A Pleasant Experience with a little Ego Boost Added

Hey everybody. Hope your weekend was wonderfully blessed.  As for me, mine was pretty nice. Busy, but nice. I started my day with karate practice and then a basketball game – which we lost, but no worries, there’s always the next game. And no, I ain’t the one taking karate or playing basketball, my grandson is.

After the game I went home fully intending to get my bedroom in some semblance of organized chaos. Well, it remains in total chaos because I found myself lying in the middle of my bed, organization be damned.  Earlier I had received a phone call from a friend asking if I was really too tired to attend the jazz session at TBAAL that we had already paid for. “I was just thinking that we really need to do something for ourselves for a change.” she said convincingly. So, I agreed that maybe we should go and I would be ready around 6:30. Yeah right.

As a general rule I am at the latest, on time and seldom late. But for some reason I was drag- assing around and didn’t actually leave my driveway until a quarter to seven.  Only then to be told that I was being picked up which is a “hooray!” moment for me since I really don’t like driving.

The chariot arrived, we went to dinner and then headed on over to TBAAL to hear the masterfully, talented Shaun Martin and his band. Wonderful!  Fantastic! And, so very entertaining. If you have not heard this brother then you are missing out on a soulful, jazz experience.

But, I’m getting ahead of myself. My title suggests that there was an ego boosting encounter involved. And there was.

So, we park and walk over to pay the parking lot meter - technology is truly replacing people.  Observant woman that I am I notice this huge SUV pull into the lot and park. I jokingly ask my friend why people buy such big “A” vehicles and we both laughed since I own the same brand of vehicle that I was talking about.  

I notice this brother walking toward us and since we had just had dinner complete with grilled onions, I asked if he possibly had gum or mints. He smiled and said he did in his car and would fulfill my request as soon as he paid for his parking. So, I waited and watched as he walked to the very vehicle I had joked about only moments before. When he returned I asked for two pieces of gum and told him I was just disparaging his vehicle. Then I told him that I owned the same type of truck. We both laughed and began talking as we walked toward our destination – he was on his way to enjoy jazz great Shaun Martin as well.

Long story short, this guy with the beautiful Nissan Armada, and the gum, was such a gentleman. I mean someone, somewhere, has given this brother the tools to make a woman swoon – this woman anyway. Look, as I stepped from the curb he reaches for my elbow to assist me. Then he reaches back and does the same for my friend. As we walk and talk about the wonderful vehicles that we both own, he appears to really be into the conversation. And he does not forget to assist us again as we step up onto the sidewalk.

We arrive at our destination and he expresses his gratitude for our chance meeting. We exchange names and part company. Now while I did see him again during the night, we did not speak again. But his overall genial attitude was a breath of fresh air. He did not seem pretentious or a bow-wow contender. He just seemed to be a man who appreciated and respected women.

When is the last time you had an encounter with such a genteel man? I know for me it has been a while. On the average, I encounter the suave type brother regularly. I’m not sure if it is because I am older or full-figured that I usually feel invisible to these guys. Of course I get my share of attention from men, but sometimes the supposedly cultured brother is insensitive and so full of himself that if you aren’t exactly eye candy you can fall off the curb and he won’t look back.

Two things happened that night: first, the jazz set with Shaun Martin was wonderful; and second, my ego got an unexpected boost. Again I ask: “When was your last encounter with such a gentleman?” Please share….Sonia

Dreaming? So What's Your Big Dream?????

Dreaming? So What's Your Big Dream?????

When I was a young girl I wanted to be an airline stewardess (flight attendant was not the coined phrase at the time). Anyway, whenever I would hear a plane overhead, I would sigh and wish that I could hurry and get older so I could be a stewardess. Now mind you I had never been on a plane, did not know one single person who worked for an airline - except the food handlers, and I am and have always been afraid of heights.

Did I mention that I also overlooked the fact that height and weight had to be proportionate? I was also a kinky haired, dark skinned Black child. Still, I did not let any of that deter me. I was bound and determined that when I grew up I was going to be an airline stewardess.

As I grew older that dream stayed with me. Even when I married young and even when I became a mother with only a high school education. I really can't tell you when the dream was buried. The truth is that being a stewardess seemed exciting and easy (I had obviously not done any research). I didn't know how long I would have had to be away from home; where I would be assigned to fly to or even how much the job paid. It never occurred to me that the passengers on the plane would be anything but nice and kind.

Somewhere in my young adult life I did figure out that I was not prepared or equipped to be up in anyone's plane talking about taking care of someone else. I can see it now. The first time we hit an airpocket and the plane dropped or tipped to the left, the passengers would have had to take care of me. Or, had I ever dared to look out of the window when we were thousands of feet in the air - ohmygoodLord. And what if someone ordered orange juice, I came back with apple juice and they got ugly? It would have been the first boxing match in the sky.
So what happened? I settled on whatever came up. First was being a wife. Now I have to admit that was never one of my big dreams. However, since I had said 'I-do' I tried and failed miserably. Then came being a mother. I did pretty good with that and while I had only dreamed of twins, the five I had just expanded that dream.

Yet somewhere along the way I stopped dreaming. I allowed life to consume me and suddenly my goal was to do something, anything that would (a) help me take care of my family, and (b) show my kids that you could do whatever you decided to do. But I wasn't dreaming. I had forgotten what it was like to dream of flying in the clouds - afraid of heights, weight not proportionate and all. I was focused on raising my family which was the right thing to do, but I could have focused on me too. But that would have been selfish. Right?

Of course not. I truly believe one of the biggest problems we face as women is taking care of self. We feel good when we put others first, or so we tell ourselves. We nuture everyone but ourselves and that ain't good.

We've got to remember how to dream. If we don't know how, we need to learn how. And, we need to not just dream, but nuture those dreams into reality. Yep, that's my big dream now - sharing the power of the dream.

Am I still nuturing? Yes. It is part of my make-up. Do I neglect my dreams to help someone else? No. My dream is to help. Some of us are meant to build rocket ships and some of us are meant to help those doing the building. Nothing in life is happenstance. In my world I believe there is a rhyme and reason for all things. One of the things that I learned about finding your dream/passion is to look back at what you do well - and enjoy. For me it has been providing understanding; sharing information; assisting others to move forward and I love it.

So what's my big dream? Its two-fold. I dream of working with young girls between the ages of 10 and 16 to assist them open the door to their dreams; and I want to do workshops with women 50 and older as they embrace life the second time around; as they learn to dream.

That' my dream. Assisting others in realizing their own dreams. Wow! Doesn't that sound like fun? By the way - WHAT IS YOUR BIG DREAM?!!!

I can not figure it out. Why do men feel the need to fabricate their persona and what line of work they are in? I know some of us do it as well, but I’m not talking about us right now.

Seriously, why be a CEO of your company – that no one has ever heard of, instead of a paralegal? You don’t have to manage Mickey D’s, flipping burgers isn’t a crime. Okay, you may have a problem getting an upwardly mobile woman to pay you any attention, but hey at least you can say you have integrity and refuse to lie about your occupation.

All I’m saying is ain’t no need to lie. CEO’s don’t use their tongues to wet the lenses of their eyewear before picking up a restaurant napkin to wipe the spit they left off. Ewww. Shoot, if Boo from Booger King licks his lenses it would not be out of place. If Boo accidentally, or on purpose, forgets to pay for my Big Mama burger then that’s par for the course. But when big baller, shot caller, CEO does it, that is so unacceptable.

Back in the day there was a nightclub here in Dallas called RJ’s by the Lake. Man, the ballers up in that joint were fast talking, ho’ing, and flashing that gold card as they picked up the tabs for you and your girls. One night, myself and a few of my friends went to RJ’s. That was during the time Ms. Anita Arterberry was singing. That girl sounded like Anita Baker for sure. Anyway, as usual there was a line out the door and down the sidewalk. I couldn’t do it. I hate having to stand in line at Wal-Mart and I sure as hell didn’t want to stand in line to get in no smoked filled club. Then I spotted this brother getting out of a Benz. I noticed how one of the bouncers rushed over to get his keys and take the car to park it. I told myself that was a man in charge and maybe he would be able to cut this line thing short for me and my girls. So, I walked over to him and asked him if he could get us in. He smiled, ran his finger down the side of my face (yuck, men don’t wash their hands too well.) and said yes. He played football for San Francisco or somebody – I don’t remember. I do remember someone saying he was part owner of the club. We didn’t care. All we knew was that we were in.

Long story short, the brother bought drinks for us all night long. Back then I could drink like a fish, now old age says take it slow. When we were ready to leave he wanted to know if he could take us to breakfast. Uh, yeah!. And, when breakfast was over we all went home. He went to his home and we went to ours. Wasn’t no freaky deaky stuff happening although if he had asked I think most of us would have jumped at the chance to warm his bed.

