GET OUT OF MY HAIR

I have to admit that I’m very excited about the release of Chris Rock’s docu-comedy, Good Hair. At first glance, and I think I may be right, I assume that the film is about women’s obsession with the appearance, texture, color, and sex appeal of our hair with a particular focus on black women. I’ve also assumed that by the title, he would be tackling the concept in the black community of “good hair” only being that hair which is of the same texture and quality of white women. I think he is going to touch on dispelling the myth that the only way for a black woman to be beautiful is by straightening, weaving, or “wigging” her hair in order to hide any hideous kinks that may lurk beneath the lie of it all. Hopefully, I will find that I’m correct when I go to see the movie. And, while I am very excited about Chris Rock, I’m kinda angry with Oprah (what else if new).

Chris was a guest on the Oprah show last week. Against my usual routine, I DVR’d the show so I could hear what he had to say. During the course of the interview, Oprah told Chris she felt that viewing the movie helped to create open dialogue between herself and her white employees with regards to women's hair and the secrets that seem to surround it. She said that many of the Harpo employees were suddenly asking her which of her previous hairstyles had been weaves, wigs, or (gasp) her own hair. She seemed excited about the fact that now they could all sit around and air their dirty hair laundry thanks to Good Hair. Well, I beg to differ. While I absolutely love the idea of this movie and wholly hope that the audiences will be multi-racial, I do not want it to be some cinematic invitation for more random people to start walking up to me and asking me questions about my hair. I’ve always found it annoying and it has often made me feel like an animal in a zoo or a rare piece of art on display in a museum. And, while it’s nice to have others appreciate what beauty and mystery they feel I may possess, I prefer to keep things just that; a mystery.

Regardless of what may be in that movie, I do not feel like having sudden discussions about what kind of products I use or whether or not I wear wigs or where I buy my hair. I don’t want to discuss how my hair went from medium length to shoulder length in a twelve hour span of time. I don’t want to talk about what I use to color my hair. And, I definitely don’t want to talk about how often I wash my hair. I am not a novelty. I am a human being. Though I’ve been locking for a little over a year now, I’ve still kept my affinity for wigs. Each time I’ve worn one, I've gotten a million and one questions about whether or not that’s my real hair or how many hours did I spend “getting it like that” or I get the other annoying statements like, “You know, my granddaughter is bi-racial and she also likes to wear braids.” Ugh. It disgusts me to no end. After being cornered and questioned at the break room sink, I recently told a white co-worker that I was wearing a wig. When I wore that particular wig a few days later, she exclaims in her unreasonably shrill voice, “I LOVE THAT WIG!!!” all while winking at me. Now, I’ve never tried to pass anything other than what I grew myself as my real hair. However, I also don’t arrive at work with a sign attached to my shirt that informs everyone of the synthetic item attached to my scalp. When I thought about it, I realized that it wasn’t the fact that she loudly outted me as a wig wearer that pissed me off the most. It was the fact that it pleased her to know that I, and many other black women she knows, wear wigs. It was as if she felt she had one up on us. She wasn’t operating from a place of interest and desire to connect. She was coming from a place of sheer nosiness with a touch of “hate”.

I’m hoping that when people see this movie, they will no longer feel the need to ask a bunch of stupid questions about me and my hair. I’m hoping they will see enough to quench their curiosity and inform them that some questions just don’t need to be asked.

Say What?

I love grammar. I have since I was a little girl. English was always a subject for which I had passion and I excelled in it. I know everyone doesn't share my love for English spoken and written well, but at the very least, we can make an effort to follow the rules before we write something or allow something to come out of our mouths. Realizing that human error in the form of typos happen, I'm really thinking outside of what spellcheck may be able to catch. There are times a word is spelled correctly but used in the wrong context. There are also times when common phrases are regularly misstated and accepted anyway because people have been saying them wrong for so long. Repeating the wrong thing multiple times has never made it transform into the right thing. Wrong spans time and space. Having said that, I'd like to go ahead and list some of the misused, misspelled, or misstated words and phrases that get my dander up:

• The thing I am typing this blog entry on is called at LAPtop. It is not a LABtop. I would imagine if there were a labtop, it would be the counter on which one would sit a Bunsen burner and a couple of flasks. However, the thing we actually sit on our laps and use for various purposes is called a LAPtop for the most obvious reason.




