Surprise parties make for a very odd dance recitals.
Saturday was interesting to say the least. I got two see my father's side of the family and my mother's side on the same day, but in totally different respects. Throughout the day I realized just how far I've drifted from my extended family and I was reminded why.
When I'm president no one will have to bury a family member younger than they are. My cousin Antoine was in a car accident last week; oddly enough the same day I was thinking how lucky I was to never loose anyone close to me in a car accident. I should have known the guy better...no excuses for that. Though his death should bring me closer to a side of my family, odds are it probably won't.
On the brighter side. GrandBoogie (my grandmother) turns 75 on Monday and she is as classy as ever. How a person who grew up in such a hard time for blacks (and people in general) can be so understanding and compassionate is beyond me, but hey I'll take it. She is also the only person that I would dance for...well excluding the lambada. So I had to cut the rug for awhile with my sister's friend Dionne at my grandmother's surprise birthday party. Fred Astaire I ain't, but I managed not to horribly injure Dionne in the process. I hereby apologize to all those in attendance...there is no excuse for those moves I displayed.
So to one of my favorite people in world: HAPPY BIRTHDAY GrandBoogie...hopefully I'll be forced to dance again next year.
1 comment:
There is just something about older black women that personifies all the best qualities of black people, older people, and women. I would never endorse the conditions under which they matured, but there must have been something in suffering through those times that made some really incredible people.
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