BULLSHIT
The following is a recent article that has thoroughly pissed me off and I feel the necesssity to address this issue.
Alright, for all you ignorant over-zealous morons let me enlighten you with a little education.
Lee County is named for General Robert E. Lee, an honorable and just man. You would spit on him and condemn him because he fought for the South. Let's look at the facts:
Fact: Robert E. Lee was from a well established family which has honorably served this country since the American Revolution.
Fact: Robert E. Lee did come from an affluent family, but he freed his slaves. Those African-Americans who stayed received wages.
Fact: Robert E. Lee thought that slavery was an evil institution and that it was up to society to do something about it.
Fact: Slavery was a corollary issue to the Civil War. This war was not fought over slavery, or otherwise, the Emancipation Proclamation would have been issued before 1863 (that's 2 years after the war started, for you non history scholars)
Fact: Lee was proud to be an American, but even prouder to be a Virginian. He refused Lincoln's request to be the leader of the Union army, because he could not take up arms against fellow Virginians, fellow friends and family.
Fact: Lee fought valiant for a cause he believed in, not to uphold slavery.
Now, before I become accused at being an insensitive racist, let me point this out. My best friend, whom I have known since I was 10 years old is black. We remained friends when other friends did turn to prejudice and went their separate ways. My family considers him a son and vice versa. I was the best man at his wedding. As I walked down the aisle to stand beside him, I endured snickers and finger pointing as people remarked "that's the best man?" They were astonished that a black man would have or want a white man as his best man, but our friendship has endured societal pressures.
Furthermore, my birthday is January 15th. The same as Dr. Martin Luther King. Seeing his name on the calendar, I had an interest in his life. He is one of the men I most admired because he believed in something and did what he could to make his dream a reality. I admire his passive resistance. Had I been a black man at that time, I probably would have been calling for war. I would have wanted to fight for my independence. It takes a great man to resist instinct, to not fight back when hoses are turned on him and dogs are set loose. I honestly believe that Dr. King would have a lot of respect for Robert E. Lee.
These current fights are hypocrisy. They are not carried out to invoke Dr. King's dream or work. Rather, it is the work of some attention deprived opportunist looking to get his 15 minutes, which he obviously has. There are more important fights to fight and battles to be waged. Take these talents and use them elsewhere. That is what Dr. King would have wanted. These so called crusaders will not make us ashamed to be from the South, nor will they make us feel guilty for having been born white men.
Board member wants Lee County renamed
By JOAN D. LAGUARDIA
jlaguardia@news-press.com
Published by news-press.com on January 25, 2005
DELIVERING YOUR WORLD
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A county advisory group on black affairs publicly criticized a long-time NAACP organizer and started an effort to change the name of Lee County — honoring Confederate General Robert E. Lee — in a surprising and emotional meeting Monday.
Local blacks, members of the NAACP and two county commissioners were among those upset by the actions orchestrated by Anthony Thomas Jr., a member of the Black Affairs Advisory Board, at its regular meeting Monday.
Thomas accused Carletha Griffin, Lee County NAACP president, of ignoring important issues and failing to live up to the standards of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
"As an African American, I am ashamed of this nomination," Thomas said after Dana Pierce nominated Griffin for the board's black community service award.
Thomas claimed Griffin mismanaged the NAACP.
Griffin stood stunned at a podium in front of television cameras and the print media, who attended the meeting on Thomas's notice that he would try to change Lee County's name.
"This is outrageous here. This is outrageous," repeated Chuck Johnson, a spectator in the rear of the room. "I just lost all respect for him," he said of Thomas.
At one point, Johnson called Thomas out of the meeting to reprimand him in the hallway.
The motion to nominate Griffin squeaked by on a 3-2 vote.
Pierce, who nominated Griffin, left her seat to take Griffin's arm and escort the clearly shaken woman back to her seat. Pierce and Griffin left the meeting early.
"That was a personal attack," Pierce said as she left. "If anyone really had a beef with our NAACP president, there are many people who could have run against her."
Griffin said she was shocked.
"They are not saying the right thing. I was just so perplexed," she said of the accusations against her.
Their exit gave Thomas a chance to kill Griffin's nomination after all. When board member Willie Battle arrived
late, Thomas called for another vote. Battle joined Thomas and Gail Ghinga-Hallas to strip Griffin of the nomination.
"By Robert's Rules of order, that's illegal," said Commissioner Ray Judah, liaison to the advisory board, which has nine members.
Judah said divisiveness is not what commissioners expect from the advisory board.
Judah called the effort to rename Lee County "absurd. I suspect the individual who proposed it wants to call Lee County Anthonyville."
Judah said commissioners and the board should focus on health care, education, racial equality and other important issues, rather than pursue an unlikely attempt to rename the county.
Commissioner Doug St. Cerny, who appointed Thomas to the board, said he was disappointed in Griffin's treatment.
"I've known Carletha for years and worked with her. That kind of catches me off guard," he said.
Advisory board members unanimously supported asking commissioners to meet to discuss renaming the county, but Pierce said they will have better luck addressing more reasonable issues, like removing a picture of Robert E. Lee from commissioners' chambers.
Pierce said changing the name of a county is logistically unlikely.
THE COUNTRY SONG
This is a little something I wrote, oh about 10 years ago.
I bet it was a spectacular scene
that glorious night they crowned you queen
I can only imagine because I wasn't there
I was too busy drowning my care
For you it was a night of magic
For me is was something tragic
Well you got happiness and you got him
Well I got Jack, and I got Jim
As long as I can pay my bill
I will always have my fill
It may be you I think about
But at least they'll never run out
I hear how you've gone far
I still sit here in this bar
You got a mansion and a pool
All I got is a broken stool
Yeah, you life is all upper glass
All I want is another glass
Well you got happiness and you got him
Well I got Jack, and I got Jim
As long as I can pay my bill
I will always have my fill
It may be you I think about
But at least they'll never run out
I know that I am not a saint
But Mr. Beam hasn't a complaint
And when I need his friendship
Mr. Daniels lets me have a sip
Well the three amigos are we
Lord, there's no place I'd rather be
Well you got happiness and you got him
Well I got Jack, and I got Jim
As long as I can pay my bill
I will always have my fill
It may be you I think about
But at least they'll never run out
Happy Birthday, Sis
Today is my sister's birthday. I won't tell how old she is, only that she is my OLDER sister. I do have a great sister. She is beautiful, smart, has a great sense of humor, and a heart of gold.
