On Lily's iPod: A Double Shot

Lily hit the music jackpot today! I was out running some errands to complete the packing list I made for my upcoming business/vacation trip. I cruised into Virgin Megastore do to a little window shopping and ended up scoring on the $10/CD sale. My dollars equals your possible listening pleasure today!

“Back to Black” by Amy Winehouse


In a recent post, I mentioned Amy Winehouse being a part of the new wave of British Songstresses taking over the music industry. While I enjoy Corinne Bailey Rae and Lily Allen – something about Winehouse’s soulful vocals and hard-as-nails attitude that makes me a huge fan.

If you’re looking for a delicate chanteuse, don’t get near this CD! From the opening lyrics of the first track, “Rehab” you just KNOW that Amy Winehouse has a story to tell. She’s lives a life that hasn’t always been pretty, nor has she been an angel. But you get the feeling that she’s not about to apologize for that fact. Oh no…she’s going to flaunt it in front of your face while drinking a Rickstasy.

She’s not the perfect pop princesses like Britney, Jessica, or Hilary. And she’s not the hyper-cynical rocker chick that Avril wants to be. This isn’t to say I can’t appreciate these girls and their music…it’s just not appealing to a female over the age of 25. Let’s face it – at that point you’re done pining over crushes and mooning over a break-up. We’re talking heartbreak. We’re talking revenge. They’re dealing with boys – Winehouse and others like her are dealing with men.

Make no mistake: Winehouse is more Rizzo than Sandra Dee, which puts her up there with a singer like Pink. They take no prisoners and say it like they see it because she’s seen it all and experienced it all. You can’t help but feel like you can relate to the growling vocals and head bobbing beats.

“Back to Black” is a 10-track ode to not only Winehouse’s life in lyrics, but a sound from days gone by. Taking inspiration from the 50’s and 60’s sound of girl groups and Phil Specter’s “Wall of Sound,” you can’t help but think you’ve heard this stuff before. Hell, one of the tracks is actually entitled, “Me & Mr. Jones.” But thanks to the talents of producers Salaam Remi and Mark Ronson, “Back to Black” breathes life into the style which only strengthens Winehouse’s words and vocal talents. With this style as the soundtrack, you are taken back to the days where women sung of being done wrong and lost loves.

There is a bonus 11th track on the CD – a version of “You Know I’m No Good” with a few bars thrown down by rappers Ghostface Killahs. This seems to be the only deviation to the feel of the entire album. The rest of the CD is definitely well paced and builds on each track.

With this effort, Amy Winehouse sets herself apart from the rest of the pack. She’s the voice of the 25-35 year old set, a voice that seems to be lacking in popular music. If you’re looking for a modern day Dusty Springfield or a gritty Tina Turner for the 00’s, “Back to Black” is your sure fire ticket!

“Life in Cartoon Motion” by Mika


I’ll be honest – I don’t know what to make of Mika. He’s got a five range octave. He dresses like the front man for the band All American Rejects. But he borrows from the Ziggy Stardust/Freddie Mercury school of performance. The artwork on his CD (done by his artist sister, Yasmine, a.k.a. Dawack) reminds me of “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.” The sound is modern – but like a throwback to 80’s synth pop.

I do know one thing: I really dig this album!

Sure, it’s a mish-mosh of things I’ve probably heard before and liked. Entertanment Weekly smartly points this out in their review of the album. “C’mon, play the matching game! What is ‘Big Girl’? An update of Queen’s ‘Fat Bottomed Girls’! How about ‘Relax’? A Bee-Gees-ish shout-out to Frankie Goes to Hollywood!”

Mika’s track choices had me conjuring making parallels to everything from pieces of “King Herod’s Song” (from Jesus Christ Superstar) to the attitude of “The Rocky Horror Picture Show.” The album is nothing short of flamboyant and can be listened to several times a day.

Everything old seems to be new again with music. But that’s what I love about this album. It reminds me of so many good things, which is something we seem to lack today. Every track is catchy with a hook that you can’t help but sing along with. “Life in Cartoon Motion” is exactly what it promises in the title – a fun and wild ride through the talent that is Mika.

Like or hate it, you have to admit that Mika’s sound is different from anything on the charts right now. The guitars mixed with the piano playing under his charming falsetto takes you back to when Elton John wasn’t a pissed-off jerk. Every track on the CD is effortless and light, even in the serious “Any Other World.” The use of symphonic strains is a welcome change and lovely addition when used.

While “Grace Kelly” and “Love Today” have received a lot of airplay – you cannot over look fun tracks like “Lollipop” and the aforementioned “Big Girl (You Are Beautiful).” You’ll also enjoy the harmonies provided by the children and gospel-esque choirs that sing back-up through the album.

Mika may not be a musical genius in this debut effort in terms of being new and breakthrough – but it’s smart in that it delivers something different. Much like its secretive creator, “Living in Cartoon Motion” provides a different look. It might be a look to the past, but it’s a look into something beautiful and lyrical.

How can you hate that?

MGF Blast from the Past: Boy Gone Stupid

Big Bad Joe Francis is in trouble with the law...big surprise right? With that in mind, just thought I'd haul out this little gem to re-read! Enjoy! - Lily

Joe Francis, the founder of the "Girls Gone Wild" empire, is humiliating me. He has my face pressed against the hood of a car, my arms twisted hard behind my back. He's pushing himself against me, shouting: "This is what they did to me in Panama City!"

