It’s Catching On

Mia&JasonThe black community is racking up more notable ‘firsts’. Last year, we joyfully elected the country’s first Black (who is actually biracial) president, and this year we made history again. On Jan. 3 (Sorry for my lateness. Full-time life calls.), Mia Love, a Saratoga Springs Councilwoman became the first black woman elected as mayor of a Utah city. Lattecafe readers will be interested to know that Mia married across color lines to a guy named Jason Love. That’s them smooching in the photo from The Salt Lake Tribune. (Mr. and Mrs. Love—too much!) I suppose that in a state like Utah, where blacks are a tiny minority, just about anything a black man or woman does of note is bound to be historic!  But that doesn’t diminish Mia Love’s accomplishment one bit. Let’s wish Mayor Love a successful first term, a decisive reelection should she want it, and a distinguished career of service to her community marked by integrity, wisdom and the respect of all her peers, even if they have philosophical differences. I’ll also include Mia’s campaign video, which just happens to feature another Lattecafe-type couple.

Saratoga Springs looks like a beautiful place to live and raise a family. I’m from North Jersey, so whenever I see pretty pictures like that I automatically think: high property taxes. That’s the way life is here in the Northeast: if you don’t want to live in the ghetto and send your kid to a school with dropout, gang and drug problems, fork out the money for high property taxes. But Ms. Love appears to be dedicated to keeping taxes low. For a long time, I couldn’t understand why people in certain parts of the country had such an aversion to taxes. They had such a well-developed distrust of the revenue source that it seemed to be a phrase applied generally to anything detestable.

And then I started paying tithes regularly at church. At that point, I truly began to appreciate (though I do not always agree) where some American voters are coming from when it comes to keeping all taxes low. A lot of Americans are devout Christians, and are taught to pay tithes regularly. When you consider that tithes is defined as one tenth of a family’s gross earnings, paying it regularly is a major financial commitment along with meeting other obligations, not the least of which is saving and investing. So you can’t blame a person for wanting to elect politicians that promise to eliminate wasteful public spending of any sort. I don’t happen to think that all public spending should automatically be deemed socialistic or wasteful, because I do benefit from some of it. Some of these subsidized government programs really do help middle class families live a little bit more comfortably—certainly without living high on the public dollar.

Reading, Writing and Dividends

MellodyHobsonI always like to hear what Mellody Hobson, the brilliant and photogenic president of Chicago-based Ariel Capital Management has to say about money. Mellody recently made a speech at a conference in San Francisco and I listened to part of it before going to bed. The running time is just short of 45 minutes. She’s right in suggesting that investing should be part of standard school curricula.  Between pay cuts, the scarcity of company-sponsored pension plans and the gradual replacement of formal healthcare plans with high-deductible health savings accounts, skyrocketing college costs, and the realities of retirement, middle- and upper-class Americans are going to have to shoulder more and more HUGE expenses. Which means that they will have to be very smart about money.

For Black women (78% of whom are single if you believe Oprah) an education, gainful employment and financial health are more imperative now than ever. And since a lot of Black women are unwilling to do what I did (marry a white guy) figuring it all out solo is going to be a reality. And that’s OK. No judgements either way. And let’s be honest: Not all married women will stay married. Life is unpredictable and any married woman could eventually find herself divorced or widowed. There are times, especially when Hubby is driving and he turns half-way around in his seat, eyes off the road, to talk to Baby or Little Sister in the back seat that I think I’ll be a widow. (It drives me crazy! And makes me think I need to shop for 20-year term life policies, just to make sure there’s enough money to get the baby through college.)

Start by listening to Mellody, if for no other reason than to get you thinking about where you stand in the whole ‘investing’ world. I remember watching one of Mellody’s segments on Good Morning America on one of my days off between Christmas and New Year’s and she was talking about the ten financial new year’s resolutions that we should all stick to. I didn’t abide my all her advice, much less remember them, but I did do one thing: save your raise. Take that percentage increase in your salary after your next performance review and bank it. If you are disciplined with your spending and diligent with putting the money away, you won’t even miss it. I tried it, eventually, and she was right! It helped that I had direct deposit and worked for cheapskate company that offered measly pay increases, more like cost of living adjustments (COLA) that were just slightly above the rate of inflation. So it’s not like I was getting 10% raises and had to turn around and force myself to save all that dough instead of vacationing or taking writing classes or getting a bigger apartment. My raises were small, and so the impact of my savings were small.

Invest the time in listening to Mellody’s speech, and maybe into reading the article, too. The story appeared in a first-rate pensions industry publication called Pensions & Investments. According to the research that she diligently dug up about our investing habits, we are not nearly as engaged in the investing process as we should be. But financial health is still attainable. The key: get started early and stick with it.

As for the Latte Cafe angle, the last I heard and saw, film director George Lucas was still sweet on Mellody and they were still an item. But first things first. Listen to her speech and think about whether you and your family need to make any changes in the way you invest and manage your money.

Garcelle & The Guys

Garcelle & BoysIsn’t this a beautiful picture? This is Garcelle Beauvais-Nilon, her husband Mike, and her two-year-old twin sons, Jax Joseph and Jaid Thomas. Maybe they’ll get a copy for the family album. The great thing about this photo is that they are all together. Oftentimes, media magazines and Web sites will crop out the husband and kids from a photo to focus solely on the famous wife—and vice versa. But does anyone honestly believe that all of these beautiful married actresses exist without any input or influence at all from their families? I don’t believe it. And I also think nixing the husband and kids so often just makes the women come across as narcissistic. I can just imagine flipping through a magazine or clicking their mouse and shaking their heads because the husband and kids are never around when the cameras are. I’m not interested in the reasoning of these Hollywood celebrity editors who make those decisions. Just because they cover an industry built on celebrity worship, it doesn’t mean they have to exclude the famous person’s family so often. I say run more pictures like this one.

The Little Black Dress

KorsDressSunday mornings are not an appropriate time to read hard news stories, so it is no surprise that I was perusing the Style section of the Sunday Times several days ago. I was happy to spot Paula Patton in the Pulse column. She looks lovely and glamorous in that little black Michael Kors dress, and she has a few things to say about the merits of looking feminine and beautiful. But I wish they hadn’t cropped out so much of the footwear. What little I saw of those Zanotti boots looked quite promising.

Separately, reports are going around on the Internet that Paula and husband Robin Thicke are expecting their first child. Well, I guess Paula can relax and enjoy the good news now, unlike last year, when some reporters began speculating about a pregnancy after observing the way a certain dress fit on her. I wish them well, and hope that they cherish every happy moment.

Listen To Michelle

I was really hoping that Michelle Matson (her Website, RichChick.com, has been added to the blog roll) would not pull a September Essence out of her stack of glossies hawking the latest trends in fashion and, of all things, investing. She is right: Our precious, hard-earned money is not supposed to be subject to the latest trendy scheme to accumulate wealth in “three easy steps” or whatever other jackrabbit form of money management people come up with. It takes time and discipline to become financially secure or attain wealth, and we all should adopt good habits to increase our chances. Maybe the financial tips inside Essence are actually sensible, manageable things that every woman can do to attain affluence and maybe wealth, and that’s why Matson overlooked it? At any rate, I was glad that Essence was not in the company of those monthlies that looked good, but had no substance beyond their surface beauty.

And yet the more that I think about it, Essence had no chance of being pulled out of Michelle Matson’s stack of September books. And it’s not because it is a black woman’s lifestyle magazine, but Essence has become, unfortunately, a bit staid in its coverage of our subculture. So it probably had no interesting covers or cover lines to grab her attention.

For at least a couple of years now, my interest in reading Essence magazine has plummeted. I know I haven’t aged out of its core demographic (its median age is 37, my exact age), but I suspect that ever since it was taken over by Time Inc., it has begun to spew out a lot of what I consider to be mainstream nonsense. The cover lines used to have a lot of impact, and the editors used to allow space on their covers from time to time for compelling, charismatic everyday women. Now, its a stream of actresses and singers, which is okay, but kind of dull, actually. And with cover lines like “#1 Sex Secret: Make Him Say Your Name” or “Be the Woman You Really Want to Be” (June 2007) or “Be the Woman You Want to Be: Your Health, Wealth and Sex Plan” (November 2009) I can barely tell one month from another. Half the time, I don’t even care. Especially not if I’ve read Vanity Fair’s latest slam on Bill Clinton,  Sarah Palin, or whoever.

I don’t expect black magazines to do those kinds of take downs, for several reasons. But continuing to deliver classy coverage of black women with uplifting messages, and doing it in an attractive and fun format, while being profitable, does not necessarily mean that Essence has to be boring. But I’m afraid that it kind of has become a bit of a snore. And that’s why I let my subscription expire last year. The covers and cover lines had stopped being compelling, daring, real reflections of me and the women I know. It now documents the lives of celebrities, for the most part (just like all the other money losers), and while it does advise us on how to dress, love, spend, etc., I still feel like something is missing.

That’s my two cents. Of course, considering that I have not opened an Essence in several months (except for a quick glance in the supermarket checkout aisle the other day) I could be wrong.

Drat!

I was all set to congratulate Halle Berry and Gabriel Aubry on their second blessed event. But then I found this video, in which a stunning Halle (is this woman even capable of looking less that gorgeous? Ever?) dispels recent pregnancy rumors. So for now, it seems, there will be no second wave of unfair beauty born into the world, no second set of onesies, rompers, or burp cloths, either. I guess those best wishes will have to wait a little longer. Nevertheless, Halle has seemed very content for a long time, which is great. I hope that health and happiness continue to follow her and her beautiful family, wherever they go.

s-HALLE-BERRY-large

Goodbye to Summer

As far as I’m concerned, Summer 2009 never really happened. This odd solstice that we just experienced, with its soggy June and a few hot spots that interrupted the mildness of July and August, was an impostor. Phony baloney. I don’t feel like I had an authentic summer experience. I didn’t eat gallons of rum raisin ice cream, nor did I bolt out of the house in the mornings to walk or to garden. Not once did I go to the beach, and we didn’t even see any memorable July 4th fireworks.

And yet, we are told, we had a summer this year. As if to try to find some grain of truth in this scandalous falsehood, find some trace of authenticity of summer, I spent a little bit of time looking around the city (mainly during my commute to and from work) to get a few snapshots of everyday life that typified the seasonal experience in the New York area. Here is what I came up with. You all can tell me if, judging by the goings down that I saw, summer was actually here or not.

Shameless!!

WallStreetBull

1. People groping the Wall Street Bull. This was almost sad. Day after day, as long as the weather was clear, this sculpture was surrounded by clumps of tourists or local yahoos, who thought it was funny to basically molest it in broad daylight. Now, I understand that the artist created an atomically correct statue, and people have probably been doing this since the bull was unveiled, but does that make it right? I don’t think so. Every day the scene repeated itself: yahoos like the ones pictured here, and even demure-looking young Asian women who probably lead otherwise respectable lives back home, would stop and cop a feel while grinning for the camera. Is this summer?

LivingArt

2. Performance artists. Okay, in New York City, serious artists come out on the street all year round, especially if the ground is clean and dry. Case in point: The well-dressed tin man pictured here. This guy was in the Bowling Green area a few times during the “summer” and blended in seamlessly with the metal pedestal he sat on, until I stared, realized he was performing and got a snapshot. He caught me snapping his picture on my phone and moments later, he returned the favor. LOL! Another encouraging sign of summer. We’re getting there.

3. Sweethearts walking hand in hand. I meant to catch this couple, tap them on the shoulder and ask them to say cheese for the camera. Really. I’ve done that before. But I couldn’t do that with this couple. They were moving too fast, and there was no way for me to catch up with them and pay them the complement of asking them, as an attractive couple, to say cheese for me and my little blog. So I snapped ’em like this. It’s a pity though, because they are a Latte Cafe kind of couple. Yes, a couple of sweethearts walking down the street hand in hand counts for summer. OrangeSkirt

The Distinguished Gentleman from Massachusetts

Up until today, when I watched the clip of Edward M. Kennedy’s speech to the Democratic National Convention in Denver, I hadn’t thought of posting anything about his passing. What else could I say or add? The New York Times has given the most thorough and elegant appraisal of his life that will probably be read in any newspaper anywhere. Whatever I know about Ted Kennedy I learned from newspapers and history books, not from personal experience. Then I paused at the thought, that his work didn’t touch my life personally. This guy has a tremendous body of work in the U.S. Senate, he championed civil rights and kept pressing forward for legislation that would make universal health care possible in the United States. (Despite well-publicized accounts of gun-toting, unruly rabbles at various town hall meetings, I believe that most Americans would be in favor of reasonably administered universal health care.)

