Editor’s Edict~


What a thought to know that the holidays are here and that 2008 is knocking on our back screen door grinning with a steaming hot homemade apple pie. I don’t know about you, but I’m looking forward to letting her in with welcoming arms.

As we close out 2007 and in honor of the launch of the Brown Betties Gazette, I’ve chosen some of my favorite articles that have appeared here since we began this past spring.

I look forward to this next coming year where we will continue to bring you amazing Brown Betties who are out there doing their thing. We’ll also have fun and poignant articles from other Brown Bettie writers. Last but not least, we’ll continue to be represented by the Brown Betties of Harlem’s Night Cabaret as we perform our sultry, sassy, sophisticated bed time story. Catch us live January 4, February 1 and March 7 2008 at The Mint in LA. And, don't forget to purchase your Brown Betties Pinned UP 2008 Calendar at www.brownbetties.com!

Happy New Year!


xo
Peppur Chambers
The Hot One

P.S. As always, if you have any comments or would like to write for the Gazette, feel free to hit me up at brownbettiesgazette@yahoo.com.

A Brown Bettie with Moxie

By Peppur Chambers



Yasmine Richard
Multi-format Producer
On-Air Host
Voice Over Talent

A whip of a firecracker, Yasmine is a wonderful personality. I’m not just saying that to say it, nor am I saying it in terms of how the entertainment industry refers to talent…I’ll leave that up to agents, managers and Entertainment Tonight as Miss Richard is already skipping along the yellow-brick road towards being a Wonderful Personality.

With time short these days, we get things done the way that is quick and most convenient! Therefore, Yasmine and I conducted this month’s Brown Bettie interview via BlackBerry. For those of you perhaps unfamiliar, a “BlackBerry” is like a little typewriter that fits in the palm of your hand that is connected to the internet (more or less). You may see people tapping into them while walking, driving, standing in line at Starbucks, etc. The keys are small, as is the screen, so to communicate “effectively”, we often use abbreviations and stylized words to make up for the crunch. Below, I tried to keep true to what Yas wrote, only changing words that the general population may not be familiar with. It’s a fun interview and as Yas said, “Sorry I'm answering funky...I'm on my bberry.”

How many nicknames do you have?
A million. Yazzy, yazzo, yaz, jazzy, jaz, yas-mi-mine (pronounced yaas-me-meen...my fam is haitian), pimante, picante...The last 2 are a funny story. I got them as a kid. I was in Haiti with my fam and I went to the fridge and bit into what I thought was some fruit...turned out to be some pepper. OUCH! Recently, Myss Moxie. I gave it to myself. I like what the word "moxie" means.

Which one is your favorite, and why?
All of them are special to me. Probably the last few since they remind me of my fam.

I understand you helped break the Kanye West musical debut at MTV. What in your gut made you know you were right about him and/or his music?
His energy. Like pure raw talent. He loves music. And I do too. And quite frankly it would be an injustice to me to not have introduced him to whoever I can. I think that because of competition or whatevs people don't wanna put other people on. I always look at it this way. If that was at the beginning of my career, I can't wait to see how the rest shapes up!

How have you used that instinct to directly help yourself in your budding career as an on-camera broadcast journalist?
Great question. No...I haven't. My focus for several years has been behind the scenes. I figured the stronger I am as a producer/director, the better I can communicate when I'm on the other side of the camera. Its taking me a bit longer but I know the "Oprah 2.0" movement will go down!

How long have you been in LA and what are you doing now?
Been in LA about 3 years. I'm currently a producer with a huge emphasis on field producing. I'm really interested in development too. So I've been developing projects on the side that hopefully I'll pitch in the next few weeks or so.

Tell us about one of your favorite interviews/projects and why it was so special (or crazy).
Fave intvs/projects-well, 3 intvs stand out. 1.) Terrance Howard...he's very graceful and intense. Makes total sense why he's the great actor with range that he is. 2.) Gladys Knight! She was phenomenal. It was at some BET awards [event] and they asked us if we wanted to talk to her....(keep in mind, I work for MTV and why would MTV wanna talk to Gladys Knight!) So of course I said YES! How could I not!? She was everything you wanted her to be. And lastly/most recently, Common. Again, exactly who you want him to be. So humble and articulate.

For another interview on Yazzy and to see how phenomenal she is, check her out at Galrilla.net pg 82!!!!

You graduated from Brigham Young, correct?
Yup, BYU. I got a scholarship there for academics. My fam is Mormon. And I was recruited as part of a multi-cultural program designed to recruit...multi-cultural students. Did I just repeat myself?? Lol.

You mentioned an outstanding idea about Myspace. Do you care to talk about it here?
I would talk about my myspizzle idea but there are some swagger jackers out there and I wanna lock in the ownership before I put the call out! (Aarhaa aarhaa! That's my bird call. Lol)

Update: Yasmine is ready for the world! She has two projects going. See below for the rundown!

You recently visited the Peponi Spa, which is in Venice and Black-Owned. Do you happen to have a phone photo of your hottt nails? (What was the color?)
Peponi is dope on a rope! So relaxing!! Great energy. But yeah the nail colour (tryin’ to be fresh throwing the "u" in there). So, ok I knew I wanted pink but I couldn't decide what shade sooooo I put three different colors on 3 different nails to get some opinions and I realized that I liked all 3 so I decided to do all of them. It’s different but it works!

Do you like a Lady's Man (i.e. a man that adores a Lady) or a Bad Boy? Why?
I like a combination. A man that knows when to switch it up. You can be a lady's man when the time comes but when its time to whip out (that's awful! Lol) the thug passion. Handle ur biznass! Haha. (Sorry mom)

What ultimately makes you a Brown Bettie?
What makes me a Brown Bettie is my belief in integrity. I'm the oldest of 8 kids and it’s important to me that my family knows I WON the RIGHT way. Always, always move with INTEGRITY it’s [always] in the back of my mind. I'm in an industry where people will do WHATEVER it takes to win. I won't. I will do it my way.....with Moxie!

Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T

******"Myss Moxie Presents: Social Studies"******

Click here for the video!

#1) Have you ever exposed a guy/girl on Facebook/Myspace? Like found out that she/he was doing you wrong thanks to the magic of Facebook/Myspace? If so, Myss Moxie wants to hear about it. Email: thinktwice.ent@gmail.com

#2) Has ladies night at the club ever turned sour because of a bug a boo? You know, the dude or dudes (depending on your hotness level) that will NOT leave you alone. The one that insist that because you're wearing a certain outfit or looking a certain way, thinks it's the greenlight to harass you non-stop? Send an email or a 30s webcam with your story to: myssmoxie@gmail.com

For more on Yasmine and her projects, go to: www.myspace.com/myssmoxie. All photos by Steve Kay www.myspace.com/stevekay13

Two Sides

There are two sides to every love story. Hers and His. Here is one gritty story told through the immediacy and simplicity of emotional email. If you have a story you'd like to share, email brownbettiesgazette@yahoo.com and put TWO SIDES in the subject line.

Hers (June 16, 2006) )

I called him yesterday and we had a very trepidatious (word?) conversation and then I called him at the end of the day because I wanted to hear his voice. We were supposed to get together on Sunday to talk and stuff but when I called him he asked if I wanted to come over last night and I did. I was preparing myself for this to be the last time I was at his house but when he came downstairs and I saw him I just started grinning like a fool. I was so happy to see him. I did ask him if he had any more secrets and he said no. I asked him why he didn't tell me and he said that he was going to. Me "When?" Him "I was going to tell you." Repeat. Me "I thought you loved me?" Him "I do love you. I don't see what that has to do with it. I was going to tell you." I said some other stuff and I made a big deal of having him look me in the eye when he was talking to me. Me "The baby would be so pretty if it looked like my side of the family." Him "As long as it's good looking."

