Many have written, most have their own opinions, and some will look at this blog post as a small fish in a big pond. I don’t care; it is not my goal to gain friends and influence others. What I am here to do is perhaps provide a different way to look at the situation that is Chris Brown and his floundering music career.
At the BET Awards last night, Chris Brown got his time on stage to honor and pay homage to the one and only Michael Jackson. Watching him move about on stage, I got a true chill. Don’t get it twisted; no one will ever match Michael’s masterful moves or command of a stage, but Chris Brown danced as if his life depended on it. And maybe, just maybe it did. The dance ended with Chris Brown breaking down while attempting to sing Man In The Mirror. Twitter was all abuzz about whether or not those tears that he shed were real, or a manufactured stunt by Chris and his PR team.
Watch for yourself:
All he wanted to do was dance. When Michael Jackson died last year, Chris Brown seemed the obvious choice to lead the tribute at the BET Awards. He was exiled, and instead we got a plethora of mediocre tributes. Mediocre, I say! Because there was no one, and I mean absolutely no one, who came on that stage that could get close to dancing like Michael.
In Chris Brown’s situation, what he did was terribly wrong. I have heard him utter those words out of his own mouth countless times, yet there are still some who shun him. Isn’t forgiveness what we, as fellow human beings, supposed to offer if someone owns up to their mistakes? Why hasn’t that been given to this young man?
Watching Chris last night, and feeling that the emotions he displayed were real and true, I realized that this was perhaps the first time he was able to dance his heart out for Michael in front of an audience. I think that is why the emotions overtook him; this was his tribute. So what if it came a year later?
Before the craziness even begins, let me say this: I was raised to believe that men should NEVER put their hands on a woman. Even if that woman provoked, initiated, or otherwise fueled the flames that led to the abuse, men should be men and walk away from any situation like that. There is no excuse. Chris has paid, will pay, and is currently paying his penance for the crime he committed. Our role, if we even have one, is to offer him forgiveness. That doesn’t mean that we forget what he has done, nor does it mean that we go out and buy every single one of his CDs from now until. What that means is that when he shows up at the BET Awards to pay tribute to the man who inspired him, we should not throw stones.
All he wanted to do was dance. And I am glad that he finally got his chance to.
I’m doing this whole “looking deep within” thing to discover things about myself that I never knew before. It has been a challenge. Do you understand how hard it is to change your mind about the picture of yourself that you see? Let me be the first to tell you that it is one of the hardest things that I’ve ever done.
I guess that I wrestle with denial. I would tell anyone who listened that I am open to change…but that only applies to certain areas of my life. I like things to remain tightly consistent; a change only serves to wrinkle my constitution. I also would tell you that I love to be around people…the truth is that I prefer to be alone. People disappoint you. Maybe that’s me hiding from all the hurt and brokenness that I’ve experienced, but it is the truth.
I love my family, and my son, and my friends; somewhere along the way, the love that I have for myself got lost. I’m finding it again, and it feels different. It’s like that old sweater that you love but realize that it looks terrible on you. I’m trying on new sweaters, y’all…and I haven’t found one that fits yet. The search continues.
I got my haircut yesterday. Nice little layered bob…and I hate it. Oh, I praised my stylist for the work that she had done, but it looked like the old me, the one that I really don’t like and don’t want to hold onto. So I sit here, agonizing about what to do. Again, it’s the sweater thing…
For those of you who don’t know, I’m working on my first novel. Writing comes naturally to me; it’s something that is innate and that I stopped denying a long time ago. It is also not an easy road. Writing makes me take a good long look at myself in the mirror of my penmanship and ask tough questions that I don’t want to answer. When I try to run from the questions/answers, writer’s block ensues. That’s where I am now. It is a form of torture that I don’t recommend, the whole running thing. The only thing running gets you is sleepless nights and headaches. I’m tired of running.
I’ve spent most of the last week in deep reflection. I need to learn my truth, I need to understand me, before I can continue on my path. What motivates me? What makes me love someone and dislike another? When did my alone turn to loneliness? Why do I insist on holding on to my past life?
No more running; just looking on the inside to answer the questions. I’m scared of the answers, so that is absolutely why I must press on. Fear will not win with me again.
I actually dreaded writing this post all week. I knew I was going to do something, but I wish it were under different circumstances. I wish I was trying my best to get tickets to see Michael Jackson live somewhere; instead I’m here writing a blog post about the one-year anniversary of his death.
It still doesn’t seem real, you know? Like the world played a huge trick on my spirit. This one hit me hard; when the news was announced that Michael was gone, I sat at this computer and screamed. My son came running, asking if I was alright. I couldn’t even tell him. I couldn’t say anything.
It’s hard to explain feeling like part of you is ripped away in response to the death of someone I didn’t know personally. But you see, I felt like I did. Michael Jackson was part of my life—a big part—and knowing that there is a void where he once shined makes me sad.
We will always have the music, though. May you continue to live on through the wealth of classic music that you have gifted to us.
R.I.P. Michael…
video credit: originally uploaded to YouTube on July 4, 2009 by michaeljacksonVEVO
video credit: originally uploaded to YouTube on April 4, 2008 by Dilawar12
Jaden Smith is absolutely adorable. On the screen, he mixes his baby face with the confidence of someone who has some tales to tell. He comes across as both innocent and as a kid who knows exactly who he is. And that is a good thing. In The Karate Kid, the world is introduced to the star that will soon be Jaden Smith.
Let me say right here for the record: I loved the original Karate Kid. When I heard this movie was going to be remade, I was disappointed. I mean, why mess with a classic? The news that Will and Jada Pinkett Smith’s youngest son would be the new Karate Kid left me with a further feeling of chagrin. I mean, I thought Jaden did an excellent job in The Pursuit of Happyness with his father, but I don’t know many kids of his age of 8 who aren’t cute on screen. It was easy to dismiss Jaden’s acting, but those times are in the past.
Believe it or not; the kid will be 12 on July 8!!
I was immediately struck by his ease on screen. And I was impressed by the amount of training that he put into this role. I often found myself exclaiming at the screen “Yeah!” or “Go!” during his fight scenes. The one thing that plagued me throughout the entire movie was that he was not convincing as a 12-year-old. Jaden doesn’t look a day over nine or ten, if that. His slight build doesn’t do him justice, and the scene he shares with the beautiful actress who plays his love interest (!?) seem…uncomfortable. Jackie Chan, however, in the role of Jaden’s teacher, Mr. Han, was perfect. Being that Jackie Chan has normally been portrayed in comical roles, it was a welcome difference to see him in a role that actually showed that he was more than an accomplice in silliness to Chris Tucker.
I thoroughly enjoyed this movie. That probably can be attributed to my love of the original, but then again, if this movie sucked, I would be the first in line waving my fist and calling for someone’s head on a platter. Instead, I await what Jaden Smith is going to do next.
Of course I could not let this day go past without celebrating and remembering Tupac.
I am not going to say much, because what needed to be said has already been written. I will say this: I don’t remember Pac for his music as much as I remember him for what he was. He was a diamond, a passionate poet who lived his life with fervor and purpose. He may not have been the very best MC, or even had the illest flow, but he made you stop and think. I think that is immeasurable, and something that is surely missing from today’s Hip-Hop music.
Happy Birthday, Tupac Amaru Shakur. You are missed…
Every once and again, the memories come flooding back. They push everything out of the way and take up residence, front and center.
I sometimes wish that I could put them away for good, these memories. They only serve to remind me of something that I do not have, something that I let get away. They hurt, even when they feel good.
They show up regardless of how busy I am, or what I am trying to be. They show up making me yearn for a do over, or at the very least, an instant replay.
The reality is, I am here and I cannot move backwards. But the memories don’t know that and they still creep into my mind, sometimes in the middle of the night when my defenses are low. I can’t fight them, so I will embrace them and welcome them back.
They are, after all, just memories.
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I would put up some videos, but you know his Royal Purpleness doesn’t allow his music on YouTube or any other video venue.
Anywho, today is the birthday of one Prince Rogers Nelson; he turns 52 today. When I was in my teenage years, there was a little rivalry between Prince and Michael Jackson. Michael, being the better known and more famous one at the time, seemed to rule. Prince was just beginning his fabulous career, and he had quite an air of…dirty to him. I think that is why those of us who Adore him (see how I did the thing right there?) couldn’t resist his pretty ass.
Where Michael Jackson was all milk and Oreo cookies, Prince was a hot pickle and a snickers bar. Sometimes he was hard to digest, and the hotness sometimes got stuck in your throat, but you took had a craving for it. It was Prince that we turned to for sexiness and excitement. He offered us a different view of the world with his music, and that is something that will last forever.
Today I say Happy Birthday to the man who has a significant amount of songs included in the soundtrack of my life. I am Darling Nikki (or at least I have been), I live a Pop Life, and I have laughed in the Purple Rain.
Over the past few days, I have watched three videos that left me with my jaw on the floor. It is too much sex, and quite frankly, it leaves me feeling sorry for this generation.
I woke up from my sleep one night and this video was playing on MTV:
Now me being a grown ass woman, I watched this video and drooled a little (what? Trey is a tasty little morsel). But that’s just it; I’m supposed to know what this means. I’m supposed to drool, because this song should bring up memories of what a hot, passionate session of booty-ass naked sex feels like. Kids shouldn’t know this. Sadly, most of them do.
The other day, I watched this video:
Seriously…did he lick her ass? That is doing way too much…Chris Brown, ever trying to regain whatever hold he had on the game, is missing the mark.
And this poor child…Lord…
I give Ciara big ups for her dancing ability. But she can’t sing for shit. And if it is necessary for her to move to this level by gyrating and imitating sexual positions, as well as showing off those purchased boobs (she didn’t have those in the Goodies video; I checked) in a wet t-shirt, then she lacks the very thing that would lift her from the bottom of the food chain: a brain.
Poor Chris Brown, though. I want so badly for him to clean up the mess he has made of his image and life. This ain’t the way, sweetie.
Maybe it’s because I am the mother of a teenage son who listens to this crap and will one day try to put it into action (or already has…LORD help!). The message that I get when watching these videos is that sex equals love, wealth, and fame. Our world has become one where whoever sells the most sex, wins. That is bullshit. Is it more important to stay true to the talent given or sell your soul? I think, by watching these vids, the answer is the latter…and that is sad.
Call me old or whatever, but you can never label me a prude. I’m as much into sex as anyone else. But again I will say that I’m a grown ass woman. I know that my choices have a consequence. The videos are marketed to an audience that hasn’t made the same mistakes grown folks have made and therefore, are unable to know right from wrong. All they see are the clothes and the money and the fame and think this behavior is the way to get all of that.
I saw a young lady at the store just today who had on a pair of booty shorts (or coochie cutters, whatever) and a tank top that stopped right past her boobs. She looked like a trollop. And the looks that people were giving her were not looks of “Oh, yeah” but of “What the hell?!” Our girls are headed for the stripper pole, and our boys to making it rain.
