SMELLIN' LIKE BURBERRY COLOGNE: I just got in from taping two of the best episodes of my radio show, The Business of Words, ever. On the first show (which begins airing Tuesday) my guest was Theresa Davis, who was funny and lively and read some of her kick-ass political poems. You definitely don't want to miss this show. And then I taped another with Theresa's mom, the legendary Alice Lovelace. Alice has been sick, so we did this over the phone, and it was like she was there in the room. Her words and poetry are so potent. My producer, Harold B., said he wanted to find some kind of competitions to enter these two episodes in for best broadcasts. They really are that good, all thanks to the words and wisdom of Theresa and Alice. Thank you, ladies.
On my way home from taping, I had to stop by Lenox Square mall. God how I hate that place. I suppose it's a sign I'm getting older, but I used to love that mall. I bought my first "cool" clothes there in the 80s and it used to be a fun excursion "uptown" when I was living in the southside burbs with my friends. I distinctly remember going with best friend Tina to find clothes for our senior pictures in 1987. In the summer of 1988, me and my friend Karen were followed by a Secret Service agent who was in town for the Democratic National Convention because we showed up at the mall early and were wearing all black in the middle of summer. Yeah, we looked like a couple of security threats. I still have this long duster coat from Banana Republic that I bought to take on my first trip to Europe. Ah...the happy golden years.
Sadly, Lenox Square has changed. It's packed with people just sitting around, cruising or hangin' out with their homies. You can't even walk for some thuggy, gangsta poser shuffling along in front of you like he owns the place. Then you've got the screaming teenagers set loose with their parent's credit card who streak down the mall like the place is on fire. Lenox and Phipps Plaza really are the only places in Atlanta that have nice stores. Macy's, Bloomingdale's, Saks, Armani, Barney's, Versace, Cartier, Neiman-Marcus, Kate Spade, etc. are all in this one little triangle. Traffic is hell, parking is non-existent. In a word...hell.
My mission to Lenox was twofold: returning a bag of books and magazines Stan D. had accidentally left in my car the other night after the Outwrite poetry readings and to buy new cologne. Stanley works in the Apple store (the only one in the city) and madhouse doesn't even begin to describe the place. I couldn't find him, so I just handed the bag to one of his harried co-workers and got out of there. I went down to Sephora to select my new cologne. Now, I'm basically a t-shirt and jeans guy. I hate dressing up. Dressing up for me is a nice jacket over the jeans and t-shirt (luckily that's what most guys are wearing these days) and a nice pair of shoes. I don't like to spend money on clothes, but I'll spend a small fortune on cologne and shoes. I'm half-a-homo I suppose.
Sephora is sensory overload. They have just about every cologne made and the smell is overwhelming. I started spraying different ones on those little tester strips, but there were so many people doing the same thing, the air was hazy with scents. Stan called on my cell and came down to meet me for a few minutes to help me pick something. For about the last year I've been wearing Jil Sander (which I love), but it was time for something new. I tried the new DKNY for men called Be Delicious (Donna must have been having a faghag moment when she named it), and it smelled loverly, but faded quickly. Then I tried Carolina Herrera, Dolce & Gabbana, Hugo Boss and a couple of others. I finally settled on the new Burberry Brit. Stan liked it above all the others and I had to agree. It's very sexy, woodsy and British...so right up my alley. It also reminds me of that Missy Elliott song Gossip Folks where Ludacris talks about leaving some woman's boobs smelling like Burberry cologne. Next time you see me at some event come up and sniff me...I might leave you smelling like Burberry cologne.
Last night was the final open mic at the Barnes & Noble at Georgia Tech. There was a nice crowd, including a contingent to see feature Dustin Brookshire read his work. Rupert, Beth and Rosemary were all in attendance, which made me happy. The evening was short and sweet and then I pulled the plug. Kodac told me that a reading series usually lasts about two years, so I'm proud that this series accomplished that. It's time to move on to Poetry at the Portfolio Center in October, which is going to rock...hard.
