Monday, December 31, 2012

Grand Passion

It's the end of a love story that no one could understand, not even those involved.

We never met cause we have always known each other. Or so it seemed when we first saw each other in this lifetime. There was something extremely familiar and it shook me up, but of course it made her laugh. She laughed at me as I stumbled around trying to get away, from what, I didn't know at the time.

We would see each other again when she came to my house with friends. There it was again, as it would continue to be for the rest of our lives together--this time. I could no longer run away. (I was  afterall in my own home.) We circled one another and asked questions, like secret agents trying to see if the other knew the code.

Still not sure if it wasn't all just a trap, we asked the ultimate question.

"When's your birthday?"

Nov 1.

Not my birthday, your birthday!
Wait, how'd you know that?

It's also your birthday? All Saints Day, AND you're a recovering Catholic too. Yes, of course I also thought we got the day out of school because it was my birthday….

And so it went on from there. The two wild ones that should have never been allowed to sit next to each because of the laughter and giggling.

She called me 'Spice Lee' and I called her 'Ernest.'
We had our own language and our own world.  If one of us looked down and said to the other, "Nice shoes"* that meant we were bored and needed to find an excuse to leave wherever we were.

*This came from a lecture we were giving and the crowd was, let's say, 'less intellectual' than we expected and standing at the podium we started talking about our shoes. Yes, we kept answering questions from the audience but the shoes were more interesting than anything they were saying.

Sometimes our communication didn't involve spoken words. Whenever I travelled I would write her letters and notes that I'd forget to send, I didn't need to.

Our relationship was so intimate that sometimes I couldn't tell if I was talking to her or myself. She'd say we had 'residual intimacy' from another time. Whatever it was, everybody saw it and loved it. People often looked at us and sighed, saying they wish they had a friend like that. A friendship that made our hearts laugh and sing.

Of course, many people misinterpreted who and what we were to each other, but we especially loved that too.


Scorpio's are very private and we love secrets.  So the less people got it, the more fun it was. (...and the more outrageous) .

We were each other's biggest supporters, always pushing the other to do more and helping each other through the disappointments in life.

Guitar SHeros
We didn't agree on everything and would have great fights. We'd stop speaking to each other for as long as we could take it, but eventually one of us would always break down and call. Then we'd pick up were we left off, as if no time had passed.






Our fights with each other were expected, but heaven help anyone else who came for us. Everyone knew there was a line that was not to be crossed when it came to our friendship.  We would defend each other to the end. More angered by someone insulting the other, than by being personally attacked.

That love and support is what will get me through the difficulty of saying goodbye, for now.



To Ernest,

                 Much and More.
                                             Love,
                                                         Spice

Saturday, February 18, 2012

An Apology to Whitney Houston






We all owe Whitney Houston an apology


An apology for enjoying her suffering. 
An apology for laughing at her struggle. 
An apology for dismissing her pain. 
An apology for writing her off as a has been, booing her off stage.
An apology for ignoring her need for help.
An apology for watching her implode on reality tv, waiting for the fatal overdose finale, and when it didn't happen on air, loosing interest.
An apology for not publicly denouncing Bravo for airing "Being Bobby Brown."
An apology for not being able to accept her as she really was: Black, Gay and Beautiful. (Yeah I said it)



An apology for demanding she be who WE wanted her to be.

We've all failed Whitney Houston.

And though it may be too late, we still owe Whitney an apology.
So here it is: 

I'm sorry Whitney that we weren't there for you.
I'm sorry Whitney that we seemed to enjoy your fall.
I'm sorry Whitney that we acted as if you deserved your pain.
I'm sorry Whitney that we didn't give you love and support in your time of need.
I'm sorry Whitney that we couldn't give back to you a little of the joy and happiness you gave to all of us.
I'm sorry Whitney that we didn't know how to love you.

Forgive us Whitney and rest in peace, finally...
                                                                                            

Sunday, December 18, 2011

COLOMBIA, South America: Quibdo, Choco Day 5




We Love Choco! There's a very real and peaceful spirit here. We decide to go for a walk after breakfast...

The Afro-American Bank is new. It was started because Black people were being discriminated against by the major banks. The same story: they wouldn't finance loans, help business or treat the people with dignity and respect. It touches me that this is the reasons why Anthony Overton and Jessie Binga started Black banks in the 1920's

Helping hands of the bank
This woman had no idea how beautiful she
was to us. She thought we wanted to take
her picture to laugh at her.



Liliana and Kidist

We walk thru the town down to where 3 rivers meet. The sky is so beautiful here.






We see Liliana and she decides to go with us to the waterfront market. Passing the boats everyone says I should go for a ride but they are a bit too small for my comfort--so I decline.


I'd rather walk around the market and people watch.

The market is wonderful! Great sights, smells and tastes. There are so many new and exciting fruits... and they love to juice everything. This would be a great place to do a all juice diet. You'd never run out of new flavors and delicious old ones.


Freshly caught catfish.
Since I don't eat meat I can't speak to that, but the fish is definitely FRESH. 


Drying cocoa beans.
Smells great, tastes bitter.
Susy in what I called her
"model on location" poise.
It feels so comfortable here, more like family than stranger. Even though I didn't speak the language I felt very connected.  Cousins I'd never met or knew existed but having parents who were siblings, we both understood what the other had been thru and there is laughter at the instant recognition of self. 

Now I REALLY want to learn Spanish. Before it was more lip service, but now I need to talk to my long lost cousins cause we have so much to enjoy about the other.


The indigenous people have been
abandoned, as they have everywhere.

We have to leave for the hotel and pack. There's a call to tell us that the Governor wants to stop by and meet us before we go. Wow, the Governor! Unfortunately he didn't get there before we left. We couldn't wait because we'd already spent an extra day there and I had to do a tv appearance for the Embassy in Bogata. Oh well, next time--I'm just honored he wanted to meet.


At the airport we have all kinds of scheduling problems but we get it sorted out and finally get thru security. Suddenly large soldiers with BIG guns come into the waiting area and ask for "Barbara Allen!" Gulp. Is this the part where I get kidnapped. Maybe I just shouldn't say anything...but my kid is there and I can't let them take her.  Ok, ok, I confess, I'm Barbara Allen.  The soldiers turn to me and say, "The Governor is here to see you."  WTF!


How cool is that? Not as cool as it was going to get. We get up to go meet the Governor, expecting a pudgy, balding, middle aged man but instead there was Governor Malcolm Ali!

Malcolm Ali,
The Governor of Choco!
Holy cow! He was gorgeous, intelligent, passionate and only 29 years old.  He'd been elected 8 months earlier and the people were worried that he was too young, but he's made such a difference that nobody is concerned with his age anymore.

And what a name--MALCOLM ALI. His parents must have known he was going to be a great man...


The Girlz with the Governor;-)

Now we hate to leave Choco even more. The Gov apologizes for not being able to accompany us to Bogota for the closing of the festival but there are elections on Sunday (not for his seat) and he has to supervise.



The River

Good bye Choco! We'll be back and we'll bring more cousins with us.