Sassistas! Our dish on the social soup.

Feet First

The photo to the left features Jerseysista wearing her pair of the thin rubber shoe sensation, Vibram Five Fingers. 

According to Vibram's website:

When you go barefoot, your movements become the movements of a child—playful and sensitive, yet purposeful and confident. You experience the unbound joy of stepping, hopping, and running across any surface on earth, simply to get from here to there.

Vibram FiveFingers® allow you to relive that sensation. Unlike conventional shoes that insulate you from your surroundings, FiveFingers footwear deepens your connection to the earth and your surroundings. FiveFingers enhance your sense of touch and feel, while improving foot strength, balance, agility, and range of motion. 

The Sassistas! were reminded of Jersey's FF's (FiveFingers) yesterday while reading a front-page article in the business section of the Sunday New York Times. Pictured (see right) were the feet of Tony Post, chief of Vibram USA, running in Jersey's FF's (well, not HERS specifically, but you know what we mean).  The article provides an overview of how upstart companies like Vibram "are challenging the running-shoe status quo with thin-sole designs."

The Sassistas! were also reminded of a Washington Post review they read recently of Born to Run by Christopher McDougall.  In his book, McDougall argues that "feet that are in direct contact with the ground get constant sensory feedback.  They adjust to reduce impact."  

Yeah, but how MUCH are these things?  Preliminary Sassistas! research reviews that these things are about 80 bucks.  Hmmm.  For shoes that feel like you're wearin' nuthin', that's more than nuthin'.  Our sassearch uncovered a much less expensive alternative.  Click here to see for yourself.

Would you wear Vibram FiveFingers?  Why or why not?

Morning Light

Friend, you lie quiet,
watching the dawn light color your heart,
dreaming of healing for your hurt body
laying there unanswerable to your will.
You breathe deep and your breath has two sides:
inside and outside. You are on both, being breathed.
The future approaches. You will heal or
you will go back to being God.
Which will you do?

Oh by all that is beautiful--
May it be that you live!
May your body heal happy and whole!
May energy fill and delight you!
May we join the dance your presence gives!
May you live!

And if you die?
Oh dear self, by all that is beautiful, 
Know you are Safe! Everything is All Right
Forever and Ever and Ever!
The most wonderful, exquisite, familiar
Truth is what is True, and welcomes you.
It will be very easy.

You lie quiet now, praying.
A great healing is coming
and you want to be ready.
The colors of your heart blend
with the light of the morning.
You are blessed.

-- Elias Amidon

Thank you, PEACEsista for posting this beautiful poem of healing during this weekend's Open Mic.

August 2009 Open Mic

The sassosphere microphone is open, sistas and mistas.  

Please step up and dish whatever you like.  We're listening.

The Sassistas! sponsor Open Mic the last Friday of every month.

Pollyanna

A true story.

On Tuesday, while walking the dog at lunchtime, Flannista passed an empty reading chair at a street corner a block from her house.  On the way back home, Flann noticed a woman (wearing a James Dean t-shirt) sitting in the chair and asked if she could take her photo.  The woman asked who I was and not wanting to linger, I quickly yelled out my website URL, assuming she had no computer.  I came home to the following email:

Well, the formerly homeless woman who bought my old car doesn't want my chair, so it is still on the street.  

Interesting story on the car.  Woman's niece works at the MVA, and I told her I was getting rid of the car.  She said her aunt (who is a single mother, formerly homeless, who is working at Hardees somewhere), needed a car.  I told her I would sell it for $500.  Her aunt called me, told me she wanted it, but only had $200 currently and would pay me $50 every other week.  Being a pollyanna, I told her sure.  She signed an agreement (which she said she wanted to do) and now she has the tags and insurance and took the car.

Everyone I have told about this thinks the $200 is the only money I will see.  The $200 about covers my insurance AND the new registration I just got (from her niece at the MVA), so it is no loss to me.  Maybe she will pay, maybe she won't.  I am rather a pollyanna, and hope she does -- that would help to bolster my flagging belief in the good in people.

