Saturday, December 18, 2021

obituary | renay mandel corren


Obituary

Renay Mandel Corren 

El Paso, TX


A plus-sized Jewish lady redneck died in El Paso on Saturday.

 

Of itself hardly news, or good news if you're the type that subscribes to the notion that anybody not named you dying in El Paso, Texas is good news. In which case have I got news for you: the bawdy, fertile, redheaded matriarch of a sprawling Jewish-Mexican-Redneck American family has kicked it. This was not good news to Renay Mandel Corren's many surviving children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, many of whom she even knew and, in her own way, loved. There will be much mourning in the many glamorous locales she went bankrupt in: McKeesport, PA, Renay's birthplace and where she first fell in love with ham, and atheism; Fayetteville and Kill Devil Hills, NC, where Renay's dreams, credit rating and marriage are all buried; and of course Miami, FL, where Renay's parents, uncles, aunts, and eternal hopes of all Miami Dolphins fans everywhere, are all buried pretty deep. Renay was preceded in death by Don Shula.

 

Because she was my mother, the death of zaftig good-time gal Renay Corren at the impossible old age of 84 is newsworthy to me, and I treat it with the same respect and reverence she had for, well, nothing. A more disrespectful, trash-reading, talking and watching woman in NC, FL or TX was not to be found. Hers was an itinerant, much-lived life, a Yankee Florida liberal Jewish Tough Gal who bowled 'em in Japan, rolled 'em in North Carolina and was a singularly unique parent. Often frustrated by the stifling, conservative culture of the South, Renay turned her voracious mind to the home front, becoming a model stay at home parent, a supermom, really, just the perfect PTA lady, volunteer, amateur baker and-AHHAHAA HA! HA! HA! Just kidding, y'all! Renay - Rosie to her friends, and this was a broad who never met a stranger - worked double shifts with Doreen, ate a ton of carbs with Bernie, and could occasionally be stirred to stew some stuffed cabbage for the kids. She played cards like a shark, bowled and played cribbage like a pro, and laughed with the boys until the wee hours, long after the last pin dropped. At one point in the 1980's, Renay was the 11th or 12th-ranked woman in cribbage in America, and while that could be a lie, it sounds great in print. She also told us she came up with the name for Sunoco, and I choose to believe this, too. Yes, Renay lied a lot. But on the plus side, Renay didn't cook, she didn't clean, and she was lousy with money, too. Here's what Renay was great at: dyeing her red roots, weekly manicures, dirty jokes, pier fishing, rolling joints and buying dirty magazines. She said she read them for the articles, but filthy free speech was really Renay's thing. Hers was a bawdy, rowdy life lived large, broke and loud. We thought Renay could not be killed. God knows, people tried. A lot. Renay has been toying with death for a decades, but always beating it and running off in her silver Chevy Nova. Covid couldn't kill Renay. Neither could pneumonia twice, infections, blood clots, bad feet, breast cancer twice, two mastectomies, two recessions, multiple bankruptcies, marriage to a philandering Sergeant Major, divorce in the 70's, six kids, one cesarean, a few abortions from the Quietly Famous Abortionist of Spring Lake, NC or an affair with Larry King in the 60's. Renay was preceded in death by her ex-boyfriend, Larry King. Renay was also sadly preceded in death by her beloved daughter, Cathy Sue Corren Lester Trammel Webster, of Kill Devil Hills, NC, who herself was preceded in death by two marriages, a fudge shop and one eyeball lost in a near-fatal Pepsi bottle incident that will absolutely be explored in future obituaries. Losing her 1-eyed badass b**** of a daughter in 2007 devastated Renay, but it also made her quite homeless, since Cathy pretty much picked up the tab. A talented and gregarious grifter, Renay M. Corren eked out her final years of luxury (she literally retired at 62) under the care, compassion, checking accounts and, evidently, unlimited patience of her favorite son and daughter-in-law, Michael and Lourdes Corren, of world-famous cow sanctuary El Paso, TX. Renay is also survived by her son Jeffrey Corren and his endlessly tolerant wife Shirley, of Powell's Point, NC; Scott Corren, and what's left of his colon, of Hampton, VA; Marc and Laura Corren, the loveliest dirt farmers of Vernon, TX (seriously, where is that); and her favorite son, the gay one who writes catty obituaries in his spare time, Andy Corren, of - obviously - New York City. Plus two beloved granddogs, Mia and Hudson. Renay was particularly close to and grateful for the lavish attentions of her grandaughter Perla and her great-grandchildren Elijah and Leroy, as well as her constant cruise companions Sam Trammell of Greenville, NC, and Adam Corren of El Paso, TX. Renay took tremendous pride in making 1 gay son and 2 gay grandchildren, Sam Trammell and Adam Corren.

