Coping

A blessing in the form of a job related emergency allowed me to visit my family and friends in New York and New Jersey...One full day....in and out.

I stepped off the plane, checked my messages....My Grandmother who has been like a mother to me is in the hospital and has been since Wednesday. I could not have found out at a better time. My family is learning to respect my emotional limitations and my being 3,000 miles away from an emergency which involves my favorite person in the world is Numero Uno on the list of causing me to have a neurological breakdown. Hearing and not seeing makes things a hundred times worse. I was able to get the message and then go see for myself....the situation at hand. She's 92 years old and anytime I tell the age to people whose Grandmother's were distant old Grandmother's not second mother's like mine, they look at me like I'm crazy for being so distraught instead of being grateful she's been healthy and great up until now.....Screw all of that. I don't care if she's 115 years old.....she is the love of my life. I have found my own strength through the strength of this wonderful woman......Minnie Pearl. And now I have to figure out how to be strong for her.

I spent my Saturday bedside by one of the greatest women to ever grace earth. Basking in the glow of my beloved Great-Grandma who I lived with for fourteen years. And who I've been told must officially go to a nursing home..this woman who is completely aware of her situation and horrified at the thought of never going home again....and with this news my spirit has forever changed and I'm just working on keeping a positive appreciation for this gift of life and all it's glory while really feeling like jumping off a cliff.

I am finishing up the book "The Red Tent, in this life-saving great read, the daughter and narrator of the book makes a comment about being grateful for not being around to witness the pain, suffering and passing of her mother, aunts and all her loved ones. She missed them terribly, she worried and felt guilty for not being there to offer help and support but....still grateful for not being around to witness the agony and pain.

One word......AMEN!!!!!!!

I have moments where I feel like I should move back to New Jersey to make sure my Grandma is as comfortable as possible seeing as how her worse nightmare is coming true....to be poked at and prodded in a nursing home until the end of her days( the horror)......I should be there to make sure her hair stays clean and beautiful and to make sure her beautiful skin stays soft and supple through the loving application of pure Karite Shea butter and to make sure her nails stay trimmed and filed. She has a few dozen grandchildren and great-grands who live in the area and go to visit...but I am the self-ordained favorite and these thoughts plague me, though this may be one mission I fail because......I can't take it. When I look into my beloved Grandma's eyes, I can see her frustration and embarrasment at her condition.......that she will never cook another meal on this earth, or care for another child or sit with her favorite Grandaughter and enjoy the Fisherman's seafood platter (her favorite) at Red Lobster or just pick up a piece of f%*&in' paper off the ground (she mentioned the paper to me herself) .....it breaks my heart in to five billion llittle pieces and the despair becomes to much for me to handle. I can't even believe I'm able to write about it like this, but I also feel I must or else I will turn into dust and crumble to the ground.

It seems human suffering and tragedy are hitting home like a tornado leaving sad and defeated bodies piled up all around and all I can manage to do is escape to Los Angeles where denial IS a river in egypt and in LA and I intend to jump in head first...where I'll probably suffer a concussion because we all know how shallow the river of denial is although my tears might help deepen it....some of the best advice I ever got...came from my friend Luis.....it's okay to cry, sometimes we just need to.....AMEN....and I'm okay with it...so I've taken to crying whenever and wherever....in the cab, on the plane while ordering coffee from the flight attendant, in the office, at the laundromat, at the post office....wherever...it feels damn good. It's the holding it in that hurts.

This move to the west, though emotionally, physically and financially taxing as hell, has saved my life and I'm working so hard to hold on the the reality of how "Living Life" can really save one's life. The people I've met...bad and good, fun and boring have all helped me.....and I, like Dinah, in "The Red Tent", am grateful.

But I still have my moments. Sad moments where I think of somehow rigging a knife so that I might collapse on it and split my pained heart in two. Yes, like that. Thank the big God of little fishes that these are MOMENTS....and they pass. And then I get up and get out and go live the life I've been blessed with instead of living in a constant state of life threatening despair over things I can't control.

Writing helps.....it really does....but reality is harsh....it really is.

Thank God for great memories, moments, photos and recording devices of all kinds.

Things I pondered.....

while suffering for two weeks with no computer or television in my home..


Why do some people's second toe and second to last toe grow above the other toes and some don't?

How many pieces of paper does one get from your average tree?

That new ad for Black Cherry Coca-Cola......."Black Cherry kissed by Vanilla".......a bit risque...no?

What's the deal with my tongue? It takes some serious concentration to keep it completely still while looking at it. Is that me or everyone?

Did Chevy Chase rename himself after the city in Maryland or vice-versa?

Who created soap? And how did they decide those were the correct ingredients to clean a human body?

All men (and women) are not really created equal because ........God bless the person who took the initiative to create indoor plumbing.....seriously.

Rejoice....

If the rumors are true that Bobby Brown feels his career is boosted enough for him to leave his Provider aka Wife aka Whitney Houston. It's her and her daughter's only chance at a happy ending. I am revisiting an old post from when that stupid show first aired......

Originally posted 7/17/2005...

Desperate Jackass forces prideful lioness wife to air business for the sake of peace and harmony on the homefront.....the new name for "Being Bobby Brown".
I have not seen the show and am actively avoiding seeing it. I've seen it all before. Dysfunctional obsessive love for being in a dysfunctional obsessive love. I've heard enough and read enough about it to last me a lifetime. I may have even been in a few....short-lived....

Let me start by saying..my love and adoration for Whitney Houston spans two decades and up until this moment I have exercised my right to remain silent on her personal life. Because........

1. Is it really my business (although I kinda feel like it is, but not in a star gossipy way, more of a concerned cousin kind of way.)

and

2. Is it really your business

But now that she has signed a contract for all the world to see, I am officially prepared to release a statement.

My heart breaks for what I see when I look at this life Whitney Houston has been fooled into living.

What Whitney as performer has done for me...1987...was the first year I saw Whitney live and it was my first "Hey this is the greatest singer I've ever heard". I was gone. Completely won over and on my way to being the biggest Whitney fan of all times...I really am....I'm not trying to prove it...it is what it is. Framed photos of Whitney are on my walls (plural) Unconditional fan. I'm sure I am here (meaning alive and thriving) because of my love for Whitney Houston...Kept a depressed suicidal 15 year old girl preoccupied...guided me to Arista Records as an intern and from there begins my crazy life in the world of entertainment. I am working in the entertainment industry right now because I wanted to work at Whitney's record label.

We're talking about 1991.....I was brizzzzzoke (broke) out of my mind....half working, half going to school, half just figuring out where I wanted to be in the world and what kind of person I wanted to be (a decision more people should spend time on.) Owned a raggedy ass 1987 mitsubishi mirage. It looked nice enough but man....don't sit still in traffic....the fumes were out of control...but it got me all around New Jersey and New York, in to and out of all kinds of mischief...more importantly it got my ass to Hershey, Pennsylvania to see my favorite singer/entertainer.

To this day, I have not felt the kind of thrill I felt at this concert. My cousin(invited herself) and friend(fellow Whitney fan) came along...My friend's financial situation was worse than mine....I with my no money havin' yet determined self..wound up paying for her as well. But my cousin...God Bless her.....had some dough and God Bless her again...I'll never forget what she did for me and my friend....Paid the extra cash for second row center seats....We would've been sitting on the lawn....instead....a scalper came to us...I had not one extra cent (had to make sure I had gas money home) My cousin paid for me and my friend. She barely knew my friend. I actually need to drop my cousin a note and some photos from that day....over 14 years ago...One of the best days of my life....not to mention how we spent the day in Hershey Park, met Whitney's dancers and her brother, hung out with them for a little bit and kept it movin' and I won a huge stuffed animal. Security thought I was bringing it for Whitney, wrong, that was for my Great-Grandma. It was Babs Bunny and she is still in my Great-Grandma's room, right now in the year 2005 thank you very much...If I had given it to Whitney, Bobby would have thrown it out of a window in some angry fit.
Waited for hours outside her tour bus....the crew kept telling me she had left...I mean the woman who played piano in the band tried to tell me Whitney had already left....yeah right....I waited and waited...backed down a one way street in the smoke-mobile and my poor cousin and friend had no choice but to wait with me..My cousin started to complain...I turned a deaf ear to her and walked closer to Whitney's tour bus.....and guess what.....after hours...Whitney was tired and I'm sure not in the mood...I asked "Whitney will you take a picture with me?" she stopped, her security stopped, she turned to look at me....studied my face for a moment (I guess saw the painful desperation and took pity on me ) walked away from her security and towards me...."Okay, baby come on" as she stretched her arm out to me.....GOOD GUGAMOOGA....I could've died right then...
Yeah baby, I have too many "Oh my God I just met Whitney" moments.....I'll share later..if it comes up. All this to say I was a huge fan, And still a huge fan , except I'm older and I have more of an indepth understanding for life..its fulfillment and its disappointments and how this might affect an "individual".

Whitney the "individual" not "entity" is what I see and have seen and every time I see her now...My heart breaks a little more. I wish I could carry the addictions for this woman....kick them for her and allow her to regain the light she has allowed her "betrothed" to smother out. Seriously...

Bobby Brown is obsessed with fame and stuck in a nostalgic box of memories of his former fame.....he is failing, has failed, at his current career, which is father and husband and being a grown ass man.....It's a job and he is not on it...when someone fails at his or her job what usually follows is his being fired. Fire that fool. I wish an angel would come to Whitney in the night pack her and Bobbi Kristina's belongings....move them, while they remain asleep, out of GEORGIA (I will address my contempt for this place at another time) and either back to some remote town in New Jersey or California or Florida.....or out of the damn country. And somehow magically keep Bobby Brown held captive in the house they once shared (like the ghosts in beetlejuice).....Just leave the whole scene behind and focus on her daughter and kicking her addictions...one being addicted to her husband...addicted to chaos and aggravation. I understand those addictions and I also understand the only way to kick them is to put some space between yourself and whoever or whatever you're addicted to....It's impossible to kick something when it's staring you right in the face. Remove yourself from the situation and take the blinding goggles off so you can see how crazy things really are.

