On Saturday night at Memory Lanes bowling alley in Minneapolis, a woman boldly disrobed in front of hundreds of patrons. But instead of revealing her naked body, she wore a skin tight, flesh colored body suit. The woman proudly showed off her fake-goodies to every single attendee at Lebowski Fest, the travelling circus celebration for the legendary Coen Brothers movie “The Big Lebowski.” Lebowski Fest  had stopped in the Twin Cities for a night of bowling, beers, and what have you. The woman was dressed as Maude, Julianne Moore’s character, and she was reenacting the scene when Maude asks Jeff “The Dude” Lebowski to doooo her. As an oblivious Memory Lanes employee sprayed disinfectant into a pile of bowling shoes, the woman threw her head back and cooed, “Make love to me Jeffery. Coitus.”

A crowd of Lebowski Fest Duders, a motley crew of folks dressed as Nihilists, Dudes, Strangers, Walters, and Donnys, gathered around to watch the woman put her heart and soul and pelvis into the scene. Devoted fans of the cult film sprinkled their applause with classic Lebowski quotes.

 “Her performance is strongly vaginal,” a Lebowski Fest attendee muttered.

“I’m just sorry her stepmother is a nympho,” said another. 

Then a man dressed as a giant Half and Half bottle strolled through the crowd carrying a bowling ball. But since a majority of the man’s arms were tucked up inside the cardboard costume, he carried the ball with what looked like two tiny T-Rex arms. But arms or no arms, the guy was going to roll. In Half and Half’s wake, two men walked through the party with Time Magazine “Man of the Year” covers framing their faces. A man dressed as Moses in a Sandy Koufax jersey (representing 3,000 years of beautiful Jewish tradition) sauntered around with stone tablets. A woman wielding huge red scissors ran around pretending to cut off johnson’s. A team of guys showed up wearing tighty whities with the words “The Whites” written across the back. A woman wore a fake toe on her head. There was an entire army of bombastic Walters, John Goodman’s volcanic character, yelling out “Over! The! Line!” in chaotic intervals. Actual white Russians stood around drinking white Russians.

Over the last three weeks, I’d painstakingly prepared for Lebowski Fest. To the shirring of my wife, I went dude-first into my costume. Of all the wacky characters in the famous movie, I decided to attend Lebowski Fest as a character that never physically appears in the movie. I was to dress as the voice of a character who speaks on The Dude’s answering machine. This character’s name is Mel Zelknicker and this is his one line of dialogue:

            Mr. Lebowski. This is Mel Zelknicker of the Southern California Bowling League. I just got an informal report than a member of your team, a Walter Sobchak, drew a firearm during league play. If this is true, it contravenes a number of the league’s by laws, and also articles 27 of the leagues…(beep message ends).

In my interpretation of this man’s voice, I envisioned a mustache. So I grew a full blown mustache. During my three week Duder preseason before Lebowski Fest, I wore this raggedy ass facial hair to my son’s first day of kindergarten, a gorgeous wedding, and to my first game as a Minneapolis Park Board youth soccer coach where I meet scores of parents and fellow coaches.  Next, I began a process of styling my unruly curly hair into a Donald Trump-ish comb over. On a daily basis, I got into Mel Zelknicker mode by grabbing at my crotch, talking in a blustery voice, and wearing white tube socks with dress shoes. On the night of the event, I wore a white short-sleeve dress shirt with a tie that had the word “Bullshit” secretly embroidered into the face. I looked like an asshole of the highest degree.

At Lebowski Fest, after several hours of trivia and what have you, I found myself standing next to Scott and Will, the “Founding Dudes” of the event.

“Who are you dressed as?” Asked Scott.

“I’m Mel Zelknicker,” I said. I made my face look as fat and uncomfortable as possible like I was pushing out a gigantic fart.

“Oh, my god.  I don’t think we’ve ever seen a Mel Zelknicker at Lebowski Fest,” said Will. “You are the guy that leaves a message on The Dude’s machine?”

“Yes,” I said. I tugged at my crotch for good measure.

“That’s his name? Mel Zelknicker?” Will asked.

“Yep.” My character was so deep I had actually stumped the founders of the nationwide event and the authors of the book “I’m A Lebowski. You’re A Lebowski”.

“Wow. You are going to be in the finals of the costume competition.”

“I grew a mustache. My tie says Bullshit. I’m wearing white tube socks in dress shoes,” I reiterated. “I look like a Hardees Manager.”  

“The voice of a man on an answering machine. Very cerebral. Strong…strong costume,” Scott said.

An hour later, I found myself on stage in front of a hundred people during the costume competition. Unfortunately, I came in fourth place. I lost to a couple dressed as Credence cassette tapes, Maude’s friend with the cleft asshole, and a couple dressed as Bunny Knutson’s parents.

But, in the end, the Dude abides. Life is nothing but strikes and gutters, ups and downs. I will keep on takin’er easy for all the sinners, and looking for that one rug that really ties the room together.