Celebrity Performer Spotlight...."THE POCKETBOOK MONOLOGUES"

Now, I'm a HUGE fan of The "Vagina Monologues", soooo when I was contacted on 'Facebook' about drawing a caricature of author-creator & executive producer Sharon K. McGhee and some of the cast of from her hot-new play
"The Pocketbook Monologues"
...Of course, I HAD TO BE DOWN!!!
The really kick-@ss thing is
"The Pocketbook Monologues"
are debuting on the Oxygen Channel tonight( 9-24-09) in a segment of Oxygen's monster hit and my addiction "The Real Housewives Of Atlanta"( ATL Housewives Kandi Burruss and Lisa Wu-Hartwell are part of the cast) I CAN'T WAIT!!! I've seen footage of the show, and IT IS AWESOME!!! Here's a sample from the play, CHECK IT:
Black women in this country are facing an HIV/AIDS epidemic. The public service
announcements tell us there are ways to protect ourselves: abstain from sex or use a condom.
Having unprotected sex is like playing Russian roulette with your life, dissing yourself. Essence
magazine did the right thing when they published the new face of HIV/AIDS on the cover
featuring Ms. Rae Lewis, but that was a long time ago.
I remember having my first aids test, waiting near two weeks for the results, those were the
longest fourteen days of my life. I tried to remember every time I shared my body with someone
else unprotected.
On the fourteenth day, I saw my doctor and reading her body language, I knew I would be O.K.
Negative, Thank God! Remember my motto, “NO GLOVE NO LOVE!”
For the first time in my life, I didn’t dread my OB/GYN annual checkup. Before Dr. Gayle, I
hated the picking and probing, and the exam table that was always cold and those flimsy gowns
that leave your ass hanging out, and of course, the cold giddy-up stirrups. Dr. Gayle’s office
was different. Her office was filled with aromatherapy candles, soothing music, button up cloth
examination gowns and colorful footies for the cold stirrups. Dr. Gayle was the only doctor that
ever asked if I wanted to watch my examination.
Dr. Gayle was usually cheerful and upbeat, on this day, she was not herself. She was troubled
and I asked what was wrong.

“It was a year ago today that a young lady I was treating, walked out of my office went home
and took a bottle of pills and killed herself. On that day, I told her that her blood work had come
back positive for the HIV virus. I held her hand and told her that with the proper medicine,
proper diet and exercise she could live a long time, just like Magic Johnson. She was a beautiful
woman – only 37 years old.
She was a grade school teacher. I went over all the options with her and she seemed to take
the diagnosis well. Later that night while watching the news, I heard about her death. I got out
of bed and went to her apartment. Thanks to a good friend that works for the police department,
I gained entry to her place. Her home was beautiful and well-taken care of. The furniture and
hardwood floors were highly polished; there wasn’t a speck or dust anywhere.
I studied her home to try to capture who my patient really was. Her furniture was a mix of old
and new. She had some beautiful antique pieces mixed with some contemporary leather
arrangements. The bookshelves were filled to capacity with novels and non-fiction all in
alphabetical order. I continued to make my way through her home and I noticed everything was
perfect, everything in order and everything in its place.
The African artwork that adorned the cool gray and white walls reflected a woman that
understood her heritage. Her kitchen left me speechless. When I opened the cabinet doors,
the canned goods were lined up with perfect spacing between them; the canned goods were in
alphabetical order, too. Everything in her home was precise.
The clothes were color-coded. First there were blues, then greens, yellows, followed by blacks.
All her clothes were on wooden hangers facing the same directions.
Her extensive collection of shoes would make Imelda Marcos and Kimora Lee Simmons
envious – each pair in their own box with a color Polaroid photo taped on the outside. I never
recalled so much order in a home.
I wondered how a woman that was as meticulous with keeping her home in order, could be so
imprudent when it came to her sexual health and maybe, just maybe, if she had, she would be
alive today!”

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