What's your name?......

What's in a name? As kids we liked to annoy my parents by singing that song where you add a name and do the banana, fanna, fo fanna thing. Usually sung at the top of our lungs from the backseat of the car. It was particularly fun to use the Chuck name with the great resulting rhyme. Woo Hoo! We got to swear! I've always wondered about the inspiration for names, and put a lot of thought into naming my son, Dane. I tried not to fall into the most popular name trendy name, but not be too "out there" either. Needless to say, he was the only Dane that year and probably most years at Alpena General Hospital. Still unique, but totally suiting him. Recently, there was a local bust involving a house of "ill play-zhure." The named pimp of the place was a man with the telling moniker of Donjuando. For real. What did that mom expect her son to grow up to be with that type of handle? Laydees beware! And I don't even need to address the celebs with their off-the-chart originality. Their reality is kind of skewed, but at least they have the dough to pay for the hours of therapy that the poor tot will probably be needing somewhere down the line. Better them than me, is all I can say. In my life I have found it curious that I am friends with a Patrick Fitzpatrick, Paul Paulsen, and a Thomas Thompson. I can only guess that their moms didn't want to use an excess of letters, making life just a little easier for them. So, this brings me to Halloween night, where I made the acquaintance of a real life "Jack Dick." There he stood dressed as the bloated, fat, white-jump suited Elvis. The hot bar provided the necessary sweat to make him glisten very realistically, and I couldn't resist telling him that maybe he should lay off the fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches. He in good nature told me that would be no problem as long as the pills and booze kept comin'. He then introduced himself with his given name. My response was, "Trick or treat? Ha ha, that's funny." No dude, it's my real name. Seems "Dick" is a common name up north and unfortunately, Jack, is too. He shrugged it off and said it only holds shock value the first time. Hmmm.mmm. Isn't that true of most everything? I like names and their implications and have always attached a name to my cars and houses. I like the whimsy and personal identity and familiarity a name provides. The blog names we have chosen intrigue me and gives me a clue as to who we think we are. And the vanity plates around here are just crazy. When I visited Costa Rica, the ticos told me there was no such name as Jodi. They opted for "Julia", pronounced Whoo lee ah. Pretty exotic, huh. I saw on the Travel Channel, a south pacific island, (which one escapes me) that uses 7 core names, and they are based on your marital as well as social status. Yuck. Interesting, but not much room for creativity--which I hope never escapes me. I guess the moral of the story is you can say I can't sing the "banana fana" but you CAN'T say I don't know jack dick. xoxo P.S. Please let me know some of your more interesting name experiences! P.P.S.S One more day till the Madonna concert!!! xoxo

It's time for a love revolution.....

