tennessee man makes octo-mom look sane May 28, 2009
My friend Heather sends this link:
http://a11news.com/1985/desmond-hatchett/
21 kids at age 29. “It just happened,” he says. Forget Jon and Kate, THIS would make an interesting TV show.
crock pots for the poor! May 14, 2009
Dear Stacy,
I know how tempting it is to look over other people’s purchases at the grocery store and judge them harshly for their choices. I’ve done it myself. Many is the time I’ve thought, “why on earth is this particular person buying all this fattening food?” and “Jesus, how long can a family survive on frozen dinners alone?”
When one doesn’t live on food stamps, it’s hard not to wish the poor would follow a stricter food regimen and stretch their public dollars further. After all, is it really that much trouble to soak your own beans and switch to brown rice? And chicken livers are only $1.49 a pound, you know. Bread pudding is easy to make and it goes much further than a bag of snickers.
It’s so easy to decide what others should do. Particularly when the sight of a Louisiana Purchase card automatically makes you think the bearer is a chronically unemployed welfare cheat.
I’ve had a few eye-opening experiences in my life, however, which have made me curb my appetite for judging others. One is a kind of Emily Post realization that what others eat, whether at your table, in a restaurant, or in their own homes, is no more my business than, say, your personal e-mails.
Another, of course, was the experience of having the state of Texas generously give me food stamps during my 4-month Katrina evacuation. Except for law school books donated by the publishers, food was the only thing I received for free during my evacuation. I quickly ran out of money renting an apartment and renting or buying furnishings and items that I already had plenty of at home, but could not get to. I was happy to take the hand out and I did not think I was obligated to change my eating habits. In fact, we pooled our “Lone Star” cards and splurged at Whole Foods for our Thanksgiving dinner. I shudder to think of what any angry Stacy Heads in line behind us might have thought. At the time, I remember thinking it was no one else’s business if I do.
And, of course, it’s always a huge eye-opener to actually talk to actual poor people and see what their lives are like. For instance, would it surprise you to know that many poor people actually have jobs? Many poor women actually work all day and then go home and provide dinner for their families. The limited time makes it hard to do things like making your own Rice Krispy treats for dessert.
To tell you the truth, Stacy, I, a 60-minute gourmet if ever there was one, once tried to make Rice Krispy treats for my kids. I was going to add dried cranberries to make it somewhat nutritious. It turned into a sweet, sticky mess. Let’s just say it did not resemble the picture. They must cut those things with a table saw for the commercials.
Another thing about poor people is that they want their kids to have what the other kids have. When the others are proudly pulling a pre-made Rice Krispy treat from their back-packs at lunch time, you don’t want your kid pulling out a plastic bag full of soggy bread pudding. Kids know, Stacy. They know.
Another thing about being temporarily poor during Hurricane Katrina was that it reminded me that many people are in the same shape. They are temporarily poor and they need a little help, not macrobiotic cooking lessons. If you grew up poor, you are probably going to be a little more familiar with cheap cuts of meat and cooking from scratch than if you have been recently thrown from the middle class into poverty. That lady in front of you may have been recently laid off with no idea how to make her children’s favorite treat from scratch, let alone dress a squirrel and make the home-made sauce piquante.
Believe me, I would like nothing more than for everyone, including me and my family, to learn how to cook more healthily and economically. Until we do, I would just like to say to the lady in back of me at the grocery store, “Please don’t think I drink this much all the time. I’m having some people over. Really.”
Sincerely yours, Dangerblond
another theatrical photograph by arthur w. tong April 17, 2009
KimLate80s
Originally uploaded by dangerblond.
How much does this look like Leicester?
a drawing
Jury
Originally uploaded by dangerblond.
anatomy of a bad joke April 5, 2009
I just stopped at a quickie-mart. Not my usual one with the fun Egyptian guys. This one has an older man who works there. I started to buy a black cigarette lighter and then put it back and got a blue one.
“What’s the matter, you don’t like Barack?”
“Huh?”
“You put the black one back.”
“Um, I like Barack just fine. I still have his sticker on the back of my car. I just think a blue cigarette lighter is easier to find in a black purse.”
“Oh.”
It reminded me of a story my friend told during Mardi Gras. They were standing on the St. Charles parade route when some people moved next to them. One guy told my friend that they were “getting away from the Obama voters.” My friend said, “well, you are still standing next to Obama voters.”
Attention rednecks: these kinds of remarks are not jokes. They are the equivalent of saying, “the president is black. Bwah ha ha!” See? That’s not all that funny. If you have a good joke about the president, then by all means tell it. I love a good joke. But this is not a joke. It’s the lowest form of crass, vulgar, racial prejudice. And please stop assuming I’m on board with you just because I am white.
tales of the gun April 1, 2009
Among lots of things that have been keeping me busy lately, I’ve been helping my mother out. Her husband, Kenneth, has been diagnosed with liver cancer and it’s a major deal. I’ve been burning up the road between here and Jackson, Mississippi, trying to help mom, my step-brother and step-sisters out. My mother is dealing with a husband in home hospice, my 87-year-old grandmother and my paralyzed brother. My grandmother is hilarious, though. She’s like Tennessee Williams meets the Marx Brothers.
Mom and Kenneth have been married since I was 21. He has been very good to her, and over the years he has always treated my brother, sister and I as though we were his children. He has been there for me many times and is the closest thing to a father I have ever had. I’m still surprised at the emotions I am feeling over what he is going through.
One story involving Kenneth: When I lived in the Bywater in the late 80s, my apartment was burglarized while I was at work. Lots of stuff was stolen and I was pretty shaken up. The police told me I needed to get a gun. I hate guns, I’m afraid of them and I don’t know anything about them and don’t want to.
My mom called me and asked me to come to Jackson. When I got there, Kenneth had bought me a .38 and announced that he was taking me to some huge ditch-looking place to show me how to use it. I actually went and learned how to shoot the gun. It served me well when I was in a play that required the use of a prop gun. I had my whole Angie Dickinson stance going on.
Any way, I brought the gun back to New Orleans. I ended up moving to the Garden District and I hid the gun way underneath my mattress, where I completely forgot about it. When I moved in with Don, my friend, Raphael, moved into my house. One day he called me.
“Kim, hi. Um, did you know you have a gun under the mattress?”
“Wow, I do?!? Oh, shit, yes I do. I have a gun under the mattress. I forgot about it.”
“Do you want to come and get it?”
“No.”
“Um, can I have it?”
“Sure, it’s yours. Happy Birthday.”
I don’t know what’s ever happened to that gun. Raphael has moved to about 10 different places since then, including Vietnam. Someone else must have it by now. I had totally forgotten about it again until I was helping my mother clean out a cabinet in her kitchen to hold all the paper plates and stuff that people have brought over. I stuck my hand way in the back and pulled out a loaded gun.
photo | super sunday, 2009 March 22, 2009
100_6271
Originally uploaded by dangerblond.
photo | wendell pierce
100_6285
Originally uploaded by dangerblond.
Alli and I went to Super Sunday and we saw Bunk from the Wire!
photo | my new hair cut
gracepic
Originally uploaded by dangerblond.
Dr. A took this picture at the Jeffrey-Menckles nuptials upstairs at the Napoleon House. I told Jeffrey once that I would dance at his wedding, and I did. Loved the second line, and the world’s shortest vows.
photo | susan, me and heather February 26, 2009
100_5892
Originally uploaded by dangerblond.
Diva Day, February 20, 2009, in the French Quarter. Susan was “Peacockless,” I was “Diva Means Never having to say You’re Sari,” and Heather was “Cochon de Lay.”
older posts »