My sister and I are half-bloods. We have the same father but different mothers. Her mother raised her and my mom and step-dad raised me. So, we didn't grow up in the same house. We didn't even grow up in the same town. I guess I was too young to realize that I could've have pushed harder to spend more time with her. We always got along and never fought. Yes, we might get on each other's nerves from time to time, but we never argued. My dad says this is what happens when a brother and sister don't live together. We didn't fight because we did not have the luxury of time or proximity. When you only see each other 4 or 5 times a year you tend to not take it for granted.
So, I never got to be the little brat that crashed her slumber parties or embarrassed her at school. And as I am her little brother, I never got to intimidate her boyfriends (that would have been fun). As I entered high school, she went off to college. When she came back, it was my turn. Then she got married and moved around. I finished college and went off to law school. She moved back to town and I moved away to take a job. Now, she has three little boys and a rather busy schedule and I live 5 hours away. So while I do love her very much, I feel that we aren't as close as I wish we were. She always leaned on dad when times got tough, and I have always been rather independent (I guess it is a guy thing). Again, this is a situation where we do not have much of a mutual past. I have more experience at being a big brother, and don't always know how to be a little one.
I had always hoped that we would get closer with age. I thought we'd live in the same town and I would get to babysit, as the boys would love to spend the weekend with Uncle Mi-kul who'd let them get away with murder (an uncle's privilege). But, that opportunity has not unveiled itself.
When I first started this blog, I only told a few friends. I wasn't sure how it would turn out or what I would be able to write. I expected a few laughs and a couple of "been there done that's" from the fellas. I was hesitant about notifiying my sister, but felt it would be a way for her to gain some insight into her little brother. (A brother that is ever so grateful for having such a wonderful big sis.) A chance to know more about him since we didn't grow up with late night heart-to-heart chats and that unconditional promise of us against the world.
So, anyway Sis, I just want to say "Happy Birthday. I am glad you are my sister. Every guy should be so lucky. I love you."
Michael
Hektor
As some of you may know, I have a great affinity for Troy. Having graduated from Troy State and read the Iliad, I love Troy and its characters. My favorite is Hektor, the crown prince of Troy, played by Eric Bana in the movie. This is my homage to him.
A Letter from Hektor
My dearest Andromakhe, how I long to have you on my arm
A million miles from this foreboding harm
But as a precious prince of Ilion I must stay
Til the bitter cessation of this bloodthirsty fray
For my people and my home I must defend
From the 1000 ships the Akhaians did send
As retaliation for Menelaos’ queen Helen
Whose face did cause my brother Paris to commit this sin
A hero to you and Trojans one and all
But it is to Achilles that I must fall
So I’ll take my place in history with my head held high
And say to you and my son Astyanax good-bye.
Praise valiant Hektor
who with honor did defend
his home Ilion.
Closure
CLOSURE
I WITHDRAW MY HEART FROM THIS RACE
I NOW KNOW JUST WHERE I STAND
SO LET ME BEGIN MY CONCESSION SPEECH
AND FINALLY BRING THIS GAME TO AN END
WE FOUGHT A CLEAN AN HONORABLE FIGHT
LET ME BE THE FIRST TO CONGRATULATE YOU
FOR THE VOICE OF HER SOUL HAS SPOKEN
THE PROJECTIONS CLEARLY INDICATE YOU'RE THE WINNER
YOU EDGED ME OUT FOR HER CAREFREE SMILE
YOU PUMMELED ME FOR HER INNOCENT TOUCH
AND IT WAS A LANDSLIDE FOR HER SPARKLING EYES
SO THERE IS NO NEED TO HEAR FROM HER WORDS
THE MAJORITY HAS RESOUNDINGLY SPOKEN
AND THE REST OF THE BALLOTS WON'T BE ENOUGH
THERE IS NO NEED IN PROLONGING THE INEVITABLE
I AM MAN ENOUGH TO HEREBY ADMIT MY DEFEAT.
How to Win Back Your Ex
How many of you ladies want to get back with your ex, but don't want to take the first step ? Well, let me be of assistance. Apparently, I am the guru of reconciliation. I have reunited more couples than Peaches and Herb. Let me explain...
I was 18-19 and visiting family in Mississippi. I met this cute little girl and was swept away. The catch was she kept bouncing back and forth between two guys. I tried to spend time around her and even went on a church trip just to do so (it wasn't even my denomination) which she backed out of. To make a long story short, she eventually married one of these guys. I learned of the impending nuptials over Valentine's weekend. As I drove back pouting to country music, I got a speeding ticket. At least it was the last one (I am @ 3 weeks away from being 11 years ticket free).
Fast forward a year. Once again, I find myself in Mississippi falling again. The more time I spent with her the farther I fell. Around Christmas time that year, I spent all day with her and some of my family members. It was kind of cool. I guess when you aren't forced to spend all day shopping all the time, it can be kind of cool once in a while. There was a particular gift she was looking for and couldn't find (not surprising in Mississippi). Upon returning to Birmingham, I found it the next day. I put it away and waited to give it to her for her birthday. Fast forward a couple of months. I am visiting family. Her birthday is still a couple of weeks away, but I won't be able to get back there for it. So, I present her with the gift. First of all, she likes the wrapping paper claiming she has the same kind at home. So, I am off to a good start. Secondly, the card had a pink rose on it, her favorite (which I did not previously know). Man, I am in like Flynn. Finally, she loved the gift. So, what is the problem, you ask ? Dramatic pause...she now has a boyfriend which she didn't have 2 months ago. How does this fit in to today's topic ?
