Archives

Since You Left

February 1, 2003 was the worst day of my life, but I think you know that. I’d like to think, if the situation was reversed, it would have been equally as devastating to you.

You left.

I don’t kick myself because I had turned off my phone and didn’t get the call when Ellen made it. This wasn’t Dad or Gram with some warning that they were about to leave. You and I had a great conversation the day before. Truth? I was surprised as hell that you picked up the phone. That almost never happened. You know how, after someone has suddenly left, the stories come out? “Just out of the blue, Jeremiah called/dropped by/sent an email/text/Facebook comment and the next day, he was gone.” That phone call the day before was one of those stories. I don’t remember what the hell we talked about, except I was light-headed after giving blood, and you ragged on me for being an airhead blonde because of it. And I said, “Fuck you.” You said, “Fuck you.” . And a bunch of other shit. Our usual shit. I think I forgot to say, “Talk to you later.” That was odd. I always sign off a phone call that way. Maybe that was another sign that, no, I wouldn’t talk to you later. Or ever again.

It’s been almost fifteen years. I lost you, I lost Toulouse, I lost my housing (through my own folly). That was the last time I had a home of my own. 2003 was a real festering turd of a year. And I am not recovered from it. Your departure is still a raw, oozing wound. It doesn’t heal. It won’t heal. I don’t want it to heal. I don’t want to get over losing my soul sister.

Yeah, sister. You have one of your own. I have two. I think it’s fair to say, we were closer to each other than to them. I couldn’t and cannot talk to Kathy and Laura like I could talk to you. I was like the alien in the midst of the Thatcher family. We kept each other’s confidences. We talked about stuff that would get me puzzled and dismissive “You’re weird” looks from K&L. You and me, though, we got each other.

I don’t think it’s a secret that I needed you more than you needed me. You had my back. Maybe I took it for granted. Yeah, I did. I have no idea what it was I did for you. Made you laugh? Got you into some Lucy & Ethel type capers? I think maybe part of my ongoing, decade-and-a-half-long grief is guilt. Guilt for taking, for not giving back enough, for being selfish. I took your presence in my life for granted, and I also took it for granted that we would be on the Earth together for decades. 1979-2003, not even a quarter-century. it’s not fair.

You’ve missed a lot. You missed me coming in third on Jeopardy. You missed me on “Reba.” (and Ms. McIntyre was kind and gracious when I almost burst out crying all over her because you would have loved that I was on her show).  I needed to talk to you about what I saw of Dad with dementia and how scary that shit was. You weren’t here to consult over the issues that drove the final breaking wedge between the rest of the Thatchers and me. If ever I needed a soul sister, that was then.

You should have been here to torment me on my fiftieth birthday. I should have been able to mock you on YOUR fiftieth birthday. Coward. You skipped Earth before that milestone. Forty years was enough, I guess.

By the way, I’m the one who put the yellow rose in the bouquet that was the center of your memorial service. Ellen went along with it. And I’m sure you dumped the picture into that bouquet. Our final “Fuck you” to each other?

You’re the one who kept my feet to the fire writing. I should have been able to consult you about publishing. By all rights, the first copy should have gone to you, not just the dedication.

I still have trouble referring to those closest to me as “best friend.” That’s your job, and fuck you, Bitch, you quit on me. What happens if I call someone else “Best Friend”? Is she going to quit on me, too?

I’m angry, still. How dare you leave? And should I feel guilty over being angry? Doesn’t change the fact that I’m angry, bereft, abandoned. Yeah, you were over a year younger than me, but you had more big sister energy. I feel like I’ve been  cut loose since then, tumbling from a plane without a parachute in a high wind. It’s not your fault, but I wonder if I’d have been blown around so much or made so many bad decisions if you were still here. Or maybe you would have ended the friendship because I’m too much of a pain in the ass.

I don’t know. You had a lot of nerve to be able to get tanked, barf,  and not have a hangover the next day. Such a bitch for being smarter, better self-disciplined,  and more responsible than me. How dare you have your shit together.

Whatever.

I miss you. Every day. I just thought you should know.

 

 

 

Finding the Path Around Self-Created Obstacles

Prepping for For Love of Books and Florida on Saturday (Got your tickets?), working the day job, dealing with the boo boo foot…life has challenges.

The subtitle of this web space is “Finding Inner Strength.” As i see it, that includes overcoming obstacles of your own creation.

For instance, my lack of effective marketing for my books. All on me.

