Nearly twenty-four years ago, on Chicago's South Side, a promising young athlete, a basketball phenom, was gunned down, in broad daylight, on a cold wintry street near his high school. Ben Wilson was seventeen. I was fifteen. I didn't know Benji, as he was affectionately called, but his story touched the entire city, and the senseless killing rocked me to the core. I couldn't understand, couldn't process it, but, I shared the grief felt by many others my age who knew and loved him. I remember it so well. I remember they took him to St. Bernard Hospital, and I remember when the news came over the radio that he did not make it. The DJ played T.ramaine Hawkins "Goin Up Yonder" and I was in the back seat of my Daddy's Volvo, and I cried quietly, because I didn't know if it was okay to do so. If I remember correctly, the radio station broadcast live from Simeon's gymnasium, where students gathered to mourn and comfort one another. I remember the sadness, the wailing, the words of comfort from adults. It was awful and it was frightening.
Years before that, when I was just a little girl, one of my cousin's was murdered, by gunfire, on the South Side, and I believe he was a mere fifteen at that time. I remember my family gathering in the emergency room of the hospital where my mother worked, and again, if I recall correctly, she was part of the team working to save his life. But, he didn't make it. His bullet riddled body couldn't maintain the blood that they were frantically pumping into him.
There are a few other stories I can tell, stories of violence in my beloved city, the city we natives lovingly refer to as "The Crib." However, the Jennifer Hudson Family tragedy is most prescient in my mind right now. When my girl MoMo first mentioned it to me, I jumped online to search the story. As the details rolled in, all I wondered was "why", then I prayed and asked God to allow myself and the Hudson family to lean on Him and not our own understanding. I began hearing T.ramaine Hawkins song again, and somehow, it is tied, in my psyche, to senseless tragedy at "The Crib." I awoke yesterday to the news that a body, that of a young black boy, had been found, in the SUV the authorities were looking for, and mu heart sunk. By end of day it, it was all clear.
LA is so very different. I do not know the hood here, the way I do at home. I'm familiar with The Jungles, I handle business on Crenshaw, I lived in Compton for some time my first year here, but its different. As I've been watching WGN and all other news reports covering the story, I see faces that feel so familiar, hear a dialect that is so country. :)
There is an element to the hood in Chicago that is so distinct, so sad, yet loving and rich with "down home." There is desperation, optimism and complacency that are so intertwined, so blurry, that one wonders if this cycle can ever be broken. Just when there seems to be a glimmer of hope, that someone "from here" can make it, shht like this takes place. There are those who want to leave and those who want to stay, and the reasons are various, but ties always remain, because as Jennifer said, "it keeps me grounded" and you can't forget where you came from.
When I get home to Chicago, the first place I want to go is Harold's on 87th Street. I want to drive around and see the city that raised me, I want to hit Stoney Island, King Drive and Cottage Grove; Hyde park and Downtown. I want to go Steppin'. I grew up in London Towne, at the tip of the "Wild Hundreds" and if I don't make it to the old neighborhood to visit, there are consequences to pay from those who played instrumental roles in making me into the woman I am today. When I go home, I feel recharged; the city is no punk. It is arguably the most segregated city in the country, but there is beauty in that, because you can drive or ride "the El" from one area to the next and experience different cultures and people. I did this for four years during High School. The city's history is legendary, roaring with jazz, blues and classical music. The politics are unrivaled, and the food...incredible. I grew up listening to House music. I attended the strongly rooted Trinity United Church of Christ. I have kept in touch with virtually all of my friends, starting from kindergarten.
I must admit though, that things are changing. Gentrification has reared its ugly head and the dynamics and landscapes are forever altered. On the South and West Sides, crime has increased and the living ain't necessarily easy. I hear it when I talk to my friends who are cops, and my friends who are funeral directors. The heartbeat is different, the soul has been sucked out some.
P.alin and McC.ain should visit this "real America", where school-aged children are gunned down on city buses, to and from school. They should familiarize themselves with the "real America" where little seven year old boys die at the hands of guns, along with their grandmothers and uncles. You know, those wonderful firearms that P.alin uses to hunt Moose? They aren't so wonderful in the hood. However, O.bama knows these streets, so don't underestimate his gumption, his toughness. He is sensitive to this plight, and not necessarily because he is Black. Don't start that shht with me. He knows it, because he cares to know and understand.
J.ennifer H.udson's life is heading into a new chapter now, where she must cope with the inexplicable deaths of her loved ones, and while it is both sad and troublesome, the most heartbreaking thing is that these types of crimes are committed daily in hoods all across our country, but its so prevalent that the media doesn't bother to report it on national news. Just like the Hudson's neighbors in Englewood didn't bother to report gunfire, because "we hear it all the time."
Get your ass out and vote next Tuesday. No excuses.
The Maven
Showing posts with label A Chicago Childhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label A Chicago Childhood. Show all posts
10.28.2008
9.18.2008
Allergy Schmallergy
My allergies are currently the bane of my existence. According to pollen.com, the counts in my area are medium to medium-high, which explains my suffering to some degree. But, I'm not new to this.
As a child, my summers were full of cold presses, snot rags, and B.enadryl. I can remember my mother looking at me with pity when my eyes were itchy, puffy, and often swollen shut. I spent many days sitting on the porch with a cool towel over my eyes, watching my homies play. Mosquito bites were also a HUGE problem. If I was bitten, rest assured that it would swell up into a knot and cause me great discomfort and sleepless nights. Who didn't get bitten by mosquitoes while outside playing in the summertime, so you understand my suffering, right?
Luckily, I've grown out of THAT, but I sill suffer and the symptoms have morphed into scratchy ears and throat from sinus irritation. Go figure.
I should probably mention that I went on a long, beautiful and peaceful walk this evening looking at beautiful homes and gardens, and have been exposed to all sorts of greenery and fresh air. (Smile)
My homegirl, and best friend from high school, Dr. J.M., is a pharmacist, and she suggested Z.yrtec; she also suggested I lay low at home after I take it.
I have taken one already, and I feel the drowsiness setting in, so I have to kick all of you to the curb.
