Saturday, April 13, 2013

Go! Go! Freddie Couples!





At this moment, Fred Couples, age 53, is -5 for the first 2 rounds, and 5 holes into the 3rd of the Masters. I am thrilled because he's over 50 and competing with men young enough to be his children. You go ahead boy! We're very proud of you.


After 18 holes Fred lost 5 strokes and is now at even with par. I'm hoping he'll do better tomorrow.

My other favorite, Jason Day, is 2 strokes behind the leader Angel Cabrera who has a score of -7 under par after the 3rd round.



Last round on Sunday. Good luck Fred and Jason.

Friday, March 29, 2013

Ramblings

They're important to me and that's all that matters. I know that's not nice. Do I always have to be nice? It's unnatural.

1.  You know you're a middle-aged woman when a good foot rub is almost as good as sex.

2.  I get a thrill when I'm driving and someone passes me up and then gets stopped by a red light.

3.  A maxim I've always lived by: No budy, no date.

4.  This woman kept winking at me and I was scared to ask her why.

5.  There are times when all men turn my stomach.

6.  I have a hard time cleaning my house and car for other people. I just don't care. Normal dirt is fine.

7.  I don't like when woman have their boobs almost completely sticking of their shirts, blouses, whatever. Yuk.

8.  Please, please, please, I beg of you, please pull up your pants.

9.  Some of my neighbors truly disgust me.

10.  Yes, Yes, sometimes I'm weird and usually eccentric. Deal with it.

Oh and by the way, if you see me talking to myself in public, I am either thinking out loud or cussing about the high prices in the store.


Monday, March 25, 2013

Paper Dolls

Anybody remember paper dolls? I played with them all the time. The dolls were made out of thin cardboard and the clothes were paper with tabs to fold over the dolls. My favorite thing was to change the doll's clothes. The dolls had a swimsuit or slip on when they were cut out. Those dolls gave me hours and hours of enjoyment.

Saturday, March 16, 2013

Shit People Say To "Mixed" Couples by Judaye Streett

Teeth sucking. Eyes Rolling.
"Obviously you don't like who you are!"
"You don't like black men/white women!"
"You're trying act like you're white/black!"
"You're a traitor to your race!"

"Once you go black, you don't go back."

"Those women are loud and evil. Good luck."

"You know, they're not very well endowed."

"Do you call one another nigger or cracker when you fight?"

"She's going to pull you down."

"The only reason you're not divorced is because people will say "l told you so."

"Just wait. She'll have a bunch of kids."

Shocked hostile stares. Sneers and whispers.
"No matter what, your relationship will never be okay with me."
"You two are just weird. You make me uncomfortable."
"I feel sorry for you."
"Your children will be mixed up..ostracized..ashamed..resentful."





Sunday, February 24, 2013

50 Experiences of Racially Mixed People by Dr. Maria P.P. Root


1996,  Maria P. P. Root, Ph.D. Racial Experiences Questionnaire and 2003  In The Multiracial Child Resource Book.  Seattle,
WA: Mavin Foundation.

50 Experiences of Racially Mixed People
Maria P. P. Root
http://www.drmariaroot.com/

The 50 questions or comments and experiences evolved from a questionnaire I
developed for a study on biracial siblings I conducted from 1996 to 1997.  These
questions and comments provide an introduction to the way in which race
consciousness is brought up directly, sideways, and from all sides for people of mixed
heritage.  These comments and questions, though not an exhaustive list, provide a
window into how this country internalizes assumption about race, belonging, and
identity.  They socialize the mixed race person to understand as well as question race
American style.  It is a monoracial system; one race per person.  Not everyone
experiences these questions or comments the similarly.  One person might enjoy being
asked, “What are you?” whereas their sibling might dread and resent the question.
This list provides a launching point for sharing, discussing, laughing, debriefing, and
educating.

1.  You have been told, “You have to choose; you can’t be both.”

2.  Your ethnicity was mistakenly identified.

3.  People assumed your race to be different by phone than in person.

4.  You are accused of not acting or wanting to be Latino, Asian, Black…

5.  You have been told, “Mixed race people are so beautiful or handsome.”

6.  Strangers looked between you and your parent(s) to figure out if you were
related.
7.  You have been told, “You don’t look Native, Black, Latino…”

