My Two Greatest Inspirations

Throughout the course of our lives there will be people that cross our paths who have a lasting and immeasurable effect.  Hopefully for everyone (as it has for me) it starts at home with examples of parents and immediate family members who exhibit strength and character in good times and bad.  I remember recently saying to my mother how much I use to enjoy when she cooked smoked pig tails, string beans and white potatoes for dinner and her response to me was, "girl, we use to eat that because we were broke!"  I was shocked to hear her say that because in my mind, it was just a good meal, I never gave any thought to the economic implications.  But that's what good parents do, they handle their business and try their best to shield their children from life's complexities.

For me, two of my greatest inspirations have been my mother and my late grandfather.  My mother was a young single mother who recognized early on that if she was going to raise me to any amount of respectability, she had to develop a stronger relationship with God, and look to Him for guidance and direction.  She made a vow to Him that if He had given her a job she desired at the Veterans Administration Hospital that she would begin going to church.  He gave it her ,and she honored her word to Him.  So after a more than 30 year career at the V.A.; becoming an ordained preacher and raising a pretty decent kid (if I do say so myself), all turned out well.  My mother is my hero for a number or reasons (which are not limited to but include her work ethic, perserverance, resolve and her no-nonsense approach to nonsensical things), the main one being that she is truly my best example of how to get it right.

Now they say that behind every great man is a great woman, but in the case of me and my mom, the reverse is true because I was beyond blessed with the most wonderful grandfather this world had ever known.  He raised my young mother, and her young daughter and taught us what real men look like and what they don't.  My love affair with my grandfather began at a very early age when, according to my mom, I would never go to sleep until he came home from work (after midnight) and then I would crawl into bed with he and my grandmother.  He would allow me to regale him with stories of how when I was older I was going to make him macaroni and cheese (why mac and cheese?  I don't know, I think I was like 5 years old at the time and it seemed like an extravagant meal).  Through the years he became my best friend, teacher, confidante, advisor and running buddy who could make me laugh like no other.  My world was momentarily shattered at 5:00am on September 5, 1999 when he succumbed to cancer (it was my greatest joy and pain to be with him, holding his hand, as he left this earth).  However, the many life lessons he taught me along the way, which included not settling for less than what I'm worth, are carrying me through all aspects of my life today.  While I miss him terribly, I count my blessings that I had him for as long as I did because what I realized is that, in our brief time together, he imparted more wisdom in me than most people learn in a lifetime.

Losing my grandfather also helped me to appreciate and be demonstrative in showing love to those who are important to me, especially my mom.  Maybe I'll make her a pot of smoked pig tails, string beans and white potatoes and reminiscence about the good old days!

So, that's TarazTake for today, what are your thoughts?

Postseason baseball is here, and it's making me sad

For baseball fans, October is the greatest month in sports.  It means that playoff baseball is here and the best of the best take their game up to another level to be the last team standing.  With my beloved Yankees in the mix and on a quest to repeat asWorld Series champions, I should feel like I'm on top of the world, but ironically I feel somewhat sad.  You see while I'm excited about the possibilities that lie ahead, the reality is that with each passing day in October, it means one less day to the baseball season and I'm going to miss that terribly.  I unashamedly love baseball and no other sport commands my loyalty much the way it does.  I've always said that one of my favorite sentences in the English language is "pitchers and catchers are reporting for spring training" because I know that when I hear that line (in February) it means that baseball is just around the corner and I am locked in!

To be a true baseball fan takes a level of committment unlike any other in sports.  A baseball season is 162 games long and runs from April to October/November (if your team is fortunate enough to make the playoffs) and each game is roughly a three to four hour affair (a good Yankees/Red Sox game is usually a 4 hour contest at minimum).  If you're like me you live and die with each pitch, and with the Yankees playing in the toughest division in baseball, the A.L. East, the games in the beginning of the season are just as important as the ones towards the end.

So why do I find myself so sad?  I think it's because I'm realizing that with each passing day in October it will mark one less day to the baseball season, and I don't want it to be over!  I enjoy this sport so much and I've always felt that it is the smartest of all the major sports.  The psychology involved - manager vs. manager; pitcher vs. hitter; hitter vs. himself, etc. it's a cross between a great prize fight and theater!

Oh well, I guess I'll just have to savor the time I have left and root my Bronx Bombers on to championship #28.

So, that's TarazTake for today, what are your thoughts?

Can you give and receive constructive criticism?

It was about four years ago that I came to the realization that I no longer looked as cute as I once did in shorts.  I use to always think (and pretty much still do) that one of my greatest features are my legs and to hear my grandmother tell it, even as a toddler, my legs were shapely.  So when did the revelation occur you ask?  I was walking in Wal-Mart thinking I was as cute as ever and noticed people looking at me in a way that intimated that they didn't share my opinion.  I then had to have an honest conversation with myself (and a long look in the mirror) to see if shorts were still a viable option and sadly I had to realize that they weren't and not just because I have more girth than I use to, but let's be honest, once you leave your twenties certain things are just not a good look anymore.  It then got me to thinking could I have handled it if someone other than my conscience told me to retire the shorts?  Then, probably not.  Now, I think I would have appreciated the honesty.

