Mahogany on the View

"...Back on the scene, crispy and clean"

After an extended hiatus to engage in negroesque summer activity, like taking a trip to Detroit (home of fingerwaves and clear nailpolish on dudes) for a sorority convention and indulging in the summer time fun of eating barbecue chicken, water ice and putting too much powder on, I, like Quincy Jones, am back on the block. But, I write with heavy typing fingers, my friends. There is a matter of grave concern that grieves my heart this evenin'.

It can be summed up in two words: "The View"

Now, normally I am at work when "Three white women and a negro" comes on the tube courtesy of ABC. But I catch up with clips in the office courtesy of every black girl's best friend, You Tube. Sadly, it has come to my attention that the View has now become a forum wherein said black femme can encounter a trio of hateration (and holleration) from two hags and a "Bitsy" ("Bitsy is the proper dog name for Elisabeth Hassleberry.. Hasslehoff.. Hum... her name is obviously not that important to me. Lol.) Since Starruh's departure from The View (and soon departure from marrying men who are batting for the Yankees... oops), we have seen a revolving door of black women who have chomped at the bit to share their views on the issues of the day and more importantly whether they have real hair or not. Brandi/Mo'Nique/fill black woman's name have each come on the show in the hopes of filling that famous seat in which one negroetta can wax poetic about life. In the past few weeks though each visit has been marred by Baba Wawa asking one or two... or ten culturally bias and, i don't know... c-r-a-z-y questions.

Act one:
Barbara enters the set, her lisp in tow, and sits to chat with Mo'Nique.
Barbara: So can we properly call your kids creatures?
Mo: [Trying to suppress the Baltimore by jerking her head to the side for a second to get her bearings] My children are NOT creatures.
Joy: [Making some crack about black kids and their ghetto names]
Mo: Actually my kids' names are Jonathan and David

Fade out

Act two:
Barbara is at the desk chatting with Brandy. She reaches out to touch her hair
Barb: Is that a wig?
Brandy: No, it's not a wig
Barb: But it's not your hair...

Fade out

The level of disrespect in these two instances was just astounding to me. I had to pinch myself to make sure that we were not in 1965 when this kind of thing was approved hook, line and sinker by the original gangsta, Mr. Jim Crow. My original inclination was to quote one Jay-Z... "Niggah what? Niggah who?" But I digress... the point is that the show is now horrible at very best and that Baba needs to request an upping of her meds, pronto. No one has informed me (*checking fax machine to see if I missed the memo*) that in 2006 it has now become appropriate to question a black woman about her style choices or ... gasp... reach your wrinkled fingers up into the crown of her hair to feel around. (Please see Jay-Z quote again for refrain). The moment that that becomes acceptable, you will see yours truly, Mahogany Elle marshaling the Klan parade down the town center of Jump Back, Georgia, clad in a glittery captain's hat and purple draws. I for one like the idea of living in a world where some things remain sacred. In this case, that would be black women's hair -- not an open topic for Bitsy or Baba. Lol.

In closing, I would like to posit an alternative viewing of the show for those of you who still insist on watching. This would be the episode where Babs and company call my phone and inform Mahogany that she will be making her cameo. It would happen a little like this...

Mahogany: Girls, I was able to clear my schedule to join you for the taping. Hope you're grateful
Babs: *Looking at me incredulously*
Mahogany: Well, close your mouth. Carry on. Isn't it time for the Hot Topics? Your mustache waxing--white women swear by that, right?
Babs: White women? *Looks at Joy and Bitsy*
Mahogany: Anyway, I know you have some questions for me. I saw the show with Brandy. So, shoot... at your own peril
Babs: Actually, we did want you to come on and have you talk about...you know, your people
Mahogany: Mmm hmmm
Babs: So what is this about black women and fake hair?
Mahogany: Do we ask you about your collagen injections, store-bought posteriors?
Babs: Well, no, it's just that...
Mahogany: *blank stare*
Babs: Well, *reaches hand out*
Mahogany: Yes it's real. Touch it and draw back a nub to go with that lisp.
Joy: *Cackles and tells some unintelligible joke*
Mahogany: You want a beat down too, Toucan Sam?
Joy: *Looks on in silence*
Mahogany: So, what else would like to inquire about? Remember, I'm here for you as your black people ambassador. Think of me as the Kofi Annan of TV.
Joy: Well I just want to know what is it with black women and these kids' names?
Mahogany: Like Ty'Quindia, ShaTeesha, etc. etc. Well, Bill Cosby was supposed to be having a meeting with the NAACP about it but alas he's detained in a tennis match on the Vineyard. I for one have no connection to the likes of people who name their kids weird stuff. But then again, there's Apple and Moses Paltrow and Rob Morrow's daughter, Tu (as in Tu Morrow). So you see, the spooks don't have name creativity on lock, per se...
Joy: I see...
Babs: Well this has certainly been interesting. We learned a lot about black people today.
Mahogany: Smiles tartly while fanning hair back
Babs: One final question. How is it that at 40, 60, 70 even, you really can't tell how old a black woman is. Is this some sort of voodoo magic from slavery days? Maybe it's all that chicken grease you eat? Crisco?
Mahogany: Well I will let you in on a secret. It's a special recipe that we have passed down for centuries. It's called...
Babs and Joy: *sitting the edge of their seats*
Mahogany: Black don' crack. We don't bottle it up for outsiders, but ask about it.
Mahogany: *Stands up and waves arms out in Diana Ross stance as stage smoke emanates from the desk* Toodles.