Daily Archive

Yesterday Sybil called me to ask me something but then she never really got around to the question.  We mostly talked about the guy I got to help her create the webpage for her hiking group.  She kept repeating, he’s so sweet, he’s just so sweet.

Yeah, I agreed.  He’s also single, good job, own’s his home and has no kids.  Never been married.  He’s physically fit. He’s painfully shy. I was trying to do a soft sale but I was probably pushing it.  She never noticed, I don’t think.

“His family is open minded, too,” I said.  I told her of how he had a sister IR married to a black male and a brother IR married to a Latina.  “They aren’t too worried about race.” I assured.  Then I laughed.  ”I think at this point they just want to get him married off.”

Unfortunately her family doesn’t feel the same way.  I think she’s interested in “Computer Guy” but the fact that he is white is holding her back.  “Considering your age…” I began carefully.  “You know… that you are 40 and you haven’t really been dating of late… don’t you think they will overlook his color and just want you to be happy?  Don’t you think that they will be so glad if you found someone to love you that you can love to –that has a job– that they can forget he’s white?”

She didn’t think so.  “Whenever I go out my mother’s always asking me if he’s black or white.  She just recently told me about a wedding and how there might be some good single black men there.”

“Come on now,” I said disbelieving.  “Your mom?  I mean, she knows you.  How many black guys have you dated in your life?”

“How many guys have I dated period?” she asked.

“See!  And of the handful of guys you have dated most of them have been non-black.  So how can she honestly say that she would expect you to marry a black guy?  I don’t think it would bother her as much.”

“But she asks.”

“Well, I would ask, too,” I said dismissively.  ”Ya know,  folks are gonna ask.”

“But then there’s my Aunt…” Sybil said.  And that is the real crux of the problem.  Her aunt is a bigot and has let everyone know in no uncertain terms how she feels about white people.  Although she was raised by her mother she has been closer to her aunt than her own mother.  She asked her aunt how she would feel if she were to get seriously involved with a non-black male and her aunt told her she didn’t care because she isn’t her child.  But she won’t believe her, mostly because her aunt was so venomous when one of her own children got involved with someone white and had a child with them.  For the longest time the aunt wouldnt’ allow the child in her home and when she did she couldn’t interact with him.  Sybil needs her relationship with her aunt, more than she needs a man at this point or a family of her own.

So we strategized about what she could do about her meeting men.  We thought maybe another friend (also another black female) would be a better match for Computer Guy since she came from a family that didn’t have similar racial hang ups.  We talked about what she learned from previous relationships and what she wanted in life; what were her goals.  I told her I thought she would make a great mom and I hope someday she got to be one. 

We talked about how she was going to see Computer Guy today and how he was so nice.

“You know, I see you are trying to control it but then you date white guys.  If you date white guys then can’t you see the possibility of falling deeply in love with one?”

“Yeah, I see it.”

“But if you fall in love what then?  Will you dump him then because your family will disapprove of him?”

“Oh no,” she said.  “When I’m in love nothing else matters.  When I fall in love its just me and him and I don’t care what anyone else thinks because that is at the forefront of my mind.”

So maybe Computer Guy has a chance yet.  If we can just get him out of his shyness.  I guess we’ll see.

Although founder Larry Leon Hamlin died last month on June 6, the National Black Theatre Festival in Winston Salem, NC goes on.  Hamlin was an inspiration to a lot of African Americans and was probably the impetus for many local black theatre festivals, I know he was with the one I work with.

So if you are interested in black theatre –real black theatre– and you live in the area please go.  Or if you think that black stage shows should all be the ghetto gospel or chicken circuit kind then please go, too.  They shows won’t be there, but you will be surprised at how an August Wilson or Suzan Lori Parks play can effect you. I still think of  “Two Trains Running” from time to time and it’s relevance to the black condition in the 21st century –that and the funny scenes.  There will be production companies from across the country, new playwrights staging plays and the chance to see real stars up close and personal. 

This is us telling our stories the way we tell our stories.  How can you beat that?

Rumors abound about gay black singers but nothing has been proven.

A few years ago there was a rumor about a black neo soul singer who had an album shelved because all the songs were an ode to the singer’s same sex partner.  I’m not sure how true it is, but the singer hasn’t had a cd out in years.

Or the rumor about another R&B singer who threw a tantrum in the recording booth and couldn’t be pacified until their same sex lover came to talk them.  It was said while the singer sang a love song into the mic they stared into each other’s eyes.

And then there’s one about a recently deceased singer.  Throughout the singers life they were never photographed with someone of the opposite sex and rumors floated that the singer had HIV although never proven.  Although gone the singer’s music is still as popular as ever and many in the black community refuse to believe that the singer was anything but heterosexual.

I can go on and on about the rumors and innuendos about certain black singers, rappers and celebrities and how African Americans prefer their entertainers straight or at least keep it undercover.  And many gay black celebrities, who may not go out and get themselves a beard, still play along by keeping their personal lives underwraps and their significant others away from the papparazzi.  They probably know that black consumers may find it hard to go to a movie or watch a tv show where a black male is playing the romantic lead with a woman when they know the male would rather be with another guy.  Or listen to a love song that a woman is singing about a man when they really know she’s probably thinking about a woman.  Its hard to procure a fanbase when your fans could turn on you because of your sexuality.

