Fashion Police

In the last five minutes Phaedra and Bleu have taken to call me, "Momma A." I loath when Phae calls me that! 

The two of them are also my Fashion Consultants. 

According to them my make-up needs fixed, my entire outfit is unapproved, and my shoes are unpractical. I need to pack flip flops, just in case.

I changed clothes, trying to appease a 13 and 10 year old. I come out of the bedroom in shorts. 

Bleu comes running down the hallway, "Where did you get all of those legs? Dang! You have nice legs! But, you don't want to be wearing those shorts because men are going to try to be kissing on them. And, you look like you're going out booty dancing."

Zeesh! Children without filters!!!

This is my final decision.

Memphis Music: Darrington J. Reape

He towers over me when he stands up.  He's wearing a white button-up shirt, a black tie with diagonal stripes and a black vest that matches his tie perfectly, stripes and all.  He's got red hair, Buddy Holly glasses, a rat-tail ponytail, a wedding band on his ring finger but he's not married, and black Converse sneakers.  Darrington sings the hell out of pop music love songs!

I walk in to the Radio Memphis studio to photograph Darrington's Accendo debut. He is warming up, singing a beautiful love song.  Because it is never comfortable to have a stranger stick their camera in your face I like to immediately break the ice, "How did you write such a beautiful love song about me when I only just walked through the door?"

Without skipping a beat he responds, "It all came together as soon as I saw you."

Darrington J. Reape

Weston and Jason with Accendo Media

 

 

Weston, Jason, Darrington, and Brother Doug

That is how simplistic, pure, and smooth his music sounds, like walking through a door.  He music is reminiscent of Jason Mraz or Jack Johnson. Like them, Darrington writes the love songs that women want to hear about themselves.  

Find Darrington on Facebook or YouTube.  

Please do not edit, resize, or crop these photographs.  

Sick Day

I've been making sick for three days. Yesterday I had a day of exhaustion as well as hot and cold chills. Today I stayed home. 

Since I can't keep anything inside my body I haven't eaten today. I went an hour without sickness so I forced myself out of bed to shower and then hobbled my sore body to the kitchen to make a piece of toast. Yesterday, there was a half a loaf of bread in the pantry. This afternoon there is not one slice of bread! What are the Little Rottens doing, Carbo-loading? Jeeze! 

As if on cue the damn pantry door jumps off of it's hinges. Like a drunk man trying to cop a feel it falls on me. Please tell me, how the hell does this happen? 

I mange to deflect the bifold door off of me. It lands in the hallway. So there I am with one arm holding my fluffy, red towel on my body, trying to get the dog away from examining the floor door while cursing and wrestling to get the door up before J2 comes home bringing the Saltines, Gatorade, and Pepto I've requested. I can only imagine the string of, "Steve-isms" and 'this is why we can't have nice things' comments when he sees that in this state of sickness I've destroyed his home. 

In the meantime I've gulped down a glass of skim milk. I'll see if milk was a bad choice. 

No Butts About It!

This evening J2 walked out of the bedroom and I push the the door closed, lift up my skirt, and readjust my tank top. The tank top is really long, down to my hips, but had ridden up around my waist. I pull it and wiggle my dress back down quickly. 

Phaedra, who is laying on the bed watching me asks, "What's wrong with your butt?" 

It's flat. Do you like how the suit sags at the bottom?

Completely unselfconscious I respond, "Why? What's wrong with it? It wasn't sunburned or maybe it's a tan line. Is there a scratch on it or my leg? I have mosquito bites on my leg. I dunno. What's wrong with it?" I turn like a dog chasing an imaginary tail.

"No! Nothing's wrong with it! It's just so SMALL! How'd you get it so small? And flat?" Exasperated she yells, "It's so FLAT!" In a teasing tone she torments me, "You ain't got no booty at all!"

I've completed hundreds and thousands of squats in my lifetime and a thousand this year. I've been attempting to achieve donkey booty status and still I got nothin' but torment from a 13 year old! 

No butts about it, there go my aspirations of being a rap-guys' girlfriend. 

Party of Two: J2's Early Birthday

J2 will be celebrating a huge birthday milestone on Sunday!! 

I am leaving for out of town bright and early tomorrow morning. Although he did not want to open his BIG Birthday Surprise present tonight - he wanted to save it for Sunday- he obliged my request. We had a tiny, little birthday party for two consisting of bowls of Samoa Girl Scout ice cream and he opened the gift. 

I've never seen him so excited! Here's the secret picture I snapped of him playing with his new toy. 

Memphis Music: Low Society

In the past week and a half I have seen Low Society perform three times. Yes, I am absolutely bragging! After seeing them for the first time on August 31st at Jack Magoo's on Broad I needed to see them again, and immediately.

Luckily, Radio Memphis hosted Sturgis Nikides and Mandy Lemons the very next night for the Booze & Blues program. While they were in the studio I had the pleasure of pulling up a piece of carpet directly in front of the duo.  

If you have the opportunity of meeting Low Society, you should. They are quiet a dynamic force. Mandy Lemons is a petite woman with an eclectic punk style all of her own. Lemons' hair is blonde like Marilyn, but cut in a fashion that is reminiscent of Bettie. The wing tips of her eyeliner are a virtual Pied Piper trail enticing fans with her brilliance. She is intriguing, radiant, and exudes sultriness. Her voice is a powerful, emotional experience and supernaturally soulful. 

Lemons' bandmate and husband, Sturgis Nikides wears sunglasses, indoors, at night. When he speaks, New York escapes through his voice. He dresses in black. His bare forearms hold colorful sleeved tattoos that dance on his arms as he slides his fingers across the strings of his guitars in the style of Elmore James. Nikides creates foot-stomping delight and electrified splendor with a guitar.

Before he even takes the stage to pick the first note on the guitar the connectivity between him and Lemons is visibly palpable. Together they are seamless. When she takes the microphone and opens her mouth to sing she commands presence. The hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention, receptors ignite all of my senses, and I realize that I am witnessing greatness.

Their music is abundant in the sounds of the past, present, and future of Americana blues, but it specifically encapsulates the shimmering heat of the Deep South. I have an essential, primal need to ingest their dirty, electric, Southern Blues. Simply listening becomes a truly a spiritual experience.  

Just as the graffiti on the bathroom wall in the ladies room at Kudzu's on Monroe in Memphis declares, "There's no society like Low Society!!!"

Visit Low Society at ReverbNation, Facebook, or http://www.screaminblues.com/, and definitely see them live! 

Nerd Alert

Phaedra has been forcing me to quiz her for the past two and a half hours on the Elements. I didn't even study flash cards for Mr. Jenkins' Senior Chemistry test. Phaedra's an 8th grader taking Freshman Science and the test is Friday. She's a complete over achiever!

During the last round of quizzing I scored just over 50% correct and she has memorized all 50 for a 100%. She yelled at me emphasizing my failing grade. Considering I haven't studied or been tested on the Elements in 17 years I'm pretty damn proud of myself. Yep, you're not going to convince me that I didn't pass. 

Phaedra is also pretty awesome.