It's A New Day

I haven't been able to get that song out of my head. It's A New Day, by will.i.am. It sums up nicely the sentiment the majority of the voting electorate and dare I say a whole lot more people globally, of President-Elect Obama. It's not just about the first African-American president of the USA, but just the relief, passion, vindication, of it all. In a word...freedom. Or a better word...liberation. I too went to bed election night, tired from the fight, but woke Wednesday feeling brand new.

Peace Out Uncle's Bernie and Issac

Geez, first Bernie, then Issac. I still can't believe it. While I'm not related to Bernie Mac (or Issac Hayes for that matter). Bernie considered America family. So there. :( I feel the loss of two greats. More Bernie, only because I'm more in tune with his work, and he came into his height in my generation.

Losing Bernie also brought back the loss of another similar comedian, Robin Harris, of Houseparty and Bebe's Kids fame. He also died too soon. These brothers were stomach-cramps funny. Their humor was both natural and distinct. Which may lend an explanation to their both having roles in the Houseparty movies of the early 90s.

I first got a taste of Bernie on Def Comedy Jam, years ago. I thought, wow, a brother as dark as myself on t.v., nah. He ain't gonna make it; but he's good. I'm glad I was wrong about the former, and right about the later.

Over the following years I found myself catching everything I could with Bernie in it. The last movie I saw him in was Ocean's Eleven (the remake of course), and he managed to play it straight. I was impressed. Especially with such a star-studded cast.

My introduction to Issac Hayes was back in the late 70s, when I discovered my father's vinyl copy of Shaft The Soundtrack, with that (almost) globally reconizable intro. It still gives me goosebumps, begin so raw and unadulterated. He remained part of my father's generation until...South Park, the animated series where he was the voice of "Chef".

Ironically, these two somewhat polar individuals star in a film called Soul Men (coming this November), starring Samuel L. Jackson who once played Shaft.

Peace out fellas, and our prayers to your families.

Dodo Ati Rice (Fried Plantain & Rice)

One of the beautiful things about being married to a caterer is that I get to be like of of those judges on the Food Network shows. Exacting their judgment with the aid of their discerning palette.

So I begin. Yesterday I had jollof-rice, dodo, and a sprinkling of shakee (tripe), stewed goat-meat, and stewed chicken. I decided, unprecedentedly, to wash this all down with a Dr. Pepper. I usually don't drink soda, but I've been ordered by the missus, to work on empting the fridge of excess baggage.

The jollof-rice was left over batch she cooked for a friend's birthday, a bit spicey, with a complexion resembling the red/orange rice dishes found in Latin American eateries. However, not as wet though.

The plantains used for the dodo were perfectly ripe. Not too early, not to late. This produced firm, but not hard dodo, that allows itself to cook long for thoroughness, without burning on the outside prematurely or soaking up too much oil.

A bit of pepper stew on top of the jollof-rice, although not needed for the rice, provided a little extra variation in consistency and taste. Plus, was a nice bonus to aid finishing off the dodo I didn't devour with the jollof-rice.

Black in America...So Now What?

So I spent some quality time with Soledad O'Brien and CNN for the first time in close to a year. I had anticipated CNN's "Black in America," because I had a feeling that the documentary would be done fairly well. I didn't know what would be done fairly well, but I knew it would be worth watching. Well, it was. However, it recited the problem very well but didn't have much in terms of solutions.

I thought it was more useful, to non-Americans (by culture, I mean). A friend of my wife was here from Nigeria and he found it very interesting. Although like me, he wished more time had been spent on talking about the solutions to the issues.

It reminded me of how far I had come in America as a Nigeria-American, personally, and especially professionally over the last two decades. Change has occurred, but not as much as the mainstream media may believe. I've yet to work in a department where a person of color was in charge. For all the talk of Barack Obama, the media can conveniently forget that his mother is white. That has got to count for something. Also, whenever I've seen a person of color in a position of power outside
Human Resources (what we used to call "Personnel"), they've been of a fairer complexion. I think only Eric Dyson spoke to this. Particularly its role "within" the Black American community. Well, other black non-American communities too, in my experience.

So solutions? Education, check. Personal responsibility, check. Role models worthy of emulation, check. Environment conducive to success, check? Getting out of our comfort zones, check.

Bike Week - Laconia 2008

Well, another Bike Week in Laconia, New Hampshire has come and gone. And yes, it rained, as it has every year, save one, in the fourteen years I've made the ride up from Massachusetts or back.

This year, it was just me and Big Bertha (he rides the Ninja ZX-11, left). My ride is the Hyosung GT650R (right). Never heard of it. Most bikers I've spoken too haven't either.

The plan was to have about six of us do a grand ride. But alas, we are all dads now so our time is not always ours and some gents had to decline our annual adventure at the last minute. It doesn't bother me one bit, as I'd rather have them be good dads to their kids, than good riding buddies, if I had to choose one. Really, I want both :)

Oddly enough, this was the first year since we've all been dads that our bike weekend didn't conflict with Fathers' Day, at all.

We left Medford, MA late Saturday, at about 9 p.m. and peeled up Route 93 North towards Concord, NH. I love riding at sunset, the breeze is just right, and the sky is a motley of red, orange, pink, yellow, and purple. Concord is about the halfway point to where we usually stay in NH and gives us the opportunity to enjoy some spirited riding before a late dinner.

