I went to "Get my praise on" with Deb yesterday and it was amazing. Divine, actually. It was the first time I have ventured into a church just to go in over a decade, maybe even more. I wasn't even married in a church. I did that at the "We've only just begun" wedding chapel. Don't go there. Statistically, the average American marriage lasts 7 years. I nearly doubled that.
I did have my kids baptized in a church and they continued Sunday school and even their educations in parochial schools, but I've always kept my distance. I have many reasons for it. The primary excuse I used was that I was born a Baptist, raised Lutheran, educated Catholic and chose to be baptized Episcopal and even with that, during college, I experimented with Buddism, and currently I enjoy reading about Islam and Kabbalah. Not because they happen to be the thing to do. I've had the books I'm reading on the subjects for over a decade too...but more so because I'm at a point in life when defining my higher power has greater meaning for me.
So when Debbie asked me to go to church, I hmmm'd and ha'd and said "Sure" but I wasn't certain I would really commit and go. I told her I would see how I felt. That's me code for, "Girl, it depends if I'm sleeping in or not". To Debbie's credit, she knows me well. She sent an email to all of my email accounts and left a message on my cell phone and landline that said, 'We're going to get our praise on tomorrow. I'll pick you up at 10". Well, no room for no.
It worked. I was dressesd and re'd to go and prime to get my God on when she arrived. The church itself is a large building that could easily pass for a community center, which really makes sense. The Church she attends more closely resembles one that you would find lower on the Mason-Dixon and yes, there were theatrics, but ya know when someone gets the spirit, I say, "It's your thang, do what ya wanna do. I can't tell ya how to catch a groove". I do the Salt N Pepa version because that's just my GEN. Do what it do.
We strolled in, waited until the ushers seated us, which is easy for Debbie since she is in a wheelchair...she's always got a good seat for every show, ya know? The service began with some bits of testimony where people acknowledge how God has moved in their lives, some divine miracle like knocking out that rent payment. No comment. Then, the choir got up and sang and sang and sang. Their voices lifted, the old addage of 'when two or more are gathered' was ever present and I felt it.
The soul was there. There was feeling behind every word they used in praise of God's work. For some reason, it was vastly different than the vocal performances that I've witnessed at every church since arriving in this state 30 years ago. Well, 32,but I didn't want to date myself. I don't want to make it a difference in white and black, but it just happens to be just that. The difference between Amy Grant and CeCe Winans I guess. I was so moved during one song that I reached into my purse, grabbed my handy dandy notebook ( yes, I know I've watched Blue's Clues too often) and started writing. I was inspired and a woman's story came to me. The words came faster than my fingers could write, but I got the nuts and bolts down. I got a title as well and for me, that's the skeleton. Now, I can use my mind to tell this story and add flesh to those bones.
The sermon was about Jacob and Esau and I have no intention of telling it again. There are enough versions of the Bible out there for anyone that cares, but the Bishop wanted to know which of the brothers we all were. There is no doubt I am a Jacob. I get in where I fit in and when I don't fit in, I make a way and GET THERE. My mind is my trump card and I carry it in a pocket protector called faith.
What's complicated about that, you may ask? Well, nothing really...except that on the way home after the 3 hour service, I was dicussing a personal situation with Deb. I told her that sometimes it's almost like we need a bolt of lightening to tell us if we are on the right path or not. Just then, a car swerved in front of us with a window decal that had one word on it. It was definitely specific to what we were just discussing and so so out of place. There are no coincidences. That bolt of lightening is quite complicated because it means I have to take action and be accountable in a situation that affects more than just me. What can I say, it's complicated.
Monday, March 05, 2007
Friday, March 02, 2007
17 inches of snow on the wall
It's 7:30am and I just rescued my dog from the snow bank outside my office door. Ok, it's not an office, it's a garage, but I do have a desk, tv and laptop here...so by the narrowest ( most narrow) of margins, it qualifies during the breaks I take out here.
