We're Chumped...but Not Out

If the past few months (weeks, days, hours) have anything to teach us, we can expect that the guy in the White House will do something outrageous and offensive before the end of the month. My guess is that it will either happen by Saturday, Aug. 26 (Women's Equality Day), but definitely no later than Monday, Aug. 28 (which is the March on Washington commemoration). It is his nature to be offensive, especially if we expect him to be otherwise.

Quick pause: I began writing this earlier in the day, BEFORE the pardon (mentioned in the next paragraph) was issued. This guy trolls us even in the midst of a natural disaster bearing down in the form of a Category 4 Hurricane! SMH

So it's way past time for us to collectively adjust our expectations so that we can stop acting alarmed when he baits an overreaction by his ridiculous behavior. Of course he looked up at the eclipse without those special glasses. Of course he went forward with an ill-timed rally in Arizona and flirted with the possibility that he will pardon the racist sheriff. Of course he defended the white nationalists, neo-Nazis, and the Confederacy. Of course he is feuding with Congress. Of course he has bankrupted the Secret Service. Of course he thinks it will be perfectly fine to shut down the government over a stupid wall.

And this was all the nonsense of just this week!!!

It will never stop. Because some of our fellow Americans thought he would be their man in Washington who would drain the swamp, or just stick it to the man (who was Obama, I think), there is no stopping this guy from making a giant ass of himself every chance he gets. So all of our FB haranguing about all of the damage he has done to our country, all of the defriending and blocking of your high school classmates, all of the counter-trolling, etc...I mean, keep doing it if it makes you happy. However, just know that it will make not an iota of difference.

His supporters love him and will continue to love him. They will send their teenage daughters out into the world to defend him like these young ladies here:

Or they will arm their sons and nephews with tiki torches and pretend that their outrage is really about old forgotten statues that no one cared about in communities where they don't live (and most of them don't even know why they're still standing):

Or they will send out their religious hacks to condemn your faith/patriotism/humanity:

Or they will huddle up in their posh owner's box to hatch a plan to discredit a modern-day John the Baptist for taking a knee during the anthem (you know, since football is like a religion for some of you, I thought I would analogize):

I could keep going, but I don't wish to post a picture of him on my blog, especially not the most recent one from the rally this week that prominently featured a legitimately unhinged black supporter. In a classic product placement move worthy of a Clio, "Mike" was intended to dispel the notion the Trumpets are racist/sexist/stupid. Or whatever.

I'm just putting it all out here to illustrate the point that he is here to stay. Remember when he said that he could shoot someone in Times Square and not lose any support? Well...??? Sure, he hasn't done that yet, but give him time.

Nothing will rid us of this troublesome honey badger. He don't care and we are definitely stuck with him until January 21, 2021. Now that is not a statement of resignation, but it is the truth because there won't be an impeachment. Believe me. There is no infrastructure in place to make that happen. This Russian probe is totally going to be the Iran-Contra hearings all over again. The fall guy might be someone expendable, like Don Jr., but that's why his Dad floated out the prospect of pardons. His congressional opposition consists of disorganized Democrats and Paul Ryan supporters. Mitch McConnell is his bitch. He's surrounded himself with military generals. He's been making friends with every authoritarian on the planet. And he has the nuclear codes.

I am not arguing that we give up, but I am just suggesting that we face the facts. Our energy is better spent counting down the 1,245 days until he boards that helicopter for the last time on our dime. Which means we do EVERYTHING to remind him of our disdain and odium. We use the same grassroots organizing tactics that have resulted in every other major social advancement in our country. We organize. We march. We rally. We keep making cool protest signs. We light candles for the Notorious RBG. We educate ourselves and our children. We protect our prophets (like Kaepernick); we mourn our martyrs (like Heather Heyer).  We raise our voices. We VOTE in 2018, and again in 2020, and every subsequent election. We find the folks who erected this chicken on the ellipse and mass produce miniature inflatable duplicates to pass around at his rallies like beach balls. We RESIST!

The Last of the Rebel Yells

This piece evolved from an initial intent to post an article on the Busy Black Woman FB page featuring the faces of the "Unite the Right" protestors from Charlottesville. When the article and my commentary failed to post on my FB page (very unusual), I began writing the piece below in response, also in reflection from having attended my family reunion in Fredericksburg, VA. Here is part of what I wrote:

Unfortunately, the article I tried to post yesterday with the photo of the Unite the Right protestors did not post, nor did my message. But today, after all of the chaos, terror, destruction, and the unfortunate deaths, I have another opportunity to express my utter despair at what happened in Charlottesville yesterday.

As all of that nonsense was going on, I was in Fredericksburg for my family reunion. As a child, we would travel to "the country", at least once a year the second weekend in August to reunite those family members who had remained in Fredericksburg with those who had migrated to DC and Philadelphia. I hadn't been to one of these events since my grandmother passed away more than 20 years ago, for a variety of reasons I may share later. On the drive down I-95, we passed an enormous confederate flag that has been erected just past Quantico and right before Warrenton, VA.

So, just over an hour's drive away from the Nation's Capitol, the confederacy has resurrected itself on the side of a major interstate. I saw it the last time I drove down to Fredericksburg for my Aunt's funeral last fall; this time I asked my niece to take a photo so that we could post it online. She didn't get the picture, and now that I have had a chance to digest what occurred yesterday, I believe it was the hand of God maneuvering things so that we would not continue to spread the hate that flag represents. Of course, my reason for wanting to post a picture was to highlight that very sentiment, but it doesn't need to be broadcast by me.

