Here's Obama in response to Reverend Wright:

"I gave him the benefit of the doubt in my speech in Philadelphia explaining that he's done enormous good. ... But when he states and then amplifies such ridiculous propositions as the U.S. government somehow being involved in AIDS. ... There are no excuses. They offended me. They rightly offend all Americans and they should be denounced."

I am by no means insinuating that the Government created AIDS as a device to kill people of color. I will say that the idea of the government using poor, black people in deadly scientific studies is well documented (Tuskegee Experiment).

I know Obama is in a tough spot, but this whole thing is turning me off. I don't believe that his beliefs are much different than Rev. Wright's. Giving the politically correct answers, he's being safe, but it's coming across as disingenuous. I'll admit, some of my feelings may stem from not being used to hearing a black man be so overtly patriotic in the face of a racial debate. Wright however, is on some level exhibiting 'crabs in a barrel' behavior by timing his public appearances at such a crucial time in the primary. Watching these two men go at each other now, is a bit of a disappointment.

McCain is a happy man.

It's funny how Raven-Symone was almost totally ignored during her years as a Disney star. She acted like she had sense, has good body image and managed her money well. Her parents should be behavior consultants for other Disney star parents.

By the way...loved this movie.

I've watched a lot of television. There was a time when I could tell you the entire line-up of most networks. Not so much anymore. Tonight my pickings were slim..."Paradise Hotel," "Dancing with the Stars," "Deal, or no Deal," "Men are Stupid" ("Men are Stupid" isn't an actual show, but the premise of 97% of sitcoms).

I chose "Seinfeld."

I admit, I didn't watch "Seinfeld" initially. It was on against "New York Undercover." Back in those days, Fox was UPN. Thursday night was all about "Martin," "Living Single," and "NY Undercover."




There is nothing more joyless and entertaining as a group of stressed, underpaid and overwhelmed virtual strangers singing happy birthday. The best part is the lingering after the song. No one knows when it's okay to leave the conference room. It's usually a V.P. who bolts first. The assistant always follows. The last people left are usually the guest of honor and the lowest ranking H.R. exec who has to clean up.




By the way...R&C eventually stopped reimbursing V.P.'s for the cake parties and mandated that departments cease having separate events. I wish I'd kept that email. We were then forced to celebrate all the birthdays for the month at one large shindig. The first monthly celebration was great. We had ice cream cake. Too bad the party planner forgot to let the cake defrost. I hope my memory of people trying to saw through an oversized frozen cake never fades.

This week we get to see Romany in "Baby Mama." From the moment we meet him in the film as the doorman, wearing an iPod, rapping, I knew that Tina and Amy's characters would be in good hands...even though his character doesn't appear to take care of his own responsibilities.

Don't get me wrong. Romany is talented, funny, handsome and probably a smart guy. He's made good choices in terms of the projects he chooses. "Weeds" is good, even if I find the idea of it being cute to sell drugs as long as it's in the suburbs, slightly arrogant. "Baby Mama" was good too. It's just that, well...I see at least one limo driving role in his future. It's not a bad thing, Morgan drove all the way to the Oscars.

Janet received the Vanguard Award at the 19th Annual GLAAD Media Awards at Hollywood’s Kodak Theatre yesterday night.


She keeps "the girls" on display :)

Ran across this picture and it made me smile. It was taken August 23rd 1998 at Arrowhead Pond in Anaheim. The Velvet Rope Tour. Ahhh...the memories. Standing off-camera is my buddy Teresa Baker. I probably paid $20 for this Polaroid and I'm so happy that I did. If you know me well, you know I've been mildly obsessed with Miss Jackson since the "Young Love" days. Yeah, I was on the Janet train before Control. I remember all of the Solid Gold, Dance Fever and Bandstand performances.

I'd actually already seen the concert three nights before at the Forum in L.A. Shout out to Jamiah for the hook-up. We were right up on the stage. I swear Janet looked right at me. The Forum is now a church. I'd gone there one night to see New Edition and Keith Sweat and then like two weeks later, I was in there for Easter services. I had better seats for New Edition.

The Rhythm Nation show was my first concert. I was young and very excited about hopping the train from Newark Penn Station to Madison Square Garden with my two buddies Will & Yusef. We felt so grown. The Garden is still my favorite place to see a show. Well, it's my favorite place to see a big show. I love the House of Blues on Sunset for something a little more intimate.

