Black Panty Pundit 30 Minute Infomercial

"Did you ladies happen to catch Barack's 30 minute infomercial?" Black Panty Political Pundit asked into the hot tub air.
DL, PP and Bleached Blonde African American Woman all shook their heads, "Darn!" PP exclaimed. "I was at work!"
"Was it good?" DL asked as BBAAW sunk deeper into the hot tub's bubbly warmth.
"You know. It was. Very good. You know they said that he would have nothing new to say, but I didn't find this to be so."
"Really?" PP asked, intrigued. What else could he say at this point? Well, now, BPPP was gonna tell her. Thanks goodness for the YMCA Hot Tub Political Updates!

"Yes Ma'am. What he said he was gonna do was touch our Hearts."
"And did he?" DL asked.
"Yes. He did." She paused for a moment, near tears before continuing. "And you know how he did this?"
"No," DL encouraged.
"He talked about his father. And here's a detail that I never knew. Did you know that he only met his father once? And that was only for 30 days."
"Wow!" PP exclaimed. "I never knew that."

"Me neither. And what this did for him is shape him into the man he is today. Some people, they woulda gone another direction. But for Barack, it's what made him want to make that sacrifice. To be president. To give back. To sacrifice himself. His family and his children."

"That's what I like about him," BBAAW piped in. "He weren't given no Gift Package. He's like some of us who were raised in a single parent household...no Gift Package for us...no that's not the term...." She paused, frowning as she searched for the correct term.




"I like Gift Package," PP nodded. Indeed she did. She never got a Gift Package so this made her like Barack even more.
"No, I don't mean that. I mean...Trust Fund. That's it!" BBAAW exclaimed, pleased at retrieving the term.

"Oh..." PP laughed along with the rest of the women in the tub. Though she still liked Gift Package. It had a nice political ring to it. All those politicians and their Gift Packages! What's up with that? Why did they get all those packages filled with the 3 million dollar condos, Lear jets (is that still a gift item?), vacations to the Bahamas, expensive dinners out?

Why, it was good to know that Barack wasn't a part of the Gift Package Circuit!

"And you know what else?" BPPW stood up in the hot tub her gap in her front teeth distracting PP from her message just a little. "He said he could only make one promise. And we hear how politicians are always makin promises."
"You can say that again!" BBAAW harrumphed.

"Politicians are ALWAYS making promises!" BPPW repeated. "But Barack, he said he could only make one promise that he could keep and that was the promise to listen...." Here she paused dramatically, holding all the hot tub women's attention, “and to HEAR!" She pointed to her ears and nodded emphatically as they all tried to digest this distinction.

For it was. A distinction. Someone can hear, but they don't listen. Or someone can listen but they don't hear.

You'd think it was one and the same. But it's not.

Esp. when BPPW was pontificating. And all the women in the hot tub. Listened.
And heard.
About Barack.
About Promises.




But mostly about how one woman, in her black panties and her impassioned speech, can hold an audience rapt for her own 30 minute infomercial.

Swallowing

AAAHHHCHHOOOOOOOOOO!!!!”

The humongous sneeze rang out from the locker room, echoing hilariously into the hot tub where PP and two other women sat relaxing. Opening their eyes wide in astonishment, they all shared a look before breaking into giggles.

“Someone’s allergic to something!” PP joked, as a Jovial Asian woman sitting across from her nodded while the third woman in the tub, one that PP usually engaged in random chit chat, just turned back to her concentrated water jet massage action. For a moment, PP wondered what was up with her. But JAW engaged her before she could explore.
“My husband,” JAW began, “He sneeze very loud too!” she giggled.
“Does he have allergies?” PP asked.
She nodded, “Yes, but I sneeze too. When I sneeze.....” she covered her mouth with her sturdy brown hand, “I am not so loud.”
PP nodded. “Yeah, me neither. In fact, I try to stifle the sneeze.”




“Stifle yes....” She thought for a moment. “I think my husband. He have very different personality. He much more loud. But me. I’m quiet. I....” She searched for the word.... “I....swallow my sneeze...”


