My, My, My, What a Mess

‘My, my, my, what a mess’ is one of those phrases from African America lore. In this usage, mess meaning the equivalent of excretion. One can surmise the situation untenable, making no sense. I love these kinds of phrases as they remind me of conversations I’ve had with members of the older generation of black…

Will The Real Candidate Please Stand Up

I tried to lay low during the first part of the 2020 National Election. I didn’t want to comment too early about any candidate, especially the guy that sits in the White House as President. We are now in November of 2019. One year away, too early, but the Iowa Caucus set for February 3,…

Unchon-ni, South Korea, I Remember 1962-63

Strike up a conversation with most people who were young, free, and enjoyed American life in the sixties. You will hear, maybe even feel their urgency to bring back the nostalgia of being young during that era. It was a time, whereas the overall feeling of most people in this country was to live life…

Third Floor Flat to a Single Story Home

Once again, a health issue caused me to be out of pocket for a length of time. I was in the hospital on Christmas Day last December, discharged on New Year’s Eve. I wrote about my aortic valve replacement a couple of years ago. This time I didn’t feel like writing about issues concerning my…

Maturity comes with a Price and Responsibility

For as long as I can remember, I’ve never run away or shied away from who I am. By that I mean my birthright or race. Oh, I’ve had my questions of why I had to live with my father instead of my mother after their divorce. But then I finally resolved that idea by…

I Remember The Old Christmas Seasons

Tis the season when I become nostalgic and remember Christmas time at my parents and an assortment of relatives’ houses. Being raised in Milwaukee, I understood what the late Bing Crosby meant by a White Christmas. We wished for light snow instead of a snowstorm. If that be the case, I would grab my snow…

Misguided Intentions, the Book

From birth through our teens we experience quite a bit of life that is out of our control. One could say we are not in command of our lives during that period. The responsibility for our overall well-being lies with our parents or other adults. Once we have reached the legal age of self-responsibility, we…

Remembering Moz, the Book

I beg to differ, no… anybody can’t write a book. You will note that those who say that loudest haven’t written anything. Any and everybody may be trying, including me, but everybody cannot write a book. Education, training, or tutoring enables but does not produce an effective writer. Oh, I believe as others that there…

Ignoring American History is Ill-Advised and Shameful

For those who want to erase, or ignore Black History. There should be shame in your game is the best way I can say it. For some people of color, it is shameful because it is your parents, and your own ancestral history that you want to act as though didn’t happen. At the center…

Black Legends of the Wild, Wild West, Part IV

This is the fourth and final article of a Four Part Series on Black Folks, who helped to tame the west. First we looked at US Deputy Marshal Bass Reeves, followed by Mary Fields aka Stagecoach Mary. Then James Pierson Beckwourth, American Mountain Man and our final legend from the old west is Nat (pronounced…

Black Legends of the Wild, Wild West, Part III

This is the third article of a Four Part Series on Black Folks, who helped to tame the west. First we looked at US Deputy Marshal Bass Reeves, followed by Mary Fields aka Stagecoach Mary. Today we examine the life of James Pierson Beckwourth, American Mountain Man.   There is some discrepancy as to when…

Black Legends in the Wild, Wild West, Part 1

This is the first article of a Four Part Series on Black Folks, who helped to tame the west. Today we take a look at U.S. Deputy Marshal Bass Reeves.   The subject matter and individual I’m writing about this Black History Month causes me to be reflective of my personal history. I remember when…