It’s All Maya!

 Maya Muses:  Happy 4th of July to everyone!

Photo Credit:  Flickr

It’s not that Kevin Skinner doesn’t have talent - he does!  I just hope he doesn’t get hounded by the media and end up having a nervous breakdown like Susan Boyle did.  There are comparisons that can be made, both Kevin Skinner and Susan Boyle were laughed at for being a little “slow” when they came on stage in front of the audience and judges.  Both were not taken seriously and, to be honest, neither one was expected to have much talent!  Finally, both amazed everyone the moment they began to sing!

The similarities, however, end there.  Yes, Susan Boyle has a lovely voice, but I think her rise to stardom was more about how she won over the public that was mocking her, than her actual talent.  Kevin Skinner’s talent, on the other hand, is the real deal!  The purity in his voice and the raw emotions that he put into his singing and guitar playing the other evening was powerful.  He moved me to tears and I don’t say that lightly.

When Kevin said he was going to sing a Garth Brooks’ song, I thought, Oh no -boring!!!  No, I don’t like country music!  Give me jazz and I’m happy, but country….I’ll close my ears everytime!  Well, I may still not be a country music fan, but I am a Kevin Skinner fan!  If he were to record that song tomorrow, I would be one of the first in line to buy it!

Maya Muses:  I hope Kevin Skinner wins this year’s competition of America’s Got Talent and if not, then I hope he goes as far as Susan Boyle did in Britian’s Got Talent, but with a different outcome. 

If there are any smart record producers out there, they would give him a recording contract in a heartbeat!  Not only does he have a beautiful singing voice, he seems to be a really nice guy!

Photo Credits:  Google Images

Maya Muses:  Somehow it just seems a little too simple!  You decide!

In 1979 I met a young Iranian girl, Sharareh, who had come to Paris to study French.  Her father brought her to France and then returned to Iran.  Sharareh was left alone for the first time in her life in a strange city and a strange country, but she was excited to be in Paris and we became fast friends. 

A lot of turmoil was taking place in Iran; first the Shah, Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, was ousted and the Ayatollah Khomeini had became the new leader of the Islamic Republic.  Sharareh followed closely what was taking place in her homeland. She was afraid for her family and wanted to return home.  Her father contacted her and told her to stay in Paris.  She was better off, he said - so Sharareh remained.

1979 was not like 2009, there wasn’t the internet to keep her posted daily with what was going on with her family and friends.  There were few phone calls; international rates being so high.  The means of communication back then was taking pen to paper and waiting weeks, if not months, for a reply.

By 1980, I decided to go live in Madrid for a year, spending the summer on the Costa Brava and the Costa Dorada.  It was a great time of lying on the beaches in Spain by day and dancing the nights away until dawn at the clubs and discos.  When I returned to Paris in 1981, I went to see Sharareh.  The funny, bubbly girl that I had met in ‘79, however, had become a sad, homesick girl who missed her parents and her siblings.

By 1982 Sharareh came to a decision.  It didn’t matter that Khomeini’s leadership brought about a Cultural Revolution and a new order of Islamic values.  It didn’t matter that the newly established Islamic Judiciary system was sentencing Iranians to death for opposing these radical changes.  It didn’t matter that her family said she was better off remaining in France - and so Sharareh returned home.

Maya Muses:  I never heard from her again; I’ve thought about her from time to time.  Now, since the uprising and the silent protests going on in Iran, she has been on my mind even more.  What was her life like when she returned home?  A beautiful young girl who went to parties in Paris, was she now covered from head to toe?  Surely, she was married and had children.  Was she now worried about her children protesting in the streets of Tehran?  Did she ever think about her life in Paris?  Did she ever miss the late night talks in the cafés with me and another friend of ours;  evenings where we philosophized about life, as only young people can.  Did she ever regret her decision to return home?  I hope not.

Photo Credits:  Flickr

Ever since Michael Jackson passed away on Thursday, people have been telling their stories about the time they met the controversial Pop Star, so I decided to add mine here as well. 

This was back in the early ’90s and I decided to go to WH Smith on the rue de Rivoli to buy a children’s book in English to send to one of my nieces.  As I started up the stairs to the first floor section (things were arranged differently then) I ran into a man who looked like a Secret Service agent.  He was tall, well-built and well-dressed.  He was standing there not looking at any books, just looking out of place. 

I didn’t think too much about it as I started moving about, looking at books here and there.  I then saw another man looking much like the first one and I thought, Hmm, that’s odd.  As I made my way toward the other room, I came upon a third gentleman who resembled his first two colleagues and I remember thinking, If someone wants to meet a tall, well-dressed, “body guard” looking guy, this is the place to be!  Who would have thought it?! 

I went to the children’s section and practically bumped into a guy in a military style red and gold jacket, wearing a black hat, and a black mask over his mouth.

