Weekend Onesie: Catching Up With The Crew

Weekend Onesie: 

Catching Up With The Crew

Hi. It's been awhile since I've shared anything of a personal nature. So, I thought I would start with the easy stuff... all the four legged wonders which have been populating my days and nights. 

Yes, it's time to catch up with my own personal pussy posse!

The photo above was taken by The Boyfriend last fall. He is also the one responsible for all the labels attributed to each of our feline wards. 

Boomer

"Bully"

Oh, my. Boomer truly is a bit of a bully. He loves nothing more than to intimidate, taunt, chase, and physically attack all the other residents at Casa de Demasiados Gatos, all the while looking like the hobo cat he was prior to coming indoors. With all the flair and dare of a pirate, he continues to annoy and disturb any being travelling through his self-proclaimed high seas. 

I think he's a sweetie, just misunderstood. He wasn't socialized correctly. When he has Mr. Beasley in a headlock and is chomping on the top of his head? What he's really saying is, 'I love you.' 

Whenever I go into the bathroom, Boomer follows. This is his opportunity to get unlimited pets and face scrubbings. Outside of the few times he's hopped on the bed and I've given him some chin scratches, this is the only time I get to hear him purr. 

He remains very food centric. I don't think we'll ever convince him there will always be more food. He must eat all the food... now!

And he likes to try and get outside. The times he is successful, he roots around in the dirt under our back porch and never goes far. In fact, if he comes out from under the porch on his own, he will immediately plop over onto his side and lay there until you pick him up and put him back in the house. It's his way of surrendering to the authorities.

Boomer is a very curious fellow. He likes to be right on top of anything that is being done which is new to him. We can tell he's trying to process something because he tilts his head back and forth as if to ask, 'What is this? What is this?' 

He's very drawn to people food. Loves anything that goes 'crunch'. He also has a weird fixation when it comes to condiments. 

Despite his FIV, he remains incredibly healthy. 

He is a huge bruiser of a cat. 

Momma Rose

"Whiner"

Well, if you were the only girl in a house filled to the rim with guys, you'd whine, too. And Momma Rose does... at every opportunity. If another cat even looks at her, she gets upset. She is such a tiny girl and very pretty... but very very crabby. She seeks out a lap all the time, but does not share well. 

Health-wise, we have been very lucky - there hasn't been even a hint of any kidney issues. She continues to have tons of energy and sass. We know for a fact that she does not miss her kittens. Our youngest, Mr. Beasley, will try and cuddle with her and, when she is receptive, she spends her time alternating between grooming him like a Momma and biting him hard so he goes away.

She tolerates Tuxedo and Theo the best, though I frequently wonder if she wouldn't be happier being an 'only' cat.

LeRoy

"Aloof"

LeRoy continues to rule over the roost, though his attitude seems to be one of 'to each their own'. When it comes to mealtime, he is the loudest, calling our attention to the hour with his mighty 'mew'. Like Glenn Close, he will not be ignored! Unfortunately for us, he is terrible when telling time and often begins his call for dinner a full hour before mealtime.

I think he may resent all the other cats. He spends most of his time ignoring them as best he can. Mr. Beasley loves to tease him, but he's not having it. With a raised warning paw and a definite hiss, he will walk away. 

On occasion, I will pick up one of the cat toys - the stick with a string with a fake mouse attached - and I will catch site of the LeRoy of old - engaged, playful. But the moment Mr. Beasley gets involved, that interest is extinguished and he will walk away sulking. 

His sinus issues are truly horrible. But there's nothing we can do about them, but clean up after him and take the occasional tissue to his nose. 

While I think he, like Momma Rose, would prefer to be an only cat, I suspect he would miss all the activity the others bring to the table.

Mr. Beasley

"Dork"

Mr. Beasley remains a kitten. He loves sitting on the BF's lap and they are a truly bonded couple. He tolerates me, but barely. He's the most playful of the bunch - tons of energy, which attracts Boomer's attention the most. Once engaged, he frequently finds himself on the losing end of that equation, with Boomer holding him down and biting him like a big bully. 

