Saturday, June 5, 2010
So Many People Coming Forward
There so many bloggers out there these days. I feel most of them want to get their thoughts, feelings, personal experiences and..confessions which they want to soothe their souls.
They and I find it cathardic to purge, to cleanse to in essence, confess.
What I am finding lately are those who feel so much need to get their "demons" out. On the whole, most "demons" have to deal with depression, post traumatic stress and perhaps ocd. These bear stigmas which should be squelched in society in this day and age. I don't myself know how to eradicate this stigma. It takes, unfortunately people in the public eye to inspire awareness. There have been many celebs who have come forward and have disclosed their personal "hell". I do admire them, but let's be honest and recognize that the celebs are considered cool, and/or eccentric and are "excused". The every day people are considered "not normal".
How do we fight this? How do we erase the stigma?
Monday, September 28, 2009
Fabulous Women, Southern Discomfort -Rhonda
Next to be introduced is Rhonda the saint of the group. Rhonda was old-fashioned, honest true and steadfast. You could always count on her in any situation. No matter what her problems were, she always put her friends' problems first and tried to help in any way she could. She lived in an all black neigborhood and didn't have a prejudiced thought in her mind. She loved her neighbors and always paid them a visit in their homes as most of them were home bound due to one malady or another. She always remembered their birthdays without ever having to write them down. She would take a modest present to them even though she lived on modest means herself.
Her husband, Herbert (who was always referred to as Emperor as he was alpha male at the local VFW). Rhonda also called him Emperor but always with her tongue firmly held in cheek. Sarcasm being one of her specialties even when it was done in a passive-aggressive way. She wouldn't berate him for being late for dinner, but she would "accidently" burn it. She got revenge in her own way and that was just fine with the rest of her friends who admired everything she did.
How would one describe Herbert? Let's start by describing his physiche before describing his demeanor. He was tall. About 6 foot 1 and not classicly handsome. He looked a little like Jackie Gleason's Ralph Kramden and reminded all who knew him as such as well as how he behaved. Although the caveat was that Herbert had a far nastier disposition and never visibally showed remose of any kind. His treatment of him wife was deplorable. He bellowed often and cursed every breath Rhonda took. He never struck Rhonda but caused phsycological damage that sometimes was worse and deeper than the physical kind. And it lasted longer. He would scream for his breakfast, lunch and dinner even if it were to his liking or not. Rhonda took his abuse in stride and how she tolerated that or why boggles the mind. He wasnot considered a decent person except with the boys at the VMW of course.
Herbert and Rhonda's children were terrified of him and would cower when he came home from work at the local ice factory. The ice factory being conveniently located adjascent to the VFW where he always had his after work libations before returning home to torture the wife and kids.
Their children were Morton and Vanda. Very sweet people in theri own right having inheirited their mother's goodness and mild temperment. Morton had been born with the ambilical chord wrapped around his throat which signficntally cut the oxygen to his brain causing hinderences that would define his life until the end. Rhonda would never say the words retarded or challenged. No, those terms would never be acceptable and were regarded as slurs against him. Which no one would ever do. Instead she called him a "blue baby" blue being the color of his scunched face when he emerged from the birth canal. He had his mother's love in a special way as was her nature. He had jet black hair just like his father and unfortunately looked like his father too. If Rhonda's friends could venture an opinion, they would guess Morton was her favorite. He needed more love , care and attention and this he received from Rhonda.
Vanda was a sweet child with a disposition much like her mother's. She was born beautiful with delicate features and curly blond hair that would draw oohs and aahs from everyone who gazed upon her. She was regarded all through childhood and adulthood as the prettiest girl in their small town.
Rough draft;;more about child abuse, pogo stick and such. Also about her having to get a "peace bond" on him late at night.
Her husband, Herbert (who was always referred to as Emperor as he was alpha male at the local VFW). Rhonda also called him Emperor but always with her tongue firmly held in cheek. Sarcasm being one of her specialties even when it was done in a passive-aggressive way. She wouldn't berate him for being late for dinner, but she would "accidently" burn it. She got revenge in her own way and that was just fine with the rest of her friends who admired everything she did.
How would one describe Herbert? Let's start by describing his physiche before describing his demeanor. He was tall. About 6 foot 1 and not classicly handsome. He looked a little like Jackie Gleason's Ralph Kramden and reminded all who knew him as such as well as how he behaved. Although the caveat was that Herbert had a far nastier disposition and never visibally showed remose of any kind. His treatment of him wife was deplorable. He bellowed often and cursed every breath Rhonda took. He never struck Rhonda but caused phsycological damage that sometimes was worse and deeper than the physical kind. And it lasted longer. He would scream for his breakfast, lunch and dinner even if it were to his liking or not. Rhonda took his abuse in stride and how she tolerated that or why boggles the mind. He wasnot considered a decent person except with the boys at the VMW of course.
Herbert and Rhonda's children were terrified of him and would cower when he came home from work at the local ice factory. The ice factory being conveniently located adjascent to the VFW where he always had his after work libations before returning home to torture the wife and kids.
Their children were Morton and Vanda. Very sweet people in theri own right having inheirited their mother's goodness and mild temperment. Morton had been born with the ambilical chord wrapped around his throat which signficntally cut the oxygen to his brain causing hinderences that would define his life until the end. Rhonda would never say the words retarded or challenged. No, those terms would never be acceptable and were regarded as slurs against him. Which no one would ever do. Instead she called him a "blue baby" blue being the color of his scunched face when he emerged from the birth canal. He had his mother's love in a special way as was her nature. He had jet black hair just like his father and unfortunately looked like his father too. If Rhonda's friends could venture an opinion, they would guess Morton was her favorite. He needed more love , care and attention and this he received from Rhonda.
Vanda was a sweet child with a disposition much like her mother's. She was born beautiful with delicate features and curly blond hair that would draw oohs and aahs from everyone who gazed upon her. She was regarded all through childhood and adulthood as the prettiest girl in their small town.
Rough draft;;more about child abuse, pogo stick and such. Also about her having to get a "peace bond" on him late at night.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
FABULOUS WOMEN, Southern Discomfort -Maggie
Magdeleine (Maggie)
"Don't come to my funeral". She would say. To intimidate, to bruise. "Don't you dare come to my funeral and breathe down on my coffin and pretend you give a shit about me!"
Now you've been officially introduced to Magdeleine.
Maggie to her leagues of friends. As they say in the South, Maggie was a "tough nut to crack". Both literally and figuratively. An intensely strong woman in every way. With her you got what you saw. And you'd better be able to handle it. Maggie was a good looking woman in her own way. Not pretty or beautiful, but striking yes that's it: striking. Maggie spent about an hour a day primping herself, as she was not sure what the day would bring. Party? Bask in the sun? No matter the occasion she would be sure to do her daily ritual. Thoroughly tease and back-comb her platinum bleached hair and brush the top just so as to create the perfect boufante and then spray the living shit out of it with a large can of FinalNet. Now for the face. She would slather on a thick foundation that was always 3 or 4 shades darker than natural as she was used to always having a tan year round thanks too the good Lord for tanning beds. Several coats of mascara, maybe about 5 would do the trick before she used the eyelash curler. She'd crimp the still damp lashes until they were pointing upward and slightly back for emphasis as was the style in the early '70s in her town. Baby blue sparkled eyeshadow and rose pink lipstick. "There!" "There I am" She would say to herself as she checked her look in the mirror. Like most women, she didn't feel a naked face was "her"..like most all women, she preferred her made-up self as "her". Which is perfectly understandable as only we females know.
Maggie was not so tall, just 5'5", but her attitude demeanor and presence made you see her as taller. You could definiately say she was ballsy. She was without a doubt the leader..the Alpha female of her group , and the others were damn glad to let her have the steering wheel of their social groups and gatherings. Maggie wouldn't have it any other way.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
FABULOUS WOMEN, SOUTHERN DISCOMFORT
The 1970's. A decade of change. Profound change. The age of women's lib, birth control and free love.
This is my story of some fabulous women. They lived in a small town in the 1970's. Not suffocatingly small, a population about 55,000. Ok, somewhat suffocating. These women are best friends, they are all either separated or divorced as was the custom in that town in the 70's. Anyone who was caught dead having a happy marriage was a drag and were to be avoided.
If I were to pick a movie that would best describe these women's lives, I'd have to say Steel Magnolias. If the Magnolias were inebriated half the time, together all the time and only took a break from smoking when they slept. No, I wouldn't call them Steel Magnolias, I would have to call them, let's say, Titanium Birds of Paradise. Exotic. They'd love that.
First, let me introduce you to Dorothy. Dorothy was a very beautiful and sexy woman, about 5 foot 5 and very curvaceous . She perpetually teetered on high heels, day and night, from season in to season out. Shoulder-length brunette hair which waved naturally, of course. No one could quite carry herself quite like Dorothy and to this day I don't know how Dorothy carried Dorothy as she was almost always pissed to the gills. I can just see her now, prancing up our front walk wearing nothing but a little bikini, big straw floppy hat , high heels and carrying what she always carried in her right hand: a 16 ounce Styrofoam cup filled half with ice and straight Smirnov vodka. If you never saw her visibly drunk, your eyes are better than mine. Just tipsy and giddy and hilarious Never drunk, she was too much of a lady for that.
Dorothy was married to Andy who had family money. In a small town family money meant they can pay all their bills and then still can afford to eat. In this town at that time there wern't big grocery chains. There were small mom and pop stores all over town. And's parents owned two of them and had passed the responsibility and the income from them on to him. Andy was a short, stocky man with slightly balding blonde hair. You could almost say he was attractive. Almost.
None of us had any idea Andy was abusive until one day, one summer he decided beating Dorothy with a loaf of bread while he and she were naked sounded like a good idea. I don't know how she did it, but somehow she managed to grab her keys and run for her brown "woodie" station wagon. She gunned the engine heart beating wildly while the station wagon's back tires spewed loose gravel into Andy's red as a beat face. She made it to my mom's house as fast as was possible. Still naked as the day she was born. There were no clothes in the car so she did the best she could do under the circumstances. She took the elongated double floor mat out of the back floor board and wrapped that around her. If anyone could pull off wearing a floor mat she flat did. She trotted up the walk holding the mat in position to hide her private parts. We pissed ourselves. To this day, Hollywood still cannot possibly conjure up a sight as funny as this.
This is my story of some fabulous women. They lived in a small town in the 1970's. Not suffocatingly small, a population about 55,000. Ok, somewhat suffocating. These women are best friends, they are all either separated or divorced as was the custom in that town in the 70's. Anyone who was caught dead having a happy marriage was a drag and were to be avoided.
If I were to pick a movie that would best describe these women's lives, I'd have to say Steel Magnolias. If the Magnolias were inebriated half the time, together all the time and only took a break from smoking when they slept. No, I wouldn't call them Steel Magnolias, I would have to call them, let's say, Titanium Birds of Paradise. Exotic. They'd love that.
First, let me introduce you to Dorothy. Dorothy was a very beautiful and sexy woman, about 5 foot 5 and very curvaceous . She perpetually teetered on high heels, day and night, from season in to season out. Shoulder-length brunette hair which waved naturally, of course. No one could quite carry herself quite like Dorothy and to this day I don't know how Dorothy carried Dorothy as she was almost always pissed to the gills. I can just see her now, prancing up our front walk wearing nothing but a little bikini, big straw floppy hat , high heels and carrying what she always carried in her right hand: a 16 ounce Styrofoam cup filled half with ice and straight Smirnov vodka. If you never saw her visibly drunk, your eyes are better than mine. Just tipsy and giddy and hilarious Never drunk, she was too much of a lady for that.
Dorothy was married to Andy who had family money. In a small town family money meant they can pay all their bills and then still can afford to eat. In this town at that time there wern't big grocery chains. There were small mom and pop stores all over town. And's parents owned two of them and had passed the responsibility and the income from them on to him. Andy was a short, stocky man with slightly balding blonde hair. You could almost say he was attractive. Almost.
None of us had any idea Andy was abusive until one day, one summer he decided beating Dorothy with a loaf of bread while he and she were naked sounded like a good idea. I don't know how she did it, but somehow she managed to grab her keys and run for her brown "woodie" station wagon. She gunned the engine heart beating wildly while the station wagon's back tires spewed loose gravel into Andy's red as a beat face. She made it to my mom's house as fast as was possible. Still naked as the day she was born. There were no clothes in the car so she did the best she could do under the circumstances. She took the elongated double floor mat out of the back floor board and wrapped that around her. If anyone could pull off wearing a floor mat she flat did. She trotted up the walk holding the mat in position to hide her private parts. We pissed ourselves. To this day, Hollywood still cannot possibly conjure up a sight as funny as this.
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