“Oh my God!  You scared me!” I said.

“I’m sorry.” Michael answered, holding his mask.

“That’s okay.” I said, still confused. 

I must admit that it took me several seconds to realize it was Michael Jackson.  My first thought was, Who is this guy in a get up trying to look like Michael Jackson?!  Then it dawned on me!  Duh!  The three body guards!  It is Michael Jackson!

We were the only two people there, not counting his body guards.  I didn’t want to disturb him, so I got my book and went downstairs to pay and left.  I started walking toward the Place de la Concorde and continued walking up the Champs-Elysées. 

About two hours later, after spending time at Virgin and several boutiques, I was back on the avenue when I saw a beautiful silver-gray stretch limo.  It’s not often you see one in Paris; many of the smaller streets are just too small for such a car.  I kept looking at it and who should appear as I was about to walk by?!  None other than Michael Jackson! 

I was amazed!  There was a look of recognition like, Hmm, I’ve seen her before!  So I said, “Michael, are you following me?!”

“Uh,…uh, no!” he said, somewhat surprised.

“I didn’t think so.” I smiled and walked on, delighted that he was flustered.

Maya Muses:  That evening I was having dinner with friends and I told them my story.  “Didn’t you ask him for an autograph?!” Didier asked.  No, the thought never entered my mind.  I respected his privacy, and besides, I don’t think there is any person’s autograph that I would want.

Okay, if I think about it….I would have liked Mother Theresa’s autograph and Mahatma Gandhi’s and if I go further back in time, then Jesus’….hmm, maybe I should have asked the Dalai Lama’s for his!

Photo Credits:  Google Images

If you haven’t heard about the young Belgian teen who decided she wanted 56 stars tattooed on her face, well you have now!  Kimberley Vlaminck loved her stars until her father saw them and saw stars, he was so angry!

Afraid to tell her father the truth, she made up the story that she had asked the tattooist to give her three stars and fell asleep.  When she awoke this tattoo artist (gone beserk) had given her 53 more stars than she had asked for!  Unfortunately for her, her story did not add up….afterall, how many people would fall asleep while someone is drilling 56 stars into your face with a needle?!!!

The teenager finally admitted that she had asked for all 56 star and Romanian tattooist, Rouslan Toumaniantz, was redeemed.  My question, however, is why would he consent to giving this young girl what she wanted?  Has he no scruples?  Was the 55£ for the job more important than the consequences that this act would have on this girl for the rest of her life?  Shouldn’t he have told her to think about what she wanted and try to talk her out of it?  It’s not like she was putting 56 stars on her behind where no one or very few people would see it!  This was going on her face for all the world to see, unless she decides to wear a Burka! 

Did the tattoo artist not think that what a teenager may find cool and hip; she’ll no longer feel that way as she gets older?!  Running around with 56 stars covering half your face while you’re a teen is not so cool when you’re a 30, 40, 50, or 60 year old lady! 

Maya Muses:  After seeing photos of Toumaniantz, I can see why he didn’t think there was anything wrong with giving Vlaminck what she wanted!  Next to him, her stars look pretty nice!

Photo Credits:  Google Images

If there hasn’t been enough problems in France with the Arab population not feeling integrated into French society (it’s not just a feeling, the majority are not) then French President Sarkozy wanting to ban the Burka in France will only add to the discord that already exist. 

Today I will play Devil’s Advocate and say that there are two sides to every story and the Burka is no different.  For most people in the Western World, the Burka represents suppression to Muslim women; a prison made of tissue.  The Burka is an outward symbol that the women wearing them are void of any freedom of expression.  We believe instead that these women are living under a male dictatorship imposed upon them by a religion, a father, a husband, an uncle or brother.

Yes, there are many women living under such circumstances, but the reality is, however, there are just as many women that are wearing the Burka by their own free choice.  Yes, it’s hard for most of us to comprehend, and therefore we automatically assume that this has been forced upon these women.  But!  Is it possible that someone would choose to be covered from head to toe even in the midst of summer and oppressive heat?  Apparently so!

By banning such attire, where is the freedom to choose what one wants to wear?  Imagine imposing upon nuns not to wear their habits?  For years Catholic nuns had no choice but to wear a habit, however, in this day and age, they have the right to choose whether to dress in a long habit, a short one, or not wear one at all.

If a woman wants to wear a Burka (for whatever mysterious reason that many Western women can not understand), then she should have that right!  However, if a woman does not want to wear one and is being forced to do so, that’s an entirely different issue and it should be banned.  The problem is - being able to discern the difference!

Maya Muses:  This is one battle that no matter what the outcome - people are not going to be happy!

Photo Credits:  Google Images and Flickr

Maya Muses: Getting ready to go out and do some serious shopping this afternoon even though it’s suppose to get up to 98° (37° C.) today, I was reminded of one of my favorite quotes by the ever effervescent Carrie Bradshaw!

