InkogNegro 2.0

The sun set on today’s festivities with the parade drawing to a close. As a random major state university marching band gave way to a random high school marching band from an even more random state gave way to a random branch of our esteem (and may I hasten to add damned near broken) branch of the armed forces, I found that I had had enough pomp and circumstance and started peering behind the curtain of the elaborate show that had been put on in the interest of flaunting our nation’s seamless transition of power. Upon seeing not a whole hell of a lot other than the usual Event Planning stuff and a whole bunch of money that perhaps could have found a better purpose behind said curtain, I decided to get on with my day and ponder what tomorrow might bring.

I really wonder how much all those millions (and millions, (Johnson, D)) of people thought about what happens AFTER the party was over.

Yeah, you thought the ride here was a long time in coming…It hasn’t even gotten interesting yet.

Let there be NO question, folk.

The Stakes is HIGH. This is not a game where you can slide in one or two chips and think you are going to keep up with the pot. You better ante up like you want to win, or you’re just wasting your own time and everyone elses.

Barack Hussein Obama did not throw the life of three four wonderful Black Women/Girls into absolute turmoil for shits and giggles. He did that because he felt the call to serve this country at a time where CLEARLY we were in desperate need of change(hope, too).

The man sensed that we were ready NOW and jumped in 8-12 years ahead of any reasonable man’s timetable knowing full well the risks that came along with it.

He bet on US, not the other way around.

We need to not let him down.

Party up and sleep soundly folk…tomorrow starts the real work.

This is part of a Guest post series on Womanist Musings.  Kindly follow me over there and follow along with the series

Unravelling the Cliche of Single Parenting

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Through no accident of the cosmos, I found that in burying my maternal grandmother I had witnessed a seamless evolution in our culture before my very eyes.

I was provided with a front row seat in the world of Single Parenting as it has evolved through the latter half of the 20^th century. I have seen it grow from a dirty little secret, to a necessary evil, to a political football, to an acceptable life choice.

Follow along here

There is a big game tonight.  After fiddy-lebbin bowl games of varying importance, profitability, and entertainment value, tonight is what it all comes down to.  Two teams who might as well have been chosen at random have been selected to play for the national championship of Collegiate Sports.

The purpose of such an event is to determine a champion without ambiguity. To have the morning after arrive and everyone focus on the winner as the undisputed champion and everyone else acknowledge where they fell short and look to do better next year. There is a ceremony after the game with a big gaudy trophy and hastily made hats and shirts and NO ONE, except for the usual haters and die-hard fans who worship at the altar of the IfsandButs andShouldaWouldaCoulda gods, questions the result.

No matter what happens tonight, there will be no such finality.

TrojanFan and LonghornFan and even UteFan won’t even wait for the game to be over before announcing how if THEIR team has been screwed…yada yada sis boom bah.

And the season ends…Players go pro to be replaced by new players, the media asks if things will ever change and the College presidents hem and haw about how the system needs to be tweaked. Then before you know it, its time for spring ball and nothing changes.

It’s.never.going.to.change.

College Football is an aristocracy and the status quo MUST be maintained.

A Playoff will enable schools like TCU, Boise, Utah and any other school that catches lightning in a bottle and roll up on one of the Lords of the FBS (Football Bowl Subdivision) and catch them on a neutral field slippin because their bigtime OT was caught talking to an agent in the Hotel gift Shop or some foolishness.

Then the Aristocrats will talk about how HARD the schedules are for the BCS conferences and how easy it is for the midmajors.

But no one will talk about how Aristocrats are too busy either scheduling each other or loading up on home games to bother to chase down a quality midmajor team…to play, much less go to THEIR house. And a to play a local Midmajor in their house? NEVER.

And why should they…they have nothing to gain and everything to lose.

It is the same thing with the BCS. The BCS conferences have NOTHING to gain from a playoff system. That’s why there won’t be one.

It’s serious as cancer.

What the hell isJesse White doing?

Nancy Erickson, the secretary of the Senate, rejected Burris’ appointment on Monday because Burris’ certificate of appointment was missing the signature of Illinois Secretary of State Jesse White, an aide to the secretary said.

Rule 2 of the Standing Rules of the Senate states that the secretary of state must sign the certificate of election along with the governor.

White has declined to sign the certificate, siding with some Senate Democrats who say Burris should not be seated because of the cloud over Blagojevich.

Senate Democrats have said they would not seat Burris because he was appointed by Democratic Illinois Gov. Rod Blagojevich, who is accused of scheming to sell the Senate seat.

The focus of all this Bullshit is on the wrong person.

Someone tell Jesse White to stop Hating and sign the damn appointment so his state can have TWO senators.

I will be shanking Mr. Secretary as soon as I get hold of what his angle is supposed to be.

Funny thing, death.

Even as it marks a definitive and complete end, in many ways, it marks a beginning.

A beginning  of life after death.

Whenever someone close to you dies, at the instantaneous moment, YOUR life begins anew.  The more significant that person is in your life, the more significant the new phase you begin.

You lose a distant uncle of your brother’s baby momma side, not much change to your life.

Lose a parent, a spouse, or a child Your new life becomes unrecognizable.

Then there are those curious situations where you lose someone who is very very important to you, but for various reasons they don’t have the tangible impact on your life that your emotional attachment to them might indicate.

I got a call from my mother that I had been half expecting for several months now.  Grandma went to the hospital and it didn’t look good.

When you reach the ripe old age of ninety, when it doesn’t look good, it really doesn’t look good.

For me, it was about preparing yourself for the transition.

Grandma will be gone, soon, so find out what that means to you asap and start preparing for that reality.

I had about 6 days before my mother called again and told me it was important that  I come now and not wait until her 91st birthday on January 17.  My sons were already there with my mother and many of my cousins had already made the journey from wherever they went to escape our hometown of Pittsburgh back home.

I decided I had better follow suit and get up to Pittsburgh on the quickfast.

of course quickfast ended up being 11:50 PM ET on December 31.

You want to put a fork in New Years?  Get off a plane at ten minutes to New Year’s and then spend 90 minutes waiting for church to let out so you can get picked up.

Once I got home, I realized I had done the right thing.  I was probably the last person who saw Grandma and knew definitively that Grandma saw me back.

Once I brought the kids in the room and we hugged her one more time.  It was a wrap for me.

But then comes the pre-mourn.

The pre-mourn is the period when you try to avoid mourning someone who isn’t actually dead yet.

You kinda treat them as though they have already gone on, but they are right upstairs.

Sorta.

So you wait.  January 1 becomes January 2 and then January 3.  the year has started and the novelty has worn off but you are sitting through bowl games afraid to do anything that remotely resembles celebrating or moving on.  Ive been itching to write about grandma, but I felt like I was putting her in the grave before her time.

I took the boys back to the ex a day early because I didn’t want the kids to be there when the man with the stretcher came.

Once I did that, my blood pressure spiked, I could feel the moment coming.  and at 9:55PM last night, Grandma Ink went home to be with the Lord only two weeks short of 91 years.

Grandma was my other mother, much as grandmas around the world are to children of single parents.

I inherited my random indistinct nose, and my gift to serve people, and  my yellow from her.

She was nice enough to spare all her children and grandchildren the red-hair, and the freckles.

Now that Grandma has left me, I can start the year off.

A little Sad, a Little awed, but a lot relieved.