James Brown

All posts tagged James Brown

Ain’t No Mountain High Enough

Published July 19, 2012 by Sandee


Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell had a steamy chemistry.  I read that Marvin Gaye says they didn’t have anything going on.  When I see their video — doesn’t look that way to me!  She was such a cutie, very flirty with him.  They’re sexy to watch.  She’s alive, so animated with personality.  This poor girl died when she was 24 of a brain tumor.  I watched a documentary about her.  Marvin Gaye was devastated by her death.  She experienced much in her short life.  She enrolled in medical school and dated James Brown!

Since it’s all about me — if I had achieved a modicum of her success at that age, I would be dead, too — no disrespect — much love!  Oh the gifts of drugs and liquor I would have happily imbibed as a brash young, conceited and self-centered writer.  I suppose that’s why I did not achieve that success as the sweet sweet universe was protecting its special little Sandee — pah.

So now at the age of 151, I’m transrolling (no, this word isn’t in the dictionary or Wikipedia — I made it up) my Kindle book into a hard copy book, going back and forth, back and forth, back and forth with Amazon’s Create Space ‘specialists’ who hate my rotten guts as I’ve called them 25 times.  But nevertheless I get closer.  So, while we all wait for my monumental achievement, please, if you will, enjoy Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell:

CORRECTION:  Tammi Terrell took premed courses — oops!

A Sword Chinned B**ch’s Romantic List of Music

Published June 28, 2012 by Sandee

The ideal portrayed in love songs is unattainable and frozen in time, static and packaged. Often these songs barely reflect the complexity of sex and relationships.  So I don’t want to hear this kind of music while I’m having sex.  I don’t need all that smooth-talking and flowery music.  If the sentiment expressed in these songs exists between me and the person I’m having sex with then we don’t need the artificial accompaniment.  I might enjoy listening to “love songs” when I’m not having sex however.  A couple of my favorites that might remotely be classified as ‘love songs’ still can’t even be strongly identified with the music typically considered such — ELP’s Still, I Just Wanna Make Love to You by Etta James,  and Girl Blue by the Main Ingredient.

Overall I find love songs too sugary.  The songs I like are wild, passionate, furious and have sensual and infectious rhythmic patterns and beats – isn’t that what great sex should be?  Check out at least a couple of a Sword Chinned Bitch’s songs to have sex to below:

1.   My Thang, by James Brown:  www.youtube.com/watch?v=46ueqMcyfwo

2.   Make Some Room, by Sade:  www.youtube.com/watch?v=YyDBQLUU48A

3.   Crazy Train, by Black Sabbath:  www.youtube.com/watch?v=otdHbA4GlSI

4.   Incantation, Nocturnal Dominion: www.youtube.com/watch?v=0g2v6bAwRk4&feature=related

5.   Moondance, by Summoning:  www.youtube.com/watch?v=eALBAr-aISo

6.   Kingdom Gone, by At the Gates:  www.youtube.com/watch?v=NlRSIFnV-FY

7.   Nar Mataru/God of Emptiness, by Morbid Angel: www.youtube.com/watch?v=K8sBPMqARRE

8.   Poison, by Bell Biv Devoe:  www.youtube.com/watch?v=YejxyaFyUHc

9.   Been a Long Time, by Led Zepplin:  www.youtube.com/watch?v=P14ia9cKwVA

10. Dancing Days, by Led Zepplin :  www.youtube.com/watch?v=YGST7qYvlMw

11.  Rock Lobster, by the B52s (I did it before they did it in the movie!):  www.youtube.com/watch?v=tDZy6-fMCw4

12. Funeral Feast, by Mortician:  www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zv1RE7FUufM

13. Slam, by Onyx:  www.youtube.com/watch?v=TortQoLorZc

Royal Dansk Danish Butter Cookies

Published April 11, 2012 by Sandee

Kindergarten, 1967. Mrs. Simon was my first teacher. Back then, the baby classes had pianos so the teachers could play in accompaniment to Ring Around the Rosies and the Mexican Hat Dance. I was four years old and the only black kid in the class but most of us didn’t know the full extent of race yet. Well, I didn’t know. Later I found out what it was to be black and I was happy about it. It was the sixties. James Brown sang, “Say It Loud, I’m Black and I’m Proud.”My parents were pretty happy about being black too, even though my mother is light. We had a lot of white friends. My dad was an artist.  There aren’t many black people doing that kind of work. The people I met at my dad’s studio and the ones we visited were interesting and cool people that he smoked refer with.

I liked my Kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Simon. I remember her like yesterday – short, slightly jowly with cropped blonde hair. She was kind and played a mean Mexican Hat Dance. I also learned this song in her class:

Once there was an apple tree,

standing still as still can be.

Me me me me me me me.

Do you like my song?

The classroom was bright with all of our artwork hanging up, and with pictures of the alphabet and numbers. We took naps and had milk and cookies. During the breaks, Mrs. Simon would go in the hall and talk to Mrs. Rebison, the teacher of the other kindergarten class. I wish we had breaks like that as adults at work, only thing you wouldn’t drink milk, it would be vodka, gin, or you could pop Ativan. We could drink and drug until we passed out for our ‘naps’. Or we could have sex breaks to relieve work tension. We’d email our requests for sex partners to personnel a week in advance.  I know who I’d choose… Oh, but this isn’t a perfect world.

And who better to illustrate that than my 2nd grade teacher, poor, weird Mrs. Flynn.  Who let that crazy bitch into the school!?   Yes, the bitch was a mental case.  If you touched her, she’d yell, “Don’t touch me!  Don’t ever touch me!”  She was a dumpy woman with a big square head, red hair, and very pale skin.  She kept always on her desk a tin of Royal Dansk Danish Butter Cookies, which she never offered to us kids.  I loved Royal Dansk Danish Butter Cookies, and would eye them covetously, fantasizing about a day when she would change her non-sharing ways.  She ate them anytime she wanted, right in front of us – the buttery pretzel shaped ones, with chunky sugar granules on them.  Her piggish face reminds me of the Nazi female prison commander from the movie “Seven Beauties”.

One day she told us that we weren’t going to practice spelling, or numbers or any of that shit.  Instead she commanded us to run around in circles in the classroom – that’s right, just run around.  Some of the boys took to it immediately and ran around like maniacs, banging into tables, chairs, and into each other, falling down all over the place.  By the end they were all red-faced, sweaty, and ripped up.  And Mrs. Flynn from behind her desk screamed, “Don’t stop, run, run – keep running, yeah!”  She then went back to reading the paper and eating butter cookies.  A few girls ran with abandon as well, their little skirts hiked up in friction around their tights, but I remember the circle of us who just sat there, scared — Martin, Michelle and maybe a couple of others.  A couple of those kids were crying because they knew that this was not normal and that Mrs. Flynn had lost her marbles, and that she was an adult and what were we supposed to do now.  I didn’t cry but sat there staring, freaked.  What a crazy scene!

I think about those stupid kids today, the ones who just ran around enjoying it.  Are these the ones who grew up to take advantage of the moment, to live life to the fullest?  The bungee jumpers, parachuters, and Polar Bear Club members?  Or maybe they’re in prison.  I think I heard that Mrs. Flynn found out that she had a brain tumor.  I think she had just found out and had a nervous breakdown the day she told us to run around.  But still I mean come on! Why take it out on little kids?  But the poor thing probably had a weird time of it with life in general, what with her aversion to being touched and to sharing her Royal Dansk Danish Butter Cookies.

There was Miss Gruenwald in the 3rd grade.  I imagine her being one of the first to change from Miss to Ms.  She was the quintessential early-seventies, modern woman.  The feel I get is that she was around twenty-four years old.  She had long, brown, nineteen seventies hair parted down the middle.  She wore mini skirts and spoke the same foreign language with the teacher across the hall while they smoked cigarettes.  I think it was an Eastern European language.  The other teacher wasn’t as attractive as she was but she had the same kind of hair and dressed similarly.

After elementary school I had Miss Dick in junior high.  What a place to have a name like that?  Miss Dick was my cooking teacher.  The class had stove and sink units and smelled absolutely lovely, like something was always baking.  I looked forward to this class.  Miss Dick made us examine our plates for cracks.  Cracks caught bacteria, Miss Dick had told us, and we should throw any plates with them away.  I always remember that when I look at a cracked plate today but I still eat on it.  A few of the kids would yell her name out emphatically, trying to start shit, but it didn’t work because she was a cupcake of a woman.  She had good manners and a sweet way with children.  Plus, she was pretty and explained how to make oatmeal cookies in a very nice voice.  I felt sorry for her with that name.  Being a junior high school teacher with that name could be a hazard.  These classes harbor fledgling sophomoric humorists.  She should have changed her name to Miss Richard.

There was Miss Di Pierro with the bad breath, and Miss Carboni who stood real straight with her arms stiff at her sides while she sniffed up through her nose for a long time before teaching Greek mythology.  Miss Carboni wore pants mostly.  And Mr. Levy had Tourette’s Syndrome, but the children didn’t know what it was back then.

There are a couple of others that I could add to the list of ones who stick out more to me.  But these are the main ones.  I can’t say any of them gave me anything that I carry with me now except for some fond and kooky memories.

Who are some of your favorite teachers? What strange classroom memories do you have?