Anything posted here is purely for entertainment. Any resemblance to any individual is coincidental. Now, having said that, let's talk about me and my current relationship. The first thing that comes to mind, is a program I was watching on the Nature channel. There were some birds whose mating season it was. The female was courted by several males whose plumage was absolutely breathtaking. But, she didn't allow her breath, nor anything else, to be taken away merely by get-ups, I mean plumage. She engaged him in a dance to see how well he could dance. Sound familiar? Well, sorrowfully for him, they weren't dancing to the same rhythm. Sound familiar again? So instead of having herself dragged all over the branch by this. albeit beautiful but, rhythmless suitor, she moved on. Obviously, they were dancing to the beat of different drums!
All of this plumage and dancing inspired me, not only to go out dancing, but also to do a little research-see I do do something besides dance, contrary to popular belief-but it is hella fun! So in my quest to find the similarities between us and the rest of the animals, I found that our males, like other animal males, have ways of capturing us. And all this time I though I was capturing them.
Onward! Did you know that a group of peacocks is called a "party?" Well, I'll vouch for that! In the Wild, Wild West a group of peacocks is nothing less than a party. And of course, a pretty party. Just as in nature, in the Wild, Wild West, the peacocks are a social bunch. And that's not where the similarity between nature's peacocks and the peacocks (cowboys) of the Wild, Wild West ends. Nature's peacocks may have harems of females, they love and roam free. Sound familiar? The peacock has a crown or crest at the top of his head that gives him a royal appearance.
Well, I'll tell ya, the peacocks I know, with their cowboy hats atop their heads, fall nothing short of appearing like royalty as they're strutting around the dance floor-in hopes of building their harem no doubt. As you know, I've had a few peacocks of my own. The kind with the cowboy hats. My current peacock wears his crown or crest or cowboy hat, or whatever you wanna call it, low and tilted to one side. Chaparra sent me some info about the style in which a man wears his hat and what it means. It said that a man who wears his hat low, is looking for trouble. And a man who wears his hat tilted, is trying to attract women! I've got the double whammy! One night when my current peacock and I were talking about having glimpsed each other before first meeting, I finally confessed that although I didn't remember he face (remember, the tilted low hat), that I liked his clothes and the way he danced. His amazingly honest, and hilarious response was, "Bingo!" Must be the same exclamation that goes through the other male animals when their plumage and dances work!
Friday, January 22, 2010
The Odd Couples
Ever wonder how some couples get together? Of course, who hasn't? Well, let me just tell ya, it's no different in the Wild ,Wild West. Although some might want to place me in the category of "odd relationships," we're not talking about me right now, ok? We're gonna talk about everyone else! Let's start with one of my favorite couples, Mexican Ken and Malibu Barbie. Get the picture?
Well, Mexican Ken has the usual get-up on (hat, boots, belt, etc). Whatever it was about him that Malibu Barbie found attractive, worked. These love birds met, yes, at Club Malibu, one of the hottest Mexican dance clubs on the mule line (that would be the 14 Mission bus). Ken had been going there solo for some time. He'd dance with various women, I guess, hoping to meet Malibu Barbie. Well, as a miracle unfolding before my very eyes, one night a couple of (don't tell anyone) hoochie mama's walked in. At first I wasn't quite sure if they were real women or drag queens (sometimes the drag queens like to flutter around there and actually get lucky with some real drunk guys-ha, ha, ha. But, that's another story). In and out and round about the hoochie mama's went. Who caught whose eye, I can't really say. But there I was sittin' one night and in come Mexican Ken and Malibu Barbie. Ken, proudly (and not to mention stiffly and methodically-that's why he's named Ken, Mexican though he may be) parades Malibu Barbie around the dance floor. But they dance to selective songs, songs where he leads her and she (in her form fitting, mini dresses and hooker heels) follows him fraily. It's fabulous!! As the saying goes, "does life imitate art or does art imitate life?" More "imitations" to follow. Who knows, I might even include myself in that!
Well, Mexican Ken has the usual get-up on (hat, boots, belt, etc). Whatever it was about him that Malibu Barbie found attractive, worked. These love birds met, yes, at Club Malibu, one of the hottest Mexican dance clubs on the mule line (that would be the 14 Mission bus). Ken had been going there solo for some time. He'd dance with various women, I guess, hoping to meet Malibu Barbie. Well, as a miracle unfolding before my very eyes, one night a couple of (don't tell anyone) hoochie mama's walked in. At first I wasn't quite sure if they were real women or drag queens (sometimes the drag queens like to flutter around there and actually get lucky with some real drunk guys-ha, ha, ha. But, that's another story). In and out and round about the hoochie mama's went. Who caught whose eye, I can't really say. But there I was sittin' one night and in come Mexican Ken and Malibu Barbie. Ken, proudly (and not to mention stiffly and methodically-that's why he's named Ken, Mexican though he may be) parades Malibu Barbie around the dance floor. But they dance to selective songs, songs where he leads her and she (in her form fitting, mini dresses and hooker heels) follows him fraily. It's fabulous!! As the saying goes, "does life imitate art or does art imitate life?" More "imitations" to follow. Who knows, I might even include myself in that!
Saturday, February 28, 2009
The Early Days of the Wild, Wild West
Way back when, in the early days of the Wild,Wild West, almost before they had cars, we'd start our nights out at one of the infamous watering holes. This watering hole was infamous for it's authenticity of mixing the old with the new. The old being the Wild, Wild West of San Francisco of course. The new being the new of the Wild, Wild West of course. So what's new and what's old? The old is, first of all, the watering hole itself. It's decor was strictly old time "Mexican Bar." style. What does that mean? Oh, it means dark painted walls, x-mas lights, mariachi hats, the distinct scent of beer and tequila, and an old time juke box filled with old Mexican music (music to cry by and music to dance by). And this watering hole also provided a great big mounted deer head! Oh yeah, it also had a lot of old Mexicans-some worked there and some who were mistaken to work there. Not to mention, the mariachis. The new includes the new "Mexican." That would be us. Born and raised in San Francisco, but fully Mexican, for sure!
But, let's be real, the watering hole was also infamous for it's dynamite margaritas. You may have heard of them around town-big, strong and cheap. Yeah!!! Sounds good, ha? And good they were. In fact they were so good and so powerful that we (Chaparra, my sister and I) had to institute a 2 drink maximum! Really, my sister and I had the first experience which forced us into the 2 drink max. But, we'd frequently challenge it and have one more, which was usually purchased by one of our admirers.
Well, we came to a 2 drink maximum one night when my sister's car was stolen. After 3, or however many margaritas it was, we left the watering hole and walked towards the car. As we approached the corner where it was parked, we realized it wasn't there. "OMG, it's been stolen!" We contacted the police and, after arguing with them over which city (San Francisco or Daly City) should take the report, we went to sleep. The next morning we borrowed a car and returned to the scene of the crime, as if someone would steal it and return it to the same place. And guess what? There it was! They had returned it to the exact same place! Well, in actuality, we'd forgotten which corner we'd parked it on. There and then we instituted the 2 drink maximum! My sister and I decided that we'd never tell anyone the story. So,sssshhhh, don't say anything to anyone.
But, let's be real, the watering hole was also infamous for it's dynamite margaritas. You may have heard of them around town-big, strong and cheap. Yeah!!! Sounds good, ha? And good they were. In fact they were so good and so powerful that we (Chaparra, my sister and I) had to institute a 2 drink maximum! Really, my sister and I had the first experience which forced us into the 2 drink max. But, we'd frequently challenge it and have one more, which was usually purchased by one of our admirers.
Well, we came to a 2 drink maximum one night when my sister's car was stolen. After 3, or however many margaritas it was, we left the watering hole and walked towards the car. As we approached the corner where it was parked, we realized it wasn't there. "OMG, it's been stolen!" We contacted the police and, after arguing with them over which city (San Francisco or Daly City) should take the report, we went to sleep. The next morning we borrowed a car and returned to the scene of the crime, as if someone would steal it and return it to the same place. And guess what? There it was! They had returned it to the exact same place! Well, in actuality, we'd forgotten which corner we'd parked it on. There and then we instituted the 2 drink maximum! My sister and I decided that we'd never tell anyone the story. So,sssshhhh, don't say anything to anyone.
Monday, February 9, 2009
BOOTS AND THE SINGLE COWGIRL
Sad as it may be, break ups happen even in the Wild, Wild West. Ho-hum. What's a cowgirl to do when her cowboy's eyes roam? What's a cowgirl to do when her cowboy forgets how special she is? What's a cowgirl to do when she's single again. Well, let this cowgirl tell ya. What these cowboys fail to understand is that there are lots of other boots out there on the dance floor. Not only lots of other boots, but lots of other types of boots. Some are made of exotic skins like ostrich and alligator. Others are sleek and stylish. Some are shiny and formal. And still others are sturdy and rugged. And each type of boot has it's own appeal. So what's a single cowgirl to do? It's a tough time. It's tough because there are so many boot wearing men to choose from! WOW! It could take the poor cowgirl weeks and weeks of dancing with different types of boot wearing men to begin to narrow down the type or types she likes.