I have never missed voting in an election since my first one in 1976. That said, now let me say this--I ABHOR politics. It all began innocently enough. Politics were a given in our home. My Dad was involved locally and spent years as township clerk, and at the post of trustee. People would actually come to our house to register to vote. It was a family requirement for us to be aware and thoughtful voters. As a under informed, young, crazy, liberal to the max, bleeding heart teenager, Dad and I had many heated debates. And it wasn't always pretty. But I learned the lesson of listening and respecting others opinions--tolerating usually. We most often had to agree to disagree. Quite nice of him, considering that I didn't know the first thing about the first thing. Too impatient to really study the details or watch debates, my opinions were on quite the surfacey level. Without the concerns of social security, job security, taxes and such--(yawn) my views were probably idealist and immature. Fast forward to now. I still could be called under informed. And naive. Difference being that now I KNOW I am guilty. But these things I do know for sure. If things could only go MY way, politics would play out something like this. 1) We would all play nice. I can't abide with the mean spirit of it all. No sticks and no stones. No divas or terrorist name calling. And easy on the dirt digging. I don't care much about candidates personal lives as long as there is nothing too untoward in their past. A little pot? Sheesh--who cares. An avowed wino like me would never be one to judge. 2) I think the electoral college is outdated and I would revise it--still workin' on that one. 3) Instead of speeches and promises that hold no accountability, I would simply like a spread sheet of all candidates past voting and their current plans. You say it, okay, now bring it. 4) following #3, every 6 months the prez would be up for review and a grade would be issued, kind of a check up on said promises. 5) Absentee ballots would be encouraged, and be the primary way to cast. Think of the savings if we all voted and delivered completed ballots ourselves. I don't think we could trust the U.S.P.S. to be 100% reliable, so again--I'm still working on this one. 6) There would be a gag order forced on all celebrities. Shut your effin' pie hole. I know, I know, freedom of speech and all that But, most of us are not smart enough to do anything but follow the stars. These celebs are probably no more informed than me, however, they can surely swing a big one . Hell, once you get the nod from Oprah, like, a bajillion women will blindly trust her judgement--right or wrong. So if you like Bruce Springsteen's music, you must want to take his advice. You just pick your celeb and let them decide for you. So much easier that actually thinking for yourself. 7) There would be initiated a "Love" party. Soley my idea. I hate the fact that you have to be pigeon holed into a "party". Not my idea of a good time. I happen to be socially liberal but financially conservative. Both sexes need to be represented equally. Seems that the testosterone level in the presidency can somehow justify a war and I think that if there were a woman and a man together making decisions, that the soft, compromising side of us girlies could temper the "WAR!!" whoop. We all would just sit down for a cocktail or four and work things out. Sounds silly, but as human beings, bet we could figure it out. 8) R-E-S-P-E-C-T please. For me, political choices are extremely personal. Maybe that's why we vote in private. You won't find me wavin' any freak flag, or spouting my "views", no zealot me,--lucky for you. I venture to say, that we are all different in our pasts, religious beliefs, and financial status and are inclined to vote in a way that reflect this. So, please honor me, and I will honor you. 9) Once a president is elected, try to be positive and support the vote that our country has deemed valid. We need to work together to make good things happen. 10) Be happy that a known political pea brain like me has had her say, and probably will never again. Flawed as it is, it's still the best country in the world. Oh, and about that "white" house. I'm thinking how about at least some pink shutters.. Or a giant leopard rug. Let's have a cocktail and look at paint samples. Now that's something I can get behind. xoxo P.S. only 7 more days till MADONNA!!! Don't just stand there, let's get to it, voguevoguevoguevogue....... xo

Little Buckaroo..

My Gramma Eve was quite the lady--to know her was to love her. She was of the always perfect hair and pink cheeks kinda gal. Short in statue with a big chest. (hmmm,wonder where I got it from?) She wouldn't be caught dead without her lipstick. When I was about 6, she and Gramps moved to Detroit so Grampa could work with the Millworkers. Thier downstairs flat was somewhere in the area of Schaeffer and Greenfield, if my memory serves me. Gramma found a job at a corner diner and quickly made friends with those who frequented said place, cheerfully serving up greasy breakfasts. I would leave my compadres to enjoy the beach, while I made my way down to vacation with them each summer. But Detroit is so exotic and mysterious I would argue when inevitably someone would dare question my vacation locale. As soon as we hit Bay City, I would find CKLW on the radio and sing loudly, celebrating my 2 weeks of freedom. Swee eee eeee ee eet, sweet city woman!! I also had plenty of cousins to show me around. No one here or up North could understand why I would ever make such a move during the beautiful beachy summer, but, I explained to them that I was lonesome and Gramma and I would take the bus down to Hudsons, and go to Saunders for hot fudge sundaes. I went to the Detroit Zoo, took the boat to Boblo Island and saw Greenfield Village. Bring on the bright, city lights to this small gypsy. More glamour, more glamour!! There were sidewalks and you could roller skate around the block. I made friends with the little black children on the street, and was fascinated by them. (Remember, it's pretty much plain, white bread up north). Gramma used to say that you never knew I was around. Always a plus, I'm sure. As a bookish child, I used to sit in the little courtyard out back and read for hours, only getting up to run thru the sprinkler to cool off, and Gramma would serve me up a popsickle. After she had her afternoon "lay down" and watched her "stories", we would walk up to the corner to Hall's Bar. A dark, smokey hall of a bar that was an unlikely spot for a little girl from Ossineke. But I loved bellying up and ordering my usual. Red pop and plain chips for the little lady. Someone always gave me a quarter for the jukebox and I supplied the tunes for happy hour. Gramma would have two or three cold "shells" and amuse all with her stories and cute jokes --as she was an excellent joke teller, knowing just when to pause and get the laughs. I was so proud of her. "Comical" was a favorite word of hers and we still joke about it, today. Later we would walk back home and get dinner for Grampa. My Gramma was famous for her preference for a Snickers bar for dinner--but Gramps required something more hearty. To this day, I always pass out Snickers bars at Halloween in her honor. Maybe we would all play cards. When Grampa retired, and moved back to Ossineke, we became neighbors again. Ever the party girl, Gramma found a new spot for happy hour. She even dragged Grampa along. After the first frosty mug, she would proclaim, "a bird can't fly on one wing", cueing the bartender to serve 'em up again. And did she love babies. When I had my colicky son, she would rock him for hours and sing the old tunes that she sang to me as a baby. "You are my Sunshine" and "Little Buckaroo" being the favorites. I remember her clutching her rosary and reverently reciting it every Sunday at Mass. The rosary is mine now--being to only thing I ever wanted of hers. Her house was a happy meeting place for getting together and everyone was welcome anytime. I usually stopped by 4 out of 5 mornings for coffee on my way to work, and she could be found up and at 'em making toast and worrying about what to cook for lunch, probably givin' Grampa hell for something or another. And she made the BEST pineapple upside down cake. But old age is not alway kind. Even after developing diabetes (HELLO -OO Snicker bar diet), she remained cheerful and optimistic. It wasn't long after Grampa passed, that she joined him. After 60 years of marriage, how could she be here without him? It was a sad day, but time for her to join in the big card game with Gramps. Years later I miss her and remember her often. I like to think of her as a little angel on my shoulder. One with a smile, frosty mug of beer and a Snickers bar. Love always. xoxoxo

