Today, I'll write about being White Trash.
I grew up in a small, Texas town. Where Men were Men, and Women were Woman. Where the terrain is just as hard as the people who've chosen to live in it. And anyone who believe that Texas is not it's own special breed of Southerners, are mistaken. It is, at times, it's own country...not just a bumper sticker.
Everyone I know has asked if I've seen the Johnny Cash movie, and when he came to town, everyone asked if I was going to go see him play. My answer was no, to both. I don't like Johnny Cash. And I don't care how great the movie about him movie was. I don't care how great his music was. I rarely explain why. But, today, I think that I will.
I was a small girl when I began to understand what was up with Johnny Cash. I don't really remember what show I was watching, or what magazines I read, I was small. But, I do remember the beating of his wife and his dependency on drugs and alcohol. There was a time, even at my young age, that I knew that I was surround my people just like this famous man and his wife. And this man was so famous, and got so much money, for not just his music, but for being an asshole. Something in my childhood, in my little girl mind, thought that what he was doing was so ordinary, so plain, so everyday. I knew there had to be more.
Thus, Johnny Cash didn't ever represent anything cool to me. He was just another drunk, high, singing cowboy that went home to his life, probably saying he made all the money, through a slightly lipstick stained mouth from another woman, stinking, wanting to eat and screw again in his own bed, and if wifey didn't- he would kick her ass, guy. Shit, my whole entire State was full of these guys. So, having seen this scene already, even being small, I didn't care to watch it again.
And don't get me wrong... I do have some self-hate, some self-distain for the White Trash in me. One the other hand, sometimes I relish in it, as it's not like anything else on the planet. It has made my tough and strong. I still believe that a handshake says a world about a person. And anyone who can't look you in the eyes may not be all their cracked up to be.
And I will say that sometimes the White Trash in me, shields me from a vast majority of idiots who use $ .50 words to commit the same atrocities in society, but then think their better at it, or smarter at it. Thinking I'm dumb, they will generally meander off without much effort on my part. Very nice side-effect to have.
And for years I ran from being White Trash. I ran from being myself. I ran because of love for myself. I ran. Perhaps, Johnny Cash and I have that in common, and that's another reason I don't like him. Probably. But, at least being a man, he would get the better end of the deal. Yes, he would.
I think even now, there are still times when I cannot consolidate the upbringing of the Man is the Man and the Woman is a Woman, in my head. I'm quite sure that this will be an internal struggle for perhaps my whole life. It does rear it's ugly little head every once in a while. And I have to check myself. I'm am conflicted at times about it. But, then the reality of myself settles back in. I wouldn't want to stay home and take care of the house and kids. I wouldn't want to cook three square meals a day. I wouldn't want to make military corners on all the beds.
I like having my own money. I like going to work. I like all of the independence. I wouldn't trade the risks that I take on the everyday basis, for the Johnny Cash ordinary. No, I wouldn't like that at all.
However, the playing field is still not quite equal. Even after the protests to win the right to vote, the struggle to get equal jobs, etc. Even now the playing field isn't still quite equal. But, it's happening, maybe not to complete itself in my lifetime, but it's happening.
Where I work now used to be traditionally men. Now there's women everywhere, and in key places. The old white men are dying out. Some, not without a fight. As to be expected, it seems to be in a man's upbringing or nature to fight. And the tides are turning, it has begun to be in the woman's upbringing or nature to fight as well.
At a ladies lunch, this last week, there came the topic of all the beauty shops, now in the area, where men can get jacked off and a hair cut. They can actually walk in, to a respectable looking beauty shop, and while little old ladies are in the front getting their hair dyed blue, these guys are paying a little extra and getting "the special" shampoo job.
I started laughing. I started big laughing...deep in my gut laughing. You don't really see very many woman stopping their cars to ask how much, or going to nudie bars, or massage parlours, or "shampoo" places. I just laughed. We all did.
We all work around these men. And they seem so sad, and even after all the trouble of getting their wiener blown dry, they still seem so stressed out and pent up. I'll admit that it must be weird to have to show your dominance under a haircut apron. I've been in meetings where some of these men have tried to push me a bit, show me where I might be wrong about something, dominate me in an effort to remind me of my place. None of which has worked, not just with me, but the other woman as well. And these guys end up looking so angry, frustrated, small and sad.
So, to find out that when this occurs, they run off to get "haircuts", well, it just cracks me up. I should be shocked, I should be bothered....and I am, but only a little. On the other hand, it's a side affect of our progress as women. We have made the men run to the beauty parlours...to get their hair and wieners did. Tell me that's not funny.
( My thought on how they don't have to get perms, because pubic hair is already super curly.)
The conversation then turned to the also, nearby, nudie bar and strippers. And how much society still held distain for these places. I nodded in agreement on this topic. But, what surprised me, was that I was in a room full of Texas born and raised women, who were not angry with the women...it was the men they were angry with. That was a surprise. Perhaps the tide is turning in the masses as well on this topic.
I recently watched a news program that were the topic was the Duke team's rape case, where the woman who alleged rape, was being talked about as a stripper, and a stripper only. There was little talk about the fact that this was her job, just like any other job. There was little talk about the fact that these boys were paying for a stripper. There was little talk about any questions of their morality in ordering a stripper for a party. This woman didn't just show up off the street. She didn't just crash their party. This woman was doing a job. And whether the rape occurred or not, this woman was at work...so, if you want to lay blame on the immorality of the evening, look at the boys who sought this out. These boys were paying for boobies, plain and simple.
And for once, at the ladies lunch, I was in a room full of women, who were doing just that, blaming the men who seek this shit out. That the women who do this work wouldn't be doing this work, if there wasn't droves of men with their wieners out, running towards, if not demanding with fists, full of dollars, for these services. It is a supply and demand occupation.
I was amazed. This, up until now, was a rare woman, indeed, that I met, who shared this line of thinking. These women who agreed that women need to step up, we need to raise our little boys better, and our little girls better. We all needed to quite dating, marrying, living with these men who sought out haircut aprons for anything other than getting just a haircut. And as for the Johnny Cashes and other old white men relics, that would be dying out all on their own. Take away the comfort of at home boobies and men will change. They would have too. It's very simple, really.
And, yes there would be still more risks for our equality. There would still be more violence and other vile nonsense. However, these things weren't anything that women weren't used to dealing with, surviving, moving through. And in the end, spilling a few teaspoons of jizz, will always cost more to the man who did the spilling of it, than the woman who saw it happen. Women are strong like that.
So, today, I still don't want to see anything about Mr. Cash, but I will tip my hat to him as he has started the trend of dying off. And even the old relics deserve some sympathy and recognition for their efforts and contribution to the change in our society. I'll give him that.
As women, as a group, we are definitely learning what we don't want...and that only leads to discovery of these bright, shiny things that we do want.
