cosmic convergence January 17, 2010
Football season is converging with carnival season and it’s all good. This is the beginning of my yearly cycle. Creativity has struck. I’ve made the royalty gifts for Mama Roux. Krewe du Vieux King Dr. John gets a beaded cigar box with a small skull on top, filled with kitchen matches. Former royalty and lesser VIPs get beaded match boxes. I’m sitting here thinking about beading small match boxes to throw during the parade.
Mama Roux has a brand new, re-designed float, which is making us feel awfully special. We are looking forward to seeing Pat Robertson in hell. I can’t get over that guy. Is it so wrong to hope that a building falls on him?
The Divine Protectors of Endangered Pleasures have also been given a great honor this year. We have been asked to demonstrate our beaded bustier-making and have our own booth at Jazz Fest’s Folklife Village. As Divine Inspiration, I will be chairing the effort. We will appear during the first weekend. I can’t express how excited I am that we will be there, almost in the same class as the Mardi Gras Indians.
Susan Guidry’s campaign for city council district A is heating up fiercely. A poll showed Susan beating Jay Batt. We couldn’t be happier. The difference between Susan and Jay Batt is night and day. I really can’t imagine anyone voting for him. His platform seems to be that he learned from his mistakes in the past and he’s not going to be such a jerk if we give him another chance.
I have a perfectly wonderful houseguest whose company I am enjoying tremendously. I’m very busy at work and still spending a lot of time in Misissippi dealing with my funny, crazy family members. In fact, I am there right now. It’s 5:00 a.m. I was sleeping very soundly until I was jolted awake by the unmistakeable sounds of Eminem. My brother decided to watch “8-Mile” with the volume at full blast in the bedroom next door. Hello! Just another day at the funny farm.
I really need to start recording some of the nutty things my step-dad says. He is a Mississippi Cajun and has a gift for mangling the English language. He never calls anything by it’s right name. For instance, the TV remote is “the wand.” He’s getting older now and it’s getting worse, and funnier. He was talking about a relative who he thinks has bad manners, and he said, “she don’t have no bananas.”
