This morning I had savory grits with lots of butter and cracked pepper. Yum! We have talked grits before; but what can I say~ I'm a true Southerner and I love my grits! On rare occasions I am lucky enough to get my grits with gravy. Gawd what a posh breakfast. To me gravy is like icing. Cake is sweet and good all by itself but it sure tastes a helluva lot better when icing is added. The same with biscuits or grits.......they are both good and buttery but when you get to top it off with gravy....wellllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll it is so good words escape me. When it comes to dealing with people in real life I am more apt to chose grits over gravy any day. Coming from the south I do know how to pour on the gravy myself; however I tend to like those who are straight shooters. Every once in a while you need someone to sugar coat the truth; but over all the nitty girtty is the better form.
An acquaintance of mine caught me in a conversation recently and secretly I was just rolling my eyes. The conversation may have covered different ground but down deep it boiled down to the same thing: self. This person puts a lot of gravy on everything. This person is not "bad," but ironically as loudly as this person touts being self aware and honest with themselves the grit of the matter is this person is just selfish. Every subject tracks back to this person. If by chance I was actually able to start a conversation about anything inevitably the subject will somehow get twisted back to this person. This person's gravy bowl definitely floweth over.
People like politicians rely on their gravy (a.k.a. spin) to dance around a subject, cover up a scandal, and even boost their ratings. Ordinary Joe's like their gravy as well. I admit it is much easier to like what you hear when people tell you what you like to hear; but this does not necessarily get you anywhere near any sort of truth. Much like a biscuit sopping up gravy I think Washington D.C. and society in general like their truth and fragile egos saturated in gravy and sugar coat that if you can please! Believe me, I love my grits and gravy but I know my waist line can't have gravy all the time!
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Ya Got Know When to Hold 'Em, Know When to Fold 'Em (Life Lessons From Country Music?)
I admit I watched Oprah this past Friday. (When did we start to feel like we have to sound apologetic when watching Oprah?) However, my lifelong guardian angel, friend & favorite down home Diva Dolly Parton was the guest and I would sit my ass down in front of the TV with a tornado directly outside my front door if Dolly was on. Near the end of the show Oprah "surprised," the audience by bringing Dolly's longtime friend and sometime duet partner, Kenny Rogers out to sing Kenny & Dolly's big duet hit, Islands in the Stream. Dolly had to do a lot of fancy vocal gymnastics to cover for Kenny's aging vocal chords. To spite Kenny's obvious struggles vocally their on stage chemistry was undeniable and was shining brighter than ever. You can tell they just love playing in the same sandbox together! After some sit down and chat time following the "surprise," duet, Oprah asked Kenny to close the show with his biggest hit, The Gambler with Dolly and Oprah doing backup. Thankfully Dolly's vocal gymnastics were able to completely cover up Oprah's singing, if in fact she was singing. Unfortunately not even Dolly could cover up Oprah's Whitney Houston like attempt at trying to dance/move to the music. I feel so uncomfortable when Oprah feels the need to even sway to the music let alone (clearing throat)....ummmmmm........dance.
Kenny begin to sing and his aged growly vocals actually added a good ole Hollywood Old West feel that gave the hit, The Gambler, another layer, a spicier note. Although I know every word of this old hit by heart it seemed for the first time I really heard it. Maybe it was the influence of listening to Oprah for an hour; but I thought, my lord above The Gambler sure does have a lot to say about life. If we can acknowledge that life is ultimately a gamble then like the Gambler we start to know there are times we stay and sweat it out then there are times we know we have to walk away. In the best case scenario we can only hope to break even in this life.
I will admit that I am not a "New Country," fan. So my love of Country Music comes from what I consider the classics like: Dolly Parton (of course!), Hank Williams (Sr.), Loretta Lynn, Johnny Cash, Merle Haggard, Tammy Wynette, Kitty Wells, Patsy Cline, George Jones, Barbara Mandrell, Kenny Rogers, Willie Nelson, Jim Reeves, and Marty Robbins. To me, what is considered "new country, " is not unlikable, but just not dynamic or necessarily very creative. All the new ladies of country sound the same and it seems all the men are just singing about big butts and happy hour. The songs of new country don't tell a story, the vocals all run together. When Dolly or Patsy comes on the radio you know who it is immediately within the first note. The same with George or Willie. Their voices were distinct and their songs all told stories, words you can remember.
