Sainted, Tainted and Grass Skirts

My local paper, the Pioneer Press has this great column called Sainted and Tainted. Anyone can write in write good or bad (Sainted or Tainted) moments that happened to them in St Paul. Mostly it’s about wallets returned, restaurant bills paid anonymously – lost dogs found. The tainted ones are the best. This was in today’s paper.

TAINTED
The reality TV show "Greatest American Dog." I grew up watching "Lassie" and have loved dogs my whole life. When I heard a commercial for "Greatest American Dog," I thought, why not watch it? Ten minutes later, I turned it off. I did turn it back on after about a half hour, hoping it would have gotten better, only to see the dog owners in grass skirts.
I know this is reality TV, but we humans have sunk to a low level, having our dogs act like us. It was pitiful, and I think those dogs need to adopt new masters.
Kathy Hamilton, St. Paul

I can see why umm she uh um What! Because of grass skirts! Dogs acting like us (?) Yes, of course.

Tainted and hideous. See for yourself:

Motel, Chelsea OK

Motel, Chelsea OK
Originally uploaded by Debora Drower.

In 2000, I went on a road trip to Austin, TX to see a good friend, Caroline. I took alot of side roads, shot the shit. You know. I traveled a bit on Route 66 and found this gorgeous old thing.

In November 2007 - I went on a road trip to Austin, TX to visit her again. I took the Lincoln Highway and other parts of Route 66. I have the world's greatest travel white noise generator/alarm clock. - it goes with me everywhere. Caroline and I take a road trip while I'm visiting her and of course plug in the alarm clock. When the alarm goes on, the white noise goes off. Then I start hearing shit in other hotel rooms. And that's what gets me up. Caroline is sound asleep after the alarm goes off. She's sleeping so soundly, that I think she's dead. Finally she wakes up - the best sleep she's ever had. I tell her how freaked out I was. The next morning - I'm a bit better prepared but it's like we're at the famous Hotel Chelsea where the Warhol superstars stayed. Is she Edie Sedgwick? It becomes the running joke.

I just sent Caroline a similar white noise generator (a much overdue birthday present). I didn't even know her neighbor would let her alarm clock go off for an hour - in her own Hotel Chelsea. Maybe someone got the neighbor girl a white noise machine. And Caroline tells me it's the best sleep she's gotten since the Motel Chelsea.

Little Debora Snacks

Little Debora Snacks
Originally uploaded by Debora Drower.

Damn you Little Debbie and Mrs Freshley. I love your 100 calorie products. Which by the way, Deb, you seem to be ashamed of because they are buried on your web site. Mrs Freshley's is a bit more out out in the open. Can I buy your products at my local grocery store? No. I have to gird my loins, suck it up and go to a Super Walmart to obtain your products. Is Super Walmart any where near my house? No fucking way. It's a trip to East Jesus nowhere. But the dazzling array of snackitude when I arrive is almost worth the trip.

Damn you both for my snack jones.

Dear God

I don't believe in you. Dear god
I wont believe in heaven and hell.
No saints, no sinners,
No devil as well.
No pearly gates, no thorny crown.
Youre always letting us humans down.
The wars you bring, the babes you drown.
Those lost at sea and never found,
And its the same the whole world round.
The hurt I see helps to compound,
That the father, son and holy ghost,
Is just somebody's unholy hoax,
And if you're up there you'll perceive,
That my hearts here upon my sleeve.
If theres one thing I don't believe in...

Its you,
Dear god.

Jabba the Hut

StarWars exhibition - Jabba the Hut
Originally uploaded by Lizzie-G.

I was feeling sluggish the other day - moving as fast as Jabba the Hut. Driving to get a massage from a dear friend of mine. We exchange stories during the massage. I was feeling dull and felt I had no stories to tell her. Last time she told me about a Werebear that got me laughing. I told her I was feeling like Jabba the Hut. And she responds in that guttural way Jabba talks. And we both started laughing. Then the conversation morphed into people who talk like cartoon characters. She knows a man who talks like Mr Lunt of Veggie Tales. I know a guy who talks like one of the characters from the movie, Galaxy Quest.

Pretty cool to walk in as Jabba and leave laughing.

"Sad fish"

"Sad fish"
Originally uploaded by iamthefinn.

Update: Karen, yet another Pisces, just got fired. Wow. Sad fish indeed. The old post follows below:

A few weeks ago, a dear friend, Chris, leaves me a voicemail. He’s all jokey and says, “Hi, I had a heart attack call me back!” Asshole! Why would he joke around like that? We take classes together and mostly I just punch him on the arm and tell him he’s retarded. We do joke around a lot. So I call back and his girlfriend, Lisa answers. She says she overheard him and he was a jerk for leaving that message. He was serious! He did have a heart attack. That fucker. He’s 43, in good shape but has a family history of heart problems. I get the story. He was having chest pain and Lisa (who can be tough) told him he could go to the hospital by car or ambulance. Those were the choices. They get to the hospital he is having a heart attack and one of his arteries was 60% blocked. He has a stent put in and he’s doing good.

I get shots and there’s this receptionist, Dee who is another dear friend. She’s one of my favorite reasons I go to the allergist (besides getting shots.) She turned 40 this March and I surprised her with a box of chocolates and some champagne. That was fun seeing the expression on her face when I surprised her. I go to get my shot a few weeks ago and she wasn’t there. A day off – they said. I just mentioned to her that I missed seeing her and she has another hospital story. She was feeling really exhausted and being in a doctor’s office she had her blood pressure checked – it’s really high. She feels really sick, goes to the hospital and she’s having a big diabetic reaction and nearly dies from it. Holy shit!

Both of these friends are Pisces. Weird! I, too am a Pisces. Makes me worry.

Mr. Peanut

Mr. Peanut
Originally uploaded by agilitynut.

O.k. Mr Peanut, you are my only hope. I hope you are pointing the way to my last allergy test.

I didn't realize legumes were in so much stuff - like Vitamin E.

Is this it??

Bob Smiths Sports Club, Hudson, WI

Bob Smiths Sports Club, Hudson, WI
Originally uploaded by Debora Drower.

Bob, I'm coming by after work. If you can pull down that big ass shot gun for me off the sign - I need it. Don't ask. And a single malt scotch - god, I hope you have some good stuff there. What sides come with those steaks? Fries? I'll need a double order.

I'll see you later, buddy.

One bourbon, one scotch, one beer

One bourbon, one scotch, one beer
Originally uploaded by Saloponc (Con un Farias entre los dientes...).

I am starting this pretty hard core cleanse. No bourbon, no scotch and no beer for me. Not for a while. Friends think I'm crazy.

Maybe it will help.

Dreams

hard curves
Originally uploaded by Azure Bleu.

I had a dream where I saw a bridge like this. The curve, the rivets. Then it turned into oil derricks that were pumping oil.


Oil Derrick
Originally uploaded by neillharmer.

Last night in my dreams I had a bunch of ropes that were covered in diamonds. I was using it like you would on a ship. I wrapped these ropes around a tie off.

Maybe I'm slowly getting the pieces to a puzzle.

Nate's Clothing, Minneapolis MN

Nate's Clothing, Minneapolis MN
Originally uploaded by Debora Drower.

See this work and others at:

Bloomingdales at Mall of America
Men's Dept
May 14 - June 18, 2008

"Nostalgic and Roadside America"
Open during store hours - check web site above.

That's a Spicy Meatball!

What an oldie!

Moonstruck

James was out with his brother Paul pruning some grape vines. Two times, they stopped to talk to each other - not paying attention tothe sharp shears. Each time they each cut their thumbs pretty bad. Same thumb on both of them. They had to work bloody and silent the rest of the day.

You have to go 2 minutes into the clip where Johnnie talks about losing his hand and being a freakin' monument to justice.

Flamingo Motel, Marshalltown, IA

Flamingo Motel, Marshalltown, IA
Originally uploaded by Debora Drower.

I had to go see this flamingo because when I was at a show in Des Moines, IA - I was asked if my flamingo shot (below) was the same flamingo as the one above:



Oh duh No!

I had one guy telling me in Des Moines about my shot (from the Wisconsin Dells) and was pointing and saying this was the fire station and a machine shop. And he was WRONG. He was pointing to buildings in the Dells NOT stupid Marshalltown IA.

Arghhhhhh. I'll never go back to any art fair in IA. Not Des Moines or sadly Sioux City. Because they get their flamingos all mixed up. And they won't buy my work.

Dance Card

Deco Dance Card
Originally uploaded by Paula Wirth.

My dance card is getting full. I love that expression. Maybe a night of scotch and stories. Or BBQ. Deep dish pizza, a funny play. Gosh!

Debora and Karen's Healthy Eating...

Debora and Karen's Healthy Eating...
Originally uploaded by Debora Drower.

..through chemistry. Karen and I are going to have a catering service much like Seattle Sutton's. We know too many people who need to be on medication but just don't know it. So we'll bring them their food already laced with meds for depression, OCD what have you and life will be grand for everyone. Us included.

I told my therapist, as she was writing out MY prescriptions, about the idea and she loved it. She told me if you can declare family members incompetent, then you can control their meds. She said we'd probably make millions of dollars until we got sued. Then we should leave the country.

She is the world's greatest therapist.

Sass the grrrr

Sass
Originally uploaded by Debora Drower.

Pat and I took the feisty old Sass to the doctor today. She had been getting more cranky and fussy about her food. She could barely walk into the doctor's office. They x-rayed her and saw cancer in her lungs and on her side, and her hips were really deteriorated. The doctor was telling us of more pain meds that Sass could go on. Pat leveled with me and said there were so many problems, and she was so old. We should let her go. I had been blocking the thought of putting her to sleep, I couldn't face it. But seeing those x rays and knowing that she must be in alot of pain really nailed it. We hung out with her and petting her getting one last foot (she puts her big warm paws on you like she's healing you) And we stayed until the end. I have not stopped crying since we left her.

She's always been such a sweet thing, so compassionate, I knew she had to have a big heart and the x ray showed it - she did, she really really had a big heart. And Pat and I laughed seeing her actual big heart. You've left a big hole in my heart, my Sassala, I'll love you forever.

Sleep well, sweetie - see you in my dreams.

Phil and Eleanor

Phil and Eleanor!
Originally uploaded by Debora Drower.

I got an email today that Phil had died. I am so sad. There's a nice article here. I am so glad James and I went and had a great dinner there last fall. I can't stop crying.

Higbee, MO

Higbee, MO
Originally uploaded by Debora Drower.

James and I were on the hunt for vineyards in Missouri. Looking at the map, we saw that off the main highway was this cute town, Higbee (fun to say!) and a vineyard. We stopped in town for gas and at the gas station a personable man overheard us asking where the vineyard was. He joked that he'd see us there because his son owned it. We pulled around the corner so I could shoot some shots then headed to the vineyard. There was the son and the dad and we had a grand old time talking wine and sampling the products. We learned that they're coopers - henceforth the name The Cooper's Oak Winery. A manufacturer of fine American oak barrels. We got an extensive tour of the place - of their barrels, and all the processes it takes to make an oak barrel. There's also an antique shop and the collection of barrels that Dale, the dad has collected. They even will sell old barrels - something that James was interested in. It was such a wonderful visit . I kept asking James -"When are we going back - you know to get the barrels?"

10 years ago today...

Sass smiles in the snow
Originally uploaded by Debora Drower.

...Pat and I went to the Humane Society of St Paul. We were thinking of adopting a dog. The other dogs were trying to sell themselves by barking and jumping up and down. "Get me, adopt me" they seemed to be saying. We saw this one dog. She was dirty and skinny and was at the back of the kennel with her head down. The little sad dog had given up. Not working it at all. It brought tears to my eyes - this Charlie Brown Christmas tree dog and I turned to Pat to see tears in his eyes. We took the dog out for a walk and she brightened up. Getting away from the noise made her much happier. We took her home and put 20 lbs of Science Diet on her. This is that same sad doggy 10 years later playing in the snow. Miss Sass. Happy Birthday girl.

Good Friday

Long ago on a Good Friday, Patrick's (my ex) brother, Mark came home on leave from the air force. He really wanted some bacon. Being a good Catholic, he would've been fasting. And during Lent - you don't eat meat on Fridays. His mom, a wonderfully wild spirited Pisces thought - what the hell and got out the fry pan to cook the bacon. Also, Jesus was Jewish - he would've never had bacon - keeping Kosher (you'd think.) All things put together possibly caused a big grease fire on the stove. A modern day smiting perhaps? Or just coincidence?

I am respectful of the Catholics in my life and I don't eat meat on Fridays. But tonight, they'll all be in church. For Christmas, I received the Band aids shown above.
Is it wrong to use a bacon-like Band aid on Good Friday to cover a burn from a bacon grease fire?

Toilet Godess

Toilet for you
Originally uploaded by mrlego54.

Let me start off by saying I have to pee - alot. My close friends are never shocked when I have to go - they're more shocked when I don't. I also have a fiery nature. Also I am loud and outspoken. Often times my feistiness shows itself in the many bathrooms I find myself in. It seems in Minnesota what people call Minnesota Nice is actually this weird passive-aggressive shit. A few weeks ago, I was out with my book club - a bunch of really fun ladies. We were picking on Mike, the black waiter. Maybe there was wine involved, but I don't remember. When he came by to see if we wanted dessert, Jenny, gave him a wink and said sort of lasciviously, "I'm thinking of something...chocolate." I hated to miss out more of that humor but I had to go pee. Damn wine. There's a long line - all because one the stalls was out of paper. I walk over to the cabinet under the sink - there's a gorgeous array of rolls and I grab two rolls, one for each stall. Those Minnesotans just can't do it. They can't ask for paper, or get a staff member to get more if it runs out. Or even just check that someone is in the stall. I feel it's my life's mission to educate the fine people I encounter in the bathroom.
I'm like a Johnny Appleseed - spreading not apples but toilet goodwill with a dose of assertiveness throughout out the land.

Or find a way to stop peeing so much.

Valentine's Day

I found this funny heart tattoo sign in Austin,TX. The street was named Jessie but through the magic of the Roadway font - it's my street and my house number. And a nod to Caroline who lives in Austin.

Last year, Pat and I watched, "Apocalypto" at a dollar theater on a cold night. We were both without valentines and thought a bloody movie about hearts being ripped out would be good right before bed time. And the nightmares we both had! Oy - Mel!

Is it more fun to be bitter and to curse your mail box?

Tangent - A few years ago, I was at the big, marbled Minneapolis post office. A guy was checking his post office box. The post office is a long, cavernous building. When he found out he had not one valentine, he started yelling, "And I didn't even get one FUCKING valentine!!" It echoed all over and while my day hadn't been that bad. I smiled and appreciated his exclamation. In Minnesota, there's no honking or yelling. It was a lovely sentiment on all fronts.

Or better to have a vase of pretty pink and red flowers and the promise of a steak dinner?

Jucy Lucys and Maks

Jucy Lucy
Originally uploaded by frozendog.

We took Maks to Matt's bar for one these bad boys. There is a fine art to eating a Jucy Lucy (yes, it's spelled like that.) You need to wait. Patiently - that's why the basket of fries. To kill time waiting for the burger and molten cheese to cool. We kept trying to warn Maks. He took too big a first bite and the cheese oozed out - all over his pants. Then he kept taking bites around the burger - making even more of a mess. Ah well.

Then we went to (sigh of resignation) Mall of America for some mini golf. He's a competitive little thing. He'd be so gleeful if he shot better than me or James. He'd exclaim - "You lost!!!!" And I'd think, no - I won. Because he was having a good time and laughing.

Ratt Hair Party

Babysitting the other weekend, We were talking about hair. First, guys have to learn how to brush their girlfriend's hair on the chance they end up having a girl child.

Then the discussion turned to Sarah's hair. She hates to have it brushed and had it had gotten all ratty. Somehow it got all mixed up into rats having a party in her hair.

Luckily long ago the 80's hair band, Ratt, made this rat party video:

Harvest gold pants

tosia pants
Originally uploaded by KarWar.

Driving back from coffee, Patrick somehow got on a rant about Colin and the harvest gold corduroy pants. I'm trying to think how we went from ripping on a badly designed billboard to Colin but it's lost to me. Long long long ago, Colin - of the pants, who was three, was running around Patrick's family's house. The harvest gold corduroy pants were filled with the world's biggest and stinkiest dump. That's pretty much the whole story, but Patrick likes to go one that Colin is probably still wearing those (you have to always say the whole color) harvest gold corduroy pants. With the big dump. And Colin has had a hideous diaper rash for something like 30 years. I had one of those laughing fits where you cannot talk or breathe. I was punching Pat because I couldn't talk. And he kept ranting. It was funny and I guess you had to be there.

Crocodile Rock - Elton John

My sister and I made up some silly dance to Crocodile Rock when we were young. When I was older my mom, of all people, recognized Elton John in a restaurant while on a vacation to L.A. with my family. I was more bold, so I approached Elton John with a napkin and pen and told him we (I pointed to my scared shitless sister) used to dance to Crocodile Rock. He autographed the napkin and said something like it seems you've survived so far. The best part
of it was when we got back to the table I turned to my sister and asked her (mockingly) " Oh wait, did Elton John sing Crocodile Rock?" And she gasped! I just laughed. Simpler times.

Daily Democrat

Daily Democrat, Pauls Valley, OK
Originally uploaded by Debora Drower.

Happy New Hampshire primary! Go Hilary and Go Obama. Why not. We're all from Chicago. Good luck.

Big Fish

I watched the movie, "Big Fish" tonight. The whole movie is great. A movie about stories, tale tales, love, losing love, finding love. Great quotes, "Sometimes, the only way to catch an uncatchable woman is to offer her a wedding ring." I pretty much cried all the way through it. I'd pause, get more kleenex and then the waterworks would start back up. I'm not sure why.

Me, my Christmas lights and a big fish It was actually kinda nice. Quiet and peaceful.

Groundhog Day

In the movie, "Groundhog Day," Bill Murray is doomed to repeat the same day over and over again until he gets it right. Everyday in the movie, Bill steps in this big puddle of slush up to the top of his boot. Finally one day he AVOIDS the puddle. Going to a job I used to drive on I-94 and I'd hit the same pothole every damn day. I'd even yell out, Groundhog Day!" as I hit it. Maybe once in a blue moon I'd avoid that stupid pothole. It took a long long time to remember to avoid it.

So stupid me. I am out to dinner. There's candles, roses, red wine and sweetness. And there's that pothole full of slush. And I step in it. I step in other holes and splash the shit all over the place. A nice dinner ruined by slush. Old gray slush. I could walk around the hole, avoid the hole. But I step right in. It could've been a really great dinner and no amount of apologies can clean off the slush. Just walk consciously walk around it, Drower. Walk around it. Avoid it. Let go of it. Is it just laziness that we walk through it? Because it's an old habit. Because you deserve cold feet? Because it feels more comfortable to be uncomfortable. Because later you replay it over and over and torment yourself and make even more angst.