PP nodded, loving this idea of ‘swallowing’ one’s sneeze. Almost like it was some kind of nourishment that you couldn’t let out. You had to keep it inside you. Not let it escape.
“Yeah, me too...” PP agreed. “Though it might be better to let it out.”
“Let it out. Yes. They say that.” she repeated, nodding.
“Though I sometimes wonder what the good of letting it out is,” PP mused aloud, thinking how she really had to work at not letting things out. It just got her into trouble. It was better to keep things inside. Swallowed up. Even though the prevailing psychobabble wisdom instructed otherwise.
“Women. We must keep things inside. This is our way,” JAW continued. “But I am changing. I let more out. Wonder that I could be so wise when I was young!” she laughed.
“Yeah,” PP searched for that cliché about youth being wasted on the young, but couldn’t retrieve it in time.




“I have a friend. She live in L.A. She live in a BIG house. 6 rooms. Her children are all grown but they still come to visit and when they do she cook she clean she is exhausted.”
“I bet!”
“Yes. And so I tell her. You need to tell them. You will not cook for them. You will not clean for them. You must do for yourself.”
“But I bet that’s hard for her?” PP guessed, not having this experience herself of serving other people she didn’t really get it, but she heard a lot of women at the Y complain about this.



“Yes. It hard for her. Very hard.”
“Change is hard. I mean, old habits. They’re hard to change.”
”Old habits. Yes. That is true. But change is good. I changed!” She laughed proudly. “I no longer cook for my husband. He want to eat, he cook!”
PP laughed. “Good for you!”
“Yes. Good for me! And we moved from L.A. When I was in L.A. I couldn’t believe all the people. It so spread out. Where I live now. It’s so much smaller.”
”Where do you live?”
”Honolulu.”





”Oh! I love Honolulu!” PP exclaimed. “It’s my fantasy place to live.”
”It is so nice. Very warm. The water is very warm. The air....” JAW sniffed the chlorinated air of the hot tub room and wrinkled her nose. “It smells so good.”
“Like flowers!” PP exclaimed. She loved the air in Hawaii. What was it about the air? The warmth? The scent? (It did smell sweet like flowers)




“Yes. Like flowers.” She repeated. PP began to notice that she would repeat all of PP’s comments. This seemed like a typical ESL conversation tactic. One that worked for PP. She liked it when whomever she was talking to agreed with her!

Was this shallow and superficial of her? she wondered. Not wanting any discord in her conversations? Wasn’t her teaching life all about ‘critical thinking’ and exploring other points of view.
Yes.
And maybe this is why when PP was away from teaching, she just wanted to languish in agreeable waters. Not have the constant strife of always having to argue or justify her opinions.

Not that she had any opinions.

Well, unless you counted her ideas about swimming. Or writing. Or cats. Or politics. Or food. Or ice cream. Or....

“The air is so fresh!” JAW exclaimed, grinning as she moved to sit next to PP.
“Yes,” PP agreed. For it was true. Fresh air was in abundance. In Hawaii.

She only needed to get there and drink it in. Swallow it up. Let it nourish her.

When oh when will this happen? she thought to herself, suddenly feeling a little tickle in her nose. “Ahhhchooo!” she sneezed softly, but letting it out, not swallowing it.

JAW laughed. “You allergic too?”
“Yeah, maybe.”
JAW nodded, “Me too, to my husband!” she giggled, her eyes sparkling, as PP gulped in the chlorinated air nourished by the fertile womanly mirth.

The Best Lady Swimmer

“Did you know that you’re swimming with the Best Lady swimmer at the Y?”

Hemophiliac Swimmer is talking to Pleasant Hairy Man with whom PP is sharing a lane. Earlier, when she’d asked if she could share his lane, PHM had said, “Absolutely!” and he meant it.
Damn. PP never means it when someone asks if they can share her lane.

Yet now as HS bends down and nods toward PP who gives a tired chlorinated laugh, she thinks, no way is she the best ‘Lady Swimmer’ at the Y. Maybe the second best behind the marvelous M, but she’s not in the pool today so maybe HS is right.
For now.

Yet, PHM just nods, pleasantly, and then grins, “Yeah, I knew she was good cause she didn’t run into me!”




They all crack up. PP likes this definition of a ‘good swimmer’—-one who doesn’t crash. And so if this is the criteria, then yeah, she is the best Lady Swimmer at the Y! She never crashes into anyone.