8.  You have been asked, “What are you?”

9.  People say things they might not otherwise say if they knew how you
identified racially.

10. You have been asked, “Where are you from?”

11. You have repeatedly been the recipient of stares or longer than passing
glances from strangers.

12. You have been told, “You look exotic.”

13. Your choice of friends has been interpreted as your “selling out” or not
being authentic.

14. You have been accused of “acting or wanting to be white.”

15. Judgments of your racial authenticity have been based upon your
boyfriend/s or girlfriend’s (partner’s) race.

16. Comments are made about your hair or hairstyle, skin color, eye shape etc.

17. You have been subjected to jokes about mixed race people.

18. You have been told, “You think you’re too good for your own kind.”

19. Grandparent(s) or relatives don’t accept you because of your parents’
interracial relationship.

20. Your parents or relatives compete to “claim” you for their own racial or
ethnic group.

21. You have been told, “You have the best of both worlds.”

22. You have been asked about your racial or ethnic heritage as an object of
curiosity.

23. Upon meeting you, people seem confused by your last name.  They do not
think it “matches” you.

24. People assume you are confused about your racial identity or have had a
hard time figuring it out.

25. People speak to you in foreign languages because of how they interpret
your physical appearance.

26. You have been told, “Society doesn’t recognize mixed race.”

27. You have been told, “You aren’t really Black, Latino, Asian…”

28. You have been mistaken for another person of mixed heritage who does
not resemble you.

29. You have been told you must be full of self-loathing or hatred because of
how you racially identify yourself.

30. You have been told, “You are a mistake.”

31. Different people perceive your race differently based upon the company
you keep.

32. The race people assign you varies in different parts of the U.S.A.

33. You have difficulty filling out forms asking for a single race.

34. You identify your race differently than others identify you.

35. You are told, “You aren’t like other Indians, Asians, Latinos…”

36. Your siblings identify their race differently than you do yours.

37. You have been called racial slurs of groups with which you do not share
heritage.

38. Friends suggest that you date someone based upon the race or ethnicity
with which they think you should identify.

39. Your parents identify your race differently than you identify.

40. You are told, “You aren’t Black, Latino, Asian…enough”

41. Your mother was assumed to be your nanny or babysitter.

42. A stranger assumes that your father is your “older boyfriend” or your
mother is the “older woman.”

43. You were treated differently by relatives or your parents than a sibling on
the basis of racial features.

44. You were well liked by peers but were not asked for dates.

45. You wish you were darker and try to get as much sun as possible.

46. People assume your father was in the military.

47. You have enrolled in Spanish language classes in order to develop the
ability to say “Yes” to the question, “Do you speak the language?” and
remove one of the blocks to authenticity.

48. Your otherwise friends become more distant when they think associating
with you will make their racial authenticity or popularity questionable.

49. You have been knowingly approached and asked, “Your mother’s white
(black, Asian), huh?”

50. You have tried to hide one or both parents from view of people who know
you but are not your closest friends because you anticipate they will treat
you differently.

Thursday, February 7, 2013

Detroit Diaspora


Here's David Alan Grier --yes the one from In Living Color-- on Fresh Air discussing his role as Sporting Life, the drug dealer/pimp in the Broadway revival of Porgy and Bess. Grier was nominated for a Tony in 2012. Unfortunately he didn't win but he is from Detroit. Yee Ha!

http://www.npr.org/2012/05/22/152848779/david-alan-griers-sporting-life-on-broadway

Tuesday, January 29, 2013

The Microwave Blew Up!


   

What happened is about six weeks ago our fifteen year old microwave caught on fire. For twenty-five years we used a microwave, but didn't grow up with one. So...

 We went back to the old ways.

Forty years ago Jake and I, had no:
  • Video or DVD Players.
  • Cable. People got along with seven or less channels.
  • Computer, Spell-check, Internet, or Printer.
  • Remote.
  • Cellphone.
  • Air Conditioner. We Sang into the Fan.
We:
  • Voraciously read cereal boxes and schemed to get prizes.
  • Had No Dishwasher.
  • Ate white bread.
  • Had One Bathroom.
  • Used the Broiler to Make Toast.
  • Cooked Popcorn on the Top of the Stove.
We found out food cooked on the stove tastes better than the food made in the microwave, particularly vegetables and hot chocolate. It's what the call "slow food"  Homemade hot chocolate with whipped cream is the heavenly. The recipe is on the Hershey's cocoa can.

We are not old as the hills. Some people say we have peaked, that we're headed down the hill that ends in hip replacements and cheap toupees. We haven't gotten there yet. We hope to.

It's either that or die young.

Will we go back to using the microwave? Yes. Of course. We'll use it to warm food and coffee and make popcorn, etc., etc. We'll also remember we don't need to use it.

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

We are at war and Americans are dying young.


Pfc. Markie T. Sims

Age: 20
Incident
  • Dec 29th, 2012: Died in Panjwal, Afghanistan, of wounds suffered when enemy forces attacked his unit with a makeshift bomb.
  • Location: Afghanistan
  • Read more about Markie and other soldiers at Washington Post.Com

Friday, December 28, 2012

On the Soap Box: Tia Norfleet



Nascar's Tia Norfleet (May 1, 1988) is the first American woman of African descent to qualify for and obtain a Nascar license. As someone forced to watch Nascar for twenty-five years, I'm happy to see this young woman competing. I'm looking forward to seeing her kick budy and run some of those traditional Nascar drivers off the track.

 Oh yeah!

What she is able to accomplish on the track is what's important; so, I'm disturbed by pictures that present Norfleet as a seductive temptress. European culture cast African women as exotic and insatiable in order to fulfill their own sexual fantasies.

Of course that's not who African women are.

I don't see any male drivers posing for no pictures.


If Tia Norfleet wants to be taken seriously as a legitimate Nascar competitor, I think she should concentrate on winning some races, instead of trying to get attention by posing for provocative photographs.

Come on Miss Tia! We can see you're beautiful, but the way you look has nothing to do with intelligent, strategic driving. Personally, I don't care if you're bald and toothless; I just want to see you finish in higher track positions.

Okay. I'm climbing down.



Thursday, December 13, 2012

Someone Asked Me What I Would Put In A Time Capsule for 2012.

I had to think hard about it and I still didn't come up with much.

DVD of the first debate between Obama and Romney. You can draw your own conclusions about it.

Newspaper story about typhoon Bopha in the Philippines.

Copies of Fifty Shades of Gray Trilogy.

Average price of gasoline for the year. It was $3.61.

The year went by fast and I was very blessed.

To tell the truth, I tried not to give much attention to what was going in the world, because thinking about it makes me disgusted and cynical.

What would you put into a time capsule for 2012?

Changing the subject somewhat, I have no problem coming up with the idea of putting Gil Scott-Heron in a time capsule of my time on Earth, because I've listened to him for 42 years. His voice takes me to another consciousness; it's as if he put his whole heart into his music.

Scott-Heron is a musician and poet from Chicago, Illinois, and he was doing spoken word in the seventies. Scott-Heron received his B.A. from Lincoln University in Pennsylvania, and his Masters in Creative Writing from John Hopkins in Baltimore. He was arrested at least twice and served several years in prison for charges related to drug possession.

He did eventually break his drug addiction and spent his last years as an elder, communicating wisdom he acquired from his career, relationships, and drug addiction. Scott-Heron died in May 2011, possibly from complications of HIV.

