Some Like It Hot Some Like It Hot // yadadarcyyada


It’s so hot…how hot is it?

It’s so hot cows are giving evaporated milk (mmm, now I’m thinking of hot chocolate https://yadadarcyyada.com/2019/05/30/you-live-you-die-in-between-theres-chocolate/).

It’s so hot, Optimus Prime transformed into an air conditioner.

It’s so hot I tried to bake sourdough bread but it ended up as toast; I didn’t really, I never turn my oven on between May-October, why heat the place up just to cool it down?

It’s so hot my clothes iron themselves (https://yadadarcyyada.com/2015/03/26/why-i-will-never-be-freshly-pressed/).

I’d say it’s so hot it gives me fever (oh, keep your social distance, don’t you kiss me, don’t you hold me tight; report your fever, it’s only right), but these days, I’d be bombarded by Purell and swabs.

I’m a slow processor, in the heat, even more so. Picture me as a vintage (old?) IBM, or on good days, an iMac, or Windows 95, a great day, Windows Vista…

I could blame my Fibrofog from Fibromyalgia

I could blame my anxiety, which is really just fear’s outside voice.

I now think anxiety is the price you pay for awareness (woke?) and imagination. I need to hug myself and teach fear to use it’s inside voice. https://yadadarcyyada.com/2019/02/06/dont-stop-me-now/

I could blame my life circumstances , illnesses, poor internet, financial issues, COVID-19, racism, sexism, ableism, and so many other isms (ismz?).

Those are factors, but also, how I respond. I need some alone time and silence to do so. Some people won’t respect that, which they should (we’d all get a better result).

The bigger the computation, the more time alone/silence I need to process; especially with other factors like: handling input from others, sending output, memory factors, outside factors, sigh, I’m gonna need a bigger CPU aka brain, or a good, long defragging…

Recently read a lovely book by Holly Hepburn,”The Picture House by the Sea” whose pages overflow with mouth-watering movies, gelato, romance, and the seaside – what’s not to like?

It prodded me to rewatch Dirty Dancing https://yadadarcyyada.com/2017/06/02/nobody-puts-bloggers-in-a-corner/

and Some Like It Hot.

Some Like It Hot is a 1959 classic American black and white romcom (I might as well face it I’m addicted to love), authentically/lovingly directed and produced by Billy Wilder, starring a shiver-inducing cast, Marilyn Monroe, Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon. That’s hot.

This film should have been scandalous, and it was, but also: absurd, hilarious, fun/funny, and hugely popular. It was/is, as ‘the kids’ say, fire.

What do you think the title is about? Weather, uncomfortable women’s foundation garments (no Spanx for you!), sex (or gender, to each their own, J.K. Rowling),

and/or Jazz – I say all of the aforementioned.

Hmmm, I’m hearing a song in my head, wasn’t “Some Like it Hot” also a ‘80s song by Power Station, a band including Robert Palmer and members of Duran Duran…did that happen, or is the heat starting to make me hallucinate?

The weather out there…Baby, It’s Hot Outside. I really can’t stay…Baby, I have A/C and ice…

Source: // yadadarcyyada

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J.Jay Samuel Davis ~ Yesterday⚜️⚜️


“THE PINETREE SANDLOT BALLPARK” 
A sandlot here, somewhat fenced in,

Built by my Unc’, now passed away.

I walk around it and used to win,

At baseball when I was young and thin,

A ballpark we blessed many a day.
This family land, we’re tending still,With taxes we’ve paid every year,

We’ll sell that lot; one day we will,

But pinetree memories will always thrill,

Me, as children play and bring their gear. 

I walked the lot the other day,  

Upon a path, long mowed by me,

And to the boys who’d come to play,

I greeted them with a fond “Hurray,

“Returning their ball lost ‘neath the tree.

And soon I walked and saw a sign,

“Stay out” the boys had posted there,A boy did cry,

“This lot is mine,”They broke the fence and felled the pine.

No memories were there to share.

The “equity” of youth seems clear,

They will demand the past to go,

To forget all except the fear,

Of “Youth Must Rule;” I’ll shed a tear,

For in their eyes my youth won’t show. 

#alllivesmatters

J.Jay Samuel Davis ~ Yesterday⚜️⚜️

We are all flawed ~


Our lives avoided tragedy
Simply by going on and on,
Without end and with little apparent meaning.
Oh, there were storms and small catastrophes.

Simply by going on and on
We managed. No need for the heroic.
Oh, there were storms and small catastrophes.
I don’t remember all the particulars.

We managed. No need for the heroic.
There were the usual celebrations, the usual sorrows.
I don’t remember all the particulars.
Across the fence, the neighbors were our chorus.

There were the usual celebrations, the usual sorrows
Thank god no one said anything in verse.
The neighbors were our only chorus,
And if we suffered we kept quiet about it.

At no time did anyone say anything in verse.
It was the ordinary pities and fears consumed us,
And if we suffered we kept quiet about it.
No audience would ever know our story.

It was the ordinary pities and fears consumed us.
We gathered on porches; the moon rose; we were poor.
What audience would ever know our story?
Beyond our windows shone the actual world.

We gathered on porches; the moon rose; we were poor.
And time went by, drawn by slow horses.
Somewhere beyond our windows shone the actual world.
The Great Depression had entered our souls like fog.

And time went by, drawn by slow horses.
We did not ourselves know what the end was.
The Great Depression had entered our souls like fog.
We had our flaws, perhaps a few private virtues.

But we did not ourselves know what the end was.
People like us simply go on.
We had our flaws, perhaps a few private virtues,
But it is by blind chance only that we escape tragedy.

And there is no plot in that; it is devoid of poetry.

We are all flawed ~

Today Stan lost his child; I reached out to silence


Oh, Stan, 😔 I feel your pain. No parent should bury their blood child; it’s not natural. Folk used to say to me Don’t you hate God for taking your baby boy. My answer, I live with him. ” I thank God for having a house for little Sam and arms to cradle my baby, safe in Jesus’ arms.” My son did not go home to God to be forgotten; Little Sam left the most significant legacy in our existences. We strive to be kind and help others to live through Child lose.” God does not take lives; two ways kill us. * illness and accidents* simple. You know that sigma of child loss as a parent when people who you once knew cross the road when they see you coming!? You understand that sign they see plastered all over you her child died” (don’t know what to say or how to look, or I don’t want to catch that misery.” Only parents who have lost children understand what I’m saying right now. The greatest calamity bereaved parents are “guilt” “what if”. It’s a minefield. 🙁 The journey of grieving parents is a lifetime ordeal. It’s not over after the funeral. You sit in a glass case suffocating watching cars go by, movement outside your window all the time screaming out why are they still going around, my child is dead!??? Things happen along with this nightmare; no parent or human should feel or hear 😕. My story many already know, through my books or public speaking. Yes, you do change. Use your journey to help others treading this path of despair. I give thanks to my little boy aged 4 and Jesus for showing a way to help you. My Boy lived a lifetime of happiness and gave so much love to all. Sam still lives on in my heart. Shalom 😌

Today Stan lost his child; I reached out to silence