Late Thursday evening, and I’m waiting for snow. We’re supposed to get a pile overnight, and I’d like to get a sense of what it might be before I turn in. If the pile arrives, I’ll work here tomorrow. No pile, off to Lansing (City of Light, City of Magic) at oh-dark-30.
In the meantime, I’m watching “Cellblock 6: Female Lockup” on TLC. Women in prison is an erotic archetype for some guys, a fact I’ve been aware of since seeing “The Big Bird Cage” at a drive-in in Ironton, Ohio, sometime around 1972. In an early scene, one of the birds makes a break for it, running for her life while naked and covered with grease. Oh, brother, I recall thinking, wondering how much longer until “Superfly” started.
The first few minutes, featuring a young Pam Grier in a white halter top/bellbottoms outfit. Also, this exchange, between an abducted woman and her kidnapper:
Woman: What are you going to do to me?
Man: Well, first I’m gonna rape ya.
Woman: You can’t rape me. I like sex.
I miss the ’70s. (Except that part.) Not ashamed.
As we’ve come to expect this winter, the snow underwhelmed here in Michigan’s banana belt. Between here and the capital, however, it’s deep and messy and so: It’s an at-home day for me.
But I have to get to work. So here’s some bloggage:
I got through most of this yesterday, Slate’s exhaustive look at Mitt Romney’s evolving abortion position. It’s pretty clear to me that there’s been little evolution at all, except in Romney’s packaging of his beliefs. For me, I keep coming back to Ann Keenan, the sister of Romney’s brother-in-law, who died of a botched illegal abortion in 1963. Once it was important to Romney. Not anymore, I guess. Well, 1963 was a long time ago.
Via one of my FB network, “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?,” in French. Because.
Slush. This is winter? Please.