Here is a song from the 1971 album Pieces of a Dream: "I'll Think I'll Call It Morning." I hope you enjoy it.


Monday, December 3, 2012

I'm back...

I don't have time to post much, but I will try to here and there, now and then, when I can.

I saw this on Crunk and clicked on it: It's from Youtube. It's funny and I always, always, need some laughter therapy. It's called Nice White Lady, and of course I know some smart savvy white women, but they're not like this, thank the Lord.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=ZVF-nirSq5s

Thursday, June 28, 2012

No More New Posts

I am having personal taking up much of my time and cannot continue the blog.  Thank you for coming by to read my posts.  The blog will not be deleted.

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Live In The Light: Fertile Ground

This is a local Baltimore group I've seen perform live at least four times.  Fertile Ground was known more internationally than in the U.S.  Unfortunately the group has broken up and regrouped due to the divorce of the lead singer and a band member.  Oh well,  I have my memories and videos from Youtube.

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Jury Selection begins in Sandusky Rapes Trial

220 perspective jurors are to be narrowed down to 12 and 4 alternates.  The jury is from the Penn State area.  I wonder why Sandusky's lawyers didn't request a change of venue.  Not that it would make any difference.  Read more about it here.

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

She Who Heals - An American Indian Healing Prayer

I found this poem in my drawer of saved papers.  I don't know who gave it to me or how long it's been in the drawer, but I must have really liked it.  I still do.


She Who Heals – An American Indian Healing Prayer



Mother, sing me a song 
That will ease my pain, 
Mend broken bones, 
Bring wholeness again.


Catch my babies 
When they are born, 
Sing my death song, 
Teach me how to mourn.


Show me the Medicine 
Of the healing herbs, 
The value of spirit, 
The way I can serve.


Mother, heal my heart
So that I can see
The gifts of yours
That can live through me.


American Indians believe that every act of life is a cycle or step on the path to healing. When we learn how to let go of our need to hold on to the past, we heal our formerly limited potential for growth. When we find courage and faith inside ourselves, we can heal our fear of future. We refuse to mentally degrade ourselves. The mind clears and allows us to be present-conscious of everything that is happening in the moment. These are all examples of healing the fragments of our lives that need to come into wholeness. When we go beyond the places where we have become numb, we feel life again. When we learn to feel again, we can heal.

Why am I crying?

This past weekend my son and his girlfriend came over and we had a cookout.  Jake and I like his woman.  In fact, he went out and picked the kind of girl I would like to see him with.  She got good sense. That's all we care about.  The girl has common sense.  Everything else is irrelevant.

We were looking at some old pictures.  I said in I would always see that child's face and Bub would forevermore be my boy.  The next day I realized I actually see all of his ages when looking at him, that he is no longer my boy but a young man with his own life to live. Immediately a wave sadness came over me.

I started to cry, but couldn't figure out why.  Jake and I both like having our freedom again as we did before we had Bub.  We come and go as we please.  We don't have to worry about babysitters or bother about dinner.  We don't want to go back.

What I worked out is we can never go back.  The finality is scary.  Bub's childhood is over.  If I had understood I would have paid more attention.  Now it's important to savor these times because one day they will be over too.  This realization brought tears to my eyes.

Bub and the Andretti's around 1990

Sunday, May 20, 2012

Another Crazy Neighbor

On Friday at 8:15 a.m. my neighbor across the street decided to turn his banjo music as high as it could go.   His very large speakers are outside.  He played the themes for the Beverly Hillbillies and Petticoat Junction.  He also played Lester Flatt's and Earl Scruggs's "Foggy Mountain Breakdown."  I remember that song from "Bonnie and Clyde.


My first reaction was to go into my back bedroom, shut the doors, windows and turn the radio up.  It was no good.  I called the rental office. It wasn't open yet.  I put on some clothes to go out and ask the neighbor to turn down his music.

When I got outside at the bottom of my steps the cops came driving up.  Two cops tried to explain to this man that he could not play his music so loud that it disturbs other people.  He told the cops he knew his rights and he could play his music until 11:p.m.  Meanwhile I'm listening to this "unbelievable." exchange at the window.  After about five minutes the cops convinced him to turn down the music.

Now get this: He thinks I'm the one who called the cops.  How do I know this?  Another neighbor said he told her so and she also told Jake that it was her friend down the street who phoned the police.  Don't trust her with any important information.

This man thinks he knows what happened but won't directly confront me.  Clearly, if he hadn't turned down the music I would have called the cops, but I didn't get the chance and that's exactly what I would tell him.

I hope he doesn't slit my tires.



Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Article on Exposing and Eradicating Sex Trafficking


Secret Life of A Manhattan Call Girl has an excellent post on survivors of trafficking.  I am a survivor of sex trafficking and really appreciate this excellent information.  I have never heard of most of these organizations.  I don't feel so alone.

Website:
http://secretlifeofamanhattancallgirl.wordpress.com/2012/05/09/survivors-must-lead-the-anti-trafficking-movement/
Post:
Survivors Must Lead the Anti-Trafficking Movement

Monday, April 30, 2012

Not A Girlie Girl

I have never been or considered a "girlie girl.  Pantyhose is itchy.  Thongs: My ass has to be comfortable.  Rarely do I shave anything.  Bikinis show too much of my body.  That's only for Jake to see.  High heels feel like walking on stilts.  My hair is natural.  A perm feels like the hair on corpses and hair dye on an older woman makes some look fake and hard.  Hands are used for creating jewelry, so my nails are short and unpolished.  The bottom of my feet need to be hard because I walk barefoot outside.

