Last night I watched “Sing Your Song,” the HBO documentary about the life of the great Harry Belafonte. I found myself unable to move and miss learning more about the work of this phenomenal actor, singer, & activist. Truly inspirational. “Sing Your Song” cosigned my passion for meshing art & politics. It confirmed my belief that if God has given you talent, a voice, a following, you are required to use that small amount of power to inform, motivate, and move the masses by any means necessary. I’m blessed to have been able to sit with Mr. Belafonte back in 2009. He complained about America’s policies, racism, homelessness, the government. During a commercial break I asked, “If you hate America so much, why don’t you just leave?” He sat silent, pondering the question. Staring at me in disbelief. We went back on air, finished the interview, and he turned to me and asked, “Why didn’t you ask me that question on air?” I shrugged my shoulders. Off mic, he didn’t seem to have an answer. I didn’t want to embarrass this great among a million listeners. But to have talked to him casually, interviewing this man with a fabulous feeling of comfort, like I’d met him before, like he was the cool grandfather I’d always wanted? Amazing. He kept asking, “Where are you from? What island? Are you sure you’re not from the Islands?” The honor of this great even caring about who I am was Awesome. The honor of being able to walk him around the office, after our interview, introducing him to anyone in the vicinity with, “This is Harry Belafonte,” was Unforgettable. Royalty requires an introduction. And I was more than happy and blessed to give it, to be in the presence of it, to be energized by it – then and now. Long live Harry Belafonte.

CLICK HERE TO READ:
http://www.thegrio.com/politics/occupy-la-demonstrates-why-obama-should-worry.php

Photo by: Omari K. Way

360 Magazine
&
Broadway Night Out

Present

The A Lounge (Afterhours)

1200 South Hope St
Downtown, LA
Saturday, October 1
12a-5a
Open Bar Sponsored by Arta Tequila
Massages Provided by Mi-T Massage
$10 Entry
More Info: Broadwaynightout@gmail.com

Be Sure to Log on To: The360mag.com

Chillin on the beach, next to the mountains...

Here’s the first installment of the column chronicling state-to-state stops and economic conversations made during my cross-country road trip to Los Angeles. Click the link to read.

http://www.thegrio.com/money/omaha-a-bright-spot-on-the-jobs-landscape.php?page=2

Spent the afternoon at the Indiana State Fair – the day after 40 were injured and 5 killed when a stage collapsed around countless people waiting for the band Sugarland to perform. The grounds were fairly empty, contemplative, crowd noise close to mute aside from laughter of excited kids and loud music of fair attractions. Underneath the sounds, people murmured randomly sharing stories with strangers of what they saw, who they helped, how they only had 5 seconds to think fast and move away from being crushed by a stage.

One woman had returned to the scene of the mayhem to attend an early morning memorial service. She looking loopy, dazed, lost as she aimlessly wavered around muddy parking lot puddles, before spontaneously stopping and blurting out, “I was at the concert yesterday.” She clenched a drink and surveyed the lot looking for her vehicle. “I wanna know why. Wanna blame someone. But I guess things just happen.”

Hours later, I listened as a teen girl spoke loudly from a bathroom stall, recounting her memories by cell phone. “I pulled some people out from under the stage,” she said flushing the toilet. “I had to come back today to show my respects.” Leaving the stall, she turned on the faucet to wash her hands and smiled at the ladies in the mirror. “Were y’all there yesterday? At the concert?” Everyone hesitantly shook their heads ‘no.’ She smiled again. Her lids heavy, pupils drained of shine. “I was there. It was crazy. It’s all over the news all over the nation.”

But no matter how many times the media replays footage of that stage collapsing in slow motion, nothing can illustrate or elicit the energy of the day after the Indiana State Fair tragedy: Slow. Quiet. Spontaneous moments of shock seen through forced, exhausted smiles made to deal with the craziness of it all.

