Rhythmandwords

Requiem for a One-Gloved Wonder

2009-07-04T18:48:00.005-04:00

“So tonight, we’re gonna leave that 9-to-5 up on shelf
And just enjoy yourself.
Groove. Let the madness and the music get to you
Life ain’t so bad at all, when you’re living off the wall.”
-Michael Jackson, “Off the Wall”

I must confess. I have been enthralled with the magical Michael Jackson from the time I was old enough to say “moonwalk.”

It goes without saying that for seventies and eighties black babies Michael was our Bob Dylan. Our Elvis. Sure his concerts didn’t feature spaceships, like say, Parliament-Funkadelic, nor big gilded pianos, like say Barry Manilow. But that was just it. Michael, save his sparkly socks, ever-fresh Jheri curl and glove, came sans props. Why? Cause the cat just didn’t need them. He had electric legs, a killer voice and the ability to get a crowd that spanned generations on its feet. He didn’t have to ask. He didn’t have to beg. He didn’t have to have 40 rowdy dudes yelling into mikes on the stage with him. But the people responded because he was the real deal. Musically, he was all parts included. No assembly needed. And for me, he was magic.

Growing up, every summer we would travel to Detroit to visit our extended family. On one trip, in the mid-80s, we gathered at my grandmother’s house, I remember my Uncle Phil, my mom’s oldest brother, excitedly rallying everyone to the den. There was this show. We had to watch it. In fact, he had brought over his newfangled “VHS system” to hook up to the TV just so we could. Now my uncle was really low-key, unassuming type of gent who specialized in computer repair. He rarely got amped about anything, save his weakness for Strawberry Milkshakes and jazz. This, thought my five-year-old self, must be some video.

Turned out it was a tape of the Motown 25 Reunion special. We sat, watched and sang along as the Temptations, the Four Tops, the Supremes and various other Motown groups reunited on stage to celebrate the musical legacy founded by Berry Gordy in Detroit. Of course we liked them enough. But everyone knew that they really wanted to see the Jacksons get on stage. To me, they were bigger than red Kool-aid and roller skates in the summer. When the brothers – Jackie, Marlon, Jermaine, Tito, Randy and Michael – emerged, my cousins and I got up and danced and sang along to the classics. And then, at some point the music slowed. The brothers exited. And Michael said to the crowd, I really liked the old stuff. But I love the new. And then a base line started like a funky heartbeat, “Boom, ba-boom-boom. Boom ba-boom-boom.” And Michael started to sing. “She was more like a beauty queen, from a movie scene . . .” And from the little T.V. screen we watched we could feel the crowd pulsating like someone ran through the audience with a cattle prod. Buzzzzzz.

And then it happened. During the bridge, Michael started to dance as if he had some invisible electric source attached to his ankles. I remember the steps like he did it yesterday. Kick out. Pause. Spin around. Push back. And sliiiiiide.

Oh. My. Goodness.

To this day, I have never seen a performer so electric, so captivating, so – alive. In some respects, Michael was superhuman. He sang. He wrote. He danced. He and Lionel Richie, along with the maestro Quincy Jones, were the driving force behind “We Are the World,” Grammy-winning the anthem of the eighties that benefited hunger programs in Africa. (Youtube the video. It’s still a classic.) In my book, anyone who can co-write a song where Stevie Wonder, Kenny Rogers and Steve Perry take turns singing solos and all of them sound fantastic is a genius. Today, we can still recite Michael’s solo hits, like we did our third grade multiplication-tables. “Rock With You”, “Human Nature,” “Billie Jean,” and of course the quintessential “Thriller.” And he had so many others with his brothers. As the Jacksons, “Can You Feel It?” and “This Place Hotel” were tracks that rocked the house. (Quietly, Tito’s guitar solo on the latter combined with Michael’s impassioned voice killed it). Earlier as the Jackson 5, they drummed out classics for Motown including, “I Want You Back,” “A-B-C” and the perpetual tearjerker “Never Can Say Goodbye.”

Tonight, on the evening of MJ’s passing, hip-hop impresario Sean “P. Diddy” Combs called into CNN’s Larry King Live and summed up what Michael meant for so many in my generation. “He made me believe in magic.” I normally think Diddy, who as awesome of an entrepreneur as he is, comes across more comically than poignantly, due to his antics on MTV’s “Making the Band.” But tonight, I nodded my head in somber agreement as he spoke. Yes. That’s it. That’s exactly it. I thought about my own childhood in New Jersey. If Michael wasn’t magic, why else would I have begged for a red jacket and a jheri curl? My mother, a paragon of foresight, denied both requests, to her praise. And why else did all the kids I knew from my neighborhood all claim to be one person removed from Michael Jackson? (Mmm hmm. Yeah, well, girl, my momma’s cousin’s brother is Michael Jackson’s cousin.) And why did I and every girl I knew gaze at his Thriller album cover imagine marrying him one day? Those dreamy sparkly socks. That smile.

Sigh. If only.

“Could it be I stayed away too long?
Did I leave your mind when I was gone?
Well, it’s not that I’m trying to get back.
But this time let me tell you where I’m at.”
- Jackson 5 “I Wanna Be Where You Are”

After news broke of Michael’s passing, my friends and I exchanged a flurry of texts, calls and memories. One friend in Houston had gotten to see the Jacksons’ Victory tour and years later still seemed awestruck. Another friend in Brooklyn volunteered that if you played “Enjoy Yourself” at any place or time, she would gladly stop her course of business and get down like the rent depended on it. Calling home in New Jersey, I kidded my brother, who had once performed impassioned renditions of “Thriller” around the house. (He was three, so he thought the words were “It’s a go-ri-llla, go-ri-llla night”. We laughed at the memory.) In LA, my cousin purposed to watch some old Jackson 5 clips on Youtube, if they didn’t make her too sad.

As the mainstream TV news media reminded us today, to be sure MJ had some problems. We all do. So while the coverage of his passing today was at times kind (“He made Thriller,” people still said in amazement). At other times, it was not so much. (One network showed clips of previously televised interviews with boys who had spent nights at his Neverland compound.) In response to the latter, I simply shook my head at the speculation and lack of respect. The man is dead. I pondered that it’s often the gifted who give and give of themselves, only to be torn down. It made me ache for his family.

If I could “Give a Message to Michael” (to borrow from the Dionne Warwick song) it would be thanks from that little Jersey black girl. She is now a woman who, if the DJ spins “Pretty Young Thing” at the right time, will still make an awkward “black girl who dances like she went to private school” attempt at Moonwalking. If it’s true that we never really appreciate what we have until it’s gone, perhaps the blessing in today is that we can finally, really appreciate that in Michael Jackson we had a rare supernatural gift. It’s a gift one only sees with the likes of people like Picasso. Michaelangelo. Ray Charles. These are people who take our earthy tactile objects -- a paintbrush, a slab of marble, a piano – and then they breathe life into these objects as only they can. As Willie Wonka told us, “They are the magic makers. They are the dreamers of dreams.” Today, they are also Michael Jackson.

And the magic maker will be missed.
-M. Elle

It's Where You Been and Where You Be...

2009-06-14T18:48:00.012-04:00

Cover Art From Mos Def's "The Ecstatic"

"Everybody act according to the season that they born in

Some in the night, some in in the morning.

Some at noon. Some in winter. Some in June...It's all cool."

- Mos Def feat. Talib Kweli, "History" (Now playing)

I was born on a September morning in a Center City, Philadelphia hospital. Just after 15 hours of labor, set off by the evening news the night before. A newly minted brown baby girl. The eldest child born to one who came from a lot. To another who came from a little. As it ended up, along the way, they met in the middle.

*hums* History, history

So, it's not hard to imagine that I am perpetually late, a former journalist, current news junkie and, well, (*considers how to reconcile my love for coonish reality tv shows and Be-Bop*) boughetto. Lol. In his guest appearance on Mos Def's "History," Brookylnite Talib Kweli raps that he lays down the law down like Leviticus. (Dope lyric, btw. Especially poignant considering that his brother was a Supreme Court clerk and is now a Columbia prof. Tight.) But I digress. Talib's musings always get me to thinking. This time I wondered what if he had decided to be a lawyer instead of a rapper? He would have robbed all of us of his witty, incisive repertoire just for the point of being like somebody else. That would have been a shame.

*hums* History, history

Now, I'm not a rapper. By any means. Not even a little bit. Lol. But daily-- and maybe Bar preparation has kicked my existentialism into overdrive so I apologize. Lol.-- I wonder if I might have been a better scribe in the past than I might be a lawyer in the future. I'm not certain whether stacks and stacks of memorization of countless minutae is for me in the same way that a great song is for me. In the same way a good book or great article is for me. In the same way a perfect verse over a great track is just, well, perfect. I hear Earth, Wind and Fire, Sarah Vaughan, Pete Rock and CL Smooth, John Coltrane, Stevie Wonder, Sergio Mendes and Brasil '66, I light up. I peruse James Baldwin or Nikki Giovanni or a good piece in the New Yorker, I'm sparkling all day. I read the law of Commercial Paper. Yeah, not so much. Lol.

I am truly thankful for these past three years. Law school has disciplined my mind and honed my analytical abilities like few other things could have. I can read a case without eyes crossed. I can write a memo. I can speak the language. And of course I'm thankful for the opportunities it has presented to earn filthy lucre and perhaps, like Willie Gary, more fame than *insert stage voice,* The Grrreat and Powerful Ozzz!! Lol. But I am more and more coming to grips with as Mos says, "where I been and where I be." Who I be.

Where I've been is everywhere. East Coast. West Coast. Midwest. I try to never forget how blessed I've been in life. In universities. Newsrooms. Covering political protests. Speaking to Grammy and Tony winners. Chillaxing on the Vineyard or in LA. Where I be now is always the harder questions for me, or I guess anyone, to answer. As OutKast says on "Synthesizer," "Life is full of evolution." As George Benson sang, "Everything must change. Nothing stays the same." I suppose the great guitarist and Big Boi and 'nem are right :-) With each change, there is loss and gain. A renting of the old garments to be able to properly don the new ones. But before we change clothes ("and go" - Jigga *smile*), It's always important to look in the mirror. Maintain our essential truths. Silence the noise and ask what God put you here for. What are my gifts? What are my goals? (And how do I line those up together and stay out the bread line? Lol) When we can answer that honestly, I think we're on the right train. One that properly acknowedges the promises in our future and the triumphs of our past. Cause "every soul got history: it's where you been and where you be."

-M. Elle

In My Rearview

2009-04-25T17:21:00.019-04:00

The Obamas are in the House! Yay!

Hey family. So much stuff has happened since I've seen you last. So grab a mason jar of lemonade, a healthy slice of cornbread and sit on the porch with me a spell . . .

This year, we elected and inaugurated our first black president. (Yay for last bastion of priviledge being felled. Somewhere Thurgood Marshall is giving Charles Hamilton Houston a dap.) I tried to watch the inauguration as someone who had seen black people for the very first time would have. Or, alternatively the way my great-grandfather, a sharecropper from Camp Hill, Alabama, might have watched.

I was honestly too floored to move when Aretha ascended the podium with her Sunday best on. What a day, what a day. And what a hat! I thought she properly reflected the solemnity of the occassion in a way that only a Detroit millinery could have. (Let's face it, before that day, black folks' inaugurations = Easter Sunday, Mother's Day, weddings or funerals). Go Re Re.

"Time to save the world. Where in the world is all the time?

So many things I still don't know.
So many times I've changed my mind." -Erykah Badu, Mama's Gun

In the months that have followed, there has been a whirlwind in the White House. Michelle O and two little black girls skipping off of Air Force One. Two years ago, who would have thunk it? I pinch myself often and realize how cool it is to live in America. It ain't perfect, but anything can happen. We thought so before, but we really know it now. The possibilities are infinite.

I know it too. I've spent my last semester in law school reflecting on the blessing of being here. Here on this earth, but specifically here in this particular place I'm fortunate to occupy. As Nina Simone once sang, "To be young, gifted and black. Oh what a lovely, precious dream. "

Sure the economy is tanking. Corporate America is questioning the very foundation upon which it was built. Many of my classmates are scrambling for employment, deferred, fired or worried that they will be. In these times, we realize that in many things, the old texts are right. Greed is ever present ("For the love of money is the root of all evil.") But hope is ever present too. ("He came not to condemn the world, but so the world through him might be saved.") From time-to-time, when we're really paying attention, we see slivers of why we're really here. (A plane lands in New York City's Hudson River in the winter's cold, sans fatalities or injuries, even for a tiny baby. *Smile* Yeah, thank goodness someone else sits at the wheel.)

Personally, that assurance has never been more real to me. In two weeks, I will walk across the stage at my law school graduation. It was something that my father first dreamed for me when I was nine and told him I wanted to be the first black woman Supreme Court justice. Lol. And so it will be a (tears up a little) moving experience to be doing it without him in the audience. I want to know what he would have said. I want to see how he would have looked at me after I shook the Dean's hand. It gets me still when I repeat his old mantra ... I remember him saying it each time as if it were the first: "The sky is the limit."

I have been through a lot since he passed three Novembers ago. Worked alot. Learned alot. Sometimes cried. Two Saturdays from now, I know he will be watching from afar. I will celebrate in spirit with those of you who have willed me through school by sending good thoughts. Or sending up big prayers. Or little prayers. Or emails, calls, smiles, or blog comments (like Mahogany why does your monkey tail only post three times a year!? Lol). Know that I am eternally grateful.

And to my Dad, all I gotta to say is watch me fly!

xoxo,
M. Elle

*sings* "That's all I have, ain't got no' mo." (Erykah B.)

PSA: Naps at the Bar

2008-07-08T17:02:00.004-04:00

Anyone who knows me knows that I love Philadelphia. The Roots. Grover Washington. Patti Labelle. Jill Scott. South Street. Water ice. Cheesesteaks. Sigh. Just, the whole deal. Being here for the summer has been grand, in general.

But there are just some things about the City of Brotherly Love (and Sisterly Affection) in which, I would rather not partake: 1) It smells when it rains. 2) It smells when it doesn't rain. 3) The homeless men are very aggressive in trying to spit game. (But most times, they just spit.)

But aside from all of that, there really is just one thing I cannot stand about Philly...

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Exhibits A-Z: Men with Thick, Nappy Beards!!!

A Huey P. Newton, H. Rap Brown-sized 'Fro growing on the bottom of your chin and cheeks is not, I repeat, NOT okay. The Honorable Elijah Muhammad does not approve!!!!!! So, let me tell about this afternoon. It was lunchtime. So, I went to Cosi to get a Greek salad. Once I got inside, I looked at the row of people standing at the Salad Bar, preparing the food. The three people appeared as if this was their first stop out of the correctional facility, as all suffered from disgrunted expressions and excessive tattoos. But this was all very minor to me compared with one man, who had to be Rick Ross' illegitimate brother. I'll call him The Boss.

So, I noticed that the Boss, who later dumped vinaigarette dressing in my bowl, had a six inch afro around his face. Aside from that hirsuite having to be extremely unpleasant in the summer, I can't imagine having to wash comb and dare I say Blue Magic grease that mess every day. Anyway, impolite as it was, I couldn't help but stare in spates in between discussing it with my co-worker friend with whom I stood in line. A quick recap:

Me: Do you think I'll have crispy naps in my tomatoes and tandori chicken? I really don't like naps in my food.
Her: [Laughing] He has a net around it.

But like Doubting Thomas, I did not believe. I tried not to stare at the beard as The Boss asked what kind of dressing I preferred. It was then that I realized -- great day in the morning -- she was right! Sure as I'm standing, The Boss had a hair net around his beard. Pop, pop, pop went my mind to quote LeVert. I looked closer to confirm, eyes blinking incredulously as if I had happened upon a pot of gold. Or a unicorn. Surely not a full-sized hair net was requried to cover this nappy monstrosity? But alas. It. was. As I struggled to remain standing whilst silently humming "Nearer My God to Thee," I hoped for inner peace. The end of the war. For the sun to always set in the west. For birds to fly back north for Spring. And for nappy afro Philly beards to just please, please go away!!

As I closed my eyes, a Public Service Announcement came to me in a dream just like I was Joseph with that Coat of Many Colors (but better shoes). The PSA read "Notice to all: Thou whilst not weareth a nappy beard unless your job includes bringing sugar plums and joy to all the children of the world on Christmas day. Amen and Amend"

And with that, I clicked my heels three times and went on Home to Glory. *Cough* I mean, of course, back to work...

