Peace On Earth . . .

. . . and goodwill to all men. Of course in gender conscious America, we must add women--goodwill to men and women. Okay. The focus should be on the peace. Christmas 2009 has been the best Christmas for me since childhood. So what happened? Peace. The main element in the angels’ proclamation of the Christ-child. After many years of disillusionment with the commercialization of this most sacred observance, I am feted with the true Spirit of the season. 

It has been a most awesome day; unplanned and truly a gift. No shopping, no tree, no artificial stimulation. As I said my prayers before bed--well past midnight, the Mass at St. Peter's in Rome was being broadcast. The three of us had a prayer around noon today. I read 1 John 4 and 5, and then meditated for a while.  Peace on earth. No January credit card bills. No melancholy while taking down decorations.  Peace on earth and I wish goodwill to all men--and women. 

May the Spirit of Christmas be with all men--and women--throughout the year. I believe Jesus want it that way. 

Happy New Year!

Is Michael Jackson Really Dead?

I'm just going to put the question out there. Is Michael Jackson really dead? I am watching the Larry King Show with the four remaining members of the original Jackson 5 singing quintet. One of the show's revelations was the announcement of the Jackson Family Dynasty Reality Show.  King showed a segment of the show where Jermaine breaks down as he explain the emotions he felt when he stayed with Motown. A move that saw the separation of the formidable group.

If you saw the show, you should have been struck by the giddiness of these grown men, self acknowledged (with the exception of Jackie) grandfathers. At no time do any of them break down when talking about Michael. With respect to the family, I really hope I am right. I hope Michael is somewhere living in peace. The brothers were unnaturally happy. Maybe Joe wasn't off his rocker when he said, Michael is going to be worth more dead than alive.

In another time and place the thought of a wag the dog scenario would be labeled totally ludicrous, but this is America, land of the Missourians. Where money walks, talks, makes, and breaks the rules.

If Michael is live, it is quite all right by me.  Sometimes you just need to chill before saying goodnight.

And that it is okay.

Don't Do It . . .

By now everyone with a desire to do so, has taken a whack at Tiger. Why do we gloat so when (the smallest expression of our joy) when the mighty falls? We secretly envy and are jealous of those individuals who find that gift that 'maketh rich’. You know that God-given talent that causes the rest of us to interrupt our pursuit of our God-given talent to ooh and aw the Beyounces, Tigers, and Lebrons of the world.

So when a chink in their otherwise, heretofore, seamless persona manifests, we gloat. Riveted by the latest breaking news story, we are entertained by the wit of the late-night talk show hosts, and the matter-of-fact disclosures of the morning shows. In the interim, we hold our own court of public opinion. All the while secretly saying to ourselves, "Self, good for him; I am sure he deserves what he gets." 

Here is my advise to one and all, don't do it. There is that little gossip demon that neither sleeps nor slumbers. Resist the temptation to hurl insults (it is just as insulting if you are laughing). If this advice is too late, then you have to repent. I did. Sure, I am as prone to falling from grace as any mere mortal, but I have a healthy respect for the Ultimate Authority. You see, when you know better, better is required of you. And I know better. Most importantly the UA knows I know better. So I had to repent, and promised to take the high road. There is a lesson that I learned along the way: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. And the b-side to that lesson is judge no thing before its time. Translated it means, God is not finished with any of us yet. So if you do not want to be found in that unenviable position of accusing something (someone) God plans to bless, then it is best you sit on it, cross your legs, zip it, and find something to distract you. You know there is a cousin to the aforementioned truism, "judge not and be not judged."

Hey I know its tough. Mr. Woods' actions over the years certainly have not endeared him to the Black community with him relegating his Afri-centric bloodline to the bottom of the totem pole. I have seen the alleged not fit for prime-time photos. Were they pics of the Misses or a close look-alike? I don't know. But so what? We are all responsible for our own actions. I have decided to do the right thing, which is to pray for this family. If we indeed are our brother's keeper and we see a brother in distress, it is our responsibility to throw him a life jacket. I would want someone to throw me one, wouldn’t you?

Merry Christmas!

Peace on Earth and goodwill to all men and women (the rich as well as the poor).   

See You Next Year!

So we have said good-bye to the relatives. Some people call them outlaws. Fortunately my relations and I are not on those terms. We had a pleasant visit. Our lifestyle is rather mundane; and kids always add an element of excitement. There was the two-year old who could very well had been Bernie Mac's niece. You remember the one from his King of Comedy performance; the two-year old who looked at him like he was small. Well this was one of those. She would snatch away and roll her eyes at me like she had a death wish. During one of our many encounters, I told her, "You better call on Jesus, because I am getting ready to get you." You must understand. She is highly intelligent. She understands and comprehends with amazing clarity; and depth that is well beyond normal realm  of a two-year old. Well, if someone tells you, you better call on Jesus, you are going to call on Jesus. And this little two-year old in all of her defiance says, "Jesus." At that point all I could do was give her a big hug and she hugs me back. What the world needs is more love. By the way she turned two, the day after Thanksgiving.

Then there is her four-year old brother. He has held a fascination for cars since he was able to know what a car is. After he comes downstairs reeking of my perfume, my husband with his own propensity for locks on doors, ran upstairs and commenced to locking all the doors. So he locks the bedroom the Mom is sleeping in and places the key over the doorframe. The next morning we are awaken by a loud noise in the hall. The four-year old, who unbeknownst to us, had heard the conversation. He finds our stepladder, drags it up the stairs--a flight and a half--and was in the process of getting the key from over the door. He said he wanted to unlock the door. What other reason for a key?

Did I say we truly enjoyed their visit? Not wanting them to over sleep and run the risk of leaving later than their scheduled ETD, we staged a vigil on their behalf. God forbid they should over sleep. We, therefore, sacrificed our sleep and stayed up all night. When the appointed time arrived, my slow moving husband jumps up out of the recliner where he had perched for night, and ran upstairs to wake our guests. Mind you he had packed much of their things, the night before and set them out on the back porch. 

So when 4 a.m. Sunday arrived (probably bout the time Jesus rose that long ago Sunday morning), we all gathered in the kitchen, at the back door. We blessed them, bade them journey mercies, and adios. As the kids were leaving, they would ask about a certain toy and try to come back into the house to look for it. No. That was not okay! Everything was packed and there was no coming back in. 

Good-bye! 

See you next year!  

Merry Christmas!

Love you!

Here's the Skinny

Okay. One holiday down and one to go. What is so daunting about that? A mere two days out of 365. Well, as we all know, those two days stretches from the 20 something of November through December to January 1--every year. The problem is, we eat--more than usual for six-weeks straight. Like most Americans I over indulged on November 26. If I am honest, I will admit that I started sampling the week before. That's the problem with getting an early start on the cooking--you also get an early start on the eating.

Okay,  so this is what I ate:

Two slices of slap yo' momma cheese cake
Two slices of if yo' butt don't spread, the cook didn't follow the recipe--pound cake
Half of a mint chocolate chip, chocolate-chocolate chip, Oreo crust ice cream pie
 (of course the ice was from Honey Hut!), and
A slice of sweet potato pie.

Now here is the game plan. If I run on the treadmill and burn 350 calories each session, and do not consume any more calories than absolutely necessary to keep from lapsing into a coma from a low blood sugar level, I should--theoretically--be able to burn those calories off in less than two weeks.

So, I am off to the basement for session one.

Ciao, Bella!  Merry Christmas!

This is definitely, okay.
(Okay, there was lemon custard that accompanied the pound cake!)

Condiments Anyone?

My friend is back on the mainland from Hawaii for the holidays. One of her major complaints--and trust me, I have heard them ALL--was having to ask for condiments. Be it McDonald's, Burger King, or a Chinese restaurant, she would have to ask for ketchup or soy sauce. Who does that? And why is that okay? Mind you, when she asked for the condiment that should come with the meal, she would get a scowl and a single packet of whatever she requested.   

Showing me her booty, she comments, “you would think they have been beat down about this stuff.” Referring to the ridiculous amount of soy sauce they have gave her.  They probably would not have been so generous were they in our 50th state.

Why are we having this little discourse? She just returned from picking up Chinese food and literally comes back with a bag of soy sauce--something unheard of in Hawaii. The saddest part of this little tale is that she cannot collect her windfall for the trip home. Remember, baggage space is at a premium these days.

Aloha!

Who was that person on TMZ?

Is it okay that your lips are bigger than your boobs?

Oprah Show leaving the air... again

There are seven billion plus people on the planet. Other than employees and advertisers, what percentage of the 'plus' (we need not concern ourselves with the 7 billion) will this move impact? Give it to Ms. Winfrey and company, they know the marketing game. "Retirement" talk should eradicate the reported 7 percent ratings slip and lift the program from its nosedive long enough for the talk show moGal to make another billion.

And that's okay. Do what you do, O!

Do Women Fall In Love With Men?

Of course, women fall in love with men! But you know what? It is truly okay if they do not. Why? Glad you asked. Because God says so. Stay with me and hold that thought. I do not believe most women marry for love. Back in the day, a woman was definitely prone to marry for security, convenience (my mom), and perhaps companionship. Has much changed?
There is a scripture that says a man should love his wife as his own body; and the woman should respect the man (her husband). So there you have it. It is perfectly all right if you married that man for any reason other than love. However, it is not all right if you do not respect him. Sorry, ladies. It may have been easier if you were commanded to love him.

Talk to me.