Next Stop: Chicago

THE OFFICIAL
GUN HILL ROAD
OPENING WEEKEND AFTERPARTY

HOSTED BY:
GUN HILL ROAD WRITER/DIRECTOR
Rashaad Ernesto Green

Saturday, August 6
*10pm-4am
The Empire State Building’s Empire Room
29 E. 33rd St. (5th & 6th)
NYC

FREE Entry till Midnight on the Broadway Night Out Guestlist
RSVP: Broadwaynightout@gmail.com

FOR MORE INFO & PRESS INQUIRIES: http://broadwaynightout.wordpress.com/

*Party begins after the 740pm AMC Empire 25 Screening of GUN HILL ROAD
AMC EMPIRE 25 is located at (234 West 42nd Street @ 8th Avenue)

FOR MORE INFO ON OPENING WEEKEND SCREENINGS: http://www.gunhillroad.com/events

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THE FILMMAKER’S VIEW
An Evening of Tips From Those Who’ve Found Filmmaking Success

The Next Guest:

WRITER/DIRECTOR
RASHAAD ERNESTO GREEN

Due to popular demand, Broadway Night Out’s “The Filmmaker’s View” is proud to present Rashaad Ernesto Green. Arguably NYC’s most buzzed about independent filmmaker, his films “Premature” & ”Cuts” gained rare, back to back acceptance into the American Black Film Festival. A first for any director, both aired on HBO. But Green’s Indie buzz fully ignited after his newest film “Gun Hill Road,” starring Esai Morales and Judy Reyes, won overwhelming critical praise at this year’s Sundance Film Festival. The riveting story of an ex-con who comes home to find out his teen son wants to be a woman, lead to it being picked up by U.S. distributor Motion Film Group. Now, with “Gun Hill Road” set for release this summer, Rashaad Ernesto Green makes an appearance at “The Filmmaker’s View” to share his success on becoming an actor turned acclaimed writer/director making Filmmaker Magazine’s elite 25 New Faces of Independent Film list.

Rashaad Ernesto Green comes to The Filmmaker’s View to provide Indie tips on:

• How to Gain Film Festival Screenings Worldwide
• How to Assemble an All-star Cast
• Finding Financing
• Finding Distribution
• How to Market, Promote Yourself, & Attract Hollywood Attention

Tuesday June 14
The National Comedy Theater
347 W. 36th St (Btw 8th & 9th Ave)
Doors Open: 6:30pm / Showtime: 7:15pm

$20 Adv/$25 Door

FOR MORE INFO GO TO:
Broadwaynightout.wordpress.com

The Filmmaker’s View is a speaker series featuring successful filmmakers sharing the ups, down, ins & outs of making it in the film biz. Followed by a meet n’ greet, allowing attendees to mix & mingle, this series is for anyone who wants to write, make, or be in a movie that finds success.

For Info & Press Inquiries:
BroadwayNightOut@gmail.com

SPONSORED BY:
African American Women in Cinema
&
The NY Women’s Chamber of Commerce

I’ve had three memorable cheaters in life. In high school there was my thug lover *Taylor, who forgot my team was at the state track meet, before deciding to walked hand in hand with his in-school girlfriend. He tried to duck and ignore me. But I knew that forehead, and yelled it out the stadium.

After college, when I first moved to Brooklyn, there was the writer, *Rob. Super naïve and insecure, the smartest thing I did was suggest we go to the STD clinic when things started getting serious. All my tests came back clean. His? Not so negative. The nurse rolled her eyes, as she gave a prescription to clear up his full blown gonorrhea.

And then there was *James, the promoter and so-called booking agent who spent most of his nights in the club. At the time, he had a brace on his leg and couldn’t beat me to the front door after the second bell rang. I answered to see a tall, beautiful Latino girl, and introduced myself as his girlfriend. Her bottom lip fell apart. “I didn’t know,” she said, eyes filling with tears. Smiling, I answered, “I know. Let’s go upstairs and talk to him.” But I didn’t say much, instead choosing to quietly sit back in a leather chair, cross my legs, and calmly watch a confrontational intervention. She screamed in his face, “You don’t know me?!” James shook his head like she was a stranger. “I didn’t almost have your baby?!” He ignored her again, and she ran out the apartment bawling. He then faced me, limped down on bended knee, and became like Anthony Weiner: Deny, deny, deny, until finally admitting the truth, when he got all choked up, and tried not to cry.

