REGRETS

I often look at my life and think, I only have one or two regrets but listening to Luther sing, Dance with My Father" I realized I had another one, just now realized in that instance of the title. I remembered being in our house on 31st and Stevens, and my fathers shoes looking dirty before I stepped on them then, forgetting all about them as they began to move with the music he'd turned on. That's where I learned all the steps to all the dances I would commit to memory when I grew up. That's where I learned about timing, pause and any number of things that make you move your body to music, knowing you will want to dance forever.

Along the window sill of life, many things rise up in that window you sit by and with me, his absence from my life was always looming in the distance while it rained down my life's window. It made me angry, not to have him in my life, always being late to pick me up, always drunk, always loving me regardless of how he was, or how ugly I could perform because of it.

Then one day I quit thinking of myself and thought of him and because I was a grown ass woman, I realized he was the best father he could be, just not what I needed and listening to Luther wanting to dance with his Father again, I felt my heart give itself a small squeeze and at that moment, I too, wanted to dance with my Father again, but this time tell him, I loved him.

WHEN DO YOU STOP BEING A MOTHER?

The phone rang and an exasperated daughter asked me, "When do you stop being a Mother?" I told her, " I don't know, Baby, you just called me!" We both laughed because that was a classic example of parentings misunderstood directions. We forget these kids didn't come with a laundry label so you would know how to keep the kid looking it's best and understanding the ground rules. I only babysat twice so what I knew about taking care of kids was zilch. Besides, I became a photographers model as soon as I stepped one long leg out the door at fifteen. She evidently thought it over and understood her plight, not sure if I did so........... when DO you quit being Mom?

And where is the period when you go off and fly around the world or jump in your RV and take in some lakes along the highway, or your and a friend take one of those tours to the Canyon? I missed that somehow because this same daughter that was asking the question kept finding me in Arizona a couple times a year and at first I was a bit surprised since she wasn't too hot on talking to me as a child. Now Im sitting here in my native birthplace and she's acting like my Mother and I've been relegated to the child position again. Missed the whole thing I did. But I'm not going to complain or start any uprising. She hasn't made me go find her a switch yet!

LITTLE BOY NOISES

There are few boys in our family. When I had my son there were three young and two older. Not having boys around to care for, their mannerisms, sounds and words are long forgotten from their playground antics and now I'm a mother and have to guide him in the ways of my world. Well when he first came into my world, after having one girl that spoke excessively and the other that had the conversation of an autistic mute, I was ill prepared for the many sounds that issued form the short stocky boy rambling on the floor running Tonka trucks down the carpet and around the legs of chairs and blocks of wood he'd piled up.

The sounds changed from roars to hisses and clucks. Sounds of explosions as a toy was dropped from on high to blow up the pile of blocks. There were wild sounds at times when he simply sat in a chair eating his breakfast, or on the toilet showing me what a big boy he was. Beside myself with worry he might be retarded I asked my Mother what did she think. "Cheri", she said with a soft smile, "he's making little boy noises." Since then Ive paid attention to sounds that come from men, and find there isnt much of a change from the explosives sounds they hurled as kids from the description of how a long pass was caught by the running back as he plowed into the opposing team. But dont take my word for it, watch a group of them enjoying a football game and listen to them running through all the "little boy noises".

R E D

Willis made the only film I ever walked out on, (Hudson Hawk)but was never detered from continuing to let him show me a good time and boy does he ever. It was 3PM on a work day and the show was full. We hollered and laughed, we clapped and whistled. Hot damn he was at it again but this time with pros that stole the show ever other scene. Mirren with heavy artillery and almost apologetic for not being able to quite "cut the killing habit", a hoot and holler while still being the perfect lady enjoying a little girl time with Mary Louise who just thinks its all one grand time, finally. Bruce and the rest are at their laid back best while Malcovich should get at least a mention at an Oscar for just being nuts. He was genius.
Morgan Freeman continues to deliver regardless of the role and Bruce is totally believable playing the reluctant retiree flirting with a girl in the pension office, as he is beating his young nemesis half to death. In the end they garner your respect if for nothing else than bejng able to deliver on cue and show you why they are older and still a box office draw. They know what the hell they're doing. Want to laugh and have a good time? Go see the movie, you cant lose with this one.

