September 25, 2018--Second Lady

To distract myself from Trump-related agita I flipped around the Internet to see if there were some things we should book to do after returning to New York City in late October. 

Maybe take in a few shows and a couple of concerts.

I checked out Live Nation's website to see what they might be featuring. Among others they represent U2, Miley Cyrus (who I confess to liking), and Beyonce.

Maybe, I thought, we should go to something at the Barclays Center in the new Downtown Brooklyn. We haven't been there for anything, including to see the hapless Brooklyn Nets, partly owned by Jay-Z. It's that hip. 

Something unexpected jumped out as Live Nation's featured attraction--

On December 1st at the Barclays Center Michelle Obama will appear to promote her new book, Becoming Michelle Obama.

Tickets are available but going like hotcakes and so a second night is being added to the schedule. 

All over the country where she will appear in more than a dozen huge stadiums, including the 23,500 United Center in Chicago--home of the Bulls--tickets are selling so fast and the price is so high that the title of the former First Lady's book could be Becoming Rich.

First, there is the astounding $65 million advance the two Obama's received for a book from each of them. And then at the Barclays Center a fifth-row seat will set you back $1,256 (not a typo). A "meet-and-greet" package goes for $3,000, wheelchair seating at the back of the house costs $400 and a perch in the very top tier is only $29.50. For these, remember to bring binoculars.

I should add, as you attempt to assimilate this, about how the former president and his wife who represented themselves as all about reducing inequality while serving in the White House, how these two could so quickly sell their souls to Mammon (and Netflix, where they have a production deal that will yield well over $100 million) , supposedly 10 percent of the tickets to each event (I almost typed "concert") will be set aside for local "charities." Nosebleed seats, I assume.

Quoted in the New York Times, Steven Barclay (not related to the Brooklyn center), a book agent, was "virtually speechless as he checked the Ticketmaster landing page for Mrs. Obama, 'Huh,' he said, 'Wow. O.K. It's like you're looking at a Madonna tour.'"

More, I say, like a Beyonce tour. I've suspected for years that Michelle has felt Barack has an eye for Beyonce. And that she kept him an a short leash whenever there was an event at the White House or Inauguration to which Beyonce was invited. And that slowly, over time, the First Lady morphed her makeup and hair to look more and more like the singer's.

Check out the photo below and tell me I'm wrong.

June 22, 2108--Beyonce & the Mona Lisa

Rona said, "Isn't this the stupidest thing you've ever seen in the New York Times"?

She read from last Sunday's Magazine--

Every week the magazine publishes the results of a study conducted online last June by the New York Times's research-and-analytics department, reflecting the opinions of 2,903 subscribers who chose to participate.

"Doesn't sound uninteresting," I said, "It would be nice to know what Times readers have to say about Russia or the Middle East."

Having said this, to be honest, I tuned out as I was deep into the Sports section, trying to make heads or tails of what was going on with the soccer World Cup.

"Not even close," Rona said. "Here's the question they sought opinions about." Again she read from the NYT--

Dear Reader: If you were invited to lick the 'Mona Lisa,' would you do it?

"What?" I said, now paying attention.

"Listen to the results."

"You mean there were actual results?"

"Ninety-seven percent said no, 2% said maybe, and 1% said yes."

"You probably could get 1% to say they'd slash the canvas with a linoleum knife."

"I agree," Rona said, "But isn't it incredible the lengths the Times will go to try to be relevant?"

"Maybe they asked this question because Beyonce and Jay-Z recently shot a video in the Louvre, in the room where the Mona Lisa is, for their latest self-indulgent album."

"What?" It was Rona's chance to be incredulous.

"I saw a piece about it last week, also in the Times. Nothing inscrutable about that. Though of course this isn't quite the same thing as licking it."

"I give up," Rona said.

"You started this," I said.

March 20, 2015--Betty Carol's (Concluded)

There were not just a few folks squeezed together at a table by the window. The rest of the place was bustling. There were about ten tables and all but one, which we slipped into, were full. And opposite an open kitchen, along a counter, there were six stools, five of which were occupied. There was also a line at the counter of at least six men waiting to pick up takeout food.

The grill was sizzling and at least half the people were talking simultaneously so the place had a homey buzz. And the aromas emerging from the kitchen incited our appetites, which on their own were quite advanced.

"Are you sure it's almost ten o'clock Rona whispered. "I mean, look at this place. Lumberton seems to be quite a small town and it feels as if half the people who live here must be having breakfast."

"And, it looks as if they all know each other."

There was lots of cross table talk as well as joshing and back slapping at the counter. Black and white together, though at the tables white folks appeared to be sitting primarily with other white folks and the same was true for the black customers. But there was enough cross-race byplay to make it feel far from segregated. I was reminded of the fact that Greensboro, where the lunch-counter sit-in movement began in the 1960s, was not that distant.

