Might We Suggest: Brunch at Beacon Bar & Grill

We found it by mistake. It was our first date, and we thought that the Mayfair had brunch, and after the car dropped us off there, and we walked around for a moment, we soon realized that I had been misinformed.

We walked up the street and fortunately, there we saw it, Beacon Bar and Grill. Much to our surprise, the brunch that beautifully sunny September day was more than adequate. So, we've been back a few times since, and though we've been to other spots in the city, for true quality and service, nothing tops Beacon Bar & Grill's Sunday Brunch.

Two weeks ago we went after a nice afternoon at the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History, and we had a wonderful time.

Our first round of action was full of leafy greens, salads, and generally good veggies. The next round of food was more brunch specific, with breakfast faves mixed in with good lunch time staples for good measure. And while dining on all of this while seated in a nice corner booth, despite the packed house, the restaurant wasn't loud like Georgia Brown's. It was a very sunny day, and the shades were drawn just so that the light helped create ambiance instead of overpowering it.

The staff there was excellent, and neither our water glasses nor our dry Mimosa glasses were ever empty.

The last course was the piece de resistance. We had cheesecake, apple pie and a layered chocolate cake. The cheesecake was so good that I had to go back and get another piece. It was a smart decision, because maybe it was the temperature in the room, the sunny day, the Mimosas and definitely my company, but that cheesecake was literally the best I'd ever tasted.

I'm sure there are better brunches in town by some measure, but the food offerings, the ambiance, the service, the feel of the restaurant, and the cool tvs in the bathroom vault Beacon to the top of my list. If you're in the DC area this weekend, and you're looking for a great brunch spot, try Beacon.

Eating to Live - Yesterday's Lunch

I went to Doc Chey's yesterday in Athens and had their excellent Thai Coconut Red Curry with steamed Tofu.

Not only was it delicious, but definitely nutritious...Thai Basil, red peppers, onions, bok choy, potatoes and eggplant in rich coconut curry. The steamed Tofu set it off as well.

The plate was as colorful as it was scrumptious. Eating to Live isn't as difficult as it sounds as long as there is a balance and a strict adherence to the rules as well as an understanding about all of the parameters of what can and cannot be consumed.

I can't wait for another Spinach Smoothie.

Writing...for Love...Loving...to write

When I was in eleventh grade at Lakehill Prepartory School, English class that year was taught by Lyda Slayton. The course was British Literature.

I never really liked British Lit outside of Shakespeare, but Slayton made it even worse. She was mean, like literally mean, and she was a bit sexist. There were only six males in my class; William, Hampton, Mitch, Timmy, John and me, and I don't remember any of us ever getting a break.

Throughout the course of the year, it only got worse as she chastised us for everything. At one point, she told me that I couldn't write. She told my parents the same thing. In a parent/teacher conference she disrespected my parents, and more importantly my father by saying that I was disruptive and a bad influence and then challenging my father when he defended me. I didn't disrupt class, and I always turned my assignments in on time. The lady just didn't like any of us, flat out.

Despite all of the public harassment in her class, she was a fair grader. Now, that always surprised me. If I couldn't write, then how did I receive such high marks? That's what was so crazy about the experience. I'll never forget how I sat there in that class, and my paper on Romeo and Juliet received a 100, the highest score, and yet the praise and adoration went to two female students in the class. But the thing was, I believed her, I believed I couldn't write because my teacher told me so.

Senior year, my teacher, Mrs. LeaAnn Mott was a proponent of my writing and she definitely encouraged me to continue. She taught Senior English. When it came time to possibly take A.P. English with Slayton, or Senior English with Mott, I jumped at the chance for the latter, not because of the supposed rigor of the course but because I didn't want to spend another year being put upon.

In college it only got a little better. I'll never forget working for the student newspaper, The Maroon Tiger in the fall of 1998. I had recently been hired as the Sports Editor, and after a power struggle over the Editor in Chief position, the departing EIC wrote in his notes that I was the 'worst writer he had ever read.' But, he went on to say that my writing 'showed promise, had humor and was hard to put down.' That was Saeed Ahmed who said that. I liked Saeed before that, and less after.

After he left the newspaper, I eventually became one of, if not the most read writer on the staff and the most recognizable name in the Atlanta University Center for my journalistic efforts.

I continue to write, because I love to. I write poems, short stories, scripts, blogs and now...papers. Either way, I love to write. Yesterday, I wrote two poems, a blog entry and then a paper about the preeminent book on the desegregation of the University of Georgia, 'We Shall Not Be Moved.'

When you find something that you love to do, I don't think you should ever stop. I love to write, so I do. I love taking pictures, so I do. I love art and music, so I go to museums, read books on art and listen to all types of music.

Also, I had to realize that I couldn't listen to what others were saying, and I had to do what I wanted to do, for myself. If we are beholden to the opinions of others, we can never find happiness because what we do will not be for us, but rather for them. Every day, I am working to make that the case in my life. Just do what you love, and happiness will come, it has no choice.

Writing...for Love...Loving...to write.

...right there with us all along.

I was downtown today at lunch and I saw a student and his grandparents. My grandmother Rebecca Newberry Carlos died in 1979 on New Year's Day. I was four. My grandfather Joseph Carlos, Sr. died May 16, 1986. I was eleven and nearing the end of 5th grade. My grandfather Edward William Nelson died in October 1991. I was seventeen and a junior in high school. My grandmother Eunice Stamps Lee Nelson, lost her battle with Alzheimer's Disease in August of 1999 on the first day of school.

I didn't really get to know any of them. I'm thirty five now, and I only have limited memories of them. I wish they were here, I truly do. I wish they had all seen some things that happened for my parents, and for my siblings and for me.

I wish they'd have seen me graduate from high school. I do. I wish they'd have seen my brother graduate from Greenhill. It was a glorious day, and the party...oh, man. Dad had a live band in the living room.

This isn't a blog to feel pity for myself, because death is a part of life. But, it would just be nice if they were all here. They could've seen Jordan get married, and Marjon graduate from Hockaday, Brown and Columbia. They could've known their children as they got older.

I think I get kind of jealous when my friends have relationships with their grandparents, because I don't know what that's like. For a brief period however, my maternal grandfather lived with us, before she eventually moved to a home in Dallas where she could receive better constant care for her condition.

I have to do better. I don't want that to be the case for my kids. I wish they were here though. I do.

I wish they could meet Lauren, and see her smile, it's truly unlike anything I've ever seen. I wish they could have seen me graduate from Morehouse and later graduate from graduate school for my next two degrees.

I'm tired of wishing though. I've wished all of my life. I've taken my eyelashes and blown them out of my palm after painfully plucking them from my eyelids while making wishes big and small. On the way to meet Lauren for the first time, I was walking down 22nd and I picked a dandelion up out of the green and blew it and made a wish. Wishes, wishes, wishes.

As I write this though, I realize that they are here after all. They're in every lesson I've learned, every story I've heard, they're in my laugh, my walk, my voice, my eyes, my brother's smile and my sister's style. They are a part of us even if we don't know it or even if we don't realize it. They're here. So, in that sense, they've seen it all, and they've been right there with us all along.

Eating to Live: Day 3 Afternoon Snack

Chilled Baby Carrots and Ice Water...

Eating to Live: Day 2 Lunch at Bolton Dining Commons

To test my new found resilience in terms of the Eat to Live diet, I figured I'd use a control, the Bolton Dining Commons at the University of Georgia.

Bolton has every food imaginable; hamburger grill, hot dog grill, all day breakfast grill, entree line, vegetarian line, extensive salad bar, dessert bar, etc.

Tuesday was bbq chicken sandwich day. So...you know that was tough. Now, usually when I go to Bolton, which looks like 'The Max' from 'Saved by the Bell', I usually start off with a bacon cheddar burger, some fries, and a grilled cheese sandwich. Eventually I get a nice salad with all the trimmings, and a plate of wings of varying flavors. I usually top it all off with some soft serve fat free vanilla yogurt and chocolate chips. Oh, and I usually have sweet tea and water to drink.

But now, I'm Eating to Live. So, I headed over to the area right next to my beloved grilled cheese sandwiches, was the brown rice and pinto beans. It had to be nothing other than fate, because I'd planned on having brown rice for dinner that night!

