The Prodigal Diva Returns Home and Thoughts of Ferguson

Hello my lovelies!

It's been ages since the Cheetah Diva has written a blog post. A lot has happened since the luncheon with my co-workers in June, and besides editing the second book, which was published September 1, 2014, the biggest things that happened to me was my journey to my hometown of St. Louis, Missouri in July. It has been awhile since I've been home for an extended visit, and I was only there for about four days, but they were four of the best days I've had in a really long time. I often brag about the cuisine, the sights, and sounds of my City on the River, and this trip was no exception.

The past health issues, the stress, and the forward push to have a successful writing career all took back seats to my journey, as I did the over 550 mile drive from ATHell to St. Louis. I was initially apprehensive; I'm not sure why that is. No, I know exactly why - I expected drama. I have that kind of family. We argue, fight, barbecue, play spades, and not necessarily in that order. I've gone home a couple of times in the past 13 years, but it's been overnight trips and I didn't get to reconnect with a lot of people. 

It was weird seeing family members that I haven't seen since before 2001 when I left to start my sojourn into the world. Once I got there, I didn't really focus on the time; I was too busy basking in the warm wishes, the love, and support of my insane family. My mom cooked dinner for me a couple of days, being very mindful of my dietary restrictions because of my heart disease. She has this small dog; Idunno what that damn thing was - I don't like noise makers, but it was annoying. Earlier, I met my new sister-in-law, Dee Dee. I honestly expected to not like her, on account that she's a Christian and I'm a card-carrying soldier of the Darkside. No for real; I'm the Devil's Right Arm. It says so on my badge. However, we hit it off right away and she's a Cheetah Diva after my own heart. We have SOOOO much in common! I love her to death and got her back from now on.

My brother's transformation really surprised me. He had two strokes this year, and while he's walking and talking pretty good, he looked so much older than I remember, notwithstanding the fact that he turned 50 this past January. Something he had done a couple of years ago both irritated and infuriated me, so I had it in my mind that I was going to pull him to the side and let him know what I thought about the situation. All of that melted away when we reconnected. We had a great time together; me, him, Dee Dee and my daughter Charlene ran around St. Louis like little demons. I even ran a red light. That was awesome!

The person who surprised me the most was my cousin Juria. Talk about fighting - she and I physically fought like Ali/Frazier. She was about 6 years younger and always wanted to hang out with me, my sister and our friends, the Scotts. However, she was a snitch, and I didn't want her around, so we had a volative relationship that lasted from the time she was about 7 or 8 until we were all grown up with children of our own. Before the trip, the last time I had seen her was in 1998 at my grandmother's home. It would be 16 years before we would meet again. 

With my mother, kid, and Dee Dee, we drove to her house, which was not far from my mother's home, but she wasn't there. Her boyfriend said she had just left to go to the store, so we waited for her. When she finally came back, I braced for it.

Seriously. I expected her to sucker punch me.We really hated each other.

What she actually did surprised me. She hugged me and cried. Hard. 

Needless to say, I was stunned. When I say we went to war, it was so bad, I'm surprised no one called the U.N. for Peacekeepers.  We used fist, feet, slaps, whatever weapon that was handy...

It was a humbling and warm experience. I felt rejuvenated being back home surrounded by people who love me and will do anything for me. The thing is, when you live in your hometown, you get so sick of seeing the same thing over and over again. It's when you go away and come back that you truly appreciate how unique and lovely your home is. I'll try very hard not to be a stranger again. In fact, the plan next year is to stay a week longer and we all get together and have a picnic or something. It'll be fun. I took tons of pictures; the majority of them would have ended up on this blog.

However...

The reason why this blog is so late is that a month after I returned to ATHell, "Ferguson" happened. If you've been under a rock or on a lunar outpost or something through the month of August, an 18-year-old young man named Mike Brown was stopped by the Ferguson Police for, of all things, walking in the middle of the street. Let me say that this wasn't a busy intersection - this was an apartment complex. What happened has been the source of endless debate, but the fact is there was a shooting, and a young man lay dead in the middle of the streets for more than four hours in front of everyone, including his mother and small children. The police didn't even have the courtesy to throw a blanket over him; they just left him there. This fact, coupled with the initial response of the police to show up in riot gear and began arresting people and throwing smoke grenades, set off a horrific chain of events that lasted for more than two weeks. I was so worried because one, my mother lives about a mile away from the melee and two, I lived down the street from that QT that was burned; lived there for six years. I know those people. Many of my friends and some family members were sending out the message that a news blackout was happening. Cell phones were down, landlines were busy and all I knew is I wasn't able to talk to my mother. You have no idea how much I wanted to drive up there. Knowing me, I would have went down to West Florissant and got straight in the middle of it. What would I have done? It's hard to say, but I'd probably be in a jail cell.

It took forever for the police to release the officer's name, which they did and were like, "oh and by the way, here's a video of Big Mike strong robbing a convenience store, but the officer didn't know that, so this has nothing to do with the shooting." 

Yeah...blood in the water. The Okey Doke was alive and well and living in Ferguson, Missouri in 2014. 

Throwing gas grenades at American citizens in this day and age. The Geneva Convention prohibits the use of them and here we are in the middle of the Heartland where gas grenades were thrown and rubber bullets were shot by police jackbooting in riot armor and gear like they were in Afghanistan. What the hell would a small, podunk ass municipality like Ferguson need with shit like that anyway? You can't fix a pothole but you got the latest in Army-grade weaponry? What's wrong with this picture? The craziest thing about the whole thing was the Palestinians in Gaza were tweeting...TWEETING! support to Ferguson and teaching them how to help themselves with using milk instead of water to wash off the grenade attacks.

How shameful we looked to the rest of the world.  The funny thing is the videotape of Mike showed he actually paid for the cigars that the police tried to make people believe he stole. Now you have "citizens" trying to get his juvenile report...as if that would make it okay to shoot that man down like that.

Look, we all have to share this world, whether we like it or not. Racism is a stupid, brain dead concept in that one race holds themselves superior over others and create laws, socioeconomic and educational roadblocks to keep those others from achieving more. Racists always complain about "pull yourselves up by your boot straps, get off welfare, get a job!" Then Barack Obama happened and suddenly the tone changed. What they really mean is, "we didn't mean take THAT house! It's called the White House for a reason!" 

[ sarcasm]...but you know...it's not about race. [ /sarcasm]

They want other races to be inferior to them; it makes them feel better about what they see in the mirror, and I would love to say that when you think of a racist, you think "overalls, cross-burning, inbred, moonshine drinking hicks shouting 'MERICA!" No, today's racist is much smarter than that - they're in the corporate offices, running the businesses, in all segments of society where they can practice their brand of discrimination and exclusion...but they do it with a smile...and business jargon...while they're pushing you back down. The fact that they're trying to keep us from voting speaks volumes about it.

What's really amusing about it is if you dare tell them that being racist is wrong, they then accuse you of being a racist. If I wasn't physically and mentally repulsed by racists, I'd be amused by them. To be wound up so tight by the color of someone's skin to the point where you stew in your own hatred must be exhausting, and I'll admit that watching that one vein on their forehead twitch is YouTube worthy. 

I'm still trying to find this "race card." Is it like a deck of Uno cards? No? Oh well...I'll keep looking.

This may sound weird and okay, kind of crazy, but I'm proud of my fellow St. Louisans. It was horrible and disgusting to watch all of that, but they stood up for themselves. The police (and I have had my own run in with them too after being accused of jaywalking at that fast light at Northwinds Estates Drive) went in with the attitude that they were going to crack some heads and run them off, but my people came out and demonstrated their constitutional rights. See, the Constitution doesn't just apply to one segment of the population - it applies to us all, and you can't claim constitutional rights for yourself and turn around and deny them for others. That's not how it works, and I'm glad that they got out there and fought back.  This is not the '50s. Young people are not marching to "We Shall Overcome." They're marching to "WE SHALL KICK YO ASS!" Oh, fuck yeah...

For the record, Ferguson is not a ghetto. The street where the Ferguson Suppression (that's what I'm calling it) is a street that extends from near downtown St. Louis and continued on for about 40 or so miles through North St. Louis into Jennings, Pine Lawn, Ferguson, Dellwood, and across Highway 270 into Florissant. It's a street zoned for businesses, including restaurants, a laundry mat, beauty supplies, storage, and the like. Near the QT there are two apartment complexes. That I can remember, there are about 5 or 6 complexes throughout Ferguson, but the majority of the municipality is made of up of single family homes; not HUD homes...well, there might be a few - I haven't asked, but there are homes with families; some of which who were gassed in their own yards. 

There are grocery stores, malls, colleges, and other retailers along West Florissant, and believe me - no one was suffering from lack of goods like some people were implying ("look at what they did to their community - what will they do now?") Not starve, jerkahole! They know nothing about Ferguson. Was the rioting and looting right?  Of course not, but I didn't focus on them because the most important thing is a young man is dead and a smear campaign happened, an officer is on paid vacation, and an entire world is left to wonder if the USA can't fix its own problems, how and why the hell are they trying to fix problems in foreign lands?

It's something to think about.

Oh yeah, here's something about the Ferguson Suppression that irritated me. Jesse Jackson showed up and stuck his damn hand out. Not to take up a collection for those in jail for their bail money - for his church. He got his wig snatched and deservedly so. At least Rev. Al showed up, offered support and kept it moving. Alderman Antonio French was a real soldier during the Suppression. He got arrested, but came back and stayed on the ground. I think his presence kept atrocities from happening. He's the one to watch in the future. The New Civil Rights Movement has a leader...look out for him.The outside agitators coming in to create mayhem made things worse. I'm glad the residents tried to put an end to it.

Then Keke Palmer (yeah, that little girl from Akeelah and the Bee) tweeted about "we're all one color" or some ole shit like that without actually knowing or understanding what happened. Black Twitter called her, "naive."  Hell, they could have called her worse. Instead of having a nice, hot burrito filled with cheese, rice, beans and a helping of "shut the fuck up," she decided to become a foot soldier in the war and go to Ferguson. The Twitterverse, Yours Truly included, told her no...stay yo ass at home. Don't. Please. If you've ever read her bio, this is someone who has never had to live in circumstances like this or have had to deal with them. It's not to say that she hasn't experienced racism; we ALL have that one story, but she had no clue as to what was really going on.

So she actually showed up. Wearing a 10-foot mop. In a designer mini-skirt. In stilettos. Doing a Pussycat Doll strut up West Florissant. My jaw dropped; very little shocks me, but I actually did a double take. 

Being 21 doesn't make you grown. It just means you can legally buy a drink.

Definitely NOT Broadway

What I want to know is where was this child's publicist, and why did her mother not say anything? Now, I'm sorry her mother got shot with a rubber bullet, but contrary to popular reports, Keke was not felt up or had her skirt yanked up. If she had, you think that would have blown up by the media? A lot of people were upset that the big celebs weren't saying anything, but this is the perfect reason why they needed to stay their asses where they were. This was not a photo shoot, a publicity stunt, or something to say "so there!" just to prove a moot point. Someone died, people were being assaulted and arrested. Oh, CinderElla, keep yo ass on the other side of the street, Tweet your support and keep it moving. You are failing at both attention whoring and political activism.

Anyhoo, as I log off, it occurred to me to promote the book (I did mention it earlier), but I've decided to leave that for the next blog. Remember, my lovelies, - silence is not always golden. If you see something wrong happen and you don't stand up, that makes you no better. Being a follower just makes you sheep. What will you teach your children; look the other way and hum? This is why the world can't evolve. Reach up and stand up. It doesn't matter for what - stand for something. I would rather be poor with conviction and heart than be a rich coward. All day long.

Ciao!

nnb