I was on my way home for lunch today and I popped in an old Kanye West cd to entertain me all of the 3 minutes it takes me to get home from work. As I listened to Kanye and his hip-hop-styled bravado, I couldn't help but think when he would be next. For some odd reason, America loves a rising star just as much as she loves a falling one and it will only be a matter of time before Mr. West is no longer on the giving end of the media's attention and is transferred to the receiving end. Practically every media darling, at some point, ends up a media disaster. Poor Britney Spears, if she sneezes more than twice it makes the news.
Black celebrities have been on the receiving end a lot lately. From Michael Vick to T.I.;Michael Jackson to Oprah Winfrey, the attacks seem endless. My hope is, all of these artist and celebrities have built up a war chest to help them through tough times. There's a line in one of Kanye's old songs where he talks about going to Jacob the Jeweler as soon as he got his first advance because he wanted to shine. I can understand wanting to spoil yourself when you get a little money-hell, even I like to reward myself when I get paid, but my hope is that the allure of the fancy cars, houses, and jewelry does not trump the need to protect yourself when the invaders hit your beach front. And make no mistake, they're coming. The object of the game should not be just to get rich but to remain rich. And to do so, one must have a war chest-funds socked away to get you through a full frontal assault, regardless of where it comes from. And I have to reiterate, it will come. Dionne Warwick, Wesley Snipes, Mike Tyson, Sean Combs, all have had their turn in the hot seat. All of them have racked up attorney fees that dwarf what most of us earn in a lifetime.
This country loves a good scandal-because secretly I think most of its citizens are envious of the success of others. It's the crab in the bucket mentality. We love to hear the worst there is to know about the private lives of celebrities. The raunchier, the better. There's no question that some of these idiots deserve the negative attention, but most are just caught up in tabloid journalism that could not exist if Britney Spears wasn't improperly raised as a child-or if Mike Tyson would take his medication regularly. These rags are like a monster with an insatiable appetite who won't leave Tokyo alone. And our need to see someone tumble from an imaginary pedestal fuels the fire.
Suffice it to say that the only solution is that consumers stem their desire for such nonsense, but they don't call them consumers for nothing. They aren't thinkers, they aren't producers or doers, they're consumers-mindless gluttons who will devour anything placed before them-and we've all been there at one point in time (most of us are still there). But this post was not supposed to be an indictment on the media, it was supposed to be about the necessity to protect yourself when you are on the receiving end of a negative media campaign that may surround a law suit or criminal charges. Anyone around a celebrity who is worth anything would strongly advise that individual of the need to build a handsome war chest so that when the animals attack, like the spinning records of a top-shelf DJ, you life doesn't skip a beat.
TPOKW?
Monday, October 29, 2007
Sunday, October 28, 2007
The Man I Am
Probably one of the most elusive definitions known in modern times is the definition of man. Sure, we can define him anatomically, but what is the true essence of today's modern man? That question might be a difficult one to answer in a broad sense-and even if someone were able to successfully answer it, I'm not all together sure they would be able to describe me to my satisfaction so I will attempt to describe man as he pertains to me. Afterwards, if anyone would like to add or subtract to my definition as it pertains to them, this is an open forum-feel free to do so.
As a man, I believe and subscribe to the mantra first do no harm. I believe the definition lies within the statement, but I'll elaborate for the purpose of clarity. I believe that I have no right to harm those who have not tried to harm me. I have no right to disturb, alter, or negatively influence in anyway, the innocent. That includes members of the human family and animals. It encompasses organizations and entities that I am a member of, or affiliated with, in any way shape or fashion. Churches (which I wouldn't be caught dead in-wait, I might want to rethink that), places of employment, political institutions, all fall into this category. However, if at any time in the span of history, you've attempted to harm me in anyway, I reserve the right to destroy you, your associates, or any one linked to you. That is not to say that I will exercise that right, but once you've harmed or attempted to harm me, you've opened a door that you cannot close. My demise will not close that door-my offspring will carry my sentiment to their graves.
As a man, I believe that love is the ultimate in civility and humanity. The love that I have for my child is no different than the love I have for my mate. The boundaries of our interactions may differ, but the love is the same. It is the same love that I have for all of humanity and I choose to express it freely. Universal love is what we all should strive to achieve. But love also has a dark side. I love humanity so much that I would take the life of my own child should that child be a threat to humanity. I have no right to bring forth a seed and sacrifice all of humanity to spare one spoiled seed. It's is my duty to the world to protect it from threats-no matter where they emanate from. Harsh? Perhaps. Necessary? Above all things, yes.
The greatest joy I as a man can ever know is the joy of knowing I've pleased my woman. And if that pleasure is reciprocal, a cycle begins that only death can put an end to. As a man, the love of a good woman is above all things. Her protection and safety I take serious and will never abandon my responsibility-even if it costs me my life.
As a man, I am the protector of my family and my community, for they support me and comfort me in ways no other can. Drugs, alcohol, lust, nor avarice can separate me from that which has the ability to fulfill me completely.
Of course there is plenty more, and I won't attempt to bore you with the details. Sadly, we live in a world where the values I've mentioned have been completely lost amongst the masses. But imagine what a beautiful world this would be if only we could find our way back to these beliefs.
TPOKW
As a man, I believe and subscribe to the mantra first do no harm. I believe the definition lies within the statement, but I'll elaborate for the purpose of clarity. I believe that I have no right to harm those who have not tried to harm me. I have no right to disturb, alter, or negatively influence in anyway, the innocent. That includes members of the human family and animals. It encompasses organizations and entities that I am a member of, or affiliated with, in any way shape or fashion. Churches (which I wouldn't be caught dead in-wait, I might want to rethink that), places of employment, political institutions, all fall into this category. However, if at any time in the span of history, you've attempted to harm me in anyway, I reserve the right to destroy you, your associates, or any one linked to you. That is not to say that I will exercise that right, but once you've harmed or attempted to harm me, you've opened a door that you cannot close. My demise will not close that door-my offspring will carry my sentiment to their graves.
As a man, I believe that love is the ultimate in civility and humanity. The love that I have for my child is no different than the love I have for my mate. The boundaries of our interactions may differ, but the love is the same. It is the same love that I have for all of humanity and I choose to express it freely. Universal love is what we all should strive to achieve. But love also has a dark side. I love humanity so much that I would take the life of my own child should that child be a threat to humanity. I have no right to bring forth a seed and sacrifice all of humanity to spare one spoiled seed. It's is my duty to the world to protect it from threats-no matter where they emanate from. Harsh? Perhaps. Necessary? Above all things, yes.
The greatest joy I as a man can ever know is the joy of knowing I've pleased my woman. And if that pleasure is reciprocal, a cycle begins that only death can put an end to. As a man, the love of a good woman is above all things. Her protection and safety I take serious and will never abandon my responsibility-even if it costs me my life.
As a man, I am the protector of my family and my community, for they support me and comfort me in ways no other can. Drugs, alcohol, lust, nor avarice can separate me from that which has the ability to fulfill me completely.
Of course there is plenty more, and I won't attempt to bore you with the details. Sadly, we live in a world where the values I've mentioned have been completely lost amongst the masses. But imagine what a beautiful world this would be if only we could find our way back to these beliefs.
TPOKW
Friday, October 26, 2007
Alone
My middle daughter, who is now at the beautiful age of 16, has always shown concern for my pension for ending up alone. As far back as I can remember, whenever I announced that I was no longer with one of my temporary mates, she expressed fear because I would be alone. I would always smile to myself, not fully understanding what there was to be afraid of. Well, once again, I find myself alone. Alone is a lonely word, and it conjures up images in our mind of despair and sadness, but I find being alone a solemn undertaking. How else can one be completely alone with your inner-most thoughts? I don't fear being alone. I can't say that I like it much, but being alone makes you appreciate people and I think that we could all benefit from the rediscovery of the beauty of one another.
I remember when I first moved into this apartment-I found myself quite lonely. I was used to the sounds of children playing; a television or radio blaring loudly off in the distance; a casual telephone conversation that didn't involve me, but became the part of an auditory fabric that I'd normalized and grown accustomed to. But here, there was only silence. No television, (I found the sound annoying in this vacuum), no children playing, no other voice but my own, and I was so afraid to hear what I might say to myself-so there was only silence. Sometimes silence can be deafening and your desire to silence the silence becomes great. But we all know that the mere notion of silencing silence borders on insanity, so we remain quiet and find ways to cope. I found ways. They weren't always the same-they varied. Sometimes I would just sit in a chair, staring out the window, and allow the silence to consume me. I struggled against my urge to make it go away. I wanted to become acquainted with it in a friendly manner. But silence is neutral and it does not care whether you appreciate it or not-silence just is. In fact, silence wouldn't know how to interpret your appreciation or your disdain-it simply does not know to care. So what does my opinion matter? It doesn't. The only thing one can do is become one with silence-a synergy that strips you of your desire to break it's hold on all things audible. You simply surrender and then it becomes the auditory fabric that you become accustomed to.
What I miss most being alone, is the warmth and comfort of the human touch. It's not that I couldn't force myself into physical contact with others, it's just that I want to it to emanate from a natural place and not from a place of desperation. I want to be at one with my environmental silence and not fight it by forming unnatural alliances with those whom I might detest, but fear being away from. The paralysis of my analytical mind has always afflicted me.
Still, I sometimes long for my bed not to be empty; for that casual touch at those most unpredictable moments in the middle of night that reassures me that I am alive, and loved, and capable of loving. The absence of human touch can sometimes be torture and the longing for relief constant. Still, I somehow manage to find comfort in it all. Or perhaps that is what I tell myself so that the bleakness of my situation isn't so daunting. Who knows. We do whatever it takes to survive.One thing that I know for certain is I've developed a special appreciation for the human connection. Being alone heightens my senses and makes the slightest connection feel so alive and real. Holding someones hand sets off waves of emotions that remind me of my teenage years. I've become so hypersensitive to the human connection that the mere thought of sexual contact becomes completely overwhelming, and the journey back to that level of connection becomes a slow and methodical process. Why hurry? The journey alone is so exhilarating. There's truly something to be said about depriving one's self from the complete and utter satiation of your every desire. Spending too much time in that realm can quickly become mundane and the only true remedy is deprivation. But so many of us believe the answer lies within satiating ones appetite even more, which explains why so many of us suffer from obesity or die from overdosing on drugs.
I must admit I have a profound fear of being controlled by those desires and the need to satiate them continually. I fear losing myself in the midst of addiction never being able to find my way back to the person I once was. It's not so much a fear of change, but a fear of what I may change in to. I think that was why, for many year, I could not smoke marijuana. The idea of wanting to be in an altered state of consciousness all the time was frightening. Once I convinced myself that infrequent trips to that altered place wasn't so bad, indulging from time to time became an accepted practice for me. Although I don't do it often as I once did, I allow myself the freedom to do so.
Alone and lonely seem like such close companions, but I believe I've found a way to be one and not be totally consumed by the other. Alone describes my physical state-lonely would describe my emotional. Could one exist without the other? Quite possibly. There are those, like myself, who can be alone and not experience loneliness just as there are those who can be amongst a crowd of people and be lonely. In fact, I've found it quite easy to be amongst a crowd or group of people and feel lonelier than I've ever felt in my life.
I know that human contact is necessary and that I thrive in every way imagineable when I know that the comfort of another is there for me. But I also know the feeling of powerlessness that consumes you when you crave that comfort and are denied it. Sometimes that's worse than having never experienced it at all. I don't worry so much that I'll never feel or experience it again. I think I worry that one day it won't matter to me whether it's there or not, and I will find comfort only in my isolation. That, to me, would be a fate far worse than the dismal feelings of loneliness that keeps me company from time to time, letting me know that, although temporary, the slightest touch from a comforting hand can erase months of loneliness in the blink of an eye. I guess hope springs eternal.
TPOKW
Monday, October 15, 2007
So I was talking to a friend...
The other night I went out with a friend whom I have a special interest in. We were at a bar having drinks and during the conversation she made a statement that harkened me back to an old relationship that I had that was not a pleasant one. During our conversation, my friend said, "A guy is a guy is a guy" and to this moment I am still seething over that statement. A while ago I dated a woman who used to like to hit me...hard, in what she claimed was a playful manner. Whenever I commented on the inflicted pain, she would say, That didn't hurt, guys don't hurt like women." Needless to say, that mode of thinking transcended the physical. She thought that being unfaithful wouldn't hurt either.
