The Rich Get Richer

Warren Buffet just gave Bill Gates $31 billion. Now, that's strange---the second richest man in the world giving the richest most of his fortune. Apparently, Buffet doesn't want to end up "disgraced" and is taking the advice of Andrew Carnegie. Carnegie, who made millions from the steel industry and left his name on a few places, suggests in The Gospel of Wealth that the rich must not only pass on their fortunes, but they must leave it to other wealthy people who are better equipped to make good of the money. "The man who dies thus rich," wrote Carnegie, "dies disgraced." So, Buffet is giving his money to the Bill Gates Foundation which leads the world in philantrophic and charitable causes. According to NPR, Buffet will also give $6 billion to several other charities started by his family.

It sounds like a good thing. Through the Gates Foundation, much good will come. But, what if Buffet saw a way to spread his wealth beyond that small, small circle? I applaud Gates for what he has done, but there are plenty of charities out there with visions for a better and more just society. But it is Buffet's money and he can do what he pleases. I'm just not sure that this philantrophic gesture alters the wealth picture. Then again, I think that's what Carnegie wanted.

Leaving Essence?

Twenty years ago I raced to the mailbox to read Essence, then an avantguard black women's magazine. It was bold, radical, and appealed to my sense of justice, community, and love of black women. Now it's strains me to thumb through the ad-filled pages. Seems that three quarters of the magazine is Mabeline, Lexus, Walmart, Aveeno, Kodak, Revlon, and Verizon---to name a few. Oh, the articles are still there but they're buried between pages and pages of ads. It was never such a chore, as it is now.

Let me not sound too idealistic though. Magazines are a practical enterprise and corporate ads are the backbone of any upscale and classy publication. On the Essence website, there are even links to demographic and marketing data (i.e., African Americans spend 29.1 billion dollars on new cars and trucks, 6.5 billion on hair and personal care products) that makes it clear why we must wade through tons of ads. One could easily say that the magazine has sold its' soul to the corporate devil. I'm not going that far. We live in a global and market-driven world. I would just like to see a return of those bold years. Some would say that Essence still does a good job of raising consciousness. That may be true, but for once I'd like to just read the articles.

On This Father's Day

I am 47--hardly a young kid anymore. My father was sixty-nine when he died of a heart attack. My brother was 47 when he died of cancer ten years ago. Two uncles---my mother's brothers---died fairly young too. Obviously, this makes me think about my own mortality. Looking at the men in my family has always made me consider what it means to be a man, how to walk through the days of time and leave something of value behind. My brother Jimmy worked two jobs for about twenty-five years; when he died he had few regrets--not being able to see his daughter marry weeks just weeks later was one of them. In his last dayd he fought valiantly against the disease partly, I think, because if he could have been there to marry off his daughter, it would have meant everything to him.

My two daughters have also helped me to grow into who I am--and my longing wish is that time will be good to me, that life is gentle with my body, mind, and heart. I'm no longer the youthful soldier I've often imagined myself to be. On this Father's Day, I'm thinking of my daughters and their mother.

Making My Way Back

I know--its been a long time before words graced this page. I can't even breathe a good, legitimate excuse. The prose appears in my head and I make a note. "I'll get bacl to that computer," I say. Days will pass and the prose might resurface, circling in my brain like butterflies. But my computers are still far away--on a cluttered desk in the reading room or in a leather laptop bag somewhere.