The completely authorized, by no means exhaustive biography of L'il Big
L'il Big was born in the hills of Banbolkistan, hills which were often
alive with the sound of the ancient art of yodeling.
Grandpa Big had visions of his L'il oompah injecting their stage routine with cartwheels, fire breathing and contortion. Grandma Big hoped L'il would have the spritely mind of a carny, to sell tickets and souvenirs, ensuring a sizeable retirement fund for the family. L'il Big's parents, as parents will, simply hoped for the happiness of their daughter, whatever her part in the show would be.
However, there was disappointment from her family in L'il Big's refusal to even try yodeling; from her first screams to her eventual silence, she seemed not a Big at all. She showed no aptitude for numbers or t-shirt sales and she indicated her fear of circuses at the age of 2, screaming what would be her final words until she turned 18: "The clowns hate me!"
Failing to notice their daughter and granddaughter's clear grasp of the spoken word and her ability to tune in the feelings of others, and failing further to see these qualities as worthwhile and encouragable, the Big family mired itself in misery for 16 years. Touring with L'il Big, whose sulks could be felt from hill to hill and over many a dale, was a challenge beyond any yodel-off that Grandpa Big had ever competed in. The family eventually left her at home for their tours, in the care of nannies and her imaginary friends. Grandpa Big wisely abandoned all hope of making his L'il Oompah into a yodeler or circus performer and on her 18th birthday took her to her favourite ice cream shoppe for a chat.
"L'il oompah," he began, handing her a cone of pistachio, chocolate and lemon, "It has come time for you to decide your path. We have offered you our ideas, as your family, and you have rejected them. You must choose your own way."
L'il Big took a sweeping swipe of her ice cream and smiled, her
lips glistening with delicious flavour.
Grandpa Big was shocked. "What, my oompah, what will you do?" he asked.
"I will be a poet-philosopher, an eccentric, a clown of epic proportions, a model of thought wrapped in the skin of an entertainer, a world for children to inhabit when the larger world of adults is too big. I am L'il Big."
An entertainer? Grandpa Big was confused. He knew of no yearning for entertaining in his oompah. "L'il oompah," he said, "You have never wanted to perform. We have given you chances and a full stage with spotlight. You have always shrinked away."
L'il Big nodded and her tangled hair fell into her ice cream. She licked the strands of hair without hesitation. "Grandpa," she said, "I am more than an entertainer and more than a poet. I am both."
She did thank him for the ice cream and she did walk away and that girl was never seen again by her family who'd loved her so much. She is not one who sings and dances, is not a clown for children or a child for the amusement of adults. Today she is a wanderer, an intuitive with a great love of making people feel bigger than they are or might otherwise.
She likes ice cream, pathos, frosted eyeshadow, eavesdropping, photographs, notebooks and large furry things like dogs and coats.