Cajun Woman

for Starlight Dances

Looking for an answer, waiting on a clue,
making myself dizzy thinking up new things to do.
My cup runneth over; now it’s spilled out on the floor.
Making messes, I can do for sure.

Asking more fool questions, needing to know why,
making myself crazy searching for an alibi.
My life’s far from empty. Now, that much is true.
What’s the point in worrying, when all I need is you.

Cajun woman, what’s that cooking? It smells good to me.
Nothing else we need to do, nobody else to see.
All the spice we need in this life is right here at hand;
what else do we need to understand?
Cajun woman, kiss your lover man.

Searching for a guru, wanting some grand scheme,
making myself nervous somewhere unknown in between.
My front lawn needs mowing, that I guarantee;
What else right now could my purpose be?

Wanting ever after, somehow cheating death,
giving myself indigestion trying to hold my breath.
Who cares what might happen when my time is through?
Right now, baby, all I need is you.

Cajun woman, what’s that cooking in your bright red pot?
What do we care what the world thinks of the things we’ve got?
Everything we’ll ever need is right here in our hands;
what else do we need to understand?
Cajun woman, kiss your lover man.

02 AUG 2006

Share This:

Dear Coca-Cola

Dear Coca-Cola:

Please take a minute to review your situation. I realize that it must seem important to keep up with the Joneses (and I mean that figuratively; I don’t seriously believe the Jones Soda company is any significant threat to you), but REALLY. There are now so many different Coca-Cola products on the market (the latest being Coca-Cola Blak, which by the way tastes like a badly mixed Kahlua and Coke) that it is getting nearly impossible to walk into a convenience store and exit carrying a Coke and a pack of cigarettes. Not that it’s your business about the cigarettes, but …

I should think that your experience with “New” Coke (and admit it, you blew it there and in some tizzy over celebrity endorsements for Pepsi you listened to somebody who probably should have been committed and “changed” the Coke formula) would have taught you something. Keeping up with the Joneses did not help you there — and in fact, probably started Michael Jackson’s downward spiral thanks to his endorsement of your competitor’s product. Stick to what you’re good at. Stick to what works. Plain Coke works. Real Coke drinkers (who are your audience anyway) drink it. And isn’t that what you want, anyway? A devoted power base for whom if asked “Is Pepsi OK?” will say “Hell, no.” and drink tap water before substituting anything for a Coke. Those real Coke drinkers don’t need lime, cherry or vanilla varieties. Most of ’em don’t need Diet, Caffeine Free, Caffeine Free Diet, etc. either. Haven’t you noticed? Like the substance that used to be an ingredient in your formula, what you have is STILL pretty damned addictive. So don’t mess with it; don’t gussy it up, don’t change the packaging, the formula or the varieties. They’re simply not necessary. And here’s why:

Coca-Cola, not any other brand of carbonate beverage, is asked for nationwide. When someone requests a soda, soft drink, soda pop, a cold drink or a pop, chances are they mean Coca-Cola. Hell, sometimes ANY kind of soft drink is referred to as a “Coke”. Perhaps that’s because with the exception of Big Shot Rootbeer (which is only available in and around the New Orleans area anyway), and perhaps Verner’s Ginger Ale (likewise geographically limited, albeit to the Midwest rather than Midsouth) Coca-Cola is the most consistently satisfying carbonated beverage ever created. It also, with the aforementioned Big Shot Rootbeer again excepted, is the most logical, statistically preferable additive to any number of alcohol based cocktails. Who asks for an “Rum and RC” or “Jack and Pepsi”? A Bacardi and Tab? Get real.

So think about it, Coca-Cola. Focus on what you’re good at, and forget the short-term, fancy-pants fads and those “Coke drinkers” who think Coke isn’t good enough as is. They are NOT Coke drinkers.

Sincerely,
A Lifelong Coca-Cola Drinker (except for that short stretch of years, when due to the proximity of the Pepsi bottling plant to my grandmother’s house in rural Ohio, I was forced to swill things like Teem).

Share This:

Today at Shoneys I observed

Today at Shoneys I observed
the lemmings at the breakfast bar:
fresh scrubbed from church and
sanctified, their patience thin,
their manner rude.

And that seemed odd;
for were I bound
to meet my maker, in his house,
I’d tread a little softer,
thinking my acts subject
to review.

And if just come from said review
I’d tread my way much softer still,
remembering how far I fell short
compared to those whose sacrifice
kept them from standing
in that line,
dressed up for show,
dressed up to dine.

But I missed services today;
in fact, I have no formal date
each week to meet with the Divine.
So I was quite content to wait
while the waitstaff was crucified
by those whose righteousness
was clear to anyone who looked.

I waited, while my food was cooked,
my coffee poured, my water filled,
by poorly paid and harried staff
who dared not find my eye, and laugh
with me about the peacock crowd
who thought themselves so fine and proud
that their time was worth more than that
of these, their servants, who like me
did not hear from the pulpitry
this morning that they should be shamed
to fill their mouths with holy names
while their hands grasped at mammon’s chains.

I waited, ate my food, and paid.
For all the difference it made,
I left a larger tip than those
who came in their best Sunday clothes.

22 May 2005

Share This:

Dieting

After two days of eating much less food
(and believe me, missing it a great deal)
watching others scarf down rich stuff – how rude!
without giving a thought to how I feel

it seems to me that so many take thin
for granted (especially the young);
once you start fighting gravity – no win –
you look for fat people to stand among.

And in our society, god is youth,
fitness is the most high and holy grail;
oh, woe to the ugly and overweight.

Equating health with size may be a truth,
but as a test, it cannot be pass/fail –
or we all must learn to laugh at our fate.

20 JAN 2003

Share This: