Caterwauling

CityWalk at Universal

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

I keep dropping in on the Casey Anthony trial in Orlando (via the TV, not by driving north for three hours!), and I’m feeling sort of nostalgic for Universal Studios, where she claims she worked but no one can prove it.

Anyway, in comparison to her fucked-up existence, mine seems like a damn dream!

I have the mother of all blog posts brewing in my head. But alas, you’ll hear about it another day, Grasshopper.

Let’s just say that I officially have no proof that anyone has a soul.

It’s like when princes and princesses get divorced. Like, wait a minute — we HAD the fairy-tale ending. What’s THIS shit?

I take back everything I said about the Twunt. God, at least that person emblazons their character on their sleeve. I’d rather be screwed by someone who is CLEARLY INTENT on screwing me than being fucked by a longtime friend. Gimme a chance to lube up, at the very least — no need to make me bleed, too.

Anyway, long story. One in which I am complicit to a degree but I don’t want that to be the long-term situation. I prefer to be “in the know” — and my eyes are WIDE open.

But everyone has a good side — at least, I hope so. And I have a network that’s really going above and beyond to rescue me. It’s basically my opportunity to lose.

And while I’ll still be OK if I do lose it, or if it turns out to be not “just right,” I would like that to be MY decision … not anyone else’s.

The one thing I can leave you with is this: Be careful what you wish for. Because when you’re down to nothing, God is definitely up to something. And I think He likes to give us what we want, just to fuck with us.

I’ve been on a reading kick lately. Just finished Barbara Corcoran’s “Shark Tales.” (Brilliantly written.) And immediately started on Jon Ronson’s “The Psychopath Test.”

Holy shit.

I’m already halfway through Ronson’s work and I only just started it a couple hours ago. The first half of the book finally provides me with a diagnosis for the often-charming, always-criminally insane creature with whom I associated myself for too many years. It is downright amazing what behaviors a psychopath can influence a perfectly normal human to engage in. But, alas, true empathy always wins over in the general populace, and we have to extricate ourselves from the clutches of these soulless societal dregs.

I’m about to start the second half, where Ronson gets into Wall Street psychopaths and others in leadership in the corporate world. All I have to say is, I SHOULD HAVE WRITTEN THIS BOOK. Sure, I couldn’t have done it BETTER, but match-making the psychopaths from my personal and professional lives would be like shooting fish in a friggin’ barrel, yo.

See, I was right to shrug off my “Atlas Shrugged” reading assignment in favor of brushing up on my Machiavelli. “The Psychopath Test” should be required reading for all humans, although I imagine my pet psychopath will probably pick up a copy as a finishing school of sorts, just like my favorite self-proclaimed and professionally diagnosed paranoid narcissist wears his condition like a badge of honor.

Just like 2% of the population controls 80% of the world’s wealth, the 1% of the (non-incarcerated) psychopath population does its damnest to cause mayhem for 90% of the regular people who just want to live and let live. Sad.

Anyway, I’ve already made a personal recommendation to all of us touched (more like molested at gunpoint) by someone else’s madness, and if you too have met someone in that 1% (probably at work), you need this book.

Just heard we lost one of our own in the industry. What a mindfuck. One, that he’s gone (because he was all sorts of awesome), and two, he was young. Like, not a whole hell of a lot older than me.

I was just texting with a BFF we shared. My friend is just blown away right now that his bud is gone. To boot, he’s only a couple years younger. And he lost his dad at the same age his friend was … the same age as Tim Russert, who happened to be a travel buddy of my friend as well. (What can I say? I know people who know people!)

(And how I envy him being friends with Russert. …)

No words of wisdom here. Just sad that a good guy is gone too soon. And grateful to have crossed paths with him. And all-too-aware that someday HAS to be today when it comes to finding what makes us happy.

RIP, Joey B.

The youngest victims of the Civil Rights warfare

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

The monument in this photo is in Birmingham, Ala., and reads, “I ain’t afraid of your jail.” This is a place where dogs and water hoses were turned on society’s tiniest citizens — as well as the full-grown set — in a disturbing effort to keep segregation alive for as long as possible. And long after legislation told the state to do otherwise.

The most-impactful part of Lady L’s and my visit to Alabama this past November was a walk through the Birmingham Civil Rights Institute. I remember at the gate, the ticket-taker simply asked us to make a donation of our choice. On the way out, I donated more.

Like any good Smithsonian, the multimedia displays immersed you in sensory overload. I can’t remember a moment in that place where I wasn’t fighting back tears. I’m ashamed of our forefathers who weren’t ready to let go of their self-appointed superiority. I’m thrilled with the “Freedom Riders” and other ordinary citizens (a la Martin Luther King Jr.) who stepped up and said, hey, I’m willing to be attacked if it means a fairer society will ensue.

(Just seeing the video of James Zwerg, the first one off the bus on that famous 1961 ride, is enough to rip out your heart that you have done NOTHING in this world in comparison.)

