I’m Getting Soft Y’all

In my old age I’m getting soft and used to my necessary comforts.

Take for instance this afternoon. After getting out of a meeting, I got in my car and turned the ignition. Nothing. Not a sound. I tried again. Again nothing. The third time did not prove to be the charm either.

So what did I do? I simply got out, whipped out my blackberry to call AAA, and headed for the air-conditioned comfort of the building. Before I was halfway there and as I was waiting for AAA to pick up (must have been a number of other lazy knuckleheads out there today), an image of my dad shaking his head and tsk-tsk-tsk-ing popped into my head. Negro, at least shake the battery cable. Do something before you give in the voice chided me.

So, back to my car I went. I popped the hood and guess what? A cable was loose. I’m puzzled as to how it got loose, but it was loose nonetheless. I got back in, turned the key, and the car started right up. My point?

Back in the day it would have not gone down like this. First of all, even if cell phones were available, I would not have been able to afford one. And I certainly would not have had AAA. Hell, I didn’t even have car insurance. I just drove around with my fingers crossed. So, I would have gotten out and done whatever it took to get my car started and get on down the road.

I don’t know. Maybe this is progress. Maybe I should be grateful that I’m blessed to have a back-up plan. Maybe I’m just too old to still be living by my wits as I was then. But still, I should have at least tried first. My dad would have. My uncles would have. And at one time, I would have.

I’m just glad my son was not there to witness my foolishness.

A Desperate Plea for Help

Dammit. It happened again. Again I've wasted most of my day on Facebook.

After yesterday, I thought I'd learned my lesson. So this morning I got up with a schedule designed to make up for the time I lost yesterday. I got up really early and planned to work really late.

Everything started out okay. I got up early. I got my coffee. I sat down at my computer. But before I got started, I decided to just check my Facebook page. I knew it was the wrong thing to do.

First, a message from an old friend. I had to answer back. Actually, I was excited to see it. Before I could finish answering the message, I got an instant message from an old classmate. So, I got caught in a long back and forth. I checked out a couple photo albums and surprised a few people on their walls. Then I checked my clock. Shit. Time wasted. Back to square one.

Now what? I'm behind and running out of time. I thought I was more responsible. I thought I had more self-control. Help!

All Caught up in a Craze

Call me snobbish, but I usually frown on adults who get caught up in crazes. I have a thirty-five year old nephew who spends much of his free time playing video games. And take for instance this Facebook thing, which my wife insists that it’s a lot like my blogging, but that’s another argument for another day. But anyway, I know quite a few adults who seem to invest an inordinate amount of time on this whole Facebook “experience,” and it seems, or seemed, like a big waste of time.

Well, it’s about four in the afternoon on a Saturday. I find myself behind on my honey-do and gotta do lists. You see, I’ve spent the last four hours or so absolutely engrossed in Facebook. And I feel so utterly and absolutely ashamed of myself.

I set up a Facebook account a few weeks back to simply to keep track of my teenage children. After months of them begging me to get a Facebook account, I finally acquiesced. Anyway, some old friends that I haven’t seen in years “found” my Facebook page. And then a friend from high school found my page and suggested that I join my high school’s alumni Facebook group. That led to this morning when I awoke to find messages from several high school friends. So to make a long story short, I’ve spend most of my day catching up and trading pictures.

Now my wife is pissed because the lawn still looks a mess. I’m pissed because I haven’t gotten anything done that I wanted to get done today. And my children are really pissed because they have a feeling that I’ll renege on my promise to take them to the mall.

So, I’m not really sure if Facebook is a waste of time or not. In a strange sort of way, I enjoyed myself today. I was able to chat with some old friends and take a stroll down memory lane. I even had a laugh or two. But those things I really should have been accomplishing seem to fall by the wayside. But one thing I’m still sure about. Grown men spending hours and hours playing video games is some silly shit. Maybe I’ll try it one day.

Reefer Madness

Do me a favor, please. If you ever sparked the leaf, raise your hand. You know, burned one. Chiefed. Smoked a phatty.

Some of you are not being very honest. I should see more hands than that. I’m almost certain of it. But I understand. Some of you have professional and personal concerns that prevent your complete honesty. Me? Well, I have professional and personal concerns that prevent me from being completely honest (mostly professional).

Let’s just say I do not partake at this time. However, it seems to me there are a number of persons around me who do and who do on a very regular basis. And it’s not like I hang out with a bunch of degenerates or low-lifes. I’m talking about doctors, lawyers, professors, businessmen—respected professionals.

But let me get to my point. I don’t have a scientific survey to back up my hypothesis, but I suspect that the number of marijuana users has remained constant over the years, if not increased. But the laws making marijuana illegal have not changed. Why?

It has been suggested that marijuana laws simply cost us more than they are worth. And as we found out during prohibition, even the most well meant laws sometimes have devastating results. Out of the effort to rid the country of that demon alcohol, a whole new criminal enterprise was born.

Furthermore, given our current economic situation, can we still afford to not legalize marijuana? Just think of the tax revenue legalizing marijuana would bring. Just think of the number of criminals who would be put out of business, the number of persons we don’t have to feed and cloth and house in that enormous corporate entity we call the prison system.

But marijuana is a gateway drug. If we legalize it, we make it easier for kids to get. Is it not easy for them to procure marijuana now? Don’t fool yourself. If kids want to get it, that will get it. When you were underage, did you not manage to purchase alcohol? Even though marijuana was and has always been illegal, as a teenager, were you not able to purchase marijuana?

I am not an anarchist. But I do believe that we must go back and re-evaluate this law. Again, I am not a marijuana fan. I don’t even use marijuana. But to not legalize marijuana at this point is not very smart. It is simply madness, reefer madness.

Where is Tavis?

A few years back, Tavis Smiley seemed ubiquitous. I mean, he was on TV. He was on the radio. He had one or two books out. Then suddenly during the last presidential election, he seemed to disappear. Not that I was a big Tavis Smiley fan, mind you. I think my attitude toward him could best be summed up as one of indifference at best. But for a while, he seemed to be the voice of African America, and then just as quickly, I heard nothing else from him. What gives?

Where's the Beef?: Toward a Definition of African American Literature

Today I walked into my favorite chain bookstore (I mostly frequent used bookstores or independents), and I was immediately greeted by the manager who informed me that the store had greatly expanded its African American literature section. I had previously complained to him about the paucity of African American literature.

Let’s just say I was somewhat taken aback by what I saw. Indeed, the store has expanded its collection of African American literature. However, this expansion was predominated by what is commonly referred to as urban literature. Titles such as Thug Misses, In My Hood, and Thug Matrimony stood out from the shelves. In fact, every title seemed to have either the words “thug” or “‘hood” in it. They even had rap artist Fifty Cents’ G-Unit collection. I didn't even know he had a book collection.

They did have the old stand-bys available, you know Frederick Douglas, Toni Morrison, the classics. But as I said, the bulk of the collection was made up of urban literature.

Now don’t get me wrong. I’m perhaps not as bourgeois as you think. As a young man, I read Iceberg Slim and the entire Donald Goines collection. And after each reading, for a few minutes I was gangsta’, but then reality set in and I went back to my ordinary, everyday busta’ self. Even now, from time to time I'll pick up some absolute foolishness.

But my question is if African American literature is supposed to reflect the African American experience, what does mainstream America define that experience to be?

I believe that the African American experience is varied and all facets of this experience should be represented, but what happens when only one facet becomes representative of the whole experience?

Perhaps, I am being a bit snobbish about this. Maybe I should be glad that more African Americans are writing and more African Americans are reading, regardless of what they write and read. But in the same instance, I recall the old Wendy's commercial when the old lady demands, "Where's the beef?" So, I am asking, "Where's the substance?"

Antislavery Literature Project

I got word about this project this morning from a listserv that I subscribe to. I took a brief stroll through the site and was impressed. Here is all the information as it was relayed to me:

The Antislavery Literature Project has opened three new collections.

The Legacies collection is co-edited by Holly Kent (Lehigh University), Joe Lockard (Arizona State), and Zoe Trodd (Harvard). This collection explores the intellectual and political contributions of the abolitionist movement until World War I and historical appreciations of abolitionists. A video by Zoe Trodd links these abolitionist memories to the emergence ofthe mid-twentieth-century Civil Rights Movement.

The John Brown Poetry collection presents an annotated selection of the hundreds of poems published between 1859-1920 that provide representations of John Brown and Harpers Ferry. Interpretive podcasts and poetry translations accompany the collection.

A Frederick Douglass Translations collection examines the translation history of the writings of Frederick Douglass in the context of early African American literature translations. The Project historicizes these translations and provides podcast readings of Douglass in such languages as French, Hebrew, and Spanish.

The Antislavery Literature Project, established in 2003, undertakes public scholarship by providing free, accessible digital editions of the literatures of slavery and the antislavery movement in the United States. It is based in the English Department of Arizona State University and works in collaboration with the EServer at Iowa State University. A community of scholars supports the Project efforts.