She and this guy had dated years ago. Things did not work out. So, they decided to just be friends, although he loved her all this time. After years of friendship, and just as I am coming into the picture, they decide to give it another try. Now they are married.
We now fast forward 6-7 years. I am looking at online personals (another subject for another day). I come across this adorable girl next door type that catches my attention. I pay the $20 membership fee so I can write to her. She never responded, but I digress. While I am online, I see this other pic and curiosity gets the better of me. I read the ad and well, she is too good to pass up. I write her; she writes back. We have this cute little "You've Got Mail" "The Shop Around the Corner" thing going. This goes on for over a year. Emails and late nights chats open my soul to a world I have never known. It feels good rushing home to see if there is a message from her.
At one point, she gives me her number. Like an idiot, I don't call. Of course, she is upset and disappointed that I never did call and rightly so. Why didn't I call ? First, of all I hate my voice. Particularly on recordings, voicemail, answering machines, etc. Secondly, the phone is like kryptonite. I can write all day long, but put me on a phone and I turn into a babbling idiot. Finally, I do call, or try to any way. The number has changed.
Our friendship grows strong. Twice I sent her flowers. But I couldn't bring myself to face her. I was scared of ruining a good thing. I know it sounds stupid. However, I know how people can be. We want to believe in perfection. This mystery person is saying all the right things, sending flowers, etc, then he must look perfect too. Let the illusion continue. Let her enjoy the fantasy. I never meant to imply that she was shallow or superficial. But I know from personal experience how reality can hit you like a brick wall. Once, I had my expectations set too high and upon meeting someone I was disappointed. The chemistry was just not there, and I didn't want to do that to her.
Anyway, back to the story. Eventually, I summon up the courage to meet her. I buy a gift, hop in the car and begin the hour drive to where she worked. I talk myself out of turning the car around. I walk past her dept. and walk a round for a while calming my nerves. Then I do it. I introduce myself, and you could have knocked her over with a feather. We stand around shyly smiling and blushing making small talk not knowing what to say. Then I leave. I email her several times the following week, as I definitely want to pursue the matter. She never responded. I went back to that town the next weekend. I checked my email a dozen times that day hoping she'd be free for dinner. No response. My parents leave for work. So, I go by hers. She doesn't work again until Monday.
The emails trail off, actually they stop. I don't hear from her and I fear that my fears have come true: she met me and was disappointed and I got the cold shoulder. Male pride prevents me from writing her. Months go by, then I get an email from her. Not a personal one, but rather one that is sent to about 50 people. The subject her impending nuptials to an ex. Apparently, he came back into the picture and I am out, romantically speaking. We still keep in touch although I haven't heard from her since before my birthday.
So, ladies if you want your ex back here's what you do: Meet me, sweep me off my feet, and your ex will be back before you on bended knee faster than you can say "kismet".
I HATE HOOTERS
Now, wait a minute girls before you start applauding and making me woman of the year, it is not what you think.
Now I usually don't write two blog entries on the same day. What would I have left to write for tomorrow ? However, this can't wait.
Do you ever have one of those days where it feels like life has kicked you in the jimmy ? And while you are laying there writhing in pain, he or she keeps kicking you. Welcome to my life.
The day starts out with a stupid horoscope that reads "you're about to meet some interesting people" and "your love life is about to turn around". That was bullshit. But at that moment I thought, "it ain't gonna happen as long as I am sitting here in my pj's playing X-box". So, I get cleaned up, dressed, and hit the road.
Once again, I remind you that if you have never been to Clarksdale, it absolutely sucks. If there is a bright center to the universe, Clarksdale is the town that it is furtherest from. So, I drive a few towns over to catch dinner and a movie. While I am watching the movie, I consider my dining options since their is a cornucopeia from which to chose.
My first inclination is Outback since it has been sometime since I have had a steak. Then I realize if I go there I will be waited on by a homo. The over attentive kind who won't leave you alone for 5 minutes. The kind you want to just take your wallet and go away. "No, Raphael. I don't need more ice or a refill, 13 is my limit." Then I remember Hooter's. Hooter's a sweet dream if there ever was one. I can eat and look at well endowed white women (since I can't do that in Clarksdale). And just maybe, that will satiate me enough that I will not stop at the nudie bar on my way home. That was a mistake. May I have a mulligan ?
So, I go to Hooter's. Now the reason I now hate Hooter's is not because it objectifies and degrades women, but because I receive no benefit from this objectification. Let me explain...
As I am sitting there looking around, I realize that I am the only guy in the place that doesn't have a Hooter's girl sitting at his table. The 40 something year old next to me does. He looks like the kind of guy who goes home and jerks off to Hanoi Jane Fonda workout tapes because he is too scared to possess real porn. Meanwhile, my waitress is sitting there eating at a table with 3 other guys. I will refrain from any crude comments regarding her virtue.
Now I understand the logic. Older single men are looking for attention. Give it to them and they will tip well. Younger guys usually have less money or manners and don't tip as well. But trust me, I tip well if the service merits. Flirt with me and you will get some bling-bling. I do the quick pit smell b.o. check. We're good. Then I finish my meal which loses its flavor with each bite and take my leave. My waitress adds insult to injury by saying, "Have a nice day, SIR." SIR. Sir is fine when I am making some smart ass punk plea guilty, but it is down right insulting when some over developed co-ed says it. It is that same feeling you ladies get when the bag boy at the Piggly Wiggly calls you "Ma'am". But the question begs, if she perceives me as old, why didn't she flirt like any other gold digger would ? Now I am too depressed to go to the nudie bar.
Now I know I am alone in my crusade against Hooter's. My so called brothers-in-arms will leave me hanging all alone as they are lured into its web of lies and deceit. I should have gone to Outback...and the nudie bar.