I can't call a favorite show at the House of Blues. You can't choose between the Fugees, Erykah Badu, Jill Scott, Eric Benet (it was empty, but he still did his thing), Rahsaan Patterson, the list goes on. I will say that seeing The Roots one night about ten years ago was almost a religious experience. There was a cloud of smoke so thick by the end of the night that everyone was feeling very nice. They went overtime and were supposed to get off-stage. The lights came on, but they kept playing old school TV theme songs that we sang along with like our lives depended on it. A thousand high ass people singing "The Jeffersons". Priceless.

The best show I've seen in years, maybe the best show ever, was Prince at the Staples Center. Musicology. Again, I was with Teresa. Floor seats. Row 4. Center. The way the stage was set up, I could almost touch him. I've never seen that many people totally lose their minds. Listening to "Purple Rain" live, I can't even tell you.

Lawrence Fishburne was on the "Late, Late, Late, Late Show with Craig Ferguson" tonight. It's been a minute since I've seen him and it was kind of jarring. He's turning into James Earl Jones. That's not a bad thing. They're both fine actors. Now that I think about it...a remake of "Claudine" with Lawrence and Angela Bassett starring could be interesting.

I meant to post this yesterday...Robin Roberts decided to shed the wig she's worn since going through chemo. I don't normally watch GMA, but I happened to flip to it yesterday and saw this stunning woman sitting on the couch. She looks AMAZING! I won't even slip into the easy trap of calling her 'brave,' or 'heroic'...she just looks damn good!!!

As I continued to flip channels on my way to "Good Day LA" and "KTLA Morning news", I stopped on the Today Show to watch the beautiful and talented Alicia Keys screeching her way through "No One". I wonder how it feels to reach the level of success where people totally ignore your shortcomings. I like Alicia more than I actually like her music. She seems to be grounded, charitable, and a genuine artist. Her CD's haven't done it for me yet. I think she's yet to have a cohesive piece, like a "Miseducation of Lauryn Hill." I love that she can play instruments. I love that she writes, but her music often feels like basic R&B with the illusion of outstanding artistry...but back to the screeching, how does she get away with that continuously????

I meant for this to be a positive post. Well, um...Robin really, really looks good.

During my spring cleaning today, I thought about how nice it was to exchange letters. I've hung on to quite a few old letters. To be honest, I don't remember being as close to some people as I apparently was. In some cases, I have no idea of who the letter writer is. Time.

I noticed tonight that I made a habit of writing letters that I did not send. A couple are sealed and I am going to leave them that way, a time capsule of sorts. Most are just handwritten pieces of paper that have now become an accidental time and place record of my life. Most of the letters were written in the first couple years out of college. Back then, unlimited long distance did not exist. I remember $500 phone bills from my first year in L.A. Most of my friends were still back east.

The interesting thing about reading a couple of the letters that I'd written is that I had many of the same issues I have now, but with a much different perspective on them. In most of the letters I'm talking about how exciting the City of Angels is and how I don't mind the struggle of making it here. I came out to a couple people...well not really since I didn't mail the letters. I talk about my first boyfriend, my job at Tannery West, meeting Heather Locklear, being poor, being blessed, career opportunities, hope, despair, gossip etc.

One letter however, I did mail. It was typed. There's actually white-out on it. I'm sure I copied it on to some good Kinko's paper and sent it off. It was a letter to the students at my alma mater's Mass Media department. I'd been asked to write something that could be posted on the bulletin board for students to read. It's actually pretty funny to read now. I'd only been out of school for a couple months. I was a baby, but I was living in the big city, so I felt very grown-up. It's cute.

One thing in the letter struck me though. I'm surprised I had that sort of insight at that time. Too bad I haven't always followed what I apparently have always known. I wrote:

"If you want to direct movies, direct one. If you want to produce commercials, produce one. If you want to be a writer, then write. Nobody's going to care about the Radio Club, Delta Delta Delta, or Alpha Kappa Xi. All people are going to care about is whether you really want it and whether you're willing to do what it takes; and then when your break comes, you'll have product. If you don't, how can they determine if you are ready, or not. My point, is quite simply, do it now!!"

I'm glad that I found that tonight. I'll be taking some of my own advice.

Eleven years ago, flipping through 4Front, a free magazine that I picked up strolling the streets of LA, I ran across what was purported to be a MIT graduation speech given by Kurt Vonnegut. I was only a couple years out of school then, so the advice felt relevant.

I ripped the page out and have held on to it all these years. I've looked at the speech a couple times since then, but as the "speech" says, "you'll never understand the power and beauty of youth until they are faded." So true.

I'm doing a little cleaning and sorting. I'm a pack rat. I keep a lot of things. Some of it is junk. Most of the things I've hung on to tell some sort of story. I haven't been faithful at keeping a journal, but I can open a box and recall very specific events and feelings in my life. I ran across this speech tonight while cleaning. It was significant to me tonight because well, I'm not so young anymore. I read it with much different eyes than I had in 1997. It was also striking because in its simplicity, it's very insightful.

As it turns out, the speech was not given at MIT and was not written by Kurt Vonnegut. It was written by a Chicago Tribune columnist who I assume is very pissed that her most noted piece is attributed to someone else. The most certain piece of advice given in the 'speech' is that you have to wear sunscreen. I just started wearing it a couple months ago. I guess it's better late than never. There are other things in the "speech" that I've done all along and a few that I'd still like to do. What I got from the "speech" then and what I still get now is that you have to:

• Be easy on yourself
• Live
• Accept certain truths
• Nurture important relationships

Simple.

"Wear Sunscreen"

Ladies and gentlemen of the class of '97:

Wear sunscreen.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.

Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself.

Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't.

Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary.

Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's.

Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.

Read the directions, even if you don't follow them. Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble, and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out. Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen.

Kindness



Before you know what kindness really is you must lose things,

feel the future dissolve in a moment

like salt in a weakened broth.



What you held in your hand,what you counted and carefully saved,

all this must go so you knowhow desolate the landscape can be

between the regions of kindness.



How you ride and ride thinking the bus will never stop,

the passengers eating maize and chicken

will stare out the window forever.



Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,

you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho

lies dead by the side of the road.



You must see how this could be you,

how he too was someone who journeyed through the night

with plans and the simple breath that kept him alive.



Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,

you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.



You must wake up with sorrow.



You must speak to it till your voice catches the thread of all sorrows

and you see the size of the cloth.



Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,

only kindness that ties your shoes and sends you out into the day

to mail letters and purchase bread,

only kindness that raises its headfrom the crowd of the world to say

it is I you have been looking for,

and then goes with you every where

like a shadow or a friend.


Naomi Shihab Nye





Thanks for sharing this twin.

Then, about fifteen minutes into the show, the real fun began...the other half of people who purchased tickets began to show up. C.P. Time was in full effect. I could not make out the first 30 minutes of the play. I had to keep standing up to let people slide into their seats. Once the talking stopped, the snacking began. The collective sound of about 100 snack sized bags of Cheetos filled my ears. Just when I thought it couldn't get worse, the woman sitting front of me, got moved by one of Shemar's lines and felt that she had to let him know. She yelled, from the balcony, "All right now!" Shemar heard her; stopped talking and smiled. The audience applauded as if any of that was appropriate. It had been such a mess, by the time the shower scene took place and Shemar began to disrobe, I was totally unfazed by the hundreds of flashes that went off from women's cameras.

Tonight at the ballet, we thought we were safe from that type of behavior. W-R-O-N-G!!! The crowd seemed okay, but looks can be deceiving. Folks must've said, "To hell with my seat number." People were just sitting where ever they felt and had attitude when the proper ticket holders wanted their seats. After watching several rounds of musical chairs, the lights went down and the show began. The dancing was amazing. They looked beautiful onstage. So beautiful in fact, that a woman sitting behind us decided to snap a picture. What?!?

This can't be happening. It's ballet. Then I noticed another flash. This time it wasn't a camera. It was somebody who was apparently expecting a very important call. Her bluetooth, hanging in her right ear, was flashing in my peripheral. That blue light was on my nerves. I'm easily distracted. Then, like a scene from any local Magic Johnson Theater, a man sitting behind me yells, "Dance Now!" Stop it. Am I at the f*ckin' Apollo?!? Womp! Womp!

The shenanigans wouldn't stop...more flashing, more photos, more shouting at the stage. I hate people. This is why I sit at home with my cats. Hate is a strong word, I just, well...would rather not be around strangers most of the time. The kicker was a group of people coming down from the balcony during intermission and sitting in people's seats. The seats had programs and jackets in them...an indicator that someone was siting there. When the folks came back to their seats after intermission, the rude balcony people handed them there belongings as if they paid for those seats. I mighta had to fight them if that was me getting booted from my paid for seats, even if I had on my good shoes.

It was a wonderful evening. Seriously, it was. We had a great time. The performance was fantastic and I highly recommend seeing a Complexions show if you have the chance. Just make sure you get there early enough to claim your seat.

http://www.complexionsdance.org/index.php

Just a few words from my favorite filmmaker on his new movie, Obama and the war.

