Wise Little Girl

I briefly shared the situation surrounding Trayvon Martin's murder with my little one. Just to keep her abreast of the news and to make sure she got the facts from me and not anyone else. Her response? She got up from her seat, shook her head and walked away muttering,

"This country ain't been right in a long time."

*smooches...super proud to be her mom*
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I swear, she's an old soul; she's definitely been here before!

I Want Gerlado To Shut The Hell Up.

The problem with freedom of speech is that you have to extend the right to morons, too. This never upsets me more than when so-called journalists and people with a lot of notoriety are reckless with what they say publicly.

Last week, Geraldo Rivera tweeted that Trayvon Martin's hooded sweatshirt was as much to blame for his death as the man who shot him. That Blacks and Latinos need to warn their children about wearing the popular garment, as it may result in them being perceived as suspicious troublemakers.

First of all, I want to punch Geraldo in the face SO HARD for that statement, which, I tweeted back to him, is akin to telling a woman her mini-skirt was to blame for her rape. Are we still on this clothing shit? We're blaming the victim because he wore a garment that is worn by young men and women--of all backgrounds--across the country? A basic piece of outerwear that's meant to keep us warm in the spring and fall? Get all the way the fuck out of here, Geraldo, and have a seat.

Second, it divides us as a people, GERALDO, when you sit there trying to rep your Latino background but then do us a disservice by not acknowledging what's really going on. People who look to you (for whatever reason) might take your comment and feel like they're wrong for being upset with the system or with the shooter. Don't shame us in this way. We have a right to be outraged. A hoodie had NOTHING to do with this.

Lastly, his ignorant statement trivializes the fact that a young Black man was pursued, shot and killed by a racist, wannabe cop who targeted him for the simple fact that he was black and walking around in a gated community, even after the 911 dispatcher told him not to get out of his car.

I've always thought Geraldo was full of it. Even as a little girl the sight of his stupid, mustached face annoyed me to no ends. His latest comment (an attempt at hogging the spotlight?) just validated my initial opinion.

*smooches...tired of these pundits twisting the truth*
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y'all wonder why I don't bother with the news...

This Is Your Artery On Fries

A few years ago, Cathi and I went to the Bodies exhibit at the seaport to get a real good look at what our innards look like. It was fascinating! Mostly, it made me think about the impurities I allowed to enter my body and how the amount of body fat I allowed to linger on me would affect my health. I dare say the exhibit contributed to Cathi giving up cigarettes for good. It was an eye-opener and I recommend everyone see this exhibit if it's in your town.

I remembered this trip to the museum when I recently read an article where famous southern foodie, Paula Dean, was quoted as saying "I didn't choose diabetes..." after admitting to having the disease for a couple of years, even as she promoted severely unhealthy recipes on her cooking show (I was shown a link for her Deep Fried Butter recipe and I almost threw up).

www.eatingrules.com

Oh, Paula. You may not have chosen diabetes, but you certainly invited it into your temple every time you ate the crap you were eating and opted for a night on the couch instead of in the gym. Listen, I read the Science Times. I watched my grandmother suffer the effects of and finally succumb to diabetes. You can't tell me that in Paula Dean's case, diabetes was just lurking about waiting to pick on an innocent bystander and afflict them.

A Jaded original drawing/re-enactment; may not be accurate.

That's not how it works. She facilitated it; regardless if she wanted the disease or not, she did nothing to prevent it. People who develop all types of maladies born of their own actions, in my opinion, need to stop acting like this was something awful that happened to them out of the blue. I do wish Ms. Dean well, but I found her statement to be irresponsible. We're in an age where people want to blame the alignment of the planets n shit for their problems and it needs to stop. Obesity, poor health, lack of proper physical fitness is a huge problem in this country, and Ms. Dean's passing-of-the-buck just won't cut it.

You did choose diabetes, Paula. One piece of deep-fried-butter at a time.

*smooches...sick and tired of excuses*
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sometimes I just want to SHAKE people...

Dominican Heritage Month, Day 14

I'd be remiss to let this month of special posts go by without introducing y'all to Manuel "Minus P" Pimentel, the hilarious genius behind That's Dominican [dot] com. (Now, please note that to really get into his comedy videos you will need to speak Spanish. Sorry, gringos, but sometimes it just beeeezzzz that way.)

I first came across Minus P via his old MySpace blog way back in the day. He had the craziest stories and I loved to read about all his adventures on the road as a rapper, and the groupies that followed him around. Well color me psyched when I realized the funny man behind a clever video about the would-be terrorist caught in New York City back in November was the same crazy dude! I quickly became a fan all over again!



And in honor of St. Valentine's Day, child, get into this foolishness:



Besides the videos, though, the site is chock-full of information for our English-speaking homies: a glossary of Dominican slang (so you'll know when Mami is talking about you to your face) and interviews with some of our notables. So sit back with a tall frosty bottle of Presidente, practice yelling out EL DIACHE!!! and get one of your "Spanish" friends to translate the many funny videos from That's Dominican [dot] com, and it might give you a small taste of what it was like to have grown up like me.

Wonderful, beautiful, Dominican me.

*besos...for the funniest Dominicans outside of my family*
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Like for real I wait for new videos like a crackhead SMH

Dominican Heritage Month, Day 10

"We are the champions, my friends, and we'll keep on fighting, til the end!"



Los Leones del Escogido have won the 2012 Caribbean Series. What a great way to prepare for the upcoming baseball season!

I wish I had been there to lose my mind in the stands with my fellow beisbol fans, but still... DAMN it feels good to be a part of a winning team for once!

*besos...feeling AMAZING right now*
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first the Giants win the Super Bowl, now this. Oh my smile shall be grand all weekend long :)

Dominican Heritage Month, Day 9

courtesy of TruTV.com

 Growing up, no one in my family ever talked about Rafael Leónidas Trujillo, aka El Generalissimo. I never even knew of him until I was much older and in college. I always thought it was odd that certain family members felt disdain towards our Haitian neighbors but never bothered to ask why. After all, back in my day, children were seen and not heard, and you never ever questioned adults about adult business.

Also, my family members didn't get run off the Island. No one was in immediate danger with El Generalissimo's regime (that I know of) and simply came to New York "for a better life." Us kids had nothing to suspect.

So color me stupid when I found out about this huge black cloud that still hangs over our piece of Hispaniola:

Using the Army as his enforcer, Trujillo wasted no time in setting up a repressive dictatorship and organized a vast network of spies to eliminate any potential opponents. His henchmen did not hesitate to use intimidation, torture, or assassination of political foes to terrify and oppress the population to ensure his rule and amass his fortune. Before long he consolidated his power to such a degree that he began to treat the Dominican Republic as his own personal kingdom. He was so arrogant and confident that, after just six years at the head of government, Trujillo changed the name of the capital city from Santo Domingo (which name had existed for over 400 years), to Cuidad Trujillo (Trujillo City).

When I dug deeper, trying to understand where this animosity with/toward Haiti came from I found out that (besides there being tense relations since colonial days) even though Trujillo was of Haitian ancestry, he:

...never [hid] his racist ideas about the "inferiority and unattractiveness" of the black-skinned Haitians, so in 1937, after first negotiating an internationally lauded border agreement with Haiti's president, he ordered his army to oversee the massacre of all Haitians on the Dominican side of the border.

And how was El Generalissimo just allowed to be all Hitler-like and not start a war? Well for one, no one ever gave (gives) a shit about the Brown Nations. Let's just be real about that shit. And secondly:

courtesy of repeatingisland.com

Trujillo received American support of his leadership because he offered generous and favorable conditions to American businessmen wanting to invest in the Dominican Republic. More importantly to the U.S., after World War II, Trujillo showed his political support of the U.S.A.'s stand against the evils of communism.

As the information began to unfold before me, I realized that Abuelo was former military police, and while I was always so proud of his importance and great standing in the community- I mean imagine being 10 and having a maid, chauffeur, cook and armed guards at your door! I felt like royalty- it occurred to me that he would have been employed with Trujillo's government. The evil Raquel in me was all HELL YEAH, BITCHES! We BAAAAADDDDD MotherFuckers! Then the empathetic Raquel felt bad for all the people that never made it out alive from under Trujillo's boots. Like the Mirabal sisters. And then paranoid Raquel realized OH MY GOD! Those guards were there because my very 10-year-old life was in danger just by being related to this man! It was a lot to process.

I still don't know much about my family's experience under Trujillo. I fully intend to get more from them while I work on the biography of the Penzo, Acosta and Ortiz clans from whence I came. But for now, just know that Trujillo plays a role in my family, in every Dominican's family, and even if they said it wasn't bad...it really was. Perhaps nothing is more telling of how terrible it truly was than the deliberate silence I grew up with.

Pick up a copy of Julia Alvarez's "In The Time of the Butterflies" to read a fictionalized-realistic account of what life may have been like for my ancestors in the Dominican Republic, and why they don't ever mention it even today, and it might give you a small taste of what it was like to have grown up like me.

Wonderful, beautiful, Dominican me.

*besos...uncovering new mysteries everyday*
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shout out to Hispaniola.com for helping a sista out with facts (as they were) n shit.

I Made A Bet

So the Giants and the Patriots are all REEEE-MATCH for the Super Bowl on February 5th, and as many of you know, I have much family up in the Boston area so we're a bit divided on this game. But it's always fun to send them stank messages of "Your team sucks" or "We're gonna kick your ass" whenever I can, especially because the Mets don't play the Red Sox during the regular season. This is the only time a little friendly competition can occur between us.

This afternoon I decided to send Nina a little reminder of the fact that THE GIANTS RULE AND THE PATRIOTS DROOL and sweetened it all with a friendly wager. If Eli gets some act right and brings it home, Nina has to come to NYC and go rock wall climbing with me all day. If the Patriots catch a lucky break and win, I have to go to Massachusetts to... SKI! I almost died when she chose that activity, because y'all already know I don't partake of activities where my two feet aren't planted firmly on solid ground or something like it. And I hate to fall. I'll do anything not to fall. Falling is one of my biggest phobias. Falling leads to broken bones. Broken bones means pain and doctors and hospital stays and OPERATIONS.

But I'm no punk. And also, the Giants are going to win so whatever.

GO BIG BLUE!!!

*smooches...wishing I had learned from the last bet I made*
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damn Buffalo Bills from hell. I will forever hate them...

Freedom To Choose Means Freedom To Choose

Many women have come before me, fighting the good fight against all odds to ensure that I'd have equal rights in this country and beyond. We're not 100% there but we're definitely a long way from where we were. Women head corporations, small businesses, adopt children and own property, all without having their dads, husbands or brothers cosign or vouch for them. Hillary Clinton even came close to getting the Democratic National Committee to select her as their candidate for president of the United States.

I applaud all the women that were harassed, terrorized, jailed, spat on, abused or humiliated so that I, and my daughters, could have a fair shot at a good life, free of prejudice. I'm definitely grateful.

But with that freedom, some of us women (and men) have forgotten that what was really being fought for was to not be seen as a second-class citizen. To have the power to choose our paths to happiness. And that everyone's happiness does not look the same.

I recently read a blog post by Quiana Stokes entitled "How To Survive As A Stay-At-Home-Girlfriend" where she proceeded to describe how she keeps her and her boyfriend's home tidy, prepares his meals and makes herself available to him sexually whenever he wants. It was nothing shocking- a lot of Stay-At-Home-Moms do pretty much a lot of that stuff, too, with the noted difference of a marriage license and one or two rugrats traipsing about. However the people in the comments, as internet folks are wont to do, trashed this woman, and blamed her for setting women back hundreds of years. It all made me sigh heavily.

Listen, suffragettes and feminists battled for our right to be whomever we wanted to be. If what the author is choosing is to be the woman behind the man then let her be! She's not setting anyone back by choosing this path of happiness. She's just exercising her freedom to choose. The Equal Rights Movement wasn't about making us all CEOs and Presidents and Boss Hogs, it was about opening the doors to that life for- are you ready? THOSE WHO WANT IT.

It's not fair to force your ideology on others because they're not doing what YOU would do. If she's happy being this guy's live-in girlfriend then let her! Have a tall glass of Shut The Fuck Up and let her enjoy her choices! I'd hate to think that anyone would talk sideways about me if I decided to be a housewife one day. What business is it of anyone?

It's not illegal to bypass a corporate life or to forgo being Super Independent Feminist. It's not the life everyone dreams of. It's just one of the many choices we're lucky to have. All the Judgy McJudgertons need to sit all the way down and get their life. Quiana Stokes already got hers.

*smooches...wishing I had a Quiana in my life*
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I'd love to come home to a clean house and a hot meal, shooo! y'all just jealous of her stee-lo!

Wherein I Realize White America Still Thinks Of Us As Dumb Ni**ers

This post used to be a rant about an article I read online where a middle-aged, middle-class, privileged white man gave his opinion of what poor, black kids need to do to succeed in life. And it used to be filled with F-bombs and threats and posturing because his asinine solutions included the use of technology (which many poor families don't have access to) and public libraries (that are suffering budget cuts left and right) and Cliff's Notes. I kid you not. I was angry that he had the audacity to think that poor black kids could have been saved this whole time if they just went to the library and learned some programming software. That's all they need to get out of the ghetto, according to this "journalist".

