WE ARE: 5 women navigating our twenties in search of peace, happiness and love (or not). WE WRITE: about everything and nothing. From the insane to the mundane- you will find different paths taken, lessons learned and lives lived. WE THINK: you’ll enjoy it...Warning: Consumption of these views may leave you enlightened while intoxicated.


The View From Here will conclude on Friday, October 1, our third year anniversary. We would like to spend this month thanking all of our readers, followers, haters, visitors, family, friends, and fans for your continued support, encouragement, and comments over these past few years. Thanks y'all!
-The Five Spot

Friday, June 19, 2009

I Get It From My Mama?!?

Ladies (and I guess gentlemen too – but really ladies) has your mama ever called you during the middle of the day whilst you were actually doing work (or just bullshyting on the internets – looking at shoes, stalking on facebook, reading an online newspaper, gossip site), but still called you on yo’ job and asked you the craziest question that has you wondering, “is my mama on crack?” No offense or disrespect to anyone’s mama who has ever been on crack. I don’t wanna dredge up horrible memories. So let’s focus on my mother who I know for a fact is not on crack.

But case in point: As you know I live with my mama n’em. And their house is undergoing renovation. For the past week and a half I have been staying with my aunts. So my mother, God bless her, calls me up (and this is pretty much the exact transcript of the conversation) and says,

“Hey. Question. Did you take the little black clock with you to your aunts’?”

“Uh… Excuse me?”
“The little clock, we keep in the bathroom. Do you have it? Your father couldn’t find the one upstairs, so he had to get the one from downstairs. But we’re wondering where is the one from upstairs.”
“Uhhhh… I don’t have it.”
“Oh ok. Well I guess we’ll find it.”

This is one of those times when I be thinking wtf mama? But really, actually, for real, wanna say aloud, “what the fcuk kinda question is that mama?” But then I know that she would slap the shyt outta me through the phone. And while moments like these baffle me. I realize, unfortunately, that I am guilty of the same behavior.

Sometimes a question and/or need will overtake me and I have to respond to it immediately, right away, like right now before I can even see anything that’s happening around me, have to stop and find what I’m looking for, have to call someone to get the answer and to do so must ask them a crazy question, having them wonder I’m sure if I’m on crack - like when I called my brother the other day and asked him if he had seen my little wallet because in that moment I couldn’t find it (even though I don’t even use it) but it had to be found! Now! And then the realization. The picture coming into focus. Wait for it… Shyt! I’m just like my mama!

This past winter while I was tutoring one of my kids, we were sitting on the couch – me in appropriate winter clothes, she in shorts and t-shirt. And she said, “I’m cold.” And I said, “that’s cause you ain’t got no clothes on.” And then I turned around, like who said that? No, for real, who said that shyt? Is my mama in this room? No really, is she hiding behind that curtain? Did she just throw her voice from 10 miles away? Oh hell no, that was me! Shyt! I’m just like my mama!

While there are things about us that are inherently our own, there are other things that we acquire. That are passed down to us, not solely through DNA, but along life’s journey. I realize that sometimes when I’m just staring into space, I sit and hold my hands in the exact same way as my mother. Like her, I make folders when I travel that contain all necessary flight, hotel, car rental and tourist spots info. I have one prepared for the 5 Spot's trip to Chicago this weekend. And I can adopt her same tone when making it known to someone that they don’t wanna fcuk with me.

It is learned. It is transferred. It is handed down. Some of it is good. Some bad. Some just wrong. But it’s all right there. Deep down on the inside of us. All up in the marrow. Waiting for the exact moment to reveal itself. And we may try to fight it. Run from it. Shun it. Ignore it. But we should really just embrace it. At some point, someway, somehow, we become our mothers. In our wisdom. With our soothsaying. Truth telling. And soul soothing. It’s what keeps the world going round.

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

P.S. - The 5 Spot is off to Chicago this weekend for the Blogging While Brown Conference! And HAPPY FATHER'S DAY to all the daddies out there in the blogosphere!