It's after 3 a.m. and we're in a parking lot on the outskirts of Chicago. Electronic music is buzzing from the nightclub across the street, mixing easily with the laughter of the guys who are watching this, this me-pinned-and-helpless thing.

Francis isn't laughing.

The above is an excerpt from Claire Hoffman’s LA Times article entitled, “Baby, Give Me a Kiss.” I don’t know whose idea this was – whether Hoffman pitched it or whether her bosses asked her to do it – but one thing is for damn sure: She didn’t sign-up for that.

I never really paid much attention to the GGW franchise, or its spawn, “Guys Gone Wild.” I figure that everyone has different triggers, you know? If you’re a young woman who wants to show your tah-tahs…fine. If you’re a guy who wants to spend your hard earned cash on girl’s showing their tah-tahs…more power to you! Sex isn’t a new invention. It is embedded in all civilizations in one way or another. Today, we increasingly push the boundaries of how much sex is involved in our lives.

As they say, sex sells. And boy, do we buy what sex is selling!

So, while I don’t look down at any form of titillation (as long as it’s consensual and doesn’t involve death) that is sold by people like Joe Francis, I do worry about the people behind it. You see, it’s not the smut we should be worrying about – it’s the Smut Seller that worries me.

Hoffman’s article is a perfect illustration of why we should be worried. And to be very blunt – GGW should worry everyone more than the next Jenna Jameson gig! Why? The man behind the power is a hardcore misogynist who gives the good guys a bad name.

While most of the young male population would hail Francis as a hero, I fear that we have a sexual predator running loose. Francis is very seductive in that he has the power, the money, and the aura to talk the talk and walk the walk. But never far from the shadow of his success are the numerous lawsuits and charges of sexual offenses. The LAT piece even chronicles Hoffman’s interview with women who did participate in the GGW shoot she went to in Chicago.

For those of you who will not spend the time reading Hoffman’s article, I’ll sum it up for you: They thought it was a good idea at the time. But after being plied with alcohol and not being listened to when they said “no,” the idea and glamour behind participation quickly faded away.

Francis and his lawyers claim great excuses or point the finger at the legal documents that the girls signed away. But no matter how many legal documents you present in court – the ugly monster that is Francis’ behavior always manages to rear its head. He has an explanation for everything and an accusation for everyone. Hoffman’s editor asked Francis about the Chicago incident, and Francis was quick to blame Hoffman:

"I just felt that Claire may have had a little affinity for me," he says as she takes notes. "It may have come out when she had a few drinks." He describes my behavior as aggressively romantic. "Originally she hit on me. That's how I met her. I took her to a lunch. She called me all the time and it wasn't about work. It was about me. I know when a girl has a crush on me."

If Hoffman had a crush on Francis, that notion was probably quickly erased when she found herself face down on the hood of a car with an inebriated man pressing down upon her. I don’t know about you – but when you are on the receiving end of close fisted blow to the face – you may have been doing something wrong.

As George Michael once sang, “Sex is natural, sex is fun…” but with men like Joe Francis rampant in the adult entertainment industry, sex is still about exploiting power, money, and innocence. It’s not just about the end product, folks. What happens behind the camera is just as important as what happens in front of the camera.

And if what’s happening behind the GGW cameras is true – is it any surprise that sex still has a negative connotation in our society?

Why is it Always the Quiet Ones?

I’m sitting here reading and watching the fallout from the Virginia Tech shooting and I can’t help but be awed by the fact that we’ve been here before. It’s Day 2 and what do we know?

According to all the news agencies, we know the shooter was 23-year-old Cho Seung-Hui. His family emigrated to the U.S. from South Korea in the early 90’s. Cho was a senior English major with emphasis in creative writing. Already, VA Tech officials are stating that Cho had recently been referred to the counseling service as being troubled.

And we know we have a standard list of questions: What could have driven him to this act of rage and violence? Did he hate his classmates? If he was so pissed off, why couldn’t he just off himself? How could he be capable of this? Why was his writing so disturbed? Was this the culmination of a life of disappointment?

But we always ask these questions. Every time someone goes into a school and decides to open fire – we try to make sense of the tragedy with the same recycled questions. As the news rolls on and on about the lives lost and the reasons behind the shootings, I’ve developed a question of my own.

Why is quiet so dangerous?

Everything I’ve heard about Cho says all the same thing: He was a quiet guy who pretty much kept to himself. What forces someone to withdraw like that – to become an observer, not a participant in life around him. And worse off – why didn’t anyone around him pick up on it? Like BrownSuga pointed out last night, what if just ONE person had become concerned for his quietness? Makes you wonder how different yesterday would have been.

Another thought that keeps nagging at me is why do these things happen in supposedly quiet places. Virginia may be the bastion of hunting and outdoor life, but it’s not exactly the crime capital of the nation. If we look back at the history of school shootings – most of these places were ideal locations for top-notch learning.

Littleton, CO was a mid to upper class town when the Columbine happened. Santee was just starting to grow quickly in San Diego County when a student put Santana High School on lockdown. Virginia Tech is a rowdy college like all colleges is rowdy – but the education and location are ideal. What in these environments drive people to commit acts of gross violence?

As with all the questions we ask in times like this – the answers are never easy. I’d be surprised if we ever get an answer.

But one thing I know for sure is that I don’t think I’ll look at quiet the same way again.

