Post-Election Blues

pre suicide blonde

Memphis Earlene’s beverage of choice these days is White Russians, which seems so wrong.

Blues Beverages are whiskey and wine.

“Blues women do not drink alcoholic beverages that taste like dessert. It’s a Code violation,” I tell her.

“Blues women make their own rules,” says Memphis Earlene.

A few minutes of silence ensue.

I’m the one who needs a code to live by in these troubled times,  which I expect to last till the end of my life and beyond. Hence the no bourbon before five rule.

In the meantime I drink flat Coke Zero and brood.

Latte Woman drinks coffee 24/7.

“For a chronically depressed person time can move awfully slowly. Caffein picks up the pace,”, she explained once. “Caffein takes the energy of chronic anxiety and turns it into enough tension to support a high wire act, which is what life is when you think about it.”

It can also make you chatty and speedy.

Rapid flow of half-baked ideas may ensue.

Today Latte Woman is exceptionally wired.

“Remember when America really was Great? There was a 1957 Chevy Be-Air in every driveway. Most beautiful car in the world.  Cars had faces then.  Guys could repair their own cars . You didn’t need a degree in computers. Remember Car Talk? ”

The majority of white women voted Republican.

“I still don’t get it,” I say.

“Stockholm Syndrome,” says Latte Woman

“ Hillary could’ve got the white woman vote if only she’d had breast cancer,” says Memphis Earlene.

As if Hillary Clinton hadn’t taken enough punishment?

“That’s cold.  Even for you,” I say.

“Nothing makes a woman relatable like breast cancer,” says Latte Woman. “It’s one of those bonding experiences, like combat or pregnancy. ”

Critical judgment took a vacation the summer I had breast cancer. Hallmark greeting card messages made me cry. Elevator music soothed my spirits, as did the color pink and Martha Stewart Lifestyle Magazine.

For once I was Every Woman.  Not my old weird self, in other words.

Hillary Clinton is no more Every Woman than Michelle Obama. Both are top of the competitive heap, with their Ivy League degrees and Mega Earning power.

I admire them both but can’t relate to them.  I was a C student and bad at sports.   Anyone I can relate to has no business running for President and should pursue a more honorable calling, like Stand-up Comedy.  I wanted to be Aunty Mame and work for Mad Magazine when I grew up.Still do.

odalisque pepto bismalFive o’clock! The clink of ice cubes.

Posted in Banality of Evil, Blues, Existentialism, Feminism, Hillary Clinton, Humor, Politics, Politics 2016, women | 2 Comments

Cassandra on Prozac Blues

Memphis Earlene’s  drinking  White Russians this afternoon on the Virtual Veranda while I sip Coke Zero.   THree hours and 25 minutes before I can switch to Wild Turkey, but who’s count…

Source: Cassandra on Prozac Blues

Posted in France | Leave a comment

Cassandra on Prozac Blues

Memphis Earlene’s  drinking  White Russians this afternoon on the Virtual Veranda while I sip Coke Zero.   THree hours and 25 minutes before I can switch to Wild Turkey, but who’s counting?

I’ve invited Latte Woman to join us on the Virtual Verandah because we are a-wash in mendacity, overwhelmed in fact.




“I think I’ll be able to get through the next few years ,” I say, “But it will take a heap of drugs and alcohol.”

“Go easy. You don’t want to lose the edge,” says Latte Woman, whose drug of choice is caffein.  She’s drinking a  Grande Triple Mocha from Starbucks, while keeping an eye out for language abuse. ‘

Alt-right’ is the latest example.

“Alt-Right” is one more for Latte Woman’s Banality of Evil file.

“Sounds almost harmless.  LIke maybe it might be a kinder, gentler, hipster  Right instead of  Neo-Nazis without the uniforms.”

Latte Woman is ready to rise to the challenge of  Dumpster Nation., even if I’m not.

“Nothing new under the sun,” says Memphis Earlene.

“It’s all new for me,” I tell her. “Fear and the expectation of living under a state of siege for the rest of my life.  Or maybe Stage 3 cancer….”

Shortness of breath.  A feeling of something squeezing the life out of me.  No escape.  First they came for the Muslims, or was it the immigrants?  I’ve studied too much history and have no faith in human nature. That veneer of civilization is awfully thin.

“Hush now,” says Memphis Earlene,  like she would to a child who’s afraid of the dark.”Boogie man ain’t gonna get you tonight.”




Posted in Banality of Evil, mental health, Politics 2016 | 1 Comment

Civil Rights in the Bathroom Blues

I dreamed I was trapped in a Women’s Bathroom at a rest stop on I-95 with Caitlyn Jenner.  We’re washing up at adjoining sinks, our faces reflected in the mirror. Bright and chatty, reveling …

Source: Civil Rights in the Bathroom Blues

Posted in France | 1 Comment

Civil Rights in the Bathroom Blues

I dreamed I was trapped in a Women’s Bathroom at a rest stop on I-95 with Caitlyn Jenner.  We’re washing up at adjoining sinks, our faces reflected in the mirror.

Bright and chatty, reveling in her still new identity, she wants to make girl talk.

“Those eyes of yours would pop with some mascara,”she tells me, not that I asked.

latte woman white cat

“Mascara smears up my glasses, ” I tell her.

“Girl, you need to get contacts. This very minute-”

” I have a perfectly reasonable phobia about touching my eyeballs,” I start to say but she’s inexorable.

“Girl, when was the last time you used moisturizer? Moisturizer. That’s the stuff you put on your face before the foundation. You’ve heard of foundation? “

With a regime of skincare that could take a mere hour or two a day, she says, I could turn back the clock.

Turning back the clock is exactly what scares me.

Back to the days when no one had civil rights except white guys who could afford lawyers? No thank you.Pig with lipstick  2

Every human being , not just heterosexual white guys with cash, is entitled to be treated with dignity in public places. If this means Caitlyn Jenner gets to use the same bathroom as I do, so be it.

As long as I don’t have to talk to her.

Posted in Blues, Civil Rights, Feminism, women | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

Donald Trump Blues

We’re in Mexico for the rest of the week, trying on the Ex-Pat lifestyle just in case Donald Trump wins the election.

Memphis Earlene feels right at home,  especially after dark, having discovered the Vampirito, a fearsome mix of tequila and mystery juice.

Margaritas, she tells me, are strictly for gringos. So is Montezuma’s revenge.

odalisque pepto bismal

Shouldn’t have had the cilantro.  Ditto the chopped cucumber.  Should have kept my mouth closed when I washed my face.  Ditto in the shower.

Feel like I’m fixing to die.  Find myself wondering, in a compassionate way, how Trump  covers his Male Pattern Baldness. Comb over or toupee?

“I don’t want to live in a place where you can’t drink the tap water,” I tell Memphis Earlene.

“That leaves out Flint Michigan, gringo.”

Also St. Joseph, Louisiana, anyplace near a Duke energy coal ash pond in North Carolina, Southwest Baltimore charter school drinking fountains.  All those lead pipes.  All that crumbling infrastructure

Paying for water you can use for brushing your teeth as the New Normal?

Why not be ahead of the curve?   In Mexico they  sell real Coca-Cola, the kind made with real sugar, not corn syrup. It’s sold in glass bottles.




Posted in France, Trump | 1 Comment

My Own Private Hillary Clinton Blues

At some point in Memphis Earlene’s  long bluesy life ( she’s an extremely old soul) she got schooled by somebody’s mother  or maybe a  retired English teacher,someone who raised children, hers and others, not to be trash.

“Trash are the people who don’t pick up after themselves ,” says Memphis Earlene. “They expect you to clean up the mess they make or else they just don’t care.”

“So  Donald Trump is just trash?”

“Iignorant trash,” says. Memphis Earlene. “ Big fat baby in a business suit. Stupid on purpose trash. Worst kind of trash.”

The whole Republican ticket is trash.  All of them since Eisenhower.

“What about the Clintons?”I ask.

“Plain old trash, the pair of them,” says Memphis Earlene. “Trash with a sweet tooth, both of them, not the worst kind,” she adds,not to sound overly judgmental, but I still take issue with the appraisal.

“ Trash is white people who live in trailer parks and seem to be having more fun than me, unless they’re killing each other or cooking meth.  Hillary  can’t be  trash.  She went to Wellesley. They both went to Harvard Law, or was it Yale?,”green heart

Memphis Earlene cracks up, laughing so hard that last swig on Southern Comfort spurts out her nose. Then she calls me an ignorant lunacy

“ But I like Hillary. She stands up to bullies. She’s bossy but she’s not mean. She’s friends with dorks and nerds. She’s running for Student Counsel President again, and this time she’ll win,” I find myself saying.

With enthusiasm, even.

“Still trash,” says Memphis Earlene. “All them Clintons expect you to pick up after them because you have no other choice.  It’s them or the playground bullies. Clintons’ll always take advantage of you, and then tell you it’s for a good cause, like World Peace or curing some disease in Africa. ”

“ Hillary Clinton wasn’t raised to be trash, she learned that at Harvard Law,” I tell Memphis Earlene.”Or maybe it was Yale.”

Hillary Clinton, just like me,  was raised to make her bed because the cleaning woman is coming . “But that’s the cleaning woman’s job,” one of Hillary’s Harvard  friends explained.

I know this for a fact because I used to work for the man. Hillary spoke at his memorial service.  (Correction: Hillary knew Marty from when she was at Wellesley and he was at Harvard as an undergrad.  He was the one who went to Harvard Law.  She and Bill went to Yale.  ) 

She told the story as an example of his wit, his charm. How he taught her,  a hick from the sticks,  some East Coast folkways.  You were supposed to laugh a little.

We were her people, a room full of attorneys and civil servants.

I was raised to make my bed and tidy up the room when the cleaning woman came because my mother did not want Flora Fletcher, who cleaned our house once every two weeks,to think she ( my mother, that is) raised us to be slobs. She also was diligent about paying into Flora Fletcher’s social security.

“All the candidates are trash,” Memphis Earlene says firmly.

“Not Bernie Sanders, who’s the only one who pays his interns. $10 an hour, he pays them.

I read that on Facebook so it must be true.

( see

Posted in Blues, France, Hillary Clinton, Politics, Politics 2016 | Tagged | 4 Comments