A Victory That Had Been On Ice

Thine eyes saw the glory on Thursday night.

From Jennifer Hudson's stirring rendition of the national anthem to Martin Luther King III’s powerful tribute to his dad on the 45th anniversary of Martin Luther King Jr.’s iconic “I Have a Dream” speech to the tremendous ovation Barack Obama received when he strolled onto the stage in front of more than 80,000 people on the closing night of the Democratic National Convention at Denver’s Invesco Field.

These same eyes, however, have seen 50 years of momentous events in America. But perhaps none were as significant and memorable as this one. It was, as Elder Bernice King said, “One of our nation’s greatest defining moments.”

All day long I had listened to the pundits go back-and-forth on what Obama would or should say as he accepted the nomination of his party for President of the United States. All day long I listened to various politicians, commentators and common people say that he needed to hit it out of the park if he wanted to close the gaps in the polls, unify his party and convince America that he had the ability to lead. I knew, however, that at the end of that long day, it really wouldn’t matter what he said.

You see, it’s already been said.

It was said in 1955 when Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat and Mamie Till insisted that the world see her murdered son’s mangled corpse.

It was said in ‘63 when Martin Luther King Jr. stood in the shadow of Abraham Lincoln and challenged America to dream.

It was said a month later when four young black girls died in the basement of the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, Ala., showing the world that America was not the great nation she purported to be.

It was said again in ‘65 at the Mt. Zion Baptist Church in suburban Cincinnati when Dr. King took my tiny 8-year-old hand in his and told me I could be anything I wanted to be.

It was said again on April 4, 1968 when Bobby Kennedy told America to chill out after King’s assassination; and when Shirley Chisholm became the first black woman elected to Congress that same year.

It was said by the defiant acts of Thurgood Marshall, Fannie Lou Hamer, Huey Newton, Bobby Seale, Malcolm X, Medgar Evers, Dorothy Height, John Lewis, John H. Johnson, Muhammad Ali, Nikki Giovanni, Angela Davis, Cesar Chavez, Barbara Jordan, Jesse Jackson, Tupac Shakur, Spike Lee, Al Sharpton, Dave Chappelle and countless others who sang “Yes, We Can,” long before will.i.am made it the national anthem for change.

Finally, it was said again on a cold, blistery day in 2007 when a dreamer stood on the steps of the state capitol in Springfield, Ill. and announced that he was running for President of the United States.

And again last night when that same dreamer said, “Enough. This moment, this election is our chance to keep in the 21st century the American promise alive…In defining moments like these the change doesn’t come from Washington, it comes to Washington.”

Barack Obama, the son of an absentee African sperm donor and a nurturing Caucasian mother, is simply riding the wave. Therefore, it really didn’t matter what he said on a balmy Thursday night in Denver. He’s just the anchor on the relay team. He’s picked up the baton and is racing toward the finish line.

I’m not saying that Obama doesn’t deserve his due because he most certainly does. What the 47-year-old senator from Illinois has accomplished in the past 19 months has been extraordinary, historic and evolutionary. I’m sure the ghosts of dreamers past are rejoicing in this moment.

This victory has been on ice for a very, very long time. My hope is that we can all bask in this moment despite our varying agendas and regardless of what was said or not said.

Celebrating accomplishment is at the very core of humanity. It rises above race, gender, political affiliation and one’s socio-economic status. As Americans we should just be proud that one of our own done good.

Obama’s speech might not have been as stirring or as lyrical or as prophetic or as inspiring as Dr. King’s was on that hot August night 45 years ago. It won’t be recited by generations of elementary school kids from Spokane to Silver Spring in dusty auditoriums, and it may not do anything to improve race relations or effect tangible change in this country.

On Friday morning there will still be folks who hate people who don’t look like them—just because.

It will, however, be remembered because it was delivered during this very special moment in time by a man who believes that he is truly his brother’s keeper; that these defining moments are not all about him. I believe from this point on that me, Obama and all the other dreamers,
past and present, will now be able to raise their collective voices and sing a new anthem.

“Yep, We Did.”

a new kind of addiction

i've really broken out of my box this week. i've actually shared my opinions about the upcoming presidential election in two columns and in nightly conversations with friends.

i've been so caught up with the democratic national convention coverage that wolf blitzer's voice is the last thing i hear when i fall asleep in the wee hours of the morning, and soledad o'brien's is the first one i hear hours later.

it's crazy.

i've been watching cnn 24/7 and i like it.

i love james carville's home-spun i-told-you-so wisdom. i dig suzanne malveaux's professionalism. that sister knows what she's doing and it shows. i admire the way donna brazile makes her points without raising her voice and i like the way anderson cooper just chimes in with his intriguing little anecdotes.

they all live up to their mantra as the best political team on television.

tonight is the last night of the dnc and i fear that i'm going to have some sort of separation anxiety when i have to go back to watching "soul food" reruns instead on bet j with all of those annoying penis enhancement commercials.

as if!!

of course, the best part of this new addiction has been watching history unfold in living color. as someone who is old enough to remember the post-jim crow camelot era, it's been thrilling to see a black man rise to this level. i'm part of a generation that grew up thinking a black man in the white house wasn't exactly impossible, but it was highly improbable.

the highlights for me this week included the tribute to teddy kennedy, a man i met once backstage at the kennedy center in d.c. i loved every second of michelle obama's speech. it wasn't about her making me proud to be a black woman--my mom, grandmother, great-grandmother myra, aunt hat and all the mcdonald women that came before them that i never knew, are responsible for that. i just dug that she kept it real. political speeches--such as the ones joe biden has been making--are so, so scripted, filled with all of that old school political rhetoric.

rah, rah, rah.

i think michelle must have written hers all by herself. she made it personal and no one else would have been able to record those emotions on paper.

isn't she lovely? indeed she is.

and billary, they did their thing. i never bought into bill being the first black president and i'm not sure i entirely trust their motives now, but i do give them credit for sucking it up and putting the party before their massive egos.

but more than anything else, i've enjoyed talking to my friends. they've seen a different side of me this week. i've been up for the debate. every night before or after the speeches i've been on the phone with bo, bren, charlene, mary, mary and darcea discussing what was said, dissing the republican responses and trashing that sister who was crying after hillary clinton's speech the other night. i've also been engaging in online chats with my facebook buddies.

all of this is highly unusual. for me, talking politics was akin to getting a root canal.

painful.

barack obama's candidacy hasn't made me more patriotic. i was one of those kids who refused to say the pledge of alligence and i still won't stand for the national anthem because the words don't resonate with me--at all. and i'll never wear a flag pin. but it has made me buy a few t-shirts and formulate some strong opinions about where we are as a nation--and where i think we're going once president obama is in the white house.

it's a start.

20 really cool things about getting older

it's been one of those weekends in which old friends have resurfaced--thanks to facebook--and older friends have reached out because my girlfriends and i are at that point in life when we know what we're doing but don't quite know what we want.

translation: your phone rings at 3 a.m. and before you know it, it's 6:30 a.m. and you still haven't gotten to the point.

making all the right moves in what is essentially the last half of your life cycle can be stressful at times, but there's still something incredibly liberating about reaching this milestone--even when you make stupid mistakes.

the recovery time is much quicker than when you were younger and even more stupid.

here are some of the reasons why:

