January 3, 2009

Proper grammar? Overrated

Got an interesting e-mail today.  Of course, it came from someone that didn’t want to use his or her real name.  It typically goes like that.

Hey Bomani,

I think you have the most interesting take on sports of anyone at the station.  It is unfortunate that part of your style is terrible grammar.  Saying  “ain’t”  every now and then is ok but you say ” ain’t no” in practically every sentence. (?)

What’s the point?  Are you trying to appeal to a young demographic??    I don’t get it. 

I turn the station because you sound like a stereotype and you know what I am talking about.   ( Is it not cool to sound like you finished college?)

Disgusted in Orange County

I suppose I should start by saying thanks. From there, I kinda wonder how this kind listener doesn’t see the connection between his seemingly disparate points.

If I were being self-indulgent and literary, I’d say I sound like someone that lives between worlds but truly inhabits none but his own.  That’s only if I were that sort of guy, though.  Instead, I’ll just say I speak like I speak.

On my show, I talk with you the way I would talk with you if you were hanging out in my living room.  In my living room, the last thing I’m concerned with is whether nouns and verbs agree.  In private company, you have the advantage of doing things with language that allow you to deviate from the rules of grammar to convey a range of emotions.  If it sounds funny or cool, I can roll with it.  The spoken word allows unparalleled flexibility when it comes to making words pop.

And I use it.  Gonna use it ’til I use it up, in fact.  Check the archives of this blog if you don’t believe me.

The purpose of communication is not to follow rules, but to get thoughts, ideas and feelings across.  I could be wrong, but I think I take care of that on my shows.  If the grammar offends your sensibilities, I’d hate to hear what you think about some of the things I say.

Now, is it cool to sound like you didn’t go to college?  Well, it’s isn’t necessarily uncool, particularly if you didn’t go to college.  

Of course, I don’t sound like that.  I’m not sure it’s my place to say that, but I’m pretty sure I sound like I went to college no matter what I’m saying or talking about.  I started college the day I was born, and I’ve never really stopped going.  That’s the world I came from.

One thing I learned from college — and it’s something I learned from both those that did and didn’t attend school — intelligence doesn’t have a standardized sound.  What gets so many people fooled is thinking that sounding “polished” is the same as being smart.  It’s not.  That thinking is nothing but a con game, one that separates the washed and unwashed but does little else.

I’m smart.  I sound smart.  Why?  Because I’m smart and, when I talk, this is what smart sounds like.  Sounds different if I’m on a job interview or dealing with one of those fuckers at tech support, but it’s all smart.  I couldn’t hide it as a kid, so why try now?

The connection, you ask?  I have enough faith in my insights — or whatever the hell it is that I offer on the air — will shine through whatever diction I use.  You can say I don’t speak properly, but you can’t say I don’t speak clearly.  That you understand me is what’s most important (after not cussing, which really requires me a great deal of energy).  That you hear it as I think it comes next.  Whether or not you think I went to college is wayyyyy low on the list.

My shows are mine.  My house, if you will.  Anyone’s welcome to hang out.  The FCC might affect how I speak, but the opinions of an English teacher will not.

I leave you with a listener that seems to get my point.

Professor,

I just had to write in and comment on the e-mailer this AM and your response regarding the use of impactful grammar…

Einstein once said (and I’m paraphrasing here) that you really don’t understand something unless you can explain it to your grandmother.  In other words, part of any conversation is knowing your audience.  

Many of the students I work with are nursing majors who are in the front line (so to speak) in combating illness and injury.  One thing they must do is communicate with the patients and the family about what is going on…a skill that is not emphasized by the MDs themselves.  Different assignments in my courses have different goals in terms of communication levels.  Some papers and presentations are formal while others are not.  In fact my favorite assignment is what I call a ‘Grandmother Summary’ (I know…it needs a much better name).  Students have to write a short paper summarizing a particular topic as if they are talking to their grandmother.  I often get a better handle on just what the students have LEARNED as opposed to MEMORIZED with this assignment.

Long letter, but I do have a point (somewhere).  You know your audience and you speak TO us, not AT us.  I don’t always agree with your views but I love your shows because you support your views and do a tremendously entertaining job at presenting them.

Great work.

Kevin

January 1, 2009

I may laugh at this forever

NSFW. Not safe for mothers, really, but I think mine would appreciate the humor of it, if not the shock. Watch to the end, I promise. This is the greatest shutdown line ever.

Really, what do you say to that? Neither Kirk nor I could think of an appropriate response but, “dicks out my what?”

Wish I coulda said that to a caller on Wednesday.

December 30, 2008

A milestone

Greetings from my barbershop. I keep a pretty low profile in here. For one, nobody gives a damn who I am. Second, I don’t like anything that involves waiting. I’m trying to get in and get out.

