Am I the only one who forgot to vote today? I left out the house and wasn’t reminded to vote until I went through the turnstile. Unlike last year, there wasn’t much advertising done in the neighborhood.

After turning on the TV for the weather, you would think that someone would have mentioned something about voting this morning – that wasn’t the case. And now that I’m at work I’m contemplating leaving early to cast my vote.

But here is the deal: I really don’t know who I should vote for. Mike Bloomberg is running, again. Some people don’t care too much for him considering he had to change the law so he can vote again. And then you have Bill Thompson. I’m aware of this dude, but before the election, didn’t care who he was.

Bloomberg hasn’t done a bad job, all things considered. I’m sure some people would like a fresh start and may side with Thompson.

I still am unsure how to cast my vote.

After I left work Wednesday, I went straight to the theater looking forward to seeing Michael Jackson’s This is It. Arriving an hour early so that I can pick my seat instead of being left with slim pickings was my goal. When I arrived to the theater I thought there would be chaos, but that wasn’t the reality. Unlike the last movie I saw, Law Abiding Citizen — for which I had to wait in line, This Is It’s line was not quite as long. The theater it was presented in wasn’t filled to capacity, and was also smaller than I expected. What I should take into account is the frequent showings of the movie — a total of 16. The only sold out showing was for the IMAX version, which only had one showing today. Surveying the crowd, it was pretty clear who the Michael Jackson fans were. From the girl who wore the sparkling glove, to the little kid with the Thriller jacket, or the schoolgirl carrying a backpack with Bad spray-painted all over it — people were showing their love and appreciate for all that Michael Jackson had to offer. Being the first person into the theater, I set my eyes on my prime seating location — square in the middle, in direct alignment with the projector. I was all set for theatrical enjoyment. Now, the previews start. A few spots in, what show is being pimped to the audience? The new Jacksons reality series that will air on A&E. In true ghetto audience fashion, someone bellows “figures they’d try to cash in.” I would have been surprised if the Jackson’s didn’t take advantage of the opportunity to pimp the show — it’s only fitting. Everyone wants to milk the money out of MJ while it still is possible. With everything I’ve read about Michael being too frail to do 50 concerts, let alone 10, is consuming my brain. The movie opens up with some words about the footage being recorded for Michael’s personal collection — and a good thing he did or else I wouldn’t be sitting here now. Note: I don’t recall my complete thought process as it happened in the theater. So I’ll just run through some random stuff that I do recall.

1. When we first start off with his songs I think that he won’t be able to get through any songs, so I can see how he will end up lip syncing through the entire concert. He appears a little out of it — I cannot see him doing this for 50 shows, let alone 10.
2. At some point they go through the audition process and show how much Michael was involved in picking the principal dancers.
3. By the time we get to Human Nature Michael appears a lot more emotional. My friend thought that Michael might have forgotten the lines. I believe he is remembering something and is working through the pain of his own thoughts. Either way, it was the one time during the movie that I felt like I wanted to shed a tear. It was just a powerful moment — I could only imagine what he was feeling at that moment.
4. I Can’t Stop Loving You is one song I’ve always appreciated. I like Siedah Garrett and how she meshed with Michael. However, the backup singer, Judith Hill, who is paired with Michael leaves much to be desired. I’m sure she must be nervous and all but she needs to get over all that. Sing the damn song, shine.
5. You’ll laugh more than a few times during this movie. There is a point where Michael is talking to one of the musicians and dude tells MJ that a sound check is needed. Dude tells Michael that he wants it to sound the way he think Michael needs to hear it. Michael responds back with words that amount to “I want it to sound the way it was written to sound.” (not exact quote, but you have to see it to understand) Michael Jackson’s humor is in full swing, along with his talent.
6. It is clear that Michael knows what he wants in a show. When he points that finger with the tape on it in a particular direction or makes a movement in a particular way you better move, and you better know it’s for you. But by all means, please know that he is making that movement and giving you direction, “with love.” L-O-V-E
7. Words like ’sizzle’ and ’simmer’ take on a whole knew meaning. The director tried to correct Mike on a movement and Michael said that he wanted the moment to sizzle. He directed the band to take time and let the moment simmer. He commands the stage and rehearsals in such a way that you can only give him what he wants, creatively. It was great to see this side of him.
8. Michael comes off funny, caring, emotional — human.
9. No Moonwalk. What gives?

