During this year's presidential parade of candidates, I must confess I sometimes didn't listen to the speeches. I watched the crowd. Fascinating!
At first I searched for and counted faces of color. Then I studied concentration, to see if they were there just to be there or actually followed the cadence of their candidate. Sometimes small groups would waver or shutter like grass in the middle of an otherwise still crowd.
But then, I noticed something really different: almost every person has their own way of clapping.
Back in my teen years, I deliberately decided to clap with my hands slightly cupped and crisscrossed in order to produce a louder sound. Nobody else on the planet probably intentionally stylized how they would clap their hands besides me but I experimented until I got the right sound. Now, it's second nature to me and hasn't changed in 40 years.
But there, during somebody's rally, I watched and counted about eight different ways people clap. There may have been more but I started being creeped out watching other people so I stopped, but here are some examples:
*one woman lightly, daintily tapped her hands together like she wanted to participate but didn't want to offend
*one man almost seemed to be wristwrestling with himself as he pulled back his right elbow and repeatedly jammed one palm into the other as if to punish his exuberance
*another woman clapped her hands together as though they were cymbals, complete with retreating circles
*another kept her hands in close proximity and clapped vigorously like a speedy game of Patty Cake
There are more but I have to look away now, except to say I wonder if people's clapping styles mimic the way they live their lives....
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
God in a card game
The title seems a little crazy but let me explain.
I've been having problems with my not-so high speed Internet access so I've developed a passion for the game FreeCell, one of those innocuous games that comes with Windows.
So I've been playing and playing and improving with each "hand" that's "dealt." It's a fun version of solitaire, in case you haven't played it. Anyway, I finally figured out that the object of the game is not just to get all the cards off the board. The object is to free all the aces first.
In my life, God is my ace. In the middle of sorting through my life, I realized that they best way to get a true path to satisfaction is to put Him first like I put getting the aces out first in FreeCell. Sometimes I'm not successful but I found out through trial and error that you can't win the game, you can't finish it, without having revealed all the aces and putting them in their rightful place. The other cards can go anywhere on the board but they can't come off the board before the ace in their suit does.
So I've decided to play my life like a game of solitaire: I'm the one who controls the cards but I know if I don't follow the correct steps, I won't win. The path is there; I just have to envision it and follow it to its conclusion and my success.
Who knew I could find His plan in a simple card game?
I've been having problems with my not-so high speed Internet access so I've developed a passion for the game FreeCell, one of those innocuous games that comes with Windows.
So I've been playing and playing and improving with each "hand" that's "dealt." It's a fun version of solitaire, in case you haven't played it. Anyway, I finally figured out that the object of the game is not just to get all the cards off the board. The object is to free all the aces first.
In my life, God is my ace. In the middle of sorting through my life, I realized that they best way to get a true path to satisfaction is to put Him first like I put getting the aces out first in FreeCell. Sometimes I'm not successful but I found out through trial and error that you can't win the game, you can't finish it, without having revealed all the aces and putting them in their rightful place. The other cards can go anywhere on the board but they can't come off the board before the ace in their suit does.
So I've decided to play my life like a game of solitaire: I'm the one who controls the cards but I know if I don't follow the correct steps, I won't win. The path is there; I just have to envision it and follow it to its conclusion and my success.
Who knew I could find His plan in a simple card game?
Pamela and Barack
It was like Christmas morning last night. My oldest sister Pam called me late last night to tell me of the experience of being at an Obama rally.
My other sisters know Pam has never been the least bit interested in politics before this year. This year, she is a volunteer for a presidential campaign. She sounded surprised when I told her how proud I was of her getting out of her 28th floor Detroit apartment and doing her part for the country.
Silly me, I was concerned Sunday when I couldn't reach her on the phone. Later that evening, she called to tell me she spent the day blowing up beach balls and counseling others on signmaking. She sounded totally invigorated describing the scene of people rushing around and smiling, working on a common cause.
During the network broadcast Monday night, I thought I saw her in the crowd clutching and feverishly waving an American flag, something else I'd never seen her do. She said she would try to get to the seats behind the stage so we could see her. Turned out it wasn't her but I knew Pam would have a great night, on or off camera.
