Ella Mae

Ella Mae Blount 1912-2012

My grandma passed away yesterday. She was 99-and-a-half years old and died peacefully while asleep in her own bed. She was healthy and happy and clear of mind and spirit when she died.

After my mom called and told me Grandma had died, I unpaused the TV show I was watching and continued. I thought it might distract me from the news I'd just gotten. But it didn't. (Big surprise.) So I turned it off and I just...sat. My grandma and I weren't close, but neither were we distant. We simply lived across the country from each other and didn't communicate often. But I loved her dearly and I like to think that I was a decent grandson, especially during the last few years of her life.

As I sat on my couch, what I thought about was her life and her death. She was nearly a century old. A century! She was born just 9 years after Orville and Wilbur learned to fly. She witnessed the birth of commercial aviation and saw Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon. She was around when a telephone still weighed about 4 pounds, only came in one color and didn't have a prayer of fitting into a handbag or a pocket. She had a typewriter and sent letters and didn't have a computer and never sent an email. She heard movies go from silent to sound and saw them go from black and white to color. She listened to radio and then watched television. She sang to herself and then got a phonograph and then a cassette player and then a CD player. (No iPod for Grandma, though.)

My grandma lived through World Wars I and II. She lived through Korea and Vietnam. She survived every disease known to modern man either because she never caught it or simply kicked its ass. She wasn't killed by a mugger or a drunk driver or a heart attack or a stroke. She was born in a time when it was nearly unlivable to be black in America and she saw the modern civil rights movement make life a bit better.

She raised 2 sons who then raised children of their own, who then raised children of their own. She was all of 5'-2", had a thick silver braid down to her butt, and I can't pull up a mental image of her face without a smile on it. She said her trick to keeping a clean house was to put things down where they belong. And she said that every disagreement isn't worth arguing about.

When I think about death, the idea of dying doesn't bother me that much. I think what frightens me is how I'll die. Will it be painful? Will I be alone? Will it take long? Will it be after a protracted illness while I'm lying in a hospital bed attached to machines and surrounded by strangers?

My grandmother died peacefully and painlessly while asleep in her own bed. That's how I could go. So for today, I'm not quite as frightened as I was.

Thanks, Grandma.

The Beyond - A Short Story

This post is a companion piece to my previous post. It's a short story that @Christy (booksflutterby.blogspot.com) wrote after I showed her two pieces of science-fiction art that I did. I think it's a wonderful story (in my unbiased opinion) and I hope you'll give it a read.

Enjoy!

The Beyond

The Beyond
For years we lived in the peace of our world, content with the knowledge that had been handed down from father and mother to son and daughter. In the darkness of night, we gathered with families, heard tales of the Ancients, and learned that when one ceased to exist on this plane, the other world awaited. In the day, we went about our business, living our lives. When the skies were clear, one could look up and see the red stillness that was and had always been. It was simply, The Beyond.

The Beyond was a place the Ancients believed the essence of our being went once we ceased to exist physically on our planet. Another was The Traverse. The Beyond was preferable. It could be seen. We knew when we looked at it that perhaps our loved ones were there. The Traverse was frightening. What did it look like? Why could we not see it? As the ancients explained it, it was what was just past The Beyond, and only a select few were chosen to go.

We became curious and began to wonder what was inside, or even on the other side, of The Beyond. Did one truly go there when one ceased to exist? If we could somehow build a craft that could take us there, would we see our loved ones? And if we could go farther, would we find out who went to The Traverse and why?

And so began the journey to build crafts that would take us into The Beyond and perhaps to the Traverse. It took years of failed experiments. We worked as one, those on the long side of the world and those on mine. It became a universal goal. What was already a functioning global community became more so. Then the day came when one of the test launches of a craft lifted off, hovered and moved higher toward The Beyond. We were ready.

The world rejoiced! Soon we would have answers. More tests were done, crafts were built, and teams were chosen to go on the first journey. Training was intense, but all knew it was worth it. Those who were chosen would find answers, bring them back to our world, and perhaps become the new Ancients with new answers.

When the day arrived for the four crafts to depart, everyone was there to witness it in person, those from our side and the long side of the world. The crowds were large and the mood was high.We who were chosen boarded with pride and an intense emotion we had never before felt. Finally, we would see The Beyond. Finally we might see loved ones long passed.

