My Real Life Noah's Arc Episode

Like so many of us, I went out to support the Noah’s Arc movie. Although I have always looked at the show from a very critical vantage point, I still felt some obligation to go out and support. I can’t really say that I thought it was all that great of a movie as I found there to be a number of things that I saw flawed in the film. Many folks love the series and the movies because they say they see themselves in the characters – I for one have never felt that way. So it strikes me as odd that my life at the moment feels like an edited scene from Noah’s Arc.

So after me and my homie lover friend ended whatever it was we had, we decided to be friends. When he broke up with his boyfriend I was there to lend a shoulder and a hand. I would be a liar if I said the possibility of us being in a relationship didn't pop up in my head from time to time. Yet, I had met someone great that I was/am getting to know and he needed time to deal with ending a four year relationship. We would joke about him dating and so on, but it was all in jest and neither of us were really seeing anyone seriously at the moment. Last week we spoke and he was telling me about a guy that he was kind of interested in. I told him he should try it out. Though I found out last night that they been out on a date before he decided to bring him up to me. So today he invited me to have dinner with him and the guy. I feel like shit. Because out of know where all these feelings have come flooding in. Now the question is why wasn't I good enough? I am jealous. I am envious. I am hurt. I feel unwanted, undesired and relegated on to the ranks of a friend not good enough to exist with.

I'm trying to figure out what this all means. Am I in love with this Negro? Damn. I definitely need to work through my emotions. I think that I'm going to go to dinner. Look amazing. Bake a wonderful desert. Be my charming smart self and keep it moving. Let's pray that I don't fall to pieces, cry, cuss anybody out or fight.

At the end of the movie Ricky reveals to Noah that he loves him and he can't understand why Noah can't love him the way that he loves Wade. The resolution - Noah and Wade get married and everyone is happy. Only tomorrow will tell how this one all pans out.

Just Because...

1. So I went to this party an amazing penthouse apartment with views of the city. It was beautifully maintained and the party was really well organized – there was a bartender, the food was catered and the crowd was beautiful. The thing that bothered me though, was it seemed as if nobody was having a good time. Everyone seemed to be too absorbed by their new Gucci loafers or their Alexander McQueen scarf turned ascot. After 15 minutes I was bored and ready to depart. I needed a little something more – something more festive. Am I asking for too much?

2. Do we do sex parties? Is there protocol?

3. I’m going to see the Noah’s Arc movie this weekend, but isn’t the DL Chronicles like a million times better?

4. I thought Miracle at St. Ana was an amazing movie. In fact, I think I’m going to do a throwback look and rock a part like Laz Alonzo.

5. I love Thelma Golden!

6. I joined a book club and the focus right now is James Baldwin.

7. I kind of love the Housewives of Atlanta. It’s such a guilty pleasure.

8. A friend of mine is moving to Atlanta in high hopes of taking the city by storm. He thinks that his NY swagger will have Atlantans dazed and confused. I’m not sure if he knows what he’s getting himself into. Is Atlanta overrated?

9. Author and I used that really loosely, Zane, has a series on cinemax entitle Sex Chronicles, also the title of a series of her best selling books. I watched the first two episodes this past weekend and was under whelmed. The script was cheesy and the sex scenes were whack as hell. It’s really disheartening because black erotica on cable is almost unheard of, the fact that it fails to at the very least be hot is very disappointing. I don’t want to see titties flapping for 30 minutes or listen to the cheesy porn-like music.

10. I lost my blackberry last week. Other than losing numbers I may never get again, I realized that there were a number of not so appropriate pictures that were stored in my phone. I’m just going to shake my head.

11. My birthday is next week. I’ve had a recent obsession with nudity, and I am considering doing some semi-nude pictures for my birthday. I’m not sure if I’m beach body ready though? In fact, I’m not, but I am still excited by the whole idea of it.

12. I’m moving to Brooklyn.

13. I feel a little bit out of touch with all the economic stuff that’s happening right now. I have not felt any changes.

14. When I return to law school I have decided to do a joint program – getting a JD and a PhD. Call me Dr.

15. Happy Birthday Scorpios!

A Bus Ride, A Man, Questions

You never know what you're going to get on the streets of Harlem, especially on a Saturday morning before night has turned into day. Revelers head home after an evening of dance and debauchery with old friends, new acquaintances make there way to dimly lit rooms where they will exchange Hennessey flavored kisses, unbutton shirts rife with tinges of smoke and YSL and devour each other with thrust and groans, arched backs, curled toes and beads of sweat that make a trail down the spine. Oh yes, this is Harlem on a Saturday morning before the sun's arrival. I know, I have been a participant, but this morning I will settle for merely being a voyeur. Make no mistake, it aint all sexy, this is still Harlem, and on early mornings like this one you find folks making there way work - relief for the third shift, doe boys on the corner jockeying for customer and those without homes making refuge in coveys of store fronts and bank vestibules happy for Harlem's brand of peace and quiet. I am on the other hand performing a ritual different from both groups, making my way to catch a bus bound for Washington DC to see someone - a friend certainly - a lover possibly. We had met during a literary exchange on James Baldwin and have been exchanging courtesies via late night phone calls and midday emails ever since. I met eyes with the others on the street that early morning as I made my way to the train. They were just as curious about my early morning plight - urban boy carrying an overnight bag and wearing a Colgate smile - as I was of theirs. On the train I had nagging feeling that I had left something behind - yep I thought - toothpaste and a toothbrush. No worries though, this was easy enough to replace. The train was quiet, half full, and even though there was no commotion going on, you could feel energy at rest humming through the train car. Getting off the train my mind became peopled with thousands of thoughts.

I boarded the bus. My excitement weaned and was replaced by sleepiness, I knew then that skimming the pages of GQ wouldn't be enough to keep me from curling up into a crescent and placing my nocturne head on the window for a 4 hour nap. My sleeping was met with a platitude of teeth sucking and heavy sighs - I snore and find no necessity to apologize for those things that are beyond my control, so these expressions of distain did nothing more than encourage me to rest my eyes a bit. When I arrived in DC I made a mad dash to Starbucks to make use of the facilities, my bladder thanked me. After handling my business, I sent him a message letting him know that I had arrived in one piece. It was a miracle that I wasn't shanked on the bus. He was still in route. Not a big concern for me. I ordered coffee and made small talk with this Asian kid about sneakers. I was really excited once he arrived. We hadn't really made plans and check in at the hotel wasn't until 3. We did a little walking. A little talking. He seemed really tired, which was cool, but at the same time not so much, it makes it hard to wade out whether this tiredness is self-induced out of non-interest or the real deal. We had lunch which provided for a boost from the previous hum-drum. He was beginning to liven up a little bit. Once I checked in we went up to the room and talked and laughed and played. This was more like the guy I had come to know. We both needed a nap. So we slept. It was nice. He lay next to me in his boxer briefs and t-shirt. I was a taste more conservative in sweats and a t-shirt. This seemed so foreign, but at the same time very domestic - safe, at home.

We went out for dinner, and as we waited it became quite apparent that he was the "touchy feely" type. We had discussed, but I'm not sure how one really prepares for that. PDA is really not my thing. So when I suggested he stop, I felt his disappointment. I felt bad, but at the same time I didn't have ill intent and it made me feel uncomfortable. I could see that he was sensitive. If previous relationships had taught me anything, it was that I usually didn't fair all that well with guys or girls that required this kind of attention. I made a mental note. I knew this needed to be addressed. I had requested Busboys and Poets as everyone I knew in DC had made mention of it at least once. It was cool… the service horrible, but cool nonetheless. We walked back to the hotel. I stopped to get a toothbrush. It was nice. Nice to talk to a guy with a good head on his shoulders that showed consideration. He was really nice, smart and attractive I thought. Once we got back to the hotel, I felt my Scorpio nature rise within me. He indulged me, but was tired. I order dessert while he slept. The following morning eager to pick up where I left off, I felt a little let down as I felt that the goal was to please me and nothing else. We headed out and grabbed brunch in Adam's Morgan. He insisted on carrying my bag, I insisted I could take care of it myself. I like a gentleman, but I'm capable. I'm not looking for every door to be held open for me. I wasn't due to leave until seven, so after brunch we went for coffee and hashed out some things. I had a chance to meet his best friend. She was charming and called things as she saw them. I so appreciate that. Before I came to DC there was certainty. At this point I'm left with a lot of questions, some that I need to explore alone, others I need to explore with him. I arrived home after midnight. I was exhausted. And as I walked down that same block in Harlem that I had done many hour before I smiled to myself knowing that whatever happens this was a no lose situation.

Wonder...

"Janie had spent most of the day under a blossoming pear tree in the back-yard. She had been spending every minute that she could steal from her chores under that tree for the last three days. That was to say, ever since the first tiny bloom had opened. It had called her to come and gaze on a mystery. From barren brown stems to glistening leaf-buds; from the leaf-buds to snowy virginity of bloom. It stirred her tremendously. How? Why? It was like a flute song forgotten in another existence and remembered again. What? How? Why? This singing she heard that had nothing to do with her ears. The rose of the world was breathing out smell. It followed her through all her waking moments and caressed her in her sleep. It connected itself with other vaguely felt matters that had struck her outside observation and buried themselves in her flesh. Now they emerged and quested about her consciousness."

This is pretty damn close to what/how I've been feeling this past week or so. Since my "break-up" it's really been about getting back out there on the dating scene. I didn't want to spend days and days rehashing the events of the break-up over and over again. What was the point? As a result, I began to engage a few guys I had met along the way. They were all pretty different. They ranged in age from 22-32. From student to self employed. From feminine to masculine. I had my bases covered. I scheduled dates here and there… bowling… dinner… the park… a concert. It was fun. They were great guys, but I questioned how far we could go. Still I entertained and enjoyed the ride, when out of left field this kind of amazing dude presents himself. He's dope. He presented himself from a friend perspective, which I could so vibe with, but the more we talked the more I wondered into territories that expanded beyond friendship.

The homie-lover-friend called the other day. His boyfriend broke up with him. I listened and let him know I was "sorry." I thought I would get sucked back in… but all I could think about was picking up my conversation with this dude. I regard him with wonder.

Why Emil Wilbekin won't be on the "Do Right Man" List

In recent years I have grown weary of the diluted content in most magazines, especially those that specifically target the African American population. This weekend I happened to pick up a copy of Essence while waiting for my homegirl to get ready for dinner out in the city. It was the "Do Right Men" issue. It profiled black men that are on point in all aspects of their lives. They have it together professionally, they give back to their communities and they are all single (there is a section for married men) and attractive. Why not call it "Straight, Single, Sexy Black Men?" I did mention that all the men were straight, right? I thought for a second that I was maybe being a taste too sensitive, yet upon further evaluation I thought nay. This is Essence that we are talking about here - the magazine that went on a witch hunt, deeming that sisters should be leery because their men could be on the down low. The message that is promoted here is that you can not be a good brother if you fall into certain categories - gay and or unattractive men need not apply - at least that's the underlying implication in my mind. I know the old saying “that all the good ones are gay," which is not true, but when the focus is placed on orientation it almost negates his "goodness." It forces me to call a number of things into question. As black women sound the battle cry that there are no good men - I scream back “Yes, there are, they just may not look like the ones featured in Essence." And really what black women are saying when they say "that all the good ones are gay" is he looks good on paper and that's what I want. The interest isn't on the MTA worker that may in fact be a really good brother. Articles like this are a disservice to black women. It cause them to become entrenched in this Hollywood constructed idea of what you should aspire to have. It also proves to be a disservice to black men, as this "salute" creates a chasm - that "good" is only equated by certain qualities. I guess we shouldn't hold our breath in anticipation for a list that would include Emil Wilbekin or Keith Boykin.

Changing My Password

As far back as I can remember, whenever I'm dating someone, or am in a relationship, I tend to use that person's names as password - be it to log into my email, login at work or as some sort of test question if just in case I forgot a password. I know it sound a little crazy, probably even a little unsafe, but I guess the psychology behind it is that serves as a reminder of that person and your association with them as something special. Whatever the case, this morning I logged in at work, and I was informed that my password expires in 2 days. I had an option to change it now or wait. I laughed to myself because my login is the home-lover-friend's name, and as of this morning our relationship has expired. I always knew I would know when it was time. That I would have to be prepared however the situation went down. I'll spare too many of the detail, but it wasn't the best experience… It was needed though. What I found out was that his was this unsated desire to be at a higher place of enlightenment- knowing and understanding the language, the correct responses and even helping other to explore and examine themselves, all while avoiding the situation himself. How easy it was for him to point out things that I should work on, when he wasn't really willing to do any work of his own. I was made to even believe that I had created this whole relationship… he said that I didn't even have the qualities that he would want from someone in a relationship. He said he couldn't understand why I would even think that he would leave his boyfriend of four years for me. It stung. Yet, we would lie together in his bed; hard flesh pressed against soft, when he needed a listening ear I was there, when he needed financial help I was there - so I was a bit thrown. So you're a user? I was even blamed for "disrespecting" his relationship with his boyfriend - though his licking and tasting, telling me he loved me and inviting me to mother's day dinner were not forms of disrespect? I had misinterpreted it all.

I thought that I would be sad… that I wouldn't be able to get out of bed this morning… that I would cry… but I'm actually ok. I that's not the kind of "love" I want. Despite his methods, he taught me so much and I can only appreciate that. We had begun to work on some things professionally together, so I'm trying to figure out how to resolve these things without there being a lot of complication. I understand my place in all of this. I understand my error. I take it. But when it's so fucked up… it's just that… so fucked up.

So this morning… instead of waiting two days… I change my password.

Ne me quitte pas

I rose early today. It’s the first morning of solitude that I’ve had in seven week after turning my apartment into a hostel it seems. My friend and former ex was my lodge mate for almost two months. I can’t really say that it was a bad experience. We have often that we would bite the bullet and get married if we both were still single at 30. Having share this time in my too small overpriced New York apartment, I don’t think it would be all that bad. We would stay up late nights and talk about everything from Jenifer Hudson (neither of us are fans) to politics to the cute boy behind the deli case at Whole Foods often times over strawberries dipped in sour cream and brown sugar or a bubbling bowl of cheese queso and chips. It was cool. As I looked out into the streets, the overcast sky with the infinite possibility of rain, Nina softly purring Ne me quitte pas and bustle of people scurrying to the train and into taxis the thought of companionship rest heavy on my soul.

Things had been strange. My friend departed and my homie-lover-friend returned from his trip to visit his boyfriend. While he was away, our conversations had been brief but really intense. He told me how much he missed me. I missed him too. There would be moments in the middle of the night where I would want to call. There would be moments where I would run into someone that smelled like him, shared his funny blue/grey eyes or someone that had the same stride of swagger and confidence that accompanies each of his steps. Damn. Pride. Respect. Fear. All held me hostage unable to dial those ten digits.

I went of a little date of sorts on Saturday – cocktails. I followed in up with an invitation to a dinner party on Sunday. I wanted let him know that he fucked me up. That I can’t even begin to imagine my life with someone that doesn’t embodied the qualities that he possesses despite a cute face, fat ass, personality and 401k.

When he got in last night I headed over. Sweats, a t-shirt, a fitted – I was posturing. I wanted him to think that I didn’t care. I should never play poker, because as soon as I saw him the façade melted away. We talked. I didn’t want to ask too many questions. Did you break up with him? I wanted to know, but I was afraid of the answer. He asked me about our relationship and how I defined us to other people. I took the safe route and said friends with possibilities, when in my heart you are my lover, my confidant, advisor, teacher, friend and homeboy. I wanted to lay with him all night. He was nervous. I guess that meant no break-up. I wondered home around 1 – a homeless lover in search of a fix. I wasn’t sure what to feel. I texted the guy from Saturday. He responded with “what you trying to do this late.” My reply was “trying to see you.” It wasn’t truth but I need to purge my pain. What better way than slick skin pressed against each other, warm breath against necks and being inside a place that warm and safe if only for one night. Somewhere between texting and caressing my pillow, I fell asleep. The universe knows what’s right. I checked my phone and his last text asked if I was coming by or not. I responded with an apology this morning – I didn’t want to complicate his life with my shit.

The homie-lover-friend phone this morning to see if I was ok. I told him I needed companionship. He thought he was providing it for me. He is. But at the end of the day I go home alone. I don’t want that. Nor do I want to be a wet memory in between the sheets. I’m going to leave the office early today. We’re going to catch a movie. Maybe I’ll make dinner. Is this situation better than being with someone like the guy on Saturday? Who know anymore?

It’s starting to rain. I want to go out into it and let it wash me like a baptismal spray - washing away the insecurities and the unsure-ness that surround all of this. I don’t want him to leave, but I want all of him.

Damn that Nina Simone.

Studio Museum of Harlem, Dior, Love and Anthony David

Last night I had the opportunity to attend the opening of Kehinde Wiley's The World Stage: Africa, Lagos ~ Dakar, his first solo exhibition at The Studio Museum in Harlem which features ten new paintings from his multinational “The World Stage” series. It's amazing. I'm a huge fan of both Wiley and The Studio Museum of Harlem; the openings for new exhibitions are always something I look forward to. The openings usually draw an eclectic mix of folks - smart, hip, fashionable and trendsetters in their own regard and last night was no exception. The coupling of all this artistic energy and a few cocktails had me in bliss.

I have to talk about my purchase of the month for a second. I found a vintage Christian Dior track jacket this weekend. It's in great condition and a bought it for a steal. It doesn't get much better than that.

Moving on, I must admit that things are going really well with the homie-lover-friend. He's really an amazing man. I have never met anyone else like him. I've always said that my barometer for determining whether a relationship is worth it is "does he make me want to be a better man?" In this case - hell emphatically yes! We've been spending a lot of really good quality time together and merging our business interest as well. It seems to just flow. It may sound really strange, but he's taught me (still a work in progress because I have my moments) how to really love from an unconditional vantage point that's void of insecurity and ego. This means that I'm not seeking anything back in return. In this, his having a boyfriend has less of an affect on how I am able to be in this relationship because I love without the condition that he has to break up with his boyfriend. I know some folk may not be able to feel that, but that's where I am right now. I am also not going to block myself from anything else that may come along at this point. We will have to see how it all falls into place, though the homie-lover-friend has been doing a lot of talk about us settling in Atlanta.

I have officially decided that will not be returning to law school in the fall. I need to really figure out how this works into my life and things that I would like to do. I should probably be in film school or something that really feeds my creative energy. Whatever the case may be, I am in anticipation for greatness.

Lastly, I have had the Anthony David song "Words" on repeat for the last week. Check it out the lyrics really ring true.

Just Because...

1. As an adult, whenever I am visiting friends in another city, I always make a hotel reservation. This allows for my personal independence and space, but it also prevents my friends from having to adjust their lives too much. That said, a couple of friends came into town the other weekend, I informed them that I already had a house guest, but they insisted on crashing at my place. They let me know that it was fine if they "slept on the floor." I was not ok with this, so I insisted they make some sort of reservation elsewhere. It created a tense tone for the weekend. Yet, isn't my personal level of comfort important. This isn't undergrad spring break in Cancun where eight of us crammed into one room. Was I too harsh?

2. I don't really feel that I had any barbeque on the 4th, as I spent the entire time on the grill.

3. I planned a breakfast date for Thursday morning with the homie lover friend.

4. So two weekends ago I engaged in the New York Pride festivities. Actually, I went to parties all weekend - no parade and all of that. On Saturday, at the Atlanta invades New York party, a young man from the adult film industry approached me (he's one of my favorites) to compliment me on my look and to ask for my number. I obliged and took his as well. I have no intention of using it, though I will say that it did do something for my ego to have him approach me. Could I date a porn star?

5. My friends flaked on Martha's Vineyard for the 4th of July holiday.

6. Didn't the whole R. Kelly thing blow over rather quickly and calmly?

7. Fantasia and Lena Horne share the same birthday. For some reason, there is something really odd about that to me.

8. I feel like Ebony missed some key men in there top 25 "cool edition." Who would you put on the list?

9. I am glad to see the William sister back at it. Between clothing lines and dating Common, I forgot that they even played tennis.

10. So to get my mind off of the homie lover friend, my friends introduced me to some nice and rather interesting guys this past weekend. Perhaps I will go on a date with one of them and see what happens.

11. I went to a house party on Saturday and this great brownstone in Harlem. It always makes me feel warm inside to meet black gay couples being progressive.

Love Him?

"Love him and let him love you. Do you think anything else under heaven really matters? “This is by far one of my favorite quotes from James Baldwin. It's been the through-line of my week thus far, that along with "Stay Down" the Mary J. Blige joint. This week, starting last Friday, has proved to be so many things. It seems like me and homie lover friend get closer and closer day by day. The average on looker would have no question that the two of us are partnered. However I have these huge moments of where uncertainty creeps in. I am very intimately involved in all aspects of his life. At this point I am working on a business project with along with him. This has meant for me, meetings with investors, researching real estate and working with consultants on the project. He wants me to take an active role in all aspects and maybe leave my current position at some point. This would ideally be great. This is what you want to do with your partner, but because he is not, I am really nervous and scared. He's currently working on his PHD, I understand his stress level and would love to work full time while he focuses on school, but I feel like I have to have a boundary.

The problem is that my love for him has no bounds, yet the manifestation of it can't fully be actualized as the situation currently exists. How foolish would I feel having done all of these things together and he ends up sharing those things with someone else? I have to safeguard myself, right? The other night we got into a bit of an argument and he said that maybe we shouldn't do this. That maybe we should not be in each other's life at all. I cried (an ugly Oprah cry). He cried. We ended up back at the same place, but even more emotionally open having taken this moment of raw emotion as a conduit for love making. I walked home with the taste of him on my lips more confused that ever. I asked myself if one could really fight for something when there's really not any opposition, only their shadow. I am not doing anything wrong so why am I fighting and who am I fighting.

I am giving myself through the weekend to really access what it is I want and need. I know that it's going to hurt to walk away, but I may have to. I don't want to pretend. I want everyone to know that he's it. I hit the jackpot. That he's all mine. You can have it all.

Just Because...

1. So there is a rap group from Brooklyn, no less, called Thug Slaughter Force whose claim to fame is there disavowal to men wearing tight clothes, as it promotes homosexuality. There first track is dubbed “no tight clothes.” These brothers really got it fucked up, No Homo… lol… check them out if you dare…. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pABR7CoM5uA

2. So I attended New Fest the other weekend, New York’s LGBT Film Festival and saw “Ebony Chunky Love, Bitch Can’t Get a Date.” I thought that I would get some insight into the struggles that face black gay men as it relates to body image, but what I ended up getting was a story of a black man hurt and looking for acceptance from white gay men. I was not impressed.

3. Did you know that Soul Train was recently sold to MadVision, and that we should look for an updated version of the show late this year? Some things are better left as they are, right?

4. A friend disclosed to me that she never had an orgasm… Wow…

5. Please cop the July issue of GQ. The spread of Pharrell is great. I’ve always thought he was hot… but got damn… he gets better with age.

6. Speaking of publications… Italian Vogue is dedicating is July issue to black models… the entire magazine… It’s a most have.

7. Don Imus is at it again…

8. I was listening to Betty Wright’s, “Tonight is the Night.” She asks the audience to think back to their “very first time.” How was your “very first time?”
9. More than one-third — 36 percent — of New York City men who have sex with other men and have had five or more sex partners within the past year do not consistently use condoms. Is this surprising news?

10. So I took the interns out for lunch today…. It really made me feel grown manish…

Love, Heart Ache, Broiled Eel and Chaka Khan

So last Friday I took advantage of "Summer Fridays," the period between Memorial Day and Labor Day, where those in fashion or fashion related industries either work only half day or not at all on Friday. I love it. It may be one of the best perks. My homie lover friend had informed me earlier in the week that he wanted to take me out for a really special dinner. All I had to do was show up. I slept until noon, got a fresh cut and paired my fresh and rested face with a light weight slate grey summer suit, a casual, but crisp, white button down, chucks and a driving cap. I met him in Soho for dinner at Woo Lae Oak - an amazing Korean restaurant. He took the liberty of order for us. We started with Jang Au Gui; broiled eel in a sweet Soy Sauce. The presentation was great, as the ell was served on hot river stones which rested on a bed of sea salt. We followed that up with Korean Barbeque… we choose the salmon and the sea scallops. Each table is equipped with a smokeless grill - so we were responsible for grilling the salmon and sea scallops. They were seasoned to perfection. We added a couple of more dishes to our dinner and ended it by ordering three deserts - tropical snow, a green apple sorbet and a caramelized pear. It was one of the best dates I have had.

Let's fast forward to this Friday, where things have dramatically changed. Although we have spent everyday together since Sunday and they have been great day, emotional, but great, I have arrived at the place where I am no longer interested in being with someone that can't be with me in totality. I can't believe I wrote it… lol. As incredible as he is, I have to remove myself from what I feel to be is an unhealthy relationship. Maybe we just had bad timing. Maybe I needed him to show me what I really want from someone. Maybe you can have more than one soul mate. I'm not going to make some dramatic departure. We bought advance tickets to see films on Saturday and Sunday that are apart of New Fest, New York's LGBT Film Festival. After that I will slowly push back, maybe start dating again and throw myself into a few projects. This situation has allowed me to make some good decisions. Finally telling some of my close friends that I was gay, and finally deciding that the time is now for me to have that conversation with my parents. He is all about music and he exposed me a Chaka Khan song that plays on repeat in my ipod and it sums it all up:

You know it hurts me

When I can't be next to you

And though we're young I know

You feel the same way, too

Deep in our hearts we know

It's just a matter of time

'Cause we'll be together one day

And when we met

Out on the streets along the way

It wasn't by chance that we

Were passing by that day

As sure as there's a moon

And stars above I know

We'll be together for sure

As sure as that nose on your face

We were meant for each other's arms

Just as one and one make two

You were made for me

I was made for you (boy)