I guess I have a problem with people who assume that you aren't as human as they are. And when this mentality emanates from someone I'm interested in, it gives me great pause. It's as if she was saying to me, You see, women are diverse, with character and depth, and men are just dolphins minus the dorsal fin." Sometimes you get a glimpse into someones mind without them actually knowing that they are so exposed and one should take heed. The statement was made so emphatically, and then dismissed so casually, I have to catalogue it in the same genre as racist statements. In fact it was quite sexist of her to say such a thing.
Perhaps I'm being sensitive....so fucking what. As well I should be-the people that adhere to early warning systems are never the ones being rescued during floods, tornadoes, or hurricanes. And this, my friends, was an early warning. I can only imagine what may come next. It's as though guys are meant to be toyed with. I have to admit that I am extremely angry over the statement. And when I brought it up again, she said, "Oh, that was so yesterday." Where do these fucking humans come from? You all know that I've had an axe to grind with black women in the past, but I don't think I've ever dealt with one and didn't take into consideration her individuality. In fact, after having so many problems with women, I still gave every one I met thereafter the benefit of the doubt. I didn't lump them into this category whereby they all were lying, deceitful, ingrates-I reserved those titles for those who truly earned them.
I think I was wrong about this person. In the past I might have just dismissed the statement and said, "Oh, that's just her opinion." And how foolish I would have been. Who elses opinion will she consider when she decides that I'm not as human as she, therefore I am open to all sorts of violations and abuse? Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining, I'm merely attempting to protect myself. I never thought my own wife would steal $5400 from me either. But somewhere in the recesses of her mind she gave herself permission to do that to me. Was it because I was male and less than human? Was it because I'm black and she wasn't? Or was it because only a fool would trust another person with access to their funds-wife or not? I have no idea what the reason was, but one thing I do know is I'm out of $5400.
Do I sound like a crying little girl? I hope so because I want you to consider the alternative-your ass in a fucking burkha. Either men complain about it, and some women (guilty parties only) see the error of their ways and decide that they have been insensitive to the needs of men, and have relegated them to a less than human status-or we agree to resolve our difference with tests of strength and see what the outcome will be. Make no mistake-I was born an alpha-male and will die one. Make no mistake-I understand where my strength lies and have no problem exercising it. It always reminds me of a statement someone I once loved dearly made to me. We were arguing over her transgressions in our failed relationship and after I made point after point where she'd failed us miserably, she summed it all up by saying, "Well if you knew I was going to do all of that, why did you let me." I beg you all, please, reread that last sentence, like about 10 times. Really! What I got out of the statement, immediately and without hesitation was, I'll give myself permission to do what ever I choose, but I will not take responsibility for my actions-that's the man's job. Why did you let me? Did she just ask me to put her ass in a burkha?
I don't know if I'll ever let that a guy is a guy is a guy statement die-it will forever be etched in my frontal lobe. And I think that I'll never be able to look at this person without knowing that she sees me as a cardboard cutout. What's so sad about it all is that the average male on the face of the earth will risk life and limb to protect his woman and his family. In fact, whenever we are with women, we are at risk of losing our lives. If ever a burglar breaks into our home, we are expected by all parties involved to face that danger in order to protect our loved ones. Let a man be the only survivor in an in-home invasion and watch how not only society vilifies him, but how he will probably torment himself to the point of suicide. Failure means the acceptance of death-and most real men know this and will readily face that danger, without hesitation.
What's left when the ones we desire to honor, serve, and protect, turn their backs on us? The decline of civilization.
TPOKW?
I guess I have a problem with people who assume that you aren't as human as they are. And when this mentality emanates from someone I'm interested in, it gives me great pause. It's as if she was saying to me, You see, women are diverse, with character and depth, and men are just dolphins minus the dorsal fin." Sometimes you get a glimpse into someones mind without them actually knowing that they are so exposed and one should take heed. The statement was made so emphatically, and then dismissed so casually, I have to catalogue it in the same genre as racist statements. In fact it was quite sexist of her to say such a thing.
Perhaps I'm being sensitive....so fucking what. As well I should be-the people that adhere to early warning systems are never the ones being rescued during floods, tornadoes, or hurricanes. And this, my friends, was an early warning. I can only imagine what may come next. It's as though guys are meant to be toyed with. I have to admit that I am extremely angry over the statement. And when I brought it up again, she said, "Oh, that was so yesterday." Where do these fucking humans come from? You all know that I've had an axe to grind with black women in the past, but I don't think I've ever dealt with one and didn't take into consideration her individuality. In fact, after having so many problems with women, I still gave every one I met thereafter the benefit of the doubt. I didn't lump them into this category whereby they all were lying, deceitful, ingrates-I reserved those titles for those who truly earned them.
I think I was wrong about this person. In the past I might have just dismissed the statement and said, "Oh, that's just her opinion." And how foolish I would have been. Who elses opinion will she consider when she decides that I'm not as human as she, therefore I am open to all sorts of violations and abuse? Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining, I'm merely attempting to protect myself. I never thought my own wife would steal $5400 from me either. But somewhere in the recesses of her mind she gave herself permission to do that to me. Was it because I was male and less than human? Was it because I'm black and she wasn't? Or was it because only a fool would trust another person with access to their funds-wife or not? I have no idea what the reason was, but one thing I do know is I'm out of $5400.
Do I sound like a crying little girl? I hope so because I want you to consider the alternative-your ass in a fucking burkha. Either men complain about it, and some women (guilty parties only) see the error of their ways and decide that they have been insensitive to the needs of men, and have relegated them to a less than human status-or we agree to resolve our difference with tests of strength and see what the outcome will be. Make no mistake-I was born an alpha-male and will die one. Make no mistake-I understand where my strength lies and have no problem exercising it. It always reminds me of a statement someone I once loved dearly made to me. We were arguing over her transgressions in our failed relationship and after I made point after point where she'd failed us miserably, she summed it all up by saying, "Well if you knew I was going to do all of that, why did you let me." I beg you all, please, reread that last sentence, like about 10 times. Really! What I got out of the statement, immediately and without hesitation was, I'll give myself permission to do what ever I choose, but I will not take responsibility for my actions-that's the man's job. Why did you let me? Did she just ask me to put her ass in a burkha?
