Happy Birthday, Henny Babies!

Mama and three lil' babies are now doing fine. Kittens born around 2pm on Saturday in the mud in my neighbor's yard after 6 hours of Austin rainstorms Saturday morning. The bedraggled Henny wouldn't let either of us (me and my neighbor) come near, so we left her alone. My neighbor put a tarp over where she was lying with her babies, but she then moved all of her babies out of his yard and back into the rain. Both my neighbor and I put out food for her.

She endured more Austin rainstorms for hours all morning Sunday. Continued, while soaking wet herself, to nurse her babies in the mud, shielding them from the rain with her body.

I tried to gather her babies during the rain, but Henny hissed and growled and ran at me. I backed off.

Finally, today (Monday), I came up with a plan after I got off work: I took a cardboard box/bed outside with me. Left the sliding glass door open as I went back inside and shook the food bag and prepared Henny's usual dish, which I placed about 6 feet inside the door. When she came inside to eat, I jumped outside and shut the sliding-glass door behind me. Then went and gathered the kittens and placed them in the box and went back inside.

First thing Henny did was grab one little kitten by the scruff of its neck and try to take him back outside... Luckily, this lasted only a minute or so. She then took him right back to the box and hopped in after him. And, for the most part, she has now been busy nursing for the past 5 or 6 hours (with a few trips outside the box to come say "hi" to me and be stroked; to eat/drink; to make tentative explorations of my apartment, which she's rarely see before). Oh, yeah, and she pooped on my shag carpet, which, admittedly, has a ground-like texture (pretty good guess for a previously feral cat).

Here's the now-dry Henny and her three lil' babies.

George Jones and Tammy Wynette - Rollin' in My Sweet Baby's Arms (Hee-Haw 1971)

Where Oh Where

Henny didn't show up for dinner Friday...

Either she's dead or she just gave birth to her kittens. (For the past 9 months or so, Henny's been in my backyard around 5pm waiting for her regular feeding EVERY day.)

In my fantasy, Henny will gradually bring each kitten home to my backyard over the next couple of days. I'll bring them all inside and let the family nurse, then after 6 weeks, call the Austin no-kill shelter to take all kittens but one, plus take Hennessy in to be spayed and then returned to me.

As I was growing up in the country outside of Azle, Texas, we had a stray cat, "Mama Cat," who showed up at our house and then had kittens. She did what I'm now wishing Henny will do: Lugging each of her five kittens home (in the Azle case, to our back porch) by the loose scruffs of their necks 'til they were all in a safe place. In Austin, though, I'm not sure if Henny is going to have that leisure. The apartment complex is surrounded on one side by auto shops, which are abandoned after hours... I'm guessing the stray cats take refuge (and have their babies) there.

For the past half-year, my apartment complex management has been sending out messages about NOT feeding the stray cats, like Henny, roaming around the complex --- so the no-kill shelter could set up feeding traps to capture the cats. Well, I'd already started feeding Penny and Henny, so I couldn't just STOP feeding the cats that were trusting me to feed them...

I WISH that Henny would be able to do all of this (bringing kittens home to a safe place) properly, like a country cat could do...

Every Breath You Take (1994 Sting/Tammy duet)

Wannabe Grifters

Three of the people I've been in love with since 1989 turned out to be creepy low-level grifters.

One was Rick Broussard, the lead singer for "Two Hoots and a Holler," the rockabilly band that I'd see every Monday at the Black Cat Lounge and at Hole in the Wall in Austin from the late '80s through the early '90s. At one point in '89 or so, Rick said he'd meet me at Hole in the Wall. At the door, he first said he needed some money from me to pay for his friends' cover charge. When I pointed out that his band was a regular there --- why would his friends need ME to pay their cover charge? -- he backed off, then later on in the evening, asked me flat out to give him $10. (No. Bye.)

In the late '90s, after I'd been broken up with my first girlfriend since '89, I was back in Austin after a couple of years in San Francisco for grad school. I ran into the ex at a gay club one night and she was acting unusually friendly, asking for my new number, etc. A couple of nights later, she called. Turned out, she wanted me to pay off her credit card! "THAT's why you called?" I said "hell no" and then went outside and sat on the bumper of my car and cried and cried and cried.

Just a couple of months ago, someone I loved said "I love you." I believed her. The very next night, she called and asked me for money. I said no. She stopped speaking to me. And I didn't cry one bit.

There are gray areas in any relationship, but one thing that makes my blood run utterly reptilian cold: Asking me for money. (Oh, yeah, and not driving me to work when you said you would.)

What qualifies for #MeToo

The most traumatic experience with my father, among many, was the time he dragged me by my hair out of my bedroom. I was 12 or so, watching television on my 12-inch black-and-white TV, and writing in my journal. My dad popped his head in the door to see what I was doing. He didn't like the fact that I was both watching TV AND writing; he said I couldn't do both at the same time and told me to stop writing. I thought he was being silly, so kept writing. A few minutes later, he was back... He saw that I was still writing while the TV was on and grabbed me by my hair and hauled me down the hallway and dumped me in the living room.

I didn't grow up in a stereotypical "uber-lower-class" family: No parent was doing drugs or sleeping around, and my father was an enlisted Air Force man and so had a regular (albeit lower-class) income. (Though, according to my grade-school, I did qualify for reduced-price lunches, which was embarrassing to my mother; we did not take advantage of that welfare option.)

I was also, at home, constantly subject to the "fact" that I and "we" (my family) were "superior." In what way, I never could determine. I was always a smart and pretty kid in school. But at home, I was always not allowed to associate with other kids: to spend the night with girlfriends in 6th grade, to go skating at the local roller rink (my father dropped me off at the rink one time --- and forbade me to let my hair out of the pony-tail or to take off my coat; I sat there the whole time by myself, miserable, that time not daring to challenge him).

My mother ended up divorcing my father after he chased her out of the house with a gun one night (also when I was 12) --- he'd gone out one night in his suede jacket and cologne and then come home a couple of hours later and demanded she go to the bedroom with him. When she refused, I was sent to my room, but peered out to see him grapple with her and see her tear the gold chain from his neck, after which he went for the gun and she ran, and he shot after her... He collapsed into a drunken stupor soon after. Hours later, I then crept around the house to see if he was asleep, then went and looked for my mother...

At the time, I didn't think anything of it. I always went to school the next day. (Really? I didn't think anything of it?! According to the Internet, I didn't get murdered or sexually abused, so I had it easy.)

GEORGE & TAMMY - LOVIN' YOU, LOVIN' ME

Yes, I already posted this song a few days ago. I love it. Here it is again, with slightly different pictures.

"Once my life was just a bad routine..."

Tammy Wynette: My Man (1972)

Oh god, I think I'm about to be a grandma...

What began as a feeding kindness to what I thought was a singular stray cat (that I named "Penny") in July of 2018 has recently become: The scruffy, scrappy companion to Penny, whom I named "Henny" and thought was a boy, has in recent months become the apparently pregnant girl cat who faithfully waits for me to come home from work every day (along with the older, beaten-up-looking white and tiger-striped cat that I initially named "Papa Penny" --- probably also a girl cat!).

Since last July: Usually, I come home, give whatever cats are hanging out their food, then shut the sliding-glass door and go back in. With the spring-like weather now, I've been leaving the screen door open. Henny (short for "Hennessy" because she acts like an obnoxious drunk little cat) finally complained so much outside my screen door this evening (for about 3 hours) that I finally let her inside. For about 20 minutes, she explored and sniffed rooms, rubbed up against me, tried to lie down calmly, etc., but failed. Too much new information! After about 20 minutes, she headed to the door --- didn't want to, but DID want to go back out.

It's simple to go buy a litter box and litter. Voila --- an "inside cat." But Henny's belly is swollen --- either she's worm-laden or she's about to give birth to a litter of kittens. I'm hoping she'll give birth to them out in whatever secret place those strays hang out in! But somehow I think she's grooming me to be the birth center. Then, I'll soon have to feel mean and give up the kittens to the city pet-control center. (It's no-kill, but still --- it's traumatic. The mama-cat is extremely disturbed when her kittens are taken away.)

Brought this on myself by trying to be kind and feed the one cat that I named "Penny" last July. Penny has long since disappeared. I'm now left with evil-twin "Henny." I like Henny a lot, despite her ongoing obnoxiousness. But I'm annoyed about the kitten-problem that I think she's about to lay on me!

If God Met You - Tammy Wynette & George Jones (1995)

#MeToo handled funnily and right, 25 years ago.

Le Sacre du printemps / The Rite of Spring - Ballets Russes (initially scandalous in 1913)

Caused a riot and sensation in 1913.

My Rite of Spring

On a newly pleasant spring Austin day today, I came home to my angst:

(1) Neighbors putting coals on a communal grill. (Though at 5:30pm, are they going to stay out there until 2am? I've previously had to go out post-midnight and tell a loud group at that same picnic table to please be quiet.)
(2) Next-door neighbor sitting in his adjoining backyard when I come home from work (when I have to go out into my adjoining yard to feed the Henny cat and say "hi" to this guy when I've reported him multiple times for his loud music).

As it turned out, the (1) BBQ gang didn't make a sound that I could hear, and (2) the neighbor didn't make a sound, either, though I felt a bit awkward for the few minutes while I was banging the cat dishes out and then returning with the full bowls and water and cat-talk while Henny was jumping on me ("Henny, why are you so bad?").

It was all ultimately alright, and so I mocked myself for immediately initially thinking that things would be bad... Truth is, though, things were often VERY bad at this apartment complex when I first moved in 2 years ago. So that memory lingers.

It's Spring, and I can't quite enjoy the Spring. And I keep thinking ahead to late May, when all of the pool parties at the apartment complex will start, some often lasting until the early hours. Not always, but sometimes. Enough to put me on edge ahead of time.

W.S. Merwin is dead --- so what?

When I was a young poet at the University of Texas in the early '80s, I, and everyone else, had W.S. Merwin shoved down our throats in anthologies. He was the ultimate favorite of the Academy, and remained so, right up until he just now died.

But did he mean anything to anybody? Today's elegies in the New Yorker tout him as an "environmentalist" and "anti-war activist," which is bullshit when it comes to being a poet (there's nothing bold or brave about adopting the trends of one's times).

I'll grant him this one mildly good poem:

FOR THE ANNIVERSARY OF MY DEATH

Every year without knowing it I have passed the day
When the last fires will wave to me
And the silence will set out
Tireless traveller
Like the beam of a lightless star
Then I will no longer
Find myself in life as in a strange garment
Surprised at the earth
And the love of one woman
And then shamelessness of men
As today writing after three days of rain
Hearing the wren sing and the falling cease
And bowing not knowing to what

==========================

Though, come to think of it: Even with this grand topic, Merwin is mediocre over nearly half of the lines (though I love "And bowing not knowing to what").

Iowa Park, Texas

Working overtime today, and a geologist stopped by to chat. He's a Trump fan, as I am, and we started talking politics. He brought up the fact that today's media constantly promotes "The Coasts" and talks about anything else as being merely "Flyover Country." You're supposed to be ashamed of living anyplace else.

As an aside, he mentioned "Iowa Park, Texas" --- I perked up: I lived there as a kid for 6 years, ages 4 through 6, and then again from ages 9 through 11. Turns out that this man graduated from high school there in '75. And he knew exactly the street I lived on (514 W. Rebecca)! As soon as I mentioned I'd lived there, he excused himself and came back minutes later with 2 Iowa Park high school yearbooks!