• You're vs. your - Um, I really feel this is something that should have been covered and understood sometime during the elementary school years. You're is short for YOU ARE while your implies possession such as, "Is this YOUR laptop?" to which one could reply, "No, it isn't mine. YOU'RE mistaken." I know it may seem minute, but using these improperly can cause some real problems for the reader.




• They vs. Their - It is NEVER okay to say, "They just took they stuff and left." It is not, and never will be, "THEY STUFF". It is their stuff. They simply identifies a group of two or more people. Their is possessive and implies to whom the stuff belongs. And as a side note, THERE is a place and is not to be confused with THEIR.




• Library vs. Liberry -The place we sometimes visit with all the wonderful books, cds, and dvds we can check out as long as we have our handy dandy membership card is called a LIBRARY and not a LIBERRY. A library employs the nice lady or man who constantly admonish us to be silent. I don't know what the hell a liberry is, but if I were to take a guess, I'd say it's something that goes between two layers of crust, is baked, and then served with ice cream.




• Ask vs. Axe - When one would like to make an inquiry, one would simply ASK someone for the answer. We do not AX questions as this sounds as if we are lumberjacks out in the Inquiry Woods chopping down questions. This is more than likely something that can happen on Sesame Street but I doubt it would play out in the real world.

• Could vs. Couldn't - When something is so unimportant that one has absolutely no desire to invest any interest in it, it is safe to say that one "COULDN'T care less.". The phrase is not, "I could care less" as this implies that one actually cares. To say one couldn't care less firmly states that one cares so little it is impossible to have any less concern. I hate it when people say this phrase wrong. It's even in a song which annoys me. I mean, to actually write down and record something so off base simply baffles me. If people actually took some time to think about what they are saying, they'd realize how crazy they sound.

• Know vs. No - To know something implies that one has some type of knowledge of a person, place, or thing. "Yes, I KNOW Tom well. He and I went to college together." On the other hand, NO is a negative response to an inquiry as in, "NO, I've never met Tom."

• Rottweiler vs. Rockwilder - Um, I understand that some people feel comfortable saying the wrong thing after saying it for so long but this has to stop. Seriously. If one is to own a pet, it is incredibly important for that person to know how to spell and/or pronounce the name of that pet. That big old dog in the backyard probably chained to a tree is a ROTTWEILER not a ROCKWILDER. There is no dog called a Rockwilder. While I'm at it with the dogs, one can own a Pit Bull but it is highly unlikely that one, especially a city dweller, would own a Pet Bull. One of these is a species of dog while the other is a huge beast with horns and is not exactly a garden variety pet. If, however, anyone reading this is the happy owner of a pet bull and resides in the city, please let me know so I can avoid happy hour in your home.

I totally understand that everyone doesn't feel the same way about language that I do. To some, language is relaxed and open to interpretation. For me, I believe the occasional slang word is okay to insert in a conversation providing the person using the slang knows it is grammatically incorrect. However, there is a difference between use of slang and use of words completely out of context or use of words that simply do not exist. I believe that once we know the difference, our conversations will be taken to a different level and I don't see a thing wrong with that.

Selective Redemption

I haven't had much to say about the whole Mike Vick debacle. Initially I felt that he was definitely guilty of wrongdoing and broke the laws of his state therefore warranting punishment of some sort. However, I really was annoyed that so much was made out of the incident considering professional athletes and celebrities who have shot, killed, beaten, and run HUMANS over with cars. And while I believe that animals should not be subject to cruel treatment at the hands of humans, I also do not hold their lives in the same esteem as that of people. That said, Vick received the punishment the courts assigned him, served his time, and is now trying to go back to some semblance of normalcy which brings me to my rant. I'm very tired of the media and special interest groups trying to analyze this man's every move, word, eye blink, and hand gesture in an attempt to determine if he is really remorseful.

I don't know Mike Vick and probably never will but I feel comfortable in assuming that any reasonable person who commits a crime or facilitates a situation so that others can commit crimes is convicted and serves prison time causing him to lose MILLIONS of dollars, public standing, his reputation, residency in his own home, contact with his very young child, and the respect of many of his peers, he would be be pretty darn sorry about it. As I see it, he lost far more than the world lost when all of those dogs were mutilated, electrocuted, drowned, and beaten. But in all this, what I really wonder is why folks are so up in arms about this man and his bad acts yet people like Andrea Yates can drown all five of her children and garnish sympathy from civil rights groups for women and a mental health watchdog group formed by the Church of Scientology. It was implied that it should be understandable for her to drown her children because she was sick and sad. However, had she killed five dogs instead of five children, that apparently would have been unacceptable. Former Washington D.C. mayor, Marion Barry, was caught on tape smoking crack cocaine, an offense for which he was sentenced to six months in prison, and he also plead guilty to misdemeanor charges stemming from not paying taxes. In spite of all of this, voters still loved him and he was eventually elected to a second term as mayor.

Don't get me wrong, I believe Marion Barry deserved a second chance, though he would not have had my vote. I mean, isn't America the home of second chances? I would think a country formed by folks who needed a new life and a second chance would be sympathetic toward the redemption concept. Barry served his time and made whatever changes were necessary in order for him to get back to his initial standing and now, Michael Vick is doing the same. People advocated for Barry and Yates which causes me to wonder why few seem to be doing the same type of advocating for Mike Vick. The only conclusion I seem to be able to draw is that murder and a mayor crack smoking in a seedy hotel are alright and much less offensive than killing and torturing dogs.

I resent the idea that any of us can judge whether or not another feels remorse. Does everyone have to cry, beg, or engage in some sackcloth and ash action in order to satisfy the public's need to see the humiliation of others? Since none of us know straight away the intentions of others, I think it best we collectively shut up and watch the game.

Get Married Already

During one of my many internet dating experiences, I was approached by a man whose profile stated that he was thirty years old and had four kids. He proudly stated that all four were with the same woman but his marital status showed as “never married”. The old-fashioned part of me kicked in and had me wondering how he had the nerve to be bragging about having four children with a woman he didn’t think enough of to marry. Logically, I know that marriage isn’t everything. Contrary to the belief of some, it does not cure all and it is not the answer to all romantic or family queries. However, this guy’s situation, along with all the other scenarios I see around me, cause me to wonder what people have against marrying one another before making a bunch of babies.

I’ve never been one to believe that a man and a woman should marry just because of a pregnancy. If anything, it can make matters worse if those two people are not ready for such a commitment or if the sole basis of the marriage is the impending birth of their child. I don’t think it’s of any benefit to the child to have two parents in the home who don’t like or love one another much. And while I love the idea of the two parent household, I think it’s better that a child see parents with integrity and dedication to parenting that child in the best way possible while living separately than it is for him to see two miserable people in possession of a marriage license. That isn’t to say that I think marriage is a miserable institution, but it certainly can be when the wrong people marry one another.

Having said all that, I still wonder what people who are supposedly in love and involved in a love relationship have against getting married prior to starting a family or why others have baby after baby and then decide to break up without having ever tried their hand at marriage. I’ve heard various explanations from people I know ranging from, “I always knew she wasn’t the one for me (2 babies later)” to “I’m not ready to do all of that so I’ll just stay engaged for a while”. How is one ready to have a baby with his/her lover but not ready to marry that person? How can one even think about procreating with someone she will have to spend a lifetime co-parenting with and not have any thoughts on marrying this man? How does one have multiple babies with someone all the while knowing that he or she is not a romantic match? Doesn’t anyone take marriage or their children into consideration anymore?

Understanding that we live in a society of free-minded, non-judgmental, liberal individuals whose life choices are not always the same as mine, I wonder why we have come to view marriage as a form of imprisonment instead of an affirmation of the love and commitment that we freely give to another person. I don’t believe marriage is a trap unless one is married to the wrong person. And if one doesn’t think his/her partner is marriage material, then what is the point of making babies with that person? I guess I just can’t see the logic in having children with someone I don’t want to marry (foolish indiscretions resulting in a surprise pregnancy aside).