I got a fresh plate, filled it with rice on one half and pinto beans on the other. Then I walked to the salad line, and filled a fresh bowl with spinach and cucumbers. I went back to the place where I got my beans and rice, and garnished my salad with some cooked mushrooms and onions. I got two ice waters and met Jonathan at a table that we found.

Usually I douse my salads with extensive amounts of dressing, but not today. I simply used pepper. To be honest, the lunch was good, but I wasn't full yet. I went back, and got a second plate of brown rice and beans, some steamed broccoli, and later for dessert, I had some strawberries and bananas.

Was it different? Sure. Was I full? Yes. It worked, and I felt great after, not bloated or stuffed like when I normally eat there.

Why am I doing this? I'm doing it for me and my health, and I'm doing this because Lauren suggested this for us, and she only suggests things for us that are good.

Eating to Live: Day 1 of 6 Weeks

So, Monday was the first official day of my Six Week Plan on the Eat to Live diet. After giving it some practice, and some serious practice at that last week, I felt confident enough this week to start it off in earnest.

Breakfast was oatmeal and cinnamon made with Silk. I wonder how Lauren does hers. When I was with her last, we added Splenda. I'm getting used to the oatmeal, and I'm using less and less cinnamon, which is a good thing. Fortunately, it was piping hot, because Monday morning was pretty cold in Athens.

I brought some apples with me to work, and I left my new knives at home, seeing as how we have a working kitchen at the office.

For lunch I went to Saladworks with Jonathan, and while he had what looked like a very tasty wrap sandwich, I dined on a 'make your own' salad of spinach, zucchini, squash, carrots, mushrooms and mandarin oranges. I remember Lauren always stating that the more colorful her plate is, the more she knows that she's eating good food.

Throughout the day there were no less than 5 plates full of candy from Halloween spread all over the office, but I resisted and stuck to my apples and ice water. Well, I did have some apple juice at lunch.

After a trip to the law library to write, I headed to Kroger on Alps for some weekly groceries. I bought squash, cucumbers, raw carrots, baby carrots, grapes, tomatoes, unsalted peanuts and almonds (though normally I detest them), brown rice, more apples, oranges, pears, watermelon, bananas, spinach, a head of lettuce and more of my favorite seasoning, McCormick's Grill Mates Montreal Steak Seasoning.

So, Monday night I had a nice dinner of sliced cucumbers, baby carrots and ice water. For dessert, I had some red seedless grapes that were divine.



All in all, I feel that it was a good Day 1 on my Six Week Plan. Today after work, I'm headed to GNC to purchase some flaxseed to add to my diet as well.

Why am I doing this? I'm doing it for me and my health, and I'm doing this because Lauren suggested this for us, and she only suggests things for us that are good. Besides, as I'm realizing it's more so about a change in lifestyle as it pertains to my approach to eating. I already have a great deal of energy, and to be honest despite everything going on in my head...I slept great last night and made it to work early today. I haven't done that in a while...I'll keep you posted.

Eating to Live

The other day, Lauren called me to tell me about a diet plan that she was interested in the two of us trying. The plan is called 'Eat to Live', and it was created by Dr. Joel Fuhrman.

Essentially, as she explained it to me, I had to eat a pound of raw vegetables and a pound of cooked vegetables per day, drink water, and eat all the fruit I want to. No dairy, no bread, no sugary bad stuff.

As you may know, it's November now, and in the thick of football season for the college and pro leagues, and basketball is just heating up as well. But, I'm in love with Lauren, and she only suggests things that are good for us, so I figured I'd give it a try.

Last week, I did a version of it. It wasn't so bad. It was different to get used to, believe me, and Lauren wants us to do the 6 Week Plan, which I am definitely down for, giving some obvious consideration to Thanksgiving however.

I went to the UGA main library and checked the book out, but I figured that to be serious about my commitment to the diet, and more importantly the lifestyle attached to better eating, I should purchase the book instead.

I traveled to the Brookwood Shopping Center's Borders, and picked up a paperback copy. I started reading it late last night, while dealing with quasi-insomnia induced by P&D (Public Administration and Democracy) reading.

Now, last week I made some squash with my brand new pots and pans from the Kohl's on Epps Bridge Rd. This week, I've just visited Kroger, and we're throwing some variation into the mix, and I'll update you as to my progress.

