Me at the Millions More Movement

I really wish that I could put this experience into words.

I am still knee deep in emotion and have been assigned a newer sense of purpose.

I knew that the Creator blessed us that attended with the ability to fellowship, but at this level... Wow.

I am saddened that I went alone, but I am glad that I experienced so much in a small frame of time by myself. I had something to learn. Mission accomplished.

At the beginning of last week, I had plans to roll out to DC. I was renting a van or truck and had confirmation that at least 3-5 of the fam was rolling, complete with child. I was pumped up. I'm like ROAD TRIP!!!

Tuesday came and it looked like I was still rolling with 2 others. By the time Thursday night rolled around, I haven't heard from my last traveling buddy, so I booked a flight that Friday morning, dreading how much more I was gonna pay.

I hot one of those discount sites and booyah! I got a fare. I got to DC for less than $150 round trip, and had the hotel option that would put me right at $200. Sweet.

I lived in the area back in my Military days, and when I got off the plane, everything came back to me. I was home again, but something was wrong. I was alone and I felt it. I noticed that it wasn't as crowded as I remember or what I expected it to be. The airport bus let me off at 7th and D Street, and I couldn't even hear anything. I was pissed.

I whip out the camcorder and started talking to this sister who went to the University of Maryland but had a little trouble navigating. We had convo... It was cool. I gave her some directions after we broke ice about her father's art. Cute too... wait, not my mission, but all of a sudden I started to feel better about being alone.

I came with a backpack and one of those lawn chairs that folds and fits in a shoulder strap bag. I outfitted myself with 2 days of energy bars and ready to drink protein shakes. I had 2 changes of clothes and my gear for the club as well as all of my necessary supplies. All of this stuff fit in there with ease and wasn't heavy. I was ready to roll. I had my digital cam and a camcorder and I had damn near 300 exposures to use and 3 available hours of video. I was ready. Or was I?

So I get to the mall on 7th and it felt like getting out of a freezer into 100 degree heat.

People.

Were.

Everywhere.

And we just kept coming and coming. I was immersed in all this blackness and love. That's the first real thing I noticed was the love. Brothers and their tightly wound cornrows and flowing fros. Sisters and their locks, braids, beads and oils. Headwraps and bandanas, wristbands and sandals. All kinds of cloth, from silk, to chenille to mudcloth. Cowry shells to barrettes. All of these people had love in thier hearts and I was overwhelmed by it all.

Never in my life have I shook so many hands, gave that much dap, gave and received so many hugs to and from people that I did not know. Never have I engaged in conversation with children, peers and elders that went on and on about the struggle and triumphs of being brown. I held and played with babies that just came out of nowhere. I was struck by the love. I secretly wished that it would never end. Or at least happen every weekend.

The Black Panther Party for Self Defense represented. Hard. In large numbers. I was impressed with their discipline and focus, and to know that they congregated from all over the country and assembled in DC as a show of unity and force is dammed impressive. I was frozen in fear and awe just seeing that many of my Native brothers and sisters, and when their Chief Speaker laid the smackdown on the crowd promoting unity with the Blackman and telling us in the same breath that he respects our faith in Allah and God, but it was time to put all the praying in the background and put actions we pray to have the strength about into action, I knew we have the O Dog to out Caine. To see our Native cousins celebrate with us was amazing. I felt the spirit mend whatever differences we had and re-marry us in a ceremony that had a lot of cool ass guests.

I must have walked from the Capitol lawn to the Washington Monument at least 5 times in an effort to snap as many photos as possible. I was stopping people on their way and asking them their name and where they were from so I could get my own video roll call. I must've stopped at least 100 folks and asked them all kinds of questions, everyone was wide open for fellowship and convo, like trying to get to know cousins at the family reunion. You know what I noticed? Even the kids were cool. I didn't see one instance of a parent correcting his/her child. Must've been the vibe.

I was amazed on how the crowd latched onto Tavis, took in Cornel West's short verse. We cheered Marion Berry and his wife. Susan Taylor looked radiant and got an oooh from the guys when they put her on the jumbotrons. She was rocking that pink! Russell Simmons got a rousing ovation when he spoke of financial preparedness, but the party got started when Wyclef came out. Dude rocked the freestyle in French and En Espanola and hit us with a little carnival. I'm dancing with strangers.

Erykah came out and chastised us.

We needed that.

From her.

Minister Farrakhan's daughter intro'ed him with the same fire he has.

The crowds kept coming. The later it got, the more people came. Some of us seemed to have learned our lesson in past years. Everybody knew that the Minister would speak at a certain time, even though he was scheduled a little late. Guess what, they bumped India.Arie and his wife to get him onstage before sunset. I've been to many o sporting event in my day, but I never heard a crown roar when the jumbotrons showed Minister Farrakhan approaching the podium with his security detail.

I know that this is standard for the Minister, but the way his entrance happened was badass.

I got sooooo much more to let go...

Haven't even started on politics and bullshit...

VANGLORIOUS!!!

I felt like royalty at the Millions More Movement.

Check the pics over to your right

We'll talk all about it after I get some much needed rest.

I wish you could've come with me.

One Day At The Market

He's shopping, getting groceries and being consumed in himself at the same time. For some strange reason, this is the time to rearrange and purge files in his mental rolodex, unaware of the surroundings; the thought process goes from tuna to taxes in mere seconds. He is being watched.

The irony of him in the produce isle being viewed won't hit him until his drive home, as he measures fruits, melons and such he is also being measured. Eyes meticulously segmenting characteristics and visible flaws, putting them in their respective bins. It's determined that he not average, slicker than your average maybe. He seems comfortable in this environment and purposeful in gathering what he wants. He has no visible list, but is observed looking upward, eyes rolling up and to the right. His knows what he wants and is very direct in getting it. He goes right where he needs to go and move towards his next item without haste.

Is he being judged based on the selections in his cart? Maybe. She knows that he is oblivious to the external at this moment, and his method and meaning can be determined just by watching him shop. She watches him walk down lanes measuring his strength, observes his thought process as he sorts through various fruits and vegetables and critiques the manner of how he carries himself. She's measuring him for more than a conversation; she had already given thought to much more. Her though process lingers on what kind of morning vibe he'll give upon arising after a standard night of dinner, chores, pillow talk and spooning each other to fall asleep.

She knows that she cannot answer all of her questions without interaction. Her satisfaction of the unspoken need is being met through voyeurism. She needs to hear his voice so a plan must me made to make him speak. She needs to make eye contact in order to see how he addresses a woman. She needs to know how he would treat his mother from how she is to be addressed. At this point she knows that the method of his touch can either make her either physically ill or remarkably wet depending on his method, so her approach is calculated. Time is always a factor so she must act before he finishes gathering all of the items on his list.

He makes his way to the dairy freezer and grabs a half gallon of skim milk. "Good" she thinks. Small bags of veggies, lots of grains and skim milk as well as an empty left ring finger not only means he lives alone but that he's also conscious of his body. She notices that his shirt is tucked in and that his belt is carefully lined with the zipper of his jeans. Yes, she's peeping the bulge. His wears an openly unzipped windbreaker top matching both his jeans and shoes. "Neat" she's thinking. "An organized man. He is aware of how he's seen. Outgoing".

She walks up to the opposite freezer door looking to make eye contact through the glass, thus keeping distance and getting close enough to really experience his vibe. She was not prepared to take in his scent. It freezes her in a manner that one would enjoy, but would also be embarrassed because she was giving a blank stare into an open freezer, and she wasn't checking milk expiration dates.

It wasn’t because he made eye contact and spoke on the other side of the glass that she couldn’t hear him, she was too fixated on the thickness and moistness of his lips to make out any words coming out of them. He showed concern as he closed the door and made his way to her. She didn’t move. He came closer. She couldn’t breathe. His arm extended to her as he continued to speak valuable, but inaudible words…

Getting Grown... Continued

Click Me! Buy Me!



Wow, I'm Learning a lot about what brought some of us over the threshold into adulthood. Thank you for posting. There is such convo and infosharing as well as rants and raves so I'm going to let this marinate for another day. Feel free to continue to comment. Use these questions to really question yourself and motivations. I also threw a few new questions in the mix because of the responses I got so far. I'm glad we got this chance to open up and reveal whats inside of some of us...


When I was a child, I spoke as a child, because I understood as a child. But when I became a man, I put away childish things.

What do you know about being grown?

When did you make the decision to no longer deal with business or personal matters that did nothing but propagate childish behavior?

When did you decide to handle your business like a grown ass man or woman financially?

What did it take to help you realize that your surroundings had more to do with you living immature than hanging around those that constantly acted that way?

What and whom have you outgrown, and why does it hurt (a little) to not be able to say anything because you know they have to have their "A-HA!!!" moment?

When did your wardrobe and speech change?

Your eating habits?

Your choices of entertainment?

And... Why does it feel good to be grown right now?

*NEW QUESTIONS*

When did it become very serious to have a spiritual base in your newfound adulthood?

How did your views on sex and relationships change when you got grown?