There are few exceptions to my disdain for "new country." First of all I do think that Martina McBride and Allison Krause who are not really "new country," have, however come along within the last twenty years which doesn't really qualify them for "classic," or "legend," status yet, however they do echo some of the same amazing qualities and distinct voices that will last and emerge as classics and legends in years to come. I don't necessarily like Taylor Swifts music because I'm older and so the teenage voice in which she writes her music is a bit too immature for me; but she is poised to last a long time because she does possess one of those distinct voices and she does have talent in writing lyrics. Brad Paisley stands out as a distinct voice and clever lyrical guy. Beyond that, unfortunately, the new country has the same problem as pop music has right now in which it all tends to blend and fade into itself because after a while they all start to sound the same and say the same things.
When Carrie Underwood pleads for Jesus to take the wheel, I don't feel much and I feel like even the good Lord above sighs a heavy sigh and rolls his eyes. When Dolly talks of Jesus and Gravity I hear her struggle between ego and humble confession to basic human weakness. When Loretta warns : "women like you are a dime a dozen you can buy 'em anywhere for you to get to him I'd have to move over but I'm gonna stand right here it'll be over my dead body so get out while you can, 'cause you ain't woman enough to take my man," let me tell you I think even forty something years later cheating husbands and bleach bottled husband stealing sluts all cringe and look for the nearest cellar to hide in. There are truths and dare I say life lessons to be gleaned from a classic country song. Words mean something in any good song and a good song becomes a legendary hit when that those words speak to someone's heart or to a time, place, an era. And when you continue to learn something from a seemingly simple song like Kenny's Gambler of Dolly's Coat of Many Colors it becomes more than just a legend to the individual that is touched, moved, inspired, or all three. I can promise I didn't learn anything from Trace Atkin's "Bedunky Dunk," and the only movement it caused within me was of nausea inducing proportions; but thanks to Kenny's Gambler I can know when to walk away or run when a bad song comes on.
Kenny begin to sing and his aged growly vocals actually added a good ole Hollywood Old West feel that gave the hit, The Gambler, another layer, a spicier note. Although I know every word of this old hit by heart it seemed for the first time I really heard it. Maybe it was the influence of listening to Oprah for an hour; but I thought, my lord above The Gambler sure does have a lot to say about life. If we can acknowledge that life is ultimately a gamble then like the Gambler we start to know there are times we stay and sweat it out then there are times we know we have to walk away. In the best case scenario we can only hope to break even in this life.
I will admit that I am not a "New Country," fan. So my love of Country Music comes from what I consider the classics like: Dolly Parton (of course!), Hank Williams (Sr.), Loretta Lynn, Johnny Cash, Merle Haggard, Tammy Wynette, Kitty Wells, Patsy Cline, George Jones, Barbara Mandrell, Kenny Rogers, Willie Nelson, Jim Reeves, and Marty Robbins. To me, what is considered "new country, " is not unlikable, but just not dynamic or necessarily very creative. All the new ladies of country sound the same and it seems all the men are just singing about big butts and happy hour. The songs of new country don't tell a story, the vocals all run together. When Dolly or Patsy comes on the radio you know who it is immediately within the first note. The same with George or Willie. Their voices were distinct and their songs all told stories, words you can remember.
There are few exceptions to my disdain for "new country." First of all I do think that Martina McBride and Allison Krause who are not really "new country," have, however come along within the last twenty years which doesn't really qualify them for "classic," or "legend," status yet, however they do echo some of the same amazing qualities and distinct voices that will last and emerge as classics and legends in years to come. I don't necessarily like Taylor Swifts music because I'm older and so the teenage voice in which she writes her music is a bit too immature for me; but she is poised to last a long time because she does possess one of those distinct voices and she does have talent in writing lyrics. Brad Paisley stands out as a distinct voice and clever lyrical guy. Beyond that, unfortunately, the new country has the same problem as pop music has right now in which it all tends to blend and fade into itself because after a while they all start to sound the same and say the same things.
