Dedication and Meandering

My legions of readers have been lamenting my absence for weeks; I've been barraged with E-mails, deluged with topic requests, and overwhelmed by public adulation. And when I say all this, I mean that one person specifically asked when I would post again. Additionally, that one person was me; I asked myself and the answer is "today!" Because there's no time like the past! Because Carpe Dumb (a Latin phrase meaning "fish are stupid"). Because the early writer gets the wormy apple. Because you cross the bridge when you come to the fork in the road.

Is it just me or was Rosa Parks a beautiful woman? Maybe not in a young, hot, Gabrielle Union/Renee Zellweger sort of way, but even in advanced age, she looked elegant, she smiled, she looked formidable and compassionate at the same time. Any man would have been proud to call her his wife. Now that'd be a calendar to have! "Women of the Civil Rights Movement", featuring Rosa Parks, Lorraine Hansberry, Diahann Carroll, Cicely Tyson and this month's centerfold, Angela Davis! Who did I miss? Ruby Dee? Coretta Scott King? Betty Shabazz? Next month, perhaps.

I wish Rosa Parks hadn't been involved in those little tiffs with Outkast or the producers of the movie Barbershop. I'm not blaming her or anyone else, really; they were just unfortunate incidents in an otherwise stellar life. No, not "otherwise". Stellar, period. She helped change the nation. She's someone most of us have never met, but still feel sort of like we're her family. She was an icon without being iconic; she didn't act self-important. We felt like we knew her better than many public figures precisely because she wasn't in the public eye all that much. She seemed like a simple, unpretentious old lady that could have been your grandmother. And even though we know she wasn't really simple and we know how crucial her role in history was and we know she had connections to the NAACP, which is one reason her act of defiance got noticed and publicized, we don't care. She was Rosa. Our Rosa. Goodbye, Rosa. We'll miss you.

But I'm not making this solely a dedication to Rosa Parks. That wouldn't be jarring enough.

The Supreme Court nominee is way too young! Why couldn't Bush have selected Judge Wapner? He's probably in his 80s by now and no less qualified than other recent choices.

How can they run out of hurricane names? Is it against the law to select more? "We would name this one Yvette, but we can't. Wilma was the last one!" I'm sorry, but that doesn't make any sense to me. If you have lots of kids, can you only select up to, say, 14 names and on the 15th, you have to name the baby Child Alpha? Sorry, kid, we made our list in 1994 and we didn't pick any names after "Clarence." They should name a hurricane Adolph; that seems more appropriate than Katrina or Rita or Wilma. Sure, there was a band called Katrina and the Waves, but they didn't seem that bad! It's not like it was Katrina and the Tidal Waves. And Rita was lovely. She was a meter maid! And Wilma never hurt anyone; she just cooked Fred's dinner.

To my legion of reader, are you glad to have me back? I'll answer since only I read this blog:
I suppose so.
I'm walkin' on sunshine. Whoa oh!!