'Tis The Season. . .

Merry Christmas!



Portate Bien. . .



BE SAFE!

For Better or For Worse

I had a conversation with a girlfriend about the drama associated with weddings and funerals. Here are some of my pet peeves of the events up to and including the service(s):

I don't like the little dance steps that bridesmaids/groomsmen do coming down the aisle. Just walk, dammit. It's distracting.

I don't approve of tiny children (circa 2-3) being flower children/ring bearers. The poor little chaps have prolly been up all day and virtually all night getting all fru-frood up for the wedding, then having to endure the coos, oohs, and aahs, of the guests as they sashay down the plank that must be a mile long to them. Dog gone near amounts to quasi-torture for the littles.

The only thing that should be large in a wedding is the dowry. Not the wedding party. I could do without the junior bridesmaides, the double ring bearers, maid of honors, etc.

Wedding planners who look more flustered than the wedding party. Aren't you supposed to be the voice of reason, the sound of calm, and the leveler. I would prefer that you not walk around in your house shoes looking ragged.

The "I didn't plan my speech very well and now I am liquored up and so I've talked too much" bridesmaid. Get to the point.

The bouquet/garter ceremony: I never participate in this. You have here a bevy of beauties that are languishing in front of the bride, jockeying for position so that you can claim the title of "I Got Next", yet when the garter ceremony comes along, the floor is scattered wider than a pack of marbles, the men few and far between.

That dayum "new" electric slide. I can't stand it. The one that has the 'cha cha' in it. It drives me absolutely nuts. And you have to focus too hard on what you're doing and the words, Give me the old one, to the tune of "Candy' - a la "The Best Man" which is more fluid and thought-less, and that's good enough for me.

Why is everyone so intent upon watching the family mourn? Everyone wants to see how "his momma, sister, wife, daughter" is going to 'take it'. (I must say, I have participated in this macabre scenario).

Family members arguing about who gets to ride in the family car, what the deceased is going to wear, who is reading the obituary, and who put in on the flowers - and who didn't.

Something about that "Sunrise/Sunset"on the obituary drives me nuts. It's not cute to me. I don't know where it originated but it's annoying.

It bothers me when people say that the deceased is doing what they normally do in the afterlife. "I bet Tim is playing the great football game with Moses", or "You know Mama Jeanne must be cooking up her famous spaghetti for everybody to enjoy". Um, probably NOT.

Little screaming children running around like banshees during the service, and the parent sitting there like the child doesn't even BELONG to them (add that to the weddings as well).

Why does everybody hug, kiss, talk, etc., and say "It shouldn't take a funeral for us to get together/see each other. Let's keep in touch". THEN. . . you don't see hide nor hare of the mofo until the NEXT funeral.

The prodigal son/daughter, who clings/wails/falls out-or any combination thereof, when they view the body, knowing good and well they raised more hell than heaven to the parent when they were alive.

Those are my pet peeves. . . (Thanks, Nicole, for help with the post)

All I Want For Christmas is Christmas

Why is Erry-boddy so scurred and are so interested in being politically correct? People are breaking their necks, bending over backwards trying to find substitutions for the word Christmas, when in fact, nobody has really made a stink over it. Now the 'N' word, and 'Gay Marriage' - people ARE making a fuss over.

Oh how I long for the days of old where Linus from Charlie Brown mulled over the fact that Christmas was so commercialized, versus the actual holiday in itself it getting dizzolved into a maze of Season's Greetings, and Happy Holidays. All these ads, which are obviously targeting Christmas shoppers, are actually so PC they are bringing a hoard of attention to the fact that the word is being skipped over altogether. After all, stockings are not hung by the Chimney on New Year's Day, nor are visions of sugarplums dancing in your head on Thanksgiving. Cranberry sauce, yes, but sugarplums, no.

Christmas is a holiday, in which 95 of the Americans celebrate. So, why is erry-boddy's panties in a bunch over this particular day? I could go into my own philiosophicizin on THAT but that's not advancing the story. I mean, do you think that telling someone "Merry Christmas" is going to get them so worked up they are going to get the ACLU involved? Hell if it ain't broke, don't fix it. I could go on and on, but I will just summate here (thanks to a very special person who helped me with all of this - now this I knew but I didn't have many of the holidays straight):

Most holidays are result of a compromise that the Catholic Church (I am not Catholic I am trying to get to a point here) made with the pagans in order to spread the gospel. Christmas is a combination of the pagan festival of lights and the Catholic Christ-Mass and later combined with his birth. Easter was the pagan festival of harvest. . .Thus the connection of eggs and the bunny. St. Valentine was a pagan who worshipped cupid and cupid was a warrior and it is not have anything to do associated with love. Halloweeen was the day of the dead to honor spirits and keep them happy to they don't haunt you. . .Hence the connection of scary people dressed up coming to your house, and you giving them an offering for them to go away.

Come on, do you really believe that most of the people that celebrate Christmas the way Christmas is celebrated in it's fullest in our Western society (Black Friday, Christmas Eve, After Christmas Sales), are truly worried about anything that has to do with gold, frankincense, and myrrh?

If you really want to get specific and PC on all the holidays, then let's not stop there:

Change MLK to: "Happy Assassinate a World Leader"Day

Change Independence Day to: "British People Take the Land from the Native Americans, call it their own, and then have a Group of British People Claim it as their own By a Declaration" Day.

Change Thanksgiving to: "Happy Slaughter the Indians and Contaminate them with Diseases" Day

Change Kwanzaa To: "Happy Black People's version of Hanukkah" Day.

Change New Year's to: "Happy Another 365 days worth of Bull Sh**" Day.

I could go on and on but you get the point.

Most people KNOW how I celebrate Christmas and what it means to me from a personal perspective. I take stock in that, let people do what they do, and concentrate on me and mines.

My personal belief: No, the Messiah was not born on 12/25, he was born closer to the summer. Had to be said, enough said. . . but I DO celebrate Christmas, in the general sense of the world, and what value the day has FOR ME.

So, Bah, Humbug to anybody that sells Holiday Trees, Holiday Presents, and Holiday Egg Nog.

Merry Christmas!

The Big Move

Three years.

Three years with two wonderful supervisors who:

- Cared About Their Employees
- Made sure that Christmas and Thanksgiving parties were a blast
- Randomly bought lunch and/or dinner in for the crew
- Could go to them and get a loan for any reason, interest free, taken out of your paycheck in convenient bi-weekly deductions.

Laid back. Jeans atmosphere. Most of us shared the same spiritual background, beliefs and principles.

All was well in the world, and a good time had by all.

Until the Big Move.

We moved into a building that was twice the size of our former building, complete with a state of the art breakroom, (really - I mean leather couches, mounted televisions, the whole nine). All the principles had their 8 ball in the corner pocket offices. Life was good. But the mortgage was not. It had doubled.

Sidebar: I did not participate in the weekend company move, because I, too was in the process of moving from one location to the other, the same weekend, so I was given a free pass.

So, when I came back from the move, I attributed the fact that I wasn't able to locate my desk to fatigue from my own move.

Perhaps I didn't look hard enough. Perhaps, in the disarray of the move, some of the desks were not assembled yet. I chalked it up to that.

Until I went into the receptionist area. In the lobby. With all of the phones.

And there were my boxes. And my nameplate.

((INSERT BLANK STARE))

WTF? Click on this link to view the EXACT desk, company, and location (I was on the right hand side).

According to the principles, I was to answer the phone for the receptionist if it went over three rings (the receptionist by the way was a lazy son of a *&$#% who never came to work on time, and totally took her time answering the phones)

So:

I was supposed to do the marketing for the company (I designed the silver sign you see), put out the company newsletter, plan special events, pull data queries and reports, analyze data, AND answer the phone saying "Welcome to Nelson & Associates, your source for PVC Pipes" on the third emma effen ring? AND sit with my back to all the Mr. Charlie's that come in the office. Um, Hell no. Strike One.

Second incident: I am nodding in the breakroom (Not laying out on the couch, feet up like Rick James on a Dave Chappelle Episode), but just sitting down on the couch, with my elbow on the arm of the couch. One of the principles came in here and said "No sleeping in the break room" I was like "On the couch?" He was like "No, in the breakroom".

He might as well told me No Parking on the Dance Floor. Strike Two.

Final Call: I was at my desk, helping the file clerk (who reported to me, who sat in the left chair) do something mundane, and in the process of it all, I was trying to take some adhesive off the back of a magnet. The principle passed by me, saw me picking at something and then called me in his office.

He asked me was I filing my nails.

At that point I could care less. I actually moved around to the side of his desk, and told him "You thought I was filing my nails? You thought I was filing my NAILS? I have worked here three years, never call out sick, always on time, and you are harassing me like I'm on parole. Why would you say something like that to me. AND anyway, I have acrylics, I don't have to file my nails." :P

He turned beet red. Strike Three.

But he wasn't mad as me. We moved in there in April, 2000. By August, I made the big move my own self; with 10K more to boot. I myself was raising the bar. I attributed the fact that their mortgage doubled could have attributed to the stress and/or weird behavior, but I don't have to partake in that.

Have you moved on, or are looking to make that big move? And tell us why!

December Old Skool Joint

I know every word - And I know YOU.DO.TOO!

Fresh Squeezed OJ

Let's get some basics out the way.

I believe he did it. Whether or not as an a principle, or accessory - details are irrelevant. (Sidebar: Peep out the 'accessory' link).

I believe that he is a hot mess that gives me a headache everytime I see him.

I say all this to say that what I say is not in defense of HIM. It is questioning the rage of AmeriKKKA and their intense devotion, fascination, and preoccupation with Orenthal James Simpson and the subsequent murders that are forever linked to his name, even more so than the Heisman, Naked Gun, and Hertz Rent a Car. . .

Apart from the grief that the Brown family and the Goldman family have to endure from losing a loved one in the most brutal way possible, OJ, and all of the variables surrounding his case brings out the worst in society, where what is said about him cleverly masquerades what is felt regarding: black men and the supposed criminal element that surrounds them, interracial relationships, (black men and white women in particular), and how the racial dynamics of this entire case were a platform for those to discuss how they 'really' feel without discussing how they really felt.

This case is over a decade old. Yet, the mere mention of OJ into a conversation with liberal and conservative Mr. Charlie's and Becky's bring these words to life:

"He is scum"
"He is an animal"
"He deserves to be tortured and bludgeoned just like he did his victims".
"The lowest form of human being"
"Those jurors were idiots".

It is never an intellectual conversation. It churns the clock back, counterclockwise, to October 03, 1995, where lines were drawn on levels that had nothing to do with the OJ case.I have yet to hear a logical, valid argument that sounds similar to this:

"Yes, I believe he did it. I also believe that the prosecution put on a very poor case, and that, in that, the jurors had to make a decision based on holes in the prosecution case"

And, it IS true. The prosecution put on a VERY poor case. It was a circus. It was disorganized, emotionally charged (and a lawyer's projection of such should never be that way, until it is opening and closing argument time). The case could have been stronger, but the DA's office did not take measures to prevent this from occurring. You have two individuals (Marcia Clark, Christopher Darden), who behaved like new booties on the trial floor and petulant children at trial's end - and, have also, subsequently profited richly as a result of being associated with this case.

Switch reels. ROBERT BLAKE, where, not even two years ago, he was accused of murdering his wife, perhaps not the dime piece that Nicole Brown Simpson is projected as in the media, but a person, nonetheless, that left an infant daughter behind. You have mounting evidence that points the way of guilt for Baretta, enough where he went all the way through the trial process. He, too, was found not guilty - HOWEVER. . .

There was no public outrage. . . There were no comments from the National Organization of Women. . .NONE of the matching variables that occured with the OJ case, that virtually turned society into folks that transitioned mass hysterial reminiscent of the cabbage patch doll craze of the 80's

Baretta is now free (no pun intended) to move on with his life.

And then you have this here. . .



The beating of a grown man on tape, where the "Not Guilty" verdicts sparked a recipe for disaster that began on Florence and Normadie. Did this affect people long term? Where is the outrage for that NOW, as that area still struggles to rebuild? When Mark Furhman wrote books, was their outrage from an officer who has turned calling suspect and other people of color niggaz into being a correspondent and lucrative speaking engagements? Is any of his money, or city money, being used to rebuild that area of Los Angeles?

Yet, in the case of OJ and "If I Did It" (which by the way, is ridiculous in and of itself), brings people out of the woodwork, brings the all the racial epitephs (disguised as other monikers, such as 'animal', un-human, etc), back out the closet.

Open Wounds. Fresh Squeezed OJ.

You tell me. . .What angers people about OJ IN PARTICULAR. . .where they don't project the same resentment with, say, any other so called "miscarriage of justice?" Do you agree, or disagree with the statements posted here?

Mac & Cheese, Peach Cobbler, Bullshit, and Hell No

Thanksgiving, 2005.

Last year, my father came to visit. No one in the family had seen him in several years. Now, my family is not as close as others, but it was a great experience to have him back in town. Before I go any further, let me give you the players of the game so you can follow the story. The names have been changed to protect the guilty:

Rose Colored Glasses: My Mother
Rich and Stingy: My Brother
Queen of Sheba: My Sister in Law
Diamond: My niece
Frick and Frack: My sister in law's two kids
The Ying Yang Twins: My brother's two kids
P: Yours truly.

Considering that my mother wanted to plan a big event for the family to be around, I insisted that it be held at my place. People could just come in and out all day, and do what they do. However, my mother suggested that we have it at Rich and Stingy's house. I didn't want to, but hey if my mother likes it, I loved it.

Queen of Sheba doesn't know how to cook. All she knows how to cook are greens. So, my mother and I prepared the entire meal. I wasn't going to cook much, but I know my mother would have tried to go all out by herself and I was only trying to help HER out. . .Really. If anybody knows me, it was strickly because of Rose Colored Glasses and her idea of what a holiday should be.

Everything I am about to tell you now, I did NOT find out until a week after Thanksgiving, because my mother knew that I would blow my turkey feathers. Rich and Stingy initially told my mother that if we had the dinner over his house, there could be no kids allowed. (I have 12 nieces and nephews - 2 of which come from him). Rose Colored Glasses then said "We won't have it there, then. I am sure the Ying Yang Twins and Frick and Frack will be there, and I'm doing all the cooking? You must be crazy."

He calls her back and says: "Okay, well kids can come". Later on Queen of Sheba calls my mother and let's her know that she is not cooking anything because she's too busy to be bothered with that kind of stuff. (They have been married for two years. She doesn't clean nor cook - he married the wrong woman, that's another story).

Then we find out that Diamond's brother (my sister's children), a man/child who has had some er, trouble with the law, was promptly seen as Bin Laden himself by Queen of Sheba and Rich and Stingy, because they were in fear of their lives (buh-leeve me when I say it wasn't that serious).

(reminder: I know none of this until a week after).

After I stay up until three am doing everything, and then packing the food in my mother's SUV, and then going to sleep for awhile. I get over there, her family is not speaking to anybody, they are lapping up the food like there is no tomorrow and taking plates home to boot. I had to hoo-bang on her sister, who was blocking the back doorway, looking at me. I asked, "Are you going to move, or am I going to move you?"

So, immediately after eating, the Queen of Sheba revs out the door with her Louie Vuitton bag and her family, no doubt to hang out with her mother and discuss (read: gossip) about everything and everybody.

Trust me when I tell you that I am making this sound good. . .

Fast Forward - Week of November 18, 2006: Email Received:

From: Rich and Stingy
To: P
Re: Mac and Cheese, Peach Cobber

Need to contract with you and mom for Thanksgiving. Think you all help? Food for about 10-15 people. Let me know. Thanks.
((Insert Blank Face here)). WTF??
1. Who are the 10/15 people? Must mean a pre-scheduled list that you and the Queen of Sheba make up, considering you and yours and hers make up 6? And I'm supposed to be cooking? Are you NUTS?

2. Does Rose colored glasses and P look like indentured servants?

3. Does he think I give a phuck after what happened last year, not that I wanted to participate, THEN?

4. See 1-3.
So, as you know, my prompt response to all of this was:
Bull Shit, and Hell No.
Do you have any NERVY friends/relatives? Or, have you had a memorable Thanksgiving to speak about (Good or Bad - but of course, you KNOW we love drama here at KPAT-FM).

Trouble Standard

I have always expressed discomfort with double standards. Not because I am this "I am woman, hear me roar", but because I have always believe that it is damaging to both genders. I think women utilize them even more heavily than some men do, often times selectively choosing the standard that is appropriate for their needs.

I feel bad for some of the brothers! They don't know if what they do is seen as overly aggressive, passive, or anything in between, based upon the variance of attitudes that women have (liberal, moderate, conservative). As for the 'fairer' sex (hehe), sometimes we can't feel out way through, seeing one thing and then hearing another, or vice versa.

I couldn't think of a fancier way to say this, so here are some of the double standards that get on my nerves: Those that are not fair to EITHER ONE OF US. I have a lot of the ones that are unfair to the guys in there, because I think they catch a lot of flack from this as well, but it's indoctrinated in our cultures, effecitively psychologically castrating them. Might not go that far, but using the phrase 'psychologically castrating' makes me appear to be somewhat intellectual. So, without further adieu, like to hear it, hear it goes:

If a woman has custody of her children, then nothing of it. If a man has custody of his children, then something 'really' must have been wrong with the mother, (versus him just being the more appropriate one to rear the child).

If a man takes care of a woman and showers her with gifts, he is taking care of business and keeping his woman happy. If a woman does it, she's stupid and being taken advantage of (as if someone can MAKE you do this).

A woman cheats; its emotional; a man cheats, it's purely sexual.

If a man is agressive in the work force, he has a take charge attitude; if a woman does it, she's overly ambitious and a bitch, to boot.

A man opens the door for you, he is a gentleman. But if he encounters a "I am woman hear me roar" woman, she thinks he is being condescending. So, he doesn't open the door for a woman, and then he's considered unthoughtful. (Poor guy can't win).

A girl wears a "Boys Are Dumb" t-shirt; folks laugh; a man wears "Girls are Dumb", he's sexist and ran out of town.

A man sleeps with a lot of women - well, that's da MAN! A woman does it, she's the freak of the week!

If the woman seeks alimony, well, hell, she should, all that she had to put up with. If a man seeks spousal support, he's a pussy, whoremongering gold-digger.

A man dates a younger woman; he can't handle a 'real woman'; a woman dates a younger man, then she's just exploring her options and meeting a mate compatible with her sexual energy.

Woman tries to get in an all male academy - well, she SHOULD be let in, why not? Man tries to get into an all-female academy, well, he's up to something, just trying to make a point, and THIS SHOULDN'T BE TOLERATED!!

If a man is angry, something must have really made him mad; if a woman is angry, she must be PMS'ing.

If a man keeps a woman 'in check', he's controlling. If a woman keeps a man in check, she's being strong, or keeping him in line (or, she could be married to Doug Christie)

Guys 'get' a girl pregnant. (Like he's a sexual predator or something).

Brokeback Mountain? UGH! Beyonce starring in a lesbo movie w/Eva Longoria? Well, that's another story!

Speaking of sexual predators; if a teacher has an affair with an underage girl and get's her pregnant, he's a sick bastard that deserves to be put under the jail. If a teacher (female) does it to an underage boy, then she's bipolar (with a husband named Vili).

Whether or not I AGREE with any of these is NOT THE POINT HERE!!!! (hehe). I'm just sayin. . .

So, Ladies, and Gentleman, boys and girls. . .

Any double standards you've experienced? Have you thought/used/been a victim of any of the above? Open Forum!

"Positive" - Or Negative?

November 7th is my friend Jamal's birthday. It's also the day that New York elected it's first black mayor, David Dinkins. This is also the day of the fiasco that occurred between George Bush, Al Gore, and the Sunny state of Florida, home of fresh squeezed orange juice, Jeb Bush, and shady polling places.

Those are some of the things that happened on November 07. But what happened on November 07, 1991, - well most of us remember when we were when we heard this - just like knowing where we were when the OJ Verdict and the Rodney King Verdicts, when we heard about the Aaliyah, and when we heard about Tupac Being Shot.

It was Ervin "Magic" Johnson, basketball player extraordinary, face of the Lakers, personality to die for (pun intended), one who adored the ladies and won the admiration of men - it was this Magic Johnson that stunned, paralyzed, and sent shock waves that reverberated through out the world as he announced that he was retiring after testing positive for the "HIV" virus.

We were all stunned. Not stunned in the since that we didn't know how he contracted it, but stunned in the since of:

- Oh, so you CAN get this by heterosexual contact, and not just homosexual relations, dirty IV's, and blood transfusions?

- This is a man, a black man, a strong black man, who got it. Just from being a FREAK

- He's going to DIE. He won't make it to see the hall of fame.

And any other combination thereof.

It made the men of this world take stock - of what they had been doing - who they were doing it TO, and when. It made women's minds race, wondering how much that third drink 'really' may have cost them. The sale of prophylactics skyrocketed; everyone was playing it safe and keeping their noses clean.

Ah the good old days. Are we back in the nosebleed section, now?

With a resurgence increase in sexuality, (both teens and adults alike), and the hedonistic attitudes that pervade our culture, I believe that the message has been lost regarding abstinence, safe sex, or any other practice that is deemed appropriate for your respective lifestyle. It is difficult enough to swallow (no pun intended) the fact that many teens don't consider oral sex 'sex'. Now whether they got that message from Bill's spiel on his relationship with Monica Lewinsky is another story; the fact is, it is so. It is equally difficult to know that there are now more people trapped in the closet than an R. Kelly Video.

This is no gender blaming incident - we are all responsible for our behaviors and actions. Nor is this particularly the forum to discuss whether or not people are 'going to do it anyway', even though you are open to discuss anything you wish. The bigger, prevalent issue that I see here, is that so many people get 'caught up' in what they doing, indicating "Well, it only happened once", or "I've been with them for so long", that there is an ongoing game of Russian Roulette playing, and that the bullet has pieced many who have sung that mantra, and more often than, not, it was that time that "It only happened once".

Most of what we see now endorse sexuality. Videos. . .Songs. . .and everything in between. 16 year old Keisha Castle Hughes, the sister in whale rider, is expecting a baby with her boyfriend of three years. We can go on and on with that but I don't want to overlap messages.

I want to turn it over to you. . .

Do you think that both adults and children have returned to the days of old, being careless and reckless in their sexual escapades?

November Old Skool Joint

Unbreakable

"Cuz he ain't no different from you and she ain't no different from me, so we got to live out our dreams, like the people on tv. . ." - Alicia Keys, Unbreakable.

I am a sucker for romance, and the warm fuzzies associated with it. Not in the chick flick kind of way - more on an inspirational sense. In a state where relationships are threatened on a daily basis, and the measuring standard of love, for both men and women, is based on immediate feelings, and NOT the long haul, it is always refreshing to see a couple, older or younger, obviously together for a long time, holding hands, or looking at each other with the familiarity of one who can do that as a result of a long term relationship.

Now, with that out the way, I am going to give you who I think are some of my all time bomb ass couples that I enjoyed watching their relationships grow and develop. Yes, I know they are fictional, play along with me here. . . But I also know that life imitates art. . .

Sam and Mollie - Ghost

This couple impacted me in many ways. It had only been a while since I had lost one of my very best friends in an auto accident, and the whole theme around this movie fascinated me. But the feelings associated with someone that you have a strong connection to, such as these two, are REAL - whether the person has left the earth or not - this is something I also understood. A tearjerker, and a couple who love had no limits. Not even death. :)

Claudine and "Ru" - Claudine

Any-buddy who has seen this movie knows that this is a 'Man's Man' and Claudine is a 'Ride of Die' chick, even before that term came out. This love was sustained through poverty, the gub-ment trying to keep them down, children, and other influences. In 1972, it was hard enough, surely, for a black couple trying to sustain, but they did it, and made it, as Alicia Keys said, through the technical difficulties. One of my all time favorite couples, bar none.

Forrest and Jenny - Forrest Gump

Love is simple. It really is. People make it complicated. We really do. But Forrest didn't. Forrest's love for Jenny was so pure, it was almost painful to watch. He loved her through and through, regardless of her actions and activities (which, eventually cost her her life), and, that, is what made her come back to him (and probably because she had nowhere else to go!) But anyway, I believe that her authenticity in loving him was true, too, and was one of the reasons why she was running for so long.

Jason and Lyric - Jason's Lyric

Ride or Die at it's finest. You could feel the love throughout this movie. And when she was shot at the end, I felt like I held my breath through the entire scene. The love that these two shared was deep, true, sensual, and real. It made both of them grow and trust, and breakaway. And that's why it should do.

Flo and James - Good Times

Sure, sometimes James yelled too much, and sometimes Flo was a little over the top with her emotional antics, but the fit together. Both of them adored each other and their kids, and until CBS television studios decided to act as if a buffonnish character was more important than a father figure, this relationship worked out quite nicely.

The Supercouples: Luke and Laura Spencer (General Hospital), Cruz and Eden Castillo (Santa Barbara), and Nikki and Victor Newman (Y & R)

Being the latch key teenage child that I was, I was totally into Soap Operas back in the day and back in the day, Supercouples were what was hot on the streets.

Luke and Laura: I never watched GH, but I knew for dayum sure who they were. I was kind of creeped out when I found out he raped her, and then they ended up together, but I had to include them on GP because one, there was a song that was made after them, and two, EVERYBODY knows who Luke and Laura are.

Cruz and Eden: My personal favorites. I was a HUGE Santa Barbara fan back in my ABC Afterschool Special Tween years, and the relationship between these two (Played by Marcy Walker and A Martinez) was indeed special. There is a Santa Barbara web site dedicated to fans of the show, and the Cruz and Eden characters readily admit, that, although they never dated, they believed that they were real life soulmates, and that's how come their chemistry was so well on the scene.

Victor and Nikki: The song "I'm in love with a Stripper" would fit in quite nicely here. I havent' watched soaps in over a decade, but I know these mofos are still smelling up on each other - even after divorces, affairs, children, and anything else in between that fills in the soap opera drama gap. When I'm in the grocery store, and I see the magazines at the front counter they are still plastered on the front. . Hell, Victor and Nikki are like Luke and Laura for the CBS soap watchers.

So, who are your "Unbreakable Couples?" Are any of yours on THIS list?

Random Thoughts Monday

I couldn't sleep , so after I stayed up until four am to watch the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, I turned off EVERYTHING, and started thinking about rambling thoughts. And then I turned the computer back on. I'm giving this to you, straight with no chaser, so without further adieu, here are my random thoughts:

• Wendy Williams talks too much. She HAS to know that.
• There is always one girl that always wins all the fucken games at the bridal/baby shower. What she doesn't realize is that we don't really care that she won.
• Hotmail's email program sucks eggs.
• I love Spinach. But I won't be buying that bitch no.time.soon!!
• Boost and Nextel suck when people are noisily using their two way in grocery stores, restaurants, etc.
• P Diddy gets on my nerves. I don't know why.
• How come your jam comes on the radio right before you get out the car? And pre-ipod/download, didn't you drive around in your car until the song went off?
• Who initiates the electric slide at weddings? And how does it end?
• Dateline's "To Catch A Predator" is must-see-tv.
• It's fun getting text messages.
• Who is Deelishus' baby daddy?
• If Obama runs for president, I am going to vote for him on GP
• Speaking of presidents, why do we call former president Clinton "Bill", like we are on a first name basis with him?
  Does anybody remember Aspen soda?
• Little children these days are the most no-going-outside mofos I've ever seen in my life!!
• Is ICQ still around? If so, does anybody still use it?
• I always seem to get behind the person at the ATM with multiple transactions and/or appears to have never used the machine before.
• Remember how cool you thought you were if you have the words to Roxanne, Roxanne?
  What happened to Freaknik?
• AND En Vogue? (Tam or Glam I am sure have some sort of answer to this).
• What exactly does Mr. Star Jones DO for a living?
• Remember the 'mini black power' movement of the late 80's, early 90's (african medallions, final call papers, etc)?
• Why are the workers at the DMV so grouchy?
• Remember when Video Vibrations on BET showed Lovergirl by Teena Marie every.dayum.day?
• Where's the AIDS quilt?
• Remember when erry-boddy was talking about the Robin Givens/Mike Tyson Interview: "He shakes, he pushes, he shoves. . ." LOL!!
• How come when you think you looking hella good you get no play and then people are trying to run you down when you look like hell in a handbasket?
• Does anybody think that Beyonce and Jay-Z's relationship closely mirrors the pimp/whore relationship?

Any concurrence? What are YOUR random thoughts?

Operation Negro Search

Usually I leave topics like this to the expert, but I am curious as to the status of many people, cause celebres in thier own right.

There were those we had high expectations of SuperStar status, those that were fresh new faces, what was cool and what was hot. And then there were the elite that catapulted to iconic status during their tenure in a Jet Magazine/Ebony/Essence fueled era.

Narrow is NOT the gate. Wide is the gate to the many who have been ushered into our lives with great expectation, either as a "breakout" star, or "one to watch".

Here are some of my choices:

After groundbreaking roles in the movie "Angel Dust", and his smoother than performance as Ricardo Tubbs in the critically acclaimed Miami Vice, Philip Michael Thomas was, indeed, our black man walking. With the coolest apparel to boot, coupled with a foray into the music would with his memorable album "Living the Book of My Life", he has a multitude of talents, including his support of the "Psychic Friends Network". With this litany of talent, our community needs you, Philip. Where you is?

First introduced to us as the woman with the lustrous Jheri (or was is an "S" Curl) in the commercials that captured out heart and souls, Ola Ray catapulted to tight blue jean status with her co-starring role as the burgundy lip gloss infused date of Michael Jackson in the international smash video, "Thriller". We expected big thangs, big thangs, from a woman with equally big hair. Where did she run off to?

This brothers descent into virtual oblivion is disturbing on so many levels it is impossible to list. You wonder why this picture is so small. Glad you asked. I can't FIND any pictures of Christopher Williams online right now other than small scale ones like this. Now Christopher Williams - he was ONE for the books. One of those universally fine brothers where even if you didn't like 'that' kind of brother, you thought that mutha fucka was phoine. With a beautiful voice to boot. By the time he was in New Jack City, I was officially hooked. Sidebar: It is true he used to weigh alot and lost weight as soon as he got out, has a baby by Stacey Dash, and is the one that knocked Halle Berry into next week. Please advise.

We saw her as the ghettofabulous woman with a heart of Gold in "Jason's Lyric" the woman who was the confidant and friend of Nia Long's character in "Love Jones", the woman who hypnotized and seduced both Denzel and Samuel L. Jackson in "Devil in a Blue Dress" and "Eve's Bayou", respectively. She is the crazy, sexy, cool homey, lover, friend. However, based on reports of her mental status, she seems to be relishing in the crazy status more than anything at this point. Honeychild, I don't know where you are and what you are looking for; hopefully it's your mind because I heard you lost it a long time ago; come back to us soon.

Although most of us couldn't get past the fact that his lips screamed and yearned for chap stick on the regular, we were all delighted at the prescence of a strong black man on television; one who exuded equal confidence, vulnerability, strength and weakness all in the form of a one hour period, Thursday Nights on Fox. He could get to be a bit much to look at if he wasn't edged up with his hair, but ultimately, we enjoyed his prescence, and a good time was had by all in the short span of the love affair we called "New York Undercover".

Now it's time to turn it over to y'all:

Who would you like to include in the Operation Negro Search?

October Old Skool Joint

What, Nucca, What!

From the Cradle To The Grave

Congratulations, you have a healthy baby boy!

The Y chomosome. The determining factor as to whether or not you are bringing a female (XX) or a male (XY) species into the world.

In Nathan McCall's book, Makes Me Wanna Holler, he talks about the very moment his girlfriend gave birth to a son. Where there should have been joy, he felt grief. He felt burdened, and he felt the burdens of his son.

As he should. As professional and educated as men of color are, they are still subjected to violence.

Generally speaking, the element and stench of concern that is passed down is usually generated towards the female population, no doubt in warning of a sexual attack. Often times, you don't see women walking down the street at night, or driving with their doors unlocked, or anything that would provoke random acts of violence.

But our boys do.

My criminal justice professor told me, actually, that ALL men are subjected more to a violent crime than women. Criminals don't look for gender; they look for opportunities. More often than not, crimes are NOT random. However, the journalistic sensation that causes all of us to look a little harder at the ATM, double bolt our locks at the hiss of the wind, and decide to finally take that self defense course is aimed at the rational - and irrational fears, that violent crimes - sensationalized, depicted, and lusted after by the media - portrays.

In two years time, I have known or heard of at least five black men, killed over an argument gone awry, too much liquor, a hit and run, or anything in between.

• My hairdressers brother was at a party and was murdered while someone was shooting as someone else.
• My friend's nephew was murdered over cross words to someone else.
• A guy I went to high school with and his girlfriend were killed by her ex boyfriend.

And so on and so on.

I say all this to say, that violence pervades our culture. And for those that say education is the key, I beg to differ. Sure, life is a choice. And there are those that grew up less fortunate that have paved a way for theirselves, as well as those that grew up silver spooned and turned out to be hot messes. However, we are a more educated culture then we ever have been, yet the things that invade our homes via the evening news and/or cnn.com that cause all of us shock and dismay have accelerated over the past few decades. That sounds like a moral fabric issue more than an educated issue, but that's another subject.

My intent is not to switch reels, so I won't. My concern, however, are what is happening to our men, our co leaders in this world, in a place where changing a tire can cost them their life. We add layers to it when there are socio economic factors involved. Where a choice that one makes is predicated on finances and emotional conditions. Trust me when I tell you that I am one for personal responsbility, but I often know that the role of a parent is one of encouragement, and if you can't get over that first hurdle, sometimes, the tangled web that you weave, cannot be unraveled.

I heart for our black men. I heart for all of our boys. I want them to succeed. I want them to lead. I want them to love, and I want them to live.

What do You See In The Future of Our Young Black Men?

This is dedicated to all of our menfolk: The strong, the powerful, the invincible, the loving, the babymakers, the comforters, the keepers, the spirtual guiders, the ones that make us laugh (and cry), the ones that throw down, the ones that say 'baby' and make us melt, AND to the ones that we have loved and lost - to the streets, and to the grave.

Recharging the Battery

Things were starting to get a little stressful at the Corporate Slave Ship. . .

BUT LOOK, I ESCAPED, Y'ALL!!

I am back in a Little Over a Week, yo. . . Enjoy this and the previous posts. . .Portate Bien!!

Fade to Black

You would think that I wouldn't have to talk about this. . .

Is there still a pervasive, subconcious attitude that exists regarding skin complextion, hair textures, and the like? Are these projections introduced in early childhood development, and then ultimately cemented in our adolescent stages?

Have both our darker and lighter halves suffered the consequences of the skin they are in, either made to believe that one or the other is superior, subject to each's interpretation of beauty? Or even worse, have they been washed in the skin cycle of being ashamed of their lighter/darker persuasions to the point where it affect all that is around them, up to and including choosing a mate to, shall we say, even things out a bit? Are hair textures (AKA "Good Hair") still secretly envied and desired or straight lusted after?

That which might solidify our classic model of what is idenfitied as beautiful. Are there built in sterotypes that wreak havoc in our lives from day one. I remember one time a friend and I did an experiment (early nineties, y'all), and we noticed that in many of the videos, that they would show the asses of the darker girls, and the faces of the lighter ones. . .Whether or not this has changed significantly from those days, I couldn't tell you.

In this Post Imitation of Life phase of our culture, what do we expect when it comes to beauty. Certainly, during the early part of the 20th century, passing became a phenomenon that was partially survival, partial choice. Carol Channing has recently admitted her paternal black parentage. . . It is even rumored that Dinah Shore has black parentage, that which she never confirmed NOR denied. (If you haven't seen the A & E biography on her, treat yourself).

Sure, we are all aware that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but what are the specific criterias associated with it, and how many people (excluding these intelligent readers, of course) use improper measurement criterias? We can't act as if it never happened, and, with that said:

BUT

Would India Arie, both artist and Musician, be as popular as Alicia Keys, be MORE popular and/or lavished with more mainstream acclaim (mainstream) if they she had 'it'?

Would Beyonce, Alicia Keys, et. al, be the toast of the town if they weren't?

But the inverse had happened with our brothers. . .Would so many of our lighter leading men (Giancarlo Esposito, Mel Jackson) had more 'urban' appeal if their skin textures were more of the Denzel, Wesley, Don Cheadle Flavor?

There are SO MANY schools of thought. There is a difference between having an authentic preference for things, versus having discriminatory tastes (whether it's for the darker or lighter persuasion).

Some examples:

There is a brother that I used to date, he was growing up during the era where light skin-ded green eyed Reggie Theus, Phillip Micheal Thomas brothers were the ones (subject to interpretation) that were bringing sexy back. He is VERY attractive, darker complexioned man; however, teenage women wouldn't give him the time of day. He, in turned, himself began to prefer the lighter persuasion as a way to prove himself 'worthy', if I may, to the less melanin enhanced population.

On the flip side, I have a friend who has the classic 'light skin, brown curly hair' who has, over the course of her entire lifetime, attempted to make up for that, by sitting in the sun as a child, choosing darker men to date (and marry), because she never enjoyed valued the skin she was in.

I also have a friend that goes ballistic when someone compliments someone from the lighter persuasion, and she goes into Drill Seargeant Mode, asking why they said that, and she always alludes to someone saying that only because that person was light. She also goes out of her way to talk about how everyone loves her complexion. (Which, I think, is TMI).

Fortunately, I was able to escape the madness of the time. I fit somewhere in the 'middle', for lack of a better word.

The picture above is of Carol Channing.

But, back to the lecture at hand. . . Are we still perpetuating these types of ideologies in early adulthood, either with melanin issues or hair? Does it matter? Do you see it? Or am I imagining it? Have we grown out of this, or have we stunted our growth, only perpetuating it in other ways?

Visions of Feathers and Jheri Curls Dancing in My Head

One More Knight. Aptly titled, this was equally the name of our school mascot (Knights), as well as our Phil Collins inspired song, that allowed us into our first foray into the Black Tie world of a Formal - Prom Night.

My prom was equally fun, and bizarre. For starters, I had three guys ask me. The first one, I wasn't sure if he was planning on getting his Jheri curl redone for the festivities, nor did I have the heart to ask him. The second one, he wasn't tall enough (I was 5'10" at the time), and would have towered over him with my pumps. The third one, well, let's just say I wasn't sure if I would even make it to the prom. He was what we called, at least, on the West Coast, a slanging brother, someone who was too slick for his own good and me being virgin-AL personality, I declined him with a quickness.

