Scratchy Glitter

Observations for the easily irritated.

Category: Unwanted Reviews

Creepy and Eerie: Serge Lutens Iris Silver Mist

black and white gray grey smooth

Photo by rawpixel.com on Pexels.com

Continuing our exploration of misty fragrances in general, and iris perfumes in particular, how could we omit one named Iris Silver Mist?

Serge Lutens may be the most esteemed genius perfumer currently working. His scents are considered works of art, but they are often compared to pictures you admire in a museum, but wouldn’t necessarily want hanging in your home. ISM is no exception.

Various reviewers have said that Iris Silver Mist should be worn by:

  1. Cathy’s ghost in Wuthering Heights
  2. a Star Wars stormtrooper
  3. a Terminator cyborg
  4. a character in Frank Herbert’s Dune
  5. the White Witch of Narnia
  6. various Harry Potter characters–a. Dumbledore, b. a Dementor, or c. Lord Voldemort himself (yes, Nick, I said his name)

So you can see that this perfume takes a lot of living up to.

Most reviewers say that it smells like roots and dirt in the opening. I don’t get that, probably because I’m not a gardener. What I get is a well-blended but spare mix of iris, incense, and sandalwood, cold and extremely austere. I love it, but the thing about it is, well, the strange effect it has on my emotions. An effect I find hard to explain.

OK, the analogy just occurred to me. It’s like Clive Barker’s writing. Barker is a horror writer beyond compare, and I own a lot of his stuff, but I don’t think I’ve read any of it more than once. It just creeps me out too much. The stuff in it is utterly implausible (and Barker himself doesn’t actually believe in any of that occult nonsense), but I feel like if I read it too much, I would believe in it. And then I’d go insane.

How could a perfume, as coldly beautiful as it is, have a similar effect? Who knows? I just know that Iris Silver Mist is the opposite of a comfort scent for me–a discomfort scent, if you will. It makes me nervous. It’s what my evil twin would wear. Fittingly, Rom hates it more than any other perfume I’ve tried. He literally ran out the door the first time he smelled it.

Let’s stop talking about it now, shall we?

STUFF OTHER THAN IRIS SILVER MIST

Taco John’s has finally removed their one wobbly table with the two (2) wobbly chairs. Yes, I know this because I without-fail always picked that one to sit at.

Ad at Taco John’s–“Potato Ole’s. Call them crispy, golden slices of heaven.” OK, if you insist.

Another ad (yes, Taco John’s is all I did today, other than buy some body wash, after a lengthy discussion of the coupon policies of CVS)–“Upgrade your drink to medium or large, scan the code on the cup, and enter to win food, Cabela’s gear, or a Yellowstone adventure trip!” Hint: if the Cabela’s gear I hope to win (not that I will, having no smartphone to scan with) is just clothes, I’m not the right candidate for a Yellowstone adventure trip. Or any other adventure trip, really. OK, or any adventure whatsoever.

EXCEPT, OF COURSE…

…the adventure that is the Presidency! Vote for me! I’m the Outsider! And yet a Radical Centrist, at the same time! How do I manage it?

 

 

 

Nothing But Blue Skies: Hermes Hiris

nature sky clouds blue

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Continuing our exploration of dusky, bluish scents–Iris was recommended to me, as well as violet. These two are what are referred to as “blue florals.” I love these cool, powdery notes–iris more than violet, since it isn’t as sweet. My favorite color of iris is the lavender-blue type, but Hiris is like a sky-blue iris (if such a thing exists) set off by fluffy white clouds.

As a child, I asked, as all kids do, “Why is the sky blue?,” but the answer never satisfied me. Sure, the light in the visible spectrum reflects mainly the blue wavelength (or something like that, and frankly, I’ve had too much apple ale to look it up), but why?  Hiris doesn’t provide an answer, but perhaps its beauty is answer enough.

