Exploring the Intriguing
Category: Culture
The face in the mirror
Is black
Not brown or cocoa
Or anything else
The too nice people
Might try to tell me
Since it’s about opposition
And the power of whiteness
The power they validate
By denying it exists
Comes only because I am
And must continue to be
Black
© Gayle Force Press 2003
This summer I told a friend that I couldn't write any more poems about police brutality. So here's an old one.
I wrote this initially in 2002 and when performing in public through the years have changed/updated the names. Mike Brown is only the most recent addition to the litany of blood.
Justified Use of Force
Every year there’s a new one
A Diallo, Bell, Brown or me
Clamoring loudly
Broken faces on TV
We ask so many questions
But no one’s forced to answer
With sympathy’s short half-life
Soon most are hoping for the noise to stop
And the questions to disappear once again
Just like us
In our lives
And our deaths
© Gayle Force Press 2014
The face in the mirror
Is black
Not brown or cocoa
Or anything else
The too nice people
Might try to tell me
Since it’s about opposition
And the power of Whiteness
The power they validate
By denying it exists
Comes only because I am
And must continue to be
Black
© Gayle Force Press 2002
Astonishingly, the Pacers still have a chance to ‘salvage’ this regular season by going on a roll over the last week of the season. (It’s not an accident that Frank Vogel is resting his starters against the Bucks, not the Heat.) Miami has played so inconsistently that they may well follow up last night’s Nets loss with another tonight against the Grizzlies then a third against the Pacers. At the moment, none of those three losses would constitute a shock. The Grizz and Pacers are big enough to have permanent matchup advantages in the paint and, with no Dwyane Wade, in most of the backcourts the Heat trot out. The Pacers might still capture the number one seed in the East.
That possibility misses the bigger point the Pacers (and their fans) have misunderstood all year long. Regular season primacy is not critical! The Pacers didn’t lose the Eastern Conference Finals on a last second shot or because of a controversial call. This wasn’t Hue Hollins giving Scottie Pippen the business back in the day. The Pacers got smoked!! I mean, David West left the court in a huff not just because he was mad but also because he was embarrassed.
The Heat were clearly better. Their epic second quarter would have overwhelmed the Pacers if the game were in Hinkle with Norman Dale patrolling the sidelines. Nothing about that Game 7 should indicate that the building was a critical factor.
During last year’s playoff run the Pacers did very well on the road and missed critical opportunities there. In the ECF, the Heat and Pacers alternated wins throughout. Game 1 was the infamous ‘Where’s Roy?’ game. That was the golden moment the Pacers missed; at the start of the series, not the end.
The Pacers didn’t have homecourt against the Knicks but they stole it by winning Game 1. Taking that edge against a veteran laden team brushed away the taste of the too long Atlanta series and gave the Pacers a real belief they could be special last year. That’s the key thing! The Pacers knew they could beat the Knicks. Then they went out and proved it.
Proving it is always the tough part. I’m convinced that the Pacers season long obsession with homecourt advantage was an act of collective denial. They wanted to be the best team in the East and wanted to make the Finals and wanted to prove that folks like me screaming ‘too soon, too soon’ were wrong. The Pacers wanted those things to be true but I’m not sure they ever believed them.
Being desperate to ensure a 7th game against Miami would be played in the Fieldhouse has sounded to many of us like a problem. At best, it’s a need based opportunity. The Pacers feel they need homecourt to have an opportunity against the Heat. Homecourt is an advantage not a determinant and the Pacers own shared experience means they understand that fact. Arguing that homecourt is critical only until March has come in like a lion and gone out like a Godzilla doesn’t fool anyone. It simply reminds us how odd this particular obsession has been.
All that being said, if this wacky season ends with the Pacers and Heat in a frantic race for the top spot, I will feel better about the playoffs. Not because of homecourt but because it would indicate the Pacers were actually playing well. Playing great basketball is the reason teams win titles, not their arenas and fans. Now is the perfect time to remember that.
Franklin Oliver
© Gayle Force Press 2014
Ok Pacers fans, I think we need to do three things:
Hold on. Relax. Stop Whining.
Better already, right?
Here’s the reality check lots of us need. This Pacers squad has spoiled us. They started spoiling us in the playoffs when they did better than they should have until Game 7 of the Eastern Conference Finals when Miami kicked them in the teeth. That game demonstrated the gulf between the two squads was far greater than we wanted to believe.
They spoiled us much more in the fall. They began the regular season with impressive urgency and success. They believed that they needed home court advantage in the playoffs and took the regular season more seriously than anybody else in the East. That meant their record was fattened on cupcakes and they were very competitive against the best teams in the league too.
Then Paul George took The Leap! and looked like one of the best players in the world. Between his early season prominence and the Pacers record, MVP talk started up. So did the notion that the Pacers should be a title favorite this year. Everyone should remember how silly that notion seemed in the summer when the Bulls, Knicks, Nets and Heat were all in that conversation.
In September, how many of you would have bet money that the Pacers would own the best record in the East? Stop lying. It was me, Jeff McClure and about 12 other diehards. Everyone else got spoiled by the hot start, the national buzz, everyone else’s injuries and how much we like this team.
That’s an underrated factor in all this. Pacer fans finally warmed up to this group after too much hesitation and now we feel let down because this awesome collection of guys might not be the ’85 Lakers after all. Whoops. I mean, ’86 Celtics. I forgot where I live for a moment there. My bad.
All I’m asking is that we stop shouting ICEBERG!! long enough to recognize that this team is way ahead of schedule. The Pacers are also one of the 5 best bets to hoist the Larry O’Brien in June. (I’ll write about how silly NBA trophy names are soon. Easy, awesome fixes.)
For now, let’s enjoy all 82. This is a team that works hard on D, shares the ball on O (sometimes to a fault) and is on course to do legitimately special things. As Pacers fans, we should help them try to spoil us a little more.
Go Pacers!
– Franklin Oliver
It doesn't happen very often that I think the New York Daily News provides an important contribution to the national dialogue but this cover does exactly that. (Please take a moment to look.) Creating an explicit connection between Trayvon Martin and Emmett Till, Michael Donald, Yusef Hawkins and others puts race in the forefront of this situation. Right where it should be.
As hard as it is for some of us to acknowledge, race is the defining element of the Trayvon Martin story. It was race that created the initial decision of George Zimmerman to find Trayvon suspicious and it's race that deeply animated the actions of the police, the broader community, the attorneys on both sides and probably even the jury.
In one sense, this is perfectly clear. Tall, skinny White teenagers like my son just don't frighten grown men. Tall, skinny Black teenagers like Trayvon do. Enough so, that millions of Americans seem to have decided that George Zimmerman undertook reasonable actions throughout his confrontation with Trayvon.
This reality is heartbreaking but not shocking. Not when we take a moment to recognize just how deeply feared and mistrusted Blacks (particularly men) are in our country. That fear and mistrust is why Trayvon is dead and Zimmerman is a free man. It's also why Emmett Till, Michael Griffith, Sean Bell and so many others fit into that hoodie on the cover of the Daily News. For millions of Americans, it fits us all.
FDO
Every year there’s a new one
A Diallou, King or me
Clamoring loudly
Faces on TV
We ask so many questions
But no one’s forced to answer
With sympathy’s short half-life
Soon most are hoping for the noise to stop
And the questions to disappear once again
Just like us
In our lives
And our deaths
© Gayle Force Press 2002
I didn’t remember his name
No, that’s not true
Mark Linn-Baker
What a funny, unforgettable name
I didn’t care to remember it I
suppose
He didn’t matter to me
Really Mark Linn-Baker was just there
Archived in my brain
Alongside Tracey Gold and Ken Kercheval,
Todd Bridges and Lisa Whelchel,
Roxie Roker and the rest of the litany
Of not quite stars
That worked so hard to barely input themselves
On my consciousness
The lot of them hardly identifiable
As individual entities
Only who they pretended to be
Which for them, like me,
Was the only important reality
The masks we wear for better
And for worse
Define us and allow us
To define each other
Whether the me you think you know
Or Mark Linn-Baker
You remember him, right
Cousin Larry
The other half of Balki
© Gayle
Force Press 2002
A friend of mine mentioned that since Roy Hibbert’s press
conference Saturday, he’s now rooting for the Heat. That started me thinking
about what Hibbert was actually aiming for in that presser.
