a couple of days in her presence

"Just before Eartha Kitt steps on stage tonight at Hollywood's Roosevelt Hotel Cinegrill, Eartha Mae will be waiting in the wings with a nervous stomach."Don't laugh. I'm a terribly shy, terribly inward person. It's rejection. I'm always afraid of rejection. I'll be all glamorous and vomiting." That's our Eartha Mae. Eartha Mae is the force inside Eartha Kitt. It was Eartha Mae,..." Miki Turner, The Orange County Register, July 26, 1995

in the summer of '95 i had just wrapped up my first season of covering the los angeles lakers and clippers for the orange county register and needed a challenge. i found out eartha kitt was playing at the cinegrill club inside hollywood's historic roosevelt hotel, and decided it was time i crossed the aisle--again.

i went over to the features department and pitched a story on kitt to cary darling--a guy who really lives up to his name--and he agreed, but said to keep it short.

when i arrived at the roosevelt on that warm july day, i was told to go to suite 501.

i rang the bell.

kitt's manager, an older guy with an abundance of charm, opened the door. sitting on the floor about 10 feet behind him was a really old woman wearing a terry cloth robe with a scarf around her head. i was just about to ask where miss kitt was when the woman's eyes locked in on my own.

deep.

initially, i thought that the old woman on the floor speaking french to two white french poodles was eartha kitt. but as she got up to greet me, i soon realized i was speaking with eartha kitt's alter ego eartha mae, kitt's real name. i wouldn't meet eartha kitt until later that night at the club.

although kitt was best known for her sultry ballads, sex kitten persona and putting all four letters into the term "diva," eartha mae, who died today at 81 from colon cancer, was quite an animated character herself. during the hour or so i was with her we discussed a plethora of topics including the civil rights movement, that altercation she had with lady bird johnson, her daughter, her mens, race, playing catwoman, "santa baby," her dogs, growing up in the south, the ghosts of divas past and what had kept her motivated after all those years in the biz.

she was uniquely intriguing. and how ironic it is that the woman who cooed her way through the eternally sultry and seductive "santa baby" would pass on christmas day. that sister always knew how to make an entrance--and an exit.

i think the two of us connected because she realized i had done my homework and because i was really interested in her stories. there was no time limit on our interview, but whenever you're dealing with divas it's best not to waste their time with stupid or redundant questions. eartha mae seemed relieved to have an opportunity to reflect on the past--hers and eartha kitt's.

some of it was good, some of it was bad, some of it was ugly.

it was as though we were up in an attic going through old trunks. i was thrilled to help her sort through all of her baggage.

most of what was said that afternoon never made it into the paper. cary was gracious enough to give me some space in the register's weekly entertainment tab, but it was barely enough to say anything other than eartha kitt is playing the cinegrill. come. enjoy.

as i left her suite that day i told her i had just bought her latest cd and that i played her version of "moon river" every morning. she seemed stunned.

"You do?" she said softly. "thank you. thank you very much."

maybe the fact that i was actually listening to her music was some kind of validation for a performer in the twilight of her career. at thirtysomething i probably didn't fit the profile of the typical eartha kitt fan. later that night i realized i truly wasn't.

the cinegrill was filled with a lot of people who didn't look like me but i ended up bonding with a couple of guys from we-ho (west hollywood) who were seated at my table. these dudes could have been kitt's official biographers. they had books, album covers and all kinds of paraphernalia. they were positively giddy. also in the audience that night was ann miller--old hollywood royalty; and two-hit wonder freda payne, a delightful woman.

when the band started playing i was a little taken aback by eartha mae's transformation into eartha kitt. it was as if someone had clicked their heels three times and poof! the scarf had been replaced with a wig, the robe with a sequined gown and eartha mae now looked about 20 years younger in the proper lighting. it was a terrific show. kitt sang, purred, made a few jokes, acknowledged the celebs, interacted with a few fans and wrapped it up. afterwards i met up with her as she was taking photos with miller and payne. i have one of those shots.

i was so impressed with her show that i made arrangements with her manager to come back the next night with a girlfriend. when i tell you that i saw the same exact show i had seen the night before i am not exaggerating. it was like precision clockwork down to the questions she asked the audience. the only thing she did differently on that second night was smile when she spotted me at my table.

after that show we met again briefly. she grabbed my hand and said that she had loved the article i'd written. i hadn't been that happy with it--only because it was so short--but i was thrilled that she had validated my efforts.

i never saw either eartha again after that night. but when people ask me who are some of the coolest people i've interviewed, she's always at the top of the list. the time i spent with eartha kitt was memorable because she introduced me to eartha mae, a person not everyone got an opportunity to meet.

looking back

in the bible eight is the number of new beginnings so at the start of '08 i was looking forward to a great year.

it was.

despite all the challenges, the pain of losing loved ones and absorbing the pain of others as they struggled, i can't and won't complain about what went down in '08.

sure, i could have made more money but i'd trade it all just to see that little zulu boy in durban smile at me again, or hear the laughter of the kids i met in soweto.

priceless.

i could have worked harder, but if it meant having to miss spending precious moments with my folks i would have said no to an opportunity to shoot with annie leibowitz.

i could have prayed more and will do as the year winds down, but i'm thankful for the blessing of life, the love of my family and friends and for the $10.99 bottle of marquez de caceras at trader joe's.

i'm not one for resolutions really but i will enter '09 with a lot more clarity. i have what i need so now it's time to go after what is there for the taking.

the best of '08

travels: south africa, london, turks & caicos, tobago, toronto, new york
music: i was particularly fond of songs by alice smith, benjamin dube, the west angeles mass choir, beyonce, heart, amy winehouse, coldplay, keb 'mo and many others
tv: mad men, the l word, private practice, ugly betty, entourage, gossip girl, lincoln heights, cnn's situation room, unsung
movies: dark knight, the duchess, tropic thunder, notorious, secret life of bees, slumdog millionaire, rachel getting married, the boy in the striped pajamas, pineapple express, step brothers
worst: seven pounds, quantum of solace, the women, meet the browns, it's a great time to be black and sexy, cover, zohan
books: (unfortunately i didn't read a lot--no time) the legs are the first to go, passing for black, the last lecture
purchases: a big ass fan, a nikon lens, the felecity box dvd set, some custom jewelry in barbados, asics, computer bag on wheels, oakley specs, wine cooler, gps
worst purchases: a small ass fan
the jury's still out: iphone
best times: road trip with gaby, my birthday dinner in oakland, safari in south africa, reconnecting with old friends on facebook, dinners with cm in nyc, lunches with rrr in l.a., happy hours with jacks at kado, diving in tobago, dining in turks, exploring london, late-night calls with mam, surprise calls from jew and hanging with dd, the tremendous support i recieved from bl and btr, election night, giants' super bowl win
worst times: dad in rehab, mom's surgery, the deaths of pancrazio, nancy maynard, big frank and mr. white, the break-ups, gaining weight, hot flashes, any time i had to spend in vegas, new year's eve, severing ties with the doc crew, megabus, pappy's cancer
best interviews: james franco, kevin smith, rod lurie, rosario dawson, joe the tour bus driver in johannesburg, annie hathaway, colin farrell, taraji p. henson, nicki micheaux, sanaa lathan, kathleen mcghee-anderson, angela bassett/faith evans and my dad
restaurants: m cafe, kado, thai market, red bamboo, electric korma, taco loco, pink, ago, zen garden
best move: letting go and letting god and learning final cut

season's greetings

as many of you know i write and produce content for the entertainment and sports industries for a living. i try hard to relate to the peeps i cover, but as we all know that's very difficult considering we aren't exactly in the same tax bracket. that said, i discovered the one way in which i can connect to those whose every little movement we chronicle with mindless minute-by-minute updates.

i could, like angelina, madonna, meg ryan and countless others, adopt some kids from an impoverished third-world country.

since the aforementioned celebrities have already "taken" just about every available and unavailable african and chinese child, i, of course, opted to adopt two poor little white boys from the west village. their names are carden and brandon and i rescued them from a private christian school in manhattan.they weren't actually enrolled there because they are, er, poor. they just showed up every day looking for someone to buy them a metro card so they could search the city for the parents who abandoned them and moved to brooklyn to be closer to the ghost of the notorious b.i.g. as you can see they are as sweet as can be and if i work it right we will be on the cover of peep-ho before you know it. then, i, too, will be able to afford better kids from more exotic locales.

but you know what, these little critters have brought more happiness to my life than my deadbeat baby daddy dwyane wade ever has. i'm so thankful that i've been able to experience the joy of parenthood just after getting my aarp card.

but, like i said, i am not as financially solvent as my celebrity friends and need all of you to contribute to this cause. look at their sweet, innocent eyes. they still twinkle when they see inspiring things like el debarge's mug shot or britney's crotch, but they rarely smile any more. and we can't afford prozac. all carden wants for christmas is a 60-inch lcd screen so that he can watch sex and the city reruns at night and feel closer to home. all brandon wants is an iphone so that he can keep in touch with his friends on greenwich street. so please, dig into your wallets and your skinny jeans and send us some C notes. tis the season of giving.

please send all contributions to:

miki turner
c/o the nigerian foundation for poor undesirable white kids
p.o. box 007
lagos, nigeria 4h3

i set up this special account for tax purposes. i'm not going down like wesley snipes.

but if you can't afford to send us any cash during these recessionary times, please know that we sincerely wish you a very ^%#$$^*@## holiday season. that goes double for you d wade!!

cheers,

miki, carden & brandon

i love new york--especially at
this time of the year

it's been more than 20 years since i lived in new york city. i came here from grad school with a simple plan and reconnected with a gracious friend. my plan was to find a job in two weeks or i'd go back to boston and give it another go. the friend was felecia kurtz, one of my best friends from the hampton institute days, who was sharing a studio flak in lefrak city, a lower middle class housing development in queens near laguardia airport, with one of her church friends.

looking back it's a good thing i had lived in boston beforehand. after being reared in an upscale suburb and attending an elistist black college on a very picturesque campus, the gritty streets of beantown helped prepare me for life in the projects. lefrak wasn't a bad place to live, but it did contain some "elements."

as luck would have it i got a low-paying job with the american council for the arts on day 1 of my search. giddy as a piglet in mud, i raced back to queens from midtown on the n train and cut a deal with my new roomates. fk said i could live rent free for as long as i needed. all i had to do was pay part of the ultilities and attend church regularly.

last thursday my shuttle driver took me past my old hood. it looks much bigger now than it did when i lived there. and it looked better all illuminated with bright and colorful christmas lights. there's something about this season that makes you all giddy inside, particularly when you can't help but fall victim to all of the external, electronic, energy-sapping yuletride trappings.

it also makes you rather reflective. i couldn't help but look back on those days when we were all twentysomethings making less than twentysomething annually. we were three women living in a cramped one-room, one-bath studio. we were from vastly different socio-economic backgrounds and had varying degrees of spiritually. the only things we had in common were our affinity for african men--shoutout to james and matthew--and the fact that we were young, seemingly gifted, black and broke.

fk very graciously allowed me to live there rent free for about six months. all of us got along wonderfully until we went our separate ways. i have no idea where edith is now and i saw fk for the first time since 1985 last year when i was on a shoot in her hometown of raleigh, n.c. we exchanged digits and email addresses, but its not like we're blowing up each other's smart phones.

breaking free from the pride back in the day, however, actually allowed me to discover my new york. i love the night life and i would often leave my spacious studio around 11 p.m. on a friday night and cruise over the 59th street bridge in my honda civic hatchback to see what i could get into. more often than not i ended up in the west village or times square, where i actually worked.


i loved racing up and down the avenues with minimal traffic late at night. i still do. once i got to the village i'd stroll into the west 4th st. bar & grill and have a drink. sometimes i'd meet randall kenen there. at the time he was an editorial assistant at knopf, a subsidiary of random house. we both started at the house on the same day. he was smart, gay, gulliable and reasonably good company. he's now an award-winning author of four books and a professor at the university of memphis. sometimes eric simmons would join us, too. eric was tall, gay and a little more streetwise than rand. he had the energy of a herd of wild horses. sadly, eric died years later after jumping into the hudson river to save someone was trying to commit suicide.

that somebody survived.

when it was just me and rand we'd usually eat at burrito loco on w 4th. that was our idea of fine dining at the time. these days neither one of us would be caught dead there. whenever i was alone, i'd usually go to washington square park, which at that time was bustling with activity well into the wee hours of the morning and watch the old men play checkers and the young men sell drugs. and, i'd always spend some time listening to this jazz guitarist on the corner of w 4th and 6th avenue. i'd put some change in his case and request my favorite song--"the new york city woman blues."

every time i come back to the city i go to that same spot at night. he's never there but i can still hear him croon.

if i stopped at times square i'd usually just people watch for a while and then go to curtain up, a cozy little bistro in manhattan plaza. i loved that joint. i once sat next to james baldwin there. bobby short was a regular and a lot of the actors from the negro ensemble company hung out there. lee chamberlain, who played debbi morgan's mother on "all my children" and ellen holly, who played al freeman jr.'s wife on "one life to live" introduced me to it. i followed them there one night after watching them perform in p.j. harvey's compelling play, "a long time since yesterday." it was staged at the henry street settlement house, another favorite spot. it was there that i had the priviledge of seeing beah richards' one-woman show and meeting ossie davis and ruby dee for the first time.

