THIS JUST IN: Deb Moore is a Lesbian!

~ Deb ~ 4 Comments

Nothing like a small rant to get the blogging juices flowing again.

This past week the actor David Ogden Stiers publicly acknowledged that he is gay.  You will probably remember him as Charles Emerson Winchester, III, on M*A*S*H.  Stiers is 66 years old and has most recently found steady work doing voice acting in animated Disney films.  He alludes to the fact that some of the powers-that-be in Walt’s World didn’t think it would be prudent for an actor in their “family-oriented” fare to be openly gay, and thus he remained closeted to protect his career.

This sudden flash of personal honesty (at about retirement age, ironically) was considered news this week, though it would certainly have been bigger news if a current, more visible celebrity offered it.  He will likely now become more visible in the gay community and might even be seen grand-marshaling a few gay pride parades in future years.   The fine folks at the Human Rights Campaign will probably figure out a reason to give him some kind of award, the best way to assure celebrity presence at the annual dinner.   In short, he’s just set himself up for a sort of mini-hero status in certain circles.

And I say, “Pshaw!”

There are millions of people across this country and the world who have lived open and honest lives of true integrity for years.   And no one has ever offered to put them on the cover of a magazine for it.   These are people who risked family, friendships, jobs, and social standing for one simple reason . . . they chose to live honestly.

I feel sorry for David Ogden Stiers.  To wait until 66 to be true to yourself would not be much of a way to go in my book.   I don’t believe what he did was “wrong.”  He did what he had to do.  I don’t pass judgement on people who feel they must remain closeted.  They have their reasons.  But, I don’t necessarily celebrate them when they finally figure out that there is life outside the closet, like some sort of gay prodigal son.

The bottom line is, it’s only news when a celebrity does it.  But, darlin’, he ain’t no pioneer.

Boyle-O-Rama

~ Deb ~ 1 Comment

If you don’t yet know who Susan Boyle is, crawl out from under your rock, go to Youtube, watch all seven minutes of her “Britain’s Got Talent” audition, then come back to this page and continue reading.   A dowdy, 47-year-old, never-been-kissed Scottish woman has turned the entertainment world on its ear and elicited a genuine grin from Simon Cowell.  I believe hell might have frozen over for a few minutes there as well.

Three years ago it was Paul Potts, the British cell phone salesman in need of dental work who opened his mouth on that same stage and made folks across England look twice at their tellies and inquire, “Luciano?”  And now we have Susan Boyle, a woman who could probably sell out a U.S. tour in a matter of moments right now, yet completely unknown just two weeks ago.

What shall we make of this?

Well, I have a theory (you knew it was coming, didn’t you).  Actually my theory is two-fold.  First, I think this phenomenon might have something to do with the aging baby-boomer generation.  Those of us in our late 40s, 50s, and 60s represent a mighty marketing demographic, and we’re just about wise enough now to appreciate true talent over superficial beauty.   Thirty years ago if a would-be celebrity couldn’t appeal to 17 year olds, they weren’t considered viable in commercial music.  Now?  Well, screw the whippersnappers.  Who needs ’em?  We might be stiff crawling out of bed in the mornings, but we can deliver up platinum album sales if we take a mind to.

The second part of my theory is a bit more esoteric.  I wonder if there might be an evolutionary step we’ve taken that has caused us to be more in tune with what is real.  I’m a creative person and value the creative process.  I’ve read “The Artist’s Way.”  But, there are some things you can’t create.  Susan Boyle’s moment in the spotlight was the artistic equivalent of lightening striking, and even the best director or producer would tell you that you just can’t create that.  Sometimes magic happens, whether on a movie set, under a Broadway proscenium arch, or on a talent show stage.  And that magic is when absolute authenticity shines from a pure place.

Susan Boyle might not look like a star, but she’s real.  And that true self she presents to the world is what we crave.  We don’t want to sing like Susan Boyle.  We want to have the courage to be as authentic.

Either that, or it all boils down to Boomers becoming as Youtube savvy as the whippersnappers.

Get Your Hands Off My Darjeeling

~ Deb ~ Leave a comment

Tomorrow I go to the post office to put a very large check into the mail made out to the IRS.  Meanwhile, a bunch of Republicans are staging “tea party” demonstrations across the nation for lower taxes.   (And isn’t their W-onder Boy the one who grossly increased the national debt, increased the size of government, put us into an endless war with a seemingly limitless price tag, and left us in our current economic shit-hole?)

Here are my three thoughts about this tea party:

1.  Why do you try to prove you’re more fiscally responsible by wasting a precious commodity?  The original tea party was to protest against taxes on tea by a government that offered the colonists no representation.  So, a) why don’t you bring your income or capital gains to dump tomorrow as those are the taxes you are protesting, and b) our votes are now our primary voices of protest, and more of those “voices” were (and still are) in support of the change President Obama brings.

2.  As an avid tea drinker and, dare I say, afficionado, tomorrow’s demonstration is practically akin to burning books to me.  I would almost approve your ignorance if your plan was to donate the tea brought to the demonstration to people who have lost their jobs . . . because of the economy W-onder Boy helped bring about.

3.  When I put that check in the mail tomorrow, with it will go the power of my intentions that my widow’s mite will go forth into the coffers of our government to do good work . . . help someone get a job rebuilding our roads or a child get healthcare.

And after I mail it, I think I’ll go home and have a cup of tea.

Gaia Knocks

~ Deb ~ Leave a comment

Gaia knocks at the window.

I sit at my desk and stare into a screen of

chicken scratch letters on a snowy field. 

The keys feel like river pebbles rubbed smooth from eons of erosion. 

Beside me is a maple bowl turned by a local craftsman which holds my crystals —

Tree agate, Bloodstone, Selenite, Snowflake Obsidian,

Labradorite, Carnelian, Sodalite —

the vibrations of a million years of terrestrial pressure collecting dust while I

focus on work that will be forgotten tomorrow. 

I rub my hand across the laminated desk top and yearn for wood. 

I will get no splinters tonight. 

I have not seen the moon and could not tell you if it is

full or new, waxing or waning. 

Knowing that would have been the work of my ancestors,

those noble souls who built Stonehenge

and sang songs to Brighid

and marked their bodies with triple spirals

to honor maiden, mother, crone.

 

I sit at my desk, my back to the window,

and click-clack the chicken scratch.

Gaia knocks with a ping on the glass.

I respond without looking,

“We need the rain.”