Monday, June 22, 2015

On Mythology

Not too long ago, I came upon this quote of Tennessee Williams’, captured by James Grissom in his book, Follies of God:
One wakes up in the morning and reaches for eyeglasses, coffee, and a myth. You can see that one needs vision, energy, and that myth. Otherwise, the day is simply impossible to face, endure, survive.
About a week later, I was reading, and my mind began to wander (as it is wont to do these days), and that quote crept back into my consciousness.

I idly asked myself, “What is your myth, Glenn?”

And, without pausing for a moment to think or take a breath, I answered, “Prometheus.”

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and I shivered.

Damn.

Do you think it’s too late for me to haul myself over to the exchange counter and see if I can’t replace this thing with a little something not so snug in the shoulders and hips...?


Tuesday, June 16, 2015

I'm Comin' Out

How wonderful to live in this day and age of limitless possibilities! Glass ceilings lie shattered in shards. We are free to be...you and me!

At last, I am ready to embrace the real me, the me I have kept hidden behind the walls of this Cajun-Sicilian closet—no, prison cell—for so many years.

In humble pride, I now reveal myself to you, the person I can, at last, bring forth.

My family, my friends, allow me to introduce to you the true me. Here me now as I speak the words I've long desired to say:

I self-identify as a six-foot, blue-eyed blonde. Around thirty-five years old, give or take a couple of months.

I hope with all my being you can welcome this new man-child with open arms and open hearts. Thank you.

Call me...Buff.


Thursday, June 11, 2015

Dipping Our Toes in the Meta Pool

I brought Bobby out to get his hair cut today.

We went to a new place (well, new to us) called Two Guys Cutting Hair. It’s run by these two guys, see, and what they do is (wait for it) they cut hair. Guy hair, lady hair, by appointment or just by walking in the door and saying something like, “Hey, you two guys, you! Can one of you cut my hair?”

I like the name of the place, too: Two Guys Cutting Hair. It’s like post-modern or something like that. Meta, maybe, even. In the first place, it’s catchy, and in the second place, it actually tells you what the place is and what the two guys who run it do there. To me, it sort of harkens back to the olden days of history when we were just beginning to call ourselves by our first and last names. When John Smith was called Smith because what he did for a living was smithing, you know. Or when Todd Bricklayer was called Bricklayer because he laid bricks. When Brixie Von Tussle was called Brixie because she was a good friend of Todd’s, and her sister was called Trixie because...well, you get the picture.

So simple yet so deep.

This little place, Two Guys Cutting Hair, is in a bigger place called the New Orleans Healing Center, which is more like a psychic healing center than a place you’d bring your baby to when she got the croup. But actually all it really is is a new-age hipster shopping mall for the Creative Class where you can go to buy the kind of stuff your mother used to throw away when she needed room to replace that old stuff with newer stuff that did the same thing and cost more money which implied that it was better even though it may not have weighed as much.

Know what I mean?

They even have a grocery store in the building. They call it a Co-op. I guess that means you have to show a spirit of cooperation if you want to buy their stuff. At least, that’s what I tried to do when it occurred to me that I was almost out of grits and salad dressing and completely out of lettuce and decided to replenish the old larder. And since Bobby’s haircut was taking some time, I hauled myself to the Co-op.

It turned out this place was not your run-of-the-mill grocery store, co-op or otherwise, but a health-food store, very vegan. The kind of place where the common core of customer sports a buzz cut, a modified Hasidic beard, and lots of tattoos—and so do the guys. And nobody smiles. I guess nobody smiles because eating right is serious business. No, a mission. A serious mission. A by-God serious mission with a capital S and M.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t find any grits, Quaker or otherwise. But I did find some off-brand rice cakes. They had no lettuce in the veggie section, and what greens they had looked limp and sticky, so I let that pass. I found some vegan salad dressings, though, and some artificial-cheddar-cheese flavored, vegan, puffy snacks I thought I’d try.

I thought it was funny, too, that every single item I was buying turned out to cost four dollars and some cents. How did they ever get that to work out that way?  And even though the people there were all vegan and hairy and dedicated to living life the right-and-only-properly-respectful way, they did take plastic, so I was able to make it out of there with my little bundle of healthy eats all packaged in paper bags with handles—which make great present wrappings for birthdays and holidays and such like.

Bobby’s haircut turned out swell, too, and I should mention that the two guys cutting hair at Two Guys Cutting Hair only charge fifteen dollars for a basic cut.

Everything else is extra!

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