Don't try to hide that smile

I know that's on your face

And when you stare (look) at me

I'll look the other way

And we won't give away

What we know from the start

That we've got that love in our hearts

Deep in our hearts

In our hearts we've got that love

In our hearts we've got that love

In our hearts we've got that love

Oh deep down in our hearts

We've got that love

Oh we're very into lovin', yeah

Oh that love in our hearts

We've got that love in our hearts

Oh baby, we've got that love

A Mess

Okay… I don’t like to get too personal on here… but… I just need to write this out… I feel like my life has gotten exceedingly complicated as of late at no fault of my own. So I've been dating this guy since November - my homie-lover-friend. He's great. He's smart. He's funny. He has great friends. He's mature. He's a great communicator. And he's beautiful. I've met his sister and spent Mother's Day with him and his mother. She's from the South, so we connect on so many levels about things he just doesn't get. The issue is that he has a boyfriend that lives out of state. I knew this going into the situation - but I didn't give it much thought - I was dating - we would cross that bridge once we reached it. Needless to say, we have arrived at the bridge. I think that I may really be falling in love with him. That's huge for me. He thinks that I'm not emotionally vested in our "situation" which is partly true, as I am afraid to completely emotionally vulnerable with someone that's not 100% available to me. One of my friends chastises me for even being in this situation, while another feels that I should go with my raw emotion and stop having to be in control. In part, I think that because we are men in a traditional sense, it's hard for either of us to relinquish that. He thinks that I should cook and be in his face every minute. Yet, my vantage point is that my career, getting a JD, community service and my social calendar are important - and sitting around making meatloaf and mashed potatoes isn't what I need to be doing right now. Do I just submit? What should I do?

So to complicate all of this, an ex turned friend is spending a few weeks with me, as he has taken a summer position here in New York. A few weeks are actually six. I let my homie-lover friend know - I left out the part that it's an ex - and he wasn't happy about the amount of time I would have this young man in my space. The ex and I have a long past and both of our emotions run deep. We made a pact to get married at 30 if we were both single. I don't want to turn to him out of some kind of need, but I feel it may be possible. How do I avoid this from happening?

Wreck in the City

Though I am heading for a lunchtime viewing of Sex and the City today (courtesy of my company), a friend of mine surprised me with the purchase of a ticket for the 12:30 AM showing. Although I consider myself to be a fan on the series - these folks were obviously die hard who - having awaited the arrival of this moment since the show's conclusion in 2004. The thing that I enjoyed so much about the series was that the connection - full of candid talks, salty banner, love, men, shopping and of course sex - felt, well, real. What the movie provides is a failed attempt at re-creating the same magic - an end product that is overstuffed with superficiality and materialism, almost raunchy sex scenes and humor more appropriate for films in the "American Pie" genre. The movie was way too long, un-unnervingly predictable and the plethora of subplots made it feel like this was five episodes forced together in an attempt at weaving something cohesive. There was no spirit of freshness - the fact that the characters hadn't changed bothers me, as I expected broader, deeper more nuanced characters - yet I was left with simple contrite characters that could only be lovable to the most devoted. Should we expect more at 40? There was once a time in my life in which a fitted, baggy jeans and timbs were both sexy and acceptable for me or the guy that I was dating at the moment. Yet, as we get older and more mature what was once acceptable; just ain't any longer. The fact that he may still look good in that get-up at 36 doesn't mean that he should wear it. There has to be progression, right? In that same vain this was my expectation for Sex and the City, and I unfortunately, was let down - as a once brilliant TV show, was reduced to nothing more than 2 1/2 of branding for Apple, Louis Vuitton and Vitaminwater.

Just Because...

1. So my homie-lover-friend and I took his homegirl out on a date this past Saturday. She just had a really bad break-up and we wanted to do something nice for her, so I got us tickets to see a play by written by an emerging playwright I really enjoy. Our homegirl teaches theatre, so I thought this would be perfect. I rarely proclaim anything to be amazing. Yet, Tracy Scott Wilson's latest play, The Good Negro is nothing short of it. The writing, the direction and the acting are all pitch perfect. I had my hesitations - a show about the Civil Rights Movement - yet Wilson brings forth a fresh perspective - exposing the tension of the Movement (under the watchful eye of the FBI) brought about by jealousy and alleged affairs in this drama that takes (not explicitly) Dr. King and the Movement to task. Wilson's intent is not malicious. What she does is show a balanced picture - a man who is torn between his duty, obligation and ambitions and his personal needs and desires. Wilson also explores the toll on which all of these things affects wife. There are a number of other sub-themes that help to masterfully construct this fine work. What the audience is left with is broader more human side of what movement was about, as well as some perspective on the government's "interest" in the Movement. It makes you wonder about the "governmental scrutiny" that our first viable Black candidate for president must be experiencing. Please check it out if you are in the city. It runs through June 1st at the Public Theatre.

http://www.publictheater.org/component/option,com_shows/task,view/Itemid,158/id,904

2. Sex in the City opens on Friday. My company is sending us to see it on Friday during lunch. I’m the only man. I would rather go home, than see the movie with a bunch of folks I don’t even care for. How gay is this?

3. I bought a g-shock watch recently. It’s called the “baby g.” During my trip home, my mother asked if “baby g” stood for “baby girl.” I gave her a blank look and burst with laughter. She not funny.

4. Speaking of being back at home, Atlanta wasn’t everything I needed it to be, and on top of everything, I got stood up by friends I really wanted to see. You know who you are. Lol.

5. I watched the DL Chronicles this weekend. I really enjoyed it. It’s so much better than Noah’s Arc.

6. The new Kehinde Wiley Exhibit (I want to marry him) opens at the Studio Museum of Harlem in July. I can’t wait. Wiley, known for his stylized paintings of urban African-American male youths in poses borrowed from eighteenth- and nineteenth-century European figurative paintings, continues that process, this time with models in poses based on regional sources – this time Nigeria and Senegal.

Me and the Mystery Man

Now, I am not one to be shy or be easily intimidated, but for some reason the "mystery man" had me vexed. I ran into him at the opening of an art exhibition about two months ago. We exchanged glances across the room - he mouthed, "Good to see you here tonight" - I replies with a smile - "good to see you too." Never mind the fact that I didn't know who this man was. He looked familiar, but I couldn't place him. My hope was that, if we had met, that my impression had been a good one. While I feigned to be a true art connoisseur, he walked passed grabbing my hand to signal his departure. I was sorry that he had left without a formal introduction. So this past weekend, to my surprise, who did I run into, but the mystery man? He smiled and acknowledged my arrival to the party. I smiled; ran to the bar and hurriedly order a Ketel One and tonic. When I turned to head back in his direction, I noticed a good friend of mine was making small talk with him. I needed some quick info, so I sent my friend a text message. He ended the conversation and came to my aid. He informed me of who the mystery man was. I was impressed (I found out today that he is even more impressive than I had first thought). My buddy let me know he wanted to make my acquaintance at which point I winced; overcome with this nagging feeling of nervous energy that I had not felt since picking teams in grade school. I told my friend I needed to say hello to some folks first and I would talk to you-know-who once I was done. I forced myself in to extended conversations about the music, the housewarming I had just left and the inability to find a decent one bedroom apartment in Harlem for under $1500 - anything to occupy my time. Finally, having resolved some of my angst, I set out to meet Mr. Man, at which I was informed that he had hopped into a taxi only a few minutes earlier. I was half crestfallen; half relieved. Was I intimidated by the mystery man? Did I feel like he was out of my league? What does dating in your league mean? Is it better to date down? Help a brother out. I hear the mystery man will be attending a certain cultural event next week. Maybe I'll drop in?

Just Because...

1. Have you ever noticed that in Missy's "Hot Boys" she says that she wants a "top boy?" So is Missy a bottom? Nah, vers… lol

2. So Barbara Walters likes black D; huh … Barbara Walters now says she had a past affair with married U.S. Senator Edward Brooke. Appearing on "The Oprah Winfrey Show" scheduled to air today, Walters shares details of her relationship with Brooke that lasted several years in the 1970s. In 1966 Edward Brooke's decisive Senate victory made him the first black elected to the Senate in the twentieth century.
3. I know it's not politically correct… but if I'm going to do porn, and by do, I mean watch, I prefer coco dorm circa 2003.

4. On Saturday, we were encouraged to engage in the blackout - spend no money - in protest of the Sean Bell verdict. Any news on how that went?

5. Someone mentioned to me that the only thing worse than no money is new money… at which I noted that America is only 231 year old… so all money… here in America… is new money…

6. I'm kind of surprised that the Keyshia Cole reality show is going to be on DVD.

7. How do we feel about men in sandals/flip flops?

8. So what is it about Nick Cannon?

9. Why do I feel bad about the Star Jones, Al Reynolds divorce?

10. I’m going to a housewarming on Saturday. He’s not registered, and I don’t want to show up with the standard “bottle.” Any suggestions?

ESTELLE

So I went to the Estelle Concert last night. It was incredible. There’s nothing like a concert in a small intimate space. You can chill, grab a good cocktail or two and just enjoy the music. Not only can this chick blow, but she's a true performer that embodies what music should be; it emotes from your heart, spirit and soul. She has this kind of sexy around the way girl kind of style that is definitely hot. She was accompanied by John Legend (she's the first artist on his label Homeschool) for the song Come Over. Let me be the first to say that he’s just as fine in person. She reminds me of Lauryn Hill in that she's a vocalist and a rapper mixed with a little Amy Winehouse because of her kind of gritty English style. The album drops today. It's a must have for those who like good music.

No Homo

I have to give kudos to Morehouse Safe Space, a gay student group at Morehouse, for organizing activities aimed at increasing awareness of homophobia and heterosexism at Morehouse. Dubbed the "No More ‘No Homo’ Initiative," the weeklong campaign also seeks to eradicate one of the most commonly used epithets gay students encounter at the all-male college.

The initiative kicks off April 21 with the showing of "No Hetero," a documentary produced by three film students at neighboring Spelman College. The film uses the experiences of gay and lesbian students at Morehouse and Spelman to look at the broader issue of sexual orientation discrimination among African-Americans. On April 22, members of Morehouse Safe Space are scheduled to appear before the student senate and submit a resolution calling for more awareness of the plight of gay students at Morehouse. A panel discussion on homophobia at historically black colleges and universities is scheduled for April 23, while "National Day of Silence" activities are planned for April 24 and April 25. The week culminates April 26 with the James Baldwin Brunch, a coalition-building luncheon designed to link students with supportive administrators, faculty and activists

Not Boris...

Actor-model Boris Kodjoe assumed the role of Brick in the Broadway revival of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof during a six-week-long movie-related leave of absence by Terrence Howard. Howard, will be out from April 15 to May 22 and will return on May 23. The limited engagement of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof is scheduled to run through June 15. I have yet to see Cat, but I think that I will wait until Terrence Howard returns. Yes, Boris is great to look at, but I don't know if I could bear sitting through almost 3 hours of him on stage. I'm sure his addition to the cast will fill seats.

Just Because...

1. The security in my building has a problem with me. I greet them every morning upon entering the building only to get no reply…then they always give me the side eye… maybe it's the mohawk, the combination of bow tie, tux jacket, jeans and jordans that send them over the edge?

2. So I was out with a friend this week and we ran into the twin brother of someone he knew in the biblical sense. Since he's had the brother… hasn't he in theory, had the identical twin brother too?

3. So I'll be in Atlanta on May 16th… I am really excited.

4. I need a dime… that's top of the line … cute face, slim waist, with a big behind…

5. I teach a class once a week… A couple of my male students invited me for a drink after class, I obliged… after only one drink the conversation moved from their personal goals to how "E-Dubb" pullin all the hoes in the class (my female students) … OMG… I didn't know what to say… so I let the gentlemen know that "E-dubb" has professional integrity… and they should too…

6. My girlfriend from college is getting married… she wanted to know if I was jealous… "Of what," I asked… "That he got me and you didn't," she responded… "But I broke up with you.” I reminded her… did I miss something???

7. My book for the month of May is the Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao… corey is reading it too… great minds… lol… I'm almost done with Gentleman Jigger…

8. I think I have a little crush on my barista at starbucks… though… from the looks of things… the big "passion mark" as my mother terms them, on his neck this morning… he may just be taken…

9. I registered to take a photography class this summer… all I need now is a muse…

10. So I'm sponsoring a scholarship in my hometown… some of the applicants have hand-written their essays… is that ok?

Just Because...

1. I had the pleasure of attending the opening of “Flow" last week, the new exhibit at the Studio Museum of Harlem. The work is amazing - though the highlight of my evening was being mistaken for some artist currently working in Venice.

2. Do you ever look at lesbians and say to yourself, " I bet her strap on is huge," or inversely, "aww… I bet it's really small?"

3. Wasn't Menace II Society a little homoerotic?

4. I was listening to Betty Wright's "Tonight is the Night"… she asks the audience to "think back to their very first time"… and so… I thought about it … lol

5. I may be a little bit behind but has anyone been out to http://stuffeducatedblackpeoplelike.wordpress.com/
I think the fact that moving to Atlanta is number 17 is hilarious.

