Baptists never make love standing up. They're afraid someone might see them and think they're dancing!

I posted a picture of my forehead on Facebook asking my friends to "guess" what was wrong with the picture.  Two friends immediately responded.  Well, weren't they perfectly sweet to do so! Here I was bemoaning the fact that my hair, at the roots, is quite gray and these two shu-gah dumplins' rub it in like two egg suckin' dawgs! 

I spend $65 every 6 weeks to get that gray covered and highlighted.  By the second week the gray around the face, the crown, and around my ears pretty much pops up.  Bless my heart. As my "friends" pointed out very quickly their opinions about  this predicament of mine ballooned into a subject greater than me.  I nevah!  The subject turned more and more into "big hair" and the way of the south.  Ah the south, land of sweet tea, corn bread, trucks, Ava Gardner, Andy Griffth, butter beans, pecan pie, pork barbecue, chili on a hot dog, Castle Sauce, and fine manners. I quickly reaffirmed my southern roots defending my need to have big, dark and glossy hair.  This is not a nod to the 80's but to who I am, a southern, albeit Cuban, woman.

As a Southern woman I know that biscuits are way better than bagels or croissants.  We like real butter and buttermilk is a staple. Southern women, as depicted by Scarlett O'Hara, are coquettish and vain but like Scarlett we are strong as nails! Cross us and you will get a tongue lashing that in the end you won't know whether to say thank you or cower away in fear. We wear iron pants that match our shoes but we also know how to graciously accept a man's opening of a door or a tip of his hat.  We know how to support said man by uplifting him and reminding him he is so "bi-ig and sta-rong" and then closing the deal with a seductive, "come to mama shu-gah."  Ya'll know this to be true. 

As a southern woman I no longer enjoy sittin' on the front porch as air conditioning has all but ruin't the south. We suffer a morose nostalgia remembering the days of the front porch, swings and watching fireflies as we sipped ice tea from a Mason jar.  We curse the 92˚ weather that seems to last through October and then count the days for its return after the first snowfall hits the ground.  We have our flip flops at the ready and sun tan lotion close by; Off spray bottle near at hand. Skeeters rule on those hot summer days. They plumb drive ya to distraction!  

Southern folk know that Pepsi rules but then all soft drinks can be called a "coke." When asked what kind of "coke" you have to specify what type, as in I'll take a Dr. Pepper. And it is soft drink rarely soda. If Pepsi is King then Cheerwine is Queen.  RC cola is a red-headed step child of both.  Can't have an RC without thinking of moon pies (heated up) and a handful of peanuts thrown inside the glass bottle.  Heaven on a hot day. And by the way Southern women can cook!  We know how to make dumplings, chess pies, corn bread, buttermilk biscuits, a mess of collards, pintos, pork shoulder, catfish, homemade mac and cheese, fudge, coconut and carmel cake as well as a fine and bodacious poundcake. When that corn bread gets a little dry a southerner may grab a glass of buttermilk and crumble that cornbread in the glass and stir it up good.  Rye-ss and gravy rule with a side of fried okra, fried squash, and yup, you guessed it fried zucchini. We use linens to set our tables and our silver too.  We cook 3 times more food than needed in case company comes by.  Forget the Maltese Falcon, covered dish suppers are the stuff that dreams (or legends) are made.  We have thousands of casserole recipes in case of death, parties, a neighbor moves in, or someone gets sick.  We are always at the ready.  We live for those church suppers in which we'll get to sample Ms. Angel's coconut chess pie or Ms. Wanda's veggie casserole.

Southern folk are sometimes called by two names such as Mary Margaret, or Betty Sue, Ricky Bob, or Bobby Wayne.  Heck, we sometimes call each other by both first and last names, Betty Sue Williams, Ricky Bob Finch. As southern wives we may even call our husbands by both names such as "that Johnny Jones sure does love fishing ya'll." If we think you are older than us or can't really tell then you become a ma'am or sir as in "Yes Sir, I thank you for you generosity. I had no idea I was doing 75. I am ever so grateful you stopped me; I coulda hurt somebody. Lawd have mercy, you're so bi-ig and sta-rong."