Like every other day, I opened the door, expected Sable to go barrelling through it and do her thing but today she took a few steps, I turned back to my desk and sat down in my office chair ( yep, that's here too) and then she started whining to come back in. The snow was taller than she can stand in and not sink and she's a pretty large Black lab. Well, she's more than large and in truth, I need to call Bob Greene and get her started on her Best Life ever diet because she needs fries with her shake and shimmy and she's only 9.
So, I let her back in the house where the mini me(s) are enjoying a hot breakfast because all of the schools are closed. I'm listening to George Michael's Twenty Five again because it was in the Mary J. Reflection's cd case which by default means Mary J is on top of the radio, a lady in waiting. It's going to be a productive day so she'll get her turn.
I woke up early to see the snow totals across the state and see if in fact that schools had closed and I could tell darling daughter to go back to bed once more. Affirmative on all accounts. Then I switched from local to CNN and caught the Anna Nicole debacle on it's last legs.
Anna will be laid to rest today next to her son in the Bahamas, as well she should have been 3 weeks ago. Just the other day my mother made me promise not to take 3 weeks to bury her when she passes. I reminded her that we'll be neighbors in the nursing home, thanks to her unbridled teenage passion and that we should go look for a two for one deal on plots at some point. Keep her laughing now...that's all I can do.
She told me she wants to be buried near me and asked if I was planning to be buried here or in Louisiana. Crazy as it sounds, when I spent all that time bedridden, I did think about this topic and I told her that I want to go home and be buried with our family. She then reminded me that the family church plots are over crowded and I said, "Well, hell, running Uncle Robert over ain't nothing new. I'm sure he doesn't mind at this point and company might do him well." By the time we go, Alex will be lakeshore property anyway so we may as well buy up now. I ain't skeered.
I told her about this newish thing I heard about where you are cremated and turned into a diamond, a thought my husband had for me that I quickly dismissed. It's a brown diamond! Where am I gonna wear that? Plus, if he can't give me a set and it's not a carat for each ear, what's the point? There is that and then there is the question of what his next wife may want because I'm not so sure that I'll be in a position to make those executive decisions for him for much longer. LOL! Besides, it feels freaky to walk around with a person on your person. That's just not normal. Neither is this entry but still.
Like every other day, I opened the door, expected Sable to go barrelling through it and do her thing but today she took a few steps, I turned back to my desk and sat down in my office chair ( yep, that's here too) and then she started whining to come back in. The snow was taller than she can stand in and not sink and she's a pretty large Black lab. Well, she's more than large and in truth, I need to call Bob Greene and get her started on her Best Life ever diet because she needs fries with her shake and shimmy and she's only 9.
So, I let her back in the house where the mini me(s) are enjoying a hot breakfast because all of the schools are closed. I'm listening to George Michael's Twenty Five again because it was in the Mary J. Reflection's cd case which by default means Mary J is on top of the radio, a lady in waiting. It's going to be a productive day so she'll get her turn.
I woke up early to see the snow totals across the state and see if in fact that schools had closed and I could tell darling daughter to go back to bed once more. Affirmative on all accounts. Then I switched from local to CNN and caught the Anna Nicole debacle on it's last legs.
Anna will be laid to rest today next to her son in the Bahamas, as well she should have been 3 weeks ago. Just the other day my mother made me promise not to take 3 weeks to bury her when she passes. I reminded her that we'll be neighbors in the nursing home, thanks to her unbridled teenage passion and that we should go look for a two for one deal on plots at some point. Keep her laughing now...that's all I can do.
She told me she wants to be buried near me and asked if I was planning to be buried here or in Louisiana. Crazy as it sounds, when I spent all that time bedridden, I did think about this topic and I told her that I want to go home and be buried with our family. She then reminded me that the family church plots are over crowded and I said, "Well, hell, running Uncle Robert over ain't nothing new. I'm sure he doesn't mind at this point and company might do him well." By the time we go, Alex will be lakeshore property anyway so we may as well buy up now. I ain't skeered.
