Christmas holidays. I was feeling
good, having just returned home to Kingston from Barrie after
being with my new grandson. Imagine the horror I felt when I
discovered the vase in my family room. How did it get there? There
was only one answer. Curtis and Carrie had somehow conspired to
slip it into the house while visiting from Victoria. I think it
was an inside job and the guilty party (or parties) when
discovered, will be punished!
Now what was I to do?
This hideous object had to go! I had three choices:
1.
Garbage it.
-
Send it off to some unsuspecting
family member
3.
Attempt to appreciate it.
Of course,
the first option was the best however I knew of the curse and
could not proceed down that road. The second option was
impossible according to the legend. Option three? - I was
physically ill soon after the above picture was taken. Option
three was definitely out. I sent the above pictures to Carrie and
Curtis hoping to throw them off as I had decided on a course of
action to somehow rid myself of this vile object. Their mocking
response is shown below:
Dearest
Mark,
Thanks so
much for the pictures of the beloved award. I'm glad you rescued
it from the
garbage (was that Linda's doing?) and gave it a place of honor
by the
fireplace. As in your picture, Curt did love reading aloud to the
vase many a
night. (Your facial expression, gazing upon the trophy, did
seem a tad
sinister however. Perhaps you were reading "Crime and
Punishment" or
the like.)
We were very
happy to learn that the vase arrived safely at its final
destination
all the way from Victoria. I wrapped it very carefully. Many
times, Curtis
almost left it. . . I mean, forgot it in the airport. We
snickered. .
.I mean, were aghast when the flight attendant suggested
putting it in
the trolley might damage it. Now, we can rest soundly.
I forgot to
tell you to use a dry soft cloth when cleaning to avoid
scratching or
streaking. Try putting it by the window for the neighbors to
see. It does
glisten so brilliantly in the sun.
Love Carrie
and Curtis
The vase is now resting in a comfortable
location thankfully far, far away as I have rid myself of it. The
new owner must now deal with this abomination and good luck to
him.
Calgary Bound - Gerry Gets the Vase (as told by Gerry and
scribed by nephew Kris)
My real name is Gerry Davidson but I am
commonly referred to as "The Old Goat". I like bicycling,
baking cookies, dancing in the rain, trying to kill nephews on
dangerous mountain hikes, and calculating after tax yields on high
quality income generating securities. What I do not like is
the shadow of death the cruel Olson Vase casts over my living room
and my life. It sadly came into my possession as a result of
some financial charity work I did for yet another of my
financially challenged relatives. Though he called it "a
token of his appreciation" I think he was really trying to get
back at me for that unsettling bought of fisticuffs we engaged in
some decades before while drunkenly discussing British politics in
the El Kuroki bar.
My initial reaction to the unwelcome
gift was to hurl it off my back deck at one of the deer standing
there eating my raspberry bushes. But then I realized if I
did this, it would only shatter and leave sadistic shards all over
my grass which I would surely trod upon while dancing out there in
the rain. Instead, I wrapped it in burlap and stuffed it
under the stairs where it would no longer soil my surroundings.
The next morning, the vase appeared again in my living room!
So I double wrapped it, once with burlap then again with kevlar
and jammed it much deeper under the stairs and layered it with
pieces of furniture and boxes of clothes left abandoned in my
basement by various nieces and daughters. Curses! The
next morning it yet again appeared, even shinier and more sinister
than before. Realizing it could not be hidden and knowing it
could not be destroyed, the only option available to me was to
pass it on. So I watched. And I waited.......
2005 Olson Cottage Birthday Party - Scavenger Hunt "Prize"
Tremendous family gatherings are the perfect
opportunity to hand off the wretched vase. The Olson family
cottage at Fishing Lake, Saskatchewan turned 50 this year
prompting a homecoming of many of the Olson clan. There had
been talk of the vase's destruction at the hands of uncle Gerry
but he was unable to - obviously due to the vase's awesome power
of self-preservation. The vase was located, bound and
packed into the trunk of a car headed for the lake.
The plan was to award the vase to the winner of
the scavenger hunt, planned by some of the Olson cousins.
The beauty of the plan was that the elder Olson siblings were to
be the various team captains, therefore ultimately destined to
take responsibility for accepting the unnatural prize.
...and it was Team Pedro who won the scavenger
hunt, though it was universally agreed that it was a contest
hardly worth winning considering the payload.
2005/6 - The Starks Hog
The Vase
When the Dark Lord RayBan first created
the vase of power, we had no idea of it's insidious magnetism.
First we received it from the house of Curtis and Carrie, then
passed it to the house of Peesker, then received it back with
twin butterflies on a drive-by vasing and then having
transported it through the misty mountains, it arrived on Mark's
doorstep... insert disk 2
It was the summer of 2005, and the
vase was won by "he who shall not be named" (yes we are mixing
movies) who then...one week later... breaking all rules of
propriety and engagement, dumped the vase at a mere
insignificant weenie roast. (not your typical family event and
totally ignoring the rules regarding passage of the vase of
power.)
Having been passed in such a
manner, the aura of strength surrounding the vase had weakened.
The vase was displayed with pride in the front yard and was
blown over by a strong wind. In it's weakened state, it
shattered. Through the ministrations of a Celtic Elder it was
rebuilt (a.k.a. glued back together) and has been passed to a
new generation who we are sure will appreciate it's beauty and
balance and form as much as Peter. ( he who shall not be named)
(oops we named him)
The Chadifer
Incident - Calgary, 2006
Well I have been putting off telling
our chapter of the "Travels of the Olson Vase" for two reasons.
One - it has been an unpleasant experience I would rather
forget. Two - what really can be said about it?
It all started on a glorious Sunday
afternoon - the day after our wedding. We had barely slept the
previous night, and were delirious with happiness. We decided
to sit down with the Ron Peeskers and open a few gifts. I
remember Chad picking up a big box that was beautifully wrapped
in blue paper (my favourite color). He opened the card and
paused for a minute and then read it out to all of us.
"...and so, the Olson Family Tradition
has been passed!! Love Uncle Peter"
We looked at each other and said "no
it couldn't be!!" but when Chad opened the box, the horror
became reality. The vase had been passed on. At first I was
shocked that I hadn't expected this (I should have known
better). And then I was saddened by the fact that I would have
to look at it everyday, until I came up with my own brilliant
plan. I tried to make the best of it by putting some of my
wedding flowers in it. The flowers died immediately.
The most disheartening thing was that
even though the card said "Love Uncle Peter" the handwriting
looked mysteriously like my own mother's handwriting! Could she
be so coldhearted? No, not Maxine. But who........?
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