Crazy......

It's Halloween! I've read that it commercially outsells Christmas. Crazy, huh? I think it's appeal is on a much different level. Christmas is so much harder and requires more responsibility overall. Somehow Christmas makes us feel required to maintain a semblance of spirituality and generosity. Red and green and gold and silver are hopefully spirit lifting and supportive of the season. Halloween gives us no such pressure with all that black and even thoughtfully throws in the orange to kinda match up will fall. Halloween encourages us to get in touch with our darker sides and has all the gore to support it. Escapism that is legal! Yard decorating has reached crazy levels with the lights, skeletons, pumpkins and those obnoxious blow up thingies. Artistic expression, just the same as some costumes, I guess. Movies have explored every possible horror--or so I'm told. I walked out of the Exorcist totally nauseated and have not sat thru a horror flick since. Not exactly a great choice for a date movie, however, I did run right out and buy the book and used my own imagination to fill in the blanks that were too visual for me to handle. And my curiosity was suffiently piqued enough to corner our priest and quiz him on the demonic possession phenom. After He recanted true stories of some such cases, I decided that once again, the truth is always scarier than anything we can dream up. Once I saw a flick called, "It Came from Within" at a drive in during High School. Between the usual drive-in antics, (thank God for Boone's Farm) we viewed HUGE leeches that came from within a persons house and dropped out of faucets and shower heads at very inconvenient times--like anytime would be good. The movie didn't scare me, but I abhor leeches to this day. Horrors like war, addiction, starvation, politics, gnomes, natural disasters, plagues, reality t.v. etc. are what truly scares the bejesus outta me. And another thing. Is it just me, or has Halloween turned into an "adult" holiday? With the exception of poor Charley Brown, all Halloween flicks are rated R, and will surely eff up the innocent babes. I had a total of 3 trick or treaters last year, and they were delighted with the full size snickers bars that I handed out. In my old sub, it was not unusual to have say, 200 of the little beggars yellin' at my door. They were mostly cute except the ones old enough to drive, smokin' a square, with no costumes, and no manners either. Can I at least get a Trick or Treat out of you? Have you heard of thank you? But the risk of them slashing your tires or soaping your windows forced you to comply with the goods. Or how about the mom's carrying the infants, faces painted like bunnies with not a tooth in their head to chew candy yet. Okay, mom, if the candy is that important to you--here it it. Probably the most exercise she had since last year, with the exception of conception. Hang on there and I'll get a sip of milk for the little one. And for heaven sake, it's 30 degrees and sleeting, could you put a hat on the kid? Do children still go to those parties where you bob for apples and tell ghost stories? Being blindfolded and touching a peeled grape "eyeball"? Or are all the good parties at the bars where the women are encouraged to dress as tarts and the men are encouraged to ogle? Prizes and jello shots for the most skin!!! My son reminded me of a Halloween haunted house we went to ONE time. Again, first and last for me. It was absolutely horrifying. Stuffy hallways with strobe lights and monsters grabbing you. I hated it and the kids were petrified. Looking up to me to navigate this thing for them was a big mistake. Near tears, we all exited safely, NEVER to go back. There is no way a child could have handled it. I guess cider mills with petting zoos are the new haunted houses. Fall beauty with sugar and confined farm animals, being the fears we know. Enjoy your Halloween in your own way....xoxo

Girl's night out.....

Some of my girlfriends organized a pub crawl this past Saturday in Chelsea and I joined in the fun. Hell, I love to party and the girl talk is usually amusing, so I figured what the hey. Now, you can probably guess that I have put in plenty of time in this arena--and was outstanding at it back in the day. The glory days of disco found us chickies dressed to the nines, drinkin' and dancin' our butts off. Seein' and being seen. Not to mention flirtin' and hookin' up--it seemed so easy and natural back then. The music was invigorating and the dudes were mostly polite partners that were not afraid to spring for a few cocktails in exchange for convo and dances. In a small town, as known party girls, we were minor celebs. (I told you it was a small town!) Preparations for Saturday night would begin on Monday after the fog from the previous weekend lifted. Matters of dress were of paramount importance. We would shop the sale racks at the very limited shopping venues and cull out treasures that could work for our next appearance. Swapping clothes with each other was necessary and we would never be seen in the same thing twice. Starting on Thursday you would start whatever "diet" was goin' on at the time. Usually just jello, or maybe hard boiled eggs. This would let you drop five pounds or so, so that the old bod would be optimum by Saturday at 10:00 p.m. Highlights and perms were carefully timed to be just right. Upon entrance to the bar (there was only one disco) we parted the crowd much like old Moses and the Red Sea. Our regular table was ready and waiting. The disco dudes circled the table like sharks jockeying for posititon. We again had to remind them that we just got there and many bevies would be required to loosen up up. Sloe gin fizzes and lime vodka collins rounds would mysteriously show up and we didn't ever have to get out our wallets. Ah, yes. Soon the "good" tunes would have us all out on the lighted floor under the big ball. There we would pretty much stay until the end of the night stopping only to get another drink and change partners. At cockroach light time, invariably we would be invited to a house party. It was more prudent of us to hold out for the guys who would spring for breakfast. All that starvation followed by drinking strong cocktails and dancin' had left us quite weak. So after breakfast decisions, (usually cottage cheese) we would head home to bed. It was usually noted that although we found top shelf in the bar, we were actually cheap dates in the restaurant. Hey, we do what we can. Promises were made to "see ya next weekend!", where we would do it all over again. Definitely, those we the good times... Fast forward to last Saturday. Pubs were crowded and everyone looked about 12 years old. No one cared about 15 girls out and about and ready to rip it up. We pushed together our own tables. No one send over a round. The karaoke sounded miserable. No one made a move on us. Just ogling and a few winks. Comments about MILF's and cougars were whispered. Not one offer for breakfast--thank heavens, it was 2:30 a.m.! We drove our old asses home and ate snacks without a care of fat, carbs and bloating. Next weekend? Maybe some fall closet organizing, reading, a good movie, or possibly making chili. The crawl is set to be an annual thing, so I have a whole year to get ready for it. Thank God and Mary. Hope its doesn't fall on the night I have to make chili. xoxoxo

You can leave your hat on......or not

Okay, so I'm not a modest person. Never have been. No shock to anyone who has ever known me for more than five minutes. Those rules happen to be ones I personally didn't get to vote on. Now, I am not saying that I am an exhibitionist, (well-l-l-l-l-l) but I just didn't grow up with any body shame. We thought our bodies were beautiful and thus had healthy body images. Our house was plenty large enough for the five of us, but with only one bathroom, there wasn't much room for shyness or modesty. Or much else, really. But we made it work. Our twa-lette was surrounded with that thick distorted glass block so you could do that business in relative privacy. A regular bathtub and shower with a non see thru curtain. We had a double sink with a large mirror that easily accommodated two. And it was not unusual for all of us to be runnin' in and out of there at the same time. It was a synchronicity that Dancing with the Stars couldn't have choreographed. Even with an attempt at a hygiene schedule, inevitably, it would end up getting crowded. We did our best at preserving decorum, but it wasn't easy. Dad was in boxers, and Mom maybe a bra and half slip. Very cat on a hot tin roof-ish. And glamorous to boot. The rest of us possibly just wrapped in towels, or underwear. Everybody just efficiently takin' care of business. So what's the problem? I didn't think there was one till friends stayed over and maybe bore witness to some of the "family bathroom tango". Apparently in some families, robes were always worn by all just in case someone should get a peek at someone else. Whoo. I think Adam and Eve had the right idea, and it must have been a much more temperate climate in Eden--but still. Then that damned old snake had to go and ruin it for the rest of us. Demureness and reticence was born. (okay! I Wiki'd it.) That's not so bad, but what I really hate is the shame that was spawned. Our bodies are natural and should be viewed as such. Angelia Jolie is getting shit for nursing a baby in public. What? Isn't that what the "fun bags" were meant for? I got some of those same looks when I nursed my son. Curiosity--okay, disgust--not. Even in the art I favor, there is a bit of a theme. I mean, a bowl of fruit, some cute puppies, or a lovely reclining nude? Again, anyone who knows me will say that I prefer the nudes. Nude nail polish? Nude hosiery? Nude wall color? No way jay. Don't be crazy,baby. But a little skin, if it offends no one, in my own space, should never be a problem. That's just me--doin' what comes naturally......xoxo

Into the mystic.......

October greetings to you all! I came across a really strange, but fun website the other day while mindlessly surfing around. Being that it is October with all things fall and Halloween, I thought I'd share. It's called "The Vampire Name Generator". Crazy, huh? Apparently there are alot of people that feature themselves vampires or just need a name for playing those kind of weird role playing games. Hmmmm. You just plug in your name (amidst lots of little flying bats), and it comes up with a name from "The Great Archives." Now, I have never considered myself vampire-like in any way, but this is too cool. Maybe I actually have a dark side! Curiosity almost killed this kitty, and I gave up my name. The all knowing vampire powers came back with this alter identity for me. It read like this: The Great Archives have determined that you have gone by the identity: Empress of the Night, Known in some parts of the world as: Aphrodite of the Banat, The Great Archive Record: A true child of the night, making merry of the everything that is light. Hmmm. Apparently I was a love goddess! in some minor region of Transylvania that skipped around all night and laughed at all that is light. Yowza! Hope that didn't include lite cottage cheese, salad dressings, fudgesickles, etc. Or maybe those are not concerns of a vampire. All that roaming about all night and blood diets probably keep you skinny! Also on this web site a similar search provides you with your "fairy name". Way more my style I figured, so what the hey. Turns out my fairy name is: Tangle Rainbowshimmer. Well, now. It goes on to also include these facts: She is a fortune bringer. She lives in the bottom of tangled gardens and in hedgerows. She is only seen when the first flowers begin to blossom. She wears tangled dresses of multicoloured petals. She has multicoloured wings like a butterfly. Okay, then. Like making your horoscope--and I rarely read that--fit, by the same method, I will translate my fairy name. As a retired hairdresser, the tangle part is appropriate.Don't know about that fortune bringer thing, but I do feel fortunate, overall. And Rainbowshimmer is so me. Sort of an homage to all my gay friends! And I covet shimmer like a raven, and tend to want to take anything shimmery, back to my nest. If you have ever seen my garden it is most definitely of the tangled sort. I love spring and await my lillies and tulips , so that makes perfect sense to me. And multicolour? Anyone who knows me realizes my extreme love of COLOR!! Ah, what simple fun. Go ahead and try it for yourself. The website is: emmadavies.net/vampire. Or just look up The Vampire Name Generator--just make sure it's the exact one, cuz I tried another and it wasn't as detailed. Let me know YOUR vampire and or fairy name and if you think it in any way applies. I would consider being Aphrodite of the Banat or Tangle Rainbowshimmer for Halloween if I didn't already have my heart set on Beth the Bounty Hunter. What do you think of all this? xooxo