Sometimes good bye is forever and sometimes its just see you later for now.  I’m not sure which one this is, but I know that for the time being I am finished.  Maybe I’ll come back to blog again and maybe I’ll just leave this here collecting dust.  Only time will tell. 

It was fun knowing you and cathartic writing.  Feel free to browse and peruse past posts.  I cleaned house so most of the 132 posts are my personal opinion based editorials or about authors/writers I admire.  Thanks for your support over these 5 years. 

Peace love and blessings to all!

Good-bye

Ingrid

When he left me and decided to marry the other woman he didn’t take into consideration that he was going to miss anything about me. Maybe, he thought I’d stay. I put up with a lot while we were together. Maybe he thought after some space and time I’d forget all the heartache and headache I experienced throughout out eight year “relationship”. Who knows — like Joni Mitchell said “Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone”

Don’t get me wrong I forgave him for his part in broken heart, and over the years I have owned my own failings that allowed me to stay as long as I did. However, in the last post I wrote he made the comment that he agreed with Curious that maybe I needed someone to do for me. Really?

Let’s just say I do need someone to do something for me. Maybe I have neglected myself and could use a little pampering. The question becomes was he going to do it and would his wife appreciate him being so attentive to me? Ummmm… Imma go out on a limb and say that is a definitive no. He wasn’t very attentive the whole 8 years we were together. Everything was about him all the time and when it wasn’t about him it was about what he could change about me. I’m trying to figure out if I was so imperfect when we were together why would you care what I have to say now?

I considered shutting my blog down because of this man, but the truth be told since we broke up I have changed my number and moved. That should be enough. I don’t think I should punish myself by closing the place I vent my thoughts just because he refuses to be a gentleman. I just don’t understand how a person can be so self centered that after everything that happened between us he feels he has the right to force his way into any part of my life? I don’t get that? I don’t understand why I should care his home life is so boring he misses what I have to say. I am of the opinion that it wasn’t worth much to him since he married someone else. We all have decisions we have to live with.

Rick, I think its time you stop this nonsense. Just go away. This is my last request. Don’t make this get ugly… I haven’t changed that much.

Christmas used to be my favorite holiday. The air was charged with magic and love. I had a small child whose eyes lit up with delight as she saw the gifts begin to appear under the tree wrapped for Midnight on Christmas Morning. Our tradition was that the child went to bed around 9pm for a nap and woke up at midnight and ripped into wrapping paper until she had uncovered all her gifts. About 3 years ago Christmas became a chore and lost its joy for me. I became the Grinch. I go through the motions; however, there is no joy in buying gifts just dread and duty. I don’t want to buy anything, but I have to because … Well that’s what’s done on Christmas.

I understand “Jesus is the Reason” and all that. I’ve written posts in years past about that very thing, but really none of that matters to me as Christmas approaches. My mother knows what she is getting, after a lot of arm twisting and pressure my father’s order has been placed, and the Child is getting 3 semi-expensive pieces to augment her wardrobe and some cash on a rushcard so she can shop the sales after Christmas. One friend asked for a gift card and everyone else knows I’m broke. My mother put up my tree this year. It’s been absent for about 2 years or so.

I have always loved Dr. Seuss’ How the Grinch Stole Christmas. To this day The Grinch is still my favorite part of the holidays. I always loved how old Grinchy Claus’ heart grew “three sizes that day”. I am simply praying for 2 sizes. I’d be happy to just not hate the holidays.

Watch the Grinch Here

On Thanksgiving I was treated to the most depressing movie I have ever had the displeasure of seeing. Precious.

Please be warned that there will be tons of spoilers in this post. If you have any intentions of watching this movie stop reading now. I strongly discourage anyone from watching this movie, but if you must and don’t want to know just how depressed you’ll be when its over then quit reading this post now.

The movie is well written and well acted.  I still say don’t go see it.  It was a waste of good talent.  I am so pissed at Oprah and Tyler for making this atrocity I could scream.

Just in case uninformed white folks needed another reason to think black folks were abnormal humans. These so-called voices of the black community decide this is a good story to tell.  As if Mr. Perry hadn’t done enough damage to our heritage with House of Payne he and Oprah team up for this depressing 2 hours of ghetto extremism.

Precious is a 400 pound 16 year old girl who gives “greasy” a whole new name. She was greasy the whole movie. Her mother was greasy. And they both looked like they smelled. To add insult to injury the mother took abusive to a whole new level. I have never heard “fucker” used in so many different ways.

Early on we find out precious is pregnant with child #2 and her babies’ daddy is also her daddy. Yep, her kids are her siblings.

