“Good blog, how do I become a follower?” Said a friend by email concerning my first blog "Why Does It Hurt (So Bad)". It’s been 3 days and I have not come up with a new blog idea. Shame on you Writing Machine, shame. Watching the news to spark some idea of what to write about, calling friends to see what’s on their minds because obviously there’s nothing on my mind.
It’s ironic how we who have the gift always have something to say until it’s time to write it down. I personally work better under a deadline: too many years in Corporate America I suppose, a method that does not work well for me there either. Therefore, I sit here writing for the sake of writing hoping that the internal conversation will spark a subject. Wait for it…wait for it…
Still nothing, a frustrating place to be yet I am determined to be the next…darn, I can’t even think of a name right now. Okay, my mother always had great things to say, what would she say right now. Probably a long string of explicative words I cannot share in this venue, that’s for sure. She is the one who got me into this mess by telling me when I get frustrated to write it down rather than, well, throw something or cry or whatever the “tween” hormones demanded that day.
Wait for it...still nothing. Speaking of Corporate America, how about a poem:
Moody Tune
In a dreamy, dreary slumber,
I know that God has my number.
Looking toward that day of glory,
Missing today’s joyous story.
Flowing tears upon my pillow,
Head held low, as is the willow.
Knowing this night's not the one.
Day will break another’s come.
Blurry gloom looms round my forehead,
Slurry sloom room catches my head,
Slipping on today’s attire,
Removing hat and coat from wire.
Cheerful, happy all admire,
Plastic efforts I require.
Shining sun upon my brower,
Every step takes up an hour.
To the neighbor’s “mornin’” I scour.
What’s so good about my plight?
Running late so I take flight.
Morning Traffic, awful sight,
Hey!…passing lane is on the right
Building leaning over me.
Threatening, wont let me be.
Spinning doors, exit or enter,
Same Spring, Summer, Autumn, winter…
Never changing anything,
So in winter time I sing.
Silly little ridiculous thing,
And just like that my pep’s a zing!
So here I sit, still waiting for absolution. Maybe the next blog will be better. Thanks for reading.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Why does it hurt (so bad)?
"I just can't get over it, Michael Jackson died last week", a coworker overheard me say. To which she huffed, “Farrah Fawcett died! I can't see why anyone would be upset by the death of a child molester". I stammered a heart felt, “I wouldn’t make light of Farrah Fawcett’s death either”. She made a quick exit slamming the door behind her.
I felt awful for making her feel badly. I wanted to apologize but didn't want to hurt her further so settled for the usual office small talk. I continued to carry this bad feeling with me and it took days before I realized why she was so upset. She only knew the Michael Jackson on TV, the medium of our flawed, blessed country.
I yearned to introduce her to the Michael Jackson who's known around the world as an innocent, giving, hero. I wanted to tell her to get a global perspective, so she'd better understand why we mourn a (so called) child molester. And likely, she'd learn why we never saw him as such.
I wanted to explain to her and anyone else who doesn't understand that you cannot look at his portrayed flaws alone and that some accusations and acquaintances are not what they seem but that's life and she probably wouldn't have heard or understood what I was saying. After all, she barged into a conversation between two people to splash her understanding of the truth in our faces without so much as thinking about the hurt she'd cause. She didn't feel awful like I felt and she definitely didn't tiptoe around my feelings on the subject so how could I expect her to understand?
I have much compassion however, for anyone who would defend a child; I’m a child advocate myself (please give to CASA). I just don’t believe that’s what we’re dealing with here. Okay, I cheated there, I’d planned to make my plea without professing my beliefs about that subject. It is a difficult task to talk about “The Gloved One” without talking about his legal woes. However, that is not who he is to me, he’s a phenomenon. I mean it’s like there was a lightning strike and this little black, doe eyed cherub with an *"Afro-Halo" jumped out and started singing, “YOU WENT TO SCHOOL TO LEARN GIRL…”
To the African-American community, he was, well, strange but at the same time no one can deny his heart, his love or his compassion. I’m sure every city in this country has one or more sick kids that he visited personally. He spent his fortune to build a safe haven for sick kids in Neverland Ranch and we couldn’t get over the name or thinking there’s something sick about this. Well I do believe in global warming, that sickness was the creation of the climate. Yet, while society couldn’t comprehend the product of it’s own flaws, it chose to believe that the sickness had to be the worst possible thing imaginable.
If my coworker or any one with the same opinion would listen I'd say, "our flawed, blessed society tried to destroy Michael Jackson because of his popularity and the color of his skin and succeeded yet only to destroy the man not his heart. He wanted love and unity but rather than allow that beauty to come in the form of an ”Afro Halo”, this society would rather destroy the very hope of love. Don't you see that God is love and He gave us a gift? This gift put Michael at war and I suspect this explains the clothing. This war of good and evil takes too many too soon. I charge you to look past "Breaking News" crawling across the bottom of your screen, beyond the talking head behind the Dow Jones and S&P tickers, seeing through even this blog and test the history of the man."
"While the plan was for destruction, in his death, Michael Jackson has become a martyr. A martyr for Love and Peace and Equality, for everyone around the world including those who's plan was destruction. What he leaves behind is eternal knowledge and even in infamy, he will remain in our hearts a King now residing with the King of Kings."
May prayers go out to the Jackson family for their great loss. It’s hard to lose any family member but so much more difficult when they’re such a huge personality. I couldn’t imaging how they feel seeing him or hearing about him everywhere they go.
So, why does it hurt (so bad)? It's difficult for me because all my life, everything that happens reminds me of a song and it's usually sung by Michael Jackson. My favorite song of all time is “Never Can Say Good-bye” but “Working Day and Night” runs a close second. “Off the Wall” is my favorite Michael Jackson album but “Thriller” was the first tape cassette I ever owned and the first tape cassette I ever put into my first walk-man. My first performance on stage in grade school was a dance with my two best girlfriends to "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'". I remember watching him launch the moonwalk on Motown 25 and my mother and I jumping out of our seats when he glided across the stage. We also watched the soul train awards, the one when he was in a wheelchair. When my mother died, my boyfriend at that time gave me the single “You Are Not Alone” (and a baseball cap). I sing “Bad” in my head when I get angry at my boss (seriously - in my head I'm TOTALLY BAD)... I could go on but I don't want to plant these habits of mine in your head too. Oh, just one more…remember the Anti-Gravity Lean in the “Smooth Criminal” video? (SWEET), that was a move my father used to attract my mother when they met. Michael Jackson has a patent on that move (http://v3.espacenet.com/publicationDetails/biblio?CC=US&NR=5255452&KC=&FT=E)!
I look forward to hearing the songs in the vault and more memories from Michael Jackson: “Never Can Say Goodbye” old friend.
*The term “(Chocolate Cherubic faced) Afro-Halo” is not my own but presented by Michael Eric Dyson on This Week with George Stephanopolis (6/28/09): http://abcnews.go.com/video/playerIndex?id=7949639 Beautiful Mr. Dyson!
I felt awful for making her feel badly. I wanted to apologize but didn't want to hurt her further so settled for the usual office small talk. I continued to carry this bad feeling with me and it took days before I realized why she was so upset. She only knew the Michael Jackson on TV, the medium of our flawed, blessed country.
I yearned to introduce her to the Michael Jackson who's known around the world as an innocent, giving, hero. I wanted to tell her to get a global perspective, so she'd better understand why we mourn a (so called) child molester. And likely, she'd learn why we never saw him as such.
I wanted to explain to her and anyone else who doesn't understand that you cannot look at his portrayed flaws alone and that some accusations and acquaintances are not what they seem but that's life and she probably wouldn't have heard or understood what I was saying. After all, she barged into a conversation between two people to splash her understanding of the truth in our faces without so much as thinking about the hurt she'd cause. She didn't feel awful like I felt and she definitely didn't tiptoe around my feelings on the subject so how could I expect her to understand?