A Southern girl does Christmas up big and no matter how fancy the tree or the ornaments there are magnolia leaves somewhere around the house used for decorations. During Thanksgiving we make dressing not stuffing and deviled eggs are to be included at every major meal.  Some form of jello salad may also be expected but not necessarily eaten. Easter is a time we can bring out the white shoes and it also signifies that spring has arrived not that ole Gregorian whatchamacalit calendar.  Southern gals can't wait for summer so they can high tail it to the coast and bake, their skin that is.  Calabash, Myrtle Beach, and moon light rendezvous on the dunes are treasured events. We never come home without a sand dollar(s) caught or bought. Southern women love their big hair since before the 1980's.  We are all pageant queens at heart.  You'd think we were talking about our men folk but the taller and stiffer (the hair) the happier we are.  We use endearments such as Hun, Shug-ah, sweet pea, Boo, Dah'lin, and Baby cakes, to name a few. They don't always mean a good thing even though they're said dripping in honey.   And if we say, "Bless yo, heart" then watch out cause that ain't always about pity could be pity in a negative way such as "Bless her heart she's as nervous as a whore in church."  

As to how we talk....Brian Wilson and Mike Love said it best...."The southern girls with the way they talk, they knock me out when I'm down there."  It's hard teaching phonics to young children when we know the word "boy" is one syllable and yet we say it in two Boiy-ee.  Or listen to the word "Hell" in Southern speak, "Hay-el."  Southerners are loyal to their college team, whether they attended college or not. If they are a Tarheel fan then their car is Carolina blue, their wardrobe consist of college garb, women have Tarheel pocketbooks (that's what we call our hand bags), and babies in the family never leave the house without some college outfit to advertise the family team.

As southern women we know we are always well groomed, hands well manicured, hair coiffed, matching outfit including pocketbook, no white shoes after Labor Day, and we wear plastic gloves to wash our dishes.  Your Mama and Deddy (yes, Deddy) are revered.  You listen to their stories and pass them down to the next generation always throwing out some reprobate that may prevent your child from gettin' into Duke, Carolina, or Wake Forest.  We are always afraid of what people might say.   A Southern girl has no issues with guns. It isn't unusual for your husband to all of a sudden shoot a squirrel away from the bird feeder faster than a knife fight in a phone booth all while ya'll are sitting on the back porch enjoying a summer breeze.  Oh and by the way, a redneck isn't necessarily a person living in the country.  And a redneck girl is far more dangerous than a redneck boy.  And yes, we all love our trucks.  SUVs are for sissies.

There is so much more about being a Southern woman or Southerner in general. I would love to hear your take on this subject.  I leave you with some southern speak that we use or have heard. Share your southern stories with me as you read through the following and add any Southern sayings or phrases you remember:

• If you don't stop that crying, I'll give you something to cry about!
• If a bullfrog had wings, he wouldn't bump his ass when he jumped. (When we say "if" too much)
• Close that NEWmonia hole. (close the window)
• Your ass is grass and I'm the lawnmower! (usually followed by: "Go get me a switch.")
• Don't you make eyes at me, boy! (if we rolled our eyes)
• Opinions are like assholes, some are just louder and smellier than others.  
• He's so clumsy he'd trip over a cordless phone
• He's about as handy as a back pocket on a shirt.
• That's about as useful as a trap door on a canoe.
• He couldn't carry a tune if he had a bucket with a lid on it.
• She was so tall she could hunt geese with a rake.
• She was so tall if she fell down she would be halfway home.
• He was so fat it was easier to go over top of him than around him.
• NO!! I AM NOT FALLING ASLEEP!! I was just checking for holes in my eyelids.
• Faster than a bell clapper in a goose's ass (very fast; I never understood this one, but it was my aunt's favorite.)
• Gad night a livin' (good grief!)
• Higher than a Georgia pine (drunk)
• I'm fixin' to go down the road a piece (I'm going down the road for a short distance.)
• Well, I'll just swaney! (Well, I'll be darned.)
• Don't go off with your pistol half cocked. (Don't get mad unless you have all the facts.)
• We better git on the stick! (We better get started.)
• Somebody beat him with the ugly stick. (He's not very good looking.)
• I'll knock you so hard you'll see tomorrow today. (You're gonna get it!)
• Dumb as a bucket of rocks. (Pretty dumb)
•  Oh my stars and garters 
• They don't know her from Adam's house cat 
• If you can't stand the heat, get outta the kitchen 
• Cute as a bug in a rug 
• Let it roll off you like a water of a duck's back 
• Rode hard and put up wet
• That gives me the heebies 
• "I'm happier than a dog with two peters.
•  I'll knock you in the head and tell God you died.
•  She always looks like she stepped out of a band box. 
• Act like you got some raising. 
• You're the spitting image of your mother/father. 
• She's madder than a wet hen in a tote sack. 
• Sunday go-to-meetin' clothes (best dress) 
• Fish or cut bait. (Do it or hush about it.) 
• Well he/she's just down rite sorry. (person not well thought of or respected)
•  Plumb fell off (lost weight) 
• Well, thank you, Billy Sunday (when someone said something rude)
• Running around like a chicken with it's head cut off
• Colder than a witch's titty 
• I'll jerk a knot in your tail!
• That wall is all catawampus. (crooked)
• She's got more nerve than Carter's got Liver Pills.
• You better straighten up and fly right or I'll knock your teeth down your throat and you'll spit 'em out in single file.

