Butch Icons – Bookish Butch

Been a while since I…

Did a Wordless Wednesday,

I know technically it’s Thursday,

but,

what the hey:-)

Some stuff from Pinterest,

and,

Tumblr,

and,

such.

First,

Apparently Menswear dog isn’t a female,

but,

undeniably butch,

no?

🙂

Recent fav quotes,

This picture of Henry

with this quote,

“I want a soul mate who can sit me down, shut me up, tell me ten things I don’t already know, and make me laugh. I don’t care what you look like, just turn me on. And if you can do that, I will follow you on bloody stumps through the snow. I will nibble your mukluks with my own teeth. I will do your windows. I will care about your feelings. Just have something in there.” – Henry Rollins

Yep, the man has got it going on,

and,

knows.

Love the place, the fishing, a woman fishing, the jacket,

yep,

Love everything about this:-)

Speaks for itself.

Well,

I guess it might have to be,

renamed,

nearly wordless Wednesday.

Later girls,

Revisiting can be stimulating

Things are almost finished,

I know,

it seems I keep saying that,

but,

these things take time,

patience grasshopper

🙂

Still experiencing problems,

reading,

I mean books,

but,

I’m working my way through,

slowly, slowly,

On Equilibrium,

by John Raulston Saul,

a philosophy book,

for reasonably literate,

non philosophy types,

I think I fit into that category,

haven’t had time to read for a long stretch,

but,

I think I’m going to like it,

I rescued it,

from the fill a bag for ten bucks sale

🙂

Last night,

mom was watching TV,

it was blaring away,

and,

she wanted to watch some,

news show,

about terrorism in the world.

She asked me what I thought,

I told her that next to a show,

about bookstores closing,

all over the world,

that’s the last thing,

I’d want to watch.

So she suggested something,

on Discovery,

called:

All The President’s Men Revisited,

ok,

that was more like it.

I love American history,

and,

politics,

and,

that movie,

which shows,

the power of journalism,

and,

the abuse of power,

good stuff.

This show,

featured interviews,

with Woodward, Bernstein, Redford, Hoffman,

as well as,

John Dean and many other of the President’s men.

I was young,

when all the Watergate stuff,

was going down,

a kid really,

but,

I remember,

as a Canadian looking from outside,

the impact it had,

culturally as well as politically.

I loved Woodward and Bernstein,

as personified by Redford and Hoffman,

they were fantastic,

a study in contrasts,

Bernstein-Hoffman all brash lefty Jew,

Woodward-Redford waspy meticulate calm,

working together,

as young journalists,

to crack,

what would become,

one of the greatest political stories,

of the twentieth century.

So good,

the story,

the movie,

filled with some great character actors,

Jason Robards,

Jack Warden,

Martin Balsam,

Hal Holbrook,

Jane Alexander,

top notch,

if you’ve never seen this movie,

do,

some of Redford’s best work,

as an actor,

from his political “Three Days Of The Condor” period.

This movie stands up,

even Redford’s style is impeccable,

corduroy suits,

long sideburns,

the ties are too wide,

but,

hey that was the time.

I’ve seen this movie,

many times,

in whole or in part,

I discover new things each time.

I hesitate to use the word,

but,

I believe this is,

a masterpiece of cinema,

a great American movie,

from the seventies,

a time of turmoil,

violence and gritty moviemaking.

It is full of thrill and intelligence,

and,

art.

Rent it,

watch it on Netflix,

see it,

worth your time.

You’ll

be entertained,

stimulated,

and,

learn a thing or two,

I did and do,

everytime.

Later girls,

My Summer of Irving?

John Irving,

has a new novel coming out,

on May 8Th!!!!

How cool is that?

a week before,

my birthday,

I know what I’m getting myself,

for my birthday:-)

John Irving

The ‘old’ man is looking good,

seems to be in fine form,

for someone who will soon,

be turning,

seventy!!!

Way to rock the shirt, he’s so butch:-)

His new novel,

In One Person,

is the story of a bisexual man,

Billy Abbott,

through the 50’s, 60’s, 70’s

and into the AIDS crisis of the 80’s.