I decided to ride solo. I have always been a relative loner; what difference did it make when it came to my prom. So, my friend Gretchen (who was going with a good friend) decided to roll together. I had also chosen an unconventional color - black.

Black, you say? Why, P, what's the problem with black?

Glad you asked. In the decade that I graduated in, what was hot on the streets was pink and peach pastels. With obsence looking fishtails, outrageous puffy sleeves, and equally disturbing hairstyles. Accompanied by airbrushed nails and satin shoes to boot, we were indeed, a sight for sore eyes. My mother kept asking me was I sure this was what I wanted; to which I said. . .YES.

Making a long story short, I showed up at the prom solo (after arriving of course, with Gretchen and her dude), and I (along with the dress) was a HIT. Let me tell you this; everyone looked FANTASTIC - I just think that people were more surprised at the COLOR more than anything. But the dress WAS nice; One sleeve, satin, slit in the back, rhinestones (sounds cheezy but wasn't at the time) Seven (count 'em) SEVEN guys came up to me telling me they wanted to ask me out, but they thought I had a college boyfriend; they indicated they would be happy to pose with me, to which I promptly declined. I took my picture before my Fashion Fair/Flori Roberts inspired makeup wore off, and my feather started to droop.

The night went smoothly; Update on the brothers who asked me:

1. Jheri curl did, indeed, get his hair done for the festivities, and looked great with his little Emerald green vest on. So did his date.

2. Napoleon Complex looked equally dazzling with his Tux. And his date had on Electric Blue with some Satin Pumps.

But the piece de resistance came from the #3 Dates - the slanger, the baller. THIS MUTHA FUCKA asked another girl at our school to go to the prom - AND BROUGHT ANOTHER GIRL FROM ANOTHER SCHOOL AND LEFT THE OTHER ONE STRANDED AT HOME. . .

Everyone was pissed - Both female AND Male (after the guys stopped drooling over the light skin long hair foolishness). His other date eventually showed up and was let in, and it was on and cracking then. Let's just say that him AND his date had to be escorted out of the prom, eventually. Me, being me, I was loving every minute of it (except for the fact that he left her stranded - that wasn't cool). I was also equally horrified over the fact that he very well could have done that TO ME!! In a later conversation, he swore he wouldn't have, but in the words of my R & B brother Ginuine, what makes ME different?

As the night started to wind down, I began looking for Gretchen and her little friend.

No dice.

Means nothing. Who really sits down at the prom? You're so busy dancing and doing everything else, one of which figuring out what's crackin tomorrow, that it was no big deal.

Gretchen. . .Gretchen. . .(by the way, YES, that was her name) 

Well, I might as well had been looking for the holy grail because Gretchen and her friend bailed out and left me stranded at Lynwood (up to no good) High School's Junior/Senior Prom at the Los Angeles Marriott.



So, anyway, after I STOPPED feeling like that, I managed to make my way to the phone booth (pre-cell phone dayz, y'all), and called my mother, who had to come pick me up, in her sponge rollers, in her 1980's Narc Inspired Chevy Cavalier, and take me home.

Gretchen was equally clowned at school after the word was spread (wonder who did that). She claimed that she believed that she couldn't find me, one, and two, she thought I would get home with someone else. Well, one, it's not hard to find a woman, six one in heels, with a black dress on with a feathered hair style, and two, EXACTLY WHO WAS I SUPPOSED TO RIDE HOME WITH??

Yet, the prom was indeed a pleasant experience, and a good time had by all.

**AFTERWORD**

I didn't speak to Gretchen for the next ten years. It wasn't like a grudge, but after that incident we stopped speaking in high school, and then we graduated, and just lost contact. I saw her at a mixer later on, and we talked but not much else came from our relationship.

Remember dude who left the chick stranded at home while he took light skin-ded girl to the prom, and his other date came up there hoo-banging? Here are their own updates:

Light Skin and her REAL dude came into the clothing store that I worked in a few weeks, later. Me, being, me, kept staring at her trying to figure out where I saw her. I finally blurted out (in front of her man) that, by the way, did-ent she go to Lynwood (up to no good) prom? She looked at me, her eyes pleading for me to shut the phuck up.

Why she do that? It was on, now. Her man was looking at her like WTF? So, once again, me being the 17 year old I was, proceeded to describe her dress and all, to which her boyfriend, at that point, was furious. He led (read: pulled) her out of the store.

As for the guy who left the chick stranded AND Miss Stranded herself: They have been married for over ten years, with three kids.

So now, I turn it over to you, the readers: What WAS your prom experience like? Did you GO? Why or Why Not? Any interesting events occur before (or after?)

From Every Mountainside, Let Freedom Ring. . .

WE REMEMBER. . .

September Old Skool Joint

Don't ACT like This song wasn't the CUT!!!!

Now Usually I Don't Do This, But Um. . .

That's how it always starts. (Or some variation thereof)

You're on the phone with someone. Often times someone dependable and reliable. Or has been in your recent past. And they want to let you 'in' on something. Something that 'the man' doesn't want you to know about. And you start to listen, with equal hope and dread. The hope that somehow, someway, this is NOT leading down the road you expect it to. And the dread that in your gut, you know that 'tis. So you just wait for the closer, the climax, the piece de resistance, the entrance of the 'big deal'.

"I want you to come to a meeting with me"
"What kind of meeting?"
"I mean, it's hard to explain, you just have to be there. Plus the VP is going to make a special appearance".
"But WHAT is it? Where is it?"
"At the Marriott in Long Beach. I'll come pick you up"
"What kind of meeting is it?"
"It's a business opportunity. You do want to make money, don't you? I thought about you when I went to the meeting, I said, 'Who would be SMART enough to take advantage of something like this?"

Somewhere in the middle of that, the person that is conversing (read: holding you hostage), is tugging at your heartstring/ego, but so far, no DICE.

- "You're a smart woman, P, I thought you would want to know about this"
- "When you have kids/get married, don't you want the flexibility to do things?"

The script is the same, but the cast of characters change.

Sound familiar? Maybe you didn't go to that meeting, but the variation of the meeting/selling point lurks in your mind. I know it does. There is always some bankruptcy, sob story of a guy that wanted to get out of the grind and show his son how to ride bikes, OR some chick who tugs on the heartstings of the mother's in the audience, OR a guy who tells you how much property/money/cash flow he has every month and that he is really busy but that he HAD to stop in and talk to US, but he has to be on his way, now. He fails to mention that they want to get you started on some 'starter kit' for the low, low price of 299.00, and of course, that's really a steal if in fact the 'kit' will pay you back in no time, and you're become a member of the gold, platinum, titanium, etc. VP club and by the way can we take a postdated check from you?

As previously stated, Even though you are NOW immune to the meetings that can either be overly spectacular or creepily clandestine, at some point in your life, some trickery occured where you either (a) showed up at one of the meetings, only to realize that it was THAT kind of meeting, or (b) you were tortured by your neighbor, hairdresser, co-worker, friend (that you haven't heard from in three months) to sell or be interesting in buying:

- Long Distance
- Amway
- Herbalife, Noni Juice, et al.
- World's Greatest Vitamin
- Internet Mall

AND
- To a DEGREE: Cookie Lee, Primerica, Mary Kay.

Sidebar: Every woman in the US of A has either bought a Mary Kay product at some time in her life, went to a Mary Kay makeup party, or was stalked over the phone by a Mary Kay consultant.

Anyway, back to the lecture at hand. The biggest problem with Network Marketing is not the marketing concept per se. But those same things that make it attractive are the very things that those who have never managed any level of business, big, or small, are not prepared to invest their time in. Usually, for the most part, there are exceptions to the rule; however, exceptions PROVE the rule.