So this post used to be my knee-jerk and infuriated reaction to his ignorance to the real plight of poor kids everywhere- not just black kids but especially black kids.

Sir, have you ever lived in the ghetto? Where fathers are scarce but drug dealers are plentiful and take their place? Where mom's have to borrow from Peter to pay Paul, and still it's not enough so she has to work long hours for low pay? Where bologna sandwiches or cans of no frills "pork food" are dinner? Where the parents are sometimes less educated than the kids? Where kids are unattended after school and often have the responsibilities at home that should be carried out by an adult? Where resources don't seem to reach?

The reality is no amount of computer classes can overcome hunger or fatigue or depression or a low self-esteem. When everything around you is bleak and dream-crushing all you can think about is getting out by any means necessary. Sometimes that means illegal activities. A lucky few may find a mentor at school. Others may chance it and persevere despite their environment. But sir, have you ever known that kind of desperation? That feeling that you had to get out or you'd die? Have you ever had that fight or flight instinct kick in on your way to buy milk at the bodega around the corner?

Sir, you don't know the ghetto. You don't know the plight of the poor, be they black, white, Latino, Asian or whatever. You don't know how they eat, breathe and dream their surroundings, and how that affects everything they do. Cliff's Notes won't change the fact that some poor kid in the ghetto didn't get enough sleep because there was a shoot-out on his block, or that he didn't get any breakfast at home because there simply wasn't any food to make. And sir, chances are, if some of the neighborhood kids saw him reading Cliff's Notes, they'd probably steal his book bag and toss it somewhere. Just for kicks.

This is the ghetto. This is why a lot of kids don't make it out and succeed. I'm not making excuses, sir, I'm stating the facts of the neighborhood I grew up in. I was lucky. I made it out by the skin of my nose. My mom was the rare mom that went the extra mile to get us into private schools and summer programs and kept us out off the block. But not everyone is my mom. Some mom's take up with abusive men or are hooked on that shit or just plumb don't give a rat's ass about their kids.

You can't just sit there from your ivory tower and claim to know what a poor black kid needs to succeed in life, sir, because you're not one. And you'll never know what it feels like to be born with so many strikes against you that any effort seems futile.

Don't presume to know what poor black kids needs, sir, and then proceed to write a bullshit article about it because when it comes down to it all ANY poor kid needs is for people like you and me to stop talking the talk and start walking the walk. So what's it gonna be?

*smooches...saddened by the blatant racism that sparked that article*
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I'm trying to decide if I prefer my klansmen covert or in my face...

An Open, Horizontal, Leaderless Process? Ummm...

I watched this clip and just laughed and laughed and laughed...



...and then I got a little sad because this screams of "Animal Farm" and "Lord of the Flies" and yeah, I'll say it, a little bit like communism. This is the movement that is supposed to represent me? I don't know, son, I just don't know...

*smooches...sitting back and taking in the organized chaos*
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and the hypocrisy of some of these protesters! HMPH
shout out to The F$%k-it List for passing it on.

It's Not Your Uterus

Guess who's pregnant again?! She of the magical reproductive organs, Michelle Duggar. And guess who was all over the news and interwebs judging her and calling her names? EVERYONE. I may have even made a joke or two on the twitter.

But here's the thing all of you who called her stupid (and much worse names) are forgetting- it's not YOU having this baby. It's not you who has to support it. It's not you that has to raise it. It's the Duggars; a family of 3trillion (sorry, I had to!) people strong who are self-sufficient, enterprising, God-fearing and debt-free.

Nothing is coming out of your pocket to care for this baby so why are you up her birth canal? If she wants to repopulate the planet with a bunch of pale-faced Duggar babies, so what? This woman isn't doing anything her body wasn't built to do. Just because the society you were raised in looks down on having more that 2.5 children doesn't mean that's how she wants to live her life. And lucky for her she lives in AMERICA where she has that choice. CHOICE.

When I was first introduced to this family via some morning news show, I was admittedly concerned about the resources they were bogarting with their big-ass family. But as the years moved on I let it go. India and China have 655 Gazillion folks already. Michelle Duggars 20 babies aren't going to make not even a blip on the overpopulation radar.

So go on, Duggars, have 20 more babies if you want. Ain't none of my business, boo. Live your life.

Unless of course you're a part of some government conspiracy to initiate a Robot and/or Race War. In which case I will team up with ALL BRANCHES OF MY FAMILY, which absolutely out-number your measly family of 22, and kill you dead.

*smooches...kinda tired of the internet's negativity*
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I think I'm ready to bring more positivity into my Circle of Trust; blame yoga!

Dear Rep. Pete DeGraaf (R-Kansas),

I'm sure this isn't the first letter of its kind you've received since making the comment that, and I'm paraphrasing, "women should prepare for rape-pregnancy with abortion-only insurance same as one would prepare for accidental death with life insurance or for a flat tire by keeping a spare in the trunk." Did I get that right? I'm sure I did because I read the article quoting your insensitive remarks about four times to make sure I'd read it correctly.

Much to my dismay, yes, you did equate being violated and assaulted to getting a flat tire. And I'm trying to figure out if it's that you hate women or the power we have to create life (or not)? Is that what propels you to have the audacity to think YOU and others of your ilk should be in charge of MY reproductive organs?

But I'm getting off point. I'm not here to debate whether it's right or wrong for women to have abortions because that will get us nowhere. You're clearly against them and I'm clearly pro-choice. I would just like to know who hurt you in your life so badly that you could be so flippant about the traumatic after-effects of a rape?

What will it take for you and your cohorts to see that, in your mad rush to shove your patriarchal, archaic and chauvinistic agendas down the throats of American women, you are doing them a great disservice? You're all so focused on how to circumvent Roe vs. Wade that you'd spit on a rape victim's feelings to get your way? You'd deny a poor woman medical attention just to get your way?

This stopped being about abortion a long time ago. Admit it. Now it's about control and how to get most of it in your corner. The thing is, Rep. DeGraaf, while you're all playing politics with our collective uterus, we're suffering, we're dying and we're losing faith in our government. If that was your goal all along then let me be the first to applaud you. You're well on your way to victory.

Sincerely,
Raquel I. Penzo
American Citizen
Supporter of Women's Rights
Registered Voter

They Be Strategic, We Be Reactionary

The other night I watched Signs again, and **SPOILER ALERT** in the basement scene, when Mel Gibson and company are trying to escape the alien invaders, he says, “They’re just making noise. They’re trying to distract us…keep our attention on the door.” He was right, too, because seconds later another alien tried to gain access to the basement through an old coal chute located in the corner.

Shortly after I watched the film, someone wrote a letter to the Brooklyn Public Library stating that, according to state law, there is supposed to be a flag flying outside of each branch building.

My initial reaction was WHO THE FUCK CARES? Especially with so many other serious things happening in the world, why is this person making such a hubbub- contacting the media with an open letter on his website- about flags?

Then it dawned on me: it’s a diversionary tactic. And I extrapolated it to what I think the entire tea party is doing to us right now, strategically making noise about bullshit, meanwhile someone is sneaking in through the old coal chute in the corner of the basement.

Our mistake was thinking that they’re dumb rednecks who hate democrats and colored people. From what I've seen they're cunning, organized and have a very strategic agenda. I don't pretend to know much about politics, either- this is just a layman's observation from the outside looking in.

And I don't know about you but I'm kind of scared at what that will mean for us as a nation. Y'all keep fuckin' around and next thing you know: President Palin is killin' moose all up and through the White House.

*smooches...rethinking this whole "Black President" thing*
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I guess we weren't ready 'cause people done lost their god damned mind since Obama took office. damn shame, too. just a damn shame.

The End Of A Jaded Era

Okay, maybe not an era, but definitely the end of what I and about four of you considered an important part of The Jaded Empire: As of February 1st, Monday Musings w/The Jaded NYer & Friends will no longer be on the air.

On Wednesday I received an email from Dan Kashman at Blog Talk Radio outlining a new fee schedule to which I’d have to adhere if I wished to continue my show as is. He did offer a revised, more restricted, free account that allowed me to “conduct only one, 30-minute show per day” and “upload and store a maximum of three audio files for use during your show” but that's not something that works for me and the dynamics of my segments.

Blog Talk Radio is also taking away my ability to “schedule shows during prime time hours” or “schedule private episodes.”

Therefore I made the executive decision to just end the show. I will not heed any suggestions to find a new home or continue with a 30-minute segment instead because frankly it’s not worth it.

At most, five of you listen to the show live and MAYBE one of you will actually call in. If Monday Musings depended on ratings to survive we would have been canceled faster than NBC’s “Undercovers” (SHOTS FIRED!!). Perhaps that’s my fault for not stepping up my marketing game, or maybe I chose a sucky time slot, or maybe I’m just not as great a radio host as y’all have pumped me up to be. Whatever the reason, I don’t feel it’s worth it to continue chasing my tail with this venture.