Someday, I'll wake up to Sonny and Cher and let the slush go. Someday I'll learn. Maybe I've got more doomed days to repeat. Until I get it right.

Pile Your Arms High With Smokes

Pile Your Arms High With Smokes
Originally uploaded by Charm and Poise.

An early Merry Christmas present from me.
And cancer.

LSMFT

Sass, the guard doggy

Sass
Originally uploaded by Debora Drower.

You tell 'em girl. Grrrrr - stay away! We are tired and crabby and in need of naps. Or candy. Or meat. Sass asks, "when are we going to Fogo de Chão??"

I'm Bad

Hanging out with the crotch grabbin' bad kids at Echo's again. What can I say. The kid's table is the best. Someone's gotta make up for the missing Pamie Lou, TM and Carlene.

Mad As Hell ...

And I'm not gonna take it anymore.

Me and Jameson

Me and Jameson
Originally uploaded by Debora Drower.

Cause I drink alone, yeah, with nobody else.
I drink alone, yeah, with nobody else.
Yeah, you know when I drink alone, I prefer to be by myself.

Now, the other night I lay sleeping,
And I woke from a terrible dream.
So I called up my pal, Jack Daniels,
And his partner Jimmy Beam.

Rooms of Love

I have adored this photo, this artist since I first saw this show at the MOMA eons ago. I have my own - and it's also called the Rooms of Love.



Above is my latest shot.


I also shot it two years ago.



I've got to get other people to love it as much as I do.

Fight the power

I heard Fight The Power this morning coming into work. It was good to scream along with Flava and Chuck D because I am stressed. I’ve had too much shit going on and the shit aint stoppin’ neither. Last weekend we went back to Medford, WI to visit Phil and Eleanor’s for dinner and it was so cute. I’ll have to write more on that trip when I’m not in a bitching mood. A friend called last minute for a concert at a lesbian bar on Sunday. Then Monday, a ghost tour in the Halloween Capital of the world. I had to scramble to get everything ready for the Halloween onslaught. I had 130 kids and I was on a sugar high until about 11 pm. A local indie ghost movie (only one showing) was last night. There’s a musical tonight. At some point, I want to watch my Thursday night NBC TV funfest. And then today, I head a friend is having an art opening on Sunday. SHIT! It’s too much. And I owe these friends who’ve come to my shit. But does it all have to be right the fuck now. Right the fuck now. I can’t wait for Sunday night when it’s all the fuck over.

I'm ready and hyped plus I'm amped
Most of my heroes don't appear on no stamps!

Hyped plus I'm amped. Fight the power. Fight the power and say no. No more shit. No more events. No more. Just let me rest.

Time Has Come Today

Fall. Autumn. Funny to use a song about time to talk about my favorite radio stations. I listen to KLBB. The music of your life as they call it. Dean Martin, Sinatra, Mills Brothers. The morning DJ is Reed Hagen. Who has this rich, buttery set of pipes. I just love hearing that if I have to get up early. But they're a low watt station and they have to power down when it's dark. In the summer the sun is up and so is KLBB - at full power. But now in fall, it's dark and so is the station. It's kind of there - just not at full power until it's light. The signal drifts in and out, no rich buttery tones - just fizz. So, I have the clock set to this really annoying station FM107. It's like chick talk day and night. It gets me right out of bed so I can turn it off. There is the ABC news at the top of the hour. Which is better than KLBB's Fox Radio, "We report, you decide." But Reed. I miss my morning cup of Reed.

Also, Radio K, a great college radio station is the same. Luckily there is an FM station. But long ago, it used to be that when it got dark, so did Radio K. I remember one cold dark winter day and the sun was setting around 4 and so was my cool radio station. What a bunch of shit.

But now they're both on the Internet, but I mostly listen in the car or clock radio - so the Internet doesn't help me much. Time has come for fall and winter to be dark and cold. And without music. When I need it most.

Bear bait

We had just come from Medford, WI and saw Phil and Eleanor's steak house

and got great stories. Then on to the Florena Supper club.

The guy comes out and asks what am I doing. I try to engage him but he's not in a story mood.

We go up the road to Prentice, WI and see the Bear Bait Ford. I'm walking around, getting different angles and we decide to go in. There's an old guy on an old couch
And then oddly, James asks to use the bathroom. It's weird. I had hoped for maybe an old service station. Candy, postcards. Old cute retro stuff around. Like a movie set. No, It's got junk. And odd metal scrap. I try to talk to the old guy on the couch but he's deaf as a post. I'm talking loud to him but to no avail. He somehow manages to tell me the Ford sign isn't for sale. Then some other old guys come in and they're talking about the sign - it's now only a few thousand dollars. The creep level cranks up a notch. James is taking forever. I'm sending him psychic signals that we HAVE TO Ghttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gifO. The woman's bathroom looks way too creepy. I'll just wait. And I'm not that picky. Suddenly, some younger people come in but when they start talking - the weird gets weirder. They somehow know old deaf as a post and get food out of a small dirty fridge. They are off somehow, learning disabled or cross bred and it's like those Diane Arbus photos of retarded people. It's amazingly creepy and now I'm thinking we're the bear bait. We will all be eaten by bears. Me and this creepshow all in some bear's stomach. James FINALLY comes out and I give him the hairy eyeball meaning let's get the fuck out of here. Outside I snap a few more shots, even some close ups of the Ford sign as more bear bait goes into the shop. Chomp, chomp chomp.

Phil and Eleanor's Steakhouse

I had been at an art fair in Wausau, WI. I wanted to take Hwy 8 back to the Twin Cities. We had this notion that we'd make it to St Croix by 6pm to visit a vineyard. Driving through Medford, WI, we saw this sign. Did I want to stop and shoot it? No. We found the little downtown and drove around. Cute. Leaving we could go left and continue or if we go right, I can shoot Phil and Eleanor's. It's not in the sun, but I could shoot it for reference. We go back and pull in. As if we've planned it - out of the restaurant comes the actual Phil and Eleanor. I tell them I love the sign and want to photograph it. James stays and chats with them. I get the shot above. When I come back- they've offered to give us a tour. You can see the whole set here. Eleanor shows off her original kitchen and give us a sample of some toasted bread they serve for an appetizer. We hear stories that she bought the place as a young girl. It had originally just been the bar tended by a crust old guy. She's been making the food by hand ever since. There are some big companies in town and they'll reserve the whole place so you gotta call ahead. You can see the menu and the gorgeous bar with sparkly blue bar stools. I have been pestering James that we gotta go back so we can eat there. And I want to print up all these pictures and bring them along. I worry we'll get snowed in - like in "Seven brides for Seven brothers" and wont be able to get back to Medford, WI. With the pass being blocked. I bet the food is great. And maybe we can get to the vineyard we never to.

Tired

I'm tired - tired of playing the game.

Shopping in Camazotz

This is some old photo of the Chicago Marshall Fields. Back in the day. When you dressed up to go shopping. Hats, dresses. My grandma would take us downtown for our back to school clothes. Maybe we'd have lunch at Fields. With Grandma it was just "Fields." My great Aunt Bobbie also loved to go to the downtown Marshall Fields. Not the suburban ones. She couldn't walk far so she'd tell my mom they'd just pull up to the front and, "God will provide." My mom would imagine the crowds and traffic and would doubt the luck of getting a spot out front. Lo and behold - a spot would ALWAYS be there for Aunt Bobbie. Our family still invokes her name if we need parking space help. I don't know if it would work for non-family members - someone could try and let me know.

Even though I'm 42, I still have that urge right as the air gets cooler, for some new shoes, socks and a sweater or two. I found these certain kind of hiking shoes I like. And I went back to store and they still made them. The same style! That never happens. I fall in love with some shoe or food or a guy - then the next time you want that thing - it's gone. Or different. REI had one pair - but out in Maple Grove. And they don't transfer their stock. Maple Grove is supposed to look like a little town with a main street. A main street with all chain stores. Remember the town of Camazotz from the book, Wrinkle in Time." All these malls look the same. Oh look a restaurant - wait it's a Buca. Donuts - Krispy Kreme. No independent anything. No cute stationery store. Or drugstore. Or indie coffee shop. All chains. Comforting icons of capitalism. And those scary twisty mall parking lot streets that go curling on forever. Not a grid or straight line. I go out there buy the shoes. And then try to leave. I keep twisting around. I see a Byerly's grocery store. So I load up on non perishable food in case I can never get out. Then I see a Hampton Inn. I may have to get a room if this turns into Hotel California (I cannot believe I am quoting the Eagles - and I hate the fucking Eagles) See how bad it was:

Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back
To the place I was before
'Relax,' said the night man,
'We are programmed to receive.
You can check-out any time you like,
But you can never leave!'

Following a bunch of other lost souls, I finally stumble on a sign pointing back to the highway. I escape. It's a long way back from Camazotz. Although it wasn't my time, I yearn for the days of dressing up, going to a real downtown, grid streets and a big department store. Those days are gone like many of the stores in real downtowns. The twisty streets in the suburbs are winning and I fear it will all be one great Camazotz life style center. Yuck!

Circus of travel

Like Billy in the Family Circus taking one of his “directional paths,” that was how I made it to work today. Thanks MNDOT! Because of the 35-W bridge collapse, they’re adding lanes to I-94 and had to close it. The Marshall Street Bridge is the closest street to I-94. I get in the car on autopilot and get on Marshall. And wonder why in the hell everyone else is as well. And on a Saturday. Oh shit, the highway is closed. I decide to drive a few miles south to the Ford Bridge to cross. And then I have to go north again to get back to work. What slayed me were all these SUV cars driving like babies. It’s like that scene in the movie, “Cars” where they have to teach the scared SUVs to go into the mud. Aren’t they supposed to be fearless in those big gas-guzzling pieces of shit? I have a Saturn Vue – some call an SUV. But I drive fast. Even in the rain. I only wish I had the ability to make that thick dashed line like Billy when he was meandering all about instead of doing what ever he was supposed to be doing.

It's show time folks!

This is me lately, the cigarette in the shower, eye drops and dexedrine. Nah, it's more like three ibuprofen and another cup of cold coffee. But I do pay homage to the movie,"All that Jazz," by saying, "It's show time." When I slam some more pills and speed to keep me going. I can't do speed. Once, in college, I got some. And I was funny. Oh, I was so funny. And then I crashed, hard. Fucking hard. I started screaming at a girl on my dorm floor and she never talked to me again. And I've never done real speed since then. Coffee is good enough. Maybe the Allegra provides a nice ECA Stack effect. And if you feel like getting down to some George Benson - then you can watch some dance tryouts to go along with it.

I am preparing a metric ton of art for some upcoming art shows. It's almost show time. Back to the drugs. And the wet smoke in the shower.

Porky's Drive In, St Paul MN

Porky's Drive In, St Paul MN
Originally uploaded by Debora Drower.

Amy, I'll meet you at Porky's. I so need a milk shake. And someone to listen to me. You always say a Porky's milkshake can cure just about anything. Right? Shit, what a week! I'll probably get the Cruiser Combo and I'll get you whatever you want. Just get your ass over there, OK? Ok? No excuses, no standing me up. It's been a long time so let's do it. It's been four fucking years. Four fucking years. I'll be waiting at one of the picnic tables. Maybe it'll be weird talking to you - I mean I know when you're there even if no one can see you. We'll talk and eat and I'll have a great time talking to you and pretending you're still alive. And still my friend.

love, Debora

Portrait of a young girl

It's a picture of me modeling one of my mom's quilted jackets. I remember reading the book,"A Winter's Tale" where Beverly and Peter Lake are having their portrait painted. Years later, Peter (who then has amnesia) sees the painting and the past is restored to him. As my mom took the picture, I was thinking of Burt, my high school boyfriend. How I'd see him later that night. It was summer and we'd probably listen to my crappy music tapes on the Radio Shack tape deck my dad installed in my mom's 1972 Toyota Corolla. Maybe we'd end up at the beach at Northwestern or the lighthouse. Or we'd just cruise. And while Burt is long gone, I have nice memories captured in a portrait.

Public Enemy and amping

Back in our MCAD days, I’d go to Caroline’s and we’d listen to Public Enemy. There’s a line in the song, “Fight the Power” where they sing, “I'm ready and hyped plus I'm amped, Most of my heroes don't appear on no stamps.” Then we both started using the word amped and no one could remember who started it first. I claimed because she had the album, it was her. She thinks it was me. Either way amped, amping is OURS.

On my birthday this year, I get a garbled voice mail message. I almost delete it. It’s not name I recognize on the Caller id. It is an Austin, TX number. The person is calling from it sounds like a Public Enemy concert. It sounds like the “amped” part of the song. I had to play it a few times. I send Caroline an email wondering if it was her. She was so proud I figured out it was a friend’s cell phone and yes at a Public Enemy concert. And I share a birthday with Flava Flav!!!

Today, I’m the white guy in the car screaming along to Public Enemy. I pull up at work, turn off the music and a black guy parked in car nearby asks what I was listening to. I cannot believe an older black guy would not know Public Enemy. He didn’t. And tells me the singer sounds like James Brown. I break it to him that it’s an old angry rap group. I walk into work laughing. I have to find someone and laugh about a tiny white girl telling a black guy about Public Enemy. Sad. Makes you want to amp about it.

Bad Pants and moon dust in your hair

I had a hideous pair of pants similar to the ones shown. I can remember wearing these pants to first grade. Bad in many ways; I hated how they looked. And they itched. Like fucking crazy. They were wool, so I was in loud pants made me feel crazy and hot. I got cranky wearing them and it caused a day something like in "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day." I wanted to kill everyone in my first grade class. If my classroom had a phone in it back then, Australia would've been on the speed dial. No I don't think they have those kind of pants in Australia. I came home from school after that day of itchy, cranky, loud and ripped those fuckers OFFF!!! The next time I had to wear those pants I remembered the shitty day I had wearing them and they became known as, "The Bad Pants." I think there were additional shitty days. As a kevetching Jew, I wore them every chance I could get. Ba dump bump!

