Poetic Renderings Of A Diva

Sunday, February 26, 2006


Don Knotts
July 21, 1924 - February 24, 2006

While recovering from something similar to a hit-and-run, I was saddened to hear today that Don Knotts passed away over the weekend. As a kid growing up in small town MS, we frequently watched "The Andy Griffith Show". My Dad, the gardner reminded me a lot of the younger Andy Griffith with his black wavy hair and easy smile. Barney, his goofy sidekick never failed to give us all a good laugh with his crazy antics.

My favorite "Barney" episode was where he got dates for him and Andy with the "fun girls from Mount Pilot". As usual, the evening did not go exactly as Barney had intended and the rift he had with Thelma Lou only worsened when she got sight of them entering the courthouse. Naturally, Helen Crump, Andy's steady girl was along and this only got poor Andy into a jam. That's the thing about fun girls......they're fun but can be trouble. *winks*

Listed below is a list of 18 things I will always remember about the character Don Knotts embodied for so many years and even today still through the joys of syndication:

1. Bud nippin
2. The tweed suit
3. The bullet in his left pocket
4. Mrs. Mendlebright and the hot plate
5. The sidecar
6. Stretching Barney with a harness in the closet
7. Barney's karate
8. Barney in drag
9. The tainted cooler water
10 Barney's big solo in the choir
11.Barney locked in the ceil - AGAIN
12.The big bank robbery
13.Barney tickets Aunt Bea
14 Barney teaches Opie how to wrestle
15.Barney deputizes Otis, Goober and Gomer
16.Barney throws Andy and Helen an engagement party
17.The blue plate special
18.Barney buys a car

Although Don Knotts went on to star in "Three's Company" in the 70's-80's as the pesky landlord, Mr. Roper, along with several movies, for me, he will forever be Barney Fife. So long ole friend, rest well.


Tuesday, February 21, 2006

More Words From The Crapper


I have been blessed to grace this earth for 40 years. Of that 40 years, I have been kidded, mocked, shunned and even scolded at different times, by many, for doing two things in abundance and consistently: the use of ketchup and toliet paper. (not at the same time mind you but back in the hard days of ramen noodles when out of paper towels or napkins, toliet paper was a multi-purpose product.)

Anyway, should my home come up short on one of those two items, this ole gal can get mean. There are not many things that I do not eat ketchup on, much to my in-laws chagrin (I AM from MS after all) and the need of TP is redundant. Since my spouse does most of the grocery shopping, thankfully and blessedly he keeps us stock and if we start running low, he quickly makes a trip by our neighborhood Kroger, quick stop or any other kind of market just to make sure the vibe of our home remains a happy one. Smart man.

Given this background information, I have to share two things. A story from my past and a story from today's Yahoo News. I'll start with the story from my past because this blog is all about ME anyway.

I grew up in the country on 25 acres of prime Mississippi soil. My Daddy was a huge gardner and was known for his "green thumb". The garden backed up to our backyard and my Mom, being the good southern woman she is, had planted lots of flowers and had made a place for us girls to sunbath. I spent a lot of hours back there, sunning and listening to tunes on my radio which was stuck in the window of my bedroom, turned to full volume so everyone, including the scarecrow could rock with me. It was hard to hear over the hum of the tractor anyway.

Well buried in the backyard was our septic tank; not uncommon to homes in the country. One summer, I noticed the ground splitting in certain areas and mentioned this to my Dad. He checked it out and decided we needed to call our local Roter-Rooter specialist. For those of you who are not familiar, this is the guy that comes out to your house, digs down to your septic tank, attaches a hose and hauls all of your shit out of the backyard. We kids used to call him the Poop-a-nator only to have our hands slapped by Moma.

Anyway, he shows up and confirms, yes we have a shit problem. He does his business and as he is handing my parents the bill, he inquires as to what kind of toliet paper we use. Moma immediately spoke up and said Charmain, of course. (After all, it is THE king of tp). He then informs us that we might want to think about changing brands. Apparently, because Charmain has a thicker ply, it tends to stop up septic tanks and is harder to breakdown. He mentions that our tank was unusually full. Suddenly all eyes were on ME. I was like, "what?"

