She So Funny

♫ I wish you bluebirds in the spring to give your heart a song to sing and then a kiss, but more than this I wish you love🎜

Today I learned that Valentine's Day may have an origin even bloodier than the eponymous Chicago massacre.

If the internet is to be believed, Lupercalia was an ancient Roman mid - Februrary festival honoring the she-wolf who nurtured the abandonded twins, Romulus & Remus.         The ritual began with Luperci (a sect of Roman priests) sacrificing goats (representing sexuality) AND a dog. The sacrificial blood was then smeared on the foreheads of naked Luperci. After the blood was removed with milk soaked wool, feasting ensued.

Weilding strips of the sacrificial goat hide, naked Luperci ran through the public square whipping women; who exposed their skin to receive their fertility anointing.


Men randomly chose from a jar the name of a woman to be coupled with for the duration of the festival. Some actually fell in love and married.

Valentine's Day is a commercial holiday with romantic pretensions and a sanguine provenance, without even mentioning those named Valentine, executed by Roman Emperor Claudius II.


Rhonda Hansome is a comic, actor, director, story teller and coach. She frequently appears on webseries, podcasts and radio shows. Hear her every Monday, noon - 2, on John Fugelsang's SiriusXM Insight show Tell Me Everything. 7 AM Fri. Feb. 15th, catch Rhonda on WBAI FM 99.5 on Waking Up With Julianna Forlano.

Women with beautiful salt and pepper hair are glorious.
 Unapologetically jubuliant grey follicles declare confidence.
 




"Traditionally black and Latina subcultures have been proudly rocking their baby hairs since birth. Baby hairs are those small, very fine, wispy hairs located around the edges of your hair. They can be long, short, or even curly, depending on your hair type and texture. Typically found on children (hence the word "baby"), they can also follow you into adulthood."


Which brings me to my trauma. Reader beware. This does not end well.

Folks know my regrets about my move from Bed-Stuy to South Bronx, include having NO preferred amenities nearby, like my bank, shoe repair, a good restaurant, or a clean reliable beauty salon.

There's a grimy salon around the corner, that gives cold water pedicures. Need I say, I speak the 1st language of no one in the room? Want nuanced communication concerning your intimate beauty treatments? 
Forget About It! 
Unless it's an emergency- and it was. 
I had to calm my eye brows down to Freda Khalo level stat. 
Yes, I'm stuck on stupid. I asked for the full face wax. 

I knew I was in trouble when I had to convince her to do me (so to speak) on a bed in a private room, not on a chair in the salon front window. It was much more painful than I remembered but my eye brows actually looked good. My face was on fire but my brows looked good though. 

At home upon closer inspection of my stinging face, little bumpy patches roamed free range. To use an ancient term, "My brows were on fleek!" But where the fuck were my Lustrous Black Baby Hairs????!!!

My forehead and entire right temple was waxed into oblivion. I'd reveled in newly grown baby hairs for all of 1day. I now had a black mangy crescent framing my thin white roots. Not a pretty picture. That's why I'm not posting it.

What made me think she'd heed my 6 caveats to "Don't touch my hairline."? 
Did I mention I'm stuck on stupid? 

Warning: When I have a different hairstyle EVERY time you see me, don't ask me, "Is that your hair?" Yes it is & I have the receipts!

I figured I'd missed the volunteer firehouse where I was hired to perform at a fundraiser.
I pulled into a yard to maneuver.
While poised in the driveway to make a left turn I was hit and projected parallel to the lawn.

Yes, pretty scary and I was really shaken up.

No one saw the impact, but everyone who heard it appeared and sprang into concerned action.

Though roughed up and shaking, thank goodness, I walked away.

Oddly enough, I performed at the firehouse fundraiser and KILLED!


Could it be that because I'd been blocked in by a Taco Truck, at my parking lot and unable to drive to my late night spot at Broadway Comedy Club...
I didn't have to pay $200.00 parking this month?
Sad, true and funny in a WTF kind of way.

But what continues to make me smile, shake my head and chuckle?
My involuntary reaction to the state trooper who asked for my license, insurance and registration.
Arousal. That's right. Arousal. 

One minute I thought I'd breathed my last breath.
Then a young state trooper looked at me.

Flesh shouts what mouth won't speak
Perfume rushing in a dry river bed
Antique glistening unseen
In moonlight
Concedes
To body betrayed

I rode in a fire truck for the 1st time that night, grateful to be alive.


Rhonda Hansome is a actress, director, comedian and story teller.

Rhonda can be heard every Monday 2-5 PM on John Fugelsan's
Tell Me Everything on Sirius XM ch 121.

Hear her true life story and celebrate reproductive rights Nov. 6th: