Month: August 2013

I Have Nothing to Blog

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It’s been a long week. After I left the office today, I decided to catch a movie. At the top of my list of choices were the movies “Job,” “Two Guns” and “Lee Daniels’ The Butler.” I chose “The Butler” simply because the start time fit my schedule. Bad choice but good movie. It’s probably better than just good, but my already exhausted brain is still trying to process it. That’s why I said it was a bad choice. I should have seen it tomorrow when my brain was fresh and fully capable of digesting all of the moving parts.

So what does that have to do with my blog? What little brain power I had left after this week, was zapped by the movie. So I’ll try again tomorrow.

I Will Smash You and Make Another One!

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I was talking to a father once about disciplining children and how things are so very different from when we were growing up. He told me a story about how his three year old rolled her eyes at him. He responded by telling her: “I will smash you and make another one!” His wife was horrified that he’d spoken to their child that way. He didn’t see the problem with what he’d said.

Why can’t all parents be like this? I pondered this while thinking back on an experience I had in a grocery store. A little boy about 8 years old asked his mother for candy. She said, “No.” He replied, “Mom, you’re being such a b!+ch!!” I immediately stepped back because I didn’t want to accidentally become collateral damage as Timmy’s mom laid hands on Timmy. But she did no such thing. She calmly responded “Timmy, I’ve told you before not to speak to me like that.” Oh, so Timmy’s cursed at his mother before? And since he still had all of his teeth and felt comfortable enough to do it again, he clearly understood that there were no consequences for blatant acts of disrespect.

Timmy should have been smashed and Timmy’s mom should have begun working on Timmy 2.0. But he wasn’t smashed and Timmy 2.0 is probably Timmy 1.1 with even more defects than the original. Had I lost my mind and said something like that to my mother, I would have almost certainly been smashed. Even today, I’m likely to get smashed for such disrespect.

Over the years, I’ve seen similar incidents again and again. When did parents start allowing their kids to speak to them any kind of way? It seems as though they’re taking this whole “I want to be my kids’ friend” thing just a bit too far. My mother isn’t a violent mother and never abused us, however, we had more respect for her than to curse at her or call her out of her name. That sort of thing simply didn’t happen in our house. When I see kids on TV shooting their classmates, committing (other) crimes and adopting a variety of vices, I think of little Timmy. But even moreso, I think of little Timmy’s mother (and father who I didn’t see) and wonder if she realizes that she’s “got next?” Does she know that she’s likely rasising the next idiot to be featured on the 11 o’clock news? Probably not. She’s probably of the school of thought that “freedom of expression” and lack of rules will lead to a more creative and successful child. I’m not buying it. I’m #TeamSmash!

Why Are You Supportive of Gay Rights?

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[This was the worst kept secret ever when it happened.  I’m not sure if I’m even allowed to talk about it now. So for the sake of not offending anyone by sharing *my* experience, I’ve changed names and associations. It’s just easier this way . . . maybe.]

I pride myself on not having closed-minded, intolerant friends. So imagine my surprise when I discovered that someone close to me wasn’t necessarily tolerant of gays. I’ve seen this person interact with my gay friends.  There’s never been a time when this person behaved inappropriately around my friends or said anything to make them feel uncomfortable. (I don’t play that. My friends don’t have to be friends, but they have to be respectful to one another.) So I was shocked when during a conversation a couple of years ago it was revealed that they weren’t particularly supportive of gays or gay rights. As the conversation went on, I was asked “Why are you so supportive of gay rights?” (for those who don’t know, I’m not gay).  I explained it the best way I could . . .

Growing up, we had a family friend who visited frequently. He would play with us kids, bring us cool gifts for birthdays and Christmas and buy us ice cream off the ice cream truck when the parents wouldn’t. He was cool and fun and we all loved him. He always had some story to tell about his adventures. He was one of those grownups you wanted to hang out with when you grew up because you just knew you’d have a blast. Of all of the family and friends that visited, he was our hands-down favorite.  

When I was 14 he became terribly ill.  There was always some new ailment that I’d never heard of with a name I could barely pronounce. Even though I didn’t know what was wrong with him, it was abundantly clear that he wasn’t long for this world.  

He died in August of 1990.   

As we prepared for the funeral, I began to hear whispers about his death. I tried to figure out what really happened from these conversations, but it was difficult to say the least. I was a child and children were to be seen and not heard. We were also often told to “stay out of grown folks’ business!” If you know black women, particularly old, black women, you know that they like to whisper the worst parts of gossip.  This made it even more difficult for me to determine what happened.  One day, as I sat in a corner, I overheard a conversation: 

“You know he had . . . [whispers] . . . that AIDS.”  

“I heard! You know, he was . . . [whispers] . . . that way.” 

“Giiirrrllll, I know!” 

              If you didn’t know, “that way” is a colloquialism for “gay.” 

I had no idea that he was gay.  All I knew what that he was cool and fun, told great stories and brought me gifts. I also knew that he’d gone to bat for one of my family members when he thought they’d been wronged by someone. (I wasn’t supposed to know this. It’s one of those stories that got told without the teller realizing that children were nearby.) I’m not sure that at that point I fully understood what it meant to be gay. What I did understand was that lot of adults weren’t okay with it.  I wasn’t sure why they weren’t ok with it.  I was, however, sure that these adults thought that gays were bad people and destined for hell. I was sure many of these people were going to hell too. I thought maybe they were upset with the fact that they’d have to spend all of eternity with people they didn’t like.  

By the time I realized he was gay, I already loved him.  I already knew he was a good person. Because I knew these things, was absolutely certain of these things, I knew that the adults who’d labeled all gays as bad and destined for hell, were absolutely, positively, dead-ass wrong!  

So that was my explanation as to why I’m supportive of gays and gay rights. Although I grew up hearing (not from my parents) that gays were bad I had first-hand information disproving this theory. For me it was that simple. I could prove that not all gays were bad people. I further explained to my friend that what other people did, or who they loved, was none of my business.  I asked the questions: Does someone being gay impact your life in any way? Does them being gay cost you any money? Does someone else’s homosexuality adversely impact your ability to provide for yourself? Does it adversely impact your ability to find happiness? If the answers to all of these questions is “no,” then why do you even care?

There was silence.

The person then said, “I guess you’re right.” A mind was changed that day. We’ve had subsequent conversations over the years about this topic and I’ve since learned that not only was a mind changed, but a heart was changed. That’s why I’m sharing this story.  Hopefully, it will help others to change their hearts and minds.

You Talk Like a White Girl

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[Throwback Piece]

I’m convinced that being black, and “successful,” in America means being at least a little schizophrenic. I consider myself to be black, and “successful,” in America. Yeah, I know. That probably means I’m a little schizophrenic.
My “mental condition” was first brought to my attention back in my early twenties. I was volunteering for an organization that helps under-employed and unemployed 18 to 24 year olds find gainful employment. Volunteers helped youth write resumes, practice interviews and conduct productive job searches. Did I mention that while I was doing this I was just 24 years old? I was teaching my peers.
I volunteered during my lunch hour so I was often dressed in a business suit when I met with the students. One day while conducting a seminar on “Interviewing and Networking” I was interrupted by a brash 22 year old who took pride in informing me that “[I] talk like a white girl!!” Without skipping a beat, and with a decidedly “urban flair,” I responded, “And I make money like a white girl too!” What followed was a short stare down. Chrissy is the champion of the stare down. My record remained intact that day.
The classroom that had been only half listening up to that point was now at full attention. Without me having to specifically address black schizophrenia, they got it. They got that while I was able to speak like them, I was also able to master “The King’s English” in a way that allowed me to maneuver through mainstream America in an attempt to obtain the American Dream. Here I was, the same age as them, dressed well, with an education and a “good job” in corporate America. The typical volunteer with this agency was middle-aged and white. Now they were receiving the message from someone who not only looked like them but was also the same age as them. One student later told me that hearing me deliver the message made it feel like the American Dream was something she could achieve. She even gave me props for being able to “switch it up” when I needed to.
I had just about forgotten about this “schizophrenic” episode until early this morning. I was on the phone, like a teenager, talking into the wee hours of the morning when the person on the other end said, “Damn, what did I do to deserve the ‘corporate voice?'” I hadn’t even realized that I’d slipped into “work speak.” At first I was a little embarrassed. I take pride in being able to switch it up at the drop of a dime. But this had been unintentional. Then I felt stupid for being embarrassed. Why should I be embarrassed that I have a firm grasp of the King’s English? That is after all what my parents taught me. That is after all what helped make me a “success,” right? So here’s to being black, successful and “schizophrenic” in America.