Hiris (the in the name harks back to Hermes, known mostly for purses and scarves, but also a damn fine fragrance house) was created by Olivia Giacobetti in 1999. I first tried it in 2004, and disliked it heartily. It reminded me of mashed turnips. The scent of iris is created by the roots (known as orris) rather than the flowers, so I suppose that’s appropriate, but I don’t like turnips. It took many years for me to appreciate this fragrance, but now I love it. No turnips, just an airy, casual-but-sophisticated scent, so elegant, but not fussy. It’s very “blue” in feel, and blue is my favorite color.

BUT MEANWHILE…

Vote for me! I’m the Outsider! (Yes, now I capitalized it!) If elected, I promise to nominate Supreme Court justices for their ability, not for how they’ll vote on a given political question. Won’t that be fun?

Yes, I’m making a mockery of the democratic process. Thanks for asking.

Also…people who came on board recently have been puzzled by the tone of this blog. Just assume that nothing is serious, except for the perfume reviews.

AND ALSO…

…Halloween merchandise was spotted in the stores, like, 2 weeks ago, but I was too deathly weary to report it.

Vintage Jewelry: Balenciaga Le Dix

gold pearl and rose gold flower necklace

Photo by Scott Webb on Pexels.com

Continuing our exploration of “dusky” perfumes, Le Dix was recommended to me as a powdery fragrance with a violet aspect. I don’t get violet, and I get only a bit of powder. What I do get is the scent of my mother’s jewelry box in the late 50’s–one of my earliest memories.

I did not come up with this comparison–I read it in Tessture’s review of this scent on makeupalley–but when I read that review, it brought this forgotten memory vividly to mind. I would paw through my mother’s jewelry as she got ready to go out, struck by the smell of old metal–not exactly pleasant, but certainly intriguing. At this stage in her life, it would have been mostly cheap costume jewelry–my favorite piece was a necklace of some type of seeds dyed bright green, to give you an example.

Le Dix begins with a whoosh of aldehydes, a la Chanel No. 5. I have never been able to wear No. 5–it smells like urine on plastic to me–and LD is blessedly free of that, but it does start out very “perfumey.” (Ironically, this effect, which seems so old-fashioned now, was considered ultra-modern when No. 5 came out in 1921, and was thoroughly mainstream by the time Le Dix came out in 1947.) Then come a few powdery dried-up flowers, then quite a nice sandalwood, which forms the main body of the fragrance. But that tinge of metal persists from start to finish, which makes the scent very evocative to me (the jewel-box effect) but also very dated (all the jewelry in this box is so retro, it could only be worn ironically). So LD is certainly interesting to sniff, but not something I’m interested in wearing.

Le Dix was officially discontinued to make way for the new Balenciaga Paris (which I have not tried), but bottles can still be found online.

FURTHER NOTES ON COSMO

I did give Cosmopolitan magazine a certain amount of slack (though not much, as you can tell by the previous post) for slang-they-think-is-hip. I used to read it quite a bit when I was still their target audience (well, their target audience was never exactly a bookworm in glasses and band t-shirts, but anyway…), and then they thought it was cool to use a lot of French (“be a soupcon more self-protective”) and to italicize everything. However, I must take issue with their use of the term “inspo.” (“So what’s your inspo for this?”) Of course, no one these days has time to say the whole thing, so “inspo” will have to fill in until we come up with the “inspiration” emoji. After all, we already have a “sarcasm” emoji, which has an expression I’ve seen on Nick’s face countless times.

OTHER THINGS I TAKE ISSUE WITH

It is close enough to the election for the political memes to start popping up on Facebook. Be advised that I ruthlessly delete all posts from either extreme. So, whether you think that Christianity is what’s wrong with this country, or you think that the truth can only be found on Fox and Breitbart, out upon you! A pox on both your houses! I feel a bit guilty (“Aren’t I avoiding all viewpoints that don’t agree with mine, and thus perpetuating the problem?”), but there seems to be no one out there who does agree with me, so it’s a guilt I can live with.  Signed, A Radical Centrist.

Lilting & Joyous

close up of pink baby booties

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Note: The above is what came up when I searched photos for “booty.”

“Lilting and joyous” is how reader T.R. described goldfinches, and said “Just like you!” For the record, Rom said the bird that most resembles me is the mockingbird. That’s what I really wanted to illustrate this post with, but no luck.