Every time I see Bobby Brown shucking and jiving for the camera (other places, not "his" new show) I'm reminded of a scene in The Five Heartbeats when the washed up ego maniac of a drug addict ex-lead singer shows up..all beat down.....talking about TA-DA...donning an old shirt from one of their performances.....Pitiful.
Bobby Brown was never, will never, has never been the King of R&B. If he's the King in the Houston-Brown household so be it...but give the rest of the world a break. And please give me a break. I can't take it. I get it. I totally understand it. But I can't take it.

Instead of being grateful for the life and wealth Whitney has provided him with he's mad about it. Trying to make her believe something's wrong with her cause' he's the man. Classic scene. Except this one is on a more public scale.....Some of the best advice I've ever heard was in Forrest Gump (I love this movie and will refer to it many more times)....Some kids were coming to harrass Little Forrest....His best friend Jenny, yelled "Run, Forrest, Run"....to my Whitney I give similar advice..."Run Whitney, Run." and take that little girl with you. It's not to late. Look at Tina Turner, she ran, late, but better late than never. You can still live the great life God planned for you and get out of the life the Devil tricked you into believing you were supposed to live.



P.S....when I say unconditional fan...I have met Whitney when she's not in the greatest of moods....and got my feelings hurt a little but I've also met her at her best and she treated me wonderfully.....everyone has a bad day...Rich, broke, star, unknown whatever and we all get burned by someone in a bad mood....from a Judge who had an argument with his wife before coming to work...to a doctor who's not feeling too well but still performing an operation....to the guy in charge of french fries at the fast food restaurant and lastly a celebrity....I'd rather fall victim to a cranky celebrity than a cranky judge deciding my fate or some angry french fry guy dropping fries on the floor or throwing gross objects into the fryer with my fries.

And don't get it twisted....back in the day..Loved me some Bobby Brown....My Prerogative and Every Little Step...what....he was a dancing and entertaining fool.....turned ego maniac....the young R&B girls have Usher now Bobby, hang up your dancing shoes and feel pleased about making room for the next generation of dancing fools....and either love her or leave her....don't stick around hating on her....

Houston he has a problem....

Bobby Brown is to Whitney Houston what the moon is to a werewolf.....a terrible influence.










What a fool believes he sees, no wise man has the power to reason away.

-WHAT A FOOL BELIEVES (written by Michael McDonald & Kenny Loggins) performed by the Doobie Brothers..

Which Doobie you be??????

Welcome to JamRock

My computer has crashed and burned....Not good timing in my financial world...so I'm straight blogging from the Apple Store. I have to make this quick because I feel like all these sprocket like apple sales people are staring at me.

I had to post about one of my newest musical loves.....Damian Marley. Wow. WELCOME TO JAMROCK is the name....something for everyone is the game. I can listen to this guys entire album without skipping a single song...that is an amazing feat in itself, as I love Bob Marley's music but I'm not really the banging Reggae fan. Seriously...this guy is really doing the Marley name justice and he's quite the good-looking chap as well. My favorites.....Welcome to Jamrock and Beautiful ( featuring Bobby Brown). Even with it featuring the man who holds my dear Whitney captive....love it..and I mean love it and hope to receive the sentiment in Beautiful from someone one day.....how nice that would be.

He's got a great song called Move! Samples Exodus. And my friend who gave me the heads up to pick up this great CD, thought homeboy was saying Pixie dust...Instead of Exodus....Oh my God...Becky! She was steady singing and I asked her what she just said and she repeated herself loud and clear....Pixie dust. I'll give her half a break as this is the same friend who back in the early 80's thought Jermaine Jackson's song...Tell Me I'm Not Dreaming.....was more about sewing...."Cutting out my trimming" was her version.....but I will leave her nameless because of the Pixie and Exo.....Dus.....t incident. People have to be given the space to come into enlightenment on their own. I have to remember to ask her what the hell she thought Pixiedust was about. Movement of Jah's people to Never never land maybe?

Every song on this beautiful Welcome to Jamrock, is great in it's own. And I mean music, lyrics a whole package deal of depth and pleasure. Okay Security just moved closer to me. I have to stop because I'm too paranoid to enjoy this blogging moment. How nice would it be to be able to purchase one of these lovely Powerbooks today. Oh well...the sacrifices I make for following my bliss.....this is one of them.


Check out Damian Marley's new cd....He's even got a cut with Nas....how lovely.

Must go. Can't take the glares.