At the same time my touch and presence are calming.  These days my body is amply padded and supportive. I generally smell good.   My skin is smooth and my breath is fresh.  Peppermint.   Unfortunately, I have a feminine voice, not deep and sexy like Brenda Vaccaro's.  Secrets are safe with me.  I have always been extremely loyal.  My money isn't spent on clothes, shoes or makeup.  It's incense, lotion, soap, oils and too many books that I hide from Jake.  My immediate family is very important.  I see much, but try not to say a lot.

My three sisters are different from me.  They wear heels and hose, hair weaves, wigs, and false nails. They are all strong and smart women whom I admire.  It seems okay to be unalike, eh?  I think so.

After saying all that, I could use a breast lift.

Disclaimer:  This is the opinion of Judaye.  There's no reason for anyone to agree with me.  Most of my family and friends don't.

Friday, April 27, 2012

All American Muslim

Some people have problems with Muslims.  I know it for a fact.  I have a problem with Muslim men because I think most of them are misogynists.  A few days ago I put some beautiful work from a Muslim artist in London on a certain website (not mine) and no one looked at it.  I have to say I am shocked by the prejudice.  Here is the post:.http://iwannalearntowrite.blogspot.com/2012/04/wednesday-word-of-wisdom-art-provided_25.html

Here is an episode from All American Muslim in Dearborn which is outside Detroit.  Detroit is where I grew up.




Thursday, April 19, 2012

Remember This? Yes We Can!

I found a container of cassettes in our shed and the Pointer Sisters was one I decided to keep.  Oh they are so good.  I enjoy this kind of music.

Sunday, April 15, 2012

I Like Girls

I was coming back from my favorite book store running out of gas, so I stopped at a station I had never been to.  I put a few gallons in the car, then went inside to buy something to drink.  When I walked back outside this old sweaty hairy man in a tank top, shorts stuck up his butt, filling a tire with air, looked at me with his bleary red eyes and said,

"You one of those girls that like girls."  He sounded like he had phlegm in his throat.

"How can you tell," I answered.

"I can just tell."

What could I say?  I love women but don't want to have sex with them.  Why are people always bothering me?  I just be minding my own business.

Monday, April 9, 2012

Worrying About What People Think


I have a serious problem.

For some irrational reason I am fearful of what other people think.  I mean people who do not know me and I do not know them. Then there are the people who think they know me that I do not have a relationship with.

I did not have this problem when I was younger.  When I got married I changed.  Why did I change?  I was trying to fit into a new environment.  We moved from a state I liked to a state I will never fit into.

As I get older I do not have the energy to try to fit in.  Also, people work my nerves with their bullshit.  One of the things that I have slowly learned and accepted is that all people, that is everybody,  have faults, problems, and disappointments.  Yet they continually put other people down.  Probably to deflect attention from themselves.  I admit I am occasionally guilty of this too.

From now on I am going to concentrate on myself and ignore what most people say about me, usually behind my back.  I am going to work on my goals and try to please myself and try to leave other people alone most of the time. Yep. I will let Bub make his own mistakes just like I did.  It really feels good to live this way.

Be good to yourself or I'm going to talk about you.
Judaye   

Friday, March 30, 2012

There Are Good People


I know this world is full of good people. Still it feels good to experience their goodness.  Yesterday I was at the library using the computer because sometimes I write better there.  I had my purse between my feet under the table.  For some reason I cannot understand, I got up and left it there.  My purse is usually attached to my arm like another limb.  There was a man sitting at the station I had been at.  When I started to panic and asked the front desk if someone had turned in a purse, this man said "Miss, you left it here under the desk."  I had looked under the desk in the station but his feet  pushed it out of my field of vision.  I was so grateful.  I thanked him profusely.  People can be such a blessing.

Be good to yourself or I'll talk about you.
Judaye

Monday, March 12, 2012

At The Grocery Store



When I go out I'm usually thinking about what I have to do and where I'm going.  Never do I anticipate what will come into my field of vision.

In the grocery store one time there was a balding woman.  Balding means that her hair was missing past the middle of her head.  Her exposed scalp was a rich brown color and it glowed with good health.  The hair that was left was thick and beautiful.  She gave me a defiant look then went about her business.

Another time in the grocery store, a bearded woman was walking down the cheese and milk aisle. It was the kind of beard that isn't completely grown in.  The beard itself was very attractive; it was pretty, wavy, and shiny.

She gave me a look that said, " That's right.  I've got a beard and it looks good don't it?"

I said to myself, "Yep. I don't know if it looks good on you."

Today in the grocery store: I go to the store twice a week.  There was this young man in a long trench coat with wild looking light brown hair wandering around with his hands in his pockets.  After the massacre in Afghanistan my nerves are on edge.  The strategy was to actively avoid him.   Of course, at the self checkout he was behind me with two woman.  One looked like his mother and the other his sister.  He hadn't come into the store alone.  Relieved, I started to check out my small order.

Guess what?  My debit card was rejected, but this time I actually had the money in the account to cover my purchase.  My face burned with embarrassment.  Luckily my skin is a dark brown so most people don't notice.  They went to another line.  I used a credit card then rushed to the car to check my balance.  The cell phone didn't work.

Calmly, I drove home to see about my bank balance.  I was right. The money was in there.    Happy sigh. 

Friday, March 9, 2012

John Legend And The Roots

Written By Bill Withers, One of the real "Big Papas."  Bill Withers I appreciate you.  Thank you so much for your music.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

The World Is Warming

We had less than a few inches of snow throughout the whole winter.  There are buds on the trees and my mint and marjoram are coming up.  This usually happens in the middle of April. This is six weeks too early.

I can't help but wonder how this will effect the lives of average people.  Will this change our lives? How?

Be good to yourself or I will talk about you.
Judaye

Some of us need a breast lift


Karen Kaapcke

"Lisa I", 18x22
"Lisa I", 18x22", graphite on pape"Lisa I", 18x22", LL
Women, it's like this.  After the age of 45 your breasts will droop.  If you have large ones it will happen sooner.  People been talking about that actor from The Help that won the Oscar, Octavia Spencer.  She said she had to get those babies pulled up.  I know what she means and you will too one day.  Leave her alone and let her take care of her business the way she sees fit.

