Jazz At It's Finest......Jose' James

Hey jazz lovers! Have you heard of this cat who I call Jose' "ScatDaddy" James? To me he is jazz meets neo-soul meets hip hop. He's jazz, soul, and blues. I was fortunate to stumble across this dude while watching a concert of one of my favorite underground artists, Eric Roberson on fabchannel.com. Jose' James released his debut on January 28th, 2008. Let me tell you. You have to check this cat out for real. I like jazz, but never really sought it out when I would look for or listen to music. I am a music lover and I love music period, but he really took my breath away in that little 15 second commercial that popped on. His voice is amazing. It's deep and silky. And man can he scat up a storm. The musical arrangements on this CD are sick. I have a Bose wave radio and you just have to shake your head when you hear his music. If you love jazz or just want to hear something new, then check out Jose' James.









http://www.josejamesmusic.com/




www.myspace.com/josejamesquartet




www.myspace.com/josejamesbsides




http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tp9klgox2Ys&feature=related
jazzy joint


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9I6JX74AOzU
park bench people

Where is Mr. Right??????????

Where is Mr Right? You know it took me a long time to put together my Mr. Right. Oh Honey he is 6' 4" tall. He is good looking with a beard and good hair. Y'all remember wanting a man with good hair so we could have babies with good hair. Please OK!! Cause some of y'all are still doing it today. Anyhoo, he has a degree and his own very successful business. He doesn't have any children and loves to spoil me like my Daddy does.
Well needless to say, but I haven't found him. To tell you the truth I gave up on him a long time ago. I've given it some thought though. Say you did find Mr Right? Who's to say that you will have a connection with him or even fall in love with him. The one's that have come close to my ideal I just didn't connect with. I mean there was no spark or passion. I didn't get butterflies or smile when I thought of him. After years of looking for him, I finally realized that he doesn't exist. I often wonder if that's why the divorce rate is so high. So, everyone marries the ideal mate, but is that enough to make a life long commitment.
My last relationship took me by surprise. He was nothing like Mr Right. He wasn't cute anywhere. He was dark-skinned with nappy hair and fell short of the 6' 4" by 2. He didn't have a degree or his own business. I loved him though. We were together for 10 years. We went through ups and downs like everyone else, but we worked through it. We definitely have a connection. We finished each other's sentences. We were both smart asses with very quick wits. So, it was never a dull moment. However, life happened and we had to go our separate ways. Now, I find myself single at 38.
It's been 3 years since I separated from my ex. I haven't been in a serious relationship since then. So, I find myself looking for "HIM" again. I don't call him Mr Right anymore. I have come to realize that he doesn't exist. I've found that out of all my past relationships it's the friendship I valued most and found to be very important. I am still friends with most of my ex's. We call and check on each other every now and then. I realized how important it is to have a connection.
I guess what I'm trying to tell y'all is that it's very rare that we find Mr Right. It's even more rare that we find him and fall in love with him. I'm not saying that you should just get with any man that comes along. By all means don't think that money equals happiness. Money makes things easier, but that's about it. Look for a connection and build a friendship. Love will come so much easier and it may last a lifetime. It's funny because I have to close male friends. I often wish I could find someone who is the combination of the both. One friend is like a brother to me. We share everything with each other. We hang out all the time and I'm close to his family. The other one is completely nuts. We have soooo much fun together. Getting in trouble and causing a scene has never been so much fun. I don't know. Although it seems like I might be alone for the rest of my life, I haven't given up. I don't want y'all to give up either. I also don't want y'all to settle. Wait for "HIM" he is out there. Trust me.

Painfully Glamorous: The Agony of De Feet

This is the very first thing I have ever had published. Well, it was posted on my schools website LOL!! Anyhoo, this is where it all started. It's a little dated, but it's soooo true.




from “The Diva Chronicles”
satire by Veronica Williams

Smooches all! I would like to introduce myself. I am Adeeva Speeks, Board Certified Divatologist, specializing in all things Diva. I would like to present an excerpt from the pages of "The Diva Chronicles". It’s Spring! The air is crisp and warm and the flowers are blooming. We are shedding those turtlenecks and wool pants for mini skirts and cute little tops that show off all the exercise we did all winter. As a Board Certified Divatologist, I felt the need to put out a spring time warning for those Divas in training. Please read carefully ladies. Trust me, I am certified and able to write prescriptions. They can be filled at any upscale mall near you. Remember, a pretty woman turns the heads of teenage guys. A beautiful woman turns the heads of men. A gorgeous woman turns the heads of other women. Beauty is definitely in the eyes of the beholder. However, you looking in the mirror before you go out, does not count. Please get a second opinion or contact your nearest Divatologist for some help. So, meet me at the mall ladies. You can find me in the shoe section of Neiman Marcus drooling over a pair of Gucci shoes. Smooches.

