a bad day with a lot of good (a throwback)

it doesn’t sting nearly as much as it used to…

…but

08/16/2002: “blah”

i couldn’t figure out what my problem was (don’t feel you have t write a list in the comments section just yet, okay? i’m going somewhere with this…) all week, with like, monday night as the exception, i’ve felt just kinda blah…i’ve had next to NO creative inspiration, no motivation, no inclination to do jack frickin’ squat. i figure part of it has to do with lack of sleep, because for various reasons i haven’t been getting a lot lately (sleep, that is…as far as that other “getting a lot” number, it’s much, much, MUCH lower than my sleep number, unfortunately). the other part is a calendar thing…

ya see, today is august sixteenth. for about seventy-five percent of you reading this, that means it’s the day after august fifteenth. nothing more, nothing less. for another twenty-four percent (higher than the national average due to my unusually high trailer park readership and the fact that it’s the twenty-fifth anniversary of the event and the media has been all over it) it’s the twenty-fifth (that’s ‘silver’, right?) anniversary of the day the music went away. the day he left the building for the last time. the day elvis died. or not.

at this point i’d like to thank sin D, who on her way down last week had a layover in the memphis air port, and unable to decide between a ‘memphis’ shot glass and an elvis one, bought me one of each…i don’t get to travel much lately, so i’ve been trying to get other folks to grab me shot glasses from places…so i can amass the largest collection of shot glasses without ever ordering any out right or having to leave my home territory. SUPPOSEDLY i also have some from boston, kansas city, and san francisco…some of which i’ve been waiting on for almost nine months now, and people keep “forgetting” to give them to me…sin D, however, came through with the goods…as did kramer, on a couple of occasions…but back to the date thing…

i figure the remaining one percent of you know today as a birthday. a woman who made an impact on this world. who changed lives. who made a difference. and i shouldn’t be making all these references in past tense, because in a lot of ways she’s still doing it today. of course, i’m speaking of madonna. today’s her birthday…

but not JUST her’s…today is also the birthday of someone that had she lived to see it, would have been sixty-two today. and she changed lives, and made a difference. now, she didn’t change gay dance culture, have thousands of female imitators, or hundreds of drag queens emulate her look…and for that last part i am EXTREMELY thankful…because i’m talking about my mom.

so NOW my blahs make sense…and just the image i created with that last part of the previous paragraph disturbs me on levels i can not put into words…

for some reason, the “mom stuff” has been hitting me a lot harder this year than many previous ones…i don’t know why, but it has. so, since HER mom got a tribute here, as did jim and kathi’s grandmother, i figure she’s well past due. she always told me i was a gifted writer. i always shrugged it off. when i entered college, i went in as an art major. when i had to re-apply two years later (long story), i found out i could just apply to another department and change my major with no effort. when i told mom this, she suggested journalism, because i had written for my school paper in high school. i went with broadcasting because it sounded more fun, interested me a bit more, and i knew i had the voice for it. i kinda regret double majoring and not finishing my minor (psychology) as a second major; but i don’t regret dropping the pen to grab the mic.

part of mom’s “you should go into journalism” kick was due to an essay contest i inadvertently entered and won. it was may of my senior year and i just didn’t give a fuck anymore. problem was, my grades showed it. so, i saw an opportunity to get extra credit and for once went for it. it all sounded easy enough: write a short essay about your mom. mom and i had always been more than mother and son…we had been best friends; so i figured no problem. i was TOTALLY addicted to these two magazine writers at the time…andy jenkins, and mark ‘lew’ lewman. i kinda bit off their style, turned in an essay, and figured *homer simpson-style* “wuh-hoo…i’m getting a b average for the year…”

i hadn’t read the fine print of the assignment. the one the teacher really liked would be submitted to an essay contest a local paper was having. and if you won THAT, you would get your mom a full day at a spa and a dozen roses as the prize. YOUR prize would be to get published in the paper. boy, did i get a little surprise with that…

guess who won.

not to be anti-climactic with it, but if i could find one of the numerous copies around this house that she made, i’d share…unfortunately, after searching for the better part of the evening, i can’t find squat. but it DOES kinda fit the theme of the week now, doesn’t it?

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