Ya'll come back now, heah!

Play Ball!

One of my Facebook friends posted this quote by the charming and talented Audrey Hepburn.  I've always imagined her as unaffected by her glamorous surroundings and like this quote, simple (in the best sense) and  straight forward.  I am guessing that she said this during her struggle with cancer and then wondered, as we tend to do at a certain age, what I believe. And, do we reflect on those beliefs when we are near death or catastrophes? What a lot of wasted time if we do not know ourselves and what we believe in.  How can we be? Carry on? Fight? Understand? Communicate? Survive? Laugh? Cry? Love?

As a leader I firmly believe that we have to know who we are, we have to live it, model those beliefs, and know what we would be willing to quit for, or no one will follow.  As a regular Juanita Doe that task becomes quite difficult because we are now dealing with the humanity of just being. Can work and the private me believe in the same general things?  I think so but in my case sometimes my private, non-negotiables conflict with the beliefs that must be in place in order for the whole to succeed and maintain order. 

In the movie Bull Durham, Annie and Crash very clearly state their beliefs.  Crash's famous "I believe" response to Annie came so quickly and so easily that I wondered if there was anybody out there who could just rattle off their beliefs so quickly.  No wonder at the end of his speech she seductively mutters, "Oh my."  Great line. He reeled her in because that type of response is hot with a capital H!  As Crash Davis mentors the nincompoop pitcher, Ebby Calvin Laloosh, one witnesses who Crash is without he ever so much as explaining himself.   Annie, the smartest groupie you'll ever encounter, shared the following: I know things. For instance, there are 108 beads in a Catholic rosary and there are 108 stitches in a baseball. When I heard that, I gave Jesus a chance. But it just didn't work out between us. The Lord laid too much guilt on me. I prefer metaphysics to theology. You see, there's no guilt in baseball, and it's never boring... which makes it like sex.  Whether one agrees with her "metaphysics" or not she firmly believes why she does what she does and backs it up with her story and experiences.  That takes courage my friends.

So, what do I believe?  What can I rattle off as if it were a 104 mph fast ball? Here goes:

