If Stanley Crouch understands it, why doesn’t anyone else?

With a huge Hat/Tip to Booker Rising

I don’t always agree with Stanley Crouch, but to deny his ability to turn a phrase and his passion for his people is to cheat yourself.

With this gem, he has returned to my radar with a vengeance.

Americans have longed for the purification ritual that they feel in Obama’s campaign because it faces what they feel is wrong with this country. An important part of this purification ritual is the presentation of an American history that is common to us all.

When Obama links the 13 Colonies fighting the Revolutionary War to the abolition movement against slavery, and that to Abraham Lincoln and the Civil War, and that to women getting the vote and unions being able to represent workers, and that to defeating Hitler and European fascism during World War II, and that fight to the Civil Rights struggle in which black and white people, some young, some not, brought this country much closer to its democratic destiny, Americans feel both purified and closer to each other.

That is what no presidential candidate has been able to do in many, many years: make people FEEL that e pluribus unum is not only alive and well, but is the foundation of the strategy that will get us out of our messes.

 

Now bear in mind that there is a certain amount of denial and latent white privilege that must be dealt with underneath all that truth, but the substance of it is real.  And personally, I hold out hope that, as president, Obama can start to pull back the covers on that kind of thing.

Day Sixteen of Black History Month: The importance of Fried Chicken

So, I was getting my Google Reader on and reading my new addition, Stuffblackpeoplelove.com when I came across a lament that the author was afraid to discuss things that Black people love that would be classified as stereotypical.

Well, Guess what.

I LOVE FRIED CHICKEN.

I wouldn’t marry a woman who was incapable of frying chicken. I believe, history of hypertension in my family notwithstanding, that chicken was MEANT to be fried.

With the skin on.

I remember my mother washing the chicken off, burning the hairs(?) off of the chicken wings using the bare gas burner and then soaking it in Cold Salt Water in a green Tupperware bowl.

Was it complicated? No.

Was it EASY? Hecky Naw.

If the oil is too hot, then the outside will cook too fast and the inside won’t be cooked all the way through (and you KNOW we cannot have that)

Now, am I advocating the wholesale frying of every meal? Certainly not.

I am merely acknowledging that I was born and raised on Fried Chicken.

2-3 days a week, My mother pulled out X pieces of Chicken (usually enough to feed us for two days) . There were days where we had fried chicken everyday for a week with a menagerie of starches and sides.

Occasionally the chicken would get baked or barbecued, but mostly, it got fried.

Just sitting here typing this makes me nostalgic for the smell of Chicken.

And it wasn’t just at home.

Many a gleaming church structure was built on the backs of stout Black Women and their yardbird.

Many a College Education was paid for by scholarship dinners that featured the finest in Fried Chicken.

Many a long road trip South (or North) was made affordable by Tupperware bowls full of fried chicken in a cooler to avoid stops to eat on the way.

Going to the Drive-In? Fried Chicken?

AM Munchies after a long night at the club? Cold Fried Chicken?

Cold Fried Chicken makes Cold Pizza simply unacceptable.

Oh, and DO.NOT.REHEAT.FRIED CHICKEN.IN.THE.MICROWAVE.

It is a vital part of my personal Culture and I am NOT Ashamed.

Oh wait…

I love chicken, but this shit here is uncalled for. Stop that right now.

—————-
Now playing: Who Stole My Last Piece of Chicken (Remix) - Organized Konfusion
via FoxyTunes

The only Comparison I will ever make between Barack Obama and Snoop Dogg

The charges of Barack Obama being a Plagiarist immediately reminded me of the similarity between Barack and one Calvin Broadus.

And the part of Doug E. Fresh will be played by David Axelrod.

Floyd Mayweather needs a hobby.

So, apparently Floyd Mayweather has too much time on his hands.  Perhaps he can take up Catering.  That Two piece smelled so good to Big Show (yes I watch wrestling occasionally) that his nose started to bleed.

Day Fifteen of Black History Month: Grunt Work

While my comrades in the 32 Days of Black History Month are over there posting up all manner of Magnificence, I was apronned up, slinging around food for gratuity. I used to be slightly embarrassed, to have gone from medium range Capitol Hill Peon to full time waiter in just a few years, but my reality is far more complicated than that. My reality is that I am a professional. A highly skilled and reasonably compensated professional at that. I defy any of you who dine out with any regularity to search your memory bank and not have at least ONE subpar dining experience within the last 30 to 45 days. Combine that with the fact that I make slightly less than Mrs. Ink the Pedagogue (a crime in and of itself) and you have what makes for a fairly decent way to make a living.

It was my return to the restaurant plantation that prevented me from being as prolific as I had enjoyed during my time recuperating. Now that I am back in the flow, I will do my best to get caught up.

In that spirit, I would like to honor A. Philip Randolph, civil rights activist and labor organizer, who devoted his life to representing those who serve for a living.

(here is a link to the enire Conversation with Mr.Randolph)

“Justice is never given; it is exacted and the struggle must be continuous for freedom is never a final fact, but a continuing evolving process to higher and higher levels of human, social, economic, political and religious relationship.” (Randolph)