When In Doubt or Fear Take A Deep Breath

It is the stories that we tell each other. Our life experiences and those of our kind. This is a short story about perception, fear and riding the rails. The Los Angeles Sheriff Department (LASD) patrols the unincorporated areas of Los Angeles. They also have jurisdiction over the jail system and provide security services for our mass transit system.

You need to know something about the Sheriff deputies. The deputies do go through a training system similar to the LAPD. These are law enforcement officers.

There is a difference. The LAPD offices work with the general public. They are trained to work with different kinds of people. They observe the day to day activities of Angelenos. They can perceive the difference between non-criminal people and those up to no-good. They ain't perfect. There are issues but you have a 60/40 chance of having a civil conversation with them.

The Sheriff deputies are assigned to the jail system as one of their primary duty bases. It is service to a specialized population that requires a different set of skills.

So when the Sheriff deputies get promoted, transferred or bounced from the Twin Towers they are placed in contact with the general public.

Stew on that for a bit. Ex-jailers going into day to day contact with regular citizens.

In our local media there are plenty of stories about the LASD. The bottom line is that you don't want to make unnecessary contact with them if possible. You can be hurt. You can be dead. And, the LASD is truly an equal opportunity organization. There is no privileged with these folks.

There was one deputy in Pasadena that use to inspect the buses. You could tell he hated the job. Hated the passengers on sight. His shirt was so tight I bet he stitched it himself in just to contain his wrath.

Sooo...

Yesterday I was on the train. I had charged up my TAP card. I had my receipt. I hit the tap portal that proves you paid the fare. You want to make sure you do this because there is a $250 fine and 48 hours community service. You would get to spend more time with the deputies. Not something to aspire to on a weekend.

I'm grooving on the train, the A/C is on and it is a mellow ride. Soon, there was a change in the force. Two deputies get on board to inspect for fare compliance.

You can see the body language of folks stiffen up. Those few that hadn't paid their fare were trying to ease on down to the next care to get off. Some didn't make it.

I'm looking and not looking. The deputy comes up to me and ask for my card. He has a smile on his face.

"It is a beautiful day today, isn't it?" He takes my card and runs it through the scanner.
"Why, yes it certainly is" as I try to bite down the fear and look him in the eye.

If he is willing to be nice I'm willing to try to be polite.

There is a problem.

"I can see you added fare at the Fillmore station but it is not showing that you tapped at the terminal."

"I'm sure that I tapped my card." I'm trying to stay cool because $250 is a lot less to loose than getting bashed in the head.

"No problem, those are older terminals. Just make sure you hold it for a longer period of time."

That was it. Brain is trying to remind me to exhale. I would have too except his partner was writing out fare evasion tickets like white on rice.

And breathe, and did I tap or think that I tapped? I usually tap. This could have gone so wrong. What if I didn't tap? I was rattled so I honestly don't know if I did or didn't.

Still, in my years of riding I have rarely seen a deputy smile or be willing to be friendly.

It was a good day. 

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Just How Inclusive Do We Want To Be?

I want to talk about about something that is hard for a non-academic person to articulate let alone try to put into a public post. What does inclusive mean anymore in a public space?

This posts is not about feminism, Miley Cyrus, Fast Company, Twitter or the patriarchy. They do play a part in this musing but not really what I want to talk about.

It is about the audience. We are the audience except when we are not, as in not seen or acknowledge. It is kinda like sanctified pussy. Meaning, you want your cake and eat it too without repercussions.

Who do we perceive as the audience? Bloggers are not exempt musing but this post is mainly about mainstream media publications and content makers.

I think many on-line, off-line publications and mainstream media still believe that the demographics in their media kits totally define who their target audience is or who they desired it to be.

Allowing just demographics to define your audience in 2013 might not be the way to go.  But what do I know? I'm part of the invisible people.

Still, for giggles let's look at the Fast Companies media kit demographics:

Readership is 66% male/34% female
Median Age of Readership is 45+ for print version and 35+ for web version.

Median HHI is $175,275 for print readers
Median HHI is $72,907 for web viewers
Primary readership is managerial/professional level

Would I be perceived as a Fast Company reader? Would an Latino man working in IT be perceived as one? How about an Asian woman working in management that isn't paid the same as her Anglo male co-worker but does exactly the same job?

And even if we were perceived as readers would the expectation be that those of us that don't fit the above demographic profile would come for the content that was tech influenced or connected to business or the intersections of tech, culture and money?