Damn.

Her mother is pissed with Precious because her man gave her daughter 2 kids and only gave her one.

Just damn. 

An incestous rapist for a father and a crazy, physically, verbally, and emotionally abusive mother who is jealous of you because your daddy got you pregnant twice and only got her pregnant once. It can’t get any worse than that right? 

WRONG!

To add insult to injury Precious’ father dies of AIDS and she discovers that he gave her a gift that keeps on giving… HIV. If you’re anything like me at this point you are just disgusted. I sat there thinking if this girl kills herself I will understand.

The movie ends with the mother telling Precious in the welfare office that Precious’ father molested her from the time she was a baby and he did it while they were screwing with Precious in the bed.  Talk about the threesome made in hell.  In spite of all this she still needed them to be a family. She needs Precious to come home so she can get her welfare check.
Now, if you listen to Oprah, Tyler, or any other the people who say this is a poignant and relevant movie then you deserve the Prozac you’ll need when the movie goes off. This was the worst movie I have ever had the displeasure of enduring. If you insist on torturing yourself then I have a prescription to help you get through the 2 hour tour of hell.

You will need 1 large glass of your favorite wine, mixed drink and/or hard liquor. If you don’t have to worry about drug testing at work just skip the drink and get a bag of weed. Or better yet just don’t watch it.

“how do you like his lyrics?
http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/lilwayne/kisha.html“

Now the song she links is called Kisha and is pretty foul. I think in my new found respect for Wayne Carter as a man I neglected to address what I thought of his music as Li’l Wayne. This was too big of an answer to address in the comment section of my blog, but I thought God’s Child had a valid question. I also think that it is not only valid in the context of how I see Li’l Wayne, but how I see music, censorship, the 1^st amendment and parenthood.

First, let me be clear in saying that while I know my daughter has seen and heard things I wouldn’t approve simply by way of my allowing her to leave the house.  What she listens to and watches when she is at home is limited to what I purchase. She does not have access to download her own music because my personal laptop is the only one authorized for those accounts and she doesn’t buy cd’s or movies because she feels her money s better spent on making her lips shiny, her nails colorful, and being a little Lisa Bonet-ish fashionista. That is not to say that when she comes of age to buy or have access to such things I will ban it, but for now I wield my control of what is in our media library and limit those things I deem inappropriate. Has she ever heard a Li’l Wayne song? Yep, she has. Does she like Li’l Wayne music? Yep, she does. Neither of us had ever heard the Kisha song — mainly because if I buy or download a song by him it is usually the radio-clean edit.

Hip-Hop is a minefield for parents. Many rappers express concepts and discuss topics we cringe to think about and struggle to grasp even with our adult knowledge, but the music is oftentimes marketed to our children rather than the adults it is meant to entertain. I like Hip-Hop. It is not my favorite music genre, but sometimes it fits my mood or moves my workout routine in ways that (Neo-)Soul, R&B, Jazz or Gospel just don’t. The course language, the witty play on words, and the driving baselines just get good to me. I tend to shy away from songs that discuss women in a bad light, but I am not necessarily offended by it. I know as a woman that is hard for some to understand, but the truth of the matter is I have never been a whore, skank, slut, cougar, hood rat, or any other of the names many of the songs discuss. Since I know these songs couldn’t possible be referring to me I not offended by them, I don’t dignify them with a moment thought.

To me this is not just about Li’l Wayne. Music, Spoken Word, Written Word, and any other form of art you can think of all are protected under the first amendment. I may not like what your say or create but I will defend your right to say it. I don’t believe in censorship so I will defend your right watch, listen to and purchase whatever you want. The flip side of that is I retain the right to say whatever I want about any and all subjects including your obvious lack of talent and the disturbing way your mind works that would allow you to create the so-called art.

After the behind the music episode I downloaded a lot of his music to see how I felt about it. Some of it I really liked and some of it I disliked because of content, but all of it had the redeeming quality of having talent. I have to give him credit for having the ability to take the English language and use the words in a creative way and if I am very honest the songs I hated were only because of the lyrics. The music was actually pretty good.

So, in response to GC’s comment, what about his lyrics — some of them I like. Some of them I hate, but I defend his right to say them all. The ones I hate I don’t listen to. The one’s I like I loaded onto my iPod, and in the end I still respect the man behind the music. His life is typical of that of so many of our black men. Born in poverty, raised by a mother who didn’t understand that it is not good to expect your son to fill in your husband’s space, dropped out early, and yet he is still here and a productive citizen. No, he is not the most politically correct person. He is not a good role model with his drug use, drinking, and lyrics, but in spite of it all he is a man who knows his own mind and the space he occupies in this world. I can still respect that.

We all know the expression “you can’t judge a book by its cover.” Well… *SIGH* I was wrong. I spend a lot of time telling the child and her friends that they are in danger of losing IQ points; mostly for watching stupid stuff like Maury, Rob & Big, and listening to rappers like Li’l Wayne. Well, I still think day time talk shows will kill off brain cells as fast as weed with considerably less pleasure, but I have to admit I was wrong about Rob & Big. They are an excellent substitute for weed and I am sorry Big left the show. I intend to catch up on reruns.

As for Li’l Wayne… I was waaay wrong a lot.

Recently, due to a very bad upper respiratory infection that sent my asthma into a tailspin I spent 4 days in the hospital. No, I have not been smoking weed. Let’s just say my office and the mold living there was bound to do me in eventually. But that is a different post that will occur after OSHA has finished its investigation. Anyhow, back to Li’l Wayne.

While hooked up to IV fluids and with little else to do but take breathing treatments, eat hospital fruit salad, beg my friends to smuggle in cookies (Thanks Wan!) and watch TV – I decided to watch the VH1 Behind the music featuring Li’l Wayne. The truth be told I was looking for more ammo so I could spout off more “Li’l Wayne is of the Devil” rhetoric. Why, you may ask, would I want to do that? Well, mostly because it’s my job as a parent to hate my child’s music. We all do it so I was taking that responsibility seriously. What kind of parent would I be if I didn’t pick a few rappers and swear up and down they were causing severe brain damage to the children? To be fair I never really thought his music sucked. I just picked him because he looks like an evil, satan-cultivated, troll.

(These Pics were “borrowed” from Nikki over @ Infinite Ink)

What good parent wouldn’t rebel against him? Anyhow, so I watching the Behind the Music and I find out he was an Honor student who dropped out of school to become a rapper because his stepdad (who was more of a father than his married abuser of a biological father) was killed.

After his stepdad’s death, Wayne assumed the role of man of the house and stated quite plainly that it was his place to become his mother’s husband. Not in a freaky incest-y way like Mackenzie Phillips, but because his mother wasn’t woman enough to nurture her son into manhood and instead allowed her child to take care of her. Now, normally this type of upbringing will force the young man into the world of drugs and crime. Fortunately for Wayne, he was smart, had the ability to play on words, and make folks want to listen. Li’l Wayne began rapping in his early teens and hasn’t slowed down.

Four things gave me a new level of respect for the man.

 #1 On education he was very honest. He said he was a good student because he never thought school was hard. He stated “The teachers took the lessons from the books and gave you the answers. All I did was do my work.” That scored more points with me than he will ever know. I allowed my child to be held back last year. Not because she didn’t understand her lessons, but because she decided to be a lazy ass and she obstinately refused to do any work. Now, I have Li’l Wayne to back me up when she starts playing lazy. Yep, I know that makes me a slightly hypocritical opportunist. The same man I condemned as satan’s spawn I now use to shame the child when she procrastinates. I’m such a good mother .

 #2 His work ethic is wicked (in a good way). Hell, anyone who works that hard has truly earned every dime. Period. I love to see people who love what they do and do it full out. That does it for me. He does a full concert, grabs a bite to eat and goes to work in the studio that’s on his tour bus. He may not settle in until 3am, but even while touring he is working on the next project. He said he was the greatest rapper alive. I don’t know if I’m on that trip, but if the work he puts in is any indication – he has definitely earned a space in the top 5.

 #3 Despite or maybe because his mother was so stereotypically ghetto – he is a real man. How do I define that? He puts in work, loves his kids AND takes excellent care of them, he still cares for his now ex-wife, he is a damn good son to his mother, and he looks out for all those around him that depend on him.  He is loyal to those who came up with him.  Loyalty is the one thing that gets me everytime.  Loyalty doesn’t come easy and it is even more rare than real trust. 

He moved from New Orleans, but he never turned his back. He said that while watching the coverage of Katrina he didn’t realize until several days later that people he knew were victims. He said he began getting phone calls saying so & so died. That this one drowned in front of his family. That one lost everything. In his shock he couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that Katrina had killed or harmed “people I knew.” Fame tends to isolate, but rather than stay isolated he QUIETLY went to work helping the people in New Orleans. He goes on to say that many celebrities jump on the “save the world” bandwagon. That’s cool, but he said for him it wasn’t the world it was family. Much respect due simply for being a man.