Thursday, June 18, 2009

daddy dearest

fathers don't always get the same love that mothers do. but as father's day approaches i've been thinking on fathers and the fathers in my live.

the stepfather: after i wrote this to my stepfather, many of you suggested that i send a copy to him. i did and he really enjoyed it. i know i'm growing when i can freely share with those i love that i love them. happy father's day, william james!

the biological father: a few days ago, i was looking for a card for my stepfather, picking through the selection trying to find just the right words to convey how much he means to me. once i'd settled on the perfect card, i thought about my real father, whom i think of less as a father but more as the "dear old man who i am fond of." i picked out a simpler card for him, realizing this might be the first father's day card i'd ever gotten him. and more importantly, i might be the only one of his 6 children who would send him one this year. when he calls me for his bi-weekly check-ins, he likes to remind me that i'm the only one who regularly answers when he calls, the only one he can get a hold of. despite what he hasn't been to me in the past, i'm glad i can be the lifeline for him now.

the client father: remember this guy? i almost cried as he expressed his love for his daughters in a crowded courtroom. in the days after he was sentenced, i checked the computer system regularly to see whether he had made it out. i was saddened when an immigration hold popped up on him. but just last week as i was walking over to courthouse, i looked up and saw him walking down the sidewalk toward me. for a second i scrambled to recall his name and case. and then as he smiled it clicked. "you got out!?!" i exclaimed. all is well with him and hopefully he will spend father's day with his daughters.

happy father's day!

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

so -- what's the point of it all?...

Earlier in the week, when I was enroute to work and stopped to purchase gas, a young boy with dishelved hair aka doodoo locks, untucked button-up, you get my drift asked if I was married. So, I ponder where is he going with this… “no.” “well, you know you look good in your professional attire…” “thank you.” “and so I would like to call you sometime.”

Oh what irony we have here… you like the way I look to work and yet you look like some shit and you’re a damn baby. Has it come down to this. So, what’s the point of it all. Be’cuz I have brothers your age and in a sisterly way I pitied you wonderin’ why come no woman in your life has told you lookin’ a fcukin’ mess and that is not the business when in a professional environment.

Now on Sunday, an acquaintance’s brother revealed to me that he should have pursued me 3 years ago. flattering perhaps; however he is a newlywed with a damn baby on the way.Why, was it relevant for him to tell me this?
So, what’s the point of it all.

Then I reminisce back to when Rummy expressed her feelings on a similar topic and i find myself asking so--what's the point of it all?

Only, if these fellas knew how I adore these lyrics and song from Anthony Hamilton. And if a brotha ain't got me feelin' like this:

I can't stay away from you too long
Even if I do I'll always call
Checkin' on you make sure you're ok
Be the one to brighten up your day

And the point of it all
Is I love you
You know I love you baby

My days seem long whenever we're apart
It's like someone had thrown away my heart
You're a major part of my life
And no matter what the storm may bring
I'm fine with you,

And the point of it all
Is I love you
And the reason for it all
Is I love you

O I love
O I love you
O my love

I can't stay away too long
I can't stay away from you baby
LyricsDon't wanna be without you
I need you
O why don't you stay around for awhile

And the point of it all
And the point of it all
And the point of it all
And the point of it all
Ohhohh, and the reason for it all
And the point of it all
Is that I love you
Yeah, I love you

Whenever we're apart
It damn near starves my heart
And I don't ever want to be apart

then truly what is the point of it all?



Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Middle School Musical

Waaaaaay back in 2004, my cousin and I were cruising back to DC from New Jersey when the radio DJ announce that they were going to play the old school jam of the day. Now normally when it comes to the Old School portion of a disc jockey's mix mastering I would turn the station. No disrespect to the true hippity hop fans out there, but I ain't never trying to hear the good Rev Run, before he got saved, singing about shoes! So please imagine my shock and shagrin when we heard Snoop Doggy Dog's Gin and Juice.

Saaaay Whaaaat? Remember that ya'll?! When did a song that was part of my childhood soundtrack become old school?! I mean I remember being in my room with headphones plugged into my radio so my parents couldn't hear me listening to some dude from some place called Long Beach California singing about smoking and drinking! How dare that DJ call this song that introduced surban America to the wonderfulness that became gansta rap!

Old school? Yeah right! But now that we have the Death of Autotunes and the likes of Lil Wayne helping to raise and maintain the South once again I long for that music from the middle. Now anyone who knows me knows that my true muscial love lie back in the day with the grown folks music, like the Stylisitics, the Delfonics, Ojays and of course the elements. But when I want to act my age and not like my parents I need that early to mid ninties music!

I need Biggie and Junior Mafia!

Before Puffy (or whatever he's calling himself these days) fell in love with suits that shone!

I need Nas before his beef with J when he was still Illmatic!

Lauryn pre craziness (check Rum's post from January 30th)

She can either be with the Fugees or doing her solo thang!

And what ever happened to Total? SWV?

And I'm not gonna lie, Brandy was like one of my favorites before her hairline started to scare me!

The Lost Boys with the Lex, Coupe, Bemmas and the Benz!


Do I need to say more?

Oh how I could go on and on about how great the music was back then. Not quite old school. But much better than most of the stuff that's out today! I am a girl from the middle school! Where we wore flannel shirts, white tank tops with baggy jeans, where were started get classy and buying Louis Bags. Oh, I missed the middle school, there the music was juuuust right!

See You In Seven

Monday, June 15, 2009

What do you say, Courvoisier? (Part 3)

Yo Courvoisier,

What would you call a ho?

Better yet would be considered ho-like activities?

Hmm... those are very good questions. Since I was little, my BFF and I have been trying to nail down one solid detailed definition that would last through out the years. One that we could apply to ourselves or any other female we see acting out of sorts. And let me start by saying that as the years went by our definitions got more and more specific, as we got other. Shall I elaborate?

Chilling in the garden and my dad says “Could you pass me the hoe, please?” That was the first time I heard the word hoe and for the longest time that is what I knew it to mean. It wasn’t until I had a little… ok, big crush on a man who calls himself Snoop Doggy Dog that I realized hoe is a little bit more than a garden tool. (chuckle) And that is when the quest to define for myself what a ho’ really is began. Because say what? I wasn’t trying to be nobody’s silly ho.

So check it, my friends and I weren’t sexually active at the time which meant to us any chick having sex was a ho’. Done deal, no questions asked, she is a ho’. This included, giving BJs and french kissing, etc, more than one dude within a 6 month period. It was going to be a year but you know… some so-called boyfriends didn’t make it through the summer. (chuckle) In fact at this point, sex before marriage was a cardinal sin that none of us wanted to mention at penance.

As the years went by this held true as the ultimate definition of a ho’ until someone in the group, not calling any names, gave it up to her boyfriend of 2 years. What you going to do now? Could you really call your best friend a ho’? We tried. Just kidding we didn’t. (chuckle) So here we were, back to the drawing board trying to decide… What is a ho’? Ok, we got it. A ho’ is a chick who has sex with someone who is not her boyfriend of more than a year.

Awww man, we thought we could stop there. Well you know what happened, someone else broke those conditions and we had to get a little more specific. Next it was, a ho’ is someone who has sex with a guy who is not her boyfriend. URGH, that one went out the window pretty fast in college. Then it was a ho’ was a chick who had sex with a guy who wasn’t her boyfriend, may or may not have a girlfriend and had a boyfriend. I really thought this one would last through college but oh no… it didn’t. (chuckle) So what now?

Here’s what we got… a ho’ is a chick who knowingly has sex with a married or involved guy, whether she is in a relationship or not. Okay that is it. We are done, this isn’t going to get no worst than this.

Oops but it does and we are back to the drawing board again. At this point, I bring up ladies, “What has happen to us? Remember when we would never be caught dead, doing such craziness?” But oh yea, there is always that one brother, maybe two that convinces us to do something you know is wrong. Besides some of these scenarios, were so exciting. Could you really call these chicks ho’s when all they were doing was looking for love? (chuckle – chuckle) I am going to go ahead and say yes!  I am not going to say they are ho’s out right but I will say this was serious ho’ing activity. (chuckle) Can you say that without calling her a ho’? (chuckle)

Anyway, the next thing you know we are now calling ho’s, chicks who sleeps with more than one man in the same night or at the same time. Yup, that is it. That is what you call a ho’. Lights on, game over! (chuckle)

Oh wait hold on a minute… I need not tell you what happened next. (chuckle) So am I at a lost of words? Not at all. No more sugar coating, no more making new definitions. To this day and it shall never change, we agreed, “a ho’ is a person (keyword, men can be ho’s too... chuckle) who behaves sexually reckless, with disregard for safety and/or the consequence of their actions.”

I also must say, through all of these revisions of our definition, not once did we say once, a ho’ always a ho’. It is really difficult to label a person with one (or maybe a few acts… chuckle) but by gawd, we sure did acknowledge that up until this last definition all of these violations could be considered ho’ like activity.

And on that note, I leave you with a throw-back...

Much luv until next week... peace :)