Blog Hookey Status Report

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Nothing.





That's what I've been up to. Absolutely friggin' nothing and it feels pretty good.



I mean, I've been working, hanging out with certain folks in all kinds of dank, dark beer gardens with my other half until damn near 5am (not that dark around 4:20am though), hanging out with extended fam at my best friend's aunt funeral (that was a trip, black folks and funerals provide plenty of nothing-type comedy) as well as helping a friend move into new digs. Memorial Day weekend was awesome as my sister made it in from Dallas and brought what I believe is the largest 18 month old little girl in my history of interacting with small children.

Shawty dusted off the meat offa' 8 chicken wings in one sitting. Thick ain't even the word mane.

Work, hanging out and the occasional adult beverage under the sun (or moon for that matter) under the guise of normalcy has been kind of theraputic. I think I have to continue my detachment from the world. To me it seems that the politics of the day and the continued non-action of my people disappoint me to the point where my faith has been shaken.

In them. I guess some folk misunderstood the latter part of my last post. Sarcasm, y'all. I said in another post that I would no longer share my plans with the world although that Geo Metro sounds real nice seeing the price of gasoline these days. Waaay too many haters, internet stalkers and cubicle gawkers to let folk know where I'll be next. Whatever, man. I like being away from the interweb doing much of nothing. I am partaking in a few extra hobbies though...

I have been taking a few pics over the last couple of weeks... That's a hobby, right?

all four of my young nephews Memorial Day weekend

ain't that grass green? don't ask about the hair

the parentals post-grub at the Rock Lobster

okay, this one is at a tatoo shop in Vegas...

So I guess you know who I got in the finals, huh?

You know something? I got married in that shirt. That's how much I love them 'Cs'


Okay... Going back to doing nothing

Esteem Issues And Real Life

Truth is, maybe it's just time for me to stop talking to myself.

Seeing that I'm almost 40, that means the influence from my generation is clear, concise and blatant, and this is the world I must live in because I and others like myself designed and implemented it.


I would say since May of 2000 I've been on the company of those that have needed my assistance and loved my motivational speech but didn't want me around for much else. The trend continues only because I'm a product of my designed environment. Not that I've been a doormat (I have for some and I've gone a long way emotionally, travel-wise and have even given up my own personal goals, beliefs and sometimes have even done things moralistically wrong to appease folks) for everyone, but this is what living for me feels like right now.

I know where I want to be in life and I speak of doing things to try to get there but it's always the folks, places and things the closest to you that get in your way, and that asks if you made the right decisions on things.

I no longer know if I have.

Blogging is the last thing I want to do among other things, but I still do it because this is the only constant I have going for me right now. I used to never come back to my blog and read things, but now I do. I hit the archives at random and see how low I can go when recalling the past. I'm noticing that my past and my present are pretty much the same as far as overall happiness goes which means that I shouldn't even prepare for the future because it'll be the same shit.

I am no better than anyone and I'm so disappointed in all of us. We all suck and none of us are doing anything to change the suckiness. From politics to personal issues to financial matters, all of the tools we need to make change are right in front of us, but we'd rather live with drama.

At least most of us will look good dying in vain.

I know I will.

But first, I gotta get my hair done.
And I need a manicure.
And I gotta incorporate, get an EIN and then file bankruptcy under my SSN
And get business credit and buy a home
And put a hydrogen filter on my car engine so I can get 45 mpg
Or buy a 1996 Geo Metro using my EIN and business credit
And get a business credit account at Sam's Club
And write off my car payment, up to half on my mortgage and my groceries
And with my savings I'll buy a boat
And use my equity from my expensive home to expand my business
Then file Chapter 11 like Hammer did and tuck 30 mil in a tax shelter
And use my deductible expenses via tax return to get tax lien certificates
And use my 23% interest earned to send my child to a HBCU
Hire my kids to manage my income properties, keeping the 30% property mgmt charges
Get old on my ranch
Dig up old line brothers and laugh at profits made when the frat bought a stake of Microsoft and spun it in the hood by opening up Prometric Training&Testing centers, churning out 19 year old database administrators and software support specialists


Wait...

I'm currently holding myself back. That'll never happen because...

Views From The Cheap Seats... And A Message

In response to my most recent post/rant, Terry wrote:

Strange you should bring this up.

My Son is a product of his environment. The only child of a White Father and African-American Mother. As I have said before, literally the ancestry of the Slave and the Slave Owner.

His world was never clouded. He knew the evil that one half of his family inflicted on the other. He knows that not every man has always been pure at heart.

I was proud this year that he decided to attend Morehouse College. However, he has informed me that during the semester he has not always been happy.

Apparently he has experienced a culture gap. When asked the question, "What's up my nigga?" He replied. "Who the hell you talking to? No one in my family has been a nigga in 30 years."

He told me that although Morehouse was a fine institution and he was "getting along", he felt that many had the "BBB's" (busy being black). He was depressed that so many complained, but did little to change the circumstances of the day. That he had never seen his race be so full of excuses and doubt for who, and what, they are.

"I only see a false sense of pride here Dad", he said. "We are only a short distance from where one of our greatest Alumni is buried and no one understands what REALLY happened during his life. I mean, we call each other nigga's Dad. I might have expected that back in the streets at home, but not here. Never here."

It appears my young Son has learned far more than I paid for.

Perhaps the old men are getting younger. We can always pray such is true.

And 5 days ago he shot me this:

Well, you know me...I mean you know I had something to say about it.

I consider myself a very lucky man. Unlike most white folks, I've seen the African-American community up close and personal. It kinda goes with the territory when you're married to a Black Woman for 22 years.

There is no doubt in my mind that a double standard exists in EVERY aspect of our society. And that double standard has almost systematically bread the African-American community of today.

It is a vicious circle that seems to be hard to break. I see it in my own Son who is only half black, but that half often puts him in a category that he would admittedly not like to be in.

Despite mine and his Mother's efforts to show him a different way to think, I see in him the moronic ideals our predominately white society places in front of him. Often, I feel like I'm pushing a rock up hill with him, and the hill just keeps getting higher.

Here's the sad truth however. I actually have an easier time with him than a Father would if he were Black. My skin opens doors that might not ordinarily be opened for him. But often, even that is not enough.

I am not now nor have I ever been a fan of any organized religion. I find that religion is the great evil in the world. That's right, I said it. More wars and people have died in the name of religion than ANY self imposed act in the history of our planet.

But I will say that most of White America has a very elitist attitude when it comes to God. Their white skinned, blonde haired Jesus is a little bit better than the dark skinned, Aramaic man Jesus really was.

After all, man was created in God's image. That would have had to be a White man right? - Yeah right. ( he said with a sarcastic sneer)

The double standard and the hidden message that a Black Man will never be good enough will continue. And it will not end when African-Americans begin to feel better about them selves. It will only end when that happens, AND White America begins to understand that they do not have a leg up on people of color. The sense of superiority, (and that's what it is, make no mistake about it), will have to stop!

No President can change that.


A very crisp and great view from The Cheap Seats... (I wonder if he's open?)

And then yesterday Alyson said to me:

"The greatest tool of the oppressor is the mind of the oppressed." - Stephen Biko.

Those who try to "free" others end up disappearing in the night or die of "accidental" deaths.


Maybe my views are valid but pot stirring...
Maybe I should just stand down.

You read my blog. You may not agree with me. What do you think?

Old Surly Bastard

Call me Old Man Johnson.

I have to be, even though I don't mean to be. I'm drop kicking 40 in the ass and I am so disappointed in us as a people...

I still go around and read all of y'alls blogs on the regular. So much talent, passion and desire out there and that makes me get all Valentine's Day inside but...

I know waaay of too many of us (and I ain't strictly talking about black folk here) that choose not to speak, don't wanna, haven't been taught by those that barely escaped the 50's and 60's or are put in a position where they are censored. I'm talking about speaking on it. Life. Happiness free of racism, sexism, freedom to choose and practice whatever we like and just freedom of some damn enjoyment.

My great-grandfather was a slave's son. And I knew him.

I spoke to him.

He taught me things.

I was amazed just being in his presence.

He was born right outside slavery after emancipation happened. He worked, learned, got married, headed up a household and made the babies that made me thru Jim Crow, segregation, the Klan era, the Civil Rights Movement, the New Deal, the free living 60's, J.J, Themla and em' on 'Good Times' in the 70's and even the beginning of the Hip Hop era with Big Bad Hank, Master Gee and SugarHill into the end of the 80's. He was 100 and some change (records were altered and destroyed) when he passed and I was pissed because although I was a teenager in high school, Alzheimer's took his last few years and I had just really started to pay attention.

I miss Alfred Harris. He was my mother's mother's father and he was there for most of the struggle. He wasn't afraid to speak on it and demand what he knew was rightfully his.

Most of us these days are.

Afraid, that is.

The constitution of this country gives us all the right to choose and cannot discriminate based on these choices. The reason we still live here is because it's damn sure better than Darfur. There is no back to Africa because we built this and history does not teach it, so millions of kids outside of the black community do know know that everything from the light bulb to outpatient surgery to the traffic lights we run (and even the iPod) would have never made it to existence without the hands, passion and minds of a black person.

So we're treated like three fifths.
Issues are polarizing.
We are prey to the criminal justice system.
I am a common thug and my wife is a whore.
We always complain and only want handouts.

We are better than this but legend, entertainment and cultural conditioning would have us to believe that we are less than even though we collectively are the 9th largest earning nation on the planet.

And to most average Americans Afro-centricity is un-American.

And we call ourselves niggers.
Our women identify themselves as bitches.
We demean ourselves in front of our children.
We go to school and pick up our kids with our titties out.
Tats showing...
Argue with teachers over the care of our child and then neglect them at home.
Your kid's teacher is probably a weed head and drinks a lot because you devote 40+ hours to work and don't even check shortie's homework.
Some sisters will never address their absent fathers and the uncles and cousins that have touched them... and take this out on honest brothers.
Some brothers can't seem to grow the fuck up and chase pussy all day in an attempt to launch conquest over either not being made whole by daddy or being a bitch-assed man because of unresolved issues with mommy.
Most entreprenegroes invest in non-equitable items (rims, cars and jewelry that lose value by the second) and let gentrification gobble up the precious hood they represent.
Most good women fall for good for nothing thug wannabes
Most good gay men fall for flip floppers that can't commit or just wanna play house because they're afraid to take on society as a gay male couple.
Most good gay women fall for and date themselves when they need solid, firm yang to their ying.
Most men want to marry their mothers and fuck over good women to find that lost place of nutriment.
Most children get lost in the Matrix because mom and dad are busy working or clubbing and are afraid to ask for help because then they become failures in the eyes of the family.
Most parents aren't even grown yet and think because Snoop says 'bitch' it's okay and then get the hammer dropped on their ass when their child says it and acts like a little bitch.
Most bitches aren't women.
Nothing is off limits.
No one commits anymore.
Ignorance is the new badge of courage, but one is well versed on gossip, rumor and innuendo.
Most of us don't have the internet or a fast enough speed due to cost and our children, communication, education and being up on current events suffer but can find out what Mariah and Nick Cannon are doing RIGHT NOW...
How many of us own property and pay taxes on it?
How many of us have a real opinion on the political issues based on research and participation?
Where were you in Jena?
Lima, OH?
NYC in protest of the Sean Bell verdict?

History is happening right fucking now and I refuse to be the part my great-grandchildren shake their head about on the re-tell.

My personal opinion is that most of y'all don't even know you're free, but I still love you.

Scared negroes.

Don't ask to borrow anything, you might it bring it back the way I lent it.

When Change Is Just The Stuff Jingling In Your Cup...

I have always made attempts to make positive change in my life.

I listened to my elders to make sure mistakes from the past weren't made
I've surrounded/eliminated folks based on the amount of change needed for my overall success
I've traveled and put myself in places and have broken bread with folks for that same success
I keep tweaking my plan, criticizing myself more than others
I never turn the console off, I save the game and try not to hit the reset button
I keep learning

In my years of being here in this life, in this moment and surrounded by these people, places and things I have to admit that I've grown tired of certain folk and their ways. The majority is scared and they don't want to make change to make things better. To them, things are fine the way they are.

I read the comments online versions of the major newspapers let the casual reader make and if I were never convinced before I am truly a believer that I live in the most hateful, racist demonic society in the history of the world. I'm sure that if a surf was resurrected he or she would argue. I'm also sure the spirit of a dead slave (Kemetian or of African descent) is looking at me right now as I write this with their lips twisted, but... This has to be true or a whole lotta' Americans hide behind a net persona and talk a gang of ish but...

What would spark this type of behavior, even if those words, opinions and criticisms are false?

The heart never lies.

The fact that I live in a so-called community where every black woman, including my other half is angry and condescending when speaking of 'the black man' disappoints me. I could beg all of my so-called sisters to not be angry at me or to be a little patient because the past is not indicative of future performance but that falls on deal ears. I'll always be marginalized by my own first before anyone else, and that is an immense pain that causes discomfort and creates distance.

The truth of the matter is that most of my brethren form line bruz to the cat on the other bar stool wishes in vain that our sisters weren't so preoccupied with mentally and emotionally paying us back for something some of our good for nothing fathers, uncles and grandfathers did to their mothers, aunts and grandmas way back when.

Which leads me to white folks.

Wait, Let me get back to them in a minute.

I have at least two handfuls of black men that I know that are punk-assed do nothing ass pseudo hard working, womanizing ass 'brothers' raised by either a single black woman or in some cases actually comes from a two parent household where mother dearest ain't nothing but an unsatisfied bitch of a woman (attitude wise, and these days she admits this!) that feels some sense of entitlement from the baller section of niggerdom and fusses about the lack of baller-brother participation all the damn time but never realizes that they either never tried to go after said ballers in our community because they thought they were less than (based on how they were raised), or just settled for the first decent cat that actually cared or gave a damn about them so in that case, the black man in that home is not head of household, he is just a snake-bitten figurehead with no equal power based on the both of them settling instead of spiritually or emotionally achieving equal ness in being yolked. The hate and self-loathing is evident and a black man is raised in that environment devoid of spirituality and respect for the black man or woman in general.

And you wonder why that young man goes out into the world as a womanizing ass, underachieving, good for nothing punk?

Now imagine what kind of lady little princess turns out to be when she gets grown. Just throw a dub in there with the singles as she slides down the pole.

Looking for love in all the wrong places because punk-ass parents raise punk ass kids. This is my peer pool.

Now, back to white folks.

Why must I have to explain everything to you? You already understand because it is you that changes the rules as the game goes on. The Rev. Wright situation proved to me that whenever you wanted to make change, you just blissfully romp in your ignorance and use external forces (see: the media) to make things seem like we made the change and the truth is that we're still getting pennies and scraps from the table. Black folk came here and were not christian. We learned everything Jesus from your evangelists and in the days of slavery, black ministers had to receive hands on training from the white church so the words and phrase used in sermons and such were to the point where we knew we were not free.

So when white scholars introduced liberation theory at seminaries across the world why wouldn't our own scholar ministers flock to these institutions in an attempt to properly apply said theory to the black and brown masses once we got to freedom's door? Even though we are STILL written off as three fifths of a human being in our grand master documents of law and justice, the majority continues to mention that we are free. The bible and q'uran also mentions that all of God's children are free and black ministers, imams and rabbi have been able to for a couple hundred years now have been preaching and teaching this. Hell, Pat Robertson, Billy Graham and John Hagee preach and teach their own version of liberation theory through the body of Christ and no one says nothing of the hatred, separation and judgement taught by these so-called gentlemen but when Jeremiah does it...

