Not to be negative just for the sake of it on this Mother's Day, but for those of us who don't have hearts-and-flowers relationships with our moms and prefer to forget our ambivalence by distracting ourselves with fantasy, I present another link to a site showing pictures of 50s and early 60s British star Belinda Lee...this time courtesy of the great site, WOmWAm (listed permanently on Sites I Like, too).

I suggest as a counterbalance to Mother's Day that there be a national Temptress Day, in which we lovers of evil beauties may honor those women who, either in reality or fantasy, have contributed to our total derangement.

Which 2008 presidential candidate do you think would push for the passage of Temptress Day? That's the one I'll vote for.

BelindaLeeAtWOmWam

I took a walk through Times Square this morning after breakfast around nine a.m. It's pleasant when it's not crowded with people. There were tourists here and there, and the tour bus promoters with their pamphlets, but there was no crush on the sidewalks yet. Although I find most of the contemporary lights and signs in Times Square to be mundane and boring to look at, the space itself is airy, like a canyon in the center of town, and when the sunlight comes down between the buildings and creates a contrast with the shade, there is a feeling of spaciousness that is relaxing to the spirit. By twelve noon the place is usually crammed with slow-moving groups, and that spacious feeling is gone.

So, if you folks from out of town visit New York, be sure to check out Times Square between eight and ten in the morning on the weekends. Carry your cups of coffee and just graze around. The commercialization of the 1990s and early 2000s may have obliterated the old-time honky-tonk sleaze appeal of the square, but it couldn't destroy the timeless beauty of the open space itself. And ironically, as ugly, massive, and dull as most of the recently erected tall buildings are, they nonetheless accentuate the peaceful canyon-like aspect of the area.

Earlier today I went to the local chain drugstore to pick up a bag of Frito's Corn Chips, and as I was waiting on line I saw a small picture of one of the cashiers with the phrase R.I.P. next to it. There was her name, and her broad, smiling face. And now she's gone.

When I got up to the front of the line I asked the cashier on duty what had happened, and she explained that the cashier in the picture had died of a heart attack.

Damn! I thought. She sure seemed like a nice person. She always had a friendly manner and presence standing there in her blue smock, and if she was on duty and her line wasn't longer than the others, I would go to her. She usually stood at the end of the row of registers. She had a brisk, efficient manner as befitting this busy store, but also a touch of warmth.

She wasn't very old, but she carried a bit of weight and perhaps that affected her heart.

Well, rest in peace, dear lady. I hope you had a good life, and thanks once more for the friendly, courteous service. It made my own days a little more pleasant. You made a difference to this stranger.

I met a friend for dinner last night on 42nd Street, where he was waiting for me in front of a restaurant. Let's call him Andre. He's a gregarious, affable guy, somebody I used to work with but have only seen intermittently of late. Anyway, he was enjoying just watching the people passing by on the sidewalk. In contrast, as I had been walking through Times Square to meet him, I kept asking myself, "What IS the attraction of this area now? It's unbearably crowded, cluttered with uninteresting signs and lights, and has been so sanitized that it completely lacks any sort of honky-tonk vibe." But Andre saw something that I missed. It's the people that are the show now, and he was savoring it.

I don't know, I myself just don't find the people around Times Square very interesting anymore. They mostly look like a bunch of young people hanging out with their friends, or families of tourists gazing this way and that, maybe stopping to buy cheap merchandise from the sidewalk vendors. I liked it better when the area was full of seedy riff-raff of all kinds, when the movie theaters were rundown but showed double and triple bills of lurid trash flicks, and when 42nd Street was a mall of adult bookstores and peep shows, with beautiful girls of all types offering to display themselves behind glass for a Susan B. Anthony dollar per minute. Maybe I'm a hardened sleazeball, but I just don't find much of interest in the flow of regular people going about their lives. I miss the film noir drama of the nasty New York of old, and find it difficult to really enjoy the stream of folks around the so-called "crossroads of the world." Unless of course, a girl with nice legs, butt, bust, feet, or face walks by. Then I perk up.

I guess I have a peep show mentality, wherever I find the show.

Anyway, I read in the paper this week that the area pumps $55 billion into the New York economy, so financially this squeaky-clean approach is obviously a success. What a depressing thought.

I find the ambiance more vital downtown near Union Square or the East Village, where the people seem to be more on the make in their lives, rather than just enjoying vacations or a once-a-year visit to a Broadway show as folks do in Times Square. There are a lot of college students in those downtown areas, and students are always on the make, trying to hustle their lives together, from dates to classes to jobs. Maybe I identify with them, even though I'm three decades older. Even as my body ages, maybe I'm strangely stuck at the age of 22 emotionally, which is how old I was when I moved to New York. But I guess eternal youth is not such a good idea when it only happens in your mind; the body has to participate in the program, too!

Didn't make it to the stripclub last night...I dunno, my libido seems to be low these days...probably from a combination of stress and a rather shaky stomach...can't say I'm in the "mood for love"...or whatever substitute I search for in the tittie bars...

Anyway, the weather has been warm and sunny, and that's turned all of New York into a girlie show. Over the last two days I've been struck by how many classically shapely legs I've seen around town, on the subway, on the streets...I saw three pair of positively Grablesque gams. Three pair is a lot, considering most of the female legs these days either look too muscular and toned from exercise, or don't have any particular curviness...

I was walking home after dinner tonight, and I saw two twentyish gals. One was a pretty blonde in a black dress; she had wonderful stems, and she complemented them with leopard print high heels...I wanted to say to her, "Doll, those are beautiful shoes, and you've got the legs to wear 'em." But I didn't...

It's funny. It seems in the last few days, I'm seeing women dressing like I've wanted them to dress for the last thirty years...I was into all this retro stuff back in the 70s, but women weren't...I was into pinup art when nobody cared about it...I was a guy in search of dolls who didn't exist back then. Now I'm too spongy and bald and just plain middle-aged for them...on the other hand, beauty intimidates me, and maybe it's best for me to just observe it from afar now and merely eat my heart out in the full flower of my crankitude...

Yes, the streets are finally graced by some girls dressing quite stylishly in a more vintage fashion, and leaving their flip-flops at home.

I like the new very high heels with mary jane style straps across the instep...the perfect combination of the bold and the demure...but damn! Why couldn't chicks have worn shoes like that back in the 70s and early 80s when I was up to the challenge? I was born too late for the dames of the 40s and 50s, and too early for the young gals of the 00s...

I guess I'll just put a DVD on, and forget reality for awhile. Hmm...maybe Diana Dors in 1952's Man Bait?