You only get one real friend in life. How does that person play in your mental, physical and emotional state as it pertains to getting grown?

How broke and restricted are you right now in your growness? Or is that vice versa?

Are you anywhere NEAR the goals you set for yourself when you did childish things?

What will it take for you to truly be where you are in your life, and why haven't you acted sooner?

The Apostle Paul spoke those words, he was speaking of his growth both as a man and of his faith. When one makes the decision to be a grown ass man or woman, everything changes.

Everything, 'knowwhatimsaying?

Speak on it then.

cute, ain't it?

Have a good Monday, I'll blog later.

good to be back, thanks!

Edgewater - Redux



It's Thursday, and this is the first chance I had to actually sit, read my email and go thru my daily reads in the black blogosphere. I feel better now that I've had a chance to catch up.

I also ended the fast, well at least the food portion for now. I am as weak as I thought when it comes to abstaining from certain foods, and it was certain things that broke my will like:

cheese - What the hell is up with cheese and why did I have to actually go out and buy some damn cheese to put on sandwiches that I wasn't eating in the first place? Yes, I ate plain cheese singles for no apparent reason. I had to have them.

snickers bars- I just went to the machine in the lower bowels of my building and just bought one. And ate it. Damn, I am a chocolate ass punk.

cheese pizza - the grease, the crust, the... to hell with IT"S STILL PIZZA!!! Bad. Bad. Bad. Bad. Bad.

alcohol - I had a drink (beer) for the first time in damn near a month. It was like I didn't care.

As far as making time for prayer and meditation, that worked out amazingly well. I also make time in the morning to do my stretch thing and that makes some of the fake and repaired body parts feel good at 2 in the afternoon. I noticed that although I totally destroyed the food portion of my fast, I feel calm and relaxed and I feel some of my fears slowly slipping away.

I've been able to have conversations with those I haven't been able to speak with.

I've been financially blessed.

I feel like I’m coming out of certain fears to approach people/opportunities that will enhance my thang (I can hear that Heavy D song - diddly, diddly, diddly, diddly diddly dee!). I know that I'm talented; it's the end result of utilizing my talent that used to scare me. Knowing that I might have to move away/on/forward from people/places/things in order to get the exposure/contacts I need to further my thang makes me hesitant. I guess I've been afraid of change, but change is good, right?

I think other than me slipping on the food thing; my focus is right where it needs to be. I plan on mapping my food thing out IN WRITING and working towards both abstinence and elimination with steps. I'll get back on my horse in the next week or two, but right now, I'm prepping for DC.

I AM SO JACKED ABOUT BEING IN DC NEXT WEEKEND!!!

I wish we all could go. I also wish more of us knew about all of the functions and fellowshipping that will be going on in DC next week. A couple of people asked me what was doing next week, and I was like (blank stare) "The Millions More March. Wha... you didn't know? Damn homie, I wish we could travel out there together cause' I'm rolling by myself."

Yes, I'm going to DC alone. If it weren't for me chronicling everything and blogging it for those that can't attend, I'd cancel my trip. Yes, I want to be in that number, but I really didn't want to go alone. Oh well, enjoy the pictures...

I'm tired, and I wanna go home....

Enjoy the freaked version of "Edgewater". I like this better than the original photo. I'm using this method to do other joints too... Whatcha think?

I Can See The Pizza Spot From Here!!!

I have had the worst problems ever with my home computer. My monitor went out Saturday afternoon and I had some systems issues once I rigged up some stuff (and a borrowed monitor) Matrix style. My workspace looks like the hull of the Nebucanezzer. I really want to tell y'all about the first couple of days of my fast, but that will be another day. I'm currently blogging from work, and that is sooooooo frowned upon. So until tomorrow, enjoy this pic from the city set I took this past July. That is the northside of Chicago in a neighborhood called Edgewater. I use to live there. The shot is facing east towards Lake Michigan from the same train tracks I fired the last pic from. Felt like Ramo from Beat Street that day.

Leaving work early to visit my lawyer, gotta handle my business.

I hit y'all from the hull of my ship later.

Peace and Blessings in the name of the Most High.

Oh yeah, it's gonna be on in DC!!! (you know who you are!)

Don't Miss That Train

I shot this back in July when I was considering coming back to the city.

One of the things I miss about the concrete and steel is the sound of the train.

One day I might go back and sample that. Put it in one of my records or something.

Get on a train this weekend.

Go somewhere.

See something.

Be with people. Yeah... Fellowship

I plan to.

What are YOU doing this weekend?

This weekend I am planning to fast. I am not pleased that the beginning of the month falls on a weekend. My best friend is coming back to the area after spending a few weeks in Cali, his mother passed away and he had to handle his B.I. I'm sure there's a toast to two that's going to be thrown in Mother's honor. I have to find a way to abstain...

I think I wanna give that up altogether. It's not like I have an "adult beverage" all the time anyway. It's like every now and then I have a beer or something and when I do it seems to really knock my ass out (the hard stuff anyway, and plus, I got my fill back in my Army days).

I'm hanging out this weekend with the crew, and I plan on snapping up some pre-fall outdoor shots for the portfolio. Hanging out with these cats and kittens is gonna be rough, they like to eat. And drink. And be merry. I guess this will be a test for me. I'm not worried right now, but then again I'm not seated at the restaurant trying to find the vegan section of the menu...

About the fast. Basically, I'm passing on red meat and alcohol (that's easy). I also plan to stay away from foul and concentrate on fish and vegetables. No eating after 6pm and I plan on getting in at least 5 miles on the road (not the gym, I need to get out in it instead of simulating it) before work. Prayer and meditation twice daily at a minimum (I have sooo slipped in that category). I plan on reading one book a week that will help me improve self, and putting half my salary away to pay stagnant bills. That's right, no X-Box 360. That's okay, expensive time waster anyway.

I've been having the urge to contact an old friend, been that way for over a month. We were an item, and then we weren't. I think she's hurt. There is a soul tie from long ago. I'm not sure if I should contact her. I'm afraid. Fasting and prayer will probably enhance what I feel I need to do. She is a friend and I would want nothing more than to just hear her say "I'm okay".

Enough for now, I wanna enjoy my Friday.

Enjoy yours.

Exactly what is black entertainment?

So I'm watching the BET Comedy Awards last night (okay, I was actually flipping... Commander In Chief didn't hold me) and I came across one of my favorite funnymen Mr. Paul Mooney. Paul rehashed his "Nigga Wake Up Call" 2005 skit for 2005; you see it brought down the house as the "Coon Awards" at last year's show. Lil' Kim, Oprah, Michael Jackson all got it from his militant, but brutally funny ass. He basically hit all of the recent snafus and transgressions that the celebs went through and let them know that it was their "Crash" moment (like Michael Brown blaming everybody else for FEMA's failures isn't our current "Crash" moment).

I'm sure most of us in the black blogosphere have seen the movie, so I won't wax poetic on the message that the flick relays about race relations in America today. It seems recently there was no other nomenclature other than "Nigga Wake Up Call" for those precious moments that we're reminded that our status as far as civil and human rights are concerned is pretty low on the totem pole by somebody that has a little authority and feels the need to remind us that someone else is in charge.

I know that we all serve a different master and the matter of who's in charge can be debated. I'm sure there will be an email (as usual) as to who actually controls the human condition, but I digress... Paul Mooney save his best verbal lashing for Miss Diva herself (as he called her) Diana Ross. Mooney dug up the drunken driving incident from a couple of years ago where Ms Ross was pretty damn drunk and was stopped by a police officer that stated that "she was incoherent and could not complete a sentence". Mooney (and I quote) said:

"She was so drunk, when the officer opened the door, she just fell out. She said (slurred speech) Do you know who I am? Yeah, you're drunk bitch and you're going to jail"

I laughed. It was funny, somewhat.

Wait, there's more. I didn't know about the cut segment. Diana's ex-husband and Tracee Ellis Ross' father recently passed during a mountain climbing trip. Mooney used an additional 3 minutes to joke about his death as Tracee sat in horror in the front row. She didn't sit there long. Reports have it that Tracee burst into tears and made her way to the back/lobby area because Paul's diatribe was too much for her to bear. To joke about celebrity mishaps is a way of life for a comedian, but to trample the emotions of a guest and nominee of the show by mocking her father's death is totally tasteless.

Now BET did cut the segment and did not air the things Paul said about Tracee's dad, but chose to run the jokes about Diana. Tracee did make her way back to the front row to attend the rest of the taping, and Steve Harvey (host of the show) came out a segment or two later and apologized to her for "jokes done in bad taste". He also complimented her on her strength and her position in black America as far as dealing with her parents issues and still coming out and putting on a good face to represent her show (which was nominated for numerous award categories).

Luckily, there was press backstage chopping game with award winners, and Lee Bailey caught up with Mr. Mooney and got a couple of quotes from Mooney and others:

"How can somebody get arrested for (being under the influence) and go to jail and I be over the top? I think that's over the top, don't you? Agree or disagree, folks. No, comedy is not over the top," Mooney said. "When you are a celebrity and you do crazy stuff, that's the game."