And she did. Pam, or Tee as we call her, stood in the volunteer area before the rally admiring the physique of a tall man.
"He had his hands in his pants pockets so you could see the muscles in his thighs," she said wistfully. Being a fan of goodbodies, I totally appreciated her report.
And then he turned around.
It was Chauncey Billups of the Detroit Pistons standing no more than 7 feet in front of her.
Was this heaven?
Then the crowd erupted and she turned to see if Sen. Obama had arrived. He had, and made his way through the crowd to shake her hand. Okay, not exactly but that's how it felt to her. He walked up, shook her hand with both of hers and said something her brain registered as English but she has no idea what he said. She offered her Audacity of Hope book to him ... and he signed it.
And there she stood, absorbing the reality of it all. Never cared about politics, never been to a rally from the inside, never met an actual candidate and there she was, staring at the first candidate of color who was actually charted to accept his party's nomination to become president of the United States.
She was so wafted away by the events of the day she missed her stop on the People Mover tram to take her back home. A group of women chattered near her about what they had gathered from the experience. Tee blew them away when she showed them her autographed book. I would have been afraid I'd get robbed of something so valuable but I think she would have snapped necks last night to keep that book.
Oh yeah. She also happily reported that Al Gore is even more devastatingly handsome than she thought.
"He is NOT fat," she insisted. "That man is foine."
We both laughed but I was pleased that she had finally brought something into her life that made her feel alive after a tumultuous one turned her against reaching out to others. She was laughing, she was exuberant, she was the excited big sister I remember being jealous of when we were kids because her 6-year advantage gave her experiences I could only hope for.
Damn if she didn't have another one....
My other sisters know Pam has never been the least bit interested in politics before this year. This year, she is a volunteer for a presidential campaign. She sounded surprised when I told her how proud I was of her getting out of her 28th floor Detroit apartment and doing her part for the country.
Silly me, I was concerned Sunday when I couldn't reach her on the phone. Later that evening, she called to tell me she spent the day blowing up beach balls and counseling others on signmaking. She sounded totally invigorated describing the scene of people rushing around and smiling, working on a common cause.
During the network broadcast Monday night, I thought I saw her in the crowd clutching and feverishly waving an American flag, something else I'd never seen her do. She said she would try to get to the seats behind the stage so we could see her. Turned out it wasn't her but I knew Pam would have a great night, on or off camera.
And she did. Pam, or Tee as we call her, stood in the volunteer area before the rally admiring the physique of a tall man.
"He had his hands in his pants pockets so you could see the muscles in his thighs," she said wistfully. Being a fan of goodbodies, I totally appreciated her report.
And then he turned around.
It was Chauncey Billups of the Detroit Pistons standing no more than 7 feet in front of her.
Was this heaven?
Then the crowd erupted and she turned to see if Sen. Obama had arrived. He had, and made his way through the crowd to shake her hand. Okay, not exactly but that's how it felt to her. He walked up, shook her hand with both of hers and said something her brain registered as English but she has no idea what he said. She offered her Audacity of Hope book to him ... and he signed it.
And there she stood, absorbing the reality of it all. Never cared about politics, never been to a rally from the inside, never met an actual candidate and there she was, staring at the first candidate of color who was actually charted to accept his party's nomination to become president of the United States.
She was so wafted away by the events of the day she missed her stop on the People Mover tram to take her back home. A group of women chattered near her about what they had gathered from the experience. Tee blew them away when she showed them her autographed book. I would have been afraid I'd get robbed of something so valuable but I think she would have snapped necks last night to keep that book.
Oh yeah. She also happily reported that Al Gore is even more devastatingly handsome than she thought.
"He is NOT fat," she insisted. "That man is foine."
We both laughed but I was pleased that she had finally brought something into her life that made her feel alive after a tumultuous one turned her against reaching out to others. She was laughing, she was exuberant, she was the excited big sister I remember being jealous of when we were kids because her 6-year advantage gave her experiences I could only hope for.
Damn if she didn't have another one....
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
To spank or not to spank
One of the things I still get to enjoy while waiting for employment to get back to me is listening online to Al Sharpton's radio show. It's always good to hear other's opinions in response to the topics of the day. Today's "hot button topic" was corporal punishment.