Walked in today, and one of the cats pointed at me. Seems they’d seen the TV One special and recognized me.

I mention this because being recognized in the barber shop is one of those things that’s kinda cool. Like a miniature version of making the cover of Jet.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must cue up the pentultimate song on the Purple Rain soundtrack.

December 28, 2008

PSA: Notorious

So I see Notorious, this movie about Biggie — which I hear is actually pretty good — is coming out on January 16.  As many of you have heard, the patron saint for us tall, skinny lightskinneded smart dudes is being inaugurated four days later.

With that in mind, I ask for one thing — can y’all please not get to shooting or nothing like that?

Now, here’s the thing…

There is a belief that you can’t take black folks nowhere, cuz we’re gonna act a fool.  Now, will we act a fool?  Probably not.

Will someone?  Absolutely.  

Why?  Because we can’t have anything without the fools showing up.

That’s the funny thing about race.  It’s taken a wildly diverse group of people and convinced them that they’re all the same.  When white folks get together in large groups, they do so in small groups centered around some common interest.

Spring break at Panama Beach?  The college students head out.  Biker rally at Sturgis?  The bikers come out.  It’s cliqued up like that.  There’s enough cool stuff for white people to do among themselves that they can break up into crews and do what they do.

Oh, but when my folks have something, we’re all showing up.  All someone needs to say is that there will be tenders, and we are all there.  Freaknic started as a picnic thrown by the DC Metro Club of the Atlanta University Center.  Few years later, it’s a friggin’ phenomenon.

Why?  Because someone heard Freaknic was off the chains.  And once word — and video — hit the barber shop, we were alllll coming, from the SGA President at Hampton to the cat wit the fattest sacks in Brooklyn.

That’s because black folks events are just that — black folks events.  The game hasn’t really allowed us to break into groups (at least not in any way I’d deem positive).  We all go to everything.  Go to the All-Star Game, and we’re all there.  The bougie, the students, the working man, the hoodlum…we’re all showing up.  We all like to kick it the same way, and we know there will be tenders.  Even tenders wanna go where they know tenders will be there cuz they know dudes will be coming to swarm the tenders.

So, without those clear class lines in the way that black folks congregate — an interesting study in essentialism, btw — there’s always a chance that a knucklehead is going to show up.  In fact, it’s a guarantee.  That’s actually not so much of a problem…assuming none of the knuckleheads the first knucklehead has beef with come.

But if they’re in the same sphere?  Smoke in the city, pimpin’.  Smoke in the city.

There’s your explanation for why something seems to go down whenever a bunch of black folks get together.  For better or worse, you can’t get some of us without getting all of us.  Don’t put it on all black folks when you see that stuff.  Just understand the circumstances that make these things happen.  It ain’t like they start buckin’ at the Jack and Jill convention, yanno?  That’s actually a place where we don’t all show up…but shit, who the hell would want to kick it with them anyway?  A couple of shots might liven those parties up.

Back to Notorious.  There are two sorts of people that are certain to show up for this affair — wannabe rappers and dope boys.  Who’s most likely to look at the screen and see their lives, yanno?

Remember the thing about two knuckleheads in the same sphere?  See why I worry about Notorious?

So, you think we can get the knuckleheads to create a Facebook group or something that’ll allow them to coordinate what theaters they go to?  It ain’t like quarreling knuckleheads wanna be in the same place, yanno?  Let’s just do what we can do to make things easier on all of us.

Cuz we all know that if there’s so much as a fistfight in DC that weekend, it will be front page news for the whole weekend.  We don’t need that.  And while I’m talking about the Negroid “we,” it’s also a larger “we.”  Anything that distracts us from one of the positive milestones in American history cheats us all.

So holla at the bootleg man if you’re in a bad mood on Notorious weekend.

I refuse to allow anyone to pretend, even for a second, as if some dude I’ve never met is at all a representation of me.  That groupthink bullshit reinforces the racism we claim we’re tired of, completely ignoring that racism, by definition, strips us of our individuality.  And, well, individuals are allowed to be as foul and stupid as they want.  Ain’t got a lick to do with me.  If there’s a groupthink attitude to take toward those people, then Americans should be doing that.  As Americans, let’s be embarrassed about the knuckleheads and try to fix it.

I mean, we are Americans, right?

That said — if only for that weekend, please don’t shoot at the screen.  In its own way, it’ll be like stabbing your own folks in the back.

December 27, 2008

Airplanes

They’re strange places.  Germ incubators, marvels of technology, and tests of any rational person’s patience.

That’s because, while no one wants to be talked to on a plane, we’re all connected to each other in the flying tubes.  What one person does affects another.  Blow up the bathroom, and we all suffer.

And if you bring your four children, all under the age of 7, we all gotta put up with them.

