Cassone Entertainment and Media: 9/2/18

Saturday, September 8, 2018

Good morning - September 8, 2018 - Photography by Cassone

Friday, September 7, 2018

I Feel Great

So fresh and so clean 😁 Great job, Jimmy!

Taken at Great Barber Cuts in

Wilton Manors, FL

Stylist: Jimmy

I made a decision....

I made a decision. After 3 years and 9 months of growth. The longest I ever grew it. Here lays my hair. 🤣😆😊🤗

Good morning - September 7, 2018 - Photography by Cassone

Wednesday, September 5, 2018

Fallen Angel - Model: Diva Kingsley - Photography by Cassone - New Edit

Good morning - September 5, 2018 - Photography by Cassone

Monday, September 3, 2018

An Open Letter to My Mom on Her 78th Birthday

Dear Mom,

Happy birthday, Mom. Here we are at the dawning of another September 4^th, as you would have been 78 years old, if you were still ‘alive’ – though I still feel your presence here now more than ever. Next March will mark the 20^th year since your passing and this upcoming October will be 23 years since Dad passed away. I marvel at how much time has gone by, yet sometimes it seems as though we were talking just yesterday. People say it gets easier with the passing of time, yet I tend to think that notion is just to make one feel better. Losing loved one’s sucks and the older I get; the more people pass on and with much more frequency it seems. Especially in this day of social media. I know you don’t know too much about that, or maybe you do. Well, with it, one seems to find out about even more passing’s – sometimes daily. So, you can tend to feel like you are in a constant grieving period.

I am sure you know Mike passed away last August. I hadn’t realized losing a sibling would be so hard, but it is. The difficulty lies in the guilt I feel that he and I weren’t closer than maybe we could have been, and the sadness remains that I am not that close with my remaining siblings. I love them, I think they know that I love them, but because of my own life issues – especially in recent years – I just keep them at an arm’s length distance. It is safer – for me. Besides when I bring you up to my sister all she does is criticize you. After all these years, she won’t let you rest in peace and as smart as she is; the more she lashes out AT me ABOUT you, the further I want to run away from her. Dan, on the other hand, I love and respect and feel like he and I are alike more so regarding needing space simply because we are hardworking people. I have always felt closest to him. As for your grandkids, oh my goodness, you would be so very proud of both of them and all they have accomplished.

You see, I have lost a lot of people. I take care of them, nurture, nurse… you know, that is me. The caregiver. Since I moved down to Florida twelve years ago, I had two roommates, Walter and Doug, who I cared for through their lengthy illnesses and saw them pass away. Walter was sad enough, but Doug – I didn’t see it coming. Even though he was in such declining health for so long, he was still making plans. Daily he would run through a seeming, endless litany of things he still wanted to do, places he wanted to go, visits to his daughter and her family, seeing his granddaughter grow up. Even up to the night before he died.

I had worked a ridiculously long day that day. Looking back, I have noted it was my longest shift ever at my ‘day’ job. Anyway, I had put in a near 15-hour day. I kept up with Doug throughout that day, per usual, checking on him via phone calls and text messages. He had a scheduled doctor’s appointment the next day and he called me around 9:30pm to tell me to not be mad, but he was gonna go ahead and take his shower and he would call me after he was done and settled. One of our rules/agreements through his health dip was that I or one of his health aides were to be there any time he showered. I hesitantly agreed and stressed for an hour and a half before he called me back to tell me he was all done. Fresh and clean as a whistle, he laughingly reported. We quipped and joked as we normally had, and he was to order himself some dinner for delivery.

By the time I got home just before midnight, I was surely exhausted. Doug was in the middle of his seemingly realized very late dinner and was chatty. I just sat at the dining room table sort of in a stupor, knowing I had to be up in just a handful of hours to do it all over again. Between Doug’s chatter and our crazy cat, Sam, meowing his head off, I just smiled and nodded. Normally, when I would work these crazy hours, I still tried to take the time to sit with Doug on the patio and chit chat over a cocktail. I couldn’t do it that night, but I wish I had.

In a profound move, after Doug had been talking for a bit to my ever-growing silence, he wheeled himself half way out of his bedroom. He just kinda hung there – halfway in the doorway to the living/dining room area yet remaining partly in his bedroom. It occurred to me that he stopped talking and interrupted his very late dinner to check on me. Once he saw that I was too tired, and we weren’t going to go on the patio for our nightly kiki, which I think he figured that since he had already closed the patio blinds for the night, he started on that daily litany of things he still wanted to do. Only this time, among the getting back to driving again, visiting his family, going to hang out with his bar buddies – he abruptly said, “Well, meh…” stopped; long staring at the unopened blinds – and wheeled himself back in to his room, almost defeated. The abrupt ending was my cue to head to bed for the night. I told him good night and went to retire to my room. As I laid in bed, I realized I didn’t tell him ‘I love you’ as I normally did. Now, settled in to my bed, I was too tired to get back up.

