Is it me or is there a commercial advertising a pill for every ailment under the sun now? Drug companies must be making out like bandits. Got a problem? Take a pill. Pump a spray. Legs won't stop moving? Skin won't stop itching? Eyes won't stop blinking? I mean the list seems endless. If you’ve ever been up after 11pm, you know what I mean.
 
I'm not saying these conditions don't really exist. Honestly, I'm quite sure most of them do. I just don't want to hear about every single one of them during the midnight showing of Law & Order: SVU. (I don't know about you but THAT IS MY SHOW! Talk about good TV.) J  The human body is on its way out from the moment it comes in so I can believe that all kinds of stuff can go wrong. But first, I do not want to hear about them all. I mean, can we pick like the top three of the year or something? (They could do an "Illnesses Awards" show. The top three illnesses of the year are nominated and get to do commercials. Then the winner gets the top commercial spot at the Super Bowl or something and all the proceeds go to help people with that illness. Wouldn't that be cool?!!?) And second, I'm not sure the "just take a pill for it" approach is the best answer.

I've got a tendon in my right foot that I injured years ago while learning to drive a stick shift. (Yes, that's right; I tore a tendon learning to drive. You can stop laughing now.) To this day, anytime I walk more than 30 minutes it blows up and my foot looks like someone shoved a banana up the side of it. It hurts like hell afterwards and takes hours for me to be able to walk again without pain. But I don't want to take a little blue pill twice a day for the rest of my life to treat "swollen right foot tendon syndrome," or SRFTS. J So instead, I try not to overdo it when I walk. I wear the right kind of shoes. I get off my feet as soon as I can when I'm done. And I live with whatever pain comes with a torn tendon.

A couple of you with some pretty serious ailments are probably mad at me right about…now. Your pain is something you can't simply live with. And no amount of proactive preparation seems to ease it for you, right? See, I get it. And I believe you. I'm just questioning how quick we are sometimes to look for the answer that puts billions of dollars in the drug companies’ pockets and keeps us permanently dependent on a pill or a spray. If I'm totally honest, I can admit that I have no idea what a person should do if they have chronic dry eyes. But I do wonder what people were doing to cope with it and other problems back in the day before there was a pill for everything. I mean I remember my grandmother and her heating pads and Epson salts and hot teas with honey that we used to make fun of when we were kids. It took her forever to get ready for bed but she swore it cured whatever she thought she had and let her sleep.

Anyway, whatever the answer is, I know one thing. Those commercials are putting some very suspicious thoughts in my head. Now I'm lying in bed at night wondering if my legs are restless because a muscle jumped. I can't get to sleep for worrying if I'm coming down with some incurable disease that's eventually gonna kill me because the skin on my knee looks a little too ashy. I don't need that in my life, for real. So please drug companies, cut back on the pill-popping ads. Do it for me. Do it for all of us worrywarts calling our doctors at 3am with "torn cuticle syndrome" or TCS. (Hey, that could be a real problem. You don't know.) J

Tell me what you think. ‘Til next time…

   “LeBron-Gisele Vogue cover draws criticism.” – MSN.com

I would say that I have no words for this ridiculousness but that, of course, would be a lie since I’m a writer and I always have words. This is a classic case of “I just don’t care that much.” I mean, really. Are black people still so naïve as to be shocked and awed by a potentially racist magazine cover? Show of hands…who was shocked? None? Ok, good. Now who was surprised? None again? Ok, good.

I think Chris Rock put it best when he said, and I'm paraphrasing, that though we live in the best country in the world, its not without its obvious and everlasting flaws. The USA is like that uncle that payed your full college tuition but took advantage of you as a child. You may want him to foot the bill. Hey, it’s the least he could do, right? On the other hand, you may not want to have anything to do with him for what he did to you. You don’t want a nickel of his money and you’ll probably spend the rest of your days either hating him or steering clear of him. Personally, I get them both.

For as long as we are human and as long as America has the history it has, we will always be faced with racism or supposed racism. Why are we still so surprised and unnecessarily angered by this mess? Some white people are still racist, big whoop. And I know what some of you are thinking…we should be outraged by racism in any and all forms, right? Wrong. We have a tendency to find something racist, get all up in arms, fuss and yell and scream for a few days, get a couple hours TV coverage, and then move on to the next thing that angers us. That kind of anger means nothing and does nothing. We are so quick to fly into a state of despair over every little indiscretion of the “white man” but we don’t actually want to do anything about it. Is any black person with a Vogue subscription going to cancel it and write a letter to the editor because of this? Is any black person that is employed by Vogue going to quit or even go on strike and denounce this cover publicly? Is any black organization, going to pull together a nationwide boycott of Vogue until the cover is taken off the stands and replaced with a cover a little less “King Kong?” No, no, and no.

Naw, we just want to be mad about stuff, pretend to be these pseudo-revolutionary, civil-rights activists, but we are nothing. So when my daughter asks me why people are making such a fuss about this cover, I’ll tell her what I normally do in times like these. “I guess that’s what you do when you’re bored.”

Anyway, tell me what you think. Til next time…

Honestly, my problem with celebrities is celebrities. Although I really don’t blame them. Many really believe their lives are more important to us than they actually are. But its our own fault. We put them and everything we think they stand for on some rarely obtainable pedestal.

I’ll give you an example. I was telling a friend about my desire to become a writer. And one of the first things he said was if I could get on the Oprah Show I’d be set for life, a true blue success. Really? Why is my success determined by getting on the Oprah Show? I mean I know why; its about the dollar, dollar bill y’all. If I get on TV that means being seen by the public, selling hundreds of thousands of whatever I’m peddling, moving into some grotesquely huge house and owning cars simply for the sake of being seen owning cars. And sure, I’ve fallen for that ideal tons of times. But we all know that’s crap (pure “pigeon pooping on your shoulder as you get out of the car” crap). So when I am tempted to consider myself a failure, I remember that true success is measured not by my public life but by my private behavior.

That’s not what we as a public do, however. We measure celebrities’ success by their public lives, their outward appearances, their houses and cars and interviews on the red carpet. We actually care what kind of bed they sleep in, what kind of stove they cook their burgers on, what kind of pool they put in their livingroom but never swim in. And then we pine away longing to be just like them. But what about what they do behind closed doors? How do they behave those few, rare moments when no one is watching? How do they treat the man who cleans their pool or the salesmen who sold them their stove? I’ve never witnessed it for myself but I can pretty much guarantee you that they act a fool just like everybody else. And I won’t mention any names but I think its about time we see celebrities for what they really are, regular people with a lot of money and attention who are just as bored as the rest of us. One day we’re going to get up off our lazy badunkadunks and decide to determine what we believe makes us a success for real.

Am I not successful if I live a joyful and spontaneous existence free of strife and regret? Am I not a success if I never own a five bedroom mansion or a Bentley but possess a house full of peace and a heart full of love? (and yes, I’m being corny, but you get my point) I just don’t care that much about being seen as some public, instant success story if my family and my children are falling apart. When do we grow the bolts enough to say that no amount of success is worth that? My family is seriously financially challenged (you like my political correctness? ) but I’ll be a monkey’s uncle if I spend another waking minute chasing “the American dream” of money, power, and success. And yes, I do believe one day I'll be raking in the dough but my success will have come long before that.

And you can believe that…

Celebrities (and I say that as blandly as possitble). I wouldn’t dare spend a lot of time talking about celebrities because that would defeat the whole point: I don’t want to hear anymore about celebrities! I really just don’t care that much. I want to listen to their music, watch their movies or TV shows, attend their sporting events, and then get on with my day. Is that too much to ask? I don’t think so. I mean, dude, I’ve even heard celebrities say they are sick of celebrities. And when your own kind turn on you, you know there’s a problem.

So for the next couple of days let's talk about just a few rich and famous topics I just don’t want to hear about anymore...


He's not exactly a tv celebrity but he's rich and famous. And since the topic is getting on my nerves, here goes...Mr. Spitszer. All I Can say is...so...what? Isn’t prostitution called the oldest profession? Why is this such big news? I mean who is actually surprised? It’s like, “Oh my god, rich men sleep with prostitutes? I didn’t know that!!” (please) Rich, powerful men sleep with prostitutes. Poor, powerless men sleep with prostitutes. What’s the common denominator? Men sleep with prostitutes.

Besides, the list of rich men who sleep with prostitutes SHOULD be long. What else do they have to do? (Let’s see…wake up at 9am, take over another company, lay-off tons of folks. It’s 10am. Time to commit adultery and sleep with a prostitute using thousands of taxpayer dollars.) And now of course that its been discovered that he hooks up with hos, everyone wants to expose his shady business practices. Hello! That’s what I’ve been saying. If you’ll betray your wife, you’ll betray anybody. Anway, he’s out, some other rich, powerful man is in. Let’s keep it moving…

Tell me what you think. Or what other celeb topic you're tired of hearing about.

While driving to the movies one uneventful afternoon, my husband Ruben began asking me a series of questions. Honestly, I don’t actually remember what he was talking about. Somebody did something about something for some reason. I don’t know. He was just babbling. Anyway , while I sat half-listening and then trying desperately to formulate some kind of intelligent response, I realized something very important: whatever he was talking about, I just didn’t care that much! Now trust me when I say that my husband is my best-friend. We talk all the time (and I mean aaaaaaaaaaall the time). If he has something to say, anything at all, it is important to me. But sometimes the topics of conversation he chooses are…how shall I put it? Uninteresting? Boring? Whack? Yeah, that covers it. And I find myself totally unable to form an opinion or even a response because I really have no interest in what he’s talking about. But I listen anyway (or I try). Before all the angry black men begin rioting in the streets, let me be honest and say that I am often afflicted with the same incessant need to ramble on about topics and ideas that are so meaningless that Ruben would rather cut off his own ears with a dull blade than listen. But like the wonderful husband that he is, he listens anyway. Often with the appropriate, standard, Chris Rock coined responses: “What?” “For Real?” “You don’t say.” “I told you that woman was crazy!” If you look closely however, you can read the truth as it flickers ever so quickly across his eyes…He does not care. That afternoon, as I attempted to keep from laughing at the absurdity of the situation, I decided that I should and would write it down. I’d write down just a few of the things I didn’t care that much about and hopefully gain some perspective in the process. And hey, maybe I’d find a few people who agreed. If not, then at least I’d get to say it. Besides, don’t they say purging is good for the soul? I don’t know who “they” are, but they say it. This blog was not written to change anybody’s life or be mind-blowing in any way. So if you’re looking for some pseudo-psycho-babble that will fix all your problems, let me save you the trouble and tell you that this ain’t it, so feel free to move along (or email it to someone who’d enjoy an interesting read). But, if you’ve ever felt like screaming sometimes at the overwhelming amount of junk you have to ignore daily just to focus on your life, then come along for the ride. I promise it’ll be short and sweet. You won’t have to tell anyone you spent all day reading this…unless you just want to. Now all that junk will still be there when you’re done. (Hey, I’m no magician.) And I might even remind you of some things you forgot you were ignoring. If I do, my bad. Finally, this is my list, my opinion, of some of the stuff I don’t care that much about. I’m in no way speaking for my family, women, black women, black people, poor people, democrats, U.S. citizens, or even Tupac fans, all demographics I belong to. That said, stay tuned and I'll see you next time. Topic? Celebrities...