I need to cut this post short. It basically comes down to this… Michael Jackson, is a lot much older and a little more stiff than he used to be. However, the magic that he has always brought to the stage was still there. His passion for his craft, the genius that created the music, and the love of performing was clear and well represented. THIS IS IT is a concert I would have never seen in an arena, but if you ever liked to see Michael Jackson perform this movie isn’t to be missed.

After being conned out of my phone number, we finally had a chat.

He is so very French.  I’ve been a Francophile for as long as I can remember.  I love the sophistication of the sounds, how the words curl off my tongue and kiss my lips from the inside out – just mind blowing.  The only question left to answer was if he was just as loveable in person.  We agreed to meet on a snowy afternoon in Central Park.  If it was good, we could make snow angels; if it was bad, I could walk away with my pride intact and a butt-load of words for Mr. SUN-shine.

I came out of the train station and hurried over to the statue hoping that a pleasant surprise awaited me –

Hmmm, he’s probably not a mime; and if he was. . .  NEXT

Is he the one hawking the hot dogs? Or the one selling the over replicated photographs or did I just get stood up?  Hmmm – that mime is starting to look appetizing with his cute silver painted self. . .

My phone rings!

Him: I can see you

Okay (long breathe) – this is sounding like some true to life stalker type shit.  If I continue talking to him, I run the risk of being scooped up by a wacko –

But, I figured that if he was a friend of SUN-shine, he can’t be all that bad.

Me: Okay, how is it I can’t see you, but you can see me
Him: walk towards the corner and I’ll be waiting there
Me: Okay this sounds like some James Bond Type shit

Him: Maybe it is…

I walk toward the corner, still talking to him on the phone and a black car pulls up in front of me and he says “get in” – so I did.

Leaned back in all black, both the car and him — the neon lights sputtering from the stereo, he had to sweetest smile i’d ever seen.  Like the Cheshire grin, waiting to bust.  I was blown away by his innocence — more of a gentleness that lived inside his body.

We exchanges pleasantries and commented about the music on the radio and smiled.  He talked to me about working around surgical trays all day long and I told him a bit about me, more than I usually would – more than comfortable enough to make snow angels with him.

Month after month, I grew to get use to seeing him on Tuesdays and Fridays; talking to him about life, the struggles of raising his daughter from afar, the struggles of elder care, being the primary go-between doctors or supermarkets or any other need or want in his mother & grandmother’s life leaving only a sliver of time to smile for himself.  I found myself fighting an uphill battle.  As much as he seemed to want to see me, the heavier his burden became.  Phone calls became replaced with text messages – not so bad, at least he’s still communicating…

The thought of running for second behind mother and grandmother – if you put them together as a collective package, it wasn’t so bad.  Then he hit me with the daughter reality and as loving as I have the capacity to be, that’s a lot of women to have to satisfy.

I’m a chick! I finally admitted this to myself the other day when I looked at my painted toes in oohs and aahs — smiles ear to ear.  Us women, as much as we are nurturers and lovers, we need to be loved too — to feel wanted and valued. So at the pace I was running — with 30 pounds of baggage to have to rustle through to find the real him — he’d be old and gray before he would even have the time to look my way.  I want love like everybody else, but he isn’t worth that type of wait.

So the answer to the riddle — What comes after Bronze?

Patience.

P.S. and a good dildo. . . (LOL)

Some conversations cannot be missed when you are in close quarters with people. As I turned my iPod off, I ended up hearing, “it was deliciously awesome.” I wasn’t sure what the person was referring to but I knew I had to find out. It was later learned that she was talking about cupcakes. Deliciously awesome cupcakes started to consume my brain. I’ve been on this eat this, not that kick lately and have been limiting my junk food intake — so the thought of consuming some deliciously awesome cupcakes sounded mighty nice.

But I couldn’t get past the phrase, ‘deliciously awesome’ — It just kept ringing in my head. It sounds better than ‘Magically Delicious’ and ‘mouth watering’.

Later that day, the same girl who was talking about those ‘deliciously awesome’ cupcakes brought some in for all to share. They offered me one, which ended up being four in total.

The cupcakes were not only deliciously awesome, but awesomely delicious.

Speaking of fat thoughts…

I was in the gym the other day – in my zone, getting my work out on — and noticed some dude standing a few feet away from me, watching me. Once I finished my set, I stopped and turned in his direction. He wanted to ask for my advice on the lat pull down machine. With his heavy accent (which I could not place for the life of me) his voice boomed across the room, capturing everyone’s attention in the immediate area. Pointing to the lat pull down machine, he wanted to know which exercise would be best, pulling the bar in front of your head or behind.

My thoughts: I’m not expert. I cannot tell you what works best for you. There are plenty of people with shirts marked trainer on the back of their shirts. A number of people in the gym are not only fit, but also twice the size of me and appear to know a lot more about this stuff than I do. Why you want to ask me for advice? And why did you take me out of my zone for such a question? There is a diagram on the side of the machine Follow it!

Fitness isn’t new to me though. I’ve been doing it for quite some time and play coach, mentor and adviser to a number of people that I know that require guidance and a motivating person in their life. I play that part for them, because I’m awesome like that. LOL

I eventually answered his question. However, it didn’t go without the ‘regulars’ of the sports club giving me a WTF look.

With the quickness, I fell right back into my routine thinking about those four cupcakes I ate earlier and realized I needed to complete five miles before I made my exit for the evening.

Music is as subjective as ice cream, we all have a flavor that resonates with us, whether it’s deep rich chocolate blues or a nutty flavored Amaretto.

I was assigned the task to review Ms. Taylor’s new album and at first I was hesitant — not wanting to say the “wrong” thing, but as I thought about it, there is nothing “wrong” with my opinion.

For an debut album that has garnered buzz by Billboard Magazine, AP and People magazine, I was expecting more — more originality, more variety or even a concrete sound to define her, but I couldn’t put my finger on any of those things.   For me to want to place my hands in my pocket and plunk my hard earned cash on a piece of art, I want to be moved or at least find half of the songs on the album appealing enough to listen to voluntarily. . . this album isn’t it.

As singers, we pattern ourselves off of our idols — listening to their delivery, cadence and style, but the mark of a successful singer is bridging the gap between you and your influences and right now I don’t know who she is. Ms. Taylor’s sound seems influenced by Natalie Imbruglia, Corrine Bailey Rae, Lisa Loeb and the laid back sound of the early 1990’s — guitars and light string backings and soft rock influences.  She has a catalog of riffs and sound that are lost in the 90’s.  She is led by the music instead of moving with it.  The songs have abrupt resolutions, unclear song structure and no climax leaving the listener stranded wondering why the end came so quickly or if I actually missed something.  Each song sounded the same, like one long soundtrack without differentiation.  The question is: Is that good or bad?  We come from a generation that seems hell bent on being an individual — no matter how much one makes an ass out of themselves.  So, is monoton

Whether you’re a single person or in a relationship, being friendly or cordial with someone who likes you shouldn’t be a task. However, it can actually be hard to deal with someone on a friendship basis, when they have feelings that go beyond a platonic friendship.

It strikes me as funny how people can be so kind and endearing when they see an opportunity to find a certain place in your life, but as soon as you find out the true nature of the “friendship” and lay the cards out on the table, the entire situation shifts.

Now, prior to you knowing how this person felt about you, you may have been blind to how they may have felt, maybe even naive. One thing that’s for certain is, you considered this person only to be a “friend” or “associate”.

Although you know how this person feels, attempting to keep this person in your life can make things difficult. However, it shouldn’t be. One would think that this person has control over their feelings, yet that isn’t always the case.

This is when you find out that jealousy will come to the surface within your bond with this person. You may even have to deal with wishy-washy personality changes from this person. One day they’re nice, the next they’re not so nice. And the changes are a sure sign that this person cannot deal with the terms and conditions of the bond you two have.

At this point, you must make a wise decision. Is it time to end whatever dealings you have with this person? Or should you continue to deal with the fact that your association with this person is genuinely one-sided on the platonic level?

I can honestly say that when I encountered people in my life who don’t care to respect me or accept where I am in life, I made the wise choice to cut all ties with them.

Though this isn’t always the case with everyone you will meet in life, once you see a problem, take the initiative to do what’s right for yourself. True friends aren’t selfish in the sense of hurting someone who they claim to love or care for.

The starter pistol explodes…

And she’s off ladies and gentleman – that girl is burning that midnight oil: getting to know him, liking him and is ready to give that subtle yet gentle reminder that my pants are already down and I’m waiting for you to notice. . . (circa episode XII) look.

Here’s the big BUT: Why am I playing for fourth place?

I’m not saying that there is anything wrong with fourth, it’s a nice lovely number — edgy and full of wonder, but it definitely ain’t 1st with the gold metal attached or even third with a pretty bronze glint — it’s fourth. . . probably rewarded with Aluminum foil tinsel, malleable but blows in the wind.

So here’s the scoop on fourth —

So hard at work, as always, and one of the boys, ‘ol boy SUN-shine, calls me over to the coat room for a secret chat. All types of random thoughts enter my mind: Who broke it? Who stole it?

Why ya’ll telling me? I don’t provide alibis!

But like a puppy, I go and find out. So SUN-shine tells me in a Russian accent (no you can’t make this stuff up folks)…

SUN-shine: You are being watched (and then begins to giggle).

Now if that ain’t ’bout the craziest thing I heard all day. So with that as my introduction, I have no choice but to continue this. So SUN-shine tells me about a friend of his who came to visit him at work, saw me and asked him to make the introductions. Was I flattered? Immensely. But I was more wigged out. I mean, I see thousands of people everyday on my way to and from work, so who the hell knows what loony-bin had made eyes in my direction and has decided to claim me as his long lost WO-MAN.

Me: Okay sweetie, spill it – what you got cooking up?
SUN-shine: Nothing – just give him a call, he wants to talk to you. Give him a chance; I’ll vouch for him.

So the only reason I decided NOT to call was ’cause I thought that was the craziest thing I’d ever heard; on the other hand I didn’t throw away the number ’cause if this guy is willing to vouch for his friend that hard, then he can’t be all that bad.

A couple weeks go by and I think no more about it, until…

SUN-shine: Why you not call he?

Aww shit, he’s gone Caribbean on me — damn. Growing up with them, you realize there are two forms of speak — I’m at the house, so the country-ness and fly out or I’m in front of company, so I have to make sure I show my best foot – so when SUN-Shine caught me with the grassy carib lilt, I felt bad and had to tell the truth:

Me: On the real,  I haven’t gotten around to it. Don’t know what to say –
SUN-shine: It’s alright gal… I give him your number, alright?

Damn! Now I’m stuck. I promised that I would give him a shot, so why not.

Me: Sure.  What could it hurt?

And the race begins.

Three years and one day ago Urban Observation was founded. And so today we celebrate, one day late. Pardon me as I’m on CP Time (explanation below).

With a search for Love from The Orange Phoenix, insights and reflections of life from the mind of Dan-Sean Mankind — whom both contribute great poetry — we try to share our life experience with the world outside our world.

It is the three of us that make up this site, along with the audience (our readers) that keep it going.

I know I’m a day late on posting about the anniversary but I was preoccupied with my offline life — which isn’t where I would like it to be but I’m staying on course to get it to where it needs to go. But that is another story all together and unfitting of this post.

