The Afterlife

When I die and am in that transition period between lives, I hope my waiting room has a deep, comfy armchair and a side table; an endless supply of hot coffee; stacks of books along the walls; and thick rays of sunshine to light the room.

A sweet man once said...

"One day, when you are much much older, you will put down your knitting for a moment and look up,while your 23 cats lounge in various spots in the room. You will stare at a white wall, as if it were a projection screen, and reflect on all those people who have floated in and out of your life. You will think of old friends long gone, and the nostalga of simpler times, while that seemingly infinate train of humanity steams on by. You will laugh under your breath as you think back and travel backwards down the trails that lead to memory. Faces of schoolmates, family, co-workers, friends and lovers will swirl around, along with the specific memories that accompany each. Among all those faces of friends, no more than another link in the chain, will be mine. You will have to concentrate for a bit, as it will have been a long time since the last time I popped up from recesses of your mind. It will all come flooding back and a wave of scerenity will wash over you as you think back to that wonderful time. That wonderful time when I would forever distinguish myself among your peers. It was that time I presented to you the sweet tender sound, of a singing little yellow sponge, and his sidekick starfish. Oh yes, I have got it, and here it is, for your listening pleasure..."

Thanks dude. You are indeed a special friend. For, who else could be my stand in man, providing the silent threat to my Artifial Sweetener Daddy? Muchisimas gracias.

History Lessons

Wednesday means a trip downtown. I decided it was due time that I participate in the cultural section of DTown, and so I headed off to the African American History Museum.

It's a fairly new museum, and so it's not as filled out as it could be, but it's pretty cool none the less. The building is spiffy, with a huge glassed dome over the atrium. It's mirrored on the inside, so when you look up, you see bunches of reflections of the visitors. Large, bright, well made.

The museum had a special exhibit focusing on the American history of lynching. It seems that those people who participated in this wretched activity liked to document it with photographs, which were then sold to the crowd/participants who often mailed them to family and friends with notes regarding who was being lynched, why, and, occasionally who was responsible for the act. Even beyond the bodies -naked, burned, scarred, mutilated or raped- it was the faces of the crowd, looking toward the camera, smiling, proud, pleased, convinced of the appropriateness of their deed, that tore at my heart. I just cannot fathom how any human could be so cruel to another human, often repeatedly, and be so unaffected as to want photos of the event.

The other main section of the museum was a walking timeline, starting with ancient Africa and the first tribes of people. According to them, all humans share a piece of mitochondrial DNA that traces back to one woman in Africa. So, we really are all sisters. From Africa, they show migration patterns, tribes, trade routes and the birth of slavery. As slavery builds, the visitor sees the holding cells in the forts, the boat and travelling conditions, and life upon arrival in America. Significant people and events, especially Detroit-based events and people, are highlighted until modern day. It was really fun and interesting to have the interactive tour, as opposed to just seeing artifacts and placards on the walls.

The only part of the museum that I was really disappointed with was the last section, the one about the role of African Americans in the progression of music. There were paintings with large cards next to them describing the types of music (jazz, blues, r&b, hip hop, etc.) and the African roots of that music. When you think of it, the role is just huge, amazingly significant, undeniable. But, there were... 8 paintings? It was so brief, that I don't think credit was properly given. You could make an entire museum dedicated to the evolution of music...

...oh, wait... Been there.... the Experience Music Project in Seattle, WA. Now that was a hip museum..!

Peer Pressure is Fun

It's kinda sad when your mom says you need to have more fun. So sad it makes your friends want to help you (or call the mother and explain one's efforts at fun), help you in any way they can.

I was just trying to help.

Huguito and I went to a hip bar last night, downtown. Several beers later, Hugo remarked on how he should color his hair red. Somehow he didn't realize he had said this aloud, to me, with a straight face. After some discussion of color (the Muse's hair was pink, not red, and I thought blue would be more pleasant, though green would also be appealing, etc.) and a few more beers, we split the bar to shop, shop, shop! The blue, green, purple and yellow were all temporary, so we went for red -and a bit more natural of a red, really. Not as electric as I might have liked.

With our new purchases, we headed home to the Salon to get started. 45 min. later, not quite blonde, but closer, we mushed on the red dye. [I realized this morning, we should have double applied the blonde, to get it lighter like we needed. oh well] 30 min after that, he was a new man! Got the tops, the burns and I tried so, so hard to get the chest tufts. Wimp.

I, myself, am now sporting an odd red streak in the center of my forehead. He has promised green for St.P's party, and I am looking forward to the occasion.

Ani

Saw Ani DiFranco on Leno last night. YOW. She was doing a new song, from the disc 'Knuckle Down'. Again, YOW. The violin was crazy good, her guitar, the song, whew... It was A-Mazing. Find it, buy it, hear it, as soon as you can!

www.righteousbabe.com

Field Trip!

I went on a field trip yesterday, with Sr. Hugo, to Wayne State. What fun! It started off rocky: D-Town was in the midst of an evil blizzard, with almost an entire inch of snow on the ground and more falling by the minute. Egads! An hour and a half ride, creeping, crawling, occassionally sliding in that rear-wheel ride, and we arrived at our destination. Let the games begin!

WSU has security issues, and so a passcard is required almost everywhere you go. (Un)fortunately, the guards don't look closely enough to realize I am not the man on the card I waved as I entered the unusual building. Nor do they seem to enforce many of the rules they post, including the "Silent 3rd floor -no talking, no noise, nada" or the "No bags in the bookstore" policies.

I spent time searching the internet for graduate schools -I've about 8 right now, reading magazines, observing the diversity of the city, studying for the GRE and generally flexing my brain. It was amazing -12 hours later, on the ride back home, I could actually feel a difference. I could feel my neurons snapping and crackling with electricity, like the wires of a city home whos power has just been reconnected.

Next week, I plan to see art! I will find and visit the student art gallery and, if time permits, take in what little the DIA has left us, in this time of reconstruction.

Mmmm..... Aarrrrrt.

Groovin' in D-Town

Out to the city last night. Saw Pizazz, the Avatars and Outrageous Cherries. The first: mediocre; the second: quite good; the last: quite good -much more varied than the others. The bar was decent -medium crowd, expensive drinks, all that. But people there don't dance, they bob. And I'm convinced there is an after party we just don't know about, 'cause everyone seems to clear out about 1a. Mum says it's a racial thing -white folk go out early and end early. Seems a quite the blanket statement... Certainly applies to some, but not all of us a wimpy partyers.

Yellow, Porous & Absorbent for a Dollar, Alex

Went to see SpongeBob Squarepants yesterday. :) Dragged Hugo along and, despite his initial resistance, he loved it. How could he not? My fav part: Bob and Patrick getting "drunk" at the Goofy Goober. Ahh, it was excellent.

The theatre was full of knee-highs who had to chatter through the whole thing, but... at least I only paid a buck. Can't complain about that price. Felt like I had to wait forever for the film to come back to theatres... too bad I missed it the first time, eh?

If you haven't yet, get out and see it! Take a pal and have a good giggle, already, would ya?

Privacy My Ass

Just another quick gripe while I'm at it...

I had opened a JCPenny's card ages ago in order to get a discount on whatever I was buying at the time. Once I got it, I put it away, never to be used again. In Nov., Mum and I were out shopping and the lady coerced us into using the card to save a bit of money. No more than 5$, I'm sure. She had to look up the account number on the machine, as I had no card.

Months go by. Every so often, when passing Penny's, we'd say, 'gee... still haven't gotten that bill... wonder where it is? Oh well!'

Turns out, they'd been mailing it to my res. hall address and it was (surprise!) being returned to the company. Over 3 months later I get a call. My phone connection was beyond rotten and, to make it more fun, the woman had the thickest Indian accent. I could hardly hear her or understand her. She was calling to yell at me for not paying my bill.

Long story shorter... Several calls later and I pay the bill with a check over the phone. This means giving my router and account number to the lady. The woman (American this time) promises that she has removed the late fees and finance charges [really, why should I pay those? It's not like I deliberately didn't pay my bill. I wasn't getting them]. She tells me to call a different number so I can get a new card. Alright. I ask these people for my account number and they refuse to give it. Privacy and security concerns. Um... yea. It's okay for me to give my checking account number over that very same phone line, yet you can't give me my account number? Hello, security. During all of this, they mention my bill to be about $30 less than what I paid. Pardon?

Now, I'm pissed. This woman (a manager, also Indian) promises she has removed the charges and will credit the difference to my account. I can even check up on this in the next 48 hours, if I call back to the automated services. MmHmm. "Don't I need my account number for that?" "yes" "TOO BAD YOU WON"T GIVE IT TO ME!"

We went in circles for what felt like forever.

Today's lesson: Don't get a credit card through JCPenny unless you enjoy fighting with idiots.

Telemarketing 101

We've been getting some weird calls this week... Phone rings, pick it up, "hello?", and a machine says "please hold for the next available operator...". Excuse me??

The first time I got that, I hesitated, like, should I hold? What if this is important? Maybe a long-distance, operator-connected call? There's no hold music... am I really on hold? What is this??

This morning, the call was executed a little better. The machine said, "this is the firefighters union, blah-d-blah, please hold for an operator." Hey hey! -I know who is calling! I'm still insulted to be put on hold like that, but, at least I have the peace of mind of knowing who I hung up on, and I'm not left to spend the day thinking 'what was that call??'

I mean, really, people. It's one thing to make a call and be put on hold forever -you know who you are calling and why, and can therefore decide how long you want to be on hold. You know what your business is and what will happen when they pick up the line. With this shit, all I know is that it's most likely a person asking for money. I'm not sure.

Today's phone lesson: let people know who you are and why you are calling before you put them on hold!