I know many of you have banned TBS because of "House of Payne," but if you can bring yourself to turn back to that network, check out "10 Items or Less." It's sort of like "The Office," minus the trying too hard to be different thing. It's funny. Most sitcoms aren't nowadays and I give it bonus points for shooting in an actual supermarket (Jon's in Reseda, CA) during business hours. It's a good show so it probably has low ratings and will be cancelled soon (ie: Freaks & Geeks, Rags to Riches, Watching Ellie, Generations, The Comeback - Valerie Cherish was the best! )

I've had a couple other mild cases car obsessions like the Jetta (as seen in late '80's MC Lyte's "Paper Thin").

So, here I am now with a new obsession and I'm not quite sure how I feel about it because, well...it's a Buick. A Buick? I don't know, that just sounds crazy to me, like I've never heard anyone say, "I gotta have that Buick Skylark."

I went to the L.A. car show w/my boo this past fall and there it was...a vision in cocoa mettalic, the 2008 Buick Enclave.

I wish I could say that it was some sort of patriotic reason, like buying American that attracted me to the Enclave. I don't even know cars well enough to get into the specifications. It's just cute. Obsessing over a Buick changes everything for me. Who knows? Maybe next week, I'll go shopping at JcPenney.

Read More 0 comments | Posted by Hampton06 |

Marlon Riggs "Tongues Untied" was a performance art film hidden under the guise of a documentary. It was a poetic look at black gay men's struggle to love themselves while being suppressed by both the white and black dominant heterosexual culture. I don't know how I even knew this film existed at sixteen. I must've just been flipping channels. Who knows, maybe I was aware that it was coming on. I watched PBS regularly growing up. All I know is that I'd never been more frightened at being caught doing something in my life.

I sat directly in front of the TV so I could turn the channel immediately if someone walked into my room. I didn't know how I'd explain watching this film, about black men, loving black men. To be honest, I couldn't really fully absorb what I was seeing. It was all too much, but I couldn't turn away. There was a sense of power that I'd never seen associated with being "that way." To make matters worse, Dana called. She always called at the same time every night.

So, I sat there, on the phone with my girlfriend, watching "Tongues Untied", with one hand on the dial (there was no remote action on my bedroom TV) and my heart palpitating from both fear and excitement. Until that point, "Caligula" was probably the most sexual film that I'd seen. Actually, I'd seen some porn before, but "Tongues Untied" was different. It had an urgency and a passion that my sixteen year old brain could not fully consume. I didn't know whether to masturbate, or cry as I listened to the poetry and stories of sex, prejudice and AIDS.

All the while, I'm on the phone with Dana and I knew something had changed. I wasn't on the DL, or any of that foolishness. I was young. I was still figuring out what's what. I do remember feeling in that moment that I was going to have to make some choices. I couldn't ignore the doubt and questioning anymore.

Tongues Untied - Trailer

Read More 1 Comment | Posted by Hampton06 |

As you go about doing your daily activities this on April 4th, take a moment to remember Dr. Martin Luther King. This year marks the 40th anniversary of his assassination. He was, as you all know, just 39 years old. Just thinking about that makes me wonder if I've done much of anything.

I can't help but to think about how many children participated in the civil rights movement. It's incredible when you think about how many kids, felt so much passion and organized to help move society in a better direction. I think that not enough time is spent celebrating the enormous advancements we've made in this country. We tend to focus of what we don't have, or all of the wrongs that still exist. Take a moment to respect what we've been able to do. And then when that moment's over...go find a way to have an impact in your community.

The sad fact is that many kids couldn't tell you much about Dr. Martin Luther King today. I watched the Los Angeles King Day Parade a few years back and cringed as this child being interviewed on live TV did not know who Martin was. I blame his parents. Although, chances are, his mom didn't know much about Martin either.

If you need a reason, or some shock therapy to get you motivated to become active in your community, go on You Tube. It's frightening. In the 60's the larger need was social change for racial equality. Now, I think instead of marches and protests against Don Imus and Kramer, we need to focus on the next challenge - raising our children. No one's stopping us from doing that in the same way we weren't allowed to vote. So, what's the excuse?

Watch the clips...there's some talent, somewhere, down deep. Just think of what these kids could do if they had an actual dance class, or parents. If any Terps from the Pirate Roundup are reading this, maybe you can help. Of course, these kids need an ass whuppin' first, but then they can go to a dance class.

Each one, teach one.