I Have A Dream...

NPR is doing a series commemerating the 50th anniversary of Dr. Martin Luther King's "I Have a Dream" speech.
NPR's "Tell Me More" staff have asked readers/listeners to share their personal versions of the "dream" speech.

Here's mine -

I have a dream,


That when people meet me in person for the first time, after previously only hearing my voice, they won’t look so shocked that my skin color is so dark. And won’t immediately try to hide their shock by saying something ingenuous like “You’re older than I expected.” Really? That’s what's surprising to you? That I sound younger on the phone?

I have a dream,

That people will stop assuming that because of the color of my skin I have rhythm and can dance. While I am musical, and a very good singer, my sense of rhythm and movement is quite tragic.

I have a dream,

That when I speak fondly of my maternal grandfather, whose mother was a blue-eyed German immigrant who taught him all of the old German cooking secrets, and who inherited his height and stoicism from his Choctaw Indian father, people won't treat my memories like "stories"; fictional and fanciful tales that I've made up because there's no way in hell this dark-skinned woman before you could possibly have had a "white" grandfather who grew up next to an Amish farm in Pennsylvania. 
Or when I show people photos of my mother’s parents, grandparents, great aunts and uncles, and cousins, that for once I won’t see disbelief on these people’s faces or hear it in their voice as they say “THAT’S your great grandmother?”


I have a dream,

That even though I have learned to embrace an identity of a “black woman” because the color of my skin brands me so, I have not forgotten, nor do I deny the Native American, and European roots that represent actually the largest percentage of my DNA make-up.

I have a dream, a dream that I hope will come true in the future where the children I won’t have given birth to will know a world where a woman is just a woman. Or just an American. Or can be truly defined as what they are; someone like me – An African-American, Micosookee, Choctaw, Cherokee, German, Scottish hodgepodge.

SIFF 2013 - The Final Round Up

The 2013 Seattle International Film Festival finished up yesterday, June 9, 2013. I saw over 20 films which is my typical amount, but for some reason felt like more of an accomplishment this year than in the past. The theme for me this year was definitely "Documentaries". I saw eight in total and they were all amazing in their own unique ways.

As in years past, my picks for what was great at SIFF do not jibe with my fellow audience members. Did we see the same movies? That Nixon thing for best documentary? The hell? Totally don't get it.
Anyway, here are my reviews of the films I saw in the last week of the festival.

Alice Walker: Beauty in Truth -
Wow. Was there a lot I didn't know about one of my favorite authors. Walker's life has been fascinating. And who knew about her weird daughter totally cutting Walker out of her life recently. Bonus: Alice Walker was there and I got to shake her hand. I had this weird moment when she was holding my hand that my mother was watching; I started to tear up. I hope she didn't notice, or that if she did she just thought that I was some weird super fan and just dismissed me. I'd rather that than have to explain that Alice Walker was weirdly giving off "mom vibes" to me?

Twenty Feet from Stardom -
One of the few documentaries that I saw that will definitely be getting a wide release distribution nationally. Meaning that most of y'all will be able to see it at some point this summer and you definitely should. Spanning the past 50 years, this doc profiles the oft-forgotten/ignored back-up singer, and how backing vocals became really important and sort of defined the sound of pop music in the 60s and 70s. You will feel in turns anger, sorrow, amusement, hope, despair, irony, and elation while watching the struggles and success of these, mostly female, singers.

The Otherside -
Another fantastic documentary; I really lucked out in that department this SIFF. This one focused on the emerging and flourishing Seattle hip-hop music scene. With the success of Macklemore and Ryan Lewis a new spotlight is being thrown on a thriving music culture that many of us have been tuned into for years. Macklemore wasn't at the packed, sold-out screening I attended but all of the guys from Blue Scholars, and Physics were, along with other local acts. I'm not going to lie, while I enjoyed the hell out of the film, most of the annoying Seattle 20-somethings that showed up for it were annoying as fuck. Most had clearly never been to a SIFF film before and didn't understand any of the rules about getting there early (it's not like a regular movie venue), standing in two separate lines (pass holders vs. ticket holders), having physical tickets vs Will Call, parking permits - ALL of these details were confusing, or ignored by these kids who were super obnoxious about everything. But even this couldn't ruin my enjoyment of the evening.

Far Out Isn't Far Enough: The Tomi Ungerer story -
Yet ANOTHER great documentary that I never would have got to see anywhere else but SIFF. Did you guys ever read, or have read to you the children's books "Moon Man", "Adelaide", "The Three Robbers", "Flat Stanley" or any of the Mellops books? Or have you recently read to your own children the award winning "Otto: The Autobiography of a Teddy Bear"? These were all written and more importantly illustrated by the crazy and brilliant Tomi Ungerer. At 83 years of age he's still vibrant, crazy, and a genius that I want to have coffee with, and take long walks along the green valleys of his West Cork property in Ireland. His life was crazy. Little did I know about all of the controversy that was stirred up in the early 70s from his work in erotica. I guess my parents were even bigger radicals than I thought by sharing his work with me. Heartbreaking to see Maurice Sendak last interviews in this film. He was one of Tomi's closest friends and considered him a mentor. A truly great biography of a genius.

Prince Avalanche -
Every year SIFF seems to offer up a dud of a film. That one movie in my mix that seems promising and then UTTERLY DISAPPOINTS. This year I made it into the final days of the festival before encountering my dud. And surprisingly it starred Paul Rudd!? Paul Rudd! A man that can do no wrong in my eyes. And to be honest, Rudd was the only decent-ish part of this movie. The plot is...um...yeah, I don't fucking know. Emile Hirsch was baffling as usual; I want to like this guy - I can see he has talent - and yet he always ends up bugging the crap out of me. But seriously Hirsch and Rudd weren't the problem. The convulted story, the pacing (dear God the pacing!), the direction, the ending? it was all such rubbish. I definitely expected better from director/writer David Gordon Green. Seriously, WTF?!

The Girl with Nine Wigs -
I loved loved loved this movie based on a memoir, about a young girl struggling with a rare form of lung cancer. The movie changed the location and nationality of the heroine to Germany (the real young lady was from Amsterdam) but kept the heart and emotional pull that only true events can give a story. It has a happy ending, but I cried anyway. Once again, because it's a festival we were privileged to have the star of the film Lisa Tomoschewsky and the real-life Sophie, author Sophie Van der stop in attendance for a Q&A. It's films like this that I wish everyone could see, yet I doubt will get distribution in the states.

Love Is In the Air -
Another breezy, romantic French comedy. Nothing more to say than that. Very enjoyable. Strange that I ended up seeing two movies during the festival that featured lead Nicolas Bedos; he's I guess supposed to be handsome? His mouth is too weird for me. Seriously, his mouth is HUGE.

Bitch Hug -
My final film of the festival was a touching and charming coming-of-age drama from Sweden about ambitious, recent high school grad Kristin who has dreams of leaving her small Swedish town behind and making it big in New York City as a writer. It was nice to end the festival on this high note.

RIP - Beautiful Mermaid

Esther Williams passed away today at the age of 91. Her death marks another piece of my childhood drifting away into the beyond. My mom, and especially her mom my grandma Kay, LOVED Esther Williams movies. My grandmother Kay had met her sometime during the 50s at some event in Pittsburgh (she also met Jimmy Stewart at that same time). I think my grandma Kay admired Williams for being an athletic, tall, big-boned, lady with a gorgeous smile (just like her!) who capitalized on a talent that was pretty silly if you think about it, and made a whole career out of it.

All of the Esther Williams movies like "Neptune's Daughter" and "Dangerous When Wet" will forever remind me of summer days spent at my grandparent's house baking pies and cookies with my grandma, and singing songs in the living room.

I weep for those innocent times long gone.

BTdubs, have you ever seen a creepier photo than the one posted below? What. The. F*%k. is going on there?! MOVE OVER CLOWNS - I think I found my new nightmare object.

Say "Hi" to my Mom...

My mother had a special friendship with Russell Means in the early 1970s, working with the American Indian Movement (AIM). I know they're having one hell of a beautiful reunion up in heaven.

That voice! It will be missed.

A sampling some of my favorite Whitney Houston songs and performances - Damn, drugs are so fucking evil.


That turban! WERQ!



Why did I ever think Kevin Costner was hot in this movie?






Off her last album. God, I love her on this track. "...and I know just what to do..."

Happy Birthday to me - Over The Hill edition

Today is my 40th birthday. Yikes! And while I want and should be feeling like Charlie and Snoopy above, today I've mostly been thinking about my mom and a conversation she and I had on her 40th birthday back when I was in 7th grade. Back then, the thought of being forty was totally unfathomable to me. I thought for sure by 2011 we'd be flying around in space cars and that I'd have 4 kids and be living in some Blade Runner-esque world. When mom turned 40 she was super excited but also a little frightened. At the time she was contemplating leaving her job and beginning a whole new career, and she was dealing with the fact that her beloved mother was very sick and probably in the last months of her life (which turned out to be correct). Of course, she didn't share any of these big concerns with me; instead she talked with me about how when you're a teenager or young adult you tend to make all these plans that never actually become realized. And that that's okay. That the whole "everything happens for a reason" "God always has a plan" sentiments are actually pretty true. And how things are are how they were meant to be. My mom told me that when she was a freshman in college she imagined herself at 40 as being some famous artist living in Europe with a gaggle of children and some fancy bohemian husband. But that her reality, living in the nation's capitol, mother of an only child who she was raising practically on her own because of her husband's out of town job; was a better reality, and the right reality for her.

So here I am forty years old today. And I don't have a space car. Nor do I have any kids, much less four. I'm not a famous photojournalist working for National Geographic; my dream at 9. I'm not a marine biologist; my dream at 19. I'm not a famous novelist; yet. I work in health care, with Medicare policy. I live by myself with a dog I inherited in a lovely modern home in Seattle, WA. I have wonderful friends. I'm doing ok. This is my reality. It's the right reality for me.

A little more Jane...

I'm really going to miss her...

Another bad-ass big-busted babe that will be missed...

Today is the 4th anniversary of my dear mother's passing, and I am unbelievably depressed. I'm not sure why this year I'm feeling it in my bones more than last year. I should be getting over "it" by now shouldn't I? I guess I've been thinking about mortality a lot more over the past few months so her being gone seems more acute.

Jane Russell passed away last night. My mother LOVED Jane and thought she was one of the most beautiful actresses around. She thought of Jane Russell as the voluptous queen that all busty women should look up to. Of course my favorite thing that Russell ever did was Gentlemen Prefer Blondes with of course Marilyn Monroe. As a kid, I never understood why all the men in the film were gaga over Marilyn. She was pretty of course, but how could you care about her when there was Jane?!

RIP John Barry

I've already tweeted about my heavy heart in hearing Sunday evening that one of my favorite movie music composers, John Barry, had died of a heart attack at the age of 77. Barry composed many of my all-time favorite film scores. He, along with Ennio Morricone, was much loved by my mother, who appreciated movie scores, and what the music actually did for and to the film more than anyone I've ever known.
She passed this appreciation on to me at a fairly early age; so I was the dorky kid who was buying the Somewhere In Time soundtrack album in the Classical section of the Tower Records store, while all of my friends were buying the latest Duran Duran and Cure albums. Don't get me wrong, I was just as much into the new wave music, but when I wanted to daydream in my room or when I was writing my little short stories and living in my own fantasy world in my head, I would always turn on the John Barry music.

My favorite of the Barry scores may be the music he wrote for the cheesetastic film Somewhere In Time. The main theme evokes such emotion; love, loss, memory, longing, joy. It's so beautiful.
The most well-known John Barry music is probably all of the James Bond movie themes he composed in the 1960s and early 70s. And of course his Oscar and Grammy winning top ten hit "Born Free".
One of his Oscar score wins was for another favorite of mine, the music from Out of Africa. Barry's score and Meryl Streep are the only good things about that bloated film.

If you're interested in listening to some of John Barry's movie scores, I recommend downloading the album "Moviola". Rest in peace dear sir. I hope my mother gets to meet you up in heaven.

UPDATE on Things that blew my mind

Last week, I posted about my shock at finding out that radio personality Jesse Thorn isn't even 30 years old yet.
Well, this week came an even bigger shock - I know Jesse Thorn's mother! Our mothers were very close friends back in the 1970s. In fact, I have a picture of Jesse Thorn's mom hanging in the entry way of my house!
The story of how I discovered this crazy small-world coincidence is kind of funny.
I'm a little behind on my Jordan, Jesse, Go! podcast listening, so it was only yesterday morning that I began listening to episode #159 with Nick Adams from a couple of weeks ago. About 5 minutes in, the guys started talking about Wesley Snipes and my mind immediately went to a story that my aunt Claudia (my mom's best friend) told me about meeting him once.
No sooner was that thought bubble floating around in my head, when Jesse Thorn started talking about his aunt Claudia, his mother's best friend, and the story he told was the same as mine!!!

Anyway, I screamed out loud as he continued talking about Claudia and it all came to me - OMFG, Jesse MOTHERF*CKIN' Thorn is the son of my mom's friend Judy! I don't know why I've never connected this. I've always heard about Judy's kid being on the radio, but for some reason I thought he was some DJ in San Francisco.  And because until just recently I thought that Jesse Thorn was in his late 30s, and I knew Judy's son to be in his late 20s, there was no way for my brain to put two and two together.

It's definitely been the best thing that's happened to me all week. I look forward to reconnecting with Judy. I feel like my mom is orchestrating this whole thing from above. Thanks mommy!

Reality TV musings for the week of June 14

So You Think You Can Dance - we got through the first round of competition for this season 7 and eliminated our first girl. Even though it saddens me that we've only had 2 female winners for this show (Katee should've won season 4), I've resigned myself to the fact that this season the girls are severely out-classed by the guys. The talent level for the men is off the effin' charts! I've already predicted an all male top 4 in my SYTYCD fantasy pool (hurry and get your vote forms in before 6/23/10). So far I'm liking the All-Star concept, but I'm worried that we're going to have a serious lopsided field gender-wise.

Work of Art: The Next Great Artist - Boy did I want to hate this show. But, Bravo TV has done it again, by creating a reality show that TOTALLY appeals to me and has me hooked. Gosh, my mom would've loved this show. She was an artist that never got to have her day, but instead taught and went into the administrative end of things (at the Smithsonian). But she kept up on the NY and European scene and knew who was being promoted as the "next hot thing". Maybe it's the contestants on this innagural season, who are surprisingly likeable even when they're acting like pretentious pricks. Maybe it's the fact that the judges and host (take note Shear Genius!) are totally legit and real experts in the art world (I mean they have gawddam Simon de Pury as the mentor on the show. What?!) But so far this gem is nicely filling a void that I didn't realize I had in my reality tv world.

HGTV Design Star - season 5! In NYC! With no Clive as host! This week's premier got us off to a good start. I don't hate, nor have I bonded, with any of these candidates yet, but I like what I see from a few of them. Now if only Vern Yip would stop being so patronizing I think the show would be perfect.

Lena Horne, and other beautiful women

My grandmother Kay Jackson knew Lena Horne back in the 1940s and 50s, and was actually often mistaken for her. They did look incredibly alike. My grandmother would tell me stories about the few times that she got to hang out with Ms. Horne and about how they would laugh over the doppellganger effect. My mother looked a little like Lena as well (see below); and what my family and Lena Horne had the most in common were their beautiful singing voices. Losing Lena Horne this week almost feels like I'm losing my mom and grandmother all over again. I only hope that these three wonderful, amazing and gorgeous women are up in heaven right now; singing show tunes and laughing. And maybe watching over me.

Not just whistlin' Dixie...

I've lost another pivotal tv icon from youth. Damn, I'll miss Julia Sugarbaker something fierce!



I can't believe Dixie Carter has passed away. I knew that her husband, actor Hal Holbrook had been ill, but Dixie always seemed so healthy. My mom even had Dixie Carter's yoga videos that she put out in the early 90s. Losing Carter makes me think about my mom a lot. Okay, off to watch more Designing Women clips.

Just thinking a lot about my mom today

We're coming up on the 2nd anniversary of my mother's death and I'm finding that it's actually harder for me to deal this year than it was last year at this time. So many memories are crashing in. So I'll leave you with one of my mom's favorite poems and one of my favorite pictures of her. Have a blessed weekend!

Song of Shattering I

by Edna St. Vincent Millay

The first rose on my rose-tree

Budded, bloomed, and shattered,

During sad days when to me

Nothing mattered.
Grief of grief has drained me clean;

Still it seems a pity

No one saw, -- it must have been

Very pretty.

Merry Christmas to all...

I can't believe I'm sitting here on Christmas eve night. It couldn't feel less like Christmas to me. There's a lot contributing to my holiday ennui - this past week's snow storms, my dad's health problems, the various financial responsibilities that have been weighing on my shoulders, my general depression this year - it's all added up to me not having any sort of holiday spirit whatsoever.
For the first time in almost 15 years, I didn't send holiday cards out. Probably not a big deal to many I suppose. But the realization that I even sent (and made by hand) cards last year, when I was dealing with so much grief and stress, and couldn't get up enough motivation to even buy a box of $5 cards this year is rather depressing.

December 2007 was the first Christmas without my mother. It was so hard to deal with it, but surprisingly I'm feeling her loss more this year than last. I've also been plagued these past weeks with sad thoughts about the large box of Christmas ornaments and holiday stuff that my family had collected over the decades and my mother had maintained and treasured; the box that's languishing in the overpriced storage facility in Silver Spring, MD; family treasures gathering dust and somehow losing a bit of their magic sitting unused.
That box represents Christmas to me. It always will. And I think it finally dawned on me recently that I'm never going to have "Christmas" again. Because "Christmas" means that box in storage, and it means a fresh Douglas fir, and it means my mom.

We never shake the Christmases of childhood, and we spend our lives processing the memories into adult form. For the rest of my life I'm going to miss the contentment felt spending Christmas with my family in DC. I'll miss sitting in a chair with something hot and looking at the tree and listening to all of the holiday music that specifically defined childhood Christmas - Andy Williams, and Peanuts' Guaraldi. Sure, I can get the box of memories out of storage and bring it to Seattle; I can buy a tree and decorate it and listen to the music and drink hot cider enjoying the season. It's not the same, and it never will be, and that makes me terribly sad.

So I'm looking forward to 2009. I hope that it will be the year of healing for me that I'd hoped this year would be. And I hope to continue establishing new traditions that define "Christmas" to me and create new memories to be reminisced about later.
I know things will get better.