Sunday, December 30, 2007

but do you remember

that post, that meme, from a few weeks back where I said that I think in quotes. . . . every time I have looked at that picture this morning, I have heard the line from a Meatloaf song, "I can still see her rising up from the backseat just like an angel rising up from a tomb."


like Daniel Craig

Myspace is such an oddity to me. I get friend requests from Jasmine, Kama, even Nevaeh (read that backwords), and they crack me up. But one of the funnest things is to get a friend request from someone I haven't seen or talked to in years, or months or whatever. . . then I lurk around on their page, looking at all their friends, and following all the branches around to see who I see, who I knew or know. . . and that led me to this guy. His myspace was a friend of a friend, but many years ago, he and I were friends. Or at least very good pals. He was "a good guy" and fun and friendly, and his sister was best friends with one of my best friends. Back in those high school and college days, I saw him regularly in the small town way, here there and yonder. But I haven't though of him in years. He's married to the last gal i knew of, so it's lasted a long time, and has a beautiful daughter. I spent as much time on his myspace this morning as I did on the friend who originally messaged me.

This picture of him reminds me of Daniel Craig. Yes, yes, I know it's all so very gay to be looking at beach photo's of a former friend of mine, and if it's possible to be rude, then it may be rude to post one on my blog. It's not like he'll ever see it, or I've said anything defamatory (is that how it's spelled?) But this picture just reminded me a whole lot of the publicity photo from the James Bond movie of Daniel Craig walking up on the beach.

Saturday, December 29, 2007

Little Black Dress

I try to be butch, I really do. But sometimes. . . . . sometimes I just want to be Patrick Swayze in Too Wong Foo, sometimes I just want to do drag, sometimes I want to be invited to a party and be able to say "I'll wear my little black dress" and mean it.

Some years ago, I worked for a lady named Beverly. Quite pretty and blonde and successfully pulled off an affair with a man from the corporate office that, rumor had it, garnered her quite the windfall when it was all said and done. Before all this and all that, we both went to a wedding in a private home. Arriving early, a member of the family who had come on short notice said she just didn't have the appropriate outfit to wear. Beverly went to her car, popped the trunk and pulled out a little black dress. She was my hero.

Thursday, December 27, 2007

another Boston Legal quote

If you ever do anything to hurt Denny or this firm, I will see to it that you are hunted down legally and literally until you are penniles and left to troll airport bars looking for drunken pilots nearing retirement age. - Shirley Schmidt to character played by Joanna Cassiday.


In Fayette County on the edge of Memphis is a town, and in that town is a neighborhood, and in that neighborhood is . . . . a whole lotta Christmas lights. A whole lotta Christmas lights.

On my way past the neighborhood the other night, I noticed, and who could not, all the lights and I turned in. I turned in and drove through the neighborhood. I was amazed, in awe, flabbergasted.

It was as though they had a contest, but forgot to lay down rules - or perhaps had many prizes - the most lights; the most blow molds; the classiest; the tackyest; the most sheer voltage. I want to grow up and live in that neighborhood for at least one month in December.

The picture attached is just not enough to show the sheer display power of this one house, or the neighborhood as a whole. It is absolutely fan-tab-u-lous.

Macy's - Goldsmith's

I had absolutely the best customer service experience on the phone today with Macy's, and I'm going to tell you: A wonderful couple that call me their grandson gave me a gift card in September . . . oh, more than a few years ago. I sort of forgot it, tucked it away and just thought "Next time I go to Macy's . . . " but I just don't go there often. So yesterday when I went with friends, oh the surprise to learn that my card, which was valid for 2 years, had been expired for over a year. Yeah, that means I've had the card over 3 years.

Just me - nobody kept me from the store. Nobody told me not to read the line on the back. I did it all by myself. So this morning I called their toll free number and a very nice guy named Mark asked what he could and I told him that I had a card that had expired and I asked what could I do to unexpire it.

He asked me the numbers on the back of the card, which I read to him. He said the card would be good for 30 days "Do you think 30 days will be . . . " he asked and I said I intended to use it quickly. That was it. No telling me their policy, or practice or anything else. No admonishing me or asking me if I read the card. He just told me it worked. And then he told me the balance, which is exactly the amount my grandparents told me they had put on the card.

Yeah for Macy's.