I don't know if I'll ever let that a guy is a guy is a guy statement die-it will forever be etched in my frontal lobe. And I think that I'll never be able to look at this person without knowing that she sees me as a cardboard cutout. What's so sad about it all is that the average male on the face of the earth will risk life and limb to protect his woman and his family. In fact, whenever we are with women, we are at risk of losing our lives. If ever a burglar breaks into our home, we are expected by all parties involved to face that danger in order to protect our loved ones. Let a man be the only survivor in an in-home invasion and watch how not only society vilifies him, but how he will probably torment himself to the point of suicide. Failure means the acceptance of death-and most real men know this and will readily face that danger, without hesitation.
What's left when the ones we desire to honor, serve, and protect, turn their backs on us? The decline of civilization.
TPOKW?
Sunday, October 14, 2007
The Prince is Depressed
Every now and then I go through bouts of depression. Nothing serious, just enough to make me close the blinds and not want to go outside. I'm not sure what triggers it, but perhaps this time it's because my lap top crashed AGAIN! This is the 4th time in like a year and 3 months. I've replaced 4 hard drives and it is beginning to really annoy me. Fortunately they are under warranty, but I hate opening that lap top case, all the parts are so delicate and there's a level of stress that accompanies the activity that I don't particularly care for.
Anyway, I didn't go outside all day today. I closed the blinds and just relaxed the best I could. I wish it rained today, believe it or not it helps me when I get depressed. Don't get me wrong, I'm usually at my center 95% of the time. But I was on a natural high yesterday and I usually crash pretty hard when I allow myself to experience that level of joy. That's one of the reasons I like to remain centered.
The last time I had a serious bout of depression was in 1995. It lasted about 2 weeks and I couldn't figure out what the hell was wrong with me. I would be at work and all of a sudden I would have to rush to the restroom so no one would see me crying like a baby. It ranked amongst the worse 2 weeks of my life. It was weird, I would cry all the way to work and all the way home. And just like a man, I REFUSED to seek help. Eventually it passed. This time isn't nearly that serious. I just think the lap top situation brought me down.
I wrote a new song, but I don't feel like it's any good. I was really amped about it at first, but now I'm not really feeling it. I laid the vocal track today and when I started doing the backing vocals I lost all interest. I couldn't find the harmonies and the depression thing made me give up and go lay down and take a nap. I didn't sleep too well but at least I felt rested when I awoke.
My focus lately has been to improve my guitar skills and I'm beginning to break new ground. It's always nice when the time invested yields positive results. I'm probably a little down because I haven't exercised in weeks. I haven't ran in about a week-just been to damned busy. I think I need a break. I turned my phone off today. I needed complete isolation until I can get my head back to where it needs to be. I didn't want anyone affecting my mood. I know that I'm carrying way too much on my shoulders right now but it's nice when I complete all task effectively. I really enjoy the rest afterwards.
I've decided to join 24 hour fitness again. There's one right up the street from me and I can run to it, exercise, and then finish my run on my way home. I used to do that when I lived in my old place. I know I need to invest more time in my exercise regiment. And as soon as December arrives, I'm clearing my schedule completely. I don't want to have any new projects following me into the New Year. I want a clean slate.
I really want to move outside of the U.S. for a while. I don't know where, but I need a break from this place. I need to go back to Spain or somewhere no one knows me. When I was there (a long time ago), I could go out and be amongst the people and still feel that much needed isolation. It was as though I wasn't even there. People would greet me, but I could lose myself in public. Something I have a difficult time doing here in the good ole' US of A. Being black, you stick out like a sore thumb here and you're always aware of the fact that you're black. In Spain those pressures just didn't exist. I'm not saying there wasn't racism, but there was more hatred for Caucasian Americans in Spain than there was for black ones. In fact, I was accepted amongst the Spaniards I chose to deal with because I knew enough of the language to communicate. I loved the vibe. I hated the 4 distinct seasons-they have real winters there. And when I arrived with my California gear in November, I was in for a shocker. I froze my ass off until I was able to transition my wardrobe to something more appropriate for the climate.
As you can probably tell, I'm just rambling about because I don't have much I want to put into my blog. I have plenty to talk about, but Lulu's get's the dirt now so I don't have to put it on my blog-thanks Lulu, bill my insurance for the psychiatric sessions. I can't say that they are working but it does feel good to get it off my chest. It's always nice to get the opinion of an objective female from the other side of the globe. She tells it like it is!
It's weird, all of a sudden I've gotten really private as of late. I don't know what it is. One minute I'm writing about EVERYTHING, the next I don't want to write anything about my personal life. I think it's because my emotions are being pulled apart since I met a new female. I don't want to talk about it. I've said too much already. I know that I'm still dealing the residual nonsense from my marriage and I haven't quite faced it all head on. I think I've been avoiding dealing with it. I'm hoping that it will take care of itself, but I know better than that. I don't even think often about my soon-to-be ex wife. And I know that I'm trying to bury the whole thing without dealing with it. You don't live with someone 6 years and then have no emotional anything for that person once their gone. I don't know where and I don't know when, but eventually I'm going to come face to face with it all. I'm too emotionally aware for this not to have affected me in some way or the other. I'm just skillfully suppressing it now. Or, maybe it's just that the marriage had been over for a minimum of 3 years before we actually separated and maybe I have dealt with it in my own way. I don't know, I'm just living day to day and not really focusing on it. I have too many other things I need to deal with.
She called the other night to tell me that she was in school. I was really happy to hear that. I wish her the best. I have absolutely no ill feelings toward her-in fact I still have love for her. Not the type of love that could sustain another waking moment with her, but the type that you'd have for someone you were once really close to but have moved on. I simply can't hold anything against her, no matter how much I would like to try. My mother on the other hand, can and does hold something against her. Harming someone's child has that affect on people. There are girls that my son dated that I'd like to see burned at the stake, but I know that he's forgiven them. Once you harm someone's children, you're permanently cast in the shadow of negativity.
Well I think I will try to get some sleep. Hopefully I'll feel better in the morning. It might be all of this sunshine that's depressing me. I need it to rain. I love the rain, it depresses me so beautifully. It puts me in that melancholy mood that makes the slightest positive thought seem so beautiful. Rain reminds me of being purified. It grants me permission to release all negativity. I can sit back and watch it pass as I just let it all go. I also like the way the earth smells after a good rain. It feels like it's morning all day long (morning dew also gives the earth that smell as well-even though it isn't as strong). I guess that's why I like the morning.
