Cheris Hodges's Blog, page 39

A tale of two white men. . . DNC 2012

Black folks will Wobble

Are you familiar with the song and dance called the Wobble?





And you know what at a party, the Wobble gets the crowd moving. No matter the party. Take Sunday night's Media Mixer at the Democratic National Convention. The party was hosted by the National Association of Black Journalists and the Charlotte Chapter of the group.

Want to see journalists get busy?



Watch this:










For the record, this chick doesn't wobble, wobble, nor does she shake it, shake it.

Out and proud during the Democratic National Convention

Charlotte's gay and lesbian community is making it's voice heard during this week's Democratic National Convention. And unlike last week's Republican National Convention, the DNC is doing more than just paying lip service to diversity.



North Carolina, despite the passing of Amendment One in May, has a transgendered delegate at the convention.

Any reason to party. . .DNC turns into a reason to club

Sometimes the things people do just makes me scratch my head and frown.



Case in point:





This reminds me of the idiotic promoter in Greensboro who tried to have a party using Trayvon Martin as the reason for it. All I can do is point and judge.



The promoter and I had this exchange in my Facebook inbox:






Leon Djbighause Dent



Thanks for sharing the photo Fam!












3 minutes ago
Cheris Hodges



Are you donating any proceeds from the party to President Obama's campaign?












about a minute ago
Leon Djbighause Dent



Yes, my flyer guy didn't put that on the flyer, we will mention it throughout the night






Cheris Hodges



What percentage goes to the campaign?












5 seconds ago
Leon Djbighause Dent



25%

Cheris Hodges




Will you be registering voters as well?



No response. 

Revelations is almost 10 years old!

June, 2003, I had the pleasure of seeing my first romance novel. I enjoyed writing this book, loved telling Malik's and Shari's story. Here are some of my favorite parts of the book:

First look: Forces of Nature, coming May, 2013

#Forces of Nature excerpt:



Crystal Hughes was mad as hell
and the person behind this madness would feel her wrath, she decided as she
ripped the notice she’d received in the mail to shreds. “Welco!” she muttered.
Crossing the vast living room, Crystal grabbed her purse and keys from the
coffee table. Dashing out of her plantation styled house, Crystal nearly bowled
over two teenagers planting rose bushes near her steps.

            “Miss
Crystal is everything OK?” asked Renda Johnson as Crystal placed her hands on
her shoulder.

            “Yes,
I’m just in a hurry. What are you and MJ doing?” Crystal smiled at Monique and
Renda, two sisters who lived in the Starlight Group Home that sat less than two
miles from Crystal’s house. No one else in Reeseville, North Carolina wanted a
home for wayward girls anywhere near them. But Crystal, who owned more than 100
acres of land in West Duval County, subscribed to the notion that one good turn
deserved another. “To whom much is given, much is required,” Grandmother Hughes
would always say. Crystal told the board of county commissioners that Starlight
could have as much space as they needed. She treated the girls in Starlight
just like the sisters she never had and in return, they treated her to
surprises like planting rose bushes in her yard, raking her lawn and working in
her community garden without any complaints.

            Placing
her hands on her hips and smacking a wad of gum, Monique stood up and looked
Crystal in the eyes. “Well, it was supposed to be a surprise. But we found
those orange rose bushes you were talking about. Why are you up so early?”

            Nervously,
Crystal twisted the green jade ring on her index finger. There was no way she
could tell these girls about Welco’s plans, plans that would level everything
on her property. In their short lives, they’d seen so much disappointment and
despair and Crystal wasn’t going to let evil Welco Industries add to it. She’d
grown tired of watching this company buy up Reeseville as if they were playing
Monopoly.

            “Just
some business in town, sweeties,” replied Crystal. “Thank you so much for my
surprise, though.”

            Mrs.
Brooke Fey, the director and on-sight operator of the house, walked over to
Crystal and the girls. “Ms. Hughes, I hope MJ and Renda aren’t bothering you
this morning,” she said, surveying the scene in front of her.

            “Oh,
no. These girls have given me something that I’ve wanted for a long time. Now,
I really have to go.” Crystal ran to her car, nearly tripping over her
Birkenstock clogs and ankle-length rainbow skirt. She started the car and
peeled out of the driveway, leaving two black marks on the pavement. This isn’t
going to happen. Welco isn’t going to buy me!




            It
wasn’t nine a.m. yet and Douglas Wellington III, president and CEO of Welco
Industries, was popping aspirin. His head throbbed like heartbeat, because the
board was on his back, his assistant couldn’t find the documents he needed for
his ten-thirty presentation -- and did she just say a woman was threatening to
chain herself to the front door if he didn’t meet with her immediately?

            “Amy!
Amy! I don’t have time to meet with some kook. Call security or something. But
what you need to do more than anything else is find my proposal!” he barked
into the phone. From his desk, Douglas scrutinized Amy’s small frame as she slumped
over her desk. He knew he was too hard on her, but today wasn’t a day for
anyone to expect kindness from him. Twirling a silver ink pen between his
fingers, Douglas picked up the phone and dialed Waylon Terrell’s number. Waylon
was his father’s best friend and Douglas’s godfather. In business, the only
person Douglas trusted other than himself was Waylon. Waylon had mentored him
and guided him though some of his toughest business decisions.

            “Hello,
godson,” the older man said when he answered.

            “Waylon,
the board is driving me crazy,” Douglas admitted. “I know they want me gone and
I’m beginning to think Amy is working against me, too.”

            “Calm
down, son. These guys want you out of Welco, but your father groomed you your
whole life for this. Don’t let these old bastards push you around. Take a deep
breath and show them who Doug Trey is.”

            Hearing
his nickname brought a smile to Douglas’s face. “All right, Doc,” he replied.
“Did you take a look at my business park plans?”

            “Uh,
I haven’t really looked over them. I’m retired, remember. I’ll get back to you
in a few days, but isn’t this decision already made?”

            Sighing,
Douglas wished he’d gone to Waylon before presenting this business park idea to
the board. What if he was going about building this place the wrong way?

            I
can’t second guess myself, that’s what they expect.

            “You’re
still here?” Waylon asked, breaking into Douglas’s thoughts.

            “Yeah,
yeah. I’m going to go. We’ll have to have dinner sometime this week,” said
Douglas. He hung up when he noticed Amy standing at his door. “What?”

            “Sir,”
she said nervously. “That woman won’t leave. She’s handcuffed herself to my
desk, sir. With her free hand, she keeps knocking papers off my desk.”

            Muttering
a string of curses and profanities that would make a sailor blush, Douglas
snatched his phone off the hook and dialed security. “There is a woman that
needs to be removed from the building. You’ll notice that she’s wearing
handcuffs,” Douglas growled at the guard. Slamming the phone down, he walked
over to the window and peered at the woman cuffed to Amy’s desk as she dug in a
huge brown sack. Thinking she may have a gun, Douglas pulled Amy into his
office and slammed the door. They ducked behind his desk, waiting for the woman
to make her next move.




            The
artificial beauty of the Welco lobby grated on Crystal’s nerves; from the
potted silk plants to the shiny marble floors and the huge windows allowing
bright sunlight to saturate the building. But there’s no life force here, she
thought as she looked around. Crystal spotted a menacing security officer
walking toward her, his massive hand at his side, gripping his flashlight.
Dropping her bag to the floor, Crystal sat down on the floor crossing her legs
Indian style. This wasn’t her first time standing up—rather sitting down--to
corporate security. She and some of the girls from the Starlight House
protested the local mall because security officers had harassed a number of
young people for no reason. The Reeseville Mall ended up donating $100,000 to
the Starlight House to stop the weekly protests and the security guards were
trained how to deal with diverse youth. Crystal’s reputation as a community
activist was born the day the settlement was announced.

            The
Welco security officer, who reminded her of an ogre from Greek mythology,
snarled at her before saying, “Ma’am, unlock these handcuffs and leave.”

            Rolling
her eyes, Crystal stood up to the towering guard. “If you want me to leave, get
Wellington out here, otherwise, I’m camping out. What’s right is right. I don’t
want to make a scene, but I will and the whole town will see it.”

Crystal threw her hand up
illustrating how close they are to the big bay window. Slowly, she returned to
her seat on the floor.

            The
security officer ripped his radio from his hip holster as Crystal pulled a
bottle of water from her bag. “All right,” the officer said. “Promise me that
you don’t have a gun in that sack and I’ll see about getting Wellington out
here.”

            Crystal
looked at him quizzically. “Why the change of heart?”

            Placing
his hand on her shoulder, he smiled. “He ain’t my favorite person, either. Hold
tight.” The officer waddled down the hall and disappeared behind two glass
doors.

            Crystal
drank her water slowly, waiting for something to happen. When is old Wellington
going to appear? She’d already built an image of this monster in her
mind—pencil thin, receding gray hair, a potbelly and crooked teeth. Only a
monster like that would want to displace people for the almighty dollar. Only a
monster like that would view people as a commodity to be bought and sold. Not
Crystal, she wasn’t for sale.

            Moments
later, a tall man, moving with the grace of a panther and the body of a Greek
god, crossed the lobby and planted himself in front of her. Crystal stared up
at him, momentarily speechless as he stared at her with slate grey eyes. His
full lips seemingly beckoned her to kiss them and those hands-big and wide with
long fingers. She wanted them on her body, caressing her breasts, thighs and
everything in between. Rapidly, she blinked and swallowed hard.

            His
face told a story of annoyance, with the scowl darkening his handsome features
and his wide nostrils flaring with anger. “Are you going to just stare at me or
do you have something to say?” His voice reminded her of a sensual sax,
hypnotic and melodic. Her body was electrified at the thought of him whispering
sweet words of passion in her ear.

            “I’m
not talking to anyone but Douglas Wellington.” Crystal’s voice wavered, but not
from fear, carnal desire described what she’s feeling as she stared into his
eyes.

            “I
am Douglas Wellington, the third,” he announced proudly.

            Now
on her feet, Crystal was dumbfounded. There was no way a man this beautiful
could be as cold and callous as the man she’d dreamed up in her head. Where were
his fangs, protruding belly and horns? The scent of burning sulfur and
brimstone?

 
“What? You’re Douglas Wellington?”

            He
folded his arms across his chest and shot her a look of irritation. “This is
fascinating and all, listening to you repeat my name. But what the hell do you
want, lady?”

            Narrowing
her dark eyes into slits, Crystal exclaimed, “My land is not for sale, you
pompous ass. If you think for one second that I will allow you to come on to my
property and just take over because you want to, you can forget it.”

            Douglas
laughed and turned to walk away. “I’m calling the police.”

            “And
I’m calling the press, jerk! Do you realize what you’re planning to destroy all
in the name of corporate greed? People need this land and I will fight you
tooth and nail to make sure it stays in my possession.”

            Douglas
waved her off as if she was a gnat buzzing around his ear. “If you don’t
unshackle yourself by the time I get in my office and get out of this building,
I will press charges when the police arrive.”

The RNC has me confused and it's only the first day.

I watched some of the Republican National Convention on TV last night. I'm confused by the statement, take our country back.


Take our country back from what? That seems to be theme of the RNC. I wish they'd just be honest, they want to take the country back from the black man in the White House -- who obviously can control the weather to hear Rush Limbaugh tell it.

Rush Limbaugh had a typically unique take on the threat of Tropical
Storm Isaac during his Monday show, appearing to suggest that the Obama
administration had tampered with the forecasts of the storm to hurt the
Republicans.

The tropical storm is threatening to turn into a hurricane just as it
hits New Orleans, bringing up grim memories of Hurricane Katrina and making the GOP worry about how its convention in Tampa will be affected. Monday's proceedings already had to be canceled.

To hear Limbaugh tell it, though, that was the point. "With none of
this am I alleging conspiracy," he said on Monday. It sure sounded like
he was alleging one, though.

He went on to note that the Hurricane Center that monitors such
things is "the regime," as he put it. "It's the government. It's Obama."

Limbaugh said that he grew suspicious because he noticed that the
forecast for Isaac had shifted dramatically away from Florida soon after
the Republicans canceled the first day of the convention.

"What could be better for the Democrats than the Republicans to
cancel a day of this?" he said. "...I'm alleging no conspiracy. I'm just
telling you, folks, when you put this all together in this timeline,
I'm telling you, it's unbelievable!"

But that's not nuts, not at all.



Ann Romney, wife of GOP nominee Mitt, gave a speech about love. The love of a mother of five, the love of a woman who met a man in high school and fell for him. She basically said that Mitt got her home safely after a high school dance and that qualifies him to be the president.

And she talked about women having a harder time than men. I'm not buying that she understands hard times. Neither is Fox News's Juan Williams. Yes, you read that right, Fox News.







But Ann loves women!!



The GOP tries to convince us that they love America, right. And to love America that means you have to love everybody, right? Not so much. 

An attendee at the Republican National Convention in Tampa on Tuesday
allegedly threw nuts at a black camerawoman working for CNN and said
“This is how we feed animals” before being removed from the convention, a
network official confirmed to TPM.

The CNN official declined to confirm specific details of the incident
to TPM but generally confirmed an account posted on Twitter by former
MSNBC and Current anchor David Shuster: “GOP attendee ejected for
throwing nuts at African American CNN camera woman + saying ‘This is how
we feed animals.’”


It is not clear whether the alleged culprit was a delegate or attending the convention in some other capacity.

Ann and New Jersey governor Chris Christie flaunted the fact that their parents and grandparents weren't born in America. Isn't this the same party that has bitched and moaned about President Barack Obama's birth for the last three and a half years? I call shenanigans!  But I don't want to see Romney's birth certificate, I want to see his tax returns and the balance of the account he has in those off-shore accounts.

(OAN: I worry about Christie's health. He is morbidly obese and if he doesn't lose some weight, he's going to need Obamacare.)



Singer Eric Benet said it best about the RNC on Twitter.

Eric Benet
‏@ebenet

The RepublicanNationalConvention is in a 3way tie with a NASCAR race and a Klan rally for fewest black people events.

Video blog: First time voter

Red Hook Summer review

My favorite Spike Lee movie, besides Malcolm X, is Crooklyn. I honestly thought Red Hook Summer was going to be a movie in that vein.
Well, I was wrong.

Lee takes you to church and then he makes you think long and hard about what you believe and who you trust. Initially, I thought this was a Spike Lee movie that Tyler Perry fans could enjoy as well. Yeah, not so much.

This movie is the latest in Lee's chronicles of Brooklyn series, which includes She's Gotta Have It, Crooklyn, He Got Game, Do The Right Thing and Clockers. So, you know there's a Spike Lee twist in this movie.

Here's the synopsis:
Flik Royale, a sullen
young boy from middle-class Atlanta who has come to spend the summer
with his deeply religious grandfather, Bishop Enoch Rouse, in the
housing projects of Red Hook. Having never met before, things quickly
get off on the wrong foot as Bishop Enoch relentlessly attempts to
convert Flik into a follower of Jesus Christ. Between his
grandfather’s constant preaching and the culture shock of inner-city
life, Flik’s summer appears to be a total disaster--until he meets
Chazz Morningstar, a pretty girl his age, who shows Flik the brighter
side of Brooklyn. Through her love and the love of his grandfather,
Flik begins to realize that the world is a lot bigger, and perhaps a
lot better, than he’d ever imagined.
Here's why you should go see it:
There's comedy. Thomas Byrd Jefferson plays the role of a drunk Deacon who can't stand the fact that folks didn't buy Apple stock when he told them to.
There's sadness. Flik and Bishop Enoch have never met and just when it looks as if their relationship is about to develop into something good, BAM! Spike Lee makes sure it's never going to happen that way.
There's a youthful zest. Flik and Chazz run through Brooklyn making you yearn for never ending summer days and humid summer nights.

Here's what I wished had been explained:
Why did Bishop Enoch and his daughter fall out? And if she hadn't talked to her father in so many years, why did she send her son to spend the summer with him?
Red Hook Summer is Spike Lee's baby, he financed this movie and has been working his ass off to get it seen. You should definitely go check it out.
It's not Lee's best, but it's still better than 95 percent of the black movies that have been pumped out in the last three years.

Video rant: This is Charlotte's art's district?

While I was riding around and getting it, well, going for coffee. I headed to Charlotte's Arts District. And something struck me. . .THERE ARE NO GALLERIES. THERE IS NO ART. Are we seriously still calling NoDa (city slang for North Davidson Street) the city's art's district?

The Matheson Street bridge is not enough.



Watch this video:









Want to read more? Here's a sanitized oral history of NoDa (North Charlotte).