After he leaves, my parents inform me that my need for the cleanest fanny in the county, while admirable is now on restrictive tp use. I would only be alloted one roll for a TWO week period. Trust me, for a kid with a tp fetish, this is harsh and unusual treatment. My sister, Jill, walked around with a smirk on her face for days and called me "ass wipe" while my parents were out of ear shot. I cried. I pleaded. I begged. All to NO avail. I took more showers in that two week period than a cast off of survivor. When the first water bill came in and it had doubled, Moma handed me a nice 12 pack of Charmain and told me to have at it. My Dad would still curse and stomp around when the Roter-Rooter guy visited once a year but it was a lot cheaper than using half the water in the county.

Sadly, this story is told at all gatherings and I am still shunned, mocked and scolded....no longer by my parents, but by my own spouse!! Hince my need to share the following:

According to officials, some guy named Franklin Crow, 56, from Moss Bluff, FL, murdered his roommate, Kenneth Mathews, 58 over the weekend. The reason? Apparently, Kenneth had either used all or failed to purchase toliet paper. Franklin, either because there was no tp for his own personal use or because he was sick of Kenneth's over-use, decides he needs to teach Kenny boy a leason. He does this by blundgeoning him to death with a sledgehammer and claw hammer but not before pulling a shot gun. The article states that the argument started at the beginning of the weekend and culminated in Kenneth's death on Sunday evening.

I had only one thought after reading this: which character in this scenario would I be? Hmmm......note to self......pick up toliet paper on the way home from work. Just in case.

Saturday, February 18, 2006

***DISCLAIMER****

I CAN NOT TAKE CREDIT FOR WRITING THIS BRILLIANT PIECE OF WORK ALTHOUGH I WILL SAY SHE BEAT ME TO THE PUNCH. JUST LAST NIGHT I WAS RANTING OVER THE HIDIOUS COSTUMES THE ICE DANCERS CAME WITH. READ AND ENJOY! A GIRL AFTER MY OWN HEART!


Mr. Blackwell, you're wanted at the Palavela
By NANCY ARMOUR, AP Sports Columnist
TURIN, Italy (AP)


-- There's something very bad going on in figure skating.
Not the new judging system -- no one understands that enough to know if it's good or bad. Not the abundance of techno-pop music. Not even the exit of Michelle Kwan.
No, it's much, much worse. It's Halloween on Ice.
Have you seen some of the frightful costumes? Oh, the horror! Enough Day-Glo to light up a small village. Tattered numbers that look like ragbag rejects. More fringe, sequins and sparkles than even a circus act would find acceptable. And colors so wild they're not even in Crayola's 64-pack.
"What I find pretty much unwatchable is all the (stuff) that's on the costumes," said Jef Billings, a longtime designer who has dressed Peggy Fleming, Michelle Kwan and Sarah Hughes, as well as Canadian Jeff Buttle, the men's bronze medalist.
"You need to wear the costume, the costume shouldn't wear you," said Billings, also director and costume designer for the Smucker's Stars on Ice show.
"If the costume is overwhelming, either visually or physically, that's what you're looking at. I think that's the problem with some of the extreme costumes that are out there."
Extreme is the politest way to describe some of the duds on the ice. For every elegant costume Kwan, Sasha Cohen or Buttle wears, there are about eight so tacky even Britney Spears wouldn't touch them.
In the pairs free skate, Tatiana Volosozhar wore an aqua-blue dress with filmy, lighter-colored wisps coming off it while her partner, Stanislav Morozov, was dressed in brown. Maybe they were trying to portray their "Conquest of Paradise" program with him as the ship and her the sea.
Sweden's Kristoffer Berntsson's free skate costume made him look like a purple mummy -- if mummies do velvet. That, or he was channeling the Fruit of the Loom grape. Kevin Van Der Perren of Belgium wore a red, black and silver number with more sparkles than a Vegas showgirl. And what about Vivaldi's "Four Seasons" made silver medalist Stephane Lambiel think zebra print?
Then there's three-time American champ Johnny Weir. For the short program to Camille Saint-Saens' "The Swan," he was dressed, appropriately, as the bird itself. The bottom of his costume was black with cutouts that look like feathers. The silver-and-white top appeared to be covered in feathers, and a red glove on his right hand -- he's dubbed it Camille -- made his arm look like a swan when he raised it.
It was, uh, interesting. And it could have been worse. The designer's idea was to have molting blue feathers running down the left arm, on top of the fishnet.
"I thought that was a little much," Weir said.
You think?
"I do find some of the costumes sometimes are over the top," said Dick Button, the gold medalist in 1948 and '52 who is doing commentary for NBC in Turin. "You almost feel you've been trapped in a windmill in the Metropolitan Opera House costume department."
Even the flower girls and boys, who usually look cute no matter what they're wearing, are a fashion "don't." Their yellow, red and white outfits make the girls look like little Ronald McDonalds and the boys look like they're wearing pajamas.
It's going to get worse before it gets better. That's because ice dance has started.
Armenian ice dancer Anastasia Grebenkina was barely legal in a sheer white number that, it's safe to say, her mother didn't see before she left the house. Bulgaria's Maxim Staviski was in a green-and-purple number that wouldn't even have made the cut for "Men in Tights." And there are no words to adequately describe how hideous Barbara Fusar-Poli and Maurizio Margaglio's black, gold and neon orange costumes were.
So what gives? If figure skating is supposed to be a sport of grace and beauty, what's with all the ugly outfits? And in Italy, home of designer houses like Versace, Armani and Gucci, no less.
"We all have a different idea about what our programs are or the moods we're trying to set," said Jamie Sale, a pairs gold medalist in 2002 who is doing TV work in Turin. "It's your own interpretations of what you're trying to portray."
Figure skating, as we all know from the sport/not a sport debate, is a blend of athleticism and art. You have to have the tough jumps, spins, speed. If you don't look good doing it, though, you can kiss those medal hopes goodbye.
The problem is, there are few requirements for figure skating costumes. You can't skate naked -- though some of the dancers seem to be trying. Certain body parts must be covered and men have to wear trousers. There are even penalties for fashion violations, though whoever's in charge of that appears to be sleeping on the job.
Unlike most other sports, there's no uniform, and no high-tech clothing that makes you spin tighter, jump higher or do footwork faster. It's the whims of fashion that drive costumes, not advances in technology. Men's tuxedos gave way to jumpsuits, then to separate pants and shirts. Wool went the way of the Edsel, replaced by spandex that allows skaters to move.
And as happens in life everyday, whatever the cool kids deem chic quickly becomes all the rage. Those stretch-fabric jumpsuits weren't popular until Olympic gold medalist Scott Hamilton started wearing them.
The Russian ice dancers came up with the idea to put their costumes through the shredder, and now there are wisps and tatters in men, women's and pairs events.
"I asked skaters, `Why does the costume always have all this stuff?' " Billings said. "They said, `Because it makes it look like we're skating faster. My comment was, `Why don't you just skate faster? Is it really about an optical illusion? Or is it really about ability?"'
Billings' solution: Turn loose those snarky commentators from the Oscars, Golden Globes and Grammys on figure skating, and watch the ugly outfits disappear.
"They think they're in their own little insulated world," Billings said. "The minute it starts to affect the results, it will change. ... But, as I always have said, the ugliest costume in the world can end up at the top of the podium, and the prettiest costume can go home last."

Enough Already


I find myself in an odd frame of mind. It's like when you've left the house and you can't remember if you've turned the coffee pot or iron off. You're already too far away to turn around and go back without being late to work, so you continue driving and going through your day hoping and praying that the house will not burn down while you are away. It's just that tiny nagging feeling that won't let up.

ALERT! ATTENTION ALL NEWS MEDIA AND MANIC DEPRESSIVES! ACCIDENTS HAPPEN! They're not necessarily contrived, planned, scheduled, anticipated or even malicious preconceived. They just ARE. It's part of the universe of "shit happens".

Point in case:

1. He accidentially shot the son of a bitch. They were hunting, he was in the wrong place at the wrong time and he splayed him with buckshot pellets. He didn't mean for it to happen, he didn't plan for it to happen - IT JUST DID.

2. She fell coming over the top of the snow bunker.....she had the gold medal but she fell and instead she won silver. She wasn't "show-boating", arrogant nor had she lost focus. She didn't mean for it to happen, she didn't plan for it to happen - IT JUST DID.