I pride myself on being honest and direct, and only offering opinions when asked, but I'm wondering if I'm doing a disservice to my family and friends by not letting them know when I think they are making a misstep.  Something as simple as a poor choice in wardrobe or more significant as a wrong choice that can impact their life greatly is a slippery slope when dealing with loved ones.  I have an 11 year old nephew whom I adore and one of the reasons I do so is that he is very kind and considerate, but also very honest.  He does it in a way that allows you to receive his criticism without being too offended (if I would have ran the whole shorts thing by him, I'm sure I would have stopped wearing them sooner than I did).  I could a learn a thing or two from him.

It's important to surround yourself with people who will love and support you and think enough of you to call you out when you're wrong or won't allow you to make a fool of yourself.  Thankfully, that's the case with me, and so that I don't have to incur their wrath in the future, I vow that everytime I meet up with them I'll make sure that I'm wearing anything but shorts - do you see how cute they are making crops, capri's and pedal pushers these days??!!

So, that's TarazTake for today, what are your thoughts?

It's time to call "The Real Housewives of Atlanta" what it is - Complete Foolishness!

I'll admit that I'm guilty of liking drama just as much as the next person, so I got caught up in the foolishness that is "The Real Housewives of Atlanta."  When the show first aired I was optimistic that we would get some portrayals of classy and sophisticated African-American women on television (in hindsight I have to wonder what I possibly could be thinking!).  From the start you got the feeling that these women were "posers" and weren't really worth the money they wanted us all to believe they had.  After the first season aired, various internet stories began to come out pretty much confirming that these women were not as fabulous as they led us to believe. 

What was more disturbing is that the show seem to celebrate and encourage the fact that one of the women was carrying on an affair with a married man, and that her lifestyle was funded by this relationship - a fact openly known by her two young impressionable daughters.  Between Kim's on and off again "relationship" issues and her unexplainable co-dependent toxic friendship with NeNe, this woman would make any psychiatrist rich beyond measure.  As it relates to NeNe, there literally are no words to describe this woman who is quick to label various people "ghetto," and anyone who watches just one episode of this show will quickly see that this is the proverbial "pot calling the kettle black".  To say she is embarrasing would be an understatement!

So yesterday we got a new season of the show because this ridiculous show is such a ratings juggernaut that Bravo wants to reward us with more of this foolishness.  So what did we learn from the new season: NeNe has taken ghetto to epic proportions; Kim, now apparently bisexual, is "shocked" that her 13 year old daughter (who apparently wasn't taught not to talk while chewing as she continued to have a full on conversation while eating a meal, which was very hard to watch) is interested in aggressively pursuing a boy at school (that apple didn't have far to fall off that tree); Sheree is now acting and "can see herself winning an Oscar"; new cast mate Phaedra never misses the opportunity to let the audience know how much money and possessions she has; and Dwight, is still Dwight.

The thing I find most funny about these "Housewives" is that they go out of their way to brag about what they have, something people with real money would never do.  Announcing that you have a Birkin bag really isn't that impressive especially since we all know that there are places that now lend out designer bags for the posers of the world (wonder if Sheree has an account at "Bag, Borrow and Steal").  I've boycotted the D.C. franchise of this show because of the White House Crashers, and I think I have to give up Atlanta as well, if for no other reason than to try and restore the brain cells I've lost over the years watching this mess.

So, that's TarazTake for today, what are your thoughts?

Why I love New York (and Brooklyn, in particular)

I've always thought that the best line iu a song EVER was when Frank Sinatra sang in his classic hit "New York, New York" "if I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere".  As a born and bred New Yorker (shout out to Brooklyn!), I subscribe to that belief wholeheartedly.  You see, New York has prepared me to handle and face life's various challenges and the curveballs that come along the way.  While the city (Manhattan) helped to refine me, the grittiness of Brooklyn developed me.  It is where I learned how to survive and the value of innovation and appreciating what you have (where else could you learn how to tap into the electricity from a street light to play music for the neighborhood, which we affectionately referred to as "jams").  I also learned how to embrace, understand and co-exist with people from various backgrounds and cultures, which has served me well in my professional life.  What I think I love most about New York, outside of the city's energy, is that everyone is plain spoken and direct and we don't suffer fools (you never have to wonder what a New Yorker is thinking because, more often than not, they will let you know).  We are some of the most honest people you will ever meet!

What is also unmatched in New York, is the overwhelming sense of community.  As sad a day (and the ensuing ones that followed) as September 11, 2001 was, through all of the heartbreak you saw the best of what the city had to offer - the love and compassion of its residents.  There was a sense that we needed to take care of each other and that this wasn't just an attack on our country, but on our beloved city (I still find it hard to believe that the twin towers of the World Trade Center, which so defined one of the most recognizable skylines in the world, are no longer standing).  I wish that everyone who thinks that New Yorkers are rude could have seen how everyone rose to the occassion during this difficult time.  I had never been more proud to be a New Yorker!

While I no longer live in the city, it will always be my home (I tell people all the time "I live in Charlotte, but I'm from New York").  You see there is a certain pride that you have and you poke your chest out just a litle bit when people ask you were you're from because in our minds what we are saying is, "hit me with your best shot because the New Yorker in me has seen it all, done it all, and has survived it all, so bring it on!"

So, that's Taraztake for today, what are your thoughts?

What type of women are men really looking for?

A few years back I was having dinner with a group of ladies and the conversation turned to (as it always does when single women are talking) about what type of women do men prefer?  Is it women with strong personalities?  Ones that are more meek in nature?  What??!!  I get that men are more visual in nature, but I want to give them credit in thinking that they can see past cosmetics to get to the heart of what a person is really about.  What is it that keeps them interested?

Two of us, Alpha females in our own right, began incessantly questioning one of our table mates about her recent blossoming relationship, and secretly wondering why her and not us.  We interrogated her in a way that if Dick Wolf were at the next table listening, he would have instantly offered us roles as detectives on one of his "Law & Order" shows.

Still not having any clear direction after the meal, and thinking that maybe if I toned down my outgoing and gregarious personality, I'd be married in 2.5 years, I went on about my life.  Even after talking to various men, reading books and taking single Sunday School classes, I still have no clue as to what men want!  But before I began making reservations to attend my own pity party, it occurred to me that I have a great number of women friends from various ages, racial backgrounds, shapes and sizes who I think are amazing women and they are all still single!  So I'm left to wonder: if I think we are all incredible and have a lot to offer, why can't men see this as well?  Something can't be wrong with all of us, can it?  But, we're not freaking out because we know that when he comes, he comes and in the meantime we will love, support and encourage each other to continue to be the fabulous women that we are!

So, that's Taraztake for today, what are your thoughts?

The Value of Having Good Sister-Friends in Your Life

Growing up as an only child I never longed to have sisters because what I saw from the women around me who had sisters was a lot of drama.  Someone wore someone's clothes; someone likes someone else's boyfriend; "mom likes you better", blah, blah, blah.  Me?  I had my mother's love all to myself, I got pretty much anything I wanted (which I found out later in life is not always the best thing); and I was spoiled beyond rotten by my grandparents. 

I also never saw the need in having sisters because as an only child, you tend to get adopted by friends with large families.  Growing up in the projects in Brooklyn, NY in the 80's and early 90's wasn't a scary time, as most might think, it was really more of a sense of community.  Everyone looked out for everyone else.  You could stay out to play as long as there was a responsible adult outside or until the street lights came on, whichever came first.  People sort of took a special interest in me because I was a latch-key kid as my mother worked very long hours to make a better life for us.  So I had a host of big sisters, brothers and surrogate mothers making sure that I was taken care of when my mom was working.  While I don't think I took those relationships for granted, I don't think I appreciated the way they helped to form my life.

However, as I grew older, I begin to learn the value of having true "sisters" in your life, women who love you unconditionally, flaws and all.  One of the friendships I value the most is the one I have with my best friend Rockelle.  We've been friends for over 20 years (ever since I gave her an extra minute when I was administering her typing test, which goes to show you how long ago that was because who takes typing tests anymore??!!).  Rockelle is the Louise to my Thelma.  Where my personality is outgoing and gregarious, she tends to be more quiet and reserved; where I tend to say what comes to my mind, she will be more thoughtful and careful in her responses to people.  While I'm an open book, most times, she is very guarded (I often tell her that she is a mystery wrapped inside of an enigma).  Somehow, you wouldn't think these personalites would mesh, but they do.  I think it works because we allow each other to be who we are meant to be, also because she stays clear of me during Yankee games and I return the favor when the Jets are on, and when she hasn't eaten (she is rough when she is hungry!).

So, okay I have Rockelle and that's all I need, right?  Wrong!  I use to say that I have all of the friends I need in my life and then along came these amazing group of women who have become the sisters that God intended for me to have.  They are Tonya, Gail, Tracy and Yvette.  They each add to my life in ways that challenge me to be a better person.  From Tonya's caring heart and endless amount of support to Gail's warmth and loyalty; from Tracy's wise and no-nonsense counsel to Yvette's encouraging and beautiful spirit, I can't imagine a life without them in it, and I thank God that He allowed our paths to cross.  What they also teach me is that you shouldn't be so quick to cut yourself off from people.  To allow people to love you and be there for you in good times and bad. 

I'm thankful that Rockelle, Tonya, Gail, Tracy and Yvette are my bedrocks of strength and I love them all beyond measure.  Men are nice and all, but they come and go.  Sister-friends are forever!

So, that's Taraztake for today, what are your thoughts?