stompin’ at eatonville and zora, zora everywhere

This past weekend, I had a fabulous Girls Night Out with some of my BFFs as I got an early start in celebrating one of those milestone birthdays (actual birthday is 12/20. Mark it). I will not discuss which one it is just in case you err in my favor with your kind estimation. Whatever you guess, subtract a decade because as we all know — [fill in the blank] is the new [fill in the blank]. It’s almost cliché at this point. OK-not almost. Let’s just say I am old enough to feel as if time is moving faster than a [fill in the blank again]. See it’s moving so fast, I don’t have time to come up with the perfect analogy. At any rate, at this point in my life, I am most interested in that gem called “experience”. And by experience, I mean the philosophical definition – “the totality of the cognitions given by perception; all that is perceived, understood, and remembered.”

I have made a conscious decision to take a more active role in orchestrating memorable experiences. Sometimes great moments just show up and catch you totally off guard but sometimes you just got to make them happen. The surefire way to create such moments is to take your deepest passions and make it a total sensory experience. In other words, make sure that every single one of your senses is involved and enlivened. That way, when your memory begins to fade and someone asks you if you remember that time so long ago, perhaps a flash of something will come to you which might then open the floodgates to all of your wonderful memories.  Only time will tell what part of the memory remains but why not help memories along by building them. You can do this by being more in tune with how you experience life and more importantly how you experience your passions in their totality.

And this brings me back to my milestone celebration. So many elements came together to make it such a memorable experience. The soiree was held at Eatonville restaurant in the U Street corridor in Washington, D.C. which is my favorite part of town. The restaurant pays tribute to Zora Neale Hurston, my favorite author who wrote my favorite book “Their Eyes Were Watching God”, which is written in my favorite down south vernacular of African-Americans in lyrical prose and during my favorite period of history-the Harlem Renaissance. So quite naturally, with all that favorite-ness going on, it made perfect sense to have my party there with some of my favorite girlfriends. In the invite, I requested that the ladies dress up in the style of the Harlem Renaissance/Roaring Twenties. I was so ecstatic that they all obliged. These frail eels, (that’s 20s Harlem slang talk meaning pretty girls), made my night one I will never forget.

If I am blessed with the length of  many years, maybe one of the flappers from the party will come visit me on my 80th birthday and we will sit on the porch and have some iced tea. Well maybe not. My birthday is in December. Scratch that. Perhaps over eggnog, we will sit by the Christmas tree and reminisce about all the fun we had and maybe one of us will bring up this night and we will argue about whether or not we dressed up in the 20s era or the 60s era and I will insist it was the 20s era because I should know- it was  my idea and party and she will say oh yeah that’s it and I will say, don’t you remember how we were draped down and looking fabulous— feathers in our hair,  long strings of pearls, long cigarette holders, fringe dresses, gloves, and fur and how every cat in the spot wished they had put on their finest zoot suit and had a fedora to tip as we swayed our hips on by and she will laugh and get up to try and demonstrate the flapper strut, then grab her back before sitting right back down and then she will say- wasn’t the party in Eatonville, Florida and I will say nah girl it was at a restaurant called Eatonville-don’t you remember my Zora, Zora, everywhere in those huge colorful murals, laughing in some and looking mean and impressive in others and she will say no I don’t remember that but I do remember those beautiful, glamorous chandeliers on the really high ceiling because I noticed them when I reached the top of the staircase and just stood there for awhile mesmerized by their sparkle and taking in all the beautiful, happy people below enjoying a spectacular night out and I will say-no chile, I don’t remember that but Oh how I remember that delicious southern cuisine-fried green tomatoes and catfish and jalapeno cheese grits and collard greens and corn bread and oatmeal pecan pie and she will say damn–you got a good memory because I don’t remember none of that but I do remember drinking a few Tracy-tinis and I will laugh and say you mean martinis, fool and she will say oh yes—Ha! Freudian slip! and then she will say how the live jazz added to the ambience as we told stories and joked and laughed and then I will remember something and tell her that I will be right back and I will slowly climb the stairs holding tight to the rail and minutes later I will return with the black feather boa I wore that night draped around my shoulders and I will do a little dance and she will laugh out loud and say girl, I can’t believe you still have that ratted old thing and I will run my fingers through the feathers and say I remember how soft these feathers felt on my neck all night long and I will tell her how when I was getting dressed, at the last minute,  I sprayed my favorite cologne on the boa and she will say I remember asking you what perfume you were wearing that night and I will ask her if she remembers what I told her and she will say you told me that a lady never reveals her fragrance, it’s the fragrance that reveals the lady and I will say that is absolutely right and that my mama always told me that and we will both smile at our collective memory, get tipsy off the eggnog, and start making  things up (like Michelle Obama was at the party) as two generations below beg us to tell them more stories about the good old days.

Build your memories with your senses and neither your memories nor your senses will fail you later.

