This is as frivolous as it gets...but I saw a DSW commercial with these amazing shoes. It reminded me of when I wore 6" stilettos and could run across a gravel parking lot as long as I held up my skirt. It was so much fun. I loved every minute of it and I envy every woman I see in sexy shoes or leather boots.
I can't do that any more. My hips hurt all the time and I'm limited to my Z-Coil athletic shoes or other orthopedic footwear. I dress up and every time I wish I could rock some heels. I miss them.
In the scope of life, not wearing high heels any more is not a big deal. I'm aware of the world situation and it's close to home. I'm not complaining...though my jealousy of those who can and do is overt.
What I'm remembering right now is that I got to do it. I had a trademark. I used to do a 4 - 5 hour set, both standing in front of and sitting behind a piano but the whole night was spent in a variety of those yummy shoes. At the end of the night I was ready for a drink and my feet were ready for a break. I'd close the piano, unhook the straps or slip them off...depending upon the footwear...and head for the bar.
I'd sit down, set those spikey darlin's on the bar beside me and order a scotch.
One night I was working in a joint where the bartender and I had a great palship...it was one of those nights where it was a great ride and when I was done, I did my usual. "Sho" was there as I pulled up a barstool and I set the stilettos down and said "Glenlivet on the rocks."
He stood there for a moment, turned around and poured my drink, set it in front of me and then said "That was so fuckin' sexy that I have to leave for a few moments." He proceeded to walk into the back room.
He came out a few minutes later, still bright red (cause we were friends, not lovers) and we both laughed our asses off. I said "Thank you, Sho, I never knew you noticed."
Funny how a commercial about shoes can bring up the memory of a time when you owned the world. And at that time, I never knew it.
A myriad of rambling thoughts and ideas from an old broad who has been there, done that, bought the T-shirt and threw it away a long time ago. However, this old broad still has a lot to say. Here we go...
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Thursday, February 17, 2011
ON WISCONSIN
I can't describe the pride I feel in my Midwestern roots and the brave, steadfast stand for basic middle class rights displayed by people all across my home state of Wisconsin.
As I watch this become a national story, I watch other states become emboldened. I remember this feeling. It was the 60's and there were issues of civil rights and an unjust war and discrimination. Funny...it seems that these are the same issues today...the right to organize, a war in Afghanistan that is draining our economy and discrimination that translates into the right wing war on the middle class and Unions.
Stand strong, Wisconsin. You are leading the rest of the country into what will become its salvation. On, Wisconsin, On, Wisconsin...grand old Badger State...you're proving your Badger status right now as you fight on. All I have left to say is "You Rah Rah...WISCONSIN!"
As I watch this become a national story, I watch other states become emboldened. I remember this feeling. It was the 60's and there were issues of civil rights and an unjust war and discrimination. Funny...it seems that these are the same issues today...the right to organize, a war in Afghanistan that is draining our economy and discrimination that translates into the right wing war on the middle class and Unions.
Stand strong, Wisconsin. You are leading the rest of the country into what will become its salvation. On, Wisconsin, On, Wisconsin...grand old Badger State...you're proving your Badger status right now as you fight on. All I have left to say is "You Rah Rah...WISCONSIN!"
WHAT GOES AROUND
I have to tell you a story about an experience I had in the Milwaukee airport. I was heading back to Denver from visiting my family. As most of you know, I have terrible bursitis and when I travel I have to take my laptop plus a purse and a cane. Add that to a heavy winter coat and getting around becomes quite difficult.
I slowly made my way to the restroom and as I was heading toward the handicapped stall a tall, young, fashionably dressed woman with perfect hair, stiletto boots and an impeccable, perfectly sized pull suitcase pushed past me right into that stall. I stood there in astonishment for a moment and then maneuvered myself into a regular stall, hanging my things all over the top and the hooks and managed to "do my business."
I finished up and upon exiting the stall I was greeted with the vision of "Miss Fashion" at the sink washing her hands. Her turquoise skirt was nicely tucked in the back of her pantyhose waitband so that her butt was displayed for the world to see. Garnering every ounce of strength I had in order to avoid laughing, I washed my hands at the sink beside her, ignoring both her and her derriere. I dried my hands and smiled as she strutted out of the restroom, displaying her ass to the entire airport.
