Don'tBlameGrima's Open Salon Blog

My Sexiest Women

Sun, 23 Aug 2009 01:08:43 -0400

A few of our female OS bloggers have been whipping up photo-heavy lists of their sexiest men. I have enjoyed seeing these lists, due mainly to my remarkable physical resemblance to every man on them!

I decided to come up with a sexiest women list, but didn't want to bore you with a list of actresses and models. So...no actresses, no models, no pop singers. Certainly, most of the women on this list are fabulous in appearance, but there has to be something a little more to them.

OPEN SALON women are ineligible, lest they dominate the list.

POLITICS AND WORLD AFFAIRS:

Elizabeth Kucinich, she looks like this (I adore redheads) and she used to work at one of Mother Theresa's orphanages, then at The House of Lords, long before she ever met her famous husband.

Rachel Maddow. Absolutely adorable in appearance and with a beguiling sense of humor springing from a keen intellect and a very deep political knowledge base. Don't think I'd get anywhere on a date, but I would love to have dinner with her and stare at that angel face while she makes me smarter just for having met her. (PS--Like I'd get anywhere on a date with ANY of these women!)

Michelle Obama. Beauty, intelligence, class. And by the way, I love the Skippy Jon Jones books, too! I hear she's married, sigh.

Meghan McCain. I think we might fight a little--maybe a lot. But she is not without a brain, and she has gorgeous eyes and a disarming smile.

Entertainment:

Kathryn Bigelow. Director of The Hurt Locker and Point Break. A very beautiful, physically fit, extremely talented woman who likes to blow stuff up. What's not to love?

Diablo Cody. Bright, funny, gorgeous. I loved her screenplay for Juno (which I fell in love with when I saw it leaked online well before I saw the movie or saw photos of her.) I enjoy her columns in Entertainment Weekly even more. She makes me laugh.

Whitney Matheson. Blogger extraordinaire. She writes Pop Candy for USA Today. She loves cool music, comic books and is one of the most accessible moderately famous people you could hope for. And she's tremendously cute. The girlfriend you wish you had in college.

Athletes:

Kerri Walsh. Olympic Gold Medalist. Let's just say it: She looks fabulous in her short shorts. Her "Chase the Stars" foundation promotes health and well-being for children. She really lives up to her nickname, "Six Feet of Sunshine."

Gina Carano and Cris Cyborg These two beautiful athletes just headlined a top-notch Mixed Martial Arts card in which the more powerful Cris Cyborg won by TKO with one second left in the first round. No more drunks hassling me at the bars if I had one of these ladies for a date! Imagine all the cool stuff I could learn from them.

Danica Patrick. Before the Indy 500, she used to race in Beloit, Wisconsin. Closest I'll probably ever get to one of these ladies! With Danica, I could let her drive without it offending my manly sensibilities. (Except for the high-pitched screaming I would make in banked curves!)

Writers:

Jane Austen makes chaste love seem sexy, but I've always believed she would have been a great lover herself. Smart is sexy; honest is sexy; funny is sexy. Jane Austen is sexy.

JK Rowling. She has many of the same qualities of Austen in that she is smart, funny and honest. All of that, combined with that lovely accent and her good looks make Jo Rowling even more desirable than her huge mounds of cash.

Alice Sebold. Author of The Lovely Bones, Alice Sebold is one of the few women ever to make me cry. She was born in Madison, Wisconsin...so, another close to home connection for me. If you haven't read Bones you really need to. Sebold is a voice for all those whose lives have been affected by violence. There is much more to her than her grim subject matter. Her characters have humor, compassion and desire.

So, those are just a few of the many women whose beauty lies far deeper than their gorgeous exteriors. And that is sexy.

READER SUGGESTIONS:

Sara Chayes writer, reporter

Words To My Racist Wingman

Tue, 18 Aug 2009 02:08:32 -0400

Not a poem. Just words.

I'm nobody's poet. Just somebody's friend.

We shared the best of times, Joker, you and me.

Moose and Dickie and Pickle ran with us too,

But my wingman and me more alike than they.

A shoulder, a heart. The fiercest friendship I've known.

Knuckles meant for me, intercepted by you.

Knuckles meant for you, intercepted by me.

Knuckles meant for you, thrown by me.

Knuckles meant for me, thrown by you.

But we always rolled together.

And we always ruled together.

