I grew up in a small town in a poor, largely rural state during John Hughes’ box office reign. Like everyone else our age, my high school friends and I were smitten with Molly Ringwald and her humble thrift store chic. We longed for a Melrose Avenue or a Decatur Street where we, too, could find soiled brocade vests and bolo ties worn by strangers with lingering, pungent body odors. We longed for the poignancy of a suburban upbringing: the cool cars, the shimmering nightlife, the painful socio-economic class struggles. Each and every one of us had faith that, like Molly, we would someday triumph over our dysfunctional families and our castes to mature into lithe, beautiful swans.

Most fundamentally, we agreed that to achieve our Pretty-in-Pink dreams, we all had to leave. Our state, much less our town, could never encompass our ambitions–especially after our transformations. As soon as we’d developed our proverbial wings, we were all planning to fly. Goodbye, Mississippi. See you at Christmas. Maybe.

Two decades later, I’ve mellowed. (I can’t speak for the others, since I no longer speak to any of them.) Like Dorothy Gale, I’ve come to realize that I can always find happiness close-at-hand, and, extending the metaphor, that the world beyond my front steps often contains evil witches, needy friends, and singing flying monkeys. As a result, my attitudes toward my hometown have changed: these days, I really enjoy going back to Mississippi. It’s pretty, and it’s predictable, like mom’s pineapple upside-down cake-in-a-box. Granted, I can’t imagine moving there full-time, but it’s a great place to visit.

How sad, then, to read that the distinguished senators and less-distinguished representatives from the Hospitality State have chosen to be so inhospitable to the adult novelty industry. Where, oh, where, will the hordes of college students, drunk off their asses on cheap vodka and Pabst Blue Ribbon, go to get their poppers fix at 3am?

There are good news days and bad news days. Yesterday’s CNN headlines looked like an Easter gift to the AFA. I can imagine what Don Wildmon and his minions thought…

Bush: Memo had no ‘actionable intelligence’
[“Well, of course not. That Bush is a God-fearing man and would have done anything in his power to take out those danged heathens if he’d had the right information. Lucky for us, he learned his lesson and didn’t pussyfoot around with that Sodom guy.”]

Crews search for Mexico restaurant blast survivors
[“This is God’s way of telling them that Catholics can’t be trusted–especially as general contractors. They do clean a good house, though.”]

SI.com: Mickelson wins the Masters
[“Well, at least it wasn’t…you know, that other one. I tell you, that boy is finally reaping the sins of his parents…”]

‘Weird Al’ Yankovic’s parents found dead
[“…and there’s the other side of the coin: parents paying the ultimate price for their son’s unspeakable sins. Frankly, I never understood why folks found those songs so funny. They just went right over my head.”]

‘Passion’ back on top of box office
[“He is risen, brother!”]

Victoria’s Secret to drop TV fashion show
[“All those emails paid off, y’all! Now we can get back to a TV chock-full of football and Lethal Weapon movies.”]

Civil War casualties finally laid to rest
[“Even Yankees deserve a funeral. I guess.”]

1. I love “urban” as a euphemism for “black.” I think I’m going to start using it as part of my everyday vocabulary. As in, “My wardrobe is so urban I get mistaken for Johnny Cash.” Or, “I don’t care how hot it’ll get in the summer, I want an urban car.” Or, “Screw Atkins, I need sugar. One pound of urban jellybeans, please.”

I have to wonder, though, how urbans in rural areas feel about the whole thing. Do they feel left out? Or do they feel all fancy, like they’re livin’ large in Possumneck, Mississippi ’cause they’re bangin’ Ludacris in their F150?

And on the flip side: since I live in an ostensibly urban area, should I take out a subscription for The Final Call?

2. Avenue D is going to play at my sister’s club in London in less than two weeks. Color me jealous.

In other news, I think nearly a decade-and-a-half of living in New Orleans has finally begun to affect me–most notably in the way I find myself, a Southern Baptist, spontaneously reciting the Hail, Mary over and over and over when walking to the store or the gym or the cinema or, well, anywhere. At first, I thought it might be the verbal equivalent of a nervous tic, or perhaps a subconscious effort on the part of my psyche to give me a veneer of eccentricity (veneer? ha!) in order to prevent the tourist hordes from pestering me with questions like “Which way is Bourbon Street?”, “Is there a parade today?”, and the ever-popular “How do I get to Pat O’Brien’s?” But I find myself doing it in calmer moments, too–even in my own neighborhood, where relatively few out-of-towners roam the banquettes. Does it stem from a desire to fit in with the decidedly papist populace? Or is there something in the water?