All went well with lift off. We made it through several layers of atmosphere and neared our first destination: The Beyond. The red glow that had been so comforting was now slightly frightening. We were worried. As we entered the brightness of The Beyond, our crafts tilted and alarms sounded. We did our best to keep control, and watched as our three sister craft did the same. Finally we broke through.

The Traverse

Surrounded by the warm red glow, we marveled at the wisps of vapor that seemed to dance. Desperately we searched for signs of what the ancients had told us. Where were our loved ones? We continue to explore The Beyond, but there was no sign of life. There was no sign of a planet where we could land. There was no sign of familiar faces. With deep sorrow, we sent images back to our world with the message that we were continuing on to The Traverse.

Again, we struggled to maintain control as we moved from the red atmosphere of The Beyond to the mysterious unknown of The Traverse. It took such concentration, that none of us noticed what it looked like until we were through and steady.

Finally, we were on the other side of The Beyond and instead of the brilliant red we had known all our lives, we saw a peaceful blue that hypnotized us. This was The Traverse. The vastness was almost overwhelming. Our small imaginations had never envisioned this. We no longer believed we would find our loved ones, but we did believe we would find others, and we wanted to experience their beauty.

V I S U A L S v.2

I was sitting here trying to think of something new to talk/rant about, and – apparently – the world is now perfect, because I can't think of anything to bitch about right now. But I did realize I'd done a bit of artwork since the last time I posted some of my stuff.

So until something pisses me off or otherwise strikes my fancy, here's some new-ish artwork to keep you busy for a little while. Click on the images to see an enlarged view.

Enjoy!

Mouthful of Mic [Illustrator and Photoshop] I guess I don't really need an explanation for this one. Except that was misleadingly difficult to do. It kept looking like a bean, which was frustrating. It didn't start looking like a microphone until I shaded it and chromed it up.

The Beyond [Photoshop] I was in a sci-fi/geeky mood for a while and did this along with The Traverse. I didn't come up with these titles either; Christy did. And she wrote a really cool short story to go with them.

Guardian [Illustrator and Photoshop] Yay! An actual paying piece! This is...I'm not actually sure what this thing is. I call it the warp drive.

Hitachi [Illustrator and Photoshop] When I was first starting to get into using the computer to do illustration instead of the airbrush, I used to collect photos I found of cool looking stuff. I found this in a magazine and thought it would be a good exercise to keep honing my Photoshop skills.

CK-650 [Illustrator and Photoshop] This was a blast to do. Sometimes I'll just go on Google and look for images of cars or motorcycles – anything that seems like it'd be fun to draw. This piqued my curiosity so – voila!

Sentinels [Illustrator and Photoshop] Sci-fi/geek mode again. I drew one of these...things and then decided to dupe them and put them in orbit around an earth-like planet. I think of them as guardians of the world below, impersonal but also unthreatening.

The Traverse [Illustrator and Photoshop] This is the companion piece to The Beyond (the second piece in this collection). This started as a doodle in Illustrator and sort of got out of hand. lol I don't really know what these things are though. Stargates maybe? Portals to regions unknown?

U.S.S. Venture [Illustrator] I was a major Star Trek: The Next Generation fan and I loved the graphics that visual artist Mike Okuda did for the show. I first drew this in pen and ink when I was just a wee one and wanted to re-do it in the style of ST:TNG's graphics.

Enday [Photoshop] This was kind've a joke for Christy's mom. I think she saw another planet thingy I'd done and thought the lights of the city were explosions. So now we have our end-of-days world.

The Chrysler Building [Illustrator and Photoshop] This is a work-in-progress (you may have noticed that the Chrysler building isn't actually there yet), but I thought I'd show it here and then post the finished piece eventually.

Cops Aren't Idiots, They're Just Written That Way

But I'm stylin'!

This is not a cop-bash. It's a TV cop bash. Reality shows may still be all the rage, but give me a police procedural and I'm glued to the boob tube. But why? Why, why, why are the cops so stupid? I don't know much about real police procedure, but I've gotta believe that TV cops are way dumber than real ones.

