Rainy, lazy Saturday evening. Perfect time to do a little rambling on the blog, I think.

I’ve been spending a lot of time on YouTube lately. YouTube sold to Google for well over a billion dollars, and at first glance, that seems like a ridiculous amount of money to pay someone who is nothing more than a container for videos. But man, do I love it. I punch in the name of some random music video I haven’t seen in twenty years, and BOOM, there it is. Just a rush of memories come flooding back to me and there I am, chin in hand, grinning dumbly…just reminiscing.

Fashion designers have come up with a less-than-zero clothing size, also known as subzero. Let me ask you, what man is attracted to a woman wearing subzero clothes? I mean, I know it’s all a matter of taste, but come on! Who wants to roll around with a woman knowing that at any moment her femur could actually break his skin? These extra thin models do nothing for me. I like women with a little meat on their bones. Overly obese? No. Then we are getting into the area of fetishes, which is okay too. Just not my thing. But wafer thin? Nuh uh. What’s wrong with Rubenesque?

Was listening to Sinatra sing “Glad To Be UnHappy” the other day. “Unrequited love’s a  bore, and I’ve got it pretty bad. But for someone you adore, it’s a pleasure to be sad” Is that true? I think so. I can recall being madly in love with women who didn’t quite feel the same for me. Was it a blow? Sure. But even unreciprocated love feels better than no love at all. Does get old after a while, though? But, if you are lucky, your love for the disinterested fades and eventually your heart falls upon someone who adores you just as much as you adore them. Then…the fireworks truly begin!

I’ve been reading the autobiography by Etta James — “Rage to Survive - The Etta James Story”. First of all, this is one hell of a book. I commented on Dinah Washington’s book a few months ago and stated that it was rather dry and boring sometimes. Perhaps this is because Washington’s book is a biography and doesn’t come directly from the Queen’s mouth. Who knows? But Ms. James tells it like it is. Honest as hell and you’ve got to appreciate that. She was heavy, heavy into drugs. Robbing, stealing from her friends. Singing her ass off at night and trying to score during the day. Heroin is a sonofabitch, let me tell you. I never want to get off on that stuff. It has brought down so many people. I don’t care how good it feels to shoot up. Smack is wack. I’m not done with the book yet, so I am not sure if and when she kicked the habit completely. I’m guessing she did it during the nineties when she went the jazz route. We’ll see. I do appreciate her candor, though. Honesty in depicting your life, displaying every unsavory layer makes for excellent reading, I must admit.

One thing about Etta James. She is a singer. Yes, her voice is powerful, but she does not yell through her songs. I hate these American Idol “singers” who yell and shout and make you wonder why Aretha Franklin would ever allow people to do such heinous things to her music. If you want to know how to sing with power, download a few Etta James tunes. You get goosebumps, not blood trickling out of your ear.

Viola Davis is the greatest American actress most people have not seen or don’t remember. When is she going to get that real meaty part that knocks the world on its ass? I love her. Pit her up against any of the great ones and she’d stand toe to toe with them. She’s the real deal.