The Prince is officially of the air.
TPOKW?
Anyway, I didn't go outside all day today. I closed the blinds and just relaxed the best I could. I wish it rained today, believe it or not it helps me when I get depressed. Don't get me wrong, I'm usually at my center 95% of the time. But I was on a natural high yesterday and I usually crash pretty hard when I allow myself to experience that level of joy. That's one of the reasons I like to remain centered.
The last time I had a serious bout of depression was in 1995. It lasted about 2 weeks and I couldn't figure out what the hell was wrong with me. I would be at work and all of a sudden I would have to rush to the restroom so no one would see me crying like a baby. It ranked amongst the worse 2 weeks of my life. It was weird, I would cry all the way to work and all the way home. And just like a man, I REFUSED to seek help. Eventually it passed. This time isn't nearly that serious. I just think the lap top situation brought me down.
I wrote a new song, but I don't feel like it's any good. I was really amped about it at first, but now I'm not really feeling it. I laid the vocal track today and when I started doing the backing vocals I lost all interest. I couldn't find the harmonies and the depression thing made me give up and go lay down and take a nap. I didn't sleep too well but at least I felt rested when I awoke.
My focus lately has been to improve my guitar skills and I'm beginning to break new ground. It's always nice when the time invested yields positive results. I'm probably a little down because I haven't exercised in weeks. I haven't ran in about a week-just been to damned busy. I think I need a break. I turned my phone off today. I needed complete isolation until I can get my head back to where it needs to be. I didn't want anyone affecting my mood. I know that I'm carrying way too much on my shoulders right now but it's nice when I complete all task effectively. I really enjoy the rest afterwards.
I've decided to join 24 hour fitness again. There's one right up the street from me and I can run to it, exercise, and then finish my run on my way home. I used to do that when I lived in my old place. I know I need to invest more time in my exercise regiment. And as soon as December arrives, I'm clearing my schedule completely. I don't want to have any new projects following me into the New Year. I want a clean slate.
I really want to move outside of the U.S. for a while. I don't know where, but I need a break from this place. I need to go back to Spain or somewhere no one knows me. When I was there (a long time ago), I could go out and be amongst the people and still feel that much needed isolation. It was as though I wasn't even there. People would greet me, but I could lose myself in public. Something I have a difficult time doing here in the good ole' US of A. Being black, you stick out like a sore thumb here and you're always aware of the fact that you're black. In Spain those pressures just didn't exist. I'm not saying there wasn't racism, but there was more hatred for Caucasian Americans in Spain than there was for black ones. In fact, I was accepted amongst the Spaniards I chose to deal with because I knew enough of the language to communicate. I loved the vibe. I hated the 4 distinct seasons-they have real winters there. And when I arrived with my California gear in November, I was in for a shocker. I froze my ass off until I was able to transition my wardrobe to something more appropriate for the climate.
As you can probably tell, I'm just rambling about because I don't have much I want to put into my blog. I have plenty to talk about, but Lulu's get's the dirt now so I don't have to put it on my blog-thanks Lulu, bill my insurance for the psychiatric sessions. I can't say that they are working but it does feel good to get it off my chest. It's always nice to get the opinion of an objective female from the other side of the globe. She tells it like it is!
It's weird, all of a sudden I've gotten really private as of late. I don't know what it is. One minute I'm writing about EVERYTHING, the next I don't want to write anything about my personal life. I think it's because my emotions are being pulled apart since I met a new female. I don't want to talk about it. I've said too much already. I know that I'm still dealing the residual nonsense from my marriage and I haven't quite faced it all head on. I think I've been avoiding dealing with it. I'm hoping that it will take care of itself, but I know better than that. I don't even think often about my soon-to-be ex wife. And I know that I'm trying to bury the whole thing without dealing with it. You don't live with someone 6 years and then have no emotional anything for that person once their gone. I don't know where and I don't know when, but eventually I'm going to come face to face with it all. I'm too emotionally aware for this not to have affected me in some way or the other. I'm just skillfully suppressing it now. Or, maybe it's just that the marriage had been over for a minimum of 3 years before we actually separated and maybe I have dealt with it in my own way. I don't know, I'm just living day to day and not really focusing on it. I have too many other things I need to deal with.
She called the other night to tell me that she was in school. I was really happy to hear that. I wish her the best. I have absolutely no ill feelings toward her-in fact I still have love for her. Not the type of love that could sustain another waking moment with her, but the type that you'd have for someone you were once really close to but have moved on. I simply can't hold anything against her, no matter how much I would like to try. My mother on the other hand, can and does hold something against her. Harming someone's child has that affect on people. There are girls that my son dated that I'd like to see burned at the stake, but I know that he's forgiven them. Once you harm someone's children, you're permanently cast in the shadow of negativity.
Well I think I will try to get some sleep. Hopefully I'll feel better in the morning. It might be all of this sunshine that's depressing me. I need it to rain. I love the rain, it depresses me so beautifully. It puts me in that melancholy mood that makes the slightest positive thought seem so beautiful. Rain reminds me of being purified. It grants me permission to release all negativity. I can sit back and watch it pass as I just let it all go. I also like the way the earth smells after a good rain. It feels like it's morning all day long (morning dew also gives the earth that smell as well-even though it isn't as strong). I guess that's why I like the morning.
The Prince is officially of the air.
TPOKW?
Friday, October 05, 2007
She Love Me
I believe an indicator of growth can be seen when someone can admit they made a mistake-and boy did I make one with my last post. But before I go into detail, I need to make an assertion here:
I will never again speak ill of black women.
I learned something last night about both myself and most black women in this country. First of all, I have some prejudices that I need to deal with. Not to mention the fact that a lot of black women have dealt with men whose point of view and intentions differ from mine. Therefore how can expect them to see me differently when they interface with me? I was wrong about Cat-oh so wrong. I'm not saying that she loves me-no more than I meant in the last blog entry that she hated me. What I'm saying is that the negative facade that I met the other day had nothing to do with me and had everything to do with her state of mind at the time.
We were all exhausted after last weekend and a lot of that affected both my opinion of her message to me and her mood in general. Even I blew up at my drummer on the way back from Vegas and everyone agrees it has a lot to do with the sheer exhaustion we were all experiencing. So why didn't I factor that into Cat and my conversation? Why did I just fall back on my predetermined judgments about black women? Perhaps it's because I'm human, I don't know. But what I do know is I owe both Cat and black women an apology. I've neglected to factor in their experience in America-it's completely different than a black male's. Yes we all experience racism. But every black woman who gets involved with a black man in this country has to face the fear that he may be taken away from her. Yes other women may experience this fear as well, but black men or more inclined to die earlier than all other men. We have a higher incarceration rate and when a black woman gets involved with one of us, the fear that we'll be murdered, or incarcerated, or just simply abandon them looms large in their brains-I'm certain. I think the attitude might be fear of getting too close.
Cat and I talked extensively last night (well into the early morning hours) and I learned a great deal about her personal experiences, black women's experiences in general, and my own bull-headed self. She just talked and I listened-and I saw errors in my judgment. I can't for the life of me figure out why I expected perfection. I'm not saying Cat and I made a love connection-I'm saying that it was a learning experience for me and certainly an opportunity for growth on my part.
I have to honestly say that I have been wrapped up too much in my own experiences. I also have to take into consideration that I haven't completely dealt with the demise of my marriage. I am extremely sensitive now to all changes in my personal environment-and I'm gun shy. I know the pain involved in break-ups and I don't want to start a casual relationship, have it morp into something more meaningful, and then have it dissipate. My life has been filled with these relationships and I'm exhausted of them. I've certainly had my fun, but what has it cost me? Plenty, I believe.
I just hope that the black women who I've spoken so ill of will find it within their hearts to forgive my ignorance. There are root explanations for all irrational behavior. We afford mental patients latitude because of their past experiences, why couldn't I see that the black woman's experience in America has been one that could push one to the brink of madness. Along with black men, they are the most vilified in this society. So much so, Don Imus thought nothing to refer to some of the most promising of our people as nappy-headed ho's. As black men and protectors of our women, we should have found a way to make it where Don Imus never spoke publicly again. Al Sharpton shouldn't have been the only black male public figure to speak out. We should have heard it from Bill Cosby, Eddie Murphy, Barak Obama, and whomever else has a public voice. Hell, even I refrained from commenting in my blog. Why didn't we come to the defense of our women en masse? I am certain black women around the nation would have had a great deal more respect for us had we done so.
Suffice it to say that everyday is a day to learn something new, and I've learned that, although black women may act irrational at times, there is definitely a reasoning behind it. Because there is a reason doesn't make it right, but instead of watching someone in a glass cage go nuts and complaining about their behavior, one should take into consideration the condition an individual is made to live in before judging or prejudging them. It is so easy to say Pull yourself up by your bootstraps when you've been privileged with the boots, the straps, and the knowledge necessary to pull yourself up. Many black women, in spite of the odds, have done quite well for themselves-my mother and sisters being amongst them. But those are the exceptions to the rule. It's quite difficult to do what seems so simple when you've been hamstrung much earlier than one could conceive that they were being hamstrung. It always amazes me when pundits, aware of the deleterious effects of negative classic conditioning, make these caustic and careless statements; as though reversing the negative damages society and community can have on an individual is as simple as snapping your fingers-this thing is much deeper than that. I too have been guilty of such nonsense, but I vow to exhibit better judgment in the future.
Stay strong and hang in there my black women, we'll put this thing back together, I promise!
TPOKW
I will never again speak ill of black women.
I learned something last night about both myself and most black women in this country. First of all, I have some prejudices that I need to deal with. Not to mention the fact that a lot of black women have dealt with men whose point of view and intentions differ from mine. Therefore how can expect them to see me differently when they interface with me? I was wrong about Cat-oh so wrong. I'm not saying that she loves me-no more than I meant in the last blog entry that she hated me. What I'm saying is that the negative facade that I met the other day had nothing to do with me and had everything to do with her state of mind at the time.
We were all exhausted after last weekend and a lot of that affected both my opinion of her message to me and her mood in general. Even I blew up at my drummer on the way back from Vegas and everyone agrees it has a lot to do with the sheer exhaustion we were all experiencing. So why didn't I factor that into Cat and my conversation? Why did I just fall back on my predetermined judgments about black women? Perhaps it's because I'm human, I don't know. But what I do know is I owe both Cat and black women an apology. I've neglected to factor in their experience in America-it's completely different than a black male's. Yes we all experience racism. But every black woman who gets involved with a black man in this country has to face the fear that he may be taken away from her. Yes other women may experience this fear as well, but black men or more inclined to die earlier than all other men. We have a higher incarceration rate and when a black woman gets involved with one of us, the fear that we'll be murdered, or incarcerated, or just simply abandon them looms large in their brains-I'm certain. I think the attitude might be fear of getting too close.
Cat and I talked extensively last night (well into the early morning hours) and I learned a great deal about her personal experiences, black women's experiences in general, and my own bull-headed self. She just talked and I listened-and I saw errors in my judgment. I can't for the life of me figure out why I expected perfection. I'm not saying Cat and I made a love connection-I'm saying that it was a learning experience for me and certainly an opportunity for growth on my part.
I have to honestly say that I have been wrapped up too much in my own experiences. I also have to take into consideration that I haven't completely dealt with the demise of my marriage. I am extremely sensitive now to all changes in my personal environment-and I'm gun shy. I know the pain involved in break-ups and I don't want to start a casual relationship, have it morp into something more meaningful, and then have it dissipate. My life has been filled with these relationships and I'm exhausted of them. I've certainly had my fun, but what has it cost me? Plenty, I believe.
I just hope that the black women who I've spoken so ill of will find it within their hearts to forgive my ignorance. There are root explanations for all irrational behavior. We afford mental patients latitude because of their past experiences, why couldn't I see that the black woman's experience in America has been one that could push one to the brink of madness. Along with black men, they are the most vilified in this society. So much so, Don Imus thought nothing to refer to some of the most promising of our people as nappy-headed ho's. As black men and protectors of our women, we should have found a way to make it where Don Imus never spoke publicly again. Al Sharpton shouldn't have been the only black male public figure to speak out. We should have heard it from Bill Cosby, Eddie Murphy, Barak Obama, and whomever else has a public voice. Hell, even I refrained from commenting in my blog. Why didn't we come to the defense of our women en masse? I am certain black women around the nation would have had a great deal more respect for us had we done so.