6. Have you been in a place where masturbation isn't enough?

7. I hate in when the person on the treadmill next to me wants to compete.

8. This chick said I was school boy sexy…???

9. So I'm going to an Estelle concert in a couple of weeks…

10. Big Boi is doing something with the Atlanta Ballet this weekend… should be interesting.

Hottentot or Not?

Anyone who knows anything about me knows that my version of Sunday bliss lies in a perfect cup of extra hot coffee, my favorite oversize hoodie and the Sunday New York Times. This past Sunday was extra blissful, as I slept until noon and indulged my taste buds with banana walnut pancakes. In rummaging through a pile of newspapers on my floor in search of this Sunday's New York Times, I ran across an article I had saved about Andre J – the colorful character that made waves by showing up on the cover of French Vogue. I re-read the article in hopes of debunking my previous thoughts. To some degree I blamed both the current issue of Vogue with Lebron James on the cover and the Kara Walker exhibit I had seen at the Whitney Museum where I viewed an installation that had an uncanny likeness to Saartjie Baartman, one of at least two Khoikhoi women that were exhibited as sideshow attractions in 19th century Europe under the name Hottentot Venus. Hottentot was the then current name for the Khoi people and Venus referred to works depicting the female form. My initial thought (about the Andre J. French Vogue cover) was exploitation – “oddities;” those operating outside established societal norms. Using history as a marker, “oddities” were often put on display for both entertainment and the promotion of superiority by those in positions of power. This type of exploitation is different from what we typically see nowadays, as African-Americans are now commodities for consumption by other African American – ala Flava of Love and “Who's Your Caddy” where the target audience is African-American. The fact that Vogue, especially French Vogue, is marketed towards a non-black audience caused me to question the intent. Was this some sort of return to a minstrel-like mindset (it never really left) – put an “oddity” on display for the enjoyment of some white folks? Rather than simply exclaiming this as exploitation, I wanted to examine what exploitation really means, and if the nature of exploitation has changed over the years. Can a person be exploited if they give their permission? Further, if the perpetrator of the exploitation is not aware that they are exploiting, is it still an offense? Have we become so consumed by the need to obtain “celebrity” that we are willing to compromise ourselves? This is by no means a critique on Andre J, but rather an examination of the process of exploitation.

Born in 1789, Baartman was a slave in Cape Town. It was here that she was “discovered” by British doctor William Dunlop, who persuaded her to travel with him to England. We'll never know what she had in mind as she boarded the ship - on her own free will, but it was clear what Dunlop had in mind; to display her as a “freak,” a “scientific curiosity” and make money from these shows – some of which he promised Baartman. Baartman had an unusually large buttocks and genitals, and in the early 1800's Europeans were arrogantly obsessed with their superiority, and with proving to others, particularly blacks, were inferior and oversexed. Baatman's physical characteristics, not uncommon for Khoisan woman, were “evidence” of this prejudice, and she was treated like a freak exhibited in London. She spent four years in London, and then moved to Paris where she continued her degrading round of shows and exhibitions. We will never know if Baartman was paid for her “services.” At any expense it couldn't have been enough. Once the Parisians got tired of the Baartman show, she was forced to turn to prostitution. She didn't last the ravages of a foreign culture and climate or the further abuse of her body. She died in 1815 at the age of 25.

Insert Andre J.

Andre J. was born in 1979 as Andre Johnson in the Academy Spires housing projects in Newark New Jersey. He was “discovered” in the summer of 2007 by Joe McKenna a celebrated stylist. Prior to being discovered by McKenna, Andre J. had appeared three times on the Jay Leno in cameo segments devoted to “human curiosities.” He found himself in Los Angeles for what he deemed as “sex and fame.” Andre J. doesn't consider his style to be drag nor does he consider himself to be “trans-” anything. He is “just expressing [himself] not hurting anyone and taking [himself] to a place where [he] wants to be, a place where the world is beautiful.” Maybe it's a stretch, but I definitely see similarities between Saartjie Baartman and Andre J. The question then becomes whether this is exploitation or not? Baartman and Andre J. both operated out of there own free will. Baartman accepting the invitation of Dunlop and Andre J. accepting the invitation from McKenna. Eleanor Roosevelt once said that, and I am paraphrasing, “Nobody can oppress you without your permission.” So were they merely willing participates seeking out some sort of means to an end, with the price of exploitation, in their eyes, not being too high for them to take part in it? If this is in fact the case, can we blame them? What about young women that strip to pay their way through college? Is this not on par? Better still, you have two individuals that were/are merely being themselves and existing as they see fit. So, in their existing, considered a discovery by some, it becomes okay the allow others to take interest in what Baartman and Andre J. deem as “regular” and what others view as unique. Let's use break dancing as an example. When kids were breaking in the Bronx during the late 70's and early 80's they were doing it as an artistic expression of themselves. The intent was not for this to become a phenomenon that would eventually reach Japan. They were existing – there was no ulterior motive. I'm not sure if I can say that this is the case with Baartman and Andre J. It seems that in some way they wanted to capitalize on their “uniqueness.” So I then have to question the role of the magazine publisher. Did French Vogue see this as a political statement - a magazine completely open, inviting their reading audience to share in their openness to someone who is different – a black bearded man in a dress? Perhaps the message lies in the fact that both gender and sexuality are lucid, and we need to be a re-examine what these terms mean? Or could simple exploitation be the culprit, and that both parties played an equal part? I support a person's right not to be forced to identify themselves as this, that or the other, yet I can't help but to think of how much more revolutionary his appearance on the cover of French Vogue would be, had that been the case. I think that then, and perhaps, only then would I consider this to be more than an attempt to expand one's career, at perhaps, any cost. What do you think?

Happy Birthday Mom!!!

Today's my mom's birthday. I always get stressed about finding the perfect gift to give her. This year was no different. I spent all day Sunday shopping for her. What was different for me this year, however, was the fact that for the first time, I gave serious consideration to who my mother really is - seeing her beyond a mother, but as a person, a woman with her own unique complexities. I think that we are all guilty of forgetting about the human sides of our parents. We tend to put them in a box of mother, wife, and nurturer and forget that they are so much more than that. When I recall my childhood there are things that now standout to me, which give me a perspective on my mother the person. She would play Terrance Trent Darby and Loose Ends and Annie Lenox - eclectic taste in a small town in South Georgia. She road her bike on the weekends, indulged in long bathes and has always had a standing hair appointment every Friday morning. She's always been spiritual, never religious. Saturdays were always our day. We would go out for lunch and shop or go to the park or visit my grandparents. She never leaves the house without sunglasses (her favorite ones are the Chloe ones I got her a few years ago), a compact and an ensemble that says "I have somewhere to be." She smokes a cigarette a day - always after dinner. These are all telling signs into her personality that I had never really considered. I addition to her being an amazingly caring person, I can move forward with greater appreciation for the unique person she is in her totality. Love you Mommy!

