A Good Thing

Singer Rihanna speaking out on 20/20 about domestic violence was a good thing. I've heard a report that many young women called the hot line as a result. I saw the interview and thought that more of Rihanna's answers should have been addressed. However, at least a lot of young girls listened and sought help. That's a really good thing!

My Brother

Periodically this month I will write about some events in my life that to a teenager was traumatic. I will share with you why I love my brothers so much.

When I was in the 10th grade I fell in love with a 12th grader. At that age, I thought it was love but it was a major crush. As I lay in bed crying, my brother who is some years older than I, came into my room to see why I was crying. I told him that Bernard wasn’t noticing me and that I really liked him. He told me to stop crying because I was pretty and that when I was older, Bernard would eventually come around and when he does, you will not want him. As I laid in that bed crying I could not imagine this young man wanting me and me not reciprocating. But as my brother said, he did.

During the summer of my high school graduation, as summer was ending, and I was about to go to college, I went to an end of the summer outdoor gala. Bernard was there looking good as ever. That night I could not lose him. He hounded me all-night and begged for my number. Even though he was fine, handsome and sexy, the thrill was gone.

What I remember most about that night are the words my brother said to me while I lay on the bed crying, “one day he’ll want you and you won’t give him the time of day.” Imagine how my heart smiled that night.

I Love you Chester for taking time to make me feel special and for letting me know that I was still beautiful, even if Bernard didn’t want me when I was almost 16 years-old.

Farewell Friend

I went to visit my seventy-five year-old dad on last Tuesday, June 30. He asked, "You know that guy who can really dance, the one you had all over your walls died."

"You remember that!"

"Yea! You had him everywhere."

We sat in silence. I finally said, when I was 11 through 15 probably even older, I was in love with him."

"I remember all the pictures."

"That hurts," I said.

"That's something," he added.

Micheal was a big part of my life as a teen as he was to most people. I remember the concerts and how my cousin came from Mississippi to attend. Dad bought our tickets and matching clothes for the two concerts I remember attending. (When I find my pictures I will post them)

At one I waited in the back of the Kiel Auditorium and screamed for him. That was a sight to see. Finally the limo pulled out and I stuck my hand through the window grabbing his hair. I was 12. Another teen pulled down her tube top and laid on the front window of the car baring it all.

The newspaper I now write columns for regularly played into my obsessions with Micheal when I was 11. The owners' nephew who was about 15, worked for him. His name was Walter. He always went backstage to most concerts for interviews. He and Micheal became friends. When I was about 13 I could not go to the concert. I don't remember why. But I cried like a sick baby. My brother who was good friends with Walter told him. The night of the concert, Walter called me and let me speak to Micheal. My brother asked him to do it.

Walter was on the local news last week. They sought him out to discuss his friendship with Micheal. It brought the memories back to me.