Brownsuga's sweet spot: MGF Blast from the past : Please listen to what I'm not saying

If you have a television, radio or computer (or my dad) then you know today was a tremendously sad day at Virginia Tech. What I have to believe was a very sad and angry man went on a shooting rampage this morning. He killed 33 people including himself and wounded over 30 others. Of course tonight and for years to come many people will spend time trying to figure out what would make anyone do this. With this in mind I would like to post something that was given to me when I needed it. And it makes me wonder could something have been different if someone had listened to what this shooter wasnot saying?

~BrownSuga

Please Listen to What I am not saying

Don’t be fooled by me. Don’t be fooled by the face I wear. For I wear a mask; I wear a thousand masks I’m afraid to take off and none of them are me.

I give you the impression that I’m secure, that confidence is my name and coolness my game, that the water’s calm and I’m in command, and that I need no one. But don’t believe me. Please.

My surface may seem smooth…beneath I dwell in confusion, in fear, in aloneness. But I hide this. I panic at the thought of my weakness and fear being exposed. That’s why I frantically create a mood to hide behind, a nonchalant, sophisticated façade to shield me from the glance that knows. But such a glance is my salvation. And I know it.

It’s the only thing that can assure me of acceptance and love. I’m afraid you’ll think less of me that you’ll laugh. Your laugh would kill me.

So I play my game, my desperate pretending game, with a façade of assurance without and a trembling child within. And so my life becomes a front. I idly chatter to you in the suave surface tones…I tell you everything that’s nothing and nothing of what’s everything---if what’s crying within me. So when I go into my routine do not be fooled by what I’m saying. Please listen carefully to hear what I am not saying.

I dislike the superficial, phony game I’m playing. I’d like to be genuine and spontaneous. You’ve got to hold out your hand even when it seems to be the last thing I seem to want or need. Only you can call me into aliveness. Each time you’re kind, gentle, encouraging, each time you try to understand because you really care, my heart begins to grow wings. Small wings. Very feeble wings.

I want you to know how important you are to me, how you can be a creator of the person that is me if you choose to. But it will not be easy for you. A long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls.

The nearer you approach me, the blinder I may strike back. It is irrational. Despite what the books say, I am irrational. I fight against the very things I cry out for. But I am told that love is stronger than walls, and therein lies my hope. Please try to beat down these firm walls with firm but gentle hands --- for a child is very sensitive.

Who am I, you may wonder? I am someone you know very well. I am every many and every woman you meet.

-Anonymous

Let’s Not Wait Until the Water Runs Dry

Dear Bravo TV,

Hello there you Pop Culture Mavens, you!

I have to say – next to the Food Network – you take up a lot of my TiVo time. And I’m happy to say that I have been satisfied with the stuff you’ve been throwing on the TV. There is a lot of crap out there thanks to “Reality TV,” but you are above the test crowd in most cases.

It started with “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy.” Genius I tell you! Give a generally nice, straight guy a make-over from head to living space. Even men need a little confidence boost! And who better to do it than a gay man? It’s the closes thing to Fairy Godfathers you’ll ever find. I’ve been saying for years that gay men have the best eye for style. They are honest because they want everyone to look and be fabulous! Besides, you couldn’t find a more entertaining group of men than the Fab Five? I adored Carson and Ted! Too bad they’ve gone to the TV Graveyard with their cancellation. But, it was entertaining while it lasted!

Then you really hit your stride with “Project Runway.” OMG! Best. Show. EVER! I knew the fashion industry could be bitchy and narcissistic – but WOW! There was better drama than any show the Big Three Networks were putting out at the time. If it weren’t for the fact that these people were competing for a prize, you could have your very own little soap opera ala “The Bold and the Beautiful!” And the characters on this show! They can’t get any better than the villainous Santino, the rebellious Jeffrey, the unstable Wendy, “Bad Mommy” Laura…these were not your cardboard cutout reality nuts. There were actual LAYERS to it all! And how can you not love Tim Gunn and “Make it Work?!” You found lightening in a bottle and I cannot wait for Season 4!

So after a couple of great seasons with PR, you decided why not see if you could strike gold again? And you did with the tasty “Top Chef!” There was a little doubt with your hardcore fans. Could food be just as dramatic as fashion? OH HELL YES! Who can forget when Dave and Stephen got drunk the night before they were supposed to help Tiffany in the final? Season 2 smoothed out the rough edges when you ditched Katie Lee, brought in Padma, and made Chef Colicchio more visible as a mentor. And you brought “hot” back to the kitchen with the likes of Chef Harold and Chef Sam. My stomach and heart were much warmed.

You were on a roll! And then something weird happened. As you barreled down to the much anticipated Season 2 finale of “Top Chef,” you started airing your promos for your next effort, “Top Design.” This didn’t take off so much, despite the inclusion of such drama queens as Goil, Carissa, and Ryan. No one is perfect and besides, you needed something to fill the void while Project Runway and Top Chef get their acts together for their next seasons.

However, in the middle of “Top Design,” the promos for “Shear Genius” started to roll out. Twelve hairstylists battle it out for $100,000 and hair designing supremacy. You’ve hired a Charlie’s Angel (Jaclyn Smith) to get it done, and by the looks of the first episode, the bitchery and claws are out from the get go.

Hairstyling? C’mon now, Bravo! What’s next, dog breeding (“Top Bitch”)? Oh, I know -- how about you have a competition about gardening (“Hedge and Shoulders Above the Rest”)? Are you planning on putting the nation’s top latte art on display as well (“Espresso Yourself”)?

Are you trying to kill the guys at Project Rungay by making them write more blogs?

STOP THE MADNESS! You have gone to the well too many times!

You are in serious danger of becoming a cliché in the world of reality game shows. The fact that you were different was the reason why we all flocked to your channel in the first place! If we wanted carbon copies of everything, we’d ditch cable! I miss the plucky, culture conscious Bravo TV.

Everyday of the week was something different. And when you didn’t have your big hitters in the line up, I could always rely on something fun and cool like “West Wing” reruns or the multi-hour festiveness that was “The 100 Greatest TV Characters of All Time.” How hilarious was it that you revived “Battle of the Network Stars?” Heck, I even enjoyed “Inside the Actor’s Studio” because I could make fun of the seriously pretentious James Lipton and/or the actor being highlighted.

But now, I turn onto you and it’s “Project Runway,” except with pots, or interior design, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. TAKE IT DOWN A NOTCH FOLKS!

Please don’t let me turn on the television one day to find you’re doing a Pong Tournament! You are the medical researcher of Pop Culture, Bravo! Put your fingers BACK on the pulse of pop culture. We depend on you to encapsulate it for us and occasionally be apart of the fray.

It is entirely possible for a NETWORK to jump the shark. Don’t be the first one to do so!

Sincerely yours,

Lily White
Concerned Fan/Viewer

MGF Blast From the Past: Dance, Monkey, DANCE!

Ain't real life a bitch? LOL -- here's a little tidbit from the recent past to keep you pondering until I reach more level ground! - Lily

Okay, for the last day or so, my e-mail has been spotted with these “Lily, you have to read this article by Maureen Dowd” e-mails. For those of you out of the loop, Dowd is a columnist with the New York Times. In the July 5, 2006 late edition, she penned a short opus entitled “How to Train a Woman.”

Dowd poses the question in her piece, “Does it [training] work? And can you do it while you’re dating or should wait until you’re married?”

This all started with fellow New York Times writer, Amy Sutherland. Sutherland wrote about her experience in deciding to apply the techniques of exotic animal trainers in changing certain behavior habits of her husband, Scott. Sutherland discovered that by rewarding him for even the smallest of good behavior (i.e. slowing down in traffic, putting his shorts in the hamper, etc.), she could change his behavior. I believe the parallel was the training of a baboon to jump was akin to training your spouse to pick up after themselves.

Dowd’s article takes a look at the flip side of the equation. It works for men; can these techniques work for women? The inevitable point is made that women are different than men. According to a Rutgers’s anthropologist Dowd quotes in her writing, women are more verbal and respond to intimacy, especially face to face. The claim is made that this behavior comes from years of holding children directly in front of their faces. So yes, women can probably be trained to change.

Now, I really didn’t have a problem with either of the articles from a writing standpoint. They were both well written and researched. I’ll even venture to say that they made a few (emphasis on FEW) valid points. What I did have a problem with; however, is the insinuation that there is a need to change the behavior of your significant other or spouse.

If your significant other or spouse really needed some major behavioral change…why did you hook up with them in the first place?

As it’s been mentioned on MGF Blog before, the Gender War is best not fought with the usual rhetoric. Unless you’ve got something new to say, just keep it to yourself. In the years since the Battle of the Sexes started, we have come to understand two simple truths:

1. Men are who they are because they’re male.
2. Women are who they are because they’re female.

Each gender has their own annoying quirks and behaviors – but it’s also part of what makes us attractive to each other. Like the old cliché says, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!”

It drives me nuts when I read things about “changing” people and their basic behavior. Sure there are a bunch of little things that drive me bonkers about Lenny’s habits (*cough cough* Shaving *cough cough*). But they’re not exactly deal breakers. I’m 100% positive Lenny has some choice things to say about a few of my habits as well.

However, the moment I think “If I see just ONE MORE DAMN episode of classic Star Trek, I’m going to divorce him,” it’s a sign that things are much much worse than we’d like to admit to ourselves.

What’s more insulting is that both Sutherland and Dowd make both men and women no better than circus animals. It’s demeaning to me that Sutherland would treat her husband like a trained baboon (and let’s not get started on actually PUBLISHING it)! We’re better than other animals because we have the ability to verbally communicate. Sadly though, we chose to simply ignore it most of the time.

Why even entertain the trickery, ladies and gents? In my experience, real adults hate to be treated like anything but a human. I know, I know – some of them are so immature, Lily! Well…then find one that fits your state of mind. There is someone out there for every one; it just takes time to find them. When you resort to “training” your significant other, it means you done the unforgivable. You’ve settled.

What Dowd and Sutherland are stoking the fire with is nothing new. People have been sticking to the cry “I can change them” for years. But, once again, just because people do it doesn’t make it right! Instead of wondering how you can train the current love of your life how to fit to your needs – why not spend the time trying to find someone who DOES fit your needs mentally, emotionally, and physically?

It comes down to this: You have to love someone and respect them enough to be their imperfect selves. If you can’t handle that, you have no business being together.

Leave the jumping to the baboons.

Skeletons in My Closet

I was flipping through the channels this weekend and came across one of the cheesy Made for TV movies that they put on constant loop on women oriented networks. I don’t know what the story was, nor did it have Valerie Bertinelli in it. The only reason why I stayed more the 30 seconds on the channel was because my finger slipped from the channel button, thus leaving me in TV wasteland purgatory.

Note to self: Never moisturize your hands directly before going on a channel flipping frenzy.

Before I could get away from the female melodrama – one of the characters sinisterly said to another, “Everyone has something to hide. I’ll find your skeleton in the closet.”

I managed to get off of the channel. But like that last song you hear getting out of your car to go into your workplace – the line freaking’ got stuck in my head! I think it ticked me off because the piece of schlock writer of that movie was right.

There are things in our lives that we are all afraid to admit to. Granted, their not the “Folsom Prison Blues” or “Desperate Housewives” kind of stuff (thankfully). They’re usually more like the “I Have a Secret Shrine to Leif Garrett” kind of things. However, there are these little quirks that we would simply be MORTIFIED if our closest friends were privy to them.

Truly – these little skeletons are small things. But the human ego is such that any exposure to weaknesses sends us back into the depths of our secret closet hideaway. We’re afraid of ridicule and the opinions of others. We’re afraid people would reject us. We’re afraid people will laugh and point.

With this in mind today, I started writing down all the things that would embarrass me. When I reached page two – I decided that this was something that I needed to blog about. So after some careful consideration, I’ve decided to do spring clean some skeletons out of the closet. Why? Perhaps I’m a masochist – or a glutton for punishment. Or maybe I just have this sick wish to entertain total strangers with bits of my life?

But truthfully, I think it’s time I come clean with this kind of stuff. I am who I am, I like what I like, and I do what I do. Shouldn’t we all embrace the things we’ve done or will do (I’m talking to YOU political candidates!)? If we come clean with these things now, I think they avoid those really humiliating moments when they come out as “surprises.”

Forgive MGF Faithful…for I have sinned…

I like to listen to Tom Jones – Thanks to my Dad, me and Mr. Jones have this thing going on. If I were born in a time before mine, I probably would have been one of those screaming women who threw their panties on stage in front of the Welsh Sex Bomb. Back in the day, Tom was definitely the man. He had the voice, the body, the moves, and the charisma to make the girls faint. Yes, I understand he’s a leathery mess now. However, if you can just listen to the exciting and heart throbbing 1971 Live at Caesars Palace recording and tell me you can resist.

I can and will cry to get my way (in the appropriate situation) – I know what you’re thinking men. It’s just not fair! A woman crying over ANYTHING just tugs at your heart strings. And it’s simply emotional blackmail for me to use it against anyone. But you know what? You fall for it every time! So I think it’s a two-way street.

I might be wearing head gear while writing this - When I was writing my novel, I was prone to writer’s block. Even after a year of writing on the blog, I still get stuck. The solution? A tiara. Yes, I sit in front of my computer in my sleepwear and a tiara. Happy now?

Sometimes, I flirt just to see if can – This one is a toughie, because I do feel guilt after this. I love my Lenny – I’d never leave him. He’s my first everything and it’s been wonderful. But there’s that little spot in my head that wonders if I have what it takes to catch someone’s attention. It’s a fleeting moment that comes maybe once or twice a year. My weapon of choice is usually clever banter and sports. And when I walk away…it’s over. I have no desire to buy a new vehicle, but sometimes it’s nice to check out the floor models.

So there. Dirty little secrets no more! Are you laughing? Are you disappointed? Are you judging me? If you are doing any one of these things, just remember one thing: I came clean…can you?

BrownSuga’s sweet spot: The Philly Sound

“… that's when to be hot was cool. to care was correct. to be involved was without examination or explanation cause it was just the right thing to do to creatively express yourself while knowing who you and your people are

that's when everybody was young including the world we lived in and the people who oppressed us and everybody just kept hoping that if we all lived long enough to grow up maybe just maybe we would survive racism and maybe they would give it up and an older world would be safer and more hopeful and somehow younger than the young world we were living in

that's when we wore our bell bottoms and earth shoes and afros that reached the sky and the guys practically poured themselves into their jeans so that they moved slower while we had more physical mobility so we moved quicker and the media had begun warning black men about the "dangers" of loving black women…”

~Nikki Giovanni When Gamble & Huff ruled

In 1963 two men, Kenneth Gamble and Leon Huff, began a relationship that would change a generation. It was then “The Philly Sound” was born. At a time when dreamers were being assassinated but people didn’t want the dream to die, something or someone had to remind them that though times are rough you’ve got to keep going.

“Wake up everybody no more sleepin in bed
No more backward thinkin time for thinkin ahead
The world has changed so very much
From what it used to be so
there is so much hatred war an' poverty”

Harold Melvin & The Blue Notes Wake Up Everybody

The Philly Sound was the sound of my parent’s generation and is defined as music with a beat that you can dance to. In the 60s and 70s blacks in America needed something they could be proud of, even if it’s only their music. And Gamble & Huff created a library of number one hits for that purpose. From the O’Jays to Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes, the music created can still get people dancing.

When it came to music, I always would say that maybe I was born in the wrong generation but now I realize that isn’t true. My parents were born in the 50s and they raised children who, although born in the 70s and 80s, could appreciate The Philly Sound. So Gamble & Huff created a sound for my generation as well.

One particular story I found interesting about how and where they wrote their music is the story of “Me & Mrs. Jones”. At a diner they frequented they noticed a man their every day waiting. And everyday at the same time a pretty woman would join the man. They named the woman “Mrs. Jones” and a hit was created. Sung by Billy Paul in 1972 it stayed at the #1 spot for 3 weeks.

“We meet ev'ry day at the same cafe,
Six-thirty I know she'll be there,
Holding hands, making all kinds of plans
While the jukebox plays our favorite song.

Me and Mrs., Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones,
Mrs. Jones got a thing going on,
We both know that it's wrong,
But it's much too strong to let it cool down now.”

Billy Paul Me & Mrs. Jones

What some people don’t realize is that The Philly Sound was not Motown nor was it competition for Motown. Gamble & Huff loved and respected Motown but their music was different. And in the last decade their music is reaching out to a whole other generation. Donald Trump’s The Apprentice uses For the Love of Money by The O’Jays as their theme, a Gamble & Huff hit. Office Depot uses Rubberband Man by The Spinners. Nicolas Cage sings La-La Means I Love You by The Delfonics in the movie Family Man. One of the most frequently heard themes is for the television show Soul Train. The theme called TSOP (The Sound of Philadelphia) was the definition of Gamble & Huff.

Their music transcends generations and for that I am grateful. I can appreciate new music but my childhood was filled with the music of Gamble & Huff. As a family we danced and sang in the house, in the car in the market. If you’ve never heard their music they have over 170 gold and platinum albums. Below is just a small list of their music if you want a full list of the music these two legendary men created check out their site. Enjoy

Dee Dee Sharp – Ooh Child

The Intruders - I’ll Always Love My Mama (perfect to sing for May 13^th J )

The O’Jays – Backstabbers, Love Train, I Love Music, Family Reunion

The Stylistics – Break up to Make up, I’m Stone in Love with you, You make Me Feel Brand New, You’re a Big Girl Now, Betcha By Golly Wow…basically anything by the Stylistics

Hoppy Days Are Here Again...

Happy Easter Everyone!

May today be full of goodies, family, and memories!

- Lily

William Shakespeare: Man, Legend, Smack Down King

T-shirt available at Busted Tees

Having developed a taste for the theatre, I started reading Shakespeare before high school. I did a few monologues for Drama Camp at the Globe and I dabbled in his sonnets the summer previous to that. It wasn’t easy! Elizabethan English might as well have been Engrish. But as I started to read more, I discovered the joy that is Shakespeare’s genius.

What I came to appreciate was not that Shakespeare’s writing had a lyrical sense to it. Nor was it the fact that he is one of the greatest storytellers of all time. And it wasn’t the fact that some call his work the greatest in the English language. While Shakespeare was all those things, he became a literary hero to me for one reason.

Shakespeare was the original Insult King.

He may have penned in the play Titus Andronicus that “Sweet mercy is nobility’s truest badge,” but verbal mercy is NOT what Shakespeare should be remembered for! Let’s face it – despite the fact that he wrote plays loved and viewed by nobility – Shakespeare wrote for the Elizabethan equivalent of the Jerry Springer set.

What we consider high brow literature today – Shakespeare’s insults are the Tudor version of a “Your Mama” joke. They dripped with sarcasm or were as sharp as a knife when said. While Queen Elizabeth adored him, Shakespeare was a man of the people. Therefore he wrote to thrill them. You can imagine the poor Groundlings, standing before the stage, holding a raucous party at The Globe. Eagerly waiting to see who Willy will zing next!

No one knew the cut down like Shakespeare. Sometimes I read them and I burn with jealousy, wishing I had thought of it first! Even though they were written several lifetimes ago, Shakespeare’s words still sting. When I was in London last year, I found a set of magnets at The Globe Theatre that highlighted some of his best:

“Out of my sight! Thou dost infect my eyes!” – Richard III

“Scratching could not make it worse….such a face as yours…” – Much Ado About Nothing

“The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes.” – Coriolanus

“Your breath first kindled the dead coals of wars…” – King John

“Thou crusty batch of nature.” – Troilius and Cresida

“Could I come near your beauty with my nails?” – Henry VI, Part II

“She is spherical, like a globe. I could find out countries in her.” – The Comedy of Errors

“I was searching for a fool when I found you.” – As You Like It

There’s just something more civilized, yet devastatingly efficient about these words. The shock alone would stun a tormentor into silence. I can only picture the wave of destruction that I could unleash by replacing “Your face!” with “You elvish-mark’d abortive rooting hog!” Or imagine how suave you’d sound when coming back at someone who said your putdown was lame with “Better a witty fool than a foolish wit.”

It certainly would set you a part from the rest of the crowd, now wouldn’t it?

If your interest is piqued and you want to dive into more of these sarcastic gems, the internet is full of sites dedicated to the subject. For the classics, the Jolly Old English have set up the definitive Shakespeare Insults Dictionary. At The Shakespearean Insulter, generate a random insult? Click the button and let ‘em rip! Or if you prefer creating your own, get to Ye Olde Official Shakespearean Insult Kit.
Once you’ve gotten your Shakespeare on – go ahead and use it!

I Don't Have to Shake the Sheets to Find Him

I was reading the April issue of Glamour Magazine; I came across a collection of essays that posed variants on the question “What If?” Comedienne Margaret Cho wrote the essay “What If Bigger Were Sexier Than Smaller?” Cho paints a picture of sexiness if dominated by curvy and plus-sized women. The shift to the paradigm that big is beautiful creates a whole new spin on what would be considered trendy.