"How far we've come," I said to as if myself. But I know Rona heard me, understood, and nodded.

"Let's order," she said. "I'm starving and could go for some eggs and grits."

"Me too," I said. "And I see they have country ham. My favorite. All for $4.75. You can't beat that price."

"Don't get used to it," Rona said, "We're headed to Manhattan where, if we go to Balthazar for breakfast, half a grapefruit costs $11.00."

"Maybe more," I said."We were there three months ago and there's inflation to consider." I was attempting to make a joke.

"Let's just enjoy ourselves," Rona said, "and for once not think about the cost of things."

By then one of the waitresses came by with a steaming pot of coffee. With a smile she poured two cups and said she'd be back in a minute to take our orders. And as promised, she was and we both ordered scrambled eggs, grits, country ham, and homemade biscuits.

Looking over at the table behind Rona I ogled the stack of biscuits. The man who had ordered them winked as if to assure us that we chosen wisely. And um, um did we ever. The eggs came perfectly scrambled, floating on top of a large plate of anything-but-instant grits; and a sliver of country ham, just as leathery as I like it, accompanied it on a second dish with our own stack of biscuits.

Everything was delicious and as we gobbled the food the waitress returned repeatedly to refill our cups. Though it was easy to see that we were not locals, in fact from the location of Betty Carol's and the fact that Lumberton has few if any tourist or historic sites (I learned later that it was the setting for David Lynch's Blue Velvet) anyone unfamiliar had to be from out of town. But, as a sweet courtesy she asked, "Are you from here?"

"Not really," Rona said. "We're from the city. I mean, New York City."

"Now that's some place to be from," she smiled broadly. "I think about getting up there one of these days. I have family in New York."

"Where's that?" I asked.

"Never been there but my mother says right by the capital."

"That would be Albany."

"That's what she thinks. She's never been there neither. It's just somethin' we time-to-time think about doing. Helps keep us going."

"Well, if you do visit, try to work in a few days in New York City. It's not that far from Albany," Rona added.

"They say things up there cost a lot." I thought again about the $11.00 grapefruit.

"True enough. But if it's . . ."

"Be right by, honey. They're makin' a racket over there. Can't pour 'em coffee fast enough. If that was me, you'd have to carry me out a here, what with all that caffeine. But I'll be right back."

While she was serving the men at the counter, the stream of people coming in for takeout didn't abate, though it was getting close to the time they shut down breakfast and switch to a buffet lunch. Having noticed that, Rona and I had wondered if we should stop eating our breakfast and also think about lunch. I had gone to the bathroom and needed to skirt by where they were cooking fried chicken and okra for the buffet. I had reported to Rona what was in the works.

"All you can eat for only seven dollars," I said.

"There you go again talking about the cost of things. Can't we just . . ."

Before she could finish her thought our waitress returned, still smiling. "All the fellas are askin' 'bout you. Specially when I told them where you're from. Jackie over there, the one dressed like Snoop Dogg--the one standin' by George-Willie--he has been tryin' to make things happen for himself here but there's nothing going on but this." She swept the room with a broad gesture. "Which is not big enough for him."

"What does he do?" Rona asked. I saw that he did in fact look a lot like Snoop Dogg. Minimally he was inspired by him.

"A musician," she sighed. "All the boys here are either musicians or playing basketball. Hoping they'll get a ticket out a here. Though as you can see, folks seem pretty happy to be in this place. Not just at Betty Carol's but in this town too. We do our complainin' but it's not such a bad place to be. Look around. People from all walks get along. Mind you, it's not perfect. What place is? But life's good here. Still, I understand. I have a couple of boys myself and all I hear about are LeBron James and Jay-Z. A lot of these boys don't want to work timbering or in one of the plants or do healthcare work. They have big dreams. Though I tell my boys it's the quality of life that counts. Family first but then there are all these fine folks here who have figured out how to live together. To my mind that counts for something.'"

"It does for me too," I said. "Those are good values."

"You folks plannin' on staying for lunch? Horace over there he makes some mean fried chicken."

"I'm all full up," Rona said. Her dish looked as if she has scraped it. "Maybe we'll take some with us to nibble on the road."

"Sounds good to me," the waitress said, all excited. "By the way, my name's Mary." She reached out to shake both our hands as we also introduced ourselves. "You prefer white or dark?"

"How 'bout a mix of both?" I said.

"Perfect choice," she said. "I'll have it for you in a minute. In the meantime, can I pour you some more coffee?"

"I've had more than my quota," I said, covering my cup with my hand.

"By the way," she said, "today's my 45th birthday. I know I don't look it," she laughed, "Gettin' to know you is my favorite present."

Back in the car, Rona said, "What did you mean about no one having any teeth? That wasn't very nice. They all looked fine to me. Mostly quite spiffy. Including that Snoop fellow. He had the Dogg's act down perfectly."

July 19, 2013--Jay Z?

