A Brand New Day or How Bea Arthur’s Rack and Derek Jeter’s Balls Ended the Era of Regrets

May 8, 2007 at 2:23 am | Posted in New Orleans, Video, Yankees | 12 Comments

beaarthur.jpgAlrighty then.  Where were we?

So Rue McClanahan, Blanche of Golden Girls fame, was apparently in West Hollywood recently to sign copies of her new book, “My First Five Husbands…and the Ones Who Got Away.”

It was there that one Lenora Claire, 26, showed up with this painting of a topless Bea Arthur that you see before you.  (Pull your pants back up, you friggin’ perv!  At least finish reading first!)  According to Lucy the Blog’s west coast bureau (this guy), Claire asked Rue to pose with the painting, but after much deliberation, Rue declined, with a publicist saying, “Blanche would probably pose with it, but Rue will not.”

Now, the particulars of this matter are not all that important.  But I found myself digging around the informational super highway transmission network to learn more about this Lenora Claire.  And then I found myself falling in love.  I still have no idea how this self-described Scarlet Woman of the Apocalipstick pays the rent.  Apparently she’s a professional glass eater and glamour girl.  But whatever she does, I desperately want to be a part of it.

Perhaps it’s the approach of summer or the infusion of energy provided by New Orleans.  But today I feel committed to living life.  To carping the diem and all of that shit.  How this will manifest itself is beyond me.  But people like Lenora Claire are out there living – chewing glass and rubbing shoulders with Rue McClanahan – while I sit around pulling my pud.  This must not stand.  I’m 31-goddamn-years-old and the clock’s a-tickin’.

Last summer I was sitting in upper-deck along the first base line at Yankee Stadium when Derek Jeter lofted a foul ball up into our section.  We were way up there and I hadn’t anticipated that catching a foul ball would be a possibility.  But sure enough, it kept rising and rising and magically growing, until it was floating an arm’s length in front of me.  I could see each seam.

When I was little, my dad snagged a foul ball from Rich Gedman at Fenway.  It had a little less arc than this Jeter ball, and everyone in our section clamored for it while I ducked down beneath the crowd in fear of getting hit.  When I looked up, Dad was standing there with a big grin, holding the baseball out for me while strangers slapped his back.  Fuckin A, I thought – or some juvenille, Christian interpretation thereof.  What a guy, this guy!  Was there anything he could not do?  He would have difficulty driving home that night, as his right hand swelled up from the catch.

leonora.jpgAnyway, there was Jeter’s ball, waiting for me like an apple hanging lazily from a tree.  It was just resting at the top of its trajectory, so I wouldn’t even bear the force of its descent to the ground.  But I did nothing.  I just watched it fall and bounce around, eventually popping up on the arm of the chair in front of me, where it was promptly snatched away.  I didn’t even try!  And it was a goddamn Jeter ball, no less!  Jeter!

Since then, not a day has gone by when I haven’t thought about that baseball and the missed opportunities it represented.  By and large, I am satisfied with my life.  But I can’t truly say that I’ve given it my all.  I have not thrown myself into every day.  I have not tried to do anything too special.  And even when I have, I haven’t tried all that hard.

I’m not sure why this is or what I should be trying.  But I can assure you, this new Era of Hard-Core Living will be thoroughly documented here, in what will soon become the best blog ever. 

Maybe I’ll start taking up affairs with the buxom co-eds at UMASS Lowell, or maybe I’ll try some hard-core hallucinogens.  Maybe I’ll knock up my wife.  Maybe I’ll start a union!  Strike that.  Maybe I’ll re-learn the trombone and join the Rebirth Brass Band.  I’d fit right in.  The new me would, that is.  (The new me will be African-American; I neglected to mention that.  And totally charming.)

So yeah.  That’s what I’m going to do.  I’m gonna seize my destiny like my old man or Lenora Claire.  I’m gonna stop dicking around.  And if I get a chance at Derek Jeter’s balls again, I will not be denied.  All the balls will be mine!  Even yours! 

You only live once, dear reader, and if you’re not paying attention, this could happen to you.  It shall not happen to me!

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12 Comments »

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  1. Glad to see the mississippi blues are gone.

    That picture is bonerama.