I must admit that I've always been perplexed by "no
homo". That phrase is often used in ways that are totally nonsensical.
There’s an interesting Slate article
from a few years ago that describes some of the curious ways it functions in
rap music. For Hibbert to have used “no homo” seemed like acting out as part of
a broader attempt to be tough. The same is true of his calling the reports
"motherfuckers". They both sounded false coming from him. (It verges
on funny to watch Hibbert consider whether to actually say “motherfucker” or
not. I immediately had flashbacks to middle school.)
Let’s face it, Hibbert is just not a 'street' guy.
Particularly in Indiana in the decade long aftermath of the ‘Malice in the
Palace’, NOT being a street guy is part of why Mt. Hibbert is widely beloved. He’s
one of the faces of the Pacers franchise and in a world wherein Wilt
Chamberlain could believe, “Nobody loves Goliath,” Hibbert’s kindness, charity,
quick smile and obvious love for his family have made him an important
exception to the rule. We Hoosiers love our Goliath.
That’s part of what was so jarring about Saturday night. The
eyes of the nation are rarely on the Hoosier State where the NBA is concerned.
The Pacers have been the most important, positive surprise of the playoffs but
Saturday’s after game was a deeply unpleasant, unanticipated surprise. The
contrasts between the press conference and Hibbert’s immediate postgame
interview were shocking. It seems clear that Hibbert’s 'Happy Birthday Dad' hokum
was authentic. The badass wannabe posing he did on the dais wasn’t. Thank
goodness.
Of course, it’s always hard to balance who you are and who
you are expected to be, isn’t it? I imagine that’s particularly true on big
stages with bright lights. I’m pleased that David Stern pulled some charity
cash out of Hibbert’s pockets. My hope is that Saturday night will serve as
another clear reminder that the world continues to change and we all need to change
along with it.
FDO
For some reason, I recently started thinking about my
stages of listening to Sarah McLachlan. It has been an odd roller coaster ride moving from disdain to love to virtual irrelevance.
In the mid 90s, my girlfriend gave me the worst possible introduction to Sarah's music. The GF basically told me that she was
justified in being a selfish ass because of a Sarah M. lyric. What the %*@^? It didn't make sense but it did leave me with a sour impression of Sarah M. (As well as with the soon to be ex-GF!) I had no interest in finding anything more about this music.
Yet, the very first time I listened to Fumbling Towards Ecstasy I was blown away. Discovering the album was actually just a happy accident. My roomie at the time
came home and started playing the album, not noticing that I was napping. I woke up pissed at his thoughtlessness but it only took a couple songs for me to forgive him entirely. (Thanks, EZ.) In fact, it wasn’t long before I came to love Sarah McLachlan!
That voice! Those lyrics!
The musicality!
In 97, my girlfriend Gwen and I saw Sarah @Lilith Fair in Vancouver and it remains one of the best concert experiences I’ve
ever had. For awhile, listening to Sarah's albums became a kind of default for us. If we couldn't quickly decide on what music to play, we went to the well of McLachlan. In fact, her Surfacing album was the first joint purchase Gwen and I ever
made.
But now it’s been ten
years since her album Afterglow, the last one I bought. Now, I mostly think about Sarah McLachlan in conjunction with the horrifying ASPCA commercials that feature the song "Angel" and prompt everyone in my house to race for the remote control. At this point, Sarah may as well be Frankie Beverley and
Maze for me. It's great music that belongs strictly to my past. There's just no
resonance to my current life.
But on those rare occasions when I decide to listen to "Mary", "I Will Not Forget You" or "Fallen", I smile at both the songs and at the past.
FDO
The WhoDeannyPod 