Nite Nite
Maven
As a child, my summers were full of cold presses, snot rags, and B.enadryl. I can remember my mother looking at me with pity when my eyes were itchy, puffy, and often swollen shut. I spent many days sitting on the porch with a cool towel over my eyes, watching my homies play. Mosquito bites were also a HUGE problem. If I was bitten, rest assured that it would swell up into a knot and cause me great discomfort and sleepless nights. Who didn't get bitten by mosquitoes while outside playing in the summertime, so you understand my suffering, right?
Luckily, I've grown out of THAT, but I sill suffer and the symptoms have morphed into scratchy ears and throat from sinus irritation. Go figure.
I should probably mention that I went on a long, beautiful and peaceful walk this evening looking at beautiful homes and gardens, and have been exposed to all sorts of greenery and fresh air. (Smile)
My homegirl, and best friend from high school, Dr. J.M., is a pharmacist, and she suggested Z.yrtec; she also suggested I lay low at home after I take it.
I have taken one already, and I feel the drowsiness setting in, so I have to kick all of you to the curb.
Nite Nite
Maven
8.14.2008
Flower Child
My thumb is getting greener. Once upon a time, a plant was sure to meet early demise in my care. I just didn't get it.
Growing up, I lived next door to an avid gardener. Her name was Willa and she did not play when it came to her shrubs and flowers. My playmates and I would catch hell or high water for running across her grass and trampling her marigolds. She spent serious time tending her yard and the mere thought of anyone, especially someones little nappy-headed child, walking on her consecrated grounds was enough, I'm sure, to set her sponge rollers ablaze. Believe me when I say, that there were consequences to pay for running through her yard, namely a tongue lashing sprinkled with a few expletives that to me sounded as beautiful as her garden looked (yes, I love the art of cussin').
Fast forward some years to my mother's garden. As she matured, she too caught the gardening bug. Her yard and landscaping is not for punks. For a city dwelling, a Chicago bungalow, to be exact, The Lady's greenery is something to talk about. I used to look at her out in that yard like she was crazy. I mean, who wants their hands all up and through the dirt, and who has the patience to care for some plants and flowers until they mature, and who in their right mind would be putting certain plants/bulbs away for the winter, only to replant them in spring and start the process all over again?
Well, a few Thanksgiving's ago, on The Lady annual visit, I told her I wanted to spruce up the outside of my LA bungalow (very different from the Chicago style). Little did I know, that she would set me on a path to gardening glory! Mom set it off! We amended the soil and planted all sorts of things, and through trial and error, I must say that I have become pretty good. I lost a few things in the process so now I mainly go the container route with lots of clay pots; its easier to keep a handle on it this way. The dollar store sells clay pots, so I usually stcok up for when the mood strikes me to plant something new. I have mums, vinca, zinnia, and verbena to name a few. My tool game is on point too, I have special shoes, gloves to mactch and knee pads. I'm just missing a big sun hat, but I will wait for next summer for that, I don't wanna seem to frantic! :)
Once I get a full-fledged backyard, y'all better watch out because its gonna be like something you might see on HGeeTV, with vintage benches, a hammock, and some kinda well-behaved dog running around too.
My friends laugh at my green thumb, but I know they consider it classic Maven behavior, and they respect it.
The Lady was always right, gardening is therapeutic, and it is one of the most relaxing things I have ever done. Of course, the mimosas or glasses of wine, and the "Gardening" playlist on my I.Tunes makes it that much better. But, if you can, man, woman and child, I encourage you to try it. You'll have no regrets.
Side note to the PhDiva, get the little Capricorn's garden started!
Side note to K & K Lee, I got you next time I'm in The A.
As for Ms. Willadean, I hope she's looking down on me with approval because I think of her often when I'm diggin' in that dirt.
Maven
Growing up, I lived next door to an avid gardener. Her name was Willa and she did not play when it came to her shrubs and flowers. My playmates and I would catch hell or high water for running across her grass and trampling her marigolds. She spent serious time tending her yard and the mere thought of anyone, especially someones little nappy-headed child, walking on her consecrated grounds was enough, I'm sure, to set her sponge rollers ablaze. Believe me when I say, that there were consequences to pay for running through her yard, namely a tongue lashing sprinkled with a few expletives that to me sounded as beautiful as her garden looked (yes, I love the art of cussin').
Fast forward some years to my mother's garden. As she matured, she too caught the gardening bug. Her yard and landscaping is not for punks. For a city dwelling, a Chicago bungalow, to be exact, The Lady's greenery is something to talk about. I used to look at her out in that yard like she was crazy. I mean, who wants their hands all up and through the dirt, and who has the patience to care for some plants and flowers until they mature, and who in their right mind would be putting certain plants/bulbs away for the winter, only to replant them in spring and start the process all over again?
Well, a few Thanksgiving's ago, on The Lady annual visit, I told her I wanted to spruce up the outside of my LA bungalow (very different from the Chicago style). Little did I know, that she would set me on a path to gardening glory! Mom set it off! We amended the soil and planted all sorts of things, and through trial and error, I must say that I have become pretty good. I lost a few things in the process so now I mainly go the container route with lots of clay pots; its easier to keep a handle on it this way. The dollar store sells clay pots, so I usually stcok up for when the mood strikes me to plant something new. I have mums, vinca, zinnia, and verbena to name a few. My tool game is on point too, I have special shoes, gloves to mactch and knee pads. I'm just missing a big sun hat, but I will wait for next summer for that, I don't wanna seem to frantic! :)
Once I get a full-fledged backyard, y'all better watch out because its gonna be like something you might see on HGeeTV, with vintage benches, a hammock, and some kinda well-behaved dog running around too.
My friends laugh at my green thumb, but I know they consider it classic Maven behavior, and they respect it.
The Lady was always right, gardening is therapeutic, and it is one of the most relaxing things I have ever done. Of course, the mimosas or glasses of wine, and the "Gardening" playlist on my I.Tunes makes it that much better. But, if you can, man, woman and child, I encourage you to try it. You'll have no regrets.
Side note to the PhDiva, get the little Capricorn's garden started!
Side note to K & K Lee, I got you next time I'm in The A.
As for Ms. Willadean, I hope she's looking down on me with approval because I think of her often when I'm diggin' in that dirt.
Maven
7.11.2008
The Wrap Up
I owe you an apology. Perhaps I had you all anticipatory and excited to hear of my daily exploits in The Chi, yet I let you down. I didn't post after that first day, and again, I apologize but............. I WAS KICKIN' IT!!!!!!!
Lawd, Today! What a trip. IF you have never been to Chicago during the Fourth of July, you are missing out on an incredible Black experience.
The weather was beautiful, that Chicago summer air, especially at night, is intoxicating. Yes, its muggy and sticky at times, but its still love.
Because so many days have passed, my account of festivities and happenings will be abbreviated for times sake. I realize you don't come here to red a novel.
Day two, Friday, after hanging with Pops, I went to visit The Lady, albeit briefly, because she had to go "make the donuts". Then I went to visit my best friend, The Good Doctor, in her new diggs, to check it out. I am very proud of her accomplishments as of late and she and the little lady Capricorn aka "the future MD", love their house, so I love it too! Later that night, I went steppin' in CC Hills at Sweet Geogia [sic] Browns, a South Suburban lounge. I got a chance to dance with one of my long time friends and he was quite impressed with my progress, besides, he is a really good stepper, so i felt good holding my own. My girls (The Good Doc, Stella, Prof. Woo) and I laughed and drank and took pics, and I danced as much as my feet could stand. By the end of the night, my dogs were yelping from pain. Clearly, I'd worn the wrong shoes, but I was cute! I ended that night with a White Castle burger (a late night staple in The Chi), and it tasted delicious, but one was enough for various reasons (smile).
On Saturday, I hooked up with one of my oldest friends, Ms. ILM, and we scooped my girl Ms. Sophisticate (in from DC) and headed to the Old Skool Picnic. Chicago's OSP is not for the faint of heart. It is an ALL day affair full of grilling, drinking, socializing, reminiscing, and of course - Chicago House Music! For my generation, it is one of the most anticipated events of the summer. People bring their spouses and children, set up tents, and lay out blankets, for what ends up being a wonderful reunion and a humongous party. It is an incredible sight to see. I saw friends from grammar school, high school, college, and old jobs. I saw the twins that used to braid my hair.... what's up Doublestitch! I saw some of my homies (wassup Scilla), long lost friends, former enemies, ex-boyfriends, Squirrels and dips, (both mine and my girls). I even saw other LA transplants back in the saddle....wassup Coodie! I had a ball and it was just great to be amongst my own without incident or problem. That night, my crew was talking about keeping the party going at some aftersets, but my ass was tired and I had to haul it all the way back to the woods to Pops' house. That is a LONG drive.
Sunday was lovely. It was family day! I had breakfast with Papa, The Lady, Auntie Day Day and my cousin L. After eating, we went to catch a flick, and saw that new Big Willie movie. It was entertaining, and I enjoyed it for the most part, but it gave me a King K vibe at the end, and I always have issue when any brotha in a movie, sacrifices himself or his life to save Miss Ann. I'll leave it at that. After the movie, The Lady and I went to church and it was sooooo good to be in the TUCC sanctuary. I love that church! I reconnected with a member that I used to mentor alongside, I saw my boy who plays drums for the choir, and saw one of my grammar school teachers, Ms. Tripplett. She was still as fly as ever!
After church, I went to scoop my girl Mama So, and headed North to have tapas with The Ghandi's, MoMo and the CEO. It turned out to be quite eventful due to the topics of conversation, but all in all, we had a good time. Once again, I had to trek back to the woods....ooh wee, that's a drive, but it must not have worn on me too bad, becuz, I stopped by Stella's crib to see her beautiful chillun'. Please note though, that she too lives in the woods so I was close to home.
Monday and Tuesday I TRIED to slow it down. Monday, The Lady and I went downtown and afterwards we hit up the Harold's on 87th Street so I could have my fix, a Gizzard and Wing combo, mild and hot sauce, with salt and pepper. Hood Scrumptious! I then went to visit Grandad and Emo. No sign of the little brother though; he was in the streets. Later that night, I went to have a drink with MoMo. She and I went to Parc 52, our friend MBB's spot in The HP. We sat at the bar and had great girl talk. Girl talk is excellent sometimes, like when there is no game on! LOL! Once again, back to the woods for a good nights rest. But not before I stopped by a lounge where my girl Stella was hanging for a colleague's birthday celebration. One thing about The Chi, the lounges are poppin', and I aspire to be a Lounge Lizard, or Lounge Beyotch (as I like to say), so any time spent inside one is time well spent, in my book.
Tuesday, I had breakfast with The Mouth of the Southside (she knows who she is), and then headed into the city to the old neighborhood (London Towne) for a visit with my second Mom, T Maxx. Next I headed to The Lady's crib again for one last visit, and my cousin, Pretty Black, brought her boys by. They are so cute! To end the day, I went to Papa's house and we ordered pizza, drank brew, read the paper, and watched that (B)ubba, (E)d and (T)ed reality show about those LA kids in the Hills. Lights out.
Wednesday, my final day, I basically hung out with Papa. We went to run some errands, ate breakfast, and stopped by Mama So's parents house to see her and her boys. I had not seen those boys in about two years and they just amaze me; they are so nice and are growing by leaps and bounds. It was good to see her Mom and Dad too!
I took a shuttle from the burbs to O'Hare and my Papa's quest to get me there on time was like being in Talladega Nights or something because he was driving like a cannonball on fire.
I am back in LaLa now, completely and utterly exhausted and a little sad, because I'm coming down off my amazing home "high". Its like I'm living Stevie W's "Rocket Love".
In the midst of this whirlwind, I missed a few B Days. Happy Born Day to JM, Moose, EY, and JC! Please forgive and charge it to the game!
I'll catch y'all in a day or two. Promise. A Squirrel's gotta get her bearings.
