I Am Not a Dog

There is a Brazilian singer named Euripides Waldick Soriano (honest!), whose most famous song is "Eu não sou cachorro, não." which translates to "I Am Not a Dog." It has these lyrics:

"Eu não sou cachorro, não. Pra viver tão humilhado. Eu não sou cachorro, não. Para ser tão desprezado. Tu não sabes compreender."

"I am not a dog, no. Why must I live so humiliated. I am not a dog.   You are not able to understand."


Once while Waldick was singing this song on a stage, a dog came from one of the wings while wearing a sign, "I am not Waldick Soriano." The singer totally lost his cool and left the stage, leaving the encore for the dog to do alone.  Supposedly, it caused a riot!

Here is Waldick Soriano singing his hit song:

Humor About Flatulence

Americans have some odd notions about flatulence: that it's a bad thing not engaged in by polite or important people.  Can you imagine Jon Stewart or any of the Supremes passing gas?  How about nuns?  While it's a stretch to imagine the President breaking wind, somehow it seems plausible that some minor state Governor might.

And fart jokes are not regarded as sophisticated humor.  I doubt that the New York Times or The New Yorker give examples of those.  Yes, it probably is a carryover from our European heritage and the emulation of the upper class.  However, there has been a noisy and smelly undercurrent to these inhibitions regarding flatulence.  After all, Benjamin Franklin wrote Fart Proudly. And you can always count on that countercultural source of less-than-polite humor, preteen boys, to furnish new examples of scatological humor.  I would not be totally surprised if there are subrosa classes on how to tell fart jokes during recesses for seventh grade.  After all, many have found that they have an easy strategy for impressing early teen girls.  I think that we should regard them for what they are: a bona fide form of Americana!  

Lest anyone dismiss this form of humor as suggestive of the unsophisticated humor of the Americans, let's consider some historical examples.  The Roman Emperor Elegabarus entertained himself and guests with an ancient example of a Whoopee cushion!   Le Pétomane entertained French audiences at the Folies Bergère with tunes produced from his rear trumpet!  Of course, Geoffrey Chaucer had this description of how Nicholas saluted Absalom through the window in The Miller's Tale of Canterbury Tales: 

"This Nicholas anon let fle a fart 
As greet as it had been a thonder-dent
That with the strook he was almost yblent (blinded) 
And he was ready with iron hoot 
And Nicholas ammyd the ers he smoot."

In other words, Absalom hit him in the butt with a hot poker in response to his fart.

Therefore, be fearless in your enjoyment of this sort of humor.  However, the Fire Marshal might take a jaundiced view of your igniting one!

The Special Occasion for a Girls' Night Out

It was the usual Yat* Sisters' night out; but Jane made a reservation at their hangout for dinner for the amazing six. Sometimes it's a good idea if you have a large group and want a table for a festive dinner. (Jane was a little obsessive-compulsive; she got nervous if things were left up to chance.)

Anyway, apparently the hostess was cheerful and accommodating as a good hostess should; and she asked if it was a special occasion. Jane rather flippantly answered, "Oh, we're celebrating Megan's loss of virginity." And thought no more about it, since she thought that the hostess, who knew them, was aware that she was kidding.

Came the girls' night out. They were seated at a really good table for six, and the waiter brought a nice wine. Hey, the service got ramped up since last time it seemed! And the guitarist came and performed a soulful song for Megan and gave her a single, long-stemmed rose. All of us, Jane included, were confused.

Finally, Jane figured it out: the restaurant hostess took her remark literally, and they were really celebrating Megan's loss of virginity! 

After dinner, while the girls were having some coffee before going to a club, the waitress brought out a cake made in the form of a woman's torso to mark the festive occasion. Jane was embarrassed at thing turn of things; and never got up the nerve to tell Megan or the others why those special attentions were provided! 

Did it stop Jane from making offhand, flippant comments in the future? No, making flip remarks is a habit that's hard to break even when you occasionally get hoisted by your own petard. During the next girls' night out, Megan remarked that she enjoyed the celebration of her loss of virginity. It was more fun than when it originally occurred ten years before!