The next morning, it was a scurry as I rushed to get ready for my ride to pick me up. My good friend, Val, an angel on earth who I swear you sent to me to help me get through life – along with Pam, Albert, Anya, Keronce, Diva, John, Cat and Judy, any queen that ever gave me a gig, a handful of coworkers and prayer warriors like Gladys and Kaiwana – the angels on earth in my life are countless – praise God. Anyway, Doug happened to be up and was doing his normal morning routine, as he had that doctor’s appointment later that day, we quipped and joked like two Judy’s – per usual. As I hurried out the door, I said, ‘see you later’ and while rushing to the car, I realized (in passing) that again, I didn’t say ‘I love you.’

Work was all a fluster, issue after issue was hitting me harder than usual that day. In hindsight, it was almost as though the stars were aligned to have me be very busy and very distracted. I was so frantic that my coworker, Felicia, could see it in my face I was uber stressed and she treated me to lunch that day. Something she had never done before, but I was glad she did, and little did I know at the time that was more of a spiritual gesture. A prayer warrior herself, I later recognized that as a spirit to spirit connection. It was like God was guiding someone to get me the nourishment to get me through the rest of a very long day.

Twice along the way that day, I thought to call and check on Doug – per usual, but got distracted and kept reminding myself he had that doctor’s appointment and we would catch up later. Mom, it never happened. I was on a crisis call with a vendor, when at 3:00pm my cell phone rang. Once I saw it was Doug’s daughter on the caller ID, my heart sank. I quickly ended the call with the vendor on my work phone and picked up my cell phone. She told me with fierce and sudden fashion, that the transportation for his doctor’s office had picked him up, he coded and died suddenly in transit to the doctor’s appointment.

I just flung the cell phone across my desk and howled. I was crying uncontrollably – and according to co-workers – quite loudly. I couldn’t contain myself for several minutes. It was a shock to my universe. I cried so hard, I hollered. It was a deep, guttural soul cry. I was inconsolable. It is the sound you never forget, and I am always surprised when I realize it is coming from me. There have only been three other times in life I have made such a sound and that was when I lost you and our dear friend, Ramona and when I realized someone I really, really loved was never going to love me back in the same way. I remember, Rosa, my office mate’s look on her face, like “Damn.” That just happened? Not realizing all the while, his poor daughter heard all of it and was patiently waiting for me to pick the phone up. I had to get out of there.

I wanted to get home; quick, fast and in a hurry and thankfully my co-worker Catherine got me there. The first thing I noticed when I got home was how calm Sam, the cat, was. All the week before, he was hounding Doug, constantly up under him and kept trying to get our attention in many ways, unlike before. He even once got up in the bed with Doug and got in his face, meowing frantically and the poor dear feline got his tail run over by Doug’s wheelchair because he was following him so closely. And now he was normal just like that *snaps fingers* – it freaked me out. That cat had to find another home, Mom. Anyway, I settled myself and called his daughter back and then it was all about planning for life after Doug,

Here today, gone today.

Losing Doug is right up there with you, Dad, Googles and Mike. He was like a second father to me, I now know and realize. He knew it too. We only knew each other a handful of years. When I first moved in with him, he was on a cane, then the walker, then the wheelchair. I took care of him because he took me in and helped me, like so many others. I slowly witnessed his social circle dwindle the sicker he got. I got to the point where I couldn’t see leaving the situation. I left Walter a week before he went in to a nursing home, only because his frantic lover drove me out and lied to and about me to his sister or lied to me about his sister – that situation got so effed up that I thought the lover was plotting my death at one point, so I HAD to leave. But when it came to Doug, no way. I was in it for the long haul. Despite all his health issues, we laughed more than we cried. He was a sweet, funny, vibrant and loving friend. I am all about duty and trying to do right by people – it was how you raised me, and Lord knows I had a lot of practice by taking care of you.

