Talya Tate Boerner - grace grits and gardening

Now I lay me down to sleep, a bottle of pills at my feet…

February 15, 2012 By Talya Tate Boerner

This would be an excellent time to rob a bank. It would likely go unnoticed, unless during the process you also shoot a singer or actor in the teller line. For the next few weeks, until another Hollywood darling dies, serious news will go completely unreported.

This is your brain on drugs.

Ok so yes, Whitney had an amazing voice, especially 10 years ago. She was beautiful. I really liked The Bodyguard, but primarily because of Kevin Costner. And now she’s gone – much too soon – likely from a drug overdose (prescription or otherwise). Or maybe it was heart failure – your heart can only endure so much abuse. Regardless, she sadly did this to herself. It’s terrible. I feel bad for her daughter and her family and her true friends who probably saw it coming. But, people – we did not know her. Why are we so interested in this? During the first full hour after the news of her death, there were 2,481,652 tweets and retweets (per MSN.com), peaking at over a thousand tweets a second! Hmmmm. When this news exploded, my sister, mom and I were driving back to Dallas from Waco. My mother received several phone calls and text messages about this. Really? Apparently Osceola was all torn up.

Why not devote hours and tweets and blogs and tears and news reports to soldiers who have died in Afghanistan protecting Whitney Houston’s freedom? Isn’t that newsworthy? CNN will pontificate about her death for weeks, while young unnamed men leave behind devastated families and friends every day serving our country.

Was anyone surprised when Michael Jackson died? Really? The King of Pop was bizarre and mixed up and sad. We felt like we knew him, growing up with “Rockin’ Robin” – back when he still had a nose. I saw him sing Thriller in person. He was an amazing entertainer. But when he died, I wasn’t surprised in the least.

And Amy Winehouse? She bragged about her addiction, singing about her refusal to check into rehab. Oh let’s give her a Grammy for that.

Now I will admit, when Elvis died, we were devestated. People sobbed at the pearly gates of Graceland – and still do. But this was Elvis, and it was a different time. His downhill spiral wasn’t as obvious – we weren’t force-fed his every move by the media back then. His death was a shock.

Living just across the Mississippi River near Memphis – Elvis was practically our neighbor. When he was home at Graceland, the Commercial Appeal often printed handsome photos of Elvis giving away diamond rings and Cadillacs to his nurses. Ok, so this should have been our first clue – Elvis had nurses…? Who has nurses? Michael Jackson? On the occasions he checked into the Baptist Hospital for “exhaustion”, Momma and Nana immediately loaded us into the car, and we drove to Memphis. We circled around and around the hospital, with Staci and me hanging out the windows like dogs, trying to catch just a glimpse of the King. His top floor hospital room was easily identified – the window was covered in aluminum foil. This was our entertainment. So yes, we were very distraught when he died sitting on that toilet. We were still hoping for a diamond ring.

I’m just gonna go right out on a limb and predict LiLo may not be long for this world. Wild guess.

RIP Whitney Houston

talya

Musical Pairings:

Third Eye Blind, “Semi-Charmed Life”

Whitney Houston, “Didn’t We Almost Have it All?”

Elvis, “Are You Lonesome Tonight?”

PeopleAreOdd

February 14, 2012 By Talya Tate Boerner

There are some things I will never understand. I drove over to the Lakewood Library for some quality quiet time. I was interested to see how my neighborhood library compared to the non-libraryish library of Osceola. The parking lot was completely full, forcing me to park on the street around the corner. Wow, the library business was good in Dallas! I saw my friend Marcia, who was also looking for a parking space. She enlightened me – it was “story time” for all the neighborhood preschoolers. Ahhh maybe the library wouldn’t be so quiet after all. I wonder if dogs are allowed?

Lakewood Library

As I walked toward the front door, I noticed the light posts that lined the walkway were covered in yarn from top to bottom – each a different color combination – to keep them warm??? It wasn’t even cold. This yarn trend had become quite common in Dallas and apparently across the state as of late. Maybe it’s popular everywhere, I have no idea, but I have not seen any tree scarves in Arkansas – ever. It’s just very odd to me.

I selected a table near the window in a far corner. In the Hispanic area. Half the Lakewood Library – books, signage, periodicals – is designed for Spanish speaking visitors – an obvious difference from my hometown library. This was not surprising given our neighborhood mix. The library was very neat and orderly and organized. It was nice. It was libraryish. Mrs. Perry would approve. The Spanish books were aligned evenly just as she required.

In Osceola, most of the people inside were obviously using the computers to look for jobs. In the Dallas library, there was a balance of patrons – moms and/or nannys with kids, elderly men reading the WSJ, people apparently working, and several homeless people. If I become homeless, I will hang at the library.

While there, no one asked me to spell anything. I do not believe the librarian was cooking behind the counter. It was quiet. Later, as I walked back toward my car, I looked at those light posts again and contemplated this new strange trend. All the trees in the Dallas Arts District were ‘yarn bombed’ last summer. (I know this to be the correct terminology only because I googled it.) The Winspear Opera House requested its trees be covered for the opening of the musical Hair. An arborist was consulted to insure no trees would be harmed in the project. In Austin, the trees around the State Capitol and on the University of Texas campus were covered with these crocheted scarves. Who does this? Why?

Nana crocheted. She made blankets and doilies and Christmas ornaments. I don’t think she ever crocheted scarves for her apple trees or blankets for her irises. She tried to teach me. I could do a long line of stitches, but never turn, so maybe this is the one thing I could crochet – if my trees get cold this winter…

Dallas Arts District

I can’t imagine the time someone devotes to this. Who is this graffiti knitter? Is this one person with way too much time on her hands? or a group of people? Do they have nothing more productive to do all day long? Someone wraps all these trees and just leaves their hard work behind for others to see and critique and hopefully enjoy – what if no one does? Maybe everyone thinks its bizarre. Maybe people laugh and roll their eyes. Maybe people drive by and shake their heads. Maybe no one understands why anyone would spend all that time… They do it because they enjoy it?

Sorta like blogging.

talya

Musical Pairings:

Journey, “Don’t Stop Believin'”

John Mayer, “Waiting on the World to Change”

Austin

Love Shack baby!

February 14, 2012 By Talya Tate Boerner

Nana was born on Valentine’s Day. How perfect! The day of love and happiness. Growing up, the Valentine’s Day parties in elementary school with the cute little cards and yummy cupcakes were all secondary to Nana’s Valentine’s Day Birthday. We eagerly showered her with homemade cards, candy, a cake and presents – along with an off key rendition of Happy Birthday.

When Nana and Papa Creecy moved to Keiser from the home place, they bought the brick house next door to the Grahams. I thought it was the prettiest house in Keiser. It had a very cool finished-out attic which became our hideout. Staci and I played with our barbies there and listened to music during bunkin’ parties. There was no furniture in the attic, other than an oversized bright yellow wooden rocker. The house must have been built around that rocker – it was there when they bought it. And it was part of the deal when my mother sold it, after they died. The attic stairs were super steep and small – a secret little stairwell – that chair wasn’t going anywhere. The Mystery of the Attic Chair… I’m sure had Nancy Drew known, she would have solved the puzzle. I bet it’s still there.

In junior high, the attic became the site of many, many games of 7 Minutes in Heaven…Keiser,Arkansas-Style. Our version was really more a combination of Spin the Bottle and Thirty Seconds in the Closet. We all sat in a big circle surrounding a coke bottle in the center. We turned the overhead light off – probably because we were too embarrassed to see ourselves. Understandably, this drove Nana crazy. She would flip the switch at the bottom of the stairs and yell up to the attic space, “Taaaaaaaalya!!!” We would all giggle, “Oh sorry!” like we had no idea how that light turned itself off, wait a couple of minutes, and flip the switch again from upstairs. She couldn’t (or wouldn’t) climb those steep stairs, and we knew it. We took turns spinning the bottle, and the person the bottle landed on was the lucky recipient of a few seconds in the attic closet, in the shadows.

We spent lots of weekend nights up there – our little group of friends – Becky, Anita, Trina, Craig, Graham, Judy, Charles M, Timmy and others I’m sure. It was far from heavenly, but it was the closest we had been. It was fun and different and exciting at a time when we were innocent and full of teenage curiosity. No one spoke of what went on after a turn in that closet, but I doubt there are any big secrets. Timmy was always cute and nervous in that dark closet. He was funny, but shy. A turn with Craig was like 7 minutes of Botox. He nearly ate our lips off. Ruth was likely starving him – he was always in trouble with his mom… He definitely would have been punished had she known about Nana’s attic. We each kissed everyone eventually – we didn’t care which boy it landed on. They were all like our brothers… That game of thirty seconds in the closet was our important entre into dating and eventually true love.

I’m sure young teens today have outgrown Spin the Bottle. They are too busy texting and living in an online world.

Norfork Lake

Nana was much like Lucy Ricardo – funny, always laughing and typically into some type of mischief. I think Annabelle the Schnauzer must take after her…She was strong and faithful – at church every time the doors were open. She was loved by all – including all the kids up in the attic. Even though she was sick for much of her life – brain surgery in her 20s, leukemia in her 60s and a terrible headache nearly every day in between, Nana always had a beautiful smile on her face. And something funny to say. She never tried to be funny. She just was. Everyone who came into contact with her was better for it, and I miss her every day. Of course my mother has turned into her, so she isn’t really ever very far away.

I love this quote from Oscar Wilde…”All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That is his.”

Happy Valentine’s Day & Happy Birthday Nana!

xoxo

talya