Let's see, do I like the shiny, formal boots with jeans and a starched white shirt? Or do I like the rugged ones with relaxed jeans and a corduroy jacket (the kind he'd wear in the mountains while riding a horse). Or do I like the sleek stylish boots worn by the sleek stylish dancer? Or are exotic skins what really turn me on? Who knows? Try a few of each and enjoy, enjoy, enjoy!!!!
Let's see, do I like the shiny, formal boots with jeans and a starched white shirt? Or do I like the rugged ones with relaxed jeans and a corduroy jacket (the kind he'd wear in the mountains while riding a horse). Or do I like the sleek stylish boots worn by the sleek stylish dancer? Or are exotic skins what really turn me on? Who knows? Try a few of each and enjoy, enjoy, enjoy!!!!
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Invisible Dancers and Floating Hats
When I say "Invisible Dancers" you might think I'm referring to "dancers who once were there," or one's ex dance partners or whatever type of ex. But, that's not what I'm referring to. To add clarity, my question is, "Why are the mirrors that line the dance floor at El Toro so damn high?" Now I know I'm out there dancing, but I'll be damn if I can see myself in the mirror. But I'll have you know that it's not just me, about half the dancers there can't be seen in the mirrors. And about another half can only be seen by the hats that float by. No head, just the hat! Even though they're several inches taller with their cowboy boot heels and cowboy hats, they're still invisible in the mirrors.
Those of you who have visited the Haunted Mansion in Disneyland might have an idea about what I'm talking about-mirrors and dancers floating around coming in and out of site. Come to think of it, that's not far from the truth. On halloween, El Toro decorates with skeletons hanging from the ceiling. At first you think, "Oh how nice. They decorated nicely for Halloween." Then as you begin to focus on the images, you see that they are couples in various sexual positions.
But getting back to the invisible dancers. One time Chaparra and Joey and El Jefe and I went to El Toro. We were 2 of 3 couples on the dance floor (it was a slow night, even though it was free). Well all 3 couples were out there dancing bumping into each other when I noticed you could see only 2 couples and a floating hat! "Oh my god," I thought, "Where am I? I know I'm out here dancing." I then realized that the mirrors were so high (about 5'6") that I couldn't be seen. "What is this?" I thought. Is this so that they can exceed the legal capacity. "No, we're not over capacity, officer. Look over there, pointing to the mirrors, "We're only half full."
Thank god that at the door, in addition to checking I.D.s and frisking down the men, they don't institute a Six Flags policy of passing a height restriction. "Step up to the notch on the wall over here boys, before we let you in." Only they'd have to do the restrictions in reverse. "Sorry, we've reached our capacity for those above this notch. If we let you in we'll be above our legal capacity when the officer looks in the mirrors to count the crowd." "But you're welcome to wait in line until someone over 5'6" leaves (which could be quite a wait). So then not only would they frisk them when they leave (for beer bottles being removed from the premises), but they'd have to back up against the notch again to be measured.
Well, I guess the moral of the story is, you may be short, but at least you can get in and either be an invisible dancer or simply a hat floating across the dance floor. It beats standing in line waiting for someone over 5'6" to leave!
Those of you who have visited the Haunted Mansion in Disneyland might have an idea about what I'm talking about-mirrors and dancers floating around coming in and out of site. Come to think of it, that's not far from the truth. On halloween, El Toro decorates with skeletons hanging from the ceiling. At first you think, "Oh how nice. They decorated nicely for Halloween." Then as you begin to focus on the images, you see that they are couples in various sexual positions.
But getting back to the invisible dancers. One time Chaparra and Joey and El Jefe and I went to El Toro. We were 2 of 3 couples on the dance floor (it was a slow night, even though it was free). Well all 3 couples were out there dancing bumping into each other when I noticed you could see only 2 couples and a floating hat! "Oh my god," I thought, "Where am I? I know I'm out here dancing." I then realized that the mirrors were so high (about 5'6") that I couldn't be seen. "What is this?" I thought. Is this so that they can exceed the legal capacity. "No, we're not over capacity, officer. Look over there, pointing to the mirrors, "We're only half full."
