Life After Harpo (Run On)

Many years ago, when I was younger, less pessimistic, and even more obnoxious, the local black newspaper decided that I, along with some other black students in the area, was respectable and scholarly enough to feature in its annual round-up of ostensibly intelligent high school seniors.  Someone called a friend and me to the guidance counselor's office and gave a us a form to complete; it featured the typical set a questions one might ask a seventeen-year-old: favorite subject(s), college choice, future aspirations, etc.  Outside of  one genuinely nice thing about a mentor, Mrs. Patterson, the answers to my questionnaire could have been surmised for what it was: a load of uninspired teenage crap, including the "Oprah Winfrey is my hero," stock answer.


Like any child of parents who worked full-time, I was often babysat by old people and television.  As such, Oprah was part of my weekday afternoon ritual.  (Yes, I'm continuing with the ritual theme--again).  I'd come home from school, plop myself in front of Nannie and Papa's television, and catch the last half-hour of The Young and the Restless while I did my homework.  Then, we'd catch Oprah at four.

Once I moved to Chicago I started watching Oprah every morning.  As a hater, it's important that I begin each day with a certain degree of disdain for the world, and I find an hour of The Oprah Winfrey Show does the job.  Yet lately, the disdain I feel while watching has been replaced by great sadness, because each morning I remember that this is the final season of The Oprah Winfrey Show.
How I will spend the nine o'clock hour next television  season is beyond me.  I'll face that day when the tears stop.  In the meantime, I'd like to present a list: twenty-five reflections inspired by way too many years of watching The Oprah Winfrey Show.

More on Football Being Just Like America

I've said it before; it bears repeating:  Football is the apotheosis of America(n).  The N.F.L. has decided to start suspending players for excessively violent, helmet-to-helmet hits:

From The Philadelphia Inquirer: 

NEW YORK - The NFL will immediately begin suspending players for dangerous and flagrant hits that violate rules, particularly those involving helmets.

Suspensions will be in place for this weekend's games, vice president of football operations Ray Anderson said Tuesday.

WHIP Season--A Rant (or Something)

Autumn is my favorite season, but it has it's low points.  Last Monday's federal holiday, Columbus Day, is the nation-wide bat signal for America to commence with its annual "We Hate Indigenous People" season.  In other words, Columbus Day marks the moment when that United States raises its middle finger to indigenous people, and doesn't put it down for another six weeks, after Thanksgiving.  We'd continue the gesture, but but the tryptophan makes us sleepy.  Besides, we need our hands for those Black Friday sales.

Iron(y) Mike

Last week, one of the ways I distracted myself from writing my dissertation was by watching a Funny or Die video of Wayne Brady and Mike Tyson reenacting Bobby Brown's "Every Little Step."  It's no Drunk History, but I suppose the video, the latest incarnation of the "Mike Tyson being funny" genre, is worth a chuckle or two.

Every Little Step with Mike Tyson & Wayne Brady from Mike Tyson