THE LONG & SHORT OF IT

The great enemy of the truth is very often not the lie -- deliberate, contrived, and dishonest -- but the myth -- persistent, persuasive, and unrealistic. John F. Kennedy

There are certain phrases that on the surface seem fairly normal, but in your lifetime, you’ll never hear them uttered aloud. Phrases like “hand me that piano;” or “you know, I never realized how cute Flava Flav was,” or “I think Sarah Palin would make a great tutor.”

Recently, a friend in Atlanta called me and said, Ray!!!! Have you heard the news (blah, blah…..and on the call went for what seemed like an hour); finally she paused long enough to say: “Man, poor Eddie Long!!” I thought, hmm, I never, ever thought I’d hear a member of New Birth say that. In fact, that goes against the very foundation of their recruitment process. I believe that team will probably be dusting off their résumés real soon.

CNN’s: Sexual Molestation by a Decatur Pastor: “breaking news” headline didn’t seem that “breaking” or “news” worthy to me – especially after my phone call the night before.

.


However, given society’s level of intellectual engagement, my CNN assessment isn’t even newsworthy anymore either.



There are a few things in life worst than:

a) Being accused of a sadistic act you didn’t commit. Or
b) Abuse of power. Or
c) Not experiencing the benefit of the doubt for either.

For over 20 years, I’ve lived less than 5 miles from New Birth Missionary Baptist Church in Lithonia, Georgia and I don’t mind saying Eddie Long was part of the reason I chose Lithonia to reside. I moved from the Bronx, NY to Decatur, GA., mainly to own some land -- but more importantly, I wanted to literally build a community! I wanted to take some land, build a house on it; hopefully surround myself with like-minded neighbors/friends; and circulate our dollars more than 10 times before it fell into the hands of community oppressors.

[Don’t worry they know who they are, even if you don’t].

Now, don’t get me wrong, I love New York (hence my temporary residency in Queens Village now). But New York City just isn’t the type of place to actually build a new community. The only thing new in New York is the growing number of people wondering will there ever be a middle class again?

The first Saturday, after my move to Decatur, Ga., my cousin took me to the South Dekalb Mall.

My first reaction was, WOW, I wonder who is sponsoring this weave-a-thon? Then I realized oh, it’s just Saturday in the Deep South. Fun though.

After a half-hour of watching people purchase things they don’t need, with money they don’t have, to impress people they don’t like,

I went outside for some much needed air – again something the Bronx summers didn’t offer enough of.




When I got outside, there was a cat standing next to a black, dark-tinted, sweet, wide-bodied S-600 Benz-O. The whip, windows and wheels were wiped project clean – underlined with some deep-dished, chromed rims (hey it was 1990). The paint was just glistening – so much so that it was hard to directly stare at it – counter to the owner’s purchasing goal, I’m sure. I am a huge fan of clean cars no matter what the make, but clean foreign cars always seemed real cool to me. So, despite the shine, I stared endlessly until this cool-looking cat popped out – leaving the doors open wide enough to hear the instrumental version of Rob Base’s “It Takes Two.” I didn’t really know how much I missed New York until those doors opened. Man.

The dude that pimped out of the ride was wearing a fuzzy Kangol cap (turned to the back), a black ADIDAS jogging suit and matching shelled-toes. I thought oh, he must be here for the weave-a-thon too. Nice whip though.

My cousin finally came out of the mall and walked up to the Benz driver and dapped him up. I thought, hmm, my cousin doesn’t have a weave. When we headed to her dirty Toyota Camry, I asked, “Who was that guy you greeted?” She said, ALL IN ONE BREATH, “Oh, that’s Eddie Long, he’s the fabulous preacher at New Birth Missionary Baptist Church, they have 3,500 members and it’s around the corner from the house, he’s really cool, he’s great, smart, funny – and you’ll like him because he does wonderful work in the community.”
I thought:

a) Man that was a long sentence.
b) Who knows the exact head count of a church they don’t attend? And why?
c) He probably had nothing to do with building this mall.
d) My cousin, who just spent $200 in a marbled-floor flee market knows an activist?