One Night Only...

2008-02-16T01:22:00.019-05:00

It's the Grammy's and Mahogany's Hitting the Red Carpet

Being the law student that I am, I didn't get to watch the show this year. (Darn you jurisdiction cases.) But you know I caught up on all the highlights this week. And who needs to tune in when she can just watch You Tube and peruse the stunning (or utterly piss poor and lackluster) fashions sur la Red Carpet. So as my muse Jigga says, "Just my thoughts, right or wrong... Just what I was feeling at the time... Give the drummer some."

Solange: (or Solan-jay as I like to call her, because what use is a name if it doesn't rhyme with that of your supremely more talented, has everything you ever wanted sister?) However, unless little sister-in-chief is adept at casting magic spells, I don't understand the stars on the black clog-heeled shoes. I suppose she is the bad witch and Beyonce is Glinda the Good. If only we could grab a couple of munchkins (JD and Musiq, where are you in this shot?), we would be well on our way to Oz. Theme music: Can't You Feel a Brand New Day?, "The Wiz" soundtrack. I know I can.

Fantasia: For a girl who can't spell her own name, I would think that she would spend more time with the Letter People and less time making herself look like a poor man's Pepe Lepue (I actually think the cartoon skunk would be offended by her hair display.) Also, is it me or does Fanny's Kool-Aid smile (not as evident here) always suggest she would be a better fit on a Jerry Lewis telethon? Theme music: "It's a Small World, After All", Assorted Disney soundtracks.

Keyshia Cole: Where do I start? The bangs? The hair color? (I think blond actually works for her, so she should have stuck with that) That big freakin trucker tattoo?? Theme song: Ownlee Eue, Kwame. Cause only Keyshia would attempt this...
Ms. Keys: By all accounts, a pretty girl. Pretty on her left. And pretty on her right. One might even argue that she's so dang pretty she can't sleep at night.... (*Clutching the pearls.*) Navy works well on Alicia, but this looks like a dress she borrowed from her older, taller, more svelte sister. She's not a big girl by anyone's standards but the cut makes her look wider. Her hair looks like they put it on top of her head while she sat under the dryer, but forgot to take it out to finish it. I'm going to give her a pass because everyone has an off day. But fret not. No one remembers Ms. Ross's fashion mishaps in Mahogany, only her many triumphs. Live to shine another day, that's what I say. Theme song: Do You Know Where You're Going To?, Diana Ross, "Mahogany" soundtrack.

Ne-Yo I like him alot (he kinda reminds me of Michael J in his hey day). This is why I'm not going to talk about his old man hat. It's why I'm even okay with the shiny suit and church deacon shoes, actually. He has an old soul, goo gobs of talent and a genuine warm spirit, so the whole getup fits. *Singing* And I hate how much I luv youuuu boy. Aww, little Ne-Yo. Lol. Theme music: We are the World, Artists for Africa.

Jay-Z Shawn Carter really looks like the Chairman of the Board here. The grown man's lapel pin is a nice touch too. Theme song: Imaginary Player, Jay-Z. "I mean like I'm the pioneer to this ish, you know? I was popping Crystale when all y'all thought it was beer. Wearing that platinum when all y'all thought it was silver." Yessir.

Rihanna looks very "urban Tinkerbell". Electric blue works very well with her skintone. And I love the bracelet! (I gotta find a cheap version of that somewhere). Shoes are on point too. My pick for best dressed. Theme music: "The Glamorous Life," Sheila E. "She wears a long fur coat of mink, even in the summertime." Rock it girl!

Dee Dee Bridgewater looks like a strong gust of wind would send her airborne, but somehow I like it. Sue me. Lol. Not everyone could pull this off, but it works for her artsy, easy breezy naturale aesthetic. Kinda makes me want to hit up Tendrils in Brooklyn like back in the day when I still had natural hair and forked out $125 for twists. Before I sold out to the man and his counter-revolutionary ways. Lol. Dang you, no-lye Mizani. Theme song: "Dream on, Dreamer," Brand New Heavies. "Hate to put your two feet on the ground/So go on and step aside/ Release yourself and fly."

Well, that's all lovely gals and gents! Till next time, I remain yours truly.
-Mahogany Elle

Christmas Break Top Ten

2008-01-04T22:08:00.000-05:00

"And if you keep it young, your song is always sung."

-Randy Crawford & the Crusaders, Street Life

#1 The test of wills it takes to see if it's humanly possible to remain in ones pink pajamas the entire day. (Trust me, it is).

#2 Watching the first viable black candidate for president GET CRUNK and come away with victory in the Iowa caucus, hereby spawning the relaunch of those "Uppity Negro" t-shirts world wide. (I'm ordering two, one in pink and one in green! The audacity of hope ... loves it!! Methinketh Sam Cooke is right. A change gon' come. Oooh yes it is.)

#3 Within the span of two weeks being in three separate states in the midwest (Michigan), northeast (New Jersey) and southeast (Florida) and it somehow manages to be cold in each one. I guess Murphy's Law has a frequent flyer plan. Cause why the ham sandwich would I be wearing a wool coat in Florida!?! Dang it. Lol.

#4 Watching the late night shows with Leno, Letterman and O'Brien just to marvel at how funny the first and last ones look in those scruffy beards. This further confirms my theory that O'Brien is a leprechaun. It's why he dances like that. He just hides his pot of gold under his desk.

#5 Going to the theatre to see the Great Debaters and loving how it made me remember my passion as a high school debater. (Best speaker against Moorestown High School, Fall '97 thank ya sir. Lol) Why God made a way for me to be here in law school the first place. During Samantha Booke's speech and James Farmer Jr.'s closing before the distinguished Harvard alums I found myself pointing my right index finger toward the screen like an old Baptist deaconess. Tell da story chulrens!!! Those young men and women were amazing. "To be young, gifted and black, what a lovely precious dream!" Donny Hathaway sang. Amen and amen.
#6 Seeing my grandmother smile as my mother, cousin and I did a Soul Train line to Stevie Wonder's "As." Even better was her declaring that she was going to be our road manager and "make a lot of money off of us." Eighty-six, sweet as pie and still sassy. Gotta love her.

#7 Listening to the radio for hours. I am fully convinced that the best music station in the country is in Phi-la-del-phi-a. (Speaking of, is it criminal that I'll do practically do anything for a small chicken cheesesteak? And a Wawa soda. Good thing I'm away at school most of the year.)

#8 Reading the best biography of Muhammad Ali, King of the World and getting a great context for all of the forces and circumstances that made the man the man he was. Even better was reading it on a frigid Florida beach a day after New Years whilst getting menaced by seagulls. No lie, three of them cornered by beach chair after I momentarily laid a banana peel in the sand. I get up to throw it away and they are still like at me like, "Wassup?" Me: looks back, reads a few more pages. Looks up again. Birds: [Walking up on me, talking to each other, like "Brrrr" (Clipse)]. Me: "What do you want? I mean, if you're gully, we can get down..." [But thinking not really, cause I went to private school.]

Kay, that's only eight. But it's '08 so it's skraight. Ha that rhymed. That officially makes my rapping skills a shade better than LL Cool J's. Which isn't saying much. Oh well, they don't pay me for my mike (or math) skills. Till next time. Toodles. And Happy New Year!

- M. Dot

On the road with Obama and Lady O ...

2007-12-11T02:15:00.000-05:00

So...I'm working on exams now, but in my down time I have been following the Democratic primary with zeal. And even more zeal now that media mogul Oprah Winfrey has joined the fray, throwing her support, substantial influence and vigor behind a very worthy candidate, Harvard Law grad, former U. Chicago professor of Constitutional law, author, orator, Senator ... and hopefully a good look for President, Mr. Barack Obama. In case you missed it, Sen. Obama, and the popular talk show host, magazine publisher and businesswoman envigorated audiences in South Carolina and Iowa this past weekend. And from what I hear, Lady O plans to continue to hit the road in support of our favorite "clean and articulate" candidate.