Suffice it to say that everyday is a day to learn something new, and I've learned that, although black women may act irrational at times, there is definitely a reasoning behind it. Because there is a reason doesn't make it right, but instead of watching someone in a glass cage go nuts and complaining about their behavior, one should take into consideration the condition an individual is made to live in before judging or prejudging them. It is so easy to say Pull yourself up by your bootstraps when you've been privileged with the boots, the straps, and the knowledge necessary to pull yourself up. Many black women, in spite of the odds, have done quite well for themselves-my mother and sisters being amongst them. But those are the exceptions to the rule. It's quite difficult to do what seems so simple when you've been hamstrung much earlier than one could conceive that they were being hamstrung. It always amazes me when pundits, aware of the deleterious effects of negative classic conditioning, make these caustic and careless statements; as though reversing the negative damages society and community can have on an individual is as simple as snapping your fingers-this thing is much deeper than that. I too have been guilty of such nonsense, but I vow to exhibit better judgment in the future.
Stay strong and hang in there my black women, we'll put this thing back together, I promise!
TPOKW
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
She Hate Me
This past weekend the band rented a couple of vans and headed out for a gig in Las Vegas Nevada. Steve, the bass player, and I had only a few hours of sleep between the two of us, but the excitement of the gig was enough to sustain us. We were hired to back an artist who goes by the name LaFelle. Andre' Lafelle Roberson is an extremely talented young man who arrived at his very first rehearsal with us with two beautiful black women-his back-up dancers. But I'll get to them in a minute. The gig, as I mentioned, was in Las Vegas at a mega mansion in the new development of Red Rock. The three-story house, situated in a gated community within a gated community, was equipped with a beautiful infinity pool that appeared to trail off into the desert and a home theater that rivaled anything I've seen.
The band arrived at the venue and we all marveled at the beauty of this place. We were further taken aback by the stage. It was situated in the center of the infinity pool.
When we arrived, the models were rehearsing and we knew right away that it would be an evening to remember.
Back to the back up dancers. The night of the first rehearsal, I took it upon myself to flirt with one of them. She was the darker complected of the two and very attractive to me. My flirtations seemed to be working so I figured I would further pursue the matter in Vegas. I greeted the two dancers at the 2nd rehearsal, and even got some close-up time with the young lady I was attracted to (let's call her Cat (no, it's not her real name-but close)). I grabbed Cat's hand and pulled her close to me and she sat on my lap as we discussed various topics with the rest of the band. In my book, I would consider this progress. Eventually she dismissed herself and we all went back to chatting and waiting for the models to finish their endless rehearsal.
Later on in the day I went to speak with Cat, but she, all of sudden, developed an attitude. I had no idea where it came from. I decided that putting distance between the two of us wouldn't be the worst of ideas-so I avoided her for the rest of the day.
After we got the opportunity to set up, warm up, and rehearse, we all packed into the mini-van and headed back to the spot where we had holed up for the day to change and get back for the performance. When we arrived, it was like a scene out of Hollywood. There were bright lights-the searchlight type that let people know from miles around that an event is taking place. There was a red carpet, complete with all the models of the fashion show waiting to greet all who arrived. This felt star-studded. Lafelle would be the opening act, the fashion show would follow, and then Grammy Award winning artist John B would take the stage and close out the night.
I was nervous earlier because we had only rehearsed with Lafelle once-and all of his music was original. I was extremely concerned. But once we were able to warm-up, it became obvious to me that Wisdom Soul was truly a professional band that could meet and exceed the expectations of any artist or audience. We took the stage and Lafelle did his thing. The dancers were beautiful and the crowd really enjoyed the show.
Afterwards, I felt relieved that the show went off as well as it did. But I was a little exhausted-I needed a stiff drink. I ordered a scotch straight-up, relaxed and took in the scene. The rest of the band was on cloud-9! They were really enjoying themselves, and I enjoyed watching them. As usual, I find it difficult to really let myself go when I know that there is work to be done. I surveyed my surroundings trying to hone in on another angle to make this kind of money. I've made money in my day, but certainly not anything close to the type of money that puts you in the company of the people I was in that evening. My mind searched desperately for answers, angles, solutions, but I think I was too exhausted to be effective. My mind wandered back and forth from solutions to Cat. I saw her and the other dancer sitting together at a table but chose not to approach-I was still a little bitter from earlier that day.
We gathered together, took photos, discussed different ideas and just enjoyed the evening. After my second drink, the bitterness I felt toward Cat began to wane and I made my way over to her as she talked with our drummer. I sat behind her as she continued her conversation. I began rubbing her leg to get her attention, and then focused on giving her a back rub. Slowly she began to respond. Here is where things began to get hazy. Cat and I went out to dance as Jon B performed. The next thing I remember is leading her down to the home theater in the basement. I don't remember much after that. At some point she gave me her phone number, that much I remember. After 2 scotches straight and only 3 hours of sleep in the past 48 hours, I think I'd pushed myself beyond my limit. I remember sitting in their limo talking to her, but don't remember what I said-this has been happening a lot to me lately when I drink and I can't explain why I'm losing my memory when I drink-perhaps alcohol-induced alzheimers.
Anyway, to make an otherwise long story short, the next day I sent Cat a text telling her how much enjoyed spending time with her the previous evening. Her response wasn't exactly what I expected. She was a bit cold. After further investigation, apparently I said something that she didn't agree with that evening. I have no idea what it was that I said-I do know I have a tendency to talk sh*t when I drink, but never to women. It's usually testosterone-ladened banter reserved for my guy friends.
Eventually there was brief conversation between Cat and I-extremely brief. It went like this:
Me- So refresh my memory. What exactly did I say?
Cat- No see, I believe that if it was important enough for you to say, it would be important enough for you to remember, therefore I don't believe I should refreshen (sic) your memory at all. I'm not going to do that.
Me- You believe-
Cat- Hold on, who's this walking up to my house. Can you hold?
Me -Sure.
(Play complete Jeopardy theme music here.....three times. Finally:
Cat- Can I call you right back?
Me- Sure.
