James Brown and President Ford both gone within a few days, but life goes on. Both men played a bit of a role in my own life, James Brown probably more than Gerald Ford. As a small white girl with red hair, I used to try to mimic James Brown's dance steps (probably cute at the time, but so not as good as he was) and his music was a part of my growing up days. As for Ford, to me he was a welcome respite from Nixon as I was in my huge activist days o' life when he took over the presidency.
But life goes on and, for all I know, it could all be homemade bologna.
The Jesus Ladies in their church hats, woolen coats, support stockings and sensible shoes still arrive each morning at the train station to spread the Word. Yes, you too can be saved, just read the Watchtower.
A street drunk named Willie insisted on reading a passage from the Bible to me. I couldn't help but note that his bookmark was an Union County Jail release stub. Ah, but Willie is basically okay; he's only harmful to himself and alcohol is his demon, not Satan.
New Jersey is the Garden State and, while some areas are really beautiful country, where I live is part of why the state is the most densely populated state in the country. Urban living in the 'burbs, so to speak. Living in a rather rough small city with big city crime woes hasn't been challenging for me. The gangbangers shoot each other up on a nightly basis as of late, but they just nod and say "How ya doin'" or "hola" as I walk by. I don't interest them. I don't look wealthy enough to rob and I'm so out of their element that they don't know what else to do but nod and say hi.
There I was standing awaiting a taxi near the train station one rainy night last week. All of a sudden, men with badges on chains and guns scoot by me from somewhere and arrest the barber from the hair shop next door. Um, okay. I've seen what I thought was him dealing drugs on the corner before but dismissed it as my own imagination as no one would be so foolish to deal on such a well-traveled public street corner. Right? I've even exchanged "how ya doin" with the guy and talked about the weather. We've even shared a cab. He never offered me drugs. I'm not sure if I should be offended at being dismissed or happy. I fear I must be getting old or something. Years back, street dealers offered me drugs. Not that I took them up on their offers, mind you. But, sheesh, at least they asked.
I overheard a New Jersey urban variation on the Verizon "can you hear me now" cell phone bit the other day. A man was yelling into his phone, "Can you hear me?" "Hey, do you hear me?" "Dammit, if you hear me, speak up!" "Well, if you're hearin' me, why the #%$ don't you just say somethin' an' let me know so I don't go on like a ^#$@in idiot!" I guess Verizon wouldn't want to use that in their ad campaign.
The homemade bologna just keeps keepin' on.
My exciting news from a while ago has turned pretty much to dust. I should know after all these years not to count on something before it's a done deal. But I'll keep makin' the bologna and exploring my wasted potential. I'll keep watching both the Jesus Ladies and the gangbangers with a watchful eye from the outside as I look inward.
A homeless man sleeps by one of the lions at the NYC Public Library.
I may have posted this photo before - I took it a few years back. However, I've been in one of those reflective moods today. The holidays are a bittersweet time for me as the last time my family was intact and had a "normal" holiday was over 30 years ago. Yes, I have good memories, but I can't help but wonder what it would be like to know my parents on an adult level. My brothers and I are spread throughout the country and spend the holidays apart for the most part. When we do get together, we realize how little time we've actually spent together in the larger scheme of life. I have one brother I haven't seen in about 30 years. No, we're not estranged, per se. We lost touch for a few decades, then talked on the phone and corresponded a bit, then he dropped out again.
Ah, well... So, this is Christmas...
"They said there'll be snow for Christmas, they said there'll be peace on Earth, but it just kept on raining, a veil of tears for the Virgin Birth..." - ELP
I know it's a bit outdated by now, but John Scalzi and Editor Jeff from AOL had this l33t bit a'goin' on a while ago. And, I was waiting for my cat to stay on my sneaker long enough to snag a shot. Why she does that, I don't know. But the second I take shoes off, especially sneakers, she's on 'em.
Thank you for visiting Bill, Charles and Beth (and whomever else may have been by). I hope you all have good holidays ahead!
I've been in a waxing nostalgic mood the last few hours and I know who's to blame. This morning, as per my Sunday morning habit, I watched Sunday Morning on CBS. One of the segments had to do with Yusuf Islam, or as I knew him in a previous life, Cat Stevens.
I was enamored with his music when I was a teenager and into my college days, then he vanished off the music scene when he converted to Islam. He's recently picked up the guitar once again and I have yet to check out his latest efforts. But, as Cat Stevens, he was magical and mystical. In breaking up with my first "serious" boyfriend, "It's a Wild World" played in my mind whenever I thought of him. "On the Road to Find Out" touched upon my own journey finding out about myself. And on and on. Even to this day, my cat (not the one pictured) is named Teaser and that's quasi-due to Teaser and the Firecat.
So, I couldn't take anymore. A few hours ago, I hit up my vinyl. Now, after listening to some of the music of my teen years, I've gone all nostalgic and dreamy. Stevie Wonder's Talking Book album, Moody Blues On the Threshold of a Dream, all of my Cat Stevens collection. Dang if the music doesn't take me to the same place it did all those decades ago. I'm glad I still have some turntables and my vinyl collection.
Of course, I could update a bit of the music for the current state of the Internet. For example, "In the Beginning" (Graeme Edge) of On the Threshold of a Dream, could be:
First Man: I think, I think I am, I think. Establishment: Of course you are my bright little star. I've miles And miles Of files Pretty files of your forefather's fruit And now to suit our Great computer You're magnetic ink. First Man: I'm more than that, I know I am, at least, I think I must be. Inner Man: There you go, man, keep as cool as you can. Face piles And piles Of trials With smiles It riles them to believe That you perceive The web 2.0 they weave And keep on thinking free.
There. How easy was that?
Tonight I'll be blogging The Amazing Race 10 on my TV Blog, but right I'm just a Hard-Headed Woman waiting for Longer Boats comin' to win us. Stop me before I break out my James Taylor, Jim Croce, Simon & Garfunkel, and Gordon Lightfoot stuff.
James Brown and President Ford both gone within a few days, but life goes on. Both men played a bit of a role in my own life, James Brown probably more than Gerald Ford. As a small white girl with red hair, I used to try to mimic James Brown's dance steps (probably cute at the time, but so not as good as he was) and his music was a part of my growing up days. As for Ford, to me he was a welcome respite from Nixon as I was in my huge activist days o' life when he took over the presidency. 