My faith tells me that you already know about all of this and all that happened before this and since. I would like to think you and Mike have reconciled and both of you have met Doug, and Walter, all the many others who have passed away since my last letter to you nine years ago. I share it with you because you, of all the people ever to know me in life know that writing, creating, even doing my drag shows, my photography – all of it – is my therapy. Keronce, of all people, gets on me all the time to get to it. I am not living. I am no longer utilizing my God-given talents, like I was put on this earth to do and he wants to know why. I am afraid to live. I am afraid to be happy, because I don’t know what true happiness looks like, Mom. That is one of the reasons why.

*****

Austin called me out of the blue last week to ‘check on me.’ Yes, my second ex from way, way back when I thought having a lover in life was a possibility. He and other friends have been concerned because I have been distant, I haven’t been sociable in a while. The fact that I haven’t done a show in almost a year and a half shocks them. I no longer conform and sit and chit chat about this or that. I live alone now. I have given away or trashed most – and I do mean most - of my earthly possessions. I seem depressed. Even suicidal.

I have thought, Mom, that I may be seeing you again sooner rather than later and no, I am not suicidal. Though, I do realize why some may think that about me because I have drastically changed in recent years. That is because so much LIFE has been happening, but Austin is right and so is Keronce, I haven’t been truly living it fully for awhile.

That is for sure, Mom. You see, as a caregiver and even though I know people die, I felt a lot of guilt after Doug’s passing. Even though everybody says I did all I could, even he touted about how I went above and beyond a mere ‘roommate,’ even friend. I felt I should have done more. I shouldn’t have worked so much, though I was doing that for the both of us and in case I would have to take over the bills if he had to go to a nursing home or rehab facility. That all came to pass, and I had to take over any way, but it wasn’t what I ever imagined and not when I thought it would happen either.

I look back on that night before and hindsight reveals itself clearer in its reflection. When Doug was going through his nightly litany and abruptly stopped, he was looking out and over at the closed blinds to the patio. It was as though he was looking out in to eternity though, thinking back. I wonder did he have an inkling. Did he know? That cat knew, that is for certain.

Doug’s daughter helped me find a new home for Sam, the cat. It was one of Doug’s bartender friends. He generously came to get Sam the week after Doug passed away and he, himself suddenly passed away three weeks later. I never really knew what happened to the cat and it is one of the biggest regrets I have had in life. I should have done better. Of course, my better sense tells me that I didn’t know that guy was gonna die, but he did.

I miss Doug and his friendship terribly. He was a great listener, very supportive of my art and he reminded me of the best of an era of people from my life – you, dad, and Googles (my Grandma Margaret, as a reminder for my readers). He reminded me of home through his stories, his wit, his cooking and caring for him was a reminder of the most basic fundamentals about life you all taught me.

You would think I would take comfort in that alone and knowing from the man himself that he knew I did all I could for him would be enough, and it should be. I pray about it and for peace of my mind, heart and soul all the time because I do realize more and more about my own mortality, the older I get. I know I am closer to the end, much more than the beginning and even the middle and like a reflection over a calming pond it reveals itself clearer with each passing moment, as it quells itself still.

I look back on our family history. You and Dad died in your 50s, now Mike; not to mention most of the Cassone men died before 60, except for Uncle Don and Uncle Tony. So, how much time do I have really? Given family health history and my own bad health and some questionable life decisions. I know that sounds cynical and final, but it is truly how I feel and while I can say I haven’t given up on life, because I haven’t – but I sure as hell doubt I will ever be truly happy in it. So, why stick around?

For the service of and to love others one could say, okay – maybe. For my art, why bother? Nobody really pays attention to me. I create all this art – numerous books, galleries of photography, videos, did drag shows, plays, et and if I am honest with myself, Mom… Not too many are paying attention. So, why the hell should I keep creating if I have no audience? What is the effing point? Pardon me.

Sometimes I feel like I am feeling sorry for myself and should just create because God gave me this talent and I should be ashamed to even question my gifts, and just keep giving. Keep creating and whatever happens, happens. The artist in me tells me that, Mom. You in me tells me that, because I can hear you telling me to keep going. To calm down and just ‘go with the flow.’”

But lately, I am tired … REALLY tired and just can’t bring myself to that creative space and it is a killer of the spirit. Then when people pressure me to do, do, do – it is all for naught.

One can go with the flow only so long before they find themselves drowning.

So, when people push and pry and wonder why I haven’t done any shows – or why this - or why that; I honestly have nothing for them. Like I said, too much life (and death) going on. Suicide is not an option for me because I have lost a few to that and while I don’t curse them for their decision, it isn’t for me – especially now that I know what it feels like to be one left behind by someone who does such. That is just about the amount of fight I have in me and that is where I actually DO find some hope.