Five minutes later, the phone rang.  It was "Pollyanna" who got my phone number from my website.  She told me that her husband recently left her and that she was an unemployed actress.  Then she said this:  "Mostly I'm lonely and need a friend. Will you be my friend?  Can we have coffee?  Do you have work for me?"

Flann's instincts tell her to stay away from "Pollyanna," but Flann is kind of hooked by the "flagging belief in the good of people" line. What should Flannista do?  

Without Him

The Sassistas! woke in the middle of the night to the sad news that Ted Kennedy, one of the most powerful and influential senators in American history, had finally succumbed a few hours earlier to a malignant brain tumor.  A statement released by the family ends this way:

He loved this country and devoted his life to serving it.  He always believed that our best days were still ahead, but it's hard to imagine any of them without him.

To read the New York Times coverage of his life, click here.  For the Washington Post, click here.  A paragraph from the New York Times seemed to best capture the Sassistas! perspective on this lawmaker:

He was a Rabelaisian figure in the Senate and in life, instantly recognizable by his shock of white hair, his florid, oversize face, his booming Boston brogue, his powerful but pained stride. He was a celebrity, sometimes a self-parody, a hearty friend, an implacable foe, a man of large faith and large flaws, a melancholy character who persevered, drank deeply and sang loudly. He was a Kennedy.

Yes, he was a Kennedy, the only son to make it to old age.  Please post your own thoughts about this remarkable, troubled leader.

Oil Can What?

Seventy years ago today, "The Wizard of Oz" was released in theaters nationwide.  

The Sassistas! contend that this beloved movie contains all the wisdom you need to know in life.

For example, when someone says to you, "I think he's saying, 'oil can,'" you respond, "Oil can what?" because it's important to be curious about what oil CAN do.

Here is other wisdom:

• Always have an oil can at the ready.
• Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.
• When people die, they are not just merely dead, they are most sincerely dead.
• Eating too many lollipops can stunt your growth.
• An MRI can determine that your head doesn't contain straw or a tumor.
• If you aren't a good witch or a bad witch, you're a fairy with a bad perm.
• Courage puts the "ape" in apricot.
• Poppies make you sleepy.  Opium makes you high. Tequila makes you happy.
• Never underestimate how far a good broom can take you.  Also a good pair of ruby slippers.  If you have to choose between the two, go for the slippers.
• Ha ha ha, ho ho ho, and a couple of tra la las.  That's how we laugh the day away at merry expensive spas.
• Who you choose to journey with says a lot about you.
• If you are ever King or Queen of the forest, show compash.
• Flying monkeys were creepy then and they're creepy now.
• There's no place like home.

What lessons have you learned from "The Wizard of Oz"?  Please share!  

Also birthday blessings to PEACEsista today, who is also receiving the lay ordination of Interbeing under the auspices of Thich Nhat Hanh.  Congratulations, PEACE!

A Moving Experience

Well, the Jersey has landed.

Jerseysista may not yet have internet access, so she may not be able to post again today, but trust me, the Jersey has landed.

Ever have to move in your life?  It's a big deal, sistas and mistas. And to understand just how big, get a load of the boxes on the left.  Those are the boxes that Jersey and Flannista emptied on Friday night after her movers arrived with her things. And those are the boxes holding ONLY her kitchen items.

Let's talk first about her movers:  Two Men And a Truck. Actually, for Jersey's fine things, it was five men and two trucks.  But lemme tell ya, these men could not have been more efficient and polite.  I witnessed each one of them wipe their feet BEFORE they entered Jersey's new home.  Further, they wiped their feet EACH TIME they entered Jersey's home.

Next, let's talk about Jersey's things.  They're beautiful.  Not only does she have REAL furniture, she has REAL taste.  Not like Flannista, whose taste in home decor starts and ends at Colonial Jock. Wish you could have been a fly on the wall when barista arrived on Saturday.  Possessing a keen eye for decor and design herself, she immediately began to hang curtains and art work. At one point, she told Jersey, "I think that mirror in the dining room is three inches too high."  

Huh?

