The rules of social discourse have become exceedingly complex; and this is accompanied by a hair-trigger mentality regarding taking offense. This results in the unaware stumbling into a loaded situation and causing problems. Let's face it: Keeping up with being woke is hard work; and these is no handy-dandy clearinghouse enabling a person to learn to be cool or even inoffensive. Case in point: the "okay" sign. How in hell did this wind up being a fascist or racist symbol? Did those clowns manage to get a patent on it because none had thought of doing so before? Anyway, it would really be cool to have some web site to give us not terribly informed people pointers on what things we say or do might have antisocial meanings. It should be basic. There are people, like me, who are just plumb unwoke. And also how about some tips on what is déclassé nowadays? a few years ago there was the movement to take down Confederate monuments in New Orleans. I opined that we should keep General Burreygard (how us Yats refer to General Beauregard) because he was a local figure. Anyway, I got a shit storm of negativity for that. So much for free thought. Yes, Ma'am, it was so. Actually, I felt a little nostalgic about the statchoo: I remember Teen Angel receiving some heavy antipodal exploration while parked in a car in City Park with an up-close and personal view of Genl. B's horse's posterior!* So, in the desire for social harmony; why not a compromise? How about putting Genl. B. in the garage or some museum; but leaving his horse's statue in place? He's the cool one in the scene. The same can be said for Andy Jackson's mount in the Place d'Armes (what some unwoke Orleanians call Jackson Square). Oh well; it looks good against the background of St. Louis Basilica. Right now there's a surfeit of horse's asses in Washington. But that's to be expected, with all at politics going on. It's the local vice there. But those Washingtonians did get one thing very right: they came on like champions supporting the Washington Nationals during the MLB playoffs! OMG! That sea of red towels waving looked like the Alabama stadium during a football game! Lookin' good, Washingtonians! *https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/General_Beauregard_Equestrian_Statue
I guess with time I've developed low frustration tolerance. Besides the 24/7 political coverage and bickering we're regaled with and patronized over, and the increasingly unpredictable weather (winter storms now given cutesy names), there's something that really chafes me big time. I hope you agree; but I'm going to vent anyway. The Captcha feature on Blogger, where you have to prove you're not a robot. It sucks! Like I have to click on pictures containing a bus or a crosswalk. Some are dim; some use questionable possibilities (is this a bus or a van), and they go on forever. As a matter of fact, I sometimes when trying to respond to a post (in a reinforcing way), I get so frustrated! I do not like to play guessing games with Captcha! No, Sam I Am! As long as I'm airing bête noires, here's one from an old Clint Eastwood movie:
I double the sentiments for mayonnaise. Why does that goop have to be the default condiment for take-out sandwiches?
In a more serious vein, there's the increasingly used practice of some states issuing travel bans for their state employees to penalize other states that pass legislation that some out-of-state legislator disapproves of; or gets on a moral high horse about. Specifically, Alabama and Georgia recently enacted laws that made increased restrictions on abortions. In response, some other states issued travel bans to the Yellowhammer State and the Peach State. Well, whoopee do! If you don't want more restrictions on abortion, then don't pass 'em in your own state. That's an easy solution. Just don't fooyay into other states' business. I wonder, though. Just how much is a measure like that going to really impact interstate travel? [OMFG! Now some out-of-state state employees cannot travel to Gulf Shores to visit the Flora-Game lounge. Unless they fly into Pensacola.]
It's Sunday, and like in other Catholic churches over the world, it's time for the Christening of infants into the mother church. This is both a solemn and festive occasion. Infants of a few weeks are brought to the Baptistry to be sprinkled with holy water and be received into the Church! And the new members of the Holy Church are decked out in their splendid baptismal gowns: traditionally white; however, some highlights of color have recently begun to appear. Father Devereaux, Pastor of St. Cletus's Parish, lately noticed white Christening gowns with trim in purple and gold or black and gold -- but mostly in the Fall. He thought "Tigers fan or Saints fan"; but it was okay since word did not reach the Archbishop of these departures from custom. He was willing to let it slide. And, besides, there is no canonical prescription as to what Christening gowns should be like.* After all, Fr. D. was quite willing to shift the time for the last mass to be at 11:45; all with the view of allowing late attendees to still get out in time for the Saints kickoff! Well, one Sunday Father Devereaux got a bodacious surprise. One of the infant girls was decked out in a baptismal gown of green, silver, and black! Now this caused him consternation? Was this an underhanded way of getting Satanic practices to contaminate a most sacred ritual, or are they practitioners of Voodoo? No way to know; so he went ahead with the ritual, halfway expecting comeback from the Archdiocese. The fact that the proud Grandpa referred to her as "my little Iggle" unsettled him further. Was This some Satanic code word? He asked Mycroft, aka The Lucky Dog Guy, what was it all about; but this encyclopedia of folklore was not able to answer. Likewise Madeline the Prophetess and Suzette the Existential Stripper all drew blanks. So next day he asked his Baptist compadre, Brother Bob, what it's all about. Since this was a Potentially Serious Matter, they decamped to Uptown, far away from their congregations' locales and a place where they could get a bracing drink or two without censure from their congregationalists! Bob, at first, was puzzled. Particularly over the meaning of the colors. But then it all became clear when the Good Padre Tim asked if the child being referred to as 'our little Iggle' meant something devilish. Bob shook his head, and said, "You got a problem, Tim, but it's not a devil problem." And he told them what the problem was, and what team had those colors. Tim said, "Oh well, it could be worse. They could have dressed her in Dallas Cowboys colors! That would have caused a scandal!" *Supposedly, Baptism was performed in the early church on candidates who were stark naked as jaybirds; this may have had the effect of increasing attendance for this ceremony. Even today, some more exotic sects are said to do this as well. [As an aside: why are jaybirds singled out as examples of nudity; only penguins dress up?
