Africa...

On the shores of a small remote island off the coast of Zanzibar in the middle of the Indian Ocean I bathed my soul in the warmest waters my skin had ever felt. Tepid, like a Saturday night bubble bath, I splashed happily around the crystal clear shallow waters. Here, in this open body of liquid tranquility the personification of my baptized spirit began to manifest itself in my thoughts. My mind, my body and my soul began to converse with one another about the transformation of my spirit in this strange, yet oddly familiar land. It was at that precise moment it became clear to me this would be a vacation like no other. As I began to ponder what lie ahead for me on this journey I heard a handsome African man whisper over the breeze..."welcome home Queen." I had become one with Mama Africa and in an instant my subconscious and conscious mind began to operate in tandem. Singing a chorus for my soul. One that I did not know it yearned to hear. They told me I was home despite never having laid a foot on this land. How could this comfort of knowing become second nature to my thought process absent of practice or learning? How did the food, the people, the history, the culture all become an instant part of my kinetic being? We were one without all the formalities of getting acquainted with one another. Here I stood in the mist of all that was known and unknown. Here is where I discovered that I too had a history.

Ode To Love...

Ode To Love...

You are mine and I am yours. There is a place in my heart that only you will dwell. Forever embedded in my soul, you have imprinted your spirit on me. My subconscious tells me that we have shared  a thousand lifetimes. Our spirits will dance together across the universe. The moon and the stars will be our connection until we meet again.

Beautiful Chocolate Man

Beautiful Chocolate Man

Beautiful silky smooth chocolate man.

Standing like an African King on the golden sand.

Piercing deeply through the crusted layers of my soul.

Unearthing the copious details of buried stories untold.

Ubiquitously you traverse my most intimate thoughts.

Pursuant of my love like the most treasured prize sought.

Your gentle smile radiates warmth and energy.

So breathless and impatiently I await our next meeting.

Firey conversations on culture and politics arouse my intellect.

Yet your claming spirit is pure and innocent.

Daydreams of infinite possibilities mixed with blissful tranquility.

Humbleness and love for your family shows your deep humility.

I come, I go, I come again.

Nights turn into days that turn into nights I never want to end.

Each time I leave I feel torn within.

I have met a man who has become my friend.

Beautiful silky smooth chocolate man.

Standing like an African King on the golden sand.

Michelle C. Clark

May 10, 2016

Lake Effect on Lake Michigan

Once a year go someplace you've never been before. I've seen this on social media memes, t-shirts and even a spiral notebook that I take notes in and write my plans to take over the world. I have always been a lover of travel periodicals and an unofficial student of the geography of mother earth. Yes, there are a ton of places on my bucket list that are mapped out across the globe. Yet, there are beautiful landscapes and adventure state side. More specifically, in the state of Michigan. My home state.

It still amazes me sometimes that I have lived in this state my entire life and had never set sights on Lake Michigan from the shores of Michigan. Yet here I was at work 3 nights before the 4th of July holiday planning a last minute excursion for favorite son and myself. Somewhere along the way I managed to entice a friend and her son to accompany us on our  last minute venture out west.

GO WEST DIVA

So of course booking anything 3 days prior to the holiday is going to be next to impossible, but I'm Chelle Possible. Giving up is never an option. I sat on my computer half the night trying to figure out which west coast town I wanted to visit. One of my coworkers saw my dilemma and offered what turned out to be some very helpful advice. He suggested we check out Grand Haven, Michigan. Since I had no idea which beach town to hit I took his advice. I'm so glad I did. It's a quaint little town on the eastern shores of Lake Michigan. The beaches on the western side of the state rival anything in Florida during the summer months. The lighthouse and pier served as inspiration to my son who is a brilliant artist. We did a short trip up to the Silver Lake Sand Dunes where we took the Mac Woods Dune Buggy Ride excursion. I had no idea how awesome sand dunes were, much less how close they were to the metro Detroit area.

We enjoyed the sand dunes, the beauty of the beach and nicety of small town America. The quaint shops and friendly restaurants and cafes make you feel like a local. Grand Haven won me over. I can't wait to get back to that side of the state again this summer. Once a year go somewhere you've never been before. It doesn't have to be on the other side of the world. It can be in your own backyard. For me that place that brought about a new adventure with new experiences was Grand Haven, Michigan.

