Short and Sweet: Roberto's Review of Lolo's Seafood Shack

I recently dined at Lolo's seafood shack in Harlem. I learned of the restaurant through a website I browse from time to time (www.idontdoclubs.com.)   I decided to take a trip with Candace.  As you step inside Lolo's you quickly notice how small it is, but the decor is nice and they have outdoor seating.  I was happy with the service and the person taking orders suggested The Crispy Shark Sandwich ($11.) I enjoyed every inch of it. My only criticism about  Lolo's would be the food is over priced.  Eleven dollars is a lot for a fish sandwich without anything included. Candace loved her Crab Cake Sandwich with bacon and we both promised to return again.

This is Why They're Mad :)

A Return to the Bad Old Days

By Roberta Cardwell

At almost 70, I think I would attend a protest at a Trump rally.  The white people who support Trump are angry, they want to make America white again.  Black folks have been angry for 400 years.   Having grown up in segregation, I am not interested in going back to the time when these people thought America was so great.

When I came to New York in 1970, I, like many who preceded me in the Great Migration, thought I was coming to America’s greatest city where things would, of course, be better.  They were and they weren’t.  I could eat in any restaurant, but I remember how upset and angry I was when I realized all the black folks were seated together in the back next to the kitchen.  I could shop in any department store and actually try on clothes, but someone still followed me around expecting that I would steal.  I was mistaken for a prostitute when I was out at night trying to catch a cab.  And forget trying to get a cab to go Uptown. (Or, when I cab finally pulls up in front of us, some white women running and jumping in it.  Remember that Candace?)  So, no, I don’t want to return to those times or the times before when things were even worse for black folks.

I can understand why these Trump supporters are so upset.  They see a browning of America, a time when they may no longer be the dominant culture.  Beyonce and Bruno Mars headline The Superbowl.  Kanye.  Adele singing rap. We even have a black President!! A man who is calm, but not ashamed of showing emotion, smart and articulate (a Republican candidate recently criticized him for using complex sentences). And a beautiful, classy, well-educated First Lady, probably the best I have ever seen...and I liked Laura Bush.  

These Trump supporters find themselves stuck in stagnant, low paying jobs with little hope of advancement or pay increases.  They can’t afford to buy a house. Their communities are being racked with heroin addiction (which for them it is a health problem, not a crime problem and for whom someone recently proposed providing with clean, safe places in which to shoot up). Record numbers are killing themselves from alcoholism and drug abuse.  Their life expectancy, as a result, is going down.  For many black people this is the life they know.   Trump supporters don’t want to be down there with us;  they want to remain better than us.  So they are angry and scared..

So am I.

Guest Blogger: Roberto! Michael Jordan's Steakhouse

I loved the food at Michael Jordan's Steakhouse. I really enjoyed the appetizers, and the fish and dessert were great. The service was good, and I'm looking forward to my next visit with the same awesome company!

Is it Friday Yet?

All middle-school teachers have had some version of this experience.

You are in the middle of a dynamic lesson where what you have planned has come alive in a way that you didn’t expect.  The faces of your students are knotted in concentration. The mesmerizing glow of laptops and phones has, for a moment, lost its magic and the devices lie abandoned in pockets and book bags.  Hands shoot into the air as students wait patiently (and not so patiently) to speak.    

In the back of the classroom you see someone slowly lift her arm.  She is slumped down into her chair with her meticulously highlighted hair fanning out against the whiteboard.  Her down jacket is zipped halfway up as if she hasn’t decided if she is going to go or stay.  Her very posture communicates a subtle, yet stylish, distain for your class, or the idea of school in general . . . the distinction really doesn’t matter.

As is often the case, this is a student who has strong skills, but for whatever reason, has been disconnected from your lessons.  Until now she has been immune to all of your usual tricks to get students to care about literary devices or the factors leading to The Civil War.    Humor is met with a smirk, flattery goes ignored, and disappointed sighs do not penetrate her diamond-studded ears.

But there is her hand. You wait a moment before acknowledging it for fear that she is just stretching.  Finally, you call on her; excited that she may have finally connected.  Thrilled that she may, at long last, be interested in something that you are talking about.  You say her name, imagining future classes where she earns perfect scores on quizzes and completes extra credit projects just because she wants to.  You wait for her to speak, practically holding your breath in anticipation, and she says.

“Can I go to the bathroom?”