So I have to give kudos to Donnie.  Recently he outed himself in interviews with bloggers like Jasmine Cannick.  I love his music; he’s a terrific singer.  His music had depth and the man can sing with full emotion.  He’s not mainstream and I dont’ know if he gets any play on Urban Adult Contemporary stations, he doesn’t in my city.  I don’t think the reason he doesn’t get attention isn’t because of his sexuality but because he doesn’t have a cookie cutter sound.

It might be easier for Donnie to tell about himself because he hasn’t gotten to a superstar level yet, but hopefully it won’t keep him from getting there.  And maybe if others see him rise on his talent with people not caring about his private life as much it could get others come out themselves.

I said might.  I’m not that naive.  Accepting black homosexuals in the community we have a long way to go.

 I’m terrified to fly.  There’s nothing you can do to get me on an airplane.  And with that said a few years ago I drove my 15 year old daughter to the airport so she could take her first plane trip to the other side of the country.  My only child showed no fear and was excited about her trip.  When the time came she gave me one last hug, walked onto the plane and didn’t look back.

I have been told that its more dangerous to drive than to fly.  The universe, as if to underscore that fact, had me speaking to two mothers this past weekend who had nearly lost their teen daughters in car accidents where they were hit by drunk drivers.  They tell me about the accidents, their initial anguish, their daughter’s recoveries and therapies all the while we prepare them to send our girls to another continent.  Nothing in their demeanor said that they were nervous about the trip, which will take our kids out of our sight for close to two weeks.  It doesn’t calm me down, it doesn’t make me less nervous but I keep it underwraps as I hold my child tight, kiss her face continuously and then eventually let her go to board the plane.

Life is tenuous.  Things are uncertain.  The rain falls on the wicked and the just (Matthew 5:45) and perhaps the only way to keep ourselves and our loved ones safe is to stay at home behind locked doors.   When I was younger I would wonder about the nature of ants.  How they left their ant hills to scout for food for the rest of the nest.  Even if they left in great numbers it didn’t protect them predators or becoming attached to the bottom of a human’s shoe.  They could get drowned in a river of melted popsicle or scorched underneath the lens of a magnifying glass held by a curious child.  I wondered if they realized what perils they faced just from leaving the security of their nest? Did they understand the dangers?  Or was it something innate that drove them out in search of a stray crumb or dead carcass?

Perhaps the suppression of fear is something that is within all creatures who inhabit this planet.  How many days will go before I hear a terrorist blown himself up in an Iraqi market killing x-amount of civilians.  Who do these citizens have to appeal to that can make their streets safe?  How can one live a normal fear-free life in a place where the terror alert is always on red?  I guess they do because they have to.  This is how we survive.  You realize the dangers or sometimes you remove them from your mind because to live that way will definitely raise your blood pressure or reduce you to a neurotic who hides behind darkened windows and barricaded doors.

But still I am in awe of the resilience of the human spirit.  How we keep going even though we know that the security is really an illusion we create.  People kill, bridges fall, hurricane crash but yet we keep on going.  Like ants we find an alternate route around that river of red popsicle sludge, we gird ourselves against the predators and we wait to see if another shoe does drop on us.  But we believe it won’t. 

I pray for my daughter and her friends.  I pray for the people of Iraq.  I pray for those who lost their loved ones in Minnesota and those who came close to death.  I pray that the veil of inviolability stays strong enough to help us get through another day.

So I just watched the premier of Kimora Lee Simmons’ show Life in the Fab Lane which will air this Sunday at 8pm on The Style Network.  I’ve always found Kimora to be pushy and arrogant and over the top.  She’s like a Blasian version of Naomi Campbell.  I thought I wouldn’t like the show because I don’t particularly like Kimora from what I’ve read in the gossip rags  about her.  I mean the show is basically about her and her character has to carry and you have to like her to want to watch her and who wants to watch a diva being diva-esque.

But I have to say I kind of like it and I will watch another episode when it runs.

Yeah, she’s over the top.  She’s a businesswoman who is about business when dealing with Mattel, advertising execs and her own staff.  She made her PR guy cry and I was like damn.  But she was crunching numbers and stressing out and stressing everyone else out around her.  She’s dieting but when her personal chef made her a fruit parfait she sent it back and asked for waffles instead.  When she kept asking “Am I fat?  Do I look fat?” I wanted to kick her across the room.  No, Kimora, you don’t don’t look fat.  Mo’Nique looks fat,  your skinny behind looks malnourished.  She packed somewhere between 15-20 bags of luggage for a one day photo shoot so she’s extremely extravagant. 

The oddest thing in the show is when Russell came into her office wearing a pink shirt with a green sweater.  The AKA’s ought to beat his behind.

The best part about the show was watching her in her business interactions.  Even though she made people jump and might be labeled a bitch I don’t see her as being much different than Donald Trump.  She seems proud of her ethnicities and the people surrounding her are racially diverse.

And I also loved the tender way she was with her girls.  In the scene with the Mattel execs she was exact and precise about what she wanted and when her daughter Aoki Lee interrupted she was instantly attentive and warm with her.  She’s like a superhyped/overlavished single mom.  I can see gay men everywhere genuflecting in deference as she walks by them.

“I’m normal,” she says in a close up.  “And I’m not normal” The camera pans out to bring in the opulence that is her home.

At least she knows it.  But then who wants normal on television?  If we wanted normal we’d turn off the tube and look out the windo to see what our neighborhood desperate housewives are doing.  But then they are probably at home watching Kimora, too.