being the mischievous person that I am, I ran into his room, into his bed, under his covers. to hide.
"boo!"
nothing like seeing a 6'5" man get startled and run away on his tippy toes from the sight of a woman in his bed.
or maybe it was me.
Showing posts with label love.. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love.. Show all posts
27 September 2009
11 August 2009
08 July 2009
legacy
Christmas time at the McCalmons meant floor to ceiling cleaning. new linens. fancy china. lights in the windows and The Jackson 5 Christmas Album on the stereo.
MJ concert specials meant us all sitting around the tv singing "Heal The World" while a certain little sister made like the screaming fans we were watching and cried.
composing the "Beat It" ringtone on my Nokia, so I could listen to the song instead of answering the calls of stalker friends.
when in doubt, PYT will chase the clouds away.
hbic came to work a month ago. she had a good weekend, she said. something about having a stoop sale, but no one wanted to buy this MJ album cover that she was practically giving away. in what universe?! and so it was mine.
it meant that if you asked my favorite song, I'd give you five. and if someone else asked, that list was likely to change. you can't have just one.
because, at this point, I have no interest in wearing anything that isn't sequined.
but the truth of the matter is that he didn't mean all this to everyone. the outpouring of sympathy from around the world is not coming from everyone around the world. for so many, the media coverage has been exhausting. excessive. exorbitant. for so many, that announcement meant little, if anything. for so many, life kept moving. so, I guess, thanks for hanging in there while the rest of us mourned? thanks for hanging in there while we crippled leading news sites. while we flooded your news feeds with "live" updates as if we were in the Staples Center. as we continue to flood your news feeds with [insert lyric here].
for so many, he was a sideshow. a freak who starred in a three-ring circus. a freak who found comfort in toting around a monkey. a freak who found comfort in sharing his bed with young children.
for so many, the question of legacy has been answered by charges brought against him. acquitted or not. settled or not. he was still accused of doing something wrong. and thus for the world to be brought to tears over his death is utterly ridiculous, they feel.
but to many more, a legacy is not solely defined by the trials one may deal with publicly. that still may be no match for those trials one struggles to negotiate privately. a legacy is not solely defined by mistakes. mistakes that we all make, regardless of whether or not we choose to own up to them.
a legacy is defined by reach. the ability to touch millions of people, only a fraction of which speak your native language. the ability to touch generations of people, only a fraction of which were alive to form quintets with their siblings and imitate your moves while you performed on national television. only a fraction of which were alive for the release of the seminal record of your career. and only a fraction of which were alive to witness your first moonwalk.
*****
when Barack Obama was declared president-elect of the United States, the world looked on and cheered. his win dominated world papers. dominated conversations. his win brought hundreds out to Union Square to join in singing the national anthem together. hundreds took to the streets in Harlem to cry and rejoice about the new day upon us. thousands around the globe stayed up through the night to witness and celebrate our victory. and words escaped me as I felt the weight of the significance of that moment. we're living in a global time, where oceans and time zones are but small challenges to a unifying conscience. upon his election, I was overwhelmed to see the global response. I understood that it was a special person we were bringing into office, but I also felt a sadness-- when again would we witness such a global response, signifying such unity?
as much as we may feel that we need Michael here with us, God must've needed him far more.
*Stevie Wonder*
and though not a time of great jubiliation, but to mourn the loss of a global icon, once more we've come together to cry, celebrate and dance. to make love not war. to bond over a loved one. Perhaps God is using him to bring us together again. to remind us that in our differences, there are similarities. to remind us that within us all there is a humanity that transcends race, gender, class, religion.
the most touching tributes for me have been the ballads. the content of Michael's songs speak volumes for the heart of gold he had. for the human he was. so whether you need to look up the lyrics to "Man In The Mirror" or "We Are The World," or whether you need to turn to CNN to watch the 233rd replay of baby Paris' heartbreaking words to her dad, remember that triumphs and pitfalls aside, all Michael wanted was to bring people together, to make a better place for you and for me.
let's get to it.
MJ concert specials meant us all sitting around the tv singing "Heal The World" while a certain little sister made like the screaming fans we were watching and cried.
composing the "Beat It" ringtone on my Nokia, so I could listen to the song instead of answering the calls of stalker friends.
when in doubt, PYT will chase the clouds away.
hbic came to work a month ago. she had a good weekend, she said. something about having a stoop sale, but no one wanted to buy this MJ album cover that she was practically giving away. in what universe?! and so it was mine.
it meant that if you asked my favorite song, I'd give you five. and if someone else asked, that list was likely to change. you can't have just one.because, at this point, I have no interest in wearing anything that isn't sequined.
