#musicamondays #MusicMondays (64)

Welcome to the 64th installation of #musicamondays #MusicMondays, which features music from around the globe. Each song is selected to start your week off on the good foot! One still in the bed and the other in another country…

So, this has to be one of my all time favorite #housemusic instrumentals from South Africa. Thanks to Prince Kaybee and his expert deephouse music you should have no problem having a great day today. Go forth and be great!

 

#musicamondays #MusicMondays (63)

Welcome to the 63rd installation of #musicamondays #MusicMondays, which features music from around the globe. Each song is selected to start your week off on the good foot! One still in the bed and the other in another country…

So Rae Sremmurd really needs no introduction, but they are from Tupelo, Mississippi so they do require some interpretation. Anywho, this song is the remix w/ Migos also from the backwoods of Georgia… so… let’s say I’m taking it back to my roots this Monday morning after my birthday. I got #ratchet in my bloodstream and it doesn’t expire… #sorrynotsorry.

G’mornting and Look Alive!

#musicamondays #MUSICMONDAY (62)

Welcome to the 62nd installation of #musicamondays #MusicMondays, which features music from around the globe. Each song is selected to start your week off on the good foot! One still in the bed and the other in another country…

I don’t even know what you’d call this or where it’s from, but it’s how I feel every morning I wake up… so… you’re welcome.

Glasser

Best Books of 2016!

Like I do every year, I signed up for Goodreads’ 2016 Reading Challenge and failed miserably. My plan was to read 52 books and just yesterday, as I read the final chapter of Paulina Chiziane‘s Niketche – a novel  in Portuguese language novel about polygamy in Mozambique – I closed the page on my 39th book of the year. Thirteen books behind, I could feel guilty, but why? I discovered audible and listened to 3.5 books (not counted), saved so many life minutes that I would have spent listening to garbage music or actually reading Mindy Kaling’s horrible book. I would say that’s a victory. And so, I will only feel, but so guilty before I share with you my annual book review…

First, I have to say that my reading heavily focused on the two areas – productivity and my PhD. So, while both may seem boring as hell to you, they were fascinating to me and really pushed me to my professional limits. Second, you can imagine why this year is extremely difficult for me to judge – naming favorites across vastly different genres is really hard to do. Third, I apologize in advance because many of the books I read are not readily available. Last, if anybody is particularly interested in reading in Portuguese, I suggest you get very familiar with wook.pt and their global shipping rates.

So, let the fun begin…

My top five are as follows:

978-0-8223-4191-8_pr.jpgLiving with Bad Surroundings by Sverker Finnstrom

You can read the book if you want to know what it’s about, but I particuarly enjoyed it for its excellent writing. As a PhD student struggling to contextualize and explain how everyday violence affects individuals and their life choices, I plan to fully mimic Finnstrom’s writing techniques and adapt them to my own study.

African Workers and Colonial Racism by Jeanne Marie Penvenne51ZX1QEahZL._SX316_BO1,204,203,200_.jpg

As I wrote in my amazon.com review: “I found this study to be utterly fascinating and eerily relevant to the contemporary labor constraints in the capital of Mozambique. Anyone looking for a serious text about Mozambican economic and social realities should read this closely. It is not about the countries beaches and it doesn’t wax prophetic about the Portuguese colonial system, which I’m sure damages some people’s idyllic view of Mozambique as a country and Portugal as a racially proximate colonial master. But, with Portuguese colonialism lasting well into the 1970s, anyone living, studying or working in the country could well benefit from reading this text and understanding how it affects present day realities.”

514B-YWWBmL._SX328_BO1,204,203,200_.jpgOur Black Year by Maggie Anderson

While every year I have tried to become a more mindful consumer, this book taught me how hard that can be. For those of us who live in food deserts, it’s hard. For those looking to support small businesses it’s hard. But, this family’s quest to try to exclusively patronize Black owned businesses while living in a predominantly Black neighborhood really showed me that the economics of poverty and patronage in the U.S. context are more complicated than I thought. I, for one, am taking a second to check the owners and competitors of businesses and products that I buy regularly. Entrepreneurship is to be praised and supported. Now, many years after this book was written, it’s even easier to support – no excuses. Your funds fund corporate ideologies and empires, the choice is always yours, consumer.

This Present Darkness by Stephen Ellis* 41y5BdSQ5sL._SX317_BO1,204,203,200_.jpg

This book was written by a dead man. Really! He died while doing the research, but the study was so valuable and fascinating that his team continued his work. The study focuses on Nigeria’s black market scams and underworld. If you know anything about my interests, you know that mob movies and illegal activity are my schtick, so this story strikes a chord in my intellectual and entertainment soul. You’ve got to read it!

Essentialism by Greg McKeown514M9KlQKQL._AC_US218_.jpg

I have become a productivity addict and while listening to Asian Efficiency’s Productivity Podcast, I heard Mr. McKeown speak. Basically, he takes a 100 years after your death approach to prioritizing what you should do daily. By his definition, you can throw away half the stuff on your current to do list and never look back. It’s very freeing to pay attention to your legacy rather than your inbox, but it’s also a lot of responsibility. Once you figure out what you want your contribution to humanity to be, there’s really no looking back.

The bottom dwellers:

The Smartest Investment Book You’ll Ever Read by Daniel R. Solin

The 7 Secrets of the Prolific by Hillary Retig

The Americanization of Goans by Ladis da Silva

Actually, all of these books suck, so I won’t waste more time on them than is necessary. They all have great premises and are about really riveting subjects, but they are poorly executed in my opinion. So, read them if you must, but don’t say you weren’t warned.

