The Seat Filler

Looking For Your Daddy Series - Volume 1, Issue 2

Hey y’all! So as I mentioned in the first episode (as it were) of ‘Looking for Your Daddy’ I have been going on lots more dates. The thing about it though is that these dates or should I say the men are nothing, if not haphazard. I’ll hear from them every few weeks, maybe once a month, talking bout “what you doin’ this weekend? Do you wanna… Go to lunch? Dinner? Movies? Out for drinks? Paris for the weekend – ok that last one is only happening in my dreams.

Rarely is there ever any real contact in between these times. If there is, it's a random text. An IM. An email. But they don't know the ins and outs of Rum Punch's real life. What I be going through on the daily. My experiences as a new homeowner. That I love what I do, but this place makes me wanna holla cause apparently my crazy co-worker is allowed to take naps during work hours. That I'm thinking of starting my own business. And so on.

Now Rum Punch is not one to turn down a chance to get out the house for free. And if you want to pay to enjoy my company, or for me to see a movie I been wanting to see, and for me to have some leftovers, well then it don’t make me no never mind. But this behavior has me wondering – do these nigs think they are truly courting me? Is this what’s hot in the streets now? Or to take it to an even more ignant level, wheredeydodatat?

Everywhere. According to Dark and Stormy.

This is how the modern man gets down, she said. They get bored, need someone to talk to, scroll their phone and then hit up 10 women at a time and wait until someone responds. Cool. Again not a problem cause I didn’t have anything planned for [insert whatever night here].

But I guess now that I’m older and allegedly wiser, I recognize that this behavior is some bull followed by that ish. But because I’m wiser, I know not to invest any ample time into this. I don’t have that inner sqqueeaaal when they contact me. I don’t analyze the text messages. I don’t try to crack codes. I don’t wonder, “wait”, hope, for him to call me. And when he does, I’m pleasantly surprised. Lunch is just lunch. Dinner is just dinner. A movie is just a movie. A walk to the car is just a walk to the car. And I just make pleasant conversation, give em some Rum Punch razzle dazzle, take my leftovers and throw up the deuces. Until the day that something else is otherwise communicated.

But I’m torn. In my heart of hearts, I do expect more. At the same time, I’m not really feeling these guys, so I could care less. And clearly they’re not truly feeling me or else they would bring their A game. Or at least like B+ game. This is just lazy. But sometimes I wonder, just for kicks, should I make them step up their game? Should I tell them their overall behavior is wack? Would that make a difference? But on the other side of that coin, if I were feeling them, I would probably kinda meet them halfway. Call them from time to time and make sure they’re breathing too. Heh.

So maybe this is just the game that single people play. Biding our time until something better, what we really want comes along. Filler people. Filler conversations. Filling meals. I mean you've got to do something to cut the loneliness, right? You can only have but so many cats and hobbies. At some point you're going to want to take someone or be taken out. Want to sit across from somebody and share your dreams, thoughts, and ideas. Want to have a semblance of a connection with another person to help you get through this thing called life. It's human nature, no? It's what keeps us connected to the world and helps us be optimistic about the future - well he/she ain't the one, but that must mean I'm that muchcloser to the one. It's become part of the modern day dating two step. It's understood. It's no surprise. Wheredeydodatat? Everywhere. Apparently.

That’s my time y’all! Happy Rum Punch Friday!

definition please?

It all started a month ago, when I came back from my vacay overseas. I found my self rummaging the pages of February's Elle edition with the former jenny from the block ... and the 'Betrayed Wives Club' authored by Mary Gaitskill hit me (pow)with the following:

What is faithfulness anyway?
"Can you be unfaithful to your own feelings and faithful to someone else?"
that's the million dollar question...
Is it faithful to lie in bed night after night with someone you love but no longer desire...?" that's enough, I'll stop right there....
i lied
"Is it faithful to be monogamous if that means deadening your own nature constantly in order to be genitally true to someone love but no longer have physical passion for?"

Time to pour a glass of wine...

I know a huzband who shared in mocking jest infront of his wife "Bellini, the only sin a man committs is bringing home the baby outside of the marriage. Don't bring no extra babies home. Right Bellini?!?" say whaaaaaaaaaaat!

Bellini couldn't entertain no stupid shit like that, and yet his wife clearly does. I won't even tell ya' how I invited the wife to an event downtown one night and instead her huzband shows up high or drunk couldn't tell the difference with a sweet, pretty young thing on his arms nope it wan't the wife either. He thought he saw a ghost when he seen my ass. Yeah ni$$a you ain't worth shyt fo' so! And I betcha ya'a benjamin- sweet, pretty young thing ain't have no clue huzband was a husband married with kids.
Don't ask me how I know, just know that I know!

If we give credence to Gaitskill's musings, perhaps the huzband is being just as he is - unfaithful to his wife and faithful to his feelings. And since I'm playing devil's advocate, can't I lay blame on the wife too. Isn't she a culpable member of this party of foolishness? Because she is technically condoning the shyt?


cheers (thanking the Lawd this isn't my life),

Bellini

Fantasy Dating

Two weeks ago Bellini admitted to watching Buppies, well this week, I am going to admit that I secretly watch "Let's Talk About Pep". I won't repeat, you read right. It wasn't until last week that I figured out why I watch this craziness. I watch it because there is something about four different women getting together and chatting about their different experiences. And no matter how much Kitty from the show makes my skin crawl because she is SO hood, I can't help but watch. It is kind of like the feeling I get when I read everyone's post every week. I am bounding with my girlfriends.


With that in mind ladies, I commence my post this week. Well, you know Courvoisier thought she would give online dating a try... branch out and discover some new circles to run in. It is like playing fantasy dating. You connect online, next comes that phone and you juggle the prospects until one breaks out ahead of the rest. The scores seem to change week by week. Here is the rankings thus far:

1. Semi-colon - Semi is a recent recruit and came out strong! Me likey :) He is the oldest amongst the bunch landing around the mid-30s. He is an avid reader and has proven to be a good writer so far. The brother likes independent movies and recently placed in a city short story contest. None of this was mentioned in his profile so I am intrigued to learned what next.

2. Harlem - He is not an online recruit but a long distance constant. He is a good shoulder. Got my back when needed. Always there when needed but never assertive. I am not sure if he knows quite what to do with me, therefore he slowly inches in like I am going to bite his head off. Rightfully so because you never know. (chuckle) In his defense he has heard me on conference call so he knows the direct Courvoisier.

3. Jimmy 2nd Time-around - I think J2time must be filler dude. (Not that I need one between commuting to NY, the studio and gearing up for a possible move to Boston later this year). Anyway J2time is my age and hasn't dated in a while and completely FVCKed up our first meet and greet. Took everything in my soul to not kick him to the curb. I am already stepping out my comfort zone because you remind me of last dude I give a chance and ended up marrying. So stay tuned, we are supposed to be going to a play this weekend but I will tell you he is still on the bench.

4. Law Student - I had high hopes for Law student, he came out the gates strong and has managed to trail off. On paper is great and we have a GREAT rapport. However, he is way too busy for dating. (rolling of the eyes) OK. Then why are you on match? For the filler? I think so. I really like when law student and I get together but I am not a filler type of chick. (chuckle) Two busy people will never meet unless they open up their schedules. I have control over mine. Law student not so much and if you can't control your own schedule, then I am not sure you will be able to control me. (chuckle) Funny guy though, still wants to chit-chat and call me 'hun'.

5. WT - As open as I am about hanging with other races. I have never been asked out by a white guy or went on a date with one. Well hello! Here comes WT... like "Hey there... Let's meet for drinks." Why am I stuck? Ladies, I have yet to respond to this. Still not sure. I am not trying to waste his time because after all this is fantasy dating, it moves fast, connect, check it out, then you make the decision right there and then to go for it or not. GREAT profile. Deep breath... I am going to respond... stay tuned.

Much luv until next week... peace :)

Into Infamy

This is Henrietta Lacks
Born in 1920 and Died in 1951

I often joke that I learned everything I know from television. I’m kidding…sort of. On Sunday night I was half paying attention to the news when the story of the woman above, Henrietta Lacks came on. Prior to this news story I had never heard of her. She was a Black woman who died at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore in 1951 from cervical cancer. When she died she was 31 and left behind a husband and five children. So what right?

The polio vaccine, cancer and viruses research, in vetro fertilization and gene mapping have been made possible with HeLa cells. HeLa cells are able to reproduce themselves an unlimited number of times outside of the human body. HeLa cells have been sold to many scientific firms and researchers for decades for sums that now total billions of dollars. These HeLa cells where taken, without permission, from the cancerous cells of Henrietta Lacks in 1951. The family that was left behind have not received any money from the use and reproduction of Henrietta’s cells...ever.


Today, scientific journalist Rebecca Skloot’s book The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks
will be released. I read this excerpt after the news story aired and I must say that I am totally intrigued by Henrietta, her family and the HeLa cells. I found it even more interesting that some members in her family are unable to afford healthcare. Hmmmm. I know that all people are deserving of healthcare-but shouldn’t the Lacks family have a get healthcare free pass? I mean that have HeLa cells in them also. Or maybe at the very least can someone throw a couple dollars in the Lack’s family direction? I think I have far more than two cents to throw in on the subject of American institutions taking advantage of poor black folks for the sake of science or saBut I’ll keep my change and spare ya’ll…But it does ire and annoy me that medical and scientific research companies have greatly profited from this woman’s DNA. And I am not berating these companies for their research because humanity as a whole have benefited. But I think most of us learned to do the right thing some where around before the 1st grade...

This woman who worked as a Virginia Tobacco farmer to support her family. This woman who died a year after her daughter was born from a silent killer. This woman, a black woman who died in nearly 60 years ago, but who’s DNA has helped many beat cancer, concieve children and live longer than expected.

Stories like these make me wonder what else I don't know I don't know....

See You In Seven

Friending on Facebook

Like with any online activity, idividual users determine rules of conduct on the way they will behave. That is no different with Facebook.

I personally have one rule, I don't friend people I don't know. Some people I swear just go through their friend's friend list and befriend whoever is cute. I get this... but people, you can't really get to know someone on Facebook. But if you catch me on the right day, I might accept just to check out your pics then unfriend you without you even knowing. (chuckle)

This simple rule stops me from befriending people I met online or some person that saw me at a happy hour and would rather say wassup under the cover of the internet. URGH! (chuckle) It also stops me from befriending dudes I met during a brief time on an online dating site who I have yet to meet in person. (chuckle)

Anyway just recently, I had to get a little more specific with my general rule. I mean you tell me what you would do under these circumstances?

Do you friend your mom or her friends? I say "Yes to my mom and yes to her friends, especially if I consider them close or if I am friends with their kids" I am a grown-a$$ woman... I live a respectable life. (chuckle)

Which leads me to the next scenario, should I friend my friend's mom, if I never met her? Um... sorry, I defer to rule number 1. If I don't know you. No access.

Access, yes. Do you grant this to your ex-husband? I would like to say "Hell-to-the nah!" But you are friends with his friends... good point. Let's leave it at if he don't ask I won't. (chuckle) I am not trying to increase my friend count.

What about married couples you know, are you friends with both of them? Not in all cases. So to my married friends, if I only know your parnter in the context of you and met them once or twice under couple event circumstances... chances are we are not going to be FB best buds.

And how does your rule treat co-workers? Touchy one. I try to keep it to ones whose cell phone numbers are in my phone and we hang outside of work. However, I did have someone from work request friendship and when I didn't reply in what he would deem enough time approach me about it. Are you serious? I had to let him know to his face, if you have to ask me about it like it is a big deal maybe we shouldn't be friends. Be eas-Z, wee-Z! (chuckle)

Of course this ALL my opinion, so in the same token you can lay with whomever you please... I can friend who I choose ;)

Much luv and nothing but art in 2010... peace:)

Studio track throwback... "It ain't hard to tell, I excel, then prevail..."

Won't You (Not) Be My Neighbor?

So once, because I’m ignorant, I casually mentioned to a single Black man who was living a life of shiftlessness, getting his hustle on, was an aspiring "rapper," and had a child by some random chick, that there will be a time when Black folk are more divided than we are now. That because of “values” and economics the chasm would widen. He looked at me perplexed. And then I pushed the ignorant meter over and said, “I’m just saying, I’m not going to want my child to play with your child.” Color him offended.

In my mind when I envision my future life, it involves being married with children. And raising those children in a certain manner. Not sheltering them from the world, but making sure they learn certain values, morals, etc. And I am a little fearful of what’s already happening in these here skreets. I work with "inner city" children and their parents on a regular basis – and um let’s just say we’re not on the same page when it comes to child rearing. And so I have decided that we, this would include me and my imaginary family, will live on a compound with other folks I love, trust and respect and their imaginary families.

Although my one friend who’s been invited to the compound said, “so that we don’t look like crazy people who wear long dresses, don’t put on make up and swap husbands, can we call it the cul-de-sac? A cul-de-sac of mini mansions?” Yes! So we shall all live in le cul-de-sac.

A place where while us ladies/mommies will stay flyy, we just might grow our own fruits and vegetables. We won’t go so far as home schooling our kids, but we will have Saturday School, followed by cookouts. Church and then old school, Big Mama’s house, Sunday dinners. Have guest houses for the grandparents. Take field trips into the city so our kids can get some culture. Watch, feed and discipline each other’s children. Take care of each other’s property when a family goes on vacation. Be a community. You know like we used to have back in the day. Before the white man’s welfare broke up the family. Before integration. Before the crack cocaine. When every Black woman had a huzband to herself. Huzzah!