Makes me wonder why I even bother getting out of bed somedays. Deep, deep, deep, down in some chamber of my soul I let out a chuckle. I would swear this was made up if I hadn't experienced it firsthand.
"It is a dog eat dog world and I am wearing milk done underwear."
Norm Peterson
Here in the Real World
Disclaimer: After a slow week wherein the idealistic romantic has exhibited a sample of his poems, it is time for him to recess to that dark dank chamber and let Mr. Hyde, the cynic or as I like to call him, the realist, come out and play. Let's begin...and let the reader beware.
It has been a rather slow and bleak week. The kind that rolls around every cold January. That time when there is not much desire hanging in air and you are content to stay indoors. It was an uneventful week as I prepared for trials that did not take place. As I sit here writing this entry with my trusty cell phone next to me, I have a realization, here it is the 22nd. My phone log indicates that my phone has not rang since 3:19 on Sunday the 16th. It rang twice that day, as both my sisters called to wish me a belated happy birthday. Here it is, a week a later and I still have not heard from my 2 friends of over 20 yrs. Apparently, they haven't even remebered that they forgot. On top of that, still no word from "her".
As it is January, the whole aspect of introspection creeps into the mind like the "Ghost of Christmas Past" and I realize that like an amnesia victim, for all intents and purposes I do not have a past. I recall the first time I learned one of life's little lessons...It was 1981 and I was six. I told the object of my affection that I thought she was beautiful. Her reply, "I think you are ugly." I remember standing there shocked and heartbroken, thinking to myself that is not what you are supposed to say. You're supposed to say, "thank you" and "I think you're cute". At least, that is how Hollywood would have written it.
It was all uphill from there. Apparently, there is an evolution to rejection. I have had the aforementioned insults, the laundry list of attributes of how great I am but she doesn't feel that way speech, to the modern day approach of having my very existence denied. As we continue that this path of introspection, I think of one of my friends. I have known him for about six years. In that six years, he has had five girlfriends (not at the same time mind you). Each lasting approximately a year. Five in six years. I have had zero in thirty years. I have never been able to introduce anyone as "my girlfriend". In fact, it took 29 years for me to require two hands to count up the individual dates I have been on. Actually, there is an asterisk by one of them. I consider it a date, she would say we were just friends hanging out, but since I am the author, I say it is a date. And with the exception of her, all the others were blind dates (which is a whole topic which I will save for another day). The worse part of it is certain people give me a hard time about, thinking it is a joke. Now while I have a great sense of humor, they don't realize that I don't find this very amusing and it actually pisses me off when they do this.
Looking at my friend's dating history, I realize I didn't expect to find my soulmate at 6 years old. But it would have been nice to be young and in love. To have what everyone else takes for granted:
holding hands at the skating rink, late dinners after football games, the "I'll break every bone in your body" talk with someone's dad, weekends at the lake, prom, sororiety socials, spring break. It would have been nice to have these memories. I don't know what it is like to feel her hair brush against my cheek, her breath on my neck, her heartbeat next to mine. As I was recently telling someone, the reason I am able to write all these poems is I have the time. Guys in relationships generally don't do it because they are too busy being in love, actually spending time with their better half.
I have always said that I would never get married. Everybody has always misinterpreted that to mean that I didn't want to get married. They inferred that I like every other guy didn't want to give up that swinging devil may care bachelor life-style. On the contrary, I don't think any man on earth wanted to be married more than I. I longed for the day of coming home from work to the house with the white picket fence, the pitter-patter of little feet, the echoes of "Daddy's home". I have glanced down at my left ring finger imagining what it must feel like. I said I would never get married as a defense mechaism because if I had said I want to but no one is ever going to want to marry me (hell no one even wants to date me). I probably would have been sent to therapy. They would think I have some psychological personality disorder when the truth is I am right. It doesn't help matters when you are the son of Casanova. A man who has convinced 4 women to say "I do", and his son can't even get 1 to say "I don't".
At this point, I feel the need to point out one positive. There was this one time (and no it wasn't at band camp, although maybe I should have gone there) I did have a glimmer of hope...
I was 26, a year out of law school. I met her and was interested and she was interested as well. We flirted around a bit, but that was as far it went. Why ? Because I looked at the situation from a woman's point of view. Here I am a 26 year old guy living with his parents, has 2 college degrees and no steady job or money. A date would have literally been McDonalds, Blockbuster, and sitting on the floor of my bedroom in my parents house. What woman could resist that ?Before, I landed a decent job (out of town by the way) and could stand on my own two feet, she went back to school and her family moved away. So, that was the pinnacle of my social life. One piqued interest in thirty years. Which brings us up to date and two concerns ? First, what woman is dying to meet a thirty year old who has never had a relationship. I mean if that is not a major red flag, I don't know what is. Secondly, since there has been no experience, no testing ground to work out the kinks, there is a higly over-exaggerated expectation on my part. When you date as a teenager, etc. you realize the way things are and learn to accept them and ease into them. But after 30 years of hoping, wishing, and praying, no one can live up to the ideals you have set. So as Mr. Jackson sings, "sometimes the boy don't get the girl here in the real world."
The Eyes of a Woman
HE IS NOT A PRINCE OR A MILLIONAIRE
AND SHE DOESN’T EVEN SEEM TO CARE
AT THE END OF THE DAY, HE RUSHES ON HOME
JUST TO RUB HER FEET, BRUSH HER HAIR
HE NEVER MADE ALL-CITY OR ALL-STATE
BUT SHE STILL AGREED TO BE HIS DATE
MIDNIGHT FEEDINGS AND HOUSE CLEANINGS-HE DOES HIS SHARE
WHO COULD ASK FOR A BETTER FATE
HE IS NOT ON THE COVER OF A MAGAZINE
BUT HE IS STILL THE BEST SHE’S EVER SEEN
WHEN HE FLASHES THAT SMILE AND HOLDS THEIR CHILD
SHE KNOWS JUST WHAT IT ALL MEANS
HE MAY NOT BE THE MAN OF HER IMAGINATION
BUT SHE SAID YES WITHOUT HESITATION
IN ALL THESE YEARS NOT A MOMENT OF REGRET HAS PASSED BY
BECAUSE TO HER THIS LIFE IS FULL OF EXULTATION
THE EYES OF A WOMAN SEE INTO THE HEART OF A MAN
THE WANTS OF A GIRL SLOWLY FADE AWAY
WHILE THE NEEDS OF A WOMAN ARE HERE TO STAY
CHILDHOOD FANTASIES BECOME WHOLE NEW PLANS AND THAT UNNOTICED BOY, IS THE LIGHT OF HER DAY
Through the Eyes of a Girl
I wish that I had some witty diatribe to publish, but it has been a slow week here in Clarksdale. So, I am publishing another poem. Hopefully, the dry spell will end soon.
Well, he was a blue eyed blond
Some would call a real Don Juan
He’d flash that mischievous smile
That’d stop your heart for a while
He was what every girl dreams
At least that is what it seams
So you indulged in your little fantasy
Drowned in a river of ecstasy
You surrendered you heart and soul
And now you’re bound to pay the toll
The dream is over, time to face reality
He is not at all what he seemed to be
Now it is more than his eyes that roam
While you sit alone waiting at home
The fire smolders and dinner gets colder
All the while he gets all the bolder
That cozy little cottage, white picket fence
None of this seems to make any sense
The eyes of a girl are filled with stars
But they really can’t see all that far
They believe what they want to believe
The truth they just cannot perceive
Thinking they are as happy as a lark
Off and running into the dark
CDB
can I interest you in my devotion?
how about a sip of cupid's potion ?
entertain a thought if you will
realize it's my heart you fill
yearning to share with you a dance
let's not let go of this our chance
deep in my heart is where you reside
eagerly awaiting my arms open wide
needing to be held in your arms
intoxicated by all of your charms
seeking out your favor to attain
enchanted by this place called Maine
breathe life back into my soul
rekindle a fire out of control
envision your dreams all coming true
tell me it is your love that I drew
only you can brighten each day
now what is left to do but pray ?
me
CC
can I break my fate's seal ?
are you aware of how I feel ?
rest your love upon me if you may
make you heart mine is what I pray
enlighten my soul with a tender kiss
no, don't let me drift into the abyss
come into the light of my love
open the gates to heaven above
unite these two long lost souls
react before time takes its toll
say unto me "I love you"
enthrall me with the words "I do"
yearn to start this life a new
The Cosmic Joke That Is My Life
In Clarksdale, Mississippi, single white women over the age of 21 are as rare as multiple orgasms. Therefore, in order to see any, one must get out of Dodge.
My friends and I usually have dinner once a week or every other week. Of course, we do so for the comraderie and food, but we also check out women. At least I do anyway (capish Mrs. U). As a matter of fact, I was just reading an article that stated the main reason people go out is to check out the opposite sex. However, my friends and are royally screwed when it comes to the food service industry.
Here we are in a college town. The resteraunt is full of cute co-eds. Are we lucky enough to be waited on by one of them ? Nooooooooooooooooooooo. We get a waitER, again. We could go to Hooter's and wind up with the only waitER in the place. The odds of us getting a cute waitress are in the neighborhood of "3720 to 1". Usually, the waitER looks like a cast member from Queer Eye (not that I actually watch that show). Of course, we realize that the cute waitress is only flirting to increase her tip, but it is a nice charade...and it works.
The irony is that the very next day I have lunch with my parents. And what happens ? You guessed it. We are waited on by this gorgeous creature with that most mesmerizing of assets...a southern accent. An accent so lyrical and intoxicating it rivals the song of the Sirens that tormented Odysseus. Futhermore, she is just as sweet as a Georgia peach. But of course, what can I do with mom and dad sitting across the table ? I can see it now, mom inviting her to sit down and look at my au naturale baby pictures before we even have our first date. Or on the other end of the spectrum, mom and dad have first row seats as their baby boy crashes and burns.
To top it all off, as usual our waitress doesn't bring us our food. It is brought out by someone else...co-incidenlty someone I had gone out on more of a semi-date kind of thing about a year and a half ago while I still lived in Tupelo. Thousands of people in Tupelo and I run into the only one I went out with. She actually remembers me and starts up with idle chit chat. "How are you ?" "Do you still work at such and such ?" Mom and dad are still across the table mind you. I remember her, but I am not 100% sure of her name (and God have mercy on me if I introduced her by the wrong name, so I don't). I am only glad mom didn't inquire about the matter. Lord knows my sister would have. I have to laugh about the matter in order to keep from crying.
All this reminds me of one of my favorite Al Bundy quotes,"So, this God person, what do you think SHE looks like ?"
UNTITLED
Big city boy taking a step back
Small town girl bags already packed
Passing by like ships in the night
Both with dreams ready to take flight
A cup of coffee and a slice of pie
She's got a twinkle in her eye
Smothered and covered with a side of grits
This place is far from the Ritz
He's got cotton fields and magnolia flowers
But she wants Sammy and Sears Tower
The mighty Mississippi and a honeybee hive
Can't compare to the buzz of Lakeshore Drive
He wants so much to be her Atticus
She wonders where that 8:30 bus is
He searches for the words that will make her stay
She's waiting for the dawn of a new day
Thoroughly modern having breakfast at Tiffany's
Ever ready to conquer that windy city
And when she's done she'll hop across the pond
Ready to live her life with Mr. Bond
He's got cotton fields and magnolia flowers
But she wants Big Ben and London Tower
Hotty toddy, Graceland and muddy waters
Can't compete with Shakespeare and Tralfalgar
Me
Delusions of Grandeur
"Love: the delusion that one woman differs from another."
H.L. Mencken
So, I am a hypocrite. I admit it. I wear my cynicism like a coat, armor to protect the inner idealist. As Louis would say, "at heart [I am] a rank sentmentalist."
I still hold my breath every day as I approach my mailbox hoping there is a note or card from "her". And every day I close that mailbox with disappointment. I sent the flowers in an attempt to brighten her day, to let her know someone was thinking of her. It was with much reservation that I sent the follow-up note.
I was content thinking I had done a good deed. But, that most contemptible of consciences, a friend, advised that unless she knew "who", it was wasted effort. To me it was not wasted effort because apparently she did like them and wanted to know "who". Hence, the note and the subsequent Christmas card I sent.
I could imagine her sitting there and receiving the flowers. I can imagine her smiling face. I can imagine her co-workers asking who sent them and I can imagine her blushing as she replies,"a secret admirer". I can imagine her racking her brain trying to figure out "who".
But the fact that it has been almost 2 months with no response renews my lack of faith in humanity. There was a time when a Southern lady graciously accepted gifts and sent cordial thank you notes. I guess I should have been born during that time. Imagine how it feels to be passed over, to know that someone can't take five minutes out of her life to say thank you. Even if that is all she says.
Maybe now my pond-hopping friend can understand my hesitation. The prior fear that I had. The illusion existed of how great this mystery man was. As long as she didn't know, he could be anyone and she would never be disappointed. But when the truth is revealed, her expectations are shattered.
The irony of my life is this, I damned if I do, and damned if I don't. The times I don't act I should, and vice versa. At that time I was afraid this scenario would happen so I did not act. This time and I did act, and the scenario unfolded my fear. I just hope that you may understand why I hesitated, why I continue to be gun-shy.
Does anyone else ever feel like they are just cosmically screwed ? My latest theory or rather an attempt to justify the situation: In a past life I was a total a**. A manipulative, self-indulging womanizer. My penance: to walk in this life as an observer to see true beauty, true love, to appreciate it but to never experience it. Too long for it, but to always have it just out of reach.
Maybe the folly of man is his inquisitive nature, the need to know "why".
FOR THE BOOK OF LOVE
I can die tomorrow and I have not loved.
My lips never touched a woman's while I lived.
None has given me her soul in a look; none in heat
Has held me, exhausted with love, to her heart.
I have but suffered for all nature, each moment,
For the beings, the wind, the flowers, the firmament,
Suffered through all my nerves minutely, like a knife.
Suffered to have a soul still not yet pure enough.
I spat upon love, and I killed the flesh.
Mad with pride on this Earth enslaved by Instinct's leash,
I alone stood and stiffened myself against life.
I challenged the Instinct with a bitter laugh.
Everywhere, in the salons, at the theatre, in church,
Before these cold, great men, these men of finest touch,
And those women with gentle, or jealous, or proud eyes
Whose tender, ravished soul one might virginally rechase,
I thought: all these are come to it. I heard it in their rites
The roarings of the unclean coupling brutes.
So much mire with an access of three minutes in mind!
Men, be correct! O women, keep your smiles refined.
Jules LaForgue
(1860-1887)
My Grandfather
This week marks the sixth anniversary of my grandfather's death. Not only was he my grandfather, but also my godfather and my confirmation sponsor. He taught me how to swim, an appreciation of music from another era, and instilled in me an abiding love for the Alabama Crimson Tide and that most revered of coaches "The Bear". I thought he walked on water. But as we grow, we learn that those we look up to are only human and yes fallable.
My grandfather was the son of an Alabama bootlegger. He would tell me stories of driving the truck to town, "leaving it" to go eat or watch a movie, then come back and drive home. My great-grandfather got busted. Had he not, I'd probably have a greater inheritance and might truly be called "Don Williams".
My grandfather entered the military and eventually got stationed in Massachusetts where he met my grandmother. She was a divorced mother of three, but that didn't stop him. They married and had four more children, my mother being their first-born.
They lived in Mass. until the summer before my mom's senior year. Mom begged and pleaded with them to let her stay and graduate with her friends. After all, she had older brothers and an older sister as well as aunts and uncles with which to stay. They wouldn't let her. So, she moved with them to the Birmingham area. Lucky for me, because otherwise I would have never been born. But I do sometimes wonder how her life would have turned out if she had stayed in Mass.
My grandfather had to edure a lot. He buried his father (whom he was named after) a son (who was named after him), and a brother. My grandfather was human and made mistakes, but he greatly influenced my life.
Bachelors
"Bachelors know more about women than married men; if they didn't they'd be married too."
H.L. Mencken
"Bachelors have consciences, married men have wives."
H.L. Mencken
"The only good husbands stay bachelors. They're too considerate to get married."
Finley Peter Dunne
An Epiphany
Are you smiling for the sake of courtesy
or do you want to get closer to me ?
I don't know if you are being polite
or if you want me to hold you tight.
I don't know the rules to this game
Should I bother asking your name ?
Do I dare to take a chance
or just be grateful for a glance ?
Should I reveal my heart's desire
or bury my feelings in the mire ?
Is your love mine to steal ?
How do I make my appeal ?
So, the other night I am sitting there in my pj's with a pint of Ben and Jerry's watching a Meg Ryan flick and dreading turning 30, and it hits me like a ton of bricks, I am such a girl sometimes. No, I am not gay. One look at my wardrobe will disspell that myth instantaneously. But Rosie is right, I "don't want to be in love. [I] want to be in love in a movie." This leads me on a deep journey of introspection.
The problem is in how men and women play the game. Each side holding fast to their perspectives declaring loud and proud that the other side is wrong. Meanwhile, both are on the opposites sides of the auditorium in a stalemate and no one is dancing. We play the game like poker, holding our cards close to our chest so afraid of showing our hand. We should treat the game like football. In football each team sends the other team game film, so they can see what they are facing and prepare a strategy on offense, defense, etc. Everbody is so concerned with defense, that few are playing offense anymore.
