REALLY?

There are a few award shows I’ve come to avoid like the plague.  My age has finally caught up with me and since I can’t reach into the television set to shake some sense into people I don’t like to upset myself unnecessarily.  Regrettably I watched this year’s Video Music Awards and it took no time at all for me to wish that I hadn’t. 

What the VMA confirmed for me is that wealth, nor success, brings maturity.  Maturity comes with age, hard work, heartbreak and a few hard knocks that make you sit back and re-evaluate your choices.  Most of the young participants being honored at the VMA still have a whole lot of growing up to do.

Calling out your ex-boyfriend for being your ex-boyfriend is what you do in high school.  And even then it looks childish and stupid.  An expensive, pretty dress won’t mask bad behavior so why would you want to remind everyone that you’ve gone through half the boy bands in the country and are regularly dumped like the locker room tramp?  You told your side of the breakup in song, won an award for it and meanwhile he’s moved on without giving you a second thought.  I’m thinking all you really managed to do was remind him why he’s glad he’s no longer with you in the first place.

Twerk?  Tongue?  Really?  That whole fiasco has people talking about you but no one has included the word “talented” in any of their commentaries.  Obviously you had a point to prove but mimicking the drunk chick on a college break binge said more about your lack of intelligence than anything else.  But hey, if you think your version of a super head video ho’ on crack elevated your star status who am I to comment?  I do know that if you want to shake your tits and ass, you might want to get some tits and ass first.  Back in 2009 an award winning performer apologized for saying that you would one day end up on the stripper pole.  I’m thinking he could have saved that apology because he hit that prediction right on the head.  You dropped it low and wide and the performance most of us saw was the one where the boys in the club would make it rain for you and you wouldn't even have to pretend to sing while you were doing it.

And for those taking issue with MTV for their coverage.  Get a grip.  It’s MTV.  The acts weren’t 14 and you weren’t watching The Cartoon Network.  Okay, maybe a little bit of it was cartoonish.  But it’s not rocket science to know that if you don’t want little junior scarred for life then you don’t let him watch MTV, BET, or HBO.  Give him a book to read and turn the television off all together.  Haven’t you heard?  Reading is fundamental!

CINDERONCE by Todrick Hall

I absolutely LOVE this great spin on a classic fairytale!  Cinderella told through Beyoncé tunes...

FILL THE HOUSE WITH ANGELS

 

I do not know Pam Vap but I would love to meet her one day.  I recently discovered this poem that she’d written and I’ve shared it every time I’m able.  It made me smile and laugh and even bought a tear to my eye.  Pam Vap has a way with words and I appreciate her sharing her gift.

I welcomed a beautiful new grandbaby yesterday and as my Sonshine and his beautiful wife shared images of their new baby I thought of Pam and her poem.  They are only just starting to fill their house with angels.  If my precious granddaughter only knew how she is tugging at my heartstrings! 

 

I LEARNED TO SWEAR by Pam Vap

I learned to swear
twenty minutes before my first child was born.
Since then, it’s been a handy habit
to have around, and I expect God
to turn his head. After all,
he owes me one. It’s a trick
to make babies look so good.

The truth is they leak.
And of all horrors, they grow.

They only speak whine;
they cry and complain and wipe snot
on their sleeves. They spill dinner.
They stir pasta into their milk cups
and squish spinach between their teeth.
They eat crayons and toothpaste.

They call constantly. They call
constantly. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mo-om.

They inhale money, bang down stairs,
and store dirty socks and sandwich crusts
like hidden treasures in their closets.
They lipstick walls; they swallow marbles.
They break things.

Yet, God (no doubt in his wisdom) has ordained
that these crude creatures
should sleep incognito:
gentle
quiet
warm.

I am fooled easily.

Each night as I tuck covers around them
and bend to kiss their sweet, sleepy faces,
I don’t care that they used
all the silverware in the garden.

Let’s fill the house with angels,
I whisper to my husband
as I slip between the sheets.

MEETING BEVERLY JENKINS

Renowned author Beverly Jenkins opened her Facebook page today to authors with a new book out, affording them the opportunity to promote their work to her audience.  It was a very loving and generous opportunity for all authors hoping to gain some attention, myself included.  While I was posting a link to my latest romance, Truly Yours, I couldn’t help but reflect back on the moment I first met Ms. Bev. 

It was Romance Slam Jam 2012 in Little Rock, Arkansas.  That first night they had a wonderful Mix and Mingle with a delightful game that had everyone running around the room asking people questions about themselves.  If I remember correctly, I was seated at a table with a bookseller from Books-A-Million, and authors Laura Park Castoro and KD King, when Ms. Bev suddenly appeared at my side and asked me what month I was born in.  I could barely get the word February out my mouth when she looked at my paper, answered one of my questions and then said, “My name’s Beverly Jenkins.”

In that moment I was tongue-tied and awestruck and I have no doubts I made a complete and total fool of myself.  I don’t even recall if I even responded with something that made an ounce of sense but I do know that I never introduced myself back before she was off to the next table of adoring fans.  I still shake my head at the memory but now I can laugh about how I sat there like a large lump on a log, completely star-struck.  That weekend, what I discovered most about Ms. Bev, was just how generous of spirit she was, and continues to be.  The woman is a sheer delight and I hope that the next time I’m in her presence I’m better able to put one word in front of the other and have it make some sense.

Meeting an author whose work I admire is always a thrill for me.  Usually I do a better job of not looking foolish when I do.  I was actually able to string together a coherent sentence when I met Walter Mosley.  I do, however, admit to coming off like a crazed stalker when I met Bernice McFadden. 

In all my years there has only been one author I admired who turned out to be a disappointment.  She had no interest in being at the event she was participating in and she could have cared less about the fans who’d come to see her.  She was distant and cold and clearly annoyed with signing books.  At the time I wondered if there was something devastating going on in her life to explain her bad behavior.  Weeks after that event I reached out to say how much I loved her work and how excited I’d been to meet her.  I wished her success on her current work and hoped that all was well with her.  The reply I got back was curt, rude, and pointed me to her website since I’d apparently defiled her personal email in some way.  Giving her the benefit of the doubt I attended one other event with her but her behavior wasn’t much better.  I haven’t bought one of her books since.

If there ever comes a day when I can’t at least be courteous to the many fans and book readers who make what I do possible I hope someone gives me a quick, swift kick in my hind parts.  I know that the success I've been blessed with could not have been possible if it were not for the support and love that has been shown to me from other people.  I am grateful for every person that has purchased or read my books.  I hope that every time I meet a fan that everything about my presence and demeanor lets them know that.

And more than that I hope that I can follow her example and be as generous of spirit as Ms. Bev.