My mother was blessed to have three sisters who lived in the area. So when she and my daddy were off doing their thang, we had built in babysitters – whom mama trusted. Cause she knew they would spank us if we did wrong. Would adhere to the bed time she had set. Feed us only what she deemed healthy. My one aunt watched us every Thursday night for like 10 years. In retrospect I think this was my parents’ date night. My brother and I didn’t notice because we were too busy watching the Cosby Show.

I only have one natural sibling, but I consider my good girlfriends family. My sisters. Or sistas depending on your black-o-meter. And I would find it totally awesome if we all lived in le cul-de-sac together. And raised our children together.

I mean I would love to be able to send my kids to Godmommy Amaretto’s house and know that it will be filled with dancing and laughter and that she’ll read my babies Bible stories. Have them spend the night with Mama Courvoisier where she’ll have them doing arts and crafts (cause mama Rum Punch is not artistically inclined) and then they’ll eat individual servings of mac & cheese that she baked in muffin pans. Send them to Aunt Bellini’s house where she’ll be playing 90’s jams and telling my kids about how she believed in a Black man from Hawaii long before Mama Rum Punch ever did. Leave them at Dark and Stormy’s house, where world music will fill the air, Bob Marley on a record player, and she’ll be breaking down the lyrics. Send them to Auntie Mint Julep’s where she’ll be keeping it RBG and telling my kids never, ever, ever step outside your own house if the police come to your door.

Ahhh yes, le cul-de-sac, a place where, we are family is not just a song, but a way of life. Where people got your back. Where everybody knows your name. Where we set the standards. And said standard is always excellence. So, favorite ladies in my life, I hope y’all are “looking” for y’alls husbands and stacking your pennies cause mama is on the hunt for some land. Hmmm…. And I guess a huzband of my own.

That’s my time y’all! Happy Rum Punch Friday!

who dat said dey gon exploit them saints?

so my new city is all abuzz wit saints hysteria. 

there are at least 50 tribute songs and more being cranked out and over the airwaves every day.

lawyers are getting continuances based on the big game for cases that are set to roll an entire week before the super bowl. 

kinda awesome right?  can i get one of those please judge?  hat tip to abovethelaw. 

and even the NFL is jumping on the proverbial bandwagon of the saints' success.

the NFL is now claiming ownership of "who dat".  really NFL?!?  really!  you own the who dat?

chile boo.

what's interesting is that during last sunday's thrilling game, i wiki'ed "who dat" just for kicks and was surprised at what i found:

The chant of "Who Dat?" originated in minstrel shows and vaudeville acts of the late 1800s and early 1900s, and was then taken up by jazz and big band performers in the 1920s and 30s.

The first reference to "Who Dat?" can be found in the 19th Century. A featured song in E.E. Rice's "Summer Nights" is the song "Who Dat Say Chicken In dis Crowd", with lyrics by poet Paul Laurence Dunbar. A common tag line in the days of Negro minstrel shows was: "Who dat?" answered by "Who dat say who dat?" Many different blackfaced gags played off that opening.

hmmmm.... and then, as to the use of "who dat" during sporting events:

It has been debated exactly where it started, but some claim it began with Southern University fans either in the late 1960s or early 1970s and went "Who dat say dey gonna beat dem Jags" - Southern University being nicknamed the Jaguars. Another claim is that around the same time it began at St. Augustine High School, a historically African-American all boys Catholic high school in New Orleans, and then spread to the New Orleans Public Schools. Another claim is that the cheer originated at Patterson High School in Patterson, Louisiana (home of Saints running back Dalton Hilliard).  In the late 70's fans at Louisiana State University picked up on the cheer. By 1983, the New Orleans Saints organization officially adopted it during the tenure of coach Bum Phillips, and Aaron Neville (along with local musicians Sal and Steve Monistere and Carlo Nuccio) recorded a version of "When the Saints Go Marching In" that incorporated the chant (performed by a group of Saints players) that became a major local hit, due in part to the support of sportscaster Ron Swoboda and the fact that Saints fans had been using the chant already.

how bout that!

yet the NFL is sending cease and desist letters to local apparel shops in town who use "who dat" on their clothing.

"According to NFL spokesman Dan Masonson, "Any unauthorized use of the Saints colors and other [marks] designed to create the illusion of an affiliation with the Saints is equally a violation of the Saints trademark rights because it allows a third party to 'free ride' by profiting from confusion of the team's fans, who want to show support for the Saints."

why the NFL wanna be cracking down on these mom and pop shops?  why stop there?  why not stop the chants in the superdome? and why now when the saints are winning and on their way to the big dance?  shady antics indeed.