Eat a Tamale, I say!

I swear to God, often….but today I’m swearin’ about agony!! All the grief life throws at people, really it’s unimaginable and frankly I’m damn sick of it! Today’s entry is not going to be very delicate or insightful because I do not feeeel delicate or insightful. I feel angry. Friends losing their children to cancer, gal pals with babies to raise heading into their 10th year dealing with tumors and crap, people’s parents going blind, my own crippled up kid - I am NOT finding a lot of grace in my heart right now over these things and I am seeking a way to lash out!!!! Yet, there is nowhere to vent. What - I phone up God and say, ‘Hey, what the hell is going on?” Grab an angel by the tail and swing it around until it coughs up a miracle or two? OH, shut up. You are spoiled and blessed and all this bellyaching is not productive, you are not being prolific and it’s certainly not attractive. Bitch, bitch, bitch. Lovely. Anyway, so can’t we get angry sometimes? Must we always be civil and humbled by our blessings and thankful. That pesky ‘thankful’ thing. I know people who spend an inordinate amount of time being thankful, (myself included, sigh) they strive to appreciate each special moment in their lives and the lives of their children, yet they STILL get whomped in the head by really really really bad things. Then you get these ’skaters’ - you know the ones - the people who seem to skate thru life unscathed. They barely tend to their business, their kids run a muck and nothing horrible ever seems to happen to them, while more fastidious types run themselves in circles trying to keep everything together and still— whammo, right between the eyes Norton, right between the eyes! I guess what I’m saying is this: Today I’m giving myself permission to be angry. I’m always holding it together for my family, for the public in general - and don’t we all do that? I mean, those of us who reside outside of institutions.

But here again, I’m hitting a wall. O.K., so I’m angry. Now what? Injustice is not a person. Unfair is not a governmental agency. (Tho I’m sure there are those who would argue that point and quite effectively.) Where do I lash out? Who do I flog? Punishment goes where? Lord, I’m starting to see why people drink and do drugs. They punish themselves. Some would say, some who are do-gooders and who would hock me off about now, “Go to the gym. Just take out that aggression on that treadmill baby girl.” Garbage!! Awwww, I HATE exercising….so I’m pissed off at the world and I should go do something I HATE? Like a gerbil on a wheel. Now there’s a recipe for ending up in the bell tower with Mr. Boomy! (semi-automatic of course, but I would decorate it with hearts by using pink fingernail polish. You know, customize it…..maybe a tassel hanging from the trigger….) Now I’m really drifting, because Jesus I HATE guns. SO - After much stewing in my seat here, and seeing the plumbers in and out who just stuck a pipe back together for $98.00 so I could do MORE things I hate (laundry), I’ve come to the conclusion that I simply need a tamale. Yes. I love tamales. I love the Mexicans for inventing them. There’s a new authentic Mexican eatery here in our little Mayberry and they have the best tamale’s I’ve ever tasted. It would make me happy for the 10 minutes it would take to slowly savor the tamale. I would blissfully sway to and fro in my booth to the charming latin beat wafting down from the speakers in the ceiling and I would be “tickled pink” as my beloved-saint-of-a-grandmother West would have said. Tickled pink. That’s what I need to be today. Just FLAT OUT tickled pink!!! Perhaps then I would be gratified, satisfied and maybe even chipper. My wonderful childhood friend Lisa used to have a dog named Chipper and she and her brother used to tease each other and accuse the other of ’sucking Chipper’s nose’. I myself had never thought about sucking on a dog’s nose but these were creative types and in fact she went on to start her own successful theatre company. But I digress….

So, EAT A TAMALE, I SAY! Or whatever makes you happy today. You could wake up with spots on your brain, tomorrow morning your kid could get hit by a car, your house could burn down. Sweet Jesus, the curve balls can just keep-a-comin’. So follow your bliss, even if it’s just to the local eatery to indulge in a warm, luscious, spicy tamale. Go on! Tickle yourself Pink. Tamale pink.

I miss you Grandma.