On my way home from taping, I had to stop by Lenox Square mall. God how I hate that place. I suppose it's a sign I'm getting older, but I used to love that mall. I bought my first "cool" clothes there in the 80s and it used to be a fun excursion "uptown" when I was living in the southside burbs with my friends. I distinctly remember going with best friend Tina to find clothes for our senior pictures in 1987. In the summer of 1988, me and my friend Karen were followed by a Secret Service agent who was in town for the Democratic National Convention because we showed up at the mall early and were wearing all black in the middle of summer. Yeah, we looked like a couple of security threats. I still have this long duster coat from Banana Republic that I bought to take on my first trip to Europe. Ah...the happy golden years.
Sadly, Lenox Square has changed. It's packed with people just sitting around, cruising or hangin' out with their homies. You can't even walk for some thuggy, gangsta poser shuffling along in front of you like he owns the place. Then you've got the screaming teenagers set loose with their parent's credit card who streak down the mall like the place is on fire. Lenox and Phipps Plaza really are the only places in Atlanta that have nice stores. Macy's, Bloomingdale's, Saks, Armani, Barney's, Versace, Cartier, Neiman-Marcus, Kate Spade, etc. are all in this one little triangle. Traffic is hell, parking is non-existent. In a word...hell.
My mission to Lenox was twofold: returning a bag of books and magazines Stan D. had accidentally left in my car the other night after the Outwrite poetry readings and to buy new cologne. Stanley works in the Apple store (the only one in the city) and madhouse doesn't even begin to describe the place. I couldn't find him, so I just handed the bag to one of his harried co-workers and got out of there. I went down to Sephora to select my new cologne. Now, I'm basically a t-shirt and jeans guy. I hate dressing up. Dressing up for me is a nice jacket over the jeans and t-shirt (luckily that's what most guys are wearing these days) and a nice pair of shoes. I don't like to spend money on clothes, but I'll spend a small fortune on cologne and shoes. I'm half-a-homo I suppose.
Sephora is sensory overload. They have just about every cologne made and the smell is overwhelming. I started spraying different ones on those little tester strips, but there were so many people doing the same thing, the air was hazy with scents. Stan called on my cell and came down to meet me for a few minutes to help me pick something. For about the last year I've been wearing Jil Sander (which I love), but it was time for something new. I tried the new DKNY for men called Be Delicious (Donna must have been having a faghag moment when she named it), and it smelled loverly, but faded quickly. Then I tried Carolina Herrera, Dolce & Gabbana, Hugo Boss and a couple of others. I finally settled on the new Burberry Brit. Stan liked it above all the others and I had to agree. It's very sexy, woodsy and British...so right up my alley. It also reminds me of that Missy Elliott song Gossip Folks where Ludacris talks about leaving some woman's boobs smelling like Burberry cologne. Next time you see me at some event come up and sniff me...I might leave you smelling like Burberry cologne.
Last night was the final open mic at the Barnes & Noble at Georgia Tech. There was a nice crowd, including a contingent to see feature Dustin Brookshire read his work. Rupert, Beth and Rosemary were all in attendance, which made me happy. The evening was short and sweet and then I pulled the plug. Kodac told me that a reading series usually lasts about two years, so I'm proud that this series accomplished that. It's time to move on to Poetry at the Portfolio Center in October, which is going to rock...hard.
Comments
My lifelong (since childhood) love for Chuck Taylor All-Star tennies has been jilted lately by the hip-hopper fad, but I keep on keepin' on anyway. That's the glory of Chucks: versatility and universality - while still being cool and even unique. (Hard to explain.)
I used to have a staunch love for Carolina steel-tipped combat boots, but have since kept one of my old pair around while mainly wearing "more normal" hard shoes. I still usually insist on steel (since I'm a dork).
I've never liked Doc Martins, but I have a cool pair of Dr. Scholl's steel-tipped black boot/shoes. So I jokingly tell folks I wear "Docs" - Doc Scholl's! :)
Congrats on the BOW intrerviews. I'll be sure to catch them!
-D.