Now if I had a pair of magical pants. I look great in them, everyone would laugh at my jokes and would find me utterly attractive. If I wore them, candy would fall from the sky and the the angels would get together and decide to create a dream come true. So they sprinkled moon dust in my hair of gold and starlight in my eyes of blue. Oh whoops, getting all Carpenters on you. It's in your head (it's in mine) so go ahead. Play it. It'll help with the ear worms and the sadness of the bad pants Where are those magic pants? Huh, fairies? Would the moon dust help?

There was a boy, there wasn't a boy

I love this scene from the movie the Prestige. The angry man and what he says to his wife. It kills you. It rips my heart out to hear her ask, "Do you love me?" And he replies, "Not today, no." Oh ouch. Isn't that it. Some days they love you, some days their eyes light up and some days it's a stone cold no, I don't love you today. So why...why? And crying hard, leaning over the sink you think about the how the water would wash the cuts clean if you reached for the big knife in the dish rack.

There was a boy, there wasn't a boy. And you doubt your memories, you deny the truth and hope that maybe tomorrow - he'll love you then.

White

White, the color is very calming and healing to me. I was chanting this last night out on a walk:
White clouds
White
White frosting
White
White light
White
White bright
White
White healing energy
White
White snow
White
White sheets
White
White healing energy
White
White mayo
White
White sheets
White
White curtains blowing
White
White cotton balls
White
White skin
White
White Oreo inside
White
White bread
White
White paper
White
White
White
White
White

Orange Crush St Paul, MN

Orange Crush Laundromat, St Paul, MN
Originally uploaded by Debora Drower.

I am smitten
I'm the real thing
(I'm the real thing)
Won't you be my valentine?
My crush with eyeliner

New Shoes

When I was kid, we had a park nearby. It was a nice park. I can remember this slide. Not a tall slide, not the skinny kind but a wide one. Short and wide. Kinda dumb. And metal. Hot metal to burn your ass off. Maybe it was for the really little kids. But we wouldn't let them play on it. We didn't slide on it - we'd walk up it. Or burn our asses. You could tell how old your shoes were by the traction you got going up the slide. It sucked when the tread was totally worn down and you'd slip and fall. Then you'd have to slide and burn your ass. A bummer on many fronts. Then there'd be that magical hot summer day. The trip to the shoe store. Air conditioned and smelling of leather and shoe spray. I know once I got PF Flyers. Or was it Keds. I took the ad to "run faster and jump higher" seriously. I kicked my old shoes under the bed, put on my new shoes and ran to the park. Or flew. I could walk up the slide. I was the king of the playground. For that day. For a while when you put on your new shoes, they're magic. They make you feel alive. You really could fly if you knew how. At some point, you don't even realize it but the new shoes have become commonplace. Just a part of the scenery. Worn in. Worn down. Sometimes you go dig out the old pair - they're comfortable, worn in even if they are missing some tread. Someday, the new pair, will get old, lose it's power and shoved under the bed.

Artfest Midwest, Des Moines IA

I'll be in Des Moines this weekend at the Artfest Midwest.

ArtFest Midwest Show Times
Show Hours:

10am - 6pm Saturday

10am - 5pm Sunday

Come and buy my work

The Red Tent

28 days ago I started reading the "Red Tent" for my book club. I loved the idea of a red tent – a place for women to go during their period, childbirth or illness. It was the first day of my period when I started reading the book and it’s the start of my period now as I end it. Kinda weird, kinda cool. I’ve always wanted a secret red tent kind of place to go when I’m on the rag. A cool little retreat somewhere – stocked with salty chips, Uno’s Pizza, frosting, premium ice cream, my bed, a TV, DVD player and all my favorite sappy movies.

One of my favorite stories about a period involves Patrick’s sister, Charity. She’s quite an outspoken woman – to put it mildly. It was the first day of her period and she was helping a relative move. Some neighbor starting yelling at her for some reason and she screamed back at him, “NOBODY FUCKS WITH ME ON THE FIRST DAY OF MY PERIOD!!!!” So when I’m getting growly on the first day of MY period all I have to say to those who know me is, “You know what Charity would say….” And I don’t even have to scream. Sometimes it helps. Where is that red tent?

Kiss of Life

This song came up on my iPod. It reminds me of one special magical kiss that was the kiss of life. As the song played, I had this vision, that if...if I got married, I'd have this song play at the reception and dedicate it to the man who gave me that kiss of life.

Guess Who - No Time

No time left for you. No time left for me. I am too busy - I have to take a day off just to clean a little. No time, no time no time. I got got got got no time.

And with time code for fun!

Ain't no sunshine

Except I sing it "Ain't no sunshine when HE's gone."

Any time he goes away. Any time he goes away.

It's the plumber

I've come to fix the sink!
Another favorite from the Electric Company. I forgot how funky their logo was!

Dawn Portrait of a Teenage Runaway 1976 - Eve Plumb

I saw this long ago as an after school special. Jan Brady as a hooker. Thanks Cranky Recaps!