Ain't she a cutie?

Be Good to yourself or I will talk about you.
Judaye



Music Written And Performed By Women of Color

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Letter From Federal District Judge Cebull To President Obama







To read the letter click here.

This is the joke:  Cebull told the newspaper that his brother sent him the email, and he passed it on to six "old buddies" and acquaintances.


Subject: A MOM'S MEMORY
Normally I don't send or forward a lot of these, but even by my standards, it was a bit touching. 
I want all of my friends to feel what I felt when I read this.
Hope it touches your heart like it did mine.


A little boy said to his mother; 'Mommy, how come I'm black and you're white?' 
His mother replied, 'Don't even go there Barack!
From what I can remember about that party, you're lucky you don't bark!'


Some people don't like to call the president President Obama.  President Obama is who he is.  Deal with it.  This repulsive loser, his brother, and his friends are sick.  He should be fired or resign.  How can a judge have such poor judgment?

On The Soapbox.. Again! Moisturizing



Now that I am over 50, I can see the effects of 30 years of daily hot soapy showers while using regular moisturizers.  Those showers have caused extremely dry patches on my skin.  It's my elbows, knees, and the calf of one of my legs.  My feet look like I got away from Pompeii.  I simply cannot take a shower every day anymore.

I take a shower every other day and wash my face and the necessary parts in the sink.  Then I use a very heavy, fatty organic coconut oil on the dry areas every day.  All of these changes are helping the dry skin to stop looking like alligator hide.

When I was growing up all of the older women in my family had smooth skin. They didn't bathe everyday because they grew in houses with one bathroom or no bathroom and lots of children.  They washed up everyday and took a bath only once or twice a week.  They kept those habits all their lives.  Then my mother taught it to me, but when I got older I fell in love with very hot water.

I am wondering if human skin is meant to be scrubbed every day.  Personally I don't think so.

Be good to yourself or I will talk about you.
Judaye

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

This Statement Will Make Some People Angry: The Husband Is The Leader Of The Family

That's what I said.  The husband is the leader of the family  What I mean is that he is responsible for the family as a whole.  He cannot make anyone follow him.  He can never control other people, especially not his wife.  He has to earn the respect of his family and children.  He will never earn it by trying to control them.  No, a man has to love his family.  He has to know he needs a lot of help because he doesn't know everything.  In some cases he doesn't know much of anything.   He must try to build up the self esteem of his wife, daughters, and sons. He has to tell his family what he thinks is right and let them do what they want or need to do.  Sometimes he is right.  Sometimes he is wrong.  He has to know that he and his reasoning is imperfect and yet he is ultimately responsible for his family.  He has to work hard and do everything he can to financially support his family.  He is responsible for doing the best he can to insure their well being.  It is his duty.  It is who he is.

Be good to yourself or I will talk about you.
Judaye

Monday, February 27, 2012

On The Soapbox: Billy Crystal and the Oscars





I didn't see the Oscars last night.  So I just watched Billy Crystal's opener on You Tube.  I thought it was hilarious.  Why some people are offended I don't know.  The line "Isn't he another Sinatra?" referring to Justin Bieber had me laughing out loud.  Bieber is a cutie but he doesn't sing very well. And Crystal wasn't in black face.  He had on brown makeup to look like Sammy Davis Jr.  It's getting to the point where some people are trying to make something racial out of everything.  Aren't there enough real racial problems to deal with?

Going In Circles



I don't have a problem with being lost.  That's probably because I get lost on a regular basis.  I can find my way by looking at the position of the sun or from experience without knowing the name of streets.  Sunday morning Jake and I got lost in downtown Washington, D.C. looking for a church where my little brother (he's thirty-five) was being baptized.  We saw all the people lined up to see the  attractions, the poorer sections of our capitol and that erect pointy white phallic symbol also called a obelisk and a monument.  Did ya'll know that G street NE is on the other side of town from G street NW?  You probably did.  We didn't.  We do now.

Jake on the other hand doesn't like to get lost.  Have you ever seen a grown man have a tearful tantrum behind the wheel?  That might be a bit of an embellishment but he did almost run three men over on the sidewalk.

They shouted "Hey man. What you doing? You trying to run us over?"

He replied, "Shut up. I've got a truck." He gunned the engine and sped away.

At this point I am silent and dazed because I had no idea where we were and Jake was angry at me because I had downloaded the wrong directions from Google Maps.

Meanwhile Bub had found the church, which I think irritated Jake a little.  Bub kept giving us the wrong directions on the phone.  He was insisting the church was on K NW and 7TH.  It was on 13TH and G NW.  My brother was absolutely no help.  He didn't know if we should turn left or right.  He does usually use the subway.  So my brother's friend told us to go to 13TH and turn left. 13TH is a one way street.  We could have gone to 14TH and turned but the baptism was over, and Jake just wanted to get the hell out of D.C.  He wouldn't let me drive because it's his truck.

Those kind of situations make me giggle.  So I'm laughing and Jake's silent and fuming.  Then he missed the turn onto 95 and started screaming and cussing which just made me laugh harder.

The experience wasn't totally a waste of expensive gas.  I know how to go downtown.  Jake did eventually calm down and see the humor of the situation.  What did it was driving past a docked Carnival cruise ship and imagining what it would be like if it turned on it's side.  That is serious.  Getting lost is not.