Ça, c’est le deluge

Yesternight, I received the mother lode of all spampoems. Either those 100 monkeys have been working overtime, or the ghost of T. S. Eliot is trying to tell me something. In either case, I see no need to post anything beyond this: mere five-word subject lines would only be disappointing by comparison:

novice infant ludicrous neuron scour pusey grayson canal haven’t flagstone cantaloupe ecstatic edible censorious onomatopoeic annette gill herbert dna cutworm abreast daub mortar satan cortical official geodesy conjugal sector heterogeneity loon ga iniquitous degrease grownup bray diurnal aloud mix della fuzzy astronaut commotion campfire enunciable midweek metalliferous shotgun bullhide islam grillwork fragile barrington abrogate glossary scaup constantine ketone loquacious cytology houston inexperience median gnomon nonsensical hatfield coulter advertise certified rawboned malocclusion lugging paintbrush crewel piquant come clarendon gazelle gabon porcelain machinelike man impassion reconnaissance jovian robinson emission otiose rapid lobar kahn newman dang conrad larson aspirant

g dietetic emphysema manhole glyceride bimodal insist employed frayed into costume patroness apostate

army malaise crane concierge demitting ballyhoo incarnate herdsman aminobenzoic downhill caret shreveport college pacesetting birdwatch botulin equipped garth direct haven’t inference galilee dreyfuss icicle abeyance gasoline pneumococcus beecham lodestone furze impress accreditation meander portraiture christiana definitive and shadowy glandular gemstone chronic mcdonald showroom lifeboat as ringside corporate modem gracious onlook demultiplex bleak bergson chess predilect cringe everybody crystallographer notate fruitful belief choice draftsmen iniquity backboard database prank checkpoint glans irritable salsify handwritten descriptive given debase benefit inherent culpable muddlehead coax eliot boyish costa furrow inertia laryngeal corrigendum maul cutback homotopy pike dandelion floc buss deflate distortion flex button handout devonshire conservatory exportation contain artificial egalitarian carr indiscretion demoniac decay excise hough flinty annihilate inroad scalar concocter corinthian pedestal cherokee demitted loblolly respect nonchalant mine naiad diadem factual emaciate interlude appliance inexorable match eng lusaka glans bluegrass champagne merrymake loot bratwurst grown rosenzweig he’d carcinogenic sidetrack alginate longhorn climactic deploy beefsteak horace colatitude highwaymen faustian game continuo fetish henri exposition guitar incapable fleawort bud grenade reticulate ingenious dielectric baxter methanol mediocre invest extensive sanchez bushel niggle chisholm foe handle cushion ca goldman aircraft employed ineffable limitate conic abstain inharmonious dragonhead inflater freon mothball dogleg derby compete linus rafael bigot gar reflect hutchinson destabilize oppose inspector crack gaugeable gossamer fettle commemorate newport adjunct cacm europe centigrade diagonal relate heusen packet allele prescriptive radix graphic importunate herodotus gasify hamster arsenate pontificate concentric greet liaison pendulum riley armament cousin bridgeable lockhart monticello gooseberry egret alley greta exhaustive balloon eureka eventide convalescent facade arisen knew bag middlebury gladden nodular diocesan immoderate cumin peal regiment diffusion doorstep issuant armament crow indefensible cyclades rosenberg guess inhabit gimbal scrutable dinah hagstrom deport deprave layette property hiram shaffer creepy cia befitting core ammonium beyond cone cryptogram blend grayson grind diffusible borden heater hothouse mcdowell business ensconce illumine ablaze collet deconvolution automaton epitaxial partner chicken

jesus garrett clotho confidant bootstrapping philanthropy cartoon omission acquiescent downriver challenge astonish roam cartesian gusty hypnotic culprit purl cremate epitaxial adolphus aminobenzoic basel birthday gnome coffee attribution dither break counterman imperceivable durer beget onlooker don animal jude feign catastrophic kelsey dominant noose edward limbic posteriori bogeymen nigh cannot cute rivulet alone doctor escherichia frowzy millard dusenberg expel moo giblet mendacious janitorial min adaptation griffin cyanic cachalot freya ellison bloodshot cholera argot deducible englishman habitant blossom pullover adept chromic highest bush defend mathias apposition elk layman offprint parliamentary promptitude contrivance cytolysis protean sanctity guru foolish goatherd amphibious blomquist eire seeing ghostlike burglarproof greenland jura faber horrify annulled artificial finesse celestial cowpunch igneous blameworthy anisotropic homage i.e cougar abreact estimate darry asia sa cassandra kaolin alchemy mitigate exploit inclusion fungi bred abash incubate increase fugal danielson alice bangkok etude game barbital gradate jorgensen cheerful coin aviate died bronchitis castor defunct collocation kale ammerman presage cadenza c’s bergen resolute diary prosthesis enjoinder purdue cultivate carrion bear homestead sag hardscrabble bebop persevere britten nicosia melange factory coat loeb kimono disk coadjutor inflect necromantic cit entrepreneur inflow music casey platelet lippincott hangmen parks galilee daylight feldman ferocious macro norm adobe delimitation excusable servo braid schoolhouse serape fontainebleau citrus gary ingenious hildebrand invariant obsolete parley boeotia bridgework bauble gravitate chinaman afternoon amongst munificent haven’t coarse foulmouth chowder procession hoagland cyclotron basilisk nagging extricable arrogant berman posteriori province clannish karachi coverall ferber charta cohesive antacid criminal champ hexafluoride cascade formulate huxley coronate blackmail bemoan brassy holdout elena locomotion crackle blanket execution gimmickry comedy ask artie corrosive annihilate hibachi catchup bide erasable pejorative sibling radium catawba

auditory drill deposition invade muscle mitigate dimple centaur runaway incise indenture cylindric cattle billfold harelip priam reck pta foxhole graft grow advisory henrietta quirinal dougherty berman me buckle garvey engage deficient eureka insecure dote carson rummy orestes bonus fascinate insinuate immanent digitalis asphyxiate beautiful infrared intrinsic hungary different capacious andy offset birth lachesis cotoneaster handicapping pharmaceutic coruscate pediment bunch cycad net earth andorra orient equidistant force inductance bumble headphone bereave illustrious eldest befogging schmidt affirmative nature script astrology o’er corralled hydroxylate kwashiorkor lent antiquated chloroplatinate gosling moccasin pocket mensuration chickadee complimentary harpy effeminate cab percept inductee hydrolysis edmondson champlain hying monstrous patty camera badge seminary epoch corona debugger complimentary discuss heaven headstrong aquarius catheter latinate arch headboard

Still more spampoetry:

• armpit boxwood courtney delhi
• bathrobe partook euphrates calculi
• bondsman starchy marquette sinai
• and, holy samolians, looka here: beef proprietor

Yes, we’re at it again. Yes, we still have tickets available. Yes, it’s hilarious–with a name like Pussy on the House, how could it not be?

So, like, y’all come on down and see us, ya hear?

So, as if my upbringing and my hand-me-down family furniture and my behavioral habits and my patterns of speech and the drawl that slips out somewhere between my second and third glass of Pernod didn’t prove beyond a shadow of a goddamn doubt that I am, in fact, a product of the South, I now have confirmation: my mother (adoptive, not biological) has been committed to a loony bin.

I’m not kidding: an honest-to-god, men-in-little-white-coats loony bin.

Now, even when I was little, I could tell she was a bit…off. I mean, yes, she was always completely loving and caring and a good mother, but she was also really wacko at times. Like, flying off the handle for no good reason. Like, taking to her bed for weeks and months at a time, doped up on goofballs. Like, getting totally worked up about something–antiquing, old home tours, or B. J. Thomas concerts, for example–throwing us in the car, and driving ’till her obsession was sated. (But never more than four hours in a day–she couldn’t sit for longer than that.) You begin to get the picture.

This condition has only gotten worse with age. Her genetic disposition toward schizophrenia hasn’t helped matters. Neither has her drinking, nor her typically Baptist denial that she’s ever touched anything stronger than creme de menthe. Three failed marriages–including her divorce from my (adoptive) father–have been the icing on the cake of her sad downward spiral. (God, I should write romance novels.)

But whatever. The fact of the matter is that these days she’s using safety scissors and plastic utensils.

Curiously, her…confinement hasn’t really affected me. I mean, I’m not very close to her anymore. I think I’ve spoken to her twice in four years (mostly because her last husband lived in a really rural part of Mississippi and didn’t have a phone), and both of those occasions ended in frustration and wringing of hands and me remembering why I don’t bother. Simply put, we’ve lost the ability to communicate. We bear no grudge; we just accept the fact that we’re different people now and that we don’t have much to say to one another.

If I feel anything for her, it’s pity. Not guilt: she’s dug into this hole all by herself, despite years of effort from my brothers and me. Not sadness, either: at least she’s under supervision now–though I don’t hold any hope that the doctors will be able to improve her condition. Just pity.

Just remembered over lunch: my favorite non-Strangers with Candy Amy Sedaris moment is an appearance she made on David Letterman a couple of years ago, during which she whipped out an iron, an ironing board, two pieces of white bread, and a slice of government cheese and showed Martha Stewart how to make a cheese sandwich in prison. Proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that Amy isn’t just practical, she’s clairvoyant.

Louisiana homos and the homo-friendly: get your asses to Baton Rouge tomorrow!

DEFENSE OF MARRIAGE RALLY

You are cordially invited to attend a Rally sponsored by the Red Stick Republicans called a “Rally for the Defense of Marriage” on Saturday, March 6th, at 1:00 PM on the steps of the State Capitol.

Please join us as we show our support for President Bush and his call for a constitutional amendment supporting traditional marriage and family values. Gene Mills with the LA Family Forum will be our key note speaker for the event. Other local and state elected officials will be in attendance. We would be honored to have you join us!

—from a Louisiana Family Forum press release

It’s like the 80s all over again. Whee!