I told her about this newish thing I heard about where you are cremated and turned into a diamond, a thought my husband had for me that I quickly dismissed. It's a brown diamond! Where am I gonna wear that? Plus, if he can't give me a set and it's not a carat for each ear, what's the point? There is that and then there is the question of what his next wife may want because I'm not so sure that I'll be in a position to make those executive decisions for him for much longer. LOL! Besides, it feels freaky to walk around with a person on your person. That's just not normal. Neither is this entry but still.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Raving rants...
Rapping Rant
Rapper 50 Cent has just released a book about hustling through his new publishing company. There are so many thing wrong with that sentence, none of which is the structure. I may not know an adverb from my ass, but I do know that 50 cent can’t even say his own damn name, let alone spell it and write about it? HUH? WHAT?
My main bone of contention is that this book will be marketing to youth. My age group will not likely be picking up a Hustling manual ( even though, I know some of y’all could use it). Mainstream America will not be buying this book. His target demographic is junior. For real and he’s teaching junior how to hustle.
That’s kind of like Dick Cheney writing a self help book about making the world love you for your glowing personality. 50 can’t hustle! He’s been shot 8 or 9 times. His hustle is BROKE!
Some may say that the fact that he even has this deal is a hustle and it may well be, but this is when my eyebrow raises and I question the “handlers”, the “advisors” because I don’t believe it’s HIS hustle. Follow the money trail.
The Presidential “Race”
The hats are all being thrown in and it’s still anyone’s game. That’s because we’re a year ahead of schedule. That also means, another year’s worth of millions to fund these campaigns. Whatever happened to campaign finance reform? I mean, it’s logical that if I have the most money, I’ll buy the biggest flag, more people will see it, recognize it and likely support it and many won’t have a clue why except for the fact that there is brand recognition. That’s branding folks. That’s Business 101. Is that what our Presidency is now? Just another business?
Well, it’s always been about the one with the most gold rising to the top, but they used to have to stand for something too…now it seems all of these folks are just in it to win it and will say whatever they need to in order to ascend to the Oval. One won’t admit she made a mistake in supporting the war. One supports the war and one is triumphing by saying he didn’t support the war all along. Senator Obama, you already had my support but careful with that because it might turn into anti-war sentiment and bite you in the ass in a year when those vets come home.
I supported Dennis Kucinich early on in the last election. When I realized that his chances were faltering because he didn’t have “The Look” that Americans wanted, I put my support behind John Edwards because I agreed with him on the issues. I could trust the future of the nation in his hands…for a few years anyway. There was a tiny bit of skepticism because he looks an awful lot like the character Damian in Omen 3 played by Sam Neil, but ya know, I figured maybe that’s just me. As far as religious conspiracies go, the Anti-Christ would have been older than Edwards and descended from a long line of royalty. Hmm, not unlike George Bush of Dubya.
But Dubya isn’t the anti-Christ. I don’t believe him to be inherently evil, just inherently stupid. Big difference. In all honesty, I raise my eyebrows and question his “handlers” and “advisors” too because I don’t believe all of this chaos is his hustle. Follow the money trail. déjà vu, isn’t it?
I caught a bit of the ‘Hot Topics” segment on the View, which I swore I wouldn’t watch after Star Jones was canned, but I still catch that first 15 minutes anyway. It’s amusing to watch. Yesterday, Rosie and Joy were discussing the current political climate and the conversation reached a fever pitch when they turned attentions to Elizabeth Hasselbeck and questioned her unwavering support of the Bush Administration. After The hunt for WMDs, after Haliburton, after Katrina, after Gitmo, after Abu Gharib, after the Patriot Act, after Enron, after Scooter gate, did I mention after KATRINA???? Rosie attributed Elizabeth’s loyalty to youth. Personally, I think she’s just a very very vanilla person ( bsdm reference notwithstanding and she wouldn't have a clue anyway) and that colors much of her world and thinking. It has nothing to do with age. It has something to do with class, ethnicity, education level, exposure to the world and a superiority complex that she isn’t likely even aware that she has. It’s White Privilege in a nutshell. It keeps people that want to be blind, blind.
It can be proven too. My theory anyway. If you were to engage a room full of people and ask them if race ( social construct) mattered, most would say it didn’t. Then go a step further and tell them that they can no longer identify as whatever race they had previously identified as. Most would lose their damn minds. They wouldn’t have a clue who they were or what they were expected to do and worse, they would feel “like everybody else” and that is something that Americans NEVER want to feel. We’re a funny group when ya think about it. People love to pretend to be “color blind” but if two days later someone asks what color they are, they are quick to say. Just the same, I’m not giving my Black back so I won’t be hypocritical about it. But there is no such thing as Black privilege. I guess, viva la difference
In other news
Expecting two feet of snow here...an inch and hour for the next day. For the kids, fun sledding with their dad. For me, lots more time to write. I know I shouldn't shop this week, but I need a new desk. I was thinking of a flat writer's table with two a-frame style sides and then a second architect's desk so that I can just switch up when I paint. Right now, there is far too much preparation and I almost lose inspiration by the time I have all of my supplies together. A snow day would be perfect timing to clear out this room next to me for my own purposes. I'm just trying to busy my hands so I don't think about my mother too much and don't write about her either. Just did though. I'm avoiding calling "Home" because I will have to tell them what's going on with her, though I could lighten the convo by telling my aunt that I ordered Chitlins online again. She gave me hell for weeks for that last time, but I swear I have never seen them cleaned so well in my life. They are what they are. I told her I would save her some time this season and order some for her too. I won't tell you the names she called me but I'm still her baby. Hell, I'm everyone's baby, still! Maybe my mom and I should go home next month after all. I haven't been since Katrina. I left on Sunday after burying Memo and Katrina came that Monday. Yeah, I need to go.
But for now, I'm off to RyeCrisp and turkey with pepperjack land and a side of cukes with Wishbone balsamic spray but I may treat myself to a Welch's grape. But, if I have a V-8 instead, I swear I'm baking a cake tonight! With all kinds of buttercream icing.
Rapper 50 Cent has just released a book about hustling through his new publishing company. There are so many thing wrong with that sentence, none of which is the structure. I may not know an adverb from my ass, but I do know that 50 cent can’t even say his own damn name, let alone spell it and write about it? HUH? WHAT?
My main bone of contention is that this book will be marketing to youth. My age group will not likely be picking up a Hustling manual ( even though, I know some of y’all could use it). Mainstream America will not be buying this book. His target demographic is junior. For real and he’s teaching junior how to hustle.
That’s kind of like Dick Cheney writing a self help book about making the world love you for your glowing personality. 50 can’t hustle! He’s been shot 8 or 9 times. His hustle is BROKE!
Some may say that the fact that he even has this deal is a hustle and it may well be, but this is when my eyebrow raises and I question the “handlers”, the “advisors” because I don’t believe it’s HIS hustle. Follow the money trail.
The Presidential “Race”
The hats are all being thrown in and it’s still anyone’s game. That’s because we’re a year ahead of schedule. That also means, another year’s worth of millions to fund these campaigns. Whatever happened to campaign finance reform? I mean, it’s logical that if I have the most money, I’ll buy the biggest flag, more people will see it, recognize it and likely support it and many won’t have a clue why except for the fact that there is brand recognition. That’s branding folks. That’s Business 101. Is that what our Presidency is now? Just another business?
Well, it’s always been about the one with the most gold rising to the top, but they used to have to stand for something too…now it seems all of these folks are just in it to win it and will say whatever they need to in order to ascend to the Oval. One won’t admit she made a mistake in supporting the war. One supports the war and one is triumphing by saying he didn’t support the war all along. Senator Obama, you already had my support but careful with that because it might turn into anti-war sentiment and bite you in the ass in a year when those vets come home.
