Four Years Old….And Counting???

Light the fourth candle on the cake.

My blog turns four.

In previous years, I would get all introspective…over a blog.   This year?   Nah.   Not in the mood.  But, you know me; my posts never end the way they begin.

I will say though that the urge to write and update daily has gone  by the wayside over the past four years.   I think I’ve gotten  bored with the daily effort of trying to be ‘funny’ and ‘amusing’ every time I signed on to WordPress.   I just don’t find my life that awe inspiring lately and I no longer have the urge to be that creative.  Besides, it takes effort to be clever and to be thought clever and I find that my internal wiring in that regard is changing.   Maybe it’s because  I no longer need the constant validation.     Oh, I still need validation; just not as much.    I can’t pinpoint how exactly, but I do believe that somehow, I’m giving myself what I once forced my blog to dispense.   

I emotionally self medicate these days.

When I was in Jr. High, I was quite the jock.  Very athletic.  I did everything….cheerleading….volleyball….tennis….track.  In fact, I was something of a speedster.   I ran third leg in the 440 and 880 relays, but my crowning glory wasrunning hurdles my 7th and 8th grade years.    I was pretty good.  Won several races.   I’ve got a few blue ribbons and a medal or two to prove it.    Of course as a petite, barely 5’1″ woman/child, I had to poll vault the damn things, but I I cleared every one; every time. 

I had no idea how well that skill would serve me in later life. 

This blog helped me overcome several obstacles, too.   For me, writing means coping and I’ve done a lot of that a la WordPress. 

That said, I haven’t treated you all that well.  I’m so sorry.  I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you.   I should have taken better care of you.   Fed you better; exercised you more.  And now here you are, suffering from Iron Poor Blog. 

Not only that, but in my medicine chest of brand names o’childhood, I also have Doan’s Pills, Sominex, Contact, Anacin, Carter’s Little Liver Pills AND should there be an out break of Tetter, a little Blue Star Ointment.   Ask for it…by name!!!!;

Happy fourth birthday, little blog.

 H

Rest Well, Liz

I was driving to work when I heard that Elizabeth Taylor had died.    I was saddened. 

Now, Liz was a star…in every sense of the word.   Created by the Hollywood system and maintained by it.   She was drop dead gorgeous and all of it, God given and genetically endowed.

I had an interesting encounter with her once.  It was in the early 90′s when she was hawking her White Diamonds Parfum.  She was making a special appearance at Foley’s, a one time Houston based retail giant.   

Let me say that even in her early 60′s, this was still a stunning woman.     And her drawing power, even though she hadn’t really done anything save for voicing one word for Maggie in a recent episode of “The Simpsons”, was  still amazing.  The crowd was huge and consisted of everyone from housewives to devoted male fans to a few drag queens her emulated her likeness on stage at some boy bar in Montrose every weekend.    She was in the midst of one of her infamous weight fluctuations and sge wore a white caftan like gown. 

The media was seated front row center.    I was probably eight feet away from her.  She agreed to take questions and I raised my hand and those gorgeous violet eyes made contact with my milk chocolate brown ones.   She asked me to stand.

I did and then I asked the most ridiculous question, but one that seemed to endear her to me.

“Miss Taylor you are gorgeous, but I have to ask, are there ever days when you just look in the mirror and feel like a dog?”

Honest to God, that’s what I asked her.

She smiled and started laughing.    As did the crowd.

Her reply?  

“Why of course!”  That’s when the crowed applauded. 

She then smiled a wry little smile and blew me a little kiss.

I have always loved Elizabeth Taylor.  Her performance as Martha in “Whose Afraid of Virginia Wolf” was epic.   Her beauty in “Butterfield 8″ was undeniable.    She was every bit the cat on Tennessee William’s hot, tin roof.

Time and heart failure have silenced her at age 79.  

But she had a terrific career and certainly an enviable life….at times.   For all her fame; her riches,  I think she also knew vast amounts of dissapointment, heartache and  betrayal.    She married seven times (eight if you include both marriages to Richard Burton) and suffered at least one miscarriage and of course, she lost so many good friends in sad, tragic ways.   From  Rock Hudson to Montgomery Cliff to Michael Jackson, not to mention the untimely death of her husband and the man she claimed to be the love of her life,  Mike Todd.

I hope the Hollywood that exists today…the cheap, tawdry one that produces the likes of talentless loudmouths such as Charlie Sheen and Lindsay Lohan… can realize its loss.  Elizabethe Taylor was truly, “Hollywood’s last real star”.

There’s no one else.   The stars of her genre are all gone and their absence leaves Tinsel Town far more tarnished.   

Survivors include her daughters Maria Burton-Carson and Liza Todd-Tivey, sons Christopher and Michael Wilding, 10 grandchildren, four great-grandchildren, hoards of fans all over the world, which includes one, still awe struck, Laurie Kendrick.

h