but the truth of the matter is that he didn't mean all this to everyone. the outpouring of sympathy from around the world is not coming from everyone around the world. for so many, the media coverage has been exhausting. excessive. exorbitant. for so many, that announcement meant little, if anything. for so many, life kept moving. so, I guess, thanks for hanging in there while the rest of us mourned? thanks for hanging in there while we crippled leading news sites. while we flooded your news feeds with "live" updates as if we were in the Staples Center. as we continue to flood your news feeds with [insert lyric here].
for so many, he was a sideshow. a freak who starred in a three-ring circus. a freak who found comfort in toting around a monkey. a freak who found comfort in sharing his bed with young children.
for so many, the question of legacy has been answered by charges brought against him. acquitted or not. settled or not. he was still accused of doing something wrong. and thus for the world to be brought to tears over his death is utterly ridiculous, they feel.
but to many more, a legacy is not solely defined by the trials one may deal with publicly. that still may be no match for those trials one struggles to negotiate privately. a legacy is not solely defined by mistakes. mistakes that we all make, regardless of whether or not we choose to own up to them.
a legacy is defined by reach. the ability to touch millions of people, only a fraction of which speak your native language. the ability to touch generations of people, only a fraction of which were alive to form quintets with their siblings and imitate your moves while you performed on national television. only a fraction of which were alive for the release of the seminal record of your career. and only a fraction of which were alive to witness your first moonwalk.
*****
when Barack Obama was declared president-elect of the United States, the world looked on and cheered. his win dominated world papers. dominated conversations. his win brought hundreds out to Union Square to join in singing the national anthem together. hundreds took to the streets in Harlem to cry and rejoice about the new day upon us. thousands around the globe stayed up through the night to witness and celebrate our victory. and words escaped me as I felt the weight of the significance of that moment. we're living in a global time, where oceans and time zones are but small challenges to a unifying conscience. upon his election, I was overwhelmed to see the global response. I understood that it was a special person we were bringing into office, but I also felt a sadness-- when again would we witness such a global response, signifying such unity?
as much as we may feel that we need Michael here with us, God must've needed him far more.
*Stevie Wonder*
and though not a time of great jubiliation, but to mourn the loss of a global icon, once more we've come together to cry, celebrate and dance. to make love not war. to bond over a loved one. Perhaps God is using him to bring us together again. to remind us that in our differences, there are similarities. to remind us that within us all there is a humanity that transcends race, gender, class, religion.
the most touching tributes for me have been the ballads. the content of Michael's songs speak volumes for the heart of gold he had. for the human he was. so whether you need to look up the lyrics to "Man In The Mirror" or "We Are The World," or whether you need to turn to CNN to watch the 233rd replay of baby Paris' heartbreaking words to her dad, remember that triumphs and pitfalls aside, all Michael wanted was to bring people together, to make a better place for you and for me.let's get to it.
27 June 2009
26 April 2009
11 March 2009
you're a big star today!
happy 21st birthday to the kelis to my beyoncé, the best little-sister-born-on-March-11 that a girl could ask for!
03 March 2009
complex simplicity
what do you do with someone that can refer to a woman as a "bitch" or "hoe" just as easily as he can slide the ankh around his neck in the morning?
and when this same person, excited to put you onto all the Tribe & Mos & Kweli songs you somehow missed, loads you up with a healthy helping of T-Pain?
or who says, "you need to listen to this song, but do it when you're alone. it's the kinda song that makes you wanna go to the Career Center."
you press play and you hear:
I want the money,
money and the cars,
cars and the clothes
the hoes, I suppose.
yep, def Career Center music.
and then when you're at the beginning of a 6-hour road trip back to school, and he's a man so he doesn't take directions, especially not from a woman who has them clearly in front of her, and so you get lost in KKK country, with only daylight and God to save you...what do you do?
well, you love him, of course.
and when this same person, excited to put you onto all the Tribe & Mos & Kweli songs you somehow missed, loads you up with a healthy helping of T-Pain?
or who says, "you need to listen to this song, but do it when you're alone. it's the kinda song that makes you wanna go to the Career Center."
you press play and you hear:
I want the money,
money and the cars,
cars and the clothes
the hoes, I suppose.
yep, def Career Center music.
and then when you're at the beginning of a 6-hour road trip back to school, and he's a man so he doesn't take directions, especially not from a woman who has them clearly in front of her, and so you get lost in KKK country, with only daylight and God to save you...what do you do?
well, you love him, of course.