i loved being a part of that crowd and they didn't seem to mind having a green kid from the midwest around.

i wish they were all still here.

the one man who is still around is harvey, the elevator man, at 570 7th avenue. he worked in the building that housed the aca offices back in the day. harvey has to be 90 by now so i was overwhelmed with emotion when i was walking by the building one day three years ago and discovered that he was still there. he still remembered me. i also saw him there earlier this year.

i'm not so sure he remembers me now.

when i jokingly told him it was time to retire he flashed that famous sammy davis jr. smile and said: "why? what would i do?"

since this trip was more about work than enjoyment i didn't get the chance to see harvey or many of my other friends and former co-workers. i did, however, manage to squeeze in a visit with linda, my sister-in-law from cincinnati, and her nephew, my friend nate, from cali. they were in town visiting linda's parents up in harlem. late friday night they came down to my swank eastside hotel and had a drink. i then suggested we go see the tree at rockefeller center.


ironically, i don't think i ever saw the damn tree when i lived here. nor did i ever see the macy's parade, spend new year's eve in times square or even visit any of the iconic tourist traps like the empire state building or the statute of liberty. and sadly, i never did step foot into the twin towers. i thought it would be around for a while, ya dig?

since i've become a vistor i have hit everything except the statue and the parade. the latter will never happen. little miki loathes a parade.

friday was actually my second time visiting the tree. the first time was a few years ago with my then boyfriend. it was so beautiful that it took my breath away. it was so romantic.

this time it was with people i love and it was still glorious. i normally loathe being around tourists, but i loved being in the midst of that crowd. after capturing a few digital moments we headed over to times sqaure--mostly because i love the lights and the vibe when the theater crowds hit the streets after seeing a great show. also, it was something i wanted to share with nate, a wide-eyed surfer dude from orange county.

after my mandatory stop at virgin records to check out the dvd racks and the m&m's store to get my favorite candy (chocolate, no yucky peanut), we headed back to the east side. i put linda and nate in a cab heading uptown and i called it a night. normally, i would have hit the streets again but the frigid temperatures curtailed my desires.

on saturday, after putting in a full day of work, i headed uptown on saturday to visit nate and linda at linda's mom's flat on 148th and 7th. she has the most magnificent view of the entire manhattan skyline. it's just awesome. they were putting up christmas decorations and i was reminded of what a wonderful place this is to spend the holidays.

and these giant ornaments are just the coolest!


i spent about 90 minutes with the fam and then headed downtown to do dinner with CM. i always look forward to these meetings because the conversation is always so stimulating. we met at a thai joint on the yupper west. the food was great, the wine was better and the conversation superb. it was a very good time.

again, i would have hung out after we parted because it was still early. but with the windchill cutting through my gloves like a knife, my hands felts as though they were broken. so, i hopped my chilly ass on the 1 train, transferred to the e and headed back to chelsea, a part of town that i'm madly in love with now.

i love the cobblestone streets, the bars, the bakeries, the shops and the people. it reminds me a lot of london. i stay at this place called the jane, an old residential building that once housed the survivors of the titanic. the rooms are all designed like a ship's cabin (i.e. small) and there are shared loos. i like it here for several reasons. one, the location; two, it's clean and quiet; and three, it's $99 a night.

last night, however, i thought i was going to die. the rooms have no thermostats and the steam heat was on full blast. to keep from melting i had to turn on the air conditioning, which offered little relief, and pat my self down with damp cloths.

sometimes, you really do get what you pay for!

i'm also digging the bk. like chelsea and the east village, there was never any reason to go to brooklyn unless someone you know had died. wow. that's no longer the case. the bk is seriously what's up. i discovered this a couple of years back, but it was reinforced on a recent press trip i took retracing the steps of the late biggie smalls. it was hosted by his mother, viola wallace (below), who was cooler than she ought to be!

although i had originally planned on staying in new york longer i'm leaving tomorrow night. the cold weather and the stress of the past three weeks have made me weary and hungry for my own bed, my bike, my car and the southern california sunshine.

i'll definitely be back here, however, when the seasons change. you can catch me having a pinot noir at bar 51, chowing down on the soy soul chicken at red bamboo in the west village, purusing the stacks at strand and virgin records, making sure harvey is still in the building, hooking up with CM and exploring new culinary options.