Abbott is a writer,

in New England,

who wrestles.

Sounds familiar to Irving fans, that bugs some people, familiarity, I’m not one of those people.

Also present are,

quintessential,

Irvingesque elements,

Vienna,

sexual suspect-ness,

etc.

I don’t want to,

read too much about it,

spoil the punch,

it will be great,

coming right after,

my re-reading of,

Cider House Rules,

which I’m still,

working my way through.

Smells like,

a John Irving Summer,

complex,

woodsy,

with a touch of citrus,

and,

danger.

Hmm authors as cologne,

could be a fun game,

Hemingway?

Bay rum,

all the way:-)

Later girls,

A little Wednesday fluff, some Butch Icons

I love John Mellencamp,

I loved him when,

he was,

John Cougar,

I loved him when,

he was John Cougar Mellencamp,

and,

I love him,

since he’s just plain,

John Mellencamp,

cool guy,

Writes great songs,

he knows,

what ‘Hurts so good’,

and that,

‘Everyone needs a hand to hold on to’

Steve McQueen,

my mom’s favourite,

so cool,

way to rock a Cardigan:-)

Paul Newman, so butch,

I mean look,

carefully,

a cat and he’s sewing,

adorable

🙂

A little Wednesday fluff:-)

Later girls,

Leonard Cohen, butch icon

It’s a beautiful day,

sunny and mild,

a perfect January day.

Yesterday,

was a good day,

I’m hoping for two in a row:-)

I’ve started a new book,

Kazuo Ishiguro’s,

An Artist Of The Floating World,

it was laying around,

the bookstore,

and,

since,

I absolutely adored,

Remains Of The Day,

I thought I’d give it,

a go.

Set in the immediate,

aftermath of World War II Japan.

It is the story of an artist,

and his recollections.

I’ll let you know.

On Monday,

I was listening to,

Leonard Cohen’s,

new album,

Old Ideas.

It is new Cohen,

but,

feels,

vintage.

I have a thing for,

Cohen,

one of my icons,

he comes from Montreal,

he’s a poet,

a dapper dresser,

a lover of women,

and what a way,

with words,

gives me chills,

makes me heart,

soar,

or,

ache,

both.

A man of great passion,

From Suzanne,

And she feeds you Tea and oranges

that come all the way from China

And just when you mean to tell her

That you have no love to give her

Then she gets you on her wavelenght

And she lets the river answer

That you’ve always been her lover

And you want to travel with her

And you want to travel blind

And you know that she will trust you

For you’ve touched her perfect body

With your mind.

connection,

real connection.

From Hallelujah,

Baby I’ve been here before

I know this room, I’ve walked this floor

I used to live alone before I knew you.

and this,

Your faith was strong but you needed proof

You saw her bathing on the roof

Her beauty in the moolight overthrew you

love, romance and yes,

a touch of,

fear.

From I’m your Man,

If you want a lover

I’ll do anything you ask me to

And if you want another kind of love

I’ll wear a mask for you

If you want a partner

Take my hand

Or if you want to strike me down in anger

Here I stand

I’m your man

Whatevever you want,

whatever you need,

Leonard knows:-)

From Dance Me To The End Of Love,

Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin

Dance me through the panic ’til I’m gathered safely in

Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove

Dance me to the end of love

He speaks to me,

he’s from,

my neck of the woods,

his voice is gravelly,

he purrs,

he growls,

he’s tough,

he’s tender,

romantic,

carnal.

Plus,

I admit,

I like his face:-)

Thinker,

brooder,

lover,

singer,

poet,

mensch,

butch icon.

Later girls,

A Butch Icon

Oh yeah,

it’s cold,

out there,

positively,

frigid.

Times like these,

you think,

jeez,

imagine if my source,

of central heating,

was a drafty,

fireplace,

like my ancestors,

Brrrr

🙂

Normally, I’m not a big Hydro-Quebec fan, but, nights like these, they get a big thumbs up, also I worry about the homeless and the cats.