When Carrie Underwood pleads for Jesus to take the wheel, I don't feel much and I feel like even the good Lord above sighs a heavy sigh and rolls his eyes. When Dolly talks of Jesus and Gravity I hear her struggle between ego and humble confession to basic human weakness. When Loretta warns : "women like you are a dime a dozen you can buy 'em anywhere for you to get to him I'd have to move over but I'm gonna stand right here it'll be over my dead body so get out while you can, 'cause you ain't woman enough to take my man," let me tell you I think even forty something years later cheating husbands and bleach bottled husband stealing sluts all cringe and look for the nearest cellar to hide in. There are truths and dare I say life lessons to be gleaned from a classic country song. Words mean something in any good song and a good song becomes a legendary hit when that those words speak to someone's heart or to a time, place, an era. And when you continue to learn something from a seemingly simple song like Kenny's Gambler of Dolly's Coat of Many Colors it becomes more than just a legend to the individual that is touched, moved, inspired, or all three. I can promise I didn't learn anything from Trace Atkin's "Bedunky Dunk," and the only movement it caused within me was of nausea inducing proportions; but thanks to Kenny's Gambler I can know when to walk away or run when a bad song comes on.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
My Brain Hurts (Thanks Alot Jeneane Garofalo!)
Last night I attended the live taping of Jeneane Garofalo's new comedy DVD at the historic Moore Theater in Seattle's Belltown district. Having not really followed Jeaneane's career that closely, I kind of looked at the evening as a great time to hang with some good friends I had not seen in a while. I did not expect to have my insides turned inside out from laughter and my brain feeling like it was pulsing out of my head. I'm just saying Jeaneane rocked the comedy mic last night!
Beyond Jeaneane rocking I also found myself getting inside her head a bit. I got it! I GOT IT! It is so weird to sit and have a moment of recognition of yourself in someone else and not really be able to forge together an idea of how to express that moment. I am still reeling. The only way to explain it is that for the first time I saw someone on stage try to express how their brain works when they are very self aware that it doesn't necessarily think along the same humanoid lines as yours do. Her comedy and slant on life in general does not color within any box, it spurts outside the box and into another dimension. I saw someone on stage being able to "not be able," to express themselves and do it in a humorous way. That is a whole other layer. To bring comedy out of your own frustrated and tired brain and lay it out there raw with the full disclaimer to yourself that you know the laughter is not necessarily coming out of a place of getting what you're saying but more in how you are physically saying it.
The more I try to describe my out of body comedy experience last night the more my brain hurts. Thanks alot Jeaneane!
PS: Jeaneane, ya know how you think that Natalie Portman has never shit, that she was too good to defecate, well I have thought that about Dolly Parton for years. I can never ever believe that woman even leaks a poot let alone drops a loaf, Dolly and Natalie are just too pristine for that kind of humanoid waste action! (If ya get the DVD you'll get that inside post script!) ;-)
Beyond Jeaneane rocking I also found myself getting inside her head a bit. I got it! I GOT IT! It is so weird to sit and have a moment of recognition of yourself in someone else and not really be able to forge together an idea of how to express that moment. I am still reeling. The only way to explain it is that for the first time I saw someone on stage try to express how their brain works when they are very self aware that it doesn't necessarily think along the same humanoid lines as yours do. Her comedy and slant on life in general does not color within any box, it spurts outside the box and into another dimension. I saw someone on stage being able to "not be able," to express themselves and do it in a humorous way. That is a whole other layer. To bring comedy out of your own frustrated and tired brain and lay it out there raw with the full disclaimer to yourself that you know the laughter is not necessarily coming out of a place of getting what you're saying but more in how you are physically saying it.
The more I try to describe my out of body comedy experience last night the more my brain hurts. Thanks alot Jeaneane!
