I wouldn’t let him do me with someone elses’ dick.
Curtsey to Adrastos for this.
Betts and I would like to wish everyone Merry Christmas.
Tonight we go to have our annual Christmas Eve Dinner at La Cote Brasserie. (I’ll be sleeping withy visions of seafood in my dreams tonight.)
For over twenty years I was heavily involved in the Toys For Tots programs in S.F. and Indiana. Being “The Bookseller”, and having great kid’s sections, I’d always bring a range of books to cover the development years to these drives. This year I returned to the fold.
Saturday evening we took a friend out for his B-Day dinner (he’s had four at last count) and he was too tired to go with us to the bar or stay and watch a movie with us. Betts and I decided that we NEEDED to get OUT of the hovel, so we just made our way down to the Starlight so we could have some peaceful talking with friends and drinking time before the show started… yes, Drag shows which we normally don’t do because the music is so damned loud that your brain cells die.
We finally find a parking place, walk into the bar and realize we forgot it was Toys For Tots night. It started with a Magic show and then proceeded to… fuck me! A Drag show for the kiddies. (We LGBT folks are funny that way) It was one of the best, funniest things I’ve witnessed here in the City of Oddness. And since we, in our total involvment about getting out of the hovel and into our REAL HOME, totally forgot was going down that night. The acts were so good and hilarious we tipped the performers well and watched as they stuffed the money jar for more toys for the little ones. It was tres kewl… we got to help bring a smile to some little faces this Season.
Now we have invites for the Pub on Wednesday for their Toys For Tots gig, and we decided that we would bring some toys this time. This evening past saw us crawling into Walmart, beat from having to go check on wall tile for the baths only to hear that, “This line is discontinued”, other materials shit too, but we did buy the side lights for the Dining room.
An aside Gentle Readers: after spending twenty years in RETAIL HELL, I don’t go to stores that don’t sell food, catz stuffs or hardware during this time of year. I hate the shopping frenzy that goes on between T-Day and X-Mas, but… we were buying toys (and getting a small ham) for kids (or is that kidz, or spawn? *NOLA Blogger term*)
So we enter the Toy section (one year Betts ran a Toy section. In a different year I spent five weeks being Santa in a freakin’ sleigh… OUTSIDE in a Jersey winter), and I’m totally lost. Aisle after aisle of toys that are all about TV shit. Both of us wanted to get Gender-neutral toys (no guns or other weapons, thank you). What to get? And then it hit me: these toys are for kids who’s families don’t have spare money for dolly costumes or a construction man kit that requires the parents provide a bulldozer… accessories are expensive, as are the batteries to power the devices that make them speak or move. Most of the time this crap breaks. Soon the toy will lose it’s attraction.
So we agreed on getting things for the little ones, ya’s know: four and younger. We searched the aisles. I wanted to get a bag of blocks, and Betts wanted to find something else. She found a darling Pooh Bear and I found a good set of blocks. We took the toys, and the ham, to the checkout counter and got the Hell out of there.
Here’s my point in all of this: when it comes to tots, they are little, and all the modern gizmos mean little to these tykes. A bear that can be cuddled (without the use of batteries), or a set of building blocks that don’t require motors or power sources are the building blocks of imagination, creativity… learning and caring. These are the types of toys I remember as a child. (Later my folks gave me the Chemistry set they sat upon for years… I blew a hole out of my bedroom once. I used my money from mowing lawns to be able to buy more chemicals… )
BTW- my folks asked me what I wanted when I was eight, and I answered “nothing but Sir Hoyle’s book on Astronomy please” (they had given me a small telescope the year before). It was $40 back in the mid-Sixties (very expensive to our family), 400 pages, 2/3ds of which were physics I didn’t understand… I told them I wanted nothing else… no toys or a bike, nothing but that book. That was my gift that year. They had stirred the interests that helped lead me out of my family’s poverty and into a new world. I wound up becoming a Nuclear Engineer who went into History and Cultural Studies. I “owe” my life to those two crazy people who honored my desires. Their actions opened multiple universes for me.