I’m rather pleased with myself tonight. I had 2 issues: bookmarks promoting my Susan Thatcher books that had no contact info and promotional items (chocolate lips) for Monique DeSoto that had no context. No contact info.

Enter QR Codes.

If you’re not familiar with the term, QRs are those boxy-looking abstract designs that you can scan and they’ll take you to a website or a coupon. One of these:

Susan Thatcher QR Amazon or this Monique DeSoto Facebook QR

Yes, they work. Try them.

With the purchase of Avery labels (8293 rounds), I was able to correct both issues – slap a label with a QR code onto the items.

Image may contain: food

Chocolate lips become a marketing tool.

Image may contain: jewelry Image may contain: food

Oh yeah, I made bracelets, too.

Mind you, I’ve been in a funk over the past few days. I haven’t made a lot of money at these signings (but they are fun and I make friends), some of the money that I’d set aside for it had to go to new brakes, my foot is bugging me; I wasn’t into it and was ready to stay home and eat the table fee as a sunk cost. However, with various friendly boots applied to my backside (and some well-timed praise for what I make, book and bracelet-wise), I found it within myself to string together those bracelets, go through extended nonsense with my printer to make those labels, and get out of my own way.

I feel better for having done so. I posted those pictures on the attendee group in Facebook and got an order for a bracelet. Those bookmarks have been bugging me; now they don’t. Scanning the code will take you to my Amazon page where you can buy books. The lips? That link will take you to Monique DeSoto’s Facebook page (and Monique got some inspiration for the next funnydirty short while in the shower).

A couple of Blackened Voodoo Lagers (by Dixie. If you’re not in Nawlins, Total Wine can help you) helped, too.

Sometimes, you need to grab yourself by the scruff and just do it, you know?

 

You’re a Wonder, Wonder Woman

So, “Wonder Woman” opened this past weekend and it’s a big hit (It’s also a great movie. I have pre-ordered it for the permanent collection). Yes, our film culture is awash in superhero movies, both good and bad, mostly portrayed by white men. And it has taken YEARS to bring the Amazing Amazon to the big screen. They got it right.

Let me explain a few things:

I was born in 1961 and part of my early TV watching was “Batman” starring Adam West and Burt Ward. (I don’t think Robin ever got out of the giant clam. I think they cancelled the show). I never bought or read comic books, but boy, did I want to be a hero. I wanted to right wrongs, and make the world a better, safer place. When Batgirl was added to the Batman cast, I was in heaven. That could be me, kicking bad guys (she never threw punches) and mysteriously disappearing after the fight was won. Of course, she had to be rescued a few times. It was the 60s.

I don’t think I knew who Wonder Woman was until the “Super Friends” cartoon started airing on ABC, and I watched that because of Batman. The only episode I remember is one where the Justice League (and a bunch of other people) were being turned into zombies and the “cure” was tying them to dead trees with dead branches. (Somewhere, Rick Grimes and Darryl are laughing their asses off at that)

And here she is with my main man.

Here was a woman holding her own with the guys.  I didn’t care for the costume, but she was getting it done.

Understand: The Women’s Movement was still active and the ERA was still on the table (Fuck Phyllis Schlafley for eternity. She should have been the first warning shot that “Christians” were going to force their regressive agenda on the rest of us). We had Bella Abzug, Gloria Steinem, and Betty Friedan. I didn’t watch “Super Friends” regularly (my Dad developed a strict “One hour of cartoons on Saturday morning” policy and I would choose “Bugs Bunny/Road Runner”).

Even Batgirl got in on the action:

Wonder Woman was developed by a psychologist named William Marston and she was supposed to be a less violent response to Batman and Superman. Marston was a feminist (and had an interesting family life, but that’s for you to read on Wikipedia) who had a bondage kink, thinking that the powerful should relax and learn to enjoy it. And she was bound up, but she always broke free. Some see it as a metaphor for women breaking the bonds of misogyny. We’re still working on it.

Whoever draws these things has no concept of gravity, musculature, or how clothing stays in place.

Marston also developed the polygraph test. That golden lasso that makes one tell the truth? Guess where that came from. WW was created as a feminist icon. Of course, there are the segments of the population who believe that women who want equality with men are just bitter man-haters who can’t get (or don’t want) a man and they have applied the lesbian/bisexual label to her. An episode of “The Mary Tyler Moore Show” had Mary trying to relate to a boyfriend’s comic book-reading son by telling him how much she loved Wonder Woman. The kid cut it short by saying, “She’s too butch.” (the boyfriend didn’t last)

Not sure how her current boyfriend feels about that.

I saw myself as strong, smart, and able to right wrongs and wanted super powers so I could do that. (Starting with jumping off picnic table with an umbrella because I wanted to fly like Mary Poppins. Tell me she didn’t have super powers. And I was four years old)

 hormones were shocked into life by a short-lived “Spiderman” series on CBS and I had my first celebrity crush, Nicholas Hammond:

(Also a Von Trapp kid in “The Sound of Music.” Frederich)

Him, I wanted to be with.

 I also loved “The Six Million Dollar Man” and “The Bionic Woman,” but Jaime Sommers was a slender, athletic woman that I couldn’t relate to.

Something to keep in mind for the next section: around this time, my mother had started projecting her weight and self-image issues on to me and the campaign of harassing me about my weight, exercise, and dietary habits began, and did not end until she died.

ABC debuted “Wonder Woman” starring Lynda Carter.

She wasn’t a skinny little woman like Jaimie Sommers or Charlie’s Angels. Nobody around me called Lynda Carter “fat.” She was allowed to be smart on the show, too. Nobody told her that boys don’t like it when girls are smarter than they are, or called her a “showoff.” Diana Prince would find a place to hide, take off her glasses, spin and POW!, there was Wonder Woman running to the rescue (I noticed that when she ran, the spike heels were replaced by flats).

She did the rescuing and saving.

“Star Wars” came on the scene and I moved on from people in costumes to Jedis, because robes seemed more practical and I had recently read “A Gift of Magic” by Lois Duncan, so I was into telekinesis and extraordinary mind power.

Flash  forward a few decades. I’m middle-aged and focused on other things.

I saw the publicity stills of Gal Gadot for “Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice” and my thought was “Good casting. Looks like they got it right.”

I’ve been to all the Batman and Superman movies from Michael Keaton and Christopher Reeve on down to Ben Affleck and Henry Cavill. And that movie was not great. However, during the climactic battle sequence, when Batman is about to become a Bat grease spot,

https://youtu.be/bX8VzUvCke8

They even gave her a killer guitar riff for theme music.

Yes, Marvel has the Black Widow and Scarlet Witch as part of the Avengers (and I prefer Marvel to DC because they have a better sense of humor). But they’re part of the group and need saving by one of the guys  from time to time.

Thursday night, Wonder Woman did the saving (probably the DC film franchise as well as Steve Trevor and a Belgian village).

I met a woman wearing these:

They are for sale TO ADULTS on Amazon. (Perfect retailer)

Her husband told me, “She’s been waiting 45 years for this movie.”

I guess I was, too.

 

 

Memorial Day Perspective

From the Department of Veterans Affairs website:

“Three years after the Civil War ended, on May 5, 1868, the head of an organization of Union veterans — the Grand Army of the Republic (GAR) — established Decoration Day as a time for the nation to decorate the graves of the war dead with flowers. Maj. Gen. John A. Logan declared that Decoration Day should be observed on May 30. It is believed that date was chosen because flowers would be in bloom all over the country.

It was not until after World War I, however, that the day was expanded to honor those who have died in all American wars. In 1971, Memorial Day was declared a national holiday by an act of Congress, though it is still often called Decoration Day. It was then also placed on the last Monday in May, as were some other federal holidays.”

On June 6, 1944, in Operation Overlord, the Allies (USA, UK, Canada, Australia, Free France, New Zealand, Belgium, Greece, Poland, Denmark, Czechoslovakia, Netherlands, Norway) made a major push into northern continental Europe through the beaches of Normandy in France.

Over 10,000 men died, but the objective was achieved and Germany surrendered 11 months later.

In September 2013, two artists etched over 9,000 silhouettes into the sand of those beaches to commemorate the soldiers and civilians who died on that day.

http://www.thisiscolossal.com/2013/09/the-fallen-9000/

I grew up in Rutland, Vermont. Rutland is divided in Rutland City and Rutland Town. I grew up in Rutland Town. Current population: City 16,495 as of 2010. Town: 4,038 as of 2000 (statistics from Wikipedia).

Rutland City would have lost 55% of its population. Rutland Town would have been eradicated twice over.

Think about that for a moment.

And that was just one day. One battle. One war.

Not the first. Not the last.

It is the ultimate sacrifice by some for the greater good of the many.

One final link: