QUEENS AND QUESTIONS

By Crystal Laramore and Deborah K. Martin


People are always asking me how I come up with stuff to write about week after week after week. Are you kidding me? I can barely contain myself sometimes. Especially in the cultural and political climate today!

My thoughts at this moment are:

I am outside on my patio piddling (a Texas word) around and listening to all the controversy surrounding a beauty queen, another kind of queen and a question. Last week the Miss USA beauty pageant was held as usual but the outcome was anything but normal. By the time it was over all hell had broken loose in the media over one question and its answer. What was the question? “Do you believe in gay marriage?”

Believe it or not this question does not have a right or wrong answer like “Is 2+2=4?” There are still quite a few subjects we have a perfect right to disagree on without fear of being criticized, ostracized or blacklisted. Aren’t there? Do we have to water down all our opinions these days for fear of offending someone out there???

The smarmy weasel who asked the question was none other than Perez Hilton, a BLOGGER, for Pete’s sake. His name isn’t even Hilton, its Mario Armando Lavandeira, Jr. Exactly what ARE his credentials for judging beauty pageants anyway? He asked a question whose answer he almost certainly already knew. The fact that Miss California is a conservative Christian was well known and he HAD to know this would stir up controversy but he asked it anyway. The little twerp didn’t really want to know what she thought. This was ALL about HIM, and his political agenda.

My gay friend Marty Morales said this: “Perez Hilton did not speak for the whole gay community when he verbally attacked Miss California. Miss California spoke her mind. Is there something wrong with that? Whatever happened to just being you? Good for Miss California for being herself, regardless if I agreed or disagreed with her answer.” Thanks, Marty. Your tolerance is showing, as well as your integrity.

Miss California valued her integrity and her faith more than she valued a crown and a title. Her reply was her opinion based on principles she believes in and frankly a lot of other Americans do as well. No offense to anyone, but marriage HAS a definition. In my New Webster’s Dictionary and Thesaurus marriage is defined thusly: mar-riage n. the institution under which a man and a woman become legally united on a permanent basis.

Now, being that it is 2009 and we are as tolerant as we are I did NOT find that definition on my Microsoft Word dictionary…hmmmm. Seems the definition has changed to “a legal relationship between spouses”. My favorite definition was number 2. specific marriage relationship: a married relationship between two people, or a somebody’s relationship with his or her spouse.

From where I sit high upon my writer’s pedestal I have a few things to say about this:

First of all if you are gay, straight or crooked, I don’t care. There are many gay people, male and female alike, in my circle of influence from family members to customers to great friends; NONE of whom care, or seem to care, what term is given to the union with their partner. So what is all the fuss about on the news and in congress and on the internet? Well, it’s just like anything, there are those on the fringes of all cultures, in all sectors of society, that just cannot relax and let folks be. They scream that they want us to be tolerant but that happens to be the last thing they are. Tolerant, I mean.

But here’s this guy on Utube calling Miss California a cu*t! Are you kidding me? And you wonder why our tolerance is dwindling away. Or do you really?

Once again, marriage has a definition. Let it go. Get another definition for a union between two people who happen to be of the same sex. WE DON”T CARE!!!! Most of us love you no matter what race, religion or sex you happen to be. And, as far as your sexual preferences we straight people really don’t care. Most of us. Again, there are some on the fringes…but don’t worry about the fringes. If you please them on one issue, there will always be another issue for them to gripe about.

You know, I've had a question for gay/lesbian folks for some time. Perhaps some of our readers are of the gay/lesbian persuasion and can enlighten me. Why is it that militant gay people seem to be so defined by their sexuality? I'm straight and no one cares about my sex life. Why should I care about yours? Aren't we ALL more than that part of our lives which takes up so little actual time? I'm just curious.

Back to other issues; I can see a legitimate issue for gay couples. When my gay friend Marty had surgery, the hospital staff didn’t want his partner, Shaun Carter, to come back to support him while he was waiting. Why? He wasn’t “family”. Actually, this can be an issue for straight couples sometimes. Sandra Bullock was asked why she married Jesse James and her answer was a light bulb moment for me. He had a motorcycle accident and as he was being put into the ambulance she realized just how powerless she was. Here they were, partners for life, but she had no legal rights whatsoever in determining his care, simply because they were not legally married.

That’s the complaint I hear from gay and lesbian friends and I have to agree. We can call the institution something else if we want to. We can disagree on whether it’s “right” to be gay. We can disagree on whether people were born that way or “made” gay at some point. Meanwhile, many people make a lifetime commitment without the ability to make life and death decisions for and with the person who means more to them than anyone else. Is that fair?

There are people of integrity on both sides of this issue and then there are others who use their status as a bludgeon against those who disagree. Seems like my friends Sean & Marty and Miss California have a lot in common even though they are on opposite sides of this issue. She stated that her answer was her opinion and though she didn’t wish to offend anyone and wasn’t angry with anyone, she had to be true to herself. Marty confirmed that he believed in her right to her opinion (and maybe even the crown?) even if he didn’t agree. He didn’t withhold approval of her just because he disagreed with her.

And in the end it doesn’t matter of Perez Hilton is gay or straight. He’s a sleazy opportunist and don’t we have those in every sector of society? Doesn’t sleaze cross all sectors of society? Likewise, don’t we have courageous role models who are male, female, gay, straight, black, white, Christian, Muslim, atheist? I haven’t always held a high opinion of beauty queens but this year I’m glad one had the poise and courage to speak up for what she believed in. We should all try to follow her example; gay, straight OR crooked!

Dear Whoever’s Still Listening…Need Big Ass Shiraz…Stat…

Monday, 17 November 2008

Sex in the Woods

by Crystal Laramore


Dear Whoever’s Still Listening…Need Big Ass Shiraz…Stat…

“We’re not over. I love you with all my heart”. I keep hearing the words. The words keep me up at night. But the action (or lack there of), doesn’t back up the words. And that wakes me in the middle of the night. It’s been over a week since he’s called. Three weeks between that phone call and the last. Here’s your sign. The whispered words are fainter with each passing day. Silly girl, tricks are for rabbits.

Anyhoo, my mojo is coming back! Well, my coffee mojo anyway. There for a few weeks I just couldn’t get it right. Every morning I make myself (cuz I can’t afford staff on days the restaurant is closed) a café latte and froth the milk and lately the frothing part of my daily ritual has been off a bit. Well, it’s been flat, actually. No froth. Do you know how devastating no froth in a café latte is? Especially to an already unbalanced individual.

But one day last week I made the perfect cup of coffee, froth and all! The next thought had no real place in my pattern of thoughts…wait, have I had a pattern lately? Yes. Scattered. So, actually the next thought fit right in. It was about a cat my sister hijacked. She didn’t really kidnap it as she does let it go outside but she has definitely hijacked it.

My little sister was going through a divorce and doing the whole “why doesn’t he love me” drama dance, like we doooooo, and she was praying to God to get her mojo back. About that time a black, male cat showed up on her front porch, walked right in her cluttered “I’m newly divorced” condo and made himself right at home. She was a bit taken aback since she not only didn’t like cats, she didn’t like men. And a black cat? What more bad luck could she possibly withstand? Well, there was a collar and a name tag on the black, male cat. His ass was goin home! Until she read the name tag. His name: Drum roll please: MOJO! Seriously. God really does do things to amuse himself. I can see him now sitting on his throne giggling to himself saying “Ya really gotta learn to be more specific people, otherwise…”

Since God was channeling himself through the black, male cat named Mojo, my sister decided she should probably, at the very least, provide food and shelter. Hopefully she never provides clothing. The hijacking part comes from the fact that she bought cat a diamond studded dual bowl set, is dishing up it’s favorite brand of caviar and serving it Evian water. Would YOU go back home? God keeps looking around Heaven asking Peter “Where IS my son”? Wonder where he got off to this week.

Anyway, back to me: I now know why people get together during a time of pain and suffering. When we are hurting we want someone to console us and when it can’t be the one delivering the P&S (pain & suffering) sometimes we turn to who is available/willing. Ooooooh, I just thought of another song to replace the silly love songs: “So if you can’t beeeeeee with the one you love honey, love the one you’re with”. Oh, I digress. My bad. I have a good friend who I do not want to date for reasons far beyond the fact that he is a great man. And being the great man he is, when I called, when I needed him, he came running; even though I was drunk-texting him; even though he knew who I really wanted. Yes, he came over – Even Though - and just held me. Excuse me, I’m getting teary-eyed and need a break. I just put on make-up and hate to waste good product…