I don't know all of the details of what happened yesterday in Charlottesville because we were absorbed in our bubble of reacquainting ourselves with distant relatives. But I was reminded of the very powerful reason why my grandmother and her favorite cousin left the "county" for DC and Philly so many decades ago--they wanted a better life for their children. They understood the limitations of opportunity for black Southerners, so they joined that Great Migration as young women and later established branches of our family tree in northern communities like so many of their peers. I can only imagine that some incident or mindset, similar to what was on display in Charlottesville yesterday, is what spurred them to leave.

I posted it here because in the days since the protests, I have been reflecting a LOT about what this all means today in 2017. Not that I had no expectations that the backlash to the Obama era had begun and ended with the last election (because, sadly this is only the beginning of the counter-revolution), but it builds on a theme that I felt compelled to express a few weeks back on July 4th. I framed that piece about being woke enough to cautiously appreciate that holiday, but now I want to stake out an even bolder position--that our celebrations of this country serve to appreciate our evolution, and then to demand that we continue to strive towards becoming a more perfect union.

Because these grand American ideals are for everyone.

If your ancestors died to preserve ideals that did not expand rights or that were meant to exclude people, then that is a reason to mourn, not celebrate. Your pride is rooted in something that is the very antithesis of liberty and the pursuit of happiness, the ideals of our Founders--not the Confederate generals whose cause you defend. When you choose to stand for racial segregation, gender inequality, religious intolerance, and any other form of systematic oppression, it betrays them and every person who has ever shed blood for this country.

And of course, as I was writing this piece, the Trumpet sounded off again...and so I'm convinced that whenever I think I've missed the window to respond to his nonsense, I just need to give him six hours to say or do something else outrageous.

Too much has happened to unpack everything in one piece. So here are some themes I hope to address as I continue to examine my counter position to MAGA--America is for all of us:

1. We all hear your dog whistle, Mr. President, so no need trying to conceal it by deliberately changing the subject and getting angry. No more fake nuclear crises or hollow threats to fire members of your Cabinet.
2. Ironic that no one thought to be this overt during the tenure of the first black President. The worst you could muster up against Obama were racist cartoons, but this angry white mob thing is really quite a step forward. Feel free to march through the hood on your way back to the suburbs.
3. My Grandma Viola and her Cousin Ruth, and my other Grandmother Amanda and the many other thousands of black folks who migrated out of the South clearly understood why you march to preserve your old confederate monuments. And they aren't spinning in their graves over any of this because Barack Obama was the real shock...this backlash was to be expected.
4. There is no slippery slope when it comes to venerating Founding Fathers and Confederate generals. While many people have issues with our slave-owning Framers, most of us can see the difference between honoring the first President of the United States and honoring the President of the Confederacy. They are not equals.
5. This title of this piece comes from the name of a roller coaster at King's Dominion, an amusement park located in Virginia, north of Richmond. For years, I never knew to associate the name of the coaster with anything connected to the confederacy, but I had a doh moment a few years ago when I was teaching. That's how embedded certain colloquialisms are...yet, we need to be mindful as we evolve as a society. If these truly are harmless symbols, then moving them should not evoke such emotion.
6. Finally, thank you for leaving your bed sheets at home so that the world could really see your faces. Like many people, I was expecting to see more rowdies from the MAGA crowd because they are easier to ridicule. But color me shocked to see the IT guy at work, the guy who sells life insurance, the guy who manages the electronics store, and the kid's soccer coach. All clad in your Ralph Lauren polo shirts (he's a Jew, btw). 

Screaming at the Top of My Lungs

I promised myself that I would not use my BBW blog to air my dirty laundry, and for the most part I have kept that promise. That's why I keep this blog, and why I am grateful that I decided not to continue writing this post over there. Because I am feeling kinda crappy right now.

WHEN AM I EVER GOING TO BE HEARD?

In an argument. By my toddler. By my family when I have a legitimate point of contention. By my friends? By anybody?

Do you know how frustrating it is to feel like NO ONE gives half a crap about you unless you are fucking up? How it feels to think that nothing you do ever matters because to some folks it is just your job? That you aren't even remotely special?

I feel like that right now. Right now, just as I want to eat my feelings (which was something I never did before this year). Right now as I am really thinking about running the fuck away and not telling anyone where I'm headed. Right now when I want to reach out, but don't think anyone has the time to understand why I am just feeling hopeless and useless and perennially frustrated by life.

When is it my turn to be first? Why can't I make demands and someone feel obligated to meet them just because? Why am I being high maintenance when I want something done a certain way? Why can't I have expectations? Why don't I ever feel appreciated? Can I get some flowers that someone actually took the time to look at to make sure that they weren't dying (instead of buying the cheap ones because they were cheap)? Can I not be given the lecture that I ought to be grateful for being an afterthought instead of not being thought of at all (which is the definition of afterthought, n'est pas)? Can someone call me and reach out to check in on me from time to time, instead of reaching out to ask for a favor? Why can't I be needy? Why does my loneliness feel more like normal the older I get?

Why so many questions, you might ask because from your perspective, I should be happy. And I get the green grass theory, which is true when you realize the reason why their grass is greener--someone waters and cares about that other lawn. If I am not watering my grass, it should be brought to my attention so that I can do a better job. I don't have a problem being told that I am doing something wrong. I have a problem with always being told that I am doing something wrong in response to telling someone else to modify their behavior.