Jersey agreed.  Flann couldn't tell, but then again, she was too busy emptying and breaking down boxes. Her favorite box is the one pictured right -- the one holding kitchen gadgets.  A gadjllion kitchen gadgets, including six different cooking thermometers.  Six.  "I need a candy thermometer," Jersey insisted. Of course.  And see that green thing that Jersey is holding?  It cores apples.  Plus she has four different whisks.  Four.  And a silver mallet.  Flann has no idea what that thing is used for in the kitchen.  What do YOU think?

All to say, welcome to your new home, Jersey!  We are delighted and grateful to have you in our neck of the woods . . . kitchen gadgets and all!

Bloom Again

"No eyes that have seen beauty ever lose their sight." 

-- Jean Toomer

The above image of a community mural was taken by treesta.

Bloom

The Sassistas! would like to acknowledge and thank treesta for dishing our fascinating weekend sass!

I’ve always loved nature. I can spend hours walking in the woods, watching birds, gazing at flora, catching glimpses of animals as they scurry out of my path. But I'm a city girl now, thanks to DC. We live in a cute little 1920’s rowhouse a few blocks off Rhode Island Avenue and a 15-minute walk from the Metro Station. At night, we can hear the brakes squeal as the train pulls into the station.

A walk in Northeast Washington is a good bit different than a walk in the fields along the Wye River. The flowers I see are planted in postage-sized gardens in front of rowhouses, or are straggly weeds struggling to survive in the cracks of sidewalks. Sparrows and pigeons replace goldfinches, bluebirds and herons. As for urban animals, I've only had three sightings –- squirrels, feral cats, and once, a rat dashing through an alleyway. Still, I seek beauty, so I must now look with different eyes.

What I have found in this jungle of concrete and asphalt are murals. They are everywhere. Some are rather well-known –- a building-sized painting of Marilyn Monroe’s face graces Connecticut Avenue near the zoo. Some are corporate-sponsored and professionally done. Many, however, are done by local graffiti artists on vacant buildings, in back alleys, along the train tracks, under bridges. These are my favorites.  I now carry my camera whenever we walk through town. In the past couple of months I have taken hundreds of pictures.

Last weekend, DC told me about a mural project she heard about on our community listserv. We walked over to find a block-long painting orgy in progress on a concrete wall behind the neighborhood shopping center (sponsored and organized by a community non-profit organization). Dozens of local artists were all busy rolling and spraying, creating their art. Neighbors were milling about watching the effort, engaging the artists in conversation. Hip-hop music was blasting from under a tent set up in the parking lot. Most of the artists were in their teens to early twenties. I recognized some of their "tags" from other art-graffiti I have seen along the metro tracks leading to Union Station. How many of them, if painting along the tracks, would be considered vandals rather than artists? In reality, they are just good people coming together on behalf of community and neighbors.

Undoubtedly, I will always crave moments of quiet and solitude -- in the forest, along the bay, at the beach. But beauty? Beauty is there for the seeking –- no matter where we are planted.

When have you found beauty where you least expected to find it?

Benchmark

Today marks the day when a significant number of beloveds in the sassosphere set out on adventures and will be away from their computers for at least a week.  We wish them travel blessings.  We're also sending best wishes to Jerseysista who is today officially moving to the Sassistas! neck of the woods.

Speaking of woods, this is a photo of a bench at a lake that's a five-minute walk from Jersey's new home. Flann is posting this image because this bench once captured Huckleberry's attention -- and then Flann's -- one crisp fall morning about four years ago. 

It was about 6:30 a.m. and Huck and Flann were walking along when Huck suddenly stopped and stared at this bench from the same vantage point of this photo.  Seated on the bench were two women, clearly senior citizens.  My first thought was, "Hey, that's Betty White and Estelle Getty from "The Golden Girls.'"  They were deep in conversation. Then I noticed one playing with the gray hair of the other.  Huck tilted his head, then squared his ears.  At that moment, the women embraced each other tightly and then began to make out like teenagers in the back seat of a car.  Their passion was intense. My face got hot.  Huck was motionless.  I soon felt like an intruder and quietly pulled Huck's -- and my attention -- away.  We continued our walk, Huck stopping every six feet to look back.  Me continuing to stare straight ahead.

I smiled then, and I'm smiling now.

Any of you ever witness something on a bench or playground or public park that you think about every time you pass it?