…ok, I’m back. Whew. The sadness comes in waves. So, my friend didn’t even have a clue that Richard had put me on hold. I told ya’ll already that I hadn’t let on to my friends and letting go is such a quiet sound. My friend was totally shocked as he has met Richard and thought it was a match made in heaven. Yeah, me too. That’s the funny (gotta laugh or I’ll cry again and again) thing - it is a match made in Heaven. My friend wondered why I hadn’t called him before now. I told it him it wouldn’t have done any good cuz he wouldn’t have been able to understand me. The ugly cry doesn’t lend itself to comprehensible verbiage. He may have understood sign language; maybe we could have played charades: Woman in midst of ugly cry, making loud duck(like) call sounds with nose, coupons for Kleenex with lotion surrounding her, arm reaching toward bottle of Big Ass Shiraz holding empty wine glass…No last night was the perfect time. I was able to clearly state my case and not cry. Oh, I got teary-eyed, but not one tear rolled down my cheek. Moving right along. Isn’t it sad?

Anyway, my friend held me and we talked about the evening at the restaurant. I told him about my new musician and how he had invited someone here to meet me. The man’s name was Richard. My friend said “Hmm. You certainly don’t want to start dating someone with the same name as the one you’re trying to get over”. Wow! I hadn’t even put two and twelve together! So there I was being introduced to another Richard and never even thought of my Richard! Ha! How do ya like that? It’s about time! (And no, I do not want to date anyone else. What I want however seems not to be the issue. But, what I am doing is waiting and hoping and venting.) My friend and I decided I was on the road to recovery! And then, I made another perfect café latte this morning! Fluffy froth and all!

And, I took a shower. I didn’t cry and I didn’t draw hearts with his name in the center. What I did do was discover that if you are really interested in your hygiene there is a lot to do in there! It just takes focus. No time for crying when you are actually shaving your legs, washing AND conditioning your hair, scrubbing the dead skin (there’s a metaphor if you think for a split-second…) off your feet and just generally cleaning your body. I’m not sure I’ve been remembering all of those steps lately. I’ve had other stuff to do in there. Like draw hearts and write “I love Richard” in the fog and cry and beat the wall and scream at the water; then erase the hearts and love notes and step out of the therapy shower without falling down. I fell down once about eight years ago and the only thing I keep thinking through this heart-wrenching betrayal I’m feeling is that I can’t fall down again. I can get weak, I can cry but, I. Can’t. Fall. Down. Must. Not. Fall. Down.

A Man's Point of View

Sex in the Woods

by Crystal Laramore


So, some of you out there are actually reading my new column! Cheers!

One of my faithful readers, Joe from Conroe, had some comments regarding the first article:

“From a man's point of view, this article was giving away secrets that everybody knows (if that makes any sense). It kind of portrayed men as mindless predators, which for the most part is true; true for all men at one time or another. There is definitely a deeply suppressed desire to impregnate as many women as possible. Any sex therapist will tell you that.

“So, secrets about women that everyone knows? You do actually have to listen to her once in awhile. No, not every word but enough to be able to ask her a question or two about the story she just told while you were missing the opening kickoff. A simple ‘How do you feel about that, honey’ or ‘That reminds me of the time we...’ will score brownie points like you've never seen. Another priceless move is to actually ask her about her day BEFORE she starts telling you about it! Precede that with how good she looks and you'll most likely be more than set up for bedtime. Now for the biggie: This is a little known secret even among men and I hate to give it away but here goes; Next time she's slaving over the stove or the washing machine FOR YOU, instead of slapping her on the butt or grabbing her bosom, try massaging her shoulders or running your hand up her neck and through her hair and whispering ‘Thank you.’

“Am I right, Crystal? I guess the readers will be the judge of that,
if any of this makes it in your column.”

Well Joe, it did make it in the column and now for fair & balanced reporting:

My first thought is no, Joe. You are not right. You are trying to pass along Tarzan’s error-proof recipe for sex (in the woods). So when my friends Richard and Richard were in the restaurant, I was discussing Joe’s comments and relaying the vibe I was getting. The message I thought Joe was sending was that these are “moves”, as he said. He also said there is no need to listen to EVERY word, just enough to getchaby. Joe also gave a roster of sentences engineered to score you brownie points. Although I thought all of this was good info I just didn’t like the packaging.

