Pithy Thought of the Day

Sunday Sermonette: Edwin Hawkins and The Edwin Hawkins Singers -- "I Believe"

This song -- commissioned by pre-war singer/actress Jane Froman in 1953 for her tv show The Jane Froman Show as a response to the Korean War -- was the first hit song ever introduced on television. She said wanted to give people hope.  I don't know if it worked but it's a popular and enduring song that transcends genres.  Everyone -- and I mean everyone -- has covered it, from Elvis Presley to Frank Sinatra to Mahalia Jackson to Dolly Parton. 

Interestingly, Ms. Froman -- an educated Midwesterner (from Columbia, Missouri), a classically trained vocalist (Cincinnati Conservatory of Music), a genuine Hollywood movie star and a chronic stutterer  -- has not one but three stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

I've heard this song before, quite a lot. I don't like it or dislike it.  It's just there, like pleasant aural wallpaper.  Kinda pre-hippyish in this deliberate way that's so sincere, it's not schmaltzy at all. 

It's like that song Misty: You know it even if you think you don't know it. You don't quite know how you know it or when you learned it. It's just there, stuck in your head, like an earworm you carried into the world at birth.

What better gospel choir to do this song justice than the iconic Edwin Hawkins Singers?

Listen in and be blessed.

 Lyrics:

I believe for every drop of rain that falls
A flower grows,
I believe that somewhere in the darkest night
A candle glows,
I believe for everyone who goes astray,
Someone will come to show the way,
I believe, I believe.

I believe above the storm a smallest prayer
Will still be heard,
I believe that someone in the great somewhere
Hears every word,
Every time I hear a newborn baby cry,
Or touch a leaf, or see the sky,
Then I know why,
I believe.

Every time I hear a newborn baby cry,
Or touch a leaf, or see the sky,
Then I know why,
I believe.

How To Love Yourself - a primer

Quote of the Day -- from Ta-Nehisi Coates, on Mike Brown

“And if Michael Brown was not angelic, I was practically demonic. I had my first drink when I was 11. I once brawled in the cafeteria after getting hit in the head with a steel trash can. In my junior year I failed five out of seven classes. By the time I graduated from high school, I had been arrested for assaulting a teacher and been kicked out of school (twice.) And yet no one who knew me thought I had the least bit of thug in me. That is because I also read a lot of books, loved my Commodore 64, and ghostwrote love notes for my friends. In other words, I was a human being. A large number of American teenagers live exactly like Michael Brown. Very few of them are shot in the head and left to bake on the pavement.” 

                         —  Ta-Nehisi Coates, The Atlantic

9/11 -- Events in NYC

 

If you'd like to pay your respects in New York City, click here for a list of events.

That brother in last night's Ferguson City Council meeting, though...

Say what you will about what may or may not have happened a month and a day ago in Ferguson, Missouri -- one thing is frightfully clear, to anyone that's actually paying attention to any of this: there is NO going back to the way things used to be.

Just look at this brother right here at last night's city council meeting.  He is on fire. 

Mike Brown -- One Month Later

One month ago in a place that hardly anyone had ever heard of,  police officer Darren Wilson shot Mike Brown multiple times at close range in broad daylight -- and then proceeded to blow his brains out.  According to several eyewitnesses, Mike Brown -- a college-bound high school graduate -- had both of his hands up when he was murdered. Officer Wilson never called in to report the shooting and he never called for an ambulance. Mike Brown's body laid in the street where he fell for more than 4 hours. Eventually, an unmarked black SUV came and took his body away.

At this juncture, I should probably tell you that the population of Ferguson (a suburb of St. Louis) is about 21,000 and 70% black. Out of 53 cops, only 3 are black. The mayor and five of the six city council members are white.  Ticketing, arresting and otherwise harassing black folk is big business for Ferguson. More on that some other time.

Let's be clear: Officer Wilson never called in to report the shooting because they turned it over to St. Louis county police almost immediately.  Oh, but that didn't stop them from turning over an incident report and video in which Mike Brown is allegedly guilty of stealing cigars.  (Nevermind Fox News and their idiocy. Cue Kevin Sorbo and his racist rant about Ferguson.) Interestingly, the store didn't call the cops -- a customer did.

Watch your back, black folk: customers can get you killed. Just ask John Crawford -- a few days before Mike Brown's murder, he was shot 10 times while holding a toy gun in Wal-Mart as he chatted on the phone with his girlfriend, who was in another section of the store.  Ronald Ritchie, an ex-Marine (that's not true), called 911 while his wife April (who had a broken ankle and was on the phone with her mother) trailed behind Mr. Crawford in a Wal-Mart scooter at what she described as a "safe distance", waving people away from him.  No one else in the store was alarmed by Mr. Crawford. A month later, Ronald Ritchie completely changed his story.

