Thursday, December 22, 2005

Shock The Monkey

Wassup, Y'all!

It's been a while since old Tyrone has dipped into the local cinema to catch a flick - an oversite I plan to correct in the coming new year but I did get a chance to peep the new King Kong joint last weekend to see how it stacked up to that politically incorrect, stop motion 1933 original joint as well as that campy a$$ 1976 joint that starred (actually *introduced* so you *know* that was back in the day!) Jessica Lange. I'm here to report that I laughed, I cried and came away wondering how it is that after 72 years, King Kong can still make the island natives look like stereotypical caricatures...

Overall, I liked that joint y'all and I'm digging deep to give Peter Jackson's King Kong vision 3 Spinners. Most of those Spinners are dropped on the King himself - Mighty Kong - who demonstrated singlehandly how far special FX have come since herky jerky 1933 Kong. Amazing y'all and likely due to the fact that his expressions were motion captured from a real actor (Andy Serkis who provide the same service for that precioussss little Golum in the Lord of the Rings trilogy). Kong is the best thing in the movie and the fact that he shows up pretty much halfway through a three hour movie tells you where that other Spinner went.

This joint is long y'all and - unlike the previously mentioned Lord of the Rings movies and Saving Private Ryan - you do notice time passing. Our fair haired damsel in distress, Naomi Watts, puts her foot in her role as Ann Darrow, Kong's girl toy (y'all will remember me proppin' Naomi's work on The Ring flicks and she also brought it home in the back-in-the-day 21 Grams which I *finally* caught on DVD (3.5 Spinners!)). Jack Black is his same over the top self as Carl Denham, the opportunistic film director and Oscar winner Adrien Brody (who busted that slob on shorty Halle Berry at the awards show) is good but a little unconvincing as the story's sub-hero (he's Denham's screenwriter and everyone knows writers never get the girl! Y'all know Kong's the real hero).

But here are the actual factuals on this joint - it was good but could have been better and still clocked in at about 2 1/2 hours. In the writing world, conflict is good to hold an audience's attention. The rule of thumb is to make it BIG - put your hero/heroine in a desperate situation, then figure out how to make that situation even more desperate. Seems to me Jackson took that rule a bit too far, y'all. All the action scenes were drawn out well past the point of excitement. They started great and then just kept going and going and going and... Several of them stretched credibility pretty far (I know it's a movie about a giant ape but given that I still prefer action to stay within the bounds of reality, come on now!). Which brings us back to those island natives...

The controversy with the 1933 version of Kong was that the natives on Skull Island were portrayed as stereotypical jungle south siders courtesy of an unchecked north side view. Think early Tarzan vs. Shaka Zulu or Roots - The Saga of an American Family. Jackson's vision gives his Skull Island natives a hyperviolent, nasty Middle Earth vibe but unlike the hell spawned denizens from his Lord of the Rings flicks, you could tell the majority of the actors playing Jackson's natives were south siders. Seems to me on Skull Island they could have cast anybody for those roles but somehow we always seem to fall back on clowning south siders - hmmmm. In my opinion, you could have had the same movie by casting my girl Vanessa Williams as Ann Darrow and a bunch of grubby looking north siders (check out Rob Zombie's 'The Devil's Rejects' for examples, y'all) as the natives (kinda like 'The Others' in Lost) but I'm figuring that thought never crossed anyone's mind - except mine. That's why I'm here with you, y'all -- to keep my Urban Eye open and point out the obvious. I know, I know - you're welcome - no thanks necessary for my tireless work on your behalf. I got your back.



Friday, December 02, 2005

How To Be Just Plain Nasty...

Wassup, Y'all!

I'm sitting here munching on some of 'Tini Mack's left over Lime Chips and pondering the news he dropped at our last poker sitdown. As you've heard me say from time to time, it's always good to have a little time to bond with the fellas so you can expound on the actual factuals over some good food, drink and poker. There are always a few tasty details dropped and, in this case, 'Tini dropped one about my boss (I sometimes do freelance work outside the basement, y'all. A brother needs a few duckets in his pocket to keep moms from cutting off the heat and it's *cold* here in Chicago, people!). Anyway, 'Tini, ever the diplomat says, "Dude, if your boss ever tries to hand you a memo, don't take it". I ask why not and he says, "cuz I was in the bathroom earlier today and he rolled out of the stall without washing his hands!" Hence the title of this post y'all - that type of behavior is just straight nasty and sadly, according to the American Society of Microbiologists, all too common...

See nasty a$$ sh&t like that's the reason why Japanese folks avoid the whole ingrained American custom of the greeting handshake. A bow at five paces will save you that unexpected E. Coli infection your boss is set to pass on because he was too busy to wipe his a$$ then *wash* his nasty hands!! How is this possible when we're trained as biddy bop, crumbsnatchers to always wash up? Let's see what those Microbiologists have to say about this...

Hmmm, according to their September 27th New York Times report, though 91% of folks surveyed claimed they wash their hands after bathroom extracirriculars, observers found only 82% actually did so. What's up with that other nasty 9%? The survey polled about a 1,000 folks so we're talking roughly 90 nasty a$$es who willing rolled out the restroom without so much as a drop of water hitting their hands. I'm sure something else was hitting those hands, but clearly no water. Damn. Let's continue since it gets worse. 90% of women washed their hands vs. just 75% of men. Damn, fellas! And we wonder why women don't want us holding the remote!!

The survey folks had observers staked out at Turner Field in Atlanta, the Museum of Science and Industry and the Shedd Aquarium in Chicago, Grand Central Station and Penn Station in New Yawk City and the Ferry Terminal Farmer's Market in San Francisco. It's no surprise that only 74% of baseball fans in Atlanta washed up - since baseball's so damn nasty anyway with all that spitting and scratching going on during the game. Also no surprise that only 79% of New Yawk commuters washed up since we are talking about New Yawk. The *BIG* surprise was how hygenic the 'Frisco folks were clocking in at 88%. Why is that a surprise? You do the math, y'all... But the big ups go the Chicago crew at the Shedd Aquarium who doused their digits 89% of the time. I'm pretty sure Mayor Daley will figure out how to claim credit for that too.

Damn - with behavior like this, you know when the Asian Bird Flu busts out we're all going down. 'Cept me that is - I've got my little survival kit all stocked up here in the basement...Epsom Salt, iodine, face mask, mama's chicken soup and a year's supply of Maxim magazines as I'll probably have to cut the shortys short for the duration (unless they come equipped with a clean, same day health report). In the meantime, I'm off to take a long, hot shower, y'all before copping some latex gloves for my trip to work tomorrow...



Thursday, December 01, 2005

Miss Penitentary 2005!

Wassup, Y'all!

Man, y'all know there was NO way I could let this fly by without a comment! Am I the only brother on the planet who thinks that prison should be just that - PRISON!?? Clearly our homies in Brazil have a different way of thinking. Yeah, yeah I know we need to be eternally grateful for their everlasting contribution to fashionable swim/strip club wear by dropping the thong bikini on an unsuspecting world but a penitentary beauty pageant for shortys on lockdown? Man, how does a brother get tickets to that?...

First let me apologize for dropping that vintage glossy cuz that's not actually Miss Penitenary 2005 (aka drug smuggler Angelica Mazua) but her foine predecessor Fernanda Maria de Jesus - Miss Penitentary 2004 who mysteriously gained early release after her walk down the concrete runway. Coincidence? I think not, y'all.

Hmmmm...according to prison officials, the Sao Paulo prison pageant is designed to "boost inmates' self-confidence". I can see it now, y'all - you know this ruckus will be making its way north in no time and Lil Kim's gonna get her roll on (she's got the talent competition all locked up) and primp and rap her way to the title of Miss US Federal Lock Up 2006! Here's a thought - why not help young women boost their self-confidence by 1) encouraging them to stay the hell out of jail, 2) getting society to pass along the message that it's not all about the body but what's going on inside your head?

Ooooo - I can hear y'all now yapping, 'Dang Ty, that's like the pot calling the kettle black, homeboy. I don't think you met a scantily clad glossy you haven't boosted to post on this site. Dude - kinda hypocritical don't you think?' To which I would reply with my patented, 'Please - don't hate. Appreciate!' If the Brazilians can boost inmates' self-confidence by letting them participate in a beauty pageant (least they made them kick the one-piece swimsuit. If they had busted out in thongs during the swimsuit competition you know a riot would have broken out in that joint!!) the least old Tyrone can do is help our American shortys feel honored and respected so they can get a little self-confidence boost too.' I'm only doing my part, y'all.



Thursday, November 24, 2005

The Double Edged Shorty Sword...

Wassup, Y'all!

5-0 finally tracked my butt down and dragged me back to the basement. I've been kicking it out on the street a lot lately, hence my lackadaisical posting schedule but I appreciate y'all keeping an eye out for a brother and checking back in from time to time.

In the wake of the news of Debbie LaFave, the hottie middle school teacher who slept with one of her 14 year old students and walked with *no* jail time, old Tyrone feels compelled to dip into the touchy subject of the 'Shorty Double Standard'...

Now y'all know if the tables had been turned and it was a homeboy middle school teacher who had consensual sex with a 14 year old female student, old boy would be in federal prison right now doing a 20 year bid and tossing all kinds of salads . What's that about? Mainly it's about old school society giving an up top high five to a supposed mack daddy 14 year old who's got the mojo to pull a twenty-something hottie blonde school teacher. Sad but true. But wait there's more!

Remember a few weeks back when two Carolina Panther cheerleaders got caught getting busy in a restaurant bathroom stall ? Homeboys - what was your first thought? I'm sure it was similar to mine and went a little something like this, "Damn - wish I could have peeped that action! Why do I *always* have to be in the stall next to a big boy with digestive trouble??" Okay flip the script and ask the shortys what their first thought was? Probably something like, "Those are a couple of skanky ass heifers! That's nasty!" See? It all depends on your sexual persuasion, y'all.

Now if we really flipped the script and discuss that persistent rumor of Eddie Murphy being gay (despite the talk about him kicking with Mariah Carey in Miami during this year's MTV VMAs. Even that talk couldn't quite erase the memory of Eddie and the transvestite in the alley…). The attached glossy is courtesy of Got HipHop? which is pubbing a story about some potential shenanigans going on between Eddie Murphy and Johnny Gill (seems old boy had to keep up with Bobby Brown somehow, y'all - being his New Edition replacement and all!) since they're hanging out pretty tough and now apparently Johnny has moved into Eddie's guest house. Damn - isn't this the slippery slope that OJ went down with Kato Kalin's butt? Anyway just hearing a rumor like that will make the homeboys *and* the shortys cringe. What is it that makes girl/girl action palatable but boy/boy action something worthy of gouging your own eyes out? I sure don't know but I know I'm getting itchy just typing about it, y'all!

Before I jet, I wanted to let those homeboys out there who've been fiending for a Serena Williams fix know that Got HipHop? has a couple choice glossys of old girl that show what happens when you try to get *all that* into an outfit that's not built for *all that*. I'm pretty sure homegirl knew that ahead of time, but had to test the laws of physics anyway. Yet another well worn play from the Shorty Handbook that I *keep* falling for.

Gobble, Gobble, y'all! Happy Thanksgiving!!



Monday, November 14, 2005

Mr. Biggs Does it up Capone Style

Wassup, Y'all!

You know, there's a thin line between fact and fantasy. Nowhere is this more clearly illustrated than in Hollywood. You've got Russell Crowe playing a Roman Gladiator, Denzel Washington playing a corrupt LA police officer, Will Smith playing Muhammad Ali, Jamie Foxx playing Ray Charles, Halle Berry playing Cat Woman (Daaaaaaaamn!) blah, blah, blah, but I'm pretty damn sure none of those Hollywood luminaries ever took the next step - Russell jumping in an amphitheater full of live tigers, Denzel taking his saddity butt to East Los and mixing it up with the west side vatos, Will stepping in the ring with Evander Holyfield, Jamie playing the pian...okay skip that one, or Halle climbing the walls in an outfit featuring diamond-encrusted fingernails. That's because most folks have common sense and then there's our boy Ronald Isley aka Mr. Biggs...

Now for those of you without cable who consistently miss the video rotation on BET's 106 & Park, allow me a moment to drop some actual factuals on you and bring you up to speed. A while back, old skool Ronald Isley's butt figured out a way to ease his behind back into the mainstream by teaming up with R. Kelly and creating a video persona known as 'Mr. Biggs' - a fine dressing, no nonsense gangster/player who runs his crib with an iron fist and keeps his women on a tight lease. Think an older version of Deion Sanders but with better suits and a badder disposition. Now I'm all for being innovative and jumpstarting a career slipping down the downside, but if your goal is to sock away some loot to help you through the lean retirement years, a good approach is to 1) create a tripped out persona, 2) make your chedda *and* 3) pay your damn taxes! It seems Ronald forgot Rule #3 and pulled a patented Mr. Biggs move by trying to jack Old Uncle Sam. Dang Ronald - even old Tyrone knows Uncle Sam is the biggest gangster out there - he always gets his money.

