This is a weird time of year. Here in Berkeley it's a gorgeous day, sunny, though chilly. The magnolias are already blooming. It's not spring yet, not even winter. The looming New Year makes a guy think about transitions, the passage of time, new stuff—the usual. The numeral 2005 sounds new—shiny and pristine, just out of the box, wheareas 2004 sounds (already), old, scratched, a little battered, like my camera cellphone (which I bought in 2004).
This blog is one of the transitions for the new year. I've started it This is a weird time of year. Here in Berkeley it's a gorgeous day, sunny, though chilly. The magnolias are already blooming. It's not spring yet, not even winter. The looming New Year makes a guy think about transitions, the passage of time, new stuff—the usual. The numeral 2005 sounds new—shiny and pristine, just out of the box, wheareas 2004 sounds (already), old, scratched, a little battered, like my camera cellphone (which I bought in 2004).
This blog is one This is a weird time of year. Here in Berkeley it's a gorgeous day, sunny, though chilly. The magnolias are already blooming. It's not spring yet, not even winter. The looming New Year makes a guy think about transitions, the passage of time, new stuff—the usual. The numeral 2005 sounds new—shiny and pristine, just out of the box, wheareas 2004 sounds (already), old, scratched, a little battered, like my camera This is a weird time of year. Here in Berkeley it's a gorgeous day, sunny, though chilly. The magnolias are already blooming. It's not spring yet, not even winter. The looming New Year makes a guy think about transitions, the passage of time, new stuff—the usual. The numeral 2005 sounds new—shiny and pristine, just out of the box, wheareas 2004
As I was writing my last coffeeblog post I was sitting at a table at Espresso Roma with Barbara and a group of Jazzerbabes. "Are you writing about us?" one of the 'Babes asked. At the time, I wasn't. But then I started to think about it, why not? There was a cultural phenomenon going on here that goes almost unnoticed. It was indeed noticed by Cyndi Lauper when she sang in the '80's about girls having fun. It was also noted in a recent issue of the New York times magazine where the Red Hat phenomenon was reported. And, if red hats don't do it for her, maybe she's a latent Sweet Potato Queen. As the father of two daughters, now adults, I observed daily for decades that Lauper was right.
This time, however, I am writing about very special categories of girls. The Jazzerbabes are all over 30. (It is even rumored that some of them are over 60, though I find that hard to believe.)
The Cockettes, on the other hand, are (were) actually… guys (mostly). A genderbending performance group of the San Francisco Seventies, most of the Cockettes are still around, and are talented artists. Last weekend I saw a film retrospective by former Cockette Rumi at the Georgi Gallery. In three films, notably "Elevator Girls in Bondage", the girlish need for fun was solidly documented. In fact, some of the actresses were actually… women.
Why, then, would I make the bold assertion that Jazzerbabes actually want to have fun? Puffing and sweating to retro cardio music (Jazzercise®, hence the term Jazzerbabe) doesn't sound like a lot of fun to me. As a long-term observer of girly fun, I can assure you that the J'babes have fun at whatever they do, even extending to Christmas parties and coffee klatches. Yes, and huffing and puffing to the dulcet strains of the Village People.—JDL
Every page now has Seesmic/Disqus video commenting. Scroll to the bottom to see or post video comments. There are also Haloscan comments at the end of each separate blogpost article. To read a text-only version of Jonathan's Coffeeblog on your iPhone or other mobile phone, click here. Or to see the graphics with less text, click here.