Painfully Glamorous: The Agony of De Feet
Being a Diva is hard work. Yeah, I may look fabulous, but believe me it wasn’t easy. Where does glamour end and torture begin? You won’t believe the things we do to ourselves to look this gorgeous. We snatch the hair from our faces, underarms and Ouch! our bikini lines. We put on undergarments that squeeze us to the point of needing oxygen to breathe. We buy dresses two sizes too small just because they’re on sale. Then we starve ourselves for weeks to wear that dress one time and bury it in the back of the closet. Cause a Diva wouldn’t be caught dead in the same dress twice. Hello! And the coup de grace, high heel shoes. How can something so beautiful, so expensive, and so able to make my legs look like they just stepped out of a fashion magazine, be so painful? After laying down $350 for a pair of high heel Gucci shoes, shouldn’t I be walking on clouds? You would think a designer shoe would be more comfortable. Yet the more money you spend, the more you can expect your feet to hurt. Unlike the previously mentioned methods of modern day torture, wearing high heel for a long period of time can cause painful and sometimes permanent damage to your feet, legs, and even your back.
Alexander Reyzelman D.P.M., chair of the department of podiatric medicine at California School of Podiatric Medicine says, "High heels tip the foot forward, placing too much pressure on your toes, arches, and the balls of the feet. This unnatural pose puts you at risk of toe deformities, nerve damage, even lower back problems” (Crain 158). So, you better think twice before you buy that shoe. If you are like me, then you will buy that shoe that’s a whole size smaller than your actual size, just because it looks perfect with your new outfit and don’t forget that it’s on sale and you have a coupon. Be careful Divas in training. Corns and bunions are not a part of this year’s spring fashion line up. I don’t care how fierce your outfit is with that open-toe sandal. That corn on your toe just turned that outfit into a burlap potato sack.
Who cares about pain? Who cares about calluses and bunions? I’ll throw a toe ring on that corn and get my tip on. Honey, the Christian Dior sandals with the stiletto heel are mine. At nearly $400 a pair you would think they would come with a year long pass to a local foot spa, because they sure don’t come with padding. Whoever designs these shoes couldn’t have worn them, and if they did, they didn’t walk through the mall with them on.
A true Diva must always be on her toes. So slide in and strap up ladies, cause flats are not where it’s at. If you want to be a Diva you’ve got to handle the pain. You must understand. A secret service agent will throw himself in front of the President to catch a bullet. A Kamikaze pilot crashed his plane into the enemy ship for his country and to die with honor. A Diva must Sashay Shante’ in that size 7 ½ Manolo Blahnik (even though she wears a 8 ½) even if it kills her. She’ll be drop dead gorgeous, and that’s all that matters in a Diva’s world.
Works Cited
Crain, Esther. "Party-Girl Pointer." Cosmopolitan Nov., 2003: 158 http://www.proquest.com/

THE THINGS YOUR MOTHER DIDN’T TELL YOU

THE THINGS YOUR MOTHER DIDN’T TELL YOU

(THANKS MOM)


From the mouth of the one and only
Adeeva Speeks






by Veronica T Williams


Dear Mommy,
First of all, NO, I’m not pregnant. NO, I’m not getting married, and NO I’m not crazy. Yes, I know they invented the phone, and yes I know we talk almost every other day. I just wanted to write you a letter. There are a few things I think you should come clean about. I thought we were close. You’re my Mother. There are certain things you have failed to tell me. Yes, you prepared me to take on the world, but you left a few things out. All I want to know is. Why? Why didn’t you tell me?
Where should I begin? How about I start at the top and work my way down. Can we talk a about this lovely hair that you have passed on to me? I’m not just talking about the hair on my head either. I will thank you for giving me some of that good hair like Grandma and them got. However, I will not thank you for the hair that is growing out of my chin. It’s coming in nicely by the way. My mustache is coming in nicely also. I should have a full grown goatee by the time I’m 65. Thank you for the genes. They must have come from the fountain of youth, because I have managed to maintain my girlish looks. I still look like I’m in my early 20's. Okay my late 20's. Alright, alright my early 30's, and that’s my final answer. Anyway, who’s counting? I am, and my fountain is starting to get a little dry. I’m spending a small fortune in facial creams. This is cutting into “The Gucci Shoe Fund” by the way. The last time I smiled it took 3 weeks to smooth out the lines around my mouth. There ain’t no way I’m doing that Botox thing. So, now I just walk around totally expressionless. Shoes before surgery, I refuse to go under the knife. Hopefully I will look half as good as you do now when I’m your age. You like how I slid that in don’t you? No, I don’t need any money either. Oh Mommy, I don’t think I can take it anymore. I’m not ready to be 36, but I don’t think I have much of a choice at this point. I’m pretty sure you’re getting a good giggle out of this. I’m just getting started.
Moving on down, let’s talk about my figure. What’s going on? I was tight. I was firm in all the right places. All my stuff was standing at attention. I had it going on. My body was like POW! Why didn’t you tell me it wouldn’t last forever? All I know is one day I was the hottest thing walking, and then it seems like one day I woke up and noticed my classic coke bottle shape was slowly turning into a 2 liter bottle. Mama I got stuff hanging out all over the place. I’ll have to take out a loan for the up keep and maintenance just trying to keep everything above sea level. I need lifting creams, some straps, a harness, something to help lift up my face, my breast, my tummy, and my behind. As soon as I turned 25, I noticed my behind slowly creeping down the back of my leg. My nice round booty use to sit up so nice. It was round and firm with a slight jiggle. You know, the kind of jiggle that would make the men ask if I wanted fries to go with my shake. I don’t get it. I look just like my Daddy. So, how did I end up with your square hips and flat behind? Speaking of flat, I use to have a beautiful flat stomach with an inny belly button. The sit-ups aren’t working. I didn’t have a baby. So, what’s happening? I guess I need to back away from the table and maybe I should have thought twice about getting fries to go with my shake. My beautiful hourglass figure has been reduced to a nice round pooch that has given birth to twin love handles, one set for each side. Please don’t let me forget my saddlebags. Actually I would like to forget my saddlebags, but they just keep hanging around. They’re making it hard for me to drop it likes it’s hot and get back up. Talking about hot, you just couldn’t give me that nice rack you got? No, I couldn’t get the double D’s. Oh no, I had to become a lifetime member of the IBTC (The Itty Bitty Titty Committee). Thanks Mom. It’s not too bad. I can wear those ultra low cut to the navel shirts, and not worry about the twins playing peek-a-boo, cause they ain’t going nowhere. I mean that’s what I heard. I would never wear something like that though. I’m a good girl, and I wear plenty of clothing when I go out. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Is that thunder and lightening I hear?
Before I work my way down to the good part, let’s talk about these men. I know you told me to watch out for these men, and I know that they don’t make them like Daddy anymore, but you could have given me a better warning. Most of the men I have come across have just about lost their minds. You said there are some sorry men out here and you weren’t never lying about that. Mama they find out you have your own place, a job, and no kids, and Honey they try they best to hang a shirt in your closet. Next thing you know, they coming over every night. Ain’t bought not ner’a piece of a grocery, and got