F.T.B.

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I sometimes wish ending a friendship in real life were as simple as it is on Facebook.

[Click: “Unfriend”]

[Are you sure you want to unfriend _______? YES or NO}

[Click: YES!!!]

[ _______ has been unfriended.]

Wouldn’t that be awesome? Two simple clicks and you’re rid of the person you no longer want to engage you in conversations you don’t want to have. They will no longer be able to send you invitations to events you don’t want to attend (at least not with them). You won’t have to run into them at your friends’ place. It’s just over!

That’d be great!

Normally when I’m ready for a friendship to be over, I simply “Fade to Black.”(FTB) With the FTB, there’s never any drama. There are never any harsh words that you two can’t come back from. There are no hurt feelings (well, maybe there are, but you’re not around to see them). It’s just over and everyone moves on. At least that’s how it’s supposed to work.

Every now and again, the FTB doesn’t work. The person you’re trying to shake, just won’t go away. They seem not to pick up on the non-verbal cues that you are no longer interested in their company. The fact that you no longer respond to their phone calls, texts and emails seems to be lost on them. The fact that you’ve declined all of their invitations to hangout seems meaningless to them. The fact that you (still) won’t accept their Facebook Friend Request somehow goes right over their heads. And the worst part is when they ask “Did I do something?” You want to respond, “Yes, as a matter of fact you did. You ignored my Fade to Black!!”

I’m not sure who said it, but people often credit Oprah with the quote “When someone shows you who they are, believe them.” I believe them. And once I’m a believer, if I don’t like what I’ve seen, I remove myself from the situation. Sometimes I FTB because I catch someone in a lie. Not the kind where it’s possible they were mistaken or misspoke. I’m talking the kind of bold, unsolicited lie that makes your skin crawl. Sometimes I FTB because I think the person is a gossip “A dog that will bring a bone will carry a bone.” (My momma) Again, I’m not talking about an innocent sharing of information, but rather sharing with me intimate details of someone else’s life that would devastate the person if they knew I knew. Sometimes I FTB because the person is too clingy. If you know me, you know that I move like a lone wolf. I know lots of people and I have a good deal of people that I call friends. Yet and still, I am very comfortable all by my lonesome. As such, I’m a little unnerved by people who expect me to become their Siamese twin. Not interested!

So, after the FTB fails and I’m forced to address the situation head on, someone ends up with hurt feelings. And I’m always blamed for the hurt feelings. Sure, by the time I realize my FTB has failed, what little patience and tact I possess has been exhausted. This leads to a harsher than necessary explanation of why I no longer wish to be in the company of the offending party. This leads to the offending party being offended. They usually share their hurt with others and, hence, Chrissy is the bad guy. However, had they just left me alone when I attempted to disappear, all of this could have been avoided.

The moral of the story, kids, is that “When someone shows you who they are, believe them!” When I show you that I’m no longer interested in your friendship, believe me!

Good Manners Are Always En Vogue

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I’m no Emily Post.  I’m not even close. But if there’s one thing I learned growing up is that good manners are always en vogue.  I learned that while I might not always have the fanciest or most expensive clothes, what I could always have – good manners.  I assumed all people learned this lesson growing up. And even though I now know that isn’t true, I’m still always shocked when I watch people stumble through life unintentionally committing the occasional etiquette faux pas and, almost always, offending someone. Since I’ve seen this so many times, I thought I’d share a few tips and tricks to successfully navigating the basics of etiquette.

  • When invited into someone’s home as a guest, properly thank the host:
    • Dinner Guest – When you’re a dinner guest in someone’s home, you should always bring something for the host. Even if the host tells you “Just bring your appetite!” bring something anyway.  You don’t go to a restaurant and not leave anything so don’t show up to anyone’s home without leaving something. Bringing a small gift says “I’m appreciative of the invitation,” “Thank you for putting dinner together,” “I was ‘raised right’ so I’m bringing something so I don’t look like Caveman raised by Wooly Mammoths.” It’s just the right thing to do. The gift doesn’t have to be extravagant.  A nice bottle of wine or champagne is always a good choice (unless you’re visiting a teetotaler).  Even if the host doesn’t drink regularly, the wine can be served at other dinner parties.  It’s also a great re-gift gift. If the host is attending a dinner party at someone else’s home, they can always take the bottle of wine. It just works. If you’re on a bit of a budget, a nice handwritten thank you card with a $5 gift card to their favorite coffee shop works too.  Your friends usually know, and understand, your financial situation. The point is not to outdo any of the other guests, the point is to properly express your gratitude for the invitation.
      • If you do bring something edible as a gift to the host, you are NOT allowed to consume it or set it out for general consumption during the event.  The gift is to be left for the host.  If the host decides to open the bottle of wine or serve the box of chocolates during the party, fine. However, under no circumstances are you allowed to open the item or suggest that the item be opened.  It’s just tacky.  You brought it for the host, so let the host decide what to do with it.
      • If you decide to “bring what you drink,” make sure to still bring something for the host and make sure they know that you’ve brought something for them AND something for yourself.  You don’t want to appear accidentally tacky when you crack open your favorite bottle of wine, sit it between you and your plus one and drink the entire bottle by yourselves.
    • Overnight Guest – If someone is gracious enough to allow you to rest your head in their home overnight, say ‘Thank you’ by taking the host out for a meal or, if you’re on a budget, preparing a meal (with groceries you bought). Also, make sure you keep your accommodations tidy. Make the bed and tidy up the bathroom before you leave.  Don’t be the guest who doesn’t get invited back because s/he was ungrateful and sloppy.
  • Text Messages are almost NEVER a proper thank you. If someone buys you a gift, does something nice for you or gets you out of a jam, you should send a handwritten thank you note.  (Sidenote: Keep stationary on hand. I personally have a variety of stationary, some custom, some off the shelf, but all appropriate for writing a ‘Thank You’ note). If someone sends you a gift and you send a text message to say thank you, you’ve almost certainly guaranteed that you will never get another gift from that person.
    • Dating – Just about the only time it’s appropriate to send a ‘Thank you’ text message is following a date. If someone takes you on a date and buys you food or drinks or pays for an activity, you should follow it up with a proper Thank You.  Even if you didn’t like the person and have no intentions of going out with him/her again, sending a simple “Thank you” text shows that you appreciate the effort the other person put into the outing. No one owes you a date.  No one owes you dinner, drinks or activities. It’s a rough economy. Show your gratitude for someone spending their hard earned money on you when they didn’t have to.
  • Cell Phones – Put them away at the dinner table.  It’s one thing to fetch a ringing phone from your pocket to answer it.  It’s another to scan Facebook, Twitter or other social media while dining.  1) You’re not that important; and 2) You’re being rude. If the text, email, tweet or status update is that important, you should have stayed at home so you don’t miss it. In the event that you’re expecting an important call, text or email, inform your company ahead of time so that they know upfront that you’re not being rude for the sake of being rude.

These are just a few of the etiquette transgressions I witness on a daily basis. I’m sure there are hundreds more that you can think of.  Feel free to add them to the comments.

 

Footnote: If you think you’ve offending me by breaking one of these ‘rules,’ don’t apologize.  Let’s just pretend it didn’t happen.  But, by all means, do better next time . . . if you get another chance.

The Sexiest Thing About a Man

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I’ve been writing this blog (in my head) for a little over a week now.  I began writing it after date with a guy I’ve been dating casually for a little over a month.  He’s a great guy.  He looks good on paper (educated, gainfully employed, no kids, well-traveled, financially stable (from outward appearances)).   And although he’s no Idris Elba, he’s certainly not hard on the eyes.  And add to that that he’s kind, respectful and chivalrous (opens doors, pulls out chairs, helps me with my coat, walks on the right side of the sidewalk and he knows that hats are not to be worn indoors).  He’s, technically speaking, my franchise player at the moment.  The only problem is that he doesn’t have the “It” factor.  In fact, nobody on my current team has that “It” factor.

Let me briefly refresh you on the team concept.  I believe in dating multiple men at the same time. Women typically meet a man and stick with him ’til the wheels fall off.  They are then devastated when it doesn’t work out.  Most times they are not so much upset about the end of the relationship as they are the thought of having to ‘get back out there.’ Men, on the other hand always have more than one woman on their team so even when they end it with one chick they have at least one other on the roster to keep themselves entertained.  So I decided a while back that I would date like a man.  This method has generally worked well for me.  The only time it didn’t was when I gave up my team too soon.  Next time, I’ll have to have a rock on the third finger of my left hand before I give up my team (just kidding . . . kinda . . . sorta).

One of my girls noticed that I’d been spending a lot of time with Mr. Looks Good on Paper and asked how it was going.  I told her that it was going ok but I just didn’t know if I wanted to continue seeing him.  She asked what was wrong with him and I said “nothing.”  And that was the truth.  Nothing is wrong with him, he simply doesn’t have that “It” factor working in his favor.  The “It” factor is that thing that causes the butterflies in your stomach when you know you’re going to see him.  It’s that thing that makes you want to call just to say “Hi” and see how his day is going.  It’s that thing that makes you want to go out of your way to do special things for him.  I had none of that for him . . . until our last date.  That’s when he did the absolute sexiest thing a man can do.  He did that “man thing” that I LOVE so much!  We were meeting for breakfast one morning.  I was late because I’d had a hectic morning dealing with an issue (a relatively minor one) that despite all my efforts I just couldn’t resolve.  I was slightly frazzled when I arrived at the breakfast spot.  He asked what was wrong. (2 points for noticing AND asking)  And that’s when he did the absolute sexiest thing a man can do . . . he said “as soon as we’re done with breakfast, I’ll take care of it.”  WOW!!!!  I didn’t have to ask him to take care of it; I didn’t have to hint for him to do it, in fact, it never even crossed my mind that he might step in and work it out.  And just like that, he’d all of a sudden developed the “It” factor!!!

Many of the men I’ve dated have measured how much I “need” them by how many bills I ask them to or let them pay.  That’s not my thing.  I’ve always been very independent.  So when I let them know that I don’t need them in that way they equate that with “I don’t need you (at all).”  Men don’t get that most of us, even the gold diggers, love for a man to be an “M-A-N. Capital M, Capital A, Capital N” (My Daddy, since 1976).  We like for men to take care of things for us.  Especially those traditionally “man things”  (e.g., pumping gas, taking out the trash, fixing things, slaying dragons, etc.). And, hint, hint, gentlemen, being a M-A-N (truly being a man, not just stomping around pounding your chest and chanting “I’m Da MAN!”) is the easiest and best way to get what you want from a woman.  Get your minds out of the gutter, I’m not just talking about that (but it doesn’t hurt there either).  If you want your woman to cook, clean and dress up for you then make it easier for her to do it.  Carry your weight in the relationship and be a man and take some things off her plate.  Trust me, it works!

Who is Riley Cooper?

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Who is Riley Cooper? The answer: someone whose name I didn’t know two weeks ago.  I had no clue who this man was two weeks ago but in the time since his story broke, his name has been a constant on my Twitter feed, Facebook timeline and favorite ESPN podcasts.  I posted the following status on my own Facebook timeline a couple of days ago:

“The Philadelphia Eagle’s locker room appears to be divided. Could you get past a co-worker who was caught on tape using insensitive language (re: race, gender, sexual orientation, etc)? I can (and have). I [go] o work to make money, not friends. As long as you keep your hands off of me, I’m good. I’m very well equipped to verbally defend myself when needed. So say what you want. Just be prepared for what comes next.”

I had several interesting comments. Some felt that the other team’s defensive lines would serve as karma for Mr. Cooper’s insensitive words. Others thought they’d have a difficult time working side by side with Riley Cooper because of what he’d said.  Not me.

I’ve had a job for most of my life.  I’ve been working for 22 years. I don’t get up every morning and go to a job because I don’t have anything better to do. (I happen to really enjoy what I do, however, if I hit the PowerBall . . . deuces!)  I go to a job because I have goals and aspirations that require the funding gainful employment provides. I work so that I can live – not the other way around. I work to support my real life, the life where the people I love, and who love me, reside.  As such, I can work with people who don’t love me.  I can work with people I don’t love.  I can work with people who hold views that are in direct contradiction to my own views. I can work with people who I think are soulless human beings.  I can work with people for whom I hold zero respect.  Why? Because MY dreams, MY goals and MY aspirations are bigger than all of them.  My personal goals and well-being are far more important to me than a person to whom I will likely never speak once we no longer work together. So why would I let someone so incredibly insignificant to me adversely impact my livelihood? I wouldn’t!  Plain and simple.  I’m not going to let some idiot get between me and what I have planned for my life.  Stay stupid my friend.  Stay.  Stupid. I’ve got a life to live and goals to reach.