I told him that I want a partner and that is important to me and that I want a baby. He said he wants a partner but he doesn't want anymore kids because he'll be 67 when it's 20. Me "What about all the years in between?" I asked him if he had $10 million would he want a baby then and he said it isn't about the money.

I'm still all icky gooey in love with him. He showed me his movie that he's working on. He wants me to help him make it better. I want him to help me publish my book. Me "Did you miss me?" Him "Of course I did." He said that he thought I wasn't going to call him anymore and that this was going to be the end since we want different things. He also said that he figured that I'd call him from Brazil or something. I asked him if he thinks I'm going to just run off and he said yes. Ok, so there are some issues there and I can't be mad at him for that because as you are aware running away is my fantasy. I told him that I don't want to run away that I want to be with him. Me "I know you're done getting married and I don't need that." Him "That's not true I want to get married again and buy a house with someone." Well, it appears that we differ on one very important issue...so what to do? I think I'm going to stick with it and see where it goes.

This morning.....Him "Do you really want a baby?" Me "Yes." Him "No you don't." What? Anyway, I adore him and he makes me smile and I love him and being close to him. However, on the other hand I still feel kind of free and I don't know if that's about me feeling like he doesn't have anymore secrets from me or if I feel free to go out with other people and do whatever I want.

I guess time will tell. I feel more at ease than I have in a long time when it comes to our relationship. The break helped me out that's for sure. Do you think he'll budget on the baby thing? I don't want to lose him but I don't know what's it's like to be so absolute about something. I'm always willing to compromise.

His (September 26, 2006)

In your late and desperate quest to have a kid you
should run off to Atlanta or Braizl where it could
happen in less than six months or go back to dating
white boys.

I was all most there given my past this was the
best way for me I just need a little reasurance and
living together would have given me that. I read you
like a book if it's not your way then its all or
noting. Yeah it's better this way you are head for
singel parent hood because you are so desperate you
can't think about any thing else.

What about your book your movie looking for another
job they don't matter its just about a kid I hope you
don't end up a babies momma because you can barely can
take care of yourself. What do you do with your life
other than feel sorry for self and envey us of your
friends with families. YOU DO NOTHING but work out and
to to work which you hate and you only been on two job
intervies in the last year, and run behind your
firiends...the only one who has no one so lets all
feel sorry for her. You live vivariouly throuth your
fiends. LIVE YOUR LIFE TODAY My life is far from
perfect but I have always live it

Since I have known you thats all you talked about A
KID in sted of just letting it happen....We had
something good if you would have just stepped back
alittle you might have gotten what you wanted. Head
strong with get you nothing but along your fear of
becoming a an old maid is that much closer...looking
in the mirror what do you see? Do yo really
think at this age you have a shot...I mean really.
There is nothing funny about ending up along.

You need to start dating today remember you don't have
time you are 38 and time is running out...I heard
dating on line is good for women who want kids and
church is good.


We could have been happy with or with out a kid...

I'm the lucky one here...I was really starting to see
us as family and looking forward to living together me
and you 1st thats love and from comes a kid....I
wanted to move in with you get closer.

What you need is sprem donner...no man who gets wind
of 38 year women looking to get married and kid they
might fuck you. Marriage it could have but not in two
years, only if you put lid on desparate bit for kid.

Good Luck to you I just had to say this and get off of
my chest...you never hear from me again.

In My Solitude
Poetic offering from Carol Sims aka Bubblin B Suga dated May 10, 2002

AFRAID

I am afraid afraid to feel you
yet I feel you deep down
I am feeling your feelings

I am afraid to let my feelings flow
yet they flood your world

afraid that too much too soon
will be too much kissing and hugging and touching
and looking and oozing and boozing up on love feelings

I can hear you when I'm not listening
and I stop breathing just to listen....
then I shudder because
I can feel you and I am afraid

so afraid that when our eyes meet
I smile fearing that you will feel me too

i am afraid of knowing love again
afraid of the up and down of it all
afraid to be free and
let you catch up with me
and hold me closer than before

I am so afraid oflettingyou
that I've waited for you
all my life and now
you're here
and
I'm speechless at the thought of knowing
you are ready
to keep me

butterflies!!!

afraid to let you go when we part
afraid of those long tight embraces
that will eventually will squeeze

an
I love you

out of me

Unzipped

By Cars and Stars

After nearly an hour of resistance, begging, excuses, decency and negotiating, we pulled over to the darkest corner of the quiet tree-lined, residential street. There was a large bush that blocked the window on the passenger side. It filled the car with the smell of pine. He climbed over the front seat quickly and coaxed me into the back seat with him, seemingly lifting me above and between the driver and passenger seat headrests. “Lay back and put your leg over here”, he whispered.

In the backseat of a car, on the darkest street in one of the most upscale neighborhoods in the city is where he unzipped me.

Looking through the moon roof in the car, all I could see were the tips of trees, stars and a residual glow from the streetlight a half a block down. I didn’t feel scared, just tingly. His temperature was hot, his hands quick, his lips warm and soft. He worked himself into a frenzy, rapid and intense, heightening all the senses. I felt him smell, touch, taste, hear and see me everywhere. The driver’s side windows were steamed and I was blinded by stars and sensations and soon could not hear a thing.

When we came down from euphoria, he smiled as a Cheshire cat would. He looked at me, touched his favorite spot and slowly zipped me up. Then, almost regretfully, he said, “Let’s go.”

Signed,
Cars & Stars

Have you been Unzipped? Let us know how and where at brownbettiesgazette@yahoo.com. Be sure to use “UNZIPPED” in your subject heading!

I'm A Woman

In 1963, Peggy Lee let the world know why she was a woman with her song, "I'm A Woman". The Brown Betties of Harlem's Night Cabaret offer a little somethin' somethin' on what she feels makes her a woman today.


Danielle Lewis (plays "WANT"):

I know who I am. I know what I want and I know how to get it. I have a mind of my own- ask me what's on it and I'll tell you. I know the power of a woman and I know how to use it in all its glory. I know when to give and how to recieve. I live by the saying "It's better to ask for forgiveness than permission". Life waits on no one, and neither do I.

Christy Gamble (plays "LOVE")

I’m thorough;

I can get everything well done in one day’s time and still come home and just listen...

Keena Ferguson (plays "HATE")

...It's a matter of taking that moment where you don't feel so great and trying to make the best out of it and deciding to be happy and positive instead of focusing on all those other things that you want to still happen...

Peppur Chambers (plays "NEED"/"HARLEM")

I know I feel most like a woman when

I've fully tapped into my power.

Momma Said
by Vicki Rogers (Peppur's Momma)

There was a saying in our household that was passed down from Grandma Hamm to my mother and then down to my sisters and me. I’d actually call it a mantra that became ingrained into my being because I heard it so often. It was: "You can eat it fast or you can eat it slow, but when it's gone there ain't no mo'." Grandma Hamm, strong-willed and strong-boned, moved from rural Wright City, Missouri to live with relatives in Lawrence, Kansas when Grandpa went into the Army. She had seven children; worked as a housekeeper; and like everyone else, she knew hardship. For grandma and momma the bottom line was feeding their families. Momma never asked what we wanted to eat. You ate what was put on the table or you DIDN'T.

I didn’t like onions. When they were on my plate, I ate … SLOW. There was momma’s tuna casserole, tuna salad and potato salad that were full of them. It was like you had won the diced-onion lottery. I would spend what seemed like hours at the table picking diced onions out of my food before I could even eat it. I hated that crunch of the onion between my teeth, let alone the taste. How my three sisters laughed. Everyone else would be in their pajamas and I, the youngest, would still be dissecting my food one teaspoon at a time. Creamed onions, which were my mother's favorite and far too concealed in white sauce for any form of dissection, had to be swallowed whole with a Kool-Aid chaser. (I still cringe to this day.) Oddly enough, there were exceptions: fried potatoes and onions and fried liver and onions. Both were cooked so long that the onions kind of melted away or they were burnt to a crispy charcoal and were easy to detect.