PS: Jeaneane, ya know how you think that Natalie Portman has never shit, that she was too good to defecate, well I have thought that about Dolly Parton for years. I can never ever believe that woman even leaks a poot let alone drops a loaf, Dolly and Natalie are just too pristine for that kind of humanoid waste action! (If ya get the DVD you'll get that inside post script!) ;-)
The Mother Load (Remembering Erma Bombeck)
On this Mother's day I could not help but think of Erma Bombeck and her prolific humorous columns and books on the everyday pitfalls and joys of being a mom. When I look back on my childhood I realize my own poor mother probably did not know what she had given birth to. I admit I was an odd child. By age five I had declared my undying love for Dolly Parton and had memorized a good portion of the lyrics to her biggest hits. In kindergarten I played Wonder Woman, running around, spinning from Diana Prince into Wonder Woman, playing a pretty mean air magic lasso and putting foil on my wrists to deflect bullets. I can't imagine why the other boys wanted to beat me up. By third grade I was hopelessly addicted to Judy Blume books and Nancy Drew mystery novels. I admit I didn't quite understand everything I was learning while reading Judy Blume's classic "Are You There God, It's Me Margaret," but I was hooked! By fifth grade I had discovered Erma Bombeck. I first heard her on Good Morning America one morning when I had stayed home sick from school. She made me laugh and I was instantly attached to her. I found out she wrote a column and drove my mom nuts trying to track down a news paper that might carry her column, at the time our local paper only carried columns by Ann Landers and yes, Billy Graham.
Realizing my mom could not track down a newspaper with Erma's column every week made me put on my thinking cap for a solution to feed my need for more Erma in my young budding literary mind and so I headed out to the library and found her articles that way. It was while I was walking out of the library one day that my eye caught the name "Erma," on a book's spine on a stack return cart as I neared the exit. I spun around and to my delirious surprise it was an Erma Bombeck. It was called, "Aunt Erma's Cope Book," and I quickly checked it out. My love for Erma's brand of home spun humor hooked me. I guess when you are running around pretending to be Wonder Woman during PE and reading Judy Blume, Nancy Drew, and Erma Bombeck it is pretty hard to fit in, so I never tried. If the price of being able to read these delicious books was getting picked on, I could survive. Besides, I always had Erma to cheer me up.
As much as Erma pointed out the less than joyous rigors of being a mother, I felt like she helped bring about insight into a mother's life all the while with her rye brand of humor. I got it and I think it helped me understand a little bit of what my own mother might be going thru.
During my mother's day call to my mom today we took little trips down memory lane remembering the absurd as well as the sweet moments it reinforced Erma Bombeck's important place not only as a legendary humorist but also her own gift to mothers for years to come. A gift of being able to see someone else's shared experiences in child rearing and marriage and the gift of being able to laugh at themselves. A gift of celebrating the importance of motherhood as well as deflating some of the seriousness of the job.
Re-reading some of Erma's writing today I am so glad I was that weird little boy in my elementary school. I feel like I kind of won the mother load: a good mom and a healthy respect in my early introduction to the one and only Ms. Erma Bombeck. Happy Mother's day Mom, and Happy Mother's day Erma, I thank you both!
Realizing my mom could not track down a newspaper with Erma's column every week made me put on my thinking cap for a solution to feed my need for more Erma in my young budding literary mind and so I headed out to the library and found her articles that way. It was while I was walking out of the library one day that my eye caught the name "Erma," on a book's spine on a stack return cart as I neared the exit. I spun around and to my delirious surprise it was an Erma Bombeck. It was called, "Aunt Erma's Cope Book," and I quickly checked it out. My love for Erma's brand of home spun humor hooked me. I guess when you are running around pretending to be Wonder Woman during PE and reading Judy Blume, Nancy Drew, and Erma Bombeck it is pretty hard to fit in, so I never tried. If the price of being able to read these delicious books was getting picked on, I could survive. Besides, I always had Erma to cheer me up.
As much as Erma pointed out the less than joyous rigors of being a mother, I felt like she helped bring about insight into a mother's life all the while with her rye brand of humor. I got it and I think it helped me understand a little bit of what my own mother might be going thru.
During my mother's day call to my mom today we took little trips down memory lane remembering the absurd as well as the sweet moments it reinforced Erma Bombeck's important place not only as a legendary humorist but also her own gift to mothers for years to come. A gift of being able to see someone else's shared experiences in child rearing and marriage and the gift of being able to laugh at themselves. A gift of celebrating the importance of motherhood as well as deflating some of the seriousness of the job.