Amel Laurrieux and Mondo Grosso

"Who You Are"

Saturday, February 25, 2012

Excellent Article On Bessie Coleman: The First African American Woman Pilot

http://www.centennialofflight.gov/essay/Explorers_Record_Setters_and_Daredevils/Coleman/EX11.htm

"Soon after being turned down by American flight schools, Coleman met Robert Abbott, publisher of the well-known African American newspaper, the Chicago Defender. He recommended that Coleman save some money and move to France, which he believed was the world's most racially progressive nation, and obtain her pilot's license there. Coleman quickly heeded Abbott's advice and quit her job as a manicurist to begin work as the manager of a chili parlor, a more lucrative position. She also started learning French at night. In November 1920, Bessie took her savings and sailed for France. She also received some additional funds from Abbott and one of his friends."

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Sociopathic Tendencies in Child Sex Abusers

As someone who has been sexually abused, I've always wanted to understand how a human being became depraved, full of enough evil and cruelty to rape an innocent child.  To try to increase my perception and knowledge I have been reading The Sociopath Next Door by Martha Stout Ph.D.  In the book Dr. Stout dedicates an entire chapter about the value of a conscious.

Dr. Stout's book covers why not having a conscious is fatal, how sociopaths can appear to be harmless and sweet, and how difficult is it to immediately know if someone is a sociopath. Stout describes a sociopath as "someone incapable of having a real emotional attachment to another, is unable to love or worry about family and friends and cannot share joy with others" (Stout 45-47). Sociopaths know how to pretend to love, but cannot actually care for another person.

In Chapter 7, "The Etiology of Guiltlessness: What causes Sociopathy,"  I had to look up etiologyAccording to the Webster-Merriam Dictionary, etiology, a noun, is the cause of disease and abnormal disease or a branch of knowledge concerned with knowledge; specifically: the branch of medical science concerned with the causes and origins of diseases.  http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/etiology  Stout discusses her belief that sociopathy is probably caused by both heredity and environment.

It was creepy reading about these people.  I suggest you read it only if you're in a good place mentally.


You can read a preview of the book here.







Tuesday, February 14, 2012

DetroitBlog Article By Detroitblogger John: Soul Kitchen

Reblogged from http://metrotimes.com/culture/soul-kitchen-1.1255797

Soul kitchen


It's about the shared inability to afford something as necessary to life as a meal
The hungry line up for a meal at Crossroads Soup Kitchen.
By Detroitblogger John
Published: January 11, 2012


They stand in line so patiently, you'd never know some of them haven't eaten since yesterday.


The line's so long it winds from the soup kitchen door along the wall and around the corner to the back, then curves down the alley and out to the street on the side. And no matter how hard the wind blows or how heavy the rain falls, they wait politely. By the end of the day, a thousand of them will have stood here.


The crowd is a mix of those who are somewhat poor to those who are desperately so. Some are homeless and have to scrounge every meal, while others are just short on their assistance at some point each month and need a little help. But once in line the distinctions are blurred. They're just hungry people waiting for a meal.


Here is Jean Kahn, 72 and slight, who walked a mile to eat today. And here is Jessica Rodnez, 23, who works at McDonald's and just started nursing school, but whose food stamps don't cover a month's worth of meals for her and her two young children, who've come with her, bundled in winter clothes. Here is glassy-eyed Billy Rogers, 52, who's waiting on a dishwashing job he says he's sure to get any day, though the wait so far has been 16 years. And here is Sidney Lester Williams, a name the 72-year-old offers with aristocratic flourish. He's a well-dressed gentleman who, like some here today, isn't really here anymore in a sense. "My father was a wizard, mother was a witch," he announces.


Inside the door, Saundra Richardson sits alone at a small table, same as every Sunday, waiting for the hungry to pour into the building. She's like the lunchlady and doorman in one, the person who instructs the volunteers making the meals, the one those in line have to see before eating one. And whether it's due to her calm demeanor or the white clerical collar she wears, everyone is soft-spoken and polite when they approach her.


An Episcopal minister since 1990, Richardson spends her weekdays working at Mariners Inn on Cass, a substance abuse treatment center, and spends her Sundays at this table, inside the Crossroads Soup Kitchen on West Grand Boulevard near 14th Street. The two jobs leave her no time to preach at a church. "My altar is a soup pot," the 63-year-old says.


To eat, each person in line has to get a little paper ticket from the big roll Richardson holds in her hands. Each person gets one ticket, and each ticket gets one meal. A handful of those in line are allowed additional tickets for someone ill or infirm back at home, but that absent person has to be on the extras list. There are so many people in line that if someone takes more than one meal just for themselves, some in line might not get anything at all.


No proof of income or need is required to get food. "We'll take anybody who wants to come in, anybody who wants a meal," says Nicole Harris, the 31-year-old associate director of Crossroads, waiting for the door to open and the room to fill.


About two-dozen volunteers scramble in the kitchen, ladling soup out of massive pots, making ham and cheese sandwiches one by one, pouring coffee or lemonade into Styrofoam cups, and meeting face to face, one at a time, with a thousand single casualties of bad times and hard lives.


"People are people, and they're just a little down on their luck," says volunteer David Schull, 52. "These are just people wanting to make a living, wanting to have a life. And everybody that could possibly pitch in to help them out, if they would, things would be a lot better in this area of Detroit."


Crossroads does a little of everything for the poor, because there are so many ways the poor can use help.


They offer counseling, employment assistance, a food pantry, a clothes closet. They let the clients, as they're called here, use their copiers and fax machines to try to find work. Sometimes they'll buy someone their prescription medicine for the month, or help with a late utility bill, or cover overdue rent, or buy someone a bus pass to get them to a new job until they start getting regular paychecks. They'll help people get new IDs, work boots, tool belts, eyeglasses.


So this place becomes the general go-to spot for those who are struggling. Although hundreds of homeless stand in that Sunday morning line, many who come here have simply fallen into poverty but are just one or two factors away from rising above it.


"I would say more than half, if given the opportunity, could make it," Harris says. "If they could get into some kind of job training program, if they could get into some kind of supportive housing program, if they could get support for child care, if they could get their GED, then they could make it."


