Wordless Wednesday -- Laziness

This video is an advertisement for some sort of health company in Canada.

The first minute and a half are hilarious. People can be so lazy and so needy and helpless.

Can you hear the color of my tears?

Excellent poem by my 2nd mother. Reflects so much about the election, the inauguration, the times we are in, being a mother, being a Nigerian American.

Love her and my 2nd set of siblings.

CAN YOU HEAR THE COLOR OF MY TEARS?

A poem
by
Dr. Gloria Bilaye-Benibo

Can you hear my tears?
No, not my cry! But my constant silent tears
The tears of this African woman
Whose children, like you were born
Not on the soil of their father’s native land
But the soil of their father’s educational voyage
Soil brutally scared by the thorns of slavery
Try to hear my tears
As my beautiful young daughters carried on their tiny shoulders
The weight of being the children of African immigrant parents
Aware that their experiences were different from other children’s
They were neither truly African Nor American

Can your hear the color of my tears?
As I proudly welcome my first son
Into a world full of hope and promises
On same day as President Reagan’s birthday
It was a sign: He will some day be the President of America
Filled with joy and happiness I appropriately named him
To reflect the core of my emotions
And so I raised him to be Godly, respectful and smart
But can you hear my tears-silent and deafening!
As his friends made fun of him and called him names
Names like ‘African-booty-scratcher’ and other too awful to pen
As he realized that his heritage was also his biggest barrier

Can you hear the color of these tears?
As years later I welcomed yet another son
Born at such a time perfect time when things were looking up
And once again I named him to reflect the emotions of his birth
Now surely I can better provide for him
His will be much better experience in a different place
Like his siblings, I raised him to be Godly, proud and studious
But can you hear tears?
As I saw the pain on my baby boy’s face
As he came to realize that the dream was just a dream
African American meant a heritage that is so sweet and yet so bitter
A heritage marked by pride and rejection

Can you hear my tears
As my tired feet carried me into my house
As I hear the now familiar CNN election breaking news jingle
I looked up at the TV screen
And saw a smiling face much like my own sons
Barack Obama- Democratic Presidential Nominee
Please say you can hear my loud tears
As I gently touched my kitchen counter and
And stared into the face of my baby boy
And muttered to no one in particular
He did it! He actually did it!
My God! He did it!

Can you hear my tears?
As I fell on the floor of my bedroom
On that memorable November fourth night
Heart-pounding, I read the words on the TV screen
President-Elect Barack Obama!
You couldn’t hear my tears?
As the drops, now familiar with my hurt and fears rolled down my cheeks
As each drop ballooned with my pride
Until the last drop escaped
And was carried into the dark November sky
But quickly came back down to my soil thirsty for hope
And watered the future for my own children

Can you hear my tears?
Like so many mothers of race and voyage
Like so many mothers of daughters and sons
Yes children who look just like you
But children who never dared to dream
Please hear my tears as I mumble your name over and over
Barack Obama! Barack Obama!
Like you, my children’s names were strange
Like you, they were suspected before they were accepted
Like you, they were distrusted before they were trusted
Like you…So much like you….
Can they dare to dream?

Can you hear my very colorful loud tears
And freeze the moment in history
As I watch you place your hand on the mighty word of God
And yet again I read the words on the TV screen
President Barack Obama!
Listen…I am sure you hear my tears
As I stand a little bit taller
As I shout into the quiet street in my beautiful neighborhood
Yes they can! Yes they now can!
Yes they most certainly can!
Yes! They can now call proudly and truly themselves
African.
American.
Can you hear my tears?
-Dr. G. Tamunoibim Bilaye-Benibo

Five times the fears, almost zero times the help

Why have this family not received as much help as others who have multiple children in one birth?

Could it be because they are brown? Because they are foreign? Because they are from a distressed area of the world?

I don't know.

I hope that Oprah, or TLC, or some diaper companies, or some scholarship funds, or some food companies, or just some regular Joes and Bumquishas step up and help them the way people have helped people like the Duggars and John and Kate + 8. They need help just as much.

Ain't gonna hurt nobody... we just dancin' y'all

I used to be pretty good at determining someone's age. As I've gotten older, it's gotten harder. I guess because people age differently. Yesterday during lunch, the guy in the classroom across the hall said his age at lunch and I almost spat out my food. He is the same age as me, but I totally thought he was at least 6-7 years older than me. Now I can't stop looking at him and wondering why he looks so old.

When I was younger there were always television shows where young adults would play high schoolers. One of the worst was the grown-ass woman who played the newspaper dork Andrea Zuckerman on the original 90210 - Gabrielle Carteris. She and Dylan McKay (Luke Perry) looked like they could be parents or at least teachers of some of the other cast members.

The other day on the radio they were doing their daily trivia contest while I drove home. One of the questions asked which group Kid n' Play were back up dancers for before they made it big on their own. I didn't and still am not sure of the answer.

But thinking of them made me do some trying to find out what they are up to these days.

They came out with the first House Party movie in 1990.

I'm pretty sure the movie was set in high school. Christopher Reid ("Kid" -- the one with the 6"-high-no-fade-hi-top box) was 26 in the first flick. Christopher Martin ("Play" -- the one almost always in the 8-ball jackets) was 28.

What the hell?!

I feel duped. I wonder if I'm the only one. I thought they were truly young. But I guess that is no better than "The Golden Girls" with Estelle Getty (Sophia -- Dorothy's mother) being younger than several of her costars.

Here's a treat for you -- some video of the crew dancing. Please check out not only the main character's dancing and clothes, but also the guy wearing orange behind the ladies with the blondish tall box.



And Robbin Harris (RIP) was hilarious in this and all his movies.

Notorious, christmas story, farewell

Word on the street is that some theatres in some parts of the nation will not be showing the film "Notorious" after 10 pm. Their reason? Because it may lead to violence.

Because there are no other things in this world that have led to violence. This movie is the only thing that will lead people to commit violent acts against others. Don't worry about all the past movies that have been shown or are currently being shown in movies. THIS is the one that will lead to everyone going into the streets and having huge riots.

I guess all the people in Israel got the bootleg copy early and that is why they have been fighting and using banned weapons like white phosphorous.

In other news, when I was younger (shoot, even this Christmas) I loved watching "A Christmas Story". Thought it was hilarious when the kid got his tongue frozen stuck to the pole during recess. I always wondered if real people ever did that stuff.

Apparently they do.

My brother's reaction was awesome: "Modern times mean we'll continue to see this. In the old days of Darwinism, a saber-toothed tiger would have killed him while he was stuck to the pole - thereby preventing him from finding a mate and passing on his stupidity to offspring."

By the way -- only 4 more days of insane presidency.

I am pessimistically hopeful about what could possibly happen in the coming term.

Unintentional vacation

I was just joking (kind of) when I was trying to figure out how to make it so that my work week would be just three days like it was last week.

No, we did not get off for the cold today, even though it is literally 8 degrees as I write this. I'm sure the wind chill is still below zero.

Instead, I was somehow able to inflict a horrific injury on myself in my half-sleeping state.

I tend to wake up before my alarm every day, look at it and see just how much longer I have to go back to sleep. I then go back to sleep for those last 20 or so minutes and awaken to the cell phone alarm. Yesterday morning I woke up and some how turned over to reach for the phone and wound up poking myself in the eye. But it was more than the ordinary poke. I believe it was Ralph on the Simpson's who said, "It feels like... burning!"

I tried to lay back in bed and let the pain cease but that didn't work. I then got up to look in the mirror. Saw what looked like a cut on my eye. Went to look on the internet to see what to do if you scratch your eye. All the while the burning is incredible. I then remembered that I was supposed to teach at school that day. Still early enough to call in sick. So I did.

Unfortunately I still have to go to the school to get sub plans ready. So I went the 30 minutes to the school, spent over an hour writing the stuff, with intermittent moments where my eye burned so bad that I thought it would be better to pull it out like this guy did -- though I wouldn't have been able to eat it. I imagine the vitreous fluid would not feel good as it squirted onto my tongue.

Called a bunch of doctors who were not opened yet by 8:30. Ended up going to eye doctor in a local hospital. They put some yellow drop in my eye that made it easier to see how big the cut was. It was about a fourth of my iris. Crazy. I guess I should have trimmed my nails this past weekend like I had wanted to.

After the doc put the protective cover on my eye, it was much better. Only annoyance after that was having to put eye drops in every two hours. But to keep my vision, I'm cool with that.

Tomorrow is a PD day, so no teaching of students.

I succeeded, unintentionally of working just three days this week.

Next week - Martin Luther King holiday on Monday, so just four days of work. January is looking nice.

Worldless Wednesday: Popping battle

Sometimes you just want to see four people moving in ways that you can't possibly do yourself.

Knowing is half the battle

Today I was sitting talking with some one and at the end of whatever they were telling me they said, "And now you know."

Of course, my response was, "And knowing is half the battle."

Did any one else love the PSAs that used to come on during the cartoon G.I. Joe back in the day?

Here are a few of the life lessons in case you missed out.



In case you wanted to play hide-and-seek in some strange places, here's one for you:


If you like soldiers in tight clothes, here's one for you:


"There's nothing chicken about being smart":


In recognition of Olly Olly Oxen Free's latest blog post here's on on dogs:


If you go to youtube you can see some kind of funny parodies of these old PSAs, too.