Since the start of the race for the U.S. Presidency, I have gone back-and-forth between voting my brain or my heart. The "safe" bet by most accounts was Hillary Clinton. Mr. Obama, who is clearly qualified, brilliant, devoted and a host of other superlatives sadly is still part of an America that has not yet healed from the divisions of our birth. Still, alas, black. And so I followed the conventional wisdom. America will never elect a black president. No matter how smart he is or how presented. Or thoughtful on the issues. And besides Andrew Young, the once-youthful optimist who stood beside Dr. King, recently said so.

I thought with sadness at how very different the media and America would be if Barack were white. How they might not throw their support behind Hillary, just because the idea of electing a white woman, however cold, entitled and distant she is to the real concerns of real people, is somehow more palatable then letting one of Uncle Amos' distant descendants into the Big House at last. If only Barack was white, then I could support him. Because he would win. Hands down.

I let myself be lulled into this mode of thinking, even after having read Dreams of My Father, his candid and eloquent account of how he came to be, and watching that oh so poignant Democratic National Convention Speech back in '04, the summer I interned at Newsweek Magazine. I watched the speech twice on CNN on a little TV in the Harlem apartment with no A/C that I was subleasing. It must have been 95 degrees in that fifth-floor walkup. But all I could think about was, "The audacity of hope!" Yessir. Gives me chills still. Recently though, I had put all that summer optimism aside for the fall realism I would need to make an informed decision. (As I'm sure someone once told Harriet Tubman, "White folks aint never gon' give us nothin.' Might as well not try.") The underground railroad to the White House was alas a segregated train. It seemed so.

That was until I heard Oprah's speech this weekend in Iowa. For full disclosure, I am not even one of those tune in every day at four... "Miss Winfrey if I could jus' touch the hem of your garment I'll be made whole" type of fans. But occasionally the gazillionaire -- Lady O-- has good stuff to say. This is one of those times. She said put aside all of what the politicos, the pollsters, the Hillary-dipped mainstream media is telling you. And hope. See it for yourselves.

Here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_QJJOtT32C0

And in case you think I'm not giving ole Whitewater Hill her fair shake, please read what one of her minions had to say in response to a news story that Obama had cut her lead in NH, SC and in Iowa. Hmm... racist to say Oprah is a shame to her gender for supporting a black man?

You be the judge.

The site, which reports that Obama and Hill are now tied in NH, SC & Iowa:
http://www.411mania.com/politics/columns/64871

And the comment following the story:
Go Oprah! We ALL know if anyone can’t take the attention off of obama’s no experience lack of leadership, refusing to show up and vote in the senate on Iran, Abortion measures etc... Seeking a trillion-dollar tax hike and raising the retirement age for Social Security!!!! Is not in favor of a health care plan to cover all children rich or poor and that he cannot make a decision on his own. You can….YOU have disgraced American woman, YOU ARE A DISGRACE TO THE FEMALE GENDER OPRAH! SHAME ON YOU, now as a last ditch effort you throw Dr Kings name at the black voters, now American knows where you stand on race… SHAMEFUL ACT...I SUGGEST WE ALL TUNE OUT BOTH!!! WAKE UP AMERICA! Its time we stop playing with Oprah and elect a QUALIFIED PRESIDENT!!! not just a man because he’s black and oprah says so, she may know soap and books, but why in he world would anyone jeopardize your future because a TV talk show host said so?... This weekends Oprah circus, will not help obama, its make us all realize Oprahs running the show not obama...Our great country needs a qualified leader, maybe if oprah was legally running, but obama is…. Glad the dog and pony show is over Oprah is a shame to her gender, yes the same gender that made her who she is today and she turns her back on them in a second when race is involved... I think its time WE ALL tune out the oprahbama show, and let’s elect a REAL Presidential candidate like CLINTON!
Posted By: (Guest) on December 10, 2007 at 10:02 AM

*Sidenote: CNN, Fox, NBC, where ARE you on this story?*

"No Comment"

2007-08-24T11:13:00.000-04:00

So by now you all have heard about Juanita Bynum . . .

But just in case, courtesy of the Associated Press:

ATLANTA — Juanita Bynum, a televangelist who has won a national following with sermons about women's empowerment, was badly bruised in a fight with her estranged husband as they met in an attempt to reconcile, police said. No charges were filed in connection with the confrontation between Bynum and preacher Thomas W. Weeks III, founder of Global Destiny churches, police said Thursday. The fight happened early Wednesday in the parking lot of the Renaissance Concourse Hotel near Atlanta's airport, and a hotel bellman pulled Weeks off Bynum, Officer Ronald Campbell said. "She was bruised up and battered," Campbell told the Atlanta Journal-Constitution. "She had purple bruising around her neck and upper torso."

I thought of many ways to start this post. I first thought of Bynum's quote "This too shall pass" in her media statement that she was recovering from her injuries inflicted by her "Bishop" (quotes intentional) husband Thomas Weeks III. But I didn't think that fully represented the gravity of the matter. After all, anything shall pass if we wait long enough. A spate of unfortunate circumstances. A rainstorm. Gas. Lol.

Then I kept reading the news accounts. A number of followers and ministers expressed sadness, dismay at the situtation the fiery "prophetess" found herself in. Some women expressed fear that if a powerful woman of God could be so preyed upon, what did this say for the rest of us? Some people read much into the first media accounts that the couple were both fighting. Sitting in my hairdresser's chair Thursday afternoon, she weighed in. "She looks like she has a temper. I think she can hold her own!"

Under the dryer a few minutes later, I grabbed a nearby hairbook. Ironically Bynum was on the cover, looking "black church chic." Extensive black weave. Frosted pink lipstick and prominent lip liner. Skin glowing as if literally touched by an angel. Inside she talked about her beauty regimen. Kiehls whole lineup. Olive oil for dry skin. She spoke about her wedding, which, news reports say featured her wearing a bodice hand sewn with crystals and a 7.76 carat ring. What the story didn't say was that she was the wife of an abuser. A broken woman. A sheep primed for the slaughter. I wondered if she had seen that other side of the "Bishop" at the time the story ran. Had he offered her the "right hand of fellowship" by then? Was she yet in denial?

To a former reporter Juanita Bynum's situation seemed a perfect story, perhaps fodder for a future book. "Juanita Bynum, Breaking Free of the Chains of Abuse." $17.99, $20.99 for a consecrated handkerchief too. Now at Barnes and Noble. As a Christian, it seemed yet another sad reason to fuel my doubt of the institution we call the black church. Where were the leaders of Christ who speak up when wrong is done? Why was syndicated radio host Michael Baisden the only one pressing loudly for accountability? ("Why is everyone afraid of these preachers?" he asked listeners emphatically yesterday. "They are men and women like you and me!!")

To me, perhaps sadder than the event itself was the non-statement of uber-Bishop T.D. Jakes, of the Potter's House just outside of Dallas, TX. As I'm sure you know, Jakes is the black leader Bush looked to after Hurricane Katrina. With his seasoned sermons, gazillion member church and T.V. audience, he wields more influence over the blacks than the Congressional Black Caucus, Al Sharpton and Colonel Sanders all put together. I actually went to his church once this summer and found him to be refreshingly humble and true to the Word. (However I would be lying if I didn't say that the post-church book sales lines and made the place seem like there should be a Jesus-themed Ferris Wheel outside in the parking lot.)

But when Bishop Jakes was contacted by the media about Bynum this week, his response was more telling than a thousand sermons. "No comment," the Potter's House said. Perhaps he knew more about the situation than he was letting on. Maybe Bynum had an abusive personality too? Maybe she had beat her husband in the past and this was a case of battered men's rage? Maybe he didn't approve of her union in the first place and considered this to be her just desserts? (Rumors float that Bynum and Jakes parted ways in the past over some differences). Maybe he wanted to wait until all the facts came out before coming out on one side or another? Still, I expected at least a general word for those -- Christians and non-believers alike -- who read the news stories. Something like, "We at the Potter's House are praying for Bynum and Weeks," or "We love Rev. Bynum and her family" or ... dare I say "Jesus does not condone abuse." For example Rev. Cynthia Hale, a dynamic Georgia minister said she was saddened by the incident and spoke of Bynum's faith and leadership in her community.

Instead, the Potter's House chose to speak by not speaking. And in this case, "No comment" said a million words.

The Way of the World

2007-08-09T22:27:00.000-04:00

"You will find peace of mind if you look way down in your heart and soul.

Hey, don't hesitate cause the world seems cold.

Stay young at heart. Cause you're never old. That's the way of the world..."

- Earth, Wind and Fire, "That's the Way of the World"

So, I haven't been around. If anyone is still reading (Hello-llo Hello-llo! Lol) I have to apologize. Summer has been productive but awfully stressful. I feel like sometimes I have turned off my creative brain and replaced it with a Blue book, expandable brown folders and enough highlighters to paint me green and call me Miss Christmas. I understand why people get up n' out this field as soon as the loans are paid off. I for one have already formed a multilayered plan.

Since my quest to become the wife/ chief baby mama of a certain NFL balla has not materialized, I have to use my head . . . or my juggling skills. I will either A) join the circus that has taken hold of the crimson rouge and clown pants wearer Ms. Lauryn "L Boogie" Hill lately or B) Give it all up, defect to Times Square and sleep in a tent made of old law books. I make a pretty good trashcan fire. I just have to buy some of those gloves with the fingers cut off.

But before all that happens, I gotta stick the original plan through. Sigh. So here I am Kizzying it up for YT. Or as I heard Tina Turner sing, "workin' fo' da man ery night and day." I just know one thing . . . "rain don' last fo'ever/ Sun gotta shine."

-M. Elle

** Sidenote -- After I posted, I saw that today August 10, 2007, I made 10,000 readers. Yay! Law school has taken much of my time away from writing. But y'all still stop by every so often. Thank you for still reading. I promise to be around more often. **

Staring out my Window ...

2007-05-15T18:33:00.000-04:00

"It's always dangerous when everybody's sleeping and I've been thinking, can we be alone? Can we be alone?/ When will we get the time to be just friends?" -Amy Winehouse

This is very stream of consciousness. Fair warning *smile*

I'm thanking God for time to sit and daydream. I'm looking out my window wondering how things are always greener after a big rainstorm.

I'm thanking God for good music. New melodies. (For anyone who cares, Amy Winehouse is the best thing since beef patties and coco bread, comparable to chasing the ice cream man and catching him. And she's mostly assuredly better than having to get your natural black tail in the house before the street lights came on.) I don't give honorary status out too often, but she's right up there with Teena Marie and the Average White Band =)

I'm thanking God for end of exams and for the beginning of summer job in a new city. Dallas here I come. I can't promise to want to remain out west forever. (I ride for the East Coast! Lol) But I sho' like beef BBQ. Hmm...quandary

I'm thanking God that he cares about all of my incongruous parts and sentiments (I'm a blue-state Christian with some friends who are gay and an affinity for Wu Tang, flossing like Diana Ross in Mahogany and school snobbery. Did I mention that sometimes I sit and wish I was Kim Porter (but with a degree.) Lol. See, nonsensical at bare minimum.

I'm thanking God for creative minds. Every time someone comes along with a new piece of artwork or song or dance (the "Walk it out" excepted. Sorry.) There's evidence of the vast expanse of God. As much as we think we already know or have discovered, there's still more to examine, learn or master. To create. That's amazing. Think about it.

I'm thanking God for family (blood & friends who have become blood)

I'm thanking God...

Possible Impossibilities

2007-05-03T22:02:00.000-04:00

"The glamorous ... ooh the glamorous, glamorous.

The glamorous. Ooh, the flossy, flossy."

~Fergie

Never did I think the day would come when I was shamelessly quoting Fergie. Lol. I couldn't stand it when the Black Eyed Peas took her on in all of her inbred trucker's daughter/former Methie glory to serve as the dancing poster child for a crossover Grammy. But alas, just the same, I can't sincerely knock the hustle, since the powers that work the BEP apparently operate under Jigga's creed: "I'm not a business man, I'm a business man."

Today was full of all sorts of possible impossibilities. We have a black man running for president who was just endorsed by a black woman who is essentially is the sitting president. No, not Condi Rice. Oprah! And they tell me we haven't made it. Flavor of Love 2, Charm School, Whitney, Bobby and Mike Tyson notwithstanding, on days like today, I beam with pride that there is some sliver of hope for the race.

*Clasping my arms singing* We shall overcome, one day ay ay ay ay."

I do fret for Barack though. Love that brotha. Admire his hutzpah. But I do hope some enterprising never-been-to-a-dentist yahoo doesn't make Michelle a nouveau Coretta with this race. Beyond being the wife to the first black president, it would be fabulous to see her get to interior decorate the White House. First item of business: A velvet poster of MLK in the living room and some plastic covered couches for when the relatives from Chicago come to town. As for the rest, top shelf all the way. I'm thinking clean lines, neutral colors. Maybe some prints from Kenya. The possibilities are endless.

"The glamorous... ooh the flossy, flossy"

She's just Jenny from the Block...

2007-03-13T14:43:00.000-04:00

"Don't be mad about the cash that I got
I'm just Jenny from the block.
Used to have a little now I have a lot
But I still know where I came from."
- J. Lo

The clouds have parted. The snow has melted and I am actually coming to believe that spring will actually make it here to Michigan. There is indeed a Balm in Gilead, apparently :) Bossip and YBF are keeping me sane these days as I try to live vicariously through the celebs who have way more interesting lives than I do right about now. I am wading through papers upon reading and more papers. Lawd! But now that I see the sun, I think will try to get crunk ... well as crunk as one might get in the library.

Poring the blogosphere, I envied the D listers who made their way to the Soul Train awards. Yes they were sporting reams of Yakky B weave, and with the notable exception of the fab LeToya Luckett, simply cheap or faux leopard skin dresses that looked like they might have bought them from the same city block stands that sell those velvet Martin Luther King Jr. portraits. But despite the tacky on demand, they had no Contracts to read. No Constitutional law to further confuse themselves with. If I could say that, I might go around looking like "Topsy" too. Lol.

Well I sad to report that amongst the masses was my girl, the oh so fabulous JHud.

*A moment of silence for her departed A-list status*

I scrolled down and saw that not only was she at the Soul Train awards, but she had just been given a free lifetime card to Burger King.

JHud, why oh why? When I read this I first thought, this is simply false. When you are already rolling on double Ds and are a 12+, like JHud you need not publicize your surplus fabulosity to everyone on God's green earth in the guise of free hamburgers. Take it from me! Lol.

But then I thought, I can sit on the couch and think about it or I can help all the curvy girls in the world by taking action. So in the name of Coretta Scott and Maya Angelou and Rosa Parks I have gotten on board that old school bus to equality. I am ringing my grandmother to see if we can helicopter in a quick and easy etiquette class for her. A few highlights from the syllabus....

Item #1 ... We do not gobble up our fast food (in public).
Item #2 ... We fire PR people who tell us it's appropriate to perform at the Soul Train Awards. To quote the bama-speak of Beyonce, who was conspicuously absent, "You must not know" that is the kiss of death for the A-listers Jenny. You should have known that any event featuring Marques Houston the alien and Omarion as headliners was ... well, I don't think I have to say it.
Item #3 ... We do not use poor non-agreeing subjects and verbs in our Oscar acceptance speeches. (We can cry daintily, but not like Big Momma died.)
Item #4 ... We do not constantly pose in pictures, and magazine covers with our mouths wide open. You might catch flies, or something else in there.
Item #5 ... If Hollywood wants to give us a big movie role, daggone it, we take it. Effie gotta eat!! But pass the crusted salmon, hold the cheeseburgers.

And now I must go assemble my JHud intervention team... Oh, a woman's work is never done. Lol.

St. Elsewhere

2007-01-02T01:02:00.000-05:00

Way over yonder there's a new frontier.
Would it be so hard for you to come and visit me here?
I understand...
Would you send me a message in a bottle then baby?
~Gnarls Barkley

I listen to "St. Elsewhere" and feel like they know what I'm thinking these days. It's a New Year, but there are so many things from the past year to carry forward. Blessings to be grateful for. Loss to incorporate.

I haven't written in a while not because I haven't had the material, but because the past month has left me at a loss. My father, at the age of 56, passed away after a long battle with heart disease and a host of other ailments. I got the call one early morning in late November. From my brother's voice -- a measured combination of cool and detached sorrow -- I knew something wasn't right. My father's spirit had taken flight earlier that morning.