BELIEFS

One seldom investigates their beliefs. All have them and I'd venture to say 80% of them are unproven yet everyday of our lives are dictated by them, our unproven beliefs. Generally speaking we believe in an invisible entity we've never seen, with powers of unequaled voracity and believe the God to be male, merciful and kind while millions are killed, burned, starved, wars rage and hundreds of thousands are washed away in tidal waves and volcano mud buries them in their cities and churches where some have taken refuge. Yet we personally believe He has answers to this rampant killing He does and has listened to our individual prayers and guided us through our lives.

Our soldiers believe if they pray to God they will be victorious in their quests to kill and maim their enemies, who are praying on the other side of the DMZ for victory in killing and maiming their enemies, you know, on the other side of the DMZ. Now we want our God to play favorites, that little game of ours since childhood learned from the adults that really rule our lives.

We are dragged to church and told that God is a white man sitting on an enormous throne in a toga. He has a gazillion angels that just stand around singing about how wonderful he is. In our child's mind we think of the hungry kids in China that were starving so we had to eat all our breakfast, and wondered why God didn't send some of those angels just standing around, down to feed those kids.

No matter what happens to us, it was meant to be. We are told God likes us to suffer and has a plan for us. We learn when we die we will lie quietly in our graves until Jesus comes for us, though nobody seems to know why there are still ghosts walking around, you know the kind they tell us don't exist, where are they going? And why does there have to be a war before Jesus can come and rescue us? Why is there so much blood shedding? Cant He just speak peace into the world? 'They told me He could. He spoke the world and Universe into being, so why can't he just say to all the waring nations, "Go home and feed your poor". He could do that.

"YOU KNOW DAT'S RIGHT"

All through my life they have been there, two or three non descriptive old guys, laughing at a shared joke, or some forgotten memory stuck in one of their minds, some woman, some dice game, some war. A party not intended to include some nosey girl, or uninterested passerby, just something to laugh about, between them. You'd find them on a bench, a stoop, the old barbershop or like Mr. Bean, propped on a stool in a favorite cafe, or maybe their laughing about that old drunk that hit JuJu and got run out of Fat Larry's Juke Joint that night down in Tupelo Mississippi.

I didnt realize how important two guys like this were, until I saw this picture and began remembering that part of my life I left out a while back. The familiar part that let you know how you still loved your youth when you could turn your nose up at them and now realizing you didnt see many like them anymore. Like all the old familiar things, they too were passing. Drifting away on memory clouds that came less and less these days.

They'd gotten up that morning, went through their ritual of preparing to meet each other like it was going to a job, when in a way it was. The job to remember to meet a friend that might soon go away too. To put on garments that could be taken off if it got too hot or buttoned up in a chill. They called it layering now, back in the day it was just dressing smart for crazy weather. One opened the door and let the dog out, the other glanced at an empty chair in the kitchen table, then slowly closed the door and headed for breakfast. After they'd had enough coffee and the chill had left the air, it was bench time. That would take up the better part of the day, until it was time to go back home, feeling good about your life, your friend, your dog. A couple of things he said he remembered, but really didn't because you had to direct the conversation in a way to move it along when his friend got too hung up trying to remember the color of a button or some other name.

One put his cap on the peg by the door and glanced at the other chair, he smiled, betcha he remembered her. His friend opened his back door and called the dog, Pearly to come on in the house. He had named it after that sassy, big butt girl in Houston that time he left Mississippi and smiled, betcha he remembered that! His old lady never knew. Now, time to fix dinner, just for one. They each smiled remembering their day, ready to do it all again tomorrow, them two old guys.

NEEDED....A CUTTING EDGE

I have made a determination of today’s Sr. citizen in America. You cant get through life here without a pair of succors and an assorted number of sharp instruments. If you have any intentions of eating the breakfast of champions, you could spend your whole morning trying to break into the tough wax paper if you don’t have your grandkids around as it’s impossible trying to get through that wax paper without a sharp instrument. Never let it be said our packaging isn’t sufficiently protecting that precious product they just got your money for. Oh, Its not for you, all that plastic and cardboard, its for the dingbat that wants to put powdered strychnine in your Cherrios (they must have powdered strict nine by now,)
And the medicine bottles of endless pills where the warning says keep away from children, I haven’t met anyone yet that hasn’t given it to the grandkids to open.

