Happy Birthday Harriet!

Has it been four years already? 

Yes, Harriet is a Leap Year Baby, born on February 29^th.  Well she’s not a baby anymore.  She is a wonderful friend, a contemporary of mine and our other friends.

Last year, when she didn’t have a birthday, friends were on the telephone back and forth, planning.  It was all about trying to arrange something special to recognize the day that wouldn’t be.  The idea was to pick her up shortly after 11:00 P.M. the night of February 28th.  We would chauffer her to an all night diner.  There a late snack and good conversation would take us through the midnight hour into the first day of March and perhaps a very early breakfast.  What a fun memory for her to have.

It turned out the idea, exciting to think about doing, was not totally appealing to the mature partygoers we all had become.

“Hmmm, I don’t know.  I eat early.  I don’t like eating when it gets so late.”

“It will be cold.  There’s still a lot of snow hanging around.  The night air is not good for me.”

“I really don’t like leaving my place so late at night.  And I’m not at all comfortable coming home even later, after my neighbors are in bed, their homes dark."

We didn't do the midnight gathering.  I’m not remembering if we took her to breakfast the next morning.  Most likely we did.   It’s one of our favorite ways we celebrate each other’s birthday anniversary.

Until I met Harriet, I never knew anyone who was born on February 29^th.   How neat it is to let her know I think she is as special as her birthday.

Happy Birthday To You, Harriet!   And Many Blessings . . .

Fulfill Your Ambition

I heard Kathy Lee say to Hoda one morning and thus to me a viewer, “Everybody’s got a book”.   To me, it wasn't like, “How wonderful! Everybody has a book!” My ears heard disdain in the tone of her words.  So I was not a happy listener.   I was an insecure first-time author.  Black Star Girl, my award winning memoir remained essentially unknown to the book reading public.  But I knew the truth in the TV star's comment.  I sensed virtually the same discouraging observation several months earlier.  It was when an acclaimed local politician, speaking the night following my crowd-pleasing presentation, in a matter-of-fact, disparaging way said,  (almost as soon as he took the microphone) “There are over 40,000 new books authored every year.”  Nothing he talked about afterwards had a thing to do with writing or publishing.  But, all day the convention center had been abuzz about, me, the new author who had spoken 'last night', so perhaps that inspired his opening statement.  Still nothing could erase the pride this unknown personality held for having written a book and for it being so well received by those wonderful people.

My ambition wasn't to become a writer.  I was a business woman.  I did want to share my unique experiences as a black person living in America in the 20^th Century.  Doing so, I just might help others.  The best way for me to do that was to write about it all.   Documenting stories taken from real life would show youngsters and young adult readers how problems can be avoided or overcome and success is possible; the stories would sustain those being challenged, inspire individual perseverance, and strengthen constructive self-determination. 

My editors found Black Star Girl to be told in a strong voice and story telling style to inspire young and old; a social-historical documentary; an African American and women’s history.  Black Star Girl received the publisher's Editor’s Choice award.  And, having written the book, I've documented the information I wanted to share with with family and strangers.  I'm happy about that.

I encourage you to write if you’ve a desire to do so.  There is room in our world for your book, also.

The Oscars and More

As someone on a social media site implied, about halfway through last nights heavily pre-hyped extravaganza, “If I was in the audience I don’t know if I would still be there.”   I was bored as well.

It seemed as if the movie industry entertained itself while giving the TV audience the privilege of looking in on their fun. 

The film clips of the Oscar nominated best pictures were quite brief.  A few of the snippets showcasing the acting nominees weren’t provocative enough to let me determine whether they were professional thespians or in a high school play.

Were the nominated songs performed?  Who won? 

And the fashionable attire of the lovely women falling apart (one way or another) revealing more than propriety warrants . . .  guaranteeing the ultimate in news coverage for the next few days . . . has become predictable.  It’s most aggravating listening to the ‘shocked’ entertainment news heads ply us with his or her  “did you see what everyone is talking about” observations.