Under the “Eat It Fast” category was fried chicken. My sisters say we ate a lot of my mother’s variety at home, but my favorite came from my Grandma Rogers' house on Sundays (pictured left). We'd walk to her house after Mass hungry with anticipation; maybe that had something to do with it because by both momma and Grandma Rogers (a Troy, Kansas native) were excellent at fried chicken. They always cut up their own whole chicken. The pieces were then shook in a brown paper bag with salt, pepper and flour and then fried in hot Crisco shortening with half a stick of Oleo margarine added in. We ate it all too: the backs and breast; liver and gizzard; heart and neck; and the legs and thighs. This was a meal during which you did not leave the table because after the blessing, it was every fork for themselves. Fifteen minutes later the dishes were hitting the sink.

I guess we all remember the foods we hated or loved. Today we still eat fast -- but it's usually at the drive-through. We still eat slow --but it's to avoid indigestion. However now, it's rarely NO MO' and I say, "Amen" to that!

Editor’s Edict~


Fall is quickly approaching! What a scary thought to know that the holidays are right around the corner. Treat yourself and take a moment to enjoy the July/August Brown Betties Gazette in an attempt to slow time for just a little while. Our featured Brown Bettie is Yasmine Richard who is not only a producer, but also an on-air and voice-over talent. She’s just created “Myss Moxie Presents: Social Studies” which is an online venture that takes a look at the woes of Myspace and social networking as well as how hard it is sometimes for women to just go out and have a drink! Kahshanna Evans gives Two Sides to Every Love Story by exploring how to love herself while trying to find love. In My Solitude, I give you insight to my morning work-out … the real thing is featured in the August/September Heart & Soul magazine! Monique Taylor gets Unzipped with a little “Bubbly”, while my momma wishes her hands would give her a hand in Momma Said. Hopefully you’ve been enjoying our fiction entries; we keep it going with the third installment of "Harlem's Awakening"...the back story to Harlem & Joe of “Harlem’s Night Cabaret”. As always, enjoy, enjoy, enjoy! If you have any comments, feel free to hit me up at brownbettiesgazette@yahoo.com.


xo
Peppur Chambers

A Brown Bettie with Moxie

By Peppur Chambers



Yasmine Richard
Multi-format Producer
On-Air Host
Voice Over Talent

A whip of a firecracker, Yasmine is a wonderful personality. I’m not just saying that to say it, nor am I saying it in terms of how the entertainment industry refers to talent…I’ll leave that up to agents, managers and Entertainment Tonight as Miss Richard is already skipping along the yellow-brick road towards being a Wonderful Personality.

With time short these days, we get things done the way that is quick and most convenient! Therefore, Yasmine and I conducted this month’s Brown Bettie interview via BlackBerry. For those of you perhaps unfamiliar, a “BlackBerry” is like a little typewriter that fits in the palm of your hand that is connected to the internet (more or less). You may see people tapping into them while walking, driving, standing in line at Starbucks, etc. The keys are small, as is the screen, so to communicate “effectively”, we often use abbreviations and stylized words to make up for the crunch. Below, I tried to keep true to what Yas wrote, only changing words that the general population may not be familiar with. It’s a fun interview and as Yas said, “Sorry I'm answering funky...I'm on my bberry.”

How many nicknames do you have?
A million. Yazzy, yazzo, yaz, jazzy, jaz, yas-mi-mine (pronounced yaas-me-meen...my fam is haitian), pimante, picante...The last 2 are a funny story. I got them as a kid. I was in Haiti with my fam and I went to the fridge and bit into what I thought was some fruit...turned out to be some pepper. OUCH! Recently, Myss Moxie. I gave it to myself. I like what the word "moxie" means.

Which one is your favorite, and why?
All of them are special to me. Probably the last few since they remind me of my fam.

I understand you helped break the Kanye West musical debut at MTV. What in your gut made you know you were right about him and/or his music?
His energy. Like pure raw talent. He loves music. And I do too. And quite frankly it would be an injustice to me to not have introduced him to whoever I can. I think that because of competition or whatevs people don't wanna put other people on. I always look at it this way. If that was at the beginning of my career, I can't wait to see how the rest shapes up!

How have you used that instinct to directly help yourself in your budding career as an on-camera broadcast journalist?
Great question. No...I haven't. My focus for several years has been behind the scenes. I figured the stronger I am as a producer/director, the better I can communicate when I'm on the other side of the camera. Its taking me a bit longer but I know the "Oprah 2.0" movement will go down!

How long have you been in LA and what are you doing now?
Been in LA about 3 years. I'm currently a producer with a huge emphasis on field producing. I'm really interested in development too. So I've been developing projects on the side that hopefully I'll pitch in the next few weeks or so.

Tell us about one of your favorite interviews/projects and why it was so special (or crazy).
Fave intvs/projects-well, 3 intvs stand out. 1.) Terrance Howard...he's very graceful and intense. Makes total sense why he's the great actor with range that he is. 2.) Gladys Knight! She was phenomenal. It was at some BET awards [event] and they asked us if we wanted to talk to her....(keep in mind, I work for MTV and why would MTV wanna talk to Gladys Knight!) So of course I said YES! How could I not!? She was everything you wanted her to be. And lastly/most recently, Common. Again, exactly who you want him to be. So humble and articulate.

For another interview on Yazzy and to see how phenomenal she is, check her out at Galrilla.net pg 82!!!!

You graduated from Brigham Young, correct?
Yup, BYU. I got a scholarship there for academics. My fam is Mormon. And I was recruited as part of a multi-cultural program designed to recruit...multi-cultural students. Did I just repeat myself?? Lol.

You mentioned an outstanding idea about Myspace. Do you care to talk about it here?
I would talk about my myspizzle idea but there are some swagger jackers out there and I wanna lock in the ownership before I put the call out! (Aarhaa aarhaa! That's my bird call. Lol)

Update: Yasmine is ready for the world! She has two projects going. See below for the rundown!

You recently visited the Peponi Spa, which is in Venice and Black-Owned. Do you happen to have a phone photo of your hottt nails? (What was the color?)
Peponi is dope on a rope! So relaxing!! Great energy. But yeah the nail colour (tryin’ to be fresh throwing the "u" in there). So, ok I knew I wanted pink but I couldn't decide what shade sooooo I put three different colors on 3 different nails to get some opinions and I realized that I liked all 3 so I decided to do all of them. It’s different but it works!

Do you like a Lady's Man (i.e. a man that adores a Lady) or a Bad Boy? Why?
I like a combination. A man that knows when to switch it up. You can be a lady's man when the time comes but when its time to whip out (that's awful! Lol) the thug passion. Handle ur biznass! Haha. (Sorry mom)

What ultimately makes you a Brown Bettie?
What makes me a Brown Bettie is my belief in integrity. I'm the oldest of 8 kids and it’s important to me that my family knows I WON the RIGHT way. Always, always move with INTEGRITY it’s [always] in the back of my mind. I'm in an industry where people will do WHATEVER it takes to win. I won't. I will do it my way.....with Moxie!

Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T

******"Myss Moxie Presents: Social Studies"******

Click here for the video!

