Crazy Small Cars...

Cars are just getting so tiny now a days aren't they? With the success of the Mini Cooper and the Smart Car, the Car Manufacturers are throwing together all kinds of tiny boxy cars out on the road..and I mean teeny tiny too.
The other day I saw one of them Toyota Yaris's.. dang that thing is just so small when I shot past it shimmied like I was a semi blowing by..and I drive an Escort!
The Yaris, its one of those alternative fuel source cars, friction... right? A couple of scoots on the carpet and the thing can go all day...
-- Even Ford is getting into the game- they have reintroduced the Fiestiva, Anglo-cizing the name to Fiesta as we Americans obviously can't make the leap from Fiesta to Fiestiva --these things are still made in Mexico so to cross boarder they put them in the trunk of a Mustang..but the good news if they use a SUV, they can fit like 20 Festivas plus all the guys who work the assembly line in one trip...

Those stinkin' Smart Cars, people be bragging about owning a Smart Car.."its cute, its fuel efficient, I can pack into my carry-on suitcase so I don't have to rent a car at the Airport for trips..blah, blah.."
Yes even in cyberspace you can hear my eye roll can't you?
How "Smart" can these people be? Heck they just bought what amounts to a "cute" lunch box with 4 wheels for about 20 thou..But hey it comes in PLAID!! So worth it right?



What I don't get is how people are willing to pay big bucks for these things, especially the Mini Cooper--those little Matchbox cars are what like $35k right?
Next thing you know we'll be shelling out $30 grand for what amounts to a unicycle with an airbag..holding a lawnmower engine between our knees and the only way we can take a passenger is by piggy back...you know you'll do it too..just so you can brag about the fuel economy and how you're saving the planet and all....

Blogity Blog, Crapity Crap: the random musings, observations, obsessions and outright rants of a 40 something, thrice married, Mother of 4 with a low income but high expectations. I have no stinking time to write a blog but its cheaper than psychotherapy or shoe shopping....

Walk Your Dog, Down, Down, Down....

Out of breath like a fish outta water...




Drained like my battery is outta power..



Need to stop, plug in and slow down..



Gotta walk my dog-down-down-down..



I tap my meridians and Awaken my spine,..



To move into a space that is clearly mine..



Find a place to breathe in and out and in and out..



To stop and look with in and out and in and out..



Breathe into that space-

Breathe into my place-



Heartache, my face showing a frown..



So I gotta walk my dog-down-down-down..



Seeking my edge with grace..



Breathing in and out, bliss on my face..



Breath and movement-gifts abound..



Gotta walk my dog-down-down-down..



For Andrea,Rachel,Herb, Beth and my Body Language Yoga Instructor Classmates..

Thanks for the inspiration and persperation..
 
 
Blogity Blog, Crapity Crap: the random musings, observations, obsessions and outright rants of a 40 something, thrice married, Mother of 4 with a low income but high expectations. I have no stinking time to write a blog but its cheaper than psychotherapy or shoe shopping....

The Stetson Over the Bar

Tonight in the Honky Tonk,


She sits quiet in a smokey haze..

Dolly's skirts just as fluffed out as always,

Her petticoats rustle. the hems are still starched.

The mirror ball reflects the bright disco lights glinting off the rhinestones on her glasses.

She's staring off somewhere past the tired bar band...

Really more of a somewhen than a somewhere...

Beyond the swirling, twirling dancers....

The young folks showing off in long line dances...

Dolly is lost, marooned in the past, of years gone by...

For all their years together that little country bar was their place to be.

A tricky little thing called memory parts its silvery curtain.

And Roy is here with her in memory his hand on hers, Dolly thinks of the first time she laid eyes on him.

Roy so tall and young, his Stetson brim tilted so low he had to peer at her like James Dean-making her heart skip a beat or three

Soon he was holding her whirling and twirling and doing the two step.

Seemingly carelessly but he carefully counted the paces smiling the whole time, but scared snotless of stepping on a toe.

The parquet dance floor was soon her little piece of heaven.

Dolly was just 17 ...

Climbing out of the window as he held the ladder...

Roy holding her hand as they ran to the car, laughing, smiling stealing a kiss or two on the way to that Honky Tonk.

To dance that 2 step and to hold each other close, not a sliver of light between them.

Dolly can still taste the smell of him, sweat and Aqua Velva.

In those days the barkeep littered the floor with sawdust, Dolly had to watch where she stepped, tobacco juice would spoil her white suede buck boots.