the nerve to roll up in here talking about what’s for dinner. They come over there and grab the remote and start flipping channels on my TV, talking about how my cable sucks, and how I should get the dish. Mind you, he ain’t offering to get it for me. He’s just making a suggestion. The next time you turn around he got his bag of dirty laundry sitting in your floor. He doesn’t have a washer and dryer at his Mama’s house, which is where he lives. So, he thought I wouldn’t mind washing some of his things. Don’t let the first of the month roll around. You can’t find his tail nowhere. When you do find him, you ask him to kick in on the bills and he conveniently forgets how he had his feet kicked up eating my food, watching my cable, and how he washed his raggedy draws in my washing machine. Oh, he gonna come over in some new kicks, but gives me some crap about how he is in a financial bind right now. Do you know that some have had the nerve to try and dip into “The Gucci Shoe Fund”? They must be crazy. So, don’t go picking out a mother of the bride outfit, cause I don’t see myself getting married anytime soon. It’s scary out here. It’s so much stuff going around. As if that isn’t enough to worry about, I don’t think that even you could have prepared me for these “DL Brothers.” So not only do I have watch him around my girlfriends and other women, but now I have to watch him around them and their boyfriends too. What’s really going on? Despite all these crazy, jobless, broke driving a Lexus, still living with they Mama, five baby Mama having, can’t decide if I’m straight or gay so I’ll have both, men out here, there is still that “ONE.” Mama you didn’t tell me about that “ONE.” There is always one that will get you open. Mama I came up on one that had my nose so open you could see what I was thinking. Mama I was gone. I was weak. There was one thing that got me that way. You didn’t tell me about that either, but we are gonna talk about it now.
Now, we are down to the good part. I don’t even know where to begin. I guess I’d better go back. I can remember it like it was yesterday. You sat me down for that mother to daughter chat and told me everything I needed to know about sex. “Keep your legs closed and don’t come up in here with no nappy-headed grandbabies.” Ah, those were words to live by, cause if I didn’t, I’m not to sure they would have been able to get all my teeth back in my mouth, especially when my teeth and myself would have been knocked into the middle of next week. However, you didn’t tell me that as soon as that man touched me in the right place, that my legs would part like the Red Sea. Forget about the butterflies. You should have told me about “The Tingle.” See “The Tingle” is what get’s you in trouble. You also didn’t tell me about “That Spot” and “The Reach.” See, you told me everything else, but you didn’t tell me that it felt good. You ain’t tell me about “That Spot.” See, not all the men know about “That Spot,” but the ones that do, how mercy. That’s how that “ONE” got me open. First, he made me tingle. Then he found “That Spot.” Mama I wasn’t ready. You should have prepared me. Honey, he hit “That Spot” and it sent me right into “The Reach.” It felt so good I was just a reaching. I don’t know what I was reaching for, but I was gonna get it whatever it was. He had me reaching for the sky. He had me reaching for the stars. He had me here in Maryland reaching for something off the shelf in somebody else’s house in California. Mama he put it on me. Oh, Daddy if you are reading this, this is just something I heard the girls at work talking about. I just put myself in it as a way to explain it to Mama. I want to wait till I get married. Is that thunder and lightening I hear? Don’t worry I’m being safe. I’m also holding on to the advice you gave me before I left home. This one is my personal favorite. “If you gonna give it up, don’t give it away. You ain’t got to be no “Ho,” but don’t have no man laying up under you that can’t do nothing for you.” That’s where I get my #1 house rule from. That rule is, the only people that see the sun rise in my apartment are the ones that pay rent. I don’t have to depend on no man, but I sure ain’t gonna be taking care of one. I don’t know though. If I run into another one that hits “That Spot,” he just might have me out there working some serious overtime. Somebody help me. “That Spot” ain’t no joke.
Mama I’m sure you have a lot more you need to tell me. I’m sure you will sit back and continue to let me discover them on my own. I’m sure you will get a good laugh out of it when I do. That’s alright. I guess you must have told me enough, because I think I’m doing pretty good. I’ve been on my own for 12 years. I’m not on drugs. I ain’t no baby mama. I ain’t shacked up with no man playing wife. I’m in school and I’m working hard and making my way. I learned all that watching you. There’s something I haven’t told you. You are the most beautiful woman in the world to me. I don’t know anybody else who can walk into a room like you do. You got the men cutting their eyes, and the women rolling them. I tell you. You Graham women are some of the most evil red women I know, but you are the strongest women I know. I am proud to be a part of that. I am proud to be a strong woman who isn’t scared to speak her mind. I’m glad to be a woman who can take care of herself. I am glad to be like you, square hips, flat butt, and all. Thanks for being my Mom. Now, if you will excuse me, I have some shopping to do. I have to put “The Gucci Shoe Fund” to use. I have to get my Grown & Sexy on. That’s what us 30 and over folks do. You think you can walk into a room? I learned from the best. They rolling their eyes now and I ain’t even got there yet.

Love ya Mommy,
Your Pretty Little Black Girl