17 February 2009
carpe laetum
according to legend, when i was much younger i was quite rude-- my favorite pastime was butting into grown folks conversation. so, true to form, one day I expertly inserted my six-year old self into a discussion that my much older cousin Simone and other relatives were having. that was the day i learned that we all had to die.
i can't remember how she broke the news to me, but i remember being mad. really, really mad. i ran down into the basement, cried my eyes out and refused to speak to her. today, it's a story that we joke about, but i would be lying if i said it didn't have an impact on me.
on 5 feb 09, my cousin Nathalie, who a little over a month prior was running around Guyana, partying with my aunt celebrating Christmas, Boxing Day, New Years, life, passed away from non hodgkins lymphoma. to be quite honest, i don't know too much about the disease because when she was diagnosed with the stage 3 blood cancer two weeks ago, the tone of my mom's voice gave away the gravity of the situation and i had no interest in wikipedia trying to tell me what would happen next. i mean, she was only 25.
but, i always remember Simone's words, because, unfortunately, that's the reality of this little game we call life. honestly speaking, the hardest part of dealing with the loss has been witnessing the effect it's had on my aunts, cousins, my dear granny. there's so much pain there and little i can do to help them heal. and my poor mother. when she called to double check that i scheduled that long overdue doctor's appointment, i knew that watching someone go from being ostensibly healthy to dead in one month, and then to be only two years older than her oldest child, is making her nervous in the way that mothers dread.
in the meantime, here I am, 23, and have now lost two cousins under the age of 35. grateful for modern technology and skype, I was able to speak to my aunt in Guyana who imparted her wisdom, "[Nathalie's passing reminds you that] you must live your life with purpose because you don't know when you're gonna be called." cliché, yes, but always true. for me, this is bigger than needing to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro, wrestle an alligator, or swim across the Atlantic. it's about happiness. we didn't choose to be here. we didn't choose mortality. but we can choose happiness. for me, that happiness, optimism, joy helps me to get through each day. and it also helps me to find my purpose and my passions because i know i'm here for a reason and have a limited time to make an impact. to choose to be happy is more than keeping a smile plastered on my face. laughing at shit that isn't actually that funny. it's about controlling the extent to which i allow my environment to affect my attitude. to say fuck all that other shit and just seize joy.
Nathalie lived like that. she brightened everyone's lives. she'd say the most foolish shit, make the dumbest jokes, and you had no choice but to laugh. her mom died in childbirth and so my mother, grandmother and aunts all had a hand in raising her. and though it hurts that she's gone, i've found peace knowing that she's chillin up in heaven with the homie JC and her mom, Joy.
rip, love.
i can't remember how she broke the news to me, but i remember being mad. really, really mad. i ran down into the basement, cried my eyes out and refused to speak to her. today, it's a story that we joke about, but i would be lying if i said it didn't have an impact on me.
on 5 feb 09, my cousin Nathalie, who a little over a month prior was running around Guyana, partying with my aunt celebrating Christmas, Boxing Day, New Years, life, passed away from non hodgkins lymphoma. to be quite honest, i don't know too much about the disease because when she was diagnosed with the stage 3 blood cancer two weeks ago, the tone of my mom's voice gave away the gravity of the situation and i had no interest in wikipedia trying to tell me what would happen next. i mean, she was only 25.
but, i always remember Simone's words, because, unfortunately, that's the reality of this little game we call life. honestly speaking, the hardest part of dealing with the loss has been witnessing the effect it's had on my aunts, cousins, my dear granny. there's so much pain there and little i can do to help them heal. and my poor mother. when she called to double check that i scheduled that long overdue doctor's appointment, i knew that watching someone go from being ostensibly healthy to dead in one month, and then to be only two years older than her oldest child, is making her nervous in the way that mothers dread.
in the meantime, here I am, 23, and have now lost two cousins under the age of 35. grateful for modern technology and skype, I was able to speak to my aunt in Guyana who imparted her wisdom, "[Nathalie's passing reminds you that] you must live your life with purpose because you don't know when you're gonna be called." cliché, yes, but always true. for me, this is bigger than needing to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro, wrestle an alligator, or swim across the Atlantic. it's about happiness. we didn't choose to be here. we didn't choose mortality. but we can choose happiness. for me, that happiness, optimism, joy helps me to get through each day. and it also helps me to find my purpose and my passions because i know i'm here for a reason and have a limited time to make an impact. to choose to be happy is more than keeping a smile plastered on my face. laughing at shit that isn't actually that funny. it's about controlling the extent to which i allow my environment to affect my attitude. to say fuck all that other shit and just seize joy.
Nathalie lived like that. she brightened everyone's lives. she'd say the most foolish shit, make the dumbest jokes, and you had no choice but to laugh. her mom died in childbirth and so my mother, grandmother and aunts all had a hand in raising her. and though it hurts that she's gone, i've found peace knowing that she's chillin up in heaven with the homie JC and her mom, Joy.
rip, love.
25 November 2008
on friendship
when you plan to surprise your mom for her bday
when airtran has no more seats available until saturday morning
when you finally land and youre picked up no later than 8:30am
when your mom is 40 miles away and youre not quite sure how youre gonna get to her
when youre handed the keys to the ford escape with a full tank of gas and that new ne-yo
when you burst through the door and your mom can't quite figure out how you got there
what do you say besides thank you?
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