Though I was just a kid before I moved to Azle, Texas, in '76, we reminisced about stores and streets and football rivalries of Iowa Park (Hirschi Huskies and Burk Burnett Bulldogs, et al). When looking through his yearbooks, we even found my old babysitter --- Frieda!

When my family lived there the first time, '69 through '71, we lived on Sunset Drive. Two teenaged babysitters for me lived across the street, Frieda and Connie. Frieda, the red-haired and nerdy, was the "good" babysitter. Connie was the bad one; she left cigarette butts by the fence in our backyard (and there were extra butts there, too, indicating that, probably, a boy had been there with her), and so my parents decided never to use her again. After that decision, Connie confronted me on the street with the argument re why she should remain my babysitter: "Nobody at school likes Frieda." I reported this fact back to my parents; they stuck with their choice of Frieda.

I like this geologist a lot. (1) He's a constantly pleasant and interesting fellow. And (2) He told me today upon finding out that I had also lived in Iowa Park, "And I'd thought you were so cosmopolitan!" :)

Junior Brown: Too Many Nights in a Roadhouse (1993)

Junior Brown - Highway Patrol (1993)

George Jones - Honky Tonk Song (1996)

Please also appreciate the guest appearance by Junior Brown as the State Trooper!

George Jones "Smack Dab" Live (1998)

The man is 67 years old here and still completely into his music. Just watch how he moves when he sings.

George Jones: "Hung Up On You" Live (1996)

A Girl I Used To Know (George Jones, 1963)

Not near rich enough to buy a house in Austin...

...or a car better than a cute lil' Mazda 2 (used), but at least I can buy $100 George Jones sets and $100 Born shoes!

RE George: I love him and want everything he's every recorded.
RE the shoes: My first time to spend $100 for a non-boot. Won't happen very often, but... there aren't any other cheaper red loafers out there, and this is EXACTLY what I wanted. (What a shock: I can afford to get SOMETHING that is EXACTLY what I want!)

George Jones - I Don't Want No Stranger Sleepin' In My Bed (1978)

Tammy Wynette - Almost Persuaded (1967)

1993: Dolly Parton, Tammy Wynette & Loretta Lynn

Womanhood (Tammy Wynette, 1978)

I first tried to listen to Tammy Wynette seriously in 1994, after I'd gone to San Francisco for grad school and was still incredibly lonely (despite my "fresh start") and seeking fresh music to make me feel better. A two-pronged approach: Rap and Country. Neither of which I'd ever listened much to before. But at that point I needed to try SOMETHING different, anything. In '94, there wasn't Internet, but there was a monthly CD club, similar to the Book of the Month Club. I ordered some Country (Hank Williams, Tammy's Greatest Hits, then-modern stuff like Garth Brooks), and some '94-popular rappers like Warren G. I ended up feeling nothing for either Warren G or Hank Williams. And with the Tammy Greatest, I didn't like 75% of it --- I loved "Apartment No. 9" and "Your Good Girl's Gonna Go Bad" and "Til I Can Make It On My Own," but most of the rest of her solo stuff was treacly.

BUT: On the "Tammy Hits" CD, there were some duets with her one-time husband George Jones like "Golden Ring," "Two Story House," "We're Going to Hold On"...  1994 is the year that I became a George Jones fan, thanks to Tammy. Since then, saw him twice in concert in Austin, bought multiple collections and solo albums, etc.

Over the past few weeks, I've been revisiting George (and loving his music more, and ordering expensive United Artists and Musicor collections from his early years) and, in tandem, trying to appreciate Tammy more. The collection I bought in San Fran in '94 that I didn't like so much was from 1987: "Tammy Wynette Anniversary: Twenty Years of Hits." A few weeks ago, I tried again with her with the 1999 "Tammy Wynette: The Definitive Collection." Same reaction: I loved "Apartment" and "Your Good Girl's" and "Til I Can Make It" plus things like "Silver Threads and Golden Needles" (1993 with Dolly Parton and Loretta Lynn). But thought most of the rest was filler. I did find one song from 1978, though, that I liked --- and had to dig around to figure out what I suspected: that it was George Jones singing backup on it! (They'd divorced in '75, but he would continue to hang around until '81 or so.)

George Jones Golden Hits

Can't get enough of this guy.

Tammy Wynette and George Jones - "We Go Together" (1972)

The KLF with Tammy Wynette: Justified & Ancient (1991)

This kind of wacky thing is fine as long as it's confined to the music world. Trouble is, this has now bled over into the running of our country. "We're all bound for muu-muu land." (p.s. Tammy SOUNDS great, but she looks like an idiot.)

George Jones - If Drinking Don't Kill Me (1982)

Jones at his coked-up post-divorce peak (or valley, depending). A beautiful singer and soul regardless of his then-current state.

George Jones: "Yabba Dabba Doo, The King is Gone (So Are You)" (1989)

One of my favorite George Jones songs ever. And I love the way he looks and moves and plays his guitar during this. Regardless of decade, George Jones is usually very attractive to me.

George Jones & Tammy Wynette: The World Needs A Melody (1973)

1. 
   

George Jones and Tammy Wynette: Lovin' You, Lovin' Me (1994)

From the 1994 "Burn Your Playhouse Down" George duet sessions. One of Tammy's last recordings, along with songs from her 1995 duet album with George, "One." She died in April 1998.

George Jones and Tammy Wynette - Milwaukee Here I Come

Country song

"All Roads Lead to Home"

I drove all night to our old house
Just to see if I was still there
Circled the drive four or five times
Couldn't find me anywhere

Still hoping for a light that was shining
From your window up above
Found a black-out, just like wartime
No exception for our love

After whiskey and fuel were drained
I drove back to where I came from
At 6am, both dawn and me were breaking
All roads lead to home.