“I like my money right where I can see it….hanging in my closet.”

Carrie Bradshaw
Sex and the City

When I went to the Keys with Jackie and Gérard, Patrick asked for only one thing. 

“Can you bring me back some seashells?” he said.

“Sure, Cheri, no problem!” I was already humming the Beach Boys song, “Bermuda, Bahama, come on pretty mama, Key Largo, Montago,….that’s where we wanna go, way down to Kokomo.”

I knew Patrick wanted seashells for his mom; not that we couldn’t go to the beach where we live and get seashells, or even the beach where his mom lives in Normandie and get seashells.  Nope!  The seashells in Florida are suppose to be,….well, seashells from Florida!  What can I say?

So off we went, Jackie, Gérard and I, down the Atlantic, then hopping from island to island, and finally making our way back up the Gulf of Mexico.  Did I find time to look for seashells during the entire trip, you ask.  Uhh,….no!  I finally remembered when we were ready to leave Sandy’s house in Saint-Petersburg and were about to head inland for Orlando before returning home!

“Oh no!” I moaned.  “I forgot to get Patrick some seashells!”

No problem!  Sandy came to the rescue!  She had seashells in her garden that she had picked from some of the wonderful beaches near her home.  She gave me a handful of big beautiful shells; I was relieved that I could give them to Patrick.

“Here’s your seashells, Darling!” I handed them over to Patrick when we got home.

“Wow!  They’re beautiful!” Patrick carefully took them into his hands.

“I thought you would like them.” I said, relieved that I hadn’t forgotten!

Patrick took them to his bathroom where he already has a whole collection of seashells.  A few minutes later he came back into the living room.  “Uh, where did you get the shells?” he asked.

“In Florida.” I said, a little hesitantly.

“I know,” he said, “but what beach?”

“Uh-h….”  Okay, so until now I had omitted the facts, but I didn’t want to lie to him, so I told him, “I only saw little shells that weren’t very pretty, (uh hum) so Sandy gave me shells that she had found.”

Patrick started laughing.  “Ahh!  That explains it!  There were cigarette butts in one of the shells that someone had used as an ashtray.  Now that you said Sandy gave them to you, it all makes sense!”

Maya Muses:  Okay!  Yes, Sandy smokes, but how was I to know that I should check out the seashells before putting them into a plastic bag!

Photo Credits:  Jackie’s Photos and Flickr

Not that many people may have known that I was gone, afterall, people still come to read the same old posts that remain the most popular or most controversial on my blog.  Everyday hundreds come to read what I wrote about Miley Cyrus, Charlotte Gainsbourg and her father Serge, or they dispute the lyrics to the Gilbert O’Sullivan song, Clair.  Clair Mills herself (who the song was written for) wrote a comment to set the record straight.  Others come to see the six Super Bowl Rings that the Pittsburgh Steelers have won; the latest ring boasts 63 diamonds and 3.61 carats…. it’s enough to make any girl drool!  Or else they comment on the ongoing saga between David, a father, fighting the Brazilian government to get back his son Sean.  The most surprising and the number one post that I wrote is: How to get the anti-reflective coating off of a pair of eyeglasses with Armour Etch!  (Yep!  I’m not making this one up!)

The time I’ve spent away from this blog has been an eye opening experience.  My problem is, I’m someone who doesn’t do things halfway.  Either I do something to the best of my ability, or I don’t do it at all.  There’s no in between, no give and take; it’s the Leo part of me that has too much pride to not do something as well as I can.

When I first started blogging I read some of the top blogs and their advice was for bloggers to blog on a daily basis; if you want people to come, they said, you need to write something new everyday, however, there are just so many hours in a day!  The time spent writing a post on a daily basis means either no time for other important things that I want to do, or several hours less sleep each night in order to do it all.  When I didn’t write a post, I felt like I wasn’t do my job although no one was pushing me to do it.

Thank goodness for the break I took with Jackie and Gérard!  Going down to the Keys with them, (not taking my laptop), and just enjoying the time away showed me that writing this blog should be an enjoyment and not an obligation.  The drawing that I’ve had in my head and have been wanting to do of Audrey Hepburn is no longer on the back burner, but something I will start on tomorrow.  Finishing the short-story that I started and giving it to a publisher I know will now take priority.  Yes, I’ll continue here to write my thoughts, my concerns, my opinions, or share things that I find amusing or interesting, but it will be when I have the time to and not because I’ve forced myself to do it.  Besides Jackie’s sister Stéphanie and her son Alexis will be coming for a visit next month and once again I’ll take another breather.

Maya Muses:  It’s a good feeling to write what I feel and that’s why I think most people start blogging in the first place.  I just have to keep that in mind as I start posting once again!

Photo Credits:  Flickr