“There would be no bad carbs, only good ones. Diet Coke would be a joke, and we’d sip milk shakes instead of Evian. In fashion magazines, instead of all those perfume samples, crispy strips of bacon would fall out of the pages.”

No doubt, if “bigger” were the definition of desirable women…life would be great!

But, while there’s a number of topics that I could have written based off of that essay – I all of a sudden felt a little guilt. Sure, women and their body shapes have constantly been a source of angst. Squillions of words have been dedicated to the subject. Here at MGF Blog – I’m guilty of the indulgent luxury of standing on that soapbox screaming about it on a regular basis. After reading Cho’s words, my thoughts weren’t immediately on how unjust and unfair it is that women are worshipped on their size. Nope. My thoughts were COMPLETELY another direction:

I really need to give some blogging love to tubby guys.

I’m sorry ladies – we bitch entirely too much on how we look. (Not saying I won’t stop – just admitting the problem!) I only say this because we actually believe it’s only our problem. But I’ve come to realize in recent time that it’s not. Men are just as vain and insecure about whether or not their butt’s too big.

And they have feelings about it too!

I’m pretty sure that my beloved Lenny is not the chiseled Adonis he would like to be. In fact – he’s just as conscious about his form as I am about mine. It’s interesting to see how Rubenesque men handle their own appearance vanities. This is witnessed by his response to the title of my post tonight.

“You make me sound like I should be riding a moped with my fat twin.”

Sure, he’d love to be thinner, sleeker, and (in his words/thoughts) good looking. As with all humans, we all want to be the better physical versions of ourselves. And just like women suffer the slings and arrows of being compared to Charlize Theron or Jessica Alba – so do our men when we outright and shamelessly drool at Tim McGraw or Daniel Craig.

The fact is – I’m quite happy with my Lenny! I don’t want him to change. Much like I made a conscious decision to try and change my form, that decision to change is solely his. And I’d venture to say that most real women in this world would go for a guy with a little girth, once they understood just how good they’d have it!

Most of the guys I know aren’t built like David Beckham or Kevin Garnett. They’re actually more like Hurley on “Lost.” Even when they’re skinny – they’re not perfect. And you know what? I love hanging out with them. I just wish I could set them up more often.

Pretty boys worry so much about their looks. They’re always preening and checking themselves out. You know how you hated that one cheerleader in high school for doing that every five minutes in Biology Class? Yeah – EVEN MORE ANNOYING on a guy. Pretty boys are competition to you and your fabulousness. There will never be a time where it’s about “you” or “us.” It will always be about “him.” Mr. Perfect never fears being alone. Why? There are four other women out there ready to throw themselves at his body for fleeting moment’s pleasure.

My portly guy? He’s the perfect fit to me. As Sunny Treasures once told me as we were extolling the virtues of our husbands over lunch, “Lenny looks like he’s built for comfort!” And damn…he is definitely comfortable in his own skin. You complain about a little extra padding? I don’t – I have something to curl up next to at night that can keep me warm! And because he knows he can’t compete with Mr. Perfect, he always feels like he won the lottery because you stick with him. And because that’s his mindset – he treats you like a treasure he doesn’t want to lose.

A well-built man is low maintenance. Give them their technology and/or something good to read – and they’re happy. They know how to make you laugh, because they know how to laugh at themselves, you, and the rest of the world.

What else more could you ask for?

So, my Rubenesque brothers…keep on, keepin’ on! There are many women who have much love for you. Don’t fall into the trap of trying to free your inner athlete physique because you want to get more ladies. You wouldn’t want us to change for you – so why should you change for us?

As for my fellow ladies – give Mr. Not-So-Skinny a chance. Pretty boys may run the joint – but a husky man is forever devoted in your loving debt. You will be surprised to find out what you have been missing.

BrownSuga's sweet spot: My Vagina is Angry

About a month ago my mother and I attended the local hospital's presentation of The Vagina Monologues. Originally I saw The Vagina Monologues in college 10 years ago. Created by Eve Ensler, the monologues are stories by women about a woman's most defining body part. For so many years the word vagina was frowned upon and to this day other words (cunt, twat, pussy etc) are still given a bad rap. Here is the monologue My Angry Vagina. Any woman can relate and most will. Men can't begin to fathom some of the things our vaginas deal with. And now...


My Angry Vagina


My vagina's angry. It is. It's pissed off. My vagina's furious and it needs to talk. It needs to talk about all this shit. It needs to talk to you. I mean what's the deal — an army of people out there thinking up ways to torture my poor-ass, gentle loving vagina. Spending their days constructing psycho products, and nasty ideas to undermine my pussy. Vagina Motherfuckers.

All this shit they're constantly trying to shove up us, clean us up — stuff us up, make it go away. Well, my vagina's not going away. It's pissed off and it's staying right here. Like tampons — what the hell is that? A wad of dry fucking cotton stuffed up there. Why can't they find a way to subtly lubricate the tampon? As soon as my vagina sees it, it goes into shock. It says forget it. It closes up. You need to work with the vagina, introduce it to things, prepare the way. That's what foreplay's all about. You got to convince my vagina, seduce my vagina, engage my vagina's trust. You can't do that with a dry wad of fucking cotton.

