My Latest Role Model

There are several women I've looked to in my life as inspirations. Maybe for their vibrant spirits or wisdom or perseverance, but they each bring a special quality and gift that I've drawn on in my life as something I want to aspire to. I don't always succeed but I endeavor to emulate some of these skills that for them are effortless.

There was my mother's ability to strut into a room with a blinding confidence. She always felt women must believe that each one was a treasure and fuck anyone who didn't agree. There's my boss Norma who has the most rarefied gift of persuasion I've ever seen--I've witnessed her turn a full room of skeptics into ardent believers. There's MaryCatherineFullofGrace's spirit of sweet optimism which always surfaces despite the many hard blows she's had to weather in her life and that's inspiring. There's my old college roommate Barbara Green who turned me on to blues music and whose singing voice was a cross between Leadbelly and Joni Mitchell. Like the blues she loved, she was bold, unapologetic and ballsy. There's Hollaback Girl, who in real life is an editor and writer and who gave me the courage to express my voice in a public forum. And there's Aunt Bert, who takes such exuberant pleasure in everything and everyone with a gusto that's infectious.

My newest role model is a woman I first connected with on some online chat boards and whom I finally met in person in Mississippi. Wompuss is one of those people who is a genuine owner of legitimate Southern charm. She can deliver a saucy retort or a funny truth, all while batting her eyes prettily. She's a mint julep with a Jim Beam back and I like women like that. Womp enjoys life to the fullest, but she won't sugarcoat the truth. She's a woman over a certain age who can still wear pink--and it looks more feminine and becoming on her than matronly or WASPY. She likes sparkling accessories and sparking conversation. She can roll with the boys and handle the girls. She's been known to initiate online dissertations about vibrators. She enjoys people and is ferociously loyal to her friends. She's thoughtful. I loved the way she screamed "Chicken!" when we met. And she's got a mind as dirty as mine. Maybe worse.

I appreciate her joie de vivre. I recently told her that her ethereal beauty and joyful spirit reminded me of Zelda Fitzgerald (and in this I meant in the way F. Scott Fitzgerald captured Zelda as a role model of strong Southern womanhood in his novels). She thanked me adding, "Wasn't she crazy?" Well, yes, but that was much later in her life. In my characterization, I was thinking of the Zelda that frolicked in the fountains in Paris in the roaring 20s. That has Womp written all over it.

Womp had some surgery recently. While a set back, Womp turned it into an opportunity for self deprication and a few laughs. She has the kind of positive spirit that makes one want to be laugh at life's troubles.

My mother would have thought Womp was a truly worthy treasure. I certainly do.