I have a few other issues, but I will get to my laundry instead.

Get In Formation

This is just a quick public service announcement because I want all HBCU alumni to understand something crucial for future reference: WE ARE NOT IN COMPETITION WITH EACH OTHER FOR DONORS.

I repeat: WE ARE NOT IN COMPETITION WITH EACH OTHER FOR DONORS.

That isn't our cross to bear. So please, before you waste time whining blogging about a high-profile donation to the so-called elite HBCUs, take a step back and do a little research. Recognize that every single one of these institutions needs support, and if every single alumni gave something, anything to his/her own HBCU, it wouldn't matter what the celebrities do.

Because what they do with their money is their damn business. Some of these folk will give that big one-time donation and never give another dime. Or they might give consistently for the rest of their natural lives. Or whatever, but again, it is their money and not ours. Our money is what we earn and how we choose to designate it, so that matters more to our institutions--whether alumni bother to donate.

So again, I repeat (just in case you forgot): WE ARE NOT IN COMPETITION WITH EACH OTHER FOR DONORS.

And because I really, really care that you get this, I just gave to Talladega College, as I said I would when I wrote this. Because I never want another HBCU to go hat in hand to participate in something that they would rather not, but feel compelled to do so because they need the money.

And that is the same reason why I gave to Bethune-Cookman University today, because for the life of me, I just cannot even form the words to express why the invitation to Secretary of Education Betsy DeVos to be their commencement speaker is just...like seriously, were Omarosa or Ben Carson that busy? (And I'm not signing any petition because I made my feelings clear while making my contribution. Money talks, my friends.)

And to briefly address this gift from Beyonce to Spelman College and Howard University, please save your ire for real nonsense, like the aforementioned invitation to Betsy DeVos from Bethune-Cookman or the participation of Talladega's band at the Abomination in January. Hell, let's debate whether it is too soon for Barack Obama to collect $400,000 for speaking engagements. But let's not spend another minute complaining about how Beyonce should have spent her money; otherwise, we will ensure that the next big gift won't go to any of our schools. No one wants to court controversy for making a GIFT. So just stop.

Finally: WE ARE NOT IN COMPETITION WITH EACH OTHER FOR DONORS.

Better Intentions

I have been at this precise place so many times--regret that I didn't live up to the expectations I set for myself. Disappointment that I am always seemingly starting over from the same place, beginning again at the beginning.

This year is already a wash.

I had plans. I had intentions. I had goals. Yet here I am, with nothing to show for any of those lofty hopes and dreams. I am standing in the same sad spot and always for the same reason: My inability to put my needs above those of the members of my family.

Which family member? It never really matters. With the addition of a child, it would seem that I have an acceptable reason for never accomplishing much of anything, except that isn't the case. My daughter inspires my need to actually push myself to be more than just another frustrated, reluctant housewife turned obscure, undiscovered blogger. And as she has grown from sweet baby to this unruly, insane Toddlersaurus, I should have endless material from her daily antics. According to my blog journal (the notebook I carry to jot down blogging ideas) I could perpetually write about busy black motherhood and possibly *finally* garner a following.

Yes, I have a blog journal. It was part of the elaborate plan that has yet to materialize thanks to that other unyielding demand that I am always trying to manage. That other familial obligation that I am trying desperately not to resent, because that would be selfish. And we all know that whenever I focus any attention to myself, for whatever reason...

Yet, this did not begin with the choice to focus on myself insomuch as it feels like it began with the intention to do so. My intention to devote more time to writing and live vlogging and starting a podcast and a few other projects...all on the back burner because at the beginning of the year, a new chapter began in my long-running family drama. Which has left me bitter and angry and depressed. And eating all the time. Or sleeping. Or intentionally missing certain social engagements. Or doing drastic shit like chopping off my hair and dyeing it different colors including platinum blonde. Or not sleeping.

(I actually plan to write about this situation in a more direct form, but now I need to vent without identifying or defaming anyone.)

So here I am. Angry. Bitter. Depressed. Hurt. And feeling all of the guilt that was intended for me to feel because somehow, I am the only person who has any responsibility...

For the record, in the interest of trying to move beyond the anger, bitterness, depression, hurt, and guilt I have been willing to continue to make the uncomfortable choices. To be the person in the line of fire. To be Atticus Finch and do those unpleasant jobs that no one else wants. And it hasn't meant anything. I am still standing in the same fucking spot.

So, I am going to write anyway to try to work through all of my feelings. I've decided that this situation is less about my better intentions than it is about adjusting my expectations. I will simply write to let go of things and maybe that will help.

Depression for Dummies

Depression is real. Depression is not just in my head.

NO, I CANNOT JUST GET OVER IT.

Happiness may be a choice. Depressed people try to choose happiness. But something makes that choice seem impossible in any number of circumstances. It would help tremendously if people understood that. I can be happy in a moment. I have moments of joy. But I can still suffer from depression in those moments.

One analogy I can think of is getting dressed during the winter. I can put on layers of clothing to keep warm, but if any skin gets exposed, I can still get cold. With depression, I can participate in a joyful celebration but if something goes wrong, it can ruin the experience for me. (And not necessarily the entire experience, just that specific aspect.) Most people would argue "Everything else went great, why can't you just get over it?" Because that is how depression works--I just can't get over it.

I just had yet another very futile "conversation" with the husband wherein his understanding of my issues boils down to his fundamental misunderstanding and, as far as I am concerned, his unwillingness to try.

