Skip to content

Posts tagged ‘IPhone’

On the Trail of Titillation

Pilgrimages. For millennia, people have been compelled to undertake them. What is it about certain spots on the globe, the vibes they emit that tease, taunt and summon us humans to see them?

Yesterday, I embarked upon a pilgrimage of my own. The topless sky and temperate cold air beckoned me to take a walk to a sliver of the unknown in an otherwise familiar city. Trusty iPhone programmed, I made lazy efforts to give my trek a highbrow flair. Art deco architecture and the promise of ancient mummies diverted me. I tried to calm my overwrought yearnings by propelling my feet through a display of religious art from the Renaissance. In painting after painting, the face of Christ scolded the purpose of my quest.

I ignored it and moved along.

Outside once again, my happy feet skipped along their path of original intent. They were tired of being denied, of being forced into making extra effort to undertake activities that would cause blisters by the time they reached their unavoidable destination.

Due west, we walked, my feet and I. Due west into the blinding sun and boisterous sky. My footsteps throbbed in my head. My throat was parched. I panted and wiped dew from my brow. The unexpected appearance of a shoe warehouse, that emporium of the feet-cladding fetish, was incapable of stopping me in my tracks.

I had to see it for myself. The golden hoop at the top of a collection of bare moons. The frolicking nakedness cast in bronze in the middle of a city roundabout.

Musica, the art installation in Nashville. The statue more commonly known as HILLBILLY PORN.

Can I Send You Some Cootchie?

Whether you’re new around these Cootchie-fied parts or not, you might have noticed some *minor* alterations to the blog. Besides mixing up the writing, I’ve made a couple of changes to the layout. Please hang with me for a bit of technicality. You’ll get to cast a vote at the end. (And, we all know how much I value your votes. Readers voted for the blog’s current name - The Accidental Cootchie Mama.)

Down the right-hand side of the blog, I’ve reordered the boxes. The Kiss My Inbox Subscribe feature is now the first thing you should see, Dear Reader, right at the top of the page. To subscribe, point your mouse at “Kiss My Inbox” and enter your e.mail address, then click the button that reads “Sign me up!” If you haven’t subscribed, you need to do it now.

Let me tell you why.

Unless you’ve been visiting the planet Pluto over the past week, you’ve probably noticed that Facebook is making lots of changes to its platform, all in the name of enhancing things like “user experience” and “interaction.” What this probably means for you is one of two things: 1. You now avoid Facebook because you get a headache just looking at it; or 2. You spend time there but miss lots of things you used to see with regularity. In recent days, I’ve subscribed to many new blogs directly, blogs I used to read casually through links on Facebook, because I don’t want to miss posts I might like to read. I have a few more e-mails to deal with every day, but I’m not missing anything. Plus, I’m supporting people I’ve grown to like because of what they have to say. Regardless of what Facebook does in the future to further mystify the process of “user experience” and “interaction,” I’m plugged in to the things I care about outside the Facebook platform.

If you enjoy reading this blog or any other one out there, subscribing to it ensures that you see every post. You don’t have to open each e-mail, but  you can make your own reading decisions instead of having Facebook dictate whether or not you see things in the first place. Besides, you don’t want to miss chances to vote on important things, do you? And, speaking of voting……….

Me if I share your e-mail address with anyone. Ever.

In the upper-left hand corner of the blog, a new tab called “Featured Posts” offers some of my favorite entries of all time for new visitors who may want to get a feel for my writing. The scorching series I wrote a couple of weeks ago to explain why MTM and I don’t have kids is the only thing I’ve selected for the Featured Posts page. I think it’s some of the best writing I’ve ever done.

Once I start trying to choose additional posts, my brain freezes. It’s like being shown almost 600 pairs of shoes at one time and being asked to pick 10. IMPOSSIBLE for me.

Save me from myself, Dear Reader. What’s your favorite post I’ve ever written? Why did it stick with you? Even if you don’t remember the title, a few words about a meaningful post will get me cracking. And, in case you’re brand spanking new, here’s a short list of links to some other posts I like but don’t know if they are deserving of a feature. Maybe one of these will help even the newest reader cast a vote:

Please vote for your Featured Post by making a comment. To give you further incentive to vote, your name will be dropped in the pool for your very own Cootchie-fied post, similar to the ones I wrote last week for Anne Howe, Debbie Hennessy, Tori Nelson, Brett Myers and Angie Mizzell. (Make it hard for me, people. You five should vote, too, and force me to come up with ANOTHER story for you.)

Whether you click the Cootchie multiple times per day or grab it casually, I appreciate your reading this little blog.

The Quotidian Hudson Double Dog Dare

All my life, I have been self conscious about my lack of photography skills. I toyed with taking a class once. When I realized I had to buy a camera that would manually adjust, meaning reading instructions and fiddling with it between every shot, I tossed that stupid idea to the four winds.

Still, I like to look at pictures and photography blogs, because they challenge me to vary the way I view the world around me. My favorite photography blog is The Quotidian Hudson, a daily look at New York’s renowned river. I read it every day, as much for the song lyrics and random stories Robert posts as for his pictures of the Hudson River. Head on over to his blog and check out some of his musings by clicking the link here.

I made the mistake of telling him that I wouldn’t have the nerve to post any pictures of the river, and he issued the Accidental Cootchie Challenge yesterday, taking pictures of the river with his iPhone like that was going to make it all okay for me.

Right.

Well, I’m a hick, and I cannot back down from a double dog dare. So, behold my attempts at river photography from Beacon, New York.

The river is out there, somewhere beyond that cage. (Really, it is a modernist-minimalist boathouse, and MTM insisted that I put it in.)

The Newburgh Beacon Bridge in the setting sun.

Squatters on the river.

My tootsies in the chilly river water. (I stepped over muck and scum for this one, and those dang rocks hurt my feet, so someone had better deem it good.)

Too Much is Just Enough: Double Dog Dares

He Must Have Rocks in His Head

MTM could fit an elephant in our carry-on bag. Really. He is the supreme packing machine. If I want to take ten pairs of shoes and an outfit to go with each of them for a weekend excursion, he can somehow wrangle that excess into the overhead bin. What’s even more impressive is that he can cram all my products into one zip lock plastic bag.

The man is a genius.

And, it doesn’t stop there. He packs all the vitamins, measuring the right number of pills for our various times on the road. He hides extra contact lenses in cracks and crevices for the times when I lose them, something that always happens far from home. It doesn’t satisfy him to hear me say I have my passport. I have to show it to him before he will let me leave the house. The man does not miss a thing. He’s infallible.

Usually.

Yesterday, he failed to pack one tee-tiny doo-dad that is critical to my life blood: the charger for my iPad and iPhone. My iPad has become my only means of blogging these days, especially when I am roaming. Without juice to feed my gadget, my blog streak may be in jeopardy.

I know. I know. Someone is going to post a comment saying, “Well, dummy, why didn’t YOU pack your charger? MTM doesn’t have to do EVERYTHING for you, does he?”

In the packing arena, he does. If he is involved in an excursion, he will not let me touch the baggage, an act that is more utter control freak than thoughtful chivalry. I can drag out the things that go with me, but I cannot arrange them such that the suitcase will close. I never think to use the insides of shoes. I don’t stuff the outside edges where the clothes end and the walls of the bag begin. My proportions are always wonky.

At 4:30am, I was sleepwalking my way through final preparations, and my oppressed brain still thought to tell him to pull my charger out of the wall socket. I saw him do it. I know it wasn’t a sick, twisted dream. Still, it isn’t anywhere. It’s going to take supreme talent to pound out blog posts before my batteries run out of juice.

Can I do it?

Too Much is Just Enough: Gadget Chargers. EVERYWHERE.

In His Own Words

Yesterday, I told the story of my Dad's role in rescuing Charlayne Hunter-Gault from the race riots at the University of Georgia in 1961. And, what do you know! Dad decided to get talkative about the whole thing and tell the story for MTM. Because he doesn't really know what sort of contraption my iPhone is, he didn't realize that I recorded him.

You wanted to meet my Dad. Here’s Roy. In his own words.

Too Much is Just Enough: Getting Things Straight from the Horse’s Mouth


							
Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 18,860 other followers

%d bloggers like this: