Approaching another year

In just over a week from now, I will be another year older.

The past year has been a very big one in my life. Having come close to death a few times, I am embracing life more and more. I have been in the hospital more it seems than I have been out and about. And then it hit me.

You were really stressed out.

So, after my doctor almost sent me to the hospital in an ambulance, and they changed by diet, I missed everything leading up to Christmas. I emerged from the hospital a bit wiser and more determined, I thought. Until an issue I had only discussed with a few people was suddenly resolved in a trip to Walgreens, I thought I was sentenced to another few years of continuing some heavy lifting duties.

Then my gallbladder remembered that it stopped working back in 2002, and that it didn't want to stay with me anymore. That meant another surgery.

But, in the midst of all of that, I was able to hear God. When my pastor came to me and told me to eliminate certain things from my diet, I obeyed immediately and know that if I hadn't, perhaps I wouldn't be writing this now, but I know I would not be where I am physically, emotionally, or spiritually.

All of this and more is on my mind as I approach the weekend before my birthday. And I am so grateful that I am able to think on these things.

Let's try it again...

So, how embarrasing is it that I haven't posted here in almost two years.

Does that mean nothing interesting has happened? No, it's just that my stations in life changed rapidly after that last post so I plan to be very careful what I say.

If you don't know me, I take personal responsibility very seriously. So, if you know me, you will see an unusual amount of restraint in my posts.

Adulthood, you gotta love it.

Michigan Victory Sweeter in South Bend

Wow. I'm back.
Something interesting happened today. I was on my way to South Bend (home of Notre Dame) and Hoosiers and Michiganders were headed to The Big House to watch Michigan play Notre Dame.

So, I drove through Ann Arbor thinking, I really hope we win.

Then, I arrived in South Bend, and there are all of these crazy marqees outside restaurants: Go Irish, Beat Michigan.

Ugh.

It's enough to turn your stomach.

Now, ANYONE who knows me, I mean REALLY knows me, knows that if my blood could be blue, it would be.

I am a die-hard Wolverine.

So, even now, laying on my hotel bed in South Bend, I have two Michigan shirts for the drive home.

When I heard the half-time score 20-17 Irish, I got nervous. Then I heard 31-20, but that wasn't correct. It was actually 20-31--someone forgot to put the numbers in the proper order, home team last.

I was releaved and vindicated when my guys stuck out a 34-38 victory.

How sweet victory is. Even better when you can drive through the losers' city sporting your victorious colors.

After all, we ARE the victors!

Why 'post-racialism' is a myth

Spike Lee has been very adamant that just because we are living in a era where there is the first Black president does not mean that we are in a post-racial society.

Meaning that just because a Black man sits in the highest seat in the land doesn't mean that people of color have arrived.

He is right. I am anticipating Soledad O'Brien's documentary follow-up tonight, but in the wake of that, Henry Louis Gates gets arrested in his own home.

That shows how far we are from post-racial. There is nothing post-racial about debating whether Obama is a black president or a president who happens to be black. Nothing post-racial about the subtle increase of white supremacy. Nothing post-racial about increased unemployment among blacks and a pay ceiling that just won't move.

There is nothing post-racial about having to search out a public school academy or a private school in order to assure that your child has every opportunity they need to succeed.

Have race relations come a long way? Yes, definitely. Have we achieved post-racialism. Definitely not.

Michael Jackson

I didn't realize until Michael Jackson died that I had chosen to name my second son such a popular name....

When I was growing up, there was nothing better than "A-B-C", or "Got to be there" or "Rockin' Robin". I know I wasn't alone, but I was determined to marry Michael. No one else deserved him. (later, I determined Randy was acceptable also, just in case I couldn't get to Michael)

A dancer at heart, and one driven by music, harmony, and lyrics, I was completely taken by Michael from his Motown beginnings all the way to Epic and "Off the Wall". I tried his moves, I knew his lyrics. When I didn't comprehend the "Billie Jean" video (and still don't understand it, although completely understand its popularity), I recreated a more lyric-based one in my bedroom while hearing my grandmother's pleas to turn the music down.

I was in college when the Jacksons resurfaced, and, as I recall, there were only two or three good songs on that album--yes, ALBUM. But I bought it anyway. I think there was some controversy about the cover (but in those days, there was always a cover controversy) and I don't know if I got the original or the revised one.

I knew about his groundbreaking advent into MTV and I saw the primetime debut of his videos. But I didn't know until yesterday that he had patents for certain moves and technologies used in his videos. There was a lot I didn't know about the man whose birthday was just 2 days after mine.

It is sad that he is now gone, but, as someone interviewed on a station during the past two days reasoned--it was hard to imagine an 'old' Michael Jackson.

Now we won't have to.

The hole in the wall

OK. So, somewhere I hit a brick wall. It loomed before me in late March and just recently I broke a hole through the wall.

So many things have happened in the world and I wanted to write about all of them. I wanted to tell Obama not to bow. To tell people who live to criticize people to go somewhere and do something productive with their lives. To mention how courageous I thought Farrah Fawcett was to have her private struggle made so public. To moan about having to raise children in a society where nothing is sacred. The perils of raising boys to be men. Asking questions about how stupid people seem to succeed in this world.

I have been able to do none of that.

I think I am back, though.

Trying to get it together

If anyone out there is reading this, no, I haven't left. My computer, under the devious possessions of some mysterious virus, was completely uncooperative. Perhaps it was boycotting my exit from Facebook. Who knows or cares. All I know is that is has put me seriously behind.

I am trying to gather my thoughts to blog again. I will be back, soon.

What would you do?

Please respond if you read this.

• You are in desparate financial straits. In your P.O. Box you find a $2,800 check. It isn't addressed to you and you have no idea how it got there. Do you toss it? Return it? Risk going to jail but cash it?
• You see keys left in the door of a retail business afterhours. Do you ignore it because it isn't your business? Take the keys to return them tomorrow--hopefully? Call the police or leave the keys with a neighboring business?
• On the floor of a store you find a $50 bill. Turn it in or keep it?

Coming Out

What?

Whenever we hear that term, we usually think of someone breaking the news that they have an interest in members of the same sex. It is a dreaded concept.

That isn't what it means to me right now.

I feel like I am coming out...of a cave. Don't misunderstand what I am saying. Not darkness like in a depression or fog like confusion. A cave, like where you hear echoes and you aren't quite sure where the origin is, but once you hit the main vein, you can find your way out.

I love the life I live, but I don't always love the way I live it. I realize that I am my harshest critic and that to my detriment more times than not. So, being that critical has driven me away from some of my faith's most basic tenets: loving your neighbor as yourself, doing unto others as you would they do unto you, having no god before God.

As I have worked on my LinkedIn, University of Michigan Alumni and Facebook networks and have started my blog, I am rediscovering life. Finding people who have been part of my life means a lot, and, as I look at their pages, I realize that the 'worlds' of my life, school, church, former church, family, profession are not so disparate. I am not separate people. I am not living separate lives.

I am coming out of a personal privacy and into the greater society once again.

Some of my contacts I will maintain and others will have to cease.

What a stretch!

Way to wind down

I love the television series ER. I may have missed an episode here or there, but for the most part I watch it every week.

After 15 years, the series is winding down, and, I don't know about other people, I have a major pet peeve with television shows just dropping off at the end. They create a following, get the viewers interested in the characters then just leave us hanging. Not fair at all.

There were several storylines that I felt needed to be concluded. One was with Dr. Benton (Eric La Salle), the other was with Nurse Hathaway (Julianna Margulies) and Dr. Ross (George Clooney). When they appeared on the screen, my hand went to my heart automatically. I got the warm, fuzzy feeling one gets when you need comfort food (mashed potatoes and gravy, pot roast, turkey and dressing, hot chocolate with marshmallows...). It was great to see them there, and the writing was good. Some lines I could anticipate, such as when Benton asked Carter about his wife, and Carter pulls out a picture ("You married a sistah?"), but the overall story line was well done and brought the viewer up to date in the lives of the previously departed doctors without creating a storybook moment.

I will be sad to see ER leave the scene, it has been a big part of my life. But, fans are fickle, and I already have a new love...Grey's Anatomy.

Discovering Networking. Rediscovering Writing.

How I ever got the designation of a technophile, I will never know.

Alright, so I am severely behind the times in discovering and utilizing networking sites such as Facebook. Truth be told, the Internet intimidates me because there are insidious people out there stalking and acting crazy.

But there are also people out there that I haven't seen in 5, 10, 25 years. Or some I haven't seen since yesterday that I want to keep up to date.

I am entering a new territory because for years I have been working on projects--in a corner. Everyone who really knows me, knows me as a writer. And, if I may be so bold, a pretty good one. But one that needs to own her art. Not craft--I am not a witch. What I do is art. Art from the heart.

That is one reason I began this blog.

So, all of those who remember me as an aspiring writer, keep looking because here I come.

My 'bestest' friend is back!

You will NOT believe this, because if I wasn't sitting at the computer right now, I wouldn't believe it myself.

I decided to get back on facebook to start expanding my network and re-introducing my name to society. So, I am searching for friends, and my bestest, bestest pal (I mentioned her in an earlier blog about friends) Angelia pops up! A new picture, but the same face! I guess in today's parlance, she would really be my BFF!