Crossroads was founded in 1971 by Father James McLaren, an Episcopal priest at the Cathedral Church of St. Paul at Woodward and Warren, to offer general outreach to the poor of the area. It began in a small church office, moved to a Midtown building when the demand proved too great, and then to this west side location four years ago when even more space was needed. A small office on Jefferson serves the east side too. Everything's funded through donations.


Back in Midtown, the clients were mostly single men. At this building, there are a lot more families and single mothers from the neighborhood. And nobody who visits here is ever forgotten.


There are reams of paper files upstairs for every single person who's passed through the doors. "We are still real old school," Harris says, showing a 2-inch-thick file. "Clients will have us keep their birth certificates or their Social Security cards, and I think that's a big reason why we haven't gotten away from the paper files, because this is like mom's house for a lot of people. It's like their safe deposit boxes."


Though the homeless will often float between different agencies in town depending on what they need on a given day, some grow attached to Crossroads because of all that's offered under one roof. Recently, the county morgue called Harris to say they found a homeless person dead in the street. She got the call because the one piece of ID he had on him was his Crossroads card. "We hadn't seen him in about 10 years," she says. "But he still had our card in his wallet."


Jesse Travis, 30, walks meekly into the soup kitchen. "Where do I sign up for the food?" he asks Richardson. It's his first time here.


"No, you just get a ticket," Richardson replies, giving him one. He looks relieved that it's this easy.


It's noon. The door has just opened and the line has moved inside. Long white tables offer space for 175 people to sit and eat. But there are usually plenty of seats open, since most clients seem to prefer takeout, wandering back into the cold to eat somewhere alone.


Travis chooses to stay, takes the chili and a ham and cheese sandwich served today, sits alone and eats while looking around, curiously. A friend tipped him off to these Sunday lunches.


He's open about his circumstances. "I have a mental disability," he says, matter-of-factly. "I receive Social Security disability every month but it's not enough to cover my bills, not enough to cover all my expenses, so I came here." He had attended a good college, held a great job, then a bad breakup with a girlfriend when he was 20 years old led to him hearing voices and seeing things, he says. He was diagnosed with schizophrenia.


"Life just went downhill from there," he says. "A lot of my life has been lost because I've been focusing mostly on my illness."


Loss like his defines the lives of those in line — loss of their job, or their home, or their sanity. Loss, somehow, of their old life. The causes are different but the effect is the same — a shared inability to afford something as basic to life as a meal. That common fate brings them together here, at a place that offers each of them just about any kind of help to rise out of this life.


After a couple of hours the line finally dwindles. The volunteers grab bowls of soup and sit with those who they just served, those who but for a few wrong choices or turns of bad fortune, turn out to be not that different from them.


"So many people come down and say they realize they have way more in common with the people that we serve than they ever thought," Harris says. "You know, we all kind of want the same things — everybody wants to be able to provide for themselves, and we have a lot of the same values. We think that we're coming down to serve them, but we have a lot more in common with the poor than we'd like to admit."


Reblogged from http://metrotimes.com/culture/soul-kitchen-1.1255797

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

"Something I'd Like To Do" By Brenda Russell.

http://www.brendarussell.com/about/

Especially For Wide Awake Jake.  This song is from the Love Life Album that came out in 1981.  I had the cassette and wore it out.  Literally.


Thursday, February 2, 2012

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

"Quiet Girl" by Langston Hughes

Thank you Langston for seeing and writing about women like me.  I love you.  Happy Birthday.  Hughes was born on February 1, 1902.

Quiet Girl

I would liken you

To a night without stars

Were it not for your eyes.

I would liken you

To a sleep without dreams

Were it not for your songs.


Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Happy Birthday To Me!

One of my favorite singers/songwriters/activists Erykah Badu.  I want that chance to cry and fly.


Wednesday, December 21, 2011

True Story: This is what happened to my son.

Gulnare Free Will Baptist Church: Kentucky Congregation Overturns Ban On Interracial Couples.
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/12/04/kentucky-church-interracial-couples_n_1128712.html

From Huffington Post: "Stacy Stepp, pastor of the Gulnare Free Will Baptist Church in Pike County, told The Associated Press that the vote by nine people last week was declared null and void after it was determined that new bylaws can't run contrary to local, state or national laws. He said the proposal was discriminatory, therefore it couldn't be adopted."

Jesus didn't change their minds, but public pressure and the law did.  Hmph!  Jesus must be disgusted.  I am. 

My son Bub, pictured in his younger days on the right of this blog, joined a Freewill Baptist church in Hixson, TN about three years ago.  The minister said that several members left the church when Bub started attending.  Certain people did not want to worship with him and they claim to be Christians.

That fact is that many churches of all kinds are segregated and it does not have to be that way, but it is.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Blog Change

Wednesday Word of Wisdom will now be posted on Let Me Tell The Story!

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Wednesday Word of Wisdom. Wisdom Provided By Lucy Parsons

"Never be deceived that the rich will allow you to vote away their wealth."  Lucy Parsons

http://www.lucyparsonsproject.org/

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Poetry: A Short Note to My Very Critical and Well-Beloved Friends and Comrades by June Jordan

http://junejordan.com/

"A Short Note to My Very Critical and Well-Beloved Friends and Comrades" By June Jordan
First they said I was too light
Then they said I was too dark
Then they said I was too different
Then they said I was too much the same
Then they said I was too young
Then they said I was too old
Then they said I was too interracial
Then they said I was too much a nationalist
Then they said I was too silly
Then they said I was too angry
Then they said I was too idealistic
Then they said I was too confusing altogether:
Make up your mind! They said. Are you militant
or sweet? Are you vegetarian or meat? Are you straight
or are you gay?
And I said, Hey! It's not about my mind.