I used to think snooping was crucial to any relationship. My mentality believed that when a bell went off inside the head, it was time to put the PI hat on and work like the Number 1 Ladies Detective Agency. But after three unforgettable strikes with cheaters, I took time out to be alone. To be with me in a very Iyanla Vanzant “In the Meantime” moment of life. And now, I laugh at how clear retrospect hindsight can be.

If you feel the need to snoop, it’s better to run, not pry. Because either you have issues, or he does, or both, and you’re better off alone – perhaps in therapy. Not all men – be it powerful or modest income – are cheaters. If you think they are, that’s what you’ll get. Besides, each of my three cheats was broke with bad credit. At the time, I didn’t care about their money. I thought love was all that’s needed. We skipped in fields, and birds sang at the sweetness of arrows melting in our hearts. But now I see that’s nothing but dookie brown bullshit through once rosy colored, bi-focal glasses.

Ladies, the signs are always there when your man is cheating. Whether it’s that intuitive, third eye dream you have and shrug off as insecurity. Or that call in the middle of the night that you ignore when he forgot to put his phone on silent. Sometimes it’s just a momentary, half a second, sorta queasy feeling, that comes after you ask a casual question about his whereabouts, and he answers in the strangest illogical way. Something’s not right. You always know. And you miss it, because you don’t trust, or would rather not hear, your God-given sixth sense. But as much you play deaf, blind, immune to emotional signals, all lies come to light in time. The longer you close your eyes, the brighter and more blatant those untruths will be.

The reality is that some of these dudes are not that smooth. Most guys aren’t good at juggling women . We’re emotional wildcards. There’s no way to keep us all in line, all at once, for long. Only the real men are great jugglers. These are the “players” who hate being associated with that term. This breed of guy has game so tight, that each of his women knows they’re not the only chick in his life. And they accept it. Why? Because he’s honest about it. Because he makes time to give each woman their due attention. Maybe these ladies settle. Perhaps. But they do it for this rare type of guy. I know and have worked with several of these men. They’re like Charlie Sheen with his two porn stars at home: They’re winning.

The rest? Losers. Bound to be caught, like slimy fish wiggling from the hook caught in their mouth of mixed up lies. Too bad they don’t have more female DNA. A woman rarely forgets her fibs. She’ll always have an alibi. And when switching to detective mode, she’ll remember the key question asked to find out if her man is stepping out. And then wait weeks to ask that same question again, praying he doesn’t give a different response. She’s like a cat with an agenda, licking its purr nonchalantly, acting as if all is good, until she manicures the claws and springs into action. Of course this is why ladies are better cheaters. We’re more skilled at organizing small, scandalous, calculated, details. If we get caught, it’s probably because we subconsciously want to. Attention seeking divas we can be. Have I ever cheated? Nope. Why? Deny, deny, deny.

Maybe I watch too much CNN – seeing stories about the Craig’s List serial killer. Maybe I’m too dramatic, making up horror scenes in my head about the guy who sends witty, romantic emails by day. And at night he’s a Hannibal Lecter groupie wanting to eat female skin with a side of Fava beans.

We know speeding through a meal is bad for your health. But speeding through dating is just plain careless. I mean, I can have a conversation with anyone – from the drunken crack head holding up the bus stop to the egotistical Wall Street broker. But a five minute quick convo doesn’t give me comfort in assuring a great date or potential partner.

Call me a romantic. I just believe that finding the one is about the vibe you put out and timing. You attract what you are and who you subconsciously expect. Everything happens for a reason. And if you have faith, get your life right, and patiently put the confident, positive energy out into the universe that says, “I’m ready to meet someone.” You will. It’s just a matter of time. No internet site or bar lounge speed dating gimmick can have power over that.