14 posts from May 2009

I am very happy to see this book on Memphis photographer  William Eggleston.  The Whitney has done a fabulous job of selecting images from 40 years worth of work.

Who better to document Graceland than Eggleston.  I think The King would be proud.

  Maybe it's because I'm from The South, but I can feel the humidity pouring out of these images.  I smell cut grass and puddle water.

Any Big Star folks out there?  This should take you back.

Any shower fans out there?

Do you smell the puddle water, too?

I adore this particular photo for its resemblance to my Aunt Frida.  Frida's hair was pink, but the dress and settee are correctly colored.

If you would like to hear me read a paragraph that accompanies this you will have to click over to Read To Me Tuesday, which is something that Mook, I, and a few other tumblrs do over there at, ummmm... Tumblr.

Share a song you loved when you were a little kid.

OK. 

Yeah.  Back in the day we loved to crank up some wax cylinders of Roger Miller on the phonograph.  I remember it like it was yesterday...

I'm baaaaack. 

I brought drinks.

After work Friday we went to the 25th Annual Greek Food Fest at Annunciation Greek Orthodox.   Mr. Monkey and I try to go every year, barring horrid weather. 

We've had about two weeks of rain here and, according to the weather channel, we are something like 6 inches above average rainfall for the year.  Yesterday turned out sunny though.  Driving home from work I was chagrined to see that wile I was nestled away in my office the temperature had risen to 96 degrees.  Without looking, i would guess that the humidity was about 80%.  We waited until after seven and it was still 89 degrees outside.  But I checked my camera batteries, put some cash and a collapsible shopping bag in my pocket, and we took off. 

I think there were thousands of people there when we finally it the pavement.  The pavilliion area with the dancers was a sea of humanity.  When I finally jockeyed for a position with a view the stage it was the portion of the show devoted to people who funky dance to sikh-hop in brightly colored pajamas.  Oh, well.  Enough of that so we trundled off to scope out the foods.  I queued up for a pastitsio platter and Mr. Monkey went off to find where the baby sheeps were being roasted and served with pita. 

After about five minutes I actually found the end of the line I was looking for and began my 15 minute relationship with the other ladies in the line.  We discussed the weather-- which was pleasantly breezy and tolerable in the shade.  We discussed how to pronounce pastitsio, what was in falafel, and exactly what makes that wilted lettuce and feta cheese salad so damn good when you know that it is just wilted iceburg lettuce with vinegar and feta cheese.  When we were just about to join hand and sing cumbaya we got to the counter where I scored the pastitsio platter and extra spanikopita.  Again I had a shot to see the stage and this time it was the Irish jug dancers.  They all looked to be about twelve or thirteen years old.  Pretty cute, but not exactly eastern. 

Mr. Monkey had his sausage and his kebab and loed knows what else.  When we met back up we actually found a couple of seats beneath the trees and plopped down to nosh for a bit. 

Then some other stuff happened and more conversations were had with more strangers.  We noticecd that the lines were so long in all directions that they actually formed a grid of perpendicular lines.  Note to planning committee:  next year, stanchions and bendy lines. 

We hit the shopping area in the fellowship area.  It is huge but it was also packed with peoples.  Mr. went to the cookie shop and I started looking at shinys pretties.  With about a million other people.  But I elbowed my way in and pawed at many shiny, beady things.  I wanted to get something to match a bracelet from last year, but there were no black eyes.  Instead I got a ring with some bright green eyes on it.  I should have illustration.  But, I forgot to tell, my camera has just enough battery to come on and tell me how screwed I am.  Anyway, hence the cell phone photos.  Sorry. 

There were a couple of booths of matrioshka dolls, lots and lots of matrioshka dolls.  Jack Bauer, Barry Obama, Bob Marley, John Lennon, Scoobie ad Shaggy, Homer Simpson, Batman, Harry Potter, and some so bizarre that I have probably already blocked from my memory.

The raid on the cookie concession was a success.  Enough cookies and baklava to last us a couple of week... or a couple of days?  Hmmm.  We shall see.

I saw a few ladies walking through the crows in flowing, jingly, colorful native dress. I am sure they performed mesmerizing dances onstage.  Just not while I was watching. 

They also had a nice selection of the scarves with the coins around the edges.  Yep.  Just what I wanted to get Mr. Wonder Bra Mook for his birthday, which was yesterday.  They are so Gogol Bordello.  You know that he'd wear it around the house.  When he shakes it for Bootsie.

  

I meant to get this Sexy Saturday post up much sooner...

but I had to sort my receipts,

and do my recycling.

Urge U.S. Interior Secretary Ken Salazar and Commerce Secretary Gary Locke to withdraw the Bush administration's last-minute change to the Endangered Species Act "Polar Bear" 4(d) rule using the authority granted by President Obama. If Secretaries Salazar and Locke fail to reverse President Bush's destructive rule by May 10th, some of our most vulnerable wildlife will lose the legal protection they need to survive.

Take action today! (Which is to say take action no later than tomorrow!)

Oh, nevermind...  They're fucked.

Today I got wind of a new all-time low for whoreishness from the QotD.  Allstate (Yes, that Allstate.  AND that Allstate) is sponsoring one of those dismal should-I-just-jump-off-a-bridge-instead questions about a "federal regulatory overhaul."

I am not implying that AllState is the only insurance company who has adopted predatory practices, just the best-known one.

But I digress. I had to see this new QotD with my own eyes.  And after trying and retrying off and on for the past 6 hours I finally got something besides this:

So, at this point my rage toward Allstate is only surpassed by my rage toward Vox/Six Apart. 

Oh, Randy Mantooth.  You make me actually *miss* the 70s.

And while you are reminiscing about the hot men of yesteryear you might want to check out the beefcake over at Plaidstallions.com.