I love electronic toys and gadgets but Im almost through trying to purchase them because I havent figured out how you break open the plastic from the marketing paper with the brights pictures and instructions, without the kind of sicsors used for metal cutting, and in my old age iv’e acquired soft hands and not strength in them. I even considered shooting a package once…………and I had good hands then. Now with my oxygen they have taken away the easy open plastic tab and replaced it with a strip of tape, even my hard nails cant cut through so here I am, looking through drawers for a weapon I can carry in my cyclinder bag. So far I havent found one.

And what is the tiny printing about these days? Every bill I get including my bank statement is printed in a font so small I have to get a magnifying glass to read them and that’s not just us old folks, who can read that mess?

THE TRUTH OF THE MATTER

We have all grown up with the old wives tales, myths and legends of human life. I will bet most of us were told there are no monsters and no such thing a ghosts, BUT, a paltry few of us or maybe all of us if we are honest have stepped into that time machine, that tear in the fabric of space-time and have shuddered from passing a cold spot in a house. Ever heard an electronic recording of a ghost? Ever seen one, felt one, passed one? What's that out of the corner of your eye?

In Church they told us, we die and are buried in the earth then on the day Jesus comes again we will all rise up and go "home" with him. Yeah OK. I'm asking, if that is really true, who is the Jersey Devil? Who is Bigfoot? Where did that ghosts that just crossed the room go? And why are the hand prints of little kids still being seen on the trunks of cars trying to push them over the tracks out of harms way? What is up with this? So why do preachers still tell you that lie? Because they are no closer to the truth than we are, but one thing I'm learning, the quantum physics of the modern age is beginning to make sense even if the Church doesn't.

According to the the multidimensional theory, time is non local, exists on all levels then, now, our future and we all have access to other dimensions even if we don't know how to get there. I'm thinking what if the ghosts we see are simply residual lives imprinted on a strip of space-time in another dimension and the replay button is stuck so it plays over and over. And what if the monsters we hear of are really from another dimension they have found the door too and have become masters of slipping through it then back, leaving few traces that soon slip away. Not all will admit to it being real, they'll classify it under hallucinations and laugh at the people who have just encountered their first black hole incident. You know, the ones the flying saucers and ET's use. The truth is the scariest thing you will ever experience because that is where the real world is and that lie your Momma told you isn't even close to reality. The world is changing, heading at breakneck speed to the other side. Wanna take a ride?

BACK IN THE DAY

The older I get the more nostalgic I become. Maybe my mortality is kicking me in my short term memory or people I know are dying too young. I want to yell "wait and see the new 3D movie to some and make me remember how funny church was" to others. At the building I'm living in, a friend is making birdhouses for us to get and decorate, then hang in the yards around the building. They will be happy doing that I suppose but I want to make a Juke Joint, dancers, band, barbecue and all. I want something to remind me of the fun Ruth and I had dancing in places we probably shouldn't have been at all.

At other times when I'd sit with friends in The Cab, Barbecue sauce would run down my chin while I gnawed away on a rib trying to keep it off my clothes, and the aftermath of dancing in places with raggedy floors filled with sawdust that clung to your stockings, well you knew it was going to be a fight to get it all off without running them, when you got home.

Three fourth of all my life's knowledge came from those nightlife places. And even when I was old enough to legally be in them, I often times told my Mother how awful some were she'd told me not to go to. She just laughed, she knew me so well, she knew I was only going to dance and probably hoped I had enough sense to stay out of the big trouble. Those were great times, like doing Halloween at 18 years of age. I honestly didn't see anything wrong with it but Mom in her wisdom told me at five foot eight, I was too old to go trick or treating anymore. I told her no I wasn't, Carl Charles was 22 and he was still going with us. I did stop though, and as it should be, that memory slipped back along side the others and now I just smile thinking of it. Maybe if I'd been shorter......................................

Mosque on Sacred Ground

Well they are up and at it again. Somebody is disrespecting our grief. Some people have the audacity to want to built a monument of the one thing that gave us all that grief, or so they told us that was what did it. Personally I haven't gotten over the fall of buildings that defied the physics of gravity. Those pesky Muslims want to build their church in the neighborhood of the twin towers, and America is about to have a cow over it, and mad 'cause Obama mentioned the constitution's stand on freedom of religion etc. Well what the hell, we are ignoring the right to bear arms and the babies born here being Americans too, so why not chunk freedom of religion out with the babies bathwater?
Well excuse me up righteous America, but where were all you guys when we gathered up the Japanese, stole their money and land and shoved them all in internment camps? What happened to that good old American "innocent until proven guilty" law, and thou shall not covet they neighbors possessions? What happened when we gathered up all the Indians and packed them unceremoniously in camps, took their children and dared them to speak their own language, massacred their food sources, then built any and everything we wanted too on their sacred ground, that is after we dug up their ancestors, and disregarded the treaties we held with them. What the hell, their just Injuns! Where were you and your self righteous protests then? Oh, I see, the rest of us don't matter? If I were you I wouldn't get them too angry, they can read history too.

THE KNOWN DOESEN'T MAKE SENSE

Why do we find it so hard to believe in the unseen? In the non-experienced, the told tale of wondrous things that only happen to sages of a Golden Age? Whether we truly entertain a belief in God, it's tucked away in the fold of a synapses just in case it turns out to be true and we hadn't taken full advantage of it. Mankind likes options.

I ask many questions of the unanswered riddles Ghia holds for us to ponder, to look at wide eyed and when unable to find an answer, move on to less brainy pastures. We all look at the pyramids of Egypt, accept the story of slaves building it, toiling day after day in the hot Egyptian sun. They say it was built in twenty years, hmmmmm. But if that is true, then for the amount of stones that occupy this edifice to be set in those twenty years, one stone would have to be in place, every sixty seconds. How did that happen?

There is a 2200 ton stone lying in a quarry in Lebanon, all dressed and ready to go to the temple of Zeus. Why it was left there we may never know and think maybe it was because, no machine on earth can move a stone that big and heavy in this age let alone a couple thousand ago. Yet, the other two that make up part of the Temple of Zeus, are resting there, a mile up the road and twenty feet off the ground. How did that happen?

We have atomic clocks to keep accurate time so calendars may function in this world we occupy. So it should be our calendars would be precise and without blemish, perfect keepers of time for day and night and yet, the most accurate time keeper is a Mayan calendar made eons ago and the image of a man dead center with his tongue hanging out. What, to chide us for not being able to "get it right"? How does that happen?

So when we are told there are live animals on a nearby planet why would we question the validity of that statement. Why couldn't we accept that as we do the other things we were told? Because they told us first that couldn't happen? Well it did. So the question now should be how, did that happenl. There, to me lies the real mystery to solve. So take a good look at the picture and maybe you can tell the rest of us how this creature, abundant on Mars, hasn,t been mentioned by NASA. Maybe they too are wondering.......................how'd that happen?

THOUGHTS ON CURSING

I am guilty of cursing through all my life and much of it in rapt abandonment, and maybe that's because I hang with guys or because I worked in bars for most of my life where it's as real as it gets. Which ever it was, I still enjoy a couple phrases uttered in solid disbelief or utter glee of what particular dramatic moment has just occured.

One of the first words my very prim daughter after dropping her bottle at 14 months uttered was, S___. In fact I think its the only curse work Ive ever heard her say so I guess that word is as consistent as she is......I know its old as she is.

My Moms word was, Damn when she was upset, but one day she was upset with some person at church and was really throwing the flack around, then she called him a Bastard. My Dad and I almost fell face down on the dinner table when she let that one go. Because the distance from Damn to Bastard for her was, walking from one coast to the other. I was personally proud of her as it was a step up from reprobate, her normal utterance at the displeasure of men.

My favorite one is F---. Now there's a word with personality expressed in multiple ways that defines a situation unlike any other. There's drama, and stature in that spoken word. It's a word that has to be thrown into the world with power. Or with quiet bewilderment accompanied by the inflection of three sounds that start high with the first word, drop to a lower scale and even out somewhere around the middle of the last word to really make that question theatre worthy, try it.

You can ask "what the f " and not even have to have an explanation for what the exclamation is about. Its simply a call to attention, to keep those around you alert for what is happening in their vicinity.

Curse words help us divulge emotion, intent and rage for any situation known to man in the worlds hardest to learn language which is probably why babies and foreigners learn that part of our language first.