At that point Bailey asked him if thought about the fact that Tracee Ellis Ross was in the room while he delivered his diatribe against her mother.

"I didn't know ... her mama could've been in there, that's not the point. I didn't drive drunk," Mooney shot back. "Now I'm responsible for Diana Ross? If you scrutinize Jay Leno and David Letterman the same way you scrutinize me, then I'll agree with you, but if you don't touch them white folks don't touch me. They say what ever they want to say every night."

Was Paul Mooney wrong?

Was Steve Harvey wrong for apologizing to Tracee? (Some say he was for taking sides)

Was Tracee wrong for bailing out - Coming back?

Why was "nigger" and "motherfucker" used so much by the presenters and performers?

Is BET really "black" entertainment television? I swear, that's the first thing I watched on BET in quite some time. I can't stomach anything else.

Not even 106th and Park.


Oh yeah... Laylah tagged me and now, I regift you with this

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A Reality Blog???

With so many of us in the black blogosphere complaining of blogger's block, boredom and just plain laziness, I decided that I would take a plan of action to rid myself of bloggersblockboredomlazyitis and give y'all a little insight on how I do...

I'm going to let you folks into my home.

Through the marvels of modern technology you'll be riding shotgun witnessing some of my newest exploits. I need a partner in crime to hang out with a brother as I try new things anyway, so who better than you can I trust to provide an additional set of eyes and ears? You'll witness a lot, and will probably learn a thing or two about me (and how I do) in the process.

And I am so very scared.

There are many processes I need to complete to improve myself, and I need a little motivation to make these things happen, so I plan on opening up to the world so I can get called to the carpet to make change happen. I think what I want is to archive my metamorphosis into refinement. I need change to grow, and I have accepted the fact that I must change everything, from the way I live, to what I think and do to what I put into my body in order for me to live better and I want to share that with the rest of y'all.

And I don't know why either.

Should be fun though.

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Who Links Here

Shit, Damn, Motherfucker

R&B Singer D'Angelo Critically Injured In SUV Crash
By Nolan StrongDate: 9/26/2005 11:10 am

Singer D’Angelo was critically injured in a recent Sept. 19 accident in Powhatan County, Virginia. Virginia State Police said D'Angelo, born Michael Eugene Archer, was driving on Route 711 when his 2003 hummer ran off the road, struck a fence and flipped over. D’Angelo was not wearing a seatbelt and was thrown from the vehicle. Police have yet-to-determine who was driving the vehicle when it crashed. A passenger in the SUV, Lynne Sellers, was also injured.
D’Angelo and Sellers were taken to VCU Medical center. As of press time, no further information was available about their medical conditions. Police are still investigating the crash. In April of 2005, D’Angelo pleaded guilty to marijuana possession and driving under the influence of alcohol, stemming from an earlier infraction in Richmond, Virginia. His driver’s license was suspended for a year for the DUI conviction and for an additional six months for the marijuana charge.



Put brother D'Angelo and Sister Lynne on your prayer list.


UPDATE

The singer's attorney and business adviser, L. Londell McMillan, Monday released a statement about D'Angelo.
"D'Angelo is home and doing well. ... His spirit is very positive and he is blessed that the accident was not fatal," said the statement.
Officials at Virginia Commonwealth University Medical Center, where the Grammy-winning artist was flown after the wreck, said the family had asked that his condition not be released.
Another person, Lynne Sellers, also was injured in the wreck. Police couldn't say which of the two had been driving.
The accident occurred in Powhatan County, a bedroom community west of the city. Archer lives in Midlothian, just outside Richmond.
The cause of the crash is under investigation, Barrick said.

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Seven Things

I seem to be lacking in my writing ^here^ these days. I am prepping a column for my blackisms site about Simon Wiesenthal and his affect on me as a kid, and I'm also preparing to fast for the month of October, something that Layla suggested, but I already made a decision on a few weeks ago. I am also prepping to take on a second job at night, forgoing the upcoming NBA primetime joints. That's why I just bought a TiVo thingee. I also plan to pick up an MP4 machine, so I added this to my wishlist.

I also noticed that my photography has crapped out to next to nothing, so this weekend I will snap some of the last remnants of summer, because out here, it's over. I hear the big city I'm from still has summer on lock... Whatever.

You noticed the incompetence once again from our government? This time, we supposedly are prepared for then impending hurricane and told everyone on the gulf coast to evacuate. How many of y'all remember the big-ass riverboat barge picked up by Katrina and deposited 1 mile inland in Mississippi? Well, there are over 200,000 folks trapped on highways exiting Houston and them folks are running out of gas and most will run out because of the logjam to get out. Think about this... a lot of those people stand a great chance to die. If the 145 (and this might become greater) mph winds can throw a riverboat barge 1 mile inward, think about what it will do to those lil' ass cars (PACKED WITH PEOPLE!!!) stranded on the highway. With the current evacuation plans, our State and Federal government may have put tens of thousands of folks in the path of a category 4 hurricane to die.

Some lesson learned from Katrina. First, don't get em', now, get em and leave em' stranded to die. Great. I pray they make it out of the path of the storm despite the "efforts" of government officials.

To take my mind away from this unnatural disaster, I copied and edited this from Layla's blog...
copy and edit amongst yourselves like she said.


Seven Things I...

Plan to Do Before I Die:

1. Have my works published and have best seller (or three, I have that much material) on my hands
2. Finish school the way I want (doctorate, baby!!!)
3. Get married and have kids (this is the hardest part, I'm not ready!)
4. Live in Africa (I visited back in the day, but not on my own terms)
5. Travel North America with my RV and trike
6. Be financially sound so my kids can have whatever
7. Get that much closer to God (might even get ordained)


Things I Can Do:

1. Write
2. Distance run/walk (it's the Army, can't rid myself of the training)
3. Shut people out (for good)
4. Make something out of nothing (food, money, blank canvas/sheet of paper/word processing page, etc)
5. Love hard (I still love you even if I hate you, even if YOU hate me)
6. Ignore pain (back, both knees, left foot, diabetes - that Army training again...)
7. Exist alone (thought I never could - never planned on it either)


Things I Can't Do:

1. Let someone else control my emotions
2. Stop being stubborn and brutally honest (it hurts people sometimes)
3. Tell people what I really want (mostly when I'm in a relationship)
4. Stick with a workout plan
5. Say no (I hate that!)
6. Lie to myself
7. Shut up (I talk too much like Data from Star Trek, so it's very analytical and from logic's standpoint... please stop me!!!)


Things I say most:

1. What?
2. allrighty then
3. mmmmmmkayyyy?
4. hee hee hee (when I laugh, which is everydamnday)
5. I have no clue (mostly at work)
6. You gotta be kidding me!
7. Umm....


Things that attract me to the opposite sex:

1. Honesty
2. Fear of the Creator
3. Hypnotictic eyes
4. Mature/sense of perspective
5. Ambition and drive and vision
6. Tall, with legs from hell (with a great set of... Never mind)
7. Grace


Celebrity crushes

1. Jill Scott (Lyzel is the man)
2. Kimberly Locke (Only one person knows why she's second on my list. Her twin)
3. Amel Larrieux (She is a gift, and yes I know. She's married)
4. Lisa Nicole Carson (Where'd she go?)
5. Tina Thompson (The lipstick thing during the games is a turn-on)
6. India.Arie (still mad that she shed her locs)
7. Margaretret Cho (That's right! Her current incarnation and the way she wears that leather has her on my list)
Notice a pattern about these ladies? Just wonderin' if you're paying attention


Have a drink or two over the weekend for me...

It's an Oso Krispie Wednesday

Yeah, Echo was right. The blogger's block disease has hit a lot of us. Maybe it's the change fo season or something...

Anyhoo, mad shouts out to my girl Oso Krispie for winning the competition and becoming "that girl" with TLC. I wish success and great things for her on this new journey. She'll mesh with T-Boz and Chilli well.

Oh yeah, back to blogging... just as Echo did offa Organized Noise 's post, I did the same. A little more about me... enjoy.

WHAT ARE YOUR FAVORITE ARTICLES OF CLOTHING?
A plain T-Shirt and a pair of athletic shorts at home and a fine, tailored jacket and slacks (in other words a good suit, and I'm a big guy as well) when working. Can't leave the house without a sportcoat...


THE LAST CD YOU BOUGHT?
Notorious B.I.G. Ready To Die (reissue)


WHAT TIME DO YOU WAKE UP IN THE MORNING?
4:4:45am (that's if I sleep)


WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE KITCHEN APPLIANCE?
Stove (it's where the magic happens)


IF YOU COULD PLAY AN INSTRUMENT, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
I play bass and drums, so maybe a brass instrument. The sax is a sexy thang


FAVORITE COLOR?
an earthtone beige/brownish/orange type of brownish beige?