Oh, Lord, help me!

I wish I could really, really cry right now. Suffice to say, we went to school together everyday, then talked on the phone every night. We fought every other day, erased names and numbers out of the book...then called each other and continued talking.

We went to college together and haven't seen each other in more than 13 years. But, now, another puzzle piece is back in my life.

I have two more people to find: Eugene and Stephanie.

Give Dora a break

One thing that has always bugged me is how cartoon 'children' never seem to grow up. The Peanuts gang is older than I am and are still as young as my children. Cailloo--oh, how annoying he is--maintains his preschool personna. Baby Smurf is still a baby and there was even a move to create baby Looney Tunes characters (why?). Huey, Dewey and Louie are still the precocious nephews of Donald Duck.

The only ones who seemed to have escaped until now were Pebbles and Bam Bam--although, on a more serious tip, their parents have been wearing the same clothes ad nauseum.

So, what is the deal with Dora?

There is just a silhouette...no real sketches...and people are decrying her. Please, give it a rest. Dora will be ten this fall, almost eleven. Is she destined to swing from the trees in her shorts forever? Her mother even had twins (to my dismay? surprise?) so why can't she grow up?

This is part and parcel the problem that plagues child stars. They can't seem to shake the thing that made them a household name. Every now and then, if their parents are cooperative and the child is centered, one will escape and grow up. Like Rudy, Tootie, or Fresh Prince, or Raven. Still many more 'die' into that childlike personna.

But don't let your fifteen year old sit around in a diaper and bang a bat on the ground screaming, "bam! bam! bam! bam!"

Now, if Dora comes out with cleavage, splits, and meets boys behind buildings, then, then, we can stone her character. Until then, go march for something else, something more useful.

March is literacy month...go read a book.

Leave Rush Limbaugh alone

OK, so the title of this entry may be controversial.

I think President Obama and the Democrats should just leave Rush Limbaugh alone. Period. Ignore him and his statements.

Do you remember the child at school who was at first mildly disruptive? Then perhaps they hit someone or called them a name. Pretty soon everyone in the class would begin talking about them or running away in fear. They became a household name.

Look at reality shows. Take Omorosa, for example. At first, she was just another annoyance, then as her name began to resonate, she became a force, now well known in most circles and forever etched as the model evil reality show contestant.

There have been many over the years who brought nothing redeemable to the table, but suddenly became famous for their ability to take others off task and off message.

This is how I view the Limbaugh effect. Don't acknowledge him. Leave him out of press briefings, speeches, morning reports, jab fests. Ignore him.

By raising his name, it is raising his star. People may actually think he has something redeeming.

Twenty-Eight Days

Isn't that the same amount of time people go to rehab?

There is an argument out there that African American history is irrelevant. I say that the only way it is irrelevant is if the accomplishments of African Americans are seamlessly interwoven into the fiber of American history in general. The history of these disparate groups are the history of this country in which we live.

Nevertheless, how can we posit that African American history isn't needed as a stand alone history if we do not rehearse it with our children and teach them the things they need to know. It has to be more than 28 days, more than a month, a week, MLK day. It has to be lived.

It is like the controversy early during last year's presidential race. Would black women vote for Hillary Clinton because she is a woman or Barack Obama because he is black? For those who revel in statistics that may be a question, but for me it wasn't. The decision wasn't between one side of me or another--it was about competence and the ability to succeed.

It is the same with American History. Consider it without the stoplight, the cotton gin, peanut butter, heart surgery, the roller coaster (as I found through my son's project last week). There is no full American History without these things and all were contributions by blacks.

Now that the official month has ended, let us live in history. A united history. An American history.

When pulpits become stages

I saw something interesting today. Men who were gruff and dominant moments before turned to high-pitched voices when a local recording artist walked into a funeral. They melted just like women swooned over the Beatles and Michael Jackson.

Well, not quite that badly, but comparable based on the circumstances.

But that wasn't what I learned from today's funeral. I learned that just because someone doesn't come across as 'having it all' doesn't mean they don't have anything. The gentleman that was buried today had always seemed very unassuming to me, but he was widely known in other circles.

But the highlight of the service wasn't the recording star, it was a young woman, self-professed not to be a songstress, whose sincerity and grace filled the sanctuary and everyone who was there. The artist received a standing ovation because of who he was, but this young woman received an ovation because of whose she is.

I am not used to the concept of pulpits as stages yet. The notion that anyone with notoriety can stand in God's holy place in the place of his preachers and proclaim something, then return to their own proclamations outside the pulpit.

But I am comfortable with the King of the universe receiving His proper accolades when one of his own lifts up their voice to Him, for Him and His glory alone.

Here we go again

A few weeks ago I wrote about the end of a press briefing and the unfortunate statement that was made at the end.

