Hard Candy Christmas
My favorite movie as a child centered around a group of…ahem…women of the night. that were in danger of losing their shared home.
It was 1982 and I was 8.
The movie? Dolly Parton’s
“The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas.”
I did not see this movie at the theater though, I saw it by borrowing the VHS tape from Clevenger’s market in Morristown, Tennessee. Clevengers carried everything you could ever need: diapers for your baby, a chek cola and even a pickled egg.
Me and my cousin Connie slapped our change onto the counter where the clerk slid the plastic tape over to us. We then skipped back to her mother’s trailer 2 miles down the dirt road. We waited for her mother to leave for her night shift at Magnavox, and we popped the tape into the VCR that was in the only TV they owned. It was also in her mother’s bedroom.
It was the first time I saw women so “at ease”. It was also the fist time I saw a black woman singing on TV.
And while I caught the plot of the movie pretty quickly at the beginning, I still did not know WHAT they were doing to make money.
But it didn’t matter.
The lesson I learned from that movie was to:
- Stick together: these women lived communally and shared everything- even at the end they helped eachother pack
- 2. Use what you have: I didn’t know what their talent was, but they seemed to be good at it because they had lots of customers- even the Sheriff! They identified their strengths and used them to earn income.
- 3. And if things don’t work out? Have a Plan B.
That’s what the theme song of the movie is all about: having a plan B- especially when it is a hard Candy Christmas.
In the movie, the camera pans around the home as the women pack up to leave. They had to raise money to save the place and of course they didn’t. So as the camera stops on each woman, she says what her plan B is going to be: one will learn to sew, one will find a man, one will drive into the sunset.
As a child, I can see clearly that we always have other options. There is always a Plan B. Even if we don’t want there to be.
The meaning of hard Candy Christmas is that life can be sour and sweet at the same time. And that is how I am feeling as I prepare for the first Christmas without my mother. There is part of me that misses her. That wishes I could have one more pan of her dinner rolls. That i could still hear her singing Christmas songs as she put her Cornish hens in the oven.
But she is still with me. Even if not on earth, I can feel her. Pushing me ever so gently to stay in the game. To keep moving. Even on the days I want to cry. Even on the days I want to stay in my yoga pants and ratty T-shirt. I am grateful for the friends who welcome me, holy shirt and all.
Let’s Get Sentered