That was just one such incident. I’m not saying men were perfect back then, I’m just saying they knew how to add panache to their lies. Today men just think we are so stupid they can tell us anything. CEO my round behind! All a man needs to do is tell the effing truth. I can like the brother driving the garbage truck just as well as I can some stuffy CEO who thinks his stuff don’t stink. Few men are buying drinks, hell they don’t even hold the door or give up their seats anymore. My best friend says her grandfather told her men haven’t really changed, women have. We have lowered our expectations and we are willing to accept whatever a man dishes out. Come on ladies, let’s stop the madness. The next time you meet Mr. Right now and he tells you he is Mr. So and So CEO, Google him.
I’m just saying. - sj

Online Dating


If the truth be told, I think online dating is scary. Have I partaken of the event? Yep, and escaped unscathed with a new attitude about meeting my neighbor’s, brothers, cousin’s, uncle’s, plumber’s friend. Seriously. At least the man comes with references.

Don’t laugh. Think about it. When you go to the online dating sites they ask you all sorts of questions designed to supposedly match you -with a high degree of accuracy they claim, with the man of your dreams. The problem, as I see it, is that while you may have told the truth – for the most part, he most likely did not.

You selected “a little overweight” and he selected athletic build. You are probably not very much overweight and he has, more than likely, never had an athletic build. You are 5’8” and he says he is 6’. Yeah, more like 5’6”, maybe 5’10”, but several inches from 6’. Have you ever noticed how the height of a man claiming to be 5’10 and a woman who is 5’10’ show a marked difference?

You have some college and he has a PhD. You work for a living and he is either a high powered attorney, head of some large company you have never heard of or, he owns this multi-million dollar business that Google can’t find. Amazing. He has 0 children and has never been married. Oh, and this is his first time doing online dating.

The man is too good to be true. The entire time you guys are communicating via the www, he makes you feel so important, so pretty, so wanted. You are no princess, you are a full figured queen. As a matter of fact you are something else and that something is in love. OMG! The best part of all is that he is in love too and can not wait to meet you.

In a perfect world he lives near enough to make the visit easier for you both. You’ll be the woman with the red dress on and he will be the man in the fedora. Yeah, I said fedora. And on that special day you show up early enough to get a good seat hoping you can spot him before he sees you. So you sit and you wait and you sit and you wait and just as you are about to give it up, disheartened and disappointed, you hear someone call your name. You look up and stare into the eyes of the ugliest frog you have ever seen. But hey, after your initial shock you decide it ain’t so bad. Okay, so he’s not exactly what you saw in the picture he emailed to you and he is a bit shorter than he said he was, but hey, he showed up – right?

Two months, four days, and five hours into the relationship, you have had enough. While you are trying to think of a way out of this online mess, he is making plans to move in with you. When you tell him you don’t want to see him anymore, he suddenly becomes your stalker. No worries, he still has his page up on that dating site where you two first fell in love and soon he will convince another unsuspecting woman that he is the man of her dreams. Then, and only then, will you be off the hook.

Nah, too much trouble. I want a man with references. As a matter of fact, my oldest daughter once suggested to me that we should create an application for potential suitors. I can’t see a man actually filling one out-unless of course it allows him to participate in a buffet of women who willingly overlook the obvious. But you can do it for him. Hmm, baby girl, we need to work on that idea.

Anyways, let me repeat myself – I prefer a man with references. If he is unattractive, you know it up front. You know where he went to school; how many times he’s been married; how many baby mama’s he has; if he has a job, and on and on. Yep, a man with references trumps an online liar every time.

One last thought. A man who looks for love online is just raking up booty calls. Everyone knows that a man, short, tall, fat, ugly, whatever, does not have to do online dating. He can meet women at the grocery store just as easily. I don’t buy the excuse of being too busy to really go out and meet anyone so online is the best thing. Come on let’s be honest. Any man worth dealing with isn’t online. I could be wrong, but I highly doubt it. Best thing to do is go for the one with references.


I’m just saying.

Hey! What’s going on in your world today?

Me? Well, I was sitting here thinking about my blog and life; and, work and life; and, retirement and life; and, well, working for the rest of my life. Don’t want to do it.