The kicker is that Ohio is a right to carry state.  That means you can openly carry a firearm in public.

Right about now, the attorney general of Ohio is hoping that this case goes away so no one's career gets tanked and those cops and yes, you too,  Mr. Ritchie -- because this is all your fault -- don't get sued into oblivion and see some serious jail time for murder.  As far as I'm concerned, the rest of his natural life wouldn't be long enough.

But I digress.

Cops arrived on the scene that afternoon with assault rifles because angry residents refused to disperse, and wanted answers.  That's when everything went beserk and suddenly, Ferguson was on full blast. Twitter was on fire with moment to moment updates as everything unraveled, from photos of German shepherds attacking black folk to a militarized police presence to the barricade that ultimately shut the police out of the neighborhood after the cops deliberately destroyed Mike Brown's memorial. And that was the first day.

Officer Wilson was secreted away immediately and his identity was withheld by the Ferguson police department for almost a week. Apparently, this was long enough for him to erase any unsavory tidbits on his social media and hide with his family in "a safe place" -- with pay and benefits, of course. 

What's the upshot?

1. The Ferguson Police Department is facing a federal civil rights investigation, headed by Attorney General Eric Holder.  And what they've found so far is pretty disturbing.
2. The Ferguson City Council (which met for the first time today since Mike Brown's murder) is assembling their first ever police department review board.
3. Black folk in Ferguson have been holding a slew of voter registration rallies.

Know justice, know peace.

Oh -- and about that Ferguson City Council meeting...

#FergusonCCM is trying to keep residents from commenting by "requiring" they state their full name and address while being broadcast online.
— Rap Game Rahab, doe (@_peech) September 10, 2014

Mayor asks people to state name and address before speaking. Crowd incensed. Speaker says her address is "ground zero." #FergusonCCM
— mervyn marcano (@britrican) September 10, 2014

A ferguson resident said no signs posted about council meetings.She went to city hall to find out & was told to check the news. #fergusonccm
— BrownBlaze (@brownblaze) September 10, 2014

"I spent more time in jail than Darren Wilson." -#Ferguson protester Legal system ≠ justice system. #FergusonCCM
— Namira Islam (@namirari) September 10, 2014

Citizens are doing at the #FergusonCCM exactly what they have been doing since #MikeBrown’s death, challenging structural racism.
— zellie (@zellieimani) September 10, 2014

Man: "I heard the mayor say #Ferguson doesn't have a race problem. There must be two Fergusons." #FergusonCCM pic.twitter.com/hz9n6o2uuK
— Tyson (@tysonmanker) September 10, 2014

Quote of the Day -- from Maya Angelou

Sunday Sermonette: Le'Andria Johnson's Auditon for Sunday Best

When Le'Andria Johnson showed up from Orlando, Florida to audition for BET's reality tv show Sunday Best, she was already a seasoned performer, producer and a singer-songwriter. She had led the prayer and praise worship in her father's church for years and had been singing since she was 2 years old. She was also twice divorced with 3 children and had just lost her house to foreclosure.  Jump cut to the end of the story: not only does she win season three, the 7 song album they quickly release debuts at number one on the gospel chart and her life is nothing but roses.

Of course, another hit album, a Grammy and plenty of scandal quickly followed -- but it's interesting to see the moment when the world discovered her, and to watch everything change and shift at the judges' table just as soon as she opened her mouth.

I love this woman's voice.

Some people think that this is what's supposed to happen when you sing gospel music, that you are supposed to let God move through you and sing from your soul.  I think this is what's supposed to happen when you sing anything.  Or what's the point?

Here it is, Le'Andria's audition tape. Listen in and be blessed.

Cartoon Saturdays -- Bugs Bunny: Hillbilly Hare

Because it's really not Saturday morning unless I'm watching Bugs Bunny in my underwear -- and because I'm such a generous and benevolent monarch (heh.) -- I thought I'd post this little gem for your cultural edification/amusement/etc.  And you can sing along and everything! Wheeee!

I'm going to serve up a weekly heaping helping of Chuck Jones to the world any Saturday it strikes my fancy.  God, I love him.  How sad am I that we never met.

This stuff will never get old.

Joan Rivers, we hardly knew you...

Love her or hate her, one thing is certain: Joan Rivers -- a first generation Russian Jew from Brooklyn -- was a trailblazer and a genuine powerhouse that became a hit on The Tonight Show at 32 and never stopped working.  Some performers hope for a victory lap in their old age -- a gig that allows them to step out into the spotlight and shine once more before they leave this world. Elaine Stritch had a wonderful victory lap. So did Alberta Hunter and Eartha Kitt.  Joan Rivers, on the other hand, was sprinting around the track of life and when she checked out of here, her career was on fire.  At the time of her passing, she had a reality tv show, a ridiculously popular youtube show (In Bed with Joan!) and a fashion talk show on E!  Nevermind her stand up comedy appearances, her must-see red carpet interviews for the Golden Globes and the Oscars, and all that  jewelry she was selling -- of her own design! -- on QVC.  She wasn't just working. She was culturally relevant. That's a formidable accomplishment.

She finished at Barnard College with a major in English Literature and anthropology -- which seems ideal, in retrospect. She's one of the few comedians that actually wrote her own material.  Actually, she wrote 12 books (!!!) and released several comedy albums. She didn't win every award out there but she was nominated for a Tony, a Grammy and won an Emmy in 1990 for her daytime talk show.  And she's the first woman to host her own late night talk show on network television.  Think about it: how many women have they allowed to take that coveted late night seat, to even co-host?  Can you name three? Unless I'm seriously missing something, Joan Rivers is the only one I can think of.

After a certain point, I made a point of ingesting as many biographies, autobiographies, documentaries and Behind The Music episodes that I could. Everyone's trajectory is so revealing and important, and teaches so many lessons about what not to do and how this business really works. A part of it is a history lesson but what I look for is the cautionary tale that's inherent in just about all of them. The documentary Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work is essential must-see viewing for any performer.  It's a glimpse into her work ethic and the anatomy of the machine that she built to propel her business of show forward.  And somewhere in there is the Joan that hardly anyone ever thought they knew.

Godspeed, Joan Rivers. What a fantastic life you had.  Long may you run.

Pithy Thought of the Day

How To Deal With The Police -- A Cheat Sheet

“To be a Negro in this country and to be relatively conscious is to be in a rage almost all the time. ” -- James Baldwin

I have been stopped by the police on numerous occasions for absolutely no reason whatsoever.  Usually they back off when they realize I'm not the black woman they were looking for. Or expecting. Or something. Jedi mind tricks don't always work, though. The last time this happened to me was in the subway at Times Square awhile ago. I had walked through an open exit door with a herd of midwestern tourists at rush hour because the turnstiles were faulty.  I was repeatedly told that the condition of the turnstiles didn't matter. What I did was wrong. None of those tourists were detained, of course.  When I pointed this out, they ignored me. 

The first thing they did was put my name in the system.  The disappointment they felt when nothing came up was nearly tangible.  They gave me a summons, anyway -- with the hope that I'd pay the fine and be done with it. Problem is, I refused to pay the fine and I wanted the whole thing expunged. I contested it and spent the next 6 months unraveling gobs of red tape in one Waiting for Godot take-a-number-and-wait situation after another until finally a random person behind a desk turns off the tape recorder in the middle of The Interview That Settled This Whole Thing and tells me off the record that I was right, the cops were wrong and they were probably hoping I wouldn't follow through so I'd be in the system. That's the kicker: if my name came up at all in the system, that would have meant that the cops could cuff me and take me downtown immediately -- no questions asked.

Apparently, once you're in the system, you're screwed.

Any cop that stops me had better have a bloody fantastic reason for doing so because if he doesn't, I will roast him whole. Here's my super-short list of what you should know if they stop you:

1. If the police stop you in New York, you don't have to show them your ID -- unless you're driving.
2. If you're being detained by a cop, he can't hold you for more than 20 minutes and he can't search through your stuff.
3. You can film the police as long as you don't interfere with what they're doing. And yes, EVERYONE should film the police. 

I'm fairly certain that Marlene Pinnock is grateful to David Diaz for shooting the video of that California Highway Patrol officer straddling her MMA style and pounding her in the face with his fists. Even Fox News couldn't justify this one -- and you know they tried. I hope they sue that cop into oblivion. Or at least an early retirement.

Pithy Thought of the Day

September's NaBloPoMo: Healing

What does healing mean, exactly? Is it all interconnected -- mind, body, spirit -- or can one experience a profound healing in one area of one's life and complete rot in another one? Is it perpetual? Can someone's body be overwhelmed in the process of healing and wear itself out in the process? Is there ever a moment when I can declare that I am truly healed in every way imaginable?  Won't I be like Sisyphus, constantly striving and ever reaching for healing of some sort but never quite getting there?