spring can't come soon enough!

always keep close friends on speed dial

given a choice i would have preferred not to have gone through all the drama i went through last week. that said, i wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

as a result of having to damn near cuss one of my mother's doctors out, i'm actually a kinder, gentler more rational person than i was a week ago. i know that sounds contradictory, but it's true. given the circumstances of last monday morning when my 82-year-old mother was undergoing gall bladder surgery, i could have easily gone off on her i-am-better-than-thou-because-i-went-to-medical-school m.d. instead, i maintained my cool and avoided becoming some neck-rolling stereotype from a bad '70s network sitcom.

when i was told by a really kind and supportive nurse that my mother's doctor had ordered her to go home on the same day as her surgery, i immediately pulled out my iphone and rang a pair of former college classmates. to say that they kept me out of jail that afternoon is perhaps an understatement.



first i rang my soror, homegirl and friend rhonda from dayton (she's the one with the red hair in the photo). she got her j.d. from howard. then i rang my soror and friend mary from the atl. she went to unc med school. normally, these aren't really my go-to people for more emotional issues, but on monday i needed advice from a doctor and a lawyer. thankfully, they were both reachable when i rang and asked, "what should i do?" they prepared me well to deal with the ensuing BS.

rhonda reminded me that the doctor was working for me and not vice-versa, so i treated him as i would an employee. mary (below) reminded me that doctors from his "cultural background" tend to look down on people who look like me, so i had to school him on who i was in order to get the end result.


so, when i told the charge nurse that we needed to call the mofo m.d. and chat about my mother being admitted, he had the audacity to tell her that he had already discussed it with me and that he wasn't coming to talk to me even though he was still in the hospital.

breathe. one, two, three, four...don't call him a mofo, don't call him a mofo...

calmly and kindly i said: "either he can talk to me or he can talk to the three lawyers i have on speed dial. it's his choice. she's not leaving this hospital today."

he was there in 20 minutes.

when he started babbling about how the insurance might not pay for it, i again remained calm and said: "don't let these sweatpants fool you. i'm a hampton magna and i know that you can write it in such a way that we won't have any issues with the insurance company. so write it out like you would for your own mother."

he cowered and started telling me what he was going to write.

"cheers," i said.

i'm not afraid of a challenge nor do i shy away from confrontation if it's all up in my face. but if it hadn't been for rhonda and mary talking me through that situation, i may have allowed my temper get the best of me and that would not have been a good thing. "the others" need to learn that you can't mess with black folks and their mamas. you will lose every time and quite possibly get your feelings hurt. as a result of my kinder approach, my mother was admitted and the nurses in the outpatient surgery unit at bethesda north actually applauded me when i left that night.

they know what time it is and i must give them big ups. they totally rocked and had my back every step of the way. they were rewarded with fine chocolates and a dozen cupcakes from graeter's for their efforts. a small, but yummy token of my appreciation.

healthcare in america is scary people. and as much as i adore barack obama, i think it might take the next five administrations to straighten this mess out.

last year on a flight to london i watched michael moore's "sicko." although i already knew that healthcare in the U.S. was pathetic, i really had no idea how bad it was until last monday. if i had been forced to take my mother home she could have had all kinds of complications--especially with her high blood pressure fluctuating. and if it hadn't been for mary telling me ahead of time that all of that could happen, i wouldn't have known any better and probably would have taken her home on Monday evening.

after leaving the hospital last monday i had a long conversation with mary. she's an amazing nethrologist who routinely works 19-hour days running her own office, making hospital rounds and being the primary caregiver for her invalid mother. we usually talk two or three times a week--mostly when she's driving home after yet another long day. just before we hung up that night she said, "i think i've given you the wrong impression of doctors. most of them aren't like me. the difference between me and most of them is that i didn't go to med school right out of college. i waited until i was 30. this was something i wanted to do. many of them are slaves to their income and their bottom line."

she's wrong. i didn't have the wrong impression. i knew there was a vast difference between her and some of the doctors i've dealt with personally. many of them don't possess mary's compassion for their patients. it's hard to find one that puts the patient above the bonus check. that goes for lawyers, too. although rhonda doesn't practice law (she owns a college prep academy), if she did, she'd run her law firm in exactly the same way that mary runs her medical practice.

the right way.

since i was unable to reward rhonda or mary with any artery-clogging pastries, i'll do them one better. i'll give them my most precious possession. my words.