Unless, of course, they’re cute.

Distracted and Distracting

“Where’ve you been?” M asked, as she followed PP from the pool to the hot tub. “I haven’t seen you in awhile.”
“Oh, I’ve been outta town,” PP sighed, thinking how she wished she still were at the Mary Anderson Center. Well, maybe this moment was okay since she was talking to the beauteous M! “Where’ve you been?” PP asked since she hadn’t seen M either since she’d been back from MAC.
“Oh, I’ve been DISTRACTED!” she giggled, as they both climbed into the tub, DL waiting on the side, her eyes big with delight at the two of them already engaged in a story.
“What’ve you been distracted by?” PP asked, always nosy.
“A MAN!”
“Ohhhhh!” PP and DL both exclaimed, even though PP wondered if DL mighta been a little disappointed cuz she hadn’t been distracted by a woman.
“Yeah….” M got a little shy, but not too much. She’s definitely one of those Extrovert Types. The shyness is just a ploy to ask more questions!
“Where’d you meet him?” PP asked.
“E-harmony…” Again, she said this softly, almost like she was embarrassed? But not too, cuz PP easily got her to keep talking!
“That’s cool,” PP nodded, having met Dashingly Handsome BF on Craiglist she thought the internet was a perfect place to meet someone distracting.
“Yeah, this time it worked out. It’s only been a week and half and we’ve already had 4 dates!”






“You are DISTRACTED!!” PP joked.
“Oh, yeah, but honestly, I gotta get here to the Pool at least 3 times a week, preferably 5 or 6 times.”
“Get him to come swimming with you!” PP’s answer to any dilemma. Swimming.
“Ummm…..yeah….maybe….I hadn’t thought of that……”
”But he might be too distracting?” PP asked.
M giggled, “Yeah, he might.”
DL sat perched on the hot tub’s side, grinning behind her wire rimmed glasses. She was the Cheshire Cat of Distraction!





“What’s he like?”
”HE LIKES SNOWBOARDING! YAHHOOO!” M exclaimed.
“Wow, that’s cool. You musta put that on your profile?”
’Yeah, but usually those profiles don’t work. The middle-aged guys, you know the 47 year olds, just love me.” M wrinkled her pretty nose. “I mean. I’m 31! And this guy is 27.”
”A younger man?” PP teased. “That’s fun.”
“Yeah it is. I mean, nothing against the old guys, but the young ones….well….” Again, she got shy. Or distracted. It was hard to tell. PP didn’t mention how 47 was a young guy to her. Maybe M thinks she’s younger than she really is?

PP likes this idea, so she lets the Old Guys just stew in their middle aged reputations of chasing after beautiful 31 year old snow boarding therapists! (Is PP giving out too many details about M? Okay, well, then just pretend that they’re made up!)


DL hasn’t said much that PP can remember. She was probably distracted by M’s beauteous self in the hot tub post swim sans swim suit.

PP knew she herself was!





And those Middle-aged guys? PP knows they’re distracted by M. Why, M gave up almost her entire swim this evening cuz some middle-aged guy, a well-preserved African American swimmer who always talks to M, kept M at the side of the pool chatting for 15 minutes before they both started to swim. “…..and it’s not that they don’t understand the language. They do, M!” he had exclaimed. “It’s just that they don’t understand the legalize and that’s not their fault….”

PP turned around in the pool, thinking poor M. How boring! But then M was smiling and laughing and lounging on the side of the pool seemingly engaged in the chat about legalize. Maybe Well Preserved AA Man was distracting too?

Evidently.

PP thinks that M is probably easily distracted. She’s that beautiful type that likes to be distracted.

And distracting.

She’s certainly that too, as PP and DL watch her climb out of the Hot Tub and head for the showers. “You guys have a good evening,” she called out, her long legs enticing, her swimmer’s back elegant and muscled.

Oh, we will, M, we will, PP thought as she nodded to DL to head for Utopia now that The Distraction was in the showers.

Roach Utopia?

“What that Nasty mess all over?” Utopia Assessment Woman wrinkled her nose at the white gummy whitish goo layering the cement floor of the sauna.

“They better clean up after theyselves or else….I hate to say this, but I saw a Roach in here the other day!” Roach Sighting Woman shuddered as PP and 82 year old Chinese Gram opened their ears in horror.

“Ummm…I am NOT surprised!” UAW nodded. “I seen these women. They bring their yogurt in here. They slather up in the yogurt and then…” She nodded at the nasty mess. PP thought this must be the Yogurt Aftermath. She had no idea that Roaches liked yogurt, but as she was to learn, they like everything.

“Not only yogurt. Mmmm.... they will even eat the GLUE in between the pages of a book!” RSW asserted, nodding in Roach Expertise.

“Yes, Ma’am. I seen a Document and it say that if there was a nuclear war, if everything on the planet was wiped out except for one thing, you know what that one thing would be?” UAW asked.




“Roaches?” PP ventured, wanting to leave Utopia now, not because of the roaches, but cause she was getting overheated and hungry. But with a roach story in the offing, she couldn’t tear herself away!
“Mmmmmm…” RSW agreed.
“They Prehistoric! They will survive everything and anything!” UEW proclaimed.

"That’s right. And you know. When they dead, they can still have babies?” RSW asked.
“Really?” PP asked in spite of herself. “How’s that?”
“They still have their little pouches and when the exterminators come, and they spray them, if they don’t come and sweep up the dead roaches all those babies will hatch outta the little pouches and you think you got rid of them. But they keep on.”
“That’s why they will outlive all of us!” PP exclaimed, completely grossed out by the little baby pouches. How disgusting.





After the baby pouch story, Chinese Gram got up, waddled out, grunting a muddled goodbye—-did she understand the conversation? PP thought probably not, but you can never tell. PP has always thought that the Chinese women in the locker room are not letting on how much they are getting. Maybe they just like to listen to the stories, too?

“And when I saw this roach the other night,” RSW continued, “I jumped up and screamed.”
”Of course!” PP commiserated. “I’d do the same thing.”
”Thank you! The woman who was in here with me, she didn’t see the roach and so when I screamed and pointed and then she couldn’t see it, she just patted me on the shoulder and said, “That’s OK. That’s okay.” Like I was crazy or something. But you know when I was little and we were visiting Hawaii my mom put me to bed and then all these roaches came out of the dark and were crawling all over my face and my body and I was screaming and screaming till finally my mom came in and turned on the light and they all ran away."


"They don’t like the light." UAW observed.

"No. they don’t."
“How old were you?”PP asked.
“Just a toddler. Maybe 1 or 1 and half.”
“Well, no wonder. I’m sure that you remember that Roach all over your body experience somewhere deep in you psyche and that’s why you have such a visceral reaction to them now."
“You said it!” RSW shuddered again. “I don’t like to do this, but I’m gonna report them to the health department.”
”Yeah, I think you should.” PP agreed. In theory at least. But then she got worried. What would be the ramifications of such a report? Would the Health Dept close Utopia? The Pool? The entire YMCA? This would be horrific! What would she do without Utopia at the very least and the pool at the very most?

Hopefully, RSW wouldn't get around to it. She seemed like more a talker rather than a doer.





“You know if you get a appliance like a refrigerator or a radio or a heater and you get it at like a estate sale or a garage sale or second hand somewheres what you need to do is leave it outside for at least 3 days and spray it good before you bring it in the house cuz those roaches can live inside a appliance for days and if you do spray, like I said before, you gotta make sure you sweep up all the dead ones cuz of those babies. Some places don’t do that." UAW nodded, with a loud mmmm....
“Clark is a good one. They come back and sweep up the dead ones.”
”Clark….” PP nodded. My she certainly was learning a lot about Roaches and their extermination. But again, since they were prehistoric and seemingly invincible unless you got Clark to come out and spray well then…



“It came right out from under where you’s sitting!” RSW pointed to the wooden bench where PP was relaxing, interrupting her Clark Musings. (Past tense. PP was not relaxing anymore, but bending down to look under the bench for the roach.)
"Yes.... Right there” RSW got up and knelt down, with a suitable amount of caution given her childhood Roach Trauma.
Fortunately, no Roach was spied on this afternoon, but PP is wary.

Should she forgo Utopia because of the Roaches? How could they survive in all the heat?