As I spend time trying to understand this new phenomenon, I will gleefully remain un-pregnant, unmarried, and unwilling to change the former without the latter.

Stop Or I'll Shoot

Now, I've heard the saying about stupid people bringing knives to gun fights but I have never heard of bringing semi-automatic weaponry to a health care debate. Unfortunately, the new trend seems to be attempting to threaten the President of The United States of America during his push for universal health care by bringing gigantic guns to his town hall meetings. While watching the news yesterday, I saw an idiot wearing a shirt and tie with a large gun on his shoulder and a smaller one on his hip. He chose not to identify himself to the media although he thought he was badass enough to show up to a discussion about health care with two guns attached to his body (can you say, "punk"?). His words were:

"I'm absolutely, totally against health care, health care in this way, in this manner," he said. "Stealing it from people, I don't think that's appropriate."

Um, that's all well and good but no part of him thought it was inappropriate to show up at a Presidential town hall meeting brandishing two weapons? Perhaps it would make more sense to my inner hillbilly if I could see a connection between health care and the right to bear arms. But, try as I might, my little brain just can't marry these two concepts. The only thing I see are people threatening the President in a not so subtle way all under the cloak of the second amendment. I know everything isn't racial, but many things are and I can't help but think that had I shown up at a G.W. Bush health care town hall meeting with a gun strapped to my little brown leg, I would have been tackled, beaten up, and spat upon even with an NRA card, registration card, and a note from my momma. So, I suppose what I'm really wondering is, why the life and safety of President Obama seems to be of less importance than the life, health, and welfare of all previous U.S. presidents. I think I already know the answer to that which is ultimately what has me shaking my head.

Jimmy CHOOsy Lover

To say I love shoes would be a gross understatement. There's something about the way they smell when I open the box and remove them at the shoe store. And, obviously, there is something about the way they feel on my foot. More than that, there is something about the way they make me feel. I don't just limit myself to one type of shoe. While I love stilettos the most, I also love a cute flat and an old school pair of shelltoes. There are so many choices; ankle straps, t-straps, Mary Janes, ankle boots, knee boots, pumps, round toes, square toes, pointy toes...you get my point. But regardless of the variety of shoes I love, some things remain consistent in my choices; they have to be a good fit, they can't hurt my foot, and they have to be good quality. These rules apply whether I'm wearing a four inch stiletto or a platinum colored flat. Yeah, the shoes are very different in appearance, but they still serve the same purpose; to make me look and feel good.

When I'm in a shoe store with no real purpose in mind, I often look until a pair speaks to me. They sit on the display rack and the mere sight of them conjures up a vision of me wearing them with an outfit just as fabulous as the shoes. They are made to work in concert in order to help me achieve my best look. I stare, I contemplate, I check to see if the store has my size, I try on the shoes, I walk around in them, and finally, I purchase them provided they pass all the tests. So, it's quite obvious that I'm very choosy about my shoe game and because I love shoes so much, I take the time required to make the right choice.

In thinking about how I feel when it comes to my shoes, I wonder why it is people like me put more effort into buying the things we love than we do into choosing the people we love. I like variety in men just like I do in my shoes. Some have been tall, some of average height. Some men have athletic builds while some may have a few extra pounds or are just plain skinny. Complexions have ranged from the fairest to the smoothest of dark chocolates (my absolute favorite). However, regardless of the difference in physical appearances, my expectations of those I date are no different than what I expect from a pair of shoes. He has to be a good fit, he can't hurt me, and he has to be of the highest quality.

In my conversations with women of the previous generation, I'm told that in my older age my list of preferences will grow shorter as my level of loneliness increases. I'm told that I'll stop my desire to have a man with wit and good humour and instead settle for the things on my short list like a job and all of his own teeth. And, when I look at the choices some of those women have made, I am convinced that this theory is clearly true for some. However, in the interest of raging against the machine, I don't believe it has to be this way. It makes absolutely no sense for me to ever take more care as to what I put on my foot than I do as to who I put in my heart. If a pair doesn't work and doesn't meet the requirements, they stay in the store. The fact that they are a nice color and marked down by 75% doesn't change a thing. Simply being cheap isn't reason enough to lower my expectations. It's not that way with shoes and it sure as hell shouldn't be that way with love. It is my fervent belief that we completely short change ourselves of our true happiness by assuming our age means we have to settle for the most basic needs that feed our bellies but don't satisfy our hearts. Sure, a working man is definitely a good thing just like a pair of Payless Shoe Source specials can serve to cover the foot. But when it really comes down to it, we should want Jimmy Choo in a mate, not just a pair of two dollar flip flops from Wal Mart. Sure, they can come through for you in an absolute fashion crunch, but they are usually only good for one wear before they start to fall apart and give you corns.