Last week, it was a chimp.

In fairness, this came on the heels of a chimp attack, but really, now. Are we to be so naive and so blind that we can't see a cartoon gone bad?

Could it have been worse? Yes. But more importantly, I think it could have been handled differently.

Then there is an offense when the Attorney General calls the US a country of cowards.

I feel about those types of images and words the way I feel about cursing.

There have got to be more creative ways of expressing one self. Eddie Murphy was infinitely more funny in Dr. Doolittle and Daddy Day Care than Coming to America or Beverly Hills Cop. He said no more than 3 curse words.

Learn what hurts your neighbor and avoid that. This principle is the easiest.

Single Ladies

This is especially for N'Jeri:

Just what does my six year old son know about single ladies?

(Wink)

Five Minutes to More of the Same

I had a notion of which two candidates would emerge from Detroit's special election last night.

I am not a partisan, I tend to vote on issues and not along party lines. I may not vote the popular way, but I vote my conscience.

And, after a bit of a hiatus, I do vote. I think of it as rendering to Caesar....

Also, I am fiercely combative against people who have so much to say but make no efforts to change the way things are.

That is kind of the way I feel about my fellow Detroiters right now. Not just that once again the vote has been based on name recognition (and I like the qualities the person stands for, don't fault me) and a detrimental loyalty. Last November 4th, I walked into St. Scholastica's gym and into lines and lines of people waiting to cast their votes. They had children, grandchildren, tried to sneak in cameras...but they were there. There to cast a vote that mattered. There to speak up for change and hope. I think I was number 430-something when I cast my ballot at about 5p.

Today, I was in the gym no longer than five minutes at almost 2p. I walked in, was validated, filled out my ballot, entered it, and left.

I was number 81.

So, while people ran home to find out what the President would say in his speech, Detroit marched on without its people.

If we don't elect the right people on a local level, what makes us think we will benefit from things that happen on a higher level?

Don't wear Obama out

He is handsome--no doubt. Charismatic--yes! Multi-cultural--definitely.

Don't get me wrong. I have several Obama shirts: one from the students for Obama with the 'M' in the U of M font, another sleek black one with gold letters, one from the debate with neither candidate's name on it, a pink one with headlines on it, and one directly from the inaguration store.

But we are going to wear President Obama out before he can warm the Oval Office.

His name is everywhere: hats, pencils, new Successories posters, the dollar store, the more-than-a-dollar store, college campuses, school offices, license plates, window decals.

My mom says she hasn't seen anything like this since Kennedy. I have been trying to remember where I have been for the last so many decades. What was I doing when Gore lost to Bush? Who did Clinton run against for his second term? Other than broccoli, "a thousand points of light", and a "kinder, gentler nation" (that went to war, incidently), what did I take away from Bush I?

I remember more about Reagan: his jelly beans, the 'well' filler, the fact that some of my friends had to enlist in the miliary and others had to enter college early to keep their financial aid, and his reluctance to sign the MLK day into law.

I remember watching Nixon resign through mosquito bite swollen eyes and being very happy.

But I don't remember shirts, decals, etc. for any of them. Maybe the Mondale/Ferraro bumperstickers....

We are going to make President Obama an icon whether or not he is willing. And, like Michael Jordan, he is going to be everywhere, years after his term(s) end.

But, in this continual praise now, don't forget the things he has promised to do, don't forget that you may not have agreed with him on everything. Don't let his enigmatic rise and buoyant personality mask the fact that we have employed him to do a job and his first review is coming up in less than 70 days.

Love him, hate him, disagree with him, fear what his presence in that position will do to the presidency (as Cleaver would have said, "what will become of the Presidency now?"), admire him, but, above all, if you pray at all, pray for him. Be encouraging. Expect more.

And don't just wear the gear because it is fashionable right now.

Back in college, there was a Free South Africa Coordinating Committee that sold bracelets with the names of political prisoners like Walter Sisulu, Steven Biko, Archbishop Desmond Tutu, and, of course, ANC leader Nelson Mandela. The point of purchasing the bracelets was to wear them in solidarity, and, if you had the name of a current prisoner, to wear them until they were released. I wasn't completely aware of the whole apartheid issue, but I knew of Mandela, so I purchased a bracelet with his name on it. I was faithful--I wore it daily--for a while. Eventually, especially after I left campus, I put it in a drawer. No more than three years later, Mandela was freed. I hadn't held on to the belief that what I was standing for was right. In fact, I didn't take the time to research further what the real situation was.

So, standing in Tiger Stadium, seeing Mandela in person, I was a bit ashamed because I tried to stand for something right but faltered in my ignorance.

Let's not make the same mistake when dealing with our new President and his image.