Yet, she can't live without Utopia! Besides, RSW could just be having a unconscious flashback to her childhood trauma surrounding her Roach Face Crawl-Over. So, she could just be having Roach PTSD! And they're really aren't any roaches at all!

So, until PP actually sees a roach herself, she's gonna keep going to Utopia. Cause even if they are there? What's a little roasted Roach gonna matter anyway? It's not like she's had any childhood trauma about roaches.

At least not that she can remember.....

Mary Anderson Center Pics

Dear Readers,

Here are the blurry (& small--sorry--use your expansive imaginations!) cell phone pics (thanks to Dashingly Handsome Boyfriend's Patience with the process!) of PP's residency in NO particular order--she's feeling organizationally challenged since her return.

So, enjoy!

The Ghost Story is coming!



The famous (or stupid!) NO Swimming in the Lake except with a Franciscan Friar sign!




Ghost Art in the bathroom. There's a good story here--more coming!



Bunny that PP rescued from the depths of the basement to come live in her airy room!




Ghost Art--PP needs to post this story. You want it, yes?



Green Chair where PP wrote her blog!



View from PP's room. Very inspiring!



Crooked pic of Lotus House--PP had had too much coffee!(& it was her first attempt at the cell phone pic apparatus!)



Prairie at dusk--PP got very lost!


Pretty pond at dusk--but watch out for the mosquitoes!




Maybe there's a turtle hiding in the black and white? Maybe...



Is there a little turtle hiding in this pic? see him? on the log? very shy....



View from the Big Barn--crazy artist worked in here who sculpted huge purple, green and red people outta fiberglass--PP wishes she had a pic of them!



View from PP's room.



PP tries to be flower arty--hard to do with a cell phone!



Can you spy the cicada person? (Neither can PP)



Is there a snake hiding in the black and white?



Angel of the Lake--PP dubbed her Lady Cora after Lady Glencora in Trollope's Eustace Diamonds



Better not throw any vermin in the lake unless it came out of the lake! But then how did it get out of the lake and back into the lake and then .....



The Angel of the Lake--She's PP's Protector!




Blurry Picture of LaFonna and Molly (PP hadn't had her coffee yet!)





Fall Red Leaf at the Snake Lake




Lovely woods round Snake Lake





Where the snake lives.....???? (suitably yucky for a snake, don't ya think?)

The Way You Wear Your Hat!

Back in Oaktown, and it is a culture shock, esp. at the YMCA.

Those Midwesterners in Corydon—oh so reserved. When PP tried to engage anyone in random chitchat in the locker room, she was met with a shyness that just isn’t found here in Oakland.

For instance: Corydon Locker room: PP’s getting dressed, she’s had a lovely private swim in the perfect pool with a lane to herself—-yet there’s a ‘crowd’ in the other half of the pool. A redneck couple doing handstands; the Big Butterfly Man swoopin thro the water in the lane next to her; a youngish middle-aged white woman (come to think of it, everyone at the Corydon Y is white), in her wire-rimmed glasses doin head outta the water breaststroke in the shallow end.

And this is the woman that PP meets later in the locker room, so of course, PP thinks, perfect, I’ll engage her in some after pool chit chat. “Did you have a good swim?” PP asks her. (Granted this is a banal opener, but PP didn’t want to scare her off) “Yes, Ma’am,” Wire Rimmed Glasses Woman answered quickly, making zero eye contact and then running off to the showers.

Okay.

And today? At the Oakland Y—oh no shy politeness here!

PP is getting dressed after her lovely swim (and yes, with the exception of a few laps shared with Dashingly Handsome BF, she had a lane to herself—very lovely—must be to welcome her back!), she’s had a much missed hot tub and sauna—no such luxuries in Corydon—do Midwesterners not need such heated relaxations? )So, PP is a bit spacey and slow and jetlagged getting dressed, when all of a sudden, a Boomin' BOLT thru the locker room explodes—BURP!!!!

PP starts to giggle before she turns to see a NOT embarrassed HUGE (sorry, but it’s true) waddling Purple Tie Dye Woman ambling down the aisle toward her.
“Whoops!” she exclaims and then belches again, except this time not so rumbling, “Musta been what I had for lunch. I had a POP and I usually don’t drink Pop, but it came free with the meal and so I thought what the hell, and ....” She belches one final time. “It was Root Beer...”