Megan earned some valuable good sport points; always a good deal when the Yat Sisters are hanging out together!

*A New Orleans native; from the greeting, "Where y'at?"

Celebratory cake for the occasion.

Interesting Places To Pass Through

Motorists often have to pass through small towns while traveling on the back highways of America.  However, sometimes they get to pass through places with amusing names like these. Enjoy! I'm not making any serious point with this. Heaven forbid!  It's good to travel light and enjoy the trip!

An unincorporated town in Arkansas where people like peanuts.

This city in Oklahoma may be honoring an unnamed strumpet.
Kentucky, South Dakota, and Missouri also have Hookers.

Honoring an odd Missourian.

Some people persist in riding it in Alaska.

Possums know better than to mosey in Kentucky.

Unfortunately, there is no Two-in-Bush in Pennsylvania.

A small town in Georgia possibly named after a dance.

An actual unincorporated place in Oregon; avert your eyes!

This is in North Carolina

Waterproof is in Louisiana and isn't Waterproof!

Definitely a place in Texas to be careful visiting.

Some Nebraska towns are like that.

A stingy Missourian is honored here.

Honoring the virgins of Pennsylvania.

Hipsterdom Comes to Louisiana

With the increased awareness of hipsters and the hipster lifestyle, it soon became likely that some 20's or 30's in unlikely places as the Deep South would flirt with the hipster ethos. Yes, Southerners are known for irony; almost like a reflex. After all, a culture in which women say "Bless his heart" has some capacity for putting on others!

And already post-Katrina New Orleans has made the list of hipster-friendly places, along with Williamsburg in NYC, Cambridge, Portland, Austin, San Francisco, and Seattle. Therefore, it should not be surprising that proto-hipster beliefs and folkways should spill over into Bayou Country. For example, shopping locally and being a locovore:

And adopting hipster music trends, but with the addition of Lynyrd Skynyrd. Carrie Underwood, and Taylor Swift. And you pretend to do so for ironic reasons. Actually, doing that is the supreme exercise in irony, much like watching porn without lust. Jazz, of course, has always been cool. And zydeco is beyond cool.

Urban guy hipsters can follow the lead of the Robertson family of Duck Commando fame and grow full beards. They have released the inner back country essence in many an urban hipster. Even better if the beard is wild and unruly, testifying to the essential untamedness of the wearer. Some women with androgynous syndrome have even taken up this look!

Hipster fashion statements are easy to adapt to a Southern climate. Worn jeans and Daisy Dukes definitely can be seen as the wearer making an ironic statement. Likewise, wearing a scarf or a shocking t-shirt or a guy's long-sleeve shirt will do for a top. However, flannel shirts can be impractical much of the year due to the climate. Bras are, of course, optional. However, if you do wear one, wear one in a color that shows through clothing. Also, some clothing lines already advertise hipster btiefs for these extreme Southern hipsters:

Well, maybe that was a different use of the word hipster.!

But where are these non-urban hipster places? Well, Lafayette and Opelousas can make a good case for cool. And Baton Rouge still manages despite being a source of hot wind. 

Naturally, certain kinds of grooming are no-nos for hipsters. Big hair will cause you to be scorned. It's better to leave your hair straight and somewhat messy, like you just got out of bed and are not too keen with the idea of being awake. Make-up: act like you don't give a damn. Perfume: something from Bath and Body Works, but nothing that may mark you as a hip call girl like some of those French brands. Tattoos can be part of your ensemble, if you are into ink. An obvious point: a nice L.S.U. Tigers tattoo will not be wrong, especially in biker bars.  

Cool tastes are part of the ensemble of Louisiana hipsters. Greek philosophers are cool. Thomas Hobbes or William James are risky. Tom Aquinas is woefully uncool, but William of Ockham is okay. If you can pass off understanding them, Wittgenstein or Nietzsche are gods! (But shy off if Wittgenstein brandishes his poker!)  Modern art of the sort produced by Rothko or Johns marks you as discerning; but some remarkable genre like gay cowboy art* means that you are totally au courant! Photographs should be arty but not of Arty. 