Damn, exposes the complete futility of a situation or the complete surprise of something startling and outrageous. I dont know if all cultures enter into a chorus line on the word Damn, but Black do and its always hillarious when at least three of them do it together.
I know comedians get carried away, those with a short vocabulary wear it out as cursing isnt for everyone and that should be respected but for those that fine pure poetry in the uttered profanity, long live the King.

BUT CAN YOU PROVE IT

Talking to a friend today, and others at different times I'm told about their beliefs. They spread the word of that belief but never have I heard, "I can prove it" said with it. That is because they can't. If you ask them why they believe that you get no answer other than, they just do. They never have the details of the belief, where the facts were formulated, or the original language of the belief they are clinging to so hard, if its other than their chosen one.

The Bible they quote from has seldom been completely read and never studied academically but still it's relied upon to prove an unprovable point because the Bible is the Readers Digest of the theological world, and unless read in the Hebrew it was written in, they haven't got a clue to the real meanings of the words they quote.

Giving up one's beliefs is the hardest thing in the world because a whole lifetime of knowledge lies dormant in there. What their strength is derived from, why proverty is accept6able in their world. Its why they can walk into certain death with a smile and fortitude because God will protect them. Its why they can lose every possession and still smile because God giveth and God taketh away.

What is one to do if there nothing to believe in? If there is no all powerful Heaven at the end of them golden streets, and no Saint Peter at the lock of those pearly gates? You cant forgive all the people you should but you firmly believe Heaven is where you're going. Maybe you should find out who God is, if he is. And who was there with Him in the beginning to watch him make the world? And what if he used sound to do it?

Meet Bonnie, a real friend

I really wasnt expecting to meet many new friends when I went to Arizona. But in the course of two years I did meet quite a few very nice accomodating people. Well I had an automobile accident and needed rehab as I suddenly couldnt use my lungs as efficiently as before and while there I found a senior citizen that was affilliated with a support group of people that suffered with COPD as I was doing. I laugh now calling her a senior citizen as Bonnie's mind was still locked up like mine, around 35 or 40.

She had a way about her that made you feel welcomed, a guest of hers without guile or prejudice and that was always a welcomed feeling, so I joined her group and found, something I never thought I would need, become a divining force in my life, led by a grey haired trooper named, Bonnie. She was the glue that held it all together and now when I know she is getting tired and wants to stop, I can see it just falling apart without her there to lead us.

When I retired, I was about entertaining me, with things I like to do like paint, make jewelry and write about all manner of things that pop up in my brain. When one of the classes became available to me I signed up for it. When I arrived for class there she stood and we bonded that day. She liked to write just like I did only she was a professional so every class we sat side by side with out newest writing attempt the teacher had assigned and everytime we pretty much blew the class away. I learned a lot from her.

I found out what kind of friend she was who pretty much saved me from dying a second time when I called her for help and she was johnny on the spot along with her husband, Gerry. Bonnie is one of the persons I miss because she is always so positive no matter how she feels and I know at times its very rough. She has had such sadness in her life but she lifts everybody else up around her and that is the type of person, people tend to gather around, sapping their strength and energy. I can only hope she will find it in her heart to wean them off and gain her space for the strength she needs. It will be hard, 'cause you just want to be around her.

EVERYTHING THAT BUILT AMERICA

I was reading the article by Tim Wise, http://ephphatha-poetry.blogspot.com/2010/04/imagine-if-tea-party-was-black-tim-wise.html, an eloquent white man that "gets it" and the comments were almost as good as the article. It seems when whites try to defend themselves and their country against anyone that would criticize their patriotic fervor and disguised history, all the rest of us get blamed for playing the race card if we dont agree with them. I certainly don't agree with their stupid tea party because as I remember it, didn't the first ones disguise themselves as Indians? Seems like cowardice played a big roll in that patriotic theme and a way to blame the Indians for one more thing.

Bush let us know if you don't agree with the war in Iraq, you were unpatriotic. I didn't agree with being a bully, which was what I saw the taking over of a country that hadn't spit on our soil to be, but upheld the soldiers that had to fight the stupid thing through no fault of theirs.

