Junior Parker - Cryin' for my Baby

james has had this in his  repertoire for some time. phil alvin also has it in his repertoire. james's version is powerful & tortured, phil alvin's tortured-theatrical, which means highly cool & entertaining, but less heartfelt. james really feels it. it's painful almost to watch him sing some songs of heartbreak.

i can't sing songs like that. i explode in sobs. so i don't.

i was surprised to hear this light & swingy version.

in other news, i'm still not pushing up daisies.

good night.

imprinted

sebastian cabot as mister french. i loved mr french. our family
doctor was similarly large, rotund, with gigantic blue eyes
& friendly, comforting manner. despite that, he also scared me!

i was 20 yrs old on a train in europe when this good-looking white guy, older & square-looking,  started making eyes at me, so i walked with him to the back car (i had no boundaries) (i remember being at the very end of the train, outside the back door with the track rattling beneath & the cool air blowing, with this stranger!). turns out it wasn't hanky-panky he wanted, but for me to become a scientologist...

mister green jeans & captain kangaroo: round, silly comfort.
you could know you were safe with these people.

it made me think about the idea of engrams -- not jungian, but scientologian -- which unlike jung's are  negative & only removable via auditing or whatever those wingnuts call it. i might not have this right; i was talking with angie sister yesterday about her MA program in which she's currently reading jung.
i just was mooning & dreaming over pix of capybaras & wondering why animals like them or wombats or bears (the fatter the better) are so appealing to me & always have been, like, inherently.
why do we like what we like?
sick two weeks now; overdid it yesterday in the yard. building a dog run. so i'm stalling, on the blog...  these are images that i saw between infancy & age six that stuck inside me, that may have been uncanny due to their power upon me, or that maybe imprinted upon me... (for james, it was raquel welch in fantastic voyage as well as some other, more eccentric celebrity crushes...)

when depressed, i go dumb watching videos of innocent, round,
adorable caveys, which we  had as pets when i was a kid. capy-
baras, wombats, round-nosed, soft-gazed: who can't love them?

the gia family saw oliver! when angie & i were tiny,
say 3-5 years old. i wanted to be jack wild, who played
the wily, confident artful dodger, but oliver
reed as bill sykes has remained in my psyche
always: his handsome bulk & sinister glower
were so scary, but also troublingly exciting...

after this i gotta go to ace & get fencing. tomorrow's a class i anticipate, in bakersland: socratic circles. i'm just all over the place in this post.

we walked into bakersfield's tejon theatre & there was
john amos without a shirt1  i was six, but the broad 
muscularity of his chest stretched across the big screen has
been cemented in my mind ever since!

... so to blablabla a bit more, have you heard of a book called the old ways? it's a lunatic-fringe publication i read about in mother earth news, but w/some most-excellent & useful info, like how to make pain meds from backyard weeds... and last night i saw an odd, stunning movie called buster's mal heart featuring a pint-sized heartthrob version of michael shannon, a charming-creepy egyptian cutey named rami malek... i really liked the film, tho it disturbed me... so that's enough stalling... happy sunday.

BAH!

that is all.

bleghgh

this phony i dislike just posted about james's band on fb, an arrogant "humble brag," i think it's called, so rather than write something stupid to Phony, i will complain here.
i just don't like some people. especially ones who have been two-faced; who have bad-mouthed james while pretending to be a friend; who have gossiped about him; who's pretended to be a clean-living, kindly person while snorting drugs & talking sh*t while not having cajones to be honest; who's  been disloyal. people who are arrogant, phony, & inherently dishonest really hack me, as cousin tushi would say. in my young (& not-so-young) life, i was dishonest & arrogant (tho not inherently, thank Goodness), so maybe that's why i'm intolerant; oh well.
bleghghgh! good riddance!
there; that's more than enough on that topic.
on another note, i just mixed apple cider vinegar WITH baking soda, having thought the other day, if it cleans out a clogged drain, can it do the same for a sick body? (been ill for a week now; it's going around the school.) just now, i took the concoction with some emergenC or whatever it's called and wa! la! instantly i feel a modicum improved!
today as i returned an item to ace hardware, one of the checkers recommended oregano oil... hmmm... the other day i read that baking soda, that is, sodium bicarbonate, is one of the main ingredients in dialysis treatments: baking soda cleans the kidneys. wow! i had a friend years ago who healed from pancreatic cancer by using the gerson (all greens) diet, which of course is outlawed in the u.s because how is BigPharma gonna make trillions on kale & spinach??? ... my friend healed & was healthy for a few yrs til she succumbed to road food & lifestyle (she was a beloved blues musician); the cancer came back & she perished, a wisp of a woman where once she'd been round & stuffed w/Life. it was so very, very sad...
i'm thinking the more direct from the Earth a thing ingested be, the more restorative it is... yes,  the older i get, the more natural remedies seem not just more appealing, but evidentially, they increasingly are proving superior to western medicine...
going to rest now. when james left (with the words, "take it easy; don't make yourself sick again!") i went & did six hours of housework/projects & even worked outside. (is that a humble brag? so be it.) last, i took penny for a mile (only a mile; i be sick) in my vibram five fingers. those hideous shoes feel so good on a jog... if you have some & haven't tried jogging in them, give it a go.
if you, too, are sick, get well soon. if you are well, be grateful!!!! :D

neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee... and my hero!!!!