According to Scott Allen, author of "The Real Problem With Network Marketing"

Most of these folks (Can be one or more of the below)

• have not done well in their business or profession and have little money saved up to invest
• have no previous experience owning or running a business
• have no previous experience in sales
• have little or no experience developing business relationships other than that of employer/employee/co-worker
• are not satisfied with their current level of income
• have unrealistic expectations of the amount of work involved compared to the revenue realized.

Again, there are exceptions to the rule; but the exceptions PROVE THE RULE.

So friends and family, please don't call my cell phone number so that I can review some antiquated flyer of yours, or you can email me a link to your internet mall to get toilet paper that I can buy at target, or tell me about the weight loss shake that worked for you (not to mention you are now working out three days a week). I'll pass.

And no, I don't want to buy the World's Greatest Vitamin.

What has been your experience(s) with folks interested in Network Marketing and/or the first (and probably only) time you were duped into a meeting?

(Still) One In a Million - Five Years Later

Aaliyah Dana Haughton January 16, 1979 – August 25, 2001

It took me MONTHS to watch this one in it's entirety: Still evokes a degree of sadness.



This one, I like because she is a straight RYDA in this one!!



The Song that Made Me Love Her. . .



And this song that sounds DAYUM good in a car with some sounds!!



Official Aaliyah Website

What is (are) Your Favorite Aaliyah's songs?

Trapped in the Closet Chronicles

My first experience with this was with SupaStar Nic. Boy, after I finished reading THIS POST, I was floored with all of the information that was anonymously posted. I'm sure MOST of her regular readers abstained. . .Right. RIGHT!

Then Sangin Diva brought it to the table. The information that was revealed on THIS POST was equally salacious. Man, I couldn't believe some of the information that was submitted. Mind, you, surely her regular readers ALSO probably missed these postings and refrained from commenting, right. . .RIGHT!

So with that said, tell me your secrets. Get those bones out the closet, you know they're trying to break free. Don't be left trapped in the closet.

I would guess that MOST of MY regular readers ALSO will not be responding to this post, just some random ANONYMOUS folks, right? RIGHT. Other than the resident "I don't have anything trapped in MY closet TAM.I.AM interjection of the salacious-ness of everything, I would expect a full on expose of what's burning deep within your psyche.

Sshhhh! We won't tell.

Of course, all posts are anonymous (Unless you want us to know who you are).

Readers: What's been Trapped

in YOUR closet?

Family Ties - or the Ties That Bind?

What would we do baby, without Us? And there ain’t no nothing we can’t love each other through. What would we do baby, without Us? Sha la la la.

- Theme from "Family Ties" -

Family - The connotation of it. Iconic, loving, everlasting. Generations both young and old, coming together. Blended heritages meeting at the middle. Births. Deaths. Marriages. Divorce. Remarriage. Losing and gaining is a daily occurrence in extended and immediate families. Fragmented. Dysfunctional. Flawed. Fabricated. The strength of a family can go a long way. Innumerable movies about the power of a family (Soul Food, Crooklyn, Claudine, Steel Magnolias) are what bring us warm fuzzies. As they should.

But there are ALSO family structures that are intrusive, overbearing, overprotective, and smothering. Those structures are equally dysfunctional, (generational) and are downright nosey. Not nosey in the concerned perspective, but in a way where it's intrusive to the immediate 'nucleus' family.

I know people that have families that are extremely close. They go on vacations together, shopping together, and anything in between. They sincerely care for each other and would rather be in the company of their family more than anyone else.

Then there's the two opposite ends of the spectrum.

The family that doesn't give, but pulls. The begging, complaining, never getting anywhere family. A history of violence, abuse (verbal, physical, sexual), where folks either flee and have NOTHING to do with them, or continue the cycle.

AND/OR

The family that is way too close for comfort. The ones that get in your business like NOBODY's business. The family the pries, pokes, and interferes at a moment's whim. The daddy's girl, mama's boy, nosey sister, overprotective brother, bossy auntie, rich uncle, and 'just like my sister' cousin who can't seem to stay out of the affairs even upon request.

OR any combination thereof.

I've seen all of these. And my family is one of them.

Before We delve into our topic, I must say this however; A family is NOT just the bloodline. Ever. There are those who touch your life and are in your life that have moved and touched your lives more than any bloodline ever could or would. Particularly if you come from a fragmented family; these are your family and you should treat them as such. Also, there is an element of dysfunction in all families. No family is perfect; that's not the directive of this piece.

With that said, we will turn it over to the readers:

Do you think there is a such thing as "Too Close" OR "Not Close Enough". Is your family "Love Filled" or "Drama Filled?" Any friends with families like the aforementioned?

Don't Shit Where You Eat(?)

This is the running mantra for office romances. Don't Shit Where You Eat. Corporate Executives and Secretaries be dayumed, office romances have taken that concept and shot it into a time capsules. Workplace Romances, as they are called, have eclipsed into a totally different concept these days.

HOWEVER. . .

Most of the time when you are in a location where you are spending the majority of time with a group of individuals. Sparks will fly; attractions run amok. There are innumerable relationships that have started by hooking up from movies (Brangelina, Cruise/Kidman, I could go on an on). Late Night Meetings, traveling, Working Together on Projects that are either extremely stressful or equally rewarding, can trigger feelings, that, acted upon, turn into a steamy, passionate fling.

How many of us have seen, heard, and smelled the stench of an office/job romance from a mile away. Everytime you turn around these folks are either in each other's faces too much, or act like they don't know each other at all (a dead giveaway). They appear to be engrossed in work, but are indulging in Instant, Text, and Email Messaging, that becomes increasingly more passionate.

In the interest of fairness, I believe that many powerful relationships between John and Jane Doe progress to serious commitments up to and including marriage as a result of meeting on the job.

HOWEVER

Dr. Shirley Glass, author of Not “Just Friends” states "The new infidelity is between people who unwittingly form deep, passionate connections before realizing that they’ve crossed the line from platonic friendship into romantic love. From an infidelity standpoint, Shirley Glass discovered in her practice that 50 percent of the unfaithful women and about 62 percent of unfaithful men she treated were involved with someone from work who was "Just a Friend" at first. And it happens to the best of them. Even those that help us fly the friendly skies. But It's NOT just physical affairs. Often times emotional adutery causes the most appeal, attraction, affection, and connections. That is extremely powerful (least that's what somebody told me).

BUT

How many of those relationships are the exception, rather than the rule. Are there more successes than failures? More makings for Reality TV? More Fairy Tales than Kissing Frogs? More room for Liars - (er, I mean LAWYERS), to get their hands on something that Georgie Porgy did to kiss the girl(s) (OR BOY) and make her cry? Does it produce a blossoming working environment, or does it call Psycho Betty to come out ot the closet?

Now it's time to turn it over to the readers:

How do you feel about office dalliances?

Have you done them? Seen them? Any horror stories?

August Old Skool Joint

What Y'all Know Bout This?!

Three Years Probation and a $100.00 Dollar Fine

And I know you're shining down on me from heaven
Like so many friends we've lost along the way
And I know eventually we'll be together
Together One sweet day
Eventually I'll see you in heaven
(One Sweet Day - Mariah Carey y Boyz II Men)

May 21, 1990, 6:30 A.M.

((RIIINGG)) - P picks up the phone "Hello"

"P"

"What's wrong?"

"I just called to tell you. . .I just called because. . "

I braced myself. Adrianne's grandmother had been in the hospital for quite some time. She wasn't expected to live. Her and her cousin, my best friend Lynn, had been going back and forth to the hospital to see her. So I closed my eyes, waiting to give the spiel sympathetic speech regarding her grandmother.

Adrainne starts crying.

"Adrianne, what happened"

"I just wanted to let you know that Lynn passed away last night".

Okay, now I know her grandmother's name is Hessie. She didn't say Lynn. She meant Hessie, right, RIGHT! She's upset. That should be expected.

Silence.

More Silence from me.

"Lynn was on her way to go see our grandmother, and someone broadsided her, she died instantly."

"Lynn had to work yesterday, what are you talking about, Adrianne?"

"She got off of work early because my granny wasn't expected to live".

Adrianne Starts crying again.

Silence. More silence.

"P, are you okay?"

"Yes. Thank you for calling".

I put the phone on the hook and laid back down. I had a little more time before I had to go to school. My mother came in my room and looked at me. She was getting dressed for work.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Yes".

She looked at me some more with a heavy look of uncertainty.

I laid back down. Right before my mother left the house, she asked me was I okay again, and I told her I was fine. I decided to go into the living room. I carried the phone with me (this was pre-cordless phone days and when you had the 100 mile cord in your house), because I didn't want to miss Lynn's call when she called me. Maybe I SHOULD have went to the movies with her on Friday, May 18th. We were talking about Sammy Davis Jr, recent passing, and she mentioned that she wanted to go see Three Men and a Little Lady. I opted out, because I just didn't feel like going. Anyway, I'll wait for her call.

My mother looked in at me with a peculiar expression. Wondered why at 6:45 am I was in the living room holding the phone in my lap.

"Are you SURE you are okay, P?".

"Yes."

I looked at the phone. Maybe I should call. WHY WON'T THE FUCKING PHONE RING?!?!

My mother left. The door made a loud slamming noise when she closed it.

Then the floodgates opened.

I cried, and then I cried louder, and then I started screaming. I dropped the phone and I subsequently went to my knees. WHAT DID ADRIANNE TELL ME? The only friend that NEVER judged me, who understood me, who told me she felt more comfortable in our two bedroom apartment then she did in her big a$$ house? The one whose mother died when she was eight?

Oh GOD! Where was Jazz, her daughter? Was she in the car?? Who told Nathan, her fiance and the father of her child?

I ran to the bathroom to throw up. Nothing came out. I picked up the phone. But who was I going to call.

Wake, up, P, wake up. This is NOT happening.

But it did happen. On Sunday, May 20th, at approximately three PM, Lynn was going eastbound Los Angeles. In the meantime, Julio X had hit a woman on the freeway and was trying to get away from her. She chased him in her car off the freeway and through the streets. Trying to get away from Kim X, Julio runs a redlight travelling Southbound and slams right into her. We had to delay her funeral because an autopsy was conducted to determine the exact cause of death. They wanted to know whether or not she died from a broken neck or her chest being crushed, considering they happened simultaneously.

Jazz was not in the car. But Jazz was in the house when Nathan was notified, who, was so distraught, he was given a valium - that was AFTER he broke every window in his house. I went to school that day. I don't know why. On the way to school (I rode with a friend), we went down 120th street - and we got to 120th Street and Broadway, there were glass shards and all kinds of debris on the street. I told my girlfriend "That's where the accident happened." No one told me where it happened. But I knew.

Funeral and other things notwithstanding, this was a pivotal event in my life. It was significant in that I could remember everything being surreal, yet remember every single incident, yet not remembering a thing. But what I do remember is. . . The verdict.

Three years probation and a hundred dollar fine. And subsequently, I went into X-Chromosome Factor Mode. Although, one month after that, I saw "Ghost", and I KNEW that she was with me, and I would see her again, One Sweet Day. To this day, there are songs, that I absolutely love/mourn when I think of her. . .

"Home" by THIS blogger's favorite singer, Stephanie Mills. - That was HER favorite song.
"Spread My Wings" - Troop/They played this at her Funeral.
"Old Friend", Phyllis Hyman - She LOVED this song and would sing it all the time.

PS: Yes, the accident DID happen on 120th and Broadway.

So now, readers, I turn it over to you. . .

What events (divorce, death, birth, foreclosures, fights, religious transformations) have influenced YOUR Lives? Things that have sent you barreling (good or bad) in another direction? Any songs that remind you of particular events.

This is How We Roll(ed)

Remember when cars were more than cars back in the day? They were status symbols. Even more than they are now. Sure, we get all of the Attention Deficit Disorder inspired children who look at cars that the current top 40 Hip Hop Artist has in their 'Cribs' inspired garages, but most of that is in excess, and even in the most Generation Y hype, they even know that.

But ah, back in the day, the place where we partaked in indulgence to the nth degree, complete with turkish necklaces, burgundy and blue black cellophanes, daytons and inky rims, feathered hair, jheri, california, and s-curl inspired looks, when we looked out in the world through our 'EK' and Laura "Ba-Gotti" sunglasses, we were often escorted (via friend, lover, or somebody's else's ride), we was rolling in somebody's borrowed, owned, or soon to be reposessed vehicle. Here are some of the more memorable cars from back in the day.


Chevy Beretta HAHA! What y'all know bout this bitch, yo. Man, my friend's boyfriend had a white one with Daytons on it. We were equally star struck as well as terrified to ride in it, considering that people were getting killed over those rims back in the day. But he would pick her up in front of the school, IN FRONT of everybody, and boyyyee!! The looks she would get. AND he had a pullout!


IROC - Z: Sheeot! That was IT, and that was ALL! I was a senior in high school and this guy that used to dig me, his name was Darnell (how played out is THAT name), offered to take me to and from work for a minute. He had THIS car with T-TOPS. When he took me to work, playing Keith Sweat in the car, you couldn't tell me a mutha fucken thang. I had a blue black cellophane, Magenta Mist lipstick from Fashion Fair, and Curved nails, with charms on them to boot, accentuated with Garnet Red nail polish. AND HE had a California Curl. I was his freak that he could show off. I think he was slanging. See below for the other car he had.



The Mini Blazer - That was the other car he had. This fool was rolling. It was blue with all kinds of what is now know as Pimp My Ride graphics on it. It was lowered with rims on that as well. He lived in Compton in cuz territory , so it was blue. I often wondered how he was able to take the IROC out for a spin and not worry about being harassed by the crips, (y'all this was some SERIOUS business back in the day), but he seemed to have no problems. Anyway, this truck was the bomb. See, you had to get the MINI blazer. The big blazer was oh, so not cool.


Mustang 5.0 - Ooh, Wee! See, now, you just couldn't have ANY mustang, yo. We wanted to know if you had a Five-Point-O mustang! And if you lied, see we could check, because if it did-ent say so on the car, then you just had some regular sheeot going on. Don't have NO european plates on them man, you were set! You were cool if you had the hard top, but if you had the CONVERTIBLE 5.0, then you were doing big thangs, big thangs, probably most of which were illegal.


Suzuki Samurai: Um, prolly in my top five list of the most dangerous vehicles ever made. Designed to kill, I say (Ford Pinto tops the list, and bringing up the rear in a CLOSE second is the aptly titled Pontiac Fiero). These cars were cool and fun, and were this close to tipping over faster than a one hundred pound man with a bottle of Mad Dog 20 20 in his back pocket. But it was cool if somebody had one.


300 ZX - Who would have thought that we would drool over the sequel to the much beloved classic 280 ZX ?? (which by the way, I would STILL roll in that bitch). This car was it, and usually was accompanied by T-Tops and some serious Pioneer - laced sounds. Rolling in this (and I did date a guy that had this car, you couldn't tell me nothing), was the epitome of being grown. PS: I dont know why I thought I was so cute in his car that sheeot wasn't mine I was rolling a nine year old Toyota Cressida with the automatic seatbelts that potentially could render you unconscious if you weren't paying attention.


The Legend: Yes, that one. The Acura Legend. I personally have a conspiracy theory regarding this car. I believe that they knew that I would just be too sexy for my shirt, to drive this car, and before I could get out of college, they discontinued it. I also believe that the executive or upper management personnel that were responsible for making this decision were eventually managed out of the business, because this is, in my personal opinion, far and beyond, the very best car they have EVER made.

What were YOUR cars back in the day? Did you have one? Or only DREAM of having them?