I was against Bush as President, not because he was an American President, I was against Bush for the same reason Ron White, the comedian was against it. You can't fix stupid. I'm not for this President because he's Black, I'm for intelligence and we haven't had any of that for years. We had Tricky Dick and Slick Willy, which for all the stuff they did, we are still paying for but that's OK, they are White Americans. Yet the conservatives get all bent out of shape because Obama bowed with an Asian Head of State out of respect?

When they start hollering about what it took to build this country, please try and throw in how the Chinese built railroads, how Indians were "cleared off it" and put in places they needed to be, how Africans worked for no pay until death, and Japanese were carted off and imprisoned in camps until the war was over but no American Germans were, and please remind them again, they, didn't build it, all the rest of us did. But I'm not bitter because life has a way of evening things out, or as some would say, God has a sense of humor. Everybody gets a turn in the barrel and the Mexicans are coming.

FRIENDS ARE THE FAMILY WE GIVE OURSELVES

Everyday should be special in your life even if you're miserable, because someone else in this same city is doing a lot worse than you. So smile and shut the f--- up. You are incharge of your own happYness, and if you arent happy maybe you havent learned what you are supposed to be happy about, or with whom. Let me tell you what makes me happy and it may give you an idea of what you are lacking or better yet, have an abundance of.

Friends. Sure we have relatives, siblings, parents but hey, your choice of friends form the family you know will stick by you. We usually have a Mother friend that will listen to us sympathetically, give us a hug and tell us all will be alright, 'Let me make you a cup of tea." There's the group friends who will kick you to the curb when you have gotten out of line yet help you even when they don't agree with you. Then we have that best friend one that will listen to us moan and groan then laugh and remind us of the fact, they told us not to do that when they saw crazy coming through the club and us looking at him like he was gold. That's the "I told you" side of the family.

We should have a cultured friend that knows which fork to use, and a halleluja friend that wears socks with flipflops. One we admire and strive to be like and one we try to help rise above their lot in life, and one special one you drink coffee with and while away the time. This is your sister friend, one you have genuine love for that knows who the hell you really are, but likes you anyway. This should be our family, these friends of ours right along with our real family because no matter how bad things get, one of them is there to make you happy, they are right beside you just to help you get over that hump.

I lost my sister friend and it took a while to fill up that hole left behind, but eventually I did though I still miss her. So if you need happyness in your life, maybe you should re-do your friends and up date who makes you laugh. Throw a couple guys or girls in the mix, maybe a dog or cat because sometimes they listen and they are always without judgement. I hope you find your other family, they make life soooooo wonderful.

They, are the family we give ourselves.

NOW THAT I'M HERE

Well I suppose it happens to us all after while. You raise your kids then they think they can boss you around. At least mind did, stole me from the hot barren desert and deposited me in The Misty Pit. The what? The pit. Did you who are old enough or young ones that like black and white movies ever see The Snake Pit? Well that's the way I felt while waiting to enter the dining room in this place my kids put me. I was sitting on my scooter watching all those white-haired old ladies pushing their rolling handled push chairs or on their electric arm controlled chairs and thought, it's just like that view of the snake pit. That one lone different person in the middle sitting on my own bright red, street scooter that hits 10mph and careens around a corner almost on two wheels with brown skin and white hair (at least this week) and I almost laughed out loud.

The average age is probably around 79 and I'm wondering, WTF am I doing here? But my girls picked the best place for me. I can come and go as I please but I have the help when I need it and my van is parked outside so hey, I know WTH I'm doing here and it ain't all that bad unless youre looking for modern conversation. And I found that with this lady who is 94 and a kick in the pants. I look for her at meal time, she's one of the bright spots in my day.

My People Were Ashamed

They taught me embarrassment for my own people
They taught me and my lighter friends,
to snicker and roll my eyes at their broken English
They convinced me the hair on my head was a badge of higher humanity

They made me hate the tribal dances and wide splayed feet
They didn't teach me the Kings and Dynasties we built before time
They didn't tell me the language my elders spoke wasn't theirs,
but a comical copy of a continent of people robbed of their own

They didn't make me realize I, was only a crude copy of their cruder culture
bent on domination, greed and genocide, and that my hair wasn't recognized
by them for anything more than hair.
They didn't tell me the hair of my brothers and sisters was the hair of a great,
strong, diverse people.

It took decades to wake up and see, they, were my enemy
and my people held the key to real pride
It took decades to find out I was truly the gem of the earth
They didn't want me to find out that I, was the mother of all mankind.