So on this I thank all of you for joining us from post to post, no matter how long you’ve been reading; and hope that you continue to join us as we continue on our journey.

Time waits for no one and that is oh so explicitly clear as I hear my biological clock “tick tock” louder than the ocean. Not saying that the ocean noise isn’t lovely and all, but hot diggity.

It seems that marriage is all around me — everyone I know is either shacking up, thinking about shacking up or glistening from the glow of shacking up.  It’s a new position to be in — the outsider looking in; not the outsider part, but the fact that I want into the the game the masses are playing:

(Cue the romantic music, the flowers budding and the aromatherapy smoke curles)

So I’ve always prided myself on being on the outskirts of the madness, walking to the beat of my own drummer — not cause its different, more because it felt like the natural direction to go.  But I’ve noticed myself staring at couples and then looking away because I don’t feel privy to it — a door with one of those hard core titanium locks that you have to pay 10 dollars and show ID to get the key made…

I feel like that.

There is nothing as natural as falling in love, watching it in bloom and smiling, but I realize that the smiles of admiration are becoming smiles of longing.

From what I’se done heard, everyone goes through this faze — either some sort of anger or disgust being around couples, running from the inevitable… settling down — The hammer!  I remember a time when love use to be the air I breathed — the want to meet someone, love them, and be there… but between all of that running around like a crazed loony tune I forgot to take care of myself, discover the things that make me special.

So here I am… a between a brick wall of security or the fantasy of moving on and living my dreams.

So more and more I’ve been feeling a call to the road — some sort of great American rediscovery.  And yes, only here is it acceptable to drop everything and “find yourself”.  I’ve always been a wanderer at heart — wondering what’s on the other side of the bend and will cross hell and high water to find it, sniff it in my hands and try to learn from it.

As wild as it may seem, living on the road is a calling.  I’ve perfected the tightest army roll known – taking a week’s worth of clothes and other girlie gear in a small duffel – the sleeping on a plane thing I’m still working on; hence, MORE reason for me to fly the coop.

It’s like the door has magically swung open to a world away and I’m suddenly hungry to see what’s out on the other side.

But can I forgive myself enough to walk out the door into a new world and leave the faded love haze behind and embrace the crisp air awaiting?

Guess we’ll find out.

The following text is to be considered a steady stream of conscienceness. Any grammar or spelling errors should not be excused, as this has not been looked over by an editor or revisited by its author. That being said… Let’s get down to the post.

I pretty much don’t care about what I put on in the morning, just as long as it is clean is all that matters. Now, I am conscience that you have to coordinate to a certain extent, just not too far off the wall that you bring too much unwanted attention to yourself. But some attention just happens because people feel invited to speak to you regardless to what type of mood or manner that you may, yourself, be in.

Yesterday, I was riding the elevator with one of my folk. Now, when I ride the elevator with certain people we get to conversing, this day was no different. We were having a relatively mellow conversation. One stop after the other, the elevator starting to fill up. That didn’t deter me from continuing with my conversation. As people boarded, other folk boarded the elevator people started to chat amongst themselves.

As I was about to get into a joke with my companion, someone decided to turn their attention toward me. And it went something like this as he turned his attention in my direction.

Dude: Can I ask you a question?

I sized dude up. I looked him up and down and tried to go through my memory bank and started to play match game. He fit no one I’ve ever spoken to or recognized from anywhere.

Me: Sure.

Dude: Do you always match your sneakers with your shirts?

I look at my companion, she looks back at me. I look around the elevator, all eyes on me. This is what I consider unwanted attention. The smart ass in me wanted to know if dude sees me every day and took notice or is he just looking at me for the first time and making an assumption.  But I try to keep things civil and professional. You have to also keep in mind that it is summer, my job has no dress code, so I can wear what ever I want.

Me: For the most part.

Finally, we reached the bottom level and we all depart the elevator. I told my companion that was weird and went on my way.