I supported Dennis Kucinich early on in the last election. When I realized that his chances were faltering because he didn’t have “The Look” that Americans wanted, I put my support behind John Edwards because I agreed with him on the issues. I could trust the future of the nation in his hands…for a few years anyway. There was a tiny bit of skepticism because he looks an awful lot like the character Damian in Omen 3 played by Sam Neil, but ya know, I figured maybe that’s just me. As far as religious conspiracies go, the Anti-Christ would have been older than Edwards and descended from a long line of royalty. Hmm, not unlike George Bush of Dubya.
But Dubya isn’t the anti-Christ. I don’t believe him to be inherently evil, just inherently stupid. Big difference. In all honesty, I raise my eyebrows and question his “handlers” and “advisors” too because I don’t believe all of this chaos is his hustle. Follow the money trail. déjà vu, isn’t it?
I caught a bit of the ‘Hot Topics” segment on the View, which I swore I wouldn’t watch after Star Jones was canned, but I still catch that first 15 minutes anyway. It’s amusing to watch. Yesterday, Rosie and Joy were discussing the current political climate and the conversation reached a fever pitch when they turned attentions to Elizabeth Hasselbeck and questioned her unwavering support of the Bush Administration. After The hunt for WMDs, after Haliburton, after Katrina, after Gitmo, after Abu Gharib, after the Patriot Act, after Enron, after Scooter gate, did I mention after KATRINA???? Rosie attributed Elizabeth’s loyalty to youth. Personally, I think she’s just a very very vanilla person ( bsdm reference notwithstanding and she wouldn't have a clue anyway) and that colors much of her world and thinking. It has nothing to do with age. It has something to do with class, ethnicity, education level, exposure to the world and a superiority complex that she isn’t likely even aware that she has. It’s White Privilege in a nutshell. It keeps people that want to be blind, blind.
It can be proven too. My theory anyway. If you were to engage a room full of people and ask them if race ( social construct) mattered, most would say it didn’t. Then go a step further and tell them that they can no longer identify as whatever race they had previously identified as. Most would lose their damn minds. They wouldn’t have a clue who they were or what they were expected to do and worse, they would feel “like everybody else” and that is something that Americans NEVER want to feel. We’re a funny group when ya think about it. People love to pretend to be “color blind” but if two days later someone asks what color they are, they are quick to say. Just the same, I’m not giving my Black back so I won’t be hypocritical about it. But there is no such thing as Black privilege. I guess, viva la difference
In other news
Expecting two feet of snow here...an inch and hour for the next day. For the kids, fun sledding with their dad. For me, lots more time to write. I know I shouldn't shop this week, but I need a new desk. I was thinking of a flat writer's table with two a-frame style sides and then a second architect's desk so that I can just switch up when I paint. Right now, there is far too much preparation and I almost lose inspiration by the time I have all of my supplies together. A snow day would be perfect timing to clear out this room next to me for my own purposes. I'm just trying to busy my hands so I don't think about my mother too much and don't write about her either. Just did though. I'm avoiding calling "Home" because I will have to tell them what's going on with her, though I could lighten the convo by telling my aunt that I ordered Chitlins online again. She gave me hell for weeks for that last time, but I swear I have never seen them cleaned so well in my life. They are what they are. I told her I would save her some time this season and order some for her too. I won't tell you the names she called me but I'm still her baby. Hell, I'm everyone's baby, still! Maybe my mom and I should go home next month after all. I haven't been since Katrina. I left on Sunday after burying Memo and Katrina came that Monday. Yeah, I need to go.
But for now, I'm off to RyeCrisp and turkey with pepperjack land and a side of cukes with Wishbone balsamic spray but I may treat myself to a Welch's grape. But, if I have a V-8 instead, I swear I'm baking a cake tonight! With all kinds of buttercream icing.
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