The Perils of Auto Correct, What’s Wrong With Me?

I honestly could not believe this story when I read it.

http://www.foxnews.com/food-drink/2018/05/22/south-carolina-grocery-store-censors-summa-cum-laude-on-graduation-cake-family-says.html

And, I have to ask, what’s wrong with me?  Last night I stopped for takeout from Hot Wok.  It was good.  Then, nestled under Earl’s quilt, in my jimmies, dark outside, porch lights on, settled in to watch an INSP original movie I taped called, “County Line.”  Tom Wopat from that now outlawed series, “The Dukes of Hazard” plays an aging ex-sheriff in a southern town.  I settled in to watch a show filled with a cliche ridden friend who was also a sheriff, cowboy hats, loving but tough women who bossed their tough men around like putty in their hands, barbecue joints, cliche ridden bad guys, more rusted out cars in overgrown fields with rusty chain link fences, cowboy boots, Robin Hood-like repartee with a southern twist on it, more barbecue and beer and cornbread in milk (yuck)…and, I sat there and just lapped it all up having a fine time.  Oh, and car racing.  Swaggers, fights, guns, guns and more guns, even that stupid side-holding gun grasp when the bad guy shoots someone that, in real life, would take off his hand.  The only think lacking was a hound dog.  How could they have overlooked that?  Tom Wopat has aged in an interesting way that is not unappealing. Weathered and cowboy looking.  He was always likable and it’s good to see him again.  His character is an ex sheriff who’s wife has died, has a daughter in the service deploying overseas, and he has a heart condition but that doesn’t stop him from barbecue, burgers, beer and cornbread dunked in milk, and again to that latter, I say, yuck.  And let me turn now to that cultural icon of a program now banished due to misunderstanding, The Dukes of Hazard.  How can they deprive me getting to know Boss Hogg?  I very well remember someone one Sunday morning in the early 90’s watching a DOH rerun with me, and I think they nearly almost split a gut at the sight of that crazy portrait of a wacky Confederate officer hanging on the wall of someone’s home.  Sometimes I think snobs must be the most insecure people in the world.

Mitch Landrieu, ironically enough, while the city flooded again because of heavy rain, received the Profiles in Courage award from the Kennedy’s for his “courage” in removing the Confederate monuments from New Orleans.  How about they rename it, the Profiles in Caving to Your Base award.

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Wisdom On A Teabag

Over the weekend, as I steeped a cup of herbal joint relief tea, I read the tag on the teabag. It said, Nature does not hurry yet everything is accomplished. I needed those words. I watched one of my favorite, favorite Westerns, Open Range. Filled with gorgeous scenery, endless cups of coffee, good dogs, good villains, a crusty yet amiable trail boss and the silent still waters run deep cowpoke who’s really tender inside and lonely, and the woman past her first youth, who says things like, I’ve held my love inside me for a long time waiting for someone…the kind of woman the other characters describe as a handsome woman who would make someone a fine wife. One of my favorites with Robert Duval, Kevin Costner, Annette Benning and Michael Gambon. and. Really terrific thunderstorm.

Crazy Dreams

My streak of crazy dreams has continued to a week-long duration.

  1.  Last week, dreamed I was in Manhattan looking for a certain residence.  It was an apartment building, posh, and I walked in bold as you please and asked for your place.  I was guided up stairs carpeting in cream with with green and blue swirls in them to a huge suite of rooms filled with VIPs.  One of whom was a stout archbishop clothed in green and violet glowing robes; his miter and eye glowed and he held out his hand to me to kiss his glowing green and purple archbishop’s ring as he held his crozier.  And I was wearing a white lab coat over my street clothes.  And then, you joined the party and all who were waiting for you, a young man again, with short black hair and a suit and you were awkward and unwilling to join in and as you made your unconscious way over to me, I took your hand and said, “I am Jeanne Frois,” and you froze into a wooden statue who could not believe his eyes.
  2.  You and I were making movie together, the director was MS.  There was a dance routing I had to perform on wood blocks to make noise dressed as Sally Bowes in the movie, “Cabaret” when she performs the “Mein Herr” number.  I told you,
    “you’re making a movie, you’re making a movie!”  And added, this flick is going to bomb.  And you told me, “never!”  You wore a baseball-type cap in this one.
  3. And then, last night.  I was in a house where I lived, only I don’t live there, and I looked into the Western sky and saw seven twisters drop down from the sky.  I ran inside for protection and suddenly there was this long banging against my windows (under which was a porch).  I looked outside in the wind and the rain and saw that the seven twisters had turned into seven American Indians in warpaint and feathers banging their tomahawks on my window.  I yelled at them to get away, get away as the house rattled around me, and you know,  they got away.    There must be a novel brewing somewhere inside me…

Last week, as I was getting ready for work, I switched the overhead lights attached to the ceiling fan in my bedroom.  This cast a shadow of my head on the wall before me perfectly…I could plainly see all the short stubble of broken hairs standing on the top of my head…it looked a Fuller brush…weird.

 

The Royal Wedding

I really didn’t plan to watch it.  Sometimes all of schlock and foaming at the mouth over the Royal family is like eating too much cotton candy and then riding a roller coaster at the fair.  Or maybe it’s the way some of the female co hosts on Fox and Friends carry on that just makes me want to go Bleach.  But by some crazy design, I awakened at 5AM Saturday and with coffee turned on the tell and there it was.  And I was hooked.  Prince Harry has, since growing up, long reminded me of Henry VIII.  I remember when Fergie and Andrew married, it was reported Fergie was terrified of having little Harry in the wedding party because he was so mischievous and would like pull something as she was going up the aisle.  I think her train snagged on something, and she gasped, and everyone said he thought Harry was the culprit.  A Bad Little Kid.  But you know, Saturday morning I watched Harry and William walk into St. George’s together and I could help but marvel that they were both two fine specimens of young manhood.  I watched them sit together on the altar talking to one another and as crazy as it seems, they were both so spending, my heart swelled with pride and I said, “Diana’s boys.”  How proud she would have been of them, and surely is, watching from heaven.  And I know how both of them, and especially Harry, fought for the right to be with the woman he loved regardless of her class, nationality, race, background.  And I thought, that’s Diana in him. Meghan Markle made a beautiful bride, and her wedding dress, so simple and elegant was one of the most beautiful wedding gowns I have ever seen.  She is 36, and he is 33.  Through Bishop Curry’s sermon, I kept expecting someone to jump up and yell, Can I get an Amen?!  I had to turn it off when the procession to the castle started and the women newscasters, and Shepherd Smith starting gushing.  In spite of her position, sometimes I think Ainsley Earhart isn’t exactly the brightest of lights.  But, I’m glad I watched it, and crazily enough through it all, I was happiest for Diana.  What an influence her legacy has brought to all of…British monarchs and royalty following their hearts when they marry.

Billy Cannon

Can it really be that Billy Cannon was 80 years old and died yesterday in St. Francisville? Oh my God, the flight of all the years.  He was the only LSU Tiger to ever win the Heisman Trophy, and his 89-yard Halloween run against Ole Miss is still legendary.  Every little  boy was fascinated by Billy Cannon, and, having an older brother, that spilled over to me.  I still remember that old cannon left in the field on Claiborne Avenue with the name, “Billy” painted on it.  Still remember watching my father and brother going bonkers in the kitchen on Joliet Street that Halloween night listening to the game at the kitchen table.  Still remember all the accounts of the mist and the fog wisps that floated through Tiger Stadium and the field that Halloween night.  And I still remember with fondness  all the Halloween evenings through the years watching the news as they always showed the clip of that legendary run.  They said he was very fast for so large a man, and he was like a bull charging down the field.  Really a little hard to think that young man became an elderly man and died yesterday.  This picture is from his Halloween run.  He made mistakes in his life, but corrected them, and he died a beloved Louisiana icon.

Flooded Friday

Just before it was nearly 4:30pm, my quittin’ time, all hell broke loose in the atmosphere. Thunder, lightening, rain and hail kept falling. The ride home was filled with air to ground lightening with thunder sounding a second later, street flooding thR Marie dealt with handily, and running to my front door under fire from torrential rain and constant lightening prongs. Watching the news saw we were under water. 6.6 inches of rain fell on Jefferson Parish in under 45 minutes. Made it home okay, albeit harrowing, got Teddy out of the window with the lightening, cleaned up, fixed a Margarita and snuggled with Teddy who no doubt needed comforting as I watched the local news. cozy and rain swept in my jammies under Earl’s quilt. Found validation about my Tarot reading where the son was involved. In the future have your children submit entries under a nom de plume, and don’t include a famous parent in the project. That way you will climate the threat of bloodsucking asskissers and will rove whether or not the work is of any worth…and then again the true side of me say, leave the hell to their own devices and come here and be free with me. You know you don’t,,’t want all that crap

I have been taping and watching a BBC series called,  “Lark Rise to Candle Ford,”. I truly enjoy it.  ,Every line that is spoken by any of the characters all makes me think of invitations to High Tea.

Aractets

Mom

This morning I dreamed of Mom.  We were living in a crazy old house laughing with one another, and then she told me, “Jeanne, I’ll have to take you to the ferry so you can go to work.”  I panicked and told her I didn’t want to go to the ferry.  She was very comforting in this dream, and convinced me to go.  She took me there, to what was supposed to be the Canal Street Ferry and in a way it was, but the Mississippi River was sweeping and beautiful, bathed in a radiant silver light and as I got on it, she told me she was leaving me, and I said, Mom, no, but she was gone and I awakened and the sadness had left me.  I think I know very well what that dream means, it was a passage, and a sign to move forward, it was a loving message.  And one of the most beautiful dreams I’ve ever had.

This Mother’s Day

I am sad this year for Mother’s Day.  Find that I miss Mom so much today, even the thought of the Harry Caray story makes me sad.  Don’t feel very much like talking or saying anything, and just want to be left alone by everyone, like those little creepy toddlers who go, “yeeauhhhhhh!” when someone get near them.   A Mood.