Tavis Smiley must go.
His calling out Barack Obama about not attending the State of the Black Union during his commentary on the Tom Joyner Morning Show (TJMS) has shown himself to be quite contrary to what many black folks assumed. If you have listened and followed Tavis' career, as I have, you probably thought him to be an intelligent, thought provoking black man that has a genuine concern for African-American concerns. This is how I once saw him.
In 2000 or 2001, I attended the State of the Black Union. I bought Tavis' book and he was nice enough to sign it for me. I told him how much I appreciated his standing with Tom Joyner when they were been threatened with being pulled off the air because of flap from the CompUSA scandal. I remember hearing Tavis' voice crack with emotion over what was being done to his friend. I told Tavis, "Thanks for standing, when it was very hard to stand".
There is no doubt in my mind that Tavis is a good man. Unfortunately, he has lost his way. Tavis' success has started to corrupt him. This is seen very clearly in his mean spirited commentary concerning Obama.
Why is Tavis mad? Here's the quick and dirty version.
1. In 2007, Obama could not attend the Black State of the Union because he was announcing his candidacy for president in another part of Illinois that day.
2. Tavis was upset by this and did little to hide his disappointment to the masses at the State of the Black Union.
3. One of the Panelist that day, Cornell West, made explicit comments denouncing Obama stopping short of calling him an Uncle Tom. In fairness, Obama called Cornell West when he learned of the remarks and they had a fruitful dialog that led to West not only endorsing Obama, but agreeing to help in his campaign.
4. Basically, Obama was thrown under the bus at the State of the Black Union.
5. The 2008 State of the Black Union is scheduled to be in Louisiana in February.
6. Tavis invites all presidential candidates to the State of the Black Union. He only Hillary Clinton agrees to attend.
7. Tavis makes daily commentary disparaging Obama for not attending the State of the Black Union. Visit blackamericaweb.com to hear the commentaries.
8. The Obama camp faxes a letter to Tavis declining the invitation, while simultaneous volunteering his Michelle Obama as his proxy.
Why do I call for a boycott of Tavis Smiley? Why do I suggest you call, write and email the Tom Joyner Morning Show to get his commentaries removed from the show? Why do I call for us to turn our backs on a very intelligent black man that purports to stand for black folk?
Simple: By disparaging Obama, the first genuine African-American candidate for President, Tavis has proven that he has lost his way. He is more concerned about his ego than he is about black folk.
Tavis is a very rich man. He has written several best selling books. He helped get the TJMS of the ground back in 1996. He has done well. He has made his money and I personally wish him well.
Because Tavis could not see past himself at a critical time in our history, he must go. His actions toward Obama were embarrassing and betray the man that we thought he was.
What if some preacher had publicly disparaged Martin Luther King Jr. because he wouldn't come by his church while King and his supporter were marching on Washington. How would you feel about that preacher? Wouldn't you wonder why he couldn't see the significance of what King was trying to do? Wouldn't it anger you that that preacher was disparaging a man like King that was willing to put his own life in jeopardy for the chance of making life better for not just black folk, but for all folk. Wouldn't you dismiss that preacher as an opportunistic fool? You probably wouldn't go to his church and you definitely wouldn't contribute to his ministry.
While Obama is not and will never be what Martin Luther King Jr was. He is marching toward Washington. He is putting his life in jeopardy. Also, unfortunately, he is being disparaged by a preacher for not stopping by his church. Tavis Smiley is that preacher and the State of the Black Union is his church.
For these reasons, we must boycott Tavis. We must not attend the State of the Black Union. We must call for the cancellation of his show on PBS. We must also call for an end to his self serving commentaries on the TJMS.
While these steps may seem drastic, it is what has to be done. No one has the right to stand in the way of progress.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Michael Vick: Role Model.
About a month ago, I began vilifying Michael Vick for his involvement in the dog fighting scandal. To me he represented many things that foster the wrong values in professional sports. He was a very talented and a little cocky. Trouble had followed him over the past years. The Ron Mexico incident and the canabis scented water bottle incident were precursors that exhibited bad judgment by Mr. Vick. I am sick and tired of professional athletes believing themselves to be be above the law and most people. To hell with Michael Vick.
That was how I felt, until I saw Vick's apology on 8/27/2007. Mike said the words that are seldom said by anyone professional or political:
"I take full responsibility for my actions"
Those words added to a sincere apology makes Michael Vick a true role model in my eyes.
I get so tired of scape-goating of personal problems by people in american society. He could have blamed the media, the white man or a vast right wing conspiracy. He did neither. He could have simply read a statement prepared by his attorney. He didn't.
Some will say that Vick's apology is too late. Others will claim that he only apologized to make himself look good to the court. IMHO, it is never too late to apologize. He can apologize all that he wants and he will still be sentenced to prison on December 10 by a Federal Judge. BTW, Federal Judges couldn't care less about how sorry someone is. Their only concern is to come up with an equitable sentencing.
In short, Vick screwed up. Vick apologized. Vick will be going to Jail.
But, because he decided to take responsibility for his actions, he is a role model in my eyes.
That was how I felt, until I saw Vick's apology on 8/27/2007. Mike said the words that are seldom said by anyone professional or political:
"I take full responsibility for my actions"
Those words added to a sincere apology makes Michael Vick a true role model in my eyes.
I get so tired of scape-goating of personal problems by people in american society. He could have blamed the media, the white man or a vast right wing conspiracy. He did neither. He could have simply read a statement prepared by his attorney. He didn't.
Some will say that Vick's apology is too late. Others will claim that he only apologized to make himself look good to the court. IMHO, it is never too late to apologize. He can apologize all that he wants and he will still be sentenced to prison on December 10 by a Federal Judge. BTW, Federal Judges couldn't care less about how sorry someone is. Their only concern is to come up with an equitable sentencing.
In short, Vick screwed up. Vick apologized. Vick will be going to Jail.
But, because he decided to take responsibility for his actions, he is a role model in my eyes.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Lifters, Downers and Statics
I think there are three types of people in your life. They are as follows:
- Lifters
- Downers
- Statics
Lifters are those people who are constantly trying to get you to do better. If you mention your dream to a lifter, they are going to do the best they can can to help you achieve your goal. Upon hearing your goal, lifters immediately start racking their brains for a way to help you achieve your goal. Lifters are excited about your goal, maybe even more excited than you are. Lifters will remind you of your goal every time they see you. Lifters are always in your corner. They are your cheering section.
Downers are the opposite of Lifters. If you mention your dream to a downer, they are going tell you several reason why your goal is wrong or unreachable. Upon hearing your goal, Downers are amused by your naive optimism. When a downer sees you fail, you are confirming their opinions on life. Downers can tell you all the things you are doing wrong. Downers secretly enjoy your suffering and failures.
Statics are those people who require nothing from you except your friendship. Statics are unphased when you tell them your goals. Statics realize that people say a lot of things, but rarely do people do the things that they say they are going to do. Statics are happy when you succeed and are sad when you fail. Statics accept you for who you are regardless of what you do. Statics appear to be emotionally distant, but care deeply in their own little way.
I learned recently that I was a Lifter. What are you?
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Unlikely Angels
On Sunday May 27, 2007, I was driving my 1997 Ford Explorer from Columbia, MD to Flower Mound, TX. I had been driving for about 3 ½ hours when I noticed that my battery light was illuminated. Suddenly I didn’t have any power steering. I immediately pulled off the highway and drove into a Shell station in Roanoke, VA.
I popped the hood of my car and saw immediately that the fan belt was loose. I pulled the fan belt in an attempt to see how loose it was and the whole belt came out of the car. This was the belt that operated my power steering pump, alternator and water pump. I immediately went into the shell station and asked for a phone book so that I could find a mechanic. The attendant said that it was useless because all of the mechanics in town were closed on Sunday. Since Monday was Memorial Day, I quickly realized that I was going to be stuck in Roanoke, VA until Tuesday! I exited the Shell Station and went back to my car to try and figure a way to get this fan belt on the car.
As soon as I got back to my car, a beat-up pickup truck pulled into the station. Two white men jumped out of the car and walked right up to my car and looked into the engine compartment.
“Looks, like you done lost your tensioner pulley”, said the older man. He looked to be about 60 years old. He had on dirty clothes, a worn baseball cap and had about four or five front teeth. We’ll call him ‘Pa’!
Suddenly, the younger man lay on the ground and began searching under my car. This guy was in his early twenties and was sporting a goatie, several tattoos and a mullet.
“Found it!” he screamed as he crawled from under the car holding what turned out to be my tensioner pulley.
“Cleatus, get my cell phone out da truck”, commanded the Pa.
Obediently, Cleatus retrieved the Pa’s phones and gave it to him.
Pa called some number and began to give the make and model of my car to what I assumed was a parts store.
"Where you coming from?" said Cleatus.
"Maryland", I said out of instinct more than anything.
"Well, this car ain't making it back to Maryland", Cleatus said knowingly.
Just then, Pa closed his flip phone and said “Parts gonna run you about $50. It’ll cost you bout $200 to get’er fixed”.
I must have agreed because Cleatus told me that they lived about a quarter mile down the hill and that I should follow them to their house because my car should make it there with no problem.
I got into my car and began to follow Pa and Cleatus. During the short ride, I called my wife, Monica, and left her voicemail message detailing the situation (as well as the license number of Pa and Cleatus’ truck).
Pa and Cleatus took a left off the main road into a trailer park. (I am not making this up) I continued to follow them to what I assumed was their “house” and parked in the front yard. Shortly after arriving, two women came out the trailer. I would learn that the large woman in the housecoat with missing sleeves was Pa’s wife. The other younger woman, who was not a stranger to piercings, eyeliner and mascara, was Pa’s daughter.
I popped the hood of my car and immediately saw green radiator fluid shooting out of the overflow container. Cleatus was right. I wouldn't have made it home in my car.
I stepped out of my car and took in my surroundings. There was an assortment of single-wide and double wide trailers, seemingly strewn across the bumpy landscape. There were several late model cars in various states of repair. There were quite a few confederate flags hung on many trailers.
Confederate Flags. The Confederate Flag is a very controversial symbol in American history. To some, it is a banner of southern pride. To others it is a symbol of rebellion against the government. Still to others, like me, it is a banner of hatred toward blacks and any other non-white group.
Now to those who don’t know me, I am a black man. Now, I’m not a Daryl “The Rock” Johnson or Barack Obama type black man. At a glance, you might not know immediately that these men are black. No one has ever looked at me and thought, you know he might be black.
I began to think. “Well, James. It’s been a pretty good life. You married a good woman. You got two great boys. The insurance money should be enough for Monica and the kids. I wonder if Monica will get remarried.”
“We won’t fit in the truck, so we’re taking the Blazer”, Cleatus said, interrupting my train ot thought.
I followed Cleatus to a late model Chevy Blazer. After removing several appliances and various bits of trash, Cleatus motioned for me to get in.
As Cleatus, Pa and I drove toward a destination that was unknown to me. My cell phone rang. When I answered it, I was greeted by my nearly hysterical wife who was desperately trying to tell me to get to safety as soon as possible. I spoke to her in broken speech in an attempt to calm her down while simultaneously not tipping my hosts in the front seat to how truly worried I was about this situation.
After about four miles of driving, we arrived at an auto supply store. As we walked in, the clerk recognized my hosts and pulled out the auto parts he had been holding for them.
Unfortunately, there was a problem. The tensioner pulley that the clerk had put aside for us did not match the one that had fallen out of my car. The clerk called another clerk and he began punching keys on the computer. Despite this clerk’s best effort, the computer still recommended the WRONG part. Luckily, there was another clerk that began manually searching the inventory. After opening a few boxes, this clerk found the part.
After paying for the parts, we began driving back to the trailer park.
Since we had time, I began to talk to the men about their backgrounds. I would learn that both men had lived their entire lives in Roanoke. Pa told me, in his own words, that he had learnt himself everything he knew about cars. Cleatus was also self taught but added that Pa was much better’n him because he could work on those big ‘ole Mack Trucks.
On the way back we passed a dentist’s office. Pa said that he needed to go to the dentist, but “they want $200 dollars to pull one tooth outta you head”. Pa then turned to me, while driving, and showed me a very loose and dirty front tooth.
“When I was younger, I used to pullem out with plyers, but this one hurts too much!”
When we arrived back at the trailer park, Pa took me on a tour of his estate while Cleatus worked on my car.
Pa owned about 6 late model cars. He proudly showed me each one and told me how little he had paid for them and how he had fixed each one. At the end of the tour, he showed me his most prized possession: A car horn that played Dixie. He said he used to have a car just like that one on the ‘Dukes of Hazzard’. Pa asked me if I remembered this show, which I sheepishly replied, “Yeah, I used to love this show!”
“Finished!”, yelled Cleatus, as we were completing the tour.
I went directly to the car and started it up. My power steering had returned, the car was no longer overheating and the battery life was no longer illuminated.
Pa and Cleatus had fixed my car.
As agreed, I took out my wallet and gave Pa $200. I thanked both men for letting God use them in helping me. I also gave Pa an extra $50 for coming to my rescue as he did.
“You’re a good man, ”, Pa said, “You didn’t have to do that!”
I said, “Hey, just take care of that tooth!”
I left the trailer park and headed for the interstate. I didn’t have any other mechanical failure for the rest of my 1400 mile trip.
I thanked God for sending Pa and Cleatus and for all the other blessing of that trip.
I popped the hood of my car and saw immediately that the fan belt was loose. I pulled the fan belt in an attempt to see how loose it was and the whole belt came out of the car. This was the belt that operated my power steering pump, alternator and water pump. I immediately went into the shell station and asked for a phone book so that I could find a mechanic. The attendant said that it was useless because all of the mechanics in town were closed on Sunday. Since Monday was Memorial Day, I quickly realized that I was going to be stuck in Roanoke, VA until Tuesday! I exited the Shell Station and went back to my car to try and figure a way to get this fan belt on the car.
As soon as I got back to my car, a beat-up pickup truck pulled into the station. Two white men jumped out of the car and walked right up to my car and looked into the engine compartment.
“Looks, like you done lost your tensioner pulley”, said the older man. He looked to be about 60 years old. He had on dirty clothes, a worn baseball cap and had about four or five front teeth. We’ll call him ‘Pa’!
Suddenly, the younger man lay on the ground and began searching under my car. This guy was in his early twenties and was sporting a goatie, several tattoos and a mullet.
“Found it!” he screamed as he crawled from under the car holding what turned out to be my tensioner pulley.
“Cleatus, get my cell phone out da truck”, commanded the Pa.
Obediently, Cleatus retrieved the Pa’s phones and gave it to him.
Pa called some number and began to give the make and model of my car to what I assumed was a parts store.
"Where you coming from?" said Cleatus.
"Maryland", I said out of instinct more than anything.
"Well, this car ain't making it back to Maryland", Cleatus said knowingly.
Just then, Pa closed his flip phone and said “Parts gonna run you about $50. It’ll cost you bout $200 to get’er fixed”.
I must have agreed because Cleatus told me that they lived about a quarter mile down the hill and that I should follow them to their house because my car should make it there with no problem.
I got into my car and began to follow Pa and Cleatus. During the short ride, I called my wife, Monica, and left her voicemail message detailing the situation (as well as the license number of Pa and Cleatus’ truck).
Pa and Cleatus took a left off the main road into a trailer park. (I am not making this up) I continued to follow them to what I assumed was their “house” and parked in the front yard. Shortly after arriving, two women came out the trailer. I would learn that the large woman in the housecoat with missing sleeves was Pa’s wife. The other younger woman, who was not a stranger to piercings, eyeliner and mascara, was Pa’s daughter.
I popped the hood of my car and immediately saw green radiator fluid shooting out of the overflow container. Cleatus was right. I wouldn't have made it home in my car.
I stepped out of my car and took in my surroundings. There was an assortment of single-wide and double wide trailers, seemingly strewn across the bumpy landscape. There were several late model cars in various states of repair. There were quite a few confederate flags hung on many trailers.
Confederate Flags. The Confederate Flag is a very controversial symbol in American history. To some, it is a banner of southern pride. To others it is a symbol of rebellion against the government. Still to others, like me, it is a banner of hatred toward blacks and any other non-white group.
Now to those who don’t know me, I am a black man. Now, I’m not a Daryl “The Rock” Johnson or Barack Obama type black man. At a glance, you might not know immediately that these men are black. No one has ever looked at me and thought, you know he might be black.
I began to think. “Well, James. It’s been a pretty good life. You married a good woman. You got two great boys. The insurance money should be enough for Monica and the kids. I wonder if Monica will get remarried.”
“We won’t fit in the truck, so we’re taking the Blazer”, Cleatus said, interrupting my train ot thought.
I followed Cleatus to a late model Chevy Blazer. After removing several appliances and various bits of trash, Cleatus motioned for me to get in.
As Cleatus, Pa and I drove toward a destination that was unknown to me. My cell phone rang. When I answered it, I was greeted by my nearly hysterical wife who was desperately trying to tell me to get to safety as soon as possible. I spoke to her in broken speech in an attempt to calm her down while simultaneously not tipping my hosts in the front seat to how truly worried I was about this situation.
After about four miles of driving, we arrived at an auto supply store. As we walked in, the clerk recognized my hosts and pulled out the auto parts he had been holding for them.
Unfortunately, there was a problem. The tensioner pulley that the clerk had put aside for us did not match the one that had fallen out of my car. The clerk called another clerk and he began punching keys on the computer. Despite this clerk’s best effort, the computer still recommended the WRONG part. Luckily, there was another clerk that began manually searching the inventory. After opening a few boxes, this clerk found the part.
After paying for the parts, we began driving back to the trailer park.
Since we had time, I began to talk to the men about their backgrounds. I would learn that both men had lived their entire lives in Roanoke. Pa told me, in his own words, that he had learnt himself everything he knew about cars. Cleatus was also self taught but added that Pa was much better’n him because he could work on those big ‘ole Mack Trucks.
On the way back we passed a dentist’s office. Pa said that he needed to go to the dentist, but “they want $200 dollars to pull one tooth outta you head”. Pa then turned to me, while driving, and showed me a very loose and dirty front tooth.
“When I was younger, I used to pullem out with plyers, but this one hurts too much!”
When we arrived back at the trailer park, Pa took me on a tour of his estate while Cleatus worked on my car.
Pa owned about 6 late model cars. He proudly showed me each one and told me how little he had paid for them and how he had fixed each one. At the end of the tour, he showed me his most prized possession: A car horn that played Dixie. He said he used to have a car just like that one on the ‘Dukes of Hazzard’. Pa asked me if I remembered this show, which I sheepishly replied, “Yeah, I used to love this show!”
“Finished!”, yelled Cleatus, as we were completing the tour.
I went directly to the car and started it up. My power steering had returned, the car was no longer overheating and the battery life was no longer illuminated.
Pa and Cleatus had fixed my car.
As agreed, I took out my wallet and gave Pa $200. I thanked both men for letting God use them in helping me. I also gave Pa an extra $50 for coming to my rescue as he did.
“You’re a good man, ”, Pa said, “You didn’t have to do that!”
I said, “Hey, just take care of that tooth!”
I left the trailer park and headed for the interstate. I didn’t have any other mechanical failure for the rest of my 1400 mile trip.
I thanked God for sending Pa and Cleatus and for all the other blessing of that trip.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Welcome to UT
Hello All!
This is my first blog. That is actually quite sad when you consider that I have been in information techonlogy for a very, very long time. I guess, it's "better late than never" or "better late than pregnant". I forget which is right.
Anyway, in an effort to record my thoughts and to stop being so easily pissed off, I thought I would right down my thoughts and converse with others about my opinions.
BTW, I have a lot of opinions. Many of them strong and some of them wrong (sadly). Please express your opinions here.
Do not feel the need to be politically correct. Say whatever you feel. This is an arena of mutual respect. Whereas, we are raised in different homes, cultures, religions etcetera, we will say things that offend each other. So, if someone does offend you, ask for further information and maybe explain why you were offended.
This is my first blog. That is actually quite sad when you consider that I have been in information techonlogy for a very, very long time. I guess, it's "better late than never" or "better late than pregnant". I forget which is right.
Anyway, in an effort to record my thoughts and to stop being so easily pissed off, I thought I would right down my thoughts and converse with others about my opinions.
BTW, I have a lot of opinions. Many of them strong and some of them wrong (sadly). Please express your opinions here.
Do not feel the need to be politically correct. Say whatever you feel. This is an arena of mutual respect. Whereas, we are raised in different homes, cultures, religions etcetera, we will say things that offend each other. So, if someone does offend you, ask for further information and maybe explain why you were offended.
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