Quoth AKA Barbie, “Skee-wee… forevermore.”

It’s been a tough week for me. The demands of work, family, and home have made it impossible to post to this blog for a few days. I’ve been in blogging withdrawal.

The day, the week, made me weak and tired. And when I’m weak and tired, the call of rum and coke can be irresistible. Was it one sip? Two? Or three? I don’t know. Weariness and alcohol can rob men of their memory as well as their conscience.

For some reason, Edgar Allan Poe came to mind. I started reading from his poetic masterpiece:

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`’Tis some visitor,’ I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door –
Only this, and nothing more.’

I looked up. I thought I heard a tapping… a rhythmic burst like Jay-Z rapping.

But no! Now it was a high pitched sound, like a bird. What was that sound? “Skee-wee.” it said. “Skee-wee.”

WT…?

I ran to the window. And then I saw her!

AKA Barbie!

AKA Barbie

Her steady gaze, her well formed lips, her caramel colored skin, her lustrous extensions… she beguiled me.

Who are these people that say AKA Barbie isn’t “black” enough? She’s at least as dark as me. Am I not black enough?

If given a choice between a brown paper bag and AKA Barbie, AKA Barbie obviously wins.

I looked to the window again, but she was gone!

Was it the R&C? Was I dreaming? Hallucinating? Were the 60s and 70s finally catching up with me?

Then, a rustling wind blew through the window curtains that goose-bumped my skin as it went by. And I heard that sound again, at my front door. “Skee-wee! Skee-wee!” My heart raced, my blood rushed to my skin like a reddening tide. But was I feeling fear… or fire… or desire?

As I went to the door, the words of Poe once again came to mind

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me – filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door –
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; –
This it is, and nothing more,’

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,’ said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you’ – here I opened wide the door; –
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!’
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!’
Merely this and nothing more.

The words of Poe and the images of AKA Barbie, rapping, tapping on my head in alternating bursts of text and rhyme and pink and green, almost made me lose my footing. But my stumbling, bumbling, humbling would not stop me. As with Poe, I opened the door and stared into the dark… or was it the abyss… of my own mind?

But no! There it was… a brown bag-from Amazon.com! I grabbed it, and with a strength I didn’t know, I tore it apart to find the insides. And there she was, in her pink and green glory. AKA Barbie.

Her eyes glistened, with a majesty that almost made me bow. She did not move her lips, yet she told me stories of years of pain, and struggle, and triumph. My own importance was lost in hers.

“I am black enough, I am more than sister enough” she said. “The sisterhood is… forevermore!”

And then I was waked from my sleep… by an empty cup that fell from my hand to my feet.

I looked around. No rapping, tapping. No paper bag. No doll. No nothing.

Was it a dream? And was I actually dreaming about… AKA Barbie?!?!

Many times, we dream dreams, and forget them. They are like water through our hands. But this one, my mind couldn’t let go. I kept seeing those eyes, those lips, that skin, those extensions. They kept cycling through my mind, as did her voice.

“Skee-wee,” she said. “Forevermore.”

“Forevermore.”