Fall But Not Falling

In: Mish-mash, Mom's Oracles, Red Said

Good morning. Fall is frantically and fiercely upon us. Jewel-tone foliage has created a kaleidoscope of images to remind of change. I am uncertain if it is the autumn season and my body’s natural inclination to settle in, or that now, doing the same things, in the same place, for nearly a year, my mind and spirit have had a chance to catch up to my body and I’ve found my groove. I wonder if this means that I will be moving again soon.

I watched a movie last night that had an incredible monologue. It was as eloquent and poignant as it was philosophically sound. The character played by Ruben Blades  delivers a deathblow as he weaves us through the tragic truth that we create our realities. He says that when we come upon a crossroad, the decisions that led us there were made long before and cannot be undone; our ability to accept our reality determines the next one. I say “tragic” because in the case to which I’m referring, unfathomable and inescapable pain is about to engulf one who cannot avoid the consequences of the choices he made. Though a victim, his choices dictated the reality in which he was victimized. There was another choice with another crossroad in another reality not created.


However, as with the changing seasons, the ebb and flow of tides, the cycles of the moon, the molting of the snake, we are meant to grow, transition, decay, and then be re-born anew, only stronger, more resilient, fuller so that we too can have more foliage and thereby more jewel tones. Only, unlike all of nature, humans have the distinction of being able to decide when that change will occur and thereby create a reality that will direct toward a certain crossroad different from the one we would have arrived at with different choices. It is very anti-fate. (Unless of course you are Freud who believed it didn’t matter what you did because in the end we all get fucked by our moms.)

Whereas the protagonist in the The Counselor was faced with a self-imposed dilemma dictated by his own unchecked greed, we, as individuals, have the opportunity minute-to-minute, day-to-day, season-to-season, really, decision-to-decision to make those choices that will create win-win realities. It is very difficult however. Or at least it is for me. I don’t naturally do the right thing for myself, nor even the most well-thought-out thing. Or I haven’t in the past. And that has led to many an unwanted crossroads. I’m highly emotional and have often been very reactive. Flexible and balanced from all the adjusting and readjusting, however, I’m lacking roots and stability.


But one thing is certain and that is that I change. As the minute passes, the next one begins, and so do I. Sometimes, many times, that change has involved moving. Shedding one life for another. And with the decision to move, I created a certain reality for myself. And in all of those realities, there were unavoidable crossroads. Hmm…I wonder if I stopped wandering, where would I be? Not unchanged but maybe unmoved.




Beware of the Redheads!

In: Mish-mash, Rad Red

Aaahhhh, the allure of the redhead. We are everywhere and in hot demand. But as a young girl, being a redhead was a cause for ridicule, not adoration. So what changed? I’d like to think that I was part of that change. Yes, you heard it here folks..I was one of the 200 plus women who were part of the Redhead International Club that opened the doors to redheads being models, actors (other than, whores or comics), and the envy of all. What a sight we were walking through Universal Studios and Knott’s Berry Farm, clad in white t-shirts and with the varied hues and wide age-range. I was the youngest at fifteen and the eldest was a ripe 35. Women were so desperate to prove the authenticity of their color that one woman pulled down her knickers and flashed her fanny.

Over the summer, there were several events, including a beauty pageant with the one and only “Ginger” as one of the judges. And other than the “flasher,” there was only one incident that was bizarre or “witchy” which took place between the two women who would be crowned winner and runner-up. Apparently, the one was accepting help from the other with her make-up and the temptation to mess it up was too much for the one who painted a big swathe of emerald green across the other’s face. 30 years later, I can still see the seething auburn beauty hissing before exploding. I always wondered if she won, not because of her incredible beauty, but because we were all terrified of her.

Other than the redhead dressed in a fetching red gown, parading her buxom bodaciousness as a fated captive on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disneyland, the most impactful use of redheadedness, to me, has been the following video by MIA. Whether you like her music, or not, the message is undeniable. And how clever of her to have used redheads who, according to scientists, are doomed to extinction by 2060, not by murder but by breeding. So whether Jews, Aborinines, or redheads, the segregation of one type of people by another for the purpose of extinction is immoral and when seen in such a harsh manner as the video, one can easily surmise that fact. The insightful step is to see how that bullish and forceful behavior translates into other oppressiveness by one group over another. Straights over gays, rich over poor, citizens over immigrants.

Rather than use force to influence your thoughts and ideals upon a person or a society, let what the Redheads International Club did be a template of how you can change hearts and minds through example rather than force, fraud, or coercion. It is moral; it is lasting; and it is peaceful.