He kept the late President Ronald Reagan from weakening the Voting Rights Act of 1965, which originally gave blacks the right to vote and outlawed hurdles that would stop others from exercising that right. So from civil rights to other provisions we take for granted, like the Americans with Disabilities Act, this man has had a tremendous influence on us all. I don’t think the Kennedy legacy is a myth at all. For all the obvious advantages that their connections gave them in American society, they used their influence to try to make people’s lives better. It says a lot about an individual when he doesn’t rest on his family’s wealth and just hang out, but goes into Washington politics for goodness sake, and racks up accomplishments that improves people’s lives. It speaks to empathy and compassion, and the grit and will to stick to the work until you have something good to show for it.

Like many other great men, his legacy is mixed. I’m sure the parents and family of Mary Jo Kopechne, a former teacher, never got the closure they needed after her death. His reputation suffered permanently for that, and considering the fact that an innocent life was lost under shady circumstances, well, who can blame the doubters. But I don’t think he was an evil, selfish murderer. He has probably been sorry for that episode right up until he died, and that’s an awful burden.

I hear that President Barack Obama will give the eulogy at his funeral. What an honor. And it’s fitting too, that President Obama would be chosen to say goodbye, on behalf of all of us, whose lives are better in more ways than we realize because of Senator Kennedy’s work.

Anyway, here is a clip of Senator Kennedy’s speech at the Democratic National Convention in Denver in August 2008. It is inspiring for many reasons. This man was battling brain cancer, but like he said in the opening, nothing would keep him away on that special night. And although I respect Republicans and give them due credit for their roles in making America (in some ways) the envy of the world, only the Democrats, in my opinion, are sincere in empathizing with people, struggling along with them, and helping them rise to reach their potential and lead better lives. From my lone perspective—and believe me, I read extensively from a wide variety of pundits, politicians and preachers—only the Democrats embrace all the ideals of justice, fairness and inclusiveness for everyone. Without hesitation.

I grew up listening to both Republican and Democratic speeches. And while the Republicans always have a way of making me feel excluded, the Democrats make me choke up every time. Over passages like this, from Senator Kennedy:

We are told that Barack Obama believes too much in an America of high principle and bold endeavor. But when John Kennedy thought of going to the moon, he didn’t say “It’s too far to get there. We shouldn’t even try.” Our people answered his call, and rose to the challenge. And today an American flag still marks the surface of the moon. Yes, we are all Americans. This is what we do. We reach the moon. We scale the heights. I know it. I’ve seen it. I’ve lived it, and we can do it again.

A ‘Something New’ Preview: I Can Do Bad

For better or worse, Tyler Perry is making his mark on the American entertainment industry and cutting a new path for African-Americans in film. We can sit around and debate where that path is taking us, but I’d rather not. I’ve said it in a previous ‘Guess Who?’ movie review that I personally think Perry’s films leave a lot to be desired: plausible plot lines, well-drawn and charismatic characters, elegance. But like it or not, his stories appeal to a lot of African-Americans, enough to give him the financial independence and influence it takes to get his feature films distributed broadly. Each success has a multiplier effect on his film production career and his genre of filmmaking. I wish Perry could make that creative leap and produce a story without predictable, soap opera-like narratives. But maybe he doesn’t want to. I’m sure that in everyday life, there are people who carry on like the over-the-top characters in his films. And maybe that’s his point: Here are their stories. Learn from them or leave them alone.

With that, you should know that previews of Perry’s new movie “I Can Do Bad All By Myself” are circulating on the Internet. It’s due in theaters on Sept. 11, 2009, and I hope that’s not a bad omen. That I am mentioning the movie here ought to tell you that there is a ‘Guess Who?’ romance embedded in the bigger story. Basically the protagonist, April, is a heavy drinking nightclub singer who lives off of her married boyfriend. When her sister’s three kids are caught burglarizing a house, Madea’s house, the matriarch basically drops the kids at April’s feet with the message: ‘Get your life together and help your family.’ Sandino is a Mexican immigrant and handyman who … can’t you tell where this is going? Take a look at the trailer. I’ve included it so at least I won’t be held directly responsible for giving anything away.

This story originated in 2000 as one of Perry’s stage plays, according to Wikipedia. As far as I can tell from the previews for the movie version, there are five reasons to go see the film:

1. Gladys Knight!

2. Pastor Marvin Winans. Just put a Winans in a decent performing arts venue and I’ll probably show up.

3. I won’t be pretentious. The Madea character cracks me up—that is, when I’m not shrugging and acknowledging her homespun sagacity.

4. Mary J. Blige!  And for good measure, here is her music video based on the song in the movie.

5. Taraji P. Henson has pipes. She can blow. The chile cu’ saaang almost just like Gladys n’ them.

Peace & Quiet

My, oh my how time changes things. About 10 years ago, when I was still in my roaring 20s, and long before that, I used to be totally indifferent about suburban towns. I couldn’t understand what was so attractive about them. Sure, the houses were big, beautiful and richly furnished, but why choose the prettiness of places like Cranford, Westfield or Ridgewood, when one could have all of life’s conveniences at their disposal while living in a major or second-tier metropolitan area? Not to mention all the fun people in their 20s can scare up in a big city! I have always loved city life, and I probably always will. But after an errand out to Mamaroneck in Westchester County last week, I put a few more points in the pro-suburb column.
We drove out to Mamaroneck to look at a station wagon. Hubby’s friend was selling the car because he and his family are moving out of the country for a few years. We need a bigger car, because between Baby’s car seat and my little sister, we’ve sort of outgrown my trusty Corolla. This car is older, but has been gently used and meticulously maintained, so we saw this as a quick solution to our problem. (We eventually did buy the car, and I’m pretty happy with it. Little Sister, too. You should see her strutting over to the car in her wedges and sunglasses, popping her gum and reclining on its plush leather seats. Too much.) Anyway, Hubby’s friend directed us to the highways and major county roads to test drive it. As we made our way through historic and upscale towns like Rye and Larchmont, respectively, it was a revelation. Not once did I hear any sirens, spousal arguments or gunshots. No neighborhood drunks ambled their way past our house, no snoops watched my front door (although I’m sure these cosmopolitan suburbs have their share of uppity nuisance neighbors) and I didn’t see one prostitute. I felt like I had just gotten over a headache.

I asked myself several questions. Is this how other educated professionals live?  Why aren’t we doing this? We could live in a town where the quality of the schools, hospitals and other public services are not always in question. I’m sure people in Westchester County have to deal with their share of nonsense, but coming from a community that the rest of the world sees as dysfunctional, I felt like it couldn’t be all bad. I happened to marry a left-leaning guy who has no use for places like Larchmont and Rye. He calls these places “crusty”, knowing that I’ll get annoyed and chide him,  “Just say upper crust! G-d!” Then I realized the property taxes on these pretty little, well-kept farm houses probably equal my annual net salary. Yes, my company is that cheap, and life in New York is that pricey. When I was growing up in Paterson, Mommy would always listen to news radio in the morning. During the traffic report, the announcer usually gave an update on roads passing through ‘Sleepy Hollow’ and other places that sounded weird to me. It sounded surreal. How could any place in the world, which I assumed to be as ethnically diverse and restless as inner cities, ever be so tame and sleep inducing?

Baby'sFeetFor a few moments, I wondered what it would be like to raise Baby in a place like that. But the thought of paying nearly the equivalent of the U.S. median income in property taxes quickly brought me back to my senses. It could never happen. Hubby and I would have to have the sort of intense, demanding jobs that would drive him to chain smoke and push me to knock a few back several times a week, just to unwind. We probably wouldn’t be very nice people to be around on a typical day. And then what sort of parents would we be to this precious little girl? Newark definitely makes me want to roll my eyes and cover my face in shame on occasion. But at least we are able to make a reasonable life here. We can take time out to read interesting books (the excellent book in this shot, near Hubby’s foot is titled: ‘Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans?’) I can blog and share my insights with you gentle readers. I spend so much of my free time with Baby that Hubby remarked today: “Sometimes I think you two are siamese twins.” I haven’t exactly completed the assimilation process—ditching the inner city for suburban life in any one of America’s upscale towns. Still ‘dealing’ with the inner city. We are OK, though, me the child of Jamaican immigrants and Hubby, with his left-of-center, off-color remarks about “prissy”, sorry “pretty” places like Westchester County.