 

Dinner & Diva's

During the course of my often hectic work schedule I try to eke out a little time to break bread with the women I refer to as #Divas. My support system of sorts, these are the women whom over the years I have grown fond of. The women I enjoy spending my most precious resource on, time. Since I have dubbed myself the unofficial Sunny Anderson of the group I'm usually on hosting duties. It's always fun for me to develop menus with unheard of recipes that once scanning the ingredients list you know the combination will yield scrumptious results. Everyone brings a bottle of whatever libation we've agreed on to get the merriment going and of course keep the head Chef happy.

Despite my downsizing to a townhouse with a smaller kitchen we still find ourselves all huddled together there laughing about whatever topic has bulldozed the conversation. My friends become sous chefs starring in my personal epicurean episode. Chopping, dicing, mixing and peeling we work together. It's a combination of Parts Unknown and Down Home with the Neelys as many of the dishes I make are often new to us, but manage to get that familiar feeling.

During this time we share stories, laugh, solicit advice, encourage, motivate and debate everything from politics to love. It's an eclectic mix of conversation and thought. I appreciated the ease and frankness of our discussions. I appreciate what I take away from each of our encounters. I am often reminded that time moves at a pace no human being is prepared for and that I need to slow down. That these are the relationships I want to maintain as I navigate this journey called life. I find solace in this sisterhood of support and kinship. I am a better woman for it.

THE BREAKFAST CLUB

Sitting on the porch for what seems like the first comfortable morning in weeks, I find myself sufficiently amused by the early morning breeze rustling the leaves of our cheap city planted trees. I know it’s probably an exaggeration to say this, but it feels like I have been trapped in the comforts of air conditioning for a lifetime. A self imposed imprisonment of sorts.  So patiently, I waited to come out to enjoy the gentle sunshine and temperate climate of a true Michigan summer morning.

The stillness of morning eases my soul, while gently (relaxing) my mind.  A bird sings his tranquil soliloquy perched on a distant branch.  Squirrels play tag as a car cruises by with neighbors on their way to church to offer praises. I silently whisper…’pray for me.’  Two houses down Ms. Pearl works on her award winning flower bed, vibrant with color and fragrance. The bees make sure to stop by here to pay homage for her efforts. These are the kind of mornings that I yearn for. These moments of peace that often elude us as urban dwellers.

As I settle into my favorite spot on the front porch, my neighbors began to awake one by one from their various forms of slumber to enjoy these early morning hours.  It is during this time that the true “Breakfast Club” meets to discuss the politics of the neighborhood and the social mores of its residents. We carefully exam the complexities of our world, absent of the issues that affect the city as whole. We choose to dissect our small section of the city one juicy issue at a time.  We remember those who have gone on as well as those who have moved on. We use this time to tell stories about the greatness once held by our neighborhood and the glory of days to come. We plan, we dream, we talk, we gossip and we believe. We use this time to plan our methods of holding on to what we have all worked so hard to maintain.

These early morning moments bring about a rebirth of ideas.  Cool and refreshing as the dew dripping off my windows, the newness of this day ushers in hope of all things possible.  Then out of nothingness that perfect moment is abruptly interrupted by the randomness of rapid gunfire. It feels like out of nowhere our Breakfast Club has been dropped into an active war zone. Only the enemies are unknown and the battle is not quite defined.  We look at each other with disgust, then a keen sense of fear feels the air, as we know bullets travel. So one by one we retreat into our homes to an unproven sense of safety.  Within that moment many of us are now alone, afraid, disconnected, disgusted ready to flee at the first opportunity.  We cringe, because deep down we know our city is being preyed upon by urban terrorist. A group of fatherless sons and daughters who roam in a purple haze of dissolution. No goal. No direction. No hope. Just a clear objective of terror, thievery and destruction. Finally, as I surrender behind closed doors and drawn shades I wonder quietly to myself, what are we missing? How have we failed our future?