#1) Have you ever exposed a guy/girl on Facebook/Myspace? Like found out that she/he was doing you wrong thanks to the magic of Facebook/Myspace? If so, Myss Moxie wants to hear about it. Email: thinktwice.ent@gmail.com

#2) Has ladies night at the club ever turned sour because of a bug a boo? You know, the dude or dudes (depending on your hotness level) that will NOT leave you alone. The one that insist that because you're wearing a certain outfit or looking a certain way, thinks it's the greenlight to harass you non-stop? Send an email or a 30s webcam with your story to: myssmoxie@gmail.com

For more on Yasmine and her projects, go to: www.myspace.com/myssmoxie. All photos by Steve Kay www.myspace.com/stevekay13

Two Sides To Every Love Story...

"Ice Breaker"

By Kahshanna Evans

Dating is hard and it’s even harder when you have a friend who gives you advice to change yourself to make yourself more attractive. However, for Miss Kahshanna Evans (actor/designer/creative-extraordinaire) and self-proclaimed “Fire Diva”, this friendly advice was a soul-baring wake up call that sparked an interesting “ice breaker” for a recent relationship. Below she shares her multi-part exploration into loving herself while trying to find love.

“Social Obligation can have fatal doses…or worse, can lead to romantic flat-lining and utter destruction of your character” – K. Evans.

It still lights me up when I think about it. I was excited to go on a date with someone and my gal pal said, “Whatever you do, be easy going, agreeable, make interesting conversation that interests him…overall just ‘be cool’.” Basically she said: Don't be yourself… She was trying to gracefully let me know something indirectly about how impulsive and firey I came across back then. BTW this was before I made a commitment to myself that, as a woman, I have to take the risk to be myself under even the most intense situations.

Was there any good, sound advice to be absorbed, advice that would, in fact do what she set out to do, which was to empower me? I have thought about that too. The truth of the matter was, she did care for me and was trying to help. Kudos.

Mind you, I feel more flexible than I ever have, more compassionate, more able to create healthy boundaries and am the most committed to taking care of myself and the person I love than I ever have been in my life… but back then I took her advice seriously for some God forsaken reason. Was that the world I was in? Were my only chances to meet someone of the opposite sex guided by me being someone else, or presenting a “representative” who would drive home the deal long enough for, well, WHAT, exactly?? Long enough for us to feel more intimate, get closer, only to realize we are completely different people?

The date:
This guy was one of those everything guys: he was a young, black author, had his PhD(s) and was on television…He was highly intelligent. The date went ok…that was it. What he thought would showcase him as some successful tycoon just came across to me as arrogant. He took a call on his cell, and called me “trendy” and from then on I was “over it”. Points lost, buddy…he had the nerve to want to take me out again. Bye-bye. He's lucky he didn't get the smack down. I did decide to be myself…I did not curb my fire and somewhat contain my impulses. I didn’t want to be with someone who classified me that way.

Recently I met someone new and I like him; he’s funny and intelligent, motivated, shows genuine interest in my mind and gives me attention and when he calls me beautiful I believe him and it feels good. Soon after we’d met a few times, I thought, “Am I being myself?” Not just the nice first- impression self, but really my own candid, opinionated, wild, emotional self…I decided to put my money where my mouth was, call my own bluff on this ‘be yourself’ theory. I wanted to know about my own personal level of honesty.

I wrote a three page email, you know the one that after you press send with such nonchalance you think, “OMG, what did I just do?”…Was I doomed, would I be banished to an unruly single people's island like the land of misfit toys on that “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” Christmas cartoon? Spike [Lee] where are you -- did I do the right thing? The battle ensued between my protective fire-diva and my conscience goddess. No, I told myself, you are a woman and you are who you are and if he’s going to stick around he's going to stick around, no need in being afraid anymore.

Ed – Were you afraid he would leave?

K: I feared I would like him before he liked me, which then maybe means I feared he would leave.

Find out what happened after Miss Evans sent her firey three-page email in the next issue of the Brown Betties Gazette!

In My Solitude
By Peppur Chambers

Each morning I wake up and stretch my legs as though I were still the competitive track athlete I once was. I then turn to my side, face the morning sun, and say, “I should really get up and go for a run.” I then squeeze my thighs for some sort of reassurance that if I do NOT in fact go for a run -- for the tenth consecutive day -- that my quads will not turn to mush. I then turn over to my other side and stretch my legs again in an effort to make my calf muscles feel like they are being exercised. I lie on my stomach, squeeze each butt cheek for measurement and firmness, again hoping they have not expanded. I turn onto my back, clasp my hands behind my head and pretend to do mini crunches until I realize my actions are futile. I then roll over to my side, staring at the beautiful LA sun and berate myself for not getting my ass up for a wonderful run. When I lived in New York and the Midwest, I could blame my inaction on crappy, cold weather; these days I have no excuse. Somehow, I wish my brain would put a leash on my leg and pull me from the bed just like a little puppy that has to pee each morning; maybe then I would get up for the run that I actually love. (Maybe I should just get a puppy??)

In the meantime, I’ve decided to sleep with the August/September issue of Heart & Soul magazine. I’m featured on pages 58-61 doing a myriad of sculpting exercises. I hope that I’ll be inspired to do the exercises I’m demonstrating. If not, I can simply stare at the photos and add images to my muscle memory! In all seriousness, I hope you’ll get the magazine and find happiness in a new workout. Enjoy!!

"Bubbly" Unzipped
By Monique Taylor

After years of trying to extol my sophistication through drink choices: manhattans, cosmos, and dirty martinis, I had overlooked a staple in alcoholic elegance – Champagne. I rediscovered this virtuous concoction when my local wine and spirits depot discontinued a moderately priced Pinot Grigio that I depended on to assuage daily drama, or get me through boring dates. In certain circumstances, it is necessary to call in the big guns: Jack Daniels, two cubes of ice, and a splash of ginger ale. In my solitude I’d mix up a Jack & Ginger, glide around my hardwood floors in socks, and pretend I was at one of those parties I rarely get invites to.
Reacquainting myself with the champagne choices behind the refrigerated section, I choose a slightly dry ‘brut’ to contrast with a tin of chocolates I remembered I had left over from a trip to Paris. Slightly embarrassed to be purchasing a bottle of champagne in the middle of the week, exacerbated by a curious grin from the clerk accepting my tender, I strapped on an air of occasion and invited myself over to a friend’s house that also enjoys superfluous spontaneity. A quick stop home to pick up the Parisian truffles, and I was on my way to met my friend on the fire escape outside her 5th floor walk-up. Neither I, nor my companion had any previous experience with the proper way to expel a bubbly cork, though we knew pointing it away from our faces and the window would be best. Not knowing what to do, we passed the bottle back and forth like a hot potato and gradually the cork slid off under the pressure, letting off a ‘sigh’. Little carbonated bubbles rose to the tops of our glasses and we toasted: to black girls, to the summer, to little money but much class, and to personifying ‘’celebration’.

The sunset from our amazing view set in silence, interrupted only by a few giggles caused the blissful inebriation unattainable through pretentious cocktails. Hours later we found ourselves sprawled out on her bed, careful not to get chocolate on the white down comforter, in a position I haven’t been in since my sweet 16 sleepover – vulnerable, yet not alone. The tickle in my throat from the initial sip gone, we finished the rest of the bottle of Negro Brut without any hesitation. I awoke the next morning, totally unzipped, and with Champagne as my signature drink.

Harlem’s Love Story…
For your reading enjoyment, find the third installment of “Harlem’s Awakening”…This is the “True Hollywood Story” (as it were) behind the love affair between Joe and Harlem that plays out in the cabaret, “Harlem’s Night”.


Out of Sorts...Chapter 3
Harold Crossgrove and his gnarled teeth loomed in front of her.

