Dancing with Myself

Greetings from Natchitoches, Louisiana

Whoo, Whoo!

For the record: I am here in Natchitoches, Louisiana to address the Redbone Heritage Foundation. I'd link it, but I'm working under duress at the moment, so look it up yourself. I'd promise to come back and add the links, but I never do, so why bullshit? Eh? The Redbone Heritage Foundation (RHF) is the brainchild of my friend, Don Marler. He has devoted a lifetime to researching and writing about Louisiana's Redbones. Google him, too. They got off to a rocky start last year for several reasons.

This year they invited me to speak to them about whatever I thought was important. That's hard to sum up in less than an hour. Loving a challenge, I accepted. So here I am.

But wait, there's more to the story. No, it's too confusing. I can't even start here. Maybe if I try very hard I can summarize it somewhat. Here's my effort. Okay, first of all, not everyone likes each other. Everyone thinks everyone else has either (1) an agenda, or (2) a psychological disorder. I'm not sure they're not all right. So far, I'm the only one I'm sure is sane. There are at least three distinct groups, although I'm not entirely happy with the word "group." It's more like a random association of strangers who agreed to bond only to do war with another random group.

I had dinner with Group 1 of the Redbone wars. Group 1 is Stacy, Gabe, Don. Don's wife Sybil was with us as well, and although she has a good mind and a strong opinion, she's not really one of the players in the group.

Tomorrow Group 2 arrives. That would be my cousins Linda, Brenda, Terry, and Jim. Kim may also be here, but it's not certain. Another cousin, Lucille, may come, but the odds are long. Although we are as an opinionated a bunch that ever came along the pike, we are not here with an agenda. That I'm aware of.

Group 3 is not here. That would be Larry and LV. They're also cousins. LV is closer in both kinship lines and cultural experience. Larry's an interesting person. I won't meet him this week-end, and that's too bad. It's hard to tell the crazy ones from the normal ones if they won't stand next to each other for you to study their twitches. So to speak.

I am going to have so much fun this week-end. They all think I'm as crazy as a loon, so we all begin on equal footing.

If no one hears from me in the next several days, notify the authorities.

Doing Other Things

I've been involved with my other life, that one where I'm Mugwump to the Snapping Turtle Clan of the Bearhead Creek Redbones.  According to my cousin LV, a mugwump is someone who has his rump on one side of the fence and his mug on the other.  It also got some use in the mid-1800s as someone who is pompous and pretentious, refuses to listen to reason, and won't go along.  Just because.  It also is an Algonquian word for Big Chief.  I figure since I have DNA evidence of at least three races, I can only be mugwump if the high heel fits, and my experience is No high heel really fits.  Usually we have to adjust if we insist on wearing high heels.

But I digress.  My Redbone people are having birth pains.  Our skin may be dark, but it is thin.  We take umbrage easily.  I was banned from one of their discussion groups for using the word fuck in an email to several members of the group.  Since the conversation we were having was interesting, I was forced to organize a second group so we could continue.

I know a lot of people don't say the word fuck, but I do, so what the heck.  Don't use it.  Whether or not you find it offensive is a choice you make.  You shouldn't use it.  It's best not to mix up the roles of our senses.  You have control over what you say, but not over what you might hear.  You can determine the value you give to words, but you have no right to limit how others might choose to express themselves.  If someone's language offends you, stop reading.  See how easy that was?

This past week my new discussion group discussed what a Redbone is, as well as where the word possibly comes from.  It was a very interesting conversation.  We're a very interesting group of people, us Redbones, and while we don't want to talk about it all that much, we don't want you talking about it either. The internet has allowed us to form a virtual community, and like small town America everywhere, we've been going at it like Democrats and Republicans ever since.

Living out here in California forces me to know most of these people only cyberly.  It disadvantages me in dealing with them.  Frankly, from this distance I'm not sure which ones are the ones certifiable.  I can't tell the difference just by how they carry on over the internet and in public.

Several of the important players don't like each other.  That's too bad.  A good conversation shouldn't depend on people liking each other.  When people seriously detest each other, we go to a more formal format, but hopefully we don't stop talking.

I want all of the principle players engaged in the discussion of the definition of the people called Redbone.  Getting them all into the same conversation has been like herding cats.

That's what I've been doing.  As Mugwump to the Snapping Turtle Clan of the Bearhead Creek Redbones, I've been invited to speak to to the Redbone Heritage Foundation in Natchitoches, Louisiana on September 15, 2006.  In other words, I'm taking the show on the road.  I am presenting my stand up comedy routine called My Mother's People, or No Matter Where You Go, There You Are.  Mugwump is a very important level achieved among the Bearhead Creek Redbones.   

The status of mugwump is a self-assumed and self-proclaimed one, just as is membership in the Snapping Turtle Clan.  Usually however, you find out about your membership in the clan because someone else notices how you unreasonably will not let go of anything you seize upon.  It was one of my sisters who told me that I belonged to the Snapping Turtles.  I remember it like it was yesterday.  One of them, I forget which one, snapped at me and said, "You just won't let go, will you?  Just like a damned old snapping turtle." 

Anyone comfortable with all of the meanings of the word can declare himself enlightened and esteemed and reap the rewards for attaining such a great height.  You know you're there when out of the blue someone who is borderline both mentally and otherwise, attacks you for no reason in front of your relatives.  Know that when someone calls himself mugwump, he has the scars to prove it.