The 1960's -- a distant era -- was a fertile period for songwriting. There was a plethora of genres that emerged during that time; folk rock, soft rock, and some songs with vile lyrics referred to as 'bubblegum music.' No,my friends, no link here. You're going to have to go that lonesome road by yourself. By the mid-1960's, music lyrics became more lurid (or suggestive, to use the time-honored euphemism.) Anyway, here are two by Lou Christie (b. 1943) that further that theme. 1. Oh my ever-lasting Gawd!* Here's Lightning Strikes, which implies that males willingly give into temptation when it come to lips begging to be kissed:
Okay, the message is clear: Don't sweat your b.f. being untrue if temptation crosses his path or if he seeks other opportunities. 2. Riding on the crest of Lightning Strikes, Lou Christie launched Phapsody in the Rain. Here he is performing it at a later date:
Originally, the lyrics included:
Baby, the raindrops play for me
Our lovely rhapsody, 'cause on our first date
We were makin' out in the rain.
And in this car, our love went much too far
It was exciting as thunder
Tonight I wonder, where you are?
MGM insisted on a re-recorded version that toned down the lyrical content. Corporate prudes! The third and fourth lines were changed to:
We fell in love in the rain
And in this car, love came like a falling star
I think you might get the idea. Anyway, I thought you would enjoy this excursion into old-time make-out music.** *I figure this one is worth three Hail Marys. And I don't mean a distant shot from behind the half court line. **I turned in my V-card at 18; and am a mom now.
November 1st is, among Louisianans, All Saints' Day: the day in which they honor less-important saints not prominent enough to merit their own feast days or having any Heavenly Pull. It's a high Holy Day; and it's also the day to spruce up the graves of loved ones in preparation for All Souls' Day (November 2). Lousianans are given to piety sometimes; but we don't overdo it.
But in Heaven November 1st it takes on a different twist: this is the day in which all of the guardian angels that fell asleep on the job the day before spend the day in Angel Detention because of their failures in proper supervision of their mortals. Yes, Heaven is a place of bliss; but sometimes the bliss is a little thin, if you know what I mean. Anyway, let us look into that dismal scene:
Here is Angel Second Class Melanie, who helped the human she supposedly watched over as she toilet papered the whole neighborhood. Lazy Melanie! She helped paper the Jones's house, herself.
And Angel Third Class Marie, dressed provocatively as a pirate. Her human scandalized everyone her costume the previous night. And Marie's timbers got shivered also.
Angel Third Class Tom managed to get drunk with his human, and was still sleeping it off. This is the best way to cope with a celestial detention.
Angel First Class Matt's human was a preacher who dared to have a Halloween party at the church rec room, as opposed to a Fall Festival as the Godly would prefer they be called nowadays. Matt's human was almost stricken from fellowship, but he had taken several of the deacons to lunch at Hooters' last month and they did not wish to curtail those pleasures.
Archangel William was sent to detention for keeping bad companionship. It's a crying shame when your human is a member of the U.S. Senate. He was said to mutter, "I worked so hard to become an archangel and this is the assignment I get?"
Poor Apprentice Angel Steve: he participated in igniting fires in several garbage cans.
Angel Second Class Jennifer and her human put laundry detergent in the fountain and it foamed for days.
Archangel Mickey got clemency because he was unfortunate enough to draw an aspirant Presidential candidate as his human. Archangel Gabriel's view was, "This poor snook has suffered enough by listening to all the speeches."
Angel Third Class Cecilia ran an old blouse up a flagpole. Her human behaved even more poorly.
Righteous Archangel Clara came to detention wearing Mardi Gras beads; she was sent there for "causing a scandal."
Hollywood Angel Second Class Lindsay made the clubs for a solid week without requiring a washing of her lingerie hamper.
But by far, the harshest detention punishment was meted out to Angel First Class Scott, whose human slipped the Straight and Narrow, and passed out religious tracts decrying Halloween instead of the candy and other treats given by the righteous. While in this angelic detention, he was treated as a pariah!
Their latest foray comes from Chesapeake, VA which passed a law restricting trick-or-treating to those 12 or younger. Will this mean that a 14- or 16- or 18-year old could be cited for trick-or-treating?
What is frigging WRONG with people? Let's face it: the news sucks. Politics sucks. Religion has let us down. Even sports has gotten too serious. (Still, I liked the Series.)
What harm is it for teens to want to have trick-or-treating fun? Let's hope Chesapeake is not a harbinger of a trend.
Maybe FOX News can do a series on War on Halloween. No, wait -- we already have idiots passing out tracts instead of candy. And schools having Fall Festivals instead of Halloween Parties.
Truth: I trick-or-treated until I was 18 or 19. Yes, and with my friends. And my Mama was fine with my costumes. (Yes, I did Lum twice -- in tiger skin bikini. Temps were in low- 70s at night)
Oh, New Orleans is a party town and people go all out for Halloween. Like a mini-Mardi Gras in late October. New Year's Eve also rocks in the Quarter.
Good witches protect trick-or-treaters from goblins.
My name is Angélique (or Angel). I'm a Cajun native of New Orleans, LA. I'm a
blonde in my late '20's. I'm married and full-time stay at home mommy of a daughter. Politically, I'm independent, with contrarian leanings.
I still have some traces of my Cajun/Yat accent despite having been in the groves of academe.
I hope you won't mind my odd sense of humor.