“ Whatchu doin’ here Harrrlm?”, he drawled. Harlem assumed he was from Mississippi, but never bothered to verify this hunch. At this moment, she definitely could care less. Not only was he physically blocking her centered view of Joe – the very reason she was even at the Cornett Lounge – but his rancid breath was stronger than a Joe Louis’ left jab and caught her square on the chin. She actually shut her eyes and shook her head from the blow.

She could hear the strained notes from Joe’s bass calling out to her as though it were a strong whiff of smelling salts. She opened her eyes and craned her neck past and around Harold to let Joe know she heard him callin’. Harold turned with her.

“Didn’t know you like-did Jazz so much.”

This time she was ready for the Joe Louis K.O. and held her breath while Harold spoke. She merely nodded in affirmation.

“This band’s pretty decent. That guy right thur, the one strummin’ the upright, that’s my buddy, Joe.”

She tried to contain her resentment. He knows Joe. How does he know Joe? How could her Joe even be acquainted with a Harold? It wasn’t that Harold was a very bad man…he wasn’t a thief or a murderer (as far as she knew), he just seemed like a freakin’ idiot. And, she hated the way he lumbered around like a drugged hound dog. When her best friend Cora was around him, she turned into a passive poodle. The combination was sickening. The last time they all went out to see a Cowboy flick together, the two of them were so huddled up sniffing and snuffling each other while waiting on line to buy their tickets, that she wanted to run and line-backer tackle the both of them. But, she didn’t. She’d worn a new pair of pumps that day and didn’t want to scuff the toes.

Harold continued, “We works togetha’ down at Grand Central Station. Been tellin’ me to come down for quite some time now, buht my money wasn’t lookin’ towards entertainin’ these past few weeks. I’m alright now, though.”

Harlem was trying hard to concentrate. Between holding her breath and trying to be consumed by Joe, she was having a very hard time. She stood.

“Harold, will you excuse me please? I really must go powder my nose.”

“Your nose looks fine, Harrrlm.”

“Thank you Harold. Watch my seat please?”

“Will do.” He replied. “Will do.”

She couldn’t get to the powder room fast enough. She shot through the crowd like the little steel ball in a pinball machine; she tried not to bump into people with her silky hips, but wasn’t always successful.

The powder room offered the respite she needed. It certainly wasn’t as beautiful as the one at Macy’s, where she worked, but it would do. She slumped onto the dark green chaise and deeply inhaled soothing scents of rose water and cheap peach soap. Ahhh. She leaned her head against the wall and its wallpaper adorned with dark green velvety decal things that looked like they belonged on a French soldier’s uniform. She couldn’t remember what they were called. As she stared at them, trying to recall, a statuesque woman emerged from the bathroom and into the powder room. She didn’t look like she belonged in the Cornett Lounge.

“You all right, honey?”, she asked. It was funny that she said ‘honey’ because Harlem thought everything about this brown woman was like honey – her voice, her golden satin dress and wrap, her walk…smooth like honey. Harlem straightened herself. She felt like a fermenting sack of potatoes. Not sexy.

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.” Harlem felt they were about the same age, but somehow this woman commanded an elegant presence that’s usually attained with more years than her own. Harlem added, “Thank you, Miss.”

Honey chuckled. “I’m just glad you’re alright. You looked out of sorts.”

“I guess I felt out of sorts…” The woman hadn’t heard her. She was already through the doors when Harlem added that bit of truth. She pulled herself to the mirror. What she saw before her wasn’t half as frightening as she’d felt.

“I look damn good.” She whispered as she tucked a curl in place. She glazed a little iced ruby across her lips and, for fun, she strolled out of the powder room doing her best impression of Bette Davis.





(c)2007 Pen and Peppur LLC

Momma Said
By Vicki Rogers

I stare at the band-aids wrapped around my left index finger now blue and bulbous after smashing it in the door leading to my garage. Mother Nature sent a sudden blast of air to the open garage which caused some sort of suction which then caused the door to slam much faster and harder than it normally does, thus smashing my finger. I’m sure she didn’t do it on purpose.
Unfortunately this type of thing happens to me all too often. While at the University of Arizona, my Alma Mater, something similar happened. It was 1997 -- I had gone back to college post-children and a few decades of life-living to obtain my much desired beckoning degree. It was time for my quarterly furniture rearranging. While moving stuff by myself, somehow -- between shifting my grip and tripping -- I landed on the floor with the leg of the antique hutch in the middle of my palm. (ouch!)

I remembered the year before when I hurt my right hand by slamming it in the front door while running to a neighbor’s house for ice. (I borrowed often because with my tiny freezer it was either ice or food.)

Now, while I sit in front of the computer, I struggle to type with my right hand and hold the mouse in place. I’m left handed and this is a daunting task. Sometimes in the afternoons, like back then, I forget my left hand is injured and I bang the wrapped finger into my eye or thigh or head. I have to be careful with my hands because when I’m not paying attention, they work against me and end up crushed between a door or panked on the twisted claw foot of an antique china cabinet.

Editor’s Edict ~

It's June. It's Hot! And so is this month's Gazette. Our featured Brown Bettie is the smokin' Hayley Marie Norman who is highly revered by many on NBC's "Deal or No Deal" and is burning her way towards a poker-hot plethora of her own silver screen deals. Three brave readers give some warmth to the debate behind why we might choose a Bad Boy for a mate in Two Sides To Every Love Story and we get a hazy glimpse of a woman's point-of-view on the plight of an abandoned shopping cart in Solitude. Mrs. Cecilie Davis Carter gets heated in Unzipped, while my momma offers a tasty treat with "Bananas" in Momma Said. If you’re getting to your summer reading, you'll enjoy our fiction entry with the second installment of "Harlem's Awakening"...the back story to Harlem & Joe. Be sure to pass the Gazette on to the Brown Betties in your life and --Stay Cool!

~xo

Peppur Chambers
The Hot One

The Brown Bettie Boop
By Peppur Chambers

Hayley Maire Norman

Actress, Model

If people come into your life for a season or a reason, then Miss Hayley Marie Norman has potentially come into my life for the sole reason of keeping my ass on the treadmill that much longer! Over the past year we've become gym buddies and during that time, I've seen her career grow leaps 'n bounds. Our schedules did not permit a one-on-one conversation, so we conducted our interview over Myspace.

You have a picture of yourself with Donald Trump, aka "The Donald", on your myspace page. How did that come about?
Mr. Donald Trump has actually become a friend of mine. My friend Lindsay Clubine, introduced us after he appeared on Deal or No Deal. I've had the opportunity to hang out with him on various occasions, and this time was particularly fun because it was for his birthday celebration. They flew us to NY where we stayed at The Trump Towers and ate at the amazing Jean Georges. We then took his private helicopter to Atlantic City where the party was held. I've had the opportunity to go to some really cool events of his. He honestly is a great guy!

We've spent some time together side-by-side on the treadmill; how much time/miles are you up to these days?
lol...Although I still use the treadmill at least a few times a week, I just recently took up Bikram Yoga which I am really excited about! I love it!!

And how is your relationship with the stairmaster going?
The stair master and I are still great friends :) Although, it is a love/hate relationship.

You've had a busy first quarter. Tell us a little of what you've done....
I just completed a lead in a feature film based on a comic book, called Trailer Park of Terror. In case the name didn't give it away, it's a horror film. We honestly had a great cast and crew who have done amazing work. We have some huge studios looking at the film for a theatrical distribution so hopefully it'll be in a theater near you in about a year or so. I also booked a role on The Young and The Restless, and completed a supporting role in another film called Broken Windows. And, I go back to Deal or No Deal in July! So, its been busy, and I expect it to get busier and busier!

Editor insert: If it is solely up to fans, Hayley will be swamped! "franz69" a fan from IMDB (Internet Movie Database) wrote: "I am in love with this woman. She is perfect. I love watching her on tv and I cant wait to see her larger than life on the big screen. I will see [Trailer Park of Terror] just to see her."


What has been your favorite red carpet experience thus far?
I love the glamour of the whole red carpet experience, so I'd have to say all of them! The whole experience of getting ready and preparing can be so fun. Its like prom all over again but way better! :)

What was your first acting role? (Remember, no role is too big or too small!)
Well, I started modeling and doing children’s shows when I was 7. My first commercial was for JC Penney’s! I believe my first TV show was a Disney Family Channel Show called the Great Pretenders. Fergie was the host, but at the time she was Stacey Ferguson of Wild Orchid. The premise of the show was child actors/dancers/ singers performing their favorite musical acts, and then the studio audience voted on one. I got first place!!!

What is one goal you wish to accomplish by the end of 2007?
MORE ACTING ROLES!!! MORE MORE MORE!

Do you like a Bad Boy or Lady's Man? (why/why not)
I like men who look like Bad Boys on the outside, but are tender intellectuals (wow! That sounds soo corny!) on the inside, and of course someone who knows how to treat women. Lady's Men tend to be really into themselves...


For more on Miss Hayley, visit: www.myspace.com/hayleymarienorman

Two Sides To Every Love Story
By The Editor

In honor of Father’s Day, and in yet another way to explore two sides to a love story, I thought it would be interesting to see how we choose a mate when we are a “one” trying to become a “two”.

We’ve read that women tend to choose men who are like their fathers. I did a little research (and I mean a little: just one Google-search worth of research) and found this "Daily Mail" article touting how women choose men who resemble their fathers. I’m a bit more curious about factors beyond resemblance; I want to know this: If a woman has a Bad Boy for a father, will she be doomed (ok, “more likely”) to choose a Bad Boy for her partner? Now, I’d presume my pops is a Bad Boy. I think he’d agree in that he’s pretty confident, handsome, charming, fun-to-be around when its Margarita time…and he’s known to not return my phone calls occasionally (ha!). He’s a great father and we have a great relationship; you can ask my mom or my stepmom about the other qualities that they might feel might make him more of a Bad Boy. So, you can see where I’m going with this. Yes, this about me. I tend to chose Bad Boys. That’s ok, because I’m aware of it and we’ve already established in our first issue that there’s nothin’ wrong with a Bad Boy! Yet, I’m curious. I want to know what other girls think…:

1. If we have a Bad Boy for a father, are we forever destined for Bad Boyness?

Babette (not her real name) says ~
I grew up without [my father] for much of my life after my parent’s divorce...I think that for me...rather than choose a mate that acts like him...I live in constant fear of abandonment.

Kalia says:
I think this can hold true when woman are younger. We often times are acting from learned behavior (of our fathers) and until we are taught or experience otherwise we subconsciously veer toward men with these same tendencies. As we mature and learn from our experiences with men, the real type of man that we desire will become apparent and that is who we will search for in our quest for a long-term mate.

Terri says:
[Well, Terri did not actually answer this question for some reason, but the answer can kinda be found in her answer to the last question.]

2. Is your father a Bad Boy? If “Yes”, do you think he thinks he’s a bad boy?

Babette (again, not her real name)~
He's not a rolling stone or anything like that...but for much of his life stretched the truth out of a sense of wanting things to be grander than they were. [No, I don’t think he thinks he’s a Bad Boy.]

Kalia ~
Yes; Oh he knows it!


2a. If “No”, do you think he wishes he were a Bad Boy?

Babette ~
No.

Terri ~
No. My father is a man. He is not afraid to be sweet and loving, but he can handle his business. He has a sense of humor. He is always educating himself, reading, attending classes on subjects he's interested in. He is a shoulder to lean on. He is a man of faith.

3. What kind of man are you most attracted to?

Babette (still not her name) ~
[That’s a] loaded question, but men who are competent, self assured, thoughtful, logical and whole with a little of jerk sprinkled on top are very attractive. Fit too.

Kalia ~
I'm attracted to a man who has a presence about himself that I recognize to be positive and forward moving. He has to be fun and very much into me! ;o)

Terri ~
A man who is independent. A man who is cuddly in a way with one really charming quality i.e. he has a nice voice or he writes and sings songs. It doesn't have anything to do with his size, but I like a man who can make me feel safe and loved. I don't usually go out with these guys. Guys like my father I usually make my friends. Boyfriends don't last, but friends do just like fathers.

In My Solitude
By Anonymous Cornstarch

In a tiny moment of solitude, I rested my weary head against my car’s headrest while waiting for a evening meeting to begin. I turned and stared for an oddly long time at an overturned, beat-up silver grocery cart abandoned on the sidewalk outside my friend’s apartment. I wondered, “Why??” Why was the cart just … there? To add insult to my injured solitude, a small plastic bag was stuck to it.

I wasn’t sure if I was more intrigued with the plastic bag or the cart. I’d assumed the cart was there due to socio-economic reasons, i.e. the people in the neighborhood had to walk to the grocery store and used the cart to get food back home to the family; as opposed to derelict reasons, i.e. some kids used the cart for a joy ride. The plastic bag was clearly there due to negligence. I’d just listened to a story on NPR [National Public Radio] regarding the abolition of plastic bags in a small town in New Zealand (or somewhere; the guy being interviewed had an accent that sounded like a person from South Africa). The small town grocery stores had done away with all plastic bags and began using a biodegradable bag made of cornstarch that, as I listened to story, began to imagine would simply disintegrate after use… “poosh…Bye-Bye”. Seeing that white plastic bag stuck steadfast to the grocery cart, I’d wished that the New Zealander’s would get their cornstarch to Van Nuys where I was so I could enjoy my moment of solitude.

Unzipped
By Cecilie Davis Carter

I’ve been told I am NICE, KIND, SWEET, UNDERSTANDING, and LOVEABLE. In tough situations I’m usually the one who remains calm and Zen-like. Most times when I’m around, there will be very little discord. In fact, one of my close friends jokingly said that I should name my first born “Harmony.” With me there is pretty much always LOVE, PEACE, and HAPPINESS...

UNLESS...

UNLESS that little Hyundai that is in the FAST lane on the 405 going 20 MPH is holding EVERYONE up…Don’t they know that I have an audition to be at in 20 minutes? (Along with everyone else in LA who is on the freeway at noon on a Monday!)

UNLESS the couple who decides to bring their 2-week old kid to the almost 3-hour 10:00PM showing of Pirates of the Caribbean, sits RIGHT BEHIND ME and of course…CRIES during the IMPORTANT PARTS! (I knew she was a newborn because after the movie I sarcastically asked mom how old her little bundle of joy was!)

UNLESS a crowded elevator can barely unload at the floor level of The Grove parking lot because the overly anxious people who have been waiting are trying to get on before any of us can GET OFF! (RUDE)

UNLESS the grotesquely hairy, sweaty man who has on shorts that are way too little and is riding the stationary bike right in front of me in the crowded 24-hour Fitness spinning class KEEPS PASSING GAS! That is so NASTY.

UNLESS the gross no-manners-having girl who was in the bathroom stall before me decides to drop her used Maxi pad (that has NOT been folded up or wrapped up in toilet paper) on the floor….AND LEAVES IT THERE! Does she not know what that little box is for that is conveniently located right next to the toilet? (She probably didn’t wash her hand either!)

UNLESS that really skinny girlfriend we all have with the perfect body complains that she has to go on a diet because she’s FAT, but she only says it so you will tell her that she’s perfect, and doesn’t need to change a thing!

UNLESS the FINE guy who can pull any girl on his looks alone, and who just so happens to be a “close talker” opens up his mouth and has SERIOUS HALITOSIS… (That’s not ok.)
Unless you are an offender of the above, you will always get the nice, sweet, kind, loveable ME. However, if you are guilty of any of these annoying idiosyncrasies, you will see me UNZIPPED!

Harlem’s Love Story…

For your reading enjoyment, find the second installment of “Harlem’s Awakening”…This is the “True Hollywood Story” (as it were) behind the love affair between Joe and Harlem that plays out in the cabaret, “Harlem’s Night”.

Corner of Debauchery.....Chapter 2
Her black-velvet heels clicked along the sidewalk with speed one would use to hurriedly catch a glimpse of a gruesome dead person hanging from an automobile window before the ambulance people covered him with a sheet. She knew this combination of panic, fear and excitement all too well; it coursed through her veins daily and often caused her to walk much too quickly. She decided to slow down; she had just passed nosy Mrs. Jones, the widow of 147th street, who seemed to live on her front stoop rather than inside her home. Harlem realized that her breathy “Good Evenin’” would become food for Mrs. Jones’ table of gossip tomorrow morning. She could just hear Mrs. Jones and the gaggle of women who gathered daily on her stoop…“That gal was rushin’ off somewhere like her life depended on it”… “Up to no good since her mother died.”

Her mother had died of a rare case of tuberculosis last November. The disease came in like a hurricane. Its’ unsuspecting raindrops swelled into a beast that raged with reckless abandon as it ravaged her mother’s petite frame. And when it left quietly, it took her mother with it. Harlem briskly tightened her lace gloves about her fingers. It hadn’t been quite yet a year since the taking and the mere thought of her mother caused her to cry and she would not allow any tears to ruin her barely-dry mascara. She fell back into the rhythm of her heels as she passed Lenox Avenue. One more block east and another south, and she’d be at the Cornett Lounge.

The Lounge anchored a corner of what Mrs. Jones and her congregation would call debauchery. Several doors down, a liquor store welcomed thirsty consumers with a bright orange neon sign. Its customers and those who preyed on them (namely numbers runners and call girls – one of whom Harlem knew from grammar school but chose at this moment to not recognize) littered the sidewalk. Next to the liquor store, Charlie’s Fried Chicken kept stomachs full late into the night. Harlem had gone there herself with Joe one night after one of his sets. She found nothing wrong with the block and it’s prejudicially labeled “debauchery”. In fact, she welcomed its contained chaos.

Harlem paused to carefully dab the sheer layer of perspiration that danced just above her red ruby lip and beneath her nose. She should have taken the bus. Next time, she promised herself. She inhaled, taking in the faint scent of chicken grease, and pushed through the heavy door. (The Cornett wasn’t classy enough for a door man.) Inside, she was immediately enveloped in warm darkness and a wave of sound. Had she been high on opium, say, she’d swear she could actually see jazz-induced music notes and intact words from a smattering of unsophisticated male-female conversation floating through the wisps of tobacco smoke. She closed her eyes, inhaled once again and allowed herself to become one with all that swirled around her. This could be her heaven.

She bought a loose Camel from the passing “Cigar? Cigarette?” girl who looked like she’d seen better days. She turned and a thrill chill ran through her as she spotted Joe on stage, his head bowed as in prayer, his fingers hard at work on his Bass…she moved, sauntered really, to her favorite spot at the bar which allowed her a centered view of handsome Joe. Her swaying hips caught the attention of several men; one tipped his hat in appreciation. She thanked him politely with a faint smile and coyly shifted her attention back to Joe as she eased onto her cushioned bar stool. She removed her gloves. Unbuttoned her jacket. Smoothed her skirt. Just as she turned to get a light from Scotty, the not-so-handsome-but-very-charming-bartender, she heard, “Harrrrlm. Harrrlm Evans!” It was Harold, her friend Cora’s boyfriend. Never did she hate the sound of her own name more than when it got hurled through the garbled gates of hell known as Harold Crossgrove’s mouth.

(c)2007 Pen and Peppur LLC

Momma Said
By Vicki Rogers

"Bananas"

When I was just a single-digit young girl, my Grandfather Rogers, who in his prime was a burly and strong man, had a stroke. When he became very ill my Grandmother Rogers took care of him at home. I don’t remember his voice, but I do remember his decline: at first he walked with a cane; then he was confined to a wheelchair; and finally he was bedridden until his death when I was in my early double-digits. When he was still walking with a cane I remember he taught me how to whistle but that is just about the only pleasant memory I have of him. This is largely because my grandfather ate bananas. He loved bananas. Long ago on Saturday nights, in my grandmother’s house, we used to mash them up and feed them to him. I remember my grandmother always let the bananas get over ripe then; they were easier to mash she said, easier for grandpa to swallow. Sitting in his wheel chair in the living room with his constant disappointed stare, he’d point with his last straight finger to bananas on this sort of cardboard food Ouija (“Wee-Gee”) board she had made with all his favorites on it. I watched him while everyone else watched Ted Mack's Original Amateur Hour on television. His tongue used to scare me when I was eight, the way he used it like a spatula to scrape the brownish pulp back and forth between those toothless gums. The banana, the consistency of snot, would squish out the sides of his mouth like drool. I thought it was so gross and I gave bananas up for a long while. I have issues with bananas to this day; but now, with one molar missing, I’ve begun to eat bananas again.

Editor’s Edict~

The Brown Betties gazette was created to explore our unique love, hate, wants and needs as Brown women. This issue speaks to this exploration with several voices offering their personal experiences that have helped make them who they are. In turn, I think when you digest their morsels of literary loveliness, you’ll see yourself in their eyes. Graph Nobel, a powerful vocal artist and our featured Brown Bettie, offers what inspires her self-expression. Carol Sims gives us a peak into why she is “Afraid” in “In My Solitude” and Megan Hughes reminds us how cherished life is in “Unzipped”. Terri Jackson reminisces of tender moments with her father in “A Lady Looks For Her Nest” and please enjoy our first fiction entry with the premier chapter of “Harlem’s Awakening” which is the back-story on the love affair between the characters Harlem and Joe of Harlem’s Night Cabaret. Finally, have a chuckle with my mom through her story of her four-mile trek in the Arizona heat in “Momma Said”. Enjoy!

~xo

Peppur Chambers

A Brown Bettie Who Gets It
By Peppur Chambers

Graph Nobel



Meet Graph Nobel (“No’bel”) a singer/songwriter from Toronto, Ontario Canada who, in her petite frame, tames a giant hypnotic force that captures you like a spell when you’re in her presence...just as Billie Holiday did.


We missed each other the last time Graph was in LA, so we conducted this interview via our MySpace email accounts:

I saw you on stage at the Roots Annual Grammy Jam Session at Key Club in '06 and again this year. I thought, "That girl is cool! I want to be like her!" In my world, that means you are a Brown Bettie! Describe what makes you that woman on stage:
When I'm onstage everything that is bottled in me must come out…The fun, the passion, my rage, my sadness. I have no fear letting it out. Plus I love, love, love 2 have fun!!

When did you know that singing was a way you could express yourself?
It was hip hop that inspired me to have a voice, Rap music addressed so many issues that pop music did not, racism, politics, overt sexuality, black community struggles and history that is not offered in text books. A Tribe Called Quest really did it for me, when I saw/heard Low End Theory I was like, "now that's my kind of black" not the Whitney Houston or Pebbles or whatever else pop music thought young black girls are supposed to be into. I'm still like that now I'm all about the Clipse, Kenna, Martina Topley-Bird not Rihanna or Fantasia.

Is singing and/or performing on stage still the best way for you to express yourself? Why/why not? {i.e. Have you found anything else that makes you feel as good or as powerful or as sexy/sultry/sassy?}
Any artform I can put my opinion into makes me feel powerful, I've been working on a musical, a graphic novel, a gallery show. Knowing what I want makes me feel sexy whether I'm ordering off a menu, making an important decision or hunting a new fling. Confidence is the most important ingredient in sexy.