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

General Blog

My Fella and I (meaning - me) decided we will do our gift exchange on NYE. I knew this past weekend would be full up with his family (and it was) and I really wanted/want our exchange to be "ours." Call me a sentimental ol' fool. So our plan is to exchange on NYE (so it's still in 2007) then go out to a party to which we were invited, before sleeping in and making ourselves a holiday meal on January 1. I don't really care what the meal is, so long as we go through the steps to make it. We've been invited to a Dead Pool Party at 4pm on January 1, which gives us plenty of time to "be us" before we go. He kind of hates all my invitations, but I keep telling him it's no different than me having to spend all my weekends at his house with his family. He can suck it up.

My Fag Hag (she prefers Fag Hag to Fruit Fly, as she is a traditionalist) is in town, and one of our other best friends arrives this afternoon about 1:30. The Hag, also known as "Red" just got her hairuh-did at her other Fag's place, and will be swinging by the airport to pick up the rest of our gang for a fun filled afternoon of shopping that will culminate in a drink fest tonight at our favorite Mexican joint. Thank goodness I live now within walking distance.

BLACK MAN! (sung like Bernice Clifton/Alice Ghostley in Designing Women) is coming to my house. He asked "Can we all ride together?" and like Red said, "There ain't a waif one in our bunch." Both people on the plane, Red, Black Man and myself are all . . . uh, not petite. So it'll be a two car afternoon.

The Beautiful One, whom I mentioned in a post around Thanksgiving, is back in town and I got to see him at lunch on Christmas Eve. I was sansa phone at the time and couldn't sneak a pic of him. I am so hoping he comes with his uncle tonight for a margarita. But his uncle is probably going to spare him all the drama that comes along with us, for fear that any of the str8 females or gay males would inevitably say something flattering-yet-crass-and-rude. But man, (sigh and deep breath) he is gorgeous.

I'm looking forward to the afternoon with old friends. I'm glad I took the day off.

Happy Wednesday to you.

Tuesday, December 25, 2007


Mamaw has a hearing aid. Not that she was wearing it tonight, but she showed it to me. She had been wearing it, until she got a call from Germany and it started making noises or something. So she walked around with it in it's little case showing it to people.

So I'm taking Mamaw home and trying to point out Christmas lights on the way, and she can't hear me. So in response to "Pretty lights" she tells me that

"the LCU or something like that"

"The ACLU?"

"Yes, the ACLU is ruining the country. They want to close down the Boy Scouts."

Hell, Mamaw could be right, what do I know? I'd guess the story has more to do with the ACLU inquiring about the Boy Scouts being funded by taxes or something, but I don't really know. . . . and it's not like Mamaw is going to hear my response anyway. . .

She did hear me say "Why?" and replied, "Because they won't let the weirdos in."
Well that pretty much sums it up. No way to argue with that statement.


When I was born, my parents had moved from Illinois to my hometown, and lived in a rental house on the North end of Cherry Street. For years, the house stood still, then finally lost it's battle to time and a city park. I remember driving by it once, with no recollection of my earliest years there, and someone had painted a mural on the front of it. It was a scene with tall grass and flowers.

I don't know how long we lived there, but I'm pretty certain that it wasn't too long, because I vaguely remember living in the second house, in the same neighborhood as the third. The second one was, as well I believe, a rental, but the third house Daddy bought. I think I can remember walking from the second house up the street to the third house. And I think it was in the third house that we welcomed home my baby brother, 3 years younger than me.

But when Mom & Dad moved from Illinois, it was on the advice of an uncle who had come to town to manage a local car dealership. "They say" back then, it was a big deal to manage a car dealership and my great uncle called his nephew, and said, "Move here. They have an opening for a radio dispatcher with the police and I can get you the job." And that was the beginning of well over 20 years Dad spent with the police department in my hometown.

But well before the 20 years, still in that first or maybe second house, was a family of three.

My Mom told me a Christmas story today, it was very short, she told me in less than two minutes. It was a story about a first Christmas, before the brother. So far removed, it almost seemed like other people, another family. But it wasn't. It was us. I don't think I'm going to blog it. Right now, it seems too private. But I will say that it could make a son remember that he loves his father. It was a perfect Christmas memory for my mom. And I'm very glad she shared it with me.

Sunday, December 23, 2007

Blue Cheese Biscuits

He is an ex, and one, to loosely quote some old country song "I thought was the world, when the world was small." Truly I still believe, the core of him is a good person. It's just unfortunately covered up with a lot of depression and a lot of pharmaceutical drugs trying to help him with his depression. I can recall two really good memories, and about four months worth of me playing "Tammy Wynette standing by my man." Ugh.

But anyway, one of the two recipes I took away from the relationship is something he referred to reverently as "my mother's blue cheese biscuits." Sometimes I almost feel bad "taking" the recipe. But it has become my best recipe to take to a party if I can get there while they are still warm. At one friend's party every year, I just make them at her house. Sometimes I call just before arrival to preheat the oven.