1. you're more inclined to preface everything that comes out of your mouth with "wtf "or "at the end of the day..."
2. you aren't too vain to use those lovely aarp discounts at l.a.'s trendiest restaurants.
3. your eyes, rather than your mouth, become the windows of what's really going on inside of you--especially when you have to go there...
4. you can drop bombs of wisdom on younger folks, watch them roll their eyes and dismiss you, but it no longer bothers you because you've come to realize that they need to make their own mistakes and learn from them just like you did.
5. you no longer have to question authority because you are now the authority.
6. you no longer freak out when your man doesn't ring because you realize that life is getting even shorter so you are no longer sitting around waiting for him to do anything.
7. you have more in common with your girlfriends than ever before because you are all going through similar emotional and physical changes.
8. you really don't sweat the small stuff any more because it's like small.
9. you're more willing than ever to take risks.
10. you no longer allow yourself to be an "option" to anyone who doesn't really care about you, regardless of the way you feel about them.
11. honesty is no longer a novelty.
12. you no longer feel all that compelled to hide your toys.
13. you no longer care what people think about you're wearing.
14. you develop the strength of sampson because you have so much more to deal with.
15. you stop counting calories when it comes to a bottle of good wine.
16. you really begin to comprehend what the good times are all about.
17.getting older is the least of your worries--especially when you consider the alternative.
18. there's no more morning-after guilt.
19. you forgot to shave your legs and...? oh well!!
20. and the one question you always ask the fools you never suffered gladly--"and your point is?"

phew! that felt really good. c'mon monday. let's go!

photo credit: hot muddy fun in calistoga. who cares if you look like crap? wheeee!

issac: all is forgiven my brother

i've got to be honest. issac hayes was not one of my favorite entertainers growing up.

to be clear, it was nothing personal. i wouldn't meet him until later in life and he'd never really done anything to offend me. i had the "black moses" fold-out cross hanging up on my wall right next to my coveted jackson 5 photos.

my beef with hayes was rooted in my mother's obsessive musical tastes. once she liked something she played it to death. and it wasn't just hayes. i feel similarly about roberta flack and marvin gaye.

every morning for about six months she blasted his "black moses" lp while she was getting ready for work downstairs and i was trying to savor those last few zzzzs before getting ready for school upstairs.

it was years before i could listen to anything hayes recorded. i loved "shaft," but i used to pretend it wasn't him. besides the version we played in the wyoming high school marching band sounded more like "we are the champions" than hayes' oscar-winning track with the funky beats.

but today, after learning of hayes' death at his home in memphis, i grabbed my iphone and played "by the time i get to phoenix"--the duet he did with dionne warwick--again and again and again some more on my way to the virgin megastore in hollywood. and before the night's over, i will probably play it a couple more times.

love that track.

mom was understandably shaken when i rang her this afternoon with the news of hayes' death at age 65, but i think that lp is probably too warped by now to be played on the old dusty magnavox in the basement. oh but wait, that album is now in my possession!

oh well.

i only remember meeting hayes a few times. the first time was on the set of "girlfriends." he used to play jill marie jones' father and it was the day they were shooting her wedding out at a rented home in malibu. i was so busy talking to the girlfriends that i barely noticed hayes standing over in a corner by himself just chilling.

"black moses," i whispered to myself. at that point i wasn't really sure whether i wanted to throw him in the pool--redemption for all those years his voice woke me up prematurely--or embrace him for the genius he was. i wisely opted for the latter. he was nice, but kind of on the quiet side.

that old school cool. sexy.

my most vivid memory of him, however, is protesting his nomination for an naacp image award for his portrayal of chef on "south park." i was like, does anyone realize he's voicing a cartoon character and maybe shouldn't be up for best supporting actor in a comedy? well, that's what i wrote and my readers agreed. thankfully, he didn't win and was never nominated in that category again.

crazy.

i also remember that he was bald before it became bold and sexy and that he had a flair for wearing some outrageous stuff on stage. none of that mattered, really. the man could sing and play. the last time i saw him was shortly after his stroke and he had to be wheeled into the banquet room. as luck would have it, he was seated at my table. he was wearing african garb and was really, really friendly.

i think he was just happy to be there--anywhere.

like bernie mac, who reportedly passed away saturday morning (ironically, mac and hayes will appear together on screen in this fall's "soul men"), hayes' legacy will live on in cds, dvds and on whatever new media they come up with next. i'm thankful for that. i have a feeling that too much of hayes in the coming days will surely become a very, very good thing.

maybe i'll sync up my ipod/ihome alarm so that it plays "hot buttered soul" nice and low. that might be nice to wake up to.

so long you bad mutha... i wish you nothing but good mornings up above.

king bernie mac always

kept it real and original

the first time i met bernie mac i said, "what's up." he said, "chicken butt." from that point it was on with me and one of the original "kings of comedy."

in the ensuing years i would interview him at least a dozen times and it was always a pleasure. mac was always present in the moment, consistently dressed to impress and so eternally lively and engaging that i thought we'd be teasing each other for years to come. perhaps that's why after all the rumors of his death that surfaced earlier in the week, i thought i was dreaming when i actually heard that bernie mac had died. in fact, i had fallen asleep watching CNN early saturday morning and subconsciously picked up the tragic news.

and now mac is sleeping, too, at 50 years young.

the last time i saw mac i was interviewing him for his role in "pride," the true story about a black swim coach in philly who trained a championship team. mac played the gym janitor, a composite character. the thing i remember most about that interview is mac's claims that he really could do some damage in the water.

"i'm a SCUBA diver," mac said in a voice that made you want to half believe him. "i can go down to 60 feet and do some things."

talk about your double entendre.

later, his costar terrence howard said the only thing mac could do in the pool was jump in and "splash all the water out."

i also remember how healthy he looked despite the fact he was "just getting over something like pneumonia," he told me. there was a period when the chicago-born comic didn't look so good. toward the end of "the bernie mac show" run mac had developed a condition called sarcoidosis, a lung disease. his face was bloated and he'd gained a lot of weight, an apparent side effect of the meds he was on. he freely discussed the details of that disease with me during the press junket for "mr. 3000," a comedy about a retired baseball player who returns to the game to reach a career milestone. according to early reports that affliction, which had been in remission for three years, had nothing to do with his death this morning. mac apparently died from complications of pneumonia.

what I always most appreciated about mac as a performer was that he had the ability to elevate even the weakest material--if only for a second. he was able to hold his own in starring vehicles like "guess who?" and also in supporting roles in which he had very little to do like in the "ccean's" franchise. but it was his television show that gave his fans the greatest joy. from the moment he uttered, "I'm gonna beat them till the white meat shows," America finally had the first TV dad we could relate to since cliff huxtable.

and, on the real tip, bernie was far more real then mr. bill.

what i dug about him most as a person was the connection he was always able to establish with people from all walks of life. he was one of those celebrities who always made you feel like you were a cherished cousin he hadn't seen in a while. and, the brother could brag. according to mac he was the best at everything from cracking jawbreakers to playing hoops.

maybe he was.

mac will live on in reruns of his show and in his last film, the upcoming "soul men," a flick about an estranged duo who reunite at the apollo to pay homage to their recently deceased band director. i'm totally excited about the potential comic possibilities between Mac and his costar Samuel L. Jackson.

i'm just sorry i'll never have the opportunity to chat with him about it.

r.i.p. bernie mac.

allmylove,
chicken butt

imagine that

here we are
half a century old
thriving
surviving
grateful
planning
plotting
singing
dancing
hopeful
faithful
and embracing all of the challenges of today
and tomorrow on the corner of
gray cloud boulevard and sunshine parkway
so far, our lives have been pretty lively
maybe a little too much so at some points
so far, our lives have been fulfilling
maybe not as much as we would've liked at times
so far, we've outlived some of our
friends
former classmates
parents
siblings
teachers
preachers
boyfriends
and pet dogs
but did you ever imagine we'd ever get here?
i'm smiling at the thought of that
because my fondest memories of you include:
sleeping on your floor in moorings
friday night happy hours in roz's room
toiling in the booth at whov
stepping over howard's football pads
struggling through the uncertainties of post-hampton life
dancing to beats that only we could hear
and then finally realizing that:
stones are meant to be stepped over
obstacles, no matter how high can be hurdled
that there are, in fact, answers in the sea
and that sometimes you just have to
chill and be still
for it will come
in short, we've learned to wine and dine
as opposed to whine and dine
the more i think about the time we've already spent together
the more i love god for putting you in my life
thank you for being that willow
that shelter in the storm
happy birthday ms. thang
celebrate all of the possibilities on this day
and on all of the ones that follow
i look forward to 50 more years of memories
can you imagine?

top photo: (1980 on the steps of moorings hall) miki, paula stewart, charlene alexander, birthday girl brenda mallory and roz murray. we had gotten dressed up for church on our last sunday as undergrads but the memorial chapel was closed!
bottom photo: (2006 at croaker's spot in richmond, va) miki, charlene and brenda talking to roz on the celly

party over here, party over there
and right down the hall

i've never been one of the party people per se--even when i was in college and it was considered socially irresponsible not to get your groove on whenever and wherever possible. me, my gurls used to have to drag me out to the wednesday night groove parties off-campus or to some jam at the officer's club at ft. eustis.

given a choice of staying in my room and chilling in front of my 13-inch black-and-white tv with my sweats on, or getting dressed up, heating up the curling iron and putting on uncomfortable shoes so that i could look "cute," i' was all for staying in the room.

crazy thing is, once i got to the party--kicking and screaming--i inevitably became the life of it. go figure.

truthfully, after receiving the news of a cousin's death and word that another friend was awaiting the results of a biopsy, i would have liked to have stayed in my room tonight, too. but that was in no way possible.

my production partner and i were hosting a fund-raising reception for our documentary on girls and gangs at the lucy florence coffee house in leimert park and i certainly had to be there. it was a wonderful event that brought out community leaders with deep pockets, a few celebs and some other folks who had been adversely affected by gang violence. we raised a lot of money, folks got their grub on, people responded positively to the screening and best of all my feet held up.

it was a very, very good night.

after the reception my friend jackie and i headed north on crenshaw to attend a "divine 9" party at the kappa house. for those of you who don't know, "divine 9" refers to the nine black greek organizations--alpha kappa alpha, delta sigma theta, zeta phi beta, omega psi phi, kappa alpha psi, alpha phi alpha, phi beta sigma, sigma gamma rho and iota phi beta.

jackie and i kind of knew what to expect when we entered the building because when you get to be our age and live in l.a., you always ring someone already at the party so that you can determine whether it's worth your while--even if it is on your way home. our friend herbert had been there for two hours when jackie called him to check on the scene. he reported that there were a lot of women--akas to be specific.

he was right. there was a room full of women doing the electric slide when we strolled in. the only men i initially saw were some old school kappas behind the bar. but the longer we lingered the more interesting it became. since my boy and his boy were running late jackie and i stepped outside to peruse the patio area.

bingo.

there was tons of eye candy--mostly kappas--and jackie and i didn't even care that most of them looked like the ink on their college degrees was still wet.

well, i didn't care.

my motto has always been: teach a child in the way you would have him go and he'll never depart those ways. but with my boy and his boy on the way, i restrained myself from opening up my very own magnet pre-school.

once my boy and his boy got there my feet and back were on orange alert. it was only a matter of time before i'd self-destruct. so after participating in a few line dances and doin' da butt, i was ready to call it a night.

a funny thing happened, however, once i parked the ragtop in my garage. the woman down the hall from me had left a note on the door inviting the other five occupants in my building to her birthday party. although kate (whose surname i don't know) and i had lived less than 20 feet from each other for nearly two years, the only things i knew about her was her name and that she was an obama supporter.

when i walked into her flat it looked like i was crashing a un meeting in session. there were white people, brown people, black people and some who were a mixture of all three. kate greeted me warmly with a hug--even though we had never said more than "hello" to each other in passing and introduced me to all of her cool friends. i spent the most time with patrick and eric. pat was from nigeria and eric hailed from senegal. both were really engaging and funny.

when she wasn't tied up in some seemingly deep conversation with one of her friends, kate and i had a brief introductory conversation. i found out that she was a school principal, had gone to tufts and harvard and that she was in the process of looking for a house. i also had some pretty enlightening conversations with others about politics, the l.a. dating scene and public education.

it was a very, very cool gathering and i'm so glad i came out of my room tonight. i wasn't the life of any of the three soirees i attended on friday, but i certainly felt very alive.