Thank god that at the door, in addition to checking I.D.s and frisking down the men, they don't institute a Six Flags policy of passing a height restriction. "Step up to the notch on the wall over here boys, before we let you in." Only they'd have to do the restrictions in reverse. "Sorry, we've reached our capacity for those above this notch. If we let you in we'll be above our legal capacity when the officer looks in the mirrors to count the crowd." "But you're welcome to wait in line until someone over 5'6" leaves (which could be quite a wait). So then not only would they frisk them when they leave (for beer bottles being removed from the premises), but they'd have to back up against the notch again to be measured.
Well, I guess the moral of the story is, you may be short, but at least you can get in and either be an invisible dancer or simply a hat floating across the dance floor. It beats standing in line waiting for someone over 5'6" to leave!
Friday, December 19, 2008
Damsel In Distress
The "Damsel in Distress" seems to be one of those situations men flock to. I don't know exactly what it is. Maybe it gives them the opportunity to feel like some kind of prince Valient coming to the rescue. But, come to the rescue they do. One night at one of the dance clubs, I saw my ex with a new woman. It was somewhat of a shock for two reasons: One, I hadn't seen him in months (which, by the way, was a good thing). Two, because the woman he was with was not a stranger to me. As a matter of fact, not only had she seen me and my ex together at that very club, but she'd frequently called me looking for her ex. But she doesn't know that I know it's her calling me. Anyway, there he was dancing with her and sittin' with her and the only reason I had an interest was because it was her. So, why should that bother me? Well, I know she's been with another cowboy who's shown lots of interest in me. I've seen her dancing with another of my exs, not that I have a lot of exs. And now she was with my present ex. Again, you might ask, "Well, so what?" So I'll tell you "what". She's not your best looking woman, your best dresser, or the happiest person you've ever seen. In other words, without being cruel, she's fat, kinda sloppy, and a controlling b----! So I began to worry that she and I were similar. I couldn't handle the thought and got angry.
So getting back to the "Damsel in Distress". I headed over to where Chaparra and Joey were sitting to say something bad about the b----, where I took a quick turn, which might have been close to the speed of light, and suddenly found myself with my feet flying up in the air and landing on my behind. It all happened so fast that I didn't know it happened until I looked up and saw all these men running to my rescue. Let me just say right now, the sight of these men can make you forget anything. I totally forgot how embarrassing this was and how stupid I must look and who might have seen me and how bad I hurt. All that went through my mind was, "Oh my god!! What a bunch of beautiful faces looking down at me!" Gorgeous smiles (aaaahhhhh), black hair, dark eyes, what a sight!!! White hats, black hats, belt buckles, boots. Some with their hats respectfully in their hands. Some reaching down for me. Some asking if I was alright. And all of them concerned and helping me. WOW!!! Who could ask for more?
Me, a "Damsel in Distress"! Delicate, helpless, in need of being rescued. And along came those virile heroes, not in shining armor, but heroes none-the-less. Although that's not an approach I admire, I can understand why those frail, weak, mousy women are continually approached by men. And, looking like they're frightened by the man's prowess, are so popular. And guess what, they even have their choice of men! But, that's ok, so do I, and I don't have to go around falling on my ass to get them!!! Although it did work really well!
So getting back to the "Damsel in Distress". I headed over to where Chaparra and Joey were sitting to say something bad about the b----, where I took a quick turn, which might have been close to the speed of light, and suddenly found myself with my feet flying up in the air and landing on my behind. It all happened so fast that I didn't know it happened until I looked up and saw all these men running to my rescue. Let me just say right now, the sight of these men can make you forget anything. I totally forgot how embarrassing this was and how stupid I must look and who might have seen me and how bad I hurt. All that went through my mind was, "Oh my god!! What a bunch of beautiful faces looking down at me!" Gorgeous smiles (aaaahhhhh), black hair, dark eyes, what a sight!!! White hats, black hats, belt buckles, boots. Some with their hats respectfully in their hands. Some reaching down for me. Some asking if I was alright. And all of them concerned and helping me. WOW!!! Who could ask for more?
Me, a "Damsel in Distress"! Delicate, helpless, in need of being rescued. And along came those virile heroes, not in shining armor, but heroes none-the-less. Although that's not an approach I admire, I can understand why those frail, weak, mousy women are continually approached by men. And, looking like they're frightened by the man's prowess, are so popular. And guess what, they even have their choice of men! But, that's ok, so do I, and I don't have to go around falling on my ass to get them!!! Although it did work really well!
Monday, December 8, 2008
Cowboy Hats
I've often wondered, haven't you, what it is about cowboy hats that are so alluring? Yesterday my sister and I went to a 49er game (they won by the way). And yes, I actually do more than go out dancing. We both decided, unknowingly, to wear our red cowboy hats. We attracted attention. Guys who otherwise wouldn't have, said hi and talked to us. As we walked around Candlestick, we received lots of smiling gazes too. "Wow," I said to my sister, "there's something about a cowboy hat that attracts people." "You should know," she responded. And yes, I should know. So here goes.
I'll just combine Friday night and Saturday night and the three, yes three (actually there were four), bars/clubs I went to. First of all, my escort, whom I'll call Omg, wears what Chaparra deemed a "taco hat". These hats, as you may or may not know, are from Durango, via Chicago, which, by the way, has a large Mexican population. I'd really like to visit there some day, but I'm digressing. The brim of the taco hat folds up dramatically on the sides close to the crown. It has an arrogant image. A cowboy who's prowess is stylishly displayed! And the way he wears it says even a little bit more about him. Of course the taco hat comes in black or white. Some cowboys swear by black and others by white. To me, and the other women I know, the color is inconsequential, it's what's under the hat that matters. Namely, the vaquero, and how he carries the hat.
From there the brims and crowns, not to mention the creases, come in all shapes, sizes, colors, as do the cowboys. The use of the hat depends on the vaqueros level of proficiency. One function is to draw attention. And that, it does quite well and in various ways. Just sitting on the head, as I've said, makes it's own statement. Tilt it to the side, wear it low over the brow, tilt it back, or just plain upright and he's already communicated to you a little about himself. Everyone has the images of the "youngin'" whose eager and full of energy, wearing his hat tilted back so that he can see and participate in everything around him. Everyone also has the image of the cool, tilted over one eye cowboy who saunters by attracting attention. Moving the hat also draws attention. Twirling it around on the dance floor, or tossing it into the air, or passing it around your body as well as merely adjusting it on your head, gives out signals of prowess and virility. Using it as a fan, as in fueling a fire, is also a good move for fueling fires on the dance floor. MMMMmmmmm! It certainly can make things hot out there, especially when the hats are twirling and fanning, with boot heels stomping and bodies gyrating. Why, we have a real vaquero hoedown goin' on! Try it sometime! It's intoxicating. I guarantee it.
I'll just combine Friday night and Saturday night and the three, yes three (actually there were four), bars/clubs I went to. First of all, my escort, whom I'll call Omg, wears what Chaparra deemed a "taco hat". These hats, as you may or may not know, are from Durango, via Chicago, which, by the way, has a large Mexican population. I'd really like to visit there some day, but I'm digressing. The brim of the taco hat folds up dramatically on the sides close to the crown. It has an arrogant image. A cowboy who's prowess is stylishly displayed! And the way he wears it says even a little bit more about him. Of course the taco hat comes in black or white. Some cowboys swear by black and others by white. To me, and the other women I know, the color is inconsequential, it's what's under the hat that matters. Namely, the vaquero, and how he carries the hat.
From there the brims and crowns, not to mention the creases, come in all shapes, sizes, colors, as do the cowboys. The use of the hat depends on the vaqueros level of proficiency. One function is to draw attention. And that, it does quite well and in various ways. Just sitting on the head, as I've said, makes it's own statement. Tilt it to the side, wear it low over the brow, tilt it back, or just plain upright and he's already communicated to you a little about himself. Everyone has the images of the "youngin'" whose eager and full of energy, wearing his hat tilted back so that he can see and participate in everything around him. Everyone also has the image of the cool, tilted over one eye cowboy who saunters by attracting attention. Moving the hat also draws attention. Twirling it around on the dance floor, or tossing it into the air, or passing it around your body as well as merely adjusting it on your head, gives out signals of prowess and virility. Using it as a fan, as in fueling a fire, is also a good move for fueling fires on the dance floor. MMMMmmmmm! It certainly can make things hot out there, especially when the hats are twirling and fanning, with boot heels stomping and bodies gyrating. Why, we have a real vaquero hoedown goin' on! Try it sometime! It's intoxicating. I guarantee it.
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