I understand that it is hard to invest the emotional capital in someone who suffers with chronic depression. It is much easier to just walk away and leave them alone. I know because get left alone all the time. I am not suggesting that loving someone with depression is futile. It just means that you have to find a way to love that person to reassure them that no matter what, everything will be alright. I know that my family prefers to keep me at arm's length because it is easier for them. I just wish someone would make the effort to love me through my depression instead of in spite of it.

I didn't intend to spend this much effort on this topic, but I really needed to vent. I am going through another debilitating episode that has kept me pretty much confined to the house for the past month. I have gone out, but only as necessary. I have been trying...I bought some new lipstick and drastically cut my hair. I also admitted that I am going through something to others, which is rare because I never talk about my issues with others. I stopped short of telling people that I was depressed, but I was honest that I am dealing with a lot of drama that has left me anxious, frustrated and emotionally exhausted. People are a little more encouraging when you can offer specific terms to describe your feelings.

Just know that telling me to feel better is counter-productive. Telling me to pray is not offering a solution. Neither is expressing frustration that your efforts aren't helping (because my depression is not about you, it is about me). It would help if you stopped to listen, really listen without always trying to offer a fix. It is nice of you to pray for me, but how about inviting me to pray with you? If I cannot express exactly what is wrong, there might be any number of reasons why, but getting annoyed and giving up on me will only hasten a shutdown.

If any of this sounds familiar because you recognize yourself or someone else you know, I hope this gives you a primer on depression (not a clinical one, but a personal one). Maybe it will help you to become a better friend to someone who cannot always muster up the energy to be bothered with life beyond a self-contained bubble. I want to get through this, but I need help.

Going to Meet the Whizard

I have been saving this tirade for weeks, but given the President's little breakfast, little get-together yesterday to launch Black History Month...it's time. Not that I expected any sort of grand gesture that would make up for his offensive and patronizing outreach to "the blacks" (because I honestly think his March breakfast for Women's History Month will really good), but some of y'all have had this coming for a while. This list is not in any particular order and I will address each offender individually. If you got left off this time, no worries because we've got four years of tomfoolery ahead:

1. Steve Harvey: My daughter freaking loves the Family Feud, so do you know how hard it is to find a tolerable alternative program for her to watch in the evenings when we need to do anything other than have her run around in circles??? But it's all good because she will learn to love Jeopardy.

But let me go straight to the heart of the matter--you did not go to the Tower because President Obama asked you to. Admit that you went there to ensure your hosting job on the next Miss Universe Pageant. Admit that you went there because he offered you a deal to license your name to substitute his on those cheap suits he sells at Macy's. Admit that you went up there because you had a temporary loss of sanity, but please do not tell us that you were acting as some kind of hood consigliere to #45 for the African American community. We know better.

2. Dr. Ben Carson: The only chance you have at ever becoming President is to be the guy that gets sent to the bunker during the State of the Union. Which we all know, you will be that guy for every SOTU address, but the kicker is that the rest of us will be dead so no one will care.

3. Pastor Darrell Scott: Bruh, who are you? Like for real, who ARE YOU?

Because are we supposed to believe that a bunch of Chicago gang bangers called you to offer props to the new Prez, and then said that they would stop the violence out of respect for him? Are you sure that wasn't a prank call? Because the utter foolishness of that offer is so apparent that I'm wondering whether you just thought of it on the spot as some sort of fancy gold-plated Black History Month present that you, some random preacher from OHIO, could deliver.

4. Tina Campbell: Girl, I get it. You are a Christian, and you want to be loving and forgiving, and you realize that your sister has moved on, so you need to carve out your own identity. We already know that you are batsh!t cray cray, that you forgave that Mitch of a manager, and you've got other issues, so we are just going to lay your name on the altar and keep it moving.

5. Kanye West: I keep thinking that your visit was really some kind of weird six degrees of separation mission of reality show insanity because you are married to Kim, whose mother Kris was married to Bruce/Caitlyn, who wanted to dance with the Trumpet at his Inauguration. So Kris set this up, you are being held against your will, and that was really a Kanye-bot that was sent to the Tower. 

6. MLK the 3rd: I can't even begin to unpack this one. But again, I am hardly surprised that you allowed yourself to be used for a photo opp on the national holiday set aside to celebrate your father. Or that you allowed yourself to be used as a mouthpiece to explain away the nonsense of the Trumpet's twitter tirade against John Lewis. Or that you are still looking for ways to be taken seriously as a legitimate civil rights leader.

7. My Spelman Sister: So as the folks were being introduced around the table yesterday, I tuned out what was being said because it was clear that everyone in the room had some kind of active role in supporting the campaign. And honestly, I could care less about any of you, but someone told me that one of those eager faces belonged to one of my Spelman sisters. Thus, I have no words for you, just this picture:

8. Chrisette Michelle: I don't know you well enough to judge...but dammit, what were you thinking? Trust, you are not the first nor will you be the last black entertainer to be paraded in front of an audience for the benefit of some wealthy white folks who don't care a whit about you, your issues or what you thought you came to represent (ask Sammy Davis Jr., about that when you get to heaven). But dang girl, you don't even have the good sense not to act surprised that Spike Lee dissed you! And if you notice, Wynton Marsalis' corny ass piped down when he saw what happened to you. Lay low for a few years and come back when you get a clue.

9. Jim Brown, et. al: This was not that much of a surprise. In fact, because I believe your invitation, along with the invite to Ray Lewis, Floyd Mayweather, Don King and every other black athletic figure with issues were just fan calls, I can't be mad at you. I had written you off a long time ago for your toxic behavior towards women so as far as I am concerned, birds of a feather flock together.

10. Talladega College Marching Band: Don't think I forgot about that Inauguration parade performance. I didn't watch, and I suspect a lot of folks who normally would have been beaming with pride about the fact that their babies got to come to DC to march weren't watching either. Nah, scrap that, they watched and we are secretly proud because you are just a bunch of kids. Some of you can't vote, and among you that did vote, well, you have the right to exercise that choice however you choose. However, like the Rockettes whose jobs were at stake, members of a college marching band don't always get to take a stand.

So this criticism is not aimed at the band or the students, but at the alumni and the Administration of your institution. HBCU alumni talk big but don't have much to show for our cyber activism if our schools have to strike Faustian deals in order to raise money. And I don't know anything about your President, Dr. Billy Hawkins (no relation :), but I got issues with him going on FOX with his hat in hand knowing what would be the likely outcome of his appeal...which turned out to be more than $500,000.

But I know the high stakes of being a college president these days, especially at an HBCU, so here is where I put my money on the table and declare that I plan to donate to Talladega. This is NOT a reward, but a challenge. I expect y'all to graduate and to go on to do great things, but I also demand that you set an example by regularly contributing to your institution so this never happens again.

11. Omarosa: Don't worry...I'm saving all my ire for her to be published in a piece over at the Busy Black Woman blog.

A Little Calmer, but Still P*&%

I just read a simply outrageous article in the Huffington Post about forced sterilizations of women by the State of North Carolina in the last century.  In case anyone needed reminding, the last century ended just 11 years ago.

WTF?!??: North Carolina Eugenics Board Victims Fight for Justice

Of course, what pissed me off more were the ignorant comments of my fellow Americans who think that forced sterilizations might be a good idea for the future of this country.  And so the slippery slope just got a little slimier.

Look you a$$es, the choice to have children is really not up to any one of us.  The state does not get to decide, and believe it or not, neither do any of us.  The Good Lord decides who gets born into this world. 

And Lord help you unfeeling, all-I-care-about-is-ME-ME-ME whiners, because one day, one of these unnecessary, unfortunate, poor children whom you complain live off of your un-unionized tax dollars earned working as a greeter at the Wal-Mart...someone whom you would never deign to even look in the eye, will save your worthless life.  It might not be in a way that you think significant, but somehow, in some cosmic way, you will continue to live by the grace of God because the least of these will make some sacrifice or develop some skill set that will keep you on the mortal coil.

Don't believe me?  The story of Henrietta Lacks comes to mind, because she too was a poor woman that you probably could not have cared less for in her lifetime.  To you, the cancer that killed her was unfortunate, but a fact of life (because some people are just born unlucky)...except the cells taken from her have been used for decades to do medical research.  She was one of the least of these.  I could mention the men who were subjects of the Tuskegee Experiment, the people who are AIDS-research guinea pigs, the men who risk life and limb to mine coal so that your laptop has power , and every migrant farmworker who picks produce, because in your myopic view, these people have no worth and provide no monetary benefit to society. 

Well, God help you.  Because one day, you'll need Him to take pity on you.

#INeedAVacationBeforeSomeoneGetsHurt

I need a vacation before someone gets hurt.

I need a vacation before someone gets hurt.

I need a vacation before someone gets hurt.

So, I guess if you could not tell from the title or from the first three paragraphs, I am stressed out.  For real.  Sho nuff.  And today is the day that I am going to do something definitive about it.

I got stopped by a police officer for failing to use my turn signal when making a left-hand turn in an intersection (on the left turning green light, mind you).  I totally thought that he pulled me over to be an asshole, and then it just so happened that I did not have my updated registration or insurance card in the car...as I normally would.  When he came back over to give me the ticket, I freaked out because again, I KNOW he was being an asshole, and refused to accept the first ticket.  So he wrote me a second ticket for my out of date insurance card.  And while I was prepared to have him haul me off to jail over a stupid moving violation, I signed the second ticket and drove home.

Now I have two tickets, and a very very very short fuse.  The next person who says or does anything to piss me off, and I don't care how minor, will get their head ripped off.  I am serious!!!

So clearly, I need a vacation.  I need time on the beach, time in the sun, drinks by the pool, a massage by a naked man named Sven, etc. except the husband wants to plan some elaborate get-away for some time in the future.  No I need to get out of here right NOW before I rip off someone's head. 

I need to leave today before I rip off someone's head.

I need to leave today before I rip off someone's head.

And again, as you can probably tell, I am serious. 

I am not having a very good year...and while I know that it could be worse and that it is silly to get all bent out of shape over a ticket I could have avoided (because if I had just turned on yellow a few minutes earlier, that asshole cop would not have been there at the intersection to stop me).  But I am not having a good year and after several years of not having a good year, I am about to lose it.  I just need a chance to think, without obligations, tasks, burdens or worries.  I need a retreat.  I need a break.  I know that everything will be here eagerly waiting my return, and that is exactly the point--

NONE OF THE SH&*% THAT IS DRIVING ME CRAZY AT THIS VERY MOMENT IS GOING ANYWHERE!!!  I will still need to pay a ticket for mouthing off to an asshole cop.  And that cop will still be an asshole.

OK, all done venting.  I'm going for a drive...

What the World Needs Now...