The Habs lost,

again,

not ‘our’ year,

I have a feeling,

come Spring,

we’ll all be saying,

“Next Year!!”

like the,

Brooklyn Dodger fans,

of yesteryear:-)

It’s ok,

it’s just a game,

right?

The bookstore was,

very quiet today,

made some tracks,

in my reading,

of,

Graves’,

Goodbye To All That,

more than halfway through.

One interesting thing,

about Graves,

one of his,

public school masters,

was,

George Mallory,

the great climber,

one of my,

Butch Icons.

Butch Icons,

are not,

to be confused,

with,

Butch idols.

Butch icons are,

men,

whose virility,

masculinity,

not,

machismo,

I admire.

Guys like,

Hemingway,

a lover of women,

but,

butch,

a man’s man.

Butch Idols,

are,

kick ass,

butch women.

I know, I know, weird- but, it is My Blog:-)

I like my icons and idols,

to be,

mostly,

dead.

No chance of embarrassing,

sound bites,

on television

<wink>

So,

Mallory,

George Leigh Mallory,

was the son of a preacher man,

Cambridge educated,

and,

an important member,

of three successive,

British expeditions,

to attempt,

to climb,

the top of the world,

Everest.

Mount Everest.

<sigh>

He was a school teacher,

and,

the greatest mountain climber,

of his generation,

some think,

yours truly,

amongst them,

of,

ANY generation.

A family man,

a devoted husband,

and father,

a decorated war hero,

a mensch,

uber mensch.

Also he was a fine,

physical specimen,

George Mallory,

and,

his team,

climbed,

in tweed knickers,

leather boots,

with nails under them,

with ropes,

and,

pick axes,

no microfiber,

tweed, leather and wool.

On his last expedition,

in 1924,

he and his climbing partner,

Andrew ‘Sandy’ Irvine,

were last seen,

very close,

to the summit.

They disappeared in clouds,

and were never seen alive,

again.

For years,

biographers,

climbers,

fans,

have theorised,

that perhaps,

they did reach,

the top of the world.

How could we know for sure?

They did not live,

to tell the tale!

In 1999,

a British expedition,

that included,

a BBC film crew,

set off in search,

of Irvine’s body,

he was carrying,

a camera,

on the ascent,

and,

in it’s undeveloped,

though,

most certainly,

preserved,

film,

may lie the answer,

to whether,

they were the,

first.

They did not find,

Irvine’s body,

or,

the camera,

But,

they found,

George Mallory,

his clothes still bore,

labels,

and,

his personal belongings,

were still,

in his pockets.

One important,

cherished,

personal belonging,

not found,

on Mallory-

the picture of his wife,

Ruth.

He had always said,

he would leave,

her picture,

at the summit.

….

and so the myth lives on,

did he?

didn’t he?

I like to think,

he did,

makes for a better,

story,

don’t you think?

Ruth believed it ’til,

her dying day.

She never remarried.

Thanks for indulging,

my ‘telling’

of a,

Butch Icon.

Later girls,

Virile not macho

The rain cometh,

let us give thanks,

for the rain<sigh>

Been a fair day,

considering the full moon,

is just days away.

I like August,

we might still get,

a small,

heat wave,

but,

the worst is behind us,

I’m already looking,

into some fall clothes,

the students are starting,

to scout for their,

required readings,

that means I’m out of The Catcher In The Rye, The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz, King Lear, The Lord Of The Flies, Animal Farm etc:-)

I finished reading,

my Hemingway today,

love him,

I can imagine,

talking books,

and,

fly fishing with this guy.

I don’t fly fish but, I’d like to someday, just saying

He’s a sensitive man,

and writer,

keen observer,

of human nature,

and,

a cat lover:-)

Flair, panache,

and a,

midwestern earnestness,

about him.

Funny that some,

of my favourite writers,

have this real outdoorsy,

flavour,

about them,

me a city girl,

and all.

I’ll say it again,

Hemingway,

should not,

be dismissed,

as macho,

he is so much more,

nothing wrong with,

virility.

Oh well,

just my opinion.

I have taken,

on,

reading Montaigne,

well,

at least parts,

and I read a little,

Thoreau’s On Civil Disobedience,

a bit of an anarchist,

ole Henry David,

I’ll let you know,

what I think,

right now,

I’m tired.

Later girls,

Hemingway, enlightens my butchness?

Hot day,

I seem to write,

that,

a lot lately,

maybe,

because,

it’s so,

darn hot:-)

I started re-reading,

A Moveable Feast,

by Hemingway,

I’ve read this book,

many times,

and yet,

every time,

I read it,

it is as if,

I have never read it.

There are,

few books,

I re-read,

The World According to Garp,

I’ve read,

three times,

I think,

and yes,

I discover,

things each time,

it is,

a multi-layered plot,

and some things,

I forget,

from one reading,

to the next,

but,

some things,

I anticipate,

I look forward to,

Garp’s conception,

the meeting with Ellen James,

and more,

it takes away,

none,

of my enjoyment,

but,

I expect.

84 Charing Cross Road,

is like a good conversation,

with a friend,

I don’t see often,

and,

everytime,

I think why,

don’t,

we see each other,

more often?

To keep it special,

I guess:-)

But,

with,

Moveable Feast,

it’s different.

I know,

Hemingway,

will write about,

his time,

in Paris,

his writing,

his friendship,

with,

Sylvia Beach,

his honest,

observations,

of,

Gertrude Stein,

and,

F Scott Fitzgerald.

Yet,

each time,

I discover,

a sentence,

a nugget,

that brings,

me to reflection.

Lights up,

something,

that I couldn’t quite see,

a candle flicker,

that illuminates a shadow.

For a few,

maybe even,

more than,

a few,

days,

I have been,

pondering,

a question,

asked by a friend,

of mine.

It is a sincere,

and,

honest question,

why would anyone,

choose,

to wear,

a label?

she was refering,

to Ivan Coyote’s,

brilliant,

writing on the nature,

of the butch beast:-)

and,

of,

my recent identification,

with,

and crushing on,

said writings

Why,

did I wear,

indeed,

embrace a butch label?

I know where,

she’s coming from,

I hope she will corect me and clarify if I am mistaken,

Her position,

is,

many people fight,

their whole lives,

to free themselves,

of labels,

to rise above them,

to say,

I am so much more,

than you think,

than you see,

I won’t gently,

enter into,

the little narrow box,

you’ve constructed,

and reserved for me.

I get that,

I don’t accept,

labels,

that are pinned,

on me,

the labels I wear,

I want,

I like,

I have,

grown enough,

to embrace,

it’s personal.

I’ve never,

wanted to be one,

thing,

I am many things,

as Ani De Franco,

has sung,

I am 32 Flavors and then some

a woman,

a lesbian,

Canadian,

Québécoise,

French,

English,

neither,

both,

fairly well read,

and,

a University dropout,

I am all these things,

and I am butch,

I like the butch,

I have grown into,

I am no caricature,

although sometimes,

I ham it up.

Yeah,

I wear,

boots,

and,

ball caps,

boxer shorts,

and men’s shirts,

I like hockey,

and wouldn’t be,

caught dead wearing,

pink!

I also can’t drive,

neither own,

nor know,

how to use,

power tools,

I like to cook,

and enjoy,

romantic comedies,

Nascar?

I don’t think so!!

I like to lead,

while slow dancing,

and,

open doors for my lady,

but,

she has to drive,

and does,

well.

I like tweed caps,

leather patches,

and to fish,

but,

mostly I walk,

city streets,

I am a bookish butch,

a mass of contradictions,

and for some reason,

I like to call myself,

butch,

I’m also a Taurus,

which is neither here,

nor there.

Hemingway didn’t like,

his generation,

being labeled,

the lost generation,

and yet,

he wrote about it,

and made,

the phrase famous.

made me reflect,

I have no answers,

but,

I like to call myself butch,

and the beauty of it,

is I live in a time,

and place,

where I not only have,

the right to,

but,

also the pride in.

The women’s movement,

Stonewall.

Made it possible.

I am butch.

Later girls,