Thanks to Bola, Connie, Courtney, Cree, Jane, Lisa, Michelle, Samantha, Sasha, and Wanda for making my ?th birthday celebration  a night to remember!

www.eatonvillerestaurant.com

And that’s a wrap!

precious the movie, precious indeed

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The highly-acclaimed and anticipated movie ‘Precious’ has finally been released in a theatre near you or should I say unleashed? ‘Precious’ was adapted from the novel ‘Push’ written by Sapphire and published in 1996. It tells the uncompromising story of an obese African-American sixteen year old girl who suffers horrific abuse at the hands of her parents and finds herself pregnant for the second time by her own father, deeply depressed, illiterate, and hopeless until she gets a breakthrough with a caring teacher, her pen, and a new family. First I read the novel. push_book_coverThen I listened to an interview conducted by Katie Couric with Sapphire where she discussed some of her motivations for writing the book and how the character Precious was a composite of several people she encountered while working in Harlem. Next I watched an NPR interview with the film director Lee Daniels who discussed some of his choices in his portrayal of the story as well as his directing techniques.  Then I got together with some of my friends to see the movie. Afterwards, we discussed the movie over sangria and tapas. I also read several reviews–some glowing, some extremely critical, and some lukewarm. I even decided to produce a documentary and traveled to Harlem in search of Precious (just kidding). At any rate, I can now speak on it and here it is. I am very glad that I saw it and highly recommend that you see it too if you haven’t already.  Yet, even putting aside the movies’ graphic depiction of the gruesome abuses and indignities that its main character Precious bears, there are some aspects that are troubling when viewed through a certain lens. However, what Precious ultimately delivers far outweighs the parts that gave me pause.

But first-the negatives. It appears that, intentionally or subconsciously, there is some remarkable colorism going on here. The biggest evidence to support this contention is the fact that disproportionately the evil ones and the primary victims are all of a darker hue and the saviors (the teacher, nurse, and social worker) are of a lighter hue. Most notably for those that read the book, Daniels cast the teacher as light-skinned, whereas in the book, she was described as dark with long “dreadlockey hair.” In the reverse, a Jamaican student, Rhonda, with a troubled past who was described as having “light skin but it don’t do nuffin for her” was cast as dark-skinned in the movie. Maybe this was unintended but it is telling because the movie was so true to the book in so many other ways. Whatever the case, this really stood out to me and I wished the Director had made other choices especially since Precious, herself, has such an obsession with color that it becomes part of her deeply embedded self-hatred. In an extremely disturbing moment, reminiscent of Toni Morrison’s Pecola in ‘The Bluest Eye’, Precious looks into the mirror and sees her reflection as a skinny, white woman with long blonde hair. So so sad.

Another issue that emerged for me even before I saw the movie was its potential to perpetuate negative stereotypes. Would  I witness Black on Black crime—a movie made by Blacks about Blacks that exploits the pathology of the underbelly in our communities, a whole host of abusers—mental, physical, sexual, drug, welfare. Who will help these worthless, shiftless, soulless Negros? Is the answer a band of White superheroes or maybe some light-skinned angels swooping in to save the day?  I rethought this and came to the conclusion that this is the story and it speaks a truth. It is what it is. Maybe it brings to the forefront a story rarely seen in real life or maybe we just turn away when we see it because it is too overwhelming or we don’t care. But here it is now in our face on a big wide screen. It was difficult but I was not gonna back away. I knew there would be light. Pain should never be in vein.

I am sure there are other issues and concerns that can be discussed because you know everyone brings their preconceived notions to the table and you can’t please everyone. Most artists aren’t fool enough to make that attempt. Even one of my favorite movies, ‘The Color Purple’ was highly criticized and had its shortcomings but let me tell you, get me in the right mood and I will act out for you every pivotal scene—“All my life I had to fight…” Sorry I couldn’t resist.

Now onward to why I can highly recommend this movie. At the end of the day, ‘Precious’ is a story about the triumph of the human spirit! And what we need in times like these is a constant flow of inspirational testimonies regarding surviving the stark realities of life, even the unthinkable that Precious endured. The movie, as best as it could in two hours, gets across in a vivid, heart wrenching way, the what and the who that failed Precious and the what and the who that ultimately saved her. The performances of Gabourey Sidibe who plays Precious and of Mo’Nique who plays Precious’ vicious mother were phenomenal and this has to be a testament of both their great acting abilities and the brilliant directing of Lee Daniels. It just so happens that the author of the novel and the Executive Producers of the movie Oprah Winfrey and Tyler Perry all tell stories of being abused as children. And the Director shares that he was a witness to abuse—the most chilling example is when he was a child, his neighbor, a young girl showed up at their front door totally naked and covered in blood. Her mother had beaten her unmercifully and she ran to them seeking refuge. An image like that is never forgotten and I am sure it guided Daniels as he worked on this project.

One license in fiction is you can create incredibly strong characters, sometimes bigger than life, that face insurmountable odds and then have them overcome them with fierce determination in poetic and gripping ways. When done well, the story takes you on the character’s journey every step of the way and when they are victorious, you share their elation. Long after you read the final word or witness the last scene, the character stays with you and informs you. After encountering Precious, you won’t forget her. The people that took this project on knew that. And it is very possible these same people, former victims who have found tremendous success, also find a sense of healing as they witness the cycle of abuse demonstrated in this movie being stopped. They are hoping that the movie produces the same effect in others. ‘Precious’ does not have a BIG HAPPY ending where all is well but it does symbolize hope and sometimes a glimmer of the hope magic is all that’s needed.

Wouldn’t it be beyond triumphant to look the thing or person that has been the albatross of your existence, dead in the eye and proclaim–You no longer have power over me! I survived you! I am still standing. I am still strong! Go see this movie because it might resonate and inspire you in a number of ways from volunteering to teach someone to read or deciding to learn how to read to reporting abuse or leaving an abusive relationship or ceasing abusing someone to letting something or someone go and moving on. If these things occur after seeing the movie, I suppose I can deal with a few too many light-skinned do-gooders thrown in. Besides we all know that the evil ones come in all shapes, sizes and colors but so do the precious ones.