Is not another list of things that annoy me, but I just can't help it! I've been on a roll at the BBW blog lately, and I feel as if I'm neglecting the Cafe.  So here is my list of ten things that have been annoying me of late:

1. Old cartoon shows becoming live action movies - I watched the Smurfs, the Chipmunks, Fat Albert, He-Man, Inspector Gadget, The Tick, Underdog, and Scooby-Doo as a kid and I prefer them as cartoons where it made sense that a pot-smoking guy named Shaggy could communicate with his dog. It does not make sense in real life that a guy would adopt singing chipmunks or that a beagle would develop super powers (or that somehow Jason Lee would be associated with both of these craptastic movies).

2. TV Trials - This is not just about the Casey Anthony trial, but about televised court cases in general. Because the results of the Anthony, OJ, Michael Jackson, Phil Spector, Robert Blake, Anna Nicole Smith, Bill Clinton's impeachment and every other TV trial is pretty much going to disappoint if you were hoping for some type of public execution.  These TV trials are so riveting because the prosecutors and the media are more focused on swaying the TV audience than they are at proving reasonable doubt to the 12 folks in the jury box.   So if you want to see a slam dunk, can't lose trial, you need to go back to watching Perry Mason or Matlock reruns.

3. Contest shows - These are as old as TV, so my complaint is not that they exist, but that they seem to multiply like rabbits or tribbles. And there are more of these contests shows airing than scripted serials.  If I see another show about dating, racing, weight-loss, singing, designing, cooking or modeling...

4. Awards Shows on MTV, BET, Vh1, or CMT - At some point, the awardees themselves are going to wonder what the heck that thing is on the mantle.  These shows remind me of those soccer games where no one keeps score, but the sad truth is that everyone is NOT a winner.  Maybe I am just annoyed because no one has offered me anything yet...

5. The Kardashians.

6. Twitter Beefs - Just acknowledging that such a thing exists seems childish, especially when you consider that it is a war of words waged in 140 characters or less.  Worse, a few of the participants are grown a$$ folks with jobs who should know better (yeah I'm talking 'bout you Roland S. Martin)!

7. Hypersensitivity About President Obama - He's black.  And a few folks in this country are not cool with that fact.  And in a nation where we pride ourselves on the right to free speech, I say we let these fools say whatever the heck they want to say about him and the rest of us people of color.  Maybe it will help to rid them of the ignorance once they spew it out and feel the backlash.  And if their ignorance goes unchecked, well, I am not worried about the POTUS because the Secret Service are some pretty scary dudes.

8. The GOP Candidates for President - For the most part, I am ignoring them, but the two craziest and unavoidable declared candidates happen to be a Morehouse Man and a Foster Mom from Iowa/Minnesota.  And the Democrats practice bad affirmative action?  Yeah right!

9. Tavis Smily and Cornel West - This could possibly brand me as hypersensitive to the criticism about the POTUS, but I don't think so.  I actually think there are some valid points of contention that these brothers have against the positions taken by the Obama Administration on certain issues.  Dr. West's primary complaint appears to be that he could not secure a ticket for his mama to attend the Inauguration; Tavis' beef is that then-candidate Obama chose to announce his presidency in Illinois than attend the State of the Black Union Gabfest in 2007.  Thus, the roots of discontent come from personal slights that have then been conflated into policy disagreements.  OK, but guess what guys--I volunteered at the DC for Obama headquarters every Friday night during the month of October 2008 and I did not get an invitation to the inauguration or a job.  I could be pissed; instead, I found something better to do with my energy...maybe you should do the same.

10. Obama - And this is where I prove that I am not hypersensitive to the President.  Mr.Obama, please reveal the method to the madness before I lose hope.  I read everyday where you appear to capitulate to the forces of evil that are holding the country hostage and I cannot help but to think that you are either the smartest man alive, or the most naive.  Because I think I know better, I am going with the smartest man alive, but could you wink or clear your throat or send some other sign that you are still on our side?  Thanks.

It's Me or Your Dog

...Cat, bird, hamster or any other furry friend that lives in your house.  I have allergies.  And though I might be an invited guest in your home, it is clear that your pet is going to win in this showdown.  So here is my official letter of resignation.

I have had allergies to animal fur/hair/dander since childhood.  (Additionally, in case you were wondering, I also have seasonal hay fever and eczema.)  And no, I have not outgrown them, and no they are not specific to any particular type of animal (except maybe fish).  The cycle of my reactions have been consistent all of these 30+ years...when invited to someone's home and unbeknownst to me, there is an indoor furry creature of some kind who is allowed free reign of the place, after about 30 minutes, I start to sneeze.  My eyes water and then my chest starts to tighten.  Generally I can only take another 30 minutes until things become unbearable and I have to leave.

Yes, it makes everyone feel uncomfortable, but there really is nothing I can do to except to suffer.  Or leave.  Or die right there in your living room.

Before anyone thinks to ask if there something I can take...the answer is yes, I can take an allergy pill 30 minutes in advance of my exposure to your little furry darling.  But please note that I need to know that you have a pet before I cross your threshold.  Otherwise, I have only 30 minutes before total allergic reaction shutdown.  Of course, if I do not know about your pet, then it is not your fault that I can still detect its existence even if I never lay eyes on Fluffy.  Yes, my allergies are that sensitive.