The Maven
Lawd, Today! What a trip. IF you have never been to Chicago during the Fourth of July, you are missing out on an incredible Black experience.
The weather was beautiful, that Chicago summer air, especially at night, is intoxicating. Yes, its muggy and sticky at times, but its still love.
Because so many days have passed, my account of festivities and happenings will be abbreviated for times sake. I realize you don't come here to red a novel.
Day two, Friday, after hanging with Pops, I went to visit The Lady, albeit briefly, because she had to go "make the donuts". Then I went to visit my best friend, The Good Doctor, in her new diggs, to check it out. I am very proud of her accomplishments as of late and she and the little lady Capricorn aka "the future MD", love their house, so I love it too! Later that night, I went steppin' in CC Hills at Sweet Geogia [sic] Browns, a South Suburban lounge. I got a chance to dance with one of my long time friends and he was quite impressed with my progress, besides, he is a really good stepper, so i felt good holding my own. My girls (The Good Doc, Stella, Prof. Woo) and I laughed and drank and took pics, and I danced as much as my feet could stand. By the end of the night, my dogs were yelping from pain. Clearly, I'd worn the wrong shoes, but I was cute! I ended that night with a White Castle burger (a late night staple in The Chi), and it tasted delicious, but one was enough for various reasons (smile).
On Saturday, I hooked up with one of my oldest friends, Ms. ILM, and we scooped my girl Ms. Sophisticate (in from DC) and headed to the Old Skool Picnic. Chicago's OSP is not for the faint of heart. It is an ALL day affair full of grilling, drinking, socializing, reminiscing, and of course - Chicago House Music! For my generation, it is one of the most anticipated events of the summer. People bring their spouses and children, set up tents, and lay out blankets, for what ends up being a wonderful reunion and a humongous party. It is an incredible sight to see. I saw friends from grammar school, high school, college, and old jobs. I saw the twins that used to braid my hair.... what's up Doublestitch! I saw some of my homies (wassup Scilla), long lost friends, former enemies, ex-boyfriends, Squirrels and dips, (both mine and my girls). I even saw other LA transplants back in the saddle....wassup Coodie! I had a ball and it was just great to be amongst my own without incident or problem. That night, my crew was talking about keeping the party going at some aftersets, but my ass was tired and I had to haul it all the way back to the woods to Pops' house. That is a LONG drive.
Sunday was lovely. It was family day! I had breakfast with Papa, The Lady, Auntie Day Day and my cousin L. After eating, we went to catch a flick, and saw that new Big Willie movie. It was entertaining, and I enjoyed it for the most part, but it gave me a King K vibe at the end, and I always have issue when any brotha in a movie, sacrifices himself or his life to save Miss Ann. I'll leave it at that. After the movie, The Lady and I went to church and it was sooooo good to be in the TUCC sanctuary. I love that church! I reconnected with a member that I used to mentor alongside, I saw my boy who plays drums for the choir, and saw one of my grammar school teachers, Ms. Tripplett. She was still as fly as ever!
After church, I went to scoop my girl Mama So, and headed North to have tapas with The Ghandi's, MoMo and the CEO. It turned out to be quite eventful due to the topics of conversation, but all in all, we had a good time. Once again, I had to trek back to the woods....ooh wee, that's a drive, but it must not have worn on me too bad, becuz, I stopped by Stella's crib to see her beautiful chillun'. Please note though, that she too lives in the woods so I was close to home.
Monday and Tuesday I TRIED to slow it down. Monday, The Lady and I went downtown and afterwards we hit up the Harold's on 87th Street so I could have my fix, a Gizzard and Wing combo, mild and hot sauce, with salt and pepper. Hood Scrumptious! I then went to visit Grandad and Emo. No sign of the little brother though; he was in the streets. Later that night, I went to have a drink with MoMo. She and I went to Parc 52, our friend MBB's spot in The HP. We sat at the bar and had great girl talk. Girl talk is excellent sometimes, like when there is no game on! LOL! Once again, back to the woods for a good nights rest. But not before I stopped by a lounge where my girl Stella was hanging for a colleague's birthday celebration. One thing about The Chi, the lounges are poppin', and I aspire to be a Lounge Lizard, or Lounge Beyotch (as I like to say), so any time spent inside one is time well spent, in my book.
Tuesday, I had breakfast with The Mouth of the Southside (she knows who she is), and then headed into the city to the old neighborhood (London Towne) for a visit with my second Mom, T Maxx. Next I headed to The Lady's crib again for one last visit, and my cousin, Pretty Black, brought her boys by. They are so cute! To end the day, I went to Papa's house and we ordered pizza, drank brew, read the paper, and watched that (B)ubba, (E)d and (T)ed reality show about those LA kids in the Hills. Lights out.
Wednesday, my final day, I basically hung out with Papa. We went to run some errands, ate breakfast, and stopped by Mama So's parents house to see her and her boys. I had not seen those boys in about two years and they just amaze me; they are so nice and are growing by leaps and bounds. It was good to see her Mom and Dad too!
I took a shuttle from the burbs to O'Hare and my Papa's quest to get me there on time was like being in Talladega Nights or something because he was driving like a cannonball on fire.
I am back in LaLa now, completely and utterly exhausted and a little sad, because I'm coming down off my amazing home "high". Its like I'm living Stevie W's "Rocket Love".
In the midst of this whirlwind, I missed a few B Days. Happy Born Day to JM, Moose, EY, and JC! Please forgive and charge it to the game!
I'll catch y'all in a day or two. Promise. A Squirrel's gotta get her bearings.
The Maven
6.15.2008
In Honor of Papa
Today is Father's Day. By the grace of God, I happen to have the coolest Cat Daddy on EARTH, for a father. Unfortunately, we are not able to spend the day together, as I am home in Cali and he is in Florida for a work-related conference.
In honor of my Papa, I am enjoying his favorite work of art - Jazz music. He is especially fond of John Coltrane, thus my very own affinity for all things "Trane". As I am writing now, Sonny Rollins and Thelonious Monk are playing "I Want To Be Happy"; so apropos.
My Dad and I represent the epitome of a father-daughter relationship. Our initials are the same, with my first name being a derivative of his, and my middle name is that of the daughter of a well known jazz musician. Papa is by all accounts, my first love, most certainly one of my best friends and definitely along with The Lady, my staunchest supporter.
I could not imagine what type of woman I would be, were it not for his guidance, love and lessons. Papa is a Virgo, and if you know Virgo's then you're aware of how determined and direct they can be. Papa is King of the lecture (he once lectured one of my boyfriend's on our front step about bringing me home after curfew). I've been getting lectured for as long as I can remember, and although I sometimes tire of them, I appreciate them nonetheless, especially since they are highlighted by his distinct, silky smooth dialect. The Lady (Mom) laughs at me because no one is better at imitating him than I. I can never repeat something he has said without using "the voice", it wouldn't have the same effect. For those of you that know Papa, now is your time chuckle.
When I was a little girl, we were attached at the hip. We used to share lots of laughs and junk food (i.e. Twinkies and Suzy Q's). One of my fondest memories is riding in the car with him, listening to, you guessed it.....JAZZ!
We would take a ride to River Oaks (a mall) or spin on Lake Shore Drive, windows down, music blaring with sweet, warm Chicago breezes kissing our faces. On the weekends, when I might sleep in, I would awake to the sound of Papa's music outside because he played it while washing his car. When I got to H.S., I would often stop by his downtown office on my way home, and hear him fuss for "coming up on my jooobbbb"! Secretly, I know he was happy to see me! Sometimes, we would ride the train home or if he had driven, we might stop by Granny Helen's house on the way to the crib, to say hello.
Papa is set to retire this fall and I know he is a bit anxious. He speaks about moving to California, but only time will tell. I want to let him know that I am so proud to have him as my Dad and I am so grateful for all the sacrifices he made along with The Lady, in order for me to have an amazing childhood. Thank you, for continuing to be there for me, even now. You always offer encouragement and wise words. I also want to take this time to apologize for blowing your hard earned cash while away at college. My bad (Smiles).
With Love,
The Maven
5.22.2008
It's Raining!
It's raining in Santa Monica! I can't tell you how thrilled and happy I am! My mood just did a 180. It's game time and I'm enjoying a crisp glass of Pinot Grigio with my front door wide open! I just love, love, love the rain. It smells SO DAMN FRESH! I have a fond memory of my grandmother Honey and I dancing in the rain out in front of she and my mom's houses. Classic!
Rain is a luxury here in LA. So imagine my excitement when the sky turned and ominous gray and thunder began to roll!
I'll let Sergio Mendes and Brazil '66 express just how I'm feelin'.........
Rain is a luxury here in LA. So imagine my excitement when the sky turned and ominous gray and thunder began to roll!
I'll let Sergio Mendes and Brazil '66 express just how I'm feelin'.........
5.20.2008
5.14.2008
Hump Day Music - Steveland Morris Edition
Stevie Wonder was born May 13, 1950, one week after my momma. I was raised on Stevie. His vinyl was a mainstay in our household and I spent many hours in the basement listening to him, not always understanding what he was saying, but feeling something deep and meaningful nonetheless.
During the holidays, I used to play his Christmas album religiously. I was a lonely teardrop (only child) so the song "One Little Christmas Tree" was my jam. Choked me up every time. :)
When I was in grammar school, eighth grade to be exact, I distinctly remember listening to Journey through the Secret Life of Plants. The song "Black Orchid" haunted me in such a way that I used to play it over and over, crying, because it reassured me that black was amazingly beautiful, special and kind. I imagined that my entire graduating class sang it together at our commencement ceremony (yes, I'm a cornball). To this day, I zone sometimes zone out to Stevie just to clear my head. I could listen to him for days.
The timeless classic album, Songs in the Key of Life STAYS on my Ipod, and through the years, I've collected just about all of his offerings. The beauty of Stevie Wonder is somewhat indescribable. How do you define a man who has contributed and dedicated so much love to his craft? Have you ever checked his resume? It's one thing for him to create crown jewels for himself, but he has laced some of our favorite classic artists with unforgettable hits. He co-wrote or wrote "Tears of a Clown" with Smokey Robinson, "Perfect Angel" for Minnie Riperton, "Tell Me Something Good" for Rufus and Chaka Khan , "I Can't Help It" for Michael Jackson, and produced "Try Jah Love" for Third World (just to name a few). He loved Syreeta Wright so much that he did an entire album for her, titled Stevie Wonder presents Syreeta Wright! Any Stevie purist should own it. You would be amazed at the number of songs we love and cherish that were touched by the genius of this man.
People who know me really well, understand and share my appreciation for Stevie's music. I didn't dig in the crates too deeply, but in honor of his birthday, I share with you some of my favorites. Indulge.......
Ummmmmmm.....I may have gotten a little carried away, but you understand! LOL!!!!
During the holidays, I used to play his Christmas album religiously. I was a lonely teardrop (only child) so the song "One Little Christmas Tree" was my jam. Choked me up every time. :)
When I was in grammar school, eighth grade to be exact, I distinctly remember listening to Journey through the Secret Life of Plants. The song "Black Orchid" haunted me in such a way that I used to play it over and over, crying, because it reassured me that black was amazingly beautiful, special and kind. I imagined that my entire graduating class sang it together at our commencement ceremony (yes, I'm a cornball). To this day, I zone sometimes zone out to Stevie just to clear my head. I could listen to him for days.
The timeless classic album, Songs in the Key of Life STAYS on my Ipod, and through the years, I've collected just about all of his offerings. The beauty of Stevie Wonder is somewhat indescribable. How do you define a man who has contributed and dedicated so much love to his craft? Have you ever checked his resume? It's one thing for him to create crown jewels for himself, but he has laced some of our favorite classic artists with unforgettable hits. He co-wrote or wrote "Tears of a Clown" with Smokey Robinson, "Perfect Angel" for Minnie Riperton, "Tell Me Something Good" for Rufus and Chaka Khan , "I Can't Help It" for Michael Jackson, and produced "Try Jah Love" for Third World (just to name a few). He loved Syreeta Wright so much that he did an entire album for her, titled Stevie Wonder presents Syreeta Wright! Any Stevie purist should own it. You would be amazed at the number of songs we love and cherish that were touched by the genius of this man.
People who know me really well, understand and share my appreciation for Stevie's music. I didn't dig in the crates too deeply, but in honor of his birthday, I share with you some of my favorites. Indulge.......
Ummmmmmm.....I may have gotten a little carried away, but you understand! LOL!!!!
5.10.2008
In Honor of The Lady
There is a scene in the movie The Joy Luck Club, where the main character, June, tells a story to a little girl about a feather and a mother's good intentions. The story speaks to the core of a mother's love for her child. I've seen this movie countless times, and each time I watch it this scene sticks out as one that touches me deeply. Although I've yet to cross the threshold of motherhood, I am certain that when God's blessing pours upon me in that way, I will be more than ready. I say this so boldly because I have the greatest mother in the world, a shining example of womanhood and humanity.
I call her Ladyjane and here on the blog, I always refer to her as "The Lady". My mother and I have become great friends over the years, which is one of the greatest points in a mother-daughter relationship. She celebrates my victories, gives me a shoulder to cry on when I'm hurt, shares in my secrets, and laughs along with me when I'm in a silly mood. She taught me to accept and love myself in spite of what others had to say. You see, I used to catch the blues as a child. I was a late bloomer in every sense of the phrase. The Lady made sure I knew that it was okay to look like Olive Oyl, have nappy hair, and brown skin.
I want to thank her for her many sacrifices throughout the years. As I become older, I understand the magnitude of those sacrifices more and more. My parents married at a young age, and my mom gave birth to me at a young age. I realize that all the things she allowed and encouraged me to do as I was growing up, are perhaps things she didn't get to experience because I was hanging off her ta ta's. She afforded me dance lessons, AWANA Club, summer camps, road trips, enhanced educational experiences and tools, braces, my first car.....I could go on, but you get the point.
Our mother's want nothing but the best for us, but most of all, I believe, they want us to avoid their pitfalls, mistakes, heartaches, and disappointments. They often wish they could take our places, to shield us from life's harshness. Over the years they fed us, clothed us, disciplined us, educated us, and loved our dirty "draws", all in the hopes that we'd turn out to be respectable and productive.
I'd like to let The Lady know that she prepared me well, I'm proud that she is my mom and I do my best not to embarrass her when I'm out in the streets!
Happy Mother's Day, girl!
The Maven
4.01.2008
Thank You, Kanye
When Kanye West released the album, Graduation, "Homecoming" was instantly one of my faves. Shout to Chris Martin for adding the icing (smiles).
This cut takes me back to the "City of Wind" with the fondest of memories. In this video, you see the infamous Chicago skyline, a housing development on State Street, The Dusable Museum, The Tribune Building, Michigan Avenue, Soldier Field, the "L" , winter bare trees, chocolate city-worn faces, The Chicago River, Cloud Gate at Millineum Park aka The Bean , and the ever increasingly handsome, Common.
I have to say that growing up in Chicago was an immeasurable blessing and an unparallel experience.
This video is a wonderful ode to the city. Job well done Kanye!
The Maven
3.25.2008
On Fear and Living
Good Morning America is my morning show of choice, I wake up to it daily. One of the featured segments today, was an in studio interview with Demi Moore. She spoke about her family and her new movie "Flawless" with Michael Cain. At the end of the interview, Diane asked her what her biggest flaw was. Demi's response stopped me in my tracks. According to her, her biggest flaw is "how much I can allow fear to dictate in my life." "Still?” Diane asked. Demi answered, "Yeah, because, it’s truly I think, a constant overcoming".
I relate to her feelings about fear on so many levels. It has proven to be a great hindrance in my life. I can only imagine where I might be in my journey were it not for fear. Fear of what, you ask? Well, I'm still working that one out. However, I recognize that I am the obstacle that stands in my way. It’s been said that admission and acceptance is half the battle.
So begins my fight.
Am I afraid of success? Am I afraid of true love? Am I afraid of not being "good enough"? Am I afraid of rejection? Failure? Losing? These are questions that I've been posing to myself and the answers, my friends, are not pretty. Certainly, we all have our own insecurities, but they are not always crippling, like say for instance, my fear of water. You see, I cannot swim. The Lady enrolled me in swim class as a child and the instructor (for lack of a better term) insisted that I travel to the bottom of the pool to retrieve a set of keys he purposely dropped. I remember that day vividly. I stood there shaking and trembling, teeth chattering, looking up into the stands for The Lady, hoping she would rush down and spare me the humiliation. It didn't happen that way, of course and as a matter of fact, I think that all parents were restricted from the pool area during class; they could only watch from the bleachers. There are times when your parents have to let you take your lumps. So, I had to take my turn. With timidity and FEAR, I went under the water to get those damn keys. Panic ensued and water was in my mouth and nose, I was flailing and crying and terrified. I could tell the instructor was annoyed, but class continued and I sat poolside, sniffling, whimpering, and wrapped in my towel, until it was over. After class, The Lady came down and got me, and promised me that I didn't have to return. I suppose this is part of the reason why I get testy and standoffish when people push me to do things I don't want to do.
Last summer, at my friend Jenny's house, we were enjoying a lovely summer day, bar-b-queing and having a great time. I got in the pool, on the shallow end, to play with the kids and "take some lessons" from them. Another adult offered to give me a few pointers and I trust him so I followed his lead. Everything was fine until a guest of the party, a stranger to me, decided to come down and grab me to drag me to the deep end. Not a good look. I became that little girl again. I was terrified, only this time I also became enraged and I had my hand around his neck with the intent to crush his windpipe. With my free hand I was swinging at him and begging him to let me go. Finally, I screamed and my girl Dan Belle jumped in to save me, and as they lifted me out of the pool, I was cryin' and cussin'. Our friend Alex had to tell the dude that I could not swim, and he tried to apologize, but it was too late. I was hearing none of that.