Although we couldn’t take photos in the Institute, the door from MLK’s jail cell (from which he wrote his famous 1963 “Letter from Birmingham Jail”) is burned into the back of my eyelids. (Read it and weep. I did.)

In going through some boxes in the past couple of weeks, I found a number of awards from the NAACP — yes, in MY name — from writings I did as a wee lass. I was quite sympathetic to the plight and I wrote many stories and poems for literary contests held in honor of MLK’s birthday. I almost wonder whether, in a past life, I were somehow there. The poetry I wrote, circa ages 11 through 14, was surprisingly evocative.

In any event, when I turned on financial TV first thing this morning, leaders were up in arms about all the schools that decided today should be a makeup day for snow days taken. And parents were keeping their kids at home in protest.

(God, I miss snow days. Not the SNOW, mind you. Down here, though, school gets canceled on cold days because many of the buildings don’t have heat!)

Frankly, I am in favor of having school today … with the caveat that it’s like the Chicago school whose principal personally knew Martin Luther King Jr. and uses the day for a special assembly where he shares personal stories about the time he spent with the legendary man.

I don’t see how a day off for kids (or adults) means anything when it’s simply a day spent sleeping in, or at the mall, or playing with the Wii, or WHATEVER. At least in school, the kids can be learning about the man who changed America as only he could. Of course, as my caveat-to-the-caveat, it shouldn’t just be a one-off event — what that man did should be celebrated for more than just a day.

I like the “day of service” approach for today (and also for 9/11). We should have more of those. I’m sick of all these religious and social-rights leaders bitching about people not being able to stay home because it violates the “sanctity” of the holiday. Wouldn’t the best way to serve be to A) learn about Dr. King and/or/then B) DO something in his honor?

We’re lucky and yet so very unfortunate to not have a battle like the civil rights one in our time. Sure, there’s a ton of inequality in the world and always will be. But I imagine Dr. King would still be fighting today, since things are far from ideal for people of color as well as those with different sexual orientations and, hell, people who just look or even SEEM different.

And aren’t we ALL different in one way or another? How can anyone allow one group to be oppressed when they’re just lucky they’re not at the top of the bullies’ list … today, anyway?

I have nothing profound to say. I just see injustice all over the world, and especially in my country. It sucks because we’re supposed to be setting the example and, yet, you’ve got assholes (whole colonies of them, right on U.S. soil) who think that having a black president is a sure sign that the apocalypse is nigh.

As the Repugs begin their crusade to overturn the landmark healthcare law, it just reminds me that morons either in power, with a lot of money or both will do their damndest to keep “everyone else” from the privileges they take for granted. Equality, healthcare, fair wages and not living in poverty when you’re working your ass off are NOT privileges, though. They are rights. And God bless anyone with the balls to stand up for everyone else who is too sad, sick, weary or otherwise beaten-down to be able to fight for it themselves.

I salute you, Dr. King. My generation’s absence of someone like you is palpable. Perhaps everyone knows they can’t rise up to the bar you set. But I sure wish someone — hell, a LOT of someones — would try. …

Pork Parfait!

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

So, OK, I heard a disturbing fact recently that Florida is the second-highest state when it comes to having human trafficking.

If that isn’t bad enough, I’m pretty sure we’ve got the worst children and families system in the country as well, as it always seems like it is Florida where kids go missing the most.

I say all of this not to take away from the deliciousness of my Pork Parfait dinner at the South Florida Fair tonight (dear God, it’s beautiful, although I *almost* got the donut burger instead, but this seemed healthier). But instead, to say that something slightly bizarre happened at the fair out in Royal Palm.

So, this event is huge — probably 129 acres of food booths and one acre of animals and rides. And of course, children will wander away from their parents. (Read: their parents are too pre-occupied with the food booths to notice that their kids wander away.)

A series of announcements came out over the loudspeaker, as children were found with no parents around for miles. First it was Kid 1. Then another was found and it was Kid 1 and Kid 2. Then ANOTHER kid was found, so the parents of Kids 1, 2 and 3 were commanded to come get their kids.

About 10 minutes later, a VERY frantic announcement comes out:

“The woman who took Kids 1 and 2, PLEASE RETURN THEM IMMEDIATELY. All of the parents have shown up and want their children.”

*thunk*

There were no announcements after that.

But holy shit, people can just walk off with two kids if they feel like it?

I don’t mean to imply that the culprit was taking them for trafficking purposes or kidnapping them away from their crazy family. (I sure as hell hope not.)

But I admit, I am NOT going to sleep well tonight, wondering what happened to those two little girls and whether they were reunited with the right families. I pray that it was their real mother who got them the first time around and hopefully they were spared from any harm.

And if I ever have kids before my eggs pass their expiration date, I’m going to lock them in the house till they’re 30. Or at least 18, since I’ll probably be 70 by then and I won’t be able to chase them.