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Since I can’t give you any of ‘Precious’, I will give you the character Drucilla played  by Victoria Rowell, from the ‘Young & the Restless’  in a powerful scene where she declares victory over her abusive mother.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RckGDGmCcD8

And I will end with a scene from the movie ‘Antwone Fisher’. I couldn’t find the one where he declared that he was still standing but this one is powerful too. The character Antwone recites the poem, ‘Who Will Cry for the Little Boy’.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w6ImjDK_ZnY

And that’s a wrap!

trash or treasures, flea market finds

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I love going to flea markets in search of treasures. You just never know what you might find. Today I ventured out on an unusually warm day for Fall in DC in search of a copy of the book “Push,” which is now the major motion picture, “Precious” and coming soon to a theatre near you if not already. I plan to see the movie next weekend and wanted to read the book first. Within five minutes of my arrival to the “DC Farmer’s Market” flea market, I had a copy in my hand for a very good price. Mission accomplished so I should have headed back home to enjoy the rest of the afternoon swinging on my porch under a sunny sky and enjoying my book find but I decided to take a little stroll around the market first. Furniture, art, CDs, hats, jewelry,  and shoes mixed in with everything from trash to treasures depending on the eye of the beholder. I even ran into the Silver Lady pictured above. I asked her if she was going anywhere special to which she replied, “Heaven.” Alrighty then. Who am I to doubt it?

Anyways, I was making my way around looking here and there but I was careful not to get too close to the vendors’ mini-stores and doubly careful not to make eye contact. These days, everyone is so hungry for a sale that I didn’t want to get anybody’s hope up unless I was seriously thinking about making a purchase. After I had covered most of the ground, I was heading toward the exit gate when I heard this fellow yelling from my right, “Ebonies-One Dollah, Jets-Three for Two Dollahs!” Hmm…That sounded intriguing enough to move in his direction to take a closer look. Once I did, I saw Ebony and Jet magazines dating back to the 70’s scattered about in piles on his table. My eyes lit up. I love seeing the old magazine covers especially Ebony and Jet. They were in no condition to put on EBay but they seemed really valuable to me right away. I would later get this description of the two magazines in the blog “All Bronx News All The Time” to describe just what these magazines have meant to African-Americans.

Two of the most notable permanent fixtures in every black household over the years were Ebony and Jet magazines. If you wanted to learn about your history, the plight of black America, current issues facing us, how the political process of America affects us, how politics works, who the fastest rising actors are, successful black television shows, who was recently married, which cities had black mayors, police chiefs, school superintendents, how to register to vote, which cars offer the best value, how to apply for college scholarships, etc, More likely than not, either Ebony or Jet provided answers to those questions.

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Unfortunately, the purpose of the blog entry was to share what an awful crisis the magazines published by the Johnson Publishing Company were facing earlier this year. The bleak headline was “Ebony & Jet Magazines are On the Verge of Financial Collapse.” As far as I can tell, their situation hasn’t changed much. Hopefully I am wrong. These magazines are certainly not the only print publications that have suffered tremendous losses. Both the economic downturn and the rapid shift to the 24/7 news cycle are to blame among other factors. We want our news a little deeper and a little faster these days. The Internet with a multitude of sources satisfies our hunger to have the very latest news and to have it free at the click of a mouse. I do, however, have subscriptions to Essence and Uptown, whose primary audience is African-American as well. I consider these magazines more focused on life-style and more directed toward me. I look forward to receiving them and set aside a special time to read them from cover to cover after they arrive.

I thought about how it is quite possible that Ebony and Jet might be discontinued in the future as I leafed through the old issues. They are now artifacts depicting what or whoever was hot or important at the time in African-American history and culture. I saw Sugar Ray Leonard, Jayne Kennedy, and Emmanuel Lewis gracing the covers. Wonder what they’re up to now? I grabbed the ones with “The Jeffersons”, “Good Times”, and “Different Strokes” because those were some of my favorite shows growing up. Ironically one Jet that had George and Weezy from ‘The Jeffersons” on the cover  read “The Jeffersons Are In…But Most Black Shows Are Out On TV.” Hmmm…not much has changed since 1978. When I got them home, instead of reading “Push”, I found myself skimming the old articles and looking at the advertisements, mostly for black beauty products, cigarettes, and liquor (“Nobody does it like the bull.”). There were a lot of blasts from the past. The Top Five Singles for August 27, 1981 were:

  1. She’s A Bad Mama Jama by Carl Carlton                  
  2. Love on a Two Way Street by Stacey Latisaw
  3. I’m in Love by Evelyn King
  4. Endless Love by Lionel and Diana Ross
  5. Give It To Me Baby by Rick James

No hits lately from Carl and Stacey, Lionel and Diana are megastars still, and Rick has passed away. The same magazine on one page had articles about Michael Jackson and Phyllis Hyman. Both-gone too soon.

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I was just about done reminiscing for the day and ready to open up my new book when I saw that the address label was still affixed to all the magazines. Apparently, a lady from Henderson, North Carolina once had the subscription to these. How and why did she keep them for thirty years? What route did they follow to end up in a DC flea market and now in my hands?  I even googled the lady and actually found her number. I am starting to think that maybe I am not so much an anthropologist as I am just plain ole nosey. I almost called her but stopped myself. What would I say? Thanks for helping me spend twelve more dollars than I intended to spend today? Actually I would probably just say thanks for being a pack rat so I can still enjoy all the history and beautiful photos in those magazines from back in the day. It’s always good to remember even as we move forward.

