Posted on January 23, 2012 by hilarious tubman

We Have Better Stories To Tell

Posted on November 2, 2011 by hilarious tubman

From time to time I make ‘TP’ jokes poking fun at Tyler Perry and I think you think I’m just doing it to be mean. You’re kinda right but I mostly poke fun out of pure frustration. I’m the target when I make these comments, though. Were we to ever speak, within the first 5 minutes of our conversation, you’d know that “I ain’t from roun’ here.” So when I begin to chastise the hot pile of poo that are TP movies, I’m quickly dismissed. Surely, someone whose subjects and predicates are in agreement can’t keep it real, is bougie or just flat-out hating – right?

I liken the depth and breadth in TP movies to the hard-nosed journalism found in a copy of a USA Today located in the lobby of a Comfort Inn in East Point, Georgia. (There’s a great story there, by the way.) We all (should) know the span and reach of the black – shit, human! – experience goes far beyond what he shows us and this movie is indicative of my point.

The movie was released earlier this year and I’m stalking my Netflix instant queue hoping it will appear soon. I can’t wait to dive into the Kimani Maruge‘s life, if by only means through film and briefly.

What do you think?

My Mother is Pepe Le Pew

Posted on October 26, 2011 by hilarious tubman

Getting calls from my recently retired mother is tricky. 1. When she asks where I am, she has no concept of the following words – “I’m at work.” Furthermore when asked if I’m busy, my answer (Yes!) in no way deters her from continuing to say what she called to say. 2. She can not hear a word I say. Old ears, I guess. Well – that, and I’m a fast talker. 3. She has the most delicious, syrupy-thick Haitian accent you’d every hope to hear – something like Pepé Le Pew goes to the Ivory Coast. She makes the most mundane words sound new. She forces you to re-imagine every syllable and hearing every word out of her mouth is an adventure.

She pronounces most words correctly but others – well, it takes a trained ear and knowing her for a while to figure out what she means. I could delight in listening to her all day but for her, her accent has been a source of frustration and historically embarrassment. Back home can be tough but was even tougher in the 70s/80s. So, to improve her English and overall language skills, she’s decided to take ESL classes at the local community college back home.

Cute, right? Not so much. She’s constantly trying to get me to do her homework in the (not so) slickest way possible.

(Random Wednesday, Arbitrary Month and Date, 2011 in the year of our Lord at 11:32 am Eastern Standard Time)

Her: Where aaare you?

Me: Work.

Her: Aaare you beezey?

Me: Yes.

Her: Look….I huff a quest-chun for you. Why ease it goood to leave in America? I poot dow-en that dare ease opportunity and freeedim. What elle-se?

Me: The American Dream is propaganda.

Her: Eh?

Me: Nevermind.

I gave her some canned answers that her teacher would appreciate and we talked about writing supporting sentences and proper conclusions. I essentially dropped whatever I was doing just to hear how much she’d learned about English that I kinda just take for granted. I miss her right now and sometimes call with nothing to say. She’s usually busy planting flowers or something when I call, but I don’t care. I just keep talking.

Stay tuned though. Her mead-terms are coming up.

File Under: Glad This Ain’t Me

Posted on October 24, 2011 by hilarious tubman

Silver linings are everywhere, folks. In the midst of a hellish Monday work morning is this: A FedEx agent whose name so closely resembles a brand of processed cheese product that when called Velveeta, she must then correct the speaker with an even stupider name that sounds like a lady part.

I’m sorry, Velvetta.

Truly Respecting Nature Means Not Fucking With It

Posted on July 23, 2011 by hilarious tubman

I just saw Deliverance last night. It was in my Netflix queue for a while and was promptly removed once I recorded it on my DVR. Fortunately, I recorded a version with commercial interruptions because parts of the movie were so intense, I watched them between my fingers. Quite frankly, I needed the break. I have some very important take-a-way lessons learned from watching but first, a brief letter:

Dear 1972 Burt Reynolds,

My bad! My only remembrance of you is overly hair-dyed, greased up, hanging out with Dom DeLuise in the 80s and something about Florida. Aren’t you from there or something? No matter. The point is that apparently before I was born, you were a half Dominican, half Puerto Rican pimp in a futuristic leather vest and incredibly tight pants and I like it. Now I know why my mother shifted in her seat when she saw you on TV. Nice! What other films did you do that year?

Love,

H. Tubman

For some reason, I confused what I saw last night with Apostle, film about a charismatic Pentecostal preacher with a wandering eye, starring Robert Duvall. I was way off. I kept waiting for Robert Duvall to show up so you can imagine my surprise and the movie unfolded.

Here are my takeaways from the film:

Lesson 1: The guy who is forced to squeal like a pig then gets ass-raped by an indigent, inbred, toothless hillbilly has the first and only vote on what to do with the dead body of said indigent, inbred, toothless hillbilly heretofore termed “Yokel”.

Lesson 2: Never go into the woods. It’s really as simple as that. Anyone who knows me well enough knows that I don’t fuck with nature at all. I yell at pigeons. I think the black squirrels in front of my building are plotting to rob me. (Yes, all of them.) With that all said, I especially wouldn’t invite myself to Nature’s crib and start fucking with it. I think nature knows that if it comes to my apartment uninvited, it’s not leaving alive. Just ask the spider that wondered in here the other day. Well, actually you can’t because he’s dead but you know what I mean. I live here. You live there. Respect.

If you should then willingly go camping or hiking…well then, my friend, that’s on you. What ever happens happens. If you get attacked by a Yokel and he is kilt. See Lesson 1. After you’ve been buggered, I’ll offer platitudes like “I trust your judgement.” and “Only you know what you’re going through.” but I promise you, I’ll really mean it.

Ok. I think we’re good here. I’ve made my points. Good luck out there!

RIP PHOEBE

Posted on April 26, 2011 by hilarious tubman

The Facebook pages of my music snob-y friends are all a-flutter with the passing of Phoebe Snow. I’ve gone through copious amounts of nickel bags and oceans of heartbreak listening to her music. I know it’s cheese ball but the Different World theme gets me every time.

Cat’s Out The Bag!

Posted on March 23, 2011 by hilarious tubman

I’ve known about Yukimi Nagano for a while and I’ve done my part to keep the talents of her group, Little Dragon, well-hidden. I am a self-appointed, unofficial curator of my own cool. The last thing either you nor I want is to hear is a Little Dragon tune being used as a jingle for Apple or Volkswagen ad. And I can totally see that happening, by the way.

But, alas, you can’t keep good things hidden for too long. Little Dragon made their first national television appearance on Jimmy Fallon the other night. And, here they are with the students of PS22. If you’ve haven’t heard of PS22, you really must check out their YouTube Chanel. And, if they don’t make you feel all warm and gushy inside, something’s wrong with you. You’re probably dead inside. Like, seriously.

Let’s Celebrate The “Living”

Posted on March 16, 2011 by hilarious tubman

By now you’ve heard that Nate Dogg died yesterday from complications of multiple strokes. He was just 41. Tributes are pouring out via Facebook and Twitter. I’d wanted to post the Twitter feeds but they were so littered with misspellings, my stomach literally flip-flopped.