Cat toys continue to fascinate him, as he is the most-likely to chase after whatever toy is tossed. 

He also possesses the loudest purr, especially when on the BF's lap. It's fun to watch him walk over and plop himself down on whatever part of the BF's body is most available. 

He also really and truly wants Momma Rose to mother him, but, as I mentioned, Momma Rose's maternal instincts have taken a permanent hiatus. 

I keep waiting for more of a personality to emerge, but I think he's really just a little no-mind, content just to go with the flow and seize whatever the moment offers.

Theo

"Slut"

I don't think Theo is a slut; he simply likes butt scratches - lots of butt scratches. He will go out of his way if he thinks he can get you to give him a scratch. He is the oldest of the pack and as small as Momma. There's really nothing to him - he weighs nothing. I have taken to scooping him up and cradling him like a baby which he enjoys for about 20 seconds.

His favorite place is on the bed, on his furry grey blanket. Anytime I fix the bed and place this blanket like a cat bed on the BF's side of the bed, I will soon find Theo there, all curled up and sleeping. 

He possesses a very quiet personality and I appreciate it. 

He would make an excellent librarian. 

As long as there were butt scratches.

Tuxedo

"Tsundere"

Tsundere - a Japanese term for a character development process that depicts a character with an initially harsh personality who gradually reveals a warmer, friendlier side over time. This suits Tuxedo to a 'T'. I have never met a more discerning animal. His gaze is intense and a bit of a warning to be heeded. 

That said, he is fixated on me. I think it was all the time we spent getting to know each other while he lived on my front stoop for two years. He adores being an inside cat, but has been very cautious never to take up too much room. Like other tuxedo cats I have known, he stands apart and rarely engages. When he does engage? Things can get intense. He really, really likes me. And I quite demonstrative and demanding when he wants some attention. The BF and I both adore the way he talks to us. Of all the residents at Casa de Demasiados Gatos, he has the largest vocabulary. I particularly like the way he seeks me out with his "merrrow?" which ends in a question mark, as if enquiring 'where the hell are you guys?' 

He gets quite worked up at times and that is problematic because I am never sure what it is he wants. He will start kneading a blanket, then marching with all four feet going, while angrily meowing at me. If I try to pet him, he gets angry, but he also doesn't want me to ignore him. The BF thinks its because he really, really likes me and doesn't know how to express it. He's not a cuddler, except at night when I go to sleep. Then he comes and curls into me and we spoon throughout the night. 

He gets along with all the cats, even Momma, who gives him the occasional kiss. 

He also spends a lot of time alone and is very stationary. This has caused him to become the roundest of sons. In fact, if I saw him on the street today, I would swear he was cooking a batch of kittens in his tum tum. 

Of all the cats we've rescued, I am proudest of Tuxedo. That he is safe, well-fed, and happy means a great deal to me personally. He's the reason I still keep two little warming houses out on the porches and food and water in a heated dish all winter - just in case there is another needy little soul out there who recognizes a good thing when he sees it.

Winston

"Newest Arrival"

We learned about an abandoned cat - the people had moved in early spring of 2023 and left him to his own devices. The lady next door fed him all summer, but, because her cat wouldn't tolerate another cat, she couldn't take him in. Winter was fast approaching and she reached out on one of the neighborhood sites and asked if anyone could take him in. The Ex went and got him and the BF and I isolated him on our heated sun porch while waiting for a vet appointment. He came back with a clean bill of health and struck us both as an easily adoptable cat. 

Turned out we needn't have looked far.

A void had been created in The Ex's world. The newly-christened 'Winston' turned out to be the perfect fit to fill it. 

Winston is a great cat. Beautiful, large, polite, and he goes with any décor. He is perfect and perfect for The Ex, who no longer has to stress about getting home to let dogs out. 

Winston loves toys and plays with them all. He loves food. And is simply a really cool cat. I love how he loafs on the cat tree watching birds or in his bed on the couch. The Ex has gone all out, providing his new love with tons of toys and things to keep him occupied. 

I think Winston landed in the best of places. 

--- ---

The sad news. 

I lost two dear friends in the fall of 2023. 

Pepper

First, my Mom's Jack Russel, Pepper passed away. It was a long, lingering thing and my Mom just couldn't accept that Pepper's time had come. It was very sad to see her go, as she was the last living link my Mom had to my Dad. During my Dad's final years, Pepper and her brother Billy were glued to my Dad's sides like sentinels, daring death to come and take him. My Mom has now been without an animal in the home for just over a year, and while it has given her more freedom, I think she misses the companionship. She has recently mentioned that she may be interested in getting a cat. Or a monkey.... she would really like a monkey.

Hercules

A year ago, September - although it seems like ancient history to me now, I was on my way to celebrate a friend's birthday - we had reservations and the whole thing - when The Ex called and told me that our Hercules had suffered some kind of seizure, was yelping in pain, and unable to walk. Hercules suffered from Cushing's disease and it had reached a critical stage.

I canceled my plans and went to see Hercules. During the hour he regained use of his front legs and eventually his back one's too, but I knew that if he had yowled in pain before, he would soon again. The Ex called an in-home vet who specialized in helping people say good-bye to their pets. 

I spent the hour waiting for the vet to arrive in the backyard with Herc. It was a beautiful day and the sun seemed especially sweet. When he would stumble, I would rush and pick him up assuring him it would all be okay. 

I never let him go. 

I held him when the vet gave him something to put him to sleep and immediately returned to the backyard. I placed him on the ground and allowed him to pee on more time and walk around. At the first sign that the meds were taking effect, I scooped him up and cradled him in my arms. I wanted him to feel the sun on his face and body for as long as possible. When his eyes closed for the last time, I waited awhile before going back inside for the finale. 

I continued to hold him and felt the moment life left his body. I took his favorite blanket and wrapped him up in it and carried him to the vet's vehicle where I placed him in a basket for his final ride. 

Herc was the sweetest dog. Dumb. But just a sweetie. I like that he was not smart. He lived to please. And he was one of the reasons I made it through the COVID crisis. We went on daily walks. I miss his face.

He also represented the last link between The Ex and I. Our family of dogs... six in all - they were now all gone. We both agreed - no more dogs. It had simply become too hard to say good-bye.

The loss of Hercules hit me hard. I lost interest in everything. Music - practicing was like pulling teeth. I didn't want to play games. I felt lost. It really wasn't until this spring that I found my footing again. 

Grief is a weird companion. It never really speaks to you, yet you wear it like a shroud. It is everywhere and everything, coloring all it touches.

I think I was probably grieving a lot of things at once. With retirement, I lost my identity, my pattern of life. With Hercules' death, I had to also grieve a nearly thirty-year relationship with The Ex which had undergone such a gradual transformation that I hardly felt its sting - until the day I did. 

I grieved the fact that I was no longer a dog owner. I grieved the passage of time and all the change that came with it. I had to come to terms with loss, one I couldn't really quantify, for it felt like it had no parameters. 

I got it all mixed up.

And I didn't want to share it with anyone.

So, I shut down for a while. I wrote. I went through the motions of what was expected of me, or tried to. But joy seemed out of reach. 

Anger, on the other hand? That was not in short supply. I became explosively reactive. Little things. Stupid things, would set me off. 

With the dawn of last spring... I got better. I began to feel better. 

I'm still getting better.

I remain unsure of everything... 

But then, such is life.

--- ---

Pet ownership is a fulltime affair.

Please consider your income and lifestyle before adopting a pet.

Pets are not disposable. They are family. They require your time.

- uptonking from Wonderland Burlesque

And So It Goes - Billy Joel

Wednesday's Question Of The Day: Close To Death

Wednesday's Question Of The Day:

Close To Death

Hump day? Well, I'll give you something to ponder.

Yes, it's time for Wednesday's Question Of The Day.

Each Wednesday, a new question to give you the opportunity to do a bit of self-examination.  Think of it as a way of getting to know all about you and a chance to learn a little more about me. 

That's right. You know me; spill that tea! For I am the king of over-sharing!

Oh, and please leave your responses in the comments section. 

Why, think of this as a little blogging kiki!

Okay! Ready, set... 

Here's today's question:

What is the closest you’ve come to death?

If I were a cat with nine lives, I'd have one or two left.

1996 was a particularly perilous year.

You haven't lived until you've been given last rites.

My doctor! She was a fiery Irish woman of sturdy stock who took no crap from anyone. She was my champion, time and time again. She fought for me like no one else ever has... ever. There were three times that year I came very close to passing.

Once, they put me up in a vacuum sealed room which Elizabeth Taylor had just vacated. Anthony Hopkins mother was staying just across the hall. He would visit her every day. 

Once they pumped eight pints of fresh blood into my body when my body had stopped producing new red blood cells. That worked... for a week.

Once, I was in this private room squirreled away from the rest of the world. A nun would come visit me. She gave me this large fancy pewter crucifix she'd gotten from the Vatican (I still have it). She's the one who fetched the priest and informed me that last rites were now known as a prayer for the dying. If she thought she was getting that crucifix back, well, think again, hon.

I was in such denial.

The fourth time I came close? My doctor felt she was out of options - it was time I went 'home'. My poor parents, who only a month earlier had a clue of what I was dealing with when I showed up to their 40th Anniversary Party with an IV attached to my arm, weighing only 131 lbs., were summoned. She found someone to take over my care... expecting the worst. 

Well. 

I'm a strong believer in healthy denial. I wasn't thrilled about leaving Los Angeles, and the idea of being given over to the care of my parents felt like a death sentence of a different nature, but I never lost sight of overcoming - I simply refused to believe that I would ever end. 

I still don't. 

It took two years to crawl back to life as I sort of knew it. But I did it... making foolish mistakes all along the way.  

The other times. 

Once, I stupidly tried to swim across this rather wide river. I didn't take in account the current and ended up being swept downstream as two of my best friends watched on in horror. I found a downed tree and then a bridge trestle, which I clung to until I gathered enough strength and oxygen to try to get back to shore. Yes, I was an idiot. 

Another time, I was mountain biking and missed a curve. Someone found me at 2:00 am. I had broken my neck in two places, had a major concussion, and looked like hamburger. I was a John Doe for about eight hours - I had no idea who I was. In the emergency room I kept repeating numbers and later, a kind nurse sat down and created phone numbers out of them, calling until she reached The Ex, who had been frantic. The doctor told me that less than 5% of those with similar injuries survived. 

The oddest was the first time - I was four! I found a small piece of copper tubing with a jagged edge in our playhouse (on the farm). For some strange reason, I wondered what would happen if I pushed it into my wrist. My wrist! It was a bizarre compulsion. It, of course, would not stop bleeding and soon reached the point where my mother threw me in the car and drove 20 minutes to the nearest hospital. The doctors didn't know what to make of it and my mother was questioned quite severely. I came to with a nurse tut-tutting and giving me the evil eye.

Anyway...

I think I have two left.

That said... I'm still making horrible choices. And getting older. So...

Tick, tick, darlings.

--- ---

Me - Meryl Streep

from the 1992 film Death Becomes Her

Wednesday's Question Of The Day: Your Greatest Fear

Wednesday's Question Of The Day:

Your Greatest Fear

Hump day? Well, I'll give you something to ponder.

Yes, it's time for Wednesday's Question Of The Day.

Each Wednesday, a new question to give you the opportunity to do a bit of self-examination.  Think of it as a way of getting to know all about you and a chance to learn a little more about me. 

That's right. You know me; spill that tea! For I am the king of over-sharing!

Oh, and please leave your responses in the comments section. 

Why, think of this as a little blogging kiki!

Okay! Ready, set... 

Here's today's question:

What is your greatest fear?

My greatest fear?

That it's all going to come to an end some day. 

That one day, the screen will go black and I won't get to watch the rest of the movie. 

I honestly can't wrap my head around the idea of not being here... not being a part of it. 

That said, I am not afraid of dying. 

Even pain has an end. Or you get used to it. 

But not being part of the process... or even being forced to sit on the sidelines? 

That I can't imagine it.

So, in a case of healthy denial, I pretend it will never happen. I pretend that I will always be here. That there is no end in sight - no matter what happens.

This attitude has served me well in the past, saw me through things which I really shouldn't have survived. As pessimistic as I tend to be in life, this remains my brand of optimism.  

I don't see a downside to this way of thinking. 

And if all goes well? 

I'll be proven right and will be here forever!

Which is what I will leave this world believing, because - when it does end? 

Ha!

I won't know.

--- ---

You'll Never Know - 1927

Wednesday's Question Of The Day: Your Greatest Achievement

Wednesday's Question Of The Day:

Your Greatest Achievement

Hump day? Well, I'll give you something to ponder.

Yes, it's time for Wednesday's Question Of The Day.

Each Wednesday, a new question to give you the opportunity to do a bit of self-examination.  Think of it as a way of getting to know all about you and a chance to learn a little more about me. 

That's right. You know me; spill that tea! For I am the king of over-sharing!

Oh, and please leave your responses in the comments section. 

Why, think of this as a little blogging kiki!

Okay! Ready, set... 

Here's today's question:

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

Being alive.

I always joke that, at my age, I'm just happy to be anywhere... but it's true.

I'm still here.

I really shouldn't be, but I am.

When I think of all those who went before me? Well, life isn't fair.

I'm still not sure what it's all about, Alfie... but apparently I'm sticking around to find out.

1996 was the worst of it. Raise a glass to healthy denial. Who knew? But as I slogged through it, and honestly, I don't think I would have the fortitude to do it again, it never occurred to me that there could be an end. 

I tend to like to see the end of the movie, read to the end of the book. So, I think it's due to my natural curiosity that I survived.

That kind of tenacity should be celebrated. It wasn't stubbornness, it was naivety

Anyway, I have kept moving forward, putting one foot in front of the other all these years. And I really have no intention of stopping. There's still so much to be done, to see and to do. 

Most plays only have three acts. I'm at the beginning of my fourth. And, if I have my way, there'll be a fifth. 

I feel for the audience.

Some actors never know when to leave the stage.

--- ---

Ghosttown - Madonna

Wednesday's Question Of The Day: The Film Of Your Life

Wednesday's Question Of The Day:

The Film Of Your Life

Today, we kick off a new feature here at Wonderland Burlesque - Wednesday's Question Of The Day.

Each Wednesday, we'll have a new question to ponder. A way of getting to know all about you and a chance to learn a little more about me. You know me... the king of over-sharing!

Leave your responses in the comments section. Think of it as a blogging kiki!

So, let's get right to it, with our first question:

  

Who would play you in the film of your life? And why?

Physically? John Malkovich or Michael Stipe. 

Emotionally? Michael Stipe. Malkovich lacks a certain sensitivity, a vulnerability which Stipe does have.

Do I think it would be a boring movie? Probably. Like Stipe, I have a tendency to be a bit pretentious at times. My life has also been lived in such an interior way... there's a lot of crazy going on behind the scenes which I've thus far spared the world - not that it would make for great entertainment; it doesn't translate well - mechanically, it would be difficult to extract, distill. 

Also... it's doubtful Stipe can act. He's very talented, but when it comes to acting, while I could see him sparkle in a minor role, carrying a whole film is a bit beyond his scope. 

Why Stipe?

I think we possess the same type of fragility; we move like wingless baby birds still yearning to fly.

We are physically very similar - same defects. 

He's also stuck in his head a lot. 

And he's always walked that thin line... is he or isn't he? 

Plus, he sings and our ranges are pretty much the same. 

He's also a bit of an adapter, sort of moving through the cultural landscape, picking up traces of things others admire. Where we differ is... he tends to only glom onto those things considered artfully cool, while my references tend to spring from the tackiest of places - my tastes are very eclectic and non-discriminatory. I see equal artistic value in Bobby Sherman, Bette Davis, Melissa Manchester, Liquid Sky, T.S. Eliot, and Sex In The City. There's something to glean from everything... especially things I don't understand, such as Henry James' insistence on writing paragraphs which ramble for a page and a half. 

Does that make for an exciting movie? No. It would lie there inert. 

Maybe I should go with Julie Harris, instead. 

She knows how to make being uncomfortable (and a bit overbearing) entertaining.

Or maybe a cartoon character, or two? 

For I am equal parts, both Cow And Chicken.

--- ---

That's all for now.

Next week: another nifty question. 

Leave your responses in the comments section.

I do adore hearing from you!

And, as always...

Thanks for reading.

--- ---

The Great Beyond - REM

Weekend Onesie: Tied In Knots, But Still Smokin'

Weekend Onesie: 

Tied In Knots, But Still Smokin'

Going through a bit of a rough patch these days. Have ever since February 14th. 

I'd spent a week in Fort Lauderdale in January. And was leaving on February 15th for a week in Palm Springs. Packed and ready to go, I went to grab my passport... and - it was gone! Along with my birth certificate, social security cards, vaccination card, school transcripts, diplomas, and everything else I had squirreled away in my fireproof safety box. 

I was devastated. And so angry with myself. Seems I let the wrong one in... as in, into my house. 

Fortunately, I still had my drivers license and credit card. So I was able to get to Palm Springs. But, what a pain in the ass to replace all that and such a confidence killer.

And while Palm Springs was still happening, a planned trip to Puerto Vallarta could not. No passport. I had to cancel and bank that plane ticket for future use. So much for best made plans. 

On top of that, my workplace emailed me, offering me a buy-out package if I would 'retire'. I was planning to... but not for another three years. Then I read the room... and I knew that if I didn't take their offer I'd be sacked and get nothing. Turns out I was right; three weeks later they laid off tons of people, entire departments and business units - gone. Currently, no one's talking about it. But it happened! It happened!

My last day was April 28th. So the big scramble began... healthcare being the number one issue to be solved. COBRA is stupidly expensive and, while a sizeable chunk of money placed in an account reserved for medical expenses (including premiums) was part of the package, I didn't relish running through it as quickly as I would if I took the company's COBRA. So I worked on finding a better means.

On top of that... my boss retired on February 10th and when they announced his replacement you could have hit me in the face with a sock full of quarters and it would have felt better. The person chosen is someone I sat next to at a leadership training ten years earlier - one of those horrid share-your-thoughts and POV kind of things. I'd not met her before that, but within moments of opening her mouth I knew EXACTLY who she was; passive aggressive, aggressively ambitious, and frightfully un-self aware.

Introducing herself to our department she actually stated "God comes first." 

Like hell...

Needless to say, once in place, she immediately put me through my paces and then proceeded to marginalize me to the point where even I thought I was pathetic. There's more to the story - but I don't want to share it. Too depressing. I can't say that she was part of my decision to get out... but I did take her rise to the throne as a signal that something was very rotten in Denmark. 

Then the clutch went out in my mini cooper, which was an expense I had no problem covering, but it was $6.2K I had planned for a trip to Europe, so rather unfortunate.

Then two of the dearest people in my life, whom I would do anything for, were in financial straits. I was able to help both, only to be handed a tax bill which was double what I had been prepared to pay. You see, the property management company I am part of sold two properties just before the housing market crashed (again), so I knew there were taxes to pay on the capital gains, but, while not shocked, I was surprised. 

Don't worry. Financially, I'm fine. I had a consultation with my financial advisor and based on some convoluted calculations, they determined that I can live until I am over 100 and not worry about a change in lifestyle.

So.. with all of this going on, and there are other minor things that I'm not going to bother sharing, I found myself in the type of situation where normally I would post one of those 'technical difficulties' signs here and close up shop for, oh, I don't know... three years or so. Instead, while I have fallen woefully behind in my commenting on the blogs of others (my apologies), I persevered, made myself power through and continued to keep up with this blog. Yes, I know. Who cares? Well, while everything around me was in flux, this blog was the one thing which remained constant. 

I've wanted to share this info, but just couldn't find the words. It's been a bit devastating. So, on this side of it? The words came and I know enough to keep it relatively brief. You get the picture, albeit the broad strokes. (Post script - I am really struggling with all of this. More than I thought I would. It's weird - like the ground has broken into a landscape of spinning plates and I don't know which to step on or where to stand. I'm sure it will pass. But I'm more wrecked than I thought I'd be.)

I have no idea what the next phase of my life is to look like. 

In a way, it's as if my identity has been stolen - in more ways than one. 

I've grown cautious. Which means I am... well, anyone's guess. Fear actually tends to make me act out, impulsive and reckless - prone to fits of one kind or another. I'm trying to keep a lid on it. 

I'm taking the summer off. And will be at my beloved prairie any day the weather allows. It will give me ample time to find my path forward. I think about returning to the theatre. I think about taking odd jobs here and there - nothing of great consequence. I think about hiding out in my little basement studio and doing as little as possible. 

I've still got my health. Enough money. A roof over my head that's paid for. I have my car, my family, my friends. So, I know I'll be alright, for a bit...

But that identity thing? 

That's another matter.

I woke up the other morning with the realization that I am rapidly becoming a non-essential human being. I serve no purpose. I've become ineffective. 

But then, as others were quick to point out, none of us are essential. The world? It will go on spinning whether we are present or not. Whether we choose to participate, be a spectator, or sit this one out. 

The question I'll be asking myself all summer is: So? What's it gonna be?

I'll let you know when I have the answer.

Rescue Me - Madonna

Wonderland Burlesque's Bring It On Back Quiz

Wonderland Burlesque's

Bring It On Back Quiz

Today's quiz is all about those moments which occur when a thought flashes in your cranium, such as, 'Whatever happened to...", or 'Wouldn't it be nice if...'

It's all about bringing something back to life, to improve the quality of our lives.

So think about it. What do you think should make a comeback?

I've provided five topics, but feel free to get creative and volunteer anything that you'd like to see return to common use, something you've come to appreciate, or something you miss. 

It's all good. 

So? What's on your list?

 

1/ Fashion

Men's Shawls

Remember the Spanish shawls that Rudolph Valentino or Roman Norvarro used to sport on occasion?

They were sort of part of the matador get-up? 

Well, I want to bring something like that back. But maybe modernize the fabric and Stevie Nicks it up a bit. Less gypsy, more mysterious international traveler?

I have this fringed lap blanket. It's made of this fuzzy knit material. I fold it into a triangle, so the fringe is on two sides of the triangle and wrap it over my shoulders, sometimes throwing one end of the triangle over one of my shoulders. It's a burnt maroon and for some reason, the combination of the textures and color makes me feel dashing. 

I remember an aging Truman Capote doing something similar and, while he struck me as rather tragic, the cut of his shawl made for a dashing figure. His always had fringe and it looked awesome.

I want that. It's urban. Its vain. It crosses gender lines. It's... well, it's downright comfortable and versatile. 

If you're on a plane? You've got a blankie!

In the park? You've got a place to lay in the grass.

Cold? Drape it over the top of your head, like a hood. It really keeps you warm. 

I really like the look. Topped off with the right fedora? Or a porkpie hat? Provided you have the head shape and chin to carry it off? 

That's a striking look.

2/ Furniture

Make-Up Vanities

Remember those large, round mirrored make-up vanities that women had in the 1920's-1950's? 

They were so stylish. And romantic. The art deco-infused ones? Sleek perfection.

I think those should make a comeback.

I know we all don't live in McMansions, so it might be hard to give up that much space in the bedroom, but imagine one at the far end of a walk-in closet.

The little benches/stools varied quite a bit. But the vanity's overall design was quite consistent. I loved the little side drawers and the way the table in the center was lower than the sides. Whenever I see the in old movies, I simply melt.

They'd serve as a simple, rather inexpensive means of bringing class and a real sense of style into one's everyday routine.

3/ Transportation

Electric VW Bugs and VW Karmann Ghias

I love the overall design of both these vehicles. 

I was never so overjoyed when VW reintroduced their classic bug model and was very sad when it went away again. I had a 1974 bug in L.A. and adored that thing. I loved everything about it. It was fun to drive. And comfortable. It even smelled great. 

And I am amazed that the VW Karmann Ghia has never made a comeback. Talk about a sporty, but affordable car. It looks like much more expensive vehicles, while retaining a style all its own. Whenever I see one? I melt. They seem so romantic.

With the need to move from oil to electric, I think both these designs are the perfect, affordable way, to help expand that market share. People will want these vehicles. And it's more than nostalgia - it's because the design elements themselves are so very classic and classy.

I would also like VW to come out with a Herbie The Love Bug model. I think there's a definite market for that kind of nostalgia as well. Hell, maybe Disney could get into the auto industry? Would make for an interesting partnership (as much as I still dislike Disney.)

4/ Music or Movies

Murder Mysteries

When Knives Out came out, I was so excited. I adore a good murder mystery. 

Sadly, it came up a bit short. They had Jamie Lee Curtis on board and she was horribly underutilized. It was a great cast, but something was not right. Maybe if they'd filmed it in black in white?

But I miss a good old-fashioned murder mystery. No, I'm not the type that goes to those themed dinner things, though I do understand their appeal. I simply want to observe. I want to solve without having to actually be involved. 

Classic film noir, from the 1930's through 1950's frequently got it right. And even when the plot or acting seemed a bit ham-fisted, there was still that lovely cinematography to sustain the right mood. 

I'd love for that to become a new wave in cinema. It's simply begging for a bit of gender reversal or LGBTQ+ sensitivity to spice things up. 

Me? I'd be front row and center.

5/ Life

Summer

Oh, I know... it's way early to start bemoaning the dregs of winter while yearning for heat and sun. But then again, hey... it's me! You'll be listening to me whine, on and off, for the next six months.

This six months of damp, wet, freezing cold, dry air? No thank you. 

I know there are probably more practical things to wish for when it comes to life - like common sense, common courtesy, people taking responsibility, people being kind. Empathy. Civility. Perhaps an end to disease. World peace. An end to suffering. A healing of the planet.

However, the sense of decorum we gained during the Kennedy 'Camelot' years and the idealistic ideologies developed then? Decidedly absent.

There are all sorts of behaviors lacking in the United States; we are a damaged people. No... seriously. There is something seriously wrong with us. We're like a clogged toilet... yeah, I wouldn't try to flush it right now.

So, I tend to focus on things I can count on. Like the seasons of the year. 

Because - like everyone else? I like getting something I want, something I enjoy.

So, I'll focus on Summer. 

--- ---

And that's enough of me.

Okay, your turn. You know what to do. Leave your answers in the comments section. Get creative. Or, post them on your blog and leave a link here.

That's all for now.  Until next time...

Thanks for reading... and participating!

Sing It Back - Moloko

Bring It Back - Lil Yachty