Re-reading some of Erma's writing today I am so glad I was that weird little boy in my elementary school. I feel like I kind of won the mother load: a good mom and a healthy respect in my early introduction to the one and only Ms. Erma Bombeck. Happy Mother's day Mom, and Happy Mother's day Erma, I thank you both!
Daytime Divas are a Little Bit Country and Lil bit Rock & Roll
I fell in love with One Life to Live almost twenty years ago! I was an infant at the time but I already had a very developed brain and comprehend plot twists and character developments! (Okay I am old bitches)! I'm sure my parents would say I was a smart ass but I think they would stop short of saying I was genius baby.
I'm just saying that sure One Life to Live does follow suit with stereotypical daytime soap story formulas; however OLTL has always attracted and hired great actors and their story lines did step up to a more sophisticated level than the average daytime soap.
Plus, OLTL has Vicki and Dorian. They are the Crystal and Alexis of daytime TV! How could a fabulous Diva like myself not get addicted! Vicki (played by Erika Slezak) has multiple personalities and multiple marriages to spite her "saintly," angelic outer shell. She may be the "Crystal," of daytime but honey her crystal sure ain't sparkling clear! Dorian (played by Robin Strasser) gives Alexis a whole new depth of evil and bitchery! What I love about both characters is the fact that they are more than just one note characters. It would be easy for each to settle for playing their roles to the hilt; but both actresses are tremendous in their respective roles and they each surprise me even after all these years. Oh, and did I mention Dorian's style and wardrobe are over the top pure smashingly fabulous!
Out of the Dorian Lord family tree came Blair Cramer, Dorian's scheming bad girl niece. Blair is played by Kassie DePaiva. It would be easy for Blair to play the bad girl; but once again, Kassie being a very talented performer (she has a singing career as well), has given her character Blair a lot more layers. It is hard to really just peg Blair as a scheming little slut. In Blair's case her words speak louder than her actions. Kassie has cleverly "matured," Blair in a very subtle way. Her actions are still very much "Blair Cramer;" but every once in a while she see Blair take a step back and think about her demons and in turn her schemes. Over the years the audience has seen Blair slowly transform.
Needless to say I've become a big fan of Ms. Depaiva's, Blair. Outside of her busy OLTL schedule Kassie designs and makes hats that she sells for charity, records and sells her own CD's, & over the last few years formed and performs in a trio called The Daytime Diva's. Recently the Daytime Divas announced a benefit concert for the flood victims in Nashville, Tennessee. In addition to Kassie Daytime Divas are comprised of fellow daytime soap actresses Kathy Brier (Marcy McBain from OLTL) & Bobbie Eakes (Crystal from All My Children. They all have their niche that their voices seem to fit; but if you have ever seen them live, you quickly realize that they sing and interpret music as multi layered as they do their respective characters they cleverly play on TV. These Divas rock and if you are in the Nashville area on June 13th you can join them for their Breakfast show at BB King's Nashville for a concert, continental breakfast and a meet and greet afterwards. Although these Divas rock I have no doubt they will be able to be a little country in honor of Nashville's legendary title of the home of country music.
I'm just saying that sure One Life to Live does follow suit with stereotypical daytime soap story formulas; however OLTL has always attracted and hired great actors and their story lines did step up to a more sophisticated level than the average daytime soap.
Plus, OLTL has Vicki and Dorian. They are the Crystal and Alexis of daytime TV! How could a fabulous Diva like myself not get addicted! Vicki (played by Erika Slezak) has multiple personalities and multiple marriages to spite her "saintly," angelic outer shell. She may be the "Crystal," of daytime but honey her crystal sure ain't sparkling clear! Dorian (played by Robin Strasser) gives Alexis a whole new depth of evil and bitchery! What I love about both characters is the fact that they are more than just one note characters. It would be easy for each to settle for playing their roles to the hilt; but both actresses are tremendous in their respective roles and they each surprise me even after all these years. Oh, and did I mention Dorian's style and wardrobe are over the top pure smashingly fabulous!