Now it looks like Mr. Biggs might be headed for a nice little Alcatraz bid like old skool Al Capone and I saw it coming from way back, y'all. Ronald was a bit too into that Mr. Biggs role - kicking the rolly bling, puffin' those fat Cohibas and fiddling with those walnut size finger rings. Seems to me he caught one too many episodes of 'The Sopranos' or Harlem Nights. Now instead of telling his cheating girl to get out the crib before he 'catches a case', the only case he'll be catching is his own inside federal court. Ouch - that hurts. No, I take that back, y'all. What's really gonna hurt Mr. Biggs when sentencing rolls around is the fact that R. Kelly will be his only character witness...damn - now that *really* hurts...

P.S. Tap that link, y'all and get a peep at what Mr. Peabody is up to - more to the point check out the mini review of the new 'Boondocks' cartoon on the Cartoon Network's Adult Swim lineup (y'all know how much old Tyrone loves The Boondocks) - that joint is funny and in-your-face and Episode 2 did a take on a possible outcome of R. Kelly's upcoming child pornography trial - done up the way only Aaron McGruder can.



Friday, November 04, 2005

Swoopes pulls the reverse Down Low...

Wassup, Y'all!

Hold up. I *know* y'all didn't think this ruckus would go down without a Tyrone Malone commentary did you? Man, y'all know me better than that! After all the books and radio shows and Oprah commentary on *brothers* being on the down low - look what the cat dragged in. Just in case a few of you neophyte readers think the 'reverse down low' is a tight little basketball move, stop, drop and roll your a$$ on over to the bookstore and check out a joint called On The Down Low: The Journey into the lives of "straight" black men who sleep with men. Matter of fact, Amazon is so cool they'll let you peep inside to cover to check out a few actual factuals like the Table of Contents which lists sample chapter names like "Was My Marriage a Lie?" and "She Can't Compete with Him". Hmmm, let me step out and take a shower right quick........okay I'm back. Dude and Dudettes - a quick clue: if you're stepping out on your spouse to have sex with someone of the same (or opposite) sex, the chances are really good your marriage is a lie (Stedman - homeboy you taking notes??). Okay, okay, technically Sheryl's situation doesn't exactly fit the 'down low' category per se, but it's still buck wild enough to warrant a blog breakdown. Meet me after the jump and let's get busy, y'all...

To officially get your 'down low' card (so I'm told) you have to like having sex outside your committed relationship with someone of the same sex *but* also love having a relationship (sexual and otherwise) with the one you're with. Don't look to me to explain the thought process behind that thinking - you're on your own. But in Sheryl's case it seems like she always enjoyed the company of woman in shorts but hooked up with her ex-husband and used him as convenient cover and a sperm donor (Stedman - homeboy, you taking notes?) while she moved and grooved on those long WNBA road trips. I gotta give it to homegirl, she played it like Eddie Murphy in Beverly Hills Cop II and went deep, deep, deep undercover. Just check out this beach glossy, y'all. Uh, uh, uh! That's deep undercover right there. Primping with the fellas and getting the viewers all heated and all the while trying to figure out how to back Lisa Leslie down into the low post. I was debating the situation with my boyz 'Tini Mack and Cat Daddy and all they could contribute to the conversation was a trifling statement about knowing that Sheryl would be on top when carnal knowledge kicked off. I swear I lose brain cells every time I talk to those jokers.

Anyway, all this brings to "Pinky" the plastic flamingo. When this glossy was taken back in the day, everyone thought it was a cute little take off on that 'roaming gnome' gag where a couple of chuckleheads kidnap a ceramic gnome from someone's flowerbed and take it on a world tour, snapping glossys along the way with folks willing to pose. But see - old Tyrone's too smooth to fall for that ruckus. I knew the minute I saw this glossy of Sheryl cozying up to poor Pinky something was a little off - but I just couldn't put my finger on it. Finally, one day as I was walking past the 'Boutique' just inside the foyer of the Admiral Club Theater on Lawrence (I was a designated driver helping my one of my boyz make it home safe and sound...). I peeped the products inside and it dawned on me - that joint was pink, long necked and stiff - damn if Pinky wasn't the perfect plastic manifestation of Rebecca Lobo and Sheryl had her hands *all* over it, jack! Shoot, y'all may need a billboard, but not me.

Yo Stedman - homeboy you taking notes? Let me know if you need a pencil to connect your own dots, dude! When the next bombshell drops - don't say old Tyrone didn't try to warn you...



Wednesday, October 26, 2005

What's The Dilly With Downtown Julie Brown?

Wassup, Y'all!

Ahhh, the wily wench from Wales. Wubba, wubba, wubba, y'all! Man - what ever happened to my girl Downtown Julie Brown? I remember old girl kicking on MTV (back when homeys *really* wanted their MTV - now it's all about Julissa Bermudez on BET's 106 and Park). A couple times I felt that Spice Girl Mel B. aka Scary Spice was stealing old girl's flow but we all know that there's only *one* Downtown Julie Brown. Blessed by those exotic Jamaican/British looks (and y'all thought the only good blend out of Jamaica was either that monster Montego Bay ganja that could dredlock your 'fro overnight or a tight cup of Blue Mountain Coffee) DTJB was pretty much the *only* 'vee-jay' that this brother was feeling on MTV...

It seems our girl (after a run of blink to video movie appearances in such stellar cinematic fare as 'When', 'Shadow Hours' and 'The Homeboy' DTJB gave the nod to appearing in the reality show "I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here" - a joint topped off with a gaggle of B-list celebs and fringe famous personalities like Cris Judd (who won) and Melissa Rivers sans momma Joan (though old girl did guest star) and a red carpet. Quiet as it's kept, I didn't see that joint but I did hear that Cris Judd was opening up big time about his microwave marriage to badunka-dunk babe J-Lo. Now normally homeboys will want to shut up about the inner workings of their relationships lest they come off sounding like suckers to their boyz but it apparently worked for C-Judd as he had women swooning and clowning on about how 'sensitive' he was and how J-Lo made a wrong move by dumping his butt - blah, blah, blah.

It turns out DTJB did pretty well in the Survivor rip-off show - digging through a pit of snakes, sitting in a bath of leaches, you know standard stuff you see on shows like Fear Factor these days. I got to hand it to homegirl though - she doesn't come off as the tomboy type - I figured she would have bailed a minute or two after settling in the jungle and hearing the monkeys in the trees get their swerve on. Hopefully she'll turn up again soon. I can't get enough of that proper British accent - her fish and chips aren't bad either.

I'm out y'all!



Thursday, October 20, 2005

The Three Faces of Lil Kim...

Wassup, Y'all!

I know, I know. This post has been brewing for the longest and it was taking me so long to finish that I though Lil Kim might finish her bid before I finally got it out! Lucky for y'all she's still doing her time for her crime and I can help everyone step back and appreciate what it's like to go from Queen Bee to Jail Bird in style. You see, like Martha Stewart and Sam Waxel before her, Lil Kim decide to kick it at a 'Going Away' party before starting her bid at that cushy Philly Federal Detention Center. Here she go giving an opening shout out to her peeps as the festivities kick off. Folks are feeling good, the Cristal is flowing, Jacob the Jeweler is somewhere up in that piece dropping bling into shiny give-away bags filled for all the guests, and everybody is smiling and clapping and telling Lil Kim to 'stay strong, girl!'. You'll see that as the evening progresses, the realization that her little butt is headed to federal lockup (in Philly no less) begins to mess up her high. Read on y'all...

First of all, if you ask me - it seems to be far easier to start your bid straight out of the court house as soon as the sentence is handed down. This whole deal of getting four or five weeks to 'report' to prison seems like a recipe designed to have you rolling down the expressway in a white bronco with your boy, a passport and a bag full of cash!

Spike Lee did a tight job of portraying this process in his movie '25th Hour' starring Edward Norton. If you haven't seen it, check that joint out and think about how rough it would be to actually have to live that transition. Here, we see our girl Lil Kim mugging with Mary J. Blige who's stopped by to lend her support. Mary's probably giving her some sisterly advice about 'Once you get into lockup, don't be hugging up on anybody like this, girl. You hear me?'

Eventually, though the Cris bottles are empty, R. Kelly has found some little tenderoni to take back up to the suite and Jacob the Jeweler is going around handing out bills for bling the guests thought was free. It's around this time that it dawns on Lil Kim that the party is literally over. She's going to have to trade her little blue satin number for some faded prison blues that she wants to be really, really, really baggy. The alcohol inspired braggadocio fades away to boo-boo lips as she hops a ride from the spot toward a one year and one day future that will likely involve industrial strength playette hatin', cat calls at all hours ('Yo Queen Bee - why don't you rap about how I'm gonna tap dat a$$ tomorrow after dinner!') and steering clear of all long handled objects. The upside is her time inside will cement her street cred in the hip-hop world and knowing Lil Kim, she'll be crafty enough to work on her material on the inside so she can drop a quick album a few days after she gets sprung.

In the meantime, for all y'all busters thinking about lying in court or just being straight felonious, take a good look at that boo-boo lip glossy and picture yourself on your way to lock up. Better yet, rent '25th Hour' and live that ride in living color then ask yourself would I rather be drinking Cris on the outside or 'married' to Chris on the inside? Cola nut. Un-Cola nut. You decide...



Tuesday, October 11, 2005

Father Knows Best ?

Wassup, Y'all!

When I first caught this show in reruns back in the day, I was tripping that any show could get on the air with a title like that. These days, sitcoms and commercials alike make it a point to make dear old dad look like a straight doofus. Old boy can't fix anything properly, can't dress himself, can't get from Point A to Point B in a car without getting lost (and then refusing to ask for directions), can't grill without blowing up the neighborhood, can't be trusted with power tools, blah, blah, blah. My, how times have changed from those heartwarming 'Father Knows Best' days. Put that same show on today and it would be called 'Father Couldn't Find His A$$ with a Handheld GPS'. Sad but true, y'all. So that's why I'm happy to dip back into yesteryear and finish what I started a few days ago. Namely, dropping the rest of the qualities that made a 'Good Wife' back in the day (and maybe need to be revisited for a few in *this* day to restore balance to the male/female universe). So let's get busy...

Tips #6 & #7:

"Be happy to see him. Greet him with a warm smile and show sincerity in your desire to please him."

Hmmm, sounds simple enough but all too often a king returns to his castle only to find his queen jibber-jabbering about her *jacked up* day and why so-and-so ain't sh#t because he made her girlfriend mad by eating her last pint of ice cream. Homegirls! Chill! Chances are a smile and a nice glass of Hpnotiq at the door will generate a little bling-bling for you down the road!

Tip #8:

"Listen to him. You may have a dozen important things to tell him, but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first - remember, his topics of conversation are more important than yours."

Can't stress that enough, homegirls. His topics of conversation - sports, brew, cars, bathroom humor - are more important than yours...

Tip #9:

"Make the evening his. Never complain if he comes home late or goes out to dinner, or other places of entertainment without you. Instead, try to understand his world of strain and pressure and his very real need to be at home and relax."

I don't know how many times I tried to impress this point on my old girl. I was like "Baby - I *need* to go to the shake club because I'm under a lot of stress and pressure that can only be relieved by me seeing a lot of naked woman swinging on poles in a smokey, dim lit room". I refuse to believe that's why I'm a bachelor today, y'all.

Tips #10 & #11:

"Your goal: Try to make sure your home is a place of peace, order and tranquility where your husband can renew himself in body and spirit. Don't greet him with complaints and problems."

I'm sensing a common theme here, y'all. It all boils down to 'No recreational jibber-jabbering when your man gets home to his crib'

Tip #11:

"Don't complain if he's late home for dinner or even if he stays out all night. Count this as minor compared to what he might have gone through that day."

See my shake club comment above

Tips #12, #13 & 14:

"Make him comfortable. Have him lean back in a comfortable chair or have him lie down in the bedroom. Have a cool or warm drink ready for him. Arrange his pillow or offer to take off his shoes. Speak in a low, soothing and pleasant voice."

Ahhh, wonder when we'd finally hit the bedroom, y'all. And note - they're already way ahead of me with some chilled Hpnotiq at the door. Great minds thinking alike... Also note - no screeching jibber-jabber at the door, homegirls - low, soothing and pleasant voice only. Think less Fran Dresher/Rosie Perez and more Vanessa Williams/Lela Rochon.

Tip #15:

"Don't ask him questions about his actions or question his judgment or integrity. Remember, he is the master of the house and as such will always exercise his will with fairness and truthfulness. You have no right to question him."

Man, guys back in the day must have been at a bar or in the shake club *every* night with rules like these, jack! Wow fellas we devolved from 'master of the house' to 'doofus of the house' in only fifty short years...

Tip #16:

"A good wife always knows her place."

This one deserves a place in the Hall of Fame of Classic Sayings. Of course, if said in mixed company these days, you might end up missing a few chicklets from your grill cuz shortys don't play that in 2005!

And there you have it homeboys - a nostalgic glimpse of a time well past. I expect in a few more years these tips will get flipped and be standard tenets for 'The Good Husband'. If sitcom husbands are any indication of things to come, that time might already be here... In the meantime, I'm audi, y'all - I got to hurry home to draw my baby's bath and get that fire going!!



Thursday, October 06, 2005

Hey - where'd the Stepford Wives go??

Wassup, Y'all!

1955. That was a noteworthy year, y'all. Don't believe me? Well let me drop a few actual factuals on you and you can make up your own minds. The very first Mickey D's opened right up this way in Des Plains, Illinois. Disneyland opened out in Cali. Arsenio Hall was born and could be heard in the delivery room talkin' 'bout - "Let's Get Busy!" Your Pops came home and asked your moms to make him a drink and she actually did it.

Whoa - wait a second - what was that? That's right y'all, there was a time waaaaaay back in the day when shortys actually catered to their men. Yup - where do you think Destiny's Child got the material for their hit single 'Cater to U'? You know they cribbed those lyrics, y'all. I have it on good authority that Beyonce got her hands on an article in the May 13, 1955 Housekeeping Monthly Magazine titled "The Good Wife's Guide" and a day later had the girls in the studio. Fortunately for y'all, I happen to come across said article thanks to my girl Sexy Northside Shorty and I'm still trying to jack my jaw up off the floor. Join me after the jump for an unbelievable trip down memory lane...

Truth be told y'all there's so much material this will have to be a serial posting which unfolds over a few posts cuz I'm not *about* to leave anything out. It's just too juicy. So homeboys, go grab that special shorty and have her join you at the monitor and tell her 'How To Be A Good Wife' class is in session, jack!

Tip #1:

"Have dinner ready. Plan ahead, even the night before, to have a delicious meal ready, on time for his return. This is a way of letting him know that you have been thinking about him and are concerned about his needs. Most men are hungry when they come home and the prospect of a good meal (especially his favourite dish) is part of the warm welcome needed."

That's what I'm talking about, y'all - the warm welcome needed when I fall back through the crib! Southside shortys, please note the phrase "on time" - 1955 shortys didn't use CP time as a cover for why dinner wasn't hot and fresh out the oven, neither should you!!

Tip #2:

"Prepare yourself. Take 15 minutes to rest so you'll be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your make-up, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh-looking. He has just been with a lot of work-weary people."

Hear that? No pink velour sweats when your man gets home! Be fresh looking - not fresh mouthed. And drop a couple Washingtons for some ribbons down at the dollar store - it won't kill you!

Tip #3:

"Be a little gay and a little more interesting for him. His boring day may need a lift and one of your duties is to provide it."

See? Y'all got duties! Be interesting - no one wants to hear about your mama or your girl's latest issues. Your man wants to hear the sports scores and what outfit you just picked up from Victoria's Secret.

Tip #4:

"Clear away the clutter. Make one last trip through the main part of the house just before your husband arrives."

You'd be surprised what's still around before you make that last trip, homegirls. Be thorough - sweep up those raggedy Press-on Nails and that hair weave tumbleweed blowing across the carpet.

Tip #5:

"Over the cooler months of the year you should prepare and light a fire for him to unwind by. Your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest and order, and it will give you a lift too. After all, catering for his comfort will provide you with immense personal satisfaction."

Look y'all. There's just no excuse not to have a fire roaring and a tight snifter of brandy or yak (see I prefer a nice chilled glass of Hpnotiq myself...) waiting on your man over the cooler months. See, I like this one cuz y'all also get a lift from catering to your man - it's two for one, homegirls and y'all know how much you like those bargains.

Okay, I think that's enough to absorb for one night. Shortys - let those tips marinate with you for a few before you roll by the crib and try to firebomb my mama's house. I won't be there anyway - you know I got to lay low after dropping tips like these in 2005. Anyway, I ain't scared cuz I'm flexin' with my 50 Cent G-Unit Kevlar, baby, so go sell Thelma and Louise someplace else cuz old Tyrone ain't buying tonight.

Meet me back here in a few for the "Good Wife's Guide" Part II - it almost like R. Kelly's 'Trapped in the Closet" series, y'all!



Sunday, October 02, 2005

The Thin Line Between Hottie & Hoochie

Wassup, Y'all!

You know, there's a reason why everybody needs a good friend, y'all. Good friends aren't scared to tell you your breath is kicking, that the four hours you spent on the dance floor left you smelling funky and for you shortys out there - that the outfit you pulled out of the closet to kick at the Emmys makes you look like a straight hoochie. Clearly our girl Tess Smith has no good friends as she boldly stepped on the Emmy red carpet in an outfit that can best be described as early American Hoochie. Tess - homegirl - come on now! So it should come as no surprise that old Tyrone feels compelled to step in and provide a quick PSA (Public Service Announcement) on award show, red carpet protocol and how *not* to cross the thin line between hottie (check me out after the jump, y'all) and HOOCHIE...

Now I'm all for those hot little outfits at the award shows that will get a homeboy's blood pumping. Those sexy little joints with the mile high slits up the side, those low cut numbers and those creative fashions with the backs that plunge down so far the actresses are about a millimeter away from busting out the plumber's crack. That's all good and all will land you firmly on the hottie side of the ledger. But when you need to hit your local detail shop for a Brazilian Wax that's more precise than any smart bomb ever created for the Defense Department, well homegirl, you've just crossed over to The Hoochie Zone. See the difference between bite-size shorty Eva Longoria at the MTV VMAs (hottie) and Tess 'The Girl From Ipenema' Smith? No? Well let's continue.

Now everybody remembers J-Lo during her pre Ben Affleck/Marc Anthony days when she was kicking it with Puff Daddy, P. Diddy, Diddy - y'all remember when she kicked that green wispy joint at the Grammys and folks learned the real purpose of double-sided tape? Now many of you out there will be going, 'oh yeah Tyrone - that outfit was hoochie-fied' but see I disagree. You see, having a little junk in your trunk gives you a little leeway on your fashion choices, so if say, Beyonce or Vida Guerra showed up primping in that joint, the only way you could lean was toward the hottie side. Keep up, y'all.

The flip side of that coin is everybody's favorite Queen Bee Jail Bird - Lil Kim (who happens to have a nice little cut on her hands with 'Put Ya Lighters Up' (tight hook, tight beat, rap needs a little somethin', somethin' tho...) so at least old girl can start her one year and one day perjury bid on a high note...). Now Lil Kim set the gold standard for hoochie haute couture when she stepped on the red carpet back in the day with the 'one in, one out' look popularized by the professional crackhead hoochies on the stroll on lower Wacker Drive. To this day I still don't know what old girl was thinking ('cept maybe - 'gee I might have a chance to make Tyrone Malone's Top Ten All-Time Hoochies list if I wear this one'). Y'all know this one's not hard to call. Granted it's easy on the eyes, but not hard to call.

So in the future, y'all when you're checking out the red carpet fashions, my advice: Keep It Simple. Forget about all that 'ohh she's wearing Vera Wang', 'ohh, she's wearing Donna Karan'. Just boil it down like old Ty into two simple categories - Hottie or Hoochie and see if you don't enjoy the proceedings that much more...



Tuesday, September 27, 2005

Seventh Time's The Charm...

Wassup, Y'all!

"Who said this water is toxic?"

After all the heat that the president's been taking for the federal government's extremely lackluster showing during the Hurricane Katrina aftermath, I'm pleased to report that GW's been taking the criticism to heart and has ventured down to the affected regions for the seventh time since Katrina dropped a world-class whipping on the Gulf Coast. Unfortunately, it comes as no surprise for a man who's spent nearly 20% of his presidency on vacation that he managed to kill two birds with one stone. *sigh* That's just wrong in so many ways, y'all. What ever happened to compassionate conservatism? On the other hand, that is a really nice fish old man Bush reeled in...



Monday, September 26, 2005

Not Everybody Hates Chris...

Wassup, Y'all!

The numbers for Chris Rock's new UPN sitcom look tight. During that timeslot, Everybody Hates Chris did more business than Joey over on NBC! When have you *ever* seen trailer park UPN outdraw high society NBC? Anybody? I had the opportunity to check out the premier episode with a sexy north side shorty over the weekend and I'm here to tell y'all (just like I did when I previewed the success of the show a few weeks back) the show in general and Tyler James Williams (who plays young Chris Rock) in particular are hitting and holding...

I had to crack up when they played the song Ebony and Ivory during a slo-mo scene of Chris getting a beat down by a north side bully at his school. So far, so good, y'all. Everybody Hates Chris retains a slot in the TiVo Season Pass list. Y'all know I'm tight with those slots so I must be feeling it.

I also introduced shorty north side to that tripped out show on Showtime called Weeds. That joint is about a suburban housewife - Mary Louise Parker in the attached glossy - who loses her husband and begins selling weed / endo / chronic / cheeby / reefer / mary jane / cannibis in her rich, north side subdivision. She slides down to the hood every so often to get a new supply from her south side dealers and its the interaction between these folks and how old girl tries to maintain her normal life despite being a dealer herself that make this joint so funny. If y'all like homeboy Malco Romany (3rd from the left in the final glossy) in the 40-year Old Virgin (if you haven't peeped that flick by now, y'all are missing a treat - that joint is *tripped* out), you'll really like him in Weeds as he plays the son of the matriach pot supplier (who spends her time cooking southern cuisine in the midst of distributing nickle and dime bags and swooping the cash. Malco seems to have a little love jones going on for Mary Louise and old Tyrone has to admit - there's something a bit appealing about old girl...can't put my finger on it though. I caught her doing her thing in NYC earlier this year in a play called Reckless and she's got that wide-eyed, quirky thing down to a science.

Anyway, if y'all are looking to get your laugh on, you can't go wrong with either of these shows but since my boy 'Tini Mack *still* doesn't have cable at the crib, I have to go with Everybody Loves Chris since that show is available to the masses and knocks it out in a quick and tasty thirty minutes.



Monday, September 19, 2005

Ready to get my Roll on...

Wassup, Y'all!

Fortunately, this roll ain't got nothing to do with Daunte Culpepper and those bogus Minnesota Vikings! What's up with those boyz? I'm losing money on them every week! No - as you can see from the premium glossy of Megan Goode, the roll I'm jibber-jabbering about is the retro 70's skating rink joint Roll Bounce due out this Friday...

Lately with Chris Rock's upcoming UPN series Everybody Hates Chris and now this joint, I'm blissfully awash in old school 70's jams. Roll Bounce takes it's name from the Imajin cut Bounce, Rock, Skate, Roll and as soon as I saw the trailer featuring the wide roller rink with the tight disco lighting system and outline, four wheel skates with the toe brakes I was like awwwwww yeah - just like back in the day when biddy bop Tyrone was getting his roll on with the little shortys. Never saw any shortys that looked like Megan Goode at my spot though...

Roll Bounce looks like that hip hop dance flick You Got Served on skates and features young buck Bow Wow, Megan, Chi McBride, Mike Epps and Charley Murphy to name a few. I also caught young shorty Jurnee Smollett in the trailer. I liked old girl in Wanda Sykes blink-to-DVD sitcom Wanda At Large. Coincidently, both Jurnee and Megan starred (along with Lynn Whitfield) in that small (but good) flick Eve's Bayou.
Man - what ever happened to that whole Smollett clan? Running all around looking like the black Osmonds? Guess they'll have to find their way to a 'What's the Dilly With' post sometime soon. Anyway, y'all know I've been weak with picking flicks this season, so I have to be due right about now, but if this joint is anything like Bow Wow's last outing in Johnson Family Vacation old Tyrone may have to duck out early Megan Goode or no Megan Goode (who also hasn't be a harbinger of a good flick *since* Eve's Bayou either...). We'll see...



Thursday, September 15, 2005

What's the Dilly With Treach?

Wassup, Y'all!

Sorry about the spotty posting - all the sudden my phone's been blowing up with invitations so I decided to swoop one and head down to a blues club last night to catch a hot act from a young cat called Pistol Pete. Old boy was off the hook, y'all. His web site mentions Jimi Hendrix as one of his guitar influences and he rocked his joint just like Mr. Purple Haze for a tight 90 minute set. Annnnnnyway, after that heartwarming transformation outing of D'Angelo a few weeks back, I thought it might be a good idea to kick a set of regular posts checking out the happenings of folks who've sunk back into obscurity after their fifteen minute shelf life expired. So from time to time I'm going to kick a What's the Dilly With? post to help y'all get those warm feelings back again. Today we profile the original uptown vandal who's scandal we can't handle - Treach...

Somehow, Treach found his way to the side of fine Kerry Washington at a premier of Spike Lee's blink-to-video joint She Hate Me. A quick look through IMDB reveals that our boy Ant'ny Criss has been making a killing off of just being his thug self. For me, homeboy will always be Philky - the cold blooded dealer from Showtime's retired Soul Food who was cold enough to bump off a little junvenile thug-in-training who tried to lighten some of his weight. On the big screen, Treach has starred in such Oscar hopefuls as 3 AM (as Bass), Empire (as Chedda), Conviction (as Tank), Playas Ball (as Ricardo) and Today You Die (as Ice Cool). I don't plan on mentioning his turn as Tyrone (oh *hell* naw) back in the day in First Time Felon or his dip to the west side in the horror movie El Chupacabra (what??).

Seems like just yesterday that our boy Treach and Pepa were recreating that ghetto wedding from The Fresh Prince of Bel Air when Will's boy Jazz bopped down the aisle with his bride to song Float On by the Floaters. Ahhhh, Float On - remember that joint, y'all? Aquarius....Libra....Leo...Cancer...Ralph...Charles...Paul...Larry. Aquarius and my name is Ralph. Now I like a woman who loves her freedom... Can't hear lyrics like that anymore. Now it's all Shake that booty, shake that booty, shake that booty, girl. Not a zodiac sign shoutout anywhere in sight.... Hmmm, kinda like Treach's a$$ seen above in a custom Huster Phi Hustler sweatshirt from Hustlers University. I'd say more like Broke Phi Broke (we ain't got IT) from Kanye West's Late Registration CD if he keeps picking those choice movie roles, y'all.



Monday, September 12, 2005

Lynn's headed to the family reunion...

Wassup, Y'all!

If you're a good actor, you tend to get defined by your signature roles. For heart-shaped face hottie Lynn Whitfield - she got defined by two. One where she put her foot all into the role of the internationally renowned singer/dance Josephine Baker. The other was where she put her foot all up Martin Lawrence's a$$ in A Thin Line Between Love and Hate. Even though that joint was a comedy - Lynn's off the deep end character gave me more willies than Glenn Close's bunny boiling turn in Fatal Attraction. Yeah - I know Lynn has kicked it in a ton of stuff since, but I can't shake off those two images.

LW is about to pop back up on the silver screen next February when Tyler Perry debuts the next installment of his Grandma-ma series - Madea's Family Reunion. That's right, y'all. Not only do we get to sample another serving of crazy a$$ Madea, who stole the show in Diary of A Mad Black Woman (which remains in eternal repeat in Pheeb's DVD player...), we get a sweet shorty side dish of tight Lynn Whitfield to set the party off right...

A quick peek over at reveals a serious casting line up for Family Reunion. Such south side notables as Boris Kodjoe, Blair Underwood and Henry Simmons star (I can hear y'all shortys out there swooning) as well as Tyler Perry himself reprising his trifecta of characters - Madea, Uncle Joe and Brian. The shorty side is held down by Lynn, Tangi Miller and Jennifer Lewis - wouldn't be a south side flick without Jennifer, y'all. That's like having a catfish fry without the catfish! Hopefully the joint is good. I was struck by the even division among the south side nation to Diary. I was middle of the road on it, myself. It had it's moments but it kind of seemed more like a home video rather than a commercial movie but that's just me being bourgoise, y'all. Truthfully the split seemed to fall between the suburban and urban camps. Regardless of your thoughts on the movie as a whole, I have to admit that Madea was funny - "go on and call the po-po, ho".

That said, maybe some of you more astute readers can solve this mystery for me. If you peep that glossy of Perry dressed as Madea, that character looks almost *exactly* the same and the Grandma-ma character that Larry Johnson dropped courtesy of Converse back in the day. If I'm not mistaken, LJ's Grandma-ma showed up in the early 90's. So did Tyler Perry cop the concept or was Madea already cooking? If anyone knows - holler back and drop some knowledge on a brother! Truth be told - both those characters crack me up and make me thankful that I never ran into either one at a dimly lit house party....



Saturday, September 10, 2005

What NOT to joke about: Exhibit A

Wassup, Y'all!

The lead glossy already sets the tone for a post I never thought I'd have to write (because I was giving some folks too much credit for having common sense...). I was over at Cinematical today and stumbled across a blurb about Jamie Foxx going off on the set of Michael Mann's upcoming movie Miami Vice. So I'm like, let me peep this joint to see what Jamie's got to complain about - probably some J-Lo diva-ness going on where he only wants green M&Ms in his trailer piled high in the cups of a Victoria's Secret Ipex bra held by a topless Brazilian supermodel or something like that. Turns out it's nothing like that and that he was rightfully going off on a couple idiot stage hands who thought it would be humorous to approach his set double David Brown with a noose. If you're still clueless on why south siders find this sh*t serious as a heart attack, meet me after the jump to get an education...

Regular readers of my blog know I'm all for a good laugh and my humor can be a bit biting at times, but I do have common sense y'all and you won't ever find a column that seeks to find humor in things that are blatantly racist. I appreciate the diversity of the blogosphere and I've learned alot from the thoughtful, serious, humorous, and heartfelt postings I've read. For some of the more uneducated that think that in 2005 enough time has passed that you now feel comfortable stepping to a south sider dressed in black face or calling him a ni**ger (despite what the hell you see and hear on hip-hop videos or on Chappelle's Show) or pulling out a noose as a party prop or a weak a$$ joke - my advice is this: Don't...ever, unless the result you seek is a world class (and justified) beat down. Propping a noose is particularly foul and before you think to do it you'd be wise to spend a few hours at your local bookstore or library absorbing a book called Without Sanctuary: Lynching Photography in America. After you learn about how north side lynchings of south siders (in many cases accompanied by perpetrators setting them on fire while they were dying) was pretty much considered a 'Saturday Social' - entertainment fit for the whole family (children included), you'll see why south siders have no patience or humor for that bullsh$t.

I guess we can be happy that on the Miami Vice set, the gats are all loaded with blanks as I'm pretty sure both Jamie and David would have been ventilating some northside a$$ busting a few caps after that bogus encounter...

Okay, now let me massage my earlobes and drop a few Woooo Saahhh before I catch a case, y'all.



Thursday, September 08, 2005

Comfort Flicks - I feel the need...

Wassup, Y'all!

I can say with almost 100% confidence that homeboy Malone Zone readers will instantly recognize this lead glossy. It is, of course, the lead in scene to the first hop taken by the hot shot pilots of the Miramar Fighter Weapons School, better known as the aerial combat school and cinematic masterpiece Top Gun. Now as far as I know, when male babies are born, they leave the hospital with three things: their tanks topped off with testosterone, an inability to hold a conversation with a shorty for more than two consecutive minutes and a copy of the Top Gun DVD. When times get hard or a homeboy needs a pick me up from getting dogged by his girl at work, there's no better comfort flick than watching Maverick and Goose get their 'need for speed' on. It's like Lays Potato chips for the eyes, y'all. You can't watch it just once...

Now shortys have their favorites too, but most of their joints have to do with a wayward homeboy getting his in the end (Diary of a Mad Black Woman, Waiting to Exhale) or of finding improbable love (How Stella Got Her Groove Back, Pretty Woman, Sleepless in Seattle (which featured that other shorty flick An Affair To Remember...)) - y'all know how they do. But homeboys avoid the emotions and dig the hardware and there's none more impressive than a F-4 Tomcat with the afterburners kicked in. Sure there are a few other flicks waiting on the bench for their shot in the DVD player like Heat, Scarface, Face/Off and the like - and all are good to exercise that surround sound gear, but nothing is like dropping in Top Gun and listening to Maverick coax his missile lock to 'Lock up, baby. Lock up' during a dogfight. That's good eatin', y'all. Gooood eatin'.

However, I do have to give a passing nod to another sleeper flick that connected with me years ago when I first started working my tech job (now y'all know why I'm in the basement...). I fell through a friends crib and checked out the video of a movie called Into the Night - a quirky flick starring Jeff Goldblum and Michelle Pfeiffer. It connected with me because Jeff was a LA engineer who was having trouble sleeping at night, but whenever he got to work he would nod right out. He was getting burned out by his dry a$$ tech job - car pooling, dull technical meeting - the whole nine - and I am like Damn Jeff - I feeling you, homeboy! So one sleepless night, Jeff decided to just drive out to LAX and watch the planes take off and ends up sitting in a parking garage wondering what he's doing with his life. Then out of nowhere Michelle Pfeiffer crashes down on the hood of his car screaming because she's being chased by a crew who wants to kill her (watch the movie to find out why, y'all). She jumps in the car with Jeff and just like that they're off on a night of car chases, shoot outs and straight thuggery - in other words Jeff finally falls into some excitement. Just like with Top Gun where a brother daydreams of blasting off a carrier deck strapped inside a F4, there's that other daydream of having a hot shorty just fall out of the sky and take you on a wild adventure (preferably one that doesn't end at the bottom of a canyon like Thelma and Louise or at the end of a hail of bullets like Bonnie and Clyde...). Every now and then, it's worth getting off your normal beaten movie path and checking out flicks you normally wouldn't. It doesn't have to be a blockbuster to connect with you. Normally it's the smaller flicks that more closely mirror every day reality. They may not help your surround sound system crack your drywall, but they will leave you with a little something something. Into the Night dropped in '85 y'all and I'm still typing about it so don't act like y'all don't have a few of your own closet comfort flicks stashed away for a rainy day too....

(Quick Hit: If you want to get your laugh on check out this glossy over on The Dark Stuff - Howard keeps bringing it...)



Tuesday, September 06, 2005

Serena getting ready to Flirt!

Wassup, Y'all!

Faithful readers will remember a few posts back when I dropped my worldly opinion on the Venus and Serena reality show - Venus & Serena: For Real and mentioned that it wasn't hard to see why it was that Venus' game was getting back on track while Serena's was regressing. Remember when I said old girl had too many off court distractions - her fashion design firm Aneres, her TV gigs, modeling gigs, her weedy looking, Hollywood director boyfriend Brett Ratner (and weedy looking is a compliment for old boy...), yada, yada, yada. All forces which conspired to cut into her practice time and open the door for her knee and ankle injuries (and lackidasical rehabbing). Watching her pout, shout and bounce her racket on the court while older sister Venus was bringing the heat in the U.S. Open only reinforced that view for me, y'all. So it comes as no surprise to learn that instead of going behind closed doors to do some Rocky Balboa style training to get the #1 ranking back (which somehow Maria Sharapova can get to *while* she's morphing into the latest 'It' girl model) our girl Serena has signed on with Estee Lauder to be "the 2006 guest creator for its Flirt! cosmetics line". Serena! Homegirl - how about trying to flirt with the #1 ranking?...

Now I was happy to hear Serena say during the show that she needed to "cut him loose" - referring to weedy Ratner and his habit of popping into town for a few hours for a booty call to hang with Serena then zooming back out of town to 'take care of some business'. Brett we know that Hollywood casting couch never gets cold, homeboy (even for weedy looking dudes like you). Anyway - I'm like Go 'head, homegirl - that's one less distraction in the way! Then BAM, next thing you know Serena's in New York talking to an accessory company about getting some gear to compliment her fashion line. I didn't see the first ball machine, tennis court or racket while old girl was 'taking her meeting'. Now I can't say I blame old girl for trying to get some of hers, but I also hear her continue to complain about how she's not used to being so lowly ranked as she tries to have her cake and eat it too.

Meanwhile back at the ranch, Venus is handling her bidness, y'all - running, doing dexterity drills, working on her game, winning Wimbledon - y'all get the picture. True Serena's got the badunkadunk (actually in Serena's case badunkadunk seems so inadequate a word...) in the family but Venus seems to have the savvy, drive and determination to be sucessful on the court. She seems to have the proper perspective - that tennis is the engine that runs the rest of the ambition train. So in the meantime, Serena can do all the pouting and racket bouncing she wants to - if she wants to get back to the top of the game, she's know what to do and it ain't got a damn thing to do with flirting, y'all.



Sunday, September 04, 2005

To Live And Die In LA

I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the devastation along the Gulf Coast, particularly the pictures still streaming out of New Orleans. If there was ever a glossy that summed up the poignant horror going on in the Big Easy I'd tap this one by AP photographer Dave Martin. After four days of laying exposed to the elements some kind (non governmental) souls honored Vera Smith by respectfully covering her body in a burial shroud and forming a makeshift grave for her. With the primary evacuation of the city nearing completion and focus now turning to the recovery of the bodies left behind - fatalites caused by both Hurricane Katrina and the government's (federal, state *and* local) ineptitude in the face of crisis - I'm not sure I'm ready to absorb what's coming. It's like a surreal scene from that Steven King movie The Stand, where a super virus has wiped out most of the population of the world leaving a small band of survivors to cope and - like in Europe during the Black Plague - cryers moved around the towns yelling "Bring out your dead!" so the victims could be collected. Matter of fact, I'm sure I'm *not* ready, but that process is coming and the most heartbreaking thing of all is that it's not a movie.

Check the sidebar for a link to the Red Cross Hurricane Katrina Relief Effort. It'll be a semi-permanent fixture for the foreseeable future and as the title says - give 'til it hurts, y'all because, as British martyr Reverend John Bradford so clearly observed, "There but for the grace of God go [I]". Rest in peace, Vera.