The overpowering Scent of bordello perfume vanished, extinguished by something more powerful. The home was spiced with the bonding of women—a fragrant bouquet of friendship. It occurred to me then. I had condemned and convicted others without true knowledge. I vowed not to make that mistake again.
Excerpt from The Last Bordello
Mario didn’t want a Replacement for his missing tooth. I’m glad. Because when I met him in Italy, he was perfect the way he was.
painting by me, CDW
It had started off on a bad note or rather a bad sore throat. I guess I’d lived there long enough to pick up Temple germs from the Junior High. My throat hurt something awful and I thought I’d surely come down with Scarlet Fever like Delma had that time.
A kid in one of my classes told me about a doctor within walking distance from my house that I should go see. He also gave me a bible. “What’s this?”
“It’s a Bible.”
“I can see that. Why’re ye handin’ it to me?”
“Just thought you’d like ta have it, you know to read.”
“I don’t wanna take yer Bible.”
“Well, it’s not really mine. I work at the Baptist Church and I can get them anytime I want.”
“Okay then,” I said, taking the Bible he’d stolen from his church.
“I’ll pray for your throat, Cono.”
“OK,” I hoarsed out of my throat, thinking, “Yeah and praise the Lord too.”
I took him up on his advice and right after school I went straight to that doctor’s office. He told me to come back tomorrow morning and not to eat anything. So that’s what I did.
The next morning the doctor handed me two little Yellow pills and said, “Here’s your breakfast.” Then he left me in a chair that leaned back. I waited there until my head started to feel fuzzy, like I was sitting at the bottom of a well looking up towards the light of the sky.
“Cono, are you ready?” I stared up through the well and saw the long-nosed face of the man talking to me, the man in the white coat who made a little loop out of some kind of wire and pulled one, then two tonsils from the back of my throat. And, if that wasn’t bad enough, he decided that my adenoids weren’t doing me any good, so he yanked them out too. Fuzzy or not, I felt every damn bit of it.
He laid a pack of ice on my neck for a while and told me to go home and get some rest. I did. I rested for a whole week because I got sicker than a dog and not because I forgot to cover up my hiney. I got a bad fever and thought for sure I was gonna die. That’s when I picked up that Bible. I remembered Ma saying, “Cono, thar ain’t nothin’ wrong with readin’ the Bible.” Plus, I thought that if I was about to die, I might as well find out who was going to open up the Pearly Gates to let me in.
Once I got through all that “beggetting” stuff, it wasn’t a bad read. I didn’t understand much of it since there were so many people to keep up with. I got the gist of most of it though. But I was still trying to figure out why it said “an eye for an eye” one minute and “turn the other cheek” the next.
During that week, Delma came in once with a pot on her head and stared at me sober as a judge.
“Delma, ye need te get yerself a better lookin’ hat.” She laughed and left the room probably thinking she made me feel better. I guess in a way she did.
Excerpt from No Hill for a Stepper
I don’t know why, but it makes me kinda proud that Clyde’s best weapon came from the town where I was born. Bonnie and Clyde entered my life several times one way or the other before the Texas Rangers finally gunned them down.
In February 1934, right after we moved to Rotan, Bonnie and Clyde robbed the National Guard Armory in Ranger. The armory was where Clyde got his favorite weapon, an Automatic rifle. He cut off part of the barrel, got three ammo clips and welded them together so it would shoot fifty-six times without reloading. That’s why Clyde called it his scatter-gun.
Amelia Earhart was another celebrity who came through Ranger. She landed her Autogyro at the Ranger airfield in 1931. It’s a shame that she went missing just six years later and that we still can’t find her.
But for me, the real celebrities from Ranger are Ma and Pa.
I close my eyes again but it’s no use. My seat companion says, “You ain’t done yet, Cono.” Again, I give in to the nudge and open up that old cigar box of things I don’t care to see. I picture that tiny little girl sock, the one that used to be in the box of specials, the one that belonged to my kidnapped little sister.
Excerpt from No Hill for a Stepper, a story about my father
Ten minutes later, Sadie pulled me in front of a shabby, metal warehouse. The sign painted above the door read “Ben’s Den.”
“What is this place?”
“I’ll only be a moment, Meta. Will you wait for me out here? I’ll be right back.”
Before I had time to respond, Sadie entered through the shoddy door, allowing me a quick peek before she closed it behind her. The musky smoke Filtering out didn’t come from cigars or cigarettes.
An opium den? I had read about them, but never knew any existed in San Antonio.
Two minutes had passed. Sadie exited the building, her pace had slowed, her glazed eyes and serene.
“Are you okay, Sadie?”
“Perfect. You should go in with me sometime. The owner is a nice young man. Although,” she said, giggling, “Ben has crooked teeth. Makes me cross-eyed if I stare at them too long. Oh, and his face pocks. Big enough for fairies to bed in.” She threw her hands toward the sky. “A beautiful day. Oh, and please don’t tell Miss Fannie. Some things I must keep to myself.”
I wondered what else Sadie kept to herself. Intuition told me she stored secrets the way Mama and I stored canned vegetables.
Excerpt from The Last Bordello
There are those who I remember
And prefer to let them dwell
Within the ghostly shadows of a Nostradamus spell
Whether prophesy or heresy
Or the cost of Simple jealousy
Is life a simple parody?
Since it’s me I know not well?
On a scale from one to Ten on the happiness meter, I’d say that I’m a fairly consistent eight. But, unfortunately, the needle of my frustration o-meter’s is perilously close to the danger zone. Why?
My core belief system, my moral code has not only been challenged, but also marginalized by the flip of a narcissistic man’s hand.
Anyone who has read some of my past blogs know who I am and what I stand for. And, what I acknowledge as my truth, isn’t about to change now. In fact, now, that select politicians have dipped their poisonous swab into my ideology canal, the results will come back as they always have, and this time, with a vengeance. I will continue to fight for the oppressed, for the rights of humanity and stand up against tyranny.
It has come to my attention that many folks did not understand the reason for the “Women’s March.” That’s okay. Hopefully, after so much has been written, they now understand. It wasn’t a protest against, but a march for. A march toward a better place for all humans.
How is that a bad thing?
Yes, I heard that somewhere in the world, there were acts of violence at the women’s march. The one I read about was of a pro-life supporter who was spit upon for her beliefs. Outrageous, in my opinion. I am not pro abortion in any way. I would have done (and tried) anything to have given birth to my two wonderful children who have made me a grandmother.
I am for the right to choose. I know, some of you might not understand this, and it’s too hard to explain in this post.
I also believe that some of the signs carried at various marches were “inappropriate.” Yet the ones who carried them had as much right to do so as the pro-life marchers.
Because, in that march, there was room for everyone, Republicans and Democrats alike who believed in the rights of humanity.
Now, here is my frustration. Four million plus people across the world marched to show their support for equality and since then, my mind has returned to vague memories of the sixties and the more prominent ones in the seventy and eighties. So why didn’t the ERA (Equal Rights Amendment) pass? The Equal Rights Amendment (ERA) was a proposed amendment to the United States Constitution designed to guarantee equal rights for women .
“Gender equality, also known as sex equality, gender egalitarianism, sexual equality, or equality of the genders, is the view that everyone should receive equal treatment and not be discriminated against based on their gender.[This is one of the objectives of the United Nations Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which seeks to create equality in law and in social situations, such as in democratic activities and securing equal pay for equal work.” (see wikipedia for more info on the 9th amendment to the constitution and also the 14th which finally gave rights to same-sex couples.)
The National Organization for Women, N.O.W., founded in 1966, worked toward equal pay for women. How has that worked out so far?
I recently turned, gulp, sixty. Do I really have to do this all over again?
Even in Texas, we felt the Devastation and sorrow of Mother Nature’s wrath on August 29, 2005. Here is one of the newspaper clippings I taped inside my journal as I wrote about Hurricane Katrina.
“Hurricane Katrina was the costliest natural disaster and one of the five deadliest hurricanes in the history of the United States. The storm is currently ranked as the third most intense United States landfalling tropical cyclone, behind only the 1935 Labor Day hurricane and Hurricane Camille in 1969. Overall, at least 1,245 people died in the hurricane and subsequent floods, making it the deadliest United States hurricane since the 1928 Okeechobee hurricane. Total property damage was estimated at $108 billion (2005 USD),[1] roughly four times the damage wrought by Hurricane Andrew in 1992 in the United States.[3]” From Wikipedia.
I do believe that all the marchers on Saturday were part of an Oversight committee. We will keep our eyes on the new President, while our hands remain over our hearts.
How I love this piece of art by Louisa Cannell!
and this t-shirt some friends of mine wore at the march!
Unfortunately, due to traveling, I was unable to be part of this glory. I am so proud of my city’s turnout, including my daughter and granddaughter. Over 50,000 showed up and made their voices heard.It makes my heart swell! A Successful march, indeed!
I am also proud of the one million-plus who showed their support from around the world. Thank you!
all the above photos are from Mike Holp http://holpphotograhpy.com
And, no, Mr. Trump, I have no need, nor a desire to purchase your coin. Please stop sending me your emails. I’d rather have LOVE instead.
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Carolyn Dennis-Willingham 