Normally, after dinner we just head straight to Big Bertha's father-in-law's place to rest up for our day of chilling and riding in Laconia. However, Big Bertha suggested since we were closer to Laconia then we were to our beds, we should do a drive-by. We arrived at Weirs beach at midnight and the place was still awake, albeit subdued (subdued being a relative term). Now quite chilly, we checked out the latest and greatest in bike-ware as well as some good old machinery that, although past their day in the spotlight, still did that for which they were created.

Laconia P.D. were out in full force seeming to be as many as one for every ten people on the strip. By 12:30 a.m., Big Bertha and I had walked the length of Weirs Beach and back to the landmark, bulb-lit sign marking the beginning of the strip. We called our respective misses, and Mrs. Big Bertha commented that we were nowhere where a bed were we. We both grinned and promised to be at her father's place in thirty minutes. We did just that and then passed out.

The next day, it poured, all day. We never made it back to Laconia on Sunday.

A Leap From The Lion's Head

My favorite movie of the original Indiana Jones trilogy has to be The Last Crusade. In this final (or so we thought at the time) installment, Doctor Jones, has to obtain the Holy Grail, the cup of Christ, not only for his glory, but to save his father. One of his final tests, before he reaches the room where the Grail is kept, is a chasm separating him from the continuation of his journey. His clue to success is in "a leap from the lion's" head, which is where he happens to find himself standing.



I took such a leap myself last month when I resigned my job without the safety net of a new one. It was time for me to leave, that I knew. The only question was when. Conventional wisdom would have said, "when you find a job, fool". However, once I prayed and then asked God for his wisdom and guidance, His answer was an odd (to me) one. He suggested I resign on my birthday, as a gift to myself. I was suddenly gripped with fear. How was I going to tell my wife. Or better yet, what kind of riot act would she read me, for something that sounded so fool-hearty. God's response? Tell, her what you told me, and then tell her what I told you. Oooookay.

When I got home, I did just that. Then I told her to pray about it, and let me know what she heard from God. To my surprise, although she was concerned, she wasn't frantic. She prayed about it, and then the next day told me that whatever God had planned for us, that was what was going to happen, and if that was what I was hearing from God she would stand with me in faith. That was not what I expected.

A week later I grew more panicked as I had no job prospects that were magically appearing, as that is how I believe God would come through. Lesson: don't try to put God in a box. I then was listening to an audio sermon where God was described not as a boss, who rewards or punishes us based on how good we behave or perform, but more like a doctor who recognizes when we are sick and offers us prescriptions to heals us.

After listening to that sermon I realized that God was giving me a prescription because I was ailing in my current position. It was in my best interests, health-wise, to leave rather than stay, in spite of my fears. Still, I wasn't quite sure if God was really talking to me. Later that afternoon while taking in my daily dose of NPR's News and Notes, I picked up on a line one of the
panelists uttered during their discussion of whether Hillary Clinton should have conceded (at the time) that Barack Obama was the presumptive presidential nonimee or not. The panelist likened Hillary to a child standing in front of a blackboard with lines of chalk reading, "I need to quit. I need to quit. I need to quit." It couldn't have gotten any clearer than that for me.

So, on my birthday, I handed in my resignation. Immediately, a feeling of relief washed over me. I was free. Once my two weeks were up, I realized it was for real. With no job in sight, I was really counting on the Lord now. My time would be filled with my master's program and helping out my wife with her side business a bit more.

Then my boss suggested I help out on a part-time basis, until I got something more permanent, as they would appreciate my help. I accepted. I would work a third of the time that I used to.

Then my wife's contract ended earlier than we expected. Oh dear, we though. This was a curve ball to say the least. Our faith would now be put to the test. I could always go back, a voice came into my head. But, I beat it back. That would defeat the whole purpose of my faith in action. I would wait on the Lord.

As June rolled by, I found that we had all the income we needed, and then some. Then, last week. I was listening to messages and found a lost message from a recruiter. I called back and three interviews later, I accepted an office for the ideal job, with a pay nice increase as well.

While I'm happy about the job, I'm happier that the Lord showed His power once again, and that he healed that which ailed me through his prescription. I gave Him praise for reminding me that "faith is being sure of what we hope for, and certain of what we do not see" (Hebrews 11:1).

The Celtics Put The Green Back In The Garden

Oh yes, sweet seventeen! What can I say? It's nice, really nice. The last time the Celts got to raise a banner, I was in high school. And yes, the favorite rivalry was against the Lakers. Except it was Magic (Johnson) leading the way and not Kobe (Bryant). I couldn't bear to watch most of the 2008 Finals because the emotional rollercoaster was all too familiar to me.

Finally, I did succumb and watched most of Game 5, until my wife shut me off for "excessive oratory volume." Plus, I actually dove across the rug, mistaken in the belief that I was the Celtics sixth man (number 36?). They lost, I grumbled. However, fate would have it no other way than for the final game to be in Boston, in the Garden.

Oooooh it was electric, even watching from home the energy was contagious. Even my wife got into it.

In the end the Lakers had no chance. The Boston fans were the sixth man (number 17?) and it was just like the days of Bird, Parish, McHale, D.J., and Ainge, three-pointer city.

While I'm happy for Garnett and Allen, I'm most happy for Pierce and for those of us who remained in Boston waiting at least twice as long as he did. Thanks guys, for putting the green back in the Garden.