The Plot Against the Giant (Wallace Stevens, 1917)

First Girl
When this yokel comes maundering,
Whetting his hacker,
I shall run before him,
Diffusing the civilest odors
Out of geraniums and unsmelled flowers.
It will check him.

Second Girl
I shall run before him,
Arching cloths besprinkled with colors
As small as fish-eggs.
The threads
Will abash him.

Third Girl
Oh, la...le pauvre!
I shall run before him,
With a curious puffing.
He will bend his ear then.
I shall whisper
Heavenly labials in a world of gutturals.
It will undo him.

1965: George Jones (with Johnny Paycheck on bass and harmonizing): The Race Is On

George Jones (with Johnny Paycheck): "I'm Ragged But I'm Right" (1990s)

George Jones (1956): I'm Ragged But I'm Right

I'm Ragged But I'm Right

I just bought this T-shirt from eBay. Am looking forward to wearing it to some future protest.

George Jones - You Put Living Back In Life (1971)

Climate Change

A couple of hours ago, an earnest young man knocked at my door with a petition to "Save the Environment." He first introduced his petition as a city-wide (Austin) initiative. Knowing that Austin is uber-liberal and uber-environmentalist, I asked him what Austin could possibly be doing wrong... He then immediately changed tack and said, "Well, this is more about Donald Trump and what he's doing to hurt our environment..."

Me: "Well, I love Donald Trump, and don't see what he's done to hurt the environment."

Kid: "OK, goodnight."

Me: "'Bye."

p.s. Regarding "climate change": (1) The Earth goes through climate-change cycles every 15,000 years or so. We're now entering a warming period. At one time in the past, all of Texas and the center of America used to be covered by the Western Inland Sea. And at another time in the past, all of the northeastern United States used to be covered by glaciers. The Earth is very old. It's been through many, many changes. (Weather records by humans, on the other hand, have only been kept for the past 200 years or so.)

(2) I keep reading online: "What will the polar bears do if there's global warming?!" After a little research, I learned that today's polar bears are only plain ol' brown bears that migrated north a couple of thousand years ago. With warming, I'm sure the polar bears will eventually turn right back into brown bears. It'll be OK, snowflakes.

(3) The Paris Climate Accord that Trump has allegedly pulled out of: The US is currently maintaining the standards of the accord. What we're NOT doing is continuing to give millions of dollars to other countries like India in bribes to help their non-existent "environmental efforts."

George Jones - How Much Rain Can One Man Stand (1969)

George Jones: Divorce or Destroy (1971)

Another great song and great title.

George Jones 1968: I Don't Have Sense Enough (to Come in out of the Pain)

Great song, great title.

George Jones - The Poor Chinee (1968)

Just in case you thought George was sensitive because of the below "Unwanted Babies" song.

My name-a Sinsin me come from China
Biggy low ship I come along here
Wind blow hard it kicky up bubbley
Ship make a China boy feel very queer

Me bring along me a little girl nicey
She come alongy to be my wife
Say that she love me once or twicey
Make a big swear do it all of her life

Me like a bow wow very good chow chow
Me like-a little girl she like-a me
Me come from Hong Kong white man he come along
Take a little gal from a poor Chinee

Me goey downstairs take a little walky
Bye bye little girl me come back
Me catch a white man an' little girl talky
He kiss a little girl a very good smack

Long time ago when we were babies
Our fathers lit ceremonial fire
Swore someday we'd kissy kissy coochie
Now white man makin' ancestor liar

Me like a bow wow very good chow chow
Me like a little girl she like a me
Me come from Hong Kong white man he come along
Take a little gal from a poor Chinee

Me thinky something a smell fishy fishy
Something besides my shrimp chow mein
Little girl actin' kinda washa wishy
Make a Chinese sorta sorry he came

Me like a bow wow very good chow chow
Me like a little girl she like a me
Me come from Hong Kong white man come along
Take a little gal from the poor Chinee

Take a little gal from the poor Chinee
Take a little gal from the poor Chinee
Take a little gal from the poor Chinee
Take a little gal from the poor Chinee

Unwanted Babies: George Jones (1967)

Social Justice George! I challenge anyone to try to figure this one out! :)



How can there be peace around the world
When you hate your neighbor next door
He's done everything he can to prove he's a man
All except cut off his right hand

What makes you think he will sleep tonight
After calling him names all day
Why take the time to read the holy book
When there's unwanted babies on the way

How can there be peace around the world
When you hold a loaded gun by your side
Just waiting for a chance so you can kill in self defense
Just because you don't like someone's comment

What makes you think the sun will shine again at dawn
And seldom think it will be the Judgement Day
Can you say that Heaven has a place just for you
When there's unwanted babies on the way

You want him to fight for your beautiful land
Then you won't give him one grain of sand
Except to throw over him when he's dead and gone
If your doggie gives man the bone

Still you go to your church next Sunday morning
You'll stand up, sing, preachin, and prayin'
But mister you're the sinner who should be reborn
When there's unwanted babies on the way.

Miezekatze, part 2

 

I haven't talked to my mother in a year and a half, but the other night, after posting my picture of "miezekatze" (above) on this blog, I was feeling sentimental (and drunk) and sent her an e-mail with that photo attached, asking her if she remembered the little cat... A day or so later, she sent me the below photo with the message: "I looked for old photos with Miezekatze and found these. They were taken in February 1966 on our way to the Azores when we spent the night at Bob & Billie's in Richardson before being taken to the airport." 

Oh my god, my heart is happy (and broken). I have so much anger toward my family members, but it is such a relief to let go of the anger, even if temporarily.

