I Ain't Said Nothin' But A Word...

Mr. Ben and I met many years ago. We worked for the same employer. Back then Mr. Ben had already passed the age of retirement. Unfortunately, like many persons his age, retirement was not an option if he wanted to eat on a regular basis. He was uneducated, unskilled and his failing health and just the dynamics of old age limited what he was actually capable of doing. But Mr. Ben had been with this employer for over fifty years. He was a much-loved fixture of sorts and the owner of that business, understanding the nature of Mr. Ben’s circumstances, cut him much slack. What Mr. Ben was employed to do, we actually found others to do for him. It was through the generosity of caring individuals that Mr. Ben continued to get a weekly paycheck. That company continues to provide Mr. Ben with a small stipend just to come in once a week and say hello. I loved that job. I loved its owners and managers. I had great respect for what they did for their employees. It was a company, of sorts, that alw

Dear Debby, You really are a little full of yourself, aren’t you? I’ve been reading your blog for a few weeks now and I’d like to know what makes you qualified to do this? Actually, I’m a lot full of myself. I would hope that every woman gets to that point in her life when she is confident in her strengths, understanding of her weaknesses, and generally comfortable with the person she has matured into. I’m there and that alone allows me to be as full of myself as I damn well please. Now, the better question is what makes me unqualified and why should I not do this? I have the right to share my opinions, my thoughts, and my stories, as I’m so inclined. You have the option to ignore me or not. This is like TV – good and bad. If the program offends or bores you, change the channel. Dear Debby, My best friend is in an abusive relationship. I have seen her boyfriend yell and scream at her and call her names many times. He’s extremely jealous and has to know where she is all the time. I hav

I don’t usually bite my tongue over much. But I have a family member who has had me biting my tongue for most of her life and for no other reason than I have wanted to keep peace between me and the old people. I have, however, come to a point where peace may well be damned whether I bite or not. As children we had imaginary playmates, fictional friends that may have disappeared as quickly as they revealed themselves. As teens, it became a joke between sisters that this family member was still playing with her imaginary friends, pretending they were real. And though we laughed behind cupped hands, there was something sad about a young woman who had no true friends or friendships to speak of. This exceptionally bizarre behavior continued into adulthood and to this day, no one in the family has ever met any of the female friends or boyfriends that this person continually talks about. The men she has claimed to love or care for have typically gone by single syllable monikers with no known

Love may well be a splendored thing, but it can also be something else altogether. Deirdre (not her real name) and Harry (not his either) have been a couple since she was nineteen and he was twenty. They have been in a relationship (or semblance there of) since they met in 1970. Shortly after meeting, Deirdre became pregnant with her only child. The daughter, who unfortunately was not fathered by Harry, soon became the light of his life. For years, Harry tried to move heaven and earth to give Deirdre everything her heart desired. Unfortunately, it was Deirdre’s heart that proved to be the thing most unmovable. After numerous marriage proposals, so many that folks have now lost count, Harry could do nothing to get Deirdre to feel for him what he felt for her. But Harry endured because of the daughter that he had claimed and raised as his, holding onto hope that one day Deirdre would be his as well. The daughter, now an adult, watched these two people pretend to be happy for her sake and

It's my birthday and I'll do what I want to...do what I want to... Don't have a clue what I plan to do today, but hey, it's my birthday! And it's one of those milestone birthdays where someone might want to hang a few black balloons around but they know they better not if they'd like to be around to see my next birthday. Before you ask, I'm only 29. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. You see my mother swears she's only 35 so I can't possibly be older than she is. I do plan to forgo the diet today and eat me some birthday cake. Even got up early and went to the gym so I wouldn't feel guilty. The weather fairies have smuggled in some warm weather and I am happy, happy, happy! Ten years ago when I celebrated that milestone birthday you would have thought the world was coming to an end. I was depressed for days. My best friend flew down to spend my birthday weekend with me and when I was bemoaning the fact that I was getting old, she rol

Walter Mosley is the 54-year-old author of some thirty books ranging from mystery novels to young adult tomes. I’m a big Walter Mosley fan. I met him once a few years ago at one of his book signings here in the NC area. Like most of the women in the room that day I was bowled over by the man’s presence. He has great presence and I won’t lie, I think that Walter Mosley is sexy as hell. He’s also an author I endeavor to emulate, a man not afraid to push the craft of writing in new directions. It helps that he has an abundance of pure, raw talent that cannot be denied. He is a master storyteller, no matter what the genre and his latest literary offering has left me stunned. My mouth is still hanging open like I’ve lost my mind. Mosley’s newest book, Killing Johnny Fry is an exceptionally graphic expose of a man’s sexuality and insecurity gone awry. The story is an amalgamation of erotica, pornographic filth, and literary brilliance. It’s the story of a black man named Cordell who one day

My apology for the delay but folks was all up in my way this week. As a result, I've decided that the Dear Debby column will run on Sundays. It seems to fit the schedule better for the moment. Enjoy! Dear Debby, I feel like my family and friends are walking all over me. For years I have helped my sisters with their children, buying gifts over the holidays and such, but not one of my sisters ever did the same for my kids. When my sister’s husband was sick this year I called her every day to check on her and her family to see if there was anything I could do to help but when my husband had a stroke, no one called me regularly to check on me. Am I wrong to feel the way I feel? No, you are as entitled to your feelings as the next guy but whining about your feelings doesn't serve any grand purpose. It sounds like there are other issues eating away at you. First, you feel like everyone is walking all over you. Understand that people will only do to you what you allow them to do. If

We’re celebrating love today! Personally, I don’t attach much significance to Valentine’s Day. Sure, it makes for a few great Hallmark moments, but I don’t need one specific day out of the year to tell the people who’ve captured a place in my heart that I love them. I do that every day, all year long. My son’s death taught me that time is too fleeting and relationships are too fragile to take them for granted. Red hearts, flowery cards, and little trinkets may feel good for the moment, but when the moment has passed I want to know that love still thrives and I want those I love to know it as well. Tonight, the hubby and I are sending the son and his wife off for an evening of alone time, a little dinner and dancing if they’re so inclined. We understand that young parents need that time to recoup and be reminded of the emotions that brought them to this place to begin with. We plan to baby sit the munchkin and her big brother. Knowing I’ve got a tantrum or two or three ahead of me this

Tyler Perry has a new movie out today and I want to show the brother some love by giving him, and it, a shout out. I adore me some Tyler Perry. If I were looking for a second husband Tyler would be at the top of my list. Tyler has taken some flap for his Madea character. Much like the flap Eddie Murphy is getting now with his new movie, Norbit. Folks are up in arms about men portraying and supposedly stereotyping black women. Folks just ain’t got nothing better to do with their time. I grew up with Flip Wilson and Geraldine. I don’t recall Flip getting a hard time. It’s almost as if we’ve forgotten what it means to just have a sense of humor and enjoy a good laugh. Folks just want to make things personal when there really isn’t anything personal about it. But I digress. Tyler’s new movie, Daddy’s Little Girls, stars the lovely Gabrielle Union and fine-as-wine, Idris Elba. It’s a romantic comedy about family, community, and love against the odds. Single father, Monty (Elba) is a garage

We have a new grandbaby! A little girl weighing in at five pounds, four and one-half ounces. Her parents named her after an empire. They just spelled it different. I swear I’ve had to ask three times now what the new baby’s name is. The last time my child’s response held just enough attitude that I won’t be asking again. Instead, I’ll crown this new jewel with a nickname and just let it be what it’s going to be. My late father-in-law had so many grandchildren that after a while he just refused to learn their names. Instead, he would call them all “Bill”, even the girls. There was never a funnier, laugh-out-loud moment than when he’d call, “come here, Bill”, and seven or eight little kids came running like their little lives depended on it. The first time my youngest child went to visit, he tried for days to convince “Papa” that his name wasn’t “Bill”. By the end of the visit, he was answering to “Bill” like all the others. This baby is grandchild number nine. I’m planning on dispensing

Welcome To Dear Debby ! I was going to do this twice per week but I've decided to just see how it goes. So for now, Dear Debby will run every Friday. Do you have a pressing question you want to ask, a problem you want to air anonymously? Click the link in the sidebar to email me. And let's not forget the required legal yada-yada. This is for entertainment purposes only. Dear Debby, My sister and I are not close. Nor is she close to anyone else in the family. Historically she will come and go from our lives as the moment moves her. She has never held down a job for longer than a few months. She has had three husbands that we know of and gave up her only child for adoption without asking the family for help even though she knew any one of us would have taken the child in. This last time she stayed away for almost three years then showed up unannounced as if nothing had happened. Our father died this past year and she was not at the funeral, claiming she couldn’t get a flight hom

A guest co-host on the morning talk show, The View , irked me recently. The hot topic of the morning was about Barack Obama, a black man, and Hillary Clinton, a white woman, both announcing their intent to make a run for the Presidency of the United States. This co-host commented that “she wished a regular, white guy would join the race to make things easier”. The comment made me stop and pause. Easier for who? For what? Why? And what about all the regular white guys, like John Edwards, who have also tossed their names in the running? Would her regular, white guy be able to do something a black man or a white woman couldn’t do? We’ve already got a regular white guy in the office and if his record is any indication of what another regular white guy will do for us, then damn! Then of course, presidential candidate Joe Biden showed his true color by commenting that Obama is “the first mainstream African-American who is articulate and bright and clean”. I guess Biden won’t ever be able to

A friend recently suggested that I start my own advice column. I'd initially dismissed the thought, but have since reconsidered. I remember reading Dear Abby and Ann Landers growing up and thinking that in all their efforts to be politically correct there were times when they just needed to tell the writers to get a life and stop bitching and whining about crap. There are folks who continually seek out my advice and I think it’s because I have no qualms about telling them to get a life. I don’t have time to sugarcoat stuff. Besides, too much sugar coating usually taints the message and the person in need is so busy getting high off the sweet that they fail to get the substance of the advice all together. The more I've been thinking about the idea, the more I'm inclined to say, what the heck, why not? Of course, my Dear Debby column will just do what I do best: shoot straight from the hip after the appropriate warnings for one to duck. Sage advice is truly not for the