 Lastly, and this is a little warped, but I can still respect him. Mainly because this is how I feel about it too. He began talking about his arrest in NY. Wayne is a prolific weed smoker and is notorious for drinking Syrup (or Purple Drank). Now for those who don’t know what Syrup is — it is a drink made from Rx cough syrup. You know the good kind with codeine that not only kills the cough but knocks you on your ass.

For the record I think as a parent it is my responsibility to condemn all drug use. “It’s bad for you” doesn’t even begin to describe what drugs can do to a person. I don’t use drugs. I don’t allow my daughter in environments where drugs are used or condoned, and I think that anything that alters your reality is probably not a good idea. I’m a bit of a control freak. That’s why, even though some days I wish I had a nickel bag and a nice bottle of Muscat, I settle for the wine and don’t call the weed man. HOWEVER, I believe in a person’s right to be grown. Sho nuff grown.

 That said when he told the interviewer he didn’t care if it was heroin in his cup it was HIS cup and therefore, nobody’s damn business what he was drinking — I have to admit I had to vigorously nod my head in the amen corner.

Should he drink syrup? Probably not as it is known for causing heart problems and is a nefarious killer of young black men by way of heart failure. I firmly believe in not only personal responsibility but also personal freedom. Sure, prescription drug use is what killed Mike and a slew of other celebrities, but I am hard pressed to blame anyone but the celebrity as they all know the risks of the drugs they take. Grown folks are funny like that. We eat that second slice of cake knowing we have no intention of working out. We drink that 4^th glass of wine knowing we are going to have a helluva headache in the morning. We ride around town without our seatbelts, and a host of other things that are not good for us.  We do it because we are grown and feel the positives outweigh the risks.  I may not have his vice, but I have several of my own and I am grown enough not only to do what I do, but also to take responisbility for all my actions.  He strikes as a man who feels the same. 

When asked about his trial he said its not on his radar.  Time will take care of that and he’ll deal with those consequences when they come.  Untill then he keeps on working.  Yep, a man after my own heart.    

Maybe I’d feel differently if he was giving it to children, but at last check he was just imbibing on his own with other grown ass folks. That said I am a proponent of personal freedom and I see no reason to regulate what’s in his Styrofoam cup. The part time environmentalist in me wishes he drink from something recyclable, but hey you can’t have everything.

 So here I am removing Li’l Wayne from my satan spawn list. Don’t worry folks after the VMA’s I have just the person to take his place. Lady Gaga I now have a seat for you. Take a load off I’m pretty sure you’ll be here for a while.

Yesterday I was basking in the glory of being alone with no one to interrupt my solitude when I decided I needed a good movie to complete the effect. I had watched a couple of fantasy and romantic comedies and was in the mood for something with a little more substance when I came across the movie Milk. It is the true story of San Francisco Supervisor Harvey Milk who started off as a gay rights activist.

I love historically based movies; especially autobiographical movies. There is something about watching the past play out that give you a certain perspective. I know these movies are not always accurate, but it is that tone and the intent that opens your eyes and makes you want to learn more. Milk is no exception. This movie touched me. I think what struck me more than anything was the moment in the movie where Anita Bryant was talking to a group of her supporters and in this hate speech she made the comment that there are “evils in this world masquerading as something good…”

As A heterosexual Christian woman with a child there was nothing more asinine than that comment coming out of her mouth. All I could think was that she is exactly right, but she doesn’t realize the evil masquerading as good was her. I understand there is fundamental disagreement between the some Christians and the lifestyle of homosexuals, but I was under there impression that faith and relationship with God is personal. Maybe I was confused because I thought Jesus was love.

The older I get the less I understand intolerance. No one seems to understand when we make it easy to take the rights away from group the easier it becomes to decimate more and more groups until there is so much intolerance there is no one left. Evils like this create a hate that grows without bounds. God never meant for us to hate each other and he never made it our job to decide who got into heaven or was sent to hell. Oddly enough Ms. Bryant learned the hard way that bigotry and religious fanaticism comes back to bite you in the ass when life steps in. It seems she was in an abusive marriage and was all but disowned by the church she spent so much time protecting from gay people when she decided she needed to divorce her husband. Her endorsements dried up and she was uninvited from the Christian events she used to headline. Funny how hate works. (Read more here)

I know that sometimes I live in a world of idealistic utopia, but it is my sincere prayer that when someone like Mr. Milk is assassinated we learn to be more tolerant. Deaths like that should never be glossed over or discounted. He lived, he loved and he fought for tolerance. This is the definition of a hero. (Learn more about Harvey Milk here.)