Wednesday, August 31, 2005

The Color Purple

I saw a beautiful sight today while going to my local green market to get oranges for juice.

In a field of wild flowers next to the market were three women of color in full authentic african dress. Their wraps were being whipped around by the wind. What a glorious sight.

It was that moment at the end of The Color Purple when Nettie comes home.

I needed to see something that beautiful today.


Sunday, August 21, 2005


Here's what Mary Ann had to say about getting her Saturday Night Fever replacement.

Been talking with Uncle Bob all week since he is according to your definitation the expert on blah, blah (meaning nothing). For my week has been nothing. No SNF and no new k/b. It's always the darkest before dawn and today as been very dark. /the weather i dark and my mood is dark. Then late this evening, my most despised neighbor,such a phony I DESPISE HER WITH APASSION showed up with a package addressed to me which she had opened. Don't know how long she had it and didn't care---she got the bums rush right out the door WHOOSH. I don't think she knew what hit her and I don't think she will ever darken my door again. Sonow I am in Heaven. I have my SNF and life IS A BOWL OF CHERRIES. My ailing foot and I had the grandest walk this evening---we never missed a beat and the new recording never missed a note. Trust me, I would know if it missed a note. What a grand gift for an 80 year old ex-disco queen. How apprapo. It is amazing, don't you think, how important such a small thing can be so important in my life. I really don't understand it. I remember years ago, like back in the 60's I used to drive Virginia crazy. Every night when I got home from work, I put on "West Side Story" the words were so important to a newly born lesbian who was revelling in a new world. She brought home countless albums to no avail. Another story for another day. Thank you for caring and continually enriching my life. xoxoxo mah

Friday, August 19, 2005

Do You "Rude"

If you don't "rude", you should.

The "rude" is good for what ails.

And the "rude" is funny too.


Thursday, August 18, 2005

818 or What The Butler Heard

The number 818 is lucky for me, always has been, today 8/18/05, is no exception.

In this mornings post I recieved my new NOMAD JUKEBOX ZEN Xtra.


That's right pumpkins, LOADED!!! with over five thousand tunes, THANKS!!

It is so comforting to have a butler one can trust.

It is also comforting to have a friendship of thirty plus years that's so much fun, still spontaneous, full of suprises, and great laughs.
Side splitting doubled over tears running down you face can't get your breath, laughs.

Now please don't hate me because the butler is my friend and also please don't hate me just because I'm pretty.


Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Keep America Beautiful

Have you seen this?

Thanks for the tip Jenny.


Thursday, August 11, 2005

When I Knew

I grew up in rural Missouri, aka, Misery.
When I was 11 I was compelled to take confirmation class. This was so I could be baptized, take communion and join the church.
I didn't really want to. It meant for two months my Saturday mornings would be spent in the church basement listening to Rev. Patterson lecture the four of us about creation, ten commandments, sin, truth, lying, redemption, virgin birth, "and the third day he arose from the dead and ascended", blah blah blah. I was only 11 but I knew this was a load of crap, arose from the dead, give me a break.

I wanted to spend my Saturdays playing with Herb in the woods behind his house, and yes I do mean, playing with Herb.

The Rev. was 85 and suffered a medium case of palsy. During the 8th week he was telling us about the turning of water into wine while holding a china teacup on a saucer that was shaking and rattling really loud.
He told us we would be taking communion which would signify the blood of Christ, (grape juice) and eating the wafer, (white Wonder bread cut into 1/2 inch cubes, crust removed) which would signify the body of Christ.
The Rev. wound up the eighth and last class by telling us... if we took these lessons to our hearts we would find Jesus* and find our way into heaven. If we didn't take these lessons into our hearts, we would find our way into hell.

Right there, right then, was WHEN I KNEW.
Hell was right here on earth and I was living in it. I knew we can make our own heaven or hell. I don't know how or why I knew that at 11, but I knew. That rattling tea cup had been like a bell going off in my head.
I knew I had to go through the motions, get baptized, join church, go to church while I lived at home, but the moment I was on my own and my own boss, I would find my own truth about this stuff.

BTW, I was on my own at 16 years, 7 months, but who's counting.

Still, at 11, I was scared and confused by all the new details of this information.
We went to church as a family. We sat in our pew, (third from front, left side), sang the hymns, bowed our heads during prayers. The rest of the time, like during the sermon, I counted the ceiling tiles, (369) the number of colors on the stain glass windows, (44) how many times the Rev. coughed and touched his mouth with his pocket handkerchief, (lost count).

I was walking home from the last class thinking tomorrow morning I will kneel at the alter rail while water is dripped on my head. After I am baptized, I will drink the blood and eat the body and... I am a sinner, I'm bad and I want to be good. I want to tell the truth. I want to be redeemed by telling the truth.

When I get home I'm going to tell my mom that I'm a queer and I like to kiss boys, I like to touch boys, I like to see them naked. I'll tell her that I know my older brothers like girls and talk about doing things with girls, but I like boys. I don't know why I like boys, I just like boys and not girls and I don't want to be a girl or anything, I just like boys.
I rehearsed my "piece" several times and when I got home I asked my mom to sit down in my dad's chair, I sat on the foot stool. I said I have something to tell you now that my last confirmation class is over.
Mom, I'm a queer, you know like a sissy. I like to kiss boys. I like to touch boys "in their pants", (my exact words), I like to see them naked, and so on...........
Without missing a beat or batting an eye my mom said,
Well when Jesus was 12 he went into the temple and threw out the money changers and became a man. When you are 12 you will become a man too. Go get your sister out of her high chair and take her out in the yard.

* As the years went by and people asked me if I had found Jesus, I replied...
I didn't know he was lost.


Saturday, August 06, 2005


This is an e-mail I recieved from my 80 year old nearly blind friend Mary Ann. Her life long dream came true 4 years ago when she moved to Ptown.
The Ptown angels, of which there are many, have rallied around my friend. Senior Services in Massachusetts have given her a sense of peace she hasn't felt since her Macular Degeneration started. They help her in ways none of us who are sighted can imagine. She told me the single most wonderful thing about the SS, is the pedicures.
She has a large screen TV that magnifies type so she can type and read and be connected to the world. She still does beautiful pastel drawings. While she still could see, she made glorious weavings. She taught me how to slip cover a sofa. I only ever did one, YIKES, never again.
In this mail Virgina/Va is her girlfriend of many many years who died about 6 years ago. K/B refers to her keyboard which we hope is now fixed.
I've already explained her Amazon info is incorrect.

Now that you are a working class Mom and must rush home to feed bathe and help the little ones with their homework, and clean up, you can't have much time for checking out what's happening in the big world. I'm so delighted to still be here on earth and finally find out the truth of important events. .........we now know who deep throat is and As I suspected from the beginning, Marilyn Monroe didn't commit suicide. CNN news just reported that her psychiatrist (sp) destroyed all his material about her but someone close to him took notes (I didn't catch the name) AND Joan Crawford had a one-night stand withMarilyn on the night of her demise. Is truth stranger than fiction, I ask you. I am waiting to find out the Kennedy involvement. Virginia was so enamored of Jackie and her beauty and social standing and I thought she looked like the French frog she was. I softened when I saw her composure and suffering on JFK's assinaion. During the ensuing period, I saw a front-page picture of her and Bobby going somewhere and the caption was all about how Bobby had taken over the "manly" functions of JFK's family. Now this was just a picture of two people going somewhere and I exclaimed"they are lovers." No reason--just gut feelings. Virginia was greatly miffed that I should say such a thing about her exaulted princess. Well, years later the truth came out and I couldn't believe that my instincts were once againso right on. I don't think VA was still alive, thus thwarting my great passion to trash her beloved. So now I'm finally gloating nd waiting for the rest of this story. Re the Sat Night Fever casset, Amazon wants you to join their club for $79 a year. I found another source at Wal-Mart for I think, under $l5 and ordered it, I should have gotten it this week and my new k/b too. I'm not holding my breadth. I'm still walzing to some ditzy CD and correcting my typing so you can read it. And sometimes, I can't even get it to connect me to the ISP. No matter, I finally have a mattress my back loves so alls well and life is just a bowl of cherries. Last week, I bought a plastic bag of the best tasting chrries and discovered when I got home they cost me over $15 bucks so I kid you not, life is indeed as good as a bowl of cherries. xoxoxo mah