In Partyland the jester wears the crown.

Subjects gathered to hear us riff

And riff we did on all things.

whatever got the laugh,

whatever drew the crowd,

whatever spread their legs. And spread they did.

We rapped funny, funny lines

some wrapped in racism, some wrapped in hate.

Made me die inside...everytime

But there they were--the EYES on us.

Admiring eyes of freshman minions,

knaves and cads that filled our beer.

And Mascara-lined eyes

that rolled all the while they laughed

Mascara-lined eyes that never left us.

And the maiden legs we spread, Joker.

They all said they wanted a man that made them laugh.

Sure, we sold our souls, but it was worth it

What price a tootsome wench and an ale?

Later....alone

I cried the tears of a clown

Tears for those who could never come to our kegger.

For those whose blood was used to write our words in the air

The words we used, "nigger," "bitch," "dyke," "fag,"

We knew the drill,

shock value kills this crowd.

But those words really kill, too.

Not that we ever MEANT anything.

No, no, no--all in fun.

I will not detail the pennace I gave myself.

I will not ask forgiveness for a misspent youth.

Who gives a flying fuck about my white guilt?

For a long time, I died inside. Just that.

So, Joker,

in the Swamp, then the Pit

we lived together

and I thought we died,

each alone as men do,

but together.

But I guess I was just dying alone.

Ten years after, twenty years after...

I saw him today at the reception

The same words, the same people's blood in the air.

But no manchild killing at a party

This time just killing.

You really hate. Still. Always.

And I hate you now.

I hate you for

every brown child I ever taught

the gay kids in my theatre program

the children you raise in a house of hate

every woman on Earth

myself.

I hate you with cold distance.

I hate you in my reflection.

And I love you fiercely.

Never talk to me again.

Down and Out in Open Salon

Sun, 16 Aug 2009 23:08:59 -0400

Author Cory Doctorow

I have recently been thinking about Cory Doctorow's wonderful futuristic book, Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom. It really reminds me of Open Salon.

In the Bitchun Society to which the main characters belong, people don't use cash but instead gain Whuffie points, basically points given you by people you've encountered. The more people approve of you and your behavior, the more Whuffie you accrue. In other words people who do kindnesses for others are rewarded with Whuffie for gratitude. People who are funny are given Whuffie for making people laugh. If you are smart... Committing a mean-spirited act will cost you Whuffie, if you're caught. Of course, there are those with plenty of Whuffie and not a drop of actual kindness or decency in them. High Whuffie count can give you leadership positions and other advantages associated with wealth today. The instantaneously updated count itself can become a form of behavior modification.

I don't want to go in a negative direction with this comparison to Open Salon. I am not accusing people of campaigning for Whuffie. It just shows what I have learned in recent weeks. We are moving toward a time when we all have an online self, capable of garnering friends and even enemies. We gain friends in favoriting others, rating their articles, commenting on their articles. In exchange, we are more likely to be read, rated and favorited. A cynical person could see it as game-playing and politicking, but it really is just our cyber-self moving into a new community and meeting people.

Our online self is an interesting entity, in turns a total fabrication or the maybe the truest picture of ourselves we have. In this forum, my cyber-self is very free to speak my mind and relate mistakes from my past. My flesh and blood self cannot always do that as a public school teacher in a very small town. So cyber-me is a little more open in many ways than real me is allowed to be. In both incarnations I'm genuinely friendly and have a tempered optimism about the world. If that gets me Whuffie points, okay. But in the cyber-world I am also a little more likely to express controversial viewpoints. I think that cuts both ways in the Whuffie count.

Anyway, having fun here, meeting good people here, expressing myself here. These are all good.

DOWN AND OUT IN THE MAGIC KINGDOM--by Cory Doctorow. You can read it in one evening.

But Where are the Flying Cars?

Fri, 14 Aug 2009 23:08:38 -0400

In the 1990's there was a brilliant commercial featuring Avery Brooks. In his distinctive baritone he spoke about his childhood dreams of the future. He then went on to speak of new technology products that had arisen, but in the end lamented, "But where are the flying cars?"

As I became a young adult in the mid-1980's, I began to have many visions (hopes) of what my generation might accomplish by the time I was forty. That time's three years past. And my visions were not quite as accurate as I'd hoped.

