Wednesday, January 17, 2007

What Becomes A Legend Most


I love the old Blackglama ads, especially the one with a very beat-up looking Lillian Hellman in her later years, the caption reading, What becomes a legend most . . . I like a face with character, except when it is mine, and then I like it to look as if has never been friends with the sun. Of course, it has been intimate with that evil force, good friends, Crisco/baby oil/ suntan oil SPF 0 friends with the sun, and now I stay inside and beg God to spare me the sins of my youth. Or as Joan Rivers said about the great picture of Lillian, It's majestic and powerful and all, but would it have killed her to use a little moisturizer? One of my least favorite people in the entire world used to be friends with my mother and now has lunch with my sister from time to time. This woman is in her late seventies, has a face cracked like the dirt of west Texas and attends all the senior citizen dances where she requests songs like "Pussy Control" and proceeds to do a pseudo-pole dance at whatever VFW Hall is hosting. This would be reason enough to like her, but she has many bad qualities that offset this brash display of confidence including but not limited to having very loud opinions and once telling me that I needed to pull my head out of my ass and wear something that would make me look good for a change. I had the dubious privilege of seeing her perform her dance in the parking lot of Pulidos, a Mexican restaurant in beautiful Mineral Wells, Texas in the middle of one warm afternoon. Turn up the radio, Beth, she yelled. I want to show the world what I got!

I can't say I enjoyed the parking lot dance, but she did, and man I knew she had something that no amount of face cream could impart, that joie de vivre, a confidence that exceeded all understanding. She should be thinking about getting into heaven, my sister said, laughing hysterically. Or knitting. She should be home moisturizing is what I was thinking, but an entire vat of Oil of Olay would have been filed under the catagory of too little, too late. Even so I'd give anything for a drop of that utter lack of concern for what other people think. She kept getting kicked out of the senior dances for obscene behavior, raising hell. I guess that's one way to create a legend.

Michelle's Spell of the Day

"Men always want to protect me. From what, I have no idea." Mae West

Cocktail Hour

Drinking movie suggestion: Office Space

Benedictions and Maledictions

Again, the fur used in this picture is not real! No bunnies or any other animals were harmed. And congratulations to Chris Webber, the newest Detroit Piston! Welcome back, Chris!

10 comments:

Linda Fiorentino said...

AP is a lousy lay.

Pistol Pete Marevich said...

Webber sucks.

Anonymous said...

I wonder what it would have been like to have been a popular kid in school, the reason I say this is because all these years later I don't give a shit about what people think of me, be it for good or for bad. i am comfortable inside my own skin (which if it were my style, i would cover in dead animal pelts)

Your sister's friend sounds like a hoot but how fucked up does she have to be in order to get her joy of life going or is she naturally that way?

Personally I think the proper response when someone tells me to get my head out of my ass (a daily occurrence)is tell them to please get theirs in their ass so they can stop torturing the world.

You're head is fine, white pasty un-sunned look and all so, fuck everyone else(figuratively of course,) but why bother wasting your time being lack of confidence filled, I wish I had some little thing to sit on my shoulder and constantly remind me of all the confidence inspiring things I have done in my life, but it just don't happen that way.

You got it because either you're a crazy sun soaked 70 year old pole dancer with wrinkles to her knee's or you got it because you know that you may not be able to cook worth a lick, drive a car worth a damn but the one or two things you are passionate about are yours and no matter what happens no one can take your ability to perform them away from you.

fortunately being an asshole is wide open and no one wants to be on the top of that so I have every confidence in myself as one of the one or two things i do great. One of the others is being a prick, but that field is not wide open like the other so I really have to fight to stay atop that heap.

You want utter lack of care in what other people think about you? Then quit caring about what you think of yourself, wiggle your insides around a bit, pull and tug at the wrists until the skin you're in becomes comfortable and go on.

Because in every case that shit about what other people think is not under your control anyway so just keep the fuck'em switch handy so you can turn their lights off when they are shining right in your eyes, deer.

Peace

TWM

Glad you like the other but it sadly is a very true story.

Anonymous said...

Great picture! What a great description of your mom's old friend! Has a house fallen on her yet?

Anonymous said...

Surely there's a pill for it, huh? A small, white tablet that we could ingest and feel that air of self assuredness come over us.

Nice thought but nah.

It is the ebbs and flows, the highs and lows...the journey of it all that makes us who we are. Wild, dancing chic sounds fantastic but be assured it has ebbed for her, also. Sometimes we walk (tiptoe even). Sometimes we dance.

Tim said...

I think you tend to remember people like your mother's friend more than you would someone who is quiet and reserved. Brings to mind a lady from here who works on cars. She's big, mean and ugly and I used to hate it when she came around, but she does her own thing and doesn't care what people think about her and that commands a certain respect.
Great post and picture!

paul said...

HotLegsCajunQueen
Foxy Lady D
That old lady mustB atrip
stayoutthesungoodideagoodtip
sunfriednottheway
insidedrinkandplay
warmfurfancyshoes
MightyIsisspreadthenews
R2C2! Shazammmmmmmm!

Anonymous said...

Well, great post! First, I join you in welcoming back Chris! I am quite fond of the Pistons having been a Classy Chassis! But that was a few lifetimes ago! LOL
I just loved the images that kept dancing through my mind as you described this fireball! I so admire that carefree style and utter lack of concern . . . I acquire some of those questionable qualities after a few martinis!
About the quote from Mae West: Men! Always diverting our attention in the wrong direction.

Laura said...

Something that comes along with age is the capability of being yourself no matter what other people might think. When I was young, I held everything in, worried about what other people might think, you know the drill. That lead to physical illness and also taught me a valuable lesson that I believe alot of people learn with age. Now I do and say as I please, and if you don't like it, stay away because this is who I am. It took years to develop this attitude, also it took alot of going through painful experiences to get to this point, but I'm glad I did. I don't say or do things to intentionally piss people off, but I don't hold back my emotions either no matter what others may think of me.

JR's Thumbprints said...

Some old folks never quit being young, and that sometimes bothers me. How anyone can not show the least signs of stress is beyond me. All I have to do is look at my gray hair to know that I'm never comfortable with my surroundings. Also, I have the skin of a chameleon, dry and flaky or extremely oily--depending on the weather. And lastly, I'm the wallflower at a party, attracting the dregs of society my way.