Don’t get me wrong. I want to do something, but I want that something to be, at the least fulfilling…something I am passionate about not just the everyday 9 to 5 drag. I want to do that something that wakes me up in the morning and haunts – in a good way, my dreams at night. I want to take one of my gazillion ideas and make it work for me. But, I find myself full of excuses as to why I can’t do that right now. There is this little matter of money, need for health insurance and, lifestyle habits that I’m not interested in changing – like paying my bills and eating out every now and again or, shopping for me and my grandkids. Of course there are other considerations, but you get my drift. Letting go of the income that you depend on to living on uncertainty is a big step. A GIANT step really and one many of us are not willing, or ready, to take. I am going to explore this line of thought more as I blog, but today I want to talk about how we are so invisible that it is disheartening.

This blog, Marvelously Mature, is about and for African American/Black women who are 50 years of age and older. It was created as part of an assignment that I took on in grad school and, I must admit, I have just let it drift in the ether. Now I plan to blog once or twice a week about how wonderful, courageous, beautiful, eccentric, creative, etc, etc, etc – we are.

So today I decided to check out what other MarvelouslyMature African American/Black women were doing in the blogsphere and I found not much of anything. There are sites, blogs and articles about our health and fashion for the most part. What really amazed me was the number of sites dedicated to me as a sistah when it comes to my dating life, the clothes I should be wearing and celebrities who are over 50 and looking good. And my absolute favorite [sic] is the NY Times article about why Black women are so fat.

What I wanted to find was information on how to retire; recreate myself; follow my passion; become financially healthy; exchange ideas; talk trash; share recipes; share experiences…you follow me? Now, I’m not saying this stuff ain’t…yes, I said “ain’t”…out there, because it may well be. What I am saying is that if it is it is buried so deep in cyberspace that I can’t find the right combination of search words to locate it. I would love to locate such information and put it in an easy to find location available to everyone.

Still sitting here trying to work through some things, but I know what direction I’m heading in, or at least the direction I need to be headed in – the one that has been my path for years…Celebrating This Beautiful Black Life God gave me. I want to make us more visible and arm us with information that we can use to gracefully embrace the wonderful women we are evolving into.  That said, I would love to hear from you. If you have information that the MarvelouslyMature woman can use please share. Until next time…

Sonia

Hey, What "Cha Dreaming About?

I am reposting this blog because I want a do-over!!! I first posted this in February of 2011. I had this grand idea – right? Then I went to sleep and let it grow cobwebs. Well, I'm back with the same "grand idea" but with roller skates on! So, I am re-posting with a vague promise to update it weekly. If you read it I will write...Now on to the repost!

The older I get I find myself running headfirst into “AHA!” moments and I just know I need to share them. As a matter of fact, the women I want to share these glorious moments of inspiration with have run into them as well but, for the sake of argument, maybe didn’t realize they were supposed to take heed. That’s where I come in.

Something has happened to turning 50 – we are no longer considered old. We don’t feel, look or act the way 50 is reputed to act. Back in the day I am sure 50 was 50, not the new 40. The problem I am running into is that some of us didn’t get the memo. If you are like me you really didn’t plan for this stage in life. I mean, we knew we would get there, I guess we just figured life would take care of things – if we thought about it at all.

So here we are. Marvelously Mature with a full life ahead of us and we haven’t figured out what it is we want to do with this wonderful opportunity.  The dreams we once had of doing “us” have faded into our memories or, we just don’t know if we still have it in us to follow those dreams. You know what I say? I say follow that dream or dream a new one. This is your life and as baby boomers we are living longer and often have more responsibility taking care of parents, children or grandchildren than any other generation. We have to do it all! And in doing it all for everyone else we have forgotten to do something for ourselves.

Let me tell you what my dream is.

I like to fix things. Okay, I like to fix people. When I was a young girl and something bad would befall someone, or I knew someone was unhappy – I wished for a magic wand that I could wave and twist and twirl until fairy dust and stars scattered to make everything right in their world. I still wish I had that magic wand.  Now I would use it to assist people dream; dream about their future; follow their passion; live life to its fullest! And that is my dream.  A dream that I am living as I write this blog and publish my online magazine entitled Marvelously Mature.  I am so ecstatic to learn that the possibilities of what I can do are so numerous that I can pick and choose as I so desire.

Join me on this quest to share my dreams and assist my sisters of the fabulous Marvelously Mature crowd to seek and find their dreams. That said.

Hey, What Are You Dreaming About?

Sonia