 

-------------------------------------------------

AstroCenter.com: Tue Feb 26

Your mother may be on your mind today, Leo. Your mother probably affects how you think, act, and feel, both in the past and now. If your mother's sign is opposite yours, conflict and misunderstanding can happen more easily. Take the time to learn about her sign today to help you understand her and the relationship you have.

--------------------------------------------

George Jones: The Race is On (1973 in Florida, with Tammy singing backup)

George Jones - One Woman Man

Perfume / Miezekatze

I moved into my current apartment 2 years ago, but until tonight, had never unpacked any of my perfume bottles or some of my more "spiritual" odds-n-ends, like my tarot cards, or little icons that I bought in Chinatown in San Francisco in the '90s, etc. For 2 years, I've had three boxes sitting there with the tops opened and newspaper-wrapped stuff waiting to be unwrapped. (Kind of sad that I have not felt the need for either perfume or spiritual help over the past 2 years...)

Tonight, though, the spirit moved me, and I finally got my perfumes in order (and dusted off) and on display on my bedroom dresser. Unwrapping them and looking at them on display made me a bit nostalgic for some of the bottles.

Back row:
Spark (Liz Claiborne) -- No idea when I bought this for myself. (Probably in the 90s after sniffing a magazine sample.)
Jessica McClintock -- I worked as a secretary for a retired executive back in the early '90s. He gave me this for Christmas (which at the time I thought was a bit strange, but sweet). I actually liked it and used up the first bottle. This is the second bottle.
Youth Dew -- I'd mentioned to Sandra that Joan Crawford once wore this, and Sandra bought it for me! (How romantic, I thought at the time.)
Royall Lyme -- Another Joan Crawford fragrance; I bought this myself a couple of years ago.

Middle row:
Sensi (Armani) -- No idea when I bought this for myself. (Probably in the 90s after a magazine sample.)
LouLou -- My "signature" scent throughout the late '80s and early '90s. Bought it for myself after discovering it from a magazine sample. My first girlfriend/lover loved it.
Code (Armani) -- Again, no idea when I bought this for myself. (Probably in the 90s after a magazine sample.)

Front row:
Bastet cat ("sometimes linked with the god of perfume and sweet smells") that my German aunt (Tante Barbel) bought during her trip to Cairo. My mother brought this home to me after her sister died and my mother traveled to Germany to take care of her estate.
Wild Musk Oil -- After "Love's Baby Soft," this is the first scent I ever owned. I've been carrying around this little bottle since I was 14 or so.
The One (Dolce & Gabbana) -- No idea when I bought this for myself.  (Probably in the 90s after a magazine sample.)

The other photos from my newly organized dresser: Next to my cat Gracie's ashes (died April 15, 2009, in NYC, after fighting on the phone the night before with Sandra) is Miezekatze ("Kittycat" in German) --- I had two little animals that I slept with and loved as a toddler: Slappy and Miezekatze. Slappy (a little stuffed duck) is long gone. But here's Miezekatze! (My mother made the little checkered dress.)

Come and Take It

I was watching Tucker Carlson tonight on Fox. His guest was Jonathan Harris, a Democrat operative. (Note that Fox shows always have a guest on with a differing opinion, unlike CNN or MSNBC.) Harris claimed that in Texas, for instance, "indigenous peoples" now attempting to cross the border from Mexico had the right to be in the state because they had once lived here. Carlson didn't bring this point up, as he should have, but... Texans once fought a war to gain sovereignty over the territory that was once Mexico's. And we won. (Was the Mexican government once stupid enough to allow Anglo settlers in to their territory? Sure. The Anglos also didn't convert to Catholicism, as they'd promised, either. Sorry. Not sorry.) Perhaps the US government should take this as a lesson, as Trump is now doing (and as both Merkel and the Romans should have done, come to think of it): Don't allow an influx of aliens into your territory, or they might try to take it over.

Jail for Jussie

Professional FALSE victim. Jussie Smollett makes me sick. As an aside, I can't tell you how many arguments I had with people in various online sites re this story, after all of their initial "This is what America has come to"/"Racist Trump America" posts, a fake narrative backed up by almost every mainstream US outlet. (My own initial questioning posts: "Are racists really running amok in Chicago in sub-zero weather? Complete with nooses and bleach?") Note that this creep Smollett still has his job with "Empire" despite breaking federal law for filing a false police report; Roseanne, on the other hand, for making a dumb joke, lost her show.

Pseudo-victims like Smollett are the true causes of the "division" and hatred within our country. More importantly, people like this would not be getting any attention were it not for media outlets like ABC that didn't do their research to begin with (that had a narrative they were trying to prove, despite any facts to the contrary, to begin with).

https://www.nytimes.com/2019/02/20/arts/television/jussie-smollett-attack-suspect.html

George Jones - Walk Through This World With Me (1967)

Splurge!

After working extra over Christmas and getting a $900 check, I, honestly, had nothing in particular to do with the money. I guess a new smart phone (to replace my current 2007 dumb phone) was an option, but... I have no need for a smart phone --- what do people do with it? I have Internet access at home, and I have it at work. I asked a friend at work about the actual uses for a smart phone, and he suggested that I could look up driving directions. But... I don't "travel." I pretty much know everywhere I'm going in Austin.

I constantly see people either stopped dead in their tracks or moving blindly with smart phone in hand... They look stupid. (For instance, nearly every day, I see a fellow apartment dweller walking the VERY short distance from his apartment to his car in the apartment parking lot with head ducked over his phone. Really? You can't walk a mere 20 feet sans device?)

I'm going to get a smart phone at some point, of course, just because everyone else has one (sad, I know). But... I don't see the hurry.

What I did end up doing with part of the money was splurging on two very expensive George Jones CD sets, his entire Musicor work from 1965 through 1971, parts one and two (nearly a hundred dollars each). I was tired of scrapping around getting various Jones hits, and finally decided to pull the trigger and get some definitive, complete collections that I will appreciate to the end of my life. More to come and buy (the man had a 50-year recording career).