Diet: Louisiana hipsters eat only gluten-free crawfish. And they NEVER call them "cray-fish." Or mudbugs!  Those that do are required to become Catholic so that they can confess this sin to an unsympathetic priest. And the solid hipster always tears his French bread and never slices it. Jambalaya or gumbo for hipsters must have shrimp or andouille. 

Here's an obvious point: never, ever refer to yourself as a hipster. Doing so will cause you to be exposed as a poseur!

*There is such a genre.

Rifle Chic

"A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed."

This Second Amendment of the Constitution of the United States has been lately an active topic of discussion by thinking Americans and otherwise. We Americans do collectively bear arms a lot; but some of us more so than others. [A disclosure FWIW: I don't have any. I'll let the well-regulated militia do it for me.]

However, it is undeniable that so often gun-toting fellow Americans accompany their right to bear arms while offering deplorable fashion statements. Let's face it: no one looks cool while wearing non-military camouflage or orange. Orange is decidedly NOT the new black; so don't look for that Little Orange Dress for those formal occasions.

However, Belinda Cameron, New York fashion designer, was searching the mean streets of Nashville when she saw a young fashionista wearing black but with the accompaniment of a large accessory:

Her name was Lila. Well, Belinda was discerning enough to overlook her visible bra straps and see that this young fashion-conscious lady was being a possible harbinger of a new style in fashion: Rifle Chic! So she obtained Lila's mobile number, and hurried back to her design board and sketched out a few possible designs. She thought out loud: "Dark tube tops with patriotic motifs . . . . hip-hugging jeans . . . . appliqué navel jewel . . . . assault rifle or perhaps AK-47 . . . . purse with silver studs . . . . Or maybe a red miniskirt, a holster with a .22 caliber pistol . . . . A farm girl look with accessory .22 rifle . . . .Maybe with a matching rhinestone denim jacket . . . . I am so on a roll!"

Her minions gathered around the board and were astounded by Belinda Cameron's latest coup! This was a new launchable fashion trend that would be quickly adopted in flyover country as well!

Belinda contacted Lila, who was persuaded to learn the craft of being a model; no, a supermodel! Well, she had to manage 5-inch heels, learn to like a strapless bra, and refrain from barbecue, onion rings, and barbecue. Yes, Lila liked to flaunt her navel despite having a muffin top!

There was a fly in the ointment: New York City was one of those places that didn't allow for open carrying of firearms, so she had to make do with dummy rifles during New York Fashion Week. Still, the hip crowd did recognize this fashion statement for what it was. It was the new sensation of the season; and In Style, Elle, and Vogue featured Lila and other Cameron models on the cover wearing the new look.

It made an exceptional hit in other fashion-conscious places: Boston, Indianapolis, Dallas, Little Rock, Los Angeles, and East St. Louis. 

Surprisingly, the N.R.A. and the routine gun nuts, now renamed gun aficionados, were unhappy. They did not like the prissy and self-congratulatory Noo Yawk fashion crowd moving into their territory. And, somehow, your rifle looks quite a bit less badass if models also accessorize with one!

Still, Belinda and Lila was on a roll: What next, the sacred swimsuit issue? Wait for after the Super Bowl to see!

Tchoupitoulas Street

One of the more curious names of New Orleans streets is Tchoupitoulas Street, located in the Central Business District. It was named after a Native American tribe, and it is hard to pronounce.

It was back in the horse and buggy days, and one of New Orleans' finest was walking his beat in the Business Section (the old American section) when he saw a dead horse curbside on Tchoupitoulas Street. Immediately he pulled out his notepad and tried to write that fact on it. Unfortunately, the task was hard because some kids stole the nearby street signs.

He started: 'C-H-A-P-A-T-W-O'....but sensed that it was wrong. 

So he tried again: 'C-H-O-P-I-T-O-O-L-I-T-Z.' But that didn't look right, either.

So, one more time: "C-H-A-P-I-T-O-O-L-E-T'S.' But that didn't look right also.

Finally, he just thought, "To hell with it." And dragged the dead horse up a block to Camp Street.

[Tchoupitoulas is pronounced roughly "Chop-a-too-lus."]

An old street sign:

A newer version: