Speaking on Our Thoughts...

let me get the following things straight, so everybody knows. this is where i am at this point in my life, and i reserve the right to evolve, unlike most of the freakin' fanatics on both sides of the political spectrum.

* i was raised by both a strong mother and father. my mother is a Queen Mother, who never took any crap off anyone, yet maintains a demeanor that is peaceful and loving. i am a fan and respecter of strong women.

* i am politically an independent. i don't count myself in either column, Democrat or Republican, because both have been capable of wrecking havoc on the people.

* i've been known to be a good speaker. i'd say i'm decent, always striving to be better. more importantly, i've trained speakers; trained them to speak earnestly and directly. so i can tell when people are full of crap.

* i published a newspaper for 11 years, and have worked in radio for going on 2 decades. i know all about the process of "spinning" things for the media, and boy, is the political world spinning.

that said, here are some thoughts:

i'm about sick of polls, pundits, and polemics. this election has gotten out of hand. i've listened to both sides. i've tried to hear, not just listen, but man, it's gotten hard, especially as it relates to the direction the election has taken lately, led and trumpeted by the Republicans, particularly the McCain organization--if it can be called that.

we've got to keep things real here, people. i'm sitting here watching (or trying to watch the Republican convention). John McCain is doing his best Barack Obama imitation (look at my bracelet i'm wearing for the dead kid, we're going to stop giving money to countries who don't like us, i respect the other side, blah blah puke puke), and doing his normal horrible, disingenuous read of the teleprompter in an annoyingly sing-songy voice. this stuff has gotten old. quickly.


THE STEPFORD WHITE HOUSE?

has anyone seen that movie, "The Stepford Wives?" if not, don't worry, when you do, it'll look familiar if you've been watching the news lately. whether it is Cindy McCain, Gov. Palin, the Republican "Experts" on CNN and MSNBC (if you watch Fox, you deserve that insanity), all of them have been coached by the same Zombie Speaker Coach:

"Okay...let's go over this again...Eyes bright, directly into camera, pasted smile no matter what...Read. Pause. Smile. Read. Pause. Smile. Oh, and the pause is to wait for the applause. now we don't have an applause light, but eventually people will get the point. don't worry if you forget, we will put 'pause. smile' in the teleprompter, just DON'T READ THOSE WORDS IF YOU SEE THEM IN PARENTHESIS!! if you are in an interview, remember: if they ask about Palin's lack of experience, point to Barack Obama, if they counter with Joe Biden, accuse them of being sexist. but SMILE the entire time, and if they throw something logical out, then just accuse them of being sexist and talk in a long, stream of consciousness rant on John McCain's scars and service until they cut away from you."

does that sum it up pretty well?

We know...We KNOW...WE KNOW ABOUT THE P.O.W. Experience...

a book. a TV movie. a first presidential run. interviews. the black and white footage. i'm not belittling the experience, but i just have to say, from a person representing a party who want us to "get over" slavery, "get over" the 1960s, "get over" poverty, "get over" everything. but we can't "get over" the story that keeps getting more and more added to it with each PR opportunity. we can't hear about the people over here right now who are crying every day about their screwed up present situation because we are being milked to shed tears for something that happened decades ago. we all have friends, uncles, cousins, people in the neighborhood, etc., who just "ain't been right" since Vietnam because they were abused by fellow Americans or they have a plate in their head. they're told to get over it. can we all either make the agreement to invoke the past for present guilt or leave it all alone. one or the other? cool?

"AMERICA FIRST?"

what the hell does THAT mean? i've heard "our country," "we are americans," "our forefathers," juxtaposed to "Senator Obama and his Supporters." meditate on that and tell me what you think.

A HICK-HOP SHAME...

ok. Cowboy Troy. do i have to say it? that Negro stood on stage looking like Stepinfetchit with his hat in his hand, interjecting an unnecessary broken version of the pledge of allegiance while two country singers crooned the National Anthem like two flea-bitten cats in an alley trying to out-do each other with cries of hunger. he looked like a fool. i'll say it again:

he looked like a fool.

no disrespect to the guy (that he already hasn't brought upon himself), because i don't know him, but he looked like a 1950's Uncle Remus character. my only hope is that he can feed more of his family with whatever benefits he got from laying his ancestral manhood on the sacrificial altar of unpopular American politics.


THE CONTRADICTIONS...

i won't even go into it. all i'll say is, how do you accuse Barack of being all about himself, when you play a song about yourself--yourself only--at the end of your speech?

i'm gonna ask this frankly: if Barack had a teen-age, pregnant, unmarried daughter, standing on the stage behind him, what do you think the response would be from the media and everyone else? meditate on that and you'll understand the power of spin.

i didn't hear anything new tonight. no specifics. just barbs. now can logical people see how contradictory that spin is?

in summary, i really feel that we stand on the cusp of a new kind of politics or an old kind of politics that will break us down. the stakes are so high that they are either uplifting or utterly depressing. my prayer is that The Creator and forces of nature will guide this thing toward the hopeful. if not, we'll have to act the way we have the last 8 years.

and THAT is WHACK.

you may have thought i wasn't doing the blog thing. truth is, i was trying to, but the doggone site was frustrating me because it wouldn't publish. being, the techno-phile i only long to be, it took me a while to figure it out, but i did, so now i can run my mouth and share perspectives on the world and everything else.

whew.

for a moment, i thought i was going to delete all this stuff, and that would have freaked me out.

it's a pretty decent looking saturday, so i'm going to get out in the world today. there's a lot of work to be done, for sure. i'm painting some of the exterior windows on my house and wondering how much i should invest in an extension ladder. i think i'll paint the windows closest to the ground and leave the extension thing to some cat who lives on one every day, as opposed to occasionally like yours truly. the last guy my ex-wife hired to paint the house streaked the bricks with white paint--that ain't cute. anyone know how to get that stuff off??

anyhow, i'm gonna jump outta here. my daughter just came in and said "good morning." in this world of teen-dom, that's a HUGE deal!

"How Blak" went off successfully at The Belcourt Theater. we had a really good crowd and everyone was enthusiastic. i had a fabulous stage crew who made every component rock. i did my best to bring it all and leave it all on the stage. when the show was over, i felt beat up, beat down, and beat around.

mission accomplished.

and now to the future. this indepednent lifestyle is a challenge, to say the least. aside from the mundane matters of existence like bills, bills, and more bills, the challeng is to keep growing, keep building for something higher. in the program for the show, i quote Langston Hughes from The Negro Artist and The Racial Mountain (1926):


"We younger Negro artists who create now intend to express our individual, dark-skinned selves without fear or shame. If white people are pleased we are glad. If they are not, it doesn't matter. We know we are beautiful. And ugly too. If colored people are pleased we are glad. If they are not, their displeasure doesn't matter either. We build our temples for tomorrow, strong as we know how, and we stand on the top of the mountain, free within ourselves."

it sums up what keeps me going, when i reach these spaces--gaps if you will--where something major has been accomplished on a mountain of freedom, and i now face a valley where i have to survey which mountain is next--and that is the challenge. for i suppose i am a climber of mountains as well as a weaver of dreams. all artists are. we look at the landscape of reality, and imagine how we can first build, and then conquer mountains on the horizon. why do we do this? is it just for the challenge of accomplishment? does it feed us spiritually to see things in any way but an ordinary one? is it some inherent masochism that is simply woven into the DNA of the artistic soul? apparently, we can't help ourselves, so we may as well attack the task at hand fearlessly.

for when we reach those landings, and we breathe the pure air of accomplishment, the payoff comes. we sigh a sigh of relief and acceptance, and smile around at those who marvel at the sheer gall of our cause. "why in the world did you climb that mountain," they ask from their cubicle of safety and security.

we smile confidently, triumphantly, and think back on all the trials we faced in our quest to rise above the mediocre, to the pinnacle of possibility, and we'll reply, frankly:

because it was there.

today is the day i emerged from my Mother's womb, involuntarily so, which is probably why i seek so much for the spiritual sense of heaven that i once physically experienced as a fetus inside such a safe and peaceful haven.

yeah, it's my birthday.

and for some reason, it's hard for me to get "up" for it. i even wonder why i should. don't get the brother wrong, i am so thankful for being able to be on this earth, to work toward my goals, to love on my daughter and family and friends for another year. but as for parties and celebrations and dinners and all of that?

i haven't been feeling all that the last few years. i used to study the works of Dr. Josef A. A. Ben-Jochannon. he was controversial, outspoken, loud, belligerent, and wise as all get out. i went to Kemet with him the first time around, and it was revelatory. one day, when i was a young man, Doc Ben pointed out that we as African people have been so screwed up by western thought that we get things backwards, like Birthdays. he pointed out that on our day of birth, we did absolutely nothing. it was our MOTHERS who suffered through 9 months of body changes. it was our MOTHERS who labored for hours through misery and strife to bring us down into the birth canal. it was our MOTHERS who endured the pains of death to bring us into this world. so in the frankest terms:

our Birthday should be a celebration of our Mother's accomplishment.

made sense to me, and maybe that's what turned me. years ago, i started thanking my mother for giving birth to me; for the hard work and courage she displayed so many years ago.

and now, on my Birthdays, i just can't seem to make a big deal about myself. i've always spent a lot of time trying to make other people happy--co-workers, women, wives, etc. i believe in the success of people around me and i believe it's the way we are supposed to live life. yet, even on my Birh-day/Earth-day, i find myself doing for others as they do for me. odd, huh? maybe it's because on that one day, i want to go find my beautiful Mom, give my heartfelt thanks, then...

disappear.

i mean disappear. go find a park or water and just think about The Creator, try to remember what my grandmother's hands looked like, recall how slim my deceased Uncles were sans beer guts and reflect on how i may have hope for not being overweight one day--especially since i'm not a beer drinker. good stuff like that.

but the phone rings. the texts come. the people who earnestly want to help me celebrate "my day" come around. and i'm thankful, and grateful to have people in my life who want to celebrate me.

what happens when i'm not wanting to celebrate me, though? now, i do NOT have a complex. i'm not saying "omigod i'm a worthless rag of sin" and all that bullshit. i'm just saying, sometimes you need some reflection time so that you can understand who "me" is; so that you can remember the coordinates of "me island" in the swirling river of humanity; so that you can be even more grateful and loving to the people around you that are loved so much for all they give.

one of these birthdays, i'm gonna disappear--head to a foreign land, or the ghetto (same thing in some cities), and spend a day busting my butt helping out some people, after a morning of long meditation. then another day, i'm gonna do all that massage-ish/get your toenails cut off stuff; then another one, i'm gonna get naked and sit on a screen-in porch (i was gonna run outside, but man, bugs are crazy in this day and age and if i get all bit up and i go somewhere and am scratching every part of my body no one will want to talk to me).

but as for today, i'll enjoy the fact that i slept in. i just called a buddy of mine and asked him to go get a french press coffee with me (Yeah!); i'll scoop my daughter back up from her visit at her mom's and attach her to my hip for the rest of the day; i'll go to an early dinner at one of my favorite spots with some family and friends; maybe, just maybe, i'll make it out to the park tonight for the bi-weekly Big Band Dance and hear some decent swing, maybe convince my kid to have a dance or two with her corny old pops. that'd be cool.

for now, i hear the magic sounds of my yard man attacking the edges of the house with the weedeater. i'll be able to walk outside into a pretty darned clean yard without being worried a snake will slither across my pathway. what a birthday gift--although i have to pay for it. i wonder if i tell the yard man it's my birthday, he'll smile and say "Well, Damnit! it's on the house then, anything for you!"

now THAT would really be a great Birthday gift...