Radio Lover: Whoops! Did I post this already???

I've listened to this dozens of times in the past couple of weeks. Love it.

Conversations about the Romanovs

When I was getting my hair cut last Thursday, my stylist asked me what I was reading... One of the last times someone providing a service to me, a gynecologist, asked me this, I responded honestly: "The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich." After which she didn't speak to me again throughout the whole appointment. (Me inwardly: "But, but... it's a classic! I don't LIKE Hitler, really!")

But this time I told my 20-year-old hairdresser that I had a whole stack of bios about Russian history and the Romanovs that I was working through. She immediately perked up and said, "I don't know anybody but me that likes the Romanovs!" Turns out she's just now reading her very first book about the whole damn thing: "I Was Anastasia," a 2018 account of the impostor who pretended for decades to be the youngest Romanov daughter...

I tried, amid the blow-drying, to convince her that Anna Anderson was a fake (DNA testing proved it) and that she should read "Nicholas and Alexandra" by Robert K. Massie if she really wanted to get a feeling for that episode in history.... She promised to do so.

Jones and Wynette bios are depressing

Just finished reading "Tammy Wynette: Tragic Country Queen" (2010, Viking) and "The Legend of George Jones: His Life and Death" (2014).

At least the former was by a real publisher, and so had actual sources and references. The latter was by a self-publisher, completely thrown together and annoyingly unedited (but with some juicy stories).

What was depressing: After reading the whole Tammy book and enjoying the in-depth, gossipy story of her life---as it turned out, her life was horribly purposeless. There was the initial "making it" story, and then there was the star-crossed (i.e., "messed up") story of her romance/marriage with/to George Jones, which ended in divorce in '75 (though they continued to record together until 1980, plus a final record in 1995). Post-George Jones, she did little (no, I don't count the 1991 KLF song "Justified and Ancient" as being very good).  The last few years of her life (she died in 1998) were spent in a drugged-up haze, assisted by her last husband George Richey (one-time Nashville songwriter), who controlled all of her finances in her last years and deleted all of her children from her will. According to this book, Tammy said that George Jones was the love of her life, and that the love of George Richey's life was his second wife (who died of a drug overdose soon after he left her for Tammy). 

And then the self-published "Legend of GJ" book, written by George's long-time friends and songwriters Peanutt and Charlene Montgomery and published in 2014. (1) Some facts can't be gotten straight: Was George Jones's second wife Shirley a help-meet or a hindrance? Opinions vary within a page. (2) The "juicy" part of this random remembrance is when Charlene Montgomery's sister, Linda, is offered a chapter of the book. Linda lived with George Jones in Alabama for 5 years post-Tammy and pre-Nancy, and today, based on Alabama common law, considers herself to be Jones's 4th wife. In her special chapter, Linda remembers a slutty woman named "Nancy" who partied with George in New York City then subsequently moved into the house in Alabama that George and Linda shared---and refused to move out... This "Nancy," according to Linda, attempted suicide by overdose twice, and once intentionally threw herself from George's car and broke her arm; the whole time, George was allegedly calling her a "whore" and telling her to get out of his house...

As it turns out, George married said Nancy in 1983, and she's thereafter credited for getting him straight... (I don't know at all if Linda's version of Nancy is true, but it's interesting --- I'm bored with the usual "Saint Nancy" story.)

George and Tammy were fantastically talented... a gift.... But what is a gift if you fuck it up with drugs or live with someone you don't truly care about just because they're more comfortable?

The other day I woke up feeling hung-over, feeling lonely, feeling like shit in general... And a second after all of that ugliness, I thought: "I've lived longer than Elvis. And he had everything." I'll continue to let that be some small comfort.

George Jones: Loving You Could Never Be Better (1972)

George Jones: We Can Make It (1972)

Tammy Wynette - Til I Can Make It On My Own (1976)

George, Tammy, and Tamala Georgette (1971)

A 13-year-old George Jones in Beaumont, Texas

George Jones playing at a relative's house, circa 1944.

George Jones "Heaven-Made Woman"

Not loving anybody...

...is pleasant, actually. No one to get mad at for not loving me back!

I'm actually HAPPY with my current days, which I haven't been for decades. (I was happy for about a year-and-a-half in New York, 2007-2008, before Sandra contacted me.)

My editing work is intellectually challenging and diverse (in the old, good sense of the word "diverse") and it pays well, enough for me to buy whatever used books and CDs and shirts I want. My apartment complex is relatively quiet; I have a few issues with the guys next door every couple of months, but it's not a daily thing, like at my last complex, where the guy down below was bellowing every day.

On weeknights, I drink a six-pack of Bud every other day (working on my Joan website on the drinking nights). On the two weekend nights, I drink all I want ONE night and lie on the couch channel-surfing and recuperating the next day. On the OTHER weekend day, I usually wake up early, charged up to do stuff! Like going in to work to do overtime, plus doing chores like grocery shop and/or laundry that's been building up.

I don't miss my mother or brother or Sandra. Finally having personal stability has given me the strength to cut those people out of my life. (Whereas, when I was on shaky ground, I was desperate for anyone to cling to for support---then feeling angst when those folks weren't there for me at all. Nice to feel independent.)

Stacey Abrams delivers the Democratic response to the State of the Union

After the President's State of the Union address, I was patient enough to watch what followed: Failed Georgia gubernatorial candidate Stacey Abrams and her plan for America. During her 10-minute rebuttal speech, I actually took notes about Stacey's concerns and future plans for our country:

(1) Happy Lunar New Year.
(2) My Dad once hitch-hiked and gave his jacket to a homeless guy.

(3) Support education.
(4) Trump cages children at the border.
(5) Support fathers with prostate cancer.
(6) Voter suppression is real.
(7) Racism is wrong.

Sorry: Though I'm gay and a feminist (and thus allegedly exactly what a Democrat voter should be), I'll be damned if I hand over my future to some PC idiot thinking generically on a grade-school level. Here's a toast to the smart, independent-thinking "old white men" who know the economy and the world situation and are working for a change for the better (i.e., Trump, Rand Paul).

Overtime work: $900!

Over the Christmas break in my free time, I edited a collegiate text for an author: Wasn't expecting a prompt payment, but... I just, very promptly!, got a $900 check! What the heck to do with it? I guess buy a smart phone. (My dumb phone from 2007 is tiny and decrepit, although it does still work.) A co-worker suggested, "Go on a trip!" Aw, but where the hell would I go by myself... (waaah-waaah). New York City: Still too depressing.

Sans any trips, what I did do, though, was order a bunch of used books online about my current obsession, George Jones! Bios: The Grand Tour, Ragged But Right, Life and Times of a Honky Tonk Legend, Legend of George Jones. Plus some Tammy and kids-related: A Daughter Recalls, Tragic Country Queen, and The Three of Us.

That, for me, is one of the best things about having some extra cash around: Being able to buy whatever seemingly tatty used books and CDs (oh, and shirts from eBay) you feel like getting at the moment without having to stop and think if you can afford it!

George Jones & Tammy Wynette - "Near You" (1977)

George Jones: Radio Lover (1988)

At first, I thought this was a nice little catchy "dedication song." Aw, hell no! It ends terribly!

"Radio Lover"

[Spoken:]
He kisses her goodbye,
And heads for the radio station.
Oh, he hates to leave her,
But he's got another show to do.
He knows she gets lonely,
So he lets her know that he's thinking about her.
And though millions are listening,
She knows who he's talking to.

[Chorus (Sang):]
Comin' to you live like I do every night
From the heart of your radio.
I play a little sad, and I play a lotta glad.
And a few ol' cheatin' songs.

Here's hopin' everybody out in radio land
Found a love just as true as mine
Good night angel, sleep tight darlin'
Close your pretty brown eyes.

When the show is over,
Your radio lover
Will be home by your side.

She's laying in bed
As her DJ tells her that he loves her.
It would break his heart
If he knew she wasn't there alone.
She knows when to cheat
And when to tell her lover to leave her.
She knows they'll be safe
Just as long as his show goes on.

[Spoken:]
He planned a surprise
For the night of their first anniversary.
He taped his show just so he could be home.
The radio was playing and,
As he walked in on her and her lover,
He heard himself saying
The last words that they ever heard.

[Chorus (Sang):]
Comin' to you live like I do every night
From the heart of your radio.
I play a little sad, and I play a lotta glad.
And a few ol' cheatin' songs.

Here's hopin' everybody out in radio land
Found a love just as true as mine
Good night angel, sleep tight darlin'
Close your pretty brown eyes.

When the show is over,
Your radio lover
Will be home by your side.

[Chorus (Sang):]
Comin' to you live like I do every night
From the heart of your radio.
I play a little sad, and I play a lotta glad.
And a few ol' cheatin' songs.

Here's hopin' everybody out in radio land...

George Jones: He Stopped Loving Her Today (1980)

George Jones - The Grand Tour

Tammy Wynette and George Jones: Good Lovin' and Loving You (1972)

After Tammy's great song, watch her looking pissed off/blank after George tells her she didn't go sit down according to his instructions. Great George song following, too. But the two sexy, talented people don't particularly like each other.

George Jones - The Race Is On (Live at Farm Aid 1985)

Cryin' Time (George Jones and Tammy Wynette)

Julie London - Love Letters (1962)

I'm not alone in the night

When I can have all the love you write...

Nat King Cole - Mona Lisa

 

Mona Lisa, Mona Lisa, men have named you
You're so like the lady with the mystic smile
Is it only 'cause you're lonely they have blamed you?
For that Mona Lisa strangeness in your smile?

Do you smile to tempt a lover, Mona Lisa?
Or is this your way to hide a broken heart?
Many dreams have been brought to your doorstep
They just lie there and they die there

Are you warm, are you real, Mona Lisa?
Or just a cold and lonely lovely work of art?

Doris Day - Dream A Little Dream of Me

I'm longing to linger 'til dawn, Dear...

Happy Birthday to my dad, age 79

Normally, if people online give good wishes to their fathers, it's for a public purpose of making themselves look like "good people." In my case, I'm recognizing that I remember that my father was born on January 24, 1940. And that he'll be dying soon, and that I'll, as his child, feel deeply about that.

He wasn't ever very nice to me, though. I still remember being 7 years old and him (1) Screaming at me and forcing my head to the floor after me and my brother had chased each other around and messed up the living-room curtains; and (2) Forcing me against my will to eat a big spoonful of peanut-butter on the day before 2nd Grade.

The abuse went on and got much worse after that, culminating in him shooting at my mother in 1977, when I was 12. After she divorced him that year, he kept on hanging around, threatening suicide, driving out to our home, etc.

I understand that he got better after 1977. (Well, not in 1980, when I spent a week with him in South Dakota when I was 15. He was as nasty as ever.)

I hear that later he got better. Good for him. Happy Birthday.

Nostalgia

Austin's been a shitty, generic town for the past 10 years, at least. I nonetheless recently had a revelatory feeling of good will and fondness for the town... Nostalgia for something I haven't left yet.

Nat King Cole - Nature Boy

Covington Catholic students on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial

Taunts directed at white high-school students on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial on Saturday: "Who the real cave-man." "Yous a cracker." "Go back to Europe where you came from." "You about to go postal." "When you gonna shoot up another school." "Dirty-ass crackers." "Incest babies."

I witnessed this type of anti-white propaganda first-hand while a grad student in San Francisco in the mid-90s. NEVER did I think the sickness would spread across the country as it has today.

Henny and Penny

I started out feeding the ONE cat I named "Penny" back in July. Pretty soon after, though, she brought along her brother, Henny. (Actually, I don't know what sex these cats are --- they're both so bushy, I can't see if they have balls or not!)

Anyway, after 6 months of the two of them hanging around at feeding time (around 5pm when I get home from work), the two lookalikes have very distinct behaviors. Henny (with the scar on his nose) gets uber-excited and aggressive once I open the back door. First thing he does when he sees me is jump at Penny and bat her on her nose. Every single time! Patient Penny always backs up slightly, lets him bat her, then sits and waits for the food. Once I step outside with the food, Henny then jumps at ME! No teeth or claws, but... nearly every single time, he almost immediately jumps at my leg, and sometimes he "gums" my hand ("biting" but not biting)! Such an odd little ritual. He can't help himself with his excitement and pseudo-aggression once the food is coming!

The two look very similar but act so differently. I think of these Joan Crawford pictures. Henny is the one on the left, from "Johnny Guitar" --- a little scruffy and agitated. Penny, on the right, better-groomed and much more patient.

"Savage Rhythm" by Mills Blue Rhythm Band (1931)

"Saratoga Drag" by Luis Russell and His Orchestra (1930)

"Swingmatism" by Jay McShann and His Orchestra (1941)

Charlie Parker's debut at age 20. Recorded April 30, 1941, for Decca in Dallas, Texas.

Icons displayed in my office

George Jones - "Yabba Dabba Doo" ~The King is Gone (So Are you)

He Stopped Loving Her Today - George Jones live (1994)

George Jones - Me and Jesus

I'd probably run off and join a George Jones commune. (Well, as long as it was at his house in Nashville and not in Guyana or someplace.)

George Jones - Have You Seen My Chicken (1975)

Hard-core George.

George Jones: A Good Year For The Roses (1970)

George Jones- "Take Me" from "A Poem is a Naked Person"

From the "A Poem is a Naked Person" documentary about Leon Russell.

2019: Sleeping in my bedroom regularly for the first time in a long time

When I first moved into this 1200-sq-ft apt in April 2017, I specifically asked the cable company for a second cable box so I could watch TV in my bedroom. They didn't bring it. So I kept sleeping on my couch in the living room, where I could fall asleep watching TV.

In my previous apartment (Jan. 2015 to April 2017), the cable company also couldn't figure out how to put a cable connection in the bedroom, so I also usually went to sleep on the couch.

Prior to that, I lived in a 400-sq-ft one-room apartment from 2010 to 2015, so it didn't matter, then, did it? No, it didn't matter from 2010 to 2015, but post-2015, when I finally HAD a nice bed and a separate bedroom, it DID matter! I wanted to go to sleep in my BED while watching TV, not crumpled up on the damn couch!

Well, as of late 2018, I finally figured out: (1) Ask tech guys at work for advice. (2) You're not desperately poor any more; buy a $30 Roku stick for the bedroom TV, and pay a guy from work $50 to come over and set up your goddamn bedroom TV since you can't figure it out yourself.

p.s. Self: You don't like your bed being so close to the wall and fellow apartment dwellers being able to possibly see through your porous blinds as they pass by... Then get a $30 wall hanging from Amazon to cover up the window. Voila. Jesus Christ. Now go to bed.

George Jones full concert 1987 in Florida

This video has made me late for work twice in the past week. Each time, I only meant to watch for 15 minutes or so, then ended up staying up for the whole thing.

George Jones • Cold Hard Truth (1999)

Living in my own ellipses...

Wondering when the real part of my life will start again...

Eric Clapton - I've Got A Rock n' Roll Heart (1983)

Like a Normal Person

Sunday, I finally figured out, by myself, how to get the Spectrum cable programs to also show on my bedroom TV with my new Roku stick! After 2 years of going to sleep primarily on my couch because of my addiction to television, I can now satisfy my TV addiction while sleeping on a more-comfortable queen-sized bed!

Attack on the Pennys

About a month ago, I got an e-mail notice from my apartment complex: A fellow apartment dweller was spearheading a campaign to capture the feral cats (by putting out cages with food) in the complex in coordination with a City of Austin program to capture said cats, spay/neuter them, then allegedly release them back to where they came from.

Initially, this sounded like a great idea: I certainly didn't want the Pennys to reproduce. Except for the actual results: I used to have four members of the Penny Family that came to eat in my back yard. Since "The Program" began, Papa Penny and Lil' Penny have completely disappeared. I'm sure they were captured. But NOT "released back to where they came from." The other two, Penny and Henny, are still regular visitors to my back yard around 5pm, when they know I arrive home from work and will then feed them.

Yesterday, I got an e-mail notice from the apartment complex (sent out to everyone). Basically: The feral cats are still being fed, despite the efforts of the "do-gooders" to have them removed. We should all stop feeding the cats or else risk being written up and kicked out of the apartment complex. Maintenance men will be on the lookout for food/water dishes and/or bedding left out for the said illicit cats.

I've been feeding the Pennys every single day since July. I'm not about to stop and betray their trust.

Fucking ridiculous and corrupt and downright evil how an alleged policy of "we'll spay/neuter them and then return them to where they came from" turned into the captured not returning and then us people feeding the few smart enough to avoid capture getting punished.

Today was the first day of the policy. I removed the food/water dishes at 8am before the maintenance men showed up. Fed Penny and Henny as usual at 5pm when I got home. Fuck the stupid snowflake do-gooder cat-police.

1949 Joan Crawford publicity

How beautiful.