that's the sound in my brain right now. i've been sick since saturday. saturday night, thanks to mom & dad, we went to a stage production of (asking james; can't remember) priscilla queen of the desert. it started rather tepid but by conclusion, was quite heartfelt, ribald, colorful, & really well-sung. parts were better than some broadway shows i've gotten to see, even... bakersfield's got some  talent!
we snapped family pix & dad took this one. "you should see your husband," he grinned, & i just knew james was making "that face," that big cheesy whiteboy james oversized smile, & i giggled, resulting in what you see... he is cooking dinner & just dropped all the vegetables. if james had grown up with me, he would've been raised on the words "slow down," & "be careful!", dad's constant, stern admonitions to clumsy, impulsive me... i think we're gonna have pasta casserole, tho all i want to eat lately is ice cream bc of sore throat & fatigue & general sloth...
sick. bleh. this is a rare time in my life, when i have dragged myself to school BECAUSE I HAVE WANTED TO BE THERE. usually i flake out around this time of school year. ironically, bc i dragged my sick carcass in for 3 too many days, i now will be out two bc i made myself so sick instead of resting.
wanted to recount last week, a story about my hero.
at the end-of-day school bell, my friend christy said, "wanna go help me rescue a trapped raccoon?" no,  i thought, but bounded off w/her to a far edge of campus, where we saw a blue recyling lid crashing & banging through the weeds. we cornered a beautiful mama raccoon, scared, feral, & exhausted. she'd gotten trapped in the trash can lid & now wore it "like a tutu," christy kept saying.  the pe teacher had seen it earlier in the day, taken its pic (see here), posted it on social media, but what? not made sure someone would free the poor creature?
snarling & screaming & thrashing whenever we approached her w/brooms, the raccoon certainly would die over the weekend if we didn't somehow save her. she ran herself up against a tree & stuck, helpless, butt out & feet dangling. she shrieked & gnashed & lunged at us from her stuck position as we tried & tried to kick her loose from the plastic, or at least turn her over, but she as just too heavy for "us girls."
christy called many agencies, but no one would help. what crap, said one of the female custodians who later came over w/tuna can of water for the coon. no one cares about wild animals... i learned that the custodial crew had heard strange screams that morning; they had thought it was one of the school cats, but it didn't sound quite right. the mama raccoon had been trapped all day. her babies hadn't eaten or had water all day, that meant; neither had she.
christy finally had to leave for cross country practice, so there i was, alone w/the mother raccoon, who by this time we'd enclosed behind a large piece of iron fencing. i kept looking and looking into her primitive, pretty black eyes, wondering what was there... i got really blue.
too down to work, i retrieved teacher's editions from my room, put them in my car, then came back & sat vigil with the raccoon, hypnotized by her innocent, mysterious little masked face. she finally trusted me enough to rest her head tentatively against tree & dirt. she panted heavily, her teated girth expanding over & corseted painfully by the plastic lid.
we have a coon at our house that eats the cat's food, makes a mess outside our house, scares the dogs & cats, petulantly kills mouse families under the house in great terrifying night raids. it's an ugly guy, james has said. the cats attacked it one night; they could've been killed, but they wanted it gone, too. james seeks to take this ugly ruffian out.
this raccoon, by contrast, was so pretty, so helpless. she'd no doubt tear my face off if i got too close, but for those moments i sat there by her, between huge oak trees in quiet afternoon's dappling  sunlight, with the mountain breeze blowing through, i felt sad for her & thought i bonded with her some. it's such a hard world at times for girls.
i heard the male bus drivers would be there in about 45 minutes, after their routes were complete. they would help. i called james. then i sat.
kevin & jose finally arrived with welder's gloves & snow shovel. kevin dove in trying to free the animal; jose was more reticent. a guy from fort tejon who'd been called to help showed up, took one look, snickered, & said, "i'd put her down." i ignored him the whole time he was there after that. a**hole.
then a door slammed in the distance: james sauntered up, a determined gleam in his eye, his arms full of shears, clothing, gloves. he decisively tossed a trench coat over the raccoon. she freaked out & crashed against the iron railing. he grabbed the coat & tried again. covered, the animal calmed a bit. james grabbed the gardening shears he'd brought & started cutting off the recycling lid. this was difficult work bc the terrified, heavy, unwieldy animal kept moving & jerking, her fangs always close; the plastic also was very thick.
at one point, three men worked on freeing the raccoon, james in charge. jose held the snow shovel between james & the raccoon while kevin held her relatively still with a large piece of cardboard christy & i had brought. james kept cutting.
kevin handed james the shears he had brought, shorter but sharper. james had to remove his gloves & get right next to the raccoon to cut w/those. she could've bitten him at any time; he was careful but quick. finally he said, "get ready, she'd coming loose!" everyone lept back as w/one final cut, the plastic broke & the raccoon flopped free, rolling around a bit, disoriented. she then scampered up into the yoke of one of the oak trees.
we all cheered. we all hugged. the men hugged, high-fived, & shook hands. everyone left except kevin, james & i. the raccoon just sat there in the tree, her eyes now seeming soft, peering at us all. i like to think she was staying back to say thank you, but likely she was waiting til we all left so she could call her babies to eat.
james & i went to subway & had sandwiches. i couldn't stop smiling at him. a mama raccoon and her babies live today because of him. innocent lives go on today because of james. james, protector of the innocent. james...
my hero.

i don't think i want to write after all.
maybe later.