The Rev. wondered whether current gang activity was related to the fact that there wasn't enough whippins, beatings or out-and-out non-sparing of the rod. Some callers agreed with him. I did not.
The sporatic forms of spankings my children received in their early years were handshakes compared to the skin-splitting reprimands my mother gave to me. While my now-ex believed in
it like a Sunday drive, I couldn't get the flashbacks out of my head when I tried to follow his rule.
"I got beat and I turned out fine," he'd say. Fine is such a relative term...
Anyway, I think I only touched my kids violently maybe twice each, mainly 'cause I lost the stomach for it and challenged my now-ex to not hit/spank/pop them again.
I instead concentrated on letting them know I respected them and anything they did wrong was their decision, that I would be disappointed if they did wrong and certain coveted things from their well-appointed rooms would disappear as punishment.
After a while, they would come to me in tears to tell me of my latest reason to be disappointed in them. And I showed them great disappointment with about 30 minutes of lecture. It was agony for them because I laid it on thick.
And I think that's what's missing from the psyche of today's kids: nobody respects them. Even the best-paid parents will try to buy their children's love with nothing but material things in return. You can't get a hug from an iPod, can't get a smile from a $200 pair of sneakers.
A wise woman (Toni Morrison, I think) once said kids want to see their parents eyes light up when they come into a room. Instead, some get ignored, some get cursory acknowledgement, some get 50 questions on what they did wrong and some get the snot slapped out of them because they still look like the absent parent. They don't get called on at school (unless they don't know the answer), don't get the choice benefit from a teacher, get snarls and sneers at the store, police drive by slower (and sometimes just park and stare). And these are the middle class kids. I'm sure the ones who live in the socially cordoned areas get worse.
In the July issue of Ebony, Judge Greg Mathis talks about the history of white t-shirts and butt-hugging, too big pants on many of today's youth across the racial color wheel. He compares it to the way men in prison dress out of necessity, not style. Actually, the mental pen today's young males are trapped in resembles the real pen: penitentiary. Why not dress the part when onlookers treat them like criminals in waiting?
That defensive posture tells me they've already accepted the fate of getting swept up in the netting of penal inevitability. A self-fulfilling prophecy.
When I see a male walking around in oversized clothes, especially shirts with broad stripes, I wonder what their relationship with their father is. Does dad dress like that? Chances are, if they can readily point to their father, dad is as straight-laced as his dad was. And dad has either decided or is deathly fearful for his son's maturity in freedom. So he leans on him extra hard and for a teenager, that's not a good tactic for a rebel to comply. They stay at constant odds and love, tactile love, goes right out the window.
To me, they look like big boys with little hearts, looking for acceptance and affection from people who don't want anything but the best from them. And I pray for us all...
The Rev. wondered whether current gang activity was related to the fact that there wasn't enough whippins, beatings or out-and-out non-sparing of the rod. Some callers agreed with him. I did not.
The sporatic forms of spankings my children received in their early years were handshakes compared to the skin-splitting reprimands my mother gave to me. While my now-ex believed in
it like a Sunday drive, I couldn't get the flashbacks out of my head when I tried to follow his rule.
"I got beat and I turned out fine," he'd say. Fine is such a relative term...
Anyway, I think I only touched my kids violently maybe twice each, mainly 'cause I lost the stomach for it and challenged my now-ex to not hit/spank/pop them again.
I instead concentrated on letting them know I respected them and anything they did wrong was their decision, that I would be disappointed if they did wrong and certain coveted things from their well-appointed rooms would disappear as punishment.
After a while, they would come to me in tears to tell me of my latest reason to be disappointed in them. And I showed them great disappointment with about 30 minutes of lecture. It was agony for them because I laid it on thick.
And I think that's what's missing from the psyche of today's kids: nobody respects them. Even the best-paid parents will try to buy their children's love with nothing but material things in return. You can't get a hug from an iPod, can't get a smile from a $200 pair of sneakers.
A wise woman (Toni Morrison, I think) once said kids want to see their parents eyes light up when they come into a room. Instead, some get ignored, some get cursory acknowledgement, some get 50 questions on what they did wrong and some get the snot slapped out of them because they still look like the absent parent. They don't get called on at school (unless they don't know the answer), don't get the choice benefit from a teacher, get snarls and sneers at the store, police drive by slower (and sometimes just park and stare). And these are the middle class kids. I'm sure the ones who live in the socially cordoned areas get worse.
In the July issue of Ebony, Judge Greg Mathis talks about the history of white t-shirts and butt-hugging, too big pants on many of today's youth across the racial color wheel. He compares it to the way men in prison dress out of necessity, not style. Actually, the mental pen today's young males are trapped in resembles the real pen: penitentiary. Why not dress the part when onlookers treat them like criminals in waiting?
That defensive posture tells me they've already accepted the fate of getting swept up in the netting of penal inevitability. A self-fulfilling prophecy.
When I see a male walking around in oversized clothes, especially shirts with broad stripes, I wonder what their relationship with their father is. Does dad dress like that? Chances are, if they can readily point to their father, dad is as straight-laced as his dad was. And dad has either decided or is deathly fearful for his son's maturity in freedom. So he leans on him extra hard and for a teenager, that's not a good tactic for a rebel to comply. They stay at constant odds and love, tactile love, goes right out the window.
To me, they look like big boys with little hearts, looking for acceptance and affection from people who don't want anything but the best from them. And I pray for us all...
Friday, May 30, 2008
Asleep at the keyboard
The chatter is still reverberating on the new book by Scott McClellan, Bush's former press secretary. The funniest chatter to me is the identical use of the word "puzzling" as the official White House response. Everybody's puzzled that McClellan, who probably was more interested in the health and well-being of his family than lapping at the trough of mindspeak, never verbally dissented while holding his job.
Hello? Is it possible that even if he had outed the administration for the Plame episode, he would have been quietly "resigned" from his job in retribution? Anybody who's worked in a hostile environment knows how impossible it is to trust anybody to secret your concerns.
There are also-whines who are complaining the media was effective during the march to war. On this, I get the willies on the realization that I agree with Katie Couric. When asked, she admitted we got beaten with the American flag for even suggesting the rush was too rushed.
Even though the McClatchy newspapers was screaming from their pages, the powers that be either were afraid to agree or decided it was beneath them to admit a smaller chain was outprying them on examining the administration's goals.
Back in 2005, Newsweek ran with the words of a "unidentified American government official who had incomplete knowledge of the situation" that a copy of the Koran had been flushed down a toilet in Guantanamo Bay. Of course, the recent report of a soldier using the Koran for target practice was as loudly rejected...until it it was confirmed. I still believe Newsweek's retraction signaled to media to lay off looking deeper into the war or risk being called unpatriotic.
Now McClellan's speaking out loud in clear, measured, knowledgable tones that we were all unwitting soldiers marching off to war, not only as fearful volunteers but unpaid ones as well. We gave up our children, spouses and lovers in sacrifice to the campaign of spreading democracy all over the Middle East. Never mind we took over the wrong playground for the wrong reasons and threw the key over the fence so we can't get out gracefully. My only nagging thought is if McClellan talked to Fitzgerald about this, how did Cheney escape prosecution?
If I had a job, I'd buy McClellan's book to read about what nuggets haven't been pulled out yet. But I give him ceremonial cojones for leaving and writing what he knew for the sake of history.
Even whistleblower John Dean says this administration's deeds are "worse than Watergate."
Thanks, Scott. Time will reveal you did the right thing and you can sit on my porch since Bush's invitation on your resignation is probably a no-go now....
Hello? Is it possible that even if he had outed the administration for the Plame episode, he would have been quietly "resigned" from his job in retribution? Anybody who's worked in a hostile environment knows how impossible it is to trust anybody to secret your concerns.
There are also-whines who are complaining the media was effective during the march to war. On this, I get the willies on the realization that I agree with Katie Couric. When asked, she admitted we got beaten with the American flag for even suggesting the rush was too rushed.
Even though the McClatchy newspapers was screaming from their pages, the powers that be either were afraid to agree or decided it was beneath them to admit a smaller chain was outprying them on examining the administration's goals.
Back in 2005, Newsweek ran with the words of a "unidentified American government official who had incomplete knowledge of the situation" that a copy of the Koran had been flushed down a toilet in Guantanamo Bay. Of course, the recent report of a soldier using the Koran for target practice was as loudly rejected...until it it was confirmed. I still believe Newsweek's retraction signaled to media to lay off looking deeper into the war or risk being called unpatriotic.