This was a flight from Atlanta to RDU.  Six hour drive.  Now, I felt super lazy about flying, but I was tired.  I imagine the parents in question were tired, too.  But you don’t need to share what’s making you tired with the rest of us.  You didn’t see me doing a show on the plane, did you?

So I had four critters behind me, and you know critters can’t be together without acting up.  Admittedly, these kids weren’t dreadful.  That said, why roll the dice with the rest of us, ha?  If it’s less than eight hours, pack up the minivan and leave us alone.  Thanks.

Now, let’s talk about the funny of the trip.  Some dude with an S-curl was sitting next to me.  That was humor in and of itself.  But right before the plane takes off, dude starts stirring next to me.  I look over, and what has he done?

Put on a fur coat.

It was almost 70 degrees in Atlanta today.  My flight took off at 6.  It was not fur weather.

And what was his hand?  A clear plastic hanging bag with his clothes.  I’m reluctant to say “bag” because that wasn’t what it was.

So you such a baller that you wear a fur on the plane, but you can’t afford a hanging bag?

The friendly skies.  The friendly friggin’ skies.

December 4, 2008

Kanye’s Masterpiece

First, I must share a story of how I know I’ve waited too long to post.  First, I don’t even remember what the last post was (which means I’ll probably do three tonight).  But I did a remote at a Jersey Mike’s in Raleigh the other day, and a woman said I needed to post on my blog again.  Now, I do really modest numbers on this bad boy, so it’s always surprising when someone knows something about the blog.  Irregular posting after about a year of being like clockwork will chase the folks off.

Well, I’m back.  What have I been up to?  Listening to that damn Kanye record.

Look, I’ve heard every single reason someone has not to like 808’s and Heartbreaks, and I don’t begrudge a single one of them.  This record won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, largely because it’s so fuckin depressing.  There’s really no other way to put it.  This is a bad mood on wax.

Had I been feeling lovely about life the first time I heard this album, I might not have dug it.  I’ve had more than a few people tell me they just couldn’t get past how gloomy the record is, and i can dig that.  I just happen to be one of those people that can’t do super happy albums.  That’s false.  Shit ain’t that sweet.

This Kanye record is real.  The backstories are pretty well known, so well known that I can summarize this record in a few words.  Goes something like this…

“My mama died.  Me and my girl broke up.  I’m in real bad shape.  That’s it.”

I had my best friend die, my old man have a health scare, and me and my girl break up in about a six month period when I was 20.  That kind of stuff just makes you go numb.  Also makes you drink, largely because numb can get boring after a while.  It’s just the kind of monotony that’s hard to shake without some “help.”

This Kanye record is numb.  Except it’s chilling and heartbreaking.  It’s heartbreaking because that numbness comes through so clearly.  Now where does it come from?  Partially lyrically, but then there’s the other thing that holds people up from loving this album… Continue reading Kanye’s Masterpiece…

November 18, 2008

Is that pestilence riding up?

Right before jumping in the shower, I looked at the Dashboard on my Mac to check the weather.  I forget the numbers, but I looked to see a little cartoon picture of some white dots falling by today’s forecast.

I say “white dots” because I know damn well that isn’t snow.  I like in North Carolina.  I live here because, among other things, it doesn’t snow in November.  It isn’t even Thanksgiving.

See, I told y’all to vote for Al Gore.

November 12, 2008

If you’ve watched The Black List…

…check out their blog right here.  Let em know what you think.

November 7, 2008

BOMANI ON TELEVISION!

It’s been a while, but it’s time for some of that good SSP.  Check out TV One next week from Sunday - Thursday at 10 p.m. ET.  There’s a special on called The Blacklist: 100 Greatest Power Moves, and I’ll be serving as what they call a “talking head.”  It’s a good special, and my suit looks pretty good.

I’ll tell you this, though…I ain’t making no promises about how much I’m actually on the show.  I was watching a sample clip — sorry, but I can’t find the link — and I noticed a lot of people waaaaaaay more famous than me.  Catch me while you can!

But please catch me.  Thank you, as always.

November 5, 2008

So what now?

That’s the question, isn’t it?  What now?

Last night was great.  As you might imagine, I wasn’t dancing and crying like everyone else was.  I did have to hold a few back when I saw Jesse Jackson crying, though.  That was, perhaps, the most poignant thing of all.

For all the talk about Jesse and his beef with Obama, somehow we forgot that Jesse’s a product of the civil rights movement.  We forget very often that Jesse Jackson has done more for black people — and, probably more importantly, poor people — than most of us could ever dream of.  He’s been blasted out of the water by those on both sides (I’m pretty hard on him), but he is a legendary figure worthy of our reverence.

And he sat there at Grant Park and cried like a baby.

See, that’s the thing about Jesse.  In recent years, he became more pragmatic in his approach.  He moved form stuff like PUSH and Breadbasket and moved the game to Wall Street.  He knew the deal — black folks had to get into the right networks to make things happen.  He made mistakes with those projects, but Jesse got it.

And I firmly believe Jesse gets it now.  Barack Obama got himself into those networks, played the game, and he won.  Maybe that’s a part of the Obama victory that isn’t that inclusive, but fuck it.  Obama beat the matrix.  I tip my hat, and I’ll do it on command if he asks me to.  That election, in every way, was a certified ass whoopin’.  Chris Rock said Obama couldn’t win by decision.  It had to be a knockout.

He knocked John McCain out.

I’m reluctant to praise the first black anything.  It’s a big deal, absolutely, but I’m leery of affirming the notion many have that the first black _____ is the first black person qualified to do a job.  That ain’t what it is.  That is a testament to the dedication of whoever that first ______ is, because he’s got stories that’ll make your toes curl.  It says nothing, however, about black people.

I guess that’s why I’ve never swelled with pride at the sight of Obama.  He showed a black man could do it.  I always thought a black man could do it.  He didn’t show me anything that I didn’t already know.

I am, and have been, floored by the man, though.  So impressive, so cool, so strong, so prepared.  I’ve never seen anyone like him before, and I may never see anything close to it again.  His persona is so powerful that he was clearly black — with a name that made blackness impossible to avoid — and still won this election.  It wasn’t that people overlooked his blackness.  It wasn’t that people felt good about voting for the black guy.  It’s that he could have been cross eyed — but not blind — like David Patterson and still won this election.  

Barack Obama is that bad of a motherfucker, and I will not take his singular credit away by going overboard about what this means about the progress of this country.  Barack Obama isn’t President-elect because America’s sooo much better than it used to be.  He’s President-elect because he could not, and should not, have been denied.  Don’t pat anyone on the back for that right there BUT Barack Obama.

(Never mind that the only explanation for how a Democrat wouldn’t win this year was racism.  Seriously, if the Democrats couldn’t win this one, they’d have to go away and never return.  This isn’t App State beating Michigan.)

But people can pat themselves on the back for what they did.  Not for voting Obama in, though.  It’s for the energy that surrounded this election, the heightened political awareness of those that have been disenfranchised, the way that so many people took agency, for the first time, in their political future.  Those that are rarely heard packed up and went to speak with ballots, and that was deafening.

Tuesday was probably the most American day in the history of this country.  See, the one thing I love about voting is that people don’t get to pick where they vote.  You gotta go where The Man says to.  That means that the self-selection that has me living in a neighborhood full of white people I never see at the gas station or grocery store wasn’t going on here.  It made voting lines the most diverse places in many places, people coming together because they had to.

And man, I saw every bit of America you could imagine.  Never again will I see that diverse a group of people, not separated by race or class or anything else, together for the same reason, all excited about what they were doing, even though they were really doing different things.

People care now.  Part of that had to do with Obama representing the inclusive vision of America that had been sold but never delivered.  Part of it is out of desperation, with the economy eight shades of jacked up.  But whatever it is, it is here.

So what now?  Down to keep it up?  You better be, or else Obama is gonna be just like the rest of em.  He got unequivocal black support without saying very much to us.  Time to make sure he knows those votes weren’t donations.  They came with an implicit agreement that he better keep up.  Otherwise, he could be a great President, but he’d just be another President.  You repay those that got you where you are.  Y’all better be sending him bills.

Obama won this election because he won nearly every black vote and 2/3 of the Latino vote.  That overcame what happens every year, white people voting for the GOP at about a 3:2 clip.  Yeah, there were a lot of white people down with the Obama program, but let’s not extrapolate too much from who 43% of the white population voted for in an election that should have been a landslide.  Things are certainly better than they were 40 years ago, but I’m not sure why that’s something to brag about.

Those that so often haven’t felt so American changed American history.  You may not feel pride reading that, but that doesn’t matter.  It’s what it was, and it was a power move like few other in the United States.  Just…damn, man.  Damn.

Today is a day to believe in America, even if you’ve never done so before.  But give all credit where it’s due.  Congratulate Barack Obama on his amazing campaign and his new office.  Congratulate yourself for whatever you did to aid the political process.

And so there’s no confusion, I’m not leaving white people out of this.  A lot of wonderful people, some of whom were quite courageous, came together to help Obama make this happen.  This was, if nothing else, a day that spoke to inclusion.

Should have been like that the whole way, and I can’t lose sight of that.  I’m not one for giving people credit for acting right.  At the same time, I know of people ashamed to tell their fellow white friends that they were voting for a black man.  In such a world, those that stated their affection for Obama loudly and proudly deserve credit.

It’s show-and-prove time for all of us.  So what now?