Case in point, I often hear women say they only attract jerks or creeps. Let's analyse that. If you are attracting them that means they are coming to you, being sucked in like the Falcon to Death Star. Jerks and creeps are playing offense. Why ? Because they could truly care less about you. They are just looking to get some. If you turn them down, they just go on to the next one. If you accept, they begin saying cha-ching and swing their elbow back a la Kirk Gibson hobbling around the bases in the '88 World Series, and thank God that they do not have to go home with that most colorful of anatomical conditions.
Nice guys, good guys, whatever you want to call them play defense. Why ? Because they have had their still beating hearts ripped from their chests and shown to them. It hurts them more because they actually care. They are looking for more than one night of ecstasy. Guys are at an extreme disadvantage. If another guy challenges our manhood or disrespects us, we can knock the s*** out of him or drink him under the table. But when a woman does this, all we can do is stand there and take it. It ain't fair, but that's life.
Both sides are so hypocritical. They do exactly what they accuse the other of. Case in point, women are always saying guys are shallow, don't judge her by her looks alone. OK, point taken. But I have never ever seen or a heard a girl say, "Oh, I bet he has a great personality. I want to go talk to him." It is usually more like, "check out that butt." So, ladies you do it too. Don't dare try and say you don't. I am not passing judgment, but merely saying let's cut the bs.
It's not always about looks. Social status can be a death sentence particularly to a southern guy. Nowhere is this more prevelant than at anyone of your major state schools of the former Confederacy. I will focus on the one that gave us the first family of college football.
I spent 3 years on this campus completing the arduous task that is law school. This rivals Hercules' labors, but I digress. Apparently, the women here have committed to memory the blueblood's guide to social climbing. If you ain't in it, forget it. I would have to cross sorority row approximately 4 times a day for these 3 years. Therefore, I can personally testify to this. Many times I would pass co-eds. As they approached I would smile (as any southern gent would do) but before my lips could form the shape to say hello, little miss thing would literally turn her nose up at me. Now that is just plain right rude. At my undergraduate alma mater, if you smiled and said "hi" or "good morning" to a young lady, she reciprocated.
Guys are hypocrites too, don't get me wrong. We complain about girls being with jerks who stand them up, cheat on them, forget their birthday, and abuse them emotionally and sometimes physically. But where our we, right there brushing back their hair, wiping their tears, and being their emotional tampon (Sam Kinnison, I know you are down there smiling up at us). Yet, we keep coming back for more. Here's another example, regarding...let's call her Mary. Mary and I got to be close. Probably one of the closest female friends I have ever had. But Mary, much like Scarlett O'hara had many, many suitors. However, she was either extremely naive or really that clueless. Anyway, she proceeds to tell me that one of the other guys didn't like it when she hung out with me and it upset her. Well, no s***. I didn't like her hanging out with him either, but I am not stupid enough to tell her that. There were many times when I was about to tell her stuff, but before I could (she must have been a mind reader) she would precede with something about what she wanted or didn't want etc. , therefore issuing the foreboding warning that I should bite my lip. But I stayed there holding out for a day that would never come.
I guess I am somewhat fortunate to have this mental stutter step that keeps me from making a total fool out of myself. I recall one time I was in a bar review lecture. There was this beautiful girl in the row behind me. After a couple of days, I summoned up the courage. I would talk to her at the next break. Carpe diem. With 10 minutes to the break, I hear her talking about her wedding dress. That was a close one.
So again, we are all hypocrites refusing to see the other side's point of view and, therefore, we keep playing defense. Until one of us decides to play offense, we will just be sitting here whining about each other.
Just Another Poem
Since I probably won't get around to writitng anything this weekend, I figured I would go ahead and put this on here.
longing for some form of divine intervention
attempting to gather the courage to mention
unwillingness to be another in a sea of faces
rallying against odds to win your graces
anticipating everyone of your sweet sighs
mesmerized by the light in your eyes
ceasing to believe happiness doesn't exist
daring to walk in the cleansing mist
opening my soul without hesitation
no more fear, no more trepidation
and if this does not come to pass
let me innocently pretend it has
dreaming you were once my lass
Woman
"Woman is the soul of man. The radiance that lights his way. Woman is glory."
Don Quixote
Man of La Mancha
ICING ON THE CAKE
Every man has dreams he dreams
Like being captain of the team
Driving in the winning run
And having his moment in the sun
Everything revolves around this task
But that doesn't fill my flask
Those thoughts have crossed my mind
But I left them far behind
No need to be a hero, or a millionaire
Chasing windmills, conquering the air
Cause every day, my breath you take
Everything else is icing on the cake
Some men climb the ladder of success
Or need to be caught up in the press
Some men want to weild such power
Over everyone they must tower
Others only want a piece of this rock
On which they can raise their stock
But even if I don't amount to much
I have everything in your touch
That is all I'll ever need
Even if I accomplish a million deeds
Cause every day, my breath you take
Everything else is icing on the cake
Me
Re: Fan Mail
Having read my fanmail regarding the first entry I wrote, I feel the need to defend that particular piece.
First, of all it is not attempt to bash all women. Just the ones who whine about there not being any nice guys left. Therefore, it does not apply to you Miss C. or should I say Mrs. U. As you have a nice guy for whom I can personally vouche. Second of all, it is not faulty logic because it is not logic. I was merely voicing my feelings based on first hand observations. It is not about right or wrong, but rather what actually happens in real life.
That piece was directed at the woman who complains there are no nice guys while the nice guy is sitting there with the box of tissue because Mr. I got something better to do stood her up. Again this is not you as you are not a loathesome woman.
I do appreciate your comments as that means there is someone other than my fave Brit reading this. I am grateful that someone is taking the time and interest to hear what I have to say regardless of whether or not they agree. Thanks.
Soul Mates ?
Alright boys and girls, today's question is : Soul mates, do they exist ? Or are there a finite amount of people with whom we are compatible ?