Would we automatically accept that our respective cultures would not be reflected in the publication?

When they came up with that 25 Smartest Women on Twitter listical they had it coming and they got it.  And I'd lay cash money (up to $1) that they still don't know why.

True, Fast Company responded with a second posts that included more diversity and actual Twitter users but yeah, not sure they totally got it enough to be more inclusive on a regular basis.

When this type of question was asked in the 1960's, 1970s, 1980's....(Yes, this is a long dodged question by publishers, television producers and filmmakers. ) 2000s up to the 2013 the usual response has been:

"Sure, we love all of our audience. But we are just one "insert the blank" and we have an obligation to our advertisers and our primary audience which is "insert the blank."  We do what we can to be inclusive but..."

And mainstream media makers got away with that bullshit for a long, long time. That time might be ending. Or not. But change is being forced upon them.

With Twitter and Facebook in play, mainstream publishers cannot put up a wall between themselves and their total audiences. Publications and media outlets are now being called up on the shim-sham.

If they are lucky. Those are the people that care. Angry, but they do care. These are the folks that are telling media makers that you cannot pretend that "the other" does not exist.

The audience stake-holders are talking back.  For example, when ABC News had an expert explain Twerking people became unhinged.

We expect a news channel to aim a little higher than the anal clef. It is a diminished expectation sure, but folks were a little put off just the same. Yes, exercising your butt and thighs is good for you but this is a news item?

African-Americans were rightfully up in agitation because Cyrus not only did not perform the dance correctly but is anatomically ill-equip to compensate for a lack of dance skill. It was another dose of cultural appropriation and it still is distasteful.

And yet, Miley Cyrus name is permanently attached to Twerking by mainstream media and not Big Frieedia.

A moment for the obligatory Big Fredia video. Those with conservative constitutions should not watch this video.  Those who don't want to see true dancing or ass flipping are also cautioned against viewing.

I am not responsible if you get up out of your chair and try this at home without warming up first.





Eh, where was I. Oh, yeah.

Who was the intended audience? Those that voluntarily watched the VMAs. Not me. I'm still not and will never be but it was forced upon me none the less.

It isn't necessarily just about race, gender or affinity. We had black folks acting the fool as well. Russell Simmons was quickly corrected.

I think we underestimate just how strong a pull a male dominated society influences the American culture. When certain white women feminists choose to defend Hugo Schwyzer over women of color that were being victimize by this man for calling him on his shit then we gotta look at the possible reasons why:

In my subjective opinion:

1. A white male ally is worth more television and print time than the value of a black, Latino or Asian woman's voice.
2. Who was the audience they wanted to reach? Not an inclusive one but an audience that fit into their perceived demographic of power. Hugo was the emblem that pushed their agenda and made it palatable to certain viewers.
3. Do some people's voices have to be subjugated in order to advance the cause? That is what some (a fractional few to be sure) have advocated.

Oww. Which lead to more questions like:

• How Inclusive are we in our silos?
• Is it a silo or a bunker mentality? You know people get a little freaky in the bunker right?
• Can we be inclusive and still maintain our identity?
• Can we lean to use citation when appropriating another cultures art forms?

 
There are so many more questions but I have to lay this burden down for a while. 

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Learning Again How to Carrying the Bags Home

Living in the Southland is never constant. Life might seem the same day after day but then the next day does a wooga-wooga on you. You have to re-calibrate.

Take plastic shopping bags. South Pasadena say yes, Pasadena say no. Long Beach says no, Los Angeles is thinking about it.

Los Angeles is always thinking about stuff. Takes them a good chunk of chew time to do anything and when they do decide it will cost the citizens more in the short, middle and long term.

(Confirmed: Yes, the city of Los Angeles will go plastic bag free on January 1, 2014.)

Hmmm. I had a point I was trying to make.

So when you go out to shop you not only have to remember what you need but also remembering to bring a bag or two with you to bring it home. If you forget your bag(s) you can pay 10 cents for a "multi-use" bag.

This will be either paper or a heavier grade plastic bag.  You can buy one of those recycle spun totes for 99 cents.

Savvy shoppers and Frugalistas know you gotta bring your own bag. Because that paper bag isn't designed for the sharp corners of modern packaging. Those paper bags are embarrassing people all over the place.

I've seen cans of peas roll to the front of the bus to the back as blushing grandmas try to cope.