The Art of Joy

I can remember back when my grandmother would slave in the kitchen all night long so that her family could savor the flavor of her soulful talents.  Many meals I cook today are an ode to her greatness as a self taught gourmet of food for the soul.  As I think fondly of the countless holidays she cooked for us, I am reminded that the most important memory is the time we spent together as a family. Many jokes were told and stories shared around the dinning room table of Catherine Dorothy Deramus Cast or simply Mudea. Over these meals the history of our family was handed down from one generation to the unknowing next.

I think my love of cooking and entertaining began to manifest itself when favorite daughter and favorite son were toddlers. Looking back, I see how I progressed to organizing some pretty awesome themed birthday parties at home. I miss a lot of the fanfare associated with those days. The excessive amount of decorations. The need to find all things "Power Puff Girls."  The over the top goodies bags. Even adults loved the parties I organized for my kids. Absolutely nothing screams "C-E-L-E-B-R-A-T-E" like a ceiling full of colorful balloons from a rented helium tank.  All this for the birthday party of a 6 year old....on a Monday night. 

As I have gotten older I now understand that from these gatherings memories are made. Stories are formed. Traditions and history are passed on.  As we break bread for holidays,  birthdays, graduations, baby showers and weddings we begin to add our patch to the growing patchwork that represents our family and friends.

Time is always moving, forever changing the things and people around us. So it is important to take those snap shots of our experiences and marinate on them so that they are ingrained in our soul. What I have and will continue to cherish are those holidays and birthdays spent around my Mudea's dinning room table and the lofty aromas that floated through the air.

Getting Back To Basics....

I'm always stuck on what to write about and for that reason I have not been on my blog for a while. One of my Sorors suggested I write about something that makes me happy. That I should write about things I like. My writings should in fact incorporate those things that interest me. All common sense approaches to writer's block. That sounds good on the surface, but what do you do when so many things interest you??? I love cooking, fashion, politics, spirits and travel. How does one reel in their need to obsess on so many different subjects???

I read a post on Facebook today that said in a nutshell if you want to become a better writer you must write all the time. Write even when you are not inspired to do so. Write when you have nothing in particular to write about. Write. Write. Write. So with that said I'd like to write about some of the meals I've cooked. Menu's I've created for family and friends. The craziness of holidays and all the cooking I love to do.  Perhaps along the way if I'm lucky I can learn a few things from the readers. 

Think of this as an interactive blog that allows for the sharing of ideas on whatever topic is up for discussion. Many will cover food, some will cover love, a few will cover libations and on occasion some good old fashion down and dirty Detroit politics. You can't have a blog without at least one city government post.

So with that being said, let the proverbial creative juices flow. 

An Ode To Mother's...

Happy Mother's Day to all the women who make it look so effortless. To the women who push through despite often times running on empty themselves. Happy Mother's Day to the women who step in the gap for those children in need of love and nurturing. Happy Mother's Day to the Grandmother raising her grandbabies. To the Aunt who stepped up to ensure the perpetuity of her lineage. Happy Mother's Day to women who welcome children without anyone to love them in their homes. Happy Mother's Day to all the Mother's of the world.

Happy Mother's Day to the women who stand on their porches preaching to the children in their neighborhoods to always stand on the side of goodness and virtue. The women who work as aides in the schools and hand out hugs when no one else will. To the women who raised other women's children as if they were their own, with no difference. Happy Mother's Day to all the wonderful women in my family, my friends and my neighbors that helped my children and I make it through. Knowing that no one person can or should walk this journey alone. My heart is filled with joy to know that God has blessed me and mines with some the most dynamic women in the world. HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!!! 

To Text Or Not To Text, That Is The Question...

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again and again. Whatever happened to one on one conversation? Even if they’re on the phone, there’s nothing better than directly interacting with the person you are communicating with. The meaning of your message can be conveyed and understood. The emotion behind your conversation can be felt. Text messages comprised of short phrases, run on sentences, numbers in place of words and letters does not give meaning to the underlying feeling behind the conversation. In many instances text messages can confuse the receiver as to what exactly you are trying to say. In this age of wireless this and social media that we have forgotten how to interact with each other in an intimate one on one setting. Technology has given rise to the basic art of communicating. It’s as if we have convinced ourselves that human interaction is not necessary for our emotional well being. Somehow we believe that we can fulfill that basic human need with a quick text, IM, facebook comment or even a quick e mail.   

I am trying to get out of the habit of letting text messages speak for me.  To no longer let text messages take the place of me putting forth an effort to touch and be touched by those I am trying to communicate with. To get back to the basics of looking someone in the eyes when I am speaking and listening to them. When you are speaking with someone face to face your filters are able to discern the bullshit from the truth. Many times we can be tricked by a savvy text messenger. However, when that same person is force to communicate one on one they fell miserably. They are no longer able to hide behind simple keystrokes.

So I would say the answer is to text when necessary, i.e. in a crowd or unknown company, but to call or make face to face interaction as much as possible. There is nothing more personable than one on one conversation.  

The Michelle C. Clark School For People Who Don't Read So Good....

Since Mayor Bings’ press conference I have asked the same question over and over again. How did we come to this? How did my beloved city come to be in financial ruins? Why did no one see this coming? What is the role of our finance manager? Why weren’t the citizens of  Detroit informed sooner how dire the situation was? Where is the leadership? The more I thought about it, the more questions I had. The  more questions I had that could not be answered the more frustrated I became.

Then it got me to thinking about two things, Detroit voting patterns and the cities illiteracy rate. As student of economic studies I am always looking at the correlation between two things, i.e. the cause and effect. How do things relate to one another, the parallelism, interdependence, interconnection, the interrelationship between two subjects and what effect if any they may have on one another.

There seems to be an obvious relationship between how voters select candidates for city government and the illiteracy rate. There has to be. This is the only thing that would explain our inability to elect competent leadership in our city. If your level of comprehension is hovering around the 4^th grade level how can you be expected to understand the complex issues that our city faces?  How can you see pass the smoke and mirrors to get to the meat of the issues our city faces? How do you know what questions to ask when you receive literature if you do not understand nor comprehend what you are reading?

I truly believe this is the reason that candidates win on name recognition alone. If your last name has been floating around the media for years because of your parents you can win votes. If you are seen on television a lot you can win. If your name is out here and visible, whether you have a platform or not you can win in the city of Detroit. They are far too many illiterate people voting for illiterate people. The cycle of ignorance manifests itself at the highest levels of city government.

I am not saying we should invoke some sort of competency exam for your right to vote. What I am saying is that we really need to look harder at ways to educate the citizens of Detroit on the issues, government and civic duty. There needs to be a grass root effort to make sure all citizens can read with comprehension. That every citizen that wants to be educated can be no matter what their age or social standing is. We have got to find ways to implement learning back into our community. We have to get serious about bring our citizens up to speed with the rest of the region. We need to educate people not only on issues the people of Detroit face, but statewide issues that affect Detroit citizens as well.

It was great that many of us voted for President Barak Obama, but as I’ve said before Governor Snyder and Mayor Bing will have more of a direct effect on your life than President Obama ever could. I once joked about starting the Michelle C. Clark School for People Who Don’t Read So Good, but now I am beginning to think it may be the very thing the city needs to get better leadership.

Meatless Mondays Is Not A Bad Word...

After recently viewing the documentary Food Inc., I heard something that I had never heard before. Something that I found amazing that in this day and age of anti big government that such a law would be on the books in quite a few states. It’s called the “Veggie Libel Law.” Yes, you heard me right the Veggie Libel Law. Approximately a dozen or so states have enacted food disparagement statutes that basically makes it libel for anyone to make negative comments about the food industry or the food supply.  It has been posited that food disparagement laws are the descendants of  “Criminal Sedition Laws”, which made it a crime to criticize public officials.

Critics who speak out against the food industry may be held civilly liable for claiming any perishable food product or commodity is unsafe for human consumption. Even if the speaker is proven to be right they are still burdened with the cost of fighting such a law suit.

Now these laws are being used by the powerful to silence its’ critics. Individual activists and small media outlets are particularly vulnerable to this law. Since they do not have deep pockets to fight huge agricultural businesses they suffer the most when going up against mammoth size companies. I think the most familiar example of this is when the Texas Beef Industry took talk show host Oprah Winfrey to court. It took her 6 years and well over a million dollars to fight and win against such a powerful industry . All she did was voice her own personal choice to not eat beef based on the facts presented on her show on how the meat industry handled cattle.

So I guess the question becomes how does the little guy protect themselves against big business? How can we ensure that we are feeding our families the best quality of food? My suggestion is to read the labels before you purchase, support your local farmers markets, start a garden and whenever possible find cattle ranchers in your area that raise cattle on grass, not corn. Educate yourselves on the ethical treatment of cattle before slaughter.

I’m giving real consideration to at least starting “Meatless Monday’s” in my household. It’s a small step in a healthier direction.

I Am Not Afraid...

Tonight I went out with a group of friends. We decided to drive out the suburbs to pacify one of our friends. He always drives to the city to hang out with us. So this time we decided to get dressed up and head out his way. The first stop was dinner at a very nice sports bar. The drinks were awesome. The food was yummy. The atmosphere was just what I needed. It was a mature swanky group of people. I felt at ease. I felt as if I were in the company of my peers. We then left from there and headed to another club of his choosing. I mean we were in his neighborhood after all.

The second stop of the night was a complete shock. This may sound bougie, but I knew the moment we pulled in the lot this was going to be a club full of kids by the lack of nice cars in the parking lot. As soon as we turned the corner there they were, people young enough to be my children. Yet, my friend seemed so excited. He was hyped about bringing us to this teeny bopper club. So it got me to thinking about aging. Why did the prospect of getting older seem to frighten so many people? It made me wonder why some people can age with grace and dignity and others fight it every step of the way like some sort of plague.

So of course the other 3 people in our 4 person posse began to challenge him on his choice of club. I mean, wasn’t there anything in his area for the over 40 crowd. Did I really have to listen to “Shots” all night long with him bouncing around like he had just dropped acid? What the hell was really going on? I felt trapped in a teenage night mare. All I needed was the wet dream to complete it. What would make a man over 40 want to hang out with 20 something’s. This was the kind of club that a girl would tell a guy she’s 21, but in all actuality she was only 15. Jail bait central.  Yet here I sat trying to have a good time. Trying not to spoil his fun, but it was no use. I’m a grown ass woman who likes to hang with other adults my age. I enjoy the company and conversation of people my age and older. People who talk in complete sentences. Who have interesting conversation to bring to the table. I want to be around people I have common interests with, i.e. a job, a home owner, children, a 401K. 

So after what would have seemed like eternity I called it a night. My sister told me I could blame it on her. Say that she was ready to leave. It was no use in lying. He could sense my uneasiness with our environment. So we said our good byes and headed back to the city. Where I am glad to know we have a myriad of night club options. I choose to hang out in spots where men and women over 40 meet to engage in intelligent conversation. I embrace getting older with all the grace and dignity one woman can muster. I don't feel I missed out on one thing in my 20's. I am not afraid of getting older...

Mayor Crusty Is A Real Clown...

I am pretty much convinced that if  I don’t stop watching local politics I’m going to stroke out. Now Mayor Crusty, I mean Mayor Dave Bing, wants the governor to appoint an Emergency Financial Manager to the City of Detroit. Further, he has stated that he wants to be said “EMF”. Is he serious? When an EMF is appointed the Mayor or School Board Superintendant is relieved of their duties. What is essentially being said is that you have done an awful job. We have no faith in your abilities to turn things around. You have neither vision , nor the creative fortitude to bring about change. So that being said what makes Mayor Bing think for one second the governor would appoint him?

I remember back in April of this year the Mayor held a news conference during the back and forth haggling of the budget process with the City Council. He said then under no uncertain terms would he support the appointment of  an EMF. He went on to say that an EMF would be devastating for the city. Also, during the same time period City Council wanted to make further cuts to the budget his office submitted. He told the public that those cuts were draconian and would greatly impact the quality of life for the citizens of Detroit. Now here he stands today wanting to do the very things that he said he was against. What gives?

The Mayor would have you believe that the public service unions are the problem behind the city finances. He has said over and over again that unions will not come to the bargaining table to make the necessary cuts. My question is how can you ask a city employee that makes only $24,000/ year to take another 10% cut in pay on top of  the 10% already taken?  How do you expect that same person to pay an additional 20% of their health care? He wants retirees on fixed incomes to take cuts to their pensions. Money they worked for and depended on in their golden years. Once again politicians are trying to solve the mismanagement of public dollars on the backs of the working class and seniors.

Why doesn’t the administration lead by example?  Let’s get rid of the countless appointees.  Let’s trim the city council down from a 9 member board to 5 members. Let them take a 25% cut on their office budget and a 20% pay cut. They could share staff like many other private sector business do.  No cars or security team should be needed for council. I mean really, who’s out to get Charles Pugh???

It seems odd that no one in executive management or any mayoral appointees have been asked to accept a cut in pay or participate in the Budget Reduction Furlough Days(BRF). I wonder why??? Mayor Bing is a rich man, why can’t he work for free? Show us his real dedication to the city.

We’ve sold every asset we have except the DWSD.  Is our Mayor sounding the final horn before he prostitutes our treasured jewel to the highest bidder?  Sadly the Mayor and City Council have no vision, creativity, fortitude or economic development sense to take the City of Detroit to world class status. It is unfortunate that we will forever be the joke of Southeastern Michigan.

I Can No Longer Identify The Enemy...

As I sit in front of my computer feelings of frustration seem to overwhelm me. That feeling of helplessness is nudging at my psyche. That hopelessness that wears you down and makes you feel as if nothing you say or do matters. I would have never thought in my lifetime that I would see the leaders of this country turn its’ back on the greatest generation ever….”The Baby Boomers.” Yet here I sit, with a blank stare on my face reading article after article on how the Congressional Supercommittee (6 democrats, 6 republicans) entrusted with eliminating $1.2 trillion from the federal deficit will do so on the backs of  the elderly.  Both sides have agreed to cut Social Security benefits by 3%. The most vulnerable citizens in our society will be forced to make lifestyle decisions that could include buying medicine instead of food. Yet nowhere in the conversation is there a mention of taxing Wall Street financial speculation. I think the hardest pill to swallow is that the very seniors they seek to cut to mediocrity have paid into this system their entire working adult lives.

According to Dean Baker…”The benefit cut is being justified by claiming that the current cost-of-living adjustment exceeds the true rate of inflation. In fact, the Bureau of Labor Statistics index that measures the cost of living of the elderly indicates that the current adjustment understates the rate of inflation experienced by retirees. There should be no doubt, this is a proposal for cutting Social Security benefits; it has nothing to do with making the cost-of-living adjustments accurate.”

Nowhere in any proposal to cut the budget deficit, is there any mention of taxing Wall Street. Neither Democrat nor Republican on the supercommittee has made nary of a request to the Joint Taxing Committee (JTC) to consider taxing Wall Street financial speculations. You remember those risky investments that caused the housing bubble and the near collapse of our banking system.  The European Commission is currently fine tuning details to enact a Financial Speculation Tax (FST). It is thought that such a tax in the United States would generate revenues between 0.2 – 0.3% of the gross domestic product (GDP), which translates to roughly $30 - $40 billion dollars annually, that’s just taxing stock. If we add options, futures, credit default swaps, and other derivative instruments into the mix we could raise 3 to 4 times more revenue. Yet not one member of the congressional supercommittee has proposed scoring such a bill with the Joint Tax Committee.

It’s no wonder the 99% want to Occupy Wall Street and that only 9% of the country has a favorable approval rating for both houses of congress.  At one time I use to think the GOP was the enemy of the working class. I can no longer readily identify the enemy.

What Do You Mean You Couldn't Spend The Money????

Today has been yet another sad day in city government in Detroit. A $9.2 million dollar home weatherization grant has reverted back to the state because the leaders of Detroit did not spend the money in time. Approximately 5,000 families could have been helped with this federally funded grant.

“Also losing out were hundreds of unemployed Detroiters who had hoped to land jobs fixing windows, installing furnaces and repairing roofs as part of the federal weatherization program funded by economic stimulus money.”

I have been screaming all day about the incompetence and ineptness of our city leaders. Mayor Bing and his administration should be brought up on criminal charges for neglect of duty. Where is Kim Worthy when you really need her? It amazes me that the citizens of Detroit sit back and take this slap in the face from our elected and appointed leaders.  I find it astonishing that those entrusted with the task of helping the city’s poorest and most vulnerable citizens could not figure out how to spend the money.  The money forfeited by Detroit goes back to the state general fund to be redistributed to communities that have already received funding from this grant.

The city has been mired in federal investigations regarding grant money. $7 million in federal funds intended for the Head Start program had to be returned from allegations of misuse. They were unable to spend a $210,000 grant designed to help clothe and feed the poor. Instead they bought furniture for their offices.  1,000 requests for help from poor and low income citizens have been denied by the Department of Human Services. The city was originally awarded $33 million in federal stimulus money.

 So now the Michigan Community Action Agency Association, will sprint to distribute the money to as many homeowners as possible, MCAAA Director Jim Crisp said Monday. Once again showing the ineptness of city government to do its’ job.

Ursula Holland the director of Human Services Department has refused comment. I’ll bet she did.  What kind of asinine answer would she give the media for her inability to run her department.  A person charged with helping the poor does absolutely nothing for them. Fire them all. Let’s start over. How much worse could we actually do???

The Art Of Argument...

Over the last couple of days I have been giving a lot of thought to the Art of Arguing. I am particularly engaged in this thought process because of a really bad argument I had over the weekend with a really close friend. We had been squabbling back and forth for the past couple of days. I attribute it to the undue stress she placed on herself about an upcoming event. She might disagree. Nonetheless, we had been in heated battle for two days.

Now anyone who really knows me knows that I do not like to argue with people as a rule. I’ll even try to avoid arguments at all cost. However, if pushed to a certain point I am known to snap. This is what happened this past weekend. The verbal sparring, the insults and insinuations were ridiculous. Yet it got me to thinking about arguing with people you love. More importantly the Art of Arguing with people you love. I say Art, because of the quality, production, expression or realm according to the principles of argument.

There is a certain way that one should have disagreements with the people we love. Just because you are angry does not give you free range to say mean and hurtful things. Just because you do not agree with someone does not give you permission to call names. Bringing up past transgressions will not help your side of the argument, because the past is just that. The past. I firmly believe that when you are hurling insults and hurtful conversation to prove your point, the person with whom you are disagreeing ceases to listen. They are now only thinking about the next hurtful thing they are going to say to you. No points have been made. You’ve accomplished nothing.

When I find myself in heated disagreements with the people I love I try to think about what I’m going to say before I open my mouth. I am not looking for the most hurtful thing I can say to them, but the best way to get my point across without attacking them as a human being.  I want to be heard and understood without attacking your character. It is important to not let anger take you places that may be hard to come back from. Words cut deeper than you know. That’s why people say you should be careful how you speak to your children. You could scar them for life with ugly words.

So I say the next time you find yourself in a heated debate with a loved one, friend, coworker, etc., take a few seconds and count to ten before you utter that next sentence. You may save yourself a shit load of I’m sorry’s. 

You Won't Melt It's Just Water...

Yesterday our block club hosted its’ 1^st Annual Fall Harvest Festival Block Party. It started off as a simple conversation on the front porch of one of my neighbors. A desire to bring the block together sparked the conversation. There was a yearning to capture that nostalgia of years gone by. Many of my current neighbors are second generation home owners. They are now the owners of the homes they grew up. So they have a history with the block. They remember the times when Unity was like taking your next breath.

 They tell stories of block parties that spanned 3 city blocks. Memories of swim mobiles and  play mobiles took over the conversation. You could see the smile in the eyes of my neighbors as they reminisced about the past. Neighbors would drag their grills out on the streets, children rode their bikes in out of the burst of water from the fire hydrants and I’m sure Al Green was playing somewhere in the background.

So it was from a desire to give our children something we grew up on that got the ball rolling. We learned new hustles, ate yummy fish sandwiches, roasted marshmallows, carved pumpkins, face painting for everyone, a chili cook off, kids and adults alike in costumes. It was amazing to see so many people come out to support our 1^st event. I prayed for peace and good weather. God delivered. Not one problem and the sun came out after a few sprinkles. I had the privilege of talking with our elders. People who have lived on this block 58 years plus. To learn the history of this neighborhood proved more informative than any book I’ve read about Detroit.

The momentum is there. We are excited about what we were able to accomplish working together. So as we plan for our next meeting to discuss our upcoming bowling party I am confident that the neighbors who did not participate today will get involved in our next outing. The excitement is contagious…

Girl I Didn't Know You Liked Merlot...

It’s so funny how things always seem to work out for the greater good.  We are on the Eve of our 1^st Annual Fall Harvest Festival Block Party. Time is winding down. We are indeed in the final hours. Things at this point need to be taken care of.  Those who have committed themselves are accounted for. But for some strange reason one hold out neighbor has been on my mind. Now don’t get it twisted, one monkey won’t stop this Diva’s show, but for reasons only known to a higher authority this particular neighbors lack of involvement bothered me.

I love her children. When I see them I always make a point of speaking. Asking them how their day went. How’s school going? Are you being good? College plans? The usual questions any adult would put on a child when expressing concern. So it hurt my feelings when their mom ignored our knocks at the door for volunteers and contributions. I will admit that I was the block club member screaming outside her house that I knew she was in there and that it was some BULLSHIT she wasn’t answering the door. Not professional, but hey I grew up near Mack & Bewick, so decorum was not always required.  While I know that is no excuse for bad behavior, I couldn’t help myself. Anger has a way of taking you to the “LEFT”.

I spoke with other neighbors about my concerns. I got all kind of crazy responses. None of which made any kind of sense in what I deemed my logical mind. I see you all the time. We speak. We kick it. What’s holding you back??? I admit I got angry at first. We all want things to go our way. We all want people in alignment with our ideas. Those things we hold near and dear. The very things we think are right. Those beliefs we are certain everyone else shares….”NOT”. 

So after a long day of running around for the block party it was time to wind it down. I stepped in my neighborhood store for my favorite bottle of “Merlot” and who do I see??? Okay, you already know otherwise this blog entry would be a complete waste of time. However, my prideful mind told me to keep it moving. Grab what you came to get. Whatever program she’s running let her, but my spiritual being would not accept that. It just simply wouldn’t let me walk away. How could I when all my efforts are for the benefit for us all. Not just me and mine, but for you and yours. So when I saw her I said something. I ran up and threw my arms around her. I began to ask her how could she not want to fellowship with us?  How could she let such a momentous occasion take place without being involved? Of course I got all the stories, but I would not let it end that way.

Making sure to tell her I love her and her children. Letting her know that we need her and hers there, putting my pride aside I knew that was true. So I cannot say if she will show, if what I said will make a difference. But I’m hopeful, I’m positive. Ever the optimistic. Praying for good weather and praying for peace. I just have to believe she’ll be there and I will meet her right where she is…

You're Going To Put A Dent In My Mini Blinds...

They say it takes a village to raise a child. I say it takes a community for that child to survive. Today my block club wrapped up its’ final planning session for our 1^st Annual Fall Harvest Festival Block Party. I’m excited to see our block pull together for the benefit of us all.  The faithful 10 has met each week for the past two months to get what seemed an impossible effort off the ground.

I moved here 10 years ago when my marriage ended.  I came with two small children, favorite daughter, 8 and favorite son, 6.  Dazed, confused and not quite sure of my next move I began to find my way. I immersed myself in the kinships of my block.   They in turn embraced a single mother with two small children.   My neighbors looked out when I had to work overtime. They stepped up to babysit when I got accepted to the UAW-Ford Apprenticeship Program.  When I found myself working insane hours, crazy shifts and going to school, they stepped in with untold support.  The community wrapped its’ arms around us. They uplifted us.  That fairy tale ideology of community is what I found on my block. People joke when they come to visit me that it seems we all know each other. They marvel at the fact that we are indeed one big family that happens to be situated on one city block.  And to this I say we sure are.

That is why it is with great pride that I am able to work on our block party. The seniority block club members (30 plus years) tell me they haven’t had such an event since the late 70’s early 80’s.  The level of excitement is infectious. Although I would have liked for every neighbor on our 44 house block to participate I understand that you cannot have it all. So come Saturday we will break bread, karaoke, learn new hustles, bob for apples, challenge each other in our chili cook off challenge, slam dominoes, send people to Boston, make our books, toss rings on pumpkins, but most of all we will fellowship with our neighbors. We will get from behind the mini blinds and spend some one on one time getting to know each other once again.