And that was the last I heard from her-it's been well over 12 hours. During that 12 hours, I've done some thinking. I don't really know Cat, and she really doesn't know me. So why did she treat me as though she did? The whole "I don't believe" nonsense doesn't sound like someone who's a team player. It seems like she has an idea of who the f*ck I am before knowing who the f*ck I am. As I said before, I don't know her, therefore I'm not going to approach her as though I do. Her approach to me was as though someone had done something to her in her past, and I'm about to pay for it-no, not this week! Now this will be the same woman, 10 years from now talking about how their are no good men out there and that black men don't talk to her-they just like white women. You could probably fill a stadium with the black women I've personally dealt with that, for one reason or another, discounted me. Am I a good man? You betcha! (I like that corny phrase. You can't get more Howdy Doody than that).
Before you all go off on a tangent about my recent arrest and my pension for the occasional violent scuffle, let me detail to you my manly accomplishments:
*I've been gainfully employed since the age of 12.
*All of my children know me intimately and we keep in contact with one another. I've been supportive financially and otherwise.
*All of the children of the women I've dated have been treated as though they were my own children.
*I've always taken care of home first-regardless of who my female counter-part is.
*I'm respectful and believe in teamwork and hardwork as well as hard play.
*I'm an attentive lover, mate and friend.
*I'm sensitive to the needs of those around me and often put them before my own.
*My happiness is derived from seeing members of my clan happy.
*My woman's needs come first. My theory is if she's happy, so am I.
*My goal is to leave not only a positive legacy for my offspring, but also head start financing to give them a head start in life.
Keeping all that in mind, there are things a woman should know about me:
*Although I have a sense of humor, I'm an extremely serious person and will take corrective action if need be (interpret that however you choose).
*I believe in self-discipline. Not only for myself but for my partner and the offspring we have been charged with caring for.
*I believe in work before play. Take care of business so that the business can take care of you.
*I believe that the male is the head of household and responsible for the success and failure of the home. I believe that there should be only one captain of the ship. If the pilot of a plane is flying at 30,000 feet, how many passengers does he need interfering with what he's doing? My answer would be zero. Just sit down, shut up, and ride. Anything other than that would be a distraction. Furthermore, if someone can relinquish control of their life to a complete stranger who takes them up to 30,000 feet at speeds exceeding 200 miles an hour, surely they should be able to trust me to manage our family. Think about it. We know absolutely nothing about the pilot, nor what he has done in the past 24-48 hours. He could have just left a mad Rave where he indulged in excessive drinking and popped ecstacy all night. How do we know? Yet we buy our tickets and sit our butts down and allow this person to put us in one of the most dangerous and precarious situations we can find ourselves in. Most of us don't even see the pilot. There could be a donkey in the cockpit for all we know. If you can place your life in the hands of a complete stranger, at least you should be able to trust me to make decisions about the financial status of our household.
I've posted here before about black women and I have absolutely nothing against them-I love them dearly. But granting yourself permission to be venemous in your speech to me doesn't set well with me. Especially if you don't know me. I don't want to go through a lifetime of circus tricks to get you to see that I'm a decent human who only wants a family, a peaceful domicile, (not with Cat-just in general) and some pure and unadulterated sex from time to time. The last experience with Cat just turns my stomach. Sharazad Ali, author of A Blackman's Guide to Understanding a Blackwoman said that every now and again she might need a pop in the mouth to get her straight. I don't advocate violence against anyone-man, woman, or child. But what is the answer here? How is that we are going to get black women to understand that we aren't their enemy?
Fortunately wisdom has prevailed and I have absolutely nothing for this Cat person. Was it a missed opportunity for her? I don't think so. With her attitude she would have lasted no longer than that brief conversation I detailed earlier. But as a black man, I'm crying out to you black woman-SEEK HELP!!! You can't continue to vilify us and still expect us to want to build lives with you. Cat started off telling me what she wasn't going to do. Now I have to admit, I might have said something foul in my stupor, but I doubt it. I usually become extremely philosophical with women when I've been drinking. It's the men that have to watch out for my verbose banter. I do recall her telling me, "Don't fall in love." To which I distinctely remember responding, "That may be a warning you want to adhere to yourself." I found it odd that she would say such a thing to me after seeing her only once before in my entire life. She obviously thinks more of herself than I do. I also recall her telling me that she was working on her master's. Sadly, she could become the Master of the Universe and she still wouldn't be in a position to lead me. I am an alpa-male and a natural born leader. And unless she's well versed in the arts, philosphy, and martial law (not to be confused with marital law), I don't think her master status will put her in a position to lead me. She can assist me with leadership, but never lead-not when she's so susceptible to her own whims and emotions.
Some women are just too easily led by the media today for me to follow one. Now if there is a woman out there, and I know that they exist, who is a realist like me, she won't have to wrestle with me for power, I'll cede it without a fight because I know that she sees the world in a similar way that I do. She knows that television isn't real, but utilized primarily to get you to buy shit. And when you see people on The O.C. living large, someone paid a dear price in order to live so lavishly. It won't fall from the sky. It's not going to be given to you-you'll have to earn it. And if you're not ready to roll up your sleeves and get to work, you'll scurry along the baseboards of life forever.
I know this seems like a long rant about nothing, but I just get so frustrated when I try to interface with a black woman and she comes with this you a nigga mentality. It's like I should be happy to be in her presence. Let me say this, getting a woman has never been a problem for me and I don't mind going off the reservation. I'd prefer not to, but no one wants to do battle with their life partner. I have too many other obstacles that I have to tackle. Why should I voluntarily invite another one in the very place they can do the most damage-in my home where I am most vulnerable?
Don't think that I'm basing my opinions on one incident with one black woman. This is a prevailing attitude that I've dealt with practically all life and it's so tired and old. Who's going to be the one to stand up and tell them to cut that shit out?
I don't know what to say anymore. I don't know how to deal with the attitude any longer. I am at my wits end. What do you make of a man who desires something so much but knows deep within that it is unattainable?
The Prince of Know Where? is vexed.
The band arrived at the venue and we all marveled at the beauty of this place. We were further taken aback by the stage. It was situated in the center of the infinity pool.
When we arrived, the models were rehearsing and we knew right away that it would be an evening to remember.Back to the back up dancers. The night of the first rehearsal, I took it upon myself to flirt with one of them. She was the darker complected of the two and very attractive to me. My flirtations seemed to be working so I figured I would further pursue the matter in Vegas. I greeted the two dancers at the 2nd rehearsal, and even got some close-up time with the young lady I was attracted to (let's call her Cat (no, it's not her real name-but close)). I grabbed Cat's hand and pulled her close to me and she sat on my lap as we discussed various topics with the rest of the band. In my