The Reader Travels

My man writes the Web trends site on About.com, so he thinks a lot about search engine optimization and how to write articles that will draw people in from Google and Yahoo!. But, me, I just write, passively posting, and waiting patiently for people to pass by. Perhaps a little alliteration today, a rhyme tomorrow. I even took the ads off my Web site, so when people do arrive, they feel more at home.

When people search to find me, it’s pure serendipity, and I feel the kindred spirits are out there, friends unknown, searching and connecting on things like…

Blanche Dubois drag queen
unibrow is beautiful
giant badger in mythical northern europe
“aldous huxley” and “carey grant” lsd
famous syphilitics
biblical violence
The Wanting Seed

Whoever, wherever you are, welcome home.

I was trying to tie in the holiday with my road trip theme, but all I could think of was my favorite of the Vacation movies, none other than Christmas Vacation.  Now, I know what you’re thinking, unlike the original National Lampoon’s Vacation, this film was not a road trip movie. And I’ll admit, it’s quite a stretch for me to even talk about it here. But I don’t care.

The Griswold’s know the perils of the road, and the adventures along the way. And they know the perils of  that never-ending road of family interaction. Okay, I went too far, didn’t I?

Anyway, I’ll be taking a short stretch of road from one Dallas suburb to another, to spend Christmas with Mom and Dad, siblings, nieces, and at least one nephew. My folk-singing family was dubbed “The Partridge Family” by one ex-husband who didn’t make the cut, so we know there will be music, even if we’re not riding in a multi-colored school bus on the way to our next gig. Okay, there I go again.

So, happy winter solstice everyone, Merry Christmas and happy all-idays.

As I’ve already mentioned, I’ve been itching to go road tripping. But when I wrote the title of this entry, my mind went instantly to my maternal grandmother. Willy Nelson’s “On the Road Again” was one of her favorite songs, and we sang it for her on her 80th birthday. Her eyes lit up in recognition, though her words and mind have failed her for over a decade past.

There was always music in my mother’s house, in my grandmother’s house. Dad played uke and guitar, and Mom played piano. Uncle Sonny played saxophone in high school and now reigns as the Frank Sinatra karaoke king of Slidell, Louisiana.  Uncle Joey played guitar, and shared his love of music with his two boys. Uncle Jeff has followed in Joey’s footsteps, singing and playing guitar and writing his own songs, clinging harder to music as his sight fails him. 

My grandmother Nola loved Liberace, and she played on her organ with her Big Note Songbook in the late afternoons. But I wonder about her love for “On the Road Again.” I guess it’s just the music and the way it made her feel, more than the sentiment, for she rarely left the comfort of her home state. And perhaps now she can dream that she’s somewhere adventuring on the road instead of being trapped in her nursing home, taking only the brief journey from bed to day room and back again.

Before I end this tour of Shakespeare in the movies, I just have to give a shout out to Steve Martin and Woody Allen for their tributes to A Midsummer Night’s Dream. This play holds a special place in my heart, possibly because I’m a borderline hedonist with a special appreciation for Dionysus, the Greek god of partying. They call him the god of wine, but I think he’s also the god of psychedelic mushrooms. But that’s another story.

A Midsummer Night’s Sex Comedy is funny, like most of Woody Allen’s movies, but doesn’t stand out as one of his best.  L.A. Story, on the other hand, is one of my all-time favorites and proof that Steve Martin is friggin’ brilliant.

Anyway, it’s been fun, but it’s time to move on. I’ve been itching to take a long road trip.