Easter Werge

So it’s Easter Sunday — the most colorful Sunday of the Baptist Church calendar. This morning I sat in my seat and marveled as all the women and kids in their beautiful Easter outfits and hats came in and got settled. There was a lady a few rows in front of me wearing the most GORGEOUS hat I think I’ve ever seen. I’m sure the three people whose views it was obstructing felt a little differently about the hat than I did…

But I digress.

I was sitting next to what I like to call a Pew-varotti. It’s a werge (word merge) I coined myself:


noun \pyĂŒ-və-rĂ€-tē\

1 :The person sitting next to you in the church pew who takes his/her vocals a little too seriously and sings The Lord’s Prayer and/or congregational hymn as if they’re headlining a show at Carnegie Hall — Ă  la Luciano Pavarotti

Yeah. Pavarotti in an Easter crown. I really took the time to do that.

Moving past that… you guys know what I mean, right? We’ve all had the privilege of sitting next to these folks. They sing in full voice while moving their head and shoulders like they’re conducting a symphony… I always wonder — especially when they actually have great voices — why they don’t just join the choir. I like to imagine there was a big fight at choir rehearsal one night over who got to sing the solo at pastor’s anniversary celebration, and he/she was voted out and now has no place to showcase their skills except for in the pews during service. Sure it’s probably more likely that the person is in a different choir than the one that’s singing on that day, or they don’t have the free time in their schedule to join and attend choir rehearsals, but I prefer to assume drama, and then work backwards from there.

Like my new werge? Then use it, pass it on and make mama proud.

And Happy Easter to all you Easter celebrators!!!

Original illustration

From the Blog to the Stage: My Latino Teeth

So here’s a short new bit that combines the stories of my recent root canal and the tale of my visit to the dentist’s office last year due to evil popcorn. Both trips hurt my mouth, my bank account, but most of all, my feelings. Go back and check out the earlier post after the vid if you like. Perhaps you’ve had a similar visit?…

I hope you enjoy.

My first gold tooth a.k.a. I hate my dentist


So it’s taken a while — partly because I’m broke and partly because I have a very popular dentist — but I recently finished getting a crown on a molar I broke last year while eating a piece of popcorn. You may or may not remember this poignant haiku

It ended up costing way more than $600. And the first temporary fell out twice — once while I was out to lunch with friends. But that was nowhere near the most embarrassing part of this process. No… that precious moment came when my dentist was fitting me for the permanent crown and he brought out a mirror and an array of porcelain samples varying in color from pretty damn white to what I can only describe as Mountain Dew. He then proceeded to hold what I thought was a relatively yellow tooth up to my tooth in the mirror and said, “What do you think about this one? I think this is about right.”

Dude, are you serious?

That tooth looks like it’s been out drinking cigarettes and smoking coffee all its life. My teeth are not that color. I told him to go up a couple shades lighter. But he picked the tooth right next to the coffee/cig tooth and said, “Nah, I think this one is way too white.”

“Way too white?” No really, am I being punked?

Because I feel like I should have the option to have a snow white tooth in my mouth if that’s what I want. If I want the whitest tooth on that color palette, I should be able to get it as long as my check clears… Maybe my whole plan was to start with a new white tooth and Crest White Strip it up until they all match… Or maybe I wanted my new crown to inspire my other teeth to be better on some Obama “Yes We Can” ish. But I shouldn’t have been forced to take the tooth Dr. Davis thinks I should have.

Now, I know I’m prone to exaggeration, but I literally (figuratively) feel like I have a gold tooth in my mouth. Seriously… I open my mouth wide enough and I feel compelled to quote Kool G. Rap lyrics and sing Mary J. Blige hooks. Do you understand?


My boy said it’s not that bad, but for the sake of the funny, let’s just say it is ;)

Talk later,