Where I’m going with this is that: through programs such as these, we donors can help “prod” a child’s future. Creativity and caring when they are little, and informative and challenging as they get older. It is our gifts to them… and they should never be financially challenging to the families. These gifts should be for learning and challenging. To love and to learn.
These are the kind of gifts that create Humanity and inspire the older ones to aspire to something different. Isn’t that what this is all about?
And please, please, please help with these programs. The Future is in their hands.
Enjoy the Season of Lights, and Be Blessed!
All I’m going to say is that I need more crosses and nails…. Here.
what we who claim to love our city and Her people do this week.
What we do or don’t do this week determines the Future. These words come from the Lady. It is a prophecy, and She is serious.
Do you care about Humanity and this world? What kind of place would you want your children to inhabit? What kind of legacy do you wish to be associated with your life?
This week has been nothing but pain. The house is coming along, but I keep seeing the faces of the boys that died during the Crisis. I’m freakin’ feeling guilty: I still live. Working through the feelings of pain, loss and guilt are nothing but torture. (Last night a friend of ours almost lost it over the death of his good friend last Christmas Eve… I had to come out of my funk in order to try to help.)
Death is no stranger to me: my mom died in my arms when I was 13. That was the start for me: I wound up dealing with the AIDS Crisis a decade later. (do you have any idea what it feels like when everyone but yourself dies in a week from your Billiards team? How about finding out that your clerks are dead?) I remember my friend Adam having to have a lobotomy due to his AIDS dementia: he couldn’t remember my name when I would show to clean his home. I remember bailing a good friend out of jail because of the medications not working well together. I remember taking my coven to the top of Bernal Heights one night to show them theÂ “void” of light over S.F. General Hospital.
I lived that life, and the now current purging of New Orleans reeks of the same shit. I will not tolerate it.
Decades ago I dedicated my life to service. I knew what the cost was, but I also understood the benefit. (not that I knew that I’d be having nightmares and B/S, not to mention acts of kindness that still haunt me.)
When the Federal Flood happened, I made my decision to fight for New Orleans. Yeppers, my partner Betts tells me to STFU at times, but I continue the fight. The catz sit on my desk whilst I’m going crazy, but they know that Grand Ma is focussed. They understand. Do you understand me?
And ya’s know what? Ya’s don’t want me to go Freya on your asses… I have a ton of catz to unleash. I don’t wish to do that.
Alright, we must fight for Public Housing. We who stand for New Orleans must be there.
We cannot allow outsiders to determine the the future of our city, our home. This place is OURS dammit! New Orleans is our place, and the mother-fucking outsiders should have no say about our future.
At the risk of getting my tail feathers singed, I was the first here in NOLA to bring up Klien’s book “The Shock Doctrine”. Here is an article from ZNet that tells it like it is.
This coming week is the time for those of us who love New Orleans to prove how much we believe in this place… the proof of the pudding when it comes to love of place. Getting our house back means little when thousands of others are denied homes.
WE ARE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER Darlin’s.
I will never be able to have a peaceful sleep in our almost fixed home if I know that there is a Grannie, or an Auntie, Uncle, Grandpa… who cries because they cannot return home, can’t be with their families.
My lament over these last few decades was that I could not die, that the Goddess would not let me die. I’ve always wondered what the reason for that shit. Now I know… the Fourth Battle of New Orleans starts soon. It’s about Humanity over dollars, a Human breath against the ticker tape from the Stock Market. The value of Life and Living…
If you have a heart, and a soul… work with us to stop the destruction of all of these homes. Please, please… don’t let this crime happen. We will pay for this in the Future if it goes down this way.
Hie thy tushies to Fritzels (733 Bourbon St.) this Sunday at 8 PM.
Lisa Lynn is celebrating her third album that night. If you like blues you just have to hear this woman…
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