Stop shoving things up me. Stop shoving and stop cleaning it up. My vagina doesn't need to be cleaned up. It smells good already. Don't try to decorate. Don't believe him when he tells you it smells like rose petals when it's supposed to smell like pussy. That's what they're doing, trying to clean it up, make it smell like bathroom spray or a garden. All those douche sprays, floral, berry, rain. I don't want my pussy to smell like berries or rain. All cleaned up like washing a fish after you cook it. I want to taste the fish. That's why I ordered it.

Then there's those exams. Who thought them up? There's got to be a better way to do those exams. Why the scary paper dress that scratches your tits and crunches when you lie down so you feel like a wad of paper someone threw away? Why the rubber gloves? Why the flashlight all up there like Nancy Drew working against gravity, why the Nazi steel stirrups, the mean cold duck lips they shove inside you? What's that? My vagina's angry about those visits. It gets defended weeks in advance. It won't go out of the house. Then you get there. Don't you hate that? "Scoot down. Relax your vagina." Why? So you can shove mean cold duck lips inside it. I don't think so.

Why can't they find some nice delicious purple velvet and wrap it around me, lay me down on some feathery cotton spread, put on some nice friendly pink or blue gloves, and rest my feet in some fur covered stirrups? Warm up the duck lips. Work with my vagina.

But no, more tortures — dry wad of fucking cotton, cold duck lips, and thong underwear. That's the worst. Thong underwear. Who thought that up? Moves around all the time, gets stuck in the back of your vagina, real crusty butt.

Vagina's supposed to be loose and wide, not held together. That's why girdles are so bad. We need to move and spread and talk and talk. Vaginas need comfort. Make something like that. Something to give them pleasure. No, of course they won't do that. Hate to see a woman having pleasure, particularly sexual pleasure. I mean make a nice pair of soft cotton underwear with a French tickler built in. Women would be coming all day long, coming in the supermarket, coming on the subway, coming happy vaginas. They wouldn't be able to stand it. Seeing all those energized, not taking shit, hot happy vaginas.

If my vagina could talk it would talk about itself like me, it would talk about other vaginas, it would do vagina impressions.

It would wear Harry Winston diamonds, no clothing, just there all draped in diamonds.

My vagina helped release a giant baby. It thought it would be doing more of that. It's not. Now, it wants to travel, doesn't want a lot of company. It wants to read and know things and get out more. It wants sex. It loves sex. It wants to go deeper. It's hungry for depth. It wants kindness. It wants change. It wants silence and freedom and gentle kisses and warm liquids and deep touch. It wants chocolate and trust and beauty. It wants to scream. It wants to stop being angry. It wants to come. It wants to want. It wants. My vagina, my vagina. Well...It wants everything.

Cure the Disease – Not Just the Symptom

I read in my local paper recently that there’s bill in the Arizona legislature that seeks to ban 8th grade certification ceremonies (a.k.a. “graduation”). The bill is being presented as a measure to stem the phenomenal high school dropout rate we have in our state. From what I could gather, the biggest argument was that parents were making a much bigger deal about the graduation than some people believe it is.

The article listed things such as limos, formal dresses, big parties, and lavish gifts as some ancillary causes to our dropout rate. Why? Because by making a big deal about it, supporters of the bill claim we’re sending the message to children that finishing 8th grade is “good enough” education-wise. It’s that sentiment that causes these kids to believe that further schooling is useless. That spells bad news for those living in the lower socio-economic sphere. So, basically the argument is that celebrating 8th grade graduation is partially responsible for kids dropping out of high school.

You’re joking, right?

Someone in my state government seriously thinks that by limiting or getting rid of 8th grade graduation, we’re going to bring up the high school graduation rate? I don’t think so! When it comes to the falling standards of public education – this is no easy fix.

The one thing that the supporters of the bill have correct is that the mindset of 8th grade being enough education to get one through life is a detriment. However, what they’re attacking isn’t what the root cause of the problem. There are bigger and more troubling issues than the ceremony.

Low graduation rates are a problem everywhere, not just Arizona. For years those in the primary and secondary education field have fought to keep kids in school and advance to the point where they get their high school diploma or equivalency certification. It’s a battle that has been two steps forward and one step back. While this bill is a nice idea – they’re only curing the symptom, not the disease. Rather than get rid of the graduation ceremony, they should be concentrating on two things:

1. Those affected by the mindset (The Kids)
2. Where the mindset comes from (The Home)

Typically, kids who dropout of high school are from lower income families and – as is the common case here in Arizona -- immigrant families. Because money is needed to keep the household going, education isn’t the highest priority. The moment you can start helping or earning, the better. And these are things that are learned early on and everyday in their lives. We are dealing with an environment and behavior that is bigger than a party.

So you can see why I think this bill is a misdirection of effort. If you eliminate the graduation ceremony, you’re only fixing the surface issue. Sure you don’t get the frills and the feeling of “finalization,” but what happens when they go home? Unless the government has a plan to motivate these kids to stay in school while they work or take care of their families – the plan doesn’t succeed.

A better idea would be to raise the age in which children are required to stay at school. Age 16 is the watermark for most states. But we should use the same logic we have for all legal things in our country. People are not considered adults until the age of 18, so why do we let them decide to leave school before that?

However, this is still only half the battle. Unless we can change the mindset at home we’ll still be hitting the same walls. How we fix that problem is the ultimate challenge. How do you undo cultural lines? How do you cause change to lifelong ideas, prejudices, and preconceived notions without making kids choose?