Last week I was more or less figuring things out, so my six weeks starts today; oatmeal with cinnamon, salad with cucumbers, carrots, mushrooms and celery, and a dinner of black beans, onions and tomatoes tonight while watching Mad Men and hopefully while watching the Yanks win Game 4.

Why am I doing this? Well there are several reasons, but as I mentioned before, Lauren only suggests things for us that are good for us. So, I have nothing to lose and everything to gain by changing what and how I eat.

As the week goes on, I'll update you with my menu.

This blog is less about Athens, and more about healthy living in Athens. In the future on this sixty days, I will definitely visit the Farmers Market in Bishop Park here in Athens for my fruits and vegetables, organically grown by local area farmers.

Again, why am I doing this? I'm doing this for me, for my heart, and I'm doing this to support Lauren, and as I mentioned repeatedly before, she only suggests things that are good for us, and eating to live is definitely something that I feel will be good for us.

My only question is...will we have to give up Georgia Brown's brunch?

17 Miles on the Open Road

It hit me on Saturday night, late. We should go for a bike ride.

So, Sunday around 11AM me and Lauren headed down to Thompson Boat Center in Georgetown. I'd gone online the night before and seen the rates, and the options for time and distance.

We found a great parking spot outside of News Cafe, where we'd had our 3rd date. After 3 tries at parallel parking on M, I finally got it right. I got Lauren's door and we headed out to the TBC.

Walking down M we took a right down Thomas Jefferson and walked under the Whitehurst Freeway, hand in hand. The sun was hitting the buildings in a beautiful morning-like way. It was one of those perfect DC days; blue sky, cloudless, a chill in the air but the warmth of the sun on our skin.

We walked by the fountain outside of Sequoia, took a left and before we knew it, we were at the Boat Center renting two bikes.

They were blue. Blue like 'Carolina' blue or 'Columbia' blue. Blue like my parents old VW bug from 1979. Blue like the sky. And they were called 'Cruisers'. With only foot breaks, a bell on one and handle bars with a black molded pleather seat that was set as low as it could go for each of us.

Lauren was so ready to ride, that she took off first. We did some circles in the lot near the boathouse and before you knew it, we were riding.

Stopping and starting was an issue at first, but before we knew it, we were out there, riding the Mount Vernon Trail, with the Potomac on the right and the Kennedy Center and The Watergate on the left.

The first hill was easy. A mild one at best, and it led to the (Theodore Roosevelt) Memorial Bridge, greeted by those larger than life golden sculptures that were a gift to the United States from Italy. Lauren was out in front, leading the us. She was amazing.

I could see the little bounces in the curly tendrils of her hair as we crossed the bridge. We turned up by Arlington National Cemetery and then crossed road after road until we finally got on the trail again.

Sure there were others out there, walking their bikes initially just like us. One woman even remarked, "Those were meant for riding!" 'Get the hell outta here!' I thought. We'd be riding soon enough.

There was the trail, pristine and curvy. We found it, and before you knew it, we were on it. The water was to the left, the trees were our canopy. And we were together; riding, breathing, moving, discovering.

"Let's go all the way to the airport!" Lauren said. So we did, and the Washington Monument and Jefferson were at our left in the Tidal Basin. We rode on, as the hills became more profound, and before I knew it, we were at Gravelly Point dodging speedsters and casual riders like us and noticing the rugby game to our right. The massive planes flying overhead didn't deter us as we kept riding.

I looked up and noticed that we were really at the airport. I mean, when she mentioned it ten minutes earlier, I thought, "sure Honey, we'll get there..." but we literally were there, and we kept moving, riding on.

We saw boat after boat, and people in kayaks and canoes. We went over cement paths, wooden paths and through swamp like areas. "Could we still be in Virginia?" I thought. It was so serene and beautiful.

"Let's go to Old Town, Joe. It's been so long since I've seen the water." "Okay Baby, let's do it." I said.

She charged ahead and found the right path, against the rocks and close to a mural that depicted the history of Virginia and the Potomac. I couldn't catch her, she was going so fast. I really couldn't. I mean, I thought I was really in shape, really conditioned with my time in the gym and on the elliptical machines, but no. She was the one who was conditioned, she was the one who had the stamina.

We rode and rode and she called out, "That's Potomac Yards Joe!" I couldn't believe it. We'd passed Crystal City and were really bearing down on Alexandria and Old Town. We kept riding until we were in a business park area and then a park near the water. I looked up, and the street sign said, "S. Union St." We'd made it to Old Town.

Now, when you're riding in D.C. you don't need a helmet, Virginia is different altogether. So, we started walking our bikes until we saw things we recognized like more cobblestones and the Torpedo Art building. We got to Union St. and King St. We were there. We'd made it! We'd made it just like she said we would. We'd made it...together.

We walked the bikes over to Starbucks and had some water and tea and some snacks. Lauren said a prayer, and then we started back out again. It took us about two hours to make it to Alexandria. We stretched, took swigs of water and pedaled and pedaled and pedaled. This time, our destination was Georgetown.

We rode and rode and the only obstacle that came up were the gnats. They were everywhere. Gnats, gnats, gnats. I pulled the legs up on my Princeton sweats, and pulled the sleeves up to my forearms and rode on. Sweating lightly from my forehead, I looked up and noticed she was so far ahead of me that I couldn't catch up. "Lauren!" I called out, and she slowed down for me. I caught her, and we were close from that point on.

The ride was like watching a movie. A movie about a couple in love, riding bikes, enjoying life without a care in the world but each other's happiness. And that's exactly how it felt.

The ride back was smooth and shorter. We saw a unicyclist. He was MOVING. We watched him so intently that we lost course at Memorial Bridge. We rode over the bridge together and by the massive steps behind the Lincoln Memorial, under bridges that 3 hours earlier we wouldn't have dared tried to ride, right there next to traffic.

When she directed us back up onto the path, we were right back at The Watergate and then the Kennedy Center and in the distance, floating towards us, the Boat Center. We rode on and smoothly came back to the front office.

I settled up with the front desk, got some cold water from the back and we walked triumphantly back through Georgetown, up Thomas Jefferson and near the canal. That canal that is so integral to what Georgetown is and for some people still stands for. The beautiful homes, sharing walls, with huddled people walking to and fro between the water and M Street and then later up M and towards the 'Exorcist' steps, ah Georgetown. In D.C., nothing seems as bright, or crisp or fun and the air is never so alive or sweet as it is in Georgetown.

So romantic, so real, so vibrant, so Sunday. So me and her.

Later we looked at it, and realized that we'd ridden seventeen miles on the open road from Georgetown's Thompson Boat Center to Old Town in Alexandria, VA. If we could do that on a whim, we can do anything.

17 Miles on the Open Road.

The Weekend and Other Thoughts

On Saturday, I helped my friends Spence, Allison, Neil and Toy with their company, Black Tie BBQ. They were selling their wonderfully scrumptious food at the Decatur BBQ and Blues Festival in the hip enclave of East Lake/Oakhurst.

Back in college, I lived in this neighborhood, right up the street on Spence Avenue. If I ever live in Atlanta again, I will probably live over there. I love the vibe of the neighborhood; it's a little 'come as you are' mixed with liberal sensibilities but still with a serious work ethic and a genuine sense of community.

Anyway, Black Tie BBQ had a big day, and despite the vendors who have been in business longer, Black Tie held its own serving up the skewered shrimp (the only retailer at the event with BBQ seafood), skewered chicken, brats and corn on the cob...all hot off the grill.

We were out there all day, and despite the weather reports for rain, the sky didn't really open up until the very end of the night; which still didn't stop the crowds, nor did it stop me from going out in the rain and getting some more brats. All in all, Black Tie BBQ won the day and the event.

On Sunday, I spent the day with my friends JC and Will. Both are classmates of mine from college, and our topics of discussion were: golf (Tiger almost pulled it out), pro football, Marion Barry (wonderful documentary on HBO), the Sopranos, and our personal attempts at world domination.

Will is going to dominate the world through Agri-Science in South Georgia (laugh if you want to, but please read up on this burgeoning field). JC through legal means and big deals and me through revolutionizing Higher Education for ALL students. And to top off the great day, JC and I hit up JR Crickets on Cascade for wings and things and I watched True Blood, Mad Men and Entourage; definitely a full day.

