I don't much believe in the cult of celebrity, but sometimes you learn a lot from watching how the rich and famous live their lives.
I don't much believe in the cult of celebrity, but sometimes you learn a lot from watching how they live their lives. As a public service, I give you...
10 Things You Could Learn From Tiger Woods
1. Variety? Not the spice of life we thought it was. It's weird for me to look at the cavalcade of alleged mistresses only to find out that they look like variations on a similar theme: Fugly. And isn't his wife white and fugly, too? I mean, when you cheat, aren't you looking for something you DON'T have? If you have Lays potato chips at home, you steal Doritos. You gonna go out and steal ANOTHER a bag of Lays—in Vegas? Really?
3. White women are gulley, too. Not only did Elin Nordegren probably/maybe bust Tiger's lip, but did you hear that she called the jump-off at work?! That's a prelude to a weave-pullin', grease-splatterin', bare-chested catfight! Say what you will, but I can't recall an act of domestic violence coupled with a catfight that has lifted away a pervasive stereotype: From this day forward, the image of the spineless, pliant, white woman is dead. Those of us who have dated white women already knew, but let the record show: A white woman will eff you up on some BS at least as quickly, if not quicker, than a sista will.
4. Cheat within your caste. Rich guys always end up hooking up with coat-check girls, retail managers and cocktail waitresses. Not for nothing because this creates a power dynamic that makes the dalliance even that much more psycho-sexual. But choosing low inadvertantly puts the mistress on top. How? Well, if you are a rich, married man with children hooking up with a waitress, college co-ed, office assistant or aspiring actress, you have given someone power over your life who has everything to gain and nothing to lose by compromising your trust. If you have to cheat, get yourself a married woman or someone who has at least as much to lose as you.
5. Fame is the deal you make with the devil. You can't turn it on and off.
6. You need a Ne'er Do Well in your crew. I find that no matter how high I climb up the social ladder, it's always good to keep a Ne'er Do Well in my crew -- think Rollo Larson -- someone who is too street to come to my cocktail parties, but street enough to advise me when I get myself in some crazy ish that may need a less-than-honorable-but-effective solution. Didn't Rollo always seem to have a plausible lie on tap? That's what I'm talking about.
7. White women accentuate your blackness. Tiger Woods, the monied black man surrounding himself with a bevy of below-average, dirt-road white women looks more like Polow Da Don than a role model to millions. There is no racism here, and I'm sure he'd get the same kind of attention if he were Brett Favre -- but only if Farve were married to a sista. It would be hard to look at this story and not see how race makes it even more titillating. The media wolves have been waiting for this day for over a decade, and his blackness has never been so apparent.
8. Playing one game well doesn't make you a playa. Leaving messages, sexting messages, allowing pictures to be taken ... these are the missteps of a micro-pimp and paperback playa. Tiger obviously went to the Kwame Kilpatrick School of Infidelity. Some women call sexting "cute." In divorce court, they call it "evidence."
9. Tiger Woods probably reads my blog. I say this in my book and wrote a joint on my blog about what to do if a woman attacks you, and among the things I suggested was, even if she follows you, to get out in the open where there could be witnesses and cops can be called. And that may be what Tiger did. Political commentator extraordinaire and fellow Root-er Adam Serwer suggested back in the day the idea that women attack was "misogynist" on its face. Suck it, Chad.
While a pervert gets sentenced for his attempt to single-handedly exterminate black women from the inner-city, the black Coonerati are up in arms over a political cartoon. Welcome to Cleveland.
The big story leading the news all week around my way is about a caricature of local politico Nina Turner depicted as Aunt Jemima in the designated black newspaper, The Call and Post. The issue being debated isn't whether Turner is right or wrong, but whether or not it's racist to call her an Aunt Jemima, suggesting she is something of a white accomadationist. Meanwhile, back off the corner, a pervert gets sentenced for his attempt to single-handedly exterminate black women from the inner-city, And the black Coonerati are up in arms over a political cartoon.
Welcome to Cleveland.
For those of you who don't know--and why would you? -- The Call and Post used to be called the Blood and Guts by many, known more as guide to Who Shot Bootney In The Foot? than a reliable newspaper of any stripe. The kind of paper that spelled George Bush's name wrong above the fold, and the ink came out in your hands. Where stories would be continued on page 33, and most often, there was no page 33. Like that. For years. Some time ago, boxing promoter Don King bought the newspaper, then purchased Microsoft Word, a laptop and a few other 20th Century technological innovations to get the vernarable Post on track, more or less. No disrespect to my folks who work there, but beyond the funny papers and the infamous Nite Out page where you and your jump-off can pose with a snifter of half-price Hennessy at Bigger's Nightclub, the paper is virtually unreadable. Stil. I famously told the former editor John Lenear (RIP) that I wouldn't spank my dog with the Call and Post. That accessment still stands. At least it did, until this cartoon.
The editorial cartoon may be the first cogent commentary in the recent history of this rag. It is, after all, relevant, and the Call and Post has struggled with relevancy for years. But everyone is up in arms about it for the wrong reasons. Whether or not the paper should have called Turner Aunt Jemima, however, is irrelevant, but let's argue about it anyway, right?
This tempest is the kind of black on black coonage white media loves -- loves to see high-falootant Darkies argue over that which does not matter. Because in the meantime the third most undereducated city in America is like Pompeii in the last days -- everyone is packing up and moving to the suburbs en masse to escape the stench of rotting infrastracuture .... at least.... you HOPE that's what it is.
Is the rendering racist and misogynistic, as the one writer put it? No. It's everything political commentary is supposed to be: pointed, biting and provacative. The Call and Post finally has something it has rarely ever had: a point. The editorial writing sucks, but this picture is worth a thousand words. Bravo, I say. Job well done. Everything does not have to be about uplifting Da Race. What about you?
Do you think the Call and Post was out of pocket for calling Nina Turner an Aunt Jemima?
A guide to your future in-laws. You hope.
The actual consuming of food is the easy part of holidays with her peeps. It’s the before and after that’ll get ya, when they are getting to know you…getting to know ALL about you. You are an idiot if you indulge it and an idiot if you dodge out of it. I just tried to keep my mouth full of food, but sooner or later, I have to start talking. Predictably, that’s when things slide downhill.
Entering her people’s house ‘round the holidays feels too much like pulling back the curtain at the old Tonight Show, as you’re expected to wave and smile like Sammy effing Davis Jr., greeting everyone with a wink and a point: Who loves ya, baby? Immediately, you’re called to the couch for chit-chat. WTF? How are you supposed to navigate that?
What you need is a holiday guide to her peeps. And I’m here to help. Don't be concerned about the aunts and cousins. Focus on the parents.
• Moms Mabley—Like the comic laughtress of the chitlin' circuit, every time you see her, she’s effed up but at least entertaining. She cusses up a storm and causes a scene in every restaurant asking for an extra glass of water for her dentures while she gums away on chicken bones. At one time, she was fine and had it all on the ball. But she fell off the horse a few good times and never got back on. Now she’s collecting an SSI check, trying to send you to the store for beer. Moms is sweet as pie. The problem, of course, is that the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree. Her peeps is harmless, cool and a lot of fun to get high with. She’s toothless, too, with a butt as large and flat as a Sony TV. Welcome to your future.
• Independent Mom—Independent Mom has been both Mom and Dad so long, she doesn’t know how to just relax and enjoy parenthood a bit. Granted, being both mama and papa bear is stressful. But if mama wants her daughter to find a man, she needs to back up a little. She’s overbearing and obstructive, feeling a need to approve (never) or disapprove (always) everything. She’s single and keeps company with eight cats and a ferret named Oscar. She has convinced herself that she doesn’t need a man, and her daughter doesn’t either. When you’re dating a woman with a mother like this, the holidays can turn into a battlefield.
• Mr. Mom—Your girl is one of the lucky ones—both of her parents are still together. But between her peeps, Moms wears the pants. Moms is the Deebo of the house, shot-calling everything from what her dad does with his paycheck to when and how he should pee. Your girl looks up to and admires her Moms and hopes you and her can share a love like her parents. Lucky you. Hope you like wearing an apron.
• Sergeant Dad—Dad may or may not have any military experience, but he demands that military bearing from his children and his household. Which would be right on point except for the fact that he wants to put you under his thumb. too. He wants to run his house and your house, too. That, you can’t allow.
• Punk Dad—He’s not a man. Just a paycheck, maybe. Product of an Essence makeover, Dad is just a shadow a man, flinching anytime anyone in the house raises their hand too quick, for fear of being slapped around. Even Sprinkles the house cat has her father in check. Your girl says you could learn a lot from him. NOT.
• My Pal Dad—Pal Dad is a rare find, indeed. See, Dad used to be you when he was young. He knows the game, knows all the rules, and he keeps it gully: stays out your business, doesn’t take sides in arguments and loans you money to help with the bill when you need it with real reasonable terms. Prides himself on his ability to stay out of your business. NICE.
• Ghost Dad—Ghost Dad is a picture on the mantelpiece or a family photo album—he isn’t around and has never been around. Her mother rarely speaks of him, but your girl wishes on his name: wishes she knew him, wishes she could call him—wishing she’d ever spoken with him. This is when she may need your shoulder to cry on. Be there.
Naturally, these are extremes. Chances are better her people are as normal as yours ... which is to say...um... well...
Heather Ellis is not being tried for cutting in line at Walmart. That's not accurate. Heather Ellis is being tried for allegedly assaulting two police officers. Sometimes when you are wrong, you buy a ticket to a ride you have to stay on 'til the end. Heather Ellis needs to take a big girl pill, ride that ride alone, and we need to let a court sort that out.
People that know me will tell you I love a good media-manufactured brouhaha as much as the next media meatball, but the tempest behind the Heather Ellis case, with calls for you to take a day off your good job and go march or whatever, has come to a boil today. The Internet is outraged at the audacity of this latest racial injustice.
So that means it's time for me to jump in the fray.
As the story goes, preacher's daughter and med-school prospect Heather Ellis cut in line at a Walmart somewheres in Missouri to join her cousin to make a few purchases, and was rebuffed by others in line as well as the cashier. Police were called, Ellis was arrested and could be facing between three and 15 years in prison. Oh, by the way—she is also alleged to have assaulted two police officers during the fracas.
I'm sorry—did I bury the lead?
Yeah, I did.
Colleague and homeboy Money Watkins was on Tom Joyner's radio show discussing the Heather Ellis case with Roland "BeefJerkyGate" Martin in the context of the latest plot by Da White Man to keep down the Da Race. The problem is, Roland thinks it's OK to throw 'bows on the cops. He said "[hitting the cops] was the "C" outcome in an an incident that had an "A, B and C" or somesuch Negro jibberish, like he's putting the knowledge on you. Money noted that Joyner is sponsored by Walmart and seemed reticent to bite the hand that feeds him.
I also think Joyner can peep game—there are not enough facts here by a long-shot for the popes of blackness to don the cape, and cowl and ride.
Money Watkins expected you, Joyner, Michael Baisden, Nipsey Russell and all truly black people to mount up and join him in some protest on the stairs of the halls of justice today, but slow down, Jim Shoe. Before you spend your good money on T-shirts and mixtapes, pump your brakes and let me put some game in your ear.
Internet activism is almost always suspect because everyone has an opinion, but rarely does anyone have full possession of the facts. Ever. When six troubled young black men were going to be over-sentenced for assaulting another student, it somehow got connected to the fact that someone hung a noose on a tree. These facts were not in anyway related, but it made for sexy subject lines and blog-fodder for all the usual suspects to exploit and hop on board for their close-up. Back at the ranch, the boys are on BET throwing up faux-gang signs and on MySpace with mouthfuls of your donated money. For all the marching and lofty talk, today, those boys are still effed up in the game. I told Tom to his face: It don't matter that you use the radio and Internet to rally folks if everyone is wrong. We can't co-sign everyone just because they are black.
This gets to Heather Ellis.
See, as it happens, it's merely impolite in civilized society to cut in line, but it is illegal to assault a police officer in all 50 states. Still. I know—there's a black man in the White House. But even if you are buddies with B-Rock, you don't have a license to lunch out on the police. Sorry. Money Watkins is my man, 50-grand, and he knows it. But even the best of us get it wrong sometimes. This could be such a time. Heather Ellis may be a preacher's daughter with no previous record. But if witness reports are to be believed, she's not that innocent.
Heather Ellis is not being tried for cutting in line at Walmart. It's a sexy, Gina Macauley-esque header, but it isn't accurate. Heather Ellis is being tried for allegedly assaulting two police officers. A plus B don't equal C, or whatever math SuperDome would have you trying to figure. Whatever the police reaction—Ellis may have been wrong right out the gate. Sometimes when you are wrong, you buy a ticket to a ride you have to stay on 'til the end. Ellis needs to ride that ride alone, and we need to let a court sort that out. If every black person would just try keep their own nose clean, we'd put the Al and Jesse out of business.
Everything is not about race, and when you go hard on Da White Man and the truth comes out in the rinse, it'll make it harder to get at him when he's actually effing up.
You might have a hard time getting into a community college -- not because of your scores, but because there might not be room. How many of you have gone back to college, or how many of you are on your way?
There used to be a time when you could crap out of high school, get a job at the local factory and bring home some really decent cheese. Then came a time when a college degree was your entree into the midldle class and all that it had to offer.
Now, they want you to have a graduate degree to brew coffee, Holmes.
"Finding yourself" is no longer as sexy as it used to be. You need to find yourself a classroom to sit in, and those opportunities are drying up. A lot of people are out of work and hiding out in grad school or going back to college to finish or re-up. You might have a hard time getting into a community college -- not because of your scores, but because there might not be room. How many of you have gone back to college or how many of you are on your way? Are trade schools viable alternatives to universities?