OLE BLACK WOMEN

The wide mouthed laughter, head thrown back and gold teeth flashing, a hand raised and half thrown in no direction saying, “Go on, Girl” with the proper inflection, ‘cause it went together ..……..friends.

Standing heavy hipped at the stove in summer, humming some spiritual she fancied, sweat-towel thrown across her shoulder, crusty feet sluffed into broke backed shoes …… they always hurt anyway.

White starched dresses packed with matronly weightiness side by side on the front row, puncuating the sermon of the shoutin’, sweatin’ Preacher (hankershief in hand) with “ Amens” Mothers of the church that held your faith, culture ………your heritage.

Wide fancy hats poised carefully on greased, pressed hair, heads rockin’, knit dresses clinging a bit too closey to ripe curves, oiled and worn-worked hands pumping fans in rythm............Sunday morning.

Bulging bosoms you were hugged against with strong fat arms so they could tell you they’d known you since snotty noses and diapers, discipline from anybody, ‘cause you belonged to everybody…….caring village.

Hands that never left you where you’d fallen and faith in Lord Jesus enough to cleave the very earth ..…..strength.

Disappearing Vaseline faces of the past, replaced with modern lady like laughter, smooth lotioned hands, swinging hair, chosen labels, luxury cars, bland and sterile, the fading warmth, half remembered memories of ole Black women,.................................. God bless 'em.

Betty Ann Left

I said goodbye to another of my friends this afternoon. It was cool and damp outside and when I saw her, so was my mood but I tried to think of silly things so as not to give my sad heart a moment to raise its ugly head. It was quite an effort she made to come into my home and chat for a few minutes when even a few tire her so.

Anybody that knows Betty knew she had been going to the hairdresser since she was 6 months old. Heaven forbid Helen Stafford's child had kinky hair and kinky it was but since she's been taking chemo, it didn't fall out like everybody else's did, it got straighter than mine! We had a good laugh on that one. She didn't get good news from her Doctor when the tests came back but I told her, she was going with Helen back to Atlanta and they had better facilities there. She agreed and we passed comfortably over that speed bump.

My lounger that used to seem unable to hold her, almost swallowed her now and just emphasized the act of her long bony hand trying to life a longer bonier leg with ankles and calves no larger than mine, and she sunk into the chair exhausted. Ive had my ups and downs and points of utter frustration with her, no doubt she had with me, but today she was my friend and I loved her, and I knew it was the last time I would see her standing in front of me, then Helen helped her down the steps into the car and away they went so she could rest.

They will leave Wednesday for Atlanta, so send your prayers to Georgia with mine.

AVATAR

I have been dipped in Avatar oil, conjoined with it, and run my fingers through it's blue striped soul only to find, I didn't want to leave there and come back to this stale raped world with no soul. Avatar takes you to a place heretofore unseen so your immersion in it is complete. Its never been done before and to place that 380 Billion dollar movie on the slim shapely shoulders of a Black girl is bold to the unknown of chance.
Avatar gives you the soul of a people, connected as we once were, to their land, their people, all moving as one entity, all connected to their God, as mysterious and hidden as ours, but without the dissension. I cannot discribe this movie to you but you will regret it if you do not go. There is only the one first time. The mind remembers special points, taps a date and purpose to it and its called memory. I cant remember what I went into the kitchen for a minute ago but I remember the day Star wars opened in Tacoma. That was a first. This too, was a firstand you need to go. Trust me, you wont be disappointed.

WHEN ITS TIME AND YOU KNOW IT.

For all things there is a time, a season, a jumping off space some of us recognige, some choose to ignore like how dare that time show up now! Well after laying around sniffing household gas then realizing how long that had been going on, I have recognized the jumping off space and I can recognize it just for what it stands for. "Make life easy for yourself girl and that I hope Im doing.

My days of riding off into the western sunset are through and though me and the wide open spaces are still good buddies, it's getting more and more difficult to find a place to hook on the Oxygen that make sure I get to the next corner, my family and friends I grew up with and got older with are in Tacoma and I know the neighborhoods So Im going home the end of Feb to an old lady's assissted living and see how much troublt can I get in there!

PS. The cleaning lady abscounded with my expensive putty and ignores me when he sees me. What's she got that I havent?