Of course, many people think they have found their soul mate. But, honestly, how can this be verified ? All we have is our own subjective understanding. For example, what if the happy couple are before the throne of God and this happens :
God says, "Yes, you two are happy and compatible. But you are not soul mates. Young lady, your soul mate is in Boise, Idaho. However, since I gave mankind free choice and he decided not to take the job in L.A., you two never met. And as for you young man (of course we are all young relative to the Almighty) since you didn't go to Notre Dame, you didn't meet your soulmate. So happy couple yes, soul mates no."
Since I know of no one who has returned from the throne of God, this theory remains a theory. It is not proven law, but it can't be refuted either. I only know of one relationship in history guided by God. Joseph and Mary. For He told Joseph to take and marry her since she was with child by the grace of the holy spirit.
This prefaces my next concern which is love triangles. One of the oldest plots in story telling. Two men in love with the same woman. And unless you are Mormon, Muslim, or into alternative lifestyles this ain't going to work. I refuse to believe that in this world 2 people cannot have the same amount and depth of love for another person. I will base my analogy on the most sacred of stories Casablanca.
In the beginning, we do not know that Ilsa and Rick had a thing. When they did have a thing, Rick didn't know Ilsa was married/ thought to be a widow. When Ilsa finds out Victor is still alive, she rightly leaves Rick and returns to her husband. Then all three meet up in Casablanca.
Yes, she ends up with Victor. But who is to say he loves her anymore or less than Rick ? Do we assume that just because Rick "lost out" that he is not her soul mate ? Is it an after the fact determination, "since we are married we must be soul mates" ? Victor gets Ilsa, and Rick walks off into the Moroccan night with a frogophile. Great consolation.
Did Ilsa choose Victor out of love or obligation ? Some may argue the latter, Rick was her soul mate and now they must live without each other. And that is where the story ends.
But what next ? If they are soul mates (and if that concept does exist then there is one and only one for each of us) what happens if you are Rick ? How about this for a moral dilemna. Do you then marry someone you are compatible with knowing that person is not your soul mate or do you live life alone ? Yes, you could win an Oscar for your performance, but deep down you know she's not "the one". And if you are her, how do you feel knowing that you're not the one ?
So, is it soul mates and destiny, or are there many compatible people out there and we let free choice decide ?
Yes Beulah Bell there is a Stealers Wheel
This goes out to my fave ex-pat. I was reminded by it this past weekend when I saw one of those Time-Life sounds of the whatever albums. Let me give you the backdrop.
I met an amazing woman online. A friendship that started in 2002 (that is a story for another day) and goes on even to this day.
We were having a late night chat session and I was telling her about my family. I recall this coversation vividly as this young lady held me totally captivated and I treasure every memory I have of her. At that time my older sister had 2 boys (she now has 3) and my younger sister had 2 girls (she now has 3). Both sisters are half-sisters biologically speaking. So dad is clamoring for a granddaughter (since he doesn't have one) and mom wants a grandson (since she doesn't have one). And here I am stuck in the middle.
My friend proceeds to declare that Jeff Healey was the artist. When I tried to refute this, she went online and found where he did RECORD it. I can envision her punching wildly in the air in a victorious celebration thinking she had proven me wrong. I stress RECORD it because, he along with everone else has RECORDED it. However, to the best of my knowledge the ORIGINAL ARTIST was Stealers Wheel. If anyone proves me wrong, I will indeed print a retraction and be forever at her mercy. But if it is one thing I excel at, it is knowing obscure irrelevant facts.
So, yes Bealuh Belle (and I know I misspelled that, so there is some satisfaction for you), there is a Stealers Wheel.
Double Standards
Double standards are abound in this world and hence life is not fair. Here is the latest one I have found. It does not matter how short, tall, fat, skinny, young or old, or otherwise physically challenged a woman is there is a guy out there who will "do her". As a matter of fact his name is Chris and I can get you his number if you like. No where is this theory, or fact for that matter, more prevelant than among our canine friends. Think about it the next time you see a german shepherd and a chihuahua going at it.
The same can not be said for guys. If you are physically challenged, you're just plain screwed. Because since women know they can get it, they have the luxury of being picky. They know they can do better. Which means they will ditch the skoal dippin, trucker cap wearing redneck for the drunken frat boy who will only have gainful employment because his father owns the company.
I am willing to wager the family treasury (ok dad's nascar memorabilia) that an overwhelming majority of virgins over the age of 30 are men. A bunch of short sleeve, white collar, pocket protector-wearing, mid managers who spent their adolescence playing D & D and arguing over who is the more worthy adversary: Klingons or Romulans and think the G-spot is somewhere near the Crab Nebula. Whereas, all a woman has to do is step out of the house and she is guaranteed to get hit on.
So yes there are double standards, and don't tell me it balances out just becuase we get paid more. Trust me, we would swap.
New Theories
So, I am trying out new theories like shoes. Try them on, walk around for a while and see how they fit. Today's theory is that there really is a yin and yang balance to the world ie good & evil, rich & poor etc. Por ejemplo, everyone cannot be cool. If everyone is cool then no one is cool. Alright, so I stole that from100 Girls (a great flick by the way) you caught me. The point is there has to be a basis for comparison and contrast. If everyone looked like Pamela Anderson and Brad Pitt, how would we know that is beautiful, since everyone looks like that. Therefore, everyone cannot be beautiful (physically) rich and throw a 90 mph fastball.
All this leads me up to my point. Not everyone gets the happily ever after fairy tale. Some live lives of misery and quiet desperation. If every one was Cinderella, then no one would be impressed, because they have that. But the poor soul without it sees it, fantasizes and holds on to hope because it is something to aspire to. So some of us poor souls have to stand on the other side of the see-saw, and to quote Don Henley, "our prison is walking through this world all alone." Do you really think the 7 dwarfs are truly content ? Imagine mining all day and then coming home and living with six other guys.
Just a theory.
Guitarangel
Ok, so I don't know much about setting these pages. However, I strongly encourage anyone who is reading mine to read the thoughts of a very dear friend of mine. Her site is
www.guitarangel1979.blogspot.com