We are here to speak your names because of the way you made for us. Because of the prayers you prayed for us. We are the ones you conjured up, hoping we would have strength enough, and discipline enough, and talent enough, and nerve enough to step into the light when it turned in our direction, and just smile awhile. We are the ones you hoped would make you proud because all of our hard work makes all of yours part of something better, truer, deeper. Something that lights the way ahead like a lamp unto our feet, as steady as the unforgettable beat of our collective heart. -Pearl Cleage

Just Because...

1. My “homey-lover-friend” coaxed me into watching a Tyler Perry play last night – Diary of a Mad Black Woman. That was a first and a last for me. I thought that the movies were bad – but damn, the movies are infinitely better than the plays. I was a little disturbed when he asked her to bark like a dog. Is Tyler Perry secretly a misogynist?

2. I started reading Gentleman Jigger by Bruce Nugent the other day. I think that it is a must read. It is discussed in the introduction that he liked “rough trade.” Can you imagine what that was like during the 1920’s and 1930’s? I guess the more things change, the more they stay the same.

3. Perhaps I am too involved in the election, but I am too tired of Hillary Clinton wearing this canary yellow suit with black accents. When you wear a color like canary yellow it should be a piece that you don’t wear too often. It stands out and people remember it. Can we get Max Mara, Vivienne Westwood or Chanel to send her a few suits? Hell, can someone take her to Ann Taylor Loft at Atlantic Station? Gary?

4. It is official. I am an elitist, and I am ok with it.

5. I need a trip to Atlanta – brunch at Murphy’s or Thumb’s Up. Dinner at Watershed or Bacchanalia. A facial and massage at Key Lime Pie. A little shopping. A little tea at Urban Tea Party. Catching up with old friends. O, how I miss Atlanta sometimes.

A JAMES BALDWIN TRIBUTE

My friends know that I affectionately refer to James Baldwin as my Uncle Jimmy, as I have always been able to find solace, comfort, truth and honesty in his words. I had the chance to attend a lecture last evening - a celebration of sorts for Uncle Jimmy. I left feeling renewed in spirit, capable of slaying any dragons that I may meet on my journey. His resilience to live life to the fullest should be a testament to us all. Far too often we give excuse as to why we are not able to accomplish our dreams - Uncle Jimmy shows us that even under the most challenging circumstances it is possible. Amiri Baraka summed up James Baldwin in 1987 by saying the following:

As man, he was Our friend, Our older or younger brother, we listened to him like we would somebody in our family - whatever you might think of what he might say. We could hear it. He was close, as man, as human relative, we could make it some cold seasons merely warmed by his handshake, smile or eyes. Warmed by his voice, jocular yet instantly cutting. Kind yet perfectly clear. We could make it sometimes, just remembering his arm waved in confirmation or indignation, the rapid-fire speech, pushing out at the world like urgent messages for those who would be real.

This man traveled the earth like its history and its biographer. He reported, criticized, made beautiful, analyzed, cajoled, lyricized, attacked, sang, made us think, made us better, made us consciously human or perhaps more acidly pre-human.
He was spirit because he was living.

In honor and reverence to James Baldwin I challenge you to live!

Just Because...

1. Do people really think it's ok to not cover their mouths when coughing simply because they are not inside?
2. For some reason I think that Mario is packing.
3. I don't like the fact the Angela Bassett is in that Tyler Perry movie.
4. Recently, T.I.'s You Don't Know Me has been running throught my mind. Do I have some issues?
5. I'm not sure how I feel about India Arie starring in the revivial of For Colored Girls…which hits Broadway this summer.
6. Why don't black gays buy black gay publications the way that white gays buy white gay publications.
7. 1 and 4 teenage girls has an STD. Wow!
8. Cancun or Miami?
9. I think I'm going to take in to the DR.
10. Are red lace-ups too much?

What I'll Be Wearing To The Office This Spring

The Election and Limited 23rd Edition Jordans

With another set of caucuses coming around on tomorrow, and the race for the Democratic nomination being tighter than ever, I have to say that I am definitely at a place of introspection. The fact that so many of African Americans have turned out to be active participants in this process invigorates me, while at the same time I feel encumbered with angst as so many of us still believe that our voices, despite the outcome of the impending election, will remain unheard. There’s apart of me that doesn’t blame them, as the downpour created by the trickle down effect seems to become only a light mist once it finally makes its way to the working poor. As a working professional, the opportunity afforded to me by the circumstances of my education, allows my optimism to glean a little brighter. As I look back to Super Tuesday, an event that seems apart of the distant past, I am reminded of the flood of calls and emails and text messages I sent out reminding my family and friends back in Georgia to cast their vote. In Atlanta, the local news reported that a large group, mostly African American males, waited from 1:00 a.m. to 8:00 a.m. in anticipation to purchase Limited 23rd Edition Jordan’s. As my friend waited in line to vote that morning, he looked for those faces, only find that he was only one of four African Americans that had turned out to the polls that early Tuesday morning. The other faces were those of parents and grandparents who were excited by the opportunity to cast their votes. There is a strange dichotomy that seems to occur in our community more than any other, where there is not a transfer of values from one generation to the next - the current belief that where there is no spotlight or camera, nothing is happening. I asked my friend why he made the choice to stand in line that morning. He told me that it was simply a fundamental belief in and genuine appreciation for the individuals who stood in line as the departed slave ships after a horrible middle passage, the individuals who stood in line as they saw their children used as currency to purchase equipment and land, the individuals who stood in line honorably to fight for a country that did not recognize them as citizens, the individuals who stood in line to enter institutions of higher learning while guarded by the US National Guard and mocked by the governor and the woman who stood in line to wave goodbye to her only son as she entrusted the only all male liberal arts college in the country to give her son the education she had not been afforded. This election isn’t so much about who you vote for, but rather to honor and pass on a legacy. Sadly, I have either been afforded more opportunity than the average black man my age, or the average black man my age has been disillusioned and lulled into such extreme apathy by what Limited 23rd Edition Jordan’s represent, that he is willing to step on the backs of all the men and women who died in order for him to wait in the line of their choice.

All Black Cast of "Cat" Finally Makes it to Broadway

I have been anticpating this for years. But it's finally going to happen - the staging of "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" with an all Black cast. It's an all star line up. Though I have to admit, I was looking for to direction from Kenny Leon and Anthony Mackie in the role of Brick. Either way, I will be there when the curtain opens.