Using plastic is kinda wrong to me but I keep a spare on in my handbag just in case. To pay it forward just in case.

You do not have to use a bag. You can carry your stuff out of the store.

For those of us under lifetime racial, ethnic or cultural profiling orders I shouldn't have to say this but "No you can't" and you know it even if you have the receipt pinned to your chest. 

It is about change. It is about remembering to get only what you need cuz if you go overboard you too can have celery roll down El Molina Avenue.

It is about planning. And being true to the real world application of a cleaner city and not just that it is a good idea.

Doing the right thing takes adjustments. Plastic bags first, then Syrofoam, then maybe sensible packaging followed by no fracking near clean water or maybe no fracking at all.

Baby steps.

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Harriet Tubman - Lift Her Up!

It is time for clean up duty. The damage has been done. The Russell Simmons video that was an alleged comedy about Sister Tubman has been pulled from YouTube. I suspect there may be other copies of the video that will be posted again and again.

There are people who insist that it is their right to laugh at the video and call it funny. It is their way of fighting political correctness. Those people are not my immediate concern. 

There is a problem that we can do something about. Nothing goes away on the Internet. That damn title of the video is the most recent search engince citation containing Harriet Tubman's name.

When it comes time school children to do a search guess which item is going to come to the surface? There are currently about 290,000 Google listings for Russell Simmons, Tubman and Sex.

Do you want to be the teacher or parent that has to explain this?

Those poor kids are going to be bamboozled about Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Killer. What do you think this will do to them? Grown folks, we gotta clean it up.

Lift Her Up! 

Here is your assignment. If you have a post about Ms. Tubman that is appropriate then post it on your blog and tell two friends.

If you have a book recommendation or want to do a book review of something that you have read to your kids post it up and tell two friends.




If you know of a video NOT created or paid for by Russell Simmons that can help people understand the real deal lets share that link that up as well.

We need to push the title of the video way, way down in the search results. This is also a good time to inform the young ones that we have a history that cannot be bought with silver and gold.

You can be angry or you can do something about it.

I'll add citations and other info in this post but I can't do this by myself. As many tweets that went out about the video is that's how many good resources we'll need to flush it out.

For People that Cut History Class and Have to Get up to Speed

Harriet Tubman Humanitarian, Leader, Hero Mini Documentary

TeacherTube video on Harriet Tubman as Older Woman
Intro Video on Harriet Tubman Byway in Maryland

One hour video from the Brooklyn Museum's Elizabeth Sackler Center on Feminist Art - Author Beverly Lowry discusses her book Harriet Tubman: Imagining a Life

U.S., State and Local Government Sites

America's Story from America's Library - Harriet Tubman
National Park Service Underground Railroad Monument Page
Maryland's Harriet Tubman's Underground Railroad Byway



For Parents and School Research

Good Reads Book List on Harriet Tubman
IMDB Page on the movie A Woman Called Moses performed by Cicily Tyson
Library of Congress Harriet Tubman Online Resources
Scholastic Harriet Tubman Web Hunt
University of North Carolina at Chapple Hill - Black Abolitionist Papers about Harriet Tubman   
WorldCat Library Search of Books, Audio, Articles and other media

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Not Able to Write the Ballad of Duan Huego

I wish I could write satire. I can see Duan Huego galloping into the village; his steely eyes talking in the droopy draw-ed teenagers as he smiles at the peasant women who light up when they see him. Old spice in the noon day sun.

Yes, indeed, it could be a laugh riot. Cept I don't know how to write satire. And I don't do humor well. Still, I would kinda start out with something like:

The Ballad of Duan Huego

Imaging, if you will, the sound of a galloping horse, a mighty steed with a manly man in touch with himself. So in touch with the wisdom of the ages he is all knowing, all seeing.

Cue out of tune guitar, belching and 1/3 hand clapping.

In the little dusty brown town there are people. Some that wear belts and others that have droopy draws. Some that wear skirts and some that wear over sized peddle pushers.

I probably shouldn't pinch a bit of narrative structure from all those Saturday afternoons watching movies like A Fistful of Dollars. I probably can't do that without some attorney drooling over possible infringement.

To appropriate a saying from my UK friends, "bugger off " if any attorney is in litigation mode. I'm not writing it. 

Anyway, back to the non-story story:

I imagine that Duan Huego has come to fix the town. Not that anybody actually asked him to. The man has his public and private agendas and feels duty bound to express one or the other at the barrel of a gun.

First, he caps all the droopy draw-ed young men because, well, it is easier to dispose of young men than to deal with structural and environmental conditions that caused their pants to droop.

Sure, he could have allowed them to continue wandering around trying to find some way to support themselves but that would involve actual contact and conversation.

Duan Huego ain't got time for that. He just wipes them all out and tell the town to start again. Yes, there will be wailing and many of the town members would be upset. As Duan Huego clamps down on the Twinkie half hanging out of his mouth, he knows that sartorial appearances trump indigenous rights of existence. 

And speaking of rights, he....

Hmm. Perhaps Duan Huego doesn't have a Twinkie half hanging out his mouth. It could be a  Chocodile.  Yeah, I like Chocodiles.

Anyway, I can see him rolling and sucking on that Chocodile like a god possessed.

Duan Huego looks on as the town re-allocates money from the schools to the new sports stadium. Not sure who is gonna play in the big game seeing as how he whacked most of the local teams.

But he does support Title IX. In his wisdom, he settles in to coach the ladies basketball team.

One of the women in the town approaches him and ask if he can do anything about those laddie magazines in the supermarket. The ones that have all kind of nakedness and booblification on display at the checkout counter.

Duan Huego looks softly into the woman's eyes and tells her he feels her pain, her anguish and her frustrations of being surrounded by uncaring men in shark-skinned suits. At that very moment, Duan Huego central nervous system shifts to his inner femme.

You know, I don't think they had shark-skinned suits back in the day. Need more research on male fashions in dusty brown towns.

Other women start to approach Duan Huego and they like what they hear. They invite him to dinner, the Sunday lunch and the Fish Fry. Duan Huego doesn't do a dang thing about getting the laddie mags out of the supermarket but he talks so convincingly about the need to do so. Many of the women forget the harm that has been done by eliminating other women's male children.

They decide he is their voice; even though they have voices of their own.

One day, a woman came to town. She recognized the horse. The trail of Chocodile wrappers all up and down the street. The weeping widow whose husband ain't dead but might as well have been since she took up with Duan Huego.

The woman with no name talks to other women about what she knows about Duan Huego. They don't believe her. Some of the members of the basketball team also share that Duan Huego has been coaching a little too much in his after school workout. An elder testifies she has seen Duan Huego with a copy of T--ts and Bits while standing in the checkout.

Hang on, maybe Duan Huego is an asset dude instead of a rack man? Then again, the way he uses his tongue to get what he wants he could be orally fixated. Need to research names of straight male magazines that denigrate women but aren't violently disgusting.

The women on team Duan Huego fight for their man. Who still talks a good game but doesn't do jack. He does put the feel on Maria behind the bleachers as the game is in progress.

Maria has that kind of voice that carries so when the ref called "Foul" Maria followed up with "Oh, God, mmm, Good God Owwwwwww with the ow rhyming with foul.

That sealed it.  The woman with no name was telling the truth. As was the elder and all other women. Everybody could now see it and there was no denying it happened.

Or could it? Yes, even with evidence Team Duan Huego would not relent. Duan Huego himself did a duck and weave as he promised never to enter the stadium again. He still is gonna diddle his woman but this time in private.

No. Not a laugh riot. Not funny. It really sucks. Just like it does in real life. 

A savior by definition is someone who takes your side. Protects you. Doesn't have to be religious to save you or reflect what you believe in. There are people that groups and communities have anointed flawed people to be their spokesperson/public saviors.

Hell, we are all flawed.

And like a true love it is hard to let go of the person that you projected so much time and effort into making what you needed him or her to be. It is the real life version of Juicy Got 'Em Crazy. 

They can't let go. They won't let go. Saviors are really hard to let go of. Because it is hard to say that you made a mistake in judging a person.

The only way to let go is to be willing to listen. And step out of the comfort zone. Not many people are willing to take that chance. It is hard. There is no progress without it.

And that is where we stand at the moment. 

Cue out of tune violin, knuckle cracking and 1/4 hand clapping. Fade to Black.

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Kathleen Sebelius on Preventative Health Care Services - BlogHer 2013

Health and Human Services Secretary Kathleen Sebelius spoke at the BlogHer 2013 HealthMinder Day Keynote session.

In this clip, Ms. Sebelius talks about some of the preventative services available to women under the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act; often referred to as Obamacare.






Some of those services are:

An annual well-woman preventive care visit for adult women.

Contraception and contraceptive counseling: Women with reproductive capacity have access to all Food and Drug Administration-approved contraceptive methods, sterilization procedures, and patient education and counseling, as prescribed by a health care provider.

STI counseling: Sexually active women have access to annual counseling on sexually transmitted infections (STIs).

Gestational diabetes screening: This screening is for women 24 to 28 weeks pregnant, and those at high risk of developing gestational diabetes.

Breastfeeding support, supplies, and counseling: Pregnant and postpartum women have access to comprehensive lactation support and counseling from trained providers, as well as breastfeeding equipment.

For more information visit the HHS Fact Sheet about women's preventative health services.

This is one of many videos that I have recorded during the BlogHer 2013 conference. I will be uploading more clips of Secretary Sebelius keynote as time and Internet connection permits me to do so.

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Waiting for Harlan at the Barbershop

It has been a few weeks since this happened. Maybe I have a better perspective from a distance. I don’t know. To recap, I had an opportunity to see Harlan Ellison in Los Angeles and I took it. This involved trains, Hollywood Boulevard and buses. And my ability to get lost when I think a place is other than where I think it should be.

After the tour barker incident and waiting 20+ minutes for the right bus I arrived at the 4300 block of Hollywood Boulevard. To say that this block has memories for me is an understatement. The last time I was in this area was the afternoon of the Rodney King verdict. There was a bookstore that I checked out from time to time. It is gone now.

So is the Circuit City and other businesses. There weren’t that many of them. It was the kind of street you walked fast to get to your bus connections.  It was a miracle that I made it home that night.

Now there are upscale boutiques. hipster hamburger joints and spray art on the sidewalk. I don’t see any winos or junkies. I don’t smell anything but air.

It is discombobulating. Not bad, but I occupy two different places at the same time.

This is not how it use to be.  I am adjusting.

There are a few fans lined up between the Sweeny Todd Barber Shop and the Luz de Jesus Gallery. We are older. Hair is grey in patches. Everybody has their phone ready to take a photo. Denim, spandex and tattoos are plentiful.

This is the cover of his new book of long out of print lad stories. Seeing as how I bough his  books at a stripped book store in the past (I had no way of knowing it was un-ethical at the time) this is my way of making amends. Should you be so inclined to read his early gang and men magazine stories of the 1950s and 60s you could visit Kick Books to find out how to obtain a copy.

(In the interest of honesty, I didn't care for the JD line of books so I can't speak to the quality of them. I was not in the demographic at the time of publication and nothing has changed since then.)

The game plan was that Ellison was supposed to get a haircut and then walk over to the gallery. I would have liked to gone into the gallery but it was a small place with too many people inside. There was plenty of action on the sidewalk.

The barber and Harlan come out of the barber shop. Harlan told the crowd don’t stand in the sun too long. Had on a nice lavender shirt, by the way. He looked good.

The barber was a right nice looking beefy guy with a traditional barber jacket that showed his tats very nicely. Poor fellow made a mistake; he asked Harlan how he was doing.

“I’m 79 years old. I feel lousy.” It is a known fact that Mr. Ellison can be terse. Caustic. They turned the corner and no one seemed to notice.

I’m still looking around clicking atmospherically evidence that as we go to hell in a hand basket a good time will be had if you know where to go.

Time marches on and I’m thinking it is mighty hot outside. Still, nothing can induce me to go inside the gallery and I sure wasn’t going into a $10 to $20 hamburger joint. I’m loyal but passing out on the boulevard is not a test I’m willing to take.

I snap up other items of interest and slowly move my body away from the festivities. Then I hear a horn, A old school horn and peep into the car. There he was in the back seat. I had this quizzical look on my face. I looked at him. He looked at me, shrugged his shoulders and I nodded back.

I understood. I think.

Harlan got out of the car. Two motorcycle people in black leather braced him as folks took photos. Then he entered the barbershop. And people proceeded to take photos of him getting a hair cut.

I’m looking at them. At the Lone Ranger billboard. At the neighborhood that sprung up from the old.

The colors of the buildings and the sky.

I couldn’t ask for anything more. Or so I thought. The driver of the car got out. He was a little tense. His only words were a frantic “I gonna have my beer.”

Back on Hollywood Boulevard proper, I came across another person who was throwing up because he was drinking fortified malt liquor in the 3 p.m. sun and that wasn’t a smart thing to do.

My center had been restored.

I went home.

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