You act like you don't know and get offended.

So I ask the 'hard working, working class white person':

Is it okay to worship your god as we were taught, or is there a double standard in which my people and I are forced to live sub standard in every way, shape and form in this country? Your numbers are dwindling. You are afraid to let someone that does not look like you take the helm because you're afraid that you won't get the opportunity to get it back. You're afraid of losing your land, jobs and money, and you don't want to talk about the methods, ways and rules used and established by your ancestors that have us in this state because selected memory has you blissfully ignorant.

Keep pandering to others outside your borders when your own needs help.
Keep ignoring the Mexican and African descendant.
Keep hording and hiding history and religion.
Keep telling us that the past is not indicative of the present/future and lying about it.
The end result won't be pretty


I live in world of double standards, with people that use policy and religion to perpetrate fear and folks that hate themselves so much that they will raise entire generations to fail. I want so badly to be free but I live in a barrel with a bunch of crabs...

Live in a land where the goal line moves on first and goal...

And spirituality and religion is used to hold people inside a fence of fear.


All folks (black, white, Latin or Asian) aren't this way but the vast majority of folks let fear, ignorance, hatred and lack of spiritual depth hold us to the substandard. And I am pressed to improve myself to achieve within this realm.

I'll never get it right.

If that's the case, I'm on my way to being divorced, lonely, penniless and separated from God with bastard children that hate me and then themselves as well as those that don't look like them.

At least I'll be a part of a voting block that'll elect the next president. That's all I'm worth, right?

Fuck change.

2sDay

Funny... I spent the weekend in Tulsa, Oklahoma and the weather was spectacular. So how come 17 people in less than a ten mile radius ended up dead due to bad weather?

And why did Chicago crime take a break when I left?

And why is Michael Vick convicted and in jail when Sean Bell and Tarika Wilson's murderers roam the streets free and without a hand slap?

Also, why is there emphasis on a primary election today when a political party is crumbling? Glad I'm not a Democrat.

The Power Of Intent

I know I promised back in April that I'd blog every day in May for some reason or another, but I felt like reneging on that.

There is so much on my mind and running thru that I could do something on the daily, but most times (since last fall) I feel like if I share too much then occasional lurkers, haters and such could meet me at the corner store with a mental list of groceries they'd think I'd buy based on old habit, shit I ate in front of them back in the day... Stuff like that.

I stay guarded these days. Even with my other half, I've developed this habit of only telling her things either as I do them or when I'm on the brink because trust is built over time and folks will pull away even when you're pushing them with their permission. Not that we don't plan or budget for bills and such or sit and enjoy each other, I just am not in the mode of telling folks what my next move is strategically because most times it freezes them up and my shit becomes compromised. Remember the corner store thingee in that paragraph above.

Fear, hate, hateration, mistrust, doubt, habit and silence are all killers in the eyes of folks that dream and try to act upon them. I have given in to this fact that this is the world I live in and there is nothing much I can do but live in that realm. See, I'm not afraid to announce my shortcomings to the world because I know that I am not alone. It's the fact that there are a bunch of slightly overweight, grown-ass men with old people ailments at a young age that pay taxes and abide the law every day that have personal issues with folks right in their own homes and some abroad, living nicely but have a handful of debts over their heads that go out and work every day and deal with loved ones and strangers that have problems worse than theirs that just won't speak the fuck up and acknowledge their own shit so for me there is no one else in common to peer up with so in announcing plans and such I stand by myself.

I am unfortunately alone.

So there is a lot that I cannot share.

So I don't.

I could rant and rave over politics, sports and women like most cats that blog do but I don't. I'm not trying to differentiate myself from anyone or stand out. There are a lot of cats out there that have witty droppings or are unwittingly posting for pussy that have a fan base. I have been accused of using this forum in the relentless pursuit of the poi poi and at times I've been forced to prove otherwise. That ain't the reason I'm here.

I've been doing this shit right here since 2000 when I ended a decade and then some relationship with with my high school sweetheart in some vain attempt to purge my inner demons and find out why my thang is so dysfunctional. I've owned five domain names and blogged under three (brownblogger being the latter), the other two I had to shut down because they just weren't supposed to exist in partnership with certain situations and people and I still feel like this is the most cathartic thing for me to do even though I hate doing it these days.

I've had folks stalk my blog and also study it in order to get the right answers in order to get close to me only to ostracize me and make me a villain in their lives. I've had women and men email me with all sorts of offers business, sexual, fraternal and otherwise just to gain my favor. With the exception of three people, I've refused to even hear most out. I've gotten emails, text messages and voice mails from those that had ulterior motive thru their actions to get me to validate themselves, even though the only thing I ever hoped to accomplish with blogging is to gain understanding of my own self. Some of those situations had led me to hate a few, even with me going as far as damn near providing actions towards and wishing them death.

One thing you do not know about me that I'm going to tell is that there was a launching point of my expressive self. I was graduating the eighth grade and even though I had a daddy in my stepfather who met my mom somewhere in my fourth year of life, Ma Dukes kept telling me of my biological father who fell off the edges of the planet with the help of my grandmother shortly after I was born. I was told how I look like him, acted like him and how my shape and hue was just like this cat. So of course one day when Pops was at work and I was getting yet another report about this cat she called him.

Damn.

Now I'm a grown-ass man and I understand the paradigm of relationships between baby daddy slash baby momma as it relates to the trust factor of a particular captain save a hoe or him and what that does for the normalization of rent and food costs per capita in the Midwest circa the late twentieth century. What I didn't understand is how quickly she used a rotary phone and got dude on the other end and had him talking to me when I know that my step dad was hitting it with tenacity enough to have my mother sprung (we supported his drug habit for years) and manufacture my younger sibs on one income in the 70's minus Bookman, Willona and Penny. Balderman Davis did make appearances every fourth episode in fulfillment of his CBS contract per the actor's guild and was able to keep his open schedule abstract from city business to show off his favorite family outside the projects which netted us valuable TV time as well as free cheese and powdered milk on the regular.

Okay, so my mother was still in love with my biological, no problem. What I got over the phone was this manufactured concern and advice on how to get thru high school and a tip or two on women. I said three or four words and made sure I never called him sir, hung up the phone when asked to speak back to my mother, looked at her and said: "I already have a father, fuck this guy." I walked out the room and it was just a few years ago that she tried to invoke the name of dude in front of me when she stopped herself short of doing so because she remembered my expression.

From that point I felt the need to let folks know from the jump what was going on in my mind because I knew where I wanted to be and how in certain situations and with certain folk. Most times it works but sadly there are times when me expressing myself just doesn't resonate with whomever.

Being the asshole know-it-all that tells you so has never hurt me. One of the many valuable lessons I learned in the military is how most folks will use you and all that you have for their own emotional gain. War isn't about strategy or death for that matter. War is the act of using folks, situations and places for the simple justification of one's existence and the padding of their soul so they can die in peace knowing that their shit actually meant something to them and the defense of that theory. This is what most people do to you, so I prepare for that shit by waking up every morning and knowing it will happen to me in some way, shape or form. Knowing that it takes an asshole know-it-all to tell you so that you'll understand hurts immensely. I tire of playing that role but I am required to do so damn near daily. It ain't a blog persona I play online, trust me, when I say that I'm the asshole with the painful reality check knowing that fear and pain controls what you do.

Too bad it has taken real time spent offline for some to find out. And they still do nothing cause' they're scared, live in fear and are comfortable in performing non-action.

I just wanna be me and I'll always express myself. I'm not required to post it online every day. Dr. Wayne Dwyer pushes the opinion that the power is in the intent and most know of my intentions so from this point (again) I will not push myself onto you, who ever you are even though I never have. You have to choose between the red pill or blue. I cannot apologize in advance if your experience is not what you expect so choose wisely.

Until then I'll keep expressing myself the way I wanna. I do own the domain name, I just need the intention to do so and the time even though I remain guarded and feel like I can trust no one. Sometimes I ask myself why I come back and post at all.

Doctor, Doctor

I didn't feel guilty as I sat across from her. This was the same woman I stripped in front of a handful of weeks earlier confidently asking about medications, fasting and such. I was surprised how things went that day, I just never knew how this so-called non date would affect me in coming home.

I was in Houston and I was in a funk. I thought I was where I was supposed to be and I appreciated every bit of it. A month or two earlier I was in Chicago trudging through the winter months going to a job I didn't want any part of while keeping my ex-girlfriend's couch warm and putting up with her boyfriend. Don't ask how I got there, the ex and I figured out right after she cheated on me how we were perfect and better off as friends than we were lovers. After getting back into Chicago her couch was available, so I took it and crashed there for a moment.

I was trying to get back into the trucking industry after suffering an injury to my shoulder. When going through the application process, the fed gives a mighty gauntlet to get over in order to drive and I failed the physical. I had pneumonia but worse I was diabetic. There was someone that was showing me interest down in Texas and I asked if I could come there and get some help getting back on my feet and she said yes. I got a free ticked to better weather and what I though would be better environment for me employment-wise and creatively.

Neither happened, and most of it had to do with where I wanted to be.

Houston was what I expected coming from the south side of Chicago and getting employed was a challenge. The environment provided by my host and her friends was exactly as advertised, but by the time I got to the end of the summer things began to fall apart. I went to the Houston VA and there was another sister really eager to assist me in getting back on point, and that was unexpected.


It took damn near two months to get an appointment with the VA and I did not miss my initial appointment after getting notification in the mail. I knew I was in for an EKG, a stress test and about ten other challenges as well as me knowing that I would get poked, prodded and would be giving up blood so we can get a plan in action. When I got to the strip down and put this on portion of the evaluation I knew some old, white cat would stroll in and lecture me about too many lipids, the downfall of red meats and such, so why did I freeze up when a sister about my age came walking into the room and identified herself as my evaluating doctor?

Our conversation was long and detailed. She made me tell her everything without even asking. Here I was half naked and overweight, hair standing on top of my head after running on a treadmill and all she could do was look me in my eye and tell me what I needed to do to get back on track health-wise so we could get together and do a little something and me not die from her putting it on me.

It never dawned to me that she was a doctor and saw dudes much worse off than me at the VA and I had some sort of redeeming quality that had her interested in me particularly. It was she who extended her number and asked if I would be cool having dinner with her as she handed me prescriptions for an anti-depressant, high blood pressure medication, blood thinners and aspirin. She also advised me that as long as I had stress, high blood pressure and was on the mood altering pills that I would have side effects other than the ones I was having before I started taking the drugs.

Fast forward a few weeks later and here we were at a hotel right off downtown and I was nervous. I caller her after a few weeks of arguments, emotional ups and downs and me complaining about being in Texas and me practically being dared to leave and change my situation on my own by my host. Here I thought I was going to hook up with this doctor and that she could help me take the edge off and get back on track sexually, that wasn't even the case. Our conversation went from one extreme to the other and I was amazed in this woman's patience and eagerness to assist.

She asked me the most outlandish questions, from her initial amazement that I was actually taking the drugs she prescribed to how things like how my libido and circulation would never be the same. She questioned my motives about being in Houston and asked me if I was in love with another sister from Texas that I had been in constant contact with for a year and some change previous to me coming there. She challenged me to follow my heart and leave the man made chemicals alone and also convinced me to go to Chicago alone for vacation.

She knew that I was damaged goods and had painted myself in a corner in being where I was across the table from her, but she also dug me like an old soul record and knew as long as the right DJ came along the needle would be put in the right grooves...

"I did her, not just to say that I did it
But I'm committed, but so many niggaz hit it
That shes just not the same lettin' all these groupies do her
I see niggaz slammin' her, and takin' her to the sewer
But imma take her back hopin' that the shit stop
Cause who I'm talkin' bout y'all is hip-hop"

Common - 'I Used To Love H.E.R.


It turned out to be a short lived affair... She knew what my ailments were and still gave me play. She recommended that I stop taking the drugs and follow my heart and deal with my physical shortcomings holistically, and I did. She told me to go home and be around folks that wanted to be around me and stop playing with my own heart and others. She knew that things would only rotate between us a few times so she told me to make the phone calls that would change my life and I did. From the time that we shared dinner at a non-descript restaurant in Houston, Texas to the time I went 'home' for a weeks vacation last year, all of the things she told me would happen did.

I doubted the shit out of her, but I giver her credit because she knew.

She emailed me the other day and asked if I was enjoying Chicago, like she knew I was here. She didn't, so I replied back to her and told her the wife and I are adjusting to the big city well.

That was the first time I got only a smiley face in the body of an email.

A Scared Negro Will Get You Killed

So let me catch up...

Now you have to choose.

Straight from the pages of the Willie Lynch handbook, you let someone else dictate to you who is valid and who isn't via sound clips and because we have a solid history of explaining our suffrage to master one of the choices has to explain himself?

What?

Wait... both choices had to explain themselves...

Wait, only one of em' is running.

The black candidate had to explain himself AND throw the distraction under the proverbial bus because none of "them" liked the preacher's expressions because it was scary talk.

Problem is, as the preacher talked everyone had something negative to say about the candidate, but

NO ONE TOOK THE PREACHER TO TASK OVER WHAT HE SAID

Normally, when a person is "talking out the side of his neck", the powers that be challenges that person's crazy talk and charges them as a liar because we all know that crazy talk is nothing but lies, but...

I guess Jeremiah Wright was spewing truths from the pulpit last weekend like a crazy man... And John Hagee never said anything that holds John McCain liable or nothing that Bill Clinton did or said means nothing to Hillary's candidacy.

Interesting on how certain folks never have to explain.

What this boils down to is the majority doesn't like the minority bringing up its past because the truth indeed hurts and the minority candidate has to distance himself from all things minority in order for the majority to feel comfortable enough until he or she is fully committed to living in the most extreme house niddardly ways, actions and attitude.

And I'm supposed to sing "God Bless AMerikkka?"

If you let yet another distraction from Fox, CNN, MSNBC, ABC, CBS, NBC and other corporate owned media outlets and TV soothsayers like O'Reily, Limbaugh, Beck, Cooper, Dobbs and the rest of em' sway you from the issues and Carl Rove your ass into scary politics mode then you are a scared negro regardless what ethnic group you emanate from.

A scared negro will get you killed.

Fellow blog reader, you have the power of the entire universe in front of you at your fingertips in the internet. You feel scared? Okay, here's a little homework assignment from The Brown Blogger:

Prove Rev. Dr. Jeremiah Wright wrong.

Bring me enough evidence to totally prove him 100% wrong in his theory, truths and his account of history and I will join the scared negro bandwagon and salute the same flag I defended in wartime with no reservations.

I will also take everything my grandparents and parents taught me along with all that Rev Wright, Dr. Claud Anderson and Dr.John Henrik Clarke taught me as well as other scholars from the black, African and native communities and flush it away as utter bullshit.

Since today is liberation day, I challenge you to liberate yourself from the spin and either educate yourself or re-affirm yourself in your own truth in the least.

I also need you to ask yourself why my community has to remain divided over nonsense, why we must continue to explain ourselves to "working class, small-town Americans" and why everyone fears the day that a black man or a woman will hold power over the executive branch of this country.

I also challenge you to answer why black folks in 2008 think they have made it and choose not to fight.

