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April 13, 2007
Bow Tie Twenty Seven
“IGNORANCE AS (SAD) IMPETUS”
Oh… Lemme tell ya right from the jump. This is gonna be a hard sell. Let’s make that a VERY HARD SELL. But if the agenda of The Bow Tie were to assume reader agreement, there would be no Bow Tie, mind you. That said, let’s move on. I taped Oprah’s show on Monday, April 16th. I’ve not yet listened to the it so I may be way off base with what is shared here. But I think I picked up the flavor of what her distinguished guests were saying and I sincerely applaud that. All the same, I remain perhaps irretrievably STUCK in the linguistic battle cry about or for Self Determination so widely touted and accepted during the 1960s and early 1970s. Whatever else the term meant or intended, the fact was a seriousness among Black people to define and live what Black people considered to be beneficial for Black people. The conversation (i.e., words and concepts used) and the attendant behavior were circular, i.e., they wrapped around each other seamlessly. No rocket science or mysterious message in that. These two powerful words spelled out a strategy for the evolution of a life (as opposed to or at least distinct from a lifestyle) that was “good” and was free from fear, oppression and misuse…from inside or outside. At the time I thought that was pretty hip. I still think so. Which brings me to a strange and possibly gritty (meaning potentially uncomfortable) “take” on the Imus Issue. To my knowledge, this observation has not been made by anyone else; but if so, that’s fine.
It goes like this: An interesting “dimension” of the Black-White Connection in this country goes well beyond those matters we normally discuss or maybe even avoid discussing. It has a reach that fuses thinking, perceptions, interaction and avoidance in sometimes peculiar (even downright bizarre) ways. Cases in point: The Michael Richards Thang and the (still hot) Don Imus Thang. Even while not forgetting the inherent danger of oversimplifying some of life’s complexities, I say offer this “formula: IGNORANT WHITE BEHAVIOR>>INTELLIGENT BEHAVIOR. The “>>” means “yields, prompts or gives rise to…” Before proceeding, let me say without reservation that this observation is not an underhanded attempt on my part to universally characterize white behavior as ignorant any more than it is my way of “universally” conferring intelligent behavior to Blacks. Not only would that be stupid (or ignorant!), it would likewise be patently untrue. Hoping and trusting I have made that point, I plod along.
That which Michaels said/did was totally unacceptable. We know the story of what happened that night at the Comedy Club; and we know about what an L.A. Times writer labeled the subsequent “apology tour.” What we also know is that his faux pas singularly prompted intelligent conversation and action (i.e., a reexamination of and change in behavior) among many Black people. I’m not through with this but let’s fast forward to Imus. Pretty much the same thing a la Imus at least to the extent that offensive language was used. Drum roll and at least one head roll, i.e., he lost his job—which by the way cannot be equated with Imus becoming unemployed. Anyway, more collective, far-reaching outrage; and more intelligent Black Behavior. So…I perhaps naively ask, “Whusup with that?” Seriously. How does it happen that it is only when insult is leveled from “without” that the action from within becomes so determined, so intense, so impassioned, so immediate, so focused? One would think there is or was an symbiotic linguistic underpinning! Lions and tigers and insults…oh my! What we have is a litany of explanations, excuses and apologies. Yet before (White) Richards and (White) Imus did their deeds, we heard nothing like the orchestrations of the good reverends on the same level or of the same magnitude as we now witness. Why? Because we have been conditioned or better yet, programmed to storm the Bastille of Unacceptability (only) when it is inter-racial…”inter” here meaning between. The intra (internal or inside) protestations go without serious consideration. There is no across-the-board behavior change over what is “joked about.” That’s real, that’s sad. That’s past and present history.
A fair question might be, “Is this a good thing or a bad thing?” Even though I posed the question, I am the first to say it is the wrong question. We start with the harsh reality that people insult/offend people all too often, accidentally or with malice aforethought. Stuff happens all the time. Stuff will always happen all the time. The challenge for all of us is not to look for the day when there is no more stuff (of the earthly kind anyway) but to take responsibility for self-inflicted wounds (putting us back in tune with the civilizing aspects of self determination) and put the lid on ignorant proclamations from whatever source which are guaranteed to cause hurt or harm. So, perhaps the best formula for this recent spate of inter-action is one that puts both Black folks and White folks on notice to…chill. We are constantly being reminded that the globe is warming. Chilled human behavior might prove to be an effective palliative.