I don't drink alcohol, I don't smoke cigarettes -- or anything else for that matter. I stay out of the sun and I'm so Howard Hughes obsessive about my skin, I wear sunblock in the shade.  I definitely don't do drugs recreationally. I don't do these things for fairly obvious reasons, of course. I make sure that I drink this green stuff for breakfast habitually and I pop these vitamins after every meal.  I am making it my business to physically exhaust myself on a daily basis with boxing, bikram yoga, pilates and anything else I can stand,  to get my body back and keep it once it gets here. And as if all of that weren't enough, I usually eat clean. Yet in spite of my best efforts, there are moments when I can feel my body struggling against whatever modern day toxins the world is inflicting upon me at random. And I sometimes wonder how any of it is affecting the rest of me...

Renisha McBride: Sweet Victory

 

This murder broke me from the inside out: a young black woman (a teenager!) with a dead cell phone wrecks her car in an unfamiliar (white) neighborhood in the wee hours of the morning, knocks on a random door for assistance and gets shot in the face with a 12 gauge shotgun by none other than a middle aged white man who -- irony of ironies! -- "didn't want to be a victim".

It could have been me.

We've seen this scemario before, haven't we. The media roasts the victim while the "victim" awaits their inevitable "not guilty" plea. And I must say, they've got their routine down pat.  As if on cue, Fox News went in on Renisha's character, her background, her past -- whatever they could sensationalize with the usual white (male) conservative malaise.  In the meantime, Mr. Wafer told the cops the gun discharged accidentally. During the trial, he said he shot her in self-defense. After about a month of the pomp and formality of a trial, expert testimonies and a river of tears from Mr. Wafer himself, something inside of me began to numb out a little.  I remember thinking that if he went free, that would mean that violence against  black women would be condoned, sanctioned even. But it already is, in a myriad of ways.

Why should anyone expect justice for Renisha? They had video on Rodney King and none of those cops saw the inside of a jail cell.  After his latest misadventure -- brandishing a loaded gun at his pregnant girlfriend -- even Florida cops think George Zimmerman should be in jail before he "accidentally" murders someone else.  And then there's Marissa Alexander. She stood her ground -- and now she's facing 60 years for firing a warning shot.

And then, out of nowhere, the unthinkable happened: the jury returns with a guilty verdict on the second day of deliberations for all three counts.  Michigan, you have done the nation proud.  This is the one place in this country where you can't shoot first and ask questions later. Now let's wrap this up and send him to jail for the rest of his natural life. Selah.

My question is, why didn't he call 911 when he heard a suspicious noise on his porch?  If you are safely tucked behind two locked doors, why would you open them to shoot someone? Why did he find his 12 gauge shotgun quicker than he found his cellphone?  That he has the brass to breeze past that last one -- and in tears, no less -- was nuts. He just knew he'd walk. 

In a world where more white people believe in ghosts than racism, where the military enacts regulations and strict codes against black women's hair in its natural state, where those who are privileged and entitled are convinced they are not, where the past is rewritten or forgotten at random, willful ignorance flourishes and we are rendered invisible by the media, by the entertainment industry, by the government, by gentrification -- in a world where there is no justice and very little peace, the unthinkable has happened.  We won. In Detroit!

To see Mr. Wafer's testimony, watch the video below.

Now if they'd just stop chasing Assata Shakur...

Happy Black History Month!

For a brief history of Black August, click here.

Quote of the Day -- from Stokely Carmichael

"I maintain that every civil rights bill in this country was passed for white people, not for black people. (applause) For example, I am black. I know that. I also know that while I am black I am a human being, and therefore I have the right to go into any public place. White people didn’t know that. Every time I tried to go into a place they stopped me. So some boys had to write a bill to tell that white man, ‘He’s a human being; don’t stop him.’ That bill was for that white man, not for me. I knew it all the time. (applause, cheers) I knew it all the time.

I knew that I could vote and that that wasn’t a privilege; it was my right. Every time I tried I was shot, killed or jailed, beaten or economically deprived. So somebody had to write a bill for white people to tell them, ‘When a black man comes to vote, don’t bother him.’ That bill, again, was for white people, not for black people.
 
So that when you talk about open occupancy, I know I can live anyplace I want to live. It is white people across this country who are incapable of allowing me to live where I want to live. You need a civil rights bill, not me. I know I can live where I want to live.”

                                       - Stokely Carmichael, 29 OCTOBER 1966

Happy birthday, James Baldwin

A very happy 90th birthday to you, Jimmy. You are sorely missed. 

What is mnemonic, anyway?

A mnemonic is a device -- any device, tangible or intangible -- that assists in remembering something.  As an actor that's had to ingest iambic pentameter whole and spit it out at will, I'm well acquainted with this idea. Strangely, I've never given it a name.  Yeesh -- I never knew this had a name. 

And what is bullet journaling, anyway? Sounds like a gigantic, well-organized to-do list.