I know that people think I'm unreasonable to insist that we hold on to our standards regardless of the passing of time and the graying of our hair, but I believe wholeheartedly that if a man is the right one at age twenty but I don't meet him until age forty, he's still the right one for me. While I can't speak for anyone else, I refuse to settle for anything less than the absolute perfect pair.

Killer P*ssy

I tried to wait for a respectable amount of time to pass before speaking on this, and now I feel I've held my tongue long enough. Let me first say, I think it is sad and tragic that Steve McNair was murdered. I always think it unfair and evil for one person to decide that another need not live any longer. Who are any of us to decide someone should die over anything other than a case of self-defense? Regardless of the circumstances in her life, Sahel Kazemi had no right to decide that Steve McNair should die. It was not within her authority to take him away from his loved ones just because of her raging insecurities and personal financial issues. NOW, having said that, I would be remiss if I didn't speak on what I consider to be his part in all of this.

Unlike those who I consider to be mean and hateful, I don't think Steve McNair "got what he deserved". I find it entirely too cruel to say a thing like that about someone who was brutally murdered. I do, however, think that Steve fell prey to the fallout from his bad choices. He certainly wasn't the first man or woman to make a choice in a love interest that was way less than savory. I've dated cheaters, liars, those who were criminal-minded, some who were just shiftless, and even a few who had the potential to raise a hand and slap me with it. It is no more than the grace of God that kept me from being injured or financially impacted for a lifetime. And now, as I grow older, it is the wisdom God gave me that keeps me from returning to those same pitfalls. Like my mama always told me, "When you know better, you've got to do better". Sure, I could still be dating Mr. Married And Unavailable or Mr. Good Lovin' With No Job but why would I? My life experiences have taught me that neither one of those men are any good for me and that my life can in no way be enriched by dating those clowns. My self-respect, safety, and personal growth have become too valuable to me to be wasted on a man who is wack instead of wonderful. Unfortunately we all have moments when we forget ourselves. We come down with a temporary case of relationship amnesia and revert to old ways and old choices. Mr. Raggedy or Miss. Good For One Thing Only start to look good to us again. I find that this usually happens when we are depressed and feeling insecure about ourselves. There are few things that better provide us with a shallow sense of security than getting involved with someone who needs us because he is doing far worse than we are. We can throw a bone to a sorry woman and watch how it changes her life while patting ourselves on the back. It feels like a win win until the consequences start to surface.

I don't know Steve McNair's personal situation. I don't know exactly what was happening between he and his wife and I don't know what personal issues he may have been experiencing as a result of his retirement from the only career he knew. I won't even pretend to understand his plight. However, what I do understand is that he made a choice. While he probably never thought the woman he'd been wooing would murder him, he probably did know that she was wack. I mean, how often do we date someone and not know? There are always signs along the way that we choose to ignore, usually for our own selfish purposes. We suck it up for good looks, amazing sex, financial gain, or ego stroking. The downside is that these benefits are only temporary and none of those things are made to cure the very real problems we have before entering into an unhealthy relationship. For these choices, there are always consequences. The bad thing is that for Steve, the result of his choice was the loss of his life and that, to me, is the worst price to have to pay for a foolish decision.

I believe the true lesson for the living is to really consider the cost before we decide who to let into our lives. Is that sorry man or woman really the answer to our depression problem? Is a sugar daddy really who I need to date in order to get over my work furlough hump? Though I know it is easier said than done, it is a really good idea to think about what one would really be giving up for short lived pleasures. Usually one will find that it's definitely not worth it. The aftermath almost always outweighs the benefits and that's the kind of economics no man or woman can afford.