The activist thought is the only one that lingered in my brain until the next day.
On that day, I got dressed and went to New Birth – probably more out of suspicion than salvation, but I have since repented for that choice. After the 30-minute recital from the largest choir I had ever witnessed, the Benz cat from the day before strolled on stage to a Prince-like ovation – really, prince as in royalty, not artist. In either case, I’m not real sure Jesus was ever this popular. Long spoke for about an hour and while I don’t really remember the topic or message, it was truly entertaining, sort of like Prince (the artist), not royalty.




It took Coretta Scott-King’s death to get me to attend another service at New Birth; not surprising, since all of my appearances on earth can be neatly traced to activism.

The TRUTH: It may not lead you to where you thought you were going, but it will always lead you somewhere better. When ignored, it will eventually show itself. The closeness of your relationships is directly proportional to the degree to which you have revealed the truth about yourself. It can be painful.

My cousin was right, through my years in Lithonia, Long was credited with a great deal of the “happenings” in the Lithonia community – most of which are free or of a minimal charge. Long’s outreach is well-noted: He’s funded private businesses, offered countless professional workshops, health and sports initiatives, limo services, restaurants, political podiums, Lisa "Left Eye" Lopes' funeral service, concerts featuring: Mike Phillips, Rachelle Farrell, Bebe & Cece Winans, Fred Hammond, and the ever-popular, annual Fourth of July fireworks show.

Oddly, it’s the alleged fireworks of a sexual allegation involving two boys (and former members) that has the community reeling about the fate of Bishop Eddie L. Long. The reaction has been as predictable as a holiday sale. The members (that I spoke to) said they are standing behind their pastor. Non members are saying this is one of the many worldly reasons they would NEVER join New Birth. Few have given any unsolicited thought to the boys –whom quite frankly (whether innocent or guilty) will never be the same. One current member told me, I need you to pray for my Bishop – note the possessive term. I wonder if that ownership will be there if Long is actually found to be culpable?

I asked my friend just that…, what if he’s guilty? She said, I never thought of that... – then he’s really going to need your prayers. I thought an attorney would be more immediate (which I believe he’s addressed). A prayer for wisdom is where the LONG-term resolution will ultimately end. Or, maybe it’s me praying aloud for this short-sighted community to grow.



1 love,
Ray Lewis

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Fields of Dreams

A pedestal is as much a prison as any small, confined space.
Gloria Steinem

If you would, please take the minute to think about the most demeaning, embarrassing, worthless, humiliating, degrading situation ever bestowed upon you. Take another minute, in fact, take two. Multiply that “situation” by 10! Now, take a knife and drive it through the heart of your self esteem. If you’ve followed this traumatic exercise you are now half way down the dark alley of understanding the psyche of a rape victim. And, no matter how normal a person may appear on the outside, these victims will probably never (fully)recover from this on the inside -- literally.
As horrific a violation as rape is to one’s human rights and dignity; there is a legal aspect that is equally discomforting. And for Ghetto Proverbs regulars – you probably already guessed, this is where our frightening discussion will begin.


Ben Roethlisberger is a 28-year-old player for the famed Pittsburgh Steelers and the youngest starting quarterback to ever win a NFL Super Bowl.
Mike Tyson is a 43-year-old retired boxer and is the youngest undisputed heavyweight champion to ever to win the WBC, WBA & IBF world heavyweight titles – the sport’s Super Bowl equivalent.


If you just landed from outer space, welcome. Please note, there are two sets of laws that govern life in America. There are rules for the rich and rules for the poor. And if you are a highly-compensated public figure, those rules are a tad bit blurry. If you are a highly-compensated white male, that blur is a mirage. If you are a black male, that mirage just became a nightmare. If you are a woman, start packing for outer space.


Roethlisberger and Tyson have more in common than two highly sought-after, highly visible, and highly-compensated sports icons. They both reached their (public) low by raping a woman (in private).