Like many parents and their children, our relationship was nuanced. I loved and respected him. We debated at times. Argued in others. He taught me how to think. Showed me the example of working hard for what you want. Was a walking collection of quotes, each of which he would tell us as if it was the first time. "There are no shortcuts to any place worth going", "The sky is the limit", "You stand on the shoulders of your ancestors" and perhaps the most resplendent, "Daddy loves you."

He's the reason I love Stevie Wonder. Gladys Knight. The O'Jays. He's the reason that I skip church most Sundays and instead opt for Sunday Morning or Face the Nation. Or sleep. He's the reason I try to think deeply about issues. (On car rides to school he'd catch me quietly staring out the window and say, "A penny for your thoughts. What are you pondering?") He's the reason I decided to go to law school. (Once when I was about eight or so, he told me I was good at playing semantics but to save my word-bending for a judge. Lol.)

He was fashionably unfashionable. He wore the same pair of British Knights hightops from like '89 to '96, with those old school white tube socks pulled all the way up his knees. (You know those socks.) "Daddy," I would say, "can you please get some new sneakers?" He'd earnestly reply, "Nuthin's wrong with these. I have one pair of sneakers and they're going to last me six years." I would look at him and sigh in reply. He was the grand champion of trash talking while doing everything from playing me in checkers to battling my brother in H-O-R-S-E in the backyard. He taught me how to ride a bike. And parallel park. We watched NBA basketball and he proceeded to tell me everything he knew about every player. Kareem invented the Sky Hook, Wilt Chamberlain scored the most points in a game, Julius "Dr. J" Erving and Moses Malone were the best thing to ever happen to the Philadelphia 76ers. He introduced me to The Temptations ("David Ruffin with a Tuffin"), the Jackson Five, Earth Wind and Fire (my fave group to date) & Parliament Funkadelic. The music was mine because it was his.

He was a man of contradictions. Strong and fearless but yet vulnerable. Serious but charmingly funny. I really can't encapsulate all of things he meant to me. He gave me the task of writing his obit a long time ago when my sister passed. I tried to pull it off. But written words don't really do it. How do write down a life when the real meaning is in the advice given. The song sung. The hopes birthed. The prom date he once threatened. ( Sorry J.) Lol.

Perhaps for now, while the tears still flow liberally at any slight reminder of the man that was, it's best to use something I learned the first time we watched "The Godfather" -- one of his favorites -- together.

Omerta. Silence.

~M. Elle

On that day...

2006-11-22T11:55:00.000-05:00

"Sinner man where you gonna run to?
Oh sinner man where you gonna run to?
Oh sinner man, where you gonna run to-o-o on that day
I ran to the sea. The sea was bleedin'.
I ran to the sea. The sea was bleedin'.
I ran to the sea. The sea was bleedin'.
Oh on that day."
- Nina Simone

I remember the summer of 1999. My pastor was praying for us as we returned to college, and he looked at me and said "God has placed his hands upon you." I believed that. But knowing and doing sometimes are two different things.

In the story of Jonah, we would always talk about how it's not possible to run from God. God told him to do something. Brotha was scared, so he thought he would just sail on away. One whale's stomach later and he figured out that that plan wasn't going to work out. Lol. Paul wrote later that neither "height nor depth, angels nor demons, things present nor things to come shall be able to separate us from the love of God."

Sometimes I feel like I've been through so much it's hard to trust the pulling of God. He gives us strengths and gifts that we can choose not to or choose to use. But it's often hard to decipher what exactly we should be using them for. It's even harder to know what our calling is sometimes. But sometimes we do know and we don't pay attention or we're scared so we pretend we don't hear God. That's when we end up in the whale's stomach. Not preaching, just speaking from experience. I ask God for direction, but he often doesn't yell, doesn't split the clouds. He forces us to listen for his whisper.

I pray for the faith to heed :)

M Dot

Pop, Pop, Pop Goes my Mind...

2006-11-10T16:03:00.000-05:00

So I have whatever flu-like virus is going around on campus. Woke up and it felt like I was toting a bag of rocks on my head. (At first I thought it was one too many margaritas from last night (That would equal a whole "2". Lol) But my throat was also John Blazing. Argh. As someone who never gets sick, best believe I'm gonna play it up when I have the opportunity :)

Anyway, my day didn't get any better when I learned that Gerald Levert passed away... at 40! Lawd help us. I swear if they don't get black men by clubbing them over the head when they're driving in the wrong neighborhood, they get them on the streets. If not on the streets, then with heart disease (see Gerald Levert or Barry White.) Or as in Gregory Hines, August Wilson and now Ed Bradley's case... all too early with cancer. I hate to be macabre, but what is really going on?

Have to find my Levert music. I keep hearing "Pop, Pop, Pop Goes my Mind"...

Almost There...

2006-11-01T20:01:00.000-05:00

Now playing* "Almost There" - The Jackson Five

"No matter how hard, the times may seem.
Don't give up our plans, don't give up our dreams.
No broken bridges can turn us around.
Cause what we're searching for, will soon be found.

Hey good people, how ya doin'? How ya momma doin'? Yours truly, M. Dot has been MIA for good reason. I've been serving time. LOL.

Law school is no joke. And that's the God honest truth. I should be getting another line jacket by the time this year is over. It's that serious :)

So much has happened in the world since last we rapped. Flava Flave has spawned another love child... Janet's back (and still black. Lol)... the Tigers lost the World Series... Halloween has come and gone (I was in the library dressed up as student afraid of end of the semester finals)... Reese and her hubby split. I guess it's like George Benson sings, "Everything must change/ Nothing stays the same." I don't really have anything to say that's not related to Torts law or not related to writing a legal memo. Yuck... I have turned into a law student drone.

The people here are cool. The weather is cold, but that was to be expected. I love my place and the fact that I am close to my diva, newly turned 85-year-old grandmother, who still manages to outdress me on a regular basis! Love her too much. Lol. I am trying to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Pending I do alright, I will have another set of opportunities I didn't have before I got here and another set of skills that I can use to help people... or sell out for filthy lucre. Hee. Hee. But right now it's a process. I am in the thick of it.

I feel like Harriet.

Will let you know when I cross dat ole rivah. Lol

Mahogany on the View

2006-07-25T15:55:00.000-04:00

"...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.

On All Fours

2006-07-04T11:59:00.000-04:00

Happy Fourth of July one and all! In honor of Independence Day, I've compiled a list of fours. Enjoy...

Four shoe lines I like: Nine West, Steve Madden, BCBG, Adidas
Four songs I hate: Jiggle It (by Young Someyoungnegro or other), anything post-Fergie by the Black Eyed Peas, Unbreakable by Alicia Keys and For You by Kenny Lattimore
Four men I'd marry (*smile*): Idris Elba, Dhani Jones, Quest Love, Barack... oops, missed my chance
Four words I'd never want to hear: You were almost hired...
Four words I'd always want to hear: I do love you
Four stores I love: Banana Republic, Lord and Taylor, Bloomie's, DSW
Four flavors to try... in Philly water ice: cherry, lemon, vanilla, tangerine
Four people I'd die to meet: Andre 3000, Nikki Giovanni, Earth Wind and Fire, Idris Elba
Four quotables: "Is every nigga with dreds for the cause? Is every nigga with golds for the fall? Naw..." (Outkast), "Beauty is truth, truth beauty, that is all ye know on earth and all ye need to know" (Keats), "Be author of your own horoscope" (Common), "Caint worry bout what another nigga think, now that's liberation and bay-bay I want it" (Kast).
Four albums that would accompany me on a deserted island: Earth, Wind and Fire "That's the Way of the World", Stevie Wonder "Songs in the Key of Life", Anita Baker "Greatest Hits", Sergio Mendes "Greatest Hits"
Four words that describe my current ethos: live.love.write.happy

Tis all.
*smile*

The (Pseudo) Glamorous Life

2006-06-26T09:46:00.000-04:00

Now playing: "What Cha Gonna Do with my Lovin", Stephanie Mills

So last Friday, I skiddadled from work early to doll up for my chapter's anniversary celebration in PA. I pulled out a dress I had only worn once before for a New Year's Eve fete in the District. Luckily my recent amped up visits to the gym counteracted all the Au Bon Pain Asiago cheese bagels I had been getting in as of late. The dress, a deep red, fit magically. I liked to think I was au courant in current. Get it?!!! Lol...

I rolled out with a few soror friends of mine (shout out to La and her linesister, M). What awaited us was a nice spread in a locale plush with chandeliers and a spiraling staircase inside. Outside, a great gray fountain heralded our entrances. The hors d'oeuvres were grand (scallops, bruschetta... some caviar that I merely admired from afar (ahem, I've not yet arrived at that stop. Lol)

We all chatted and giggled, everyone cheery because we got a chance to dress up and be cute. And I don't know what y'all heard bout them AKAs, but we do know how to do the dang thang if I so say so myself *smile*. After mingling, it was on to the next room for dinner and music. And this, my friends, is where the affair took a turn for the worse. To illustrate, let us, beloved, pretend we are, alas in the Sunday mawnin' get-happy service. I'm the preacher.

Me: "One"' (let the church say "one"),
Me: "Man" (let the church say "man")
Me: "Band" (the church is now silent)

Yes, I said it... our gala performer was a one. man. band. (*Holding head in hands*)

I cannot illustrate the atrocity that was this man without demostrating some of the selections that he thought befit our event. Exhibit A: "What a Wonderful World" by Mr. Louis Armstrong. Mind you, this man had neither trumpet nor Ole Satchmo. What he had was a keyboard with sound effects. What he had was the unnerving tendency was to try to imitate the people whose songs he was attempting to sing. *Our keyboarder... I'll call him Mr. Bojangles... sings in a voice that suggests he gargles with marbles* "And I sayyyy to myselffff, what a wonderful wwwworld." Simply put: the worst.

Was this all you ask? Ha, ha. Silly you. Surely you jest. For the man would not let us leave until we heard his version of "I Believe in You and Me" by the Four Tops (note to all wedding type singers out there, please let Levi Stubbs and the brothas handle this one. For the love of all...), Montell Jordan's "This is How We Do it" (this one is actually too painful to recount in detail. I am not a fan of Montell Jordan. At all. But I would give him permission to kick Bojangles' tail if he saw him in the street. Really, it was that bad.) The kicker was *drumroll please* "America, the Beautiful" by the late Ray Charles. We joked that instead of mingling and chatting, we should have been standing at attention ready to salute the flag. I would have preferred to offer my 21 gun salute at Mr. Bojangles' feet if only to see how fast he could dance. Lol.

Just kidding.

Maybe.

Living my life...

2006-06-20T13:19:00.000-04:00

"Like it's golden... golden..."

So I'm waiting to hear back from my colleague about the editing job. Turns out the person who has it now isn't sure if she wants to leave completely or stay and work part-time. In the meantime, I have definitely secured my spot for law school. Struggled with the decision and with what school (paralysis by analysis strikes again! Lol), but I feel comfortable in it.

Earlier this week, I just got my first freelance piece for a mag I've always wanted to write for. So excited, as a writing M. Elle is a happy M.Elle. And aside from pining away for a car that I can't yet afford and abiding by an... eek... budget until I get paid (in peanuts) next week, life is grand -- really grand.

Isn't it really nice when you just be in the moment? When you can just sit and take time to be thankful for all the wonderful people (friends, family, sorors) and opportunities God puts in your path? I am totally in that moment now. Totally blessed. Totally thankful.

*smile*

Go?

2006-06-09T09:47:00.000-04:00

Now playing: "Go", Common

"Thought forever it would last for/ But forever moved faster."

So as always, I seem to find myself at a crossroads, one choice will propel me ever forwards towards my dream (magazine editor), another towards stability and filthy (Range Rover-type) lucre (law school). Up to this point, I had fully turned my attention towards the latter... fed up with being a fact-check monkey, working for silly editors and living the pseudo-glamorous life of calling up celeb reps to ask things like "Did Terrence Howard actually carry a man-purse to the Oscars? Is it true that Amerie can dress waaaay better than she sings? And that Cee-Lo looks like that crab from Sponge Bob Square Pants?" (Answers are yes to all three, in case you were wondering. Lol). After an email from an old colleague mentioned an editing position that might be opening, I found myself once again excited by the life of media. And... once again, back to the drawing board. Back to paralysis by analysis, as my dad would call it...

When I was little I always thought of adulthood as some forever, far away place that I would go to once I was tall enough, someplace long in the distance. It was someplace where I could do what I wanted and no one could tell me to come inside when the street lights came on, or to make me eat liver and squash, or to make sure my jacket was zipped up to my neck. I would be setting the rules, I would be determining what I wanted. I would, alas, be the boss of me. Now, as irony has it, now that I am here -- the question is, what is it that I want?

:) M. Elle

Celeb Quiz

2006-06-06T16:37:00.000-04:00

Otherwise known as lazy posting *smile*

yours truly,
~M. Elle

Which celeb are you like?

1. Which describes your perfect date?
a. Candlelight dinner for two
b. Amusement Park
c. Roller blading in the park
d. Rock Concert
e. Have dinner & see a movie
f. Dinner at home with a loved one

2. What is your favorite type of music?
a. Rock and Roll
b. Alternative
c. Soft Rock
d. Classical
e. Christian
f. Jazz (actually R&B... but it's not on here. I smell d-i-s-c-r-i-m-i-n-a-t-i-o-n! LOL)

3. What is your favorite type of movie?
a. Comedy
b. Horror
c. Musical
d. Romance
e. Documentary
f. Mystery

4. Which of the following jobs would you choose if you were
given only these choices?
a. Waiter/Waitress
b. Sports Player
c. Teacher
d. Policeman
e. Bartender
f. Business person

5. Which would you rather do if you had an hour to waste?
a. Work out
b. Make out
c. Watch TV
d. Listen to the radio
e. Sleep
f. Read

6. Of the following colors, which do you like best?
a. Yellow
b. White
c. Sky blue
d. Teal
e. Gold
f. Red

7. Which one of the following would you like to eat right now?
a. Ice cream
b. Pizza
c. Sushi
d. Pasta
e. Salad
f. Lobster Tail (Duh... Lol)

8. Which is your favorite holiday?
a. Halloween
b. Christmas
c. New Year's
d. Valentine's Day
e. Thanksgiving
f. Fourth of July

9. If you could go to any of the following places, which would it be?
a. Reno
b. Spain
c. Las Vegas
d. Hawaii
e. Hollywood
f. British Columbia

10. Of the following, who would you rather spend time with?
a. Someone who is smart
b. Someone with good looks
c. Someone who is a party animal
d. Someone who has fun all the time
e. Someone who is very emotional
f. Someone who is fun to be with

Now total up your points on each question:
1. a-4 b-2 c-5 d-1 e-3 f-6
2. a-2 b-1 c-4 d-5 e-3 f-6
3. a-2 b-1 c-3 d-4 e-5 f-6
4. a-4 b-5 c-3 d-2 e-1 f-6
5. a-5 b-4 c-2 d-1 e-3 f-6
6. a-1 b-5 c-3 d-2 e-4 f-6
7. a-3 b-2 c-1 d-4 e-5 f-6
8. a-1 b-3 c-2 d-4 e-5 f-6
9. a-4 b-5 c-1 d-4 e-3 f-6
10.a-5 b-2 c-1 d-3 e-4 f-6

NOW, take your total and find out which Movie Star you are:
(10-17 points) You are JANET JACKSON:
You are wild and crazy and you know it. You know how to have fun, but
you may take it to extremes. You know what you are doing though, and
are much in control of your own life. People don't always see things
your way, but that doesn't mean that you should do away with your
beliefs. Try to remember that your wild spirit can lead to hurting
yourself and others.

(18-26 points) You are GLADYS KNIGHT:
You are fun, friendly, and popular! You are a real crowd pleaser. You
have probably been out on the town your share of times, yet you come
home with the values that your mother taught you. Marriage and children
are very important to you, but only after you have fun. Don't let the
people you please influence you to stray.

(27-34 points) You are BEYONCE KNOWLES:
You are cute, and everyone loves you. You are a best friend that no one
takes the chance of losing. You never hurt feelings and seldom have
your own feelings hurt. Life is a breeze. You are witty, and calm most
of the time. Just keep clear of back stabbers, and you are worry-free.

