THURSDAY THIRTEEN #8 . . . 13 NOTABLE QUOTES BY POLITICIANS . . . THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE UGLY . . .

1) "Brownie, you're doing a heck of a job." (George W. Bush)

2) "I did not have sex with that woman." (William J. Clinton)

3) "I am not a crook." (Richard M. Nixon)

4) "Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country." (John F. Kennedy)

5) "Outside of the killings, Washington has one of the lowest crime rates in the country." (Marion Berry)

6) "My belief is, we will in fact, be greeted as liberators." (Dick Cheney)

7) "It has been my experience that folks who have no vices have very few virtues." (Abraham Lincoln)

8) "Yee-aargh!" (Howard Dean)

9) "The only thing we have to fear, is fear itself." (Franklin D. Roosevelt)

10) "I've looked on many women with lust. I've committed adultery in my heart many times." (Jimmy Carter)

11) "There's not a punk bone in my body." (Memphis Mayor Willie Herenton)

12) "They misunderestimated me." (George Bush)

13) "The greatest lesson in life is to know that even fools are right sometimes." (Winston Churchill)

Do you have a favorite quote by a politician? Do tell--good, bad or ugly--even if it's not one on my list.

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here! The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted! View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

MORE SOUTHERN EBONICS . . . WHAT Y'ALL TALKING 'BOUT?

The following are my definitions of the words and phrases I mentioned in a previous post. So when my novel After The Dance hits the shelves in April of 2008, don't forget you already have a reference guide here at the Old School Mix (smile).

1) bourgie: a less than flattering way of describing the middle-class; derives from the word "bourgeois."

2) chillren / chilluns: children

3) Christmas gift: a friendly Christmas greeting, like "Merry Christmas." The hubby swore only the old folks in my family used this particular expression until I showed him this reference in the Dictionary of American Regional English.

4) deef: deaf

5) haint: a ghost

6) hainty / haintey: stuck-up; haughty; uppitty

7) hey: hi; hello; how are you?

8) holped: helped (a couple of weeks ago, the hubby came home all excited about an NPR program he'd heard in which the word "holped" was actually discussed **LOL**)

9) knee baby: the next to the last child

10) main / mane: how many Black males in Memphis commonly pronounce the word "man"; this was one of the few things Brewer got right in the movie "Hustle & Flow."

11) mama 'nem: mama and them; one's relatives

12) mannish: a boy who isn't yet an adult, but who acts like one

13) roguish: bad; mischievous

14) sadiddy / saditty: stuck-up; self-righteous; arrogant

15) scound-bugga: a soundrel

16) sho' nuff: sure enough; also this is quite frequently used as a question or a version of the word "really" (Sho'nuff, girl?)

17) slobbed: slobbered

18) Sunday week: To be honest, I still don't know what this means (LOL). It refers to either this coming Sunday or the next.

19) trifling: shiftless; lazy; shady; no good

20) you (s) a tale/tail: you're a liar; you're lying

I appreciate all those who commented on the previous post. You all aren't as bourgie and sadiddy as I thought you were (smile). Seriously, thanks for sharing. I even learned a couple of new words and as we all know knowledge is truly power.

IN CELEBRATION OF MY . . . 100TH POST . . .

From Lori's Pic Collection

Yes, in honor of my 100th post I changed my profile photo. Don't get too attached because I kind of like the old black and white baby pic and I just may go back and repost it at some point (smile).

The color photo is only a couple of years old. The twists in my hair are a little thicker and longer, but basically I think I look the same. My son snapped the pic and I'd say he did a fairly decent job of capturing the essence of ole Moms (smile).

One of my favorite things about the photo is the framed artwork in the background. The signed and numbered print is a piece entitled "Up All Night" and it is one of several I own by the Memphis-connected artists/brothers commonly known as "Twin."

I love how Terry & Jerry Lynn, who really are twins, capture the music, the vibrancy and the funky soulfulness of the Bluff-City and the Mid-South community. But what truly fascinates me about the twins is their ability to work on a piece simulateneously, (quite often standing side by side) as if they were of one mind. Cool stuff, don't you think?

THURSDAY THIRTEEN #7 . . . 13 TRICK OR TREAT DON'T (S) . . .

I'm early, I know. Halloween is another full week away. But I felt a need to air these particular feelings/grievances ahead of time. And now that I have, I feel so much better (smile).

1) DON'T send your kid out to knock on doors until you've first taught him/her proper Halloween etiquette. "Give me some candy!" and "Is that all you've got?" are not acceptable substitutes for "Trick or treat! and "Thank you."

2) If you're 13 years old or older and you're thinking about knocking on my door and asking for candy . . . DON'T . . . unless you're looking to be embarrassed or have the police called on your behind.

3) If you're thinking about letting little Ashley dress up like Peaches the stripper or Kitty the call girl, and calling it a costume . . . DON'T! That mess is SO NOT cute.

4) If you forget to buy candy, DON'T try to substitute those stale mints and those dried up sticks of gum that have been sitting in the bottom of your purse or in that dusty bowl in the living room forever. That's just nasty . . . and trifling.

5) If you're one of those anti-sugar freaks, DON'T pass out toothbrushes and dental floss--sheesh, just turn out the lights and keep your durn door shut.

6) DON'T send your child up to my house clutching one of those big, green, 30-gallon sized trash bags, unless he/she is pretending to be a sanitation worker. It's Halloween folks, not garbage pick-up day.

7) If you're sitting in the house in your drawers, getting your drank on, when the door bell rings, do us all a favor and just DON'T answer it.

8) DON'T pass out candy you had left over from Valentine's Day or worse yet, last Halloween.

9) If you notice that my porch light and all of my house lights are OUT or I've got a big a$$ neon sign on my door that says, "NO CANDY HERE!" DON'T bother to knock or ring my freaking doorbell.

10) If you see me out trick or treating with my kid, DON'T jump out the bushes and holler "Boo!" unless you're looking to get clubbed, maced or possibly even shanked. Mama DON'T play that.

11) If your religious beliefs prevent you from participating in Halloween, DON'T spoil it for the folks/heathens who do by passing out prayer cards, verses from Revelations or communion wafers.

12) If there's a thunderstorm or a blizzard or the weather man says there's a tornado, hurricane or a tsunami in the immediate vicinity, please DON'T show up at my door trying to trick or treat.

13) DON'T send your child out door-to-door on Halloween without a costume or at least some make-up. That's not trick or treating folks, that's just plain ole begging.

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here! The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted! View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

SOUTHERN EBONICS 101 . . . OUR COLORFUL LANGUAGE . . .

In my previous post, my good friend and Memphis "Go-To-Guy" (MR) expressed a bit of amusement at my use of the term "mama 'nem." Likewise, in another post, my use of the phrase "ripping and running" caught the attention of my Detroit-based internet pal, Malcolm (of Malcolm's Pop Culture Dish). I'd dare say, by now most regular readers of the OLD SCHOOL MIX have noticed my indulgence and delight in the "colorfulness" of the Southern Black vernacular. While I am quite capable of expressing myself in the "King's English," whenever I can get away with it, I generally opt to go another route.

There have been occasions in the past when my word choices have proved slightly problematic, particularly for those readers (and listeners) unfamiliar with my Memphis brand of Southern Ebonics. So I thought it might be fun, if not somewhat educational, to post a list of words and phrases I've heard used by African Americans who hail from Memphis and/or the Mid-South tri-state area (specifically SW Tennessee, NW Mississippi & NE Arkansas).

Oh, I bet some of y'all thought all Black Southerners chewed up and spat out the language in much the same way, huh? Yeah, well, while some things carry over, there are quite a few regional differences. For instance, the folks from East Tennessee have more of a noticeable "twang" in their "thang" than those who hail from West Tennessee. On the other hand, a lot of Memphis folks are known for what my friend MW, a communications instructor, describes as a "mumble."

Anyway, let's get to the list. How many of the following words and/or phrases do you know? How many do you use? I'll give my own definitions and responses in a future post.

1) bourgie

2) chillren / chilluns

3) Christmas gift

4) deef

5) haint

6) hainty

7) hey

8) holped

9) knee baby

10) main / mane

11) Mama 'nem

12) mannish

13) rougish

14) sadiddy / saditty

15) scound-bugga

16) sho' nuff

17) slobbed

18) Sunday week

19) trifling

20) you (s) a tale / tail

TWENTY SIGNS . . . THAT A WRITING GROUP / WORKSHOP ISN'T FOR ME . . .

The October 2007 issue of O Magazine contains a nice article about a writing group called "The Finish Party." The eight member San Francisco Bay area group meets once a month, even though several of the members have to commute from LA in order to participate.

I came away from the article both a bit envious and with a renewed sense of hope about such endeavors. Over the years, dating as far back as my freshman year in college, I've been aligned with several different writing groups. My own experience with such groups has ranged from truly horrific to decidely mixed at best.

Sometimes the primary issue was simply a matter of conflicting interests and/or objectives. But more often than not, my own lack of patience with what I perceived as too much unadulterated bull crap came into play.

No doubt, some of the items on the following list (Twenty Signs That A Writing Group / Workshop Isn't For Me) are bound to rub some folks the wrong way. My reponse to that is . . . "Oh well." As I've mentioned before in the Old School Mix, what to me may reek like ten day old boiled cabbage, may to some one else have all of the savory appeal of birthday cake with ice-cream. It's just an opinion folks and one of the best things about living in the US of A is that we're each entitled to our own.

Anyway, this list is in no particular order, but the existence of more than one or two of these items in a group and on a regularly occurring basis will generally lead to the swift end of my participation.

1) The group is over-run by folks writing ghetto / gangsta / street / pimp /'I don't wanna be a freak but I can't help myself'/ type of lit. (Sorry, that's just not my kinda crowd.)

2) Lots of praise is given, but no real critique or discussion ever takes place. (Seriously, if all you want to hear is how great your work is, your best bet is to keep showing it to your Mama 'Nem.)

3) The group acts like it doesn't know how to function in the absence of its leader. (You know, where there is a set "game plan" this typically doesn't happen.)

4) Bad information is routinely passed of as fact and/or "The Truth, The Way and The Light." (Dag people, just 'cause the leader of the group or the dude with 20 self-published books under his belt or the wanna-be-editor who's out to take the rest of your money said "it," doesn't make "it" Gospel. Learn to double check stuff and solicit other opinions. Sheesh, when all else fails "Google."

5) The first thirty minutes to an hour is spent waiting on late arrivals. (Why? Am I the only one who thinks life is too short and my time too valuable to waste on folks who've obviously decided they have better things to do?)

6) No one knows when or where the next meeting will take place. (Ah, yeah, sounds like a plan to me.)

7) The consumption of food, liquor and/or weed appears to take higher priority than any actual writing, critiquing or discussion. (Gotta love those priorities, don't cha?)

8) Group members appear more interested in attending and scheduling events and selling their work than working on craft. (This is one of my major pet peeves. Sorry, while I can certainly see the benfits of such for some, every now and then, I'm simply not interested in doing marketing, making money or bringing attention to myself under the guise of providing a service to the community.)

9) Group members are strongly encouraged, instructed and/or required to dress alike. (Huh? Say what? Sorry, as one who treasures her individuality, just the thought repulses me. One reason I never wanted to join the Girl Scouts is because I hated those doofus-looking--oops--I meant, those cookie-cutter outfits.)

10) The group is over-run with groupies, star-gazers and brown-nosers. (In general, these types get on my nerves anyway. But in a group setting their presence is particularly distracting and annoying.)

11) There is no real accounting of the monies being collected. (Yeah, this always makes me want to hum a few bars of Prince's "Thieves In The Temple.")

12) A lot of time is devoted to writing exercises. (Really, if I wanted to do exercises, I'd sign up for a class, preferably one where I'd get a grade for my efforts. Sorry, but for me this typically feels like a huge waste of a group's time.)

13) The group has an on-line presence (or website), but very few people know how to access it or it is extremely difficult to do so. (To me, this is a sign that the parties involved don't really care).

14) The group leader is consistently late, missing in action or unprepared. (Is it just me, or does the lust for power and incompetence frequently appear to march hand-in-hand?)

15) Non-writing participants routinely critique the work of writing participants. (I'm saying, why are non-writing participants even in the group?)

16) Newcomers are never given any specific written information about the group--no rules or by-laws, no agenda, no member contact information, no meeting schedule. (I'm cool with a casual, laid-back style, but to me this is the mark of a group who isn't really serious.)

17) The poets in the group out-number those writing fiction. (Okay, I like poets. Some of my best friends are poets. But I don't really know a lot about writing poetry. Likewise, most poets don't really know a lot about writing fiction. Come on folks, lets keep it honest and real. Aren't we supposed to be helping one another?)

18) The leader dictates, delegates and castigates those who refuse to adhere to his/her personal program and/or agenda. (This may work with weak-minded, easily impressed folks who are open to drinking the Kool-Aid, but I'm grown and I'm neither easily enamored nor readily led.)

19) Members full of excuses and reasons why they NEVER have any work to submit to the group for critique. (Keep it real, y'all. Writing isn't a spectator's sport. Either you're committed and ready to do the damn thing or you're not.)

20) The group is primarily made up of self-published authors. (Nothing personal. I've just noticed that the goal of a lot of self-pub folks appears to be perfecting what they obviously view as little more than a hustle . . . rather than learning what it takes to improve their writing and story-telling skills.)

Again, to be clear, just because the things I've listed don't work for me, that doesn't necessarily make them bad. Feel free to share some of your own thoughts . . . even if they don't exactly jibe with mine.

MY DREAM CONCERT . . . WHAT ABOUT YOURS?

The following is a version of a concept I stumbled upon the other night while browsing Community Live Journal's "Blackfolks" blog. For the purposes of the "Old School Mix," I added a couple of my own unique spins to the idea.

The Task: Select three musical artists (acts or groups) who you'd like to see perform in your very own "dream concert" and chose a venue for the performance.

The Limitations: The concert can only last 2 hours and you are only allowed to choose performers who are no longer with us . . . yeah, that's right, they have be to dead.

MY DREAM CONCERT

The ARTISTS I'd choose for my dream concert: Phyllis Hyman, Luther Vandross and Marvin Gaye.

The PLACE would be in Memphis, Tennessee at either the Orpheum Theatre or the Mud Island Amphitheatre.

The SET-UP: I'd have Phyllis open up the concert with a thirty minute jazz- flavored set. Luther would follow her with thirty minutes of his R &B hits. Of course, Marvin would come on stage and turn it out with thirty minutes of his hits from the 60s, 70s and 80s.

But the highlight of the show would be the last thirty minutes when I'd have all three grace the stage simultaneously. Talk about a blend of voices. The duets alone would be out of this world! Think about it . . . Phyllis & Luther . . . Phyllis & Marvin . . . Luther & Marvin. And all three together? Something tells me I'd feel like I'd died and gone to heaven (smile).

So given the task and the limitations, WHO would perform at YOUR "DREAM CONCERT"? WHERE would it take place? Who would go on FIRST? SECOND? THIRD?

THURSDAY THIRTEEN #6 . . . 13 OF LIFE'S MOST SHOCKING MOMENTS . . .

1) When you realize "C" students really do rule the world.

2) When you discover ministers, priests, pastors and the like, are capable of lying, cheating, stealing, committing adultry, beating their wives, preying on children and other immoral acts.

3) When you accidently see your grandmama topless.

4) When you realize you and everyone you love will one day die.

5) When you discover liars and cheaters can and often do win.

6) When you realize evil is real and often lives a long time in the world.

7) When you discover life isn't really fair.

8) When it dawns on you that your parents do "it" or if they're older have the nerve to still be doing "it."

9) When you discover, not only do you not know most of the answers, you don't even know half of the questions.

10) When you realize a lot of people mistakenly believe they can actually sing or rap or dance or act or properly raise a kid or lead you to the promised land or ( ______ ) fill in the blank.

11) When you realize the life you dreamt in your youth, will most likely never happen.

12) When it dawns on you that this baby really does have to come out of you some kind of way.

13) When you discover that the words "one nation, under God, indivisible and with liberty and justice for all" are more of a wishful thought than an actual reality.

Any others you want to add? Be my guest. Just remember, this isn't HBO or Cinemax or any of those late night, boot-leg cable tv programs . . . so please, try to keep your "shocking moment" comments PG13 (smile).

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here! The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted! View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

GUEST BLOGGER . . . SHARON JEFFERSON . . . (aka the Old School Mix's "Sharon J.") PART III

GHANA 2007

From Sharon Jefferson's

picture collection

My Trip To Ghana (by Sharon Jefferson) . . . continued . . .

Every African-American, no, every American should pay a visit to the slave dungeons at Cape Coast. My cousin Melvin out of Chicago didn't lie when he forewarned me that I would be in tears witnessing where my ancestors were held captive before being sent to the Americas--only six percent came to the United States our tour guide said.

Our group toured a small cave-like room where slavers kept the males, who in some cases had to walk in shackles as far as 200 miles just to get there. American Legacy magazine reports that as many as 500 were crammed in the room, which appeared to me to be about the size of a living room of a moderate size home. Only a beam of light came through a small opening high on one side of the wall. There was an opening on the opposite side of the wall, through which food would be thrown. Boys as young as eight had to fight with men as old as thirty-two over scraps. The dark, damp dungeon served as a dining room, toilet and bedroom for the captives.

They stayed between three weeks to three months, according to American Legacy. The males who were considered "unruly" were sent to the condemned room and left to die. Males were seperated from the females, who endured many of the same indignities. I know some Blacks who are either in denial or ashamed to admit they had slave ancestors. There are some, Blacks and non-Blacks, who see having a slave legacy as a sign of inferiority. I think visiting slave dungeons will help many realzie what strong people Africans in the Disaspora must be to have forebearers who were able to survive the misery of the entire slavery process.

Being in the midst of the Ghanaians was like visiting West Mifflin, Pa.-- where practically everyone in the town is related to me. The Ghanaians look a lot like their cousins here in the United States. Seeing them gave me more of an appreciation for the beauty of dark skin. Ghana seems to have a young demographic. I didn't see many people older than their early 30s. Grown and sexy women, i.e. women 40-plus, were referred to as "mommy." Out of shape, Buddha belly folks, like me were a rarity. They were in great shape without ever seeing the inside of a gym or taking a Pilates class. Our group was often served fruit for dessert. Even the pastries served in the hotel had very litte sugar. Much of the Ghanaian diet is similar to that of Black West Indians. They eat a lot of rice and plantains. The hotel where some of us stayed served a drink similar to ginger beer for breakfast and another place served a delicious goat meat stew.

The areas of Ghana our group visited had a mixture of modern buildings and homes and rural dwellings. One of the villages we visited called Etomdome, had mud huts and straw roofs. Chickens and two-foot tall goats roamed freely. The villagers held a naming ceremony for us. I was given the name Akua, which means born on Wednesday. Our group brought school supplies for the children, who attend classes in a one-room schoolhouse. Teachers don't hand out many perfect attendance awards in the villages; often the children have to miss school to work to help support their families. Before we left the village, our gracious hosts treated us to bananas and coconut juice.

Little boy preparing Fu Fu

Ghana 2007

from Sharon Jefferson's

picture collection

There's a surplus of talented people in Ghana who cannot reach their highest potential because there is no system in place to do so. They've been let down first by their unsanctified British colonizers and later by leaders who have been running the country since Ghana's independence in March of 1957. For example, construction is underway to replace the presidential palace with a new 50 million dollar one, when in my opinion, the money could be better used to improve the country's water and sewage system for example. Still, Ghana remains politically stable. Let's understand that it takes generations to get a nation-state running smoothly. Remember, the United States had a Civil War less than 100 years after our independence.

Besides, Ghana is about to come up. She recently has been blessed with the discovery of 600 million barrels of oil off its shores. Let's pray that Ghana's President John Kufuor's desire to see Ghana become an "African tiger" economically, with all the money the oil will generate, comes true.

One of the highlights of my trips was a vist with King Osagyefuo Amoatia Ofari Panin who leads Akyem Abuakwa--the Eastern Region of Ghana. He held a special reception for our group. He had only recently become king after living several years in the United States. He was hesitant about taking on that role, but his mother insisted that it was his duty to come back home and serve his people.

He spoke eloquently about the relationship that he would like to see developed with Africans and African-Americans. He said "Africa wants your solidarity, not your pity." He related Black Americans' experiences to that of Joseph in the Bible. He was taken from Canaan to be a slave in Egypt. After gaining his freedom he prospered and shared his blessings with his brothers who were facing challenges in their family's motherland.

Just like any family, we help our brothers or sisters out and tomorrow they may have to bail us out. You never know when you might need a cup of oil.

Thanks Sharon for sharing your Ghananian experience with the visitors of the Old School Mix. I'm sure Sharon would be delighted to repond to any questions or comments OSM readers might have about her trip. The following is a link for more information about the National Book Club Conference.

GUEST BLOGGER . . . SHARON JEFFERSON . . . (aka the Old School Mix's "Sharon J.") Part II

"Women carrying nuts"

from Sharon Jefferson's

picture collection

Ghana 2007

MY TRIP TO GHANA

by Sharon Jefferson

The announcement that I was going to Ghana in West Africa garnered some very interesting responses. Most people were positive and understood why I would want to go to a country that could very well be the home of my ancestors. Some thought that I might be doing missionary work or perhaps going on a safari. Others were just downright negative and wanted to know why I would want to go to such a disease-infested place.

When I arrived in the capital Accra, I didn't find people who needed to be ministered to. Nor did I find a nation full of sickly, frail people, where babies walked around with bloated bellies and flies in their eyes. What I found were vibrant, healthy people who weren't afraid to show a deep reverance for God. I spent a glorious week in Ghana this past August as part of the National Book Club Conference. Apart from the book conference, which included a dinner honoring prolific author Bernice L. McFadden for her body of work, most of our time was spent touring villages, shops and historical landmarks in Ghana. Here are are just a few observations I made regarding the country and its people:

The Ghanaians really know how to get their hustle on. It was not unusual to see men and women weaving through Accra's thick early morning traffic carrying heavy baskets, bowls or pots filled with fruit, nuts or water on their heads. I saw a brother walking with a sewing machine on his head, and he carried it with the coolness of a cootie from Cleveland strutting along Kinsman Avenue in a Kangol felt cap.

An entrepreneurial spirit permeates the capital and parts of the country where we traveled. The streets were lined with all types of businesses selling such items as clothing, hand-made furniture and even old appliances. I saw one lot with nothing but old refrigerators. Casket making seems to be big business there. Many of the businesses have some type of Christian reference to God in their title. There might be the Blessed Assurance hair salon on one side of the street and God's Will Be Done restaurant on the other side. Forty percent of the population is Christian and another twelve percent are Muslim, according to information from the Ghanaian embassy in Washington D.C

We shopped at a well-known retail spot called the Art Center where we spent our Ghana Ceis (one amonts to $1.06) on snake-skinned purses, Kente cloth, wooden Ashanti stools and drums. One woman, obviously trying to win salesperson of the month, grabbed my hand before I barely had the chance to exit the bus, sat me down in a chair and attempted to do a hard sell. Unfortunately, she didn't have anything that interested me so I moved on to another section. Haggling over prices is encouraged. It got to be a game for me. At one point, I exhausted myself trying to get the price lowered on a jewelry box I wanted, but to no avail. I was so anxious to get some kind of deal, that when the salesman offered a slight discount on another item I bought, I realized later I probably paid more than I should have.

SEE NEXT POST FOR PART III . . .

(SEE THE PREVIOUS POST FOR PART I)

GUEST BLOGGER . . . SHARON JEFFERSON . . . (aka the Old School Mix's "Sharon J.") Part I

Sharon Jefferson in Ghana

standing next to a bust of

WEB DuBois

While the more boisterous types are barking orders, delegating tasks and trying to convince others of their leadership abilities, inevitably, there is always someone like my friend, Sharon Jefferson, who is somewhere quietly getting the job done.

I've always admired people like Sharon. Were I ten to twenty years younger, I'd say, "When I grow up, I want to be just like her." But the truth is, Sharon doesn't have much on me in the age department (smile). And when it comes to wisdom and the spiritual fortitude required to be not just a "reader" but a "doer" of The Word, well, she has me thoroughly beat.

Throughout my four years of exile in the Cleveland area, Sharon's friendship was, for me, a blessing and then some. As the fierceless moderator of the women's group book club at East View United Church of Christ, Sharon's book selections are what ultimately led me to find my Cleveland area church home. Newspaper notices about the club and the titles they were reading caught my attention and piqued my interest. The way I figured it, any church brave enough to read and discuss books by authors like Toni Morrison (The Bluest Eye), Charles Barkley (I May Be Wrong, But I Doubt It) and Michael Eric Dyson (Is Bill Cosby Right Or Has The Black Middle Class Lost Its Mind?) had to be worthy of at least a visit or two.

Not long after I joined both the church and the book club, I discovered Sharon was also the guiding force behind East View's MLK essay contest, an annual event that awards several sizable monetary scholarships to area students. Being able to participate as a volunteer in this inspirational program was truly one of the highlights of my entire Cleveland experience.

Of course, when I asked Sharon to write a bio for her Old School Mix guest appearance, in keeping with her humble ways, she wrote: "Sharon Jefferson is a writer living in Cleveland. When she's not daydreaming about another trip to an exotic locale, she is doing what she hopes will be the last re-write on her novel and studying creative writing at Cleveland State University." But I would be remiss if I didn't add that Sharon's work has also appeared in the pages of the Cleveland Call & Post and Essence Magazine (Oct. 1990).

Coming next (part II of this post) is a piece Sharon wrote, per my request, about the trip she recently took to Ghana in conjunction with the National Book Club Conference.

IN CASE YOU DIDN'T KNOW . . . IT'S FALL Y'ALL ! ! !

My boy, at age 4, holding what I'd dare say is the finest punkin in the patch! For whatever reason, when I stare at this picture too long, I start to hear music from the "Peanuts" cartoon series.

**To all you puriest out there, yes, I do know pumpkin is spelled with an "m." But in certain sectors of the Deep South, it has long been lovingly pronounced with an "n."

MUSICAL CHOICES . . . SOME OF THIS? . . . OR SOME OF THAT?

In typical old school fashion, I belong to a cd music club. No ipod, mp3 player, pesky downloading issues and premature deafness for me, mon . . . not yet anyway.

Most times, after I've flipped through the music club's booklet a couple of times, one selection will stand out from the rest. Sometimes it's something from the Jazz bin. Sometimes it's something from the wonderful world of R &B. And every once in a while, it's a soft Rock classic or else some of them down-home Blues. Generally though, my attention is seized by only ONE cd.

But after scanning this past week's offerings, I found myself being pulled back to not ONE, but (gasp!) THREE different cd titles. I'm sure, in time, I'll add all of these title to my collection, but practical (frugal . . . okay, cheap) gal that I am, at the moment, I'm only looking to add one.

My choices are: (1) The Police: Hits and Highlights Why? Oh, come on! This is the '80s at its best. "Every Breath You Take" , "Don't Stand So Close To Me." I know I'm not the only one who gets goose gumps and hears something primal in Sting's voice when he screams, "Roxanne!"

(2) Lou Rawls: Live! Hey, don't laugh. Okay, well after you stop laughing, check this out. This is Brother Lou in his prime, before all of that "Groovy People" business. If I'm not mistaken, this is the only Lou Rawls album my parents own . . . which is also the reason why, I never stole it ( See last year's "Holiday Pat Down" post for a list of music I did steal from the folks). Lou Rawls: Live! has classics on it like, "Stormy Monday", "Tobacco Road", "St. James Infirmary" and "The Girl From Ipanema." So, if you don't know, now you know. And last, but not least,

(3) The Very Best Of Chicago: Only The Beginning. Whenever I hear songs by the group Chicago, I think about two things, being a kid and living in Idaho. Thanks to my Dad's ties to the US Air Force, I spent part of the 3rd grade and all of the 4th and 5th grades in Mountain Home, Idaho. Seems like I heard songs like, "Saturday In The Park", "Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is? and "If You Leave Me Now" on the radio when my Mom would be ushering me off to school in the morning. That period in my life is one of my favorites.

If you'd like to weigh-in on my decision, you're welcome to post your suggestions or thoughts on the matter. Which cd would be your pick? Of, in what order would you purchase the three selections? Like I said, at some point, I'm sure I'll own all three. So, there really are no right or wrong answers.

THURSDAY THIRTEEN #5 . . . 13 OLD SCHOOL GAMES I (WE) GREW UP WITH . . . Several weeks ago, I caught the tail end of an HGTV program about the different toys and games kids commonly enjoyed "back in the day." The program led me to ponder the differences in how old school kids amused themselves vs. today's youths. When I look back on the games we enjoyed in the '60s, '70s and early '80s, quite a number of them required more than one or two bodies, involved very little if any equipment and/or gadgetry, were typically played outdoors and more often than not, involved a whole bunch of ripping and running. Of couse, we old schoolers had our share of toys and gadgets, like the Hoola Hoop, Barbie Doll, GI Joe and even Pong and the Rubic's Cube, which could be enjoyed by one or two kids. But for the purposes of this particular post, I'd like to focus on those games I (We) grew up with, which, truth be told, were actually a heck of a lot more fun when the number of kids participating exceeded three. You know, games like . . . 1) RED ROVER, RED ROVER (The worst thing about this game was when the big kid came charging over . . . If you were smart, rather than get knocked down or wind up with third degree arm burns, you and the kid standing next to you simply, let go each others hands.) 2) FREEZE TAG (This was one of my favorite games--probably because of all of the funny and creative poses involved.) 3) RED LIGHT, GREEN LIGHT (Why was the shortest kid, generally the quickest?) 4) MOTHER, MAY I? (Didn't the bossiest girl in the group *the one who most reminded you of "Margaret" from "Dennis the Menace" or "Lucy" from the "Peanuts" series* always INSIST on being the MOTHER? 5) DODGE BALL (I can only chuckle at those folks who claim this game is way too aggressive and violent for the likes of children. My grandmother, who grew up in rural South Memphis during the 19- teens and the '20s, used to speak fondly of a game they played called "fireball." In this game, kids would collect a bunch of old rags, tie them together, soak them in kerosene, set them on fire and toss them at one another. No, people, seriously . . . I couldn't make this stuff up if I wanted too.) 6) KICK BALL (My son informed me that nowadays, all of the cool kids, turn their feet and kick sideways, like the soccer players do. Yeah, kid, whatever. I'm sure we had just as much fun, kicking it straight . . . even though, sometimes the younger kids would end up flat on their backs and staring up at the sky in their attempts to do so.) 7) HIDE & SEEK (The hubby claims the older and more mannish and womanish (more Black Southern ebonics) kids in his neighborhood used to a play a verison of this game that they called, "Hide & Go Get." Of course, he swears he never indulged in such shenanigans.) 8) JUMP ROPE (We've come a long way, haven't we? Back in the day, most guys didn't play this game, the way they do now. But wasn't there always this one guy who could turn the rope, double dutch, spin around and touch the ground better than any of the girls?) 9) HOP-SCOTCH (Yeah, you could play this by yourself. But the more girls, the better the arguments.) 10) SIMON SAYS (You really couldn't play this game with everybody. Because some of the more twisted kids, would try to take the game to a whole another level. After playing with them you'd either end up in traction or needing therapy.) 11) DUCK, DUCK GOOSE! (The hubby claims the kids in his hood never played this game. Probably becasue they were too busy playing "Hide & Go Get.") 12) TOUCH/TAG FOOTBALL (My little brother suffered a broken collar bone while playing this game. Back then, he was skinny, runt of a kid and one of the neighborhood kids--a boy by the name of "Big Junior" fell on him). 13) YOU'RE IT! (Seemed like the slowest, goofiest kid always ended up being "it." Yeah, that would have been me. But wasn't there always this even goofier kid who'd fall down at your feet because he or she wanted to be tagged? Yeah, I always stepped right over that fool.) Okay, your turn. What was your favorite "old school" game? Or, if you prefer, which game did you absolutely hate and only played under duress (smile)? Feel free to mention games that aren't included on the list.

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CHARLOTTE IS SHOUTING Y'ALL . . . Art, Food, Music and a Whole Lot of Fun!

I think I've mentioned this before, but one of the things I like best about living in Charlotte--there's generally always a festival of some sort going on. September marks the kickoff of Charlotte's fall arts season. Nearly all month long, a host of arts, food, fairs, festivals and music programs take place at various venues around the city and under the banner of what folks around here call, "Charlotte Shout!"

Last weekend, my family and I ventured into Charlotte's Uptown and enjoyed some of the offerings of an event called "Blues, Brews & BBQ." At the top of this weekend's "to do" list is "Festival in the Park" which is billed as Charlotte's most popular and longest-running festival. The event, which started on Thursday (Sept. 20) and ends on Sunday (Sept. 23), takes place in Freedom Park.

Not only am I looking forward to the food and the clown fashion show (hey, I'm a kid at heart, what can I say?), I'm also looking forward to checking out the wares of the Old School Mix's resident artist, Michelle of Artventuring.

I met Michelle Davis Petelinz last year at another Charlotte art festival and I've been a fan of her work ever since. Even if you can't make the festival, it's still very much worth your while to visit Michelle's website and take a look at her work. Should you see something you like, why not place an order? Or, if nothing else, leave her a note and tell her what made you say, "Ahh, very nice."

To visit Michelle's website, go to http://www.jordanstreasures.net/

To visit Michelle's blog, go to http://artventuring.blogspot.com/

For more information on the festival highlighted in this post, go to http://www.festivalinthepark.org/

(Written while listening to John Coltrane's verison of "My Favorite Things" from the cd, John Coltrane Gold).

POPULAR LIT (PART III) . . . My "I'll Gladly Pass" List . . .

. . . Faulkner . . . Talk about coincidences. This past weekend, totally unprompted and out of the blue, a friend sent me an email, in which she raved about her love of Faulkner's "As I Lay Dying." As my dear, smart-mouthed son might say, "Well, I'm happy for her (smile)." Sadly and truthfully, Faulker has never done a whole lot for me. I have yet to feel the magic when I immerse myself in his work.

Sometimes I wonder had I taken more English/Lit courses in college, if might feel different about Faulkner and some of the other dead authors, whose works fail to move me. I'm saying, isn't College Lit where they hammer out a portion of your brain and replace it with loads of academic jargon and a bunch of other ivory-tower creations designed to keep you walking the straight, narrow and predictable paths of political correctness? No? Okay, my bad . . .

Anyway, the next author on the list of folks I'm supposed to like and regard with high-esteem, but dont--is guaranteed to draw shrieks and much pulling of hair (whether real, store-bought, processed or au natural) from certain quarters of the African American literary establishment. But here goes anyway . . . Richard Wright.

Black Boy. Native Son. Ah, no thanks. Keep it. Not for me. Really, I don't see the beauty. The angst, yeah, but not the beauty. Never have. Probably never will. To be fair, it's been years since I've read Black Boy. I should (and at some point will) probably read it again, because age has a way of changing things--perspectives in particular.

But I don't think there's any chance of me ever liking Native Son. The movie version of the book, starring Richard Wright as "Bigger Thomas" pretty much killed that for me. It's hard for me to watch that movie without either winching in pain or laughing (when and where I'm not supposed to). Very seldom do I ever say something is horrible, but truly, for me, the movie version of Native Son is just that. Were I ever forced to choose, I'd rather waste an hour of my life watching Flav Flav's ig'nant behind.

And this last one? Heck, I may as well go ahead and turn in my Sister-Girl card now . . . because it's more than likely gonna come back stamped REVOKED! as soon as I fix my lips to say anything negative about this person.

But to be clear, I don't dislike all of this author's work--just the one she's most famous for. Okay brace yourselves now. You ready? The title is . . . is . . . Their Eyes Were Watching God . . . (ducking, shielding my eyes and hanging my head in shame).

I can hear it now. "Oh, but the hummingbird . . . the rich symbolism . . . the love story . . . " Yeah, I know. Sorry, none of it moved me. Not in the least.

Here's the deal--I've owned the book, Their Eyes Were Watching God, since the mid-to late '80s. Nope, I didn't buy it. It was given to me. A number of times over the years, I've pulled the text from the shelves, started reading it, found myself growing extremely irritated and within a couple of pages, found myself tossing the book back onto the shelves.

Part of the/my problem with the work is the dialect. I hate reading books written in dialect, especially that which is intended to represent the way rural, Black Southerners speak. I almost passed on The Color Purple for the same reason. Though, I must say, in keeping with the lonely, politically-incorrect course I've charted for myself, I enjoyed the movie much more than I did the book. Oh, what did I think about the movie version of Their Eyes? Plenty. But I'd best save it for another time (smile).

Let there be no mistaking though, Zora Neale Hurston, the tilted-hat-wearing, Black woman, writer, anthropologist and all-around character . . . Oh, I ADORE her! And the collection of African American folktales she packaged under the title Mules & Men is my kind of reading . . . even though, I'd dare say, like most "good" social scientists, Zora Neale made most of that mess up (LOL)!

On a more serious note, the sad thing for me, as it pertains to Zora Neale is that I didn't even learn of her existence until my final semester of grad school. Had I not been a student of anthropology, a Black female with Southern roots, who had an interest in writing fiction, this might not have mattered . . . But you know, it's been years and I still tear up every time I think about it.

In any case, what's your book? You know, the one everybody and his or her Grandmama praises till the cows come home, but you'd rather take a karate chop to the throat before you read it again? Come on, don't be scared! Fess up! I've already taken most of the hard blows for you . . .

Written while listening to Jaguar Wright's "Free" "Timing" "Told Ya" "So High" "Been Here Before" and "Cell Bock" from her cd entitled, Divorcing Neo 2 Marry Soul.

POPULAR LIT (PT II) . . . More On "Unpopular" Opinions . . .

On one of our treks through Atlanta this past summer, we stayed a couple of nights with an old friend of the family. Our friend is a professor of Sociology at one of the liberal arts colleges in the the area and, like my son, is also a big Sci-Fi fan. She was in the middle of complimenting my boy on a couple of books he'd brought along, when my son's lack of zeal for the popular boy wizard's world suddenly reared its big head in the conversation.

I listened while my well-intentioned friend took it upon herself to convince my son of the merits of the Hogwarts crew and watched as my son sat and politely nodded. In keeping with his home-training, the boy never said anything flip or sarcastic (he only does that with me & his his Dad), but I could tell by the look on his face he was thinking the equivalent of, "Yeah lady and after you get through singing Harry's praises, I still won't be reaching for Potter anytime soon."

The look on my boy's face, I'm sure, was nearly identical to the one that surfaces on my own when people try to twist my arm into liking some piece of literature that has been deemed by them and others in the know as the best thing since . . . heck, the Ten Commandments or the Emancipation Proclamation.

For the record, I'm not in the habit of publicly bashing or bad-mouthing contemporary authors. Of course, if you are a regular reader of this blog, it goes without saying that I don't extend the same type of hands off treatment to actors, musicians, preachers, politicians and other such folks who make it their business to be all up in the limelight. Sorry, I simply don't consider any of the aforementioned my peers or colleagues and thus entitled to the same type of professional courtesy and/or respect.

Yes, I do think a lot of work out there, particularly some of the literature currently being produced by mainstream African American authors, stinks like ten day old, boiled cabbage. But personally, I see little to gain by pointing a finger at those folks. I'm all too happy to leave that sort of thing to the critics, book reviewers and academic types who get paid and make names for themselves doing so.

Besides, authors who appear to delight in ripping and trashing the work of other authors, writers and everyday hacks, typically come off, to me, as looking mean-spirited, petty or outright jealous. Hey, one person's ten day old, boiled cabbage, is another person's manna from heaven. I'm saying, if it's good to you and it doesn't make you wanna upchuck, have at it.

On the other hand, there are several authors, who, though long dead, are still being heralded and praised for their literary genius, but whose work I don't mind admitting, I'll gladly take a pass on, like for instance . . .

Well, if you REALLY want to know, you'll have to check back later for PART III (smile). In the meantime, feel free to add your comment and/or opinion to "The Mix". . .

POPULAR LIT . . . PASSING ON POTTER . . . (Part I)

My child is a reader. Not surprised? Well, some are, particularly, upon their discovery that my child is a young, African American male.

Yes, the same brown-skinned little boy who loves playing basketball and baseball and who appears to know even more sports trivia than the loud mouths he enjoys watching on ESPN'S "Around the Horn" is also a voracious reader.

The boy's taste in literature changes with the season. At the moment his preference leans toward the fantasy and sci-fi genre. Just about every book he brings through the door either has some kind of dragon, monster or sullen faced (Gothic-looking) youngster on the cover.

Periodically, I'll flip through one of his books or ask a couple of questions about what he's reading just to make sure he's not reading up on explosive technology, world domination or anything that might suggest he's considering pulling a Lizzie Borden. But basically, I let him do his thing-- and in much the same manner my parents did for me--without too much hovering or outright interference. Personally, I think it's best that way.

I must confess to being a bit surprised though, upon learning that my son isn't much of a Harry Potter fan. While he appears to enjoy the movies as much as any other kid his age, he's not terribly keen on reading any of the books. Matter of fact, the one book in the series he owned, he recently donated to a book drive.

During the most recent Potter book craze, I tried to convince him to reconsider. I hyped all of the Potter parties and events being held at area libraries and bookstores. I talked about all of the fun so many kids his ages were having dressing up in customes and the like. My son responded with a shrug and said, "Good. I'm happy for them."

Don't you just love/hate it when your kid turns around and hurls some of your own unique brand of snippiness/snarkiness/sarcasm right back at you? "Good, I'm happy for them," is so classic . . . "Me" . . . I couldn't do anything, but laugh.

Actually, I'm kind of proud that my son refuses to bow to popular opinion when it comes to what he ought to or ought not like, feel or do. More often than not, the price one ends up paying in the quest to please others and keep up with the Jones's (or the Hiltons, or Cruises or the Trumps or any of the numerous other La-De, Da-De, Wanna-Be-Somebodies) is the loss of the ability to truly know what makes one happy . . .

So, that's right young man, keep bucking the crowd, the latest fad, trends and bandwagons, especially if you're really just not feeling them. Never be afraid to do you. And always know . . . mama's got your back.

Written while listening to the songs on Rachelle Ferrell's "Individuality (can I be me?)"

8 THINGS ABOUT ME . . . THAT YOU PROBABLY DON'T EVEN WANT TO KNOW . . . BUT I'M GONNA TELL YOU ANYWAY . . .

I tried to lay low, but they got me anyway, y'all. First of all, Malcolm (of Pop Culture Dish, presented by Malcolm) gave me the following!

Yea! A Blogging Star Award!

Thanks Malcolm. But just so you know, the buck stops with me buddy. Nope, I'm not passing this baby off to anyone. I will tell everyone that the award originated with Barb at Skittle's Place. I would post the link, but I have yet to be able to access it and I've got this unwritten rule about not linking to sites I can't view. No telling what all might be going over there (smile). I'm sure it's perfectly fine, but still, a girl can never be too careful . . .

In addition, it appears I've been TAGGED by Michelle (of Artventuring). Michelle wants me to list 8 random facts about myself. Hmm. Okay. Sounds harmless enough. Shall we begin?

1) I can control my dreams. Seriously. One reason, I think, I seldom have nightmares is because when things start to go haywire, I say "Nope! Not happening!" and I wake myself up.

2) The sound of my son's laughter has always made me smile.

3) I'm TALL! 6ft or so. And no, I never played or had the desire to play basketball in my youth. But I am the only person who has ever beat my 6'3, b-ball-playing, trash-talking "little" brother in a game of HORSE!

4) I love CATS. I've owned three in my lifetime and I really do think I just might have been one in another life. The only reason I don't currently own one is because the hubby is allergic. But should we ever divorce or God-forbid, should ole boy happen to keel over before I do--it's cat city up in here, baby!

5) The first short story I ever published "New Growth" won first place in Memphis Magazine's Fiction Award Contest and earned me the tidy sum of $1,000.00!

6) I won a couple of awards for my art work when I was a teen. Thanks to my 12 grade art teacher, one of my ink drawings appeared on a local TV show in Grand Forks, North Dakota.

7) My Mama forcing me to eat okra and me gagging, and, in turn, ruining everybody's dinner is one of my earliest childhood memories.

8) I wear glasses and I want to be buried with them on. The hubby once asked, if at some point during the services, I planned on raising up and seeing who all was there. Hey, now that's a thought . . .

When you finish here, hop over to Artventuring and check out Michelle's Random 8. She tagged several other cool artists and you just might to take a peek at their lists as well.

In keeping with the spirit of "no good deed goes unpunished" I'm tagging Malcolm of Pop Culture Dish, presented by Malcolm. Also, I think I'll see if I can't get Radio Girl to play along. If anyone else would like to post a random list of eight things about yourself, leave a link or a notice about it in the comments section.

MORE EVERYDAY MUSINGS . . . OLD SCHOOL STYLE . . .

1) Has anyone, besides me, noticed that Michael Vick bears an uncanny resemblance to that bad dog named "King" that at least one neighbor kept chained up in the yard back in the day?

2) Am I the only one who thinks Flava Flav, Lil Wayne, Tommy Lee and Britney Spears all look like they could benefit from a good scrub down with some of Granny's lye soap? (Granny of "The Beverly Hillbillies" for all you youngsters out there who are scratching your heads and saying who?)

3) Am I the only one who's never seen Lindsey Lohan in anything--besides a news blurb or a clip from a tv tabloid?

4) Does anyone, besides me, wish the media would just let folks like Anna Nicole, Elvis, Tupac, Biggie and Princess Diana rest in peace?

5) Am I the only one who's noticed that men who use the word "sexy" in a song, are generally anything BUT that? (Think about it. Rod Stewart: "Do You Think I'm Sexy?" Ah, that would be a NO! Right Said Fred: "I'm Too Sexy" Yeah, in some alternate world, perhaps. Baby Face: "Grown & Sexy" Well, he got the grown part right. And for anyone who dares say Justin Timberlake: "Sexy Back"--NO, I'M AFRAID NOT . . . First of all, Cute and Sexy are two entirely different things . . . )

6) Has anyone, besides me, caught themselves singing (or humming) along with the "Viva Viagra" commercial? Uh-uh, don't lie. (Ugh, I can't get that durn song out of my head!)

7) Does anyone, besides me, get the feeling that R. Kelly's alleged victim is gonna hit menopause before the case against Kelly ever goes to trial? Dag, the man is still touring, making records, releasing even more bad videos and everything. (All kidding aside, last I heard the poor girl in this case was getting ready to have a baby ).

8) Has anyone, besides me, ever wondered why the folks hired by shows like Entertainment Tonight and America's Next Top Model to critique women's hairstyles and fashion choices are mainly men? . . . (I'm saying, men, who, themselves, typically look like oversized trolls?)

9) Has anyone, besides me, ever wondered who Sweet Pea's real daddy is? (Yes, I am talking Sweet Pea of "PopEye" cartoon fame). Wouldn't you love to see that bad episode of Maury? But rather than the most obvious suspects (PopEye or Brutus), wouldn't it be funny if Olive Oly's real baby daddy turned out to be none-other-than that ole hamburger begging "Wimpy" or even worse . . . PopEye's old lecherous daddy--"Poopdeck Pappy?"

10) Am I the only one who's noticed that people who ask, solicit and/or outright beg for your opinion . . . really and truly only want your agreement and/or affirmation (*smile*)

Yeah, I know . . . on most of those, I'm probably the only one. But if you do have any comments and/or additions, be my guest . . .