Each week I’m practically begging for listeners, trying to choose topics of interest to you, etc, only to be disappointed episode after episode. It has become the equivalent of an abusive relationship. Every Monday I tell myself “This is the week they’re going to tune in. This is the week they will call me and ask questions and interact with me.” But I’m proved wrong every time.

And so it is with a heavy heart that I put Monday Musings to rest after 2.5 seasons. It was a nice run with great co-hosts and discussions and such. But Blog Talk Radio has, with these new changes, offered me an opportunity to stop beating a dead horse, give it a proper burial and move on.

Thank you to everyone who listened and called and co-hosted and encouraged me along the way. “I hope you had the time of your life.”

*smooches...turning my focus elsewhere*
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there are still 5 episodes left (of course!); feel free to ignore those as well. we won’t miss you one bit.

Say You Knew Me When

This summer I decided to start contributing to a friend's online publication, XI Magazine. The clips on my resume were old, I had been buried in Public Relations mode for too long and the site looked cool, so I started taking on assignments and pitching story ideas.

Last week I was privy to a listening event for Carlos Santana's new CD, "Guitar Heaven," and the subsequent review I wrote got noticed by all the right people (special shout out to my homie, the very talented and sexy photographer Marcin Kaliski who came with me, last minute, and took some great shots of the event). I got word that the article will be featured/added to Carlos Santana's website, facebook, etc, and I almost fell out of my seat. Like, important muckity muck types, and hopefully Santana himself, will be seeing this article. It was enough to make my day.

It's no secret I'm going THROUGH it right now; shit just ain't right at Casa Jaded and I honestly don't know how I'm maintaining and if I will come out of this in one piece. That bit of recognition did so much for me and my ego...they'll never know how much.

Thank you to everyone at XI Magazine for the opportunity to contribute, and the awesome folks associated with the listening party I attended who had the foresight to pass the link on to the staff over at Sony Music. I'm going to hold on to this victory for at least a couple of weeks!

*smooches...proud to be "just a writer"*
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and you can read the article HERE... it is pretty amazing if I do say so myself.

Our Tragedy Is Not Your Tour Stop!!!

I've been spending a lot of time in the Wall Street area lately and I've noticed something that I didn't think would bother me as much as it does. Tourists swarming around the World Trade Center site as if it's the freaking Met.

I can't tell you how many foreigners I've had approach me and ask in their broken English, "World Trade Center, please?" At first I would point them in the direction of the site. Then I started to really get disgusted with them. Really? Taking pictures and peeking through the fence to see the rubble? Now, just for kicks I'll respond with a "It doesn't exist; the buildings were BOMBED!" or a "No speekee dee eenglish" or a simple side eye and walk away.

Fuck you and your morbid curiosity! Are you kidding me with this bullshit? And while you're at it, tell Bloomberg and all the rest of those assholes to sit on a crab-infested dick for allowing this tragedy to become a tourist attraction. What the hell do you hope to see over there? A skeleton? Bomb remnants? WHAT??? Just go ride the ferry or annoy people along 5th Avenue trying to shop for things you can't afford and LEAVE THE WORLD TRADE CENTER ALONE. I totally want to go all Julia Sugarbaker on them for real:



September 11, 2001 was a terrible day. I was all the way in the Bronx TERRIFIED that those two buildings were not the only targets, knowing that my mom and aunt were working in midtown and unable to get to them. I knew Irene was close by in the Chase building and I couldn't reach her, either. Phone lines were fucked up and I couldn't reach anyone and I was freaking out because I just KNEW they weren't done. I just KNEW the Empire State building (two blocks away from my mom) and the Chrysler building (a few blocks away from my aunt) were next and I wasn't afforded the opportunity to freak out because I was at work, starting my new job at a private school in Riverdale. And that's just one story from someone who was far, far away from all of it up on W242nd Street. There are much more horrifying, first-person accounts of that day. We all STILL have nightmares about it, and to this day loud noises in Manhattan make me jump and fear for my life. FOR MY FREAKING LIFE!

Is THAT what you're hoping to get from visiting the site? Well lookit there, I just saved you the trouble. Now you can avoid a Jaded beat-down and NOT GO TO THE WTC SITE AS IF IT'S A STOP ON YOUR WORLD TOUR!

And don't even get me started on this mosque nonsense I keep hearing about! Give me a freakin' break already! Now you want to control what religious institutions get built? Today it's a mosque, tomorrow it's a synagogue... When will it end?

*smooches...so done with tourists & politicos it's not even funny*
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let one mo' fool ask me how to get there and see if they don't get assaulted right there in front of Trinity Church!

"Ojala El Otoño En Vez De Ojas Secas"

Last week, while surfing the 'net, I came across an article in Time Magazine about the baseball academies in the Dominican Republic, "Struck Out By Beisbol" that I just HAD TO get my hands on. I actually skipped lunch, went to the library and PAID to photocopy the article so that I could read it on the train later that day. That's how bad I wanted it. (You can click HERE for a sort-of follow up to that article posted on Digital Sports Daily)

It did not completely disappoint. Meaning, it didn't really tell me anything drastically new. A few months ago over on SistaSports I reviewed the movie Sugar, which I saw at the theaters on a whim. And just sat there, jaw on the ground, as the truth behind these academies was portrayed on the big screen for me. I never knew. I swear I never new.

I started to wonder if Manny Ramirez went through all that and maybe that's why he's such an asshole- those kinds of thoughts. So the deplorable conditions at these "schools" were not a shock to me.

What bothered me more was, yet again, being slapped in the face with the reality of the conditions in DR as a whole that makes it so easy for these academies to pluck young men out of school and dangle the hope and promise of a MLB contract in front of them and make them believe it. And it's not like I don't know the island is poor. I've SEEN it with my own eyes. Slept on a cot in a shack w/a tin roof in a shanty town, complete w/dirt floors and a latrine. We had to get water from a well up the road for chrissake! I KNOW they're poor.

What this article did was remind me that the game I love so much is so tainted. And the country I long to live in is so corrupt and desperately backwards. And the place I currently call home is such a USER.

And maybe I need to shut the fuck up the next time I can't afford to buy the moisturizer I want from Clinique, because in exchange I have food in my cupboards, a real roof over my head, electricity and modern plumbing. I don't have to pull K out of school and send her to live in a slummy apartment and made to work like a horse on the baseball diamond just to keep us fed. But more importantly, I won't have to see her return home, defeated, uneducated, unskilled and depressed, because the goddamn Yankees didn't sign her.



Perspective, man. It made me cry on the subway.

*smooches...starting out the week being thankful instead of bitter*
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besides, it's probably my perpetually stank attitude that has caused my foot to act up. At least that's what WebMD says...

Happy Hour Invite + Government Conspiracies!

Need More DRANKS In Yo Life?
A few weeks ago Ms KarrieB was guest bartending at a spot in the Financial District and of course, as I do for ALL my bartending buddies, I went to support. While there, I gave the hostess my email so they could send me event information, etc and guess what?? I won a free happy hour!

The deal is: from 6-8PM, all of my drinks are free, and anyone who says my name at the door will get a wristband which entitles them to 1/2 price drinks during my happy hour. COOL, RIGHT?!

So if you didn't kill your liver with Cinco de Mayo festivities, peek in at 1834 Bar & Burger, located at 62 Pearl Street in Manhattan, from 6-8PM. I will be there, eating my weight in Buffalo wings and demanding all sorts of drinks that don't go together.

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I Didn't Want To Be Right
You've all heard about that "bomb" in Times Square by now, right? Right. Show of hands, how many actually believed that malarkey the police & the media were trying to force feed us? NOT I!! You know my policy on the government. Oh, you don't? THEY LIE! And this story just didn't make any sense.

Think about it: terrorist bombers all over the world successfully blow shit up in crowded areas all the time. You want me to believe that this bomb fizzled by chance? No, my brother, let me tell you the REAL story.

That bomb was a plant. By the government. Placed in a busy corner of Times Square where it was sure to get noticed and reported and "investigated" by the police. News was to spread like wildfire scaring the bejeezus out of citizens who'd already begun to put 9/11 behind them. And for what? MONEY. So that Bloomberg and the Feds can justify an increase in "defense funds." If you think I'm lying, check the news and see where Bloomberg was on Wednesday. GO ahead, I'll wait.

...
...
...

Did you see? YUP. Bloomberg was in Washington, DC, asking for MORE MONEY for HOMELAND SECURITY. I can't make this stuff up. The best part is the poor patsy they got to take the fall... dude lost everything, which I'm sure made him the perfect target for the government conspiracy. Well I'm calling BULLSHIT on this WHOLE operation...fuck what y'all think!

*smooches...wondering if it's the liquor that has me all loca in the cabeza*
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nah, I'm right. The govt is out to get us all. and YES your precious Obama is in on it, too!!