Now McClellan's speaking out loud in clear, measured, knowledgable tones that we were all unwitting soldiers marching off to war, not only as fearful volunteers but unpaid ones as well. We gave up our children, spouses and lovers in sacrifice to the campaign of spreading democracy all over the Middle East. Never mind we took over the wrong playground for the wrong reasons and threw the key over the fence so we can't get out gracefully. My only nagging thought is if McClellan talked to Fitzgerald about this, how did Cheney escape prosecution?
If I had a job, I'd buy McClellan's book to read about what nuggets haven't been pulled out yet. But I give him ceremonial cojones for leaving and writing what he knew for the sake of history.
Even whistleblower John Dean says this administration's deeds are "worse than Watergate."
Thanks, Scott. Time will reveal you did the right thing and you can sit on my porch since Bush's invitation on your resignation is probably a no-go now....
Friday, May 23, 2008
Manchurian Candidate redux?
Wow.
If you read my earlier post on the subject, I was willing to offer a historic exit strategy to the Clinton campaign based on her ground-breaking run for the White House.
I had suggested she turn the moment into a clarion call for those women behind her who would dare to follow her path to electability. Lay the campaign gently down with class, grace and intelligence.
Today, she turned history on its ear. And ripped that ear off in a fashion worse than Mike Tyson did to Evander Holyfield.
In the same week Sen. Edward Kennedy was diagnosed with a brain tumor, the same week one newspaper illustrated Sen. Obama in the crosshairs of a rifle, Sen. Clinton evoked the image of the assassination of Sen. Robert Kennedy in a meager attempt to justify her continuing vault-over-reason campaign.
While commentator Keith Olbermann, among others, drew a line from the inference of an assassination from her mouth to Sen. Obama, I see a different line that should make white folks, even the hard-working ones, seethe.
In the dark recesses of her mind, is she counting on the possibility that some white person will attempt to take out her rival? Does she think whites are so base as to automatically resort to violence between now and January? Does she think so little of the people she claims to be a part of that she believes someone weak enough to cast a death threat will be crazy enough to carry it out?
With the exception of the two Puerto Rican nationals who tried to kill Pres. Harry S Truman in 1950 and the Palestinian convicted for killing RFK, all successful and would-be assassins have been white. And two were women. But in this election, Sen. Obama has been lifted almost to the ring of candidacy by white voters. They supported them even when blacks looked askance at his racial intent.
Were I a white American, I would be most offended that Sen. Clinton would assume that history would have to repeat itself as it did in June 1968.
Is this some sort of Manchurian Candidate-type chant to change the direction of inevitability? Does she agree with Mike Huckabee that violence gets a vote on deciding who the next president will be? Even women who have "drank her Kool-Aid" are now wondering if there was more than sugar in the mix.
The worst part of this is she never apologized. She "regretted" but never apologized. That's like "if I offended anyone, I apologize" as if the fact you have to say it doesn't mean you must have offended somebody.
Even if she blames it on fatigue, the President of the United States will be more fatigued than enduring a campaign. Do we want someone as a world leader to fall off the tact wagon so easily?
To borrow from Al Gore, "it's time for you to go," Hillary. And sleep well because your days are about to get longer...
If you read my earlier post on the subject, I was willing to offer a historic exit strategy to the Clinton campaign based on her ground-breaking run for the White House.
I had suggested she turn the moment into a clarion call for those women behind her who would dare to follow her path to electability. Lay the campaign gently down with class, grace and intelligence.
Today, she turned history on its ear. And ripped that ear off in a fashion worse than Mike Tyson did to Evander Holyfield.
In the same week Sen. Edward Kennedy was diagnosed with a brain tumor, the same week one newspaper illustrated Sen. Obama in the crosshairs of a rifle, Sen. Clinton evoked the image of the assassination of Sen. Robert Kennedy in a meager attempt to justify her continuing vault-over-reason campaign.
While commentator Keith Olbermann, among others, drew a line from the inference of an assassination from her mouth to Sen. Obama, I see a different line that should make white folks, even the hard-working ones, seethe.