I understand that a certain amount of artistic license may be necessary for dramatic purposes, but do writers have to make TV cops short-bus stupid? Surely there are real cops across America that are rolling their eyes, pissed off that TV portrays them as clichéd numbskulls. Don't get me wrong; there are a few smart cops out there. Detective Kate Beckett on "Castle" is smart, pretty, and tough. Detective Robert Goren on "Law & Order: Criminal Intent" is brilliant. And Detective Jane Timoney (the brilliantly acerbic Maria Bello), late of "Prime Suspect", was the coolest, most realistic female TV cop since Cagney and Lacey (probably why she was canceled). If I was murdered, I'd want any of these top cops on the case.

But most of them are just dumber than a bag of rocks. For example:

Should Be Working Vice
Why are the male detectives all balding, middle-aged, non-descript gray suits while the female detectives are hot and sassy? Carrie Wells on "Unforgettable" (see photo) wears tops cut down to her navel and 5-inch stiletto boots (along with an annoying, ever-present smirk). If I was a suspect and I saw her coming after me, I'd run. Why? Because she can't catch me if she's wearing 5-inch stiletto boots. With her long, bright red hair, sleeveless low-cut tops and heels, she should be working vice, not homicide.

Sharing is Good For the Soul
Why do cops discuss ongoing investigations in front of, well, everyone? They interview a shop-owner in his store, and then reveal details of the case while he listens on. What if he was involved in the crime? Good thing for him that they're kind enough to let him know exactly how off-track they are.

Mr. Manson, Meet the Parents
Why do cops parade families of victims through the squad room, in plain view of the suspects? "Right this way, Mr. Smith." "Hey...hey...! Is that the scumbag who raped and murdered my daughter?" Always eager to help out, some hapless cop has a firearm handy for the victim's dad to snatch and shoot the suspect. The suspect who turns out to be innocent.

Always Give Fair Warning
This is one of my favorites. Our intrepid detectives are searching for a suspect. They spot him on the street and shout, "Hey, you! FREEZE!" from either a) a block away, b) across a crowded room, or c) when the suspect is within easy reach of a potential hostage. Naturally, the suspect always gets away in the ensuing chaos. If I was a cop, I'd casually saunter up to the suspect, put my gun in his ear, and shout FREEZE! That way, he wouldn't get away and I'd have the added benefit of scaring the shit out of him.

Nah, He'll Never Use the Fire Escape
The entire detective squad is decked out in riot gear, the S.W.A.T. team is present with battering rams, shotguns, and automatic rifles. They bust into the suspect's lair, a gunfight breaks out and...the suspect gets away through a secret tunnel, onto the roof, down a fire escape, etc. Did it not occur to anyone to check the building's blueprint before mounting the assault? (The suspect did.)

It Could Be Ketchup
Why do detectives always have to dip their fingers in a pool of blood and then rub their fingertips together to discover that it is, indeed, blood? Haven't they seen enough blood to know what it looks like? And hello? Blood-borne pathogens? Hepatitis? AIDS? ("Dude, did that paper cut heal yet?")

It Could Be Powdered Sugar
If I was a badass drug dealer and wanted to bump off the entire narcotics division, I'd plant a brick of arsenic-laced cocaine in plain view because I could rest assured that all the cops would whip out their switchblade (they all have one), poke a hole in the pack, and taste the product. A product that could be...PCP perhaps? Or Drano? Or rat poison? And how on earth do they pass a department mandated drug test after they've been sampling smack all week?

No, No, Really – I'm Fine
Det. Curtis shoots a kid by mistake. Later, he slams a suspect against a wall during an interrogation and snarls, "You think I'm done with you? Huh? Well, do ya? Punk!" His captain says, "Um, ok. That's enough, Det. By the way, how's the counseling going?" Is there a TV cop out there who actually welcomes counseling after a traumatic event? And is there a lieutenant or captain who would let their detective carry a gun after seeing him/her go uncharacteristically medieval on some perp's ass?

Better Let 'Em Know We're Here
After an episode's worth of searching, our heroes have finally discovered the location of the mad bomber's hideout. So they head over with sirens blaring and tires screeching to a halt, thus alerting the suspect that the police have arrived. While the team is preparing to bust in the door, the perp is setting a booby-trap bomb and effecting his escape. Which leads us to...