  2. i did not have the mississippi blues because new orleans is in louisiana. there’s no trombone rock bands in mississippi, you see. only in new orleans. which is in louisiana.

    but i wouldn’t expect a surrender monkeying non-member of the coalition of the willing, with a name like henre, to be up to snuff on geography.

    suck on my freedom fry, coward.

  3. YeS FUCKERS THAT IS WHAT I’M TALKIN AB9UT!!! U gOT TO HIT IT LIKE U LIVE SON I EAT GLASS LIKE A FUCKEROF MOTHER$ AND I HAVE SEEN LENNIE CLARE SWALLOW CHAMPANE BOTTLES AND A CHANDELEIR AND I GIVE IT UP NOT LIKE U GIVE IT UP TO BASEWBALLS BUT NOT BUT TO THE lOVE SON!!! i WILL EAT A WUNDSHIELD AND A SWEATY GLASS BULL ON SUNSET FOR NOT FOr U BUT FOR LENN U SILLY BITCH I LOBE ANTONY AND THE JONSONS TOO LIVE YOUR LIFE AND EAT GLASS 2LIVE http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mbA0RmHD7RY

  4. exactly.

  5. Ooh la la the things one discovers when googling themselves. While my glamour and glass-eating have made me a little weave money, I make the bulk of my living working for Frontiers Magazine. As crazy as it sounds I’m actually paid to interview Elvira and write bizarre Klaus Nomi and chicken themed dates. So will I see you at my Golden Girls show?
    http://www.myspace.com/goldengirlsgoerotic
    I want everyone to come dressed as elderly versions of themselves, and yes…I have a cheesecake sponsor.

  6. Right on, man. I had a similar epiphany a year or so ago in which I realized I’d been wasting my life thus far. Since then I’ve written three novels and managed to accomplish dozens of other goals. Unfortunately, none of my accomplishments involve Lenora Claire, but there’s always hope.

  7. I had the GREAT fortune of meeting Miss Claire while she was in Kansas (The land of “Pigs in her Blankets”…LOL) (You’ll have to read her blog on MySpace) I also fell in AWE and in LOVE with her and her energy…She’s not just some “Glass Eating Freak” She’s sooo real!, and Very Genuine!and LOTS OF FUN!!!…I since have been e-mailing her and have been re-evaluating my life and my own life’s passions and my own missed opportunities..I too would like to grab life by the balls (or a Golden Girls Boobs) But then, would I be ME if I hadn’t made all the choices that I have, would I really be ‘ME’?? I think it’s nice and important to ‘want’ and to ‘dream’ and to “strive for something ‘better’ “, but I have learned that FIRST you have to be happy with yourself in the here and now, and those opportunities will present themselves…I have learned the hard way that you can’t dwell on the “Havn’ts” and embrace the “Haves”!! Then everyday will be YOUR “Brand New Day”!!

  8. How exciting that the Scarlet Woman has dipped her shapely toes into Lucy the Blog’s muddy waters. Thanks so much for stopping by and continued success.

    Unfortunately, the inspiration you provided was short-lived. Upon further introspection, I started to feel that this restlessness and sudden lust for life could be signs of a mid-life crisis. If true, that means I will meet my downfall by the tender age of 62. I was kind of hoping for a little more time than that. So rather than tempt fate and act on these newfound impulses, I have changed my mind for the benefit of my long-term welfare. The Brand New Days of grabbing life by the balls are over, and I will now return to doing nothing with passion for at least the next 10 years.

    Until then,

    Lucy the Dog

  9. Maybe you just need a little fiber in your diet. In all seriousness I think you should put on some surgical gloves and grab life by the balls. You know what I mean. Always go for it, but in a smart *protected* way. That way you can have it all in the palm of your hand without having to deal with any of that nasty ball sweat.

    Always ask yourself What would Blanche do?

  10. […] site’s most traffic-ey day was Tuesday, May 15, when this post was linked to by its inspiration, the ample-bosomed, glass-eating, world-beater Lenora […]

  11. […] painting originally appeared on May 8, 2007 in “A Brand New Day or How Bea Arthur’s Rack and Derek Jeter’s Balls Ended the Era of Regret….’  Rest in peace, young Bea, there’s a heaven for a GG. Golden Possibly related posts: […]

  12. does the dog answer to hebrew


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