Mom, it is a constant, daily fight to keep going, but I do it just because that is what one does. I hope I do find it in me to keep creating my art; whether I find an audience or not. I do know God has blessed me with it. I know I am resilient, you taught me to be. I also ask you to pray for my anxiety to go away, or at least pare down considerably. That has a lot to do with my distancing myself from people, from situations, crowds and such. The more time goes by, the more anxious I get and the more reclusive I become.

It’s ironic, I used to joke that ‘I want to be a recluse when I grow up.’ It’s not that funny anymore. When one cringes and jumps when the phone rings, it is past ludicrous. And I am supposed to get in drag and face a critical crowd? I will take a pass on that one for now, thank you.

*****

One last thing, I want you to know that I now know about the ‘secret’ you were telling me about on your last birthday. I am no longer staying silent about it and whoever reads this and finds out about it will just have to deal with it. I have been dealing with it – for years and it isn’t a bad thing at all. No shame in it for any reason and I am actually PROUD OF YOU!!!! I am so glad you told me, and I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do with that information, but I feel it is the right thing because the person tried to reach out to me and I was willing. However, something happened, and I don’t know if it got lost in translation, but if they are reading this I am ready to meet you now and I hope it is not too late.

It was your last birthday on earth, Mom. Who knew then you would pass away six months later? God, if only I knew. Anyway, you were so cool that day. The older I got, the more you treated me as an equal adult and it made our relationship so special. I could share anything with you like a best friend. You were my best friend, though I didn’t know it then. You just had to get it off your chest and yet you didn’t come right out with the exact details, but lead me to believe you had another child before the siblings I know. I didn’t know what had happened, but you made it clear it was one of your big regrets and you always wondered what if…?

At the time, I didn’t press it and we carried on like two Judy’s. Remember the ride home. As we listened to Shirley Bassey and Tina Turner, you pointed out that huge rainbow in the sky and told me that is where all ‘your dreams and desires lay.’ You and Dad both had romantic views on such things like rainbows, the moon and stars. It is where I get it from.

Well, about five years ago, a social worker from a Michigan adoption agency reached out to me telling me of an older brother who was looking for his birth family. He discovered me when he sought you out only to discover your death certificate in the agencies search. Since I was the one who reported your death and am the lone Cassone of your children, I was the one they reached. I granted them permission and gave them all of my personal information for him (my new eldest brother/sibling) to contact me.

They told me that he may or may not contact me now that he knew you had passed away, but ‘one never knows.’ He may have tried to contact me, I don’t know for sure. I did share with one of my other siblings about it, but again – we keep family secrets secret. I don’t know if he looked me up and saw all the drag and just couldn’t do it – or what.

What I can tell you, Mom – and what the take away for me was – he did seek you out! And that was the most important thing, to me. If he didn’t know and if he ever reads this, I want him to know that the woman who spoke to me on her last birthday on this earth about him spoke to me in a whisper, but it was as if she wanted to shout it out to the world. She loved all of her children, but in her life, her home situation at 19 years of age, fresh out of high school… there was no way Googles was going to let her have a baby in her house (could have been the case), nor did she have the means at the time to properly take care of it and she surely was not going to have an abortion.

Mom, I know you would have raised him as your own if you could have at the time and your best showcase of love was to give him up to someone who could. The best thing is that the adoption agency told me the man had a great life, a great upbringing, thrived in school and his career; had a loving wife and three sons (if I remember correctly) – all who were also thriving in life. You probably already know this all by now and so does everybody else up there… LOL.

I hope he reads this and sends me a message.

We will just put that out in to the universe.

Mom, I still pray to you and for you nightly and even though I don’t call people on the phone like I used to, I know you know I think about and pray for them nightly as well. Some have passed on and most, thankfully (for my own selfish reasons) are still here in the present. Though their circumstances change, my prayer remains the same, as I have my own litany and it grows and grows daily to all the people who have touched me in this life.

That is the number one fundamental thing I am most thankful to you for, Mom. You taught me how to pray and all about faith and “going with the flow.” Thank you because without it, I truly don’t know where I would be as it can always, always be worse.

Blessings, love & (((Diva Hugs))),

Your son,

(I go by) Cassone (now) 😊

Preacher Lawson Episode 6 (LA Comedy Scene)

Neneh Cherry - Twisted

Ahhh, a nice fusion of hip hop and smooth jazz. I could be at a bar, right after five having a cocktail listening to this. Neneh Cherry is such a unique (and underrated) artist. This is from the HOMEBREW album and after 25 years, it sounds just as fresh and clean as it did the first time I hear it.