New Orleans has spectacular food. I’ve had some of the best meals of my life here. So much I’ve stopped dining out so I won’t turn into a round ball with glasses on.
Fortunately, my dear friend and One Of The Smartest People I Know Alice Randall, who wrote the New York Times best-seller THE WIND DONE GONE has a new book. It’s about weight loss and love. It’s getting great reviews everywhere and it’s both an entertaining and practical read.
This is the story: Ada Howard, the wife of the preacher at Nashville’s Full Love Baptist Tabernacle, has a whole lot of people to take care of. There’s her husband, of course, and the flock that comes with him, plus the kids at the day care where she works, two grown daughters, and two ailing parents. It’s no wonder she can’t find time to take care of herself. And her husband’s been so busy lately, she’s suspicious some other woman may be taking care of him . . .
Then it comes: the announcement of her twenty-five-year college reunion in twelve months’ time, signed with a wink by her old flame. Ada gets to thinking about the thrills of young love lost, and the hundred or so pounds gained since her college days, and she decides it’s high time for a health and beauty revival. So she starts laying down some rules. The first rule is: Don’t Keep Doing What You’ve Always Been Doing. And so begins a long journey toward a new look and a new perspective — on what Ada wants, and on what she’s always had.
Here’s the trailer:
And the critics say:
"For sweet, sexy, and strong moms…intoxicating…deliciously satisfying…"
— Essence
"It is impossible not to fall in love with the plucky plus-size heroine of bestselling author Randall’s fourth outing… A heartwarming and engaging read, Ada’s story is more than that—readers following Randall’s rules will drop the pounds along with Ada, and perhaps discover something about themselves."
— Publishers Weekly, starred review
"Ada’s Rules might be a diet book disguised as a novel, and it might be a novel disguised as a diet book, but I guarantee it will make you laugh and make you think, while it nudges you oh-so-gently in the direction of a brand new way to think about and celebrate your body."
— Pearl Cleage, author of What Looks Like Crazy on an Ordinary Day
My friend Laura Cayouette, one of the stars of DJANGO UNCHAINED, already blogged about this awesome day, so I’ll just use some of her words:
Then the moment we’d been waiting for arrived as Mardi Gras Indians from the tribes of Wild Magnolias, Fi Yi Yi and the Mohawk Hunters battled in the Square. At first it was hard to see anything more than brightly colored plumes rising up through the crowd. Then, they started winding their way through the people and passed right by me in all their beaded glory. Reggie had wanted to experience the Indians since seeing a documentary on them in the late 70′s. Now, he said, he could cross that off his bucket list.
Then, because it was a perfect day, we came across Big Chief Fi Yi Yi, Victor Harris, standing next to his suit surrounded by band members in matching turquoise and white outfits. Not only did I get to study his intricate beadwork up close and personal, he let me hold the suit to feel the weight. As readers of this blog know, I’ve always had the deepest respect for the detail-oriented craftsmanship of these suits, but holding that suit, it was clearly about half my body weight (without the beaded boots, cuffs and huge headdress). Beyond the tenacity and commitment it takes to craft one of these suits, I gained a whole new understanding of the physical stamina and commitment it takes to wear that hot, heavy suit while dancing and chanting for miles. Wow. As Reggie held the suit then put his arm around the Chief for a photo, I thought he could scratch “see the Mardi Gras Indians” off his bucket list with indelible marker.
I also got to see the ReBirth Brass Band, who combine cascading horn lines over a raw dog funky beat creating an experience that hits you in all your chakras.
This shot of me and Laura’s guy Andy was unusual in that I was making the stink face of funk enjoyment most of the set.
While shooting down in Louisiana, George Clinton came to visit the set and was treated like the visiting dignitary from another planet that he is. Cast, crew and background were all in awe of him.
Later that night, many of us when to HOUSE OF BLUES in New Orleans to get funked up. Here’s me, George and Quentin Tarantino backstage before the show.
Darryl Hannah, Samuel L Jackson and I hobnob with Sir Nose D’Voidoffunk, my man Carlos from East Boogie.
Later that night, Michael “Clip” Payne came up to the balcony with a live mike and started doing his vocals from there. So I had to grab the mike and start singing ONE NATION UNDER A GROOVE…because I could. Fortunately, there was so much other sanging and music going on you couldn’t hear my terrible voice.
Later that night, Samuel. L helped himself to the same mike and recited the Bible verse from PULP FICTION over the sonic wail. Most didn’t hear it, but it was dope nonetheless.