FAVORITE CHILDREN'S BOOK?
The Little Train That Could


WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SEASON?
Fall


IF YOU HAVE (or wanted) A TATTOO, WHAT IS IT?
Flames on my forearms. Like this... want one (or two - both arms)

IF YOU COULD HAVE ONE SUPERPOWER, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
Invisibility


ONE PERSON/PEOPLE FROM YOUR PAST YOU WISH YOU COULD GO BACK AND TALK TO:
My Grandmother Willa Francis and my Aunt Desiree


WHAT IS UNDER YOUR BED?
Nothing, maybe the cat every now and then.


WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE DAY?
Saturday. Nothing happens there. And that's how I like it.


WHICH DO YOU PREFER, SUSHI OR HAMBURGER?
CHICKEN!!!


WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FLOWER?
Sunflower. Stands tall, looks good and above most gives nourishment. Just like I like my women.


DO YOU LIKE YOUR JOB?
It's OK..Pays the bill I guess


WHAT IS YOUR DREAM JOB?
Owning my own, being my own employee (writing, music)


THREE THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
My Focus, my faith and steadiness in times of trouble.


THREE THINGS YOU HATE/DISLIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
Keeping people at arms distance, my diabetes, mstubbornnessss


THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
Prayer, Spending time alone to think/plot/strategize, sleep.


THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:
Grey button down shirt, charcoal grey dress slacks, black leather 3/4 boots


THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE BANDS/ARTISTS (AT THE MOMENT):
Prince, The Roots, India.Arie


THREE NEW THINGS YOU WANT TO TRY IN THE NEXT 12 MONTHS:
A 30 day fast, cashing a big ass check, purchasing a home


THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP (LOVE IS A GIVEN):
Someone who want/lovess me for me, passion for the arts (and hip hop), the ability to be my equal spiritually/emotionally/mentally


THREE PHYSICAL THINGS ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX (OR SAME) THAT APPEAL TO YOU:
Eyes, hips, fingertips (ok, the whole hand, that just sounds good when I say it)


THREE THINGS YOU JUST CAN'T DO
Be still (at the same place) all damn day, shut up, not think about lost ones (so many have died..Damnmn, can't shake it)


THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE HOBBIES:
Writing, losing myself in other people's music, reading something

Dissecting My Life Part 2

So now the question remains, if my friends and close associates aren't the ones affecting me then it must be my living situation.

I am currently sitting in the waiting room at a medical center 2 small towns away from where I live. The doctor is Russian American; the staff is also from that region. There are older ladies and gentlemen that have appointments with the doc, I'm waiting in line to be seen and it won't be long. The suburbs is the shit when it comes to seeking medical attention. The only thing is... I'm the only brother in probably a 3 square mile radius, so everyone is looking at me funny. It dosen't help that I'm wearing a suit, but rocking my hair and accessories that keep me uniquely afro centric. Because I conduct business in a corporate environment, I am a suit. A lot of folk ain't used to seeing that, especially out here in these parts. I'm kind of getting used to the looks and stares, but seeing as I injured myself at work and I cut my day short to follow proper workers comp procedures, I was asked for insurance information 3 times. As if I'm up in here, not making any money sitting around a lot of uncomfortable folk for nothing. Trust is a big issue with me, and I don't know why I moved to an area where I am the least seen and most wondered about.

I moved from the city 2 years ago. I thought that I was doing the right thing by leaving all of the concrete and steel behind. Another thing. I needed quiet. Not the silence of the forest preserve, but the silence that the suburbs have to offer. No sirens, no loud car stereos, no niggas hanging on the street corner keeping up racket at all hours of the night. I love my people. I only speak for myself, but I write for the enjoyment of all of us. I felt that I needed a little solace to help my creative side grow. I knew that there would be risks in a black man living where few African Americans lived, but I did not know that it would be like this...

I live in some non-descript suburb now. Getting to and from populated hotspots is very easy, seeing that every road leads to and from you here. All of the roads in the opposite direction push you further into lavish properties, the finest schools and exclusive shopping. It was where well to do's first settled when the big city became overcrowded and industrious. The land out here is actually prairie, surrounded by lakes and streams. It was the perfect place to build a home back then, and its current carnation is still very beautiful and spacious. No tall buildings or overabundance of traffic and concrete. The suburbs is a perfect place to enjoy all the amenities of life and still have wildlife very close. The natural boundaries are respected, and the shopping and nightlife is damn good too. There are is a mix of Arab, Indian and Asian people (as well as a ton of white folk) that share this space. There are a few African Americans in these parts, I'd say about 15%. Segregation is a word not used out in these parts since the Freedom Marches. People are scattered everywhere. Homes, apartments and trailer parks (like you've never seen, spacious and accommodating) is the make up out here. People are friendly and crime is low. Nothing ever catches fire out here, unless someone overbuilt a campfire, so to hear a siren is unusual. There is one big problem out here. It is lonely and desolate for anyone that is not like "them" to exist out here. It's not that I'm black; it's because I'm different and I might cause change that people avoid me like SARS. I kid you not; I've experienced more ignorance and close mindedness than racism living in this particular suburb. The Hindu population sticks together and will help, but you have to extend a hand first. The Asian cats and their families are cool; a lot of younger cats hang with whomever they please. The Arab families are hard working, family oriented people that respect your space.

No one communicates with me. I find that to be suspect.

The cops are predominately young, white cats. Now from my experience, these cats have not been taught a damn thing about tolerance or differences and it shows in the way they speak to people, anyone for that matter. When I first moved out here, I got pulled over damn near every other day and had my motives and actions questioned. Of course in certain instances, I acted a damn fool and was let go. In other circumstances, I was taken to lockup and "held" until I got a clean background check. Since I retained the services of a lawyer, those stops come far and few now. They never scared me and I think they now know that. Some folk were intimidated back to whence they came, but not I.

Because my locks distinguish me from every other brother or sister out here, I think people now at least know that I exist. As much as I shop and consume like the next middle classer, a lot of the neighborhood brood know me when they see me. You can usually tell when a person is genuine and not out to slit your throat, and since I haven't robbed anyone or hijacked the local video store, the comfort level of my neighbors is at an all time high. The fact that most of the nosey neighbors see me as "the suit" commuting to work everyday, respect is given. I do have the occasional "can I touch your hair?" question while standing in the line at the grocery store, and I am afraid to be left alone in a room with a lot of the neighborhood housewives. I already know what they're thinking. I see the looks and hear some comments supposedly made under their breath. But it's 2005 and there is no shame. I have had proposals, and if I was dirty, the whole damn block would have little black ass babies running around. It's that bad. I just shake my head, not only do I not want another cat's woman, the last thing I need is to be indicted for rape or assault, or even worse, to have Maynard's whole bowling team dragging my ass from the back of a pickup...

I miss the city, but I do not want to go back. The cost of living is higher. Crime and accidents raise insurance premiums. Property cost is either too high in exclusive neighborhoods, or nil in bad ass ones. You either get one or another. Fuel costs are higher; there is an additional tax on soda, cigarettes and dining out. Parking is a nightmare, and traffic... No comment there. I do feel that where I live, kinda' like feng shui has everything to do with overall happiness and success. I know that I need to make some changes how I live and that means where, I just don't know what to do or where to go. I do not have a relationship with my family, and I do not want to take steps back, put my tail between my legs and go back there. I was raised in the hood, right down the street from the projects in the belly of the beast. When things get quiet, I reminisce about hanging out late and being part of the noisemaking crew. Sometimes I wish I could just roll out and hang. I also miss the 24 hour access of the city. Nowhere but in the belly of the beast can you eat, drink and hang out at bars, clubs and diners all night long. Something in the city is always open. Out here, things shut down at 9pm.

I also miss being in my element. I guess that's kind of a misstatement. I wish that there were more black-owned businesses and things catered to me out here. I have to travel very far to experience things like that these days, and that saddens me that I can't go to the barbershop and chop game with the homies. And every now and then, I would like a little soul food, or a gyros or something! A little penny candy won't hurt, and maybe I would like to pick up a 40 when I don't want a 6 or 12 pack. These are just little things I know, but there's nothing like getting schooled by some old school cat about our history and in chess at the same time. And even sadder, everybody out here has gas grills, so the summer smells are very different. I really miss the hood. I also miss the new anti-gentrification movement going on with my people as well. As I left the city, there were a lot of areas becoming more and more gentrified, that's when some of the brothers and sisters that could afford to came back to the hood from suburbia and opened shops, galleries and cafes as well as building and buying properties not meant for a lot of us to be able to afford, causing a renaissance of growth, revenue and jobs in the community. I want to be a part of that or at least support it in some manner. Out here, very hard to do. I work where I live and my weekends right now are dedicated to my projects. I feel like I'm stuck.

OK, I've gone on a little too much. I guess you get the picture, I looked at my friends and now I'm analyzing how and where I live. I don't know if I want too many things at once or if I should just stand pat living where I live. A little help please?

Dissecting My Life Part 1

I think I found the source of my funk... Compatibility. I placed myself in relationships, jobs, clothes for that matter that are a little irregular or the fit is a little oversized, you know not snug enough. I'm sure a lot of you ask yourselves why a whole hell of a lot. Why do I work here, why do I put up with him/her and what in the hell do I live in this neighborhood for? These are questions I seem to ask a lot these days. I've never gotten a clear answer.

Let's start with my friends. My best friend is supportive of me but has no interest in art or literature. He has no desire to immerse himself in the arts, so gallery showings, theater and "the history of" has no bearing on his here and now. I am usually shunned when I bring up those things to him. That's my guy, but I wish there was a Niles to my Frasier. And no, she can't be female. Now this nigga loves the stripclub, well one in particular. If there's air and opportunity, he's on it and I'm always invited to go. Well, let's get something clear, the club is out in bumfuck Egypt so if dude is traveling to trick off some paper, guess who's driving? For me, the stripclub does not hold a warm space in the cockles of my heart. I loves the nekkid ladies like the next cat, but something about spending money to get a lil attention from someone that doesn't give a flying fuck about you and just got off some other nigga, juices still flowing is not very appealing to me. Now don't get it twisted, going out with my dawgs shooting pool, throwing darts and having a few dranks mingling with the ladies is something that I do on a somewhat regular basis, but I do not like strippers. No matter how fat the ass or alluring the body is, I just can't trick off my paper. I respect anyone getting loot legally, but too much cootie swapping and rent thieving goes on up in there for me to wanna go on the regular.

If I don't wanna go to the scrippa club, I get all this heat from ol boy. Like I'm some punk or something because I don't wanna have to go and take a piss in that nasty ass hut of a bathroom where cats is jagging off all out in the open to prevent blueballitis cause ol girl worked their ass up in a lather... And baby just took dude in the back and gave that nigga brain and she's right back out there trying to sit in my lap. Not gonna do it. I gotta work up the ability not to gag when I go, the smell of stale jism and alcohol as well as the cigarette smoke and that nasty ass body wash all the scrippas wear is intoxicating. In the worst way. But I love my boy, we just don't see eye to eye on that club thing...

My closest female ally is in love with a cat that did her dirty... A few times. He has since got in school, redeemed himself in society's eye and is really a model citizen now. They got counseling and shit seems to be working out but she loves dude, got a straight job that she's really into, spends the weekend with him and I can't get no time to hang anymore. Hell I use to call her ass at 2 in the morning and we would go out and snatch a drink and then go have a smoke and a pancake. Literally, she would smoke while we ate pancakes and shit, 4am at somebody’s random all night diner waxing philosophical over everything from quantum physics to if O'so Krispy stands a chance to be that girl in TLC. Although dude is in school all week and she has the free time, there is no time for me anymore. Gotta sleep in so she can be at work in the morning. It's that important. Did I mention I got her that job? Somewhat. Well, I convinced her to quit her job and come and work with me so that pancake run wouldn't be so far. And then I quit... She got promoted and the rest as they say...

I got a flirting buddy. She's in that category because, you know... no nookie. There is trust, respect, conversation, beating around the sexual bush, the sharing of hopes and dreams, sporadic dating and late nights talking on the phone for hours on end. Oh, did I mention we IM the shit outta each other? She has a fear, me. I'm older than she is, been a few places and have done a thang or two in my day. She wants time to do her thug thizzle. She knows that she's the marrying kind, and she knows I'm not looking but if the right situation comes along... she wants time to explore, wouldn't you if you were a decade my junior? But I feel even though she creates distance to maintain her individuality and do her thang, I gotta keep her closer than most. Just gotta. She provides sanity to my "in" and is so much of a balanced woman. She also is an old soul. Like Bernie Mac said "that heifer done been here before." I know what I wanna do in some respects, but I also respect her thang. Sometimes it gets hard cause' I know what I want but I also know what can happen if we bring it together on a serious note. That's where her fears kick in and rightfully so. I had my chance to play and be played in my early 20's and I respect anyone her age that wants to do the same. But on the other hand, I'm not getting any older. To hell with it, I'll continue to be what she wants me to be and where as well. She's good people and I digs her vibe. I was asked if I could be happy even if she did not want exclusivity. I said yeah. If nothing long term comes of this, I am happy to have been a cast member in her life story. That's how much love I got for her. She'll read this, so I say "do you mama, I'm always here".

And then there's this one friend who is my closest confidant. She's my lieutenant and I'm like some secret sergeant providing her with strategies, ammo and secret military files. We think alike so we mentally stimulate each other. Maybe in another lifetime we were either soul mates or we were warrior spies in the same tribe taking out the competition and capturing females to impregnate to further enhance our own tribe's presence, making more warriors for our fight. She says she has a dick, and psychologically I believe that because her overstanding of shit on a man's level is too damn great. She done been here before too, but she was some sort of pimp or an early 1800's lawyer. Them new age cats in the 1800s invented new forms of debauchery. She hasn't found the key to unlock the time machine to speak with her inner pimp/lawyer, but when she does she'll be dangerous. She's a little lost right now or maybe I should say she wandered down the wrong path and knows it. So as she treks back to the fork in the road, she has to make that big decision on which new road to take. This choice will determine where she goes in life and who she does it with. I have been summoned as both guardian and advisor, so I balance both jobs with patience and introspect, laying previous life experiences on her when necessary so she can make informed decisions. This is the only friend where I have a defined role. With everyone else, I need signals, instruction and mood analysis to see where I fit on that particular day. I have exes, associates, co-workers and business associates that I keep contact with and I must say (including the ex's) I have great rapport with everyone. Not that I want to not burn bridges with the ex's, we just knew that our relationships were not working at those respective times and we ended things without incident. Every one. And that includes anyone I've ever done business with as well. Nope, no car damage, restraining orders or bad business rep. I am blessed and lucky.

I guess I am CSI New York to the other's respective locales. I got my own thing and so do all of my friends, we're like an interconnecting TV series where all the major characters have their own subplot and supporting cast just like me. Every now and then we come together like during sweeps week and have a miniseries, but these days, those moments are far and few. Life seems to be taking all of us in different directions and although we'll always fellowship, I see and feel great distance coming between us in the future. This only means that I won't have to purge my friend list. I don't think that any of these relationships are harmful, so everybody stays put. For now. As I write this, I see that I have enough folks that care for me that I don't have to ask why, but I haven't started to analyze my living quarters or job selection, that's another long ass post...

The funk.


It has the mitigated gall to follow me, showing up in places I would never expect. It haunts my thoughts and makes me feel less of a man. It has the damned nerve to be at my office, sitting in my chair, undoing everything I’ve set up to represent me professionally. All up in my conversations and shit. Causing me to make mistakes missteps. As much as I love Bootsy Collins and the JBs, I hate the funk. I have to find a way to make it stop.

I don't know how and when, but I’ve been infected by the funk. It has taken over all that I posses and all that I come in contact with. It depresses me, causing me to detach from work, family and friends. I cannot explain why I feel this way. I do not know how to reverse this feeling. Sometimes I have the notion to want to end my life, but I'm a coward. Thank God. For the past week, I haven't had the desire to eat. I haven't had the urge to drink anything either. I can't watch TV or listen to music. I cannot have conversations with co workers right now, my tolerance for bullshit and fronting is very, very low. I wake up, feed my cat, go to work and occasionally instant message a friend or two. I give the 'look off' to those that might want to say something to me as I commute to work. Sometimes I drive, other times I use the commuter train system. Out here in the suburbs, the train system is nice and quiet. I'm sure I ruined a few pleasant rides for a few due to the sour look on my face.


I don't know what’s wrong with me. I lash out at those that feel like they want to help. I am not bipolar, am not afflicted with anything mentally impairing. I have no food aversions, and of course I pray and meditate. Yes, God is top priority with me. I feel the need to damn near get an exorcism. I feel inhabited by another entity. One that pulls me down and steals my desires to do regular stuff. I call it 'the funk' and right now it has me. I really wish I didn't feel down like this, but a year ago today, my best friend and closest family member left this plane and things haven't been the same since. It was a blah day just like the others. I can't remember waking up or preparing for work. I was on automatic and I glided to work, oblivious of anything else. I was in the office and was very efficient that day. I took a break around 10:15 that morning and something urged me to check my personal voice mail. Damn... All I heard was an incoherent message from my sister. She was sobbing and yelling into the phone, but for some strange reason I understood every word. My aunt who was only months older than me, the same woman I shared damn near all of my childhood experiences with, the woman whom I shared an apartment with on two occasions, the lady who needed me to check a couple of unruly boyfriends and a momma's boy of a husband slipped away in her sleep in her new husband's arms. She was a sickly kid, hell she was a sickly adult and it was fitting that she would not have to suffer, but for me life hasn't been the same since...


The funk has had me since this day and death was the catalyst, but from my research there is/was a void there before this even happened.


So my best friend's death is not the void. Something else is missing and God is telling me this. I don't know if it’s a person or me being in a certain place. I'm not hanging out, so I have no influence by the company I keep. Maybe I need to get some friends and have them influence me. Maybe I need to eat. Maybe I need a drink. Maybe I need a grudge fuck and then call it a day. Maybe I need some professional help. Maybe.


Nah, fukdat! I'm gon' stay in prayer. I'm gon' keep getting up every morning and doing the damn thang, whatever that may be. I will not seek medication from a shrink to help me get over the hump. I'm going to fast and pray, go see my chiropractor, get a full body massage, have a drink, get my ass back into the gym more than twice a week and go hang out with my guys. I got people displaced from the hurricane living DOWN THE STREET!!! Just seeing them sacrifice to live normally in a foriegn land sort to speak humbles the shit out of me. I got good health, money in the bank and people that give a shit about my stank ass, and I need to hang out with their ass. Fuk the funk. I will not let it take me under.

So I had a conversation with one of the cats that
work for the disposal service maybe a couple of
months ago. It seems that he remembered our
conversation better than I did. He put the box of
writings I threw away by my patio door. I didn't
see them until late Saturday afternoon, but I did
run into dude that morning. He yelled at me from a
distance. Something about me being wrong.
Whatever. I didn't get it until later.


I no longer want to write. I do not have the
desire to create like I used to. I originally
thought that there was a missing element, some
ingredient needed for the mix not quite there.
There isn't. After thinking about what I need to
do to get ahead in life I realize that writing
isn't a priority for me right now. I can always
read other people's stuff, right?


I have a love/hate relationship with corporate
America. I do not like working in it. I am not
designed for it, but I am trained to do whatever
it takes for me to survive. Working in the
'matrix' pays well and allows me to have access to
communications that I probably would take for
granted if I wasn't working here. Other than that,
I don't want to be here.


I have come to the terms that I'll probably never
get married or have kids. Not that I was looking
to get married, quite the contrary. When you reach
your mid thirties like I have, everybody including
yourself starts to wonder if and when it'll
happen. I think I got here too late or something.


I am not motivated to go anywhere or do anything
right now. Hell, I'm not even watching TV. I
haven't listened to any music for just about a
week. I had a slice of pizza maybe three days ago.
I think since I haven't really eaten anything, I
probably continue this route as a fast. I'm
thinking about mixing Amino Vital with 3 servings
of MetRx and just doing that for a while. Maybe a
month or so. Time to purge the body for a seasonal
change anyway. For what, I don't know. I got
nothing planned.


I changed the requests of my living will. I do not
want to be kept alive on a machine in some sort of
vegetative state. I do not want a funeral. I do
not want anyone blood related to take possession of
my remains. I would like to be cremated and have
my ashes thrown away. I do not want any indicator
of my death to be published other than the morgue
roster and death cert that goes to whatever county
I die in. Under the radar. Just like life. I'd
just like my death to reflect that.


I wish I had something to actually blog about
other than this, but things are slow moving over
here in these here parts. I do pretty much nothing
at work, nothing is going on at home and I
currently have no extra curricular activities to
indulge myself. No plans for any future endeavors,
no hanging out and no flings of fancy to brag
about. I guess this is where I need to be seeing
as I've been here for a while. I kind of like the
quiet anyway. Helps me zone out and think about
nothing.

Happy in Hate

I guess since everybody's been on this random thought thing and I've been absent for a minute, It's my turn...

A portion of this tragedy down in the delta and the gulf is some of our kinfolk's fault. We did not prepare and did not take Katrina seriously before she hit. We paid for it, let's move on and rebuild.

A few people that I would like to see combust and burn to ash right now on the spot:

Kanye West (never have I wished death on a fellow rapper - oh, wait... He doesn't rap)
Barbara Bush (you hot now, mami!)
Michael Brown (I hear that shit burns slowly)
Did I mention Kanye? (to the remix of 50's "Disco Inferno")
the left side of my family (just like them vampires in the "Blade" series)
Urban radio program directors across the US and Canada (I used to love Mariah...)
The entire FOX News Channel (on the air - I like to watch!!!)

So I'm at home and have overnight packages to send because I'm working from home. I got a handful of prepaid DHL letter cartons that have to get out. So I call the carrier for a pickup...
Great, they'll be here between 2:30 and 4:30. I take a breather from the computer and step outside to find the DHL delivery truck creeping slowly down my block. I have the package in my hand... I step towards the street and approach the truck, waving the bright yellow and orange packages with the corporate logo at the driver. We make eye contact and then... HE SPEEDS OFF!!! I reach for my cellphone and call the carrier to complain. I did. Nothing they can do. Was given some excuse that maybe the driver had a specific delivery time to make, causing him to speed off and not return. I go back outside again, maybe an hour later and guess what? Truck is back... Creeping. This time I approach the driver's window. I speak to him. He's still creeping forward, looking for an address. He's ignoring me. I get in front of the truck. He slams on the breaks in surprise. Yadda, yadda, yadda.... Didn't see me the first time. Didn't see Me approaching the truck (I was at the driver's window, talking very loudly... Whatever.) Makes my next announcement apparently obvious:

I am moving out of the Midwest. Took time yesterday to also look for employers and find living quarters. There is absolutely nothing in the Midwest for me to invest my time into. Physically, spiritually, familywise, emotionally... I just hope that it won't take long for me to get the hell out of Chicago. Nice place to visit...

I threw away all of my writings yesterday. As of right now, I no longer write. Maybe some garbageman will find my shit and create the next great urban American novel...

I erased all of the music and recordings off of my hard drives. I no longer perform music and/or poetry. I am (again) pulling down the blackisms website and I am also no longer contributing to this blogspace.

I am tired.

I am bored.

I am disappointed with where I am in life right now. I'm secretly wishing a quiet death somewhere where no one can save my ass... I had my chances to do things, I blew them all.

Add my name to the combustible list.

Take Care... Of Us and Them

Aiight, let's stop the self love train for a minute and wax poetic on the real...

I know you've been watching the news feeds from down south. Watching our kinfolk and close associates struggle to make it to tomorrow. The media has named our family members refugees. A bunch of folk displaced by Hurricane Katrina are homeless, some being bussed to another state to sit and wait in an unused sports facility for what some say will be months.

There is no school this year for the kids.
There are no jobs for the parents.
Police that were assigned to rescue folks are now on loot patrol (they have been replaced with FEMA agents and military personnel).
The water has been standing for 3 days now and it is infested with waste and disease.
People have taken to the streets and have made their own laws.

It didn't have to come to this.

Most of our people did not have a plan. A lot of our kinfolk thought that the category 5 storm that hit the coast would temporarily hinder the daily grind, so no money was saved, no travel plans hatched and no emergency procedures were implemented. And now we must react. It is already costing us lives, and guess what happens to the living? We pay for the dead and sick.

Now, I am not complaining at all. I volunteered to go down to the Big Easy and help with relief efforts and I hope I'm chosen. I have already donated a portion on my current paycheck to the Red Cross (something I suggest we all do) and for me, that doesn't feel like enough. What I need to do is holla at y'all and hopefully we get some good feedback on how we can be proactive and protect ourselves and also how we can help the fam down there at the same time. After Oklahoma City, September 11 and now this, can we stand another catastrophe without being prepared?

As families, we need to create an emergency plan. Just like the good ol' fire drill, we need to sit down and plan escape routes, meeting places, have proper communication (that extra cell phone) designated CPR persons and also gather emergency rations and medical supplies (insulin, pain relief, stuff for motion sickness, feminine hygiene products, antibacterial stuff, and of course baby stuff) that we can grab on the fly and also put together a little cash and maybe a special little debit card if we have to travel on moments notice. Renting a car or truck or snatching up a plane ticket is not an easy thing if we are not prepared. We can no longer be left behind.

Now as far as helping the folks down south, there will be telethons, auctions and all types of drives and means to donate money, tangible items and time. I will do my best from this blogspot and my blackisms website to keep the streets and the nigganet informed on how and what we can do. Also, in the next couple of days, I will have my own fundraiser popping up (and yes, it will be a legal IRS 502c reportable charitable organization, so stop frontin!!!) and I will probably solicit YOU, so prep yourself for that. I will do my best not to let my people suffer. I hope you feel the same way.

See You At The Crossroads

Let's talk about my life.

I'm a young black man from the hood that made it out of the belly of the beast, went to college and the military and "made it" out. You know, out of the hood, out of my 20's (cause' we ain't supposed to make it, right?), made it to this point without scattering babies across the planet and got out of my momma's house. Right, I hear ya'... give that nigga a cookie!

Now that I made it past all of these so-called obstacles, I want to spend my time doing things worthwhile and satisfying. Here's where the problem begins... I don't know where to start.

Now if I wasn't a whore to corporate America, I would definitely be in Louisiana doing whatever I could to help them folks get back on their feet. If you haven't noticed from the hurricane news feeds most of the folks displaced by Katrina are brothers and sisters. Jobs lost, homes destroyed, schools gone. I wish I had the loot to set up shop for our people. It's gonna be a wild ass fall/winter season for our cousins down south. We cannot just sit here and watch this shit go gown negatively for cuzzo and em' without doing something...

I am currently writing and composing for future projects. That ish is easy. For the first time in my life I'm working with a part time muse (never had a part time muse). I have strong interest in this sista, but there is a little apprehension and fear to dive in right now so I respect that and continue to try to move forward the best I can. But that's where it starts...

My current wish list has "Wanted: Full-time muse with no hang ups wishing to spend time doing whatever, possibly leading to some long term ish" in its number one spot. It is very hard for a single brother that has never been married and has no kids at my age to land that particular wish. Either a sister thinks that something is broken, I was a part of some religious sect that forbade contact with women or I am some crazy-ass abusive cat that swung myself single in some way shape form or fashion. This is so far from the truth. But when a sister asks and she hears that I have no shorties, no jail record or previous marriages I get this twisted face thingee and a long ass stare...

I am currently planning to leave the corporate world for something more like what I want to do. For a cat my age to want to do that without a ton of cash saved up (and be black) is damn near impossible. And just like Skinny Black said, "everybody has to have a dream". I dream of running my own business in my own quirky ass way of doing shit. Doing this is not as impossible as one thinks, but once again, my skin color, belief system, hairstyle and age comes into question when I lay some (not all) of my plans to some of my people. And once again, some sistas give me the gas face and the blank stare...

I'm bored with my life right now. Work is damn near on automatic; the (vital) bills get paid. I travel sometimes and I do get out and about. My attempts to shake things up have a lot to do with my music and writing ventures, but I feel that I need more. Right now, I am yearning for some kind of adventure to just drop in my lap. But it'll mean nothing if I can't share...

I am at a crossroads right now in life and I'm wondering if I should just start the trip alone or if I should at least screen some companion candidates for the trip. I got a strange feeling once I get things going with my business ventures and art that I won't have time to really put into a relationship. For the past couple of years I've been moving to this point alone and I would really like to share what I already have with someone, but I do have the option to shut that love thing down and put all of my focus into the new definition of me.

I've always moved with someone there. It's felt a little strange moving alone for the time I have been.

I've always been in a corporate setting. Moving away from it in the prime of my performance level is a little scary, but I need the stimuli to want to move ahead.

I need to step out on faith, but I realize that as I change things in my life, the way I experience the same ole same is also changing. I just never thought that I would get a ton of resistance from family, friends and the opposite sex.

Why is it so hard to just do and have what you want?

I don't wanna follow the formula anymore.

Is It Friday Yet?

I guess everything old is new again... For those that remember, the Fresh Fest is back on the road featuring most of the old skool cats that used to rock audiences with multiple talents and some new cats such as Chubb Rock and Guru from Gangstarr. There was even Dana Dane and Joeski Love sightings on stages across the States. Wow. I still mark out to the Pee Wee Dance whenever I hear it, which is not that often. Thank God for peer 2 peer...


I've been working with my original producer and business partner DJ MorningMan on those pieces I mentioned a few days ago right here. It feels good to be sent tracks and to brainstorm over how to freak the funk over dope ass beats again. I forgot what it felt like to be an emcee. The power of the spoken word definitely elevates a brother these days, can't wait to share. Looks like we got an album project on our hands. We were supposed to be just throwing together a lil sumthin' sumthin' for our enjoyment, looks like we'll be shopping some of the stuff, the rest will be put into mixtape rotation...


I've been working on relaunching my personal website. I want to share some of the artwork I've been working on and then I had a conversation with someone I feel is very special. This person is a consummate artist and I have an idea on how to get that work out. For those in the general Chicagoland area, look out, there will be a mixer/auction going on very soon. Location and dates to come soon.


I will be free of my constrictions after Labor Day weekend.


We'll talk about THAT soon...


Other than that, I still got the flu.

Hump Day

So I decided to get back into recording music.

I used to be a studiohead back in the day, and I kind of retired in 99 due to Hip Hop burnout. I just felt like I couldn't contribute to the culture anymore without embarrassing myself. I felt too old. I felt like because of my age I would not be given a shot to be heard.

Time passed.

To hell with all of that noise in 2005, I'm just doing the damn thing and I hope what I got reaches someone. And touches them.

So I wrote some joints that I plan on recording in the very near future.
I'll post them when I'm done.
And I'll bring back my website and post all of the photos and videos that amassed my hard drive after I pulled the site down.
And I actually scheduled time to get my podcast show back on the air.

And I get to hang out with Ali Shaheed Muhammed this evening.

Inspiration comes from wired ass places...

liberation
divorce
sick people
getting old
niggas on the down low

Right now, I'm writing a joint inspired by all of these "down low" cats. Sisters keep asking and so have I. I actually had conversations with a brother I work with that feels that he cannot tell his wife that he's out there bumping uglies with other men. I asked if I can take those conversations and put some lyrics together and the ish snowballed from there. The outcome so far is something I can't wait to unleash on those that want to hear it. I was embarrassed at first to even go there and put my name and voice to something that would link me to the "down low movement", but if brothers in that lifestyle ain't talking, then I will be the catalyst. All this cat asked is that I don't link thangs to him and don't use his words to ridicule his actions or to make a song that can be used as a hate anthem. I agreed, so I'm trying to put together a serious piece, and it's taking shape very nicely. I just hope it's taken for what its worth and not trivialized.

We'll see.

They might honor my request... At least I hope so

I did a horrible thing yesterday...

I haven't heard from my family in quite some time. No one ever calls, writes, etc. My little brother is the only family member that visited me... That was pretty recent, and we were going to a strip club. Other than that, I'm usually ignored, not respected and I have never been taken seriously - this is not unusual, but anyhoo...

I log into MSN at my desk at work and I have a new messaging buddy. I don't know who it is, so I allow them to see me so I can get at least one IM so I can identify...

It's my sister... Wondering where I am and what I'm doing. Now of course this is not unusual, but the way it was posed to me is that I should have "reported in" so my family can continue to criticize my movements, opinions and general life decisions.

Ever since I got back from the military in 92', my family has been trying to push me in whatever direction they want (need) me to go. Of course I got my own rhythm to dance to and every time I do my own thang I am questioned and ridiculed about going against the grain. According to everyone from Moms on down, I do not know how to live my life. So I keep them at a distance.

I changed my name a few years ago. All I got since then is jokes and non compliance. To this day, no one from my family has ever addressed me by my chosen name even though I raised a big shit about it and even gave them lessons and info on its meaning and proper pronunciation. I do not believe in what they believe, I think that is from my living and traveling abroad.

I have never felt like a member of the family so it was time for me to divest... I had to perform a horrible act.

The horrible thing I did was ask my sister to relay a message to the rest of them:

I no longer want to be a part of your family.
I was made to feel like the outcast, so why should I continue to reach out.
Please do not call, email or message me again.
Please erase me from your memory.


I feel I did the right thing...
I hope I did...
I feel better, and to some that's a horrible act.

Boredom

I am currently bored with life...

Sort of.

I have my health, am in the process of redecorating my apartment, have a good paying job. My friends respect me and treat me well. I am kinda-sorta seeing someone special. I wake up, go to work, have lunch when it's time, come home and do it all again if the next day calls for it.

I pick up my clothes from the cleaners Saturday morning. I take out my trash on the regular. My laundry days are Tuesdays and Thursdays. I rotate the sheets and bedspreads every other day. My phone bill gets paid on the 17th, My rent, promptly on the first day of the month. I refuel my ride on Sundays and Wednesdays like clockwork (the cost is killing me, but, whatever).

I wake up at 4am, get to the gym by 5 and I get to work at 7:40 every weekday. Like clockwork. I listen to a De La cut every morning before I leave the house. I have 2 prefabbed hash browns for breakfast, a bowl of oatmeal and 2 bananas for a morning snack, 2 veggie burritos and a protein shake for lunch and another protein shake with either tuna or chicken for dinner. I make sure I see "Girlfriends" every night at 10:30, and then to bed.

I am starting to hate my life.

It is boring.

I am grateful because I am all put together (2 hernia surgeries - nerve damage in the left ankle, arch pain in the right - never repaired a broken left thumb and it lets me know sometimes - reconstructive knee surgery on the right knee - lymph node removal from a cancer scare back in the day - diabetic - food aversions to dairy - a minor back procedure) and I have not had a problem that required a hospital stay or medication in quite some time. That scares me. I'm afraid that it will all hit me at the same time, leaving me in a vegetative state... OK, it doesn't really scare me. What does is the fact that my life is so predictable and boring and I feel that I will never get to do all of the "fun things" I set out to accomplish when I was younger.

I never married, have no kids and just reacquired an old pet, and now that we have gotten used to each other (again), that process is also routine. I tried quitting my job some time ago, and I ended up working for a new firm doing the same thing I did for the old one, but with better money... And an office. And more responsibility. Wow.

I used to skydive, so the adrenaline rush thingee has been done before.
I thought about going peace corps, but I'll miss the internet.
I'm almost too old to rejoin the Army (been there, done that anyway).
I can't become a spy (CIA and FBI says the body is too broken down).
Already did a quarter and a half-marathon.
Sold real estate.
Sold Amway.
Sold Education (was an University Admissions Advisor AND an Executive Search recruiter).
I tried my hand as a recording artist.
And did the music production thing too (when the rap thing failed and I was one of the few that knew how to twist knobs in that environment).
I write, but I hate everything I put to paper.
My photos suck.
I can only sketch and paint myself.
Lived overseas and traveled abroad... Didn't go everywhere, but now I fear US backlash.

I feel like I'm running outta things to do.
It depresses me.
And spell check doesn't want to work... So fuck it, there will be typos

Hep... Hep mee peeze!!!

I'm tired.

I need suggestions to rejuvinate.

Got any?

Wow, a new post!!!

Peace and Blessings in the name of the Most High,

It's been 2 weeks or so since my last post, I am glad to be here, right now laying down new verbage.

During my lil' absence, I decided to cut my locks and take up employment someplace other than Chicago, ran into an old girlfriend and argued about completely nothing and finally got a chance to hang out with a new "friend"... sort of.

Well, I decided not to take the new job, I did trim about 6 inches off of my locks (I gots to maintiain, it was long past due, and plus I got 3 inches of new growth already...) and put to bed any ideas of rekindling flames from the past. I also took on a new job (back in corporate Amerikkka, I guess I need them right now), and took on roomates (yes, that's plural) for the temporary until they close the deal on a very sweet new home. And as far as my new friend, I plan to hang. More. Soon.

Right now I am tired, driving waaaaay to many miles back and forth to Chicago from the nether regions and need to go shopping to replace most of my business casual collection. From the stresses and situations brought on from me attempting to unjack from cubicleland, I lost a significant amount of hair and weight. And to top things off, one of my closest dawgs is getting divorced. But other than that, I seem to be happy right now in this place.

We'll see how long this will last.

I'm alive... Damn, I been waiting to holla at Tupac

I'm still here y'all...

Thanks for email and voicemail... and stop using all those damn cusswords!

You should be hollering at Tamenika and Nate for procrastinating on doing the podcast show...



They should have never gave you niggas' money!!!



Until next time,

it's pronounced Hassan, bitches.

The Love I Lost...

I love Hip Hop.
We shared a lot.
We grew together.

I knew when I was a kid that I'd never outgrow Hip Hop. There were so many subcultures that either I could not or wasn't ready to get at, so I was patient. I hung with my older brother when Hip Hop made it's impact and we were determined (along with some other kids from my block) that we would be a part of that impact. We were so raw and unrefined, the same way Hip Hop was in the early eighties. As my childhood best friend Elton would say, it was love.

I joined the Army under the delayed entry program in 1988. I was still a kid and Hip Hop had grown into this awkward kid that was fresh to def. Everybody loved the vibe given off, there were vulgarities, but at that time there was balance. Everything in Hip Hop had its place. We were happy to see the sub cultures that made up Hip Hop all get their due. Then something happened.

Nah, not the raping of our culture by corporate America. Not that. It was the way we just gave up on taking something we created to the next level. We let Hip Hop leave and we never really got it back, but we waited. While we waited, all of that hope created by Ministers Malcolm and Martin got lost. Marcus' idea to go back to Africa with the Black Star Line faded in history. When I graduated high school and entered the Army, Nelson Mandela was not yet free. A lot of energy was put into getting him released and eliminating Aparthied from control of South Africa. Boy, that Black Star Line would have done wonders if it would have gotten revamped and used for purposes of helping our distant cousins. But our focus was not there. Hip Hop had us, and over the years we became desensitized by the bullshit that was funded by big music. We lost ourselves trying to keep up when we should have taken Hip Hop back and kept it real. The day Hip Hop and its byproducts started making billions for those that had no clue what is was before their investment was the day it lost most of its realness. Now of course there is an underground...

Which leads me to today. Fake ass rappers. Fake ass role models (not for the kids either). Impossible situations placed in the laps of the impressionable. Now control has been conveyed to those that do not have our best interests in mind. I can no longer listen to the music. I do not see the graffiti. The DJs are wack. Breaking is an exhibition that travels with the UniverSoul Circus. Nothing about Hip Hop is real anymore, and I have been made sick of it. Just as refine sugars, high fructose corn syrup and dairy have destroyed the African man and woman's internal systems making obesity, diabetes, heart disease and cancers commonplace in our community due to overconsumption of it, Hip Hop in its mainstream state has caused a mutation of sorts, turning out an evil hybrid of B-Boy, unaware of his history and unashamed of his actions against those that embrace him. He is vulgar and disrespectful, greedy and hoarding all that he should share. He has not given back. Has not shared and will not anytime soon. He has no good news, always depressed and spreading death and disease to those that consume him, and he must be destroyed. Even the machines that created the Matrix destroyed it 6 times before getting it right.


I need Hip Hop back. In its original glory. The current incarnation is killing us.
I cannot support mainstream Hip Hop anymore.
I need to grow with the real again.

Get Free

Everything inside of you should want to get free.
Even the oxygen you inhale has the inclination to get out.
You release it. It regenerates and provides for someone else.
That person is also free. And everything inside of them wants to get free as well.

This is how God works.

You are given the ability to be free.
It is your choice to either take it or be confined to whatever vices hold you.

What holds you?
Have you tried to let it go?

I had a long look at the things that held me. They were simple things, man-made things, addictive things. People, places and things that have no rhyme or reason to hold onto you... Wait, that's it!!!
I let these things, objects and people that do not matter to me hold onto me.

But everything inside of me wants to be free.
All I have to do is let go. Okay, no more high carb, time wasting, damn near heart stopping, money guzzling, can't wait til I can get outta' thier presence, boring ass, mentally draining, non fuel efficient, why did I come here, writer's block giving, no spirit having ass people, places and things.

Damn, no more cigar collecting.
Or soul food restaurant binges.
Or wishy washy ass family members.
Boring ass TV too.
Or carbonated beverages.
Furl injected cars from the 80's.
Or folks who haven't mentioned "Jesus, Mohammed or even L. Ron Hubbard" for that matter.
The bank (sorry, the credit union actually helped me).
Corporate America (you know why).
Radio (fuck you and your wack ass playlist... and your commercials).
Both the Democrat and Republican Party (Barak and Jesse Jr are cool, but c'mon...).
Chemically manufactured haircare products.
High Fructose Corn Syrup
And the rest of y'all...

You are free to overwhelm someone else.


That means that God is working.

Freedom Is A Road Seldom Travelled By The Multitude

Y'all knew by hook or crook I was going to, right?

Wow, That Was Fast...

Dammit, I gotta' find a 2X...
I don't think I can fit this one anymore.

Whatever...

blah, blah, blah...

Whatever...

In the past couple of weeks, I've attempted to deprive myself from all of the things that are "regular" to me to see if I really need them. I've done a good job. What I found out about myself is pretty startling to me, seeing as I didn't know certain things about myself because I wasn't on the outside looking in.

I don't need:

TV - Television for the kid is a waste of time. Sure, I am a sports nut, but I found that if I get to the gym to get an elliptical machine in front of the TV's blasting Sportscenter, I can get up to the minute scores and goings on in Testosterone Nation... All the TV I need.

Alcohol - I used to put the shit on like cologne backnthaday. I was stationed in various military spots in Asia from 1991 to 1993. I took that time to drink my ass off. I found that as I get older, my tolerance has weakened tremendously. I can't hang, and plus I get asshole-itis messing with that ish. You don't want to know me when I drink, so I don't. Anymore.

Haters - Especially folk you done grown close to that always hate on the shit you do because they can't or don't wanna try. I HAD a lot of those around me, most of them blood related. Leads to writer's block.

My Job - I quit (okay, I called in sick for a week and am thinking about quitting). I need to immerse myself in what feeds me spiritually and creatively.

The suburbs - I moved to the burbs to get away from the city. And to get amnesty for all of my parking violations, but fuggit... I miss the hustle and bustle. And there are certain folks that I cannot get to because there is a highway full of young gunners with badges that stop a certain dread ON THE REGULAR to meet citation quotas. Okay, there's a whole band of em'. Know me on a first name basis. So far I've spit up over $1000 in bullshit fines by the suburban courts with $556.60 to go on July 11th. I got current tags, a license and 2 insurance policies... Whatever.

A PC - I'm going Mac Mini. Soon. And I 'm an MCSE.

Radio - I know, I'll just make my own show and put that shit on my website. Playlist my ass. I hate commercial radio!!! And those punk ass "personalities".

A Personal Trainer - Fuggit... I'm getting a Yogi.

Fight. Keep fighting. Keep fighting back.















Don't let them punk you.

You know who you are.

So I go to this festival and guess who I run into

So I go to this festival and guess who I run into, originally uploaded by MrBlackfist.

My family! I didn't expect to run into the fam at Chicago's International Festival of Life, but it was good knowing that they have the same vibe as I.

Have a safe and happy hell-a-day weekend.

With your family.

you can see the stress