But should we all go out and get subscriptions to Ebony and Jet to ensure their future? Well for four more dollars than I spent on all the old magazines, I could have gotten a year subscription to some new ones. The bottom line is businesses must adapt to changing times and be forward-thinking to be successful in this sink or swim climate.  If Ebony and Jet remain relevant to a large enough audience, they will survive.  I definitely need Jet to stick around at least until I make the Jet Beauty of the Week. Now that issue would fly off the stands and absolutely ensure  its legacy and secure its future. For ths reason alone, you might want to get a subscription because you do not want to miss this when it happens! http://www.ebonyjet.com

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Now finally I can read “Push.”

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And that’s a wrap!

michael jackson and what it is

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I finally got to experience the Michael Jackson film, This Is It but I’m not gonna review it, per se. That has already been done and many of you have already seen it and more than likely was just as blown away as I was. Honestly, I can’t find any better adjectives to describe the genius of this man. Suffice to say, the film was phenomenal and Michael Jackson is/was a phenomenon. Without a doubt, the concert Michael had in store for us was going to be absolutely out of this world and this film only gave us a mere glimpse. It was just a rehearsal, folks. At first thought, it would seem as though his death cheated everyone that was part of that production and most of all-us-the audience that was to be the receiver of the gift. Moreover, it seems his death cheated us of Michael himself. But it is times and things like this when we realize that there are no easy answers. We have to dig deeper to find meaning and purpose when the unthinkable happens.

Last night as I lay in my bed trying to fall asleep, I was still a little wound up and I kept repeating the words This Is It…This Is It…This Is It in my head and when I woke up this morning the song Heal The World was also stuck in my head. I think that must have been the song playing as I exited the theatre yesterday. But back to the words This Is It. There is seemingly such finality in those words.  It’s over. There will be nothing more. Zilch. It’s the end. But what if you placed more emphasis on the “it”? What is IT? It hit me. IT is really the beginning. IT is the charge Michael left us as we move forward. Michael brought us as close to perfection as he was destined. We saw it in the rehearsals but more importantly, we saw it in his life work. He always wanted to create and deliver something that had never been done before, something bigger and better, higher and brighter.  But now it is up to us to perform the actual show that he is no longer able to perform. Michael has challenged us to do it even better than he did IT. We are the ones that are coming to the stage now. The teacher has taught and the student must now demonstrate what he/she has learned.

So when you hear someone say that there will never be another Michael, that is true, But there are several “someones” that embody and will embody  Michael’s talent, work ethic, passion, sense of purpose, generosity, and humility. And Michael will be there in spirit giving a leaping ovation with a couple of “hee hees”, a triple spin, a perfect landing on his toes, and a crouch grab! But before you take that bow, what is it exactly that you’re gonna do when you come to the stage to give the world the show that Michael intended?

  • Will you tell a story that has never been told in a way that that has never been done?
  • Will you lead a movement to get something done that needs to be done?
  • Will you let go of a fear and come into your greatness?
  • Will you heal the sick, protect the innocent, and comfort the broken–hearted?
  • Will you make a sacrifice that will cause a seismic shift?
  • Will you make an effort to translate your vision into a plan and then implement it?
  • Will you defy logic and expectations?
  • Will you speak a truth loud enough to drown out a chorus of lies?
  • Will you love yourself wholeheartedly and then love others in the same magnitude?
  • Will you find a solution and not another problem?
  • Will you invent a better and simpler way?
  • Will you use your art form as a platform for excellence or change?
  • Will you not let adversity define you or anything or anyone for that matter, except for your most strong, determined and beautiful self?
  • Will you share your wisdom, your gifts, and your passions so that others might be inspired to do the same?
  • Will you dream a world while others doubt its infinite possibilities?
  • Will you save this planet from environmental destruction or at least try?
  • Will you not commit or permit violence with words or actions?
  • And when the time comes, will you step aside and let someone else shine as brightly as you?

Or when your name is called and the curtain goes up, will you be lurking in the shadows, forever the onlooker, non-participant, or critic and not heed the call? The rehearsal is over. Take a good last look in the mirror and hit stage. It’s SHOWTIME!

And so it seems, once again, IT is all up to you and me and this, my friends, is what IT is!

And that’s a wrap!

an exercise of restraint

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Yesterday was National Chocolate Day. Today is not unless you plan on eating dark chocolate which apparently has some health benefits when eaten in moderation. In walks… no….in runs the voice of reason=>>Although chocolate is delicious, gives me pleasure, and makes me feel happy, too much is not good for me and packs on the pounds. This is one case where my life mantra of pursuing your passions with reckless abandon does not apply. For EMPHASIS: This is NOT a purposeful passion to pursue with vigor.

Unfortunately, my passion for chocolate is one in which I must exercise restraint  if I want to live a long and healthy life, free to pursue other worthwhile passions and free to fulfill my wildest dreams. So today is INTERNATIONAL STEP AWAY FROM THE CHOCOLATE AND GRAB AN APPLE ON THE WAY TO THE GYM DAY!

Any takers on this celebration?

{{Echo Echo}}

chocolate passion on national chocolate day

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Today is NATIONAL CHOCOLATE DAY and I have already started celebrating by eating my favorite chocolate candy bar.