DISASSEMBLING COSMO

I bought the copy of Cosmo I mentioned in the last post, and promptly forgot it on the bus. “Well, I don’t care enough to pay another $5 for another one,” I announced to Rom. Yes, I bought it the next day. Because stupid persistence had been activated.

They are having a Steamy Story contest. I could win $10,000 and a private consultation with a best-selling romance author! Imagine how surprised she’ll be when she learns I’m not in my 20’s! The rules state that the story should “have a badass heroine, take place in the present time, and have a happy-ever-after ending.” I can see the book cover now–“Bad Ass! Her ass was bad!”

But on to asses, bad or otherwise. You are now entering…BOOTY MANIA! Involving “glitter-dipped bums poppin’ on social.” Was it scratchy glitter? Other observations: “Juicy backsides refuse to quit.” “The cultural viewfinder is focused on the rear view.” “By 2014, it seemed perfectly normal for fitness stars to popularize butt selfies on Instagram.” It doesn’t seem perfectly normal to me. Of course, I’m not on Instagram. “Donks are rarely censored on social media, so they can proliferate unchecked.” How often must I say it–JUST BECAUSE YOU CAN, DOESN’T MEAN YOU SHOULD. Let your butt proliferate unchecked, that is. “Fitfluencers readily admit that butt photos get the most likes.” Fitfluencers? Really? “Today’s vast buttscape includes both smaller and fuller figures, but experts warn that striving for an ultra-ripe peach could become a harmful endeavor. Embrace your butt–without going overboard.” It’s hard to embrace your butt.

THE BEST BOOTY LOOT

Yes, there are products. Exfoliant! I have to say, I’ve never thought of exfoliating that area. Butt masks! “These are safe to wear under undies for up to an hour a day.” I want to know what’s in them that makes them unsafe to wear longer. Butt cream! “Shimmery skin and an addictive smell hook fans of this balm.” Write your own punch line. Don’t make me do it all.

OTHER COVER STORIES

“V-Time is the New Me Time. How to Give Your Lady Parts Some TLC.”

“5 Signs He’s Just Using You.” Sign #1–if he strikes up a conversation after he sees you reading about booties and lady parts in Cosmo.

“We want to hear how V-Time is the new Me Time!” you’re clamoring at this point. Well, it involves, you guessed it, products. Exfoliant! Is there anything that can’t be exfoliated? “Body and V-Zone Soap.” Um, I was already doing that. “Spray Bay Bay–support and hydrate your Queen V.” I was unaware of my royal status, but I’m all for supporting it. Oil! “Illuminates, for a happy, healthy glow below!” So now it’s glowing? Are we supposed to use it for a reading light?

MORE-TASTEFUL PRODUCT NEWS

The other day, the bus driver said, “You always smell so beautiful!” (Frederic Malle’s Portrait of a Lady, described by one Fragrantica member as “the poster child for melodramatic dark rose scents”), and sadly said she used to wear Victoria’s Secret Divine, which has been discontinued. I did a bit of research, and the next time I see her, I’m going to recommend Bulgari’s Omnia Crystalline.

NOTE: When I write perfume reviews, I always title the post accordingly, so anyone doing a search for that fragrance can find it. But I also tack on additional content after the review. So anyone who’s been skipping posts when they see it’s a perfume review (Nick stops in the midst of slinking away) may want to think twice. (“I don’t even think once,” Nick says, flicking his scaly tail.) Now I have to go dip my butt in glitter.

 

Sphinx of Black Quartz, Judge My Vow

This was presented as a sentence that uses all letters of the alphabet, like “The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog,” but is, of course, way cooler. This made me think that maybe I should come up with such a sentence. Maybe you should, too. Any I receive will receive the reward of being published here, which, you must admit, is a rare reward. (Of course, you must first nail down your “x” and “z” words, and build the sentence from there.)

THE GOING RATE

–Rate for not saying anything about Trump: $130,000 (Stormy)

–Rate for saying good things about Trump: $180,000 (Omarosa)

Of course, saying good things involves more effort than not saying anything, so it’s only fair.