I was on line browzing among weather forecasting Websites to find one that said that the heat and humidity were about to break.

No such luck. They were unanimous--no relief in sight until at best Saturday and only after thunderstorms that threaten to be "dangerous." It's even hot here on the Midcoast of Maine. Maybe 90 in the shade.

And then between the Weather Channel and the Weather Underground up popped the headline--

Jay-Z Changing His Name.

For relief from the heat and depressing news from all over, and as someone who has an ongoing interest in the doings of Beyonce's husband, I clicked on that to see what's going down.

Here's the scoop--

His new name appears to be Jay Z, changed from Jay-Z.

He was born in Brooklyn and named Shawn Carter and I understand that in the hip-hop world adopting a name like Jay-Z makes a lot of sense.

In Shawn's case, Jay-Z was derived from two sources--his musical mentor, Jaz-O, and the fact that both the J and Z trains stop at the Marcy Avenue subway station near the projects in which he grew up.

I don't get the dropping of the hyphen. I sort of liked it. But he does have a new album, "Magna Carta . . . Holy Grail," that he's promoting so I guess anything for a headline and a few more bucks.

April 10, 2103--The Z's In Habana

To celebrate their 5th anniversary, Jay-Z and Beyoncé spent a few days in Cuba. No big deal, right? Wrong. In fact it was.

To at least Republicans in Congress who are demanding an investigation, especially Cuban-American congressmen and also Senator Mitch McConnell, who, in his tough reelection campaign, is trying to pass himself off as a Hispanic; and who, incidentally, also announced this week that he will join the filibuster to make sure gun safety legislation never comes up for a vote.

To tell you the truth, I'm getting a little tired of Jay-Z and Mrs. Z. From Beyoncé lip-sinking the National Anthem at President Obama's inauguration (and behaving as if it were their inauguration or coronation) to Jay-Z becoming a sports agent; from her self-indulgent HBO autobiographical sort-of-documentary, to his designing the Brooklyn Nets' uniforms.

Enough of that, but to get crazy about their spending a long weekend in Habana is going too far.

It's time to get over the Cold War with Cuba. Fidel is a defanged physical wreck and his brother is a bland, no-threat commandante who, if we slipped him a few million, would let the United Fruit Company reoccupy the island or, minimally, send us a few cases of Montecristo cigars.

But cynical politicians can't help themselves from seizing on anything that enables them to pander to any sliver of a constituency. Senator (Who-Never-Will-Be-President) Marco Rubio (who got caught lying a few years ago about his own Cuban heritage), insinuated--

According to recent news reports, Jay-Z and Beyoncé’s Cuba trip, which the regime seized on for propaganda purposes, was fully licensed by the Treasury Department. If true [and he's sure it is], the Obama administration should explain exactly how trips like these comply with U.S. law and regulations governing travel to Cuba and it should disclose how many more of these trips they have licensed.

Ironically, Rubio is pitching his parents' generation of Cuban exiles who still dominate the street scene in Miami's Little Havana, but are rapidly dying out. The born-in-America generation is for the most part calling for normalization. Just like immigrant groups who preceded them, they think of themselves as Americans first and of Cuban heritage second. To them all the exhortations and prohibitions against Cuba make little sense. In November they voted for Obama by over 70 percent, through older Cubans remain traditionally Republican.

Thus, even from a political perspective, it makes sense for Obama to do what needs to be done to get on with it--to recognize Cuba and again exchange ambassadors. He should also make it easy for Jay-Z and the rest of us to travel to Cuba and even spend American dollars while there. We can do so with Russia, which 51 years ago threatened to wipe us from the face of the earth with the nuclear missiles they had installed in Cuba. The Russians, who did the installing, not Fidel.

If I were Obama, I'd wait until halfway through my second term so as not to enflame things even more than they are with the demagogic-right in Congress.

And while I'll advising Barack Obama what to do, I'd clean up our other mess in Cuba--the Guantanamo Base prison where we are still holding 166 so-called "detainees."

Those who should be tried should be shipped to appropriate courts in the United States; those who are not longer a threat should be sent back to wherever their homes are; and the handful who for whatever reasons can't be released or tried in public (maybe a total of a half dozen) should be kept in a high security prison like the Supermax in Florence, Colorado, which is eager to have them.

It is again a mix of fear and demagoguery that has thwarted Obama from carrying out his campaign promise to close Gitmo. But as I write this, right now in New York City, Osama bin Laden's son-in-law, Sulaiman Abu Ghaith, is being tried in public. He was Al Qaeda's official spokesman and thus deemed to have engaged in terrorist activities. No one is saying he is too dangerous to be in New York, walking distance from the site of the World Trade Center. In fact, there have been dozens of equivalent trials in New York and elsewhere in the U.S., and in every instance the defendants have been convicted.

So again, in the last years of his presidency, President Obama should clean this up. That would be some change we could believe in.