I’ve seen just two of the films that received nominations.  Those two took home Oscars.  I liked both movies.  I had hoped to see another particular Oscar nominated movie, but I haven’t been able to fit in a trip to the cinema, yet. I truly look forward to seeing it on the big screen. It was an Oscar winner also.  Otherwise, for the others, I’ll wait for TV or DVD viewing.

Last spring, listening to a discussion about the challenges of the American economy I heard something that fascinated me.  It still does.  A learned person, in answer to the question, said one of America’s best exports, in this global economy, is entertainment. 

It's my opinion that the Entertainment Industry plays an important role in America’s economy, period.  Just think about it!

Pugslee Woods Blue

Pugslee-9 Yrs. Old

  A tribute to a dog's life:   July 4, 1997 –       February 24, 2009

After much deliberation and begging a uniquely beautiful puppy entered our lives in the waning days of summer, 1997.

The grandchildren wanted a puppy.  Their mother said it would be too much for her to handle considering a constantly busy schedule. After all, her little boy and girl were just four and six years old.  Plus, she told them, “Mom doesn’t want a dog in this house.”   Oh yes I do”, this grandmother said.  “It would be really nice to have another dog.”  There had been only cats after their beloved ‘humane society collie’, Angel died many years ago. Still, their mother, certain she shouldn’t take on the responsibility, told her children, “No puppy now. We’ll wait until you’re older.”

Days passed and the grandmother was prompted to admit she wanted a dog. She would get herself a bulldog.  He would be for everyone to enjoy while all the responsibility for the new pet would be hers. Eventually, one Saturday afternoon she and her two grandchildren found their bulldog in a retail pet store on Lexington Avenue in New York City.  He wasn’t cheap.  Bulldogs never are.  The grandmother laughed and told her grandchildren he wasn’t as expensive as their mother and uncle had been.  And he would be the precious new child in her family.

Well, everyone helped groom, feed, water, and walk Pugslee.  But it was the grandmother’s intense attention that got him trained to do his business outside.  It wasn’t difficult since their mother bought Pugslee the most gigantic cage which sat in the dining room, unless company was coming.  Once Pugslee was let out of his cage he was immediately taken outdoors.  Oh, he had a number of gross ‘accidents’.   The worst was when he would go upstairs, specifically it seemed, to do #2 under one of the kids’ beds.  He did it enough times for them to know it was a preference that had to be changed. It was. 

Pugslee was an energetic, intelligent and fun family pet with full run of the house. His lifetime diet was Bil-Jac dog food.  He thrived eating that one product just as the Veterinarian had told them he could. They never fed him table food.  He fed himself table food whenever he got the chance.  For example, Pugslee could snatch a buttered bagel from the breakfast plate as soon as the unsuspecting boy or girl turned aside.  He was a great travel companion no matter the length of the road trip – was accommodated in many a hotel or motel. 

Today is the three-year anniversary of having to say good-bye to that loving dog.  It was his heart, old age really.  The next day he had his final journey.  He was driven out to Ohio and laid to rest where he had enjoyed many summer vacations with his family.

I think all who knew Pugslee will never forget him.

(See my January 23^rd blog post, Blue Monday, for the story of why he was named Pugslee Woods Blue.)

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Have a good weekend.  I will return on Monday

Thank You

I’ve not long returned from a Black History Program held at a cultural center in town. The presentation and discussion centered on a current best seller, Warmth of Other Suns.  This award winning, highly acclaimed book is the first book written by Pulitzer Prize winning journalist, Isabel Wilkerson.  An interested and responsive crowd made it an enjoyable time.  And, I was so impressed with what I heard that I will order the book.

However, there was also an opportunity for me to speak about my first book, Black Star Girl.  All day I had been thinking if there was an appropriate opening I would somehow introduce my socially and historically relevant writing to what I felt would be a rather large gathering.  I was not at all confident about doing so, but I did!  Now, I’ll forever remember the absolutely best part of the evening being the ovation given following my spontaneous contribution.  God is Good.  I am grateful.