Clear!
No, it's not! Busting into a house, quickly sweeping a room with a flashlight and declaring a room "clear" is just stupid. Did they check the closets, under the bed, the attic, the crawlspace under the house? If I was a bad guy, I wouldn't come out, guns blazing. I'd just hide in the bathtub, because they didn't check there either.

If I Look at You Hard Enough, You'll Confess
If you suspect, but as yet have no proof, that someone's guilty of something, why would you stare them down, thus alerting them that they're under suspicion. "Hmmm... Clearly she knows I'm up to something. So while they're continuing their investigation, I'll eliminate all of the evidence that could possibly implicate me. That way, I'll escape and they can bring me back all season long to not get caught again and again and again and..."

A Few Honorable Mentions...
- Empty threats made against suspects during heated, yet fruitless interrogations
- Insubordinate cops that wouldn't just get fired, they'd be shot
- Unmarked cop cars that look like cop cars ("Hey Vinnie? You think that's a couple of cops in the black Crown Victoria with no hubcaps that's been parked across the street for the past 7 hours?")
- Serial killers that don't get caught
- Unsolved murders of our hero's loved ones (Kate Beckett's mom on "Castle", Patrick Jane's family on "The Mentalist", Carrie Wells' sister on "Unforgettable")

I don't know if it's something in the Police Procedural Writer's Rulebook that says every show has to have this crap, but enough already. Let's get some smart TV cop who wear sensible shoes.

I Now Pronounce You Gay

Connecticut, Iowa, Maryland, Massachusetts, New Hampshire,
New York, Vermont, and Washington  – 8 states down, 42 to go!

Women weren't allowed to vote until about 90 years ago. A lot of people thought slavery was OK until it was abolished nearly 150 years ago because it wasn't OK. Hitler thought it was OK to eliminate 10 million Jews and Gypsies until we decided it was actually genocide. After our nation's – and the world in general's – tumultuous history, it shouldn't still take decades to learn from our mistakes. Yet there are people out there who think 8 states allowing gay marriage is 8 states too many. The Republican party is even making the ban on gay marriage a key issue in the upcoming election. Apparently the economy, housing crisis and continued healthcare reform aren't really that big a deal.

Where I live, lawmakers just passed a bill for same-sex marriage. Not to sound overly naïve, but when I heard that I remember thinking, "They had to pass a law for people to get married? I thought they did that already."

Many of the proponents of the bill at the government level are gay, as are many across the country who have campaigned to have similar legislation made into law in their own home states. I'm not gay, and I don't think you have to be to recognize an individual's right to marry anyone they choose. Similarly, you don't have to be black or a woman to appreciate their right to equal civil liberties.

What I've never understood is why groups of people feel the need to curtail the rights and privileges of other groups of people for arbitrary reasons. And yes, they're arbitrary. A person's sexual preference has no bearing on their ability to be an effective firefighter, or teacher, or police officer, or ditchdigger. (There are plenty of straight people who suck at those jobs.)

I dated a woman who thought gays shouldn't be allowed in the military or in law enforcement. This was back during the early days of President Clinton's liberal gay rights policies which eventually morphed into "Don't Ask, Don't Tell". I asked her why she felt this way. Her response was that gays in the military would weaken the military's morale and, thus, their readiness because the straight members would be so uncomfortable sharing barracks or showers with the gays. And my response was that that's the straight guys' problem. The gays aren't uncomfortable, so why should they be penalized because a bunch of backward-thinking homophobes don't know how to man up? If G.I. Joe is weirded out by G.I. Joey, get G.I. Joe some sensitivity training. And hey, if you're worried about being hit on by a gay bunk mate, just say no. (Straight soldiers have a history of raping and abusing women in the military already. Sounds like a personal problem...)

I wish I was a trained social psychologist because maybe then I'd have some insight into why homosexuality makes so many people so uncomfortable, even afraid. And I don't say that so I'll look ultra-progressive and cool. I say that because I'd honestly like to know. I understand that homosexuality scares many straight people. I just don't understand why.