From Passion: New Poems, 1977-1980. Published by Beacon Press.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Child Rape At Penn State

Because I too experienced child sexual abuse, I have to surround myself with positivity in order to write about the subject of sexual violence and secrets. 

While writing I'm listening to Moroccan jazz.  Malika Zarra's "Run."   She's on my ipod.

When I first heard about a child allegedly being raped by Penn State's former defensive coordinator Jerry Sandusky in the showers at Pennsylvania State, I went into a strong stormy rage.  It was the kind of rage that enables one to kill with deliberate messy violence.

Then I went on the Penn State's website and read the statements by former president of Penn State Graham Spanier Nov. 5 Nov. 8, heard about the student riots in reaction to Penn State football coach Joe Paterno and Spanier being fired, and became ill when someone told me about Sandusky's book Touched.  I needed a break from this shit.

"How  To Regain Your Soul" by William Stafford

Come down Canyon Creek trail on a summer afternoon

that one place where the valley floor opens out. You will see
the white butterflies. Because of the way shadows
come off those vertical rocks in the west, there are
shafts of sunlight hitting the river and a deep
long purple gorge straight ahead. Put down your pack.

Above, air sighs the pines. It was this way
when Rome was clanging, when Troy was being built,
when campfires lighted caves. The white butterflies dance
by the thousands in the still sunshine. Suddenly, anything
could happen to you. Your soul pulls toward the canyon
and then shines back through the white wings to be you again.

Hidden In Plain Sight

It is well known that degrading images of women and men being sexually assaulted are all over the internet.  Almost every week someone on the news is arrested for having child pornography.  Children and women are regularly kidnapped and coerced into prostitution.  A prominent psychiatrist who worked with the county and school government in my area was just sentenced to prison for sexual abuse. Part of Story here.  To Catch A Predator will never run out of guest stars.

Let's get real!  Sandusky is not a horned gargoyle.  He is a human that came from human beings.  He has lived with humans all his life.   That evil man is one of us.  We have a human problem that is monstrously ugly and difficult to think and talk about.  To be continued...


Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Music Written And Performed By Women Of Color: Sweet Honey In The Rock

Fulani Chant was written by Aisha Kahlil.  I saw Sweet Honey sing live a few weeks ago and Ms. Kahlil said she was inspired to write the song early one morning when she heard birds singing.  During the performance of the song each member had a separate part, but they sang in one accord.  The result was exultant, otherwordly, beautiful, uplifting.  I will never hear birdsong in the morning in quite the same way.  http://www.sweethoney.com/about/Aisha.php


Penn State Rapes

I am still too upset to write about this subject, but let me put this question out there; why do you think Sandusky felt comfortable taking children to the showers at Penn State?

Wednesday Word Of Wisdom. Wisdom Provided By Dalai Lama

"I find hope in the darkest of days, and focus in the brightest. I do not judge the universe."


Dalai Lama

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Readers

I'm off to read some poetry to try and calm down some before I write about what I think about the letter Graham Spanier, current president of Penn State, wrote on the school website about Jerry Sandusky and the children he allegedly abused on and off the school's campus.  I am past angry, mad or disgusted.  I am just warning you that there is probably going to be some cussing out loud in the post.  God Damn!  There are some sick twisted people around us.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Music Written And Performed By Women Of Color: Jazzyfatnastees

The Jazzyfatnastees are Tracey Moore and Mercedes Martinez.  "Hear Me" was written by
Tracey Moore.

WEDNESDAY WORD OF WISDOM. Wisdom Provided by Vijali Hamilton.

"We are witnessing the fragmentation of our world right in front of our eyes. Our social, economic, spiritual, and environmental systems are disintegrating, yet I hold a positive view of the future. In order to give birth, you have to let go of everything inside you. The old has to break up before the new can come through. So, what's happening right now is actually positive.  But it's painful, because birth is not without pain."  Vijali Hamilton

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

On The Soap Box! Over Fifty Fun.

Wide Awake Jake and I just renewed our AARP membership and guess what: We get a discount  at at least 530 Regal Theatres in the U.S.  That right, that's right!  For $5.50 we get in the theatre, a 32oz drink, and a 64oz popcorn.  The next think you know, young people will be trying to get fake AARP cards.  Yeah baby!  Age does have some advantages. www.aarp.org/regaldirectory

WEDNESDAY WORD OF WISDOM. Art Provided by Various Crochet Artists.

"The essence of all beautiful art, all great art, is gratitude."
                                                                                                                      Friedrich Nietzsche   


"I gotta find a circle to teach me how to crochet." Judaye



African Flower Bag by eclectic gypsyland


Crocheted Felted Flower 6 by renatekirkpatrick

Circle of Friends Afghan by Mossyowls
 


Shawl by uju1960

Sunday, October 30, 2011

"Climbing" By Lucille Clifton

"Climbing"
a woman precedes me up the long rope.
her dangling braids the color of rain.
maybe i should have had braids.
maybe i should have kept the body i started,
slim and possible as a boy's bone.
maybe i should have wanted less.
maybe i should have ignored the bowl in me
burning to be filled.
maybe i should have wanted less.
the woman passes the notch in the rope
marked Sixty. I rise toward it, struggling,
hand over hungry hand.
Lucille Clifton

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

WEDNESDAY WORD OF WISDOM. Art Provided By Carolyn Crump


"I've never been married, but I tell people I'm divorced so they won't think something's wrong with me." Elayne Boosler



Joy by Carolyn Crump, Engraving 7x5



Saturday, October 22, 2011

Some Other Things My Mind Can't Absorb...

Some people can't understand that people of African descent in America are individuals with differing opinions on everything, and that it's suppose to be that way because we are human.

Troy Davis was executed and Charles Manson is still alive.

Thousands of children in Somalia starved this year. 

The belief that there is only one way to be.

Universal Fear of Strong Women

How quickly time passes...