I also got to hang with the always brilliant FOLEY who was killing it on drums with George and delivering dope insights after the show.
He’s got a band that’s opening some shows…here’s a sample:
The night ended with a long talk after the show with Woody Harrelson, who was working in town. Too bad I hadn’t seen GAME CHANGE yet. He was incredible in the role.
It’s been a minute, so where should I start? Today was a day unlike any I have experienced. It starts with a class I’m teaching, social skills. This class is something I came up with. I teach self-contained special ed English. Kids with learning disabilities and behavior disorders who need a small class setting to be taught the general English curriculum. One semester to teach kids with learning disabilities Shakespeare, a novel, nonfiction, persuasive writing, grammar, all the while preparing them for a state standardized test; needless to say corners need to be cut and the time investment required to make these students successful is simplified to the extent very few remain functional and the majority do a little worse than fall through the cracks. They fall flat on their faces, give up, and in frustration wreak havoc and lash out at everything and everyone. Is this their fault? Yes, to an extent, but at the same time systemic dysfunction in public education is vastly responsible for their neglect, in their minds what other options do they have? This is where my social skills class comes in.
Social skills is a handpicked class of many of the students in my self-contained literature class and some other high needs students, some behavioral, some academic, who all needed an extra semester of one-on-one attention to help them become functional high school students. These are students who don’t bring pencils and paper to class, read at maybe a 1st or 2nd grade level (some better, some worse, and they are all in high school), and have an excessive amount of school absences or tardy to class marks (a few of them are on the verge of being kicked out). I’ve had most of them in class at one point or another, and some of them I have back to back in social skills and another lit class in the period before. It’s my job, a job I volunteered for, to get them back on track. To get them to focus on one thing, to read better, write better, function better as students and decrease their disciplinary referrals, to be that adult in life that believes in them and cares about them when everyone else has written them off and wants nothing to do with them. Most adults talk about them like they talk about a distasteful meal, being condescending and dismissive at the same time. I really dislike those people but that is another conversation.
So I’ve been plugging along with this, and I find myself constantly rewriting my playbook. If grammar and basic skills aren’t working, I try and figure out what works for them to make them more functional. Eric clearly needs a father figure; he gets fathered (many of them do, but whatever). Isabelle has Asperger’s syndrome (a type of autism) and has trouble spitting out sentences but her mind goes a million miles and hour and she has a ton to say. She needs patience and someone to listen to her. Finally there is Jimmy, no teacher in the school has any love for him. He is a known drug dealer and at one point last semester had skipped so much class he was going to be withdrawn. I had him as a freshman, we had our moments but at the end of the day we had an understanding. If he worked I would pass him, and no matter what he did the next day was always a new day. I’m better with him than most, and in a way this story is about him.
Today I discovered a graphic novel I brought for one of my students to read was stolen. It was from my own personal collection, a giant, encyclopedia sized hardcover of spider-man comics. It was for a student who has so much anxiety he can’t eat lunch in the cafeteria so he has to eat in the classroom, and for the life of him he hasn’t done one once of schoolwork in quite some time (I have documentation to prove this). He does like comic books though, and in an effort to get him to focus on one thing for more than 20 minutes I brought the giant spider man book for him to read. I told him we would start slow, sit and read for 20 minutes at a stretch and we will build from that. It wasn’t going as smoothly as planned but I think I was making headway. Then I discovered some kids who used my room in an afterschool program trashed my room and stole the book. I was pretty defeated after that happened. It wasn’t about the book, it was the fact I would have loaned the book to any kid who would have asked me. All my students know that. The young man who was reading the book? He was pretty upset. He literally turned the room upside down looking for the book before we decided it was stolen. Not knowing what to do I kinda shut down. I thought I was doing everything in my power to help, and this is what I get for my efforts. After school I was walking to my car and Jimmy, the known drug dealer, chased me down. He had my giant spider-man book in his hand and said, “hey, we found who took your book and got it back.” That’s all he said. I looked at him and hugged him. There was nothing else I could do. He went back to the afterschool program to do his thing and I went home.
What did I learn here? Selfishly, I’ve been struggling with who I am now. I used to be fat; that was my mantra for a minute. It always goes back to that but then it doesn’t. I don’t want to be that guy anymore. I actually hate that guy. He was mean and took his anger out on the world and made himself fat because he wasn’t sure why anyone would love him, so why not make that a reality and destroy myself and be mean. You all know the story, I got my act together, it all went away and I was left with the question, “who am I?” Still trying to figure out that answer, but today, at least for now, when Jimmy brought my book back, I know who I am and I’m not the guy who used to be fat. I’m the guy who cares about those whom no one else cares about because I know what it’s like to be them, and I’ll be dammed if I’m ever going to watch another kid suffer through that.
Here is the trailer for a documentary on the impact of Bruce Lee on the world. I did an interview for it, and based on the Wall Street Journal review (which is on the Hudlin Entertainment Forum) sounds like they used some good stuff from me. It opens in theatres for special screenings on February 9th and 11th.
We're tired of "entertainment" that ignores us, that talks down to us, that panders us, that trivializes us. We're White, Black, Asian, Latin, and some other categories besides those…and sometimes we're a mix of all the above. We're male, we're female, we're straight, we're gay. We are comfortable in our own skin.
We're on our laptops, we're on our phones, we're in theatres, we're at the concert, we're at the protest, we're one on one in person.
Some of us don't even have a TV. We want it smart, we want it funny, we want it deep, we want it hot, we want it sexy, we want it inspiring, we want it all.
We like funny sketches, we like outrageous reality shows, we like crazy animation. We like action, we like science fiction, we like horror. But we like it when it's good.
We're not scared to be stupider than stupid. We're not scared to express our opinion. We're not scared to change our mind. We're not scared…period.
Two super talented friends, writer Selwyn Hines and artist Denys Cowan, are collaborating on a new book from DC/Vertigo called VOODOO.
"It's kind of like 'The Fugitive' meets 'True Blood,'" writer Selwyn Seyfu Hinds said, describing his new creator-owned Vertigo series "Dominque Laveau, Voodoo Child." Explaining that the series takes place in New Orleans, Hinds continued, "'Voodoo Child' is about a young woman who is a student...who wakes up one day and discovers that there's an entire supernatural side to the city that she never suspected. On top of that, every being in that world seems to be out to kill her."
"Voodoo Child" is drawn by Milestone Comics co-founder Denys Cowan, whom Hinds knew from their previous television work together through BET as well as mutual friend and director, Reggie Hudlin.
"[Denys is] a living legend, so it's great to do my first creator owned series with that kind of firepower talent," said Hinds...."
Several months ago I was called by an old friend to participate in an auction for a charity supporting young black boys. I wanted to lend my support but thought auctioning dinner with me wasn’t enough of an item to make any real money. Since Earl (one of the organizers) is a long time P.Funk soldier, he called George Clinton, who agreed to go to dinner with me and whoever won the bid.
So a lovely black family who were both funk and film fans met George Clinton at a LA burger joint. George apologized for being slightly late, said he just left Sly Stone in the studio, and joined us for dinner.
His trademark multicolored braids were gone, which I heard he cut off after the death of Gary Shider, aka Star Child, one of the key members of the band.
George was rocking a straw hat and a sweater as a sort of scarf. Needless to say, he made it look fly.
I’ve known George for over 20 years now, and I still can’t believe I have a personal relationship with him. He even recognizes my mom by sight. I am not a Funkadelic (I think Overton Loyd may be one of the few non-musicians who can claim that title), but I am certainly “funk-affiliated”.
I can’t discuss this without a shout out to the late great David Mills, the only funk fan I will admit had a deeper mastery of the P than me.
So when my funk sister Vivian Scott-Chew reached out to me to help put together a charity event for Harlem Hospitals honoring George Clinton, I was all the way there.
Unfortunately, I won’t literally be there. I’m knee deep in two big projects right now, so I will be sending friends to funk in my stead. However, I am trying to cut together a cool video to show.
If you are in the New York area, please show up and support. You have nothing to lose but your draws.
We're starting a new feature here at Hudlin Entertainment. A select group will be blogging on the site. The topics will be very broad...like the forums are now.
The essays are on the main site but the comments are in the forum. To comment, join the forum and have your say.
I’ve known George for over 20 years now, and I still can’t believe I have a personal relationship with him. He even recognizes my mom by sight. I am not a Funkadelic (I think Overton Loyd may be one of the few non-musicians who can claim that title), but I am certainly “funk-affiliated”.
So when my funk sister Vivian Scott-Chew reached out to me to help put together a charity event for Harlem Hospitals honoring George Clinton, I was all the way there.