So, what are my options?  Well, as a precaution, I can take allergy pills all the time, which should inoculate me from a potential reaction.  Yes, great for you and your pet--not so great for my wallet or my inner ear (prone to infections every Spring thanks to my seasonal allergies).  Well, shouldn't I be used to this?  No, because prior to the recent crop of allergy medications that are available now, my only choices were Sudafed and Benadryl, which were very effective at making me drowsy.  In advance, they only worked when combined with a hot cup of tea after I was already exposed to the allergens.  When the better allery drugs like Claritin, Allegra and Zirtec were developed, they were very expensive and only available with a prescription.  Which would have been fine until I discovered that in some cases, the side effects were worse than the actual allergies that I was trying to prevent.

Now, no excuses because I can take the OTC generics.  And while I am happy to do my part, YOU pet owners could be a little more considerate.  Maybe it is not a good idea to let an animal shed on all of your furniture.  Or if you know that company is coming over, maybe you should vacuum first.  And I do not think it is asking too much that you temporarily banish your pet to another room if I start sneezing.  And no, discussing the allergies while I am in the throws of a reaction will not lessen the intensity...

Because looky here, in the off chance that I might get caught off guard and suffer the Big One, would you be able to live with yourself if I actually died right there on your sofa?  OK, that is rather dramatic, but it is a little annoying to think that if there was a choice between the suffering of a human being and that of an animal, most people would be content to watch my head explode.

I'm Just Saying...

I love the husband, but federal holidays are torture when I have stuff to do and he is at home with nothing to do...

I have been trying to write for the last two hours, yet he has not seemed to notice.  He has wandered in here at least four times to show me something or to talk about something random.  The fact that I politely stated that I was trying to write notwithstanding, he now expects me to be ready in half an hour to go out because he has a Groupon.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is one reason why I cannot get anything done.  I have a groove going and someone or something intrudes.  Last week I was suffering with writers' block.  Now, I am trying to concentrate but can't because he has the radio turned all the way up (even though he just left to go to the gym) and wants to spend time with me on his day off. 

My day will be over...my to do list half done...and the rest of my week overscheduled just because.  I hate three day weekends.

More Writers' Block Drama

OK, so I am  now in day five or six of this...I cannot concentrate.  I write and rewrite nearly every sentence.  I am going quasi-insane.

One trick that I remember from school was to write in stream of conscience, which presumably would help to get something on the page.  So here goes:

I was downstairs listening to WAMU and after about six straight days of listening to them beg for money, I still have not made the call or logged onto the site to make a donation.  I normally would not feel so bad about this, but I do this time around.  I never contribute, yet my car radio is locked on to the station and whenever we go out of town, we search around for the local NPR affiliate.  We are cheaters--worse...we are thieves.  Of course, I justify this behavior by pointing out that we are taxpayers.  We contribute to NPR and PBS through that $1 in tax revenue that goes to support them.  Also, we buy from some of the entities that sponsor their programming--we buy gas and food, so indirectly we support public broadcasting.  I know, this is one of those lies that I tell myself and so far it isn't working.  I still feel guilty.  Fine, I'll give!

I need to tell another truth--I am afraid...of what?  Everything.  Afraid of my loans going into default because I refuse to speak to the loan people.  Afraid of what will happen once that occurs and I have to explain myself.  Afraid of the march of time and what will happen to some of my loved ones.  Afraid to admit that my fear of their demise is also a fear of my own demise.  And a fear of what exactly it is that I have contributed to the world since right now it isn't anything very significant.  Afraid that my "work" is nothing important because I am not really doing anything.  Afraid that I will be exposed as a fraud.

I was watching old videos this afternoon and I believe that music was better in the 80s and 90s.  But I am sure that everyone older than me believes that music was better in the 60s and 70s.  And I agree with them...does that mean that I am really old?  No, it just means that in the past ten years, I have heard little, if anything, memorable or significant enough to compete with the music of my youth.  OK, maybe Beyonce and Maxwell.

I am not sure if this is working yet, but I am going to keep trying...

Public Service Announcement

(Perhaps my block is tumbling...)

Ahem, PLEASE REVIEW YOUR GRAMMAR RULES FOR THE USE OF WORDS!!!

For the sake of every literate person who reads your comments posted to blogs, articles and Facebook profiles, and even Twitter updates...please know which word you intend to use and then use it in the correct context.  Geez!  I know that in our modern shorthand, certain words get shortened or become superfluous when trying to express oneself in 140 characters or less, but some of this is just ridiculous.  A quick grammar lesson:

1. Too (adverb); to (preposition); two (number)
Used in sentences: There are too many errors in your writing.  It has gotten to the point where I want to scream.  Notice how I properly used the word "to" in that last sentence two times?

2. Where (adverb used to ask the location of something or someone)
Used in a sentence: Where is she?  Where did you put the newspaper?

3. Were (verb used in the past tense along with pronouns you, we and they)
You were acting silly while we were trying to be serious and they were attempting to rob us.

4. Wear (verb); wore (past tense of wear)
I may wear a brown dress to the party.  I wore a black dress instead.

OK, enough before this becomes too cumbersome...hopefully you get the point.

Writer's Block

Can you believe it?  I have writer's block!!!

This sucks because I have had some really great ideas for articles to post at both blogs, but for whatever reason, the moment I sit down at the computer all ready to go, my mind goes completely blank.  So I thought that I might trick myself into writing something significant by writing about my block.

No luck...just a lot of mistyping going on.  Oh well.

I think this is the Lord's way of telling me that I have more important things to do.  Like getting ready for the class I am supposed to teach in a few days.