THE CLARK BAR

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What’s not to love about chocolate? Not only does it taste sooooooooo delicious but it actually has great heath benefits. From what I have read, chocolate has the power to act as an antioxidant, can lower blood pressure and cholesterol, and act as both an antidepressant and stimulant.

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But do your own research. I’m just a chocolate-lovin’ blogger, not a doctor. Besides, unfortunately, those benefits only apply to DARK CHOCOLATE (and in moderation), the very kind of chocolate I don’t like. Dark chocolate is just too darn bitter for me. I prefer my chocolate creamy, milky, and sweet and I still derive the best benefit of all from this kind. It gives me pleasure and makes me feel happy!

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How do you like your chocolate? Do you have a special ritual you follow as you eat it?

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According to Dr. Mark Stibich, there is a proper method to eating chocolate much like wine tasting. Honestly, I just dive right in but just in case there is someone out there who wants to add to the chocolate experience (if that is even possible), then below are the doctor’s steps to follow:

  1. Room Temperature: For best tasting, chocolate should be at room temperature. This allows the chocolate to begin to melt the moment it hits your mouth. Cold chocolate doesn’t release its flavors and aromas as quickly, altering the tasting experience.
  2. Be Still: You can’t appreciate good chocolate if the phone is ringing or you are checking your e-mail. Chocolate comes from all over the world to end up in your house, so turn off the TV and give the chocolate some respect. It will reward you for it.
  3. Clear Your Palate: You don’t want other tastes interfering with your experience of the chocolate. Make sure no flavors are lingering in your mouth before you begin tasting your chocolate. A piece of apple, a bit of bread or (believe or not) a bite of a pickle are all said to erase flavors in your mouth.
  4. Look at the Chocolate: Chocolate experts use the appearance of the chocolate as one of many criteria to judge its quality. Good chocolate should have a shiny, even gloss on its surface. If chocolate is too old, it will develop a hazy finish called ‘bloom.’ The color of the chocolate depends on the origin of the beans and the roasting process. The color should be uniform for the entire bar. Also examine the detail and care that has been put into creating the chocolate bar. Are the edges clean? Is the molding clear? Has extra effort been put into making an even, uniform bar?
  5. Break Off a Piece: Break your piece of chocolate in half and listen to the sound. High quality chocolate produces a sharp, crisp sound and a clean edge. This is called the chocolate’s “snap.” The higher the cocoa quantity and the better the tempering, the louder the “snap” of the chocolate. Professional chocolate tasters can tell a great deal about the quality of chocolate just by this sound.
  6. Rub It: Take your finger and rub just a bit of the chocolate. The chocolate should feel smooth and even. The warmth of your body will cause the chocolate to melt and release odors. These odors will enhance the intensity of your tasting.
  7. Smell the Chocolate: Much like wine experts, chocolate experts can find an incredible array of scents and aromas. Some chocolate flavors include:choco-one
    • burnt bread
    • nutty
    • spicy
    • fruity

    The list could continue forever. When you begin tasting chocolate, these aromas probably won’t be clear to you. That’s okay. Spend more time just smelling the chocolate. Warm it up more with your finger, close your eyes, and let your smell-imagination run wild. Eventually different chocolates will recall different odors. You will start to know which regions of the world produce chocolate with which aromas.

  8. Feel the Chocolate in Your Mouth: Good chocolate should literally “melt in your mouth.” Chocolate melts at about 97 degrees. While melting the chocolate should feel rich and luscious in your mouth. You should not need to chew good chocolate at all, just let the flavors release on their own. Examine the texture of the chocolate — it can vary from smooth to grainy. Good chocolate has a rich, velvety texture. Poor quality chocolate feels waxy or greasy.
  9. Taste It: Finally, you should taste the chocolate. You can chew if you want, but just a couple of times. Like with smelling the chocolate, pay attention to the flavors that just pop into your head. These could be the same as what you smelled, or completely different. Spend time being aware of how the flavors change over time as the chocolate continues to melt and coat more of your mouth.
  10. The Finish: As the last of the chocolate leaves your mouth, the lingering flavor is known as the ‘finish’ of the chocolate. Good chocolate should have a complex, interesting finish that is not bitter or unpleasant. The finish is an important part of the tasting, as many of the early flavors may be masked by other ingredients in the chocolate.

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OR JUST GOBBLE IT UP!  Actually I do have one rule. If the chocolate melts onto your fingers, it is more than OK to lick it off!

Go ahead and celebrate the wonders of  chocolate today!

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NOTE: In case I repost this blog entry, please know there are several “official” National Chocolate Days and I celebrate them all!

And that’s a wrap!

