Nothing like a little ac/dc to start you up in the morning.
You get that if you remembered to click the "Dear America"; remember, everyday is like a prize in the cereal., you gotta click it to see what you get...
Why Back in Black, you say?
Well funny you should ask, I just keep having this meddling feeling... what would happen if faced with having the choice of two "African-American" profiles to pick from, as in for the presidency? How would that look? Would it be possible for the American community of people with color to vote for the conservative?
I see it like this, we're just now coming of age where there will be many people of color, on both sides of the proverbial fence, to choose from. We are maturing into the reality of all people, of all back grounds, having had equal opportunity under the law to get an education and become actively involved with the policy making of this great country; whether it be the inner city or suburbs, local or nationwide, the accessibility is there and we are seeing it come to fruition right before our very eyes.
With knowing and recognizing the political tapestry changing to incorporate broader issues, as well as lobbying done on a specific scope, to more particular groups and needs, there has never been a more opportune time for minorities to find their place in government. I mean, look at us now!
Does it not say to all of the world that these times are a changin', or what?
One thing I am so tired of in all the political rhetoric back and forth, back on black, is the using of the race card -- democrats and republicans, clubs or spades, kings and queens. Why do we stoop so low as to allow the person's color to influence our decision at all?
I want the best possible person for the job. Is that being a racist now?
I want, whether black or white or brown, that person, to be of the highest value to fill the position, and I will in turn give that person my utmost respect, loyalty and support.
So what would happen with a Barack Obama against a J.C. Watts or a Michael Steele? How would the "African-American" community deal with that and more importantly, would it be fair for me to wonder if it would be a more accurate assessment of how many within that minority swing liberal or conservative?
Because you can't tell me there simply ain't none; you can't tell me some black mamas and papas don't believe some of the very things I believe in; I just won't have any of that. I know they are there.
And just a couple of days after I wrote the blog on just being called "Americans" I got myself a stunning confirmation. It just so happened this black woman, appearing along side a room of mom's on the Glenn Beck Show (9/28/09) had this to say, from Mary Baker, "I no longer want to be called an "African-American, I want to be an AMERICAN." God bless you, Mary.
You know, she home schools all seven of her children and was one of a very vocal audience who was down right and forthright in making it very clear that government needs to step aside in more ways than one. It was a victory of mama's coming together, no matter the color of their skin, discussing openly and honestly and lovingly with one another all the ways we need to get back to basics, back on black and white decisions -- no stinkin' grey -- in matters that matter.
There are black people like me; Americans who feel the same as me, and that makes my heart sing.
There are black people like me; Americans who agree with the idea less is more, and that big government needs to get out of the way.
There are black people like me; Americans who believe that big government is the root of all evil, blaming the government for stifling our independence, wealth, and growth.
There are black people like me; Americans who believe the Almighty God is the cornerstone of America's true prosperity and success; and without which we will hasten to fall into a valley of civic unrest, morally challenged to not only becoming our very best, but also in creating an honorable community of people.
When I was about five, the story goes that we were living in Norfolk, VA as my papa was stationed there in the Navy. There was this lady who intrigued me; a black woman and waitress. I said to my mama I wanted to grow up to be just like her, to which mama said, "you wanna be a waitress?" and I replied with, "no, I wanna be just like her, black".
Well, as luck would have it, I am just like her.
We are all connected in this great big world in which we live...while it's getting smaller by the minute. We just have to learn how to concentrate on what connects us, instead of what divides. How can we increase the dialogue with a higher level of listening to the keys that bind, instead of the old tune of what simply tears us apart?
As a wise patina of a woman (I think I just aged myself, beautifully of course), I declare that if we can be of witness to a room full of mama's coming together, in hopes of stirring the political pot before it boils over, in a compassionate effort to find ways to connect and transcend the prevailing wind of a stew gone wrong, we can reach a new level of epicurean delight for all families to come to the table and partake.
The Last Supper, a moment of great magnitude, a symbol of the corruption within the body of the Apostles surrounding Jesus, was a moment wrought with back stabbing, a merciless betrayal in Judas, and forever marks the end of an era -- when Jesus walked upon this earth.
I painted along the ceiling in my dining room a phrase, choosing also an Italian translation (comes out prettier and I happen to be in love with an Italian x), and it goes like this,
"Puo ritenere come buon venerdi, ma domenica sta venedo! E una vita bella!
In other words,
"It may feel like Good Friday, but Sunday's coming! It's a beautiful life!"
One of the overriding messages from Beck's day with the mama's came in this little tidbit, "we want our kids back" -- and in fundamental unity pronounced, America is God inspired, and we want God back, too.
How dare our government even make an attempt to create a world for our children calling not only attention to what divides us, but indoctrinating the very ideas and principles that go against the holding tight to our culture that true Americans (black and white and brown) want to be -- and must be in order to survive.
The mama's were not afraid to come together under God, nor were they unwilling to budge from their convictions. SO,
I would be afraid.
We're back; mama's in black, and white, and brown, and perhaps a few pink polka dots.
Make it a Good Day, G