Gay Rights: I really believed that despite the attitudes around me at my small Catholic college, that the harmlessness of gay rights would soon prevail. I underestimated the nation's fear of the "other." I assumed that my broadening attitudes towards other's sexuality was just a normal part of growing up. Either it wasn't part of growing up or there are an awful lot of people who need to grow up. We lag far behind what I imagined.

Women's Sexual Freedom: I imagined that we weren't going to have another 20 years of the "double standard." It's still there in so many ways. Somehow, the evolution of and discussions of healthy attitudes towards the choices women make are still limited in audience and scope. My unscientific impression is this. There definitely is a segment of women from teens through the elderly who make healthy sexual choices. And a segment of the entire population that accept them. But there is still a very repressed and judgmental portion of our society that considers women who are sexually active before marriage to be "sluts" and "whores."

In addition, I see a very frightening trend amongst the young to be far more sexually reckless than they should be. It's popular to blame the media or the internet or pornography for this recklessness. I really believe that for many teens it is a powerful rebellion against the entrenched double standard. "If I have sex at all, I'm a whore? Fine then, I'm a whore!" Maybe I'm creating a straw man there, but I really think that the recklessness is a misguided attempt to gain sexual freedom.

The Environmental Movement: I did not foresee the anti-science sentiment that would derail the environmental movement. I sadly underestimated the ruthlessness of industry and the shortsightedness of our energy policies. Somehow, the sense of urgency was lost.

Medicine and Genetics: Some of the research that has happened has been exactly the type of thing I expected--but again, I failed to foresee the opposition to research that could save lives. I never saw science getting pitted against the Anti-Choice forces. It has coupled with the anti-environmental movement to drastically slow the implementation of some promising areas of research.

Computers and Communication: I saw computers as coming to be a force in places like schools, hospitals, libraries, factories...I never really thought the home technology industry would come on as fast as it has. The future beat me there.

I have more thoughts, but I have gone on long enough...until sometime in the future.

I Call the Tackle "Sweetheart"

Tue, 4 Aug 2009 23:08:49 -0400

I call the defensive tackle "sweetheart," and the tight end is "our girl."

I've coached seven years of HS football. A rare liberal in jockland, I remember several times standing up to entire coaching staffs--particularly at the Catholic school for which I coached--and defending girls' right to play. We never had girls trying out for our team, but a few schools in our little conference occasionally had girls on some teams. (None has yet started, but they did see the field in games.)

I've taken time away from the high school game in recent years to spend time with my sons--ages 6 and 8. My boys frequently wrestle against girls. Most in the sport of wrestling have become accustomed to seeing girls filling slots at lighter weights all the way up to the HS level. A girl we'd see during the season took second in state at 103 pounds as a high school senior.

My eight-year-old is now old enough for Pee Wee football. Obviously, I got roped into coaching. And I'm delighted to report that I now get to be one of those coaches who has a girl (two, actually) on the football field. The beauty of it for me is that the girls who play football with the boys on our squad are completely accepted by their teammates. They are neither handled like China dolls, nor are they in any way considered less "feminine" than other girls.

I rarely use names on the field. Everyone is "sport" or "champ" or "buddy-boy," whatever positive expression rolls out of my mouth. Our eight-year-old female d-tackle is as sunny a soul as I have ever known, and she normally ends up being "sweetheart." It makes for some odd sentences like, "Wrap him up and put him on his rump, Sweetheart" or "Sweetheart, you gotta drive his hind-end right into the backfield!" Our eleven-year-old female tight end is a dream of a player. Takes coaching very well. "Gets" the game. Can run like the wind and get open deep. She gets my top-shelf nickname, "Our Girl" or the ultimate, "Our Girl Here!" The most impressive HS players I've ever coached were always, "Our Boy." Now, I say things like "Our Girl Here just planted the outside linebacker!"

Now, knowing the size of famliy members et cetera, it's pretty unlikely that either of these girls will ever get to be much over 110-120 pounds before they graduate high school. Both will probably leave football behind once they are too old for the summer Pee Wee program and pursue the traditional girls' sports in the fall. (Regardless of gender, it's darned hard to make it in HS football when the players at your position are 50-200 pounds heavier than you are.)

But I truly believe that both of these girls (and the girls my sons wrestle) are going to learn that they can compete with the boys in the boys' own arena. And I think that the boys are learning that, too. Someone can be traditionally feminine in appearance and manner and still be tough as nails.