My friends Richard and Richard said they completely disagreed with my assessment of Joe’s comments. From the male point of view, they said, since the only times men aren’t thinking about sex is when they’re having it, any small bit of finesse from a man should count as the equivalent of Jesus and Mohammed sharing a glass of Manischevitz. Basically, if a man puts any more effort into his seduction of you other than just easing the La-Z-Boy back and yelling, “Hey, c’mere,” then he’s doing his honest best to be a kind and tender custodian of your womanly needs. This just goes to show that men and women really are from different planets!

So guys take Joe’s sage advice and ladies, do not get offended, and just enjoy the experience whenever he’s savvy enough to pay attention…

Cyber Dating

Sex in the Woods

by Crystal Laramore


Let’s talk about cyber space dating: Since we live in the woods it’s kind of hard finding someone to date; it’s not like being in a big city where single people are around every corner. It’s like being in the woods where everyone is married to someone you know!

So, I joined YAHOO!Personals for a test drive. Interesting. Out of 145 profiles they sent my way I was interested in 5. You 5 know who you are. Last week I said men should do the majority of the calling, but what about in cyber dating? Do women really want to give thier number to strangers? TOTAL strangers. Not only are they strangers, but some are not close to who they say they are. My friend Sophia got an email from Richard and his picture looked like an ad for Armani suits. Richard said he was a jewelry designer and originally from Italy and wrote in such poor English one minute and fluent the next…we decided something was amiss. When Sophia asked Richard for some more photos, like in casual settings or with friends and family, he closed communication.

Maybe there should be an exception about calling in this environment. I have given out my business telephone number twice. You can also block your number when you call. And, this is what I’d do at the very least; can someone say “background check”? Now, don’t go doing a background check on every person you meet in cyber space, but certainly on the ones you open communication with and certainly before it goes to the intimate stage.

Last week we discussed men and how they like challenges and things that are difficult. By that I meant difficult like in stick shifts,
When I say that men like difficult I don’t mean difficult women. My friend Richard said that there are a lot of physco women out there. Well, I wondered what he meant by physco and he explained that two dates does not a relationship make. And if he doesn’t call you-please, don’t call him, and call him, and call him, and call…

Don’t Google his address, drive by his house to see if he’s home or has someone else there. Don’t show up where you know he hangs out. Just let it go! Seriously, why would anyone want to be with someone who doesn’t want to be with them? Our lives are so much more harmonious when we are in symbiotic relationships.

Beautiful, insecure women are not attractive. An average, secure woman will beat her hands down every time. Move on ladies, there are plenty of men out there.

Spilling the beans: Ladies, give the new man in your life little peeks into your psyche, no need to do a total mind dump on him in the first ten minutes. Breathe! There is no need to tell him all your wonderful qualities in a 30 second commercial. You are not a candidate running for office. You are a prize trophy that he will hunt, in less than perfect conditions, to catch. You are not there to scream “pick me, vote for me”, you are there to show him, little by little, that you can keep him challenged for more than a nano-second.

How does all this come about? SLOWLY! But first ladies, you must set some guidelines for yourself and the relationship. Remember he’s the hunter, so let him do the hunting. This translates into he is the one to make the phone calls, he picks you up for dates, he plans the dates and did I mention he makes the phone calls? If ever you find yourself dialing his number decide whether you want him to be Mr. Right or Mr. Right Now. The woman walking down the isle did not do the hunting. That couple is symbolic of hunter and prey. And if she’s smart, he’ll still be hunting her long after the honeymoon.

I am the owner and executive chef of a successful restaurant. We serve gourmet food. I cannot remember the last time I cooked dinner for a man; unless I saw him at the restaurant on Thursday-Saturday evenings between 6&10 pm. Sometimes, I even instruct the staff to give them a check. The point is not that I’m desperate for cash, the point is that he needs to be desperate to show me he is worthy of a (free) meal that I have slaved over a hot stove in a hot kitchen to prepare or paid my staff to prepare, either way…

Women tend to show all their cards on the first round while men keep their cards close to the vest.

Cleopatra had a muse. She went to her muse to find out how to capture the attention of her prey (Cesar). The muse asked what kind of man he was. Cleopatra answered that he was a conqueror. The muse said simply, “Then always let him think there is more to conquer”!

If the natural order of things occurs; like women allowing men to hunt, the men will make the woman happy. Men enjoy pleasing women. I hear it all the time. Cuz when mama’s happy, everybody’s happy and when mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy!