Wednesday, June 28, 2006

Star Jones impact on the Global Economy and Fanny Packs

THREE BLOGS FOR THE PRICE OF ONE.

"THE EYE OF THE TIGER IS BACK"

THERE IS SO MUCH GOING ON TODAY. IN ADDITION TO THE NORMAL SITCOM THAT IS MY LIFE, I HAVE TO SHARE WITH YOU MY COMMENTERRY ON MRS. JONES REYNOLDS VS. BARBARA WALTERS AND THE BET AWARDS.

SIDEBAR: (AND THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT) I ALWAYS LIKE TO LET YOU KNOW WHAT I AM WEARING SO YOU CAN BE A PART OF THE EXPERIENCE. PLEASE UNDERSTAND THAT ALL THREE BLOGS WERE WRITTEN IN ONE SITTING. I “DID NOT” REPEAT THIS OUTFIT. THOUGH I DO LOOK SO STUNNING THAT IT COULD BE WORN 3X.

FIRST MOMENT

Mood: Feeling Pretty. Tasty. And Tempting.

Mode: I am wearing some crispy blue jeans and some squared-toed loafers. You know I adore loafers and jeans. They are the perfect combination for me since I do not own a pair of sneakers. I bowed out of the sneaker game shortly after my first pair of Air Jordan’s in in 4th grade. Yea I had the Elysees, the British Knights and a few pair of Jordans but as soon as I got the Texas Tiger steelo down pact, I knew that I was not about the sneaker game. I am not paying $200 for a pair of shoes that will be outdated in three months. That $200 is a nice pair of Ferragamo boots on sale. You can’t design you life around trends. You design you life around style. How many people can pull out some Jordans from two years ago and rock them with their head held high? Meanwhile, my Gucci wingtips, circa 2003, are still fierce.

Oh, I just love wearing bright colors in the summertime. Moving up further on the body, I am wearing a new Ralph Lauren shirt. It’s pink and green. I did not plan this but last night I spent the evening with my good friend LeShawnda (a member of Alpha Kappa Alpha) and most of today’s blog will be about Star Jones (an AKA).

SPECIAL SIDEBAR: My shirt was a birthday present. Thank you. I so wish you could see me now and share in this moment.

Melody: Faith Evans “Burning Up.” I am on fire this morning. I feel like Lil Wayne after a night out with Trina. Can’t stop the burn.

For some reason I could not sleep this AM. I got up and cleaned my bathroom. Then I organized my closet. Then I went in the bathroom and said “Who is that man in the mirror?” Why is the Texas Tiger up at 7am on my day off? But I could not rest. There is too much on my mind this morning. A lot has been on my soul. You know, after much prayer and counsel, I have decide that I am going to update my blog. You people have given me some of the best months of my life and oh….wait. That not me, that’s Star Jones talking…more on that fiasco later (push the button….like Sug Avery in The Color Purple Musical).

Moment for Thought: What’s in your fanny pack? And this is directed at every man in America over the age of 40 who is currently walking down the streets of Anytown, America. When I see a man (usually a tourist) walking through Times Square with his wife and 2.5 blond-haired blue-eyed children, I totally understand the need for a fanny pack. You have to hold your camcorder, digital camera, hotel keys and various asthma pumps and diabetes medication somewhere. And when I see two burly muscular men holding hands in Chelsea walking down the street, I totally get their need for a fanny pack. You can’t expect them to walk down the street with their handcuffs, leather wrist bands and crystal meth pipes out in the open can you? But what I do have a problem getting my mind wrapped around is why a single man (e.g. walking down the street minus the wife, kids and muscular lover) would be walking down the street wearing a fanny pack. I want to walk up to them and ask, “What’s in your fanny pack?”

There is absolutely no reason any man should be walking down the street wearing a fanny pack. What at THAT particular moment would require you to add a tawdry pleather pouch to your oversized waist and overflowing belly? There are certain body parts one need not acknowledge. I am so tired of The View and Good Morning America doing segments on what jeans women should buy to make their butts look smaller and their waists thinner. How about a segment for middle-aged men that will give the following tidbits: 1) How to fit all your essentials in ONE wallet in your back pocket 2) How to hide your beer belly 3) How to make your 44” waist look like a 37” 4) How to find an appropriate man bag that doesn’t make you look queer or like you shop at K-Mart for your outerwear.

Everything a man could possibly need from a digital camera, to an Ipod or a comb should fit in the appreciate pockets in a nice pair of jeans, sport coat or well-appointed man bag.
EMBRACE the man bag. Now I don’t mean get crazy and go get a Louis Vuitton man bag. Because let’s face it, it takes a certain kind of man to pull off that accessory without looking like he drops the soap at Bally’s on purpose. So unless you are George Clooney or Vince Vaughn, I’d pick a nice Ferragamo bowling bag and call it a day.

I am also tired of men in T-shirts. I read somewhere that the T-shirt is a classic part of American attire. Yea, when you have pecs like Barry Bonds c/o BALCO. When you have a body like Drew Carrey or no-body at all like Clay Aiken, the t-shirt tends to fit the body like a well-worn bed sheet. Not very classic. If you can’t make your pec muscles bounce to the beat of Young Leek’s “Jiggle It,” you should note to yourself that your t-shirts are for INNER wear only.

That’s my men’s fashion beat for today.

THE UNDERGROUND RELEASE


A good chum from Chicago was in town this week. I enjoy those moments when people from your past infiltrate your present. it’s a merger of two worlds. One from where you’ve escaped and one that you’ve created.

I got a chance to show Don my New York. Where I like to eat and shop and drink and be seen.
We did the tourist spots, we did the trendy spots, we did the local spots and we did the underground spots that you have to be really trendy to even know exist.

I started off the week with a little vintage shopping in Brooklyn. Williamsburg is quietly becoming one of the hottest neighborhoods in New York City with an eclectic mix of everyone from bankers and consultants to gays and trannies. And wherever you have a merger of so many cultures and subcultures it usually produces high-end real estate and fabulous vintage shopping. Where else could you buy a two-bedroom co-op for under a million dollars and find a pair of pleated bell-bottoms jeans on the same block?

I picked up a new suede man bag (old men with fanny packs - PAY ATTENTION) and a few vintage t-shirts. For me, the summer is all about wearing t-shirts that are a little bit too tight and definitely too small. What’s the point in having a flat tummy if no one can see you and hate you for it?

SIDEBAR: I went out last week to a club that had a dance floor on the second level. I was wearing a shirt that was too tight and too short (why not?) and some jeans that were too low (just because). And I discovered something I want to share with you. I asked myself, how do you ascend a staircase without showing your goodies to the world (cause you know you have to buy me at least two drinks for that)?

Here’s what you do. Tuck and Pull. Tuck your tummy in (don’t suck it in) and this will expand your pec muscles thus giving the shirt much needed length while pushing the buttocks in an upward motion and preventing the top of your low rise jeans for falling to a dangerously level that may reveal if you are wearing a thong or not. Cause that will cost you two shots of Patron.

A SIDEBAR ABOUT LITTLE GHETTO CHILDREN

I am sitting in my new office for today, The Harlem Team Room, a cute spot that serves high-tea and minor attitude in Harlem. While I’m sitting here talking and typing to you (because I adore you so much) these five African-American children walk in with little scraps of paper and start going from table to table. I immediately pull out my cell phone and make a call because the only children I like all have my last name or at least my blood line. And since my sister would never allow my niece to be seen in public with a nappy pig tail I immediately knew this was not Texas Tiger blood line. And I did not need a cotton swab of the inner cheek to tell me other wise.

So the children had an equally tacky adult with them. She also was sporting the nappy pony tail caked down with gel and a tacky t-shirt. I swear, I am going to Target and I am going to put up a sign in front of all the cotton t-shirts.

So one of the little girls gives me a sheet of papers that says “Lady Jay’s Kids Forth of July Talent Show.” Now as much as I enjoy seeing poorly dressed children dancing suggestively to the new T.I, I have some concerns and that I am sure B. Smith would cosign on.

ITS ALL ABOUT PRESENTATION.

I am going to tell you a story that will touch your soul no matter where you are. Cause you all know these little boys. They range in ages from 6-15. They have cornrows (that need to be re-rowed), low fades (that need to be lowered and faded), braids with new growth, dingy white t-shirts that go below the knee-caps (doubling as skirts), long jeans shorts (reminiscent of the 1980 jams) and the latest tennis shows. And they ask you to support their “basketball team.” Selling M&Ms, Starburst, and other assorted candies taken (or bought) from Costco/Sam’s Warehouse. And their grammar is atrocious.

Now, I appreciate the “Excuse me sir…” but everything else goes downhill. As an elder in the African American community and a proud member of the Talented Tenth (so says W.E.B. DuBois) I told one gentleman this: It’s all about presentation. You scare the white people AND me AND Terrance Howard. We are embarrassed.

Go to Old Navy get some $5 matching basketball jerseys, get a haircut, make a decent sign (and don’t be afraid to use glitter and markers) and stand in one spot allowing the guy with the best command of standard English to serve as a spokesperson (and take the gold grills out). It’s about presentation. If you are going to pretend you and your friends have a b-ball tend so you can earn enough money to buy your dime bags, at least look like a unified team.

PRESENTATION PEOPLE!

I’m Done.

MY SECOND BLOG AND A NEW MOMENT

Mood: I have moved onto a second cup of coffee and opened up iTunes on my computer cause the music here is wearing me out. Can you switch Cds? I mean, really. The same five songs on repeat? Oh…and I still feel pretty.

Mode: Pink, green, and blue. Stunning in the summer.

Melody: “Make it Hot” by Teena Marie from the new album Sapphire. When this song comes on I feel free and flirtatious. I am really amazed at how Teena really speaking the feelings of my soul without ever having met me. Maybe we were soul mates in another life or something. Or at least good friends.

Moment to think and ponder: Why you keep saying no but you in a cold sweat?

The devil is very busy. There is a lot to this story and I am going to give you everything you need to know. I am mixing fact with behind the scenes rumors and gossip. As we do with our everyday lives. Life isn’t fun without a little fiction thrown in. I know I like to pretend I am muscular and tall.

I am sure we have all heard by now that Star Jones Reynolds is leaving The View. I’ll pause for you to collect yourself.

And welcome back.

It’s very true. I am sure we will never know the true story behind her dismissal (until they air the Star Jones Reynolds E! True Hollywood Story or until the People Magazine cover story or her appearance on Larry King Live or whatever other publicity stunt she can milk) but rumor has it that Star’s departure was a prerequisite for Rosie O’Donnell signing on to host the show. How true is this? I really don’t know. I only wish Rosie would have thrown Elizabeth’s name into the hat as well.

Now before I started writing this blog, I said to myself that Star will “clean” this up for us on the air and say she is moving on to other projects because her ego would not allow her to say she was fired. Oh how wrong I was. I am so happy I am not committed to being right. We all need to leave room for growth.

We were all a part of the fantasy wedding so I won’t rehatch that here, but understand that after the wedding a meeting was held with ALL the co-hosts and they were asked to stop “accepting” expensive free gifts. Shortly thereafter, Star taped a segment for the show in Dallas, Texas. She allegedly accepted a pair of diamond-encrusted cowboy boots while there(stunning!). Tisk! Tisk!

Meanwhile, the ABC execs are doing research on the show and its ratings. And surprisingly, research shows that most people hate Star Jones Reynolds (I couldn’t believe that either). Seems the wedding and the dramatic weight lost and probably all those Christian testimonies have not been going over very well with most of middle America.

Let me pause for a second and remind you how we live in a global world and how what happens in Iraq really does affect us here in America. And thank you to Angelina Jolie for taking time out of destroying and rebuilding families to go overseas and touch the children in a special place. But in the global world where A affects B, this whole Star Jones thing can be blamed on President Bush. He created the war and got Star fired. Cause Dan Rather did the story on Bush doing drugs and dodging the draft which lead to fake documents which begat Dan Rather getting fired from CBS which allowed CBS to hired Katie Couric which created a blessing for Meredith Viera cause she got a job at the TODAY Show which in turn led ABC to hire Rosie O’Donnell and put her back on TV as the new face of power lesbians everywhere leading to Star Jones Reynolds getting fired cause the new “out” Rosie does not like closeted gays and could not fathom being at a Christmas party with Al Reynolds. Its just a mess. The devil is so busy.

Last week one of my comedic muses, the great lady Ms. Sandra Bernhard, made a long-awaited appearance on The View. And it was a hot mess. La Bernhard looked stunning in a white pleated skirt and perfectly coordinated top. The skirt was so stunning even Mrs. Jones Reynolds complimented it. Now I don’t know who should take the blame for this fiasco of an interview. Perhaps Sandra wanted to pick a fight. Perhaps the ladies are not “hip” to her brand of sarcasm or maybe Elizabeth was just dazed, confused and to of her league intellectually. But since this last explanation could be used to explain the failure of every interview conducted since her “hire” date, I’d like to explore other options. I hope Barbara Walters will do the same once Hasslebeck’s contract is up.

It all started when Sandra said that Mariah Carey only started accessing her “black” side once her record sales start to slip. Star Jones Reynolds (who we all know is friends with ALL the celebrities) did not like this statement. So they had a minor tiff before Barbara Walter jumped in with her own line of questions about Bernhard’s lesbian lover and 7-year-old daughter. At this point the audience grew quiet and distant. SNAP OUT OF IT. When queen of all the power lesbians joins the show in September you are going to have to suffer through more homo-erotic overtones that an L-Word marathon. Clearly the View’s audience is not ready for September. I can’t wait.

But the strap-on really hit the fan when Bernhard insinuated that Laura Bush was doped up and over medicated. SIDEBAR: Isn’t it the truth? That pasty smile, those unconnected and vague glances into the camera. The stepford wives hairdo. The husband having the interracial affair. I can’t blame her for washing down her “prescribed medications” with a pint of grey goose. Wouldn’t you?

But the Bush criticism since Elizabeth in a tailspin. A real tizzy. As the other resident Christian, (you know her and Star are both missionary Baptists) Hasslebeck had to defend the first lady. How’ll dare this loud-mouth lesbian bad mouth the honorable Laura Bush. After all this woman has down for the poor little black children in DC who can’t read. It’s no wonder they’re all going to hell.

Surprisingly, I think Joy Behar totally understands Sandra and got a kick out of it. Like most prolific artists, either you get it or you don’t. Bernhard is what she is. I attended the opening night of her fascinating one-woman show Everything Bad and Beautiful and I was amazed and inspired. She’s been in the business over 30-years now and she still comes out year after year with fresh material and new insights about pop culture. She could fall back and rest on her laurels like some pathetic entertainers (did you notice that Miss Laura did that SAME material on The Queens of Comedy that she had been doing on The Apollo and Def Comedy Jam like 5 years earlier?) but she keeps it youthful and funky. And I respect that.

Walking to the stage in a fitted gown that must have had all the colors of the rainbow intertwined, she opened the show singing Christina Aguilera’s “Beautiful.” When she looked into the audience and whispered “Don’t Look at Me” while commanding your attention with every fiber of her being, you didn’t know whether you should turn away and follow orders or get ready for a ride on her sarcastic roller-coaster of critiques. And it was the latter. Without missing a beat, she ripped into the Bush twins, Condoleezza Rice, Angelina Jolie/Brad Pitt and Rosie O’Donnell. But the tour de force was the closing of the show with Bernhard vamping it up on stage before taking to the drums and performing Shelia E’s Glamorous Life. She gave of herself till it hurt and I enjoyed every minute of it.

I’m DONE.

Posted by Texas Tiger in NYC :: 1:04 PM :: 0 Comments:

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