Pampering - For Ladies Only

I remember watching “Everybody Loves Raymond” one particular night.  It was a bedtime scene.   His wife, sitting on the side of the bed, talking to her husband methodically rubbed lotion into her arms, neck, shoulders. She was just out of the shower, dressed for bed, talking with him, dissecting one of his silly rationales that would leave her home alone with their three children while he was out having fun.  Still, she was massaging that lotion slowly and purposefully into her skin.

The scene impressed me with the importance of a woman taking time to pamper herself.  She must be careful not to let the needs of others be an excuse for neglecting herself.

Now I’m thinking about the story a woman told about a situation with this guy she had dated for some time.

She said they had a really neat romance going.  She spent a lot of time with him.  He would take her out, take her to nice places, but there were events he attended and didn’t ask her to be his date. He was single, unattached and quite social and popular.  She wanted to move their relationship to another level.  

She would make herself more enticing to him.  She saw the opportunity the next time they made plans to go out on a Saturday night. Her kids were away in college.  The house was all hers.  She told herself, “You’ve got all day to make yourself special for this date tonight.”   She fixed a bubble bath and soaked in the tub, filled closed to overflowing, for hours, for HOURS, she said - luxuriating in the fragrant and soothing water, reading, relaxing imagining how wonderful her skin would be to his touch.  She creamed and lotioned, gave herself a pedicure, manicure, taking care of all the toiletries that make a woman beautiful. 

That night they went to dinner, a fine restaurant and came back to his place.  She spent the night.  It was really neat she gushed.  She felt good about herself, felt loved and loving, went to sleep, slept really well.  But, when she woke up he wasn’t there.  “Oh no”, she sighed, “He’s gone”. 

I was sad just hearing the story.  She said he had a big home which was as quiet as an empty house is.  He wasn’t there. She guessed the insensitive man had gone to work (he had his own business and was a workaholic).  It obviously meant nothing to him to leave her without a single parting word. She claimed she wasn’t angry, just realized a more secure relationship with him shouldn’t be in the cards.  She proceeded to dress; was almost ready to leave when she heard footsteps.  And, there he was … standing in the doorway with carryout breakfast, the newspapers, and coffee.   She said she remembers thinking, “Oh my gosh, it did work.”  Her soaking and pampering worked because he had never before done anything so romantic and thoughtful.

They have been married twelve years.

Yes, ladies, I’m thinking spending time being good to you, pampering yourself, it’s a good thing.

One More Thing

January 27, 1991, in Miami, Florida, The Buffalo Bills and The New York Giants played in Super Bowl XXV to determine football’s World Champion.  It wasn’t easy, but it was glorious - one of the best Super Bowl games, some would say, and we won!  The New York Giants 20 and the Buffalo Bills 19.

Yes, we New Jerseyites claim the Giants as ours.  Their home field is here in New Jersey, in the Meadowlands.  They belong to us – not New York!

Getting to the point: Whitney Houston sang The Star Spangled Banner to kick off Super Bowl XXV.  It was a soul-stirring rousing rendition that became a best selling CD with the profits going to charity.  The CD cover says, The Whitney Houston Foundation for Children, Inc. and Arista Records are donating their royalties and net proceeds from the sale of this product to the New York Fraternal Order of Police and The New York Firefighters 9/11 Disaster Relief Fund. 

I was at a Super-Bowl gathering of friends and family in a party-cozy apartment  anticipating the end of the traditional song honoring America and then the coin toss getting the game in motion.  But wait!  Everyone had stopped refreshing their drinks, stopped gathering munchies, stopped chit chatting.  Whitney Houston’s clear phrasing and strong emotional presentation had totally grabbed our attention.  Her wonderful voice grandly serenaded a passion for America that resonated like none other had singing The Star Spangled Banner.

That momentous event  was 21 years ago.  Americas involvement in the Gulf War had prompted serious concern about Super Bowl XXV even going forward, being held in 1991.  Then seeing and hearing The Star Spangled Banner sung that way in that stadium by Whitney Houston, evoked patriotic fervor from the tens of thousands present  and those of us watching our TVs.   Enthusiasm for America's grand old flag and all it represented soared high as the sky and wide as the horizon.  

It was a proud day for our State.  The New York Giants won.  And a beautiful daughter of New Jersey played an unforgettable role.