If you are in a reincarnated form, who or what do you think you were before?
Dorothy Parker- I wish I was her previously.

[Dorothy Parker was an American Poet known for her wit and sarcasm. The following poems are from Enough Rope: Poems by Dorothy Parker (1926) I chose them because they made me laugh - pc]

Observation
If I don't drive around the park,
I'm pretty sure to make my mark.
If I'm in bed each night by ten,
I may get back my looks again,
If I abstain from fun and such,
I'll probably amount to much,
But I shall stay the way I am,
Because I do not give a damn.

One Perfect Rose
A single flow'r he sent me, since we met.
All tenderly his messenger he chose;
Deep-hearted, pure, with scented dew still wet --
One perfect rose.
I knew the language of the floweret;
"My fragile leaves," it said, "his heart enclose."
Love long has taken for his amulet
One perfect rose.
Why is it no one ever sent me yet
One perfect limousine, do you suppose?
Ah no, it's always just my luck to get
One perfect rose.

What were you like when you were five years old?
Exactly what I am now: a child who listens to music all the time and dancing to it.

What do you do in your solitude?
In solitude:
write write write
read read read
dream dream dream


Do you consider yourself "A Lady", "A Bad Girl" or some combination of both? Why?
I'm a good girl with a bad streak. I'm pretty straight and narrow, cool as a fan, but as a teenager hung out with hustlers and guns, and I have continuos suicidal thoughts that haunt me.

When did you learn that there are two sides to every love story? {i.e., Nothing is easy about love}
After being in love with one person so strong, and then also having the thought of killing them too. I wrote a song about it called "Something 2 die 4". Causing bodily harm to someone may fall under bad streak, but after watching hollywood films or listening to Miss Otis sung by Ella Fitzgerald or Stan (Eminem) or Hey Joe (Hendrix), I consider it to be normal.

What's one thing your momma said (or an equivalent) that you'll never forget?
Mom says: Jump high, jump low, if it's meant for you, you will have it.

What's on the horizon for you? (Any horizon)
Planning to collaborate with Brown Betties. Playing the shit out of the west coast, keep recording, more writing.

Graph’s favorites and potential influences copied straight from her MySpace page: No Doubt, SWV, Nas!!, OutKast, Jay-Z!!, The Stills, Bad Brains, Jodeci, Michael Jackson, Prince, Res, Esthero, Shawn Hewitt, Muja Messiah, Raw Villa, Jeen O'Brien, Hawksley Workman, Sarah Slean, Bob Marley, Blondie, Pat Benetar, Garbage, A Tribe Called Quest, Mobb Deep, Yeah Yeah Yeah's, Stiffed, Ammoye, Bjork!!!, Beyonce, Bloc Party, The Bricks, Kobe James, Chuck Treece, The Cardigans, The Cure!!, Kanye West, Ludacris, Masta Ace, Missy Elliott, Grace Jones, The Police, Portishead, The Pretenders!!!, Queens, The Roots, Wutang!!, Abacus, LAL, The Dears, Big Leeks, Jay Dee, M.I.A., Fleetwood Mac, Peaches.

Contact Graph and listen to her smashing tracks like Biznz or Plzr at: www.myspace.com/graphnobel

Two Sides [to every love story]

Note-To-Self:
Text messaging is no longer romantic or cute.

Remember this when trying to spark a relationship with a new guy in hopes of creating a “smitten” love story with said new guy.

In My Solitude
Poetic offering from Carol Sims aka Bubblin B Suga dated May 10, 2002

AFRAID

I am afraid afraid to feel you
yet I feel you deep down
I am feeling your feelings

I am afraid to let my feelings flow
yet they flood your world

afraid that too much too soon
will be too much kissing and hugging and touching
and looking and oozing and boozing up on love feelings

I can hear you when I'm not listening
and I stop breathing just to listen....
then I shudder because
I can feel you and I am afraid

so afraid that when our eyes meet
I smile fearing that you will feel me too

i am afraid of knowing love again
afraid of the up and down of it all
afraid to be free and
let you catch up with me
and hold me closer than before

I am so afraid oflettingyou
that I've waited for you
all my life and now
you're here
and
I'm speechless at the thought of knowing
you are ready
to keep me

butterflies!!!

afraid to let you go when we part
afraid of those long tight embraces
that will eventually will squeeze

an
I love you

out of me

Unzipped
By Megan Hughes

So, she is one of my best friends. My girl. Call to talk. Call to listen. Call to bitch. Just call to call. We help each other keep it together…keep things in order…keep things zipped. Been through a lot too…partying days, relationship drama, family issues, personal pain, career growth, hilariously embarrassing I can’t share with you moments, birth of kids (and I do mean kids “plural”…times 5), and then THIS…

THIS. A phone call on a Saturday evening, I hear her voice, so weak, so sad…”my baby’s gone, she died in my arms”.

THIS. A long lonely flight to her home, I hold her tight fighting back my tears, trying to be strong.

THIS. A sleepless night, I listen to her cries from the bedroom above and her prayers for help holding on.

THIS. A mournful morning, I help one of her daughters put on her Easter dress and shoes, but Easter is still days away.

THIS. A cold, rainy day, at a church packed with people, I watch her fall to her knees in front of a tiny white coffin and beg the Lord, through tears and cries, not to take her baby girl.

This. A day when I realized that no matter how hard we had tried, it just wasn’t in our control. Nothing was together…everything was out of order…and it all had just come UNZIPPED.

-- -- --
I can’t capture the emotions from this time. It is still not real to me and the pain and sorrow that I felt over this time…I can’t explain. Seeing her in so much pain was one of the absolute saddest moments of my life. Without a doubt.

A Lady Looks For Her Nest
By Terri Jackson

My father used to rescue baby birds that had fallen from their nests onto our lawn, saving them from being caught in the rotating blades of his lawn mower on Saturday mornings in the spring. He would call us, my little brother and me, out to see them. He’d say, “Now that they’ve fallen out of the nest the mother won’t come back for them.” He would scoop the babies up in newspaper and put them in an old birdcage we had in the garage. My brother and I would try to make the cage inviting by laying newspaper down and putting in twigs and feathers that we found in the yard, as if the baby bird could build its own nest. We would leave water in a plastic bottle top and collect worms and chop them up. Since their mother abandoned them they were our responsibility. The birds were always tiny; their feathers appeared wet, creating the very thinnest layer of warmth for their bodies. Their necks strained upwards. Their beaks open. They would make the tiniest reed-thin noise. They waited for their mother to fly back and drop food into them, cover them with her warm body and make them feel safe. At night we would cover the bird cage with a blanket to keep the chicks warm, but invariably when we would check on them in the morning the baby bird would be laying at the bottom of the cage, on its side, its beak open, dead and stiff. The birds weren’t guaranteed a long life. My father believes that everyone deserves a little caring, and love even if you can’t save them from their fate. My father is a good man. My father has character. To this day, I still think that he knows something about everything. My father took time with his children, and taught my brother and my sister, and probably even my mother lessons about what it means to appreciate your blessings and live your life with integrity and respect for those around you -- even tiny birds that fall out of their nests onto your lawn.

I was that bird when I was younger when I lived with my parents. I didn’t fall out of the nest; rather I left willingly, all of my feathers intact. I had stowed away all of the lessons my father and my mother taught me. A Lady in waiting, I wear them like a fine coat of armor that keeps the harm out, but gives me the confidence to take the risk of letting other people in. After so many years away of finding myself and living like an adult in New York, I feel like I can go back and build my own nest.