Around What Does Your Revolution Revolve?

In my generation it seems to be fashionable, fancy, fun, and cutting edge to speak about REVOLUTION. I mean, after all, many of the most prominent figures in African American history were revolutionaries. It sounds cool to bring up in conversation or conjure up in a poem the names of Mary McLeod Bethune, Sojourner Truth, Harriet Tubman 0r Brother Malcolm and there's nothing better than feeling extra smart and enlightened in front of a bunch of lessors. However, I've gotta say that all the talk is meaningless if there is no action following the gum flapping.

Gil said that the revolution wouldn't be televised. Unfortunately, he didn't tell me that it also won't be on the radio, in the newspaper, in blogs, in community centers, in government agencies, in our actions, or even in churches. He didn't tell me that the revolution would be invisible. Left to our own devices my generation seems inspired to speak yet uninspired to act upon those words. We talk an amazing game, but have nothing to back it up. In thinking about many of the people I know who love to holler out the word, REVOLUTION, I can think of a small few, if any really, who are actually turning the revolutionary wheel. Almost nobody volunteers in their respective communities. Nobody is tutoring. Nobody is mentoring. Nobody is feeding the hungry. Nobody is caring for the elderly. Nobody is starting a business. Nobody is donating money. And so, I have to ask, if one is so damned revolutionary, around what does that revolution revolve? What is at the center of this imaginary revolution I keep hearing about?

We scream revolution every chance we get yet we can't even manage to get young brothas to pull up their pants and stop providing unsolicited peep shows to the unfortunate souls around them. We pump our tightly balled fists in the air while wearing a black glove but we can't wait to put our arms down so we can run home to watch the latest booty shakin' video on BET. We extol the virtues of the beautiful revolutionary black woman but can't stop ourselves from calling her a ho or bitch. So, again, I'm trying to figure out around what this revolution I keep hearing about revolves? Sure, lighting incense is nice. Wearing one's hair in it's natural state is great. Putting some black art up on the walls is chic. However, what does any of that mean when it's time for action?

If the goal is truly to be revolutionary, then we can shock the world by doing the unimaginable. We can shut our mouths and get to work. It's hard to be revolutionary when one is talking all the time instead of doing. Let's put down the facade and pick up the real work. Now that is revolutionary.

They Don't Date No Mo'

Corny as it sounds, when I watched Happy Days as a kid I always thought Joanie and Richie's realities would someday be mine as well. Every Friday or Saturday night they seemed to be getting ready for a date. For some reason I took this to mean that as a teen/young adult, I'd have some kind of social calendar marked with steady dates. Boy was I mistaken. While I'm sure at some time people went on dates on a regular basis, it seems that in 2008 a date is an anomaly of sorts. At the overly ripe age of thirty four, I could probably count the number of actual dates I've had outside of the two or three boyfriends I've had in adulthood. I have to believe that something is wrong with that. So now I'm wondering what happened to the age old custom of dating. Of course I considered all the possibilities first; maybe I'm not very attractive, perhaps it's my ongoing disagreement with my bulging belly, or maybe I just don't seem all that interesting. However, at the risk of sounding unrealistically confident, I have to say that I don't think this change in tradition has anything at all to do with me. Removing myself from the equation still enables me to see the many young, attractive, intelligent, responsible, funny, and ambitious women I know who seem like viable choices on paper but suffer from consistent datelessness.

So, after all this pondering I still can't seem to pinpoint one specific reason why there is a dating drought these days but I do feel there may be several factors contributing to the demise of the Friday night date.

Young people no longer seem to socialized to date. Sure, lots of young people, particularly the young men, are encouraged to play the field but while that term once meant to wine and dine many different women until he could get his fill, it now seems to mean sleep with as many women as you can without spending a dime. How a date in the "olden" days used to consist of food and drink and perhaps a movie has changed to a glass of juice, a rented movie, and some pillow play. The whole idea of what constitutes a "date" has changed.

Now, people no longer date to see if they like a person. Now, they drink the juice, watch the movie and get naked then decide whether or not the person is likable and worthy of an "out in the public, real live, date". Somehow, we ended up functioning in reverse and backwards has become the new sensible. I haven't gotten there yet and am trying my very best to avoid coming along for the ride. Besides, I have found it incredibly difficult and mind numbing to get a cart to pull a horse.

Perhaps a little of it is the economy. I'm sure that at one point one could have had a good date with $25 (back when stamps were still around ten cents). Nowadays, a movie for two is $20 not to mention the additional $10- $15 it costs to buy snacks. Then dinner is going to be another $40 for a cheap restaurnt. I can understand why a man would wanna be sure about liking a woman before spending such a large amount of money. However, there are other ways to enjoy a cost effective date without completely blowing the budget. There are coffee dates, dessert dates, going for a walk and eating some ice cream dates, and even sitting on a park bench with a hot dog dates. I figure if a man is curious enough about me, he'll suggest one of those at the very least.

I think single people are also jaded these days. Traditional dating has gotten such bad press that folks are too busy trying to protect their over sized egos to take someone out. They figure paying for a date would kill their reputations and set them up to have some unsavory person take advantage of their kindness. Sure, the worst does happen sometimes but I refuse to believe that it's all the time. I think that if more people at least invested more time (before more money) talking to and getting to know a person, they wouldn't have to be so afraid about spending some money on dinner or some other type of activity.

Even though I know that many people seem bitter, upset, untrained, and downright illogical about the concept of "the date", I still cling to my old-fashioned, Happy Days ways and cling to the hope that I'll begin to have them more than once in a blue moon. I believe that if single people really want to, we can improve upon the bad name that dating has gotten. We'd probably all have better success with relationships if we spent more time talking and dating each other instead of quickly hopping into Horizontal Happyland. I believe dating can be good for the soul.

Woooosaaaa...

I'm exhausted. I feel like I haven't slept the best sleep in at least six months or taken a proper deep breath in the past eighteen. I already feel that it's cliche, but I really didn't ever think I would live to see the day when a black man would be preparing to lead my country. While his blackness certainly didn't dictate my vote, I can definitely say that a combination of his platform and swagger certainly did. The fact that he looks like he could be in my family is simply frosting on an already delicious cake.

He seems unflappable but not unmoved by the perplexing circumstances that surround him. He can seem stoic but also possesses the ability to comfort someone with a sincere touch. Nope, the brotha doesn't walk on water and I sure as hell don't want him to. That's what we have Jesus for. Now we have Obama for something else entirely.

Admittedly, I felt proud when I watched him walk out onto the stage, game face on, standing confidently behind that podium, testicles well intact (no thanks to Jesse). His look implied he had his mind on his mission and the desire to give the American public real talk about the work ahead. I came across people age 50+ who were registering and voting for the first time. I also came across some who hadn't bothered casting a ballot in years because the disenfranchisement had settled deep into their souls. So, while seeing him on that stage made me cry from amazement at what the American public was able to do simply by choosing to engage in the political process, I was also afraid and sad.

Nope, it wasn't the kind of fear on which his opposition seemed to have been running for the past eight years. It was the kind of fear that worries about the safety of my President-Elect. It was fear based on logic and the knowledge of the truth that while many support him, many who are angry, bitter, resentful, and even narrow-minded may seek to harm him instead of just resolving to disagree with his views. I felt sad that his every triumph as well as every misstep will be scrutinized to the point of oblivion. I shook my head at the possibility of black leaders attempting to hold him solely responsible for the plight of African-Americans in my country all the while expecting some type of hand out or hook up based on skin tone alone. I felt sad that he inherited a financial disaster and diplomatic disappointment. Despite my fears about what may happen, I knew in my heart that no matter how heartfelt and real his intentions are, he would be successful in my book if he managed to accomplish one third of what he wants to do within a four year span. I will say, however, that although I remain realistic about my expectations of what's ahead, my pride and excitement far outweighed my fear and sadness.

Today I got to witness history. I got to see something that I always thought of as an impossibility in my lifetime on this earth. Today I got to go to my polling place and fill in a bubble for someone I honestly believe. For the first time since I was old enough to vote, I drove away from that polling place feeling as if what I'd just done truly mattered. So, even though I'm a little nervous about his safety and the safety of all his appendages, I am more than hopeful about the direction the country in which I live will take during the next four years. I'm hopeful that that which is now reality will change and a new reality will spring up in its place. I am positive that we will be better off because of it.