CRITIQUE OF TED NUGENT LYRICS

Leaving aside “Wang Dang Sweet Poontang” (“Wang dang, what a sweet poontang, she looks so sweet while she’s yankin’ my meat”), there’s “Sweet Sally”:

“Sweet Sally, she’s a friend of mine

Her long legs in an evening gown

Her black hair just hangin’ down

Sweet Sally likes it double-time

Sweet Sally likes it all the time

Sweet Sally, she’s a friend of mine”

I detect a certain shallowness in this friendship.

COSMO HOROSCOPE, 1984

You thought I’d forgotten these, didn’t you? Anyway, here’s

Beauty for Libra: “Stay just as sweet (and wanton) as you are, but don’t neglect grooming; manicured hands, squeaky-clean hair enhance your witchery.” Yes, clean hair always enhances a woman’s witchery.

And speaking of Cosmopolitan, this month’s cover features “Booty Mania! Belfies, butt facials, and more!” Now, my butt can hold its own in any competition, but you won’t be seeing pictures of it on Facebook. Though I am curious as to what a “butt facial” might involve (even though it reminds me of an unfortunate South Park episode). Plus, one shudders to think what “and more!” might be. OK, I’ll look at the article at Walgreen’s tomorrow. Maybe I’ll actually buy the issue, so I can report back to you. You people are so demanding.

Looking back at previous posts, I see that in May 2013, someone said they would “pay to see me drunk.” Unfortunately, I didn’t note who that was. Is the offer still valid?

And I forgot to add a picture to this post before I started it, so…

ancient art cosmos dark

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

 

Domination, Donald Trump, Donuts

bread food sandwich wood

Photo by Steyn Viljoen on Pexels.com

…is not what this post is about, but a list of my frequently-used tags (do I write a lot about those things? really?) on the side of my page showed them, and the juxtaposition amused me. Like my music collection, in which “Catholic Communion Classics” is next to “More Cowbell.”

Disclaimer: Nick paid for this post with dinner and a movie, and is, I’m sure, already fretting because his name is not in the title. He will have to settle for a subtitle:

DINNER AND THE MOVIES WITH NICK

And not even a very good subtitle.

Nick may think that he can change from his human to his beast-shape at will, but that actually occurs only when will it, which does not always work to his advantage. So it was in the form of a man that he came to pick me up Sunday evening. I had invited myself along to see The Big Lebowski, his favorite movie, basically because I wanted to know what the big deal was. And Nick was too much of a gentleman to say, “No, you can’t come, you’ll spoil the mood.”

Our dinner party also consisted of Nick’s wife J. (I’d add her middle initial, but I don’t know it), their children Thing One and Thing Two, and Nick’s friend Officer A. B. Nick’s wife was eight months and three weeks pregnant with Thing Three, and I kept thinking, What if she goes into labor right here? Well, there are two police officers here, I guess they’d know what to do. Actually, most men know more about childbirth than I do.

If J. had gone into labor, it would be because there were two birthday parties going on at Hacienda that night, and employees are required to come to the table and clap and sing, and they were VERY LOUD. I was about ready to run out the door myself.

Nick, whose idea of a good time apparently involves trying to make me eat food I dislike, kept asking me why I don’t like salsa, to the point of insisting that this post include the explanation. I don’t know why, since I told him why right then and there. It’s because it looks like vomit. This also applies to gazpacho (I once actually saw someone vomit into gazpacho, and it looked no different afterwards than it had before), and re-fried beans, which look more like cat vomit. If anyone now feels they’ll never eat any of those again, they can just blame Nick, which is a good policy anyway. I tried dipping my chips into ranch dressing, when that option was made available, but it seemed pointless.