Published in:  on October 28, 2009 at 11:44 am Comments (9)
Tags: , , , , , ,

black pearl sings, sally walker rises, & stories are passed down in the digital age

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Little Sally Walker sitting in a saucer…Rise Sally Rise…” Who remembers wiping your weepin’ eyes, putting your hands on your hips and letting your backbone slip? At least this is the version of the Little Sally Walker game I remember from growing up in the 70s a pretty little Black girl in Arkansas-not a colored girl-that was the previous generation. Some versions said “Ride Sally Ride” but that must have been up north with the citified folks– if you know what I mean. Anyway, a “Sally” would be chosen and her best girlfriends would hold hands and form a circle around her until she did her little dance to their little singsong chant and landed face-to-face on the next “Sally” to take center stage. “Ah shake it to the east…Ah shake it to the west! Shake it to the one that you love the best!” I was reminded of this innocent little game recently when I saw it being performed by the lead character Pearl played by Tony-award winning, Broadway sensation, Tonya Pinkins, in the stage play Black Pearl Sings! Pearl added the necessary “flava” to the version of “Little Sally Walker” that her White counterpart, a rather conservative and stiff Susannah, had offered up which lacked the sway, shake, and swirl of soul-stirring, child-bearing hips filled with song and a yearning. Pearl tried her best to give Susannah a lesson and I do think she kind of caught on after a few tries but just kept falling short when it came time to shake it to the east!

pearl2Black Pearl Sings!, written by Frank Higgins and directed by Jennifer L. Nelson, reaches back in its depiction to the 1930s when the Library of Congress hired researchers, writers, and artists to travel the United States in search of unbeknownst folklore to collect and preserve for future generations. The character Susannah, played by the super talented Erika Rolfsrud, is a musicologist who takes the charge and sets out to discover little-known melodies in Texas that she hopes will bring her fame and a professorship at Harvard. It is just her luck when she encounters Pearl who has spent years in prison for chopping off her ex’s pecker. Pearl has inside of her countless songs shaped by both African and African-American traditions and ancestral roots that have been passed down to her from her family and community that date back to slavery times and some going all the way back to Africa before her people were stolen away and brought and enslaved on an island off of South Carolina called Hilton Head (before the lush golf courses). Pearl will gladly share her treasures with Susannah if she will do her a favor as well, that is, assist her in finding her daughter who has disappeared from her and, of course, get her a pardon from the Governor. A deal is made. And such begins the tension of the play-Susannah’s motivations for fame and recognition versus Pearl’s motivations for family and fortune, in that exact order. The two engage in an unlikely partnership that takes them to Harlem where Pearl becomes a recording sensation and the star of a one-woman show to the delight of Susannah and other seekers of folklore and a little bit of caricature thrown in for good measure. Although they celebrate their successes together, Pearl is quick to remind Susannah throughout the play that they aren’t friends-“just friend-ly”.

In the end, what does Pearl sacrifice and what does she hold sacred and not for sale? If you want to find out how the story ends, there are a few more show times left at the Ford Theatre in Washington, D.C. Be prepared to be thoroughly entertained by Pinkin’s perfect comedic timing  but more importantly her powerful a capella delivery of joy and pain in some recognizable spirituals like “Do Lord, Oh Do Lord, Do Remember Me.” Pinkins brings boldness to her character as she portrays a dynamic woman who is self-assured, confident, and in control but she also brings the angst and desperation that lies just beneath Pearl’s surface until it at first seeps, then pours out in her rich, soulful renditions of songs that speak to her tribulations.pearl_sings2

After experiencing Black Pearl Sings! and exploring the notion of how a people holds onto their collective traditions that at some point begin to symbolize the best and worst of times, it got me thinking about how we pass stories down from generation to generation. Our way of life will one day be characterized as folklore by future historians and anthropologists. What will they dig up? What will we leave behind? According to the Texas Folklore Society, “Folklore is the traditional knowledge of a culture.  Although it can be closely related to history at times, folklore concerns the things about a group that are not usually found in historical records.”  Well we all know what happens when we rely on others to document us—some major stuff gets left out-namely–us. There’s HisStory, HerStory, & TheirStory. What about your story?

Recently, I got the compliment of my life when my daughter told me that she enjoys it when I tell my stories and she told me this with a straight face and she didn’t follow her statement up with a request of any kind. SHOCKING! When I heard her say that, my backbone slipped, I broke into a wide smile, and jumped up and did a dance. Ah shake it to the east! Ah shake it to the west! Who loves mama’s stories the best? I had no idea she actually listened to them–let alone enjoyed them. That was never a requirement for me to tell them. I decided to test her by throwing out a couple of words to see if doing so would trigger her memory about the story relating to the words. For starters, I said “Uncle Lynn” and she said, “The Chicken Story” and I said “Yes” with pride! I asked her to expand and she didn’t quite have all the details so I chimed in and retold the story with all the nuances and proper inflections and climatic build-up and requisite chuckle at the end.  My job won’t be done until she knows the story word for word and can mock me just like I use to do with Uncle Lynn when he use to tell me the same story over and over again every time I saw him.

Now this is what concerns me. Somehow I don’t think we are passing down our stories with such deliberateness as before. Oral traditions have morphed into cyber traditions. I fear that with so many communications taking place on the computer, much is going to be lost in a hard drive meltdown or into cyberspace, the boundaries of which has got to be the last frontier. I started thinking about ways to preserve our stories for generations to come as we continue to become, for good or for bad, one with our computer. If creating a legacy, preserving your history, and leaving behind lessons of love and wisdom and stories that embody every emotion under the sun is important to you and I know it is, take a look at the list of ideas that follows on how to do so. Go ahead, try a couple and I will too. By the way, I bet you want to hear that chicken story, huh? The next time we meet up, either I or my daughter will tell you for some supper. OK, she probably won’t but I will.