(35-42 points) You are PATTI LABELLE:
You are a lover. Romance, flowers, and wine are all you need to enjoy
yourself. You are serious about all commitments and are a family
person. You call your Mom every Sunday, and never forget a Birthday.
Don't let your passion for romance get confused with the real thing.

(43-50 points) You are MAYA ANGELOU:
You are smart, a real thinker. Every situation is approached with a
plan. You are very healthy in mind and body. You don't take crap from
anyone. You have only a couple of individuals that you consider "real
friends." You teach strong family values. Keep your feet planted in
them, but don't overlook a bad situation when it does happen.

(51-60 points) You are OPRAH WINFREY:
Everyone is in awe of you. You know what you want and how to get it.
You have more friends than you know what to do with. Your word is your
bond. Everyone knows when you say something it is money in the b! ank.
You attract the opposite sex. Your intelligence overwhelms most. Your
memory is the next thing to photographic. Everyone admires you because
you are so considerate and lovable. You know how to enjoy life and
treat people right.

My Favorite Things, Take II

2006-05-26T10:01:00.000-04:00

*Note to reader: This original post has been amended. Yes, there is some truth to the idea that women can't make up their minds. So...sue me*

Now playing: "My Favorite Things", John Coltrane.

On the ride into work today, inspired by the lovely melody of Mr. Coltrane on the horn and the unflappable Mr. Tyner on the keys, I thought about some of things I love in music. *singing* "These are a few of my favorite things..."

Twenty-five songs I couldn't live without:
1. "Keep Your Head to the Sky" Earth Wind and Fire: If I had an iPod with one song on it, this would be it. Philip's heavenly falsetto, the precise guitar, and the skyward message just makes me think. Whatever the challenge, whatever the task, looking upwards from whence your help comes just motivates us to work harder, be stronger, understand our place in this infinite universe. To endure. And Mr. Bailey sings, "Master told me one day, I'd find peace in every way/ But in search for the clue, wrong things I was bound to do/ Keep my head to the sky for the clouds to tell me why/ As I grew and with strength, master kept me as I repent/ And he said keep your head to the sky."

2. "Another Star" Stevie Wonder
3. "My Favorite Things" Coltrane

4. "Kiss of Life" Sade: Maybe it's the soft opening key strokes, the velvet sax or something about how the Nigerian-English chanteuse sings "There must have been an angel by my side/ Something heavenly led me to you/ Look at the sky, it's the color of love." I grew up on mixtapes that my dad would make featuring Ms. Adu. I mimicked the woodwind in her voice, trying to lend my best childlike imitation to "Is It a Crime?". When this song came out, I realized that this was as pure as music could get. *singing* "Look the sky is full of love."

5. "The Glow of Love" Luther Vandross
6. "Stay This Way" Brand New Heavies
7. "Fantasy" (Live) Earth Wind and Fire

8. "Dream Merchant" The New Birth: I think New Birth, which I discovered in high school, is quite possibly the most underrated R&B band of all time. From the opening swells -- when the preacher-like Leslie Wilson sings "Hey, hey mista dream merchant, bring her back to me/ Make my dreams come true" -- to the rising of the drums and the "woooo woooo" of the able background singers, to the anguished rap that polishes things off ["Mista dream merchant, would you please do me a favor. If you happen to see my baby somewhere, tell her I'm waiting with open arms. Would you please make my dreams come true?"], this song spells c-l-a-s-s-i-c.

9. "Best of Your Heart" Rufus feat. Chaka Khan

10. "Ain't No Stoppin Us Now" McFadden and Whitehead: Ask anyone from Philly what the city anthem is and whether they're eight or eighty, they'll tell you it's Ain't No Stoppin Us Now. Maybe it's cause it's the personification of the Sound of Philadelphia. The driving bass and drums, the silky soul voice of the duo dressed in white seventies suits... the fact that you play this and I guarantee you one thing: you will start a massive electric slide of strangers, and people will get to partying like fan bangs and medallions are still in. *singing* "Don't chu let nothin' nothin' stand in your way/ I want y'all to listen, listen to every word I say. Ain't no ntoppin us now. We're on the move." Can I get a soul clap for the getdown good people?!

11. "You Remind Me" Patrice Rushen

12. "No One Can Love You More" Phyllis Hyman: Probably my favorite songstress. Ever. Her voice is rich, flute-like and ebbs and flows like the swelling of the ocean. Okay that was decidedly wack...LOL...but it's the only description that really fits her sound. It's like she doesn't hit one note at time, she hits a flood of them -- effortlessly, powerfully. So when she sings "Questions people ask of me for loving you/ Why should I say the reasons of my own?" you really believe her. Though we know she wasn't lucky enough to live to see that lasting love, she breathes it easily in this song. RIP Ms. Hyman.

13. "Just The Two of Us" Grover Washington Jr. feat. Bill Withers

14. "Exodus" Eddie Harris: The coolest jazz cut on earth. Period. Though it's shy of just three minutes, it exudes social poise and graciousness (those clad in apple and salmon will know what I mean), the upward mobility of the DuBois talented tenth, the cool of Joe Louis and Billie Holiday in their prime and the boogie black people from one of the those Escalade commercials *smile*. Honestly, I love it.

15. "Everlasting Love" Chaka Khan
16. "Running Away" Roy Ayers
17. "It's Your World" Common

18. "What They Do" Roots: Okay, I'm putting it out there now for all the chickens that might be reading. I'm marrying Quest Love. So... step off. Lol. I love the 'fro, yes, but what I really love about Quest and the Illadelph boys is their laid-back cool. If we had to take it back to high school, me thinketh these were not the cats who were getting wild to the gangsta stuff. They seemed to have been the folks you would have do your AP English homework... a class of people I like to call the cool nerds. (I still have my membership card, I think. Lol). From the nice drum kicks to the lovely guitar, "What They Do" is what Black Thought would call "Official hip hop consumption/ The fifth thumpin'/ Keeping your party thumping with an original something." Yeah. Nice.

19. "I Love Music" O' Jays

20. "I'm Gonna Make You Love Me" Temptations and the Supremes: Mr. Kendricks was lovely ("I'm gonna do all things for you a girl wants her man to do/ Oh baby...Every minute, every hour, I'm gonna shower you with love and affection/ Look out it's coming in your direction.") And Miss Diana held her own too. ("And I'm gonna use every trick in the book/ I'll try my best to get you hooked/ Hey babyyy"). Yeah, that line spoke for itself. Lol. The song is golden.

21. "Sunshine" Enchantment

22. "That's the Way I Feel About You" Bobby Womack: Let us pause a minute and have church in preparation for the opening lines. "You know, I'm a true believer that if you get anything out of life, you've gotta to put up with the toils and strife." Don't think I need to say anything more. Okay, one thing -- love this guy. I do. And Mr. Womack sings. "So if I'm weak for you, I don't minnnd." Man, if we had cullud men who would sing stuff like this today... Okay, I digress. Lol.

23. "Golden Lady" Stevie Wonder
24. "Be Thankful" William DeVaughn

25. "Home" The Wiz Soundtrack feat. Stephanie Mills: You cannot go to a black talent show or pageant without hearing this song, "You're Gonna Love Me" from Dreamgirls (btw, can't wait for Jennifer Hudson's take), and Whitney's "Greatest Love of All." As the subtitle to Nikki Giovanni's "Ego Trippin" goes, "There must be a reason why." Ms. Mills, in her Broadway debut, brings the house down, singing of living triumphantly in the world of Oz. "We must look inside ourselves to find/ A world full of love. Like yours, like mine. Like home." I've heard it so many times, but still gives me chills. Sing it girl!!

Another one

2006-05-23T15:22:00.000-04:00

You Are Apple Green

You are almost super-humanly upbeat. You have a very positive energy that surrounds you.
And while you are happy go lucky, you're also charmingly assertive.
You get what you want, even if you have to persuade those against you to see things your way.
Reflective and thoughtful, you know yourself well - and you know that you want out of life.

What Color Green Are You?

A quiz...cause I'm bored at work

2006-05-22T17:26:00.000-04:00

You Are 40% Open Minded

You aren't exactly open minded, but you have been known to occasionally change your mind.
You're tolerant enough to get along with others who are very different...
But you may be quietly judgmental of things or people you think are wrong.
You take your own values pretty seriously, and it would take a lot to change them.

How Open Minded Are You?