She grins. PP wonders if she’s revisiting the Root Beer, but doesn’t want to go there. So disgusting!

Instead she makes a joke, “That root beer has lots of bubbles. They can sneak up on you!”

Tie Dye Purple Woman grins, and nods, “Yup” and then breaks into song,
“The way you wear your hat....
The way you sip your tea
The memory of all That!
No, no,
You can’t take that away from me...






And PP thinks,
The way you burp your
Root Beer,
The way you
Gross me out
The way you
Burp again.
No no,
You can’t take
That away
From me

No, you can’t take
THAT
Awaaay,
From me!

Oh, Oakland,
We love you

And yes, PP is actually glad (at least at the Y) to be back!

Cicada Tree People and Farewell Mary Anderson!

“Did you hear about one of the artists that stayed here who wrapped up people with tape to make a cicada shell and then he sliced them open in the back and they stepped out and there was this giant tape shell left over and then he went around the grounds here and put them up in random trees. He really was into trees too, besides cicadas. He said how his whole life since he was 8 years old, he’s always climbed one tree every day. Anyway, because he liked climbing trees so much he went around and put these cicada people shells in the trees years ago. There’s some still here. I saw one today.”





LaFonna is on her 3rd glass of wine and the stories are rolling. PP is loving this ‘event’—an author reading, full of the politics and poetry and art of George Ella Lyon, who was marvelous.(Check her out--kids books: My Friend the Starfinder; life after death woo woo!: Don't You Remember? are just a few of her titles) Then after the reading, everyone’s back at the Lotus House drinking and eating and smoking and telling stories.

“No, I didn’t hear about this!” PP exclaims, delighted. “Where’s this person-sized cicada?”
LaFonna takes another hearty gulp of wine, “Down by the lake" (PP thinks of course it's by the lake!). You know that tree that’s right over that metal dockee thing?”
“I think so.”
“Well, if you’re like me you never look up.... I know I don’t. But for some reason this morning I looked up and there he was. Just clinging to the tree. This giant taped shell of a person wrapped around the trunk waaay up high. Freaked me out! But fortunately I knew about this artist and how he did this a few years back so when I saw this giant bug person, I knew what it was."

"Sounds like the Pod People. You know invasion of the cicada snatchers!” PP jokes.




“But actually, it would be quite a transformative experience,” George Ella interrupts seriously, “I mean to step out of your shell and then look back at what you once were.”






“A bug!” LaFonna laughs as she pours herself another glass of wine.

“I’m gonna go look for it tomorrow on my walk around the lake,” PP announces. And she does.

The next morning she heads to the specified tree and looks up and sure enough is the shell of tape in the form of a human being wrapped around the trunk of the tree. It was a bit creepy. But in a good way. The brown taped form had held up pretty well for who knows how many years. And it had a good view of the lake the way its head was poking between two limbs of the big tree trunk.

Wonder if the Cicada Person has seen the Monk Ghost? PP muses.

Wonder if cicadas believe in ghosts?

Wonder if cicadas swim in lakes?

See how much valuable wondering happens on an artist's retreat? Good thing PP is going home soon, or she may just wonder off into artist lala land.

Which actually, come to think of it, wouldn't be half bad!





Yes. And so this is PP's last post from the Mary Anderson Center for the Arts. She's very sad to leave here...but she's written so much and has had so many fun stories--and a great audience for her blog! (Thanks to all you readers for your comments and insights about swimming and ghosts and snakes and Jesus? Did anyone comment on Him?)

So, PP is sure that you all want to know if she swam in the lake today this being her last day. No, and yes.

No, not literally. She just never got up the courage to defy Brother Bob. After all, He can walk on water!

But yes, in her imagination, she defied the hell out of him. Stole into the lake one golden crystal clear morning, dove in and swam out to the center of its loveliness where a sweet turtle popped his little head up and said, "Howdy"! The water was warm and welcoming and snake free in her imagination.

And frankly, after being here for 3 weeks, her imagination is a much better place to be than reality.

Any day. Any lake. Any story.

Adieu Mary Anderson Center and Thank you!