Ten Ideas on How to Pass Down Stories in the Digital Age

  1. Tell the same story over and over again to your intended audience until you see evidence that it has stuck. They will be annoyed and roll their eyes but don’t let that dissuade you. If they run from you, tie them up.
  2. Keep a journal or a diary. If you do it online, print it out and place the pages in a binder.
  3. Write an autobiography. Don’t worry about whether it will ever be published. Write is for your own release and to pass on the story of you.
  4. Videotape elders and asks a lot of questions. And of course videotape you and your children telling your favorite stories or just experiencing life. Make a transcript of the tapes and store it away in a safe spot just in case.
  5. Make a scrapbook of photographs and include notes to provide information regarding the occasion. Be sure to include the date, location and place. And while we are on photographs, be sure to print them out soon after you take them. Even if they don’t make it in the album or scrapbook right away, at least you are a step closer.
  6. If you are an artist, make a list that includes your works and the date of creation. If you are a writer, try to gather your writings in one place. As a bonus, record how your art speaks to you, your motivation to create, and whatever else you want folks to know about your passion long after you are gone. As we all know, some artists are so forward thinking, that they are not fully appreciated until their death. I’m sure that’s the case with me now (clearing throat).
  7. At the next family reunion, record all the activities, especially those times where your family is just sitting down reminiscing on the days of old or what embarrassing thing Uncle did last night at the family dinner. Also, another fun thing to do at the reunion is to create a scavenger hunt for the children by compiling a list of questions regarding interesting facts about the older folks and elders. Some sample questions could be, “Which cousin graduated from X college with a degree in X?” or “Which cousin’s favorite book is “Their Eyes Watching God?” or “Which elder grew up in X and witnessed X?” or “Find someone over 40 to give you some quick advice and write it down.” Whoever gets the most answers correct in a set amount of time wins a prize. This game was a hit at one of my previous reunions and everyone left with some more information about their relatives.
  8. Write letters to your little ones or loved ones to be read at a later date. I know you just want to email them but you need to print them out for delivery. I’m sorry Mr. Trees but when is the last time someone discovered an old forgotten computer tucked away in an old dusty chest in the attic? Enough said-not too mention technology is changing rapidly but paper is paper.
  9. Have everyone in your family make a list of their favorite things from foods to music to hobbies every year and store it away for safekeeping.
  10. Start a blog that chronicles your life or records the progression of things and topics that hold your interest and are significant to you. Again, print out your entries and store them in a binder as back up.

BONUS

This one is for those of you on sites like Facebook and MySpace. On significant days in history, save and print out you and your friends’   reactions to the event for future generations. You never know, there may come a time when social media is a laughable relic of the past.

OK that’s all I can think of for now. If you think of any other ways to preserve your stories for your children, family, and all of posterity, please let me know. Now let me tell you a story about a man named Jed, a poor mountaineer, barely kept his family fed. Then one day…

Well you know the rest, right?

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Click below for Billy Preston’s Little Sally Walker from 1965

Click below for a 2008 version of Little Sally Walker done by a group of school kids.

And that’s a wrap!

r.i.p. ben ali: founder of ben’s chili bowl, dc’s own

chilidog

Ben’s Chili Bowl

chili dogs, chili half smokes, chili burgers

chili bowls, chili cheese fries,

chili passion, chili love

chili heartburn? Nooooo! Never!

but

“Our chili will make a dog bark.”

Washington Post photo
Ben Ali, June 13, 1927-October 7,2009

We mourn the loss of Ben Ali, founder of Ben’s Chili Bowl, a Washington, D.C. institution. Mr. Ali passed away October 7, 2009 at the age of 82.  I love this place where tourists and regulars line up to hang out and get some spicy, delicious chili. Please have your order together to keep the line moving and cash only! I always bring my guests from out-of-town here to start my tour. There is so much  D.C. history and love within those walls. Thanks Mr. Ali for your legacy!

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Black owned and operated since 1958

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Ben’s Chili Bowl was the only business on U Street to survive the looting that took place during the 1968 riots after King was assassinated.

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Little has changed in the decor since its inception, including the red stools at the counter. 003

President Obama visits Ben’s Chili Bowl as soon as he moves to town.

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For more on Ben Ali’s amazing life, read below.

http://voices.washingtonpost.com/postmortem/2009/10/ben_ali_of_bens_chili_bowl_die.html?hpid=artslot#

langston hughes way, what happens & dreams

What happens to a dream not deferred?

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Does it gather on a sunny day on 14th and V Streets

in Washington D.C.

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to sound the drums of peace and rename this sacred place Langston Hughes Way?

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Or does it march with pride,

high-steppin’ and show stoppin’  in blue

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and cause the elders and the babies to

to call upon the ancesters?

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Does it remember and take action,

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represent and smile,

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step up to the mic with confidence

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to uplift and inspire?

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Does it sing a happy song, reach out,

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and rejoice?

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Maybe it just imagines that a street

will be named after her one day.

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Or does it soar!

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On September 18, 2009, the 1300 block of V Street, NW in Washington D.C., was officially unveiled as Langston Hughes Way. On September 19, 2009, we celebrated this wonderful occassion at the U Street Festival 2009 on the same block as Busboys & Poets Restaurant & Bookstore, also named for the legendary poet who walked the very street that now bears his name.

At the festival, I met a sweet  little girl who was four years old. I wish I knew her name. She eagerly took the stage when it was her turn to recite her poem and did an outstanding job. Afterwards, I asked her if she could recite her poem again just for me and she happily agreed. I was so touched that I asked her mother if I could take her home. Of course, she said, “No way!” I don’t blame her.