I have a beef with Athens however that I must get off of my chest. At the bookstore here at UGA, there is a working Clinique counter, but nowhere in town can I buy Kiehl's. This makes no sense. Sure, I can buy it online and get it in a few days, and normally with free shipping, but the same buyer's assurance is lacking when not done from an actual Kiehl's store like the one at Lenox in Atlanta! It's annoying to say the least! Get it together Athens.

Breakfast in Athens: Five Star Day Cafe

On those mornings that Honey Nut Cheerios in vanilla Silk just won't cut it, I simply walk across the street from my office in the austere Terrell Hall on the North Campus Quad at the University of Georgia, and head to Five Star Day Cafe.

Five Star is conveniently located on Broad St. Broad is the closest thing to a main drag that Athens, GA has. There is outside seating, that greets you first, followed by the scintillating scents that waft outside from the visible kitchen within the restaurant. A self titled, 'Gourmet Soul' cafe that was founded in 1998, it's slogan, 'come and get your love' couldn't be any more fitting for this wonderfully quaint eatery perfectly situated in the middle of a bustling college town.

Admittedly, the entryway is a bit cramped. It must be because the door has to be the original, and unlike many other doors in Athens that once allowed for hoop skirts, this one is pretty narrow. Either way, if people are trying to leave and enter at the same time, there's a small traffic jam.

Normally, I've already ordered ahead, and that order could be anything from the Southern Fried Chicken sandwich, Five Star Benedict, True Grits, or my personal favorite, the Bacon Egg'n Cheese. On weekends, during their brunch menu which is available all day, it's the Scramble of the Day.

The mission is simple; good food at an affordable price. The tables are a bit cramped there, and you may share a large table with someone you don't necessarily know, but hey, it's Athens.

The wait for your food is never long, and before you know it, while enjoying your water, Cheerwine or perfectly blended sweet tea, there it comes from that little window near the back. The best seat in the restaurant has to be the window seat that seats four, and overlooks Broad St. and UGA's North Campus. It's a beautiful view, and great reading light, and people watching.

Whenever you're in town, and particularly not on a game day, I highly recommend a morning visit to Five Star Day Cafe to fill you up and get you going to a wonderful day ahead.

John Hughes...Why?

I was born in the Seventies, and was raised for the vast majority of my formative years in the 1980s...during the time of Hughes.

I grew up on those classics, sure; Pretty in Pink, Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller's Day Off. And I loved his 90s classics too, most notably Christmas Vacation which I can watch ad nauseau.

To be honest, I didn't really like Pretty in Pink, but I liked Steff's arrogance. I thought his character was actually fun to watch as opposed to the obnoxious Jon Cryer. I liked Blaine too. I couldn't stand Duckie; too loud and annoying.

Sixteen Candles though, the first time I saw it threw me off right from the beginning and it was because of a line that Hughes kept in the film. Now, he wrote this film, I checked. And I always wondered in my youth why this line was in the film. There's a sequence in the film where the protagonist, Samantha, played by Molly Ringwald, is talking to her friend about her ideal 16th birthday party:
"You know, a big party and a band, with tons of people.Tons of people. And a big Trans Am in the driveway with a ribbon around it. And some incredibly gorgeous guy that you meet in France. And you do it on a cloud without getting pregnant or herpes. I don't need the cloud. Just a pink Trans Am and the guy, right? A black one. A black guy? A black Trans Am. A pink guy.[Laughing]"

Sure, you saw it too. It was probably something small for no reason. Kind of like the Disney cartoon I watched once when my siblings were younger, and for no reason, absolutely no reason, Mickey was rolling along having a good time, then out of nowhere, two objects became a pickaninny and a sambo and were dancing around, then just left before the next scene. Why?

Well, the quote in Sixteen Candles about a 'black guy' may have been seen as a small laugh and not to be taken seriously, but I was ten years old at the time and I was instantly turned off. Why did she have to recoil when the thought of being with an African American male came to mind? And then, it was smoothed over when speaking of color as though it was so interchangeable, and not that it was about race and culture. Please. Hughes, you don't fool me. I've watched enough of your films to realize the world that they are in, and to know that you believe that those other colors which are so interchangeable are merely set dressing. But there are those of us who were that 'set dressing' in those environments, academic and social and even residential, and we don't take kindly to slights like this one or the others you perpetrated in this film and others.

The character Long Duk Dong...please. His stereotypically broken English, inability to hold his liquor, over-sexed and spastic behavior point to the all too hackneyed portrayal of Asians that Hollywood has been so found of since its inception. Hughes plays to the lowest common denominator with the addition of this character. Why couldn't the exchange student been European? Just as fun to poke fun of, no? But no, he's Asian. Who cares, right? Who cares if this is another in a series of ways to run down a proud people, because it doesn't affect you, right? Well, where Hughes made a mistake was that the film endures, and for years to come, it will become less and less funny and acceptable to look at the baseless stereotypical ways that he tried to get a laugh in this film and others.

Webster's defines racism as "the belief that race is the primary determinant of human traits and capacities and that racial differences produce an inherent superiority of a particular race."

His other characters don't act the way that Long Duk Dong does, so why does LDD?

Let's move on to 'The Breakfast Club'. Now, I love this movie. I love the dialogue (written again by Hughes). I love the banter and the simplicity of the film. I love the fact that it looked eerily like the same library that The Greenhill School had in my idyllic Addison, TX of my youth. In totality, this is a wonderful film. Why though does Hughes feel the need to once again poke fun at African Americans, none of which by the way, are in the cast.

In a scene between the great and recently departed Paul Gleason as Mr. Vernon and Judd Nelson's Bender, there's some dialogue between them, whose tone was pointless. Let me set it up; Bender is trying to create a diversion while the other Breakfast Clubbers are running around the empty and expansive halls of the high school. He finds an errant basketball in a small P.E. gym and starts dunking the ball and being loud, to get Vernon off of the trail of the other Clubbers. The following lines are performed:
VERNON: Bender! Bender! Bender! What is this? What are you doing here, what is this?
BENDER: Oh, hi!
VERNON: Out! That's it Bender! Out, it's over!
BENDER: Don't you wanna hear my excuse?
VERNON: Out!
BENDER: I'm thinking of trying out for a scholarship.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LZjK6dnZcFk

Now, words on paper are on thing, and even words on this screen are something different. But, the way that Judd Nelson delivers the line, and the way that he walks and talks is stereotypical of a Black man, especially the way he says 'schol-uh-ship'. Why Hughes? Did Mr. Nelson come up with this on his own? And even if he did, why did you, as the director, allow this to go on? What was the purpose of poking fun at African American stereotypes? What purpose did it serve? Couldn't he have simply read the line as is, and still gotten the laugh? Or, was there some need to continually denigrate those whom you never even see or discuss in your films? There must have been, because in 'The Breakfast Club' it didn't stop there.

Later in the movie, the students are all smoking weed, and for no reason, the previously Anthony Michael Hall who was brilliant in his performance as Brian, states, "Chicks, cannot hold der smoke! That's what it is!" He says this because Molly Ringwald's character Claire, coughs after taking her first pull. If you've seen the film, you know that he does it not in the same slightly lispy way that he's been running through his brilliant lines before, but in an affected, backwoods Southern African American stereotypical way. Why? Because he's high now, does he have to speak this way? Because he's high now, does he have to make fun of African Americans, Southerners, and women by stating that they can't hold their smoke? He sounded like Jim in Huckleberry Finn. And for what, another cheap laugh. Why Mr. Hughes, why?

You may read this and state that I'm looking at things far too critically, and you may be right, but that doesn't mean that these things didn't happen. It doesn't mean that for no apparent reason in films where African Americans were not characters at all, John Hughes chose to take shots at them. And instead of having a respectful portrayal of a young Asian man, Hughes chose to use every stereotype that Hollywood has used before with Long Duk Dong. There are politely racist scenes or instances in 'National Lampoon's Vacation' and 'Ferris Bueller's Day Off' as well. Classic films, yes, but why do it Mr. Hughes, why? For a man whose work is so respected and so lauded, to not make note of this tendency in his films would mean that one is not looking at his work objectively. And during all of the retrospectives this weekend and throughout the rest of the year, if no one else brings it up, I did. Why Mr. Hughes, why?

A Sunny Saturday in Athens

This will be a place where my thoughts on a variety of subjects and my feelings about life in Athens, GA and in Washington, DC intersect.