They are blue cheesy, pull apart, yummy good. Takes about 10 minutes to prepare them and then about 11 or 12 to bake 'em.

Noodle recently tried a variation with . . . . I think provolone and mozzarella and a handful of Italian seasonings. She reports they were super yummy.

Red Robin Gourmet Burgers

also known as "with tip, $60 for 2 burgers, 2 things of chicken strips and 4 drinks."

It was clean and the waitress was friendly, and I had the free will to walk out after one look at the menu, realizing it was horribly over priced. But I thought I'd give them a try and see just how gourmet-gourmet-is.

It isn't. The french fries "bottomless basket of steak fries" are standard issue Sysco fries. The burger was good, but really no better than some fast food joints. The chicken strips, affectionatelly called something rediculous like 'cluck and fries', looked and tasted like standard issue Sysco breaded chicken strips.

Really, two tea's, two cokes, 2 burgers and 2 chicken strips and we were well into 50 bucks and still needing to leave a tip. I should have left, but I wanted to try it. My bad.

Friday, December 21, 2007

I've got a treasure. . . .

he said as I handed him a tissue and told him to quit picking his nose. But that's a boy for you, regardless of the age. A second later he said "eewww that's a big ol' nugget."

That would be Noodle's son, Spyder. Tonight I hung out with (babysat) what is collectively called 'the urchins.' It was a very nice night for all of us. They were very well behaved, and we did some things I thought they thought they would enjoy - like our choice for dinner and getting Spyder some batteries for his new toy.

When I said "You know my rules" they both held hands in the parking lot. I do not deviate from that rule, oft telling them "If one of you gets smushed, Mom & Dad will be SO annoyed with me!" When we went in Fazoli's for supper, I told them both to stay in the booth until I got back (they are frequent visitors to the place and very uncomfortable there. I, however, am acutely aware that the other people are strangers to us). And lo, when I returned with our order, they were right where I had left them. They both ate their meals without so much as one single "Eat." When young Sass asked for "dessert or something" I couldn't resist the temptation and offered choices like pickles, liver, etc. and she countered by saying she wanted something that rhymed with "gooky." Subtle, that one.

I decided a carton of ice cream from Kroger would be less expensive for me and better for everyone (as in, we'll get more for our money). We let Sass pick and Spyder had right to veto. We ended up with cookie dough and it was pretty good. So we got to eat ice cream and watch Kim Possible's "Stitch in Time" while Spyder played with a toy set he got tonight as a Christmas present.

No good pictures of the night. But if you know what Spyder looks like, imagine him with that finger up his nose digging for gold. Boys will be boys.

Thursday, December 20, 2007

I've spoken my piece and counted to three.

Netflix has been the greatest thing, and tonight I am watching O Brother Where Art Thou. I'm not sure what I thought it was, but I didn't think it would be near this good. The soundtrack is phenomenal, the humor nicely laid, and some of the guest spots finely woven in, with my favorite being Holly Hunter. I am just in love with her.

I should read Homer, on which this movie is (loosely, I bet) based. There are scenes that I would guess belonged to an ancient seer or prophet, and three sirens. Some of the rest of it, I'm having to guess at what the original writing might entail.

But I have enjoyed this movie.

Monday, December 17, 2007


I passed one on the road today, maybe. But it's hard to tell at a glance. I tried to grab the cell phone and take a picture but the phone was full. It did not look like mine exactly, but it looked like a well cared for one.

1976 Pontiac Ventura, but I did not get keys to it until around 1986. Ours, as handed down to me, was a two door with an odd cream color. It was sold metal, not so much as a Landau top. Chrome bumpers that were metal made when metal was made. The light dimmer was on the floor - a nice piece of metal to push with the left foot. There was a transmission hump in the middle of the car that went under the bench seats, and those bench seats were stitched vinyl that was complimentary to the cream color of the metal.

They told me it had a 350, though I really didn't know what that meant. At least not compared to any other engine, since I had really only driven that car and my parents 4 door Oldsmobile 98. Both had engines that would carry the metal across pavement like a battleship across the sea.