3. She just wanted to get the hell out of there. She grabbed the baby and took off in the car without thinking. She wasn't intentionally going out of her way to be irresponsible; she was just panicked and over-reacted. She didn't mean for it to happen, she didn't plan for it to happen - IT JUST DID.

4. He just wanted a little affection......someone who was on his level of thinking and feeling. He didn't mean to do anything inappropriate with minor children; he just needed some friends. He didn't mean for it happen, he didn't plan for it to happen - IT JUST DID.

5. She was just tired. It's hard being a pop-princess; show after show. Sometimes you just need a little help. She didn't mean to fool everyone by lipsyncing the lyrics; she just needed a break. She didn't mean for it to happen, she didn't plan for it to happen (okay, well maybe in this instance she did plan ahead) - IT JUST DID.

Yep, that's right folks. Accidents happen and it's time we explained this to our media people so they can really start work on reporting the really important things instead of the everyday accidents and occurances that happen as a human being living in the year of our Lord, 2006, on the planet Earth.

I just read in this month's issue of Vogue that the spring "look" for 2006 is very little make-up, especially eyes with only a touch of lipstick. Now this my friends, is NO accident!

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Scientific, Tried-N-True Politics Test Results

Another mindless survey, another 20 minutes lost forever as I contemplate my responses. Here is my surprising score:

You are a:


Social Moderate (55% permissive)

Economic Liberal (31% permissive)

You are best described as a:

Democrat

You exhibit a very well-developed sense of right and wrong and believe in economic fairness.

(Say it ain't so!! My Moma would be horrified! NOTE! I have not voted Democratic in the last three elections; instead I chose the lesser of two evils. Until they make Dick Clark president, I'll probably keep doing that. Wouldn't that be nice though? Everyone could hear the issues and then the audience could vote and the majority would rule. We could call it Democracy!)

If you'd like to try your hand, go to www.okcupid.com to take this test and other fun, mindless, time-wasting tests.

Friday, February 10, 2006

Wise Words From The Crapper


Given my propensity for being a wise-ass in most situations, I had to share these examples of wise-asserisms. I must give credit where credit is due and let you know they were imparted to me by Suzie Q, Portland, Oregon's hottest party girl.

* "Friends don't let friends take home ugly men."
Women's Restroom, Starboards, Dewey Beach, DE

* Beauty is only a light switch away."
Perkin's Library, Duke University, Durham, NC

* "If life is a waste of time, and time is a waste of life, then let's all get wasted together."
Armand's Pizza, Washington DC

* "No matter how good she looks, some other guy is sick and tired of putting up with her shit."
Men's Restroom, Linda's Bar & Grille, Chapel Hill, NC

* "At the feast of ego, everyone leaves hungry."
Bentley's House of Coffee and Tea, Tucson, AZ

* "It's hard to make a comeback when you haven't been anywhere."
Written in dust on the back of a bus, Phoenix, AZ
(NOTE: OKAY this one WASN'T from the crapper, but it's damned funny.)

* "If voting could really change things, it would be illegal."
Revolution Books, New York, NY
(Good point)

* "Express Lane, Five Beers Or Less"
Sign over urinal, Ed Debevics, AZ

AND MY PERSONAL FAVORITE:

* "If it has tires or testicles, you're going to have trouble with it."
Women's Restroom, Dicks Last Resort, Dallas TX


Monday, February 06, 2006

Queer Eye For The Tragically Fashioned Challenge


While shopping at one of my favorite sassy girl stores over my lunch hour today, I decided to do something I try not to do very often - eat fast food burgers. Being a Mississippi girl, my Daddy made a point to bring us up with the notion that you're not living high off the hog, if you're not eating a good side of beef from time-to-time. The bills are due and we just added another debt with the big tractor out back, but by gosh, we're going to eat steak for dinner! (Note: this is probably where my taste for the finer things in life got it's start. I'm still pissed no one bothered to give me the manual on how to pull off champagne tastes on a Big K budget. Rat Bastards!)