 

There will be a very disrespectful and totally non-denominational memorial on May 10, 2022, most likely at a bowling alley in Fayetteville, NC. The family requests absolutely zero privacy or propriety, none what so ever, and in fact encourages you to spend some government money today on a 1-armed bandit, at the blackjack table or on a cheap cruise to find our inheritance. She spent it all, folks. She left me nothing but these lousy memories. Which I, and my family of 5 brothers and my sister-in-laws, nephews, friends, nieces, neighbors, ex-boyfriends, Larry King's children, who I guess I might be one of, the total strangers who all, to a person, loved and will cherish her. Forever. Please think of the brightly-frocked, frivolous, funny and smart Jewish redhead who is about to grift you, tell you a filthy joke, and for Larry King's sake: LAUGH. Bye, Mommy. We loved you to bits.

 

RIP RENAY MANDEL CORREN 10 MAY 1937 - 11 DEC 2021

 

Posted online on December 15, 2021

https://www.fayobserver.com/obituaries/m0028451

Published in The Fayetteville Observer, Funerals Today

Tuesday, December 07, 2021

apr 13 1950 | ridge theatre grand opening!




     It is not too much to say that the new Ridge theatre, 16th and Arbutus, is the result of a half century of research and inventiveness by the world's foremost designers and architects in cinema art. 
     Situated in the Arbutus Village, a name coined by newspapermen when David and Walter Macfarlane set out to provide a "civic centre" for the new Arbutus Ridge home development, the Ridge has 842 comfortable seats, beautiful design and decoration, a "crying room" for mothers with difficult babies, and a projection room with every conceivable device for for showing good pictures well.

PARKING AREAS

     People who attend will appreciate the extensive arrangements made for parking, and shoppers in the group of modern stores of the Village will make good use of these facilities. Three paved lots, each a block long, are provided, and wide sidewalks, bright lights and attractive stores make this area an attractive adjunct to the Arbutus district of all new homes. 
     Hundreds of imported plants beautify the shopping area and the theatre foyer. The Ridge theatre itself, in the opinion of the owners, has no counterpart in any of Canada's suburban areas.

GIGANTIC MURAL

     Hundreds of feed of mirror, exotic lighted plant arbors, most spacious deep foam-rubber seats and luxurious carpets, a gigantic mural of an arbutus tree, are included.
     Pastel soft leather powder room with mirrors and lunges . . . the new babies' and children's crying room on the colorful mezzanine floor. All the foyer and concourse and theatre interior scintillates with orchid white indirect lighting, and cunningly hidden spots.
     The smooth white stairway in chrome and bleached mahogany set off with entire wall towering sparkling mirror.
     In the brilliantly designed auditorium the very best in newest equipment is installed. The Riddge has had the new Gaumont-Kalee "President" projection equipment installed. These projectors, two of them, are a masterpiece of theatre development. The sensationally new "activated nylon" screen is the only one of its kind in Canada, and is only now being installed in some of the leading showhouses in America. 
     Many hours were spent by the engineers perfecting the sound equipment, and the acoustics are perfect. 
     A handsomely appointed candy bar is located on the foyer, done in mirror, leather, chrome, and gold tinted cedar and mahogany woods.



Feature published in the Vancouver Sun Wednesday, April 12, 1950
Grand opening Thursday, April 13, 1950

Monday, December 06, 2021

photo | kevin clark | medicine hat


 

thomas merton | the hope of results, the fallacy of success


Do not depend on the hope of results. You may have to face the fact that your work will be apparently worthless and even achieve no result at all, if not perhaps results opposite to what you expect. As you get used to this idea, you start more and more to concentrate not on the results, but on the value, the rightness, the truth of the work itself. You gradually struggle less and less for an idea and more and more for specific people. In the end, it is the reality of personal relationship that saves everything.

The logic of worldly success rests on a fallacy: the strange error that our perfection depends on the thoughts and opinions and applause of other men! A weird life it is, indeed, to be living always in somebody else's imagination, as if that were the only place in which one could at last become real!



pictured: Thomas Merton's hermitage

imperative | scott cairns



The thing to remember is how 
Tentative all of this really is. 
You could wake up dead. 

Or the woman you love 
Could decide you’re ugly. 
Maybe she’ll finally give up 
Trying to ignore the way 
You floss your teeth as you 
Watch television. 
All I’m saying Is that there are no sure things here. 
I mean, you’ll probably wake up alive, 
And she’ll probably keep putting off 
Any actual decision about your looks. 

Could be she’ll be glad your teeth are so clean. 
The morning could be full of all the love and kindness you need. 
Just don’t go thinking you deserve any of it.

Friday, December 03, 2021

tom waits | don't plant your bad days


"Don't plant your bad days. They grow into weeks. The weeks grow into months. Before you know it, you got yourself a bad year. Take it from me - choke those little bad days. Choke 'em down to nothing." 

Tom Waits