I’m mad at Oprah's people!

I’m a huge fan of Oprah. I record her show and watch it as soon as I get home from work every day.

I heard a rumor that she might tape her show in Washington D.C., during inauguration week – Jan. 19-23. I religiously checked her Web site to make sure I didn’t miss out on the opportunity to secure tickets.

I will be in Washington D.C., when President-elect Barack Obama puts his hand on the Bible and takes the oath of office. I want to be able to tell the kids I don’t yet have that I was there to witness history (even though I’ll probably be witnessing it on a jumbo screen).

Anyway, once Oprah made the official announcement that she would indeed move her show to the nation’s capital, I got on the e-mail lines and let all my friends know we needed to be ready to flood the reservation line until one of us got through.

I figured, might as well kill two birds with one stone. My sister and a few friends want to eventually attend a taping of Oprah’s show, so this would have been a perfect opportunity to do so.

Friday, Oprah’s Web site said something about checking back next week for information regarding tickets to show tapings for inauguration week.

This morning at 8 a.m. sharp (Pacific Time), I checked the site again. It still said the same thing.

I went to a meeting at 9:30. Back at my desk by 11:30, I called my girl, Chandra, and she tells me about her sister’s friend securing tickets.

I check the Web site and it says the reservation lines were now closed. Within three-and-a-half hours, the lines opened and closed.

That makes me angry.

It’s hard for me to believe that whoever runs the Web site didn’t know they were going to open the reservation lines today. I knew that it was probably going to be damn near impossible to even get tickets.

But I at least expected to have the opportunity to give it the good old college try.

Oh well. Guess I’ll have to make a special trip to Chicago to see a show before Oprah decides to retire from television.

I just hope it’s not soon!

Why voting matters

Tuesday, Nov. 4, 2008 will forever be remembered as the day America decided “Yes We Can” make a change in this country.

Barack Obama, the 47-year-old junior United States Senator from Illinois, will be officially sworn in as President on Jan. 20, 2009. I plan to be there because I wouldn’t miss witnessing history for anything.

I want to be able to tell my yet-to-be-had children’s children that I saw a Black man place his hand on the Bible and say the following oath:

"I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States."

I cast my vote for President-elect Obama on Oct. 25. I really wanted to vote on Nov. 4, but I was flying back from Washington D.C., and didn’t want to chance not making it back in time.

I would have been sick to my stomach had I not been able to vote.

I’ve always believed that voting is a right and everyone should take advantage of the opportunity. Whether it’s for president or a bond measure, I always take time to vote.

As I cast my ballot that sunny Saturday afternoon, I couldn’t help but reflect on what my ancestors endured in order for me to walk into the Alameda County Court House and cast my vote for Barack Obama. For Black people, the right to vote has been a hard-won battle; my parent’s generation marched long and fought fiercely so that when a day like Nov. 4th came, I would be able to exercise my right to vote.

I often think about those who were bitten by dogs and hit with water from fire hoses; my heart aches knowing some paid the ultimate sacrifice just so a race of people could have a better life.

They stood up to fear and hatred, knowing in the end, the struggle would reap benefits for generations to come.

Even though the candidate I voted for won, I’m disappointed in California for passing Proposition 8, the ballot initiative that changes the California Constitution to ban gay marriage. It’s even more disappointing to know the majority of Blacks in the state voted for Prop. 8 – even while casting their vote for Obama who publicly backed the “No on Prop. 8” effort.

I voted against this measure because I believe when you discriminate against one group, it hurts us all.

Despite my disappointment, I’m proud that I partook in the voting process. I know that, no matter the outcome, my vote does matter.

Obama and my mama

Let me preface this blog entry by saying it won’t have anything to do with music. You probably could have guessed that from the title.

I can not pass up the opportunity to talk about the excitement this election season is having on my family – in particular, my mother.

First, let me let you in on a little family background. Politics were not a topic of discussion in my house. My mother was too busy rearing two daughters to discuss such things. Any talk about politics would be my father’s domain – but I can’t recall having conversations with my father about politics when I was younger either.

My mother didn’t take us to the polls when she cast her vote because she didn’t – she was too busy working.

It’s not until recently that mom has been exercising her right. She’s not a fan of either Bushes and she used to like Clinton (Bill that is), but he fell out of her favor when the current process of selecting a candidate for the Democrats began.

As most people are aware, last week was the Democratic National Convention (DNC) in Denver, Colorado. I was reared in Denver and my family still lives there. My sister volunteered at the convention and my extended family all had a part in the historic occasion.

Unable to travel home, I lived vicariously through my sister’s five-day odyssey (boy, she has some great stories to tell and I hope she blogs about it like I told her to).

Back to mom. I called her to catch up and the conversation quickly turned to Barack Obama. “Do you really think he has a shot at winning the presidency?” she asked with a cautiousness in her voice.

Born in 1943, my mother has been through plenty as a Black woman in America. She’s experienced Jim Crow laws firsthand and has lived through the Civil Rights movement.

She knows being alive to witness a Black man be a major contender for the presidency of the United States is a historic occasion she never expected to see in her lifetime – or mine or the children I have yet to have.

As our talk continued, my mom went on and on about how she watched every moment of the DNC on CSPAN. “I didn’t want to hear what the reporters had to say,” she told me.

“Did you see Ted Kennedy?” she asked. “Stevie Wonder tore it up and Jennifer Hudson did a good job singing the national anthem,” she continued.

“Michelle Obama’s speech was really good and their daughters are too cute.” On and on my mom went about everything she saw.

I couldn’t help but feel a mixture of shock, pride and delight as I listened to my mother inform me about the lies “they” keep telling about Barack and how Hillary gets on her “last nerve.”

Never before, my mother said, has she watched a convention. “I never saw the need.”

But Barack Obama, with his passion to move America in a different direction, has my mother in a place she thought she would never be – hopeful that, come Nov. 4, this country will elect the right man to office. Not just because he’s a Black man, but because he’s the best option to lead this nation out of the despair and dysfunction it currently is in.

I anticipate that on Jan. 20, 2009, my mom will be beaming with pride as Barack Obama is sworn in as the 44th president of the United States of America.

I know I will.