Friday, November 21, 2008

Out of Step

I don’t dance in public anymore. Okay, maybe every once in a RARE while, when I’m out of town, out past my bedtime and liquored up real good. Why? Because I think there is an age-appropriateness to getting down.

When I was a young club kid, I could do all the dances of the day (no, motherfucker, NOT the Lindy Hop.) People would actually complement me on my moves. But that type of dancing lives in a certain age. And the minute you step on a dance floor and start partying like it’s 1999, well . . . you just look stupid.

I made this admittedly ridiculous policy after seeing one of my dear friends, an incredibly handsome, together man hit the floor. Being a few years older than me, I was shocked to see the 70’s sensibilities in his moves. He went from being this tres cool guy to being a geek in about 9 seconds flat.

Lately, though, I’ve been dancing around the house a lot. My beloved and I spent the better part of an evening and a good bottle of tequila bouncing around the living room to John Legend and Andre 3000’s infectious new groove, “Green Light.” It was so much fun, I was actually considering lifting my ban.

Then I saw a commercial for Prilosec, which featured a woman who looked older than me, but probably wasn’t, dancing in a club while talking about not letting her heartburn slow her down. She was on beat, but horribly dated in her moves. She punctuated the spot—and reinforced my discomfort—by waggling one finger in the air. Apparently, “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy” was the scratch track for this spot. Shudder.

Now, had the scene been a party full of old people, this might not have been so bad. But she was in a CLUB. Shouldn’t oughta be no cougars in da club. In addition to being a less-than-fresh dancer, she just reminded me of that divorcee who trolls the nightspots trying to snare a piece of her lost youth via some hot young thang. Now before you go calling me sexist, this rule should apply EQUALLY. I don’t want to see some forty-something giving himself arthritis trying to keep up some perky titties on the dance floor either.

Maybe we should all try ballroom? God, I feel old all of a sudden.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Gettin' Drunk and Cleanin' Muh Guns

Living in Texas, “the right to keep and bear arms” is imprinted on your birth certificate. I grew up in a gun-filled household. I fired my first shot before I was in junior high, owned my first gun (a “starter” .22 rifle) and killed my first deer before I was a teenager. So, I’m not coming at this from a place of ignorance.

But I still don’t get it. Sure, hunting is a “sport” and I appreciate that. I acknowledge that it’s not my thing, but if it’s yours, that’s cool. But then we get into the discussion of handguns. In Texas we have concealed weapons permits. And the vast majority of people who apply for them are EXACTLY the people I would prefer NOT have a gun should a “disagreement” occur. I know you SAY it’s for self-defense, but I just don’t really see a whole lot of evidence that it’s a good thing.

So you can imagine the head shaking going on in my house when I read about the Washington State man who shot and killed his 6-year-old daughter, Stormy, while cleaning his pistol. After drinking double shots of vodka all evening.

I’m sorry, can you run that by me one more time? You were cleaning your fucking guns and decided that “drunk” was probably the best condition to be in? I’m truly sorry that gun wasn’t pointing in the opposite direction.

To make matters worse, he had asked Stormy to bring him the .45 and he guessed he “must have pulled the trigger” and the girl “fell down.” Ya think?

His attorney actually argued for bail, saying that her client wasn’t a flight risk. Excuse me? When your home is on wheels, doesn’t that automatically make you a flight risk?

Of course, I’m sure the jury will be swayed by his grief at “losing” his child. And while I think this fellow is a perfect candidate for the death penalty (c’mon, it’s a 4-fer: killer, idiot, gun owner, bad child namer), maybe they should just cut his balls off. At least that way he wouldn’t be able to create another child he might potentially shoot or give a cripplingly white trash name to. I mean, there’s nothing in the constitution about the right to keep and bear children, is there?

Monday, November 17, 2008

Sea Foam the Greek

We didn’t know what her name was. So we just called her “Sea Foam the Greek.” It was easier than looking up the Greek word for “bitch.”

She was a petite woman, pretty in that hard, Eastern European way. The kind of woman who didn’t smile for fear of showing weakness. Or maybe just because nothing made her happy. Based on our experiences, I’m voting for the latter.

See, four friends of the amazing Fink went to tennis camp in Florida this past weekend. We were celebrating his birthday by chasing and hitting fuzzy green balls for five hours a day. Sounds like fun, eh? Well, IT WAS!

Seafoam had flown in from the set of The Real Housewives of Athens with her delish husband for a few days of . . . I’m not exactly sure what. She was ostensibly there to work on her tennis game. But it became very apparent, very quickly, that couldn’t POSSIBLY be the reason she’d flown all the way to Florida. First she asked to be moved out of the Russian native's class because “She couldn’t understand his English.” That put her on the court next to ours, where we got to spend half a day witnessing her Alexis Carrington Colby Dexter Etc brand bitchery first hand.

“Is it okay if I just sit out this volley drill? This isn’t my game. I don’t play the net,” she said condescendingly.

Hunh?!?! Lady, you’re no Elena Dementieva. Hell, you’re not even an Eleni Daniilidou. You’re a country club hack AT BEST. You don’t have a “game.” Shut the hell up and hit the ball.

That’s what I would have said.

But her instructor was perfectly happy to let her plop her bony ass on the sidelines. We were all atwitter at her behavior, but she was just getting started. The drills confused her. The Jamaican instructor’s English (that lovely island sing-song patois) was “too fast” even though Missy spoke pretty much accent-free herself. She would walk off the court without warning. She pouted. She fumed. She was constantly spreading her arms wide in a gesture that immediately calls to mind a cornpone dickhead saying “you want a piece of me?” or Diana Ross in concert.

We spent the entire afternoon and evening talking about Sea Foam. And what her adorable husband could possibly see in her. We even started a pool to guess what color she’d be wearing on day two. “Coral,” my Beloved said emphatically. “Definitely coral.”

Day Two came and we dragged our weary asses to the tennis courts. As we’re going through our warm-up jog, we spot her. “CORAL!!” Shouted my Beloved. The five of us burst out laughing. For there she was, in full coral ensemble.

Apparently, in the gated communities on the outskirts of Athens, 90’s pastels are making a HUGE comeback.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Surely at Least One K Stands for Kracker?

I know you’ve all been waiting for the latest installment of KKK news, right? Well, one faction is being sued in Kentucky court by a Panamanian man who was attacked by two of their members. The point of the suit is to bankrupt this cell and force them out of business.

I, for one, am still a little shocked that the KKK still exists. (I wonder if that particular brand of retardation could be cured by stem cell research?) Of course, I could jump back on my soap box about education funding in this country. As if the recent Republican presidential campaign doesn’t deserve it’s own PSA for retardation. By the way, I LOVE the word “retarded.” I know it’s not PC, but I don’t really give a fuck anymore. The literal definition of retarded is “delayed or held back in terms of progress, development or accomplishment.” By that definition, the Republicans and the Klan are RETARDED! Maybe they should give THEM their own Olympics.

They could have events like effigy building, cross burning, dangling participles, fear tactics, misquoting Jesus. I’m not sure what they’d have for the Klan.

But I digress. A few points for your mid week amusement about these Klansmen.

The two men on trial: “Imperial Wizard” Ron Edwards (sounds like a Harry Potter reject) and “Grand Titan” Jarred Hensley. Sadly, there appear to be no Poobahs in the Klan.

Two others settled out of court: “Exalted Cyclops” Joshua Cowles and “Imperial Gothi” Andrew Watkins. Okay, I’m nearly peeing myself over these titles. They sound like something you’d see scratched on a junior high boy’s book cover.

I-Wiz Edwards is, you guessed it, defending himself. And he plans to “prove that I teach them not to go out and commit violence.” Perhaps he thinks one of those K’s stands for Krishna? Or maybe he left his eighth grade diploma in his other white robe.

And speaking of their costumes, why is it that their pointy white hats resemble nothing more than dunces caps? Oh, yeah. Never mind.

In a related, but wholly symbolic gesture, I think I’ll go change my sheets now.

Monday, November 10, 2008

Hope Wins. Hope Chest Loses.

So the last week has been amazing. I never thought I’d see someone as partisan as Elizabeth Hasselbeck of The View give a sincere endorsement of President-Elect Obama. I can only hope that the goodwill continues, but I know it won’t. Opposition parties but snarkiness at the top of their daily to-do lists.

My joy at Obama’s election was tempered by the bans on gay marriage that were passed in three states. Florida and Arizona were expected to pass by significant margins, and they did. So, while I was disappointed, I was not surprised. California on the other hand, caught me off guard. I knew that polling showed the race was tight, but I was optimistic that a state as progressive as Cali would come through.

And may I say that I’m shocked that a constitution can be amended by such a simple majority (pun intended). Whatever happened to 2/3 majority? 52% to 49% doesn’t seem to be a clear mandate.

There has been lots of finger-pointing at the Christian conservatives, especially the Mormons, who pumped a significant amount of pristine Utah money into the California battle. (I loved the protestors sign that said “You want two wives. I want ONE husband.)

Again, though, what do you expect from Mormons?

But my biggest disappoint was with African-Americans. Overall, the percentage of African-Americans who voted FOR Obama (and change), but voted AGAINST gay marriage was somewhere in the neighborhood of 70%. So essentially, they were the swing vote.

There has long been a discussion in the gay community about the lack of support from the African-American community. The logic goes along the lines of “since they experienced the worst discrimination this country has ever seen, and fought so hard for their civil rights, surely they’ll overcome their own prejudices and support civil rights for all.”

And while that may seem logical to us, it’s completely illogical to the African-American community, whose religiosity insists that gay is evil and sinful.

Now, I do think that the battle is actually going to be won, and sooner than later. I think that gays and lesbians will get the same civil rights as other taxpayers, because ultimately, this isn’t a religious issue, it’s a civil one.

Which brings me to the obvious solution: Eliminate marriage altogether. Drastic, you say? Not really. I’m just talking about the government institution. Make it like many other countries, where you have a civil ceremony, which grants you the rights and appurtenances under the law. Then make marriage solely a religious ceremony, with no legal standing.

So, if you want to legally commit to another person, go to the courthouse. Then if you want to get “married,” go to church.

Since most people’s objections revolve around the religious aspects, make it okay for THEIR church to make their own decisions about who they will and will not marry. End of debate, right?

I mean it’s always struck me as a little odd that a minister/priest/preacher says at the end of the wedding ceremony, “Now, by the power vested in me by the state of . . .” Excuse me? Does that strike anyone else as a very blurry separation of church and state? Should religious officiants be “vested” with power by the state?

I have to say, I loved when President-elect Obama included “gay” in his list of Americans during his acceptance speech. Let’s hope that HIS acceptance will lead to acceptance by an even wider constituency.

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Evil on a Tuesday

Last night, I was talking to one of my favorite peeps, the lovely Miss Baker. We were discussing the state of the union and how nervous we are about today’s election. While we feel cautiously optimistic about Senator Obama’s chances, we also remember quite vividly that Al Gore had the same lead in the polls going into HIS election day. And look what happened there.

During the conversation, I remarked at how sad it was that Obama’s grandmother had died just one day before the election, and how nice it would have been for her to see her grandchild elected President. Then, being the snarky bitch I am, I said, “You know, I bet his grandmother actually died two weeks ago.” Miss B, who has known me plenty long enough to know I was kidding, gave me an encouraging laugh. I continued, “ I mean, that was probably her funeral he went to and now they’re trotting it out the day before, for sympathy votes.”

Miss B reminded me for the umpteenth time just how wrong I am (in the head). I retorted that Karl Rove would have done it on the Republican side, and we agreed that it was a Rove-type thang. Getting more serious, I said, “You know, there is probably some fucking right wing site out there that will actually accuse Obama of doing this.” I didn’t really believe it. Too callous, even for the wingnuts.

So, what do I find this morning during my daily internet surf? Free Republic actually theorizing this very thing. And their comment section? RIPPING them to shreds. Calling them un-Christian and saying they’ve gone too far. And these are the right wingnuts, people!!

And that’s when I knew that we were going to win today.