Roy always enjoyed when she stole a dab or 2 from Momma's bottle of Channel no5, a lingering scent of her from laying her head on his shoulder. To keep him company after he took her home.

When Dolly smiled at Roy, she lit up his entire world.. Like a shop's window during Christrmas.

Roy hung her name in the window of his heart and soon placed a ring on her finger.

So just as soon as they could, she again snuck out the window and down the ladder he held, tossing a small suitcase to land quietly in the bushes below, not to the Honky Tonk directly, but by way of the J.O.P.

When the Justice saw it would take all their money he did the deed for free.



Together they grew a family, the kids, the car notes and a mortgage of course. Many years of hardships but many more of much better than most.

But still they always found a way to be at that Honky Tonk every Saturday Night, whirling and twirling and doing the 2 step.

Time did pass and their smiles created creases and wrinkles as they are want to do.

But that never bothered them, their love grew and blossomed anew with each trip to the dance floor, their parquayed piece of heaven.



One night Roy left his pills on the kitchen counter as he shifted his stuff from his work-a-day to his pearl button shirt and then to straighten his bolo tie.

With the wrinkles came other infirmities that come almost as bonuses for tenure on this planet.

And while out on the dance floor Roy suddenly stops, a grimmace on his face...

He clutches at the memory of the bottle.... He gasps his last breath as Dolly's eyes fill with horror and clutches him as he slides down to the floor.



For the funeral they closed that little Honky Tonk, no whirling, or twirling or busting of broncos.

The owner retired Roy's Stetson to a spot over the bar, a place of honor.

Still, each week Dolly comes back, her hair done up high, and a little more pancake to fill in the lines..



Layers and layers of stiff, white crinolines rustling no more..boots shines bright and her faded but crisp skirts that lie so still...

Sitting up on her bar stool wanting to get out on the parquet dance floor, her eye on Roy's Stetson over the bar, just one more visit, just one more..
She waits to join Roy up on Heaven's Dance Floor....
 
this is an old performance piece circa 1998 so I think....
 

Blogity Blog, Crapity Crap: the random musings, observations, obsessions and outright rants of a 40 something, thrice married, Mother of 4 with a low income but high expectations. I have no stinking time to write a blog but its cheaper than psychotherapy or shoe shopping....

My 30 year affair with Stephen King

The other day I stopped while shopping at "my" Krogers (funny how we are possessive of our neighborhood grocery stores..) by the book table and once again mulled over purchasing Stephen King's most recent doorstop sized offering: "Under the Dome" and after a considerable mental debate (verbal would have drawn unwanted attention-although I could have pretended to be on my Bluetooth) placed it in my cart. I drove the ginormous paperback around whilst still debating about buying it as I selected celery and other produce...just so you know, Steve and I have had an affair now for about 30 years or so...I am sure that this would come as a surprise to Steve and even more so to his wife Tabitha. I am not saying our relationship has been a bed of roses (specifically Rose Red or Rose Madder) but he's been there for me ever since I picked up a tattered copy of "Carrie" at age 14.


I was hooked...bagged, tagged and on the front bumper for the next 30 years. And then there was "Christine"..."Christine was simply the best book I had ever read up to that point...and quite unlike anything I had read before including the naughty Jackie Collins novels and the James Michener monstrosities I would swipe from Mom and read with a flashlight under the covers.
Steve was cool, he didn't pretend to be cool or hip, he was obviously and inertly cool and he wrote that way. With dialog that rang true, and descriptive that was amazing and occasionally a little naughty too. His stories scared the snot out of me, were downright brilliant and I couldn't wait for more.

Steve and I were hot and heavy for the next fifteen years, I devoured everything he wrote, I couldn't wait to get my hands on his....books. (Yes I know he is a big, goofy looking, ex-school teaching, guitar nerd, but hey he loves the Ramones and so do I) "Salem's Lot" taught me all the important things I needed to know about Vampires and no they didn't sparkle or have amazing abs. "The Shining" made me actually yell out loud, "no Danny don't go in there!!" These were books that not only scared the snot out of me but taught me a lot about character development and how to progress a story line without rushing it.

I remember during my "career" at Hudsons a co-worker loaned me a bunch of SK's I hadn’t read yet and being a broke student I gladly accepted them...one of them being "Cujo". I had gotten about two thirds in when this same person spied me reading in the breakroom.."you seen the movie?"
I said, "not entirely..." and she said "well the little boy dies in the book not like the movie..." I slammed it shut and threw the book at her and stalked out of the room. I have to this day never finished "Cujo" in book or movie form.

Steve was there for me when I was pregnant with Rachael (no she's not Steve's but she may as well be) and I would stay up all night sitting on the side of the bathtub reading the crazily addictive "IT" so I wouldn't wake my sleeping then husband. Wow that is one of the most mind blowing, scariest stories ever to make it to print. I am pretty sure that "IT" somehow warped Rachael in uterine as she is inexplicably terrified of clowns.... somehow the scary, unimaginable horribleness of Pennywise traveled to her psyche via the umbilical cord. Perhaps Rachael's love of animals stems from "Pet Semetary" that I re-read during that time as well. But if I ever catch her traipsing up a hill side with a dead animal in a sack and a shovel in her hand, I will be sure to nip that right in the bud.

Maybe reading "Needful Things" did something to Tarryn too while I was pregnant with her. It would explain a few things..

Stevie and I had our rocky years..but I made it through the "Bachman" books and other off target offerings..."Gerald Game" and "Delores Claiborne" to name a couple.



But as I alluded to earlier I had been burned by Steve before and didn't know if I wanted to invest $14.99 in our relationship...I felt betrayed by him a lot lately and I didn't know if I was ready to trust again. So I continued to work my way around the cereal aisle with "Under the Dome" staring up at me from my cart.



I remember picking up a fresh copy of "Misery", I nearly didn't finish that book because I thought the lead character was a miserable bastard that deserved what he got and really didn't cheer him on in his escape...then the absolutely brilliant movie came out and proved that "Stand by Me" wasn't the only Stephen King book or story that didn't stink up the big screen. "Misery" is also the only SK story that that is better as a movie than a book. The exception that proves the rule. Then came "Tommyknockers" and Steve and I broke up for a while, we had a small argument or at least I did regarding the exceptionally sucky plot and characters and I let him go for awhile.



For a time Stevie would leer at me longingly from book shelves and grocery store checkout lanes...but like a good girl I ignored his advances.



Eventually the "Green Mile" serialized books began to show up on the shelves...and I would glance coquettishly at them and Steve would flirt back outrageously of course.. but I knew that if I read just one and if it was good I would become addicted and wouldn't want to be left waiting the unbearable amount of time it would take until the next one was published....so about half way through the series I caved in out of boredom and bought one. I imagine heroin addiction being easier to beat than those books, I totally mainlined the 3 or 4 already published volumes immediately and found myself in a cold sweat waiting at the Meijers at midnight on release days for the next installment, twitching like a socket licker waiting for my next fix....oh Steve why can't I quit you?

Years pass and many, many literary misses with time mispent and dollars wasted on sloppier efforts put forth by my Stephen.
"Hearts in Atlantis" was one of the better ones but "Dreamcatcher" sealed the deal on our seperation...that vile piece of crap was just plain awful, I just threw up a little in the back of my mouth thinking of it and not in a good way.

I recently tried to get back together with my Stephen after a trip to a used book store. I didn't get past the first couple of chapters of "from a Buick 8" and "Black House" I have kept the books near my bed stand hoping for a reconciliation.....I don't even want to get started on the Dark Tower series, too many unhappy memories there...
I received a copy of "Duma Key" at my Birthday Red Robin Extravaganza a couple years back (yes the "Mahogany Card Incident" a future blog for sure) that I read out of duty, it certianly wasn't his best but it gave me hope for our future (mine and Stephen's of course) together once again.

So I did buy that copy of "Under the Dome" and as I read the first page a familar sensation crept over me, the one where you can't wait to get to the next page and just gobble up the whole book at once, but at the same time you don't want the story to end, you want to savor the experience...the same sensation I felt when I started my all time favorite Stephen book..."the Stand"

I started "Under the Dome" on Sunday and I must say I have taken Steve to bed every night so far and I will admit to more than one nooner with him on my lunch breaks this week...come to think of it I have spent more enjoyable nights in bed with Stephen King than with all of my husbands combined..and sometimes we were all in bed at the same time....

till next time......



Blogity Blog, Crapity Crap: the random musings, observations, obsessions and outright rants of a 40 something, thrice married, Mother of 4 with a low income but high expectations. I have no stinking time to write a blog but its cheaper than psychotherapy or shoe shopping....

Coming soon--

Blogity Blog, Crapity Crap: the random musings, observations, obsessions and outright rants of a 40 something, thrice married, Mother of 4 with a low income but high expectations. I have no stinking time to write a blog but its cheaper than psychotherapy or shoe shopping....