Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Fool me once.....

Recently, I pulled into my local Quik Trip station to get some gas, and while pumping and looking at all the other victims of our failed foreign policies, (a different story all together), I noticed a middle aged black lady with a laminated sheet of paper in one hand, and a folder in the other making her way from pump to pump. I wondered what she was doing momentarily, but went on with what I was doing, raising the hood to check fluids, as I had some concern with how my car was running.
Well, as soon as I closed my hood and turned to go inside and get some coffee, there she was: in my face, blocking my way, waving that placard and running her script with all the precision of a surgeon's scalpel. Her eyes darting side to side looking straight into mine, searching my soul, digging feverishly for my heart. My defenses were slow, but they finally went up and her pitch had become a faint background noise as my memory struggled to reconcile the image that was before my eyes.
I formed my mouth to say "I've seen you somewhere before," but she snatched the sentence right out of my mouth, and wove it effortlessly into her script without stopping for breath. She said her brother, one of eleven siblings, and parents had died in a house fire and she was destitute of sustenance to care for herself and the remaining kids. The laminated placard had a newspaper clipping of the horrible event, and the folder had a 20 dollar bill in the foreground of some other papers I didn't bother to read, because my trusty, dusty, memory finally reminded me that I'd given this woman 5dollars some two years ago at a different Quik Trip! "Um...naw baby I ain't gonna be able to help you out this time", I retorted with a bit of vindication. And with that, she gave a quick thank you, spun off and was on to the next one.
Have you ever fell for a REALLY good story that turned out to be a REALLY good con? Regardless of the severity of your loss, it makes you feel quite stupid, but more importantly you're changed from that point on. You say to yourself ,"I can't believe I fell for that sh**...never again!" With every con your hearts grows a new scab on top of the last one, the bigger the con, the thicker the scab until you're nearly immune to the plight of others...but not quite, and the very talented ones will eventually find that slither of hope too.
I said all that because it brought to mind how I feel about our current president, the architect of my latest scab. In the beginning, after he defeated the most odious Hillary Clinton, it was a moment of sheer pride and wonderment, as it was all but certain Barack Obama would ascend to the Presidency. I donated money and helped my daughter register to vote for the very first time, commented on blogs, and called radio talk show host(s) to debate, and yes, even rant about their dislike of a very viable candidate for the Oval Office. I sent scathing emails to Rep. John Lewis of Georgia, and Philadelphia Mayor Mike Nutter accusing them of being political ninnies and sellouts for supporting Hillary. I busied myself with obtaining lodging and transportation for I and my family to Washington for the upcoming historical event, and arranging for vacation time from work and school. Yesss...this was certainly a good time in history to be alive, and I wanted to wrap myself and my family in the moment. 
"Yes We Can" was a very reassuring slogan that millions if not billions hung the hopes of the future on, and we rejoiced, if for nothing else, the end of a reign of wanton constitutional criminality as it pertained to the White House. I defended the Prez on those same radio talk shows and blogs when they attempted to crucify him for not righting all the wrongs of the previous administration in his first 90 days, or even after 365 days.
 At the barber shop and at work, we Democrats mused aloud amongst ourselves of being in control of both houses of Congress since 1995, forthcoming democratic sponsored legislation, the keeping of campaign promises, and that there will be "weeping and gnashing of teeth" in the republican's camp.
People were being put out of their homes due to the housing scams, banks were failing, unemployment was in the double digits, Housing giants Freddie Mac and Fannie Mae, General Motors and other automakers were begging for bailout money and so was Wall Street. There was talk of an economic collapse of cataclysmic proportions. The President authorized the printing of money on a unprecedented scale, and doled it out much to chagrin of his political counterparts. He was getting beat up badly in the press and we who voted for him couldn't understand why he wouldn't verbally strike back and strike back hard!? We supported our president nonetheless, summing up all of his and the party's actions as being necessary to get things going again. We'd say to each other and opponents "he knows what the hell he's doing, he's reeeeal smooth, chill and watch his smoke!"
But then something happened. The radio talk show host(s) were all a buzzed about the POTUS capitulating on the public option of the Health care Bill. My favorite talk show host Mark Thompson on Sirius radio left was seething about this cowardly act and was quite vocal about it on the show to say the least. I was elated about being able to carry my college age kids on my insurance, so I felt like it wasn't a complete loss.Well...before the ink was dry on the paper my job announced that our health care insurance premiums were going up 12% when open enrollment comes around again! What!? What's that you say? I suddenly had that sinking feeling that it's some s**t in the game somewhere and things aren't as they previously appeared to be, but I wasn't ready to bail on the POTUS like others were. We got a whole lot of problems that still have to be resolved and the POTUS will need our support in the upcoming mid-term elections to do the job, so here I go again with pom-poms at the ready, and my Facebook status updates about turning out in numbers sufficient enough to allow Democrats to maintain control. I had catchy slogans like:
"Each one take one to the polls Nov.2nd and vote Democratic!" 
"Let's do it!"
"More Power to the People" and so forth.
Damn... we lost our asses badly in the election..."we got a shellacking".... now what!? Well, unfortunately that question would be answered before I could recover from the last disappointment.
The Prez compromised on extending the tax cuts under the Bush administration, that benefits primarily the wealthy for another 2 years, while only allowing unemployment compensation benefits to be extended a year....definitely a loss for sure. He rationalized this latest betrayal, while moving to the middle, claiming that some liberals would feel "sanctimonious about how pure our intentions are and how tough we are" by refusing to compromise, even if an impasse hurt the working class.
My position is that he wouldn't be in a position whereby he has to wheel and deal away crucial and important elements of the bills if he had grown a spine when were running the show. So, Mr. President I'm feeling disillusioned, disenfranchised, discontented,disenchanted, disconcerted, distressed, disappointed, profoundly bitter, and feeling much like I did encountering  the woman in the gas station....played.
In a feeble attempt to reconcile my feelings with reality, I'd say to myself; "I and my family witnessed a very important cultural event in our country's history, the election of America's first Black President." But the shine of that event has become more and more duller since the inauguration, and I suddenly have to recognize a con job when I see one. The scab waxes thick.
  Ex-President G. W. Bush wasn't an eloquent speaker to say the least but he did make one very profound statement: he said; "There's an old saying in Tennessee — I know it's in Texas, probably in Tennessee — that says, fool me once, shame on — [pauses] — shame on you. Fool me — [pauses] — You can't get fooled again". Exactly.

Pssst!

Monday, November 15, 2010

For Colored Girls ONLY

    Tonight  my wife told me that we were going to see Tyler Perry's movie For Colored Girls. Immediately I thought to myself:: Geeez...why does she want to torture me in this way!? What could I have ever done to her to deserve this kind of mental abuse? I didn't just arrive at this deep seated dislike,..ok ok, hatred for Mr. Perry's movies, I've been conditioned through an onslaught of Madear goes from Havana to Hell movies playing endlessly in the background at my home, but I digress.
For Colored Girls
    We dined sumptuously on fried oysters, okra and sweet tea before we left for the 8pm show and unfortunately since I'd slept in today, I was well rested for the movie. After finding a spot in the crowded parking lot we observed a long line at the ticket window, and no one at the automatic kiosks near the door and I thought to myself:: that's strange, could it be that all those people lack debit or credit cards? In a desperate and last ditch effort, I asked my wife if she'd be interested in watching something else, and she quickly declined the offer pushing the For Colored Girls selection on the kiosk screen for me.
    Well now there was no turning back, my fate was sealed. As we made our way to the ticket taker and she directed us to theater # 5, I had the strangest feeling during that long walk to our seats, that sappy awkward feeling I get when buying flowers and candy in Walmart on Valentines Day. Everyone has a look of profound sympathy at the poor men standing in line with candy and flowers in hand.
   The previews were playing as we entered the theater, and as we sought out our choice of seats, I scanned the few people that were seated to count the heads of men present. I counted 5 men of maybe 20 to 25 souls and prepared myself to be swallowed in a deluge of women upon exiting after the show. We sat down and 2 women with three teenage girls sat down behind us. But one of  the girls kept kicking my wife's seat repeatedly so we moved down three seats as the crowd poured in.
   As the show got underway I watched intently for those same old stereotypes that have dogged Black men and women in films for ages. You know; the angry Black woman, Black men as oversexed predators, drug dealers, pimps, prostitutes, criminality of all sorts, and the newest to the group, the Black man on the down-low. I wouldn't wait long when, alas, the film opens with Kerry Washington, a sympathetic social worker distracted with her own personal problem of fertility, investigating child abuse at the home of Kimberly Elise.
   My wife cuts her eyes at me as if my thoughts were displayed on my forehead: Don't say a word she says in a hushed voice as I chuckled. But I was still willing to give the film a chance as it was just the beginning and the tickets cost me a cool 20 bucks, plus wifey wasn't having any leaving. I'm not going to go into details about the film because I don't want to ruin it for some people who may be reading my blog that haven't seen the film yet, but suffice it to say that the film portrayed yet again the Black man as the rapist, murderer, on the down-low, and oh yeah the token "good guy" cop.
   After the film as we were leaving the theater, I told my wife that Oprah must have helped him do the film adaptation of the 1974 play of For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow is Enuf.
  We discussed the traditional roles that have been reserved for Blacks who are either new to the film industry, or emerging as serious talent within the ranks of the well established actors and actresses. My wife's position was that the film helps young Black women whom have been raised without a father to identify the wrong men to date and marry, and the struggles of Black women within Black relationships. My position is that it does very little for young Black women and immense harm to us as a people. My solution is simple in theory but complex in changing the culture of Hollywood, insomuch that simply boycotting films that portrays blacks in stereotypical roles only hurt those who are budding actors/actresses trying to get a foot in the door.  To be sure, boycotting has its place in a concerted effort of bringing about that change, and we have to be insistent.
 The Cosby Show
  I believe that change as it relates to roles in Black films will only happen when those who are capable of financing Black film do so, and also demand a change that seeks out non-traditional scripts and roles for Blacks that add value to our culture and stop others from defining who we are as a people. We are more dynamic than the ominous, odious, marginalized characters that have been insidiously seared as a hot iron in the minds of folks whom knowledge of Blacks come directly from film. I know one might be thinking, it'll never work, and my answer to that would be, The Cosby Show was a hugely successful show that broke many of television's long held records all while adding value to the stature of Blacks in American society. Our people are much, much more than the booty -clapping women in the latest rap videos, or the pistol toting drug dealing thugs that adorn seemingly every movie spun out of Hollywood, and it's about time we take control of our identity in film and our place in American society.