In my adult life, I see this fear of "drowning" manifest itself in so many ways. Some days I am fierce and determined, even brave. Those who are closest to me will be the first to say that I am courageous and bold. They use my move to LA as an example. It took a lot of guts to pack up my things and move here with no plan. Looking back, it was not a bright idea, but it worked, and is one of my proudest accomplishments. It essentially removed me from my comfort zone and forced me to be great. Prior to moving here I had an idea of how I wanted things to be, it was a fairytale of sorts, but in so many ways it actually happened. I got the right job, met the right people, had the support of my cousins, made a few friends, and from there everything took off. Six years later, I'm still here. Like Derek Luke's character says in Antwone Fisher, "I'm still standing, I'm still strong." But some days, I have doubts.
I don't want fear to rule nor ruin my life. I can point to a few things that have already suffered because of it. I was once a model, I can still crush a runway, but I was afraid to leave the states and go overseas, where I might have fared a lot better. I once hosted and produced my own sports show for local cable access in Chicago. The show was popular, and I was very good at it. I had plans to attend broadcasting school and become the first black female sports anchor in the city. Ask me what happened..........fear happened. Who knows, I might be like Pam Oliver, Lisa Salters or Suzy Kolber right now, holding it down on set or on the sidelines.
Two friends, both very special to me, have addressed this issue with me on separate occasions. They said things to me that I carry with me on a daily basis. One said, Maven, “fear is not an emotion that comes from God. Don’t give it energy” and the other shared with me a quote I believe he learned while pledging (Omega), it says “Fear is a mind-killer. It's a tiny little evil that envelops me from the inside out. I must face it and learn to control it”. Both of these guys are strong in my mind, they each have incredible stories for which I admire and celebrate them.
I think about my late Grandmothers when I am afraid or down on myself. They lived long, colorful lives, battled their own demons, and came out triumphant in the end. I think about other people who have touched my life, but since passed away, and I know they are looking down on me, always wishing for my success and well-being. I think about my parents, The Lady and Papa, who sacrifice for me, encourage me, and are my biggest cheerleaders, and although my father cautions me not to compare myself to others or measure my successes and failures by that of others, I can’t help but think about my best friends and their journeys and accomplishments; they make me so proud.
If you are out there doing “the damn thing”, I say keep doing it. You never know who is watching you or looking to you for inspiration.
As for me, I plan to learn to swim this summer. I consider it my first step toward overcoming my fears. And maybe while I'm taking my adult lessons, some child who is also learning, but is afraid will see me and it will become ok for them. I’ll keep you posted.
The Maven
I relate to her feelings about fear on so many levels. It has proven to be a great hindrance in my life. I can only imagine where I might be in my journey were it not for fear. Fear of what, you ask? Well, I'm still working that one out. However, I recognize that I am the obstacle that stands in my way. It’s been said that admission and acceptance is half the battle.
So begins my fight.
Am I afraid of success? Am I afraid of true love? Am I afraid of not being "good enough"? Am I afraid of rejection? Failure? Losing? These are questions that I've been posing to myself and the answers, my friends, are not pretty. Certainly, we all have our own insecurities, but they are not always crippling, like say for instance, my fear of water. You see, I cannot swim. The Lady enrolled me in swim class as a child and the instructor (for lack of a better term) insisted that I travel to the bottom of the pool to retrieve a set of keys he purposely dropped. I remember that day vividly. I stood there shaking and trembling, teeth chattering, looking up into the stands for The Lady, hoping she would rush down and spare me the humiliation. It didn't happen that way, of course and as a matter of fact, I think that all parents were restricted from the pool area during class; they could only watch from the bleachers. There are times when your parents have to let you take your lumps. So, I had to take my turn. With timidity and FEAR, I went under the water to get those damn keys. Panic ensued and water was in my mouth and nose, I was flailing and crying and terrified. I could tell the instructor was annoyed, but class continued and I sat poolside, sniffling, whimpering, and wrapped in my towel, until it was over. After class, The Lady came down and got me, and promised me that I didn't have to return. I suppose this is part of the reason why I get testy and standoffish when people push me to do things I don't want to do.
Last summer, at my friend Jenny's house, we were enjoying a lovely summer day, bar-b-queing and having a great time. I got in the pool, on the shallow end, to play with the kids and "take some lessons" from them. Another adult offered to give me a few pointers and I trust him so I followed his lead. Everything was fine until a guest of the party, a stranger to me, decided to come down and grab me to drag me to the deep end. Not a good look. I became that little girl again. I was terrified, only this time I also became enraged and I had my hand around his neck with the intent to crush his windpipe. With my free hand I was swinging at him and begging him to let me go. Finally, I screamed and my girl Dan Belle jumped in to save me, and as they lifted me out of the pool, I was cryin' and cussin'. Our friend Alex had to tell the dude that I could not swim, and he tried to apologize, but it was too late. I was hearing none of that.
In my adult life, I see this fear of "drowning" manifest itself in so many ways. Some days I am fierce and determined, even brave. Those who are closest to me will be the first to say that I am courageous and bold. They use my move to LA as an example. It took a lot of guts to pack up my things and move here with no plan. Looking back, it was not a bright idea, but it worked, and is one of my proudest accomplishments. It essentially removed me from my comfort zone and forced me to be great. Prior to moving here I had an idea of how I wanted things to be, it was a fairytale of sorts, but in so many ways it actually happened. I got the right job, met the right people, had the support of my cousins, made a few friends, and from there everything took off. Six years later, I'm still here. Like Derek Luke's character says in Antwone Fisher, "I'm still standing, I'm still strong." But some days, I have doubts.
I don't want fear to rule nor ruin my life. I can point to a few things that have already suffered because of it. I was once a model, I can still crush a runway, but I was afraid to leave the states and go overseas, where I might have fared a lot better. I once hosted and produced my own sports show for local cable access in Chicago. The show was popular, and I was very good at it. I had plans to attend broadcasting school and become the first black female sports anchor in the city. Ask me what happened..........fear happened. Who knows, I might be like Pam Oliver, Lisa Salters or Suzy Kolber right now, holding it down on set or on the sidelines.
Two friends, both very special to me, have addressed this issue with me on separate occasions. They said things to me that I carry with me on a daily basis. One said, Maven, “fear is not an emotion that comes from God. Don’t give it energy” and the other shared with me a quote I believe he learned while pledging (Omega), it says “Fear is a mind-killer. It's a tiny little evil that envelops me from the inside out. I must face it and learn to control it”. Both of these guys are strong in my mind, they each have incredible stories for which I admire and celebrate them.
I think about my late Grandmothers when I am afraid or down on myself. They lived long, colorful lives, battled their own demons, and came out triumphant in the end. I think about other people who have touched my life, but since passed away, and I know they are looking down on me, always wishing for my success and well-being. I think about my parents, The Lady and Papa, who sacrifice for me, encourage me, and are my biggest cheerleaders, and although my father cautions me not to compare myself to others or measure my successes and failures by that of others, I can’t help but think about my best friends and their journeys and accomplishments; they make me so proud.
If you are out there doing “the damn thing”, I say keep doing it. You never know who is watching you or looking to you for inspiration.
As for me, I plan to learn to swim this summer. I consider it my first step toward overcoming my fears. And maybe while I'm taking my adult lessons, some child who is also learning, but is afraid will see me and it will become ok for them. I’ll keep you posted.
The Maven
3.12.2008
Hungarian Goulash
Today, an elderly man, a self-proclaimed "Hungarian Jew", dressed in head-to-toe L.A. Laker gear, the largest headphones I've ever seen, and toting two testy Pomeranians, stopped me in front of the Post Office to discuss politics. **Crickets**
As one who has a very soft spot for senior citizens, I reluctantly engaged in this unsolicited conversation. He began by asking me my thoughts on Gerri Ferraro's comments about Senator Obama's perceived racial advantage. He seemed to want me to be as outraged as he portrayed himself to be. In no uncertain terms, he felt Ms. Ferraro was wrong in her assessment. I simply told him that I believe she spoke from her own insecurities about gender and power, at which he nodded, and then commented on how insightful I was. He then goes on to tell me how unlike most folks like him, he understands "the black experience", having family members who were victims of Nazi Germany, and having once lived on 35Th and "Shaw" when he was a car salesman. I asked him to clarify "Shaw" for me, at which time I learned that he was speaking of Crenshaw Boulevard, "you know, the HOOD." Deep sigh. More **Crickets**
He then jumps to the subject of Michelle Obama, and gets a little boiled over her comments about her first time being proud of the country, yada yada, yada. He goes on about how she has benefited from Affirmative Action and how she, herself, supposedly admitted to having been an average student (I don't know anything about this) and that she was able to obtain an Ivy League education because of Affirmative Action, and he had a 4.0 GPA and didn't get "ushered" in like her, so how dare she yada, yada, yada.
He also pointed out how much money she and Barack were making, which to me had no place in our, I mean , HIS conversation. I finally told him, that Michelle's comments, while perhaps not properly delivered, were very relevant, and I understood EXACTLY what she meant. He wanted to know how I could agree when she has benefited so greatly in this country. So........I informed him that he never has, nor ever will live her American life, and that I, being closer to her in age than he was (obviously), equal to her in gender, similar to her in the "black womanhood experience", AND the South Side of Chicago experience, could better identify with her statement. Again he expressed his delight in my insight, then told me I was a smart girl. Surprise! I politely excused myself, told him to (kick rocks) have a nice day and continued on about my business.
Everything happens for a reason. Respect your elders.
As one who has a very soft spot for senior citizens, I reluctantly engaged in this unsolicited conversation. He began by asking me my thoughts on Gerri Ferraro's comments about Senator Obama's perceived racial advantage. He seemed to want me to be as outraged as he portrayed himself to be. In no uncertain terms, he felt Ms. Ferraro was wrong in her assessment. I simply told him that I believe she spoke from her own insecurities about gender and power, at which he nodded, and then commented on how insightful I was. He then goes on to tell me how unlike most folks like him, he understands "the black experience", having family members who were victims of Nazi Germany, and having once lived on 35Th and "Shaw" when he was a car salesman. I asked him to clarify "Shaw" for me, at which time I learned that he was speaking of Crenshaw Boulevard, "you know, the HOOD." Deep sigh. More **Crickets**
He then jumps to the subject of Michelle Obama, and gets a little boiled over her comments about her first time being proud of the country, yada yada, yada. He goes on about how she has benefited from Affirmative Action and how she, herself, supposedly admitted to having been an average student (I don't know anything about this) and that she was able to obtain an Ivy League education because of Affirmative Action, and he had a 4.0 GPA and didn't get "ushered" in like her, so how dare she yada, yada, yada.
He also pointed out how much money she and Barack were making, which to me had no place in our, I mean , HIS conversation. I finally told him, that Michelle's comments, while perhaps not properly delivered, were very relevant, and I understood EXACTLY what she meant. He wanted to know how I could agree when she has benefited so greatly in this country. So........I informed him that he never has, nor ever will live her American life, and that I, being closer to her in age than he was (obviously), equal to her in gender, similar to her in the "black womanhood experience", AND the South Side of Chicago experience, could better identify with her statement. Again he expressed his delight in my insight, then told me I was a smart girl. Surprise! I politely excused myself, told him to (kick rocks) have a nice day and continued on about my business.
Everything happens for a reason. Respect your elders.
Hump Day Music: Obama Edition 3
1608. That number represents Barack's delegate count after decisively taking Wyomimg and the M-I-CROOKED LETTER.
I love how he's cool as a cucumber, don't you?
Anderson Cooper will be profiling Michelle tonight on CNN. Check your local listings.
I think today's HUMP DAY MUSIC selection is perfect. I wonder if Hillary can feel it? HaHA!
Press play.
I love how he's cool as a cucumber, don't you?
Anderson Cooper will be profiling Michelle tonight on CNN. Check your local listings.
I think today's HUMP DAY MUSIC selection is perfect. I wonder if Hillary can feel it? HaHA!
Press play.
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