Anyway, back to the story.......I had just left TJ Maxx and was contemplating visiting Bed Bath and frickin Beyond but realized I needed to end the spree, get back to work and feed my face. Being in Cool Springs over lunch is tricky at best when maneuvering to get where you are going. In the distance, I saw those glorious golden arches rising into the snow cloudy day. Ah.....a quarter pounder with cheese, hold the pickle.....NOT part of my daily point plan for Weight Watchers......but since I didn't eat breakfast and I can eat lettuce for dinner.....move out of my way! I glide inbetween two SUV's trying to out run one another and zip right into the McDonald's parking lot. It's 12:15 and the line is wrapped around the front of Playland. I'm jazzing to some music and suddenly it happened! Yes.....it was......a fashion tragedy. Horrible, gut-wrenching, painful to the eye. I quickly grab my imitation Ray Bans to cover the glare. It wasn't working!!! Where are the 5 Fab when you need them?????

Think Iraq Meets Vegas. My Momma taught me to never stare, point or wear white after Labor Day. I've managed to master two of the three but I have always had problems with the first. I stared a hole through Ms. Faux Pas butt because I was still having trouble believing she left the house - better yet - had even took the time to THINK about this outfit.

Since I want to remain as politically correct as I can be, I will not name any certain race or physical feature - it's unimportant. What was important was the tragic display of fashion sense. Enough already!! you say, just tell us....what was she wearing?? Camouflage from head to ankle.....there's where Vegas took over with the 5 inch stiletto heels. We also can NOT forget the "bling" gold hoop earrings that would have easily been used as wings to propel her upward if a strong wind blew. Top that off with red lipstick the color of ketchup and a very large rhinestone shoulder bag. (I'll give her 2 points for the lipstick.) I love all that sparkles but you could have hidden two of the seven dwarfs or one kid from Alabama in that gold rhinestone bag. Tre' ugly!

Being an ample sized gal, I pain myself in knowing what looks good on me and what does not. You can ask anyone that has lived with me for 5 minutes that if I do not think it works on my body, I ain't wearing it. Period. End of discussion. Being ample, you learn these tricks. How to hide flaws, make yourself appear smaller and taller. You can take 15 pounds off with just the right outfit. I have ZERO patience for thin women who can go into any store and purchase ANY piece of clothing and it fit and it look like a bad day at Kathy Lee Gifford's sweat shop.

Thin women be warned!! Just because you can get your skinny ass in it, does NOT mean it should be worn! The utterly distasteful display of "I'm thin and you're not" has set me ablazed. If I were a size 2, please! Vogue would ship directly to me for a fitting. Just because the girl is ample, does not mean she doesn't window shop at Vicky's Sex Spot......that would be Victoria's Secret for those of you who do not know.

I was still dry heaving by the time I got to the window and managed a feeble, "quarter pounder with cheese, hold everything please".

Sunday, February 05, 2006

Blue Hawaii


Everyone knows that for music, I'm a "Beatles" but for glam and persona, I'm all about "THE King". I proudly display the "king of time" clock in my office, (swinging hips and legs included) purchased one stifling, hot summer day in Memphis at Graceland with a former admirer that was sweet enough to purchase the "Takin Care of Business" full day package. I still get chills when I remember boarding the "Lisa Marie" and the feel of the teal and white leather chairs where the King reclined while in the air. Yes, those were the glory days.

One of my favorite "cookie cutter" movies from his days on film is "Blue Hawaii". He was so handsome as Chad Gates (no relation to Bill) returning home from the military to run his family's pineapple business. The military had changed Chad's heart and he would rather spend his time surfing and romping the beaches, singing and necking with Maile, his girl. His parents were devastated that he was no longer interested in running the family pineapple company.

Such it is these days. Just this week, Dole announced the closing of it's major pineapple factory in 2008. They state that sagging revenues and labor costs have made the decision imminent. Apparently it's cheaper for them to get their supply on the open market, which probably boils down to some Hispanic farmer in Mexico that has learned how to grow something that LOOKS like a pineapple. Hell, smother them in tequila and it all tastes the same!

In other words, the Polynesian Morman's have decided they'd rather surf, sing and practice their hula lessons instead of growing pineapples. What is the world coming to? Some things you come to expect in life. If you want oranges, you go to Florida. If you want peaches, you go to Georgia. If you want good herb, you go to Cheatham County. If you want a car up on blocks, you go to Mississippi. It's life's checks and balances. So yes, if you want pineapple, you go to Hawaii, do not pass go and collect your boat drink at the door!

Next thing you know, they'll announce there will be no more country music in Nashville........oh wait!