N'Blog

Remembering The Times, Michael Jackson (1958-2009)

Michael Jackson's passing is bittersweet for me, as I would imagine it is for many people. It's bitter for obvious reasons. Anytime someone leaves this earth, suddenly or expectedly, the selfish part of us longs for the day before everything changed. It's sweet, however, because Michael Jackson's music brings me pleasant memories of my brother. 

My brother is partly responsible for my varied musical tastes. As I got older, we were always introducing one another to new artists we’d discovered.

In 1983, when I was about four years old, along with his “Thriller” album, he bought me a “Thriller” button to wear on my denim jacket. I didn’t really even know what most of the songs on the album were about at the time, but I knew it had to be cool, because my brother introduced me to it, and he was then (as he will always be) the definition of cool.

The summer of 2008, my brother and I sat together in his car and listened to our favorite Michael Jackson cuts of old on my iPod. Bittersweet.

My brother passed away this year, and remembering the times will always be bittersweet for me. I miss my brother, as I know, for sure, the world will miss the genius that will always be Michael Jackson. 

On The Money: A Financial Wake-Up Call by Tremell McKenzie

I woke up financially about eight years ago. But I was stirred a few times prior to that. The first time I remember saying, "I'm not doing something right," was when I was in college. I was standing in the lobby of my dorm and I had just gone on an exhausting shopping spree with my work-study check. It was an unnecessary trip because I was wearing brand new clothes as I carried my bags in.

I was never so thrilled with myself as when I saw my friend Tara and she complimented the clothes I was wearing. She went on to say she wanted the shoes I had on but couldn't afford them.

She hugged me good-bye and said she didn't know how I could afford such nice new stuff all the time and that she was on her way to a local bar, because she had landed a job as a waitress and would start that weekend. She said she didn't want the job but she had no money.

"Tremell, I'm down to my last thousand dollars!" she told me.

You can close your mouth now. But know that a cold bewildering chill ran through my mind and body the day she said that. When I said I was broke, I meant I was really broke. I had nothing. If I had ten dollars left, I considered myself ahead of the game.

I knew then that I was missing something and this girl let me know, whether she meant to do so or not. Tara set off alarms and thoughts that never crossed my mind before. The first thought was that different people had different perspectives, standards and definitions as it pertained to having money.

It seemed that all the poor people (me and my family) thought about money one way and all the rich (or people with means) thought about it another way. But I knew then and there that the only difference between the haves and the haves not started in the mind.

So I'd like to say thank you to Tara, wherever you are. Your lesson was the most valuable thing I learned in school. Learning to understand money and grow wealth is the single most important and valuable lesson any of us can ever learn.

email me at: tremellmckenzie@aol.com.

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Dr. Margaret Burroughs...91-year-old JB Skater!

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Harmene, you've given me a reason to look for my n'digo and go off when I don't find one. thanks for revamping the best paper in chitown. i'm 64 years of age with arthritis and walk two blocks to get one. i look forward to doin it.