Le Saispas Vintage...Now LOCAL!

Get some of the best of the best of Le Saispas Vintage at Hoot + Louise--on G.E. Patterson just east of the world famous Arcade Restaurant.  I'm bringing in men's and women's clothing, jewelry, handbags, shoes and home decor from the '50's-early '90's.

Anna Avant is the proprietress & has curated a fab boutique of new and vintage clothing for men and women, home decor, jewelry and accessories.  There's truly nothing like it in Memphis--easily the most current (definition "non-embarrassingly garish or dated and/or fashionable right now--9/10/2011--outside of Memphis, TN") independent boutique in our city since the long-gone days of Chelsea Ltd, the old U.S. Male and Tallulah's.

Hoot + Louise will have a booth at Cooper-Young Fest next Saturday and Le Saispas Vintage will be righteously repped!  I'm currently collecting some baubles & gems for your perusal!

Its OK, Tigers.

Well, the Memphis Tigers hoops season has come to its rather depressing close with a loss to those Ole Miss bastards, in Oxford no less, at their crappy arena.  But I have a few positives I'd rather focus on regarding the 2009-10 Tiger season rather than all the bitching I've been doing on Twitter, the Goner Board and live in person for a year:

(1) Will Coleman.  When this guy said he was not giving up on Memphis like his fellow Miami-Dade bro, whatever-his-name is, who went to Kentucky with Cal, Orlando Antigua, Rod Strickland & the bulk of what was our (yes, OUR) recruiting class, I definitely shrugged it off.  I had no idea who he was and I also thought the decision likely lay more in Cal not wanting him more than him wanting Memphis.  That attitude is pretty typical of a native Memphian--i.e. "Mane, who'd care about us anyway. We suck.  Shelby County and Nashville think so, so it must be so.  Gimme a drink."

Little did I know that this guy would end up to be my new favorite Tiger in many a year.  He went from literally being a completely embarrassing clod to playing teams 1-on-5 at the end of the season.  I made excuses for him for awhile ("Well, he just started playing in 11th grade, you know?") to my ecstatically spilling beer on my father at the Tulsa game screeching, "Are you watching this guy???? OH MY GAWD!" as he took the entire Tulsa Golden Hurricane on for at least 4 minutes by himself while who knows what the rest of the Tigers were up to.

I simply cannot wait to see him after a Spring and Summer of workouts get out there with our #1 recruits.  Pastner and Cyprien are geniuses. Which leads me to...

(2) Josh Pastner. Who would have thought?  I mean, really?  A 32-year-old non-drinking, non-cursing, Peter Brady-looking eternal optimist as the Head Coach of Memphis?  Being a total Tiger sucker, I didn't even blink when they named him head coach and simply ran to the internet and my husband to ask questions.  After reading piles of history and hearing my husband--a Tiger fan but above all a Michigan State Spartan, Tom Izzo-loving diehard fan from Lansing--wax seriously on about how Pastner was "perfect" for a litany of reasons, I had something to back up my sucker fan sunshiney self.  The only time I was concerned was earlier in the season when I saw that he was a little reticent courtside, but by the end of the season, he was as demonstrative as Cal, but without looking like a total jabrone about it.  The fact that he yells "Gosh Darnit!" is priceless and precious.  Plus suddenly the Tigers aren't embarrassing at the free throw line and shocker of shockers, can play DEFENSE.  Several versions at will, even.  Love you Josh.

(3) The 6th Man. Yes.  You.  Us. The Tiger Nation or whatever they're calling us now.  While Robin noted that she didn't see as many signs and flags as she used to, we came correct this year, people.  Selling out games like the one against LeMoyne-Owen etc etc and never giving up even when we seriously had some reasons to get very, very pissed.  We rule.

I hate saying "Next year!" but I'm gonna say it.

NEXT YEAR!

That girl's a Superfreak.

December 1983, Mid-South Coliseum, Rick James Street Songs tour, Memphis, TN.  Ed Slaughter always had money.  He always had tickets.  And he always asked me out.  Natch, I was in the "Just friends, RIGHT?" mode with the kid, but what a gent.  Funny, smart and a 40-year-old in a 14-year-old's body.  He was the pill fiend teenager before there was such a thing and I don't even really know if he actually used pills, but I thought he did, even then, when I had probably--by the time this picture was taken--had smoked marijuana about 10 times, MAYBE.

Anyway, this was a fabulous evening.   Rick and the Stone City Band tore it up and the Mary Jane Girls were real and hot where Vanity 6 were weird and hot (not the same show, just comparing/contrasting).  Rick pulled a screeching woman out of the audience that night and laid her down on a brass bed he had on stage, poured champagne on her and licked it off.  I don't think I even did drugs that night but well, you didn't have to be high to feel high watching that man!

I had my heart broken by My First True Love, Steven Pittman, about a month before this night and when I look at this photo now, I am so relieved to see a true smile on my face.  Ed,  you always showed  me a supremely good time.  And I'll always love you for it.  I hope you are alive and happy somewhere out there and I wish I'd run into you so we could go get drunk together again and laugh it up.

Wildin' in Memphis

I probably shouldn't write about this right now because I'm still fluctuating between the emotions of "Disgusted", "Furious" and more recently, "Pity."  It started by my normal first check of the day of Twitter.  Last night a poster I follow (for some reason--it isn't the first time I have wondered exactly what the hell I could possibly care to hear from her as she appears perpetually shallow and annoying), began petulantly posting complaints about a wild Halloween party near her home in Chickasaw Gardens.  I only discovered in a later post (see below) that this was the neighborhood she was referring to and I think that was the cause for my current feeling of "Disgusted Pity."

Chickasaw Gardens is a notoriously old Memphis money, upper middle class enclave bordered by the University of Memphis area, Orange Mound, the southern border of Binghampton and the debatable eastern border of Midtown.  There are beautiful Tudor-style homes, huge trees, winding streets and it was nicely nearly completely protected by a massive brick wall probably sometime in the 1980's, probably due to the encroachment of Blacks that weren't their maids, cooks or housemen of some kind.  Sure, it's a very nice and historic neighborhood, but it's gating of itself inside the city limits has always rubbed me quite the wrong way.

Anyway, apparently this Halloween party got way out of hand which really ticked this certain Memphis woman off to the point where she posted some things on Twitter that I would hope are troubling people who may know her in person, but perhaps not.  All I know is that she seems like exactly the sort of person I'd never want to meet for fear of kicking her off her Manolo's she probably got on sale somewhere.  Hideous, hideous shit.  Worse than that "Ghetto Trash" she felt so free to post all about on Twitter last night.  Apparently things have changed very little in Chickasaw Gardens.  Maybe they can build a moat stocked with sharks or something to protect them from the "Ghetto"?

Here's the dirt:

1st:  An explosion at the Pink Palace right now would be preferable. The city could use fewer ghetto thugs. It's days like this I hate Memphis.

2nd:  Some party with 1000s of people racing cars, blocking streets, and booming music for hours. Police can't seem to control it.

3rd:  Thx MPD for their minimal work of arresting the guys with the train horn in their car. O there it is again! Guess someone else brought 1.

4th:    From tweets by the ghetto trash on here, I see MPD has shut the Palace down. I also hear helicopters. Who's dumbass idea was this party?!

And last, but not in any way the least:  This is Chickasaw, this isn't Orange Mound and the Palace isn't the Plush Club. I dont want to see herds of ppl & blue lights all over.

Sweets, this world could use fewer racist ignoramuses like you.  It's days like this I hate the world. 

THROW DOWN!

Yep.  Roo's about to get her ass beat, but she never learns from history.

It has been raining so long now that I cannot even recall the last time the sun was out.  The front yard looks like a weed farm and the backyard is perfect for mud-wrestling, so if you're into that, come on by.  If people still asked us "WHY would you leave PORTLAND to come to MEMPHIS?" in those drippingly condescending tones, all I have to would have to do is raise my eyebrows and point outside.  This is what you deal with for approximately eight months a year, every year with very few breaks.  That isn't an exaggeration either!  The positive of that, I suppose, is that some very delicious coffee was created in that city and is served somewhere very close to wherever you choose to live there, so bravo to Stumptown for that.

Tomorrow is the Cooper-Young Festival and while it will likely be just as disgusting outside tomorrow as it is today, I think Ryan and I should certainly take a break from East Memphis for a Midtown jaunt and check it out and remind our Midtown-loving friends that yes, we are still alive.  You can't convince most of them to come out here for many reasons that don't include the word "Target" in them, those snobby bastards!  So, again, we'll come on into their realm. I do miss it there, from time to time, but I am always so happy to get back to our little oasis in the Isle of Sea.

I want some wings from Uncle Lou's or Hephzibah so badly right now...anyone care to deliver?  I'll hook you up with an Ativan and a beer!

I smile in your face, but watch your wallet, son.

I hope I am doing any of this correctly because obviously I forgot how to keep up my little blog I had going. Well, we'll see!

So it is nearing Fall 2009, into the "-ber" months which I was in another "-ber" month when I last posted on here. I just spent the last hour messing around with the settings and being extraordinarily irritated at the lack of choices for fonts and the like on Blogger or perhaps I am irritated at myself for feeling more and more like I need to call a youngun over here, like my brother, to show me how to work this little internet thing. I have a photo from 1986 where Jesse is not even a decade old and he is on our family's first Mac, showing my beau at the time (who was WAY too old for me to be dating, but that is another story) how to work the thing while said beau stares in awe.

So, last I wrote we had acquired Roo, the dog and we still have her adorable and loony self and many more photos shall soon be posted. She can catch frisbees, mostly Ryan's throws as I SUCK, but being a dog, Roo gives it the old college try every time I toss one haphazardly across the yard.

We spent the summer lopping, chopping digging and weeding and getting this backyard into the beginnings of something not utterly disgusting and overgrown, but we still have to cope with digging up the remains of weeds and shrubs that were literally left alone for far too long by the previous owner and they turned into trees with trunks. I can't blame her really; she did have Alzheimer's after all and when I start getting demented, I certainly won't be worrying about keeping up with the yard, regardless of what the neighbors have to not-say/say behind our backs about it!

OK, so let's get this thing going again. Perhaps I'll learn a bit more and be able to make this little site somewhat more attractive and hey, maybe my posts will one day be so interesting and thought- or anger-provoking that someone even comments!

Glad to back, peoples.

Meet Roo!

We now have a dog named Roo. A wire haired terrier/German Shepherd mix--she has kennel cough, is overly protective and has to stay in a kennel all day when we are work. She is a sweetheart and we are getting accustomed to each other. Viva is a bit intimidated but deals with her while Oscar growls and hisses and seems royally peeved that she has taken his place as the baby of the family.