~
“SATCHMO, WHY I HARDLY KNEW YOU”
Brother Ray will readily recall the youthful joke that went something like this: “I don’t like ____ (I can’t recall the name) cereal because my brother likes it and I don’t like my brother!” Of course, that had nothin’ to do with Ray and me! All the same, we said it and laughed at it without fully understanding what that indirect slam was all about. It hardly mattered. In this many years later instance, I’m shifting the context a bit to say this: “I don’t like Louis Armstrong because my father didn’t like Louis Armstrong; and I loved my father!” There, now you have the long and short of the explanation…not really. What you do have, however, is an earlier Bow Tie in which I wrote about the pride which characterized Chico. He was never “preachy” about issues having to do with race; but it was always clear that being a Black man meant something to him…at as well as below or beyond his dark-skinned surface. In this connection, he had real distain for Black men whose “antics” he found distasteful. His label for these characters was a far cry from the label so freely bandied about these days. But he was not at all reluctant to show his distinct dissatisfaction. For Chico, Louis Armstrong did entirely too much “skinnin’ and grinnin’.” And catching Chico’s drift early on, I became more attuned to Armstrong’s sight than I was to his sound. The same holds fast even to this day; and I am the first to admit the unfairness of it all. I am more than casually aware of the many jazz musicians who, in telling of their own growth and development freely and even joyfully acknowledge their debt to Armstrong. It is not an overstatement, in fact, to say that his impact is legendary. So be it. When I visualize him, I see a “Hello Dolly” character with a white hankie and shiny white teeth. A legendary clown!
Ken Burns’ extensive albeit uneven jazz history project makes a big splash over Louis Armstrong’s role in the history of jazz in and beyond this country. And it would not be fitting to discount that role. At the same time, the distance I put between myself has less to do with his musical talent or innate ability than his persona. Even in the jazz workshops I have done at Antioch, I readily admit my bias. So, students came to understand that they would have to check out other sources to gain an appreciation for the man. In one workshop an avid and outspoken student gave high praise to Armstrong. And, quite frankly, I was glad he spoke up with so much information, so much passion because I knew the students were not going to gain that valuable insight from me!
Quite often I have inwardly played around with the differences between the fool and the clown. There are times when I am not sure that there is a difference or that it matters that much. For my own purposes, I complicate the otherwise trivial matter and consider the wider picture, the context in which the fool/clown does his or her thing. Sadly, I have yet to find it within me to place Louis Armstrong in a context that allows me to take Chico out of the picture and simply enjoy the music. That’s my problem, not his. Drum roll and curtain down.
~
“FREEDOM TO CHOOSE, FREEDOM TO LOSE”
Treks to two commercial enterprises, hardware stores and book stores, are frustrating experiences for me. I am faced with a mountain of very difficult choices. Too many. As a child, I would go into Sosensky’s Hardware Store on Dixwell Avenue in New Haven and imagine myself buying all the tools I could carry, then taking them home and building or fixing something, anything. Even without the envied skills of a carpenter, somehow the very possession of hammers and screwdrivers, saws and pliers would magically confer upon me the skills to be some kind of craftsman. That never happened. As a substitute, I used Chico’s tools. That was fun. I broke or lost Chico’s tools. The consequence wasn’t fun.
The bookstores I now frequent are more of a challenge because I can purchase what I see and want. If I don’t have the cash, my substitute means of exchange are a checkbook or credit card. So, all that holds me back these days is some semblance of real world sanity that whispers to me, “Hey, dude, you already own that book!” Or, more fitting, “Hey, dude, if you spent 20 hours a day, every day for the rest of you life, you still couldn’t finish reading what you now have in the Elbow Room. But man (and presumably woman) does not live by logic or sensibility or whispering voices alone. So, I am less inclined to close the gap between the oh so attractively arranged bookshelf and I trembling hand. At the very least, I pick up the book quite innocently with nothing more in mind that to do a quick scan. That usually works; but not always.
Tied to this public bad habit is a terribly convenient private one which allows, no make that entices me to jump to Amazon.com and do the dirty deed that way. On those (more infrequent than before) occasions, when I do Amazon surfing, the plot of choice-making and its accompanying anxiety are even greater. On screen, I am made aware of not only the specific book I am looking for but a very wide variety of other books on the same subject or one closely allied. Then there is the benefit not offered by places like Borders and Barnes and Noble. On line I can get a new book, one in almost new, one that’s like new, virtually new or in just plain used condition. The more battered and worn, the lower the cost. That might seem like an easy choice to make but I do remember having purchased a bottom of the used list book and, when it arrived, found just about every line…underlined. Ya make ya choices, ya pay the price.
But the book adventure is always an exciting and eye-opening journey with or without making a purchase. It’s amazing how much literature is out there to explore in depth or simply by checking out the appealing cover. Which brings me to an almost-overlooked weakness. I just love attractive covers be they hand drawn or done with computer graphics or (a real winner for me) consisting of a dynamite photograph. Sheer visual pleasure. The trap, of course, can easily be to find beauty on the outside and real crap within…just like people. I just gotta get back to this whole book thing in the future. In the meantime, I’ll continue to work on my hardware store softness which, I must say, is decidedly easier to “handle.” The reasons: I am less emboldened to any form of physical building and fixing than before. I have more than enough tools and they aren’t as pretty as they used to be. They haven’t really changed over the years, but I have. After all, something’s gotta give. #
Posted by mbowen at 06:30 AM | Comments (0)
Bow Tie Twenty Five
The Bow Tie #25 April 13th 2007
“DON, WHY WE HARDLY KNEW YOU”
Just when I thought it was “safe to re-direct my Bow Tie efforts, something seemingly just up and happened. It’s like one can never safely let down one’s relaxation guard…try as one might. Enter idiot of this past week, Don Imus. Before coming at this latest radiophonic shock jock’s pronouncement, I humbly query, From whom or whence did Imus first hear reference to Black women as “hos”? Was it from some right wing think tank? A subterranean cadre of urban Klansmen? Some hotbed or cold bed [whatever that is] of racially/genderly [whatever that is] insensitive robots? Or, did Imus just happen upon a rapper either live or on a disk casually flinging about that and other insults…with upbeat, top-of-the-charts, bling-generating impunity? Of course, even after we answer that to some degree of satisfaction, there is a lingering problem.
Thinking back, I am reminded of a pattern of old, which means growing up in New Haven. When a child unwittingly and/or innocently uttered a “bad word”, well before any punitive action was taken, the flabbergasted mom or pop would demand, “Where did you hear that?” And it was a reasonable question simply because in his or her heart of hearts, that same parent knew (without fear of contradiction) that the offending child certainly “Didn’t ‘get’ it from me.” And then…came the “whuppin.’” The latter was both a harsh response to the child’s “dirty mouth” as well as assurance that the infraction would not reoccur…most certainly in the presence of the parent(s). So, although the child’s honest explanation cleared the air of origin or source, it did not buy impunity.
So, Imus may well have gotten his bad news oratory from some weakened mentality Black source – as sad and inexcusable a reality though that be – repeating the offense only demonstrates his poor choice of verbal role models.
Because I am putting this together after his firing, my earlier thought that he should be suspended and subsequently restored is somewhat moot. All the same, I want to share my “logic” if such a word can be folded into this latest example of cultural and media mania. As for a suspension itself, 2 weeks (especially 2 weeks with pay) would have been less than a wrist slap. Two check-less months would have been more fitting. But then the question might be, why let him come back? I felt that he should return because if nothing else, he would serve as a continuing reminder of a chastened ass bucket. It’s like he can’t twist in the wind if he isn’t left hanging in the figurative wind.
My non-shock jock/talk show, rambling mouths radio-listening self suggests that Imus will be infinitely more selective in whatever future lies ahead of him. His presumed Teflon self has been unveiled or publicly stripped. He is either a deeply changed person or at least different one. Saying this does not excuse his asininity, but merely looks at it from another perspective. On the other hand, if Imus were to clean up his act, he would no longer have the same appeal; and this would translate into a dwindling listener base, a reexamination of his commercial value to sponsors and he would again be radio history. This, interestingly, is exactly what has happened. Imus will now take a soul-searching respite (ha!) and wait for another outlet to come his way. He may take the Howard “Nasty Man” Stern route and find an electronic home in the world of satellite radio. As for an audience? Blood diamonds and animal fur will find always find willing consumers as will meth labs and shock radio.
I am less certain that any discussion of hard/gangsta rappers should be folded into this one except if we were to continue an exploration of the MRS (Michael Richards Syndrome). Richards did in fact prompt some conversation about the unacceptability of the you know what word. And I still very much appreciate the renunciation of his own usage by shock comedian Paul Mooney…even though some hustling so-called educated Black authors and mouths persist in defending the offense. As a more than laughable parallel, no less a “spooksperson” than Snoop Doggy Dogg [the name itself should warn us beforehand] has declared that there is a difference between college-enrolled, future-oriented Back women and those money-seeking, hands in some dude’s pocket “hos” in the ‘hood! Now how’s that for making a sophisticated cultural/racial distinction?
The beauty of it all is that intelligence, insight is as universal as indifference and invective. Men and women are as infinitely alike as can be imagined. The parallels are so groovy as to be almost scary. As I have said repeatedly to students, human beings are the same. Human beings are different. There are times when the difference makes a difference. There are times when it both doesn’t and shouldn’t. for our recent examples, Snoop and Don are strange brothers. The same can be said for Richards and Mooney. How the rest of the chapter plays out and the words that are used to tell the story is up to the rest of us.
To be sure, knowing when to speak up is foundational(?) to the human experience. So too, is knowing when to shut up!
Posted by mbowen at 06:26 AM | Comments (0)
April 03, 2007
Speedo
WARNING: I AIN'T HAPPY (a esta momento)
the above title comes from a song of yesteryear...more familiar to the real family senior citizens (ray and kit) than to ME! on the serious side, i cite it because just over the weekend, i sketched out a part of the next bow tie which (in continued seriousness) is a retraction of my earlier putdown of jesse jackson as irrelevant. and i did that solely based on jesse's endorsement of obama. and the attachment to this memo notwithstanding, i maintain my "reversed/reconsidered" position of the good reverend. but i didn't even get a chance to finish and send it to you when, whamo, the speed with which "negroes" operate beat me to the written word punch. so, low and behold, here comes earl the mammy mouth.
i don't recall being this pissed since the michael richard madness. it may sound like a stretch to you but i am honestly convinced that "negro" is a not very funny pathology. rather it's a very real thriving and unstudied DISEASE. and i don't suggest this simply as a putdown of people with whom i am in disagreement. (i am sure some folks draw all manner of unflattering conclusions about me.)
backing up a bit: my last county job was working in DAPO, the drug and alcohol program office. as you may recall, my job was to find housing for recovering women who had children. and you may also remember me saying that it was the most challenging (make that impossible!!) job i ever held. to begin with, women (by just being women) have a hard time in this american life; women who raise children alone have a harder time; recovering women are viewed as dregs or "fallen" or "sinful" or whatever; and recovering women who have the nerve (the AUDACITY!) to have children.......well, you get my point. that gig was a real education for me. at the time i also learned about the whole world of recovery. the 12 steps of AA was the mantra of the most of the sober living facilities i visited. in that connection i heard the part about admitting that one was subject to a force over which one had no control (drugs and booze!!) and about seekiing the help of a higher power...etc.
well, believe me, "negro" is a socially and historically-induced "force," and the victims (just like the victims of alcoholism) can't do anything about it because -- as is so true of folks with other diseases - they won't/don't admit that they have it in the first place!! i realize that in most instances, it seems like an innocent -- as in "no big deal" -- simple, surface disagreement or even upbeat argument. disagreements and arguments are not allien to humankind. but when the shit of the human mind reeks, there is a huge problem if one acts as though the aroma is blase.
when i see my buddy, harold hambrick , and ask how's he's doing -- since we don't hook up as often as before -- he says, "it's on automatic" which i eventually came to understand he meant "i'm doing as well as i was when we last saw each other". well, i think negro disease puts certain folks into a mindset that has an automatic response even before a question is posed. and that (sad and sick) response is a put down of that which has value, merit, integrity, benefit BECAUSE the "messenger" or the "bringer" has a black face. so we get stuff like....is he/she black enough? does he/she have sufficient length, breadth, depth? will white, asian, mexican people feel o.k.? does she/he have sufficient experience? education? "who be he mama? who wuz she daddy?" i am becoming increasingly convinced that the ONLY one who can EVER meet the grade for a negro is...you got it: ANOTHER AIR-HEADED negro.
finally, negros are loose-lipped (as in undisciplined, as opposed to "chopper size") terrorosts. they are dutifully, trustworthy weapons of mutual, mammy-made destruction........yet with as much right to live as any and everyone esle. THEY JUST NEED TO SHUT THE HELL UP.........at least until after the election.
peace and lotta love,
me...
and yes, i do indeed feel better.
Posted by mbowen at 06:28 AM | Comments (0)