Before the food arrived and gave me something to do (since I don’t talk much), I did the usual social-event self-monitoring–OK, now you’ve looked at that person long enough, it’s time to look at someone else, or they’ll think you’re staring at them. If Nick has the keen peripheral vision he’d like me to think he has, he would have noticed that I did stare at him quite a bit (he was sitting next to me), and assumed I was magnetized by his good looks. I was actually wondering if a light-colored fleck on his cheek was a chip crumb or a gray hair in his beard. Oh well, by now it’s either washed off in the shower, or not. I’ll have to remember to check next time.

Thing Two, The Destroyer of Crayons, got free french fries because his food was late. Thing One, The Gazer at Screens, wasn’t sure this was fair.

Nick protected me from an ant on my plate, even though he had sore fingers from being bitten by a folding chair earlier. See, there is an officer there when you need one. Even if he lost a fight with a folding chair.

J. and the kids went home (because this movie is soooo not suitable for children), and the rest of us headed for the theater.

I didn’t really think I’d like The Big Lebowski, but I actually did. It is dopey, but a lot of intelligence went into its making. Did you know:

–“Directing” Jeff Bridges consisted of him going up to the director before each scene and saying, “Did the Dude burn one before this happens?” Since the answer was usually yes, he would get ready by rubbing his eyes until they were bloodshot.

–A lot of the Dude’s distinctive clothes were actually Bridges’ own. Sure, it all looks like it came from Goodwill, but you know the Dude would be selective about his Goodwill shopping.

–The dream sequences were lit to make them bright and sharp, the Dude’s apartment was made seedy-looking (insofar as a bungalow in Los Angeles can be made so) with grittier lighting, and the bridge between the two was the lighting they used for the L.A. skyline shots, which used the orangey-type streetlights rather than the cold bluish kind. So it, to paraphrase the Dude, tied the look together.

–Walter’s repeated admonitions to Donny to “shut the fack up” was an inside joke about Steve Buscemi’s character in Fargo, who never stopped talking.

Nick and I shared a tub of popcorn (which I hadn’t had since I retired). Once we reached into the tub at the same time and our hands touched. Yikes, cooties!!!!!

Oh, I also liked (most of) the music, especially “Dead Flowers” at the end, although it would have been better by the Stones themselves. So, all in all, thanks be to Nick, who, I am reasonably sure, would not forget to put roses on my grave.

 

The Whole Violet Plant: Borsari Violetta di Parma

beautiful bloom blooming blossom

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Today is National Lipstick Day, and I’m spending it in Vintage Pink gloss. (I am a true boomer, and associate real lipstick with my mother’s generation.) “Vintage” is a fitting concept for exploring Violetta di Parma, a fragrance which debuted in 1870. (It actually predated that by about half a century, having been originally created for Marie-Louise of Austria and Parma, Napoleon’s second wife. 1870 was the year it became commercially available.) (Disclaimer: Borsari Violetta di Parma was actually discontinued in 2014. A company called Jewel’s Joy then purchased the name and reformulated the scent, giving it “youthful actuality,” whatever that is. This review is for the Borsari original, which can still be found online. All hail the Internet!)

If African Violet is just the flowers, ma’am, and Devon Violets is flowers + green leaves, Violetta di Parma is the whole thing. Green leafy notes, sweet but somehow un-powdery violet, and just a bit of woodsiness at the base. It reminds me of one of those botanist’s drawings of the violet plant, showcasing each part of the plant in turn, including the stems and roots. It is very natural-smelling, which makes it seem very modern, since the current trend in scent is “non-perfumey.” I sometimes think we can blame the boomers for that, too, or at least the hippies. I always liked perfume in all its forms, but I grew up amidst classmates who wore “just the natural oils, man.” All cultural analysis aside, VdP is a brilliant depiction of violet, and the first thing I would recommend to any lover of that note. My cat Glamour, for instance, who insists on Rom giving her a violet leaf to eat every morning, and is intensely interested in any violet perfume I sample.

Side note: Marie Louise was obsessed with violets, as I am with roses, and often wrote in violet ink. Perhaps I should start writing in red ink.

MCDONALD’S REPORT!

Not satisfied with turning the interior into something, well, unique, in its Vintage Boomer Mid-Century Modernity, the McDonalds on St Joe is now remodeling the outside. Who knows what wonders are to come? It seems ill-advised to remodel the exterior after the interior, but what do I know? I do know that one piece of machinery (some type of hydraulic lift that lets you move in all directions without climbing a ladder) had a sign written in magic marker saying “Cold Coal Chamber.–‘Monkey'”. Was this equipment somehow coal-powered? How could coal power anything if it was cold? Who is “Monkey,” and how, exactly, would a monkey be involved? Mysteries abound.

CELEBRITY NEWS

…is something you’ll next-to-never hear from me, but Cardi B named her new baby “Kulture.” I don’t really think we should legislate what people are allowed to name their kids, but it’s tempting. Of course, we can’t really blame the mother, whose first name is apparently “Cardigan.”

The ever-eclectic Rom is playing En Vogue singing “Free Your Mind and the Rest Will Follow.” I guess they’re not going to admit that the original sentiment was “Free Your Mind and Your Ass Will Follow,” which I first heard from Parliament or Funkadelic. One of those George Clinton outfits, anyway.

 

 

Green and Purple: Devon Violets

 

 

background beautiful bloom blooming

Photo by Lukas on Pexels.com

Our exploration of violet continues today with Devon Violets, which has been around since the 1920’s and is still being made in Devon. You can find antique bottles, with violets hand-painted on them, on Ebay, if you’re one of those mysterious people who collects empty perfume bottles.

DV is exceedingly green, especially in the beginning. The violet gets more prominent as it goes on, but the greenness never really leaves. It’s as if you grabbed a fistful of violets and got a handful of grass along with them. So how you feel about this one would depend on whether you like green notes, which I do. DV doesn’t last very long, but it is very cheap, so you can reapply freely. I like it, but as with African Violet, it’s a bit too sweet to suit me (although not quite as sweet as AV).

Today has been a heavy sampling day–I have 4 perfumes on. No, I did not go out like this.

AND SPEAKING OF SMELL…

Ad for dry shampoo–“Makes your hair smell fresh on the days you don’t wash it.” Or you could just wash your hair.

The ads for Febreze saying you can use it to freshen your winter coat or upholstery are questionable enough, but I saw one saying you can use it to get extra days of wear out of your PANTS. Your PANTS, people. Now I am going to look askance at anyone I see buying Febreze.

Violets In Powdered Sugar: Attar Bazaar African Violet

purple hydrangeas

Photo by K B on Pexels.com

First off, HURRAY for a free photo service even I can navigate!

In case you couldn’t read the suddenly-tiny print in the last post (no, I wasn’t trying to sneak the information in–apparently cutting-and-pasting song lyrics off Google is not as clever an idea as I thought it was), I’m going to include the occasional perfume review. And if anyone has a perfume-related question (“I want a perfume that smells like X” or “I can’t find my favorite scent anymore, now what?”), please ask. Fragrance is one of my “special interests,” as we say in the autism biz. (“Obsession” sounds so judgmental, doesn’t it?) (No, I did not intend a pun on the perfume name Obsession.) I suppose this knowledge can now expand to fill the space once occupied by NCIC codes and NIMS definitions.

I’ve always wanted a “signature scent”–“me in a bottle,” what could be more romantic? Sure, also self-absorbed, but in a romantic way! Frustrated by my inability to find something that fit both my personality and preferences, I turned to my husband for help. Rom, of course, knows me better than anyone. It could be argued that he knows me better than I know myself. (It would be argued, in fact. We tend to be argumentative.) He said I should smell like “cool, misty dusk in an interesting place.” (Could he be more romantic?) I asked the fragrance fans at MakeupAlley for help, and they said this mood was best achieved by notes of violet, iris, sandalwood, oakmoss, powder, and/or incense. They recommended 13 specific perfumes, the first of which we deal with today.

Attar Bazaar was started in 1980, and they offer inexpensive perfume oils, mostly in an Oriental vein (incense, patchouli, woods, resins). But they do have a few florals, hence African Violet.

I find AV a bit screechy when first applied–violet is a high-pitched note to begin with, so the beginning is a little shrill. It quickly settles, though, into a candied sweetness that makes me think, not of violets with sugar crystals, but violets dredged in powdered sugar. There’s a creaminess to it, a velvety softness. I detect no other notes (unless you want to call sugar a note)–no leafy green notes, no woods–just the violet flowers themselves. So if you are a violet purist and just want the sweet stuff, I recommend this. Also, there are not many violet scents in an oil formulation, so if you prefer that to an alcohol-based scent, definitely check this one out. For my own purposes, I found it a bit too sweet.

By the way, my reviews are based on samples I paid for myself, and I am not paid for reviews. Of course, I’m not paid for anything else on here, either.

Now let’s move on to…

WORLD EMOJI DAY? REALLY?

“Facebook salutes the tiny symbols that have changed the way we communicate.” Yeah, I guess. And I’m wondering how long it will be before texting eliminates punctuation. It’s already made it uncool, in the same way that paying for stuff with actual cash is uncool.

 

 

 

 

Telling People Why They’re Wrong

…a service we’ve (OK, I’ve) provided for over 5 years.

CRITICIZING THE LYRICS OF MICK JAGGER

Sure, he’s written world-famous lyrics, but I CANNOT BE STOPPED.

–“She was more than beautiful

Closer to ethereal

With a kind of down-to-earth flavor”

You can’t be both ethereal and down-to-earth. They are opposites.

But I take issue with every verse of “Fool To Cry,” my second-to-least-favorite Stones song. (My very least-favorite is “Emotional Rescue,” which is so bad it embarrasses me to hear it.)

OK, in the first verse, his daughter sits on his knee and says, “Daddy, you’re a fool to cry.” Any child young enough to sit on her father’s lap does not have the worldly wisdom to make a remark like that.

In the second verse, we learn that he has a woman who “lives in a poor part of town.” She, too, advises him that he’s a fool to cry. (Actin’ the fool, as it were.) WHY IS YOUR WOMAN STILL LIVING IN A POOR PART OF TOWN? YOU’RE A RICH ROCK STAR. BUY HER A MANSION. Or marry her and move her into your mansion. That would be more cost-effective.

In the third verse, even his friends state that he’s a fool to cry. I find it hard to believe that Mick Jagger’s friends give him philosophical advice. Mick Jagger’s friends say things like,

“Hey, what’s the matter, man?
We’re gonna come around at twelve
With some Puerto Rican girls that’re just dyin’ to meet you
We’re gonna bring a case of wine
Hey, let’s go mess and fool around
You know, like we used to”
In case you think I do nothing but complain, my favorite Stones songs are “Paint It Black,” followed by “Jumpin’ Jack Flash.” I was born in a cross-fire hurricane, after all.
ROCK AND ROLL WILL NEVER DIE
…is wishful thinking, just like “Big bands will come back.” Nevertheless (and ever the more), I have a new Blue Oyster Cult t-shirt. It only has the band’s logo on it, not the name. The other day, the bus driver looked at my shirt and said, “Hawkwind?” No, but good guess.
MORE ADVERTISING ABOMINATIONS
Triscuits are trying to get you to just call them “‘–scuits.” Resist them. Also, “so you can Meijer any way you want” is to be avoided. Sure, it tells you how to pronounce it, but that could be accomplished without turning it into a verb.
A FINAL WARNING
S.G. will start sporadically featuring PERFUME REVIEWS. No, no one was saying, “World Leader, can’t you please include perfume reviews?” (Although I know that a few of you would be interested.) Yes, I should probably start a second blog for that purpose. No, I’m not going to actually do so. Partly because I’m too lazy and incompetent to manage more than one blog, and partly because I don’t plan to do this regularly. I’m not a collector, just a person on a signature-scent quest that seems to be lifelong.
I actually have been doing this informally for some time. In the unlikely event you want to read my reviews of a variety of cosmetic products, check out

MakeupAlley, where I have posted as Snakeskin, Wyrmiax, and, currently, CobraRose.

Cat Esmerelda thinks I have spent enough time writing this, and need to attend to her strange and varied needs.

 

%d bloggers like this: