Lynn M. Dixon's Blog, page 16

Queen Elizabeth II: A poem

The Queen

The Queen taught me grace and stability,
Her long reign enhanced my ability.

Her commitment to duty and to serve,
Her country and the world make us bow, curve.

Good manners and soft-spoken, but succinct,
Her many words of comfort? Now in ink.

She set standards for this unruly place,
Yes. Her mere example makes a strong case!

*Rest in peace, dear Queen Elizabeth II

Lynn M.
September 10, 2022

Serenaded by Babbie Mason

Babbie Mason

Sometimes people don’t know what they mean to you because you have never verbalized it. This post salutes Babbie Mason, an inspirational singer and songwriter that helped me on a daily basis. I was listening to the Moody Bible Church radio station in the late 90’s while living on the north side of Chicago.

I was feeling uncertain about my life and my future and then this woman’s voice came on the air. She started singing and for me, time stood still. She talked briefly and said that she had flown into a foggy Chicago night sky, but she felt that she had to get there, no matter the weather.

That was how I was introduced to the moving music of Babbie Mason. Shortly thereafter, I moved to the East Coast and landed in Boston for four years. I went to a music store and purchased her CD’s. They sustained me as I sorted out many things in my life through my daily promenades.

I did not have a car while in Boston, but I walked daily often with my headphones on, and my portable CD player attached around my waist. And Babbie sang to me. She comforted me. She reassured me. She boosted my confidence and mostly, she gave me hope and my faith increased. Her songs are not the traditional ones, and she has added her own unique spice from her personal observations of life.

In her song, God Has Another Plan, she wrote:

“So, when the rain falls hard
And the storm winds come
And you think it will never blow over
Trouble under your feet
Nothing over your head
And you find yourself running for cover
Oh, God has another plan.”

I listened to her as I walked the Back Bay area and circled the walkway at the Charles River.  And, after returning to the Midwest, I listen to her when I drive or on my iPad. She always gives me that umph and energy to press on. Babbie Mason offers that pick-me-up comparable to a smooth rub on the shoulder, once again letting me know that it is going to be alright.

The Charles River-Boston

Lynn M.
September 3, 2022

Summer Has Been-

Summer has been –
Cool breezes sitting by blue Lake Michigan. 
Long snoozes during the light of day and 
Lots of good cooking and healthy eating to boot. 

Summer has been –
A Zoom library conference and a visit to an exhibit, in person, 
Along with several written blog posts while immersed in quiet time, 
To think clearly and clean out that mental cache. 

Summer has been –
Reading books and peering into the lives of legends, 
Adding in research to further heighten the awareness. 
Yet taking time to chat with sainted friends and dear ones.

Summer has been –
Stress free. No airports nor jet lag to recoup from.
Just calm evenings listening to noisy cicadas doing their thing. 
A special staycation to regroup and refocus before the onslaught of the new! 

Lynn M. 
August 27, 2022 

Just Listen!

The other day I was talking with a friend about the Michigan library that was defunded over a controversial book. One conversation led to another, and we ricocheted over to a book called Push by Sapphire. A high school librarian shared with me that she had to keep it under lock and key, a few years back. Otherwise, the copies kept disappearing. That speaks volumes about what was on the minds and hearts of those young patrons. 

Push, from which the movie Precious was based, deals with a teen that is being abused by her mother’s mate. The mere fact that so many young women at the high school wanted to keep the book announces that they identified with its main character. They obviously were having similar experiences and often those traumatic emotions are dealt with in isolation along with self-recrimination. 

Too often, the victims are not believed, silenced or shunned by those who they should be able to trust. Some women or mothers do not know how to deal with their daughters’ developing sexuality and certainly cannot face the fact that their beloved mate has a roving eye. It is easier to tuck one’s head inside the turtle shell and act as if it is not going on or to blame the daughter as if she in some way invited the unwelcome attention. 

I recently finished the book Blonde by Joyce Carol Oates. When Norma Jeane was about 15, her foster mother married her off to the first man that she could because she did not like the way her husband looked at Norma Jeane. When she became famous, Marilyn Monroe never answered the woman’s letters because she never forgave her for pushing her into marriage to simply get her ‘out of the way.’ Of course, the marriage did not go well. 

It makes me think of the countless stories where women or men have repressed the sordid occurrences and when they try to tell someone in the family, they are often cast off as if they have a plague. In the movie, Prince of Tides, the mother makes all her children keep the secret that they had been sexually assaulted by some escaped convicts. The don’t tell anyone syndrome is as old as the sun. They kept the secret, but it landed the sister under suicide watch in a hospital. 

I read that one star tried to tell her family about her father’s abuse and once again, she was not believed nor taken seriously. Those who refuse to be silent are too often labeled as mentally disturbed or someone who should not be heard. We are not armchair psychologists, but if someone opens up about such a sensitive topic, we can at least listen. It would never occur to me think that anyone would make up anything about abuse. 

That is truly a turtle approach because those who refuse to hear it,” Can’t handle the truth,” as Jack Nicholson shouted in A Few Good Men. Of course, there were no witnesses. Abusers don’t operate in the light of day with an audience. But I can say from working around both young girls and boys, if they are acting out or unusually angry, its often a symptom of something else. If someone took the time to get to the heart of the problem, there just maybe some inappropriate activity taking place somewhere. But most people do not have the time nor mind to delve deep enough to see what is really going on. 

We should listen to both our girls and boys because usually the perpetrator or the one causing the hidden stress is in the next room or somewhere very close by. I would say, “Parents, take off the blinders. Don’t be In Love and In Trouble like the title of one of Alice Walker’s books. Listen. Pay close attention to your child that may be harboring the unthinkable. Get rid of the creep and nurture your God-given gift (your children), so that they can rise to their true potential! 

Lynn M. 
August 20, 2022 

Restore!

If you once built part of your dream,    
And lost the artifacts? Don’t scream. 

There’s an everlasting fountain, 
To help you rebuild your mountain. 

That inner substance within you, 
Will aid in creating things new. 

You either have it, or do not, 
But you do! So, restore your lot! 

Lynn M,
August 19, 2022

Art Remains!

This summer, I have been reflecting on the biopics that are hot topics in 2022. Two legends come to mind which are Elvis and Marilyn Monroe. The new Elvis movie and the upcoming movie called Blonde is based on Joyce Carol Oates’ book Blonde. I recently read and reviewed the book. Both of their lives were tortuous in some ways, which happens too often with our great artists. 

Like the oyster creating that precious and sought-after pearl, the irritations, aggravations and agitations churn together to develop something extraordinary and timeless. The fascination with these two lives never dies and the beauty of technology allows us to revisit them over and over again. Our lives today are much richer because they lived and endured as long as they could withstand the onslaughts.

Nikki Giovanni wrote a Poem for Aretha many years ago. She penned, “We eat up our artists like there is going to be a famine in the end.” She added, “She (Aretha) has to pass out before anyone recognizes she needs a little rest.” Her words spoke volumes then and continue to ring true today as we watch our artists burn out and expire right before our eyes. The list is endless.

Our gifted ones are too often pushed beyond the brink and their bodies give out from exhaustion. Janis Joplin pleaded for some time off but they are seen as cash cows for the big marketeers. Few are protecting their physical and mental heath so that they can rest and rejuvenate like ordinary human beings.

Those in their close inner circles who are now known as their handlers, as if they are livestock, both revere and revile them. Some, harboring hidden envy of their magic, are complicit in their demises by working them like mules. Many may not know that they have private traveling doctors on hand to constantly inject them like inflatable balloons. Then they push them on stage whether they are clothed in their right minds or not. They drown them with pills, indulge them in alcohol, or surround them with their drug of choice, just to keep the dollars flowing. 

The Elvis movie exposed some of this but it did not tell all of the story. After researching, I discovered that while he was technically in Las Vegas, they were still having him perform nightly in cities around the country. Back then, travel alone was an exploitative piece of the puzzle. So, by the time he got to the next city, he may have been gorged out of his mind. And yes, he may have forgotten the lyrics to some of the 450 songs in his repertoire. But, thank goodness, he had Graceland to retreat to where it all ended.

Judy Garland, who started as a child actor has homeless at the end of her journey, according to the movie, Judy. And Marilyn was basically homeless being moved from house to house that the studio provided until she finally had her own house for a few months before she passed on. Both women made millions for the movie industry for which they could never be adequately compensated. In Marilyn’s last days, her make-up artist would paint her white for up to five hours like a porcelain doll to try to conceal the evidence of her ravaged body before she finally made it to rehearsal or onstage because ‘the show must go on!‘

The beauty of it all? The art remains and their work remains. Both obviously had the inner stuff and could put it together like no other. They are simply unmatchable. Young people are Googling them and eyes are still oggling them. This year, a young Hollywood star even wore Marilyn’s iconic dress. Elvis has sold over a billion records, more than anyone else in record industry history. I am certain they enjoyed wearing those high fashions and specially designed pieces on their good days . Elvis and Marilyn are now smiling down from heaven and sighing, “Oh well. It worked out!”

Lynn M.
August 13, 2022

Surely!