I thought the design of the Ventura looked a lot like a Camaro or a Trans Am or some other sexy car. I saw few similar cars in my town, but the ones that I did see, and have seen, I always thought looked less sexy - that their grills and hoods didn't have the sleek shape of mine or their tail lights looked boxy and ugly compared to mine. As if, somehow, I had a great 10 year old Pontiac Ventura. I'm not sure that I even knew it was ten years old, though I knew it was not new. I remembered my dad buying it. I think I even remember going with him to the car lot. I remember, if it was 1976 I had to be about 7 or 8 years old, and I remember my mom piling covers and pillows into the two foot areas in the back seat - as separated by the transmission hump - and creating a horizontal area out that gave her two kids each a sleeping area for the long drive to our grandparents. One could sleep on the bench seat and one in the floor. Now, THAT was before the time of child restraint seats and laws.

I would grow up to receive the car sort of by default as I turned sixteen and started driving more and more. I guess if I thought about it, I could remember when we sold it. I think I remember it came to a point where it rolled through oil and smoke and we sold it for something else.

But I remember it. It was a great car.

(Mustin Mentell is in 2nd season of Boston Legal. Not my usual type, but a young cutie just the same. And in the last episode I watched tonight, sporting quite the tribal tattoo down his right arm.)

Sunday, December 16, 2007


Just a quick, short blog. It was a good weekend, a quick weekend. My Fella came without his brother and we had a good weekend. Yesterday, he did not even shower and leave the apt. until we went to a party at a friend's house at six. It was cold, overcast, rainy, yucky icky. I think it was the kind of afternoon he needed to inspire a strong nap and sleep off the last weeks of school.

Today we did some churchin and some shoppin and he finally headed home around 5.

No pics or anything this weekend. But it was a good time.

Friday, December 14, 2007

It all went to the dogs,

by the day of the week, it's today; by the date, it's tomorrow. One year since the damned racetrack let me go. That led to a "unfortunate period of under employment" that lasted six months.

I've been thinking about it some, looking back on that whole period. Wondering what I could have done, couldn't have done, was kept from doing, didn't fight hard enough to do, etc. I don't think I have any more answers than I did that day.

I do oddly enough look back on it and wonder about the people - usually I come out of any experience and at least have somebody that is adding to my life and enriching it in a very real way. That really didn't happen there. Don't get me wrong - there were some real nice people and I enjoyed working with them, and probably up to 3 of them I speak with occasionally (one of them today) - but no real good friend out of it.

Oh well, all in all, it wasn't a bad ride.

Did I tell you one of my best friends started working there this week? That's ironic and funny.

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Just two drinks

was all it took tonight. How funny. I had a delish supper of their new vegetable mexican soup and six hot wings, flirted a bit with the bartender, ran into an old pal named Billy, walked home and passed out. Woke up at 1:30a.m. It's now 2a.m. and i've had a big glass of water and a big glass of orange juice.

How was your night?


The photo of the guy in a wife beater was just too funny to me - some bank is sponsoring an ice skating rink and there's a big freezing contraption to keep the ice cold, but it's warm enough to wear a wife beater t shirt.

That's me and Birthday Girl For The Day in the photo.

Sunday, December 9, 2007

The day

turned out different than I had thought, but oh so nice - though hectic.

No time with my brother and his wife, though they called twice.

Noodle's mom was in town and I spent the whole afternoon with them shopping, until I ran home in time to go directly to church for a business meeting I wanted to sit in on and learn about, then off to dinner with my friends J&Bubbles.

I walked out of W-M without buying a thing I had picked up, the lines were just horrible. I've been arguing with myself about running back now that it's late, in hopes of lesser lines, because the stuff I picked up I really needed. Oh well.

My Fella finishes his finals tomorrow night, and none too soon if you ask me. He has been over stressed about all of his life in general, which I know is really just related to these classes and exams. This semester has been the hardest on him so far.

Looking forward to a good Monday.

Just pics


My parents tell me that my brother and his wife are riding up this afternoon (probably to Noodle's town) to do some holiday shopping. Brother worked all night last night, first at his likker store job then his half-police/half-security job in the projects at home. He works for the projects housing authority, whoever they may be, pulling four hour shifts in the dark of night to help keep vagrancy down. So the plan is my parents already have their grandsons and granddogs, brother will sleep late and then they will drive up. I'll probably drive down and spend a little time with them. I hope not too long, I intend to attend a church meeting tonight at 6:30. But it will be nice to see them.

Our hope for a Wii is hopeless. I call stores every morning, Noodle calls stores every afternoon, Birthday Girl (for the day) has called stores over in Hot Springs. It's just not going to happen. Which has had me thinking for a while about Noodle's way of handling Santa (she coincidentally has a related post - but I haven't figured out how to do links yet). You see, nephew still "believes" so he believes Santa can bring him a Wii. The reality is Uncle Mike has asked friends all over the country to look for a Wii. OK, all over the country may be a stretch, but all over Hot Springs, Little Rock, Memphis, and Biloxi and a few other random towns. There is not a Wii to be found.

Well, I will continue to call, but I have advised nephew's parental units (my brother and his wife) that this probably isn't happening.

Oh well, it will be nice to see them, even if I only visit them while shopping for a little while.

Where there is a will, there is a way

or titled "6 hours round trip" . . . about a week ago, the little sister of Birthday Girl (for the day) sent me an email through myspace and invited me to her sister's surprise 40th birthday party. . . . at a Chinese buffet . . . . 3 hours from my home. . . . which would be six hours round trip to eat a Chinese buffet. . . . .
Alright, I considered it, waffled it, considered some more and argued with myself:
- I live alone with no dog, just so I can pick up and go when I want to
- I've been friends with her since about 1983 (with a "on hold" period of some few years as the result of a . . . . family schism and some serious misunderstandings - as I mentioned in a post a few months ago when I spoke about a cousin of mine)
- I really enjoy her husband and kids (as much as I can ever enjoy kids that aren't "mine.") Her husband and I graduated together from high school. While we were not friends, we were not un-friends. We would of recognized each other in the mall and spoken probably. But he always has a very genuine smile on his face when I see them - if they come to town and bring the kids to the zoo or something they usually call.
-It's a once in a lifetime event, 40 years old
-I didn't really have any plans anyway

Then I would waffle:
- Six hours round trip for a Chinese buffet? PLEASE. Come on, get serious.
- Have you SEEN the price of gas?
- I have bought a total of ONE present for Christmas. There is other stuff to do this weekend.

So I compromised with myself by making it a bigger weekend. I reached out to a friend of mine in Little Rock and spent the night with her and her husband and family. The husband grilled steaks and she made a tossed salad with a yummy balsamic vinegarette dressing and a hashbrown casserole, we drank red wine and sat up talking later than we should have.

In the morning, I rode another hour with mapquest directions and hoping and wishing there would still be a party. The younger sister had failed to check back in so my subsequent emails saying "I am coming" and "could you send me directions" and "is the party still on?" went unanswered. So I quite literally walked into the restaurant with no idea if there was still a party or not.

I knew I could not get to the husband without Birthday Girl knowing something was up, and I had sent some generic emails to a yahoo group we are both on, hoping for leading answers such as "What's everyone's plan for the weekend?" thinking Birthday Girl might respond that she was having lunch with her dad at her favorite place or something. But no such luck.

Anyway, I walked in and there was younger sister, if possible more beautiful than ever, tieing balloons onto chairs. I haven't seen her in probably . . . . geeze, I'd hate to know how many years. I had to tell her "With love honey, you need to check your emails more often if you invite someone to drive 3 hours to a party."

No harm, no foul. It was very nice to see her Mom & Dad again after so many years, and after the lunch, Birthday Girl's husband "gifted" us by taking the kids and letting us have the afternoon to ride around Hot Springs. We rode up into the mountain trail and through the city and just had a very nice afternoon together, before I began my trek back home.

- - There are some pics, but my little card reader isn't working. I need to pick up another one or wait til I get to work tomorrow and email them back to myself.

Querer es poder

That was the fortune on a cookie yesterday. I don't read or speak Spanish, but I thought the similarity to the word "queer" was just funny and ironic. I handed it over to Birthday Girl (for the day) and said, "Seem ironic?" She laughed. She took some high school Spanish so she knew what it meant.

Saturday, December 1, 2007

I have tickets to Jim Brickman,

she said. I had no idea who Jim Brickman could be, except some sort of instrumentalist. But I'd already penciled her in for tonight. She called about four just as excited as she could be, we were going out for cocktails first, and she has passes to the backstage meet, then we were going out for a night cap after. I thought, "Oh my, better bathe."

Turned out to be a wonderful concert. He's also a hottie. And has two hotties on stage with him. From our seats, I could closely see the four performers. When the 21 year old fiddle player David Klinkenberg leaned the right way, his top button undone would show you just a peek at his chest - hairless, if you like that sort of thing. Beautiful. And a fabulous fiddle player. Richie McDonald, formerly of Lonestar fame, sang several songs known well by his voice, and a very talented songwriter named joined them all. She's written several songs made hits by others and has a very nice performance voice and presence herself. The concert was a nice mix of whatever his regular music is, holiday music, the fiddle player and the two singers.

I guess I am Jim Brickman's newest fan.

Oh, and David Klinkenberg's too.