I look forward to a 2017 without a goodreads challenge, but still with a lengthy reading list…

I welcome your suggestions. Leave ‘em in the comments.

#musicamondays #MUSICMONDAYS (61)

Welcome to the 61st installation of #musicamondays #MusicMondays, which features music from around the globe. Each song is selected to start your week off on the good foot! One still in the bed and the other in another country…

So, let’s all enjoy the sounds of Boubacar Traore from Mali. I’ve been listening to Mr. Traore’s music since 2007 and it never fails to move something in my soul. My sincerest sympathies, well wishes and hopes go to Mali, which has also been ravaged by terrorism as of late… and I’m a sucker for blues music and a good harmonica riff.

And on with your day, mindfully and peacefully…go.

Daddy Daughter Dance

 

Sitting in my living room are four very old, well bonded, childhood friends and the daughter of one. Of this group, only one has a child and she is the princess of their inner sanctum. She has stopped us from watching “Carlito’s Way” and got me to guiltily change the channel to Disney Kids. And she isn’t even watching it. She discovered some beach balls and a handmade truck. She’s entertaining herself with objects of diversion.  This has been after a few hours of sharing peace offerings – cookies, mango juice, toy elephants & lions – all placed strategically within her reach. I have watched this child grow from a quiet baby to a talkative toddler. She is respectful. She is sweet. She is intelligent. And she has fully taken over my living room.

She interrupts the flow of conversation and adult attempts to tie up loose ends over the phone. “Pai…PAI…PAAAIIII!” [Dad…over and over again with increasing insistence]. She has been climbing on him like he is a human jungle gym. She’s been talking to herself and playing with the beads in her braids, while standing barefoot on the couch by his side. We often call her his twin and she’s, perhaps, the female most welcome in this boys club. She hasn’t left her father’s side for longer than 2 minutes at a time despite his full engagement in a boys’ conversation that has long since stopped involving both she and me.

Watching Luna with her dad has reminded me of being one of the oldest girls in my dad’s friend circle. The memories of watching them watch the game (usually football), while I’m sure my mom thought they were watching me… all came flooding back. Those days when we were supposed to go play outside, but outside had no appeal and other kids were no option. It was me, my dad, and a room full of his friends. And I thought I was of no consequence in this scene that was beyond my age and my understanding, but I wonder now if I was as Luna is today – all over the place and unaware of my primacy.

One of the first times I remember feeling aware, though, was the annual ‘Daddy Daughter Dance’ in elementary school. All the girls came with their fathers or father figures, dressed up in the frilliest frocks, and had a fancy dinner in the school gym. Looking back it was kitsch. Looking at the photos it was tacky. Looking at Luna, I see why it mattered.

Before I knew what a boy friend was, I had already had well over a lifetime’s worth of memories with a dad who loved me so much so that I understood his presence as banal. What’s more impressive is that I grew up with a fraternity of uncles who all knew me as the awkward, bookish, four-eyed tag along in the crew. Until now, I didn’t realize how important their friendship was for my idea of responsible manhood. They were and still are responsible parents, hard-working members of the working class, God-fearing (different Gods too, let me say for the record) members of my extended family.

What I understand now is that it was a privilege to have my father in my life. For an African-American girl growing up an urban city, my experience was unique only in so far as girls that look like me don’t have childhoods like mine. It is an aberration for my generation and demographic, but it is portrayed as normal for so many other little girls around the world who have learned to expect so much from the men in their lives. What’s particularly unique, above and beyond the stereotypes, is the reality that I learned at a very early age to trust, love and feel safe with Black men.

With so much of the world being afraid of groups of Black men, feeling threatened by their collective presence, misunderstanding the depths of their friendships, and questioning their right to life and prosperity, I know and have always known better. Black girls like Luna who grow up to be Black women like me know that we are not asking too much of our men to be present, to be loving, to be nurturing and to be responsible. We know that not all groups of Black men are to be feared. We understand that they thrive in their friendships and their bonds are deep. We expect that they will draw strength and wisdom from their inner circle, that they will be each other’s keeper, and they will do their own social policing to make sure that they live a truth worthy of this one chance at life that they’ve been given.

Girls like us learn a lot in this daddy daughter dance. We reaffirm our love for our fathers. We know to rely on our uncles, just as much as we rely on our aunts. We are assured that they can be relied upon as much as our fathers, for they are an extension of his ambitions for himself, his community, and his family. Whether we spin in circles in front of the television, jump on his shoulders while he tries to drink a beer,  or step on his toes while dancing in the school gym, we are lucky to have lived a very public daddy daughter dance in the audience of men who saw it as their responsibility to show us their love, protection, and respect for women, including the little one screaming to the top of her lungs “Pai…viu?” [Dad… see?] in the middle of my living room, where she is safe, where she is loved, where she can take all of this for granted… forever.

 

 

 

#musicamondays #MUSICMONDAYS (60)

Welcome to the 60th installation of #musicamondays #MusicMondays, which features music from around the globe. Each song is selected to start your week off on the good foot! One still in the bed and the other in another country…

The song hails from the amazing Malian artist, Salif Keita. Despite his albinism considered a sign of bad luck or otherwise a sign of good luck (which means bad luck for actual albinos) , he rose to fame locally and then internationally after moving to Paris in the 80s. Welcome to West Africa on this happy Monday morning… Enjoy!