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Precious!

her poem

hold onto your dreams

it is important

if you don’t hold onto your dreams

they will disappear

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Click below for a reading of A Dream Deferred

by Langston Hughes

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SOME LANGSTON HUGHES POETRY ON DREAMS

for your soul

A Dream Deferred by Langston Hughes

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore–
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over–
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

Dreams by Langston Hughes

Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Covered with snow

Dream Variations by Langston Hughes

To fling my arms wide
In some place of the sun,
To whirl and to dance
Till the white day is done.
Then rest at cool evening
Beneath a tall tree
While night comes on gently,
Dark like me–
That is my dream!

To fling my arms wide
In the face of the sun,
Dance! Whirl! Whirl!
Till the quick day is done.
Rest at pale evening . . .
A tall, slim tree . . .
Night coming tenderly
Black like me.

As I Grew Older by Langston Hughes

It was a long time ago.
I have almost forgotten my dream.
But it was there then,
In front of me,
Bright like a sun–
My dream.
And then the wall rose,
Rose slowly,
Slowly,
Between me and my dream.
Rose until it touched the sky–
The wall.
Shadow.
I am black.
I lie down in the shadow.
No longer the light of my dream before me,
Above me.
Only the thick wall.
Only the shadow.
My hands!
My dark hands!
Break through the wall!
Find my dream!
Help me to shatter this darkness,
To smash this night,
To break this shadow
Into a thousand lights of sun,
Into a thousand whirling dreams
Of sun!

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A special thanks to the talented children of the Children’s Studio School and the Washingtonian Show Stoppers Community Band, just some of the fantastic entertainment that made the celebration exceedingly festive!

A special shout out to Dolan Hubbard, the gentleman pictured above wearing the cool Langston Hughes T-shirt. Mr. Hubbard is a distinguished Professor of English at Morgan State University, the Editor of the Langston Hughes Society Newsletter and Writer/Editor of several scholarly publications on Langston Hughes.

art explosion at the jewel on u and prelude to old man blues

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011On September 18th,  I attended a spectacular revue at the Historic Lincoln Theatre in Washington, D.C. called “Before the Harlem Renaissance, There was U Street”. This program, through dance, song, and poetry, celebrated when  the U Street corridor in D.C.  was known as Black Broadway, a time that predated and fueled the vibrant art and intellectual scene that exploded in Harlem in the 1920’s. This event was one of many that the Lincoln Theatre showcased during the Harlem Renaissance (HR)Festival Celebration that rocked D.C. this past weekend. When I heard about this multi-disciplinary arts tribute taking place, I was ecstatic because the HR is one of my absolute favorite periods in history. I like to fancy that I was actually an eyewitness to those times in some shape or form, perhaps as a flower in Billie Holiday’s hair or the lone teardrop that rolled down her face while she sang Gloomy Sunday. Or maybe I was Langston Hughes’ spilled ink, a black piano key at a Duke Ellington jam session, or the recording device that Zora Neale Hurston used to capture the American spirit through the stories of African-Americans.

http://www.smithsonianchannel.com/site/smithsonian/show_soul_people_audio.do

But then again, maybe I was the gold velvet curtain at the old Lincoln Theatre that was raised just before Ella Fitzgerald took the stage. I can’t be certain, but I know I had to have been in the mix somehow. Being at the show Friday night just felt a little too familiar as I sat at the edge of my seat!   :)

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The very talented Blair Underwood, Jasmine Guy & Isaiah Thomas served as both the hosts and entertainers as they paid tribute to some of the HR greats with pizazz.

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The In Series Theatre Ensemble, Washington Reflections Dance Company, and Smithsonian Jazz Masterworks Orquestra brought the splendor of the era to life.

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One of the tunes that the orchestra played was Old Man Blues. This tune was recorded by Duke Ellington and his Orchestra in 1930 for the motion picture Check and Double Check.

Click below to listen to the original composition played on a victrola :

When the band leader announced they were going to play Old Man Blues, I must admit, based on the title, I anticipated that it would be a bluesy melancholic piece. I closed my eyes preparing to get emotional from an old man pouring out his blues. I was wrong. It was jumpin’! My eyes popped at the sound of the first note. My Muse started dancing to the groove and I followed her lead by immediately jotting down some notes on my program booklet.

And thus, the following poem was born.

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Prelude to Old Man Blues (draft)

Fresh pink flower and jet black curls/ Ruby red paint like Moulin Rouge/ White feather boa and long draped pearls/ Sequins’ silver shine and silk’s sexy smooth/ Fringe stacks and shakes/ Curves and bumps/ Ripped fishnets and MaryJane pumps/ Sweet French perfume with a splash of sweat/ Wet/ Turns & twists/ Leaps, flips, and heaven-bound jumps/ Tease and tap/ Spit and scat/ Swing. Shout. Stomp./ Do wop Do wop Do wop Do Wop deep inside an old  man’s dream / in a dim lit corner uptown at the spot/ with feathers and petals at his feet/lint in his pockets and blues on his back/… the last tune

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Then after the show, I spotted this finely dressed gent! Sharp!

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The best way to describe the experience for me would probably be so unorthodox, so unladylike but I’m gonna say it anyway.  In fact, I’m gonna shout it. It was artistically, supercalifragilisticexpialidociously orgasmic! That’s right! I said it! It was that good–truly a night to remember at the Jewel on U!

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A special shout out to my friends visiting from out-of-town, Althea “Alfie” Dixon and Sharon Rose, who accompanied me to the show.

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For upcoming programming at the Historic Lincoln Theatre, please go to:

http://www.thelincolntheatre.org/

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And that’s a wrap!