Grumbles and Groans

So today I was in line at the CVS and it was taking forever. There were two people in front of me, including a woman who apparently was the reason for the hold up. While she shifted back and forth impatiently waiting for the cashier to return to the counter, I decided to flip through this month's Ebony (which has Michelle Obama on the cover, btw).

So anywho, about 15 minutes passed before the cashier returned and the woman at the front of the line got loud. REALLY LOUD. Now I and every other customer in the CVS knows that she was waiting for pre-natal vitamins that were not ready.

Now, I don't know why she had to broadcast her disgust all over the CVS. While it is perfectly understandable to be frustrated at seemingly indifferent customer service, I am assuming that no one was really all that interested in standing in line for an additional five minutes while she berated the cashier.

On Saturday, the woman in front of me at the Macy's kept changing her mind about the clothes she selected. Now every few feet, there is a price scanner, so she could have found out the cost of everything before she got on line. She seemed utterly unfazed that she was holding things up--and all for less than five items.

I don't have any substantial conclusion. I just wish that those geeks at MIT would hurry up and make some of the technology from Star Trek available so that I can minimize contact with annoying, self-absorbed people.

Random Observations About Misplaced Priorities

This is not to make light or make fun of all the people who are mourning the death of R&B singer Gerald Levert. After all, it was shocking to learn last Friday that Levert had died of an apparent heart attack at the age of 40.

40 years old. Seven years older than I will be in less than three weeks (God willing). Three years older than my husband. Too young to leave this world.

Yet, in my shock, I have put this in perspective, the same way that I put every sudden death in perspective. It is tragic because he had children who will now grow up without a father. Sad because his own father is still alive and must deal with having to bury a child. Ironic because he was reportedly working on a reality show about his efforts to lose weight.

But to all of the people who are acting like this is the end of the world--GET REAL.

Why is it that every time a black musician or performer dies, we act like someone has just slapped our mammas? I knew to expect tributes this morning all over black radio because the news came well after most of morning shows had aired last Friday. But, I was not expecting what I have witnessed in the last 72 hours.

The weekend tributes were actually sane, but it it all got out of control this morning. One woman wrote into the Steve Harvey Show to share her grief over the news, which was okay until she mentioned her "full-length" Gerald Levert tattoo and how happy she was that he got to see it... Then there was the conversation on the Tom Joyner Show in which Jacque Reid (former serious news anchor on BET) suggested that this was a really big deal and that she was disappointed that the mainstream media had not caught on and given this top-notch coverage.

Of course, all of this was going on at the same time that people were gathering on the National Mall to break ground for the Martin Luther King Jr., National Memorial. You remember Dr. King, the civil rights martyr who was killed because of his dedication to equality?

So not to take anything away from those who are truly mourning the passing of Gerald Levert, but just out of curiosity, have you donated to the King Memorial Fund yet? I ask because the effort to raise money for this memorial has been underway for at least five years, and I was wondering--just suppose we had channeled that same amount of energy towards building the King Memorial. It would be built by now.

Think of all of the money that was spent on Gerald Levert CDs and concerts and such...and then realize that it took major corporations to kick in enough money to finally dedicate the King Memorial ten years after President Clinton signed the legislation. Ten years after Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc. began to solicit money.

Comparatively speaking, if this effort had to wait on us, it would have taken another 20 years.

And I am not dissing your love of Gerald Levert. Your money is yours to spend on whomever and whatever you want. But I just think that we need to realign some of our priorities. It should not be left up to corporations (who want their names etched in stone and receive the residual benefits of goodwill advertising) to build our memorials for us. Black people should feel just as compelled to remember and honor the legacy of Dr. King and the many others who sacrificed for equality as fervently as they mourn the death of a singer. For most of us working black folks, a commitment of $50 would not break our budgets. So what are you waiting for?

Somehow I get the feeling that there will be a lot more Gerald Levert CDs sold in the coming weeks than donations to the King Memorial. And that is just as tragic, sad and ironic.

****
I want to acknowledge "60 minutes" and "The Larry King Show" for devoting their entire programs to remembering the life of Ed Bradley, who also passed away suddenly last week due to complications from leukemia. It was very touching to see his colleagues remember someone whom they truly admired and who seemingly had such a profound effect on so many people. Twenty-five years ago when Bradley made history as the only black anchor on 60 minutes, I doubt that any other black journalist would have been similarly remembered.

I mention this because I wanted to correct an assertion I heard this morning that the mainstream media often fails to acknowledge the lives prominent of African Americans. The complainers then suggested that attention to these issues usually comes from black media, black radio in particular. Perhaps...

But are we that shallow? Doesn't it make more sense that black radio is the venue for honoring Gerald Levert's career since radio was his primary medium? Ed Bradley had been on TV for nearly 30 years, so maybe it was just more appropriate that the tributes to his career took place on that medium.

Let's not lose perspective on this because in the grand scheme of things, we must recognize our own shortcomings when it comes to setting priorities for the future. Does it matter whether the mainstream media responds if we fail to place a priority on remembering our own?

The best tribute we can make to each of of these men--Ed Bradley, Gerald Levert, Martin Luther King and every other great African American pioneer, legend, crusader, etc.--is to invest in efforts that ensure that they will not be forgotten. Give to the King Memorial fund, to HBCUs (both King and Bradley were graduates) or join one of those campaigns to Save the Music in public schools. Or maybe become a mentor to a young black male so that his life will be worth something.

Just a thought...