We all remember the fable of The Tortoise and the Hare which taught that slow and steady wins the race. It truly applies to the game of life. As people race to the proverbial top, they often trample over others like an unbridled herd of cattle. They are desperadoes who will lie, cheat, steal or slander the names of those who they perceive as in their way as they make a mad dash towards their temporary thrones. 

Shakespeare wrote tragedies like Macbeth and many others as he tried to warn the attentive ones that ‘easy come, easy go. But, as Sonny and Cher sang, “The Beat Goes On.” Folks continue to put their fragile egos ahead of sound thinking or making choices.

The fruit of one’s labor may appear slowly and take time quite like any maturation process; but it is sure and everlasting. The Bible says, “Ye shall know them by their fruits.” {Matthew 7:16) Thus, wiser ones take cover and shield themselves when they hear the hoofs of the ensuing stampede. Or they may pull their turtle heads inside of their protective shells and wait for the storm to pass over. For yes, cooler heads do prevail, and they may whisper, “Slow and steady win the race,” as their personal mantras.

When the fickle and feckless are no longer walking around in a puffed-up fashion and the coast is clear, those patient, silent ones can quietly emerge from their hidden spaces. They can let out a big sigh of relief and breathe and say, “Ah!! They have stayed the course and remained steadfast and unmovable. Then, they can surely amble their way over to their predestined spots, sit and just be! 

Lynn M.  
August 6, 2022 

Haute Couture!

In the movie, Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris, Mrs. Harris is a cleaning woman in 1957 London. She is a widow and in living in sparse conditions and one day she sees a designer dress in one of her client’s closets and falls in love with it. Each day, she admires its beauty and wants one for herself. She starts thinking of ways that she could go to Paris to visit one of the fashion houses.

She and a friend go to the dog races and she bets all of her money on a greyhound called Haute Couture.  He stops mid-race and she is devastated. But then a series of events heave good fortune her way. She receives a surprise military pension back pay from her late husband, the man from the betting booth at the dog race returns her lost money and she receives a reward for returning an expensive piece of jewelry that she found on the street.

She decides to book a flight to Paris and has an abundance of cash on hand. Once there, she finds her way to the House of Christian Dion with the help of some local guys from the station. Of course, she doesn’t fit in with the high-end fashion clientele, but once they discover that she has cash, they are willing to work with her. And, a debonair gentleman asks her to be his guest at the fashion show when he sees that she is being ostracized by the others.

The fashions are breathtakingly beautiful and when she sees the dress she wants, a well-known snob sitting next to her bids on the dress first. She is forced to make another choice, but soon discovers that they make each dress for the buyer. Thus, she needs to stay in Paris for at least another week.

Things work out because one of the young workers has an extra bedroom and she is even allowed to wear his sister’s clothes. She enjoys Paris, is wined and dined and even hits a few hot spots. There are a lot of twists and turns but she makes friends and even encourages the workers to voice their concerns to Mr. Dior. She ultimately leaves with her tailored gown in tow.

Watching this movie reminded me of my own roots with fabric. With two designer sisters who could make coats and wedding gowns without a pattern, many memories flourished as I watched Mrs. Harris tour the fashion house. The cutters, the button sewers, the fitters all made me remember the hours that I painstakingly waited as a child as my mother slowly turned the pages in the huge pattern books at the fabric stores. I was so bored, but quite like osmosis, my first piece of furniture was a Singer sewing machine in a cabinet when I moved into my first apartment.

This movie was a great escape and I am happy that I caught it before it left the big screen. As the credits rolled at the end, they creatively put fashion designs on both sides of the screen. They changed every few seconds quite like a display window. Mrs. Harris ultimately discovered that there is no place like home where she returned to find even greater joy.

In the African American culture, when one visits the Mother Land (Africa), the best gift upon return for a true friend is a piece of fabric. Once that fabric is unrolled, there are so many possibilities.  Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris was another golden nugget in my 2022 summer adventures!

Lynn M.
July 30, 2022

Wooden Pieces!

The other day, I ventured into the lumber department of Home Depot. I had a creative project in mind. Others watched as I browsed the area with a level of ease because there were no other women visible at that time. 

As I found what I was looking for, a memory resurfaced from my past childhood. In the mid-50’s, our family lived at 12 East Fay in Memphis, Tennessee. There were six of us with four girls and of course our two parents. We had a small house at the end of the street and next door? There was a lumber yard. 

So, all those sawmill smells and memories rolled forth at the same time as I looked at wooden planks in the store. We not only lived next door to the lumber yard entry, but we took it one step further as children. We used to walk through the lumber yard to go to Southgate Mall, mostly to probably buy candy. Back then, we could choose the candy of our choice, and have it weighed and put in a little, small bags.  