1. I believe you need to know who you are and be who you are.  
2. I believe you must believe in your self or you are doomed to mediocrity
3. I believe you need to stop the mindset that people's opinions are important.  Not everyone will agree with you.  Don't let the need to please freeze you out of life.
4. I believe the challenges provided you through adversity are gifts to embrace.  They reinforce your inner strength, faith, and tenacity.  They remind you what is important in life.
5. I believe you need to embrace your experiences.  Share your talents and knowledge.  Annie and Crash did.
6. I believe you should never miss an opportunity to be with people you love or matter. Life is miserably short for anything less
7. I believe without courage your dreams and goals are without foundation.  It takes a lot of courage to take risk, stand up against negative people and experiences, and sometimes to really be who you are.  Courage is not an extrovert.  Some of the most courageous people I know are those willing to get up every morning and try again.
8. I believe sorry attitudes breed sorry people.
9. I believe you need to select your friends wisely
10. I believe inspiring others to follow their dreams
11. I believe you have to trust yourself.  If you don't then who will?
12. I believe that we cannot let the synthetic voices of pop culture drown yours. Speak up and mean it!
13. Wearing a black hat does not mean you're a bad guy.  Appearances can be deceiving.
14. I believe that Crash Davis was right when he said, "You be cocky and arrogant, even when you're getting beat. That's the secret. You gotta play this game with fear and arrogance" But you also have to know when.
15. I believe humor, brains, and kindness trumps money, looks, and power in a man.  
16. I believe you must respect yourself and others including all God's creatures and the earth we live in.
17. I believe you are fooling yourself in thinking knowledge isn't important in the grand scheme of things.  Book smarts help you to apply, synthesize, and finally evaluate life around you.  Not elitists but a fact.  Being smart is a gift that should not be hidden or devalued. 
18. Life smarts is also of value and should be celebrated and respected.  And finally
19. I believe that margarine is not fit for dogs, sugar is not a bad thing, and home made trumps Morton's, Spago's, Le Cirque, Sardi's, and The Russian Tea Room.
20. I believe Boar and Castle made the best sauce in the world and their onion rings and buttered steak sandwich have yet to be matched by anyone
21. I believe a southern accent is beautiful.
22. I believe looking good is the best revenge, being kind is even better
23. I believe you cannot have enough black shoes.
24. I believe that all a girl needs in her arsenal is lipstick, mascara, and a nice smile
25. I believe Cuban music and food are the best in the world
26. I believe you can find love in all the wrong places
27. I believe the arts keep our souls and spirits truly lifted and renewed
28. I believe that the children are truly our future.

Are you really committed getting into the game?  In the words of Crash Davis: You got a gift. When you were a baby, the Gods reached down and turned your right arm into a thunderbolt. You got a Hall-of-Fame arm, but you're pissing it away.  Don't piss away your gifts and opportunities.  To thine own-self be true.  Believe!

Ompaloompas

My late husband was a very practical man.  His neatness and preoccupation with maintaining equipment of any kind would drive me nuts.  Top of the list on the category of "equipment" would be his car.  I say "his" rather than "our" cars because after about the 10th year of marriage Felix bowed to Oscar and carried on to preserve his sanity.

Johnny taught me a great deal that I otherwise would have never been inclined to know, understand, or care about.  Everything had its place and there should be a place for everything.  Above all was his appreciation of the tangible rewards garnered due to hard work and diligence.  He understood that because "things" were not given freely, the hard work involved demanded that respect and responsibility be attached to the tangibles purchased, meaning their maintenance and upkeep. Respecting our property was equally as important as respecting the property of others'.  The last car he bought me was a PT Cruiser or as he liked to call it, my 20K garbage can! Poor guy.  He ordered that car for me before PT's were even in the showrooms. He took great pains in making sure I drove a nice vehicle, always keeping it clean.  It wasn't that I did not respect things or avoided the responsibility I just knew that he was always there to do it...the princess syndrome on a woman with feminist leanings was/is not attractive at all.  I blame that part of my nature on being a Pisces:-)

So what did I learn from Johnny as he modeled respect, responsibility, and neatness daily?  First and foremost, and the theme for this blog, is never ever park your car in a manner that may cause who ever parks next to it to hit and scratch the door.  Park a little crooked and far enough away that hopefully no one will park beside you.  His cars were immaculate, nary a scratch and when one was found it quickly disappeared.  I never knew what detailing a car was until he died and saw that people paid over $100 for doing what Johnny did weekly.  Huh, imagine that.  I really am diligent about not parking too close to anyone so that they can get out comfortably and possibly not hit my car door.  Having bought my current car myself I realize the effort it takes to make that monthly payment, replace tires, change the oil every 3000 miles, keeping it clean inside, and yes, pay to have it washed.  I am alone in taking care of my car's maintenance.  I am grateful to have witnessed the many rewards from taking care of what we work so hard to acquire.

So where does the Ompaloompa come in?  Saturday, I was browsing in Pier One, when the sales girl taps me on the shoulder and says, "Ma'am are you driving that black charger out front." I said yes and then asked if there was a problem.  I held my breath thinking; oh, my goodness, someone has hit my car.  But no,  she informs me that there is a woman in the store who needs to leave and does not want to pull out of her parking spot with my car beside hers."  I looked at her and asked if the car in question was a Humvee and she replied, "Yes."

"You have got to be kidding", I said to the store clerk.   "I purposely pulled in right smack dab on the curb (on the passenger side) so that the person driving the Humvee would have plenty of room to get in and not hit my door when opening their door if she had a passenger.  I go to the front of the store and see the owner of the Humvee.  She was an Ompaloompa.  Only with gold chains and a handbag bag as tall as she was.  She gave me such a scathing look of contempt that I had to bite my tongue for fear I'd be arrested.  As I walked out the door I looked at her and quietly said, "You know I need you to know that I thought about you when I parked here. I thought about your comfort as well as protecting my car and yours from any dings. You ma'am are an ungrateful and irresponsible showboat."  And then I held out my arms so she could see that there were two arm lengths between her car and mine.  "You have chosen to make no effort to provide me the same courtesy so yes, I will move my car as I do not want you imposed upon in any way and I certainly want my car in one piece."  She huffed and puffed through my monologue and stated she had an appointment and did not have time to get this, "be super careful" when she pulls out.  Wonder how many cars she has dinged otherwise with her lead-sled?  I pull my car back, yes tires screeched a little, and she opens her door as wide as possible, pulls out a step stool, and hoist her 5x5 body into her shiny new Humvee. Sits for a few seconds adjusting herself, combs her hair, puts on lipstick, and adjust her radio.  No concerns and no worries about her selfishness or my time.  

Johnny, God love ya, I have tried to keep these traits alive (caring for my car and others') but it's times like this when I want to be Messala and drive a car (chariot) with wheels where blades come out and well, you know the story of Judah Ben-Hur, throw caution to wind, and say to the person parked next to me, who doesn't give a rip about their parking space neighbor,  "Oops, here's my insurance information.  Sorry."

Hooray for Hollywood

I love TV and movies and all they offer.  As a refugee child coming to the USA in 1960, I was forced to learn a new language.  I was just getting use to the one I was learning (Spanish) and now this.  While still in Cuba, I can remember sitting on a bed with my Abuelo Paco  calling out English words that I would need to learn.  Coming to America had many challenges, most especially for my parents and all the family left behind. For me those challenges were all rolled up into one big problem...the English language.  

We arrived in Miami, Florida on May 20,1960.  That August I was enrolled as a first grader at Comstock Elementary School.  I walked 13 blocks to and from school everyday with a large group of children. Very few spoke Spanish. As I looked back I recall that the last block was a very large intersection ( 8 lanes) that today would put a parent under CPS watch for negligence.  Before crossing that thoroughfare there was a convenience store at the corner and inside were candies of all types. It was heavenly to walk in and pray you had a few pennies to purchase a Mary Jane, Chick-o-stick, or caramel of some sort.  I learned to speak English very, very quickly because of school, need to communicate wants and needs, and Hollywood.  

I became my parents' interpreter even interpreting teacher conferences.  At one meeting I let the teacher know that I was not to be forced to drink milk and that if I had to drink it I must be allowed to add Nestle's Quik chocolate or strawberry.  I hated milk, still do, and those teachers would force me to drink that entire carton!  Thank goodness they believed me and my Mami just nodded as if that was exactly what she said.  At another parent meeting I told my Mami that the teacher wanted her to know that she thought I may be retarded and that I talked too much and distracted others with my jokes and chatter. The teacher just sat there with a s**t eating grin on face as I told my Mami what she said.  We both laughed!  I turned to the teacher and said, "My Mami says that I started reading when I was 3 years old. And that I can be very bossy.  I am not retarded but you (the teacher) may be."  I made a "U" in conduct that year and had to sit behind the piano on some occasions. I was 6 years old.  All tests and assessments were given to me in English a language I was mastering both orally and as a reader which was way harder.  Needless to say sensitivity to others was not paramount in 1961.

So, how does my love of TV and movies come into play with my musings for today. Hollywood, if you will, was my window into the English language and into American culture.  Sad thing is it was not until I was in my 20's that I came to realize that this was not so much American culture as it was Hollywood ideals.  Cary Grant, James Stewart, Katherine Hepburn, and Bette Davis were but a few who taught me English.  General Hospital was my after-school tutor.  And, MGM musicals allowed me to practice listening and comprehension skills by paying attention to dialog spoken and sang then repeated back as I learned every Cole Porter, Rogers and Hammerstein, and Lowe and Hart song written. 

I tended to get in trouble at school for stating my opinion because Katherine, Bette, Jean, Rita, and Ginger all taught me not to take any bunk.  America liked it's women feisty.  Right?  Watching "Mr. Smith Goes To Washington"  taught me about citizenship and government.  "The Philadelphia Story" depicted wealthy, urbane America.  "Red River" it's gritty independence.  "High Noon" its quiet and thoughtful strength, "Adam's Rib" how the judicial system worked, "Gilda" that sex and beauty is power, and in "Born Yesterday" that bawdy humor was all American.  There were so many other films that gave me glimpses into the country I now lived.  Eventually, I would discover that Hollywood always had at least three layers of rose colored film to cover the ugliness that those films also depicted. 

Television today, along with movies, continue to provide glimpses of an American mindset as well as vocabulary that enriches our lexicon.  The power of the media should not be taken lightly and it should be celebrated rather than looked at with disdain and haughtiness.  Thank you Hollywood for helping me to assimilate and want to find out more about my new country's history, culture, land, and people.  It continues to be an ever-changing and as Katherine would say, "Glorious" ride!

Bumper Nuts

Honestly, what are people thinking?  Please understand, I am no prude.  I can cuss any sailor under the table but there is a time and place for everything; a time to curse, a time to bitch slap someone, and a time to just roll the eyes. Not that I am proposing that all this is good and right, it isn't.  My point is, it takes a lot to make me blush. Never, ever is there a time to drive an SUV with testicles hanging off your car hitch!  Ever!! Today, this jaded lady experienced a shocking vision as she drove to work minding her own business.

I40 was humming along when what to my wandering eyes should appear but a big ole SUV with what appeared to be testicles hanging off the hitch.  I raced to get a closer look; I wanted to see it up close and then try to figure out its purpose.  OMG!  That's what they were!  Why would anyone ride around with this appendage dangling in the wind? My next thought was that I had to see the Billy Bob driving this vehicle. Again, I put my Charger in gear, saddled up next to the SUV with the neutered (or is it spade) hitch, and there she was.  The driver looked like someone's grandmother wearing pearls and hair teased and coiffed to perfection.

Who are these people?  In creating a story, in my mind, for Granny Winnie Bob, I missed my exit to work amazed at my assumption that surely the person driving this SUV had mutton chops, flannel shirt and a belly rubbing up against the steering wheel.  And here is what is even more amazing there are several web sites that sell these "Bumper Nuts."  Big ass trucks need big bumper nuts to let the world know that the driver has big ones too.  Clever and emotional advertisement indeed.  If you do not believe me, go to http://www.bumpernuts.com/index.html.

As to Winnie Bob, I decided that her car is in the shop and she is driving her son's car to work or she got into a fight last night with her husband Bobby Wayne and well, I think you know the rest of the story. 

The Mystery of 2011

So 2010 has come and gone and I am so glad of it! It was a hard year especially midway through.  Pretty much I learned that I can outlast and outplay if willing to meet adversity mano a mano and that yeah, what doesn't kill you, say it with me girls and boys...will scare you shitless! 

So what about this coming year? What's in store for this Queen Bea? I haven't a clue.  Wish I did so I can assist in not mucking up the good things coming my way.  Mysteries always confounded me.  Never a lover of a good mystery.  What I do know is that I have no overwhelming urges to run 10K marathons, scale Mt. Everest, or sing with Linda Ronstadt but what I do have is a need to do something different with my talents, with myself, loosen up (to those who know me, don't laugh), and to be more thoughtful (as in think things through) with my personal decisions.  I steal from Gretchen Rubin's The Happiness Project these suggestions to ponder over as well. They encapsulate my needs/wants mentioned above.  In essence, solving the hated mystery of how I can "get there" and well, not muck it up but enjoy.  They are: 

1. Be present.
2. Laugh often.
3. Forgive yourself daily.
4. Take deep breaths.
5. Dream big.
6. If it won't go, let it go.
7. Follow through.
8. Keep focused.
9. Don't wait.
10. Give all you have all the time.
11. Show you care.
12. Write it down.

So, here's to 2011, I wish us all health, happiness, and love and the strength and good grace to know how to keep it, enjoy it, and share it as the days pass along.