I sort of have a school girl crush on Ezekiel “Easy” Rawlins.
He is everything a girl/woman could want: street-wise, hard-boiled and downright sexy. Easy has the swagger THAT young and old men alike only wish they could possess.
Men either love or hate him. And women just love him.
Despite being in his late 40s, he can hang with the best of them.
He takes care of his own children, as well as countless others, and watches out for his fellow man.
Can you blame me for drooling over the very thought of him?
I met Easy one night after coming home from a long day’s work.
See he’s a private eye. But not your every day, average run of the mill type PI.
He learns what people want hidden. Find what the police can’t, and makes it all seem so “Easy.”
Easy used to be an unlicensed PI. But he’s so smooth the cops practically begged to give him a license.
But I digress.
He was on the trail of the murderer of a missing woman when I was first introduced to him.
Yes, he’s constantly in harms way. I feared for his safety every turn of the page.
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, Easy’s not real. He’s the protagonist of Walter Mosley’s Easy Rawlins Mysteries.
Denzel Washington brought him to life in the movie “Devil in a Blue Dress,” which was based on the first book of the series. Soon as I finish the series, I plan on watching the movie to see if it’s close to the book.
That’s going to be a bittersweet moment.
I started reading the series backwards in chronological order because I’m crazy. So I already know how it ends … for now.
Yes, Walter Mosley is trying to punk us all into thinking Easy is dead. I refuse to believe it.
If people can still believe Elvis, Tupac and Biggie are alive, why can’t I hold out for Easy?
I still have two books left in the series, and I’m almost certain I might cry when I’m through.
This crush didn’t happen over night.
The first book merely had me intrigued with Easy. Book two deepened my interest.
But by book three I was sprung like spring.
If only I could meet a real Easy.
Part of me wonders if the character is somewhat based on Mosley himself. I can dig it.
Sure he may be 56, but have you heard his voice? He sounds simply irresistible.
I could love that voice.
Mosley has been added to the list of people I have to meet.
When that day comes, I am simply going to ask “Are you Easy?” Then he is required to read no less than three chapters of one of the books aloud to me, while I sit and swoon over him.
I haven’t decided on which book yet. Maybe “Black Betty” because the ending was purely poetic justice.
Easy has a tendency of doing that.
So how am I going to ever survive without him?
Maybe the Fearless Jones series will spark a new crush. And I am eagerly anticipating reading the Leonid McGill series.
But deep down I know none can quite compare to Easy.
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Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Chronicles of Life ... the bald and the beautiful Share
It’s starting again! The urge to cut, that is.
The last time I felt like this I cut my hair down to the new growth at 3 a.m.
It was six months after I started growing out my relaxer. My cousin twisted my hair every few months with extensions to aid the transition process.
But one night, while taking some old twists out, it happened. I picked up the scissors and couldn’t stop.
Hair was all over the sink.
My hair looked a hot mess, but at least I was getting it re-twisted the next morning.
Having a fall back was excellent, because I am no stylist. Sure I do a little this and that every now and then, but I know my limitations.
That’s not the case this time.
Lately my split ends have really been irking me.
It’s my own fault. I don’t go get my ends trimmed like I should.
I go to a hairdresser maybe every six months.
For some reason, the split ends really got the best of me a few weeks ago. So I washed my hair, twisted it up and arbitrarily cut off two-three inches at 3 a.m. again.
The feeling was exhilarating! I felt alive!
And my hair was split end free, or so I thought.
Then I noticed a few leftover split ends the next week. The urge to cut returned with a vengeance.
I had to remove all the evil split ends so my hair could truly be healthy. It was the only hope.
So I cut off another two inches.
I was OK for a while. Then just the other day I saw a split end.
You know what I’m thinking about doing?
My mother says I need to stop playing hair dresser and go see a professional. There is no time!
My hair is crying out for help. I must pick up the scissors one last time.
Two more inches should do the job.
If not...OK there is a good chance the next time my parents see me I will be bald.
Not totally bald, mind you, because my daddy would have a cow.
Personally, I have wanted to cut most of my hair off for some time. I’ve done practically everything else to it, and always loved my hair when it was short.
How cool would it be to have only one inch of hair on my head?
Maybe the split ends are just the nudge in that direction.
Some say it won’t look right. Sorry, but my ego makes me fully believe I can pull off any hair style, and quite well I might add.
I can always get a wig as a fall back.
I’m not sure if the world is ready for a “bald” new Antonia.
But there’s only one way to find out... to be continued.
The last time I felt like this I cut my hair down to the new growth at 3 a.m.
It was six months after I started growing out my relaxer. My cousin twisted my hair every few months with extensions to aid the transition process.
But one night, while taking some old twists out, it happened. I picked up the scissors and couldn’t stop.
Hair was all over the sink.
My hair looked a hot mess, but at least I was getting it re-twisted the next morning.
Having a fall back was excellent, because I am no stylist. Sure I do a little this and that every now and then, but I know my limitations.
That’s not the case this time.
Lately my split ends have really been irking me.
It’s my own fault. I don’t go get my ends trimmed like I should.
I go to a hairdresser maybe every six months.
For some reason, the split ends really got the best of me a few weeks ago. So I washed my hair, twisted it up and arbitrarily cut off two-three inches at 3 a.m. again.
The feeling was exhilarating! I felt alive!
And my hair was split end free, or so I thought.
Then I noticed a few leftover split ends the next week. The urge to cut returned with a vengeance.
I had to remove all the evil split ends so my hair could truly be healthy. It was the only hope.
So I cut off another two inches.
I was OK for a while. Then just the other day I saw a split end.
You know what I’m thinking about doing?
My mother says I need to stop playing hair dresser and go see a professional. There is no time!
My hair is crying out for help. I must pick up the scissors one last time.
Two more inches should do the job.
If not...OK there is a good chance the next time my parents see me I will be bald.
Not totally bald, mind you, because my daddy would have a cow.
Personally, I have wanted to cut most of my hair off for some time. I’ve done practically everything else to it, and always loved my hair when it was short.
How cool would it be to have only one inch of hair on my head?
Maybe the split ends are just the nudge in that direction.
Some say it won’t look right. Sorry, but my ego makes me fully believe I can pull off any hair style, and quite well I might add.
I can always get a wig as a fall back.
I’m not sure if the world is ready for a “bald” new Antonia.
But there’s only one way to find out... to be continued.
Chronicles of Life … the non-benchwarmer
Allow me to formerly introduce someone to you. You’ve seen him before at a number of sporting events.
He is the teammate that pass was intended for on the football field; the outfielder who was supposed to catch that stray baseball; or the player who everyone thought had the basketball rebound.
Still don’t know who he is?
It’s none other than Jeff, the imaginary teammate everyone loves to bring into the game.
I got to witness Jeff first hand at several sporting events a few weeks ago: two basketball and one hockey game.
Yep, Jeff is multitalented and plays all sports.
But he has really been in the spotlight during March Madness.
In case you didn’t know, Jeff blows games. Big time!
Sure you might have a 10 point lead. But you can forget it once Jeff comes off the bench.
He does not catch passes, block goals or go in for the rebound. Jeff has even been known to drop a few batons in relay races.
Does no one pay attention to Jeff’s stats for each game? He has none.
Jeff officially is the world’s worst teammate. Yet he’s on every team.
I don’t know why teams keep recruiting Jeff. Maybe it’s because he has this good camaraderie with all the teammates.
I think Jeff keeps telling everyone he’s in it to win it. Team members want to trust each other, so they give Jeff chance after chance.
He must keep saying he’ll redeem himself next game, and in he goes.
Jeff is a habitual liar, apparently.
He may be cool and all after the game, but the point is to win. National championships are on the line here.
I don’t mind seeing Jeff play with the young’uns during rec department games. That is the age when it’s all about the joys of the game and learning the fundamentals of whatever sport.
But Jeff has to leave the team once high school starts.
Maybe Jeff can take on a different, less important team role. I think Jeff the imaginary team mascot has a nice ring to it.
I know people want to protect their teammates. But hear me out.
Jeff needs to go!
Side note: I don’t know who is worse; Jeff, the imaginary teammate, or a star player’s evil twin.
I have seen Jim Tebow stand in for Tim during games. And Rick Calathes has blown some for Nick.
Round them all up, evil twins and Jeff, and keep them on the bench.
He is the teammate that pass was intended for on the football field; the outfielder who was supposed to catch that stray baseball; or the player who everyone thought had the basketball rebound.
Still don’t know who he is?
It’s none other than Jeff, the imaginary teammate everyone loves to bring into the game.
I got to witness Jeff first hand at several sporting events a few weeks ago: two basketball and one hockey game.
Yep, Jeff is multitalented and plays all sports.
But he has really been in the spotlight during March Madness.
In case you didn’t know, Jeff blows games. Big time!
Sure you might have a 10 point lead. But you can forget it once Jeff comes off the bench.
He does not catch passes, block goals or go in for the rebound. Jeff has even been known to drop a few batons in relay races.
Does no one pay attention to Jeff’s stats for each game? He has none.
Jeff officially is the world’s worst teammate. Yet he’s on every team.
I don’t know why teams keep recruiting Jeff. Maybe it’s because he has this good camaraderie with all the teammates.
I think Jeff keeps telling everyone he’s in it to win it. Team members want to trust each other, so they give Jeff chance after chance.
He must keep saying he’ll redeem himself next game, and in he goes.
Jeff is a habitual liar, apparently.
He may be cool and all after the game, but the point is to win. National championships are on the line here.
I don’t mind seeing Jeff play with the young’uns during rec department games. That is the age when it’s all about the joys of the game and learning the fundamentals of whatever sport.
But Jeff has to leave the team once high school starts.
Maybe Jeff can take on a different, less important team role. I think Jeff the imaginary team mascot has a nice ring to it.
I know people want to protect their teammates. But hear me out.
Jeff needs to go!
Side note: I don’t know who is worse; Jeff, the imaginary teammate, or a star player’s evil twin.
I have seen Jim Tebow stand in for Tim during games. And Rick Calathes has blown some for Nick.
Round them all up, evil twins and Jeff, and keep them on the bench.