Interestingly, each of us had different tastes and we left happy after leaving the store, Katz. The store’s logo was a sign of a huge cat that hung high outside. There were several other shops in the mall including a Pic Pac or Kroger grocery store. There were sometimes small carnivals for children with rides held there and stationed in the mall’s parking lot. 

Somehow, we never got lost when we used the lumber yard as a shortcut. I suspect that our father showed us the way and depended on my oldest sister, Cheryl, to lead us through safely. When we emerged from the winding path through the lumber yard, it was like re-entering civilization whether we were going to the mall or returning home. 

Thus, wood has and still plays a special role in my life. My father had an on-going workshop where he built things such as cabinets or tables. We sometimes had to sit on one side of the plank as he sawed and worked on getting his specifications down to perfection. Later in my life, I even purchased an unfinished roll-top desk and had a good time sanding it and adding shellac to give it the finishing touches. Thankfully, I had a pair of helping hands to get the job done. 

So, as an adult, I gleefully embrace the daintiness of choosing choice fabrics for house decorations like my mother or maintaining a skeleton tool case like my father. There must be a screwdriver, a hammer, a wrench, some nails and screws and yes, a paintbrush and some shellac on hand at the home front. It takes all the particles and pieces of our lives to make a composite whole. 

 Every snippet of life is a story, and we all have trillions of life events that emerge as we make daily choices. Sometimes, we must get still to remember why we like what we like and why certain things are easy for us. Who would have thought that down in Dixie where Cotton Was King, there would be a lumber yard that made a huge impact on this appreciator of wood? 

Lynn M. 
July 23, 2022 

Vegas: Life Off the Strip

Most people know Las Vegas for its night life and shows on the strip, but believe it or not, many live there who go about everyday life and rarely go on the famous strip. I spent four months there with my older sister in the summer of 1997. I only saw Vegas at night one time when another sister came and while with her, I ventured to gamble only two dollars in the slot machine as I watched she and her friend play the gambit. 

But there is another entire side that most visitors do not see or even think about while in the city of lights and fun. After arriving there, I found a temp agency called Apple One Employment Services. I like to have my own money and thus my own independence. So, I was sent on a host of jobs such as working at a toy company sorting small items, answering phones at a real estate company, helping at a printing company, as a receptionist at Wells Fargo Bank and my longest job was filing medical folders at Sunrise Hospital, where I met a woman from Chicago, who later became my lifeline. 

The biggest challenge for me was getting to the job locations. First, it was hot. Second, the buses ran once an hour so if I missed it, ‘Oh well!” My sister helped me figure out the bus schedules and I kept one handy. Her apartment was around Spring Mountain and Wynn which did have a swim pool. I often walked to a nearby Chinese grocery store to get items, or I went a little further to buy fresh bread at a Hostess Bread place. 

People were kind and helpful as I traveled in the hot desert. It always felt foreign to me, as a Midwesterner, used to flat land as I looked at the nearby mountains. Two thoroughfares which helped me regain my bearings were both Rainbow Boulevard and Paradise Road. Once, I reached one of those, I could navigate my way back home. 

Las Vegas is a piece of Americana that holds different memories for each person. Some see it as a big playground where they frolic, drive fancy cars and live it up as in Elvis’ song Viva Las Vegas. I remember seeing Natalie Cole’s name every day on one the marquees either at The Flamingo or Ceasar’s Palace. I know that it sat on a corner close to Bally’s. Once I ventured into the shops around Bally’s and I saw a white suede pant suit. It was beautiful and it made me want to cry because I couldn’t take it home! That boutique had some memorable pieces, and some had that Native American influence. Also, there was a lot of turquoise jewelry there and I am certain that came from that entire Southwestern region. 

To keep myself anchored, I listened to Chuck Swindoll’s radio broadcasts and attended a church every Sunday which was a division of Ernest Holmes’ Church of the Religious Science. It was close to the University of Las Vegas (UNLV) campus which I did explore in detail one day. When I was feeling overly anxious one time, the minister, Dr. Carlo, merely said to me, “God is still creating.” I thought that he was being quite cavalier, but now, all these years later, I see that he was right. 

While visiting the friend that I had met on the job from Chicago, I was sitting in her living room, and she descended the stairs giving me the news about Princess Diana. It’s one of those things that you always remember exactly where you were when you received the news. Time froze for a few moments. She was a Buddhist and at her invitation, we both kneeled before her Buddhist altar, held beads and chanted for a period, until we felt calmer. 

At the end of the summer, I flew back to Chicago to the Hyde Park area to rejoin my mother. I put Vegas in my rear-view mirror, went on to work in the Loop, catching buses and carrying on.  I was happy to once again be on flat Midwestern soil. Yet, I must say, “Viva Las Vegas made me all the wiser! 

Lynn M. 
July 15, 2022