In March 2010, Ben Roethlisberger met a 20-year-old female college student in a nightclub in Milledgeville, Georgia. After a couple of hours (and a few drinks) he was having sex with her in the club’s bathroom, while his bodyguards manned the door -- manned being the operative word.


In July 1991, Mike Tyson met an 18-year-old female beauty queen at a pageant in Indianapolis, Indiana. Later that evening the woman graciously accepted a chauffeur-driven limousine ride to Tyson’s hotel room. After her arrival (roughly 1:36am), the two had sex, while Tyson’s bodyguard manned the door -- manned being the operative word.



The spectators’ accounts leading to both “proceedings” are almost as unbelievable as the [eventual] outcome. Roethlisberger’s on-lookers flagged Ben’s vile, contemptible, and intrusive in nature; while Tyson’s observers applauded his very candid, explicit, straight-forward “goal(s).” Both playas had their share of tainted off-the-field incidents, but nothing close to rape.

The college student and the beauty queen both filed rape charges; after unveiling horrific accounts of their respective recollections. For their “participation” Ben got community service, while Tyson got 10 years – or one year for every hour the jury deliberated. Tyson was released after serving three years...




... perhaps one year for every side to a story.







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1 love,
Ray Lewis

The Rebirth of a Nation

And in the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years. Abraham Lincoln

It’s a warm, moist, muggy pre-summer afternoon weekend in Atlanta. Naturally, the malls are predictably packed with a high degree of traffic searching for non-essential items to add to Visa’s very essential assets.

And, so goes a nation once built to lead; now struggling to follow, and teetering in the final stages of irrelevance. America’s reality is being swallowed in a flat-screen of scripted, high definition reality. Entertainment is being masked as news and [would-be] news journalists are being assigned to chase kids hiding in air balloons; or finding Tiger Woods’ “playmates,” or hyping American Idols – the latter being the saddest of oxymoronic. Meanwhile “Rome” is burning in a blanket of apathy stitched by a pyromaniac. How on (what’s left) of the earth did we get here?

Charred are the IBMs of the American fabric. Imploded is the once-leading car manufacturer, General Motors. Grounded is wing-less United Airlines. Exploded is the World Trade Center. And, while the rubble is gone, the rumblings remain. What were once financial staples in the world’s fabric of business is now an ad-hoc of infamous mergers and emerging uncertainties.



I truly believe that America’s deepest desperation has reached record proportions and the voices of reason are drowning or being sponsored by bloody oil spills. The growing gap of “who matters,” “who cares,” and “who’s left” is widening with every corporate merger – which increases the triage of the unemployed.

America’s triangular structured wealth chart is getting pointier and the circular vision of saving the poor is spinning endlessly in a shore of political pessimism. Entertainment isn’t even entertaining anymore. Bands are synthetic replications birthed from an expensive suit. Movies are 3-D sequels of the top box office receipts from the week prior, while sports are the real estate version of “Let’s Make a Deal” or “Pin the Tail on the Lebron."

The question atop of the “100,000 Pyramid” is, who is going to step to the podium of truth and justice? Who holds the band-aid to impartiality? Who? When is greatness going to ignite this new millennium and save our souls – or (at the very least) resurrect soul music? You know…, there was a time when the former provoked the latter.



Where is King’s DNA? I still see his bloody murderers – in fact, Barack is perched at the tip of their organizational chart. How’s that for irony? Who is going to reveal the mask of perception and plow the road of redemption?

Naturally, Jesus could, but half of His so-called followers would probably be conflicted if His attire was too casual when He returned. Again.

Barack could – and there are more than a handful of "his" citizens that believe Obama is doing all he can right now -- especially given his “inheritance.” I interpreted that as a rosy-colored no! The fact that a LARGE portion of his blueprinted campaign strategy was funded, designed and filed in the board rooms of British Petroleum…, well, you just have to question that silly, unrealistic optimism. Instead of putting my faith in the hands of people that continue to defecate on my head, while calling it fertilizer… I (instead) turn to the largest force on earth; the force of which they’d be no earth. I call on the woman -- mother of earth.



Now I know that most women don’t even like women…, but this rebellion is different. I know no one has been more marginalized, abused, misunderstood, and mistreated than the very species that breathes daily life into the world in nine month intervals. I know being a mother, wife, or First Lady is one of the more thankless jobs on earth (you can search the Bible for further confirmation).
Sadly, aside from Mother’s Day and the occasional “Hi, Mom” from an attention-deprived athlete; what universal honor can woman hang her hat on? In fact, this sexist nation isn’t even courageous enough to elect a female president. History has proven some of the world’s greatest decisions are made with the total exclusion of women, yet women are always there to wipe the tears of their fallen counterparts.
It is for these reasons (and so many other untold ones) that women should conspire to change the world… literally.

No society can exist without the strength, love, charm, compassion, birth canal or maternal instincts of a woman.

So, here’s the plan.

What do you think would happen if women banded together and stopped having sex with men for one year? Bedroom Boycott -- the headlines would read. [At times the media can be so creative].

Never let a problem to be solved become more important than the person to be loved.
-- Barbara Johnson

Clearly, the violence would be immediate and constant – as is often the case with powerful movements. The birth rate would decrease – and it probably should. Men would be more hostile than their typical dented car rage. I think some women would be angry too. However, this band would be the most extreme action since Christ left – and most have forgotten His sacrifice - or don’t believe it ever happened. This call to "non action" would spark a refresher course in the religious dialogue – which is probably necessary too. In fact, this “boycott” may spark some real redemption.

Maybe.

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1 love,
Ray Lewis

Sade's Back

After 3,700-plus days Sade has emerged with (yet) another 10-track similarly smitten, silky-smooth, soulful addition to her well-documented and storied catalog. After months & months of rumors, gossiping word-on-the-streets and the ever-present, calculating, “industry leaks,” Sade’s “Solider of Love” officially dropped today..., just in time for Valentine's Day. I’ll be honest, I like it. The new joint is cool – especially given the other iTunes options.

In the interest of full disclosure, I jumped on the “industry leak” bandwagon [courtesy of my underground cohorts, Cy Prince and Lamar Hawkins and Tony Tone]. I have been spinning "Moon to the Sky" for a couple of weeks and it is officially my favorite on the LP. I think the CD is real cool and no matter how long its been it's tough not to yearn for a Sade project. That said, I’d really hoped that she stepped out of her legendary, safe haven and unleashed a CD that would've thrust her one-named status to record heights (if you pardon the pun). After all, isn’t that the true essence of growth?

Whether you be man or woman you will never do anything in this world without courage. It is the greatest quality of the mind next to honor. -- James Allen

I need that growth and courage from her. The souring, close-minded domestic industry needs it. Radio (among MANY other things) needs it. And quite frankly, I think Sade needs it too. I’m not so sure that this soon-to-be-awakened, 4G networked society is willing to wait another 10 years for [yet another] monotone, roll-out-of-bed, bouncing-balled liner note, sing-a-long from the industry’s most-noted and illusive mystery star. At this point, I would settle for a Sweetback backing. Or, what about a cool, “summer night” collaboration with Maxwell – he may need that too! I mean is delightful dubbing with D’Angelo too much to ask?



What about collaborations with the likes of: Jose James, Shaun Escoffery, Aya, Jonathan Butler, Wax Poetic, or the British Soul Wonder, Omar? (As if you didn't see that suggestion coming!)

I know its Sade “safe” to avoid any musical departures that could possibly tarnish her tabloid-free career. However, isn’t the opposite true as well? If Sade went out on a limb and did a live set with the Roots’ band circled behind her and a host of soul singers like: Erykah, Rahsaan Patterson, Roy Ayers, Lizz Wright or even a now watered down Jill Scott... I'd pay to see that. Wouldn't you?


I think a show along those lines would elevate her embolic career. Quite frankly, at 51 years of age there isn’t much (I feel) Sade can do this side of a T-Pain duet that will remotely smudge her divine and limelight-less career.

If you like Sade, pick up “Soldier of Love” you'll love this one too. However, if you like change, you may have to wait another decade. Maybe longer.


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1 love,
Ray Lewis