Philanthropically Speaking

It seems like every year or two there is a devastating natural disaster that calls on those who have to open their hearts and, if they can and want, give to those who have not.

And I don't say that to trivialize any of the recent events that have taken hundreds of thousands of lives and created who knows how many orphans and homeless families. I just want you to re-read that first sentence again, especially the part that says "if they can and want."

Why do I call that part out? Because I've noticed a particularly distasteful trend on Twitter, FB and blogland of guilting or shaming people into donating money to various charities aiding the Haitian people.

I am absolutely of the belief that once I "make it" I should give back and pull up my brothers and sisters still in the struggle. Sometimes you'll hear me say that when my media empire blows up I'm bringing you with me, and I mean that. And I also have a list of charities near and dear to my heart that will receive annual donations, grants and/or endowments from me and the media empire, above and beyond whatever it is I do, or don't do for them now.

You won't see me list them or call them out, though, because I am also of the belief that philanthropy is a personal, private matter. Whom I give to and how much I give is none of anybody's business, except maybe Uncle Sam (that nosy, greedy motherfucker!) and my Mami (who will be in charge of my loot) and my lawyers/estate planners/beneficiaries.

The rest of you can STEP w/the guilt trips and obnoxious GIVE NOW tweets and status messages. If you gave, that's awesome. Beautiful. Haiti needs more people like you right now and from now on. Does that mean you can rub it in others' faces, like those somma-time Catholics that LIVE for Ash Wednesday so that they can flaunt their "faith" to the outside world? Please. I hope not.

Last week while on the phone with Nina I said I wouldn't write about this tragedy in Ayiti because it's a personal matter, and I didn't feel that I had to share anything about it with you. Especially what, if anything, I've done to help my people across that 193 mile border. You don't know me like that. Yeah, you read this blog and I pour about 85% of my real life onto this site for your reading pleasure, but please don't ever mistake it for KNOWING. ME. LIKE. THAT. I would never presume the same about you.

But the reason for this rant (because you know I always have a reason) is that yesterday someone made a snide comment asking why was Oprah Winfrey concerned w/what Wyclef Jean was donating to Haiti when she has enough money and should be giving, too. It struck a nerve because what AUDACITY to tell someone what to do with their own hard-earned money. How do we know what Ms. Winfrey has or hasn't done for Haitian relief efforts, and why does she have to, AND why is it our business, just because she isn't screaming it from the mountaintops? Fall back, SON!

YES what happened, and its aftermath, is HORRIBLE, and this country, these people, those BABIES, need help from wherever it may come. But getting all high and mighty, holier-than-thou with other people's wallets? Who the fuck are you?

Listen, give, don't give. Help, don't help. Just do what your conscious is comfortable with, not what a somma-timer says you should do. Chances are in a month, many of these same people will forget that Haiti even exists. Just like they forgot about Louisiana, and just like they forgot about those areas near the Indian Ocean.

*hops off soapbox and throws it at Twitter*

And another thing: don't EVER, IN YOUR LIFE, tell me what to do. EVER.

*smooches...especially after the tongue lashing I just gave you*
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only a small part of this was directed at one person so don't try to start no online beef...it's something that has been bothering me since the 13th and I've tried to hold it in but yesterday, man, a spark was lit and I couldn't find my fire extinguisher...

Keep Your Dick In Your Pants And Your Legs Closed!

I tried to just mind my business throughout all the infidelity chatter going on since Mr. Tiger "Sweet Dick" Woods found himself stone cold BUSTED with an impressive number of alleged hos (and I only say impressive because I'm shocked he had ONE ho, let alone 10, seeing as he looks like a black/Asian version of Corky from Life Goes On...), but I can stay silent no more. Why? Because y'all keep freakin TALKING about it.

So fine, you wanna talk about it? Let's take it to the airwaves:

What: Monday Musings/Mars vs. Venus Pt.3: Infidelity...How Freakin Hard Can It Be??
When: TONIGHT @ 10PM
Where: Dammit, if you don't know by now, I swear...



My co-hosts tonight is Brother Omi (y'all know him already) and Nikita Banks (she's a cool gyal and owner of The Single Girl's Guide To Men), and of course, the usual cast of misfits will be all up and through the chatroom so you won't want to miss this one.

No, for real, don't miss this one or I will hunt you all down and scalp you in your sleep!

That is all.

*smooches...sharpening my blades, just in case*
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I really hate to resort to threats n shit but y'all be testing me!