I've never seen Karma in such swift action. I do so hope that she made it all the way to her gate before being notified her of her unique fashion statement. Have a nice flight, Lady.
I slowly made my way to the restroom and as I was heading toward the handicapped stall a tall, young, fashionably dressed woman with perfect hair, stiletto boots and an impeccable, perfectly sized pull suitcase pushed past me right into that stall. I stood there in astonishment for a moment and then maneuvered myself into a regular stall, hanging my things all over the top and the hooks and managed to "do my business."
I finished up and upon exiting the stall I was greeted with the vision of "Miss Fashion" at the sink washing her hands. Her turquoise skirt was nicely tucked in the back of her pantyhose waitband so that her butt was displayed for the world to see. Garnering every ounce of strength I had in order to avoid laughing, I washed my hands at the sink beside her, ignoring both her and her derriere. I dried my hands and smiled as she strutted out of the restroom, displaying her ass to the entire airport.
I've never seen Karma in such swift action. I do so hope that she made it all the way to her gate before being notified her of her unique fashion statement. Have a nice flight, Lady.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Classic Dad
I was sitting and telling stories with my 87 year old dad this evening and he was telling me the stories and progression that eventually led to him meeting my Mom at La Crosse University. I said "Just think, if all this had not happened we wouldn't be sitting here having a drink together tonight. To this he replied: "And you would not have such a spectacular father which should be mentioned often... by me and about me.". Needless to say, we laughed like fools...just one of the reasons I love going home.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
LIFE AND SPORTS
I am a happy old broad tonight. The Green Bay Packers won the Superbowl and had to go the same route that the Broncos had to take to beat the Packers way back in 1998. I grew up in Wisconsin but have spent most of my adult life in Colorado and that year I wanted one for John. We got it. I can't deny it. I love Football and Baseball. I couldn't be my Father's daughter without it. I also know the obscenity as far as revenues for the owners and the players.
Trust me, the owners make the players look like paupers in the media deals. This was a great Superbowl - two dynasties. I promise, the owners and the media would have been weeping in their silk hankies if it had been the likes of the Seahawks and the Texans. Football fans would have been saying "HELLZYAH" because it wouldn't have been more of the same, but advertisers and marketers would have been wetting their huggies trying to figure out how to get people to watch. The majority of TV sports watchers are big market players and they want the big boys in the show. This show was true, Midwestern, Smash-mouth FOOTBALL.
I listened to everything Lawrence O'Donnell had to say today about what professional athletes make and the obscenity of it all in comparison with the state of the rest of the country, much less the world. He is right. And I totally agree with him as regards cities and states being held hostage to owners who demand that tax payers purchase their multi-million and now billion dollar stadiums.
I understand everything he ranted about tonight....especially Jerry Jones' stadium where some ticket holders got left in a media center or the parking lot because after all that money and all the time he had to prepare, just because he wanted to break a record, he couldn't make certain that all the seats would pass a simple, fucking safety code. He remains in my sewer of NFL owners. I'll list them sometime in another post when I do some top ten or whatever that nobody reads anyway.
Jerry Jones...by the way, a lot of people think he paid for the stadium himself and they're wrong...the tax payers helped him fund this "Dallas Palace" just like all the other stadiums. I like how most everyone connected with professional sports is a republican but then they really like that old socialism when it comes to their stadiums, since it's the population which includes upper, middle upper, upper middle, middle, lower middle, upper lower, lower, low, and indigent classes who help build those stadiums.
In the case of Jerry Jones' palace, I guess he figures that he can employ a lot of janitors at minimum wage. Tell that to the janitor's kid who looks up to Neon Deion. Deion...talk to the man.
I didn't think I had this much to say about the down side. However, that's what makes the rest of what I need to say so important.
I'm not ignorant nor am I blind. However, I've been doing a lot of watching and listening these past weeks. I will grant you that there are a lot of players who do nothing but care for and take care of themselves. However, a lot of these fine young men are NOT juiced and they take care of not only their communities but communities abroad. I have become aware of so many foundations that are not "in name only"...these athletes and their desperately needed aid show up in destitute countries and regions and they make a difference. There are a lot of good and fine young men on those fields who have been waiting and hoping and are now executing on the opportunity to pay it forward.
I won't choose. If all of our life is spent just working to elect, effect, and immerse ourselves in politics, why did we elect representatives? Shouldn't we get a little time off? I was sick on Saturday and missed a reorganization meeting for my county. I feel terrible but life did go on. I hope they elected my choices and if they didn't I guess I should have shown up regardless my health. I wish we had as many fans at caucus and county meetings as we have at sporting events but that's silly...why show up for work when you can show up for play and then bitch about the few who show up for work?
So to the joyous part. I talked to my octogenarian parents before and after the Superbowl. They were beside themselves as life long Packer fans and life long Wisconsinites. My brother, Andy, had the party at his house and cooked a ham and all kinds of goodies so all that they had to do is show up. I'm still envious...I am going home for a visit this week...had I known when I bought these tickets on sale last October that the Packers would go to the Superbowl, I'd have purchased accordingly.
This morning my parents were ecstatic and were going out to breakfast and then to the YMCA...together.
Then Dad tried to tell me but couldn't because he broke down. Mom came on the phone and told me that when the Packers won, Andy reached over and hugged my Dad and started to cry. He said that the last time he'd seen a Packer Superbowl he was 6 years old and he wanted, more than anything, to watch this one with Dad. I know how he feels and it meant the world to my parents.
I understand every word out of Lawrence O'Donnell's mouth. I also understand all those nine to five and swing shift and three job and unemployed people in a little town where they have one little thing that matters. The owners, the money, the obscenity of the difference between the have's and the have not's is irrelevant on game day. It's time to watch the Packers.
HEY, PACKER FANS...YOU'RE THE CHAMPIONS OF THE WORLD.
It matters.
Trust me, the owners make the players look like paupers in the media deals. This was a great Superbowl - two dynasties. I promise, the owners and the media would have been weeping in their silk hankies if it had been the likes of the Seahawks and the Texans. Football fans would have been saying "HELLZYAH" because it wouldn't have been more of the same, but advertisers and marketers would have been wetting their huggies trying to figure out how to get people to watch. The majority of TV sports watchers are big market players and they want the big boys in the show. This show was true, Midwestern, Smash-mouth FOOTBALL.
I listened to everything Lawrence O'Donnell had to say today about what professional athletes make and the obscenity of it all in comparison with the state of the rest of the country, much less the world. He is right. And I totally agree with him as regards cities and states being held hostage to owners who demand that tax payers purchase their multi-million and now billion dollar stadiums.
I understand everything he ranted about tonight....especially Jerry Jones' stadium where some ticket holders got left in a media center or the parking lot because after all that money and all the time he had to prepare, just because he wanted to break a record, he couldn't make certain that all the seats would pass a simple, fucking safety code. He remains in my sewer of NFL owners. I'll list them sometime in another post when I do some top ten or whatever that nobody reads anyway.
Jerry Jones...by the way, a lot of people think he paid for the stadium himself and they're wrong...the tax payers helped him fund this "Dallas Palace" just like all the other stadiums. I like how most everyone connected with professional sports is a republican but then they really like that old socialism when it comes to their stadiums, since it's the population which includes upper, middle upper, upper middle, middle, lower middle, upper lower, lower, low, and indigent classes who help build those stadiums.
In the case of Jerry Jones' palace, I guess he figures that he can employ a lot of janitors at minimum wage. Tell that to the janitor's kid who looks up to Neon Deion. Deion...talk to the man.
I didn't think I had this much to say about the down side. However, that's what makes the rest of what I need to say so important.
I'm not ignorant nor am I blind. However, I've been doing a lot of watching and listening these past weeks. I will grant you that there are a lot of players who do nothing but care for and take care of themselves. However, a lot of these fine young men are NOT juiced and they take care of not only their communities but communities abroad. I have become aware of so many foundations that are not "in name only"...these athletes and their desperately needed aid show up in destitute countries and regions and they make a difference. There are a lot of good and fine young men on those fields who have been waiting and hoping and are now executing on the opportunity to pay it forward.
I won't choose. If all of our life is spent just working to elect, effect, and immerse ourselves in politics, why did we elect representatives? Shouldn't we get a little time off? I was sick on Saturday and missed a reorganization meeting for my county. I feel terrible but life did go on. I hope they elected my choices and if they didn't I guess I should have shown up regardless my health. I wish we had as many fans at caucus and county meetings as we have at sporting events but that's silly...why show up for work when you can show up for play and then bitch about the few who show up for work?
So to the joyous part. I talked to my octogenarian parents before and after the Superbowl. They were beside themselves as life long Packer fans and life long Wisconsinites. My brother, Andy, had the party at his house and cooked a ham and all kinds of goodies so all that they had to do is show up. I'm still envious...I am going home for a visit this week...had I known when I bought these tickets on sale last October that the Packers would go to the Superbowl, I'd have purchased accordingly.
This morning my parents were ecstatic and were going out to breakfast and then to the YMCA...together.
Then Dad tried to tell me but couldn't because he broke down. Mom came on the phone and told me that when the Packers won, Andy reached over and hugged my Dad and started to cry. He said that the last time he'd seen a Packer Superbowl he was 6 years old and he wanted, more than anything, to watch this one with Dad. I know how he feels and it meant the world to my parents.
I understand every word out of Lawrence O'Donnell's mouth. I also understand all those nine to five and swing shift and three job and unemployed people in a little town where they have one little thing that matters. The owners, the money, the obscenity of the difference between the have's and the have not's is irrelevant on game day. It's time to watch the Packers.
HEY, PACKER FANS...YOU'RE THE CHAMPIONS OF THE WORLD.
It matters.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
GREEN AND GOLD
I was a little kid and we were all at Gramma's house watching the Championship game which was eventually named a "Superbowl" game...the infamous "ICE BOWL."
When Bart Starr crossed the goal line, we all screamed and yelled so loudly that the neighbors came over to see if something had happened and the were right...PACKER VICTORY. All of our family was there...back in the days before cable or satellite or any other way...we had to go to Milwaukee to watch the game.
I remember Sundays...Jane had her "scream pillow" because she went nuts and so Mom and Dad got a little pillow especially for her during Packer games.
I remember when Matt did the Bernie Cannie Ford (I don't know if I spelled it right and I don't give a shit) imitation with the Bart Starr helmet that was too small.
I remember being in places where I couldn't see Packer games and I spent a lot of Sundays hurting my liver in Sports Bars so I could remain a Packer fan. Ron rode the ride with me and we're ready for Sunday.
Tomorrow is a Costco run with Jimmy and friends are coming over and we are cheering and yelling and celebrating the Title Town Packers once again.
Some things remain constant. I was born and raised in Wisconsin. GO PACKERS!!!
When Bart Starr crossed the goal line, we all screamed and yelled so loudly that the neighbors came over to see if something had happened and the were right...PACKER VICTORY. All of our family was there...back in the days before cable or satellite or any other way...we had to go to Milwaukee to watch the game.
I remember Sundays...Jane had her "scream pillow" because she went nuts and so Mom and Dad got a little pillow especially for her during Packer games.
I remember when Matt did the Bernie Cannie Ford (I don't know if I spelled it right and I don't give a shit) imitation with the Bart Starr helmet that was too small.
I remember being in places where I couldn't see Packer games and I spent a lot of Sundays hurting my liver in Sports Bars so I could remain a Packer fan. Ron rode the ride with me and we're ready for Sunday.
Tomorrow is a Costco run with Jimmy and friends are coming over and we are cheering and yelling and celebrating the Title Town Packers once again.
Some things remain constant. I was born and raised in Wisconsin. GO PACKERS!!!
Sunday, January 30, 2011
ANOTHER EARLY MORNING
It was a "quiet night" as evenings go at the Aqua. But it was wonderful because I got to do some awesome requests...songs that I wouldn't have thought to play. Thom and Kev brought out a table of friends and we had so much fun - I love this place...I'm their "Mom" and they call me "Sweetheart" and "Boo" and "Darlin'" and it's been so long since I've been loved like the people here love me. I'm sitting here watching old Superbowl NFL film and writing this happy little blog because I can't sleep but this time it's not because I'm worried or sad or anxious...just happy. Sore everywhere...from my fingers to my shoulder to my back and right down to my toes...and I don't care...ice will fix this. What hurt more was the ache in my heart until I started singing at this wonderful place. I get to be me...Patti Lee...again. Life is good. I sang "Imagine" for the people in Egypt. I hope they heard me. Anything is possible...I believe again.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
A HOUSE
There is a house in Whitefish Bay that keeps calling me. A house where I am supposed to live. I am writing to the universe here, because I know this blog is just for me, the insomniac old broad. A few stiff drinks and a XANAX and I'm still awake at 2 am. Wishing I had my Gramma's dining room table back in the room where it belonged. Setting up my music room in that great old basement. Living in a place where I could see my parents and family as often as I wanted. After all my travels, that tiny trip from Whitefish Bay is NOTHING. They would all get sick of me.
I have a little pipe dream of a house where I want to live. Perhaps God has a moment to listen.
I have a little pipe dream of a house where I want to live. Perhaps God has a moment to listen.
ONE MORE FOR KEITH
I don't have words to express my gratitude to Keith Olbermann for what he created...a voice for those of us who believe that everyone should have a voice. He was righteously difficult, fiercely steadfast, willful, complicated and unrelenting...because he believed in everything he said and did. I'll not be an apologist for the stories I've read about the Olbermann disposition. It dissuades me not from my admiration, awe and complete "fandome" for what he has been, what he has said, and what he has done. He is among my heroes and I await the time when I will fist in the air celebrate the moment he reappears in the media. Take a break, my friend who knows me not. You deserve a rest after the losses of the past year. Then, come back with humor and vengeance and all the force that is you. I envy and admire and wait again for your astounding talent to challenge everyone, including your bosses, once again.
Friday, January 21, 2011
GOODBYE KEITH
Several years ago my son introduced me to MSNBC. I was dealing with health and life issues and spent my days ranting and believing that there was nowhere to go for some truth and reality. Of course, my internal truth magnet took me right to Countdown.
I don't know what I'm going to do. I know Keith has more options than a cheerleader at a playoff game but I don't. I can't afford HBO or SHOWTIME. As it is, I pay way too much for TV but Keith needs to be where Bill Maher currently resides...a home where he can be Keith without Comcast coming in and tempering the truth.
I love Rachel and Lawrence and Ed and Dylan...Morning Joe is challenging and at times I want to reach into the TV and choke Joe but I have to say that in the world of civil discourse, he gets an A. That's coming from a 60's liberal.
But Keith? My voice? The one I turned to for relentless validation of my fury at what and who these wingnuts are and the danger they pose to our republic? (Just in case any of you wonder about my use of that word, we are not a democracy, we are a republic. A democracy would engage a simple majority vote and a lot more would get done. Don't get me started...)
I have cried, I've had a few drinks, I've read some blogs, I've played "Angry Birds"...I can't sleep because Monday I won't have Countdown. I don't even know how to write Keith to tell him what he has done for me and for my elderly mother who adores him. What will SHE do without him.
I have signed the petition to block the Comcast/NBC takeover. Even if we are successful, I doubt that Keith would just give them back what they so easily gave away...the flagship of a network.
Perhaps I'll try to write between 6 and 7 pm each day. That would be a worthy tribute to Keith. I don't know, I'm lazy and fickle, just like most Americans. One thing, however, is for certain. I will sadly and truly miss him.
I don't know what I'm going to do. I know Keith has more options than a cheerleader at a playoff game but I don't. I can't afford HBO or SHOWTIME. As it is, I pay way too much for TV but Keith needs to be where Bill Maher currently resides...a home where he can be Keith without Comcast coming in and tempering the truth.
I love Rachel and Lawrence and Ed and Dylan...Morning Joe is challenging and at times I want to reach into the TV and choke Joe but I have to say that in the world of civil discourse, he gets an A. That's coming from a 60's liberal.
But Keith? My voice? The one I turned to for relentless validation of my fury at what and who these wingnuts are and the danger they pose to our republic? (Just in case any of you wonder about my use of that word, we are not a democracy, we are a republic. A democracy would engage a simple majority vote and a lot more would get done. Don't get me started...)
I have cried, I've had a few drinks, I've read some blogs, I've played "Angry Birds"...I can't sleep because Monday I won't have Countdown. I don't even know how to write Keith to tell him what he has done for me and for my elderly mother who adores him. What will SHE do without him.
I have signed the petition to block the Comcast/NBC takeover. Even if we are successful, I doubt that Keith would just give them back what they so easily gave away...the flagship of a network.
Perhaps I'll try to write between 6 and 7 pm each day. That would be a worthy tribute to Keith. I don't know, I'm lazy and fickle, just like most Americans. One thing, however, is for certain. I will sadly and truly miss him.
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