I have much compassion however, for anyone who would defend a child; I’m a child advocate myself (please give to CASA). I just don’t believe that’s what we’re dealing with here. Okay, I cheated there, I’d planned to make my plea without professing my beliefs about that subject. It is a difficult task to talk about “The Gloved One” without talking about his legal woes. However, that is not who he is to me, he’s a phenomenon. I mean it’s like there was a lightning strike and this little black, doe eyed cherub with an *"Afro-Halo" jumped out and started singing, “YOU WENT TO SCHOOL TO LEARN GIRL…”
To the African-American community, he was, well, strange but at the same time no one can deny his heart, his love or his compassion. I’m sure every city in this country has one or more sick kids that he visited personally. He spent his fortune to build a safe haven for sick kids in Neverland Ranch and we couldn’t get over the name or thinking there’s something sick about this. Well I do believe in global warming, that sickness was the creation of the climate. Yet, while society couldn’t comprehend the product of it’s own flaws, it chose to believe that the sickness had to be the worst possible thing imaginable.
If my coworker or any one with the same opinion would listen I'd say, "our flawed, blessed society tried to destroy Michael Jackson because of his popularity and the color of his skin and succeeded yet only to destroy the man not his heart. He wanted love and unity but rather than allow that beauty to come in the form of an ”Afro Halo”, this society would rather destroy the very hope of love. Don't you see that God is love and He gave us a gift? This gift put Michael at war and I suspect this explains the clothing. This war of good and evil takes too many too soon. I charge you to look past "Breaking News" crawling across the bottom of your screen, beyond the talking head behind the Dow Jones and S&P tickers, seeing through even this blog and test the history of the man."
"While the plan was for destruction, in his death, Michael Jackson has become a martyr. A martyr for Love and Peace and Equality, for everyone around the world including those who's plan was destruction. What he leaves behind is eternal knowledge and even in infamy, he will remain in our hearts a King now residing with the King of Kings."
May prayers go out to the Jackson family for their great loss. It’s hard to lose any family member but so much more difficult when they’re such a huge personality. I couldn’t imaging how they feel seeing him or hearing about him everywhere they go.
So, why does it hurt (so bad)? It's difficult for me because all my life, everything that happens reminds me of a song and it's usually sung by Michael Jackson. My favorite song of all time is “Never Can Say Good-bye” but “Working Day and Night” runs a close second. “Off the Wall” is my favorite Michael Jackson album but “Thriller” was the first tape cassette I ever owned and the first tape cassette I ever put into my first walk-man. My first performance on stage in grade school was a dance with my two best girlfriends to "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'". I remember watching him launch the moonwalk on Motown 25 and my mother and I jumping out of our seats when he glided across the stage. We also watched the soul train awards, the one when he was in a wheelchair. When my mother died, my boyfriend at that time gave me the single “You Are Not Alone” (and a baseball cap). I sing “Bad” in my head when I get angry at my boss (seriously - in my head I'm TOTALLY BAD)... I could go on but I don't want to plant these habits of mine in your head too. Oh, just one more…remember the Anti-Gravity Lean in the “Smooth Criminal” video? (SWEET), that was a move my father used to attract my mother when they met. Michael Jackson has a patent on that move (http://v3.espacenet.com/publicationDetails/biblio?CC=US&NR=5255452&KC=&FT=E)!
I look forward to hearing the songs in the vault and more memories from Michael Jackson: “Never Can Say Goodbye” old friend.
*The term “(Chocolate Cherubic faced) Afro-Halo” is not my own but presented by Michael Eric Dyson on This Week with George Stephanopolis (6/28/09): http://abcnews.go.com/video/playerIndex?id=7949639 Beautiful Mr. Dyson!
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