Being gay doesn't make you smarter or dumber, stronger or weaker, taller or shorter, fatter or skinnier. Gay people are old and young, black and white, yellow and brown. They're rich and poor, have great jobs and are unemployed. They're less likely to be rapists, serial killers and child molesters. Homosexuality isn't contagious, it doesn't smell funny, it doesn't look funny (most of the time), and it doesn't breed promiscuity. It doesn't affect anyone else in any way, save for an individual's chosen response to it. It's interesting that gays have never sought to compromise the rights and privileges of, or otherwise sanction, straight people. Maybe they would if they were the majority. Maybe if there were more of "them" than "us", I'd have to kiss Christy in private. And maybe I'd read more news stories about straight-bashing and "Herpes: The Straight Disease!" I'd hear more pundits twisting arcane bible scripture to justify their warped interpretation of God's word.

Bottom line, who among us has the right to say who should and shouldn't be allowed to marry? Common sense dictates that you can't marry your sibling or your dog. But short of the obvious, I don't see the problem. Until someone comes along and can prove they're an expert on love and marriage, I think we should all be allowed to make our own decision when it comes to a spouse. Love isn't gay or straight.

Civil Rights 2.0 Redux

Some of you may notice that I posted this back in the wee days of my blog last February. A few people mentioned that it might be cool if I re-posted it in honor of Black History Month. My intention was to post this at the beginning of the month, so naturally, I procrastinated until the middle of the month.

I re-read this and decided that there was nothing I wanted to change. I still feel exactly the same as I did last year, and will probably feel the same next year.

So read up, if you care to. And share your thoughts, if you're so inclined. Thanks! - Steven

* * *

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and Malcom X

I was a kid living overseas during the height of the civil rights movement in the late sixties and early seventies. I'm still not sure whether I consider myself lucky to have been away during that tumultuous period, or that I somehow missed out. I consider myself a progressive, even brave person and I'd like to believe that if the need had presented itself, I would've been right out there, waving a sign and doing my best to stick it to The Man with all the other angry, idealistic people.

Civil rights, or rather the idea of civil rights, seems so basic, so much of a no-brainer, that it shouldn't even still be an issue. But, of course, it is. We've all heard a variation of the story about how someone's cousin's best friend's wife's sister didn't get a job someplace doing some-such-thing because they were white and a minority quota had to be met because of Affirmative Action. That may be so. And it's unfortunate. No one should be denied employment because of their color. (I almost used the word 'race', but we're all one race, right? Anyone out there not human?) Truth be told, Affirmative Action is tantamount to reverse discrimination. But at that time in this country, discrimination was so pervasive that bigots had to be forced, by law, not to engage in racist practices, at least in the workplace. Rocky Redneck had to hire black folk whether he wanted to or not, sometimes to the detriment of his company (too bad, Rock).

That was then. And this is now.

Reading, listening, watching, thinking. As I've gotten older and experienced more, something has continued to bug me. How equal is equal? And what exactly do pundits mean when they claim they seek equality? Black civil rights activists have fought being singled out in a negative way in favor of being singled out in a positive way. But why be singled out at all? In an effort to foment inclusion, activism has perpetuated exclusion, even separatism. There was a time when the black community in this country had to band together and toot their own horn because no one else would. But in this day and age, why is it okay to have 'black' colleges, or 'black' night clubs, or 'black' TV shows? If an institution openly touted itself as being 'white', they'd be considered racist. When blacks do it, it's socially acceptable as 'black pride'.

I'm not saying that prejudice doesn't still exist. I'm not saying that there isn't still work to be done. But how long does the current generation of white people need to be held accountable for what their great-great-great-great ancestors did? How long should black people feel that they're still "owed" something? At some point, a generation needs to say, "Enough."  

Enough with the separatism. Enough with the sense of entitlement. If blacks want to be truly integrated into all aspects of mainstream society, the exclusivity needs to stop. To be clear, my opinion is as an observer and participant, not as an authority. I'm not a journalist or a cultural anthropologist, I'm just a guy who believes a little modernization of the civil rights dogma is overdue. Just as the U.S. Constitution was written nearly 250 years ago and has since been amended dozens of times to address changing times, the thinking of the 60s needs to progress wholly into the current millennium. It's not okay for any group to continue to spout they're own ethnocentric rhetoric in the name of civil rights. Rule of thumb: If any group would be considered racist for saying something, no one else should say it either.

Rosa Parks fought for her own seat, not her own bus.