Poor Justin. If it helps, I am NOT offended. I am actually honored. I want more white honkies to know what it is like to live through life with a brown face — especially a brown face like mine. Man, it is hard. A daily struggle.
OK. I admit it. I am not sensitive. Nah. That is not 100% true. There is still a bit of I that is way too sensitive even in my dotage.
I just felt that somebody needs to stand in solidarity with Justin.
The New Series ‘Jennie’, About Winston Churchill’s American Mother, On ‘Acorn’ TV, Is Quite The Story.
I saw it being advertised on the banner of ‘Acorn‘ for the last week or so — but, I think it only became available today. We watched Episode 1 and it was GOOD.
Alas, though new to Acorn, it is NOT new. Appears it was shown on Thames in 2009 — so, 10-years ago. So, the quality, alack, is not that of ‘Victoria‘ on PBS. But, it is not dreadful. It is better than what you will find of YouTube.
I knew a bit about her suitor and husband Lord Randolph Churchill given that he is my hero Winston’s father. So, I learnt a fair amount about both of them in this first episode — how they met, their whirlwind romance and ahead-of-schedule marriage. I am looking forward to watching the rest of the series.
Looks very promising and I know that Lord Randolph’s story gets more colorful, though sad.
So Good To See ‘Alzarri Joseph’ The 22-Year Old West Indian Doing Great Guns In The Vivo IPL — On Debut.
Click to ENLARGE.
It was beyond a dream start. A wicket with his 1st ball in IPL! Wow. Doesn’t get any better and it was David Warner’s wicket. Impressive.
Then break the record for the BEST BOWLING figures in the IPL — on debut.
And his mother died less than two months ago. Talk about the ups and downs.
Nice unassuming kid. Looks like a great prospect.
His bowling got some stick in the 2nd match and he didn’t take a wicket. But, then he shone with a bat, getting the winning runs in a mammoth runrace. His team seems to adore him. This is all good.
I am pleased. I like him. Something about him. Reminds me of the young, brooding Andy Roberts — who I knew from his days in Hampshire.
The huge 381-run victory, against England, in the 1st Test match, at Brisbane, was special. But, I have seen enough disappointments, of late, to have got to excited and get my hopes up.
And then this … even with the death of Alzarri Joesph’s Mother on the morning of the 3rd Day. They played just like they used to play. It was a pleasure and to see my ol’ buddy Viv, in the stands, standing and applauding, made my day.
Wow. Have we finally turned the page? About time, I may add. But, cricket is a funny ol’ game. We still have another match and I see that Captain Jason Holder will have to miss it because of poor over rate. Shame. Very frustrating.
So for the second Test in a row the players are wearing black armbands. This time for poor, 22-year old Alzarri Joesph’s mother who died ahead of the 3rd day of the 2nd Test between the West Indies and England. I do not know the details. I assume she must have been ill. But, Alzarri did not, from what I saw, show any signs of distress the day before. He bowled quite. I like him. He has potential. This will be a setback. It is a great testament to his character that he continued to play. Him dropping out would have been a bitter blow to the West Indies. I am very proud of him ad this will be remembered for years to come. I wish him well.
Yet Another Hospital Mix-Up At Birth (In Italy) — Same As What Happened To Me In Ceylon (Sri Lanka), 62 Years Ago.
by Anura Guruge
>> I Too Am “The Other Son”.
++++ Check Category ‘Sri Lanka’ or search ‘Ceylon’ for other posts >>>>
This what happened to Lorena Cobuzzi and Antonella Zenga, in Puglia, Italy, 26 years ago was also, exactly, what happened to me — 62 years ago, in Colombo, Ceylon, at the “Private General Hospital“. Except 62 years ago they, I am sure, didn’t use bracelets — and to exacerbate matters, 90% of the babies born at that hospital would have been uniformly brown, with black hair and black eyes.
I explained my story in June of this year in this post.
I was told of this, nearly daily, since I was around 5. I guess that is why I grew up used to the idea. I was a hospital mix-up and the folks I called my parents were NOT my real parents. We could NOT have been any different. It was like a black couple having a lily white son. Chalk and cheese. That is how my adoptive parents worked out, quite early on, that I was not their son. There was no way I was related to them. C’est la vie.
Yes, I would like to meet the ‘other’ me. My kids, who still can’t quite work out the implications, calls ‘him’ the real me!
I am trying to make some inquiries. The hospital is no longer in existence. There were NO computers in 1953. The births would have been entered into a ledger. So we are looking for another brown boy, born between September 2 to September 5, 1953 at the “Private General Hospital”, Colombo 7, Ceylon (now Sri Lanka).