Out of the Dorian Lord family tree came Blair Cramer, Dorian's scheming bad girl niece. Blair is played by Kassie DePaiva. It would be easy for Blair to play the bad girl; but once again, Kassie being a very talented performer (she has a singing career as well), has given her character Blair a lot more layers. It is hard to really just peg Blair as a scheming little slut. In Blair's case her words speak louder than her actions. Kassie has cleverly "matured," Blair in a very subtle way. Her actions are still very much "Blair Cramer;" but every once in a while she see Blair take a step back and think about her demons and in turn her schemes. Over the years the audience has seen Blair slowly transform.
Needless to say I've become a big fan of Ms. Depaiva's, Blair. Outside of her busy OLTL schedule Kassie designs and makes hats that she sells for charity, records and sells her own CD's, & over the last few years formed and performs in a trio called The Daytime Diva's. Recently the Daytime Divas announced a benefit concert for the flood victims in Nashville, Tennessee. In addition to Kassie Daytime Divas are comprised of fellow daytime soap actresses Kathy Brier (Marcy McBain from OLTL) & Bobbie Eakes (Crystal from All My Children. They all have their niche that their voices seem to fit; but if you have ever seen them live, you quickly realize that they sing and interpret music as multi layered as they do their respective characters they cleverly play on TV. These Divas rock and if you are in the Nashville area on June 13th you can join them for their Breakfast show at BB King's Nashville for a concert, continental breakfast and a meet and greet afterwards. Although these Divas rock I have no doubt they will be able to be a little country in honor of Nashville's legendary title of the home of country music.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Divas of Daytime TV Breakfast, Concert, and Meet & Greet
This entry is not a blog as much as it is a shout out! Kassie DePaiva (aka Blair Cramer from One Life to Live) is heading up this spectacular event with Bobbie Eakes (Crystal from All My Children) & Kathy Brier (Marcy from OLTL). If you are in the Nashville Area, please get a ticket, the money goes to help the flood victims in that area. If not, please blog, post, and spread the word about this important event.
Let's not forget what Nashville as given us: Minnie Pearl, June Carter, Johnny Cash, Tammy Wynette, Loretta Lynn, Barbara Mandrell, and best of all........DOLLY PARTON........... I know all the Country stars are pitching in as their time allows........ but hopefully you will get the word out about Kassie's project.
The Event:
Let's not forget what Nashville as given us: Minnie Pearl, June Carter, Johnny Cash, Tammy Wynette, Loretta Lynn, Barbara Mandrell, and best of all........DOLLY PARTON........... I know all the Country stars are pitching in as their time allows........ but hopefully you will get the word out about Kassie's project.
The Event:
Divas of Daytime TV Breakfast, Concert, and Meet & Greet
Time: 8 AM till 10 AM
Date: June 12, 2010
Venue: BB King's Nashvillehttp://divasofdaytimetv.com/divabreakfast2.html
Tix Cost: $65
What you get: Diva's Concert, Continental Breakfast & Meet & Greet with the Daytime Diva Stars themselves.
Possible other benefits: rumor has it that other daytime stars will be in attendance as well...........
CHECK IT OUT!!!!
If anyone knows Oprah, tell her too! ;-)
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
More Grits Please (Hold the Small Talk)
I don’t think I have to explain the power that the Evangelical Christian movement still holds and wields over my Southern home town and the Bible belt in general. I hope I also don’t have to explain what “grits,” are either. Although I have had to explain more times than I like to admit what grits are to several people during my West Coast tenure.
Grits in general are small milled grains of corn that when added to hot water becomes a type of hot cereal (think cream of wheat). In the South it is generally eaten as a breakfast side and made in a savory fashion with pepper and lots of butter. In the deeper South it is also used with certain dinner dishes like Shrimp ‘n’ Grits. I highly recommend and refer you to Paula Deen’s recipe for Shrimp ‘n’ Grits, or if you are in the Savannah (GA) area, suggest you visit her brother’s restaurant, Uncle Bubba’s for a great big serving of it.
