Jan 30, 2010
Jan 29, 2010
Big deal, I know. I can hear you from here.
You can see that pretty much on a Wednesday night in the quarter, you say?
I know, but these guys dance...and they're sober.
The Ballet Trockadero de Monte Carlo performed here for the first time in like more than twenty years.
They were great...just the right mixture of slapstick mixed in with really beautifully done dance.
You expect the humor, but the ballet is just as wonderful too.
By the way, the sight of a tiny male dancer (Chinese in a blond polyester wig) dancing with a six foot two ballerina (o?) never gets old. Never.
Alas, I found myself distracted at intermission by the sight of a guy I'd once had a blind date with....an hour of my life spent listening to a three foot long mullet and a waxed moustache...an hour of my life that I will never get back.
More interesting in the audience was a perfect doppelganger of Yves St. Laurent as a twenty year old, complete with French accent.
Thankfully, unlike my night at the opera last year, no one had a chronic farting problem....well, at least in the audience.
Because I bought my ticket at the last moment, I had to sit alone, way up in the nosebleed seats. From there for at least 1/3 of the performance one would never have known all the dancers were male. That's how good they were.
"SVELTLANA LOFATKINA. Lyrical, lissome,long-legged Sveltlana, "The Chernobyl Cherub," has produced "frissons" in audiences on every continent but two with her ineffable delicacy and refinement.
This limber gamine has captivated hearts since her auspicious debut as Talyusha, the Left Nostril, in the ballet drawn from the The Nose by N. Gogol."
MINNIE VAN DRIVER. Always running from rehearsals, costume fittings and
performances, Miss Driver has a strong sense of movement. She has performed
world wide and has a natural aptitude for touring. Famous for her beautiful port
de bras, she gives credit to her many hours behind the wheel.
Jan 28, 2010
When I was a kid, doubloons were the rage. In grammar school during carnival time, kids would bring big binders of doubloons in to class to compare and trade, to brag about...
and to sneer at.
Westbank parades were sneered at (even if...ok, probably because...we were on the westbank).
A Rex doubloon, however, was gold, literally and figuratively. The uptowners were notoriously uptight with the throws.
I, however, was never much interested in doubloons. I liked the beads.....but especially the old plastic beads, the ones threaded with multicolor separate plastic beads, not the new fused-on-the-string beads that were tossed out by the gross.
But most of all, I coveted the the glass beads of yore, beautiful beads hand strung by poor communist babushka clad serfs in Czechoslovakia or Poland or somewhere equally mysterious.
These were rare in city parades, since most krewe members bought their throws fresh every year, keeping current and avoiding shame, but the country parades....and sometimes the suburban ones...were ahead of their time in recycling. Sometimes they'd throw beads from decades before. I've seen a few in recent years, and I hope they come back, but I doubt they ever will....expense, law suits, etc.
I once remember as a young child, at a parade down the bayou in which my uncles rode their horses, catching a fragile string of mercury glass beads, already partially broken. Visiting the country parades always yielded the most glass beads, and the best moonpies and the best bubble gum. A few decades later, I remember seeing the twin of those very beads in a museum, dating from the 1890s.
Anyway, like most things from my childhood, much of this stuff has been lost, but digging around my mother's attic a few weeks ago, I found a few remaining ones.
Jan 26, 2010
Jan 25, 2010
I remember him being so unlike my own father, rather like Humphrey Bogart, dashing and smelling of whiskey. I only half remember when they married, in my earliest childhood. Each was a divorcee--he was my aunt's fourth husband.
They lived in a beautiful 1950s house with old Heywood Wakefield furniture and my uncle's paintings on the walls, mostly swamp scenes. He was a dedicated painter, a sportsman, a horticulturalist, a scientist--a renaissance man to my eyes.
My aunt knew that I had once painted, and so I suppose she wanted me to have this. It was pretty clear that she was "deacquisitioning", so to speak. After his (sudden) death, she herself died within the year.
Rifling through his effects was spooky, but fascinating. I found his college report cards, and term papers, childhood toys and personal mementos. I told my mother that this should really go to his daughter and granddaughter, but when offered to them, they said they didn't want any of it. It was hard for me to understand, since I would love to have *anything* from any of my grandparents.
One of the things found was this little calendar from 1946, on which he (as a high school student?) had sketched. Loving naked women as I do, I keep the calendar on my kitchen wall and think of him every day.
Jan 24, 2010
Oh. my. God.
This city has gone absolutely insane.
The fireworks are popping right now and there's one long sustained scream of joy from everywhere I can hear.
Here's my favorite quote from the Times Picayune about the state of the city currently:
"Chris Owens*, who never ever cancels a show, has canceled her show Sunday evening so she can watch the New Orleans Saints battle the Minnesota Vikings for the NFC Championship.* Legendary 300 year old New Orleans showgirl extraordinaire
Owens will watch the game from the comfort of her French Quarter home, said backup singer Ernestine Moses, who couldn't manage to get the evening off. She is bartending because Owens opened her showroom for fans to watch the game.
At Big Daddy's strip club, Sandy Dalon was working the door, enticing customers to come inside. She said that although the game will not be broadcast inside the club, each dancer is wearing a Saints jersey which, of course, they will take off."
read the rest here
Jan 22, 2010
This, however, is better than last month in which he spent a Saturday afternoon bellowing at his ex-wife on the phone, an hour or so's worth of
"how-I-sposed-to-be-payin'-you-goddamn-money-when-I-ain't-got-no-mo-fuckin-job-bitch!?" I'm just hoping whatever "Love Changes" he's "going through" don't make him "do" murder/suicide or something.
I mean I just don't need that crack in the plaster getting any bigger, you know?
Oh dear God...now he thinks he's El DeBarge....
Jan 21, 2010
1. Thank the person who nominated you for this award.
Thank you to the ever debonair tjb at Stirred, Straight Up, with a Twist
2. Copy the logo and place it on your blog.
(sheesh, it's kind of a hideous thing there, isn't it? sorry.)
3. Link to the person who nominated you for this award.
I'm one step ahead of you there, bud.
4. Name seven things about yourself that people might find interesting. (uhhh..."might" being the key word.)
1. When I first began college I intended to become an architect.
That's why I even chose the university to which I went. My father is an engineer and that was the only "artistic" pursuit of which he approved. (and only barely). I'd actually taken a course before college, learning to draw up blueprints and the rudiments of architecture. I did fairly well in it until my sophomore year in college....until I realized that math skills seemed to be oddly important. Liberal Arts, here I came.
I'm actually a pretty good cook...well, I think I am. However, I rarely do it anymore. I have a kitchen with barely running water and no dishwasher...and there's no one around here to cook for but me...and what fun is that? But that still doesn't stop me completely. I've had to curtail the midnight
baking, though. It was getting crazy there for a while.
3. I was a vegetarian for a few years in my twenties, until it took a toll on my hair. Vanity always wins over good intentions.
4.I think I'm the most poorly traveled person I know. Sadly, I've never been to Europe (or at least yet). I've only ever left Louisiana perhaps twenty or so times in my life. I've never been further west than El Paso, or further east than NYC. I have made a conscious effort, however, to remedy this in the past four or so years.
5. I love naked women, but then that's been established here before.
6.My new favorite color of the moment is a sort of Nile Blue. (like these pillows I just bought).
7. I can be somewhat of a flakey newagey sort....but I keep it (fairly) well hidden. I mortify myself sometimes. I'm not above making fun of flakey newagey sorts who are even flakier and newageier than I am, however.
Jan 18, 2010
Jan 17, 2010
Jan 16, 2010
Walking toward me is a 6'4" black tranny*** dressed in Rodarte for Target**** sucking on a diet coke*****.
I exit the parking lot, only to see....walking past a new Pupuseria******, just past the Cao Daiist******* temple, an Amish family of three....in full regalia, I'm talking straw hats, bonnets, beards, the whole shebang******* seemingly making their way to Burlington Coat Factory.