Category: anniversary

Tripped and Fell into the Zeitgeist

I first posted this back in August 2009, but the front page story about the 60th anniversary of the photo “American Girl in Italy” seems to have people stumbling across my old blog. The visit numbers are pretty high today.

So, for fun, I decided to reblog the old post.

This post doesn’t feature the same photo, but it’s along the same lines.

And away we go:

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Hanging in the ladies room at a restaurant where The Good Man and I eat quite a bit is the below:

It is “Gli Italiani si Voltano – Milano – 1954” by Mario de Biasi.

The title means, according to BabelFish, “The Italians turn themselves”.

Here’s the poster (click for a large version)

I am utterly fascinated by this photograph. I first started looking at it closer, because my best friend and I are talking about a girl’s trip to Italy next year.

We’ve all heard the stories, right? Is this what Italy is all about?

I have no idea the story behind this photograph, but along with being totally can’t-take-my-eyes-off it intrigued, it also scares the hell out of me.

It’s so…visceral. The look on the faces of all the men… You are pretty sure you know what they are thinking. And she, dressed in white, little Red Riding Hood plunges, fearlessly, into the pit of wolves.

The guy to her left, with his bottom lip tucked into his teeth TOTALLY thinks he’s got a chance. I mean, that dude is pretty sure he’s going to score. Which makes me hate him.

The guy to her right on the scooter looks skeptical. Perplexed. Dare I say, scholarly? For that reason, he’s the one I’m into. I’d choose him.

I have no idea who the woman is or what she looks like from the front, but my god, that kind of male attention is both craved and rejected by women.

How can she be so confident walking into that? Does she possess the certainty of a truly beautiful woman? Is she actually terrified but hides it well? Is she an Italian woman and thus used to ignoring this kind of stuff?

It conflicts me. I’m not a feminist. It doesn’t make me angry like “she deserves more respect!”

But I’m also not an old fashioned gal either of the “boys will be boys” fey sort of excuse making.

I can’t quite cipher out what it is that gets to me about this photograph. But oh, it gets to me.


Happy Anniversary!

One hundred and five years ago today, San Francisco suffered a devastating earthquake.

What the quake didn’t destroy, the subsequent fires did.

Each year, people gather at Lotta’s Fountain at 5:12am to remember.

I guess Mother Earth decided to add her own fireworks to the remembrance:



It came on with a loud thump, it almost felt like a truck ran into the house. The Good Man shouted “doorframe, honey!” and I found one quick.

Once it was over, with hands shaking and heart thumping, I recalled the video I saw of the recent earthquake in Japan where it just kept going and going. I can’t even begin to imagine. The few seconds duration I just experienced seemed almost intolerable.

All are well in the house of The Good Man. The Feline slept through it. The fish are non-plussed. The boy hardly flinched. The girl is a little on edge, but will get through it.


Happy Birthday to The Hag

Today, April 6th, country king Merle Haggard turns an amazing 74 years old.

I’d just like to give The Hag a hearty Feliz Cumpleaños and and big shout out for another year of amazing music.

Because this:





Plus this:





Equals some real, real nice memories.

Thank you for being such an integral part of my life, Hag.

And cheers to your next trip around the sun.




Special shout out to my twitter buddy, local radio guy @Pcon34 for playing “Fightin’ Side of Me” on the early morning show. Saaaalute!


And We Haven’t Piped Down Since

Today, August 18, 2010, marks ninety years since the 19th Amendment to the United States Constitution was ratified.

In case you are a little shy on your constitutional amendments, here is some of the actual text:

“The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of sex.”

That right. On August 19, 1920, women got the right to vote.

It took Tennessee’s legislature to pass the proposed amendment by one little vote for (the 36th state to ratify) to cause the 19th Amendment to become a part of the United States Constitution.

(I’m pleased to note that California was 18th and New Mexico was 32nd. Nice early adoption from my two home states.)

The 19th Amendment gave women a voice. An official voice.

This meant that a woman didn’t have to defer to a man to make her choices about how this country should be run.

My folks were married almost fifty years. My old man was an old fashioned guy. In their early years, he used to tell his wife how to vote. Many years later, my mom admitted to me that she’d go to the polls and vote the exact opposite way.

The 19th Amendment gave her that right!

Recently, over a family dinner, for no reason I could fathom, my eleven-year-old sister-in-law broke out and asked, “did you vote for Al Gore?”

I replied, “No, I didn’t vote for Al Gore. I also didn’t vote for George Bush. I think I voted for Ralph Nader that year. I believe it’s essential to cast a vote, even if it is a dissenting vote.”

I’m allowed to do that. You know why? The 19th Amendment to the Constitution!

Heck, I can cast my vote willy-nilly all over the place! And I don’t have to have a nilly ol’ willy to do so!

(This juncture is SO ripe for a “pull the lever” pun, but I’ll refrain.)

I’ve voted in every Presidential election since I turned eighteen and I’ve voted in most of the minor elections too.

This November, on behalf of my residency in the State of California and my Suffragette sisters from the past, I will cast a vote for some random person for Governor, because I sure as hell am not voting for either Jerry Brown or Meg Whitman.

But I’m gonna vote.

I’m making my voice heard for Susan B!

Watch me now, heh!

Ok. In case anybody asks…

I’m going to help make you the smartest margarita drinker in the bar.

So what, exactly is Cinco de Mayo?

Ok, so like a super long time ago (1860’s) there was this Mexican president named Benito Juarez…totally like that border town, you know?

Anyhow, Benito stopped making payments on debt owed to France.

And France was all like “Whoa man! No waaaay” and they *attacked* Mexico to get their money.

Then they totally thought they would also take over Mexico, and that would teach them a lesson and stuff.

But Mexico was all like “No way Jose!” and they fought back.

And in this one battle in the city of Puebla on May 5, 1862, the Mexican army totally kicked some French *ass* and there was much rejoicing.

And so we drink tequila and eat guacamole in memory of those valiant Mexican fighters!

Unfortunately…it didn’t really hold up the French for long and by a year later they occupied Mexico City.

Some French dude named Maximilian thought he was all kinds of hot sh*t. Whatever Max!

Then the U.S. was all like “stop acting like children! Take your toys and go home!”

So they did. And Benito Juarez got to be president again.

But anyhow, there was that one super huge battle in Puebla, against all odds, and so that’s why we all have to eat Mexican food and drink and stuff.

It’s super patriotic.

I swear!

Mostly.

Source: Wikipedia

2007 Cinco de Mayo parade, Calistoga, CA. Image by Karen Fayeth.