The word “grits,” has also become a slang word (i.e. in the South) for strength or conviction. For some reason it also has become a word for your ass! Long before the character Flo (Polly Holliday) off of the popular 1970’s/1980’s sitcom Alice became famous for turning the phrase “Kiss My Grits,” into a hilarious pop phrase meaning “Kiss My Ass,” my grandmother used to say to us that we were “showing our grits,” when we would throw a fit or act up. So, in affect, “showing your grits,” was the nicer less profane way of saying, “showing your ass.”
Lest I digress, when the terrorist struck the NYC World Trade Center towers and the Pentagon on that nightmarish day in 2001 it was not only a horrible and evil act of cowardice upon thousands and our Nation in general but it somehow become some call to order for the Evangelical Right wing faction. I remember listening to people back home in the South in December 2001 openly discussing that if Christians stood up for their beliefs like the radical Muslim faction did then maybe more people would “see the light.” I will stress when I overheard these mumblings and debates going on that I don’t believe were not glorifying nor justifying the terrorist attacks; but somehow in some misguided way were saying that in fact, “well at least the terrorists die for their beliefs.”
I was shocked into a state of surreal disbelief. Over the next few years it became apparent that somehow not only (then) President George W. Bush but also the Evangelicals were going to use this attack as a talking point to rouse and energize the conservative and extreme Right Wing Conservative base and even many middle of the road independents to adopt and push their own agendas.
The terrorist attack and any crime of hate or terrorism is simply an act of cowardice. Whether you are bombing a building or bullying someone it is simply a pathetic act. There is no glory or prize for killing, maiming, scaring, and terrorizing people.
There is an old saying that goes, “Walk the Talk.” To me this is what having grits is all about. If you have a conviction about living a certain way, then live it, you don’t have to jam it down everyone’s throat. There are times to speak up and be heard, like for example when a whole segment of the population is being openly discriminated against. Yet, even then, Martin Luther King, Jr. and Ghandi showed true bravery as they both advocated for peaceful assembly and demonstration.
It seems the evolution of man has not reached the collective mindset that force and might don’t equal true bravery and justice. In the world of food there is sadly instant grits for those who can’t wait for a nice pot of grits to be made on the stove. In the world it seems we still chose instant gratification in large proportion in general. It is much easier I guess to trade bomb for bomb. As for me, I will wait for a nice fresh batch of buttery creamy grits off the stove. When it comes to rushing to the war of words or even the war of fire power, I will take diplomacy and thoughtful conversation, you can hold the small talk.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Soup Bowls (a.k.a. Fake 'Uns)
My friend’s husband hates fake breasts. He calls them soup bowls. He is a self described “boob and leg” man. When his wife faced breast cancer and in time a radical double mastectomy it hit her obviously hard; but for a man who loved his boobs, he never allowed the shadows of disappointment to cross his face. My friend’s wife decided that she would give a prosthetic bra a chance till she further had time to research more fully on getting implants. Her husband was unwavering in his support. Whatever she wanted he was for. In a conversation we had soon after the operation he told me hoped she did not ultimately decide she wanted implants. He said he could live with whatever choice she made, it was her body after all; but he would rather be left with the memory of her real breasts to fantasize about than grabbing a hold of two stiff and cold soup bowls when they made love. Ultimately she chose that she did not need nor want implants and settled and in time even retiring the prosthetic bra.
To say that her husband was also not disappointed about the fact that his wife had lost her beautiful breasts would be a lie; however he was over the moon she had decided not to opt for implants. He was one of those rare individuals who had fallen for the “whole package.” He loved her heart, soul, spirit, and strength as much as he also loved her long gorgeous legs and overall great curves. She was definitely a woman who had a gorgeous smile but also smiled through her eyes. A couple of years after she had died we were hanging out and a mutual friend was seriously motivated on getting our friend back into the dating pool; but at this point I knew his lack of dating was not from lingering grief, as much as he just did not want to play the dating game. He feels you don’t have to look for love or even friends instead he believes like I do that those meant to be in your life will somehow come into our lives. Now our buddy definitely was on the market, whether he chose to be or not, he is a looker and has grown into a hot silver fox. It was astounding how many women and men tried to get in his pants; but as he reported to me he had already had the best in his life sexually and spiritually so he was fine using his right hand for his horn dawg moments. He shared at one point that the last few years of his wife’s life (even without her breasts) and even up until the last few months that they had continued to have a really hot sex life and for him he felt once you’ve had the best then there was no amount of porn or one night stands that was going to do the trick. AMEN brother!
At the time we were living in southern California and it is somewhat true that it is hard to find a woman or man for that matter with real breasts, especially in southern California California
One night we were out and the first part of the evening we hung out at my widowed friend’s favorite straight bar and the latter half we went to my favorite gay piano bar to listen to another good friend do her usual Saturday night gig as San Diego’s favorite chanteuse extraordinaire. As per usual our other friend, after a few cocktails, started pointing out all the “hot babes,” for our friend’s benefit. It was useless to stop him once he got going. Beyond always being on the search for his own Mr. Right, he took it upon himself to also do research for the rest of us. This matchmaker trend continued all night. At some point at the gay bar my straight friend turned to me and quipped that maybe it would be easier if he were gay because at least he would not have to deal with fake tits. I cleared my throat and pointed out four gay men across from us with pec and chest implants also sporting spray tans. He was in disbelief. I explained that indeed in the gay community there were as many “Ken Dolls,” as there were “Barbies,” in the straight world. In my slightly drunken slur (allegedly) I said, “Yep the world sure is full of fake ‘uns!” My Southern accent tends to be more pronounced when the cocktail catches up with me and trips up my tongue. Obviously my friend (a true Californian) got beached on the “uns,” as I tried to explain over his ribbing and laughter that “uns,” was a hillbilly southern version of “ones.” The point was the world, but more specifically American society has become plastic and fake.
This discussion turned into an almost sobering conversation/debate. Once again allegedly “almost sobering,” and allegedly a “conversation,” and only a debate because some alleged drunker queens listening in decided to defend plastic surgery and judging by the botoxed big lipped faces debating us I guess our conversation may have stepped on a few toes or plastic “Ken Doll,” parts.
Anyway I begin to theorize how we as a society will chose everything from astro turf to imitation crab because, I guess, fake is easier? Cheaper? Easier to clean? We can take almost any body part we don’t like and replace it with a fake but theoretically better or perfect part. As the heated debate begin to dwindle into a more slurred jab fest we saw a huge waxed and botoxed hair plugged muscle man literally bulging out of his tank top followed by a bleached, spray tanned, over collagen-d, silicon tittied fake Gucci sunglass wearing gal pal. They both looked equally deflated when they did not get carded at the door. The guys around us gasped like teenage girls watching the star quarterback as the rip off ripped man strutted his way thru the crowd. His bleached hair blinding bleached toothed female companion followed and she respectively got the proverbial approving gay gasp for having a “perfect,” body. The queens turned to us as if these two walking and breathing plastic humanoids were proof positive that their points on the merits of plastic surgery won.
I’m not so sure it won; but it sure proved the point that whether you thought the Ken & Barbie were beautiful or not, everyone could still tell they were no longer made up of their own original body parts. Beauty may be in the eye of the beholders but for me and my friend the proof was in the plastic~ no one could dispute their surgical adjustments and additions, not even the queens. I guess for them it is more important to buy a house that looks like a shiny new mansion on the outside than seeing if it is in decay and falling apart on the inside.
I am not so PC or high and mighty enough to say I would NEVER have surgical cosmetic adjustments, but I’m just saying if my intention is to turn back time (sorry Cher ) and look “natural,” I can’t expect that I would really pull the silicon over anybody’s eyes. Fake looks fake no matter how “artistic,” or good your surgeon is. There may be varying degrees of how artificial the “work,” done may look; but eventually, one day your knock off body part is going to be caught with its “Made in China
My friend and I looked at each other in total amazement that these queens had obviously missed the point. We took one more look at “Ken & Barbie,” as they were comically (or tragically) trying to feel the straw to their cocktails thru their swollen collagen lips as we clicked our cocktail glasses in unison. Chuckling, my friend exclaimed, “soup bowls!,” and I slurred “fake ‘uns.”
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