In the dark recesses of her mind, is she counting on the possibility that some white person will attempt to take out her rival? Does she think whites are so base as to automatically resort to violence between now and January? Does she think so little of the people she claims to be a part of that she believes someone weak enough to cast a death threat will be crazy enough to carry it out?
With the exception of the two Puerto Rican nationals who tried to kill Pres. Harry S Truman in 1950 and the Palestinian convicted for killing RFK, all successful and would-be assassins have been white. And two were women. But in this election, Sen. Obama has been lifted almost to the ring of candidacy by white voters. They supported them even when blacks looked askance at his racial intent.
Were I a white American, I would be most offended that Sen. Clinton would assume that history would have to repeat itself as it did in June 1968.
Is this some sort of Manchurian Candidate-type chant to change the direction of inevitability? Does she agree with Mike Huckabee that violence gets a vote on deciding who the next president will be? Even women who have "drank her Kool-Aid" are now wondering if there was more than sugar in the mix.
The worst part of this is she never apologized. She "regretted" but never apologized. That's like "if I offended anyone, I apologize" as if the fact you have to say it doesn't mean you must have offended somebody.
Even if she blames it on fatigue, the President of the United States will be more fatigued than enduring a campaign. Do we want someone as a world leader to fall off the tact wagon so easily?
To borrow from Al Gore, "it's time for you to go," Hillary. And sleep well because your days are about to get longer...
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Oh no, not the gender card again
A friend recently wrote on another website that Hillary's supporters, like Geraldine Ferraro, are mad because they believe the media's in Obama's pocket and everybody is sexist.
Mad ain't the word. This is like the feeling you get when you get beat in chess. You know in chess you always have to think several moves ahead to make sure you position your men in the best possible stance to win.
Obama beat Clinton in a political chess game with a move she never saw coming. And the best post-mortem she can come up with is that he and his crew are all sexist. The w(h)ine doesn't match the meal.
If Ferraro and the others supported Clinton purely because she is a woman, they sold her shorter than she sold herself. She wanted to run on her husband's past, they wanted her to run on a historical first. Didn't matter what she stood for. She should advance because she's a woman, the first to bring pockets and baggage with her for the race.
They're making feminists like me look bad as they go all wonky over the math not adding up for her.
I would not and have not ever voted for any woman just because she's a woman. I've been screwed over more by women than men in my life and I'm straight. And for the record, I'm not favoring Obama because he's black like me (although we both had white grandmothers). I looked over both candidate's platforms and his lined up with what I believe this country needs, although theirs are very similar.
Funny Ferraro and the others aren't calling the other candidates who've dropped out sexists for abandoning her fight against Obama.
This "sexist" cry is almost as annoying to me as the "white working-class" argument. And as my older sister said, "doesn't everybody work? Why do they call it working-class?" Of course, she also wants to know why we can get a list of superdelegates but not members of the electoral college. I can't answer that one, Pam...
Mad ain't the word. This is like the feeling you get when you get beat in chess. You know in chess you always have to think several moves ahead to make sure you position your men in the best possible stance to win.
Obama beat Clinton in a political chess game with a move she never saw coming. And the best post-mortem she can come up with is that he and his crew are all sexist. The w(h)ine doesn't match the meal.
If Ferraro and the others supported Clinton purely because she is a woman, they sold her shorter than she sold herself. She wanted to run on her husband's past, they wanted her to run on a historical first. Didn't matter what she stood for. She should advance because she's a woman, the first to bring pockets and baggage with her for the race.
They're making feminists like me look bad as they go all wonky over the math not adding up for her.
I would not and have not ever voted for any woman just because she's a woman. I've been screwed over more by women than men in my life and I'm straight. And for the record, I'm not favoring Obama because he's black like me (although we both had white grandmothers). I looked over both candidate's platforms and his lined up with what I believe this country needs, although theirs are very similar.
Funny Ferraro and the others aren't calling the other candidates who've dropped out sexists for abandoning her fight against Obama.
This "sexist" cry is almost as annoying to me as the "white working-class" argument. And as my older sister said, "doesn't everybody work? Why do they call it working-class?" Of course, she also wants to know why we can get a list of superdelegates but not members of the electoral college. I can't answer that one, Pam...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)