Over the past coupla weeks or so, I’ve heard some very disturbing news about women. Not me but you. I mean, I’m a woman and all but since I don’t fall in this category, I feel duty-bound to help you out. I hope you don’t mind. I’d want somebody to reach out to me if…Let’s get right to it to get you the help you need.
Women, so studies say, are taking more sleeping pills than anybody. Over 60%. I’m prepared to offer you an alternative, okay? If you’re on the high-strung end, and you know who you are, try jogging around the block in your neighborhood before bedtime. If there are loose dogs in the area and you’re not, per se, a dog-type person like myself, that should make you run even faster.
You may have to utilize some untapped skills or what you learned from childhood, like climbing a tree or do what they do in horror movies. For example, haul it home fast as you can but before you get there, fall, lose a shoe and say, “I can’t go on.” I will advise that it’s best you go on ’cause you’ll be alone and won’t nobody give a damn more than you, okay?
If you find that you can, make it to the door, try sticking the key in, drop it, not once but several times ’til the dog gets closer and closer. You may wanna try this as a mental exercise rather than actually doing it. I don’t know about you but just thinking about being in that situation has exhausted me. Should you decide to go on a trial run to see if this activity will wind you down in the evenings, keep in mind that those rottweilers don’t play and you don’t wanna get yourself chewed up or anything of that nature.
I also understand women folk are depressed more than men. ‘Cause of our body make-up, women internalize. We just take in so much and even create unreal imaginings that men have no idea about. They’re just so aloof, aren’t they?
Men folk, on the other hand, externalize. Therefore, we’ve got feelings they can’t begin to comprehend. Oh, they put on a good show like they’re sensitive and all but they really aren’t. They’re only appeasing you ’cause new agers are telling them all will be right with the universe if they do. Don’t believe the hype, folks but neither should you put too much focus on this part of the post ’cause I don’t want you losing more sleep than you already have or start giving the significant other the side eye.
This has been a public service announcement for women’s health on behalf of Women’s History Month. Keeping it real and light for the better good of human sanity.
I think you’ll love her if you’re not already familiar. I have a few CDs of hers. Simply came across her some years ago when I was browsing music in a store. So, when I was playing her in my car awhile back when driving a friend around, he fell in love with her but he had to buy his own CD ’cause I don’t loan out these kinda things. You just never see them again ’cause folk start thinking your stuff belongs to them.
Anyhow, Matsui is a jazz pianist or keyboardist, from Japan. I’ve always had this thing for the piano although I can’t play at all. I do, however, have a good ear for music. Now, Matsui’s been around for a good while. She looks young and you can say she is, really, at 52. She’s been on the circuit for 30 years, so you can be sure the music’s way better than good with her lasting that long.
Matsui is a naturalist and her titles reflect that. You may also be interested to know she’s an advocate for women’s health and contributes to several charitable causes, as well at to the Marrow Foundation. Royalties from CDs, in 2001 and 2004, were donated to the causes dear to her. You can visit Keiko Matsui’s website at www.keikomatsui.com.
Women have certainly come a long way. Depending on who you ask, some may say we’re outta control. Every now and again, I’ll pop in my Diana Ross & the Supremes CD and while that was before my time, I really like their singing. Those girls came a looooong way.
Back then too, women pretty much kept their clothes on. Times were different. You know, on the Republican conservative side when it came to dressing up. Even on stage to sing. I thought about this change short but hard, folks. How we dress and all, as in taking it off to make a dollar all started with underarm shaving. Seems like once that movement caught on, women folk started talking louder, smoking them thin cigarettes, spitting on the sidewalk and whatnot, we decided to go unclad in public. I mean, a woman can’t be all hairy and whatnot on the cover of Vogue or Penthouse. Just wouldn’t be a good visual, know what I mean?
Now, I’m on the fence about this whole skin is in movement. It’s just not fair to regular ole women folk, thinking they can mimmick their looks after Hollywood photoshopped pictures. It’s totally delusional and I know some men agree with me. I don’t care how liberated women are, some should absolutely refrain from those jeggings. Your reputation goes way down when you make certain decisions, okay? Even some thin women shouldn’t have a cashier ringing up such a purchase. You don’t get a pass on that because you’re small. Fair is fair.
When I was in Saudi Arabia, there were religious police. They gave you the business if you weren’t wearing your get-up right. Word was from the westerners (and you know how we exaggerate what we don’t understand), that you could go to jail for dress code infractions. Maybe. Maybe not. I didn’t test that theory. You feel me? Probably there should be similar positions in western countries, to uphold some kinda dress standard ’cause some women folk don’t know they’re in the wrong. That would be a good moonlighting job for me but even I would have to take some kinda test to prove I understand the rights and wrongs of fashion.
I can’t let you fellas off the hook either though and I’ll be straight to the point. Men folk, why is it the older you get, the higher those pants rise up toward your chest? What’s up with that, is my burning question.
Meet Jackie Ormes. I discovered her on NPR about 6 years ago from one of their audios. At the time, I was toying with the idea to do an educational graphic novel and got a little education myself. That’s what NPR tends to do.
Well, I was intrigued and got to nosing around on the web, looking for more information about this Ormes woman. I ended up buying a book with her work. She was the first syndicated African American cartoonist in her day. Now, I ended up giving the book away as a gift ’cause I was inviting someone to do a presentation. I sure do miss that book ’cause I haven’t re-purchased it yet but I will on Amazon this weekend.
Anyhow, Mrs. Ormes’ character was kinda modeled after herself. The little girl in the cartoon below was quick-witted and as central to the content as the adult characters. I’m rather inspired by Ormes in developing my own work, although our content will be different, this being a different time and all. Since women aren’t dominating this area of the arts, her accomplishments were significant.
Just thought I’d share that with it being Women’s History Month and all. If you’re spotlighting a woman of substance this month, please share. Thanks for visiting and sharing.
This is the second post in the Archie Bunker series that addresses relevant topics. While race relations have come a long way, there is still more work ahead of us. There will always be work to be done.
What would Archie have said about America electing an African-American president? What makes Archie and George’s way of thinking about race relevant today? Are the conversations we have amongst one another and with our children helping to bridge how we view race? Share your experiences and thank you for joining in.
If you’re familiar with All in the Family, you know that Archie Bunker not only made the show, he was the show. He was an amalgamation of many folks, two of them being a racist and male chauvinist. He was so believable in what he stood for that he was one of those TV folk one loved to hate. One thing for sure, he provoked a consciousness of thought about topical subjects that are still relevant today.
Initially, when I was going for my Masters, my thesis was based on 1970′s shows and the lack of black visibility; how those images, if portrayed as African-American, or Negro at that time, would’ve affected the black psyche or self-image. Turned out, I ended up not mastering in art but in another field. Though, I kinda always wonder how my work would’ve turned out ’cause I still have the paintings I started during my brief stint as an MFA student.
While I won’t exhibit those paintings here (cause they’re in oil and would take awhile still to complete),what I aim to do is take some of those topics, showing Archie in typical form. Here’s one you may have some opinions about.
I’m in the mood for watching movies that premiered back in the day. Now, I’ve never seen Claudine. It stars Diahann Carroll and James Earl Jones. I don’t remember how I came to be interested in seeing this movie but I found myself watching parts of it on YouTube.
Anyway, Claudine is about a single mother on government assistance and straddled down with six younguns. That’s about the most I can tell you, other than her getting herself a little boyfriend and the government’s all up inside and sideways in her personal affairs. I have this movie on order from Amazon. You may even be able to find it on NetFlix.
I think one of the reasons I’m drawn to this movie is that, like Claudine, the characters I create in my work also have it kinda rough. That they’re so badly flawed, by their own making or otherwise, makes them that more appealing to write about. Too, I feel a need to acquaint myself with works that will inspire me ’cause I don’t feel it at all these days. More about that later, however. Maybe. Or not, if this passes soon.
You can also watch a clip of Ms. Carroll’s interview regarding the movie.
Folks, maybe you couldn’t rightly tell but I’m from the south. That simply means that I’m genteel, polite and I, occasionally, display a smile at the absurd.
I said all that to say this. I think I’ve generated myself a slight problem of sorts, on account of being so southernly nice. There’s this woman who finds me so interesting, I reckon. she’s always trying to be up and inside of my business. Look, I’m just regular, plain ole ordinary folk much like yourself, so I haven’t quite figured out why she needs to know the whys and whatnots of me taking a day off. I don’t be off much at all in the first place but it seems she feels the need to know the details of my absence.
Instead of me saying, “If you don’t get your life, I’m gonna carve you a new one,” I figured with her being so smart, being a problem-solver and all, she’d take the social cue of me staring at her without so much as a blink, and go on ’bout her nosey business. But nooooo. She stares, waiting for a response as if she’s the check signer.
Now, why I’m off has no affect on what she’s gotta do. What I absolutely loathe is folk wanting to know the whys and whats on account of being a no count busy body. They have no use for the information other than wanting to know. I was thinking to put out my business in the form of a magazine and have her subscribe for $500 a month. That way we’ll both know if what I have going on is valuable enough for her to pay for. I’d be required to disclose every why and whatnot, in that case. Maybe we could even do lunch and I’d talk about myself in the third person, saying stuff like, “She didn’t come to work ’cause her jeans were so tight, she couldn’t walk,” or “She hurt herself twerking at a Miley Cyrus concert. Pulled a hamstring like you wouldn’t believe.”
How do you gently keep folk outta your business? Or is gentle not a term you’d use to describe how you go about it?
Lana couldn’t remember a thing. She felt nauseous while scanning the room, the stench of outside garbage drifting in from the open window. After giving the room a once-over, Jim walked in, wearing a dingy wife-beater and familiar boxers. The ones with patterns of red lips on them that sagged in the rear. The same ones he wore last night and was nasty enough to slip back on, apparently.
“You want coffee?” he asked her, now sitting on the bed with white crust in the corners of his mouth.
Lord have mercy, she thought, what am I doing here with him?
“Mama brewed a fresh batch. I can get you some, if you want.” His voice was poor-sounding to Lana. She could hear his spit turning and sloshing against his mouth with each word.
Lana turned to the nightstand and looked at the red box of chocolates she’d eaten a fourth of as she pulled the sheets over her. She felt his hand on her shoulder and scowled under his fingers that felt like damp clay. Pulling her arms together and tucking her body into a ball, she remembered every damn thing now. The gold ban on her left ring finger jogged her back to Vegas lights and them both wearing gem-studded Elvis-like jumpsuits, saying I do.
Copyright 2014 Totsymae
I was definitely starting to feel claustrophobic with being stuck in the house on account of the snow. That’s how we do it down south. We stay tucked in after stocking up on eggs, milk and bread. I never understood why these three grocery items were so significant. I’m lactose intolerant, so milk wouldn’t be a good thing for me. I don’t eat bread all that much ’cause I can do without the carbs and eggs, well, we know what happens when eggs gets settled in real good in the bottom of your belly.
I just wouldn’t wanna be snowbound with folk who’ve filled themselves up with eggs. The common sense thing to me is to leave them in the store. I understand that folk get tired and angry with one another after being locked in together for so many days. Thus, may I suggest eggs may be the reason why? The answer is so simple when considering the little things ’cause little things really do mean a lot in this case. Know what I mean?
Never do I hear that stores are running outta breath mints or toothpaste. Kinda mind-blowing, if you ask me but since you didn’t…
Maxine looked out her window at the neighborhood from her second floor, blowing halos of smoke from those dark lips and lactating while the baby lay screaming in the crib. The perfect life of birthing a child and marrying Sammy hadn’t come together after all. Never had she figured he’d lay dead by her hands for wanting to leave. Sure did wish the child would cease all that hollering. She finished out the last of her smoke and pushed back from the window opening. Darn near tripped over Sammy, blood still warm, when she lifted the baby to feed it.
Copyright 2014 Totsymae