Room service is one of the world's greatest inspirations

Room service is one of the world’s greatest inspirations. Nine truer words have never been spoken.

Go with me:

• I roll over in bed
• I stretch my arm into the darkness of the shade drawn room
• I clumsily pick up the telephone receiver
• I fumble to find and press the "0" button
• I hear a friendly voice on the other end say, "Good morning Ms. Mouton (though usually horribly mispronounced), how may I assist this morning?"
• I don't bother to correct the person, and say (after clearing my throat), "Good morning, small coffee, two eggs scrambled well w/ cheddar cheese, crispy bacon, white toast and a fruit cup."*
• And some of the nicest words in the English language come next, "Certainly Ms. Mouton (still mispronounced), it will be 30 minutes or less. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
• "No thank you, goodbye." And I clumsily put the receiver back in place.

This is one of the best exchanges two human beings can have and I cherish each of them. It's not that hotel food is particularly great; it is the idea of having someone cook and deliver my food that makes me smile.

*Some times I order eggs benedict, change bacon to ham or just get a fruit plate...it depends on the previous night's adventure.

Invictus for the rest of us

These are some of the greatest sport's films to come out of Hollywood in the last 20 years:
Hoosiers
A League of Their Own
Bull Durham
The Replacements

They are great because they make the sport and the athletes accessible to moviegoers. Whether we play basketball, baseball or football, we can appreciate the fundamentals of sports--teamwork, hard work, leadership, fair play...the fundamentals of life. And at the same time, we can relate to the characters--their idiosyncrasies, triumphs, flaws...their humanity.

Even if the team loses, as it does in A League of Their Own, or the players don't get the glory, as is the story of The Replacements, we leave those movies feeling good because we understand that sometimes in life, no matter how hard you work, how many dues you pay or how much you deserve the reward, sometimes, we may not get the brass ring. We leave those movies feeling good because we empathize with characters, their athleticism, their passion, and their struggle to be as good at home as they are on the field and their realization that there is life beyond the field/court probably never be as good as when they're playing.

This is one of the areas where Invictus falls short. Though we (Americans) may not understand rugby, we can understand the fundamentals of sports. Mr. Eastwood does share some of this with us. What we miss is the player's humanity; we don't know what makes them tick. Francois Pienaar, Matt Damon's character, grew up in apartheid South Africa, why is he portrayed as an enlightened egalitarian? Is that realistic, especially considering that his father and teammates were played as pro-apartheid? How does the lone Black player feel about what is going on and how do his teammates feel about him?

This is the part of the post where I acknowledge Invictus is more than just a sports movie. It is supposed to be a movie about the beginning of Mandela's presidency, a nation's reconciliation and how love of country triumphed over all. This premise doesn't work for me. It is going to take a lot more than winning a rugby tournament to heal the deep-seeded, inbred wounds and scars of apartheid. As a Black woman born seven months after Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated, I know all to well that it takes decades, even generations to move past systemic segregation.

The movie could have been much richer, digging into the life of a man recently released from prison, thrust into the world spotlight and elected to lead a nation on the verge of imploding. Mr. Eastwood even hinted at some of these themes and left us wanting more about Mandela's family, his leadership style and his relationships with those closest to him. I wanted to more about Pienaar's life too. Regretfully, none of these themes were explored.

In the end, I enjoyed the movie, but I wanted to love the movie. I wanted it to be in my Top Ten.

I'm a blogger who writes

Last week, @Modite posted, Bloggers Are Not Writers. I had an instant response to the title and the premise. She begins by asserting, "Bloggers pander to a crowd trying to satisfy the hive mind. Blogging is entertainment."

This was my response:

I could not disagree more.

There are many of us who write for the crowd and to entertain; however, I would dare say, the vast of majority of us, with our modest readerships, write for the pleasure of it. We have a point of view to express, and an audience who is willing to read it.

The rationale you presented would lead us to believe graffiti isn’t art, rap isn’t music and lockin’ isn’t dancing; thirty years ago, they weren’t considered forms of art or of having any artistic value. The standards, expectations and training for these genres is far different from their classical counterparts.

The fact that I’m an amateur, being neither published nor paid, doesn’t make me any less of a writer than someone who is. I write in a different genre. I am not a journalist, novelist, play write, poet or essayist. What makes the aforementioned anymore a “writer” than myself?

I am a writer. I hope my readers are informed, inspired and even entertained because that will keep them coming back. If that isn't the purpose of writing, then what is?

I'm deep...and I don't wanna be

I've got height.

At 5'7" I'm not considered tall by American standards. I have long legs, good posture (when I feel like it) and I wear stilettos, so people tend to perceive me as taller than I am. Height, is a good thing.

I've got width.

With an hourglass shape, I'm what the brothas call phat. I have T&A, hips, long hair and I wear clothes that accentuate my positives and detract from my not-so-positives (I don't have negatives). Width, is a good thing.

And I've got depth.

I recently caught a glimpse of my profile in a 3-way mirror* and I noticed that I have acquired some depth. Oh hell no, I'm not supposed to have depth, at least not this much. Height and width are sought after by women and desired by men. On the other hand, depth is detested by women and avoided by men (though I'm still bookin', but that's another post).

Good grief, I now have yet another thing on my plate --> becoming shallow...in the good way.

Ahhh, tomorrow

Tomorrow, what a wonderful word.

Little Orphan Annie sang, albeit to our great annoyance, about the virtues of tomorrow. Its promise of another sunrise in the midst of a gloom condition. Tomorrow is the great unknown. We don't know what will happen. Who will we meet or run into? What adventure awaits me when I leave my home? Tomorrow provides us hope, yet another chance and do-overs, and it gives us opportunities to correct mistakes, make amends and get it right. It is tomorrow which makes yesterday a memory and today tolerable.


Tomorrow, what a horrible word.

Thomas Jefferson once said, "Never put off till tomorrow what you can do today." It allows us to procrastinate. It is our greatest excuse for not doing, being and accomplishing. We assume tomorrow will be there for us to do what we're not doing today. Our unfulfilled today morphs into a tomorrow filled with today's leftovers, as well as work of its own. Tomorrow robs us of the today that is to come.

What do your tomorrows look like?

January 8-14 is Universal Letter Writing Week

[Shannon, sitting in office with laptop in front of her]

Hmm, writing a letter...putting an actual pen to real paper so as to express thoughts to another individual via written communication...what a novel concept in 2010. I write all the time, blog posts, tweets, emails, status updates, text messages and so on...umm...yeah...but when was the last time I wrote a handwritten letter to someone?

[fade to memory sequence]

As a child, I loved, loved, loved getting mail; the notion that someone would bring something to me simply because it had my name on it was amazing. It seemed like such a grown up thing. My parents always got mail, little did I realize the majority of it was bills and junk. Every so often my parents would receive a letter from a distant relative, Aunt Pauline in Denver, Uncle Clarence in Atlanta or Cousin Dot in Reading (Pa.). Those were the best.

I can see it plain as day:

Daddy used the curved engraved brass letter opener; I wasn't allowed to touch it. He carefully slit the envelope open on one end and blew into it. The envelope expanded as if it had been told to do so. He held it in one hand and slid the contents into his other hand. A handwritten letter, a picture or two and maybe a bookmark or newspaper article would land in his hand. Sometimes they would have all of our names on the front or say "family," and Daddy let me open those. I loved opening the mail, it always had a surprise inside.

[cut back to Shannon at her laptop]

And even though my mail is the typical stuff, bills, fundraising appeals, ValuPaks and some magazines (yes, I still have a couple of subscriptions), I enjoy receiving it as much as I did 30+ years ago.

[Shannon pushes her laptop to the side, pulls out a piece
of stationery, takes a pen and begins to write]

Happy Monday

As I posted this morning, "Happy, happy Monday...just think, it could've gone another way this weekend, last night or this AM and you wouldn't be reading this message."

Last Thursday a co-worker remarked, "it's almost the weekend," sharing his enthusiasm for the upcoming weekend, while simultaneously implying his aversion to weekdays. A lot of us have similar mindsets (including yours truly) of living for the weekends. Wednesday is "humpday," Thursday is the day before and Friday at 5pm is the official beginning of the weekend. You can sense a change in the atmosphere at work and at home as adults and children become almost giddy with anticipation. This attitude then relegates Monday to the end of the weekend (good times had by all) and the beginning of another work week (less than good times had by any).

Leading me to this question: What happens Monday - Friday that is so unpleasant?

• we cook and eat
• we sleep and awaken
  
• we go to the gym
• we work
  
• we watch tv (entertain ourselves)
  
• we take care of our families
• we clean our homes
  
• we go out with friends
• we participate in hobbies
• we blog, tweet, friend, connect, etc.
• we bathe ourselves
• all-in-all, we live our lives
  

What is so bad about any of it? So why do we dread Mondays and weekdays and look forward to the weekends? These are the general activities of billions of people around the world. None of this is dreadful (except the gym thing, y'all pray for me).

The glaringly obvious answer is weekdays typically represent the work week. Which begs the question, what is so bad with working? Everyone works, from richest to poorest, smartest to dumbest, urbanite to farmer, royalty to peasant...in every corner of the globe. This then led me to another question: Do we dread Mondays because we have to work, the work do, where we work, when we work, etc.?

We shouldn't take our frustration and angst out on poor ole Monday and the other weekdays. If we are unfulfilled, unhappy or uninspired by our work, then we should get another job.

• Everyday is a gift, as we aren't promised any of them.
  
• Everyday is an opportunity to love, help, teach, encourage, inspire and forgive.
  
• Everyday is an another chance to get this thing called life right.

So, Happy Monday, it's just another day, no better or worse than any of the other six.

Shannon's Dating Rules (Pt. 1)

These are the Top 10 Rules* (guidelines, principles, practices, etc.) for dating (i.e., being in a relationship with) yours truly.

1. Let your yea be your yea and your nay be your nay --> say what you mean and mean what you say; keep your word; don't make promises you can't keep and don't come up with excuses. [Being unreliable, undependable and irresponsible is the quickest and surest way to not need these rules.]
   


2. Relationships take time and attention in order to grow --> we see each other at least once a week and we don't go more than 36 hrs without your initiating communication [I've got to be one of the most accessible people on the planet: 6 email addresses, 4 phone numbers, 2 fax numbers, 2 IM accounts, Twitter, Facebook, Plurk, LinkedIn, and so on, so there is NO excuse for not reaching me any time of the day or night.]
   


3. Communication is key --> use your words because I mos' definitely will use mine [Speak!]


4. Employ the Boy Scouts motto --> be prepared; friends will tell you, it is ALWAYS an adventure with me [Hold on for the ride, we may start out for the dinner and end up at an opera or museum or friend's house playing cards.]


5. Neither of us are mind readers --> when you assume, you make an "ass" outta "u" and "me" [If you don't think for me, then I won't think for you.]
   


6. Ask me no questions and I'll tell you know lies --> are you sure you really wanna know the answer to that question? [I'm a grown woman and live a grown woman's life.]
   


7. Think before you speak --> do not pee on my head and tell me it's raining; been there, done that and have a tee-shirt collection [I've been out here a long time, and baby, there ain't nothing new under the sun.]
   


8. I am NOT a morning person --> this is not the time to use your words, at least til I've showered or had coffee [Seriously, don't try me.]
   


9. Stupidity will not be tolerated --> don't be a dumba$$ [no explanation needed]
   


10. Your the MAN --> man up or I'll be the alpha dog...Beotch [no explanation needed]

Rules 11-20 will be next week.

*There are exceptions to every rule, and can be discussed on a case-by-case basis.

Happy Birthday Elvis!

Yes, I'm a staunch Elvis fan (don't judge me). I believe he's still alive, living in a quaint seaside villa in some South American country...hmmmmmm

I digress, today we recognize the 75th birthday of Elvis Aaron Presley, the undisputed King of Rock & Roll.

• he was born down yonder in Tupelo, MS in 1935 --> Elvis was born a cracker and came to recognize Black folks as people later in life

• he was married to and divorced from Priscilla Presley (10 yrs his junior) --> Elvis was a playa, his affairs with Hollywood starlets are better known than their movies

• he died of a heart attack --> Elvis was a pill-popping drug addict that abused his body with drugs and alcohol

In honor of Elvis, here is one of my personal favorites, sung by its original artist Big Mama Thornton and the Elvis version. Big Mama recorded "Hound Dog" in 1952 and Elvis rerecorded it in 1956.





Which version do y'all prefer?

The Secret to Life

Shazzam!
By Jove, I think I've got it!
This is hotter than a summer afternoon in the bayou!

I've learned the secret to life: Relationships. Authentic, true, honest, real, deep, stimulating, thought provoking relationships are the answer.

It doesn't matter how much money you have, what kind of car you drive or the number of bedrooms in your home. And you know how I know that not one iota of this materialistic bullsh*t matters...cuz ain't none of it eva mentioned in anyone's obituary. What is mentioned are the relationships folks had, with their Creator, spouses, children, friends, animals, organizations, and even the world.

How is your obit reading so far?