From Sean Bell to the Jena 6, from Rodney King to the federal case exonerating James Earl Ray from the assassination of Dr. King and officially calling it a government conspiracy to commit murder, from Hurricane Katrina to Barack Obama being not black enough, too black, a Muslim, not experienced and now not electable based on what someone else is saying...

Damn near 500 years of being treated like a piece of crap in America from slavery to redlining, to lynchings to overt and institutionalized racism, from being given a God to serve and then having to explain liberation theology to the captors, from lack of credit financially and in the forming of American history to our current living conditions...

Most of y'all don't wanna fight because you'll lose your internet connection.

Or rims
or sub standard paying job
or position in church
or something or another that'll make you feel that you no longer have status or material things.

And to think that your parents uncles and aunts... Grandparents and their peers would take to the streets in order to get free just to get hosed, beaten and attacked by dogs.

And we collectively waste the opportunity and are still marginalized.

I guess I'm going to die soon because there are a lot of scared negroes regardless of their color or background. That saying is from back in the day and it still holds true:

A scared negro will get you killed.

I live amongst a bunch of scared punks that know not how to fight and that have accomplished nothing.

Happy May Day. Enjoy your fight.

Is It A Bird... Flying Over A Woman... With Big Breasteses???

It's been a minute, I know.

I've grown a year older (so some say) and I've just observed the harsh realities of living in America pass by with little to no resistance.

I'm not sad.

Not angry either.

I knew all the time that we were right where we are now because most of us need entertainment and distractions to keep us sane.

Me?

I'm enjoying life and doing pretty much what I want to do. It's hard to get back into some sort of blogging groove when stuff like this is happening. My wife and I spend a whole lot of time together and we've done the extreme/tv/naked couch thing just as much as we've crossed into five states so far in the big rig. She tries to hang in there as my co-pilot but her seat in the truck isn't an air ride seat like mine.

Although I like to watch her breasteses bounce all over the interstate as I navigate Big Baby II (what I call the rig) I gotta get the cargo there safely so my eyes go back to the road. I still peek though. Those are my tits anyway, right? Better than some stranger titties. Stranger titties can't cook or want to soak in the jacuzzi with my smelly, fresh off-the-road ass or likes going out for stir fry. Plus, I know the noise from the truck, my loud-ass old school hip hop and the constant bumps of the road has to be the most uncomfortable thing for my wife ever, so I appreciate her weekly ride outs in the truck with me.

I like the road...

I can't believe that I'm giving that all up to work from home. Haven't set up the office yet, but...

I don't like the reality of working from home. A little too confining for me but I gotta do for my family. And I secretly want her to go back to work and let me take maternity leave when the baby comes. That'll make working from home cool.

Until I get drowend out by a screaming child with a client on the phone...




Did I just blog about my wife's breasts?

And a baby?


Okay, I'm out.

Here's a promise: I'll blog EVERYDAY IN THE MONTH OF MAY
Well, that's the plan. But it's April right now, so....


I gotta go.

Words From A Blissfully Happy Dude

You ever wonder if this is the place you're supposed to be?

I stopped asking myself that question a while ago.

I was just on the phone with my sister in spirit talking about being in the right place at the right time with the right people in the right situation regardless what other people want for you. We ended up talking about being knee deep in what other folks wanted for you and how it kills you in tiny particles the longer you stay in it.

I realized a while ago that I'm not standing knee deep in someone else's doo doo.

I also realized that even though I went down a path I had no clue about I am where I want and need to be. Even though I never wanted to get married or have children or be a family man. It took my blog crush from the peach state and all of the shit she muddled thru to motivate me to do what I did in 06' in just trashing everything and starting over from scratch.

Even though I dialed into someone that was too busy finding and developing self and needed me in a different capacity in which she hadn't vocalized...

Befriended a sister that I should have befriended first so I could have taken her works and writings to heart and to spirit instead of attempting to date her...

I know I took the right path to where I am now.

I never intended to marry my wife when I did. Don't get it twisted, I'm glad I did and our relationship over the years has led me to being in this place but that wasn't my original intent, the marriage part that is. I got the engagement ring the day I was to fly to Vegas and knew the night I proposed that I was to lock this relationship up forever. I wasn't that unsure about marriage but I had questions about the timing of things. Weird though... Everything we did from the night I landed in Vegas to the day we got married was supposed to happen. And that happened without our consent.

Glad it did though. Being in that time and place was an immense blessing.

That's when I knew that it had absolutely nothing to do with my music, poetry or business dealings I aligned myself with when I returned to Chicago. My family comes first, and I am just a bit player in that whole movement and I have to do what I must to maintain family ties, grow that in the name of love and be rich in its movement. The moment I stepped back from myself in all of my selfishness things immediately got better.

I already knew who I was and what I could do.
I already knew what needed to be done to further self and gain from that monetarily.
I already had the knowledge and skill set to help me do what I wanted.

All of that 'knowledge' got me nowhere fast in the past.

What I didn't know is that I had to get a box of nails instead of trying to always swing the damn hammer. I also had to have faith that whoever had the hammer wasn't going to smash my damn fingers as I held the nail.

That means we're building the roof in the grand scheme of things in our lives. The foundation was already there and everyone from my sibs and extended family and friends to my wife in her dealings ignored that it was standing right there in our faces and we acted like it didn't exist. I guess that's why Jesus was a carpenter, huh?

I'm supposed to be right here in Chicago with my family building and not in Atlanta chasing things that aren't there for me.

I'm supposed to be a husband, a father, a son, brother or uncle because what we create and cultivate whether it be nieces and nephews, cousins or siblings or big up one of my many parents is the support we need to have in order to be a strong unit. What we have accomplished since my return family wise has been amazing. Blame my great aunt for cussing us to get out collective shit together and bonding and doing for each other like we never have before. Elders are elders for that reason. That was the catalyst for change, and so far the support has been a great reason for other family member's successes. Even got a cat out of jail. He went to work the same day he got bailed out. And to think, they fired him the day he got arrested.

I'm supposed to look at my life and see more than just myself, and that's where family and friends come in. I couldn't see that back then because although there were other people that helped and assisted me, some folks were right there but for all the wrong reasons. That ain't a slight to anyone in particular, it's just the truth. Since I got out of the military in 1992, there have been many standing right there prepping to be in the family picture but only a few actually remain to be photographed. For whatever reason... Most of the folks that have been there have my blood running through their veins or is close to someone that has.

I'm not supposed to tell you wheat I'm doing these days. For a few that come through here (just a few), the hateration level, sarcasm and doubt remains at levels too high to measure. Just because you cannot do doesn't mean we haven't already done.

My spirit comes first. For some that's God or something, someone or some things in the spiritual realm. After that comes my wife and then my family and friends. Now days when I have something to say that I'd want to blog about or something or another I can turn over in bed, call my brother or sister or say it to a friend over a cold adult beverage.

That's what's up.

Or I can always call my lawyer.

Or my little sister in the spirit.

I think that's how things are supposed to be in my little world. I'm settling into my home (nee: The Compound), still flying around the country (and driving less) to visit new family and friends. Prepping for huge events and squeezing in vacation time while maintaining quality time with my other half. I'm having fun and enjoying being who I am, where I am.

I thank my unseen muse (remember that piece?). I still think about you and am glad you're doing well. You still remain to be exactly what you've always been, but...

Someone else is having my baby. I love her dearly and am glad that we chose each other. That was right and exact in the eye of The Creator and I'm excited in seeing what tomorrow brings us. As for you, I already see that what we talked about is on its way.

And you still inspire me to write the hot shit.

Alyson, Langston and the DOD don't have to call that far in advance... I think we'll get an itinerary beforehand anyway...

And I think we'll know when The Second Sixty-Eight is coming...

And I still have thoughts of a life happy in a shade of creativelyblue...





I have no idea what I just blogged about... I was just typing and have no desire to delete what I just said. And why should I?

Whatever It Takes

I am amazingly lazy when it comes to blogposts these days. I've gotten complacent and trust me when I say that this is a good thing. For most of my adult life I resisted a life like this when it is exactly what I both wanted and needed. The trust issues I had with myself and others manifested in me doing things and being in places that I either didn't want or like or wasn't supposed to be in the first damn place.

I can't get mad at myself like I want to because I would have never gotten here. I needed to do all of the things I needed to do in order to keep this timeline. I'm one of those folks that believe in the time-space continuum. All of the actions, events and emotions from back in the day are absolutely necessary for me to be right here, right now. Any variation would have me someplace else, miserable and wishing that I could get it over quickly.

And I know that some of y'all that stop thru here wish I was that miserable, lost non-person that used to rant and rave all over the place all unhappy and thangs wishing that my life could end just as quick as some of the BS that came thru and affected my life, but no. In this moment I cannot be that person because he is long dead. And rightfully so. He served no purpose whereas I... Well, you know about me these days.

The poetry is still being written, it's just not being shared with you.

Whatever it takes y'all.

Take no offense to song and written word not being put in this place, like years ago when I existed in a more blissfully ignorant state I have outlets other than here on Blogger for my outbursts. There is more to life than trying to squeeze the extremes of life here on the internet. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I have a life partner that I can trust with everything and just a little while ago I could look you in the eye and tell you that a person like that did not exist.

Well, they didn't.

I never knew that I'd find completion right under my nose. Not like that. Really. Seems right though because I've known her like forever but never thought that it could be her. I'm grateful that things in this universe move the way that they do.

Lazy blogposts.

Days without thinking about coming here even though my 85% of my job is done over the internet and I'm still writing and composing. I guess when I get the urge I will still share. Maybe not. I got a lot of White Sox games to attend.

And after last night, hanging out with my best friend could be defined either with my brother, my road dog or my wife. The synergy in the oneness of that statement meaning the same thing is life changing for me. A lot of us cannot make that happen for the life of us, but I know now I can.

Now, all we need to do is get our singles together for the strip club...

I'm kidding.

Unless my wife likes to go... Knowing where a stripper has been spoils the experience for me, so I normally chaperon those field trips, hang out in the back and not drink in attempts to keep my dogs from overspending, fighting and overindulging in the cheap adult beverages offered in those spots. I'll have to check and see is she wants to go. That'll be an adventure.

Just hold the 151 please.

Other than that, I'll keep up my incocnegro pace and enjoy being in this moment. I still know the web address, I'll be around.

Its Memphis, Man...

It's Monday night and I think I just got the use of both of my nostrils since sometime last year. May not mean crap to you but it has great significance to me. It's been so long since I've been able to breathe using my entire nose.

It was a nice, quiet weekend I had.
Hope yours was just as good.

My other half and I was supposed to spend the weekend in Memphis. I've never been to the Lorraine Motel and really wanted to go this past but, we just didn't go. She even suggested that I go by myself while she visited folks back in her old home state but I balked at going to something so significant alone.

I didn't want to be in Memphis by myself. Not without my anchor. It would have been too much emotionally with rededications, reflecting, marching and all, so I put in a little work and she didn't have to take time Friday and today away from the new gig. We'll save that for later this month I guess.

We did spend a quiet weekend here at the compound.
We did get out so we could walk it out.
Shared breakfast, lunch, dinner and breakfast again (wash, rinse and repeat) with no interruptions from outsiders... That was friggin great right there!

Sounds pretty boring to you maybe, but being right here, right now in this moment is as cool as the other side of the pillow.

I'm going to watch the rest of the national championship game, go soak with my Yobo and prep for another day. My mother always says that it's right there in front of you. If I wake up tomorrow then I'll get to it when I get there. Tonight, I'm just going to enjoy what's in front of me.

Hey, stop reading this and go do the same.

I'm so proud of you Brother Derrick. From the Chi, to Memphis to San Antonio... Champ has a nice ring to it.

Hometown!!! The crown jewel of the 'Dream Team'

Shouts to Kansas for bring defense and their 'A' game.

Fin.

Friday and Photosynthesis

I mean, really...

I'm not even in the mood to blog anymore. Not that I feel like I'm running out of things to say or wax poetically about, I'm just content in the place that I am right now. Blame my wife for that.

After getting to Chicago and settling in at the compound I knew I was home. I knew that my futurebabymomma was going to be all fertilized up with my seed and bare the Ntimbanjayo linage. I had a feeling that family ties would bind just a little tighter, and it has.

• My mother and mother in-law consistently calls everydamnday
• Conversation with my sis every 90 days or so but talks to my other half all the time
• My brothers and I... Are brothers
• My health is optimal

I can count the years since I've been this content with the way things are in my life. It almost feels unreal. I wish everyone can get to this point in life and actually know that it exists. I feel like... Aw, eff it... TIME FOR A POEM!!!

Photosynthesis

Each breath that I take is triumph over my adversity

Once long ago I stammered and strained to keep my lungs full
and now a happy pain from over strain puts a wince on my face due to over breathing

isn't THAT something?

Every inhale is a minor accomplishment inside of a major movement.

The prime example of the intricacies that is the makeup of my singular existence and the example of how other organisms evolve from simple nothingness happens every time I strain for air

From molecules of moisture that battle and clash with each ounce of oxygen being drawn deep into cavernous flesh captured to fuel movement, feelings and cognitive thought mindlessly racing thru tubes of darkness enriching my bloodstream invoking silly little ditties that pass as thought invoking thought, never does the subtle act of this fraction of a second


or any other


occur in my mind that this process was created by the highest order enriching the lowest of the low free and equal to everyone and happening at the exact same moments

as mine...

So I let it go. I exhale.

Releasing particles and gaseous fractions of nothingness that bond with itself under the sun self-recycled, traveling at the speed of sound running smack dab into another organism just to fuel its tiny existence

Being absorbed and released
absorbed and released
absorbed and released
changing in its chemical makeup but enriching all that it touches all the same

And I, just a tiny speck of organic being needing just a tiny bit of blanket of this that surrounds and absorbs all that it touches gets just a little more of it in every count of this unequal rhythm we share but never acknowledge

You just breathed my air
I couldn't help but absorb what you expelled...


and you vice versa

I guess that means we're kindred.

I guess that means we function on the same parameters of all things in this omniverse.

Overstand?

I guess that means I'm free.
Just as you are...
And to think, yesterday I could not breathe

And now, as I always have I depend on your participation in the grand scheme of things


Yours depends on my reciprocation as well.



So is my happy the result of our human acts of photosynthesis... Or am I happy that I just get a little air?
written on the fly in this moment...
2008 Hassan Olumoroti Ntimbanjayo - Sho Nuff, Ya Dig?

Don't Ever Give Me Time To Think About A Blogpost...

I'm still around.

I'm taking time to get out of boxes, learning to share this massive space with my other half (you should have a child or a mid-sized pet if you have anything over 2000 square feet like we have), making a transition out of the truck (yeah, that's happening) and learning to ride a motorcycle (somewhat, gas mileage is better) with my time back in Chicago.

My other half works in the burbs so adjustment to the city and learning the commute is her current assignment. I think the shear size of both the city and the new digs (hence named the compound) are a little intimidating. There is also a concern about the neighborhood. I grew up in this area (we relocated to the Bronzeville area on the south side of Chicago... Look that up. History, y'all) and I know it well. I also cut my teeth as a poet and musician gigging in places that are long gone. Some are still here, but exist in a different aspect.

The area has a rich tradition of black history and it's currently being gentrified. There are tons of young, black professionals and upper crust blue-collar folk that have flocked here and the change is very visible for me. My wife can't see that right now because in most gentrified areas there is what I like to call 'the nigger element'. It's sad that some folks aren't able to hold on during a transition such as this. Folk try hard to hold on to the old-school values of the hustle that just doesn't work when higher priced real estate, shops and entertainment venues hit a neighborhood. Some folks don't want to give into growth and economic development and shun the change which means in a few months to years they'll be priced out of the neighborhood.

I hate that, but I welcome it as well in some aspects. I have faith in my people to adapt, adjust and make the necessary changes to prosper.

The grime and crime of the big city exists everywhere, I just get tired of pointing that out to my wife. We need time to adjust, me to her adjusting and her to adjust to big city life. It's not hard but I do realize and recognize that she ain't from these here parts and I have to be an ambassador. I was fine with my commute to the Pacific Northwest, but we made a decision to be closer. To each other, to family and to, well... The city.

So we're here.

And because of that, I have to remove myself from the road, but it's cool. After I hang a couple of TVs on the wall and make sure we're wired for the matrix things should be settled. We have 2 living rooms to decorate (upstairs and down) and between furniture stores big and small and with the help of a few items from Ikea we should be comfy in a few days. Well at least at home we'll be, but it starts from there, right? I just need time to let the city grow on my other half, so for the time being, I will be a guide. I'm good at guiding.

Plus I like concerts, shows, sporting events and dining out and Chicago has plenty of that.

Advantage, Hassan.

Oh, and further more... We're working on adding additional residents to the home. All in due time though. No cryptic message here, so stop that. One thing at a time, okay?


_________________________________________________________________

I would like to say for the record that one reason that I haven't blogged is because I am a member of Trinity United Church of Christ. Of course I hear the cries of cultism, racism, hate spewing and other isms. I refuse to address this because (get ready) this is utter bullshit.

After reading literally thousands of comments on blogs, watching Fox, CNN, MSNBC, the Posts (New York, Washington and the like), AJC, and the Chicago papers as well as other countless electronic media thingamajigs I see that folks still believe everything they see and hear and are fed by both the left and the right.

I will not defend Jeremiah Wright because he is a grown man and only speaks for himself and not others. I will not disown, disavow or separate myself from him not because he was my pastor, but because I agree 100 percent with the things he said. I will not urge anyone to either read transcripts or watch entire videos because all we need is a 30 second sound byte in order to get true understanding of what anyone says, right?

Never have I seen anyone get questioned for something someone else said under the guise of free speech and/or freedom of religion. I as a black man am tired as hell of having to explain myself to white folk (I said it) in order to be validated as whole when my ancestors built this country off of free labor and never profited from it. I'm tired of these Uncle Tom house negroes getting on TV polarizing things unnecessarily. Funny how certain folks can question someones minister and not even question theirs. Or others.

From what I read and heard, we have a long way to go in race relations. A lot of non-black folk think that black folk are naturally inferior and that non-black folk have to set programs and regulate black folk's behavior in order for us to prosper. A lot of non-black folk think that ALL of our jobs and positions come via affirmative action and are angry that it gives us an advantage. A lot of non-black folk still think that we are a savage people and that they had to give us their god (Jesus included) in order to save us from our own destruction because we know no better.

A lot of non-black folk feel that we have to give up all that is our lineage and disavow Africa in order to not be threatened as Americans. A lot of non-black folk are afraid of Islam, even though Israel and Ismail makes them cousins, Jesus himself was a Jew and Christianity was established more than 400 years after Christ left Earth, whereas the descendants of the house of Ismail were already here reading the Qur'an. A lot of non-black folk that recently came to America in the last 100 years claim ignorance to slavery and wonder why we get angry over being made whole via transaction for all of that free labor when companies like JP Morgan/Chase only exist because of the bankable gazillions made over the years off of the backs of the slave and the Jim Crow regulated black person and they either blend right in or are accepted and can assume the old formulas of gaining wealth when it is hard to get the same deal for folks that have been here, struggling.


A lot of non-black folk think that we support and fund terrorism and never give thought to black folk being terrorized for 500 years via kidnapping, slavery, the KKK and other supremacist groups, Jim Crow, benign neglect, lack of funding of the school systems, separate but unequal, welfare and welfare reform, human control such as the Tuskegee Experiment, change of diet to European standards that cause Diabetes, cancers and the like, the imbalance of the criminal justice system and racial profiling, the theft of labor, music (such as Jazz and Hip Hop) and literature of folks of African descent, the banning of travel and trade to African nations, the support of Apartheid, giving reparations to folks of Jewish, Japanese and Vietnamese descent, the assassinations of King, El Shabazz, Evers, Newton, Hampton Jr. and so on, and building wealth through slave labor and passing it down to non-black families, fraternal orders and friends via stocks, corporations and trust funds as well as teaching hate, separatism and the general belief that we are an inferior people.

And I don't have a right to be hostile?

Black folk never brought up race... But some folks continue to do so.

How in the hell can someone kidnap us, expect us to grow up as a people in inferior conditions and then get mad at us because we're still here? How can white folks (not all, some) get angry and afraid when we speak of race and the issues we have being who we are? With all that America has done to the world via terrorism wouldn't it be expected that that hate be returned? That's why black folks weren't afraid after September 11th.

We are used to being terrorized!!!

If your family didn't own slaves... Rape and beat them... Give them inferior conditions to live and grow. Sell them off when their families expanded. Take advantage financially of slave labor and cheap labor of free black folk's labor... There is still guilt because those families still prospered in a society where it was law to do so. If our people didn't have a voice due to being chattel and not voting citizens how could we have benefited? The government was allowed to buy, sell and trade our ancestors as well and gained financially off of this. The government regulated the law and after abolishment changed laws only to have us still not be heard and relegated us to the back of the bus and so on. So the homes, cars and trust funds... The college educations, union positions and patronage on the job... The standards and practices that brought affirmative action to the workplace was all the advantage your folks had over us.

We can run in the race now but how can we win when non-black folks had the biggest head start known to man?

Today we no longer ask, we get in where we fit in, but that is still a hard thing to do when non-black folk are still eating off the backs of long dead slaves and we cannot get a crumb. So we make stuff up as we go along (like Jazz, Rock and Roll and Hip Hop) and excel at stuff that wasn't designed for us. We create influence through out style, rhythm and flair and try to hold onto it as long as we can, but things like the court systems and community policing skews our trust in the system. The lack of African-American history in mainstream American schools limits the minds of non-black folk and there is disbelief and mistrust (see: Barack Obama) in our capabilities. Patronage still exists. The non-black mindset is still being taught in rural America which means only one thing...

These things have had an effect and currently affect our people mentally, physically, spiritually, economically and obviously socially which means we need to talk... Post haste. We can help you understand. I am not afraid or guilty to talk about it, and neither should non-black America.

This cannot and will not be swept under the rug.

Ntimbanjayo Family Roadtrip Update:

Leg One - Friday Afternoon

Leg one of the Ntimbanjayo family road trip finds me at the airport, patiently waiting to get the hell out of the ignorant, shiftless, lazy-ass employee zone.

I swear I could smack the HR guy or gal who hires these folks.

ME: "Can I bring this unopened bottle of water and fruit cups thru the gate?"

THEY: (not looking in the bag or making eye contact) "No liquids past this point, if it's liquid, you can't get through here"

I guess if she would have looked in the bag and actually heard me...

Never mind. San Francisco is up next, and then I get on a plane so small I might get to fly it into Oregon. After my microbrews.

Oh, and don't think I'm sleeping on the goings on inside the Matrix...

Michigan and Florida actually disenfranchised voters a year ago...

Oh, and speaking of Michigan, did Kwame say 'nigger' at the State Of The D?

It's not that Hil is racist, I think not. A lot of folk believe that Barack is a phenomenon. The whole thing is a fluke to have made it this far. No one planned past super Tuesday, that's all. I don't think Geraldine meant any harm it's just some folk think that certain people will vote Democrat regardless of what that party had not done or who represents it.

They really think that this is a case study of a person of color making an impact by enunciating and actually generating interest via a viable platform. Like Shirley, Brother Gregory, Jesse and Rev. Al didn't have one regardless of personality. Some folks just can't believe that a brother can get that far... So this is the response.


Oh snap, time to board.

So far, no one is dead yet. I hope it stays that way. Once we get in the car, that is.

SEACREST, OUT

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LEG TWO : Saturday Morning

Finds us leaving Sacramento headed east on I-80 to Reno.

We got bigger hitch put on the truck, got the trailer hooked onto it and packed the whole house with the help of a moving company and filled said trailer all in about 3 and a half hours. We hot the road around 9:30 pm Central time and drug the trailer very slowly up and down I-5 thru great elevations, unhappy truck drivers and snow.

Someone was initially freaked out but I'e done this run in my rig before from Vancouver to Ontario California a few times so things were cool. We got from southern Oregon to Sac-town in under 5 hours and since I wasn't supposed to drive this leg but ended up doing it we took refuge in a name-brand hotel (never doing that again, trust me, next time we stay at the Bates Motel... at damn near a hundred bux? Sheeeeeyit. Gotta keep it cheap mane) and I got some much needed sleep.

Now comes the scenic route... CA to NV to the Sierra Nevadas into Salt Lake City. Old stomping grounds and lunch with an old friend and the kids.

So far, good times and good memories to boot.

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UPDATE - Wednesday, 3/11

We made it.

After driving to Sacramento to avoid storms and still getting caught in mountain based, foggy snow snafus... Seeing Reno and salivating all up and thru Lake Tahoe... driving thru Donner's Pass (elevation 8000+ feet) and seeing the clouds meet the mountains while driving over the Continental Divide (elevation OVER 10,000 feet)... Stopping in Salt Lake City and introducing my wife to old friends (we crashed at her spot, good looking out Jodi), laughing thru Cheyenne Wyoming and getting stuck for seven hours on 3 inches of ice on an entrance ramp (I did get good sleep while waiting for emergency services... Finding out that certain truck stops in Nebraska serve good non-Mexican made tacos and folks in Iowa drink plenty of green beer for St Paddy's... Introducing my wife to the world's largest truck stop and rolling thru Chicago morning traffic we made it to find out that the keys to our duplex didn't work. The place has three bathrooms and I was holding my pee all the way from friggin' Joliet...

Luckily we called our agent and he was on the scene in less than ten minutes.

I opened the doors, met the movers as they came to unpack our stuff and took my driving ass to bed.

2409 miles in 55 hours. 7 hours of sleep total. My wife didn't even have to touch the steering wheel. The truck could only tow 1000 pounds, the trailer and hitch with our stuff weighed over 2000. I slept most of the day yesterday. My boss wouldn't let me work.

I woke up yesterday afternoon to the news that I have a NEW truck.

The catch... I gotta drive to Olive Branch, Mississippi to get it.

That's why I got an extra day off... I get it now. So I'm back on the road. Chicago to Mississippi in under 8 hours today.

I am a driving ass.

I'm Building Me A Home... Never Mind, We Paid For It

Peace and blessings fam...


Yep, I've been busy working long hours in shorter timeframes in order to take a few days for my other half and I to embark on our third travel adventure. I'm calling this one:

The Ntimbanjayo Family Road Trip - Volume One

That's right shawty... We're driving 2500-plus miles from southern Oregon to the Chi..

We got a home here so it's time to travel east and settle this house.


Have a great weekend and pray for safety. Pics and video to come when we get home.

Don't Be A Sucker... Sucker!

You're being duped.

You'll be disappointed soon.

Time to leave all of those with personal interests alone and just go out on your own.

It has to happen.

Stop living a lie.

Fighting The Urge... Living The Fight

I don't think I made that last post to make people feel for me or to testify, I was having what I like to call a writing flashback. In my mind, I was comparing then to now.

For me right now, now really feels like then.

I remember how things felt as I was at the cusp of change. I had seasoned myself with those habits I described and even though I knew some of them would take more than others so I pushed on.

In that inception of my life I let bad habit and me falling into the status quo point me in a direction I had problems turning out of. Things feel the same now and I have a strong urge to drink but I haven't and don't plan to.

I look at my wife and look at our moves, stand back and look at the incredible responsibility I have every time I drive eighty thousand pounds and I'm baffled at how numb I am at just doing things. In the past few years I've transformed myself from a single, cubicle dwelling employee living in an oversized suburban condo to whatever I am now. I gave up the condo, sold my just bought car and gave away all of my belongings to go to Utah. When I got there all I had was an army duffel bag full of stuff, a few thousand dollars that I paid to go to trucking school and three people that I spoke to daily to keep me grounded and focused.

In a few months I was driving a truck and actually leased one of those large machines and was driving cross country until I got injured. My lease ended and I went back to Chicago.

Just like that, I was back at square one but things were different. I had no money, no place to stay and no job. It took my sister and brother, my cousin, my ex and a few new found friends to help get me back on track and in that time I hadn't taken a drink to help numb the pain until I got to Houston. The last month and a half there last year found me drinking the equivalent of a six pack a day to numb what I felt was a dire situation for me.

I went to Houston with good intentions and felt like I was duped by those who were helping me. Communication was bad and I had put my tail between my legs and ended back in cubicle land. It was expected of me to do this even though I wanted to get back out on the road and be free. I wanted to be my own boss again. Having that taste of living on my own terms was too much like right and I made bad decisions in where I landed after my injuries and trusted the wrong people so I corrected that, got free and ended up in Chicago once again.

The one person I thought I'd never get a chance to hold court with I married Christmas eve last year. We have known each other since 2005 and I continued to go places and chose to be with people that would have the two of us in different places. I've always known it would be a whole lot to handle fs we were to ever get our lives synced so I never had the idea to pursue her until I got to Chicago last summer. She was one of the folks I kept in contact with as a close friend but I never thought it would be her I would be planning a family with.

But I am.

And knowing of the whole that makes who she is and what she wants... Knowing her plans and dreams and knowing she's planning her life around me makes me feel like I'm cheating her sometimes. I don't know if what I'll do will ever be enough for her and that puts me in a place emotionally i've never been.

I believe if I wasn't responsible for that hundred thousand dollar piece of machinery I'm looking at parked outside my window...

If I didn't care about the folks I drive around all day every day...

If I didn't love to be in the presence of my other half...

If my pay was similar to what I used to earn back in the day...

If I didn't have this opportunity to be my own boss, setting my own hours to have the time to spend with myself out there under just the sun and clouds working on mastering my mind and spirit...

If we weren't planning a family and the ones I call friend didn't give a damn to check in every now and then...

I would be drinking again in heavy quantities. There are times that I wish that I could ingest just enough alcohol to make the pain of progress and the lack of understanding my emotions and the scope of things to come just go away. There are times that I wish I was just numb and non-existent. I would probably add some sort of narcotic to it so I could not be myself. I've opened myself up to so many that have taken advantage in so many situations that required me to be beyond who I am and exposed myself to a few that had ulterior motives just to take a piece of my soul that in some instances when I needed to dig a little deeper and pull a piece of me out to blanket a life situation I thought I can handle it either wasn't there or it was damaged to the point where I had to fake it in order to make it which damaged me ever more.

It's hard to try to cover life situations being damaged goods but there is literally no place to run.

I cannot tell you how I continue to move forward, so I look back to tell myself. It's just sometimes I give y'all a glimpse of who Hassan was before he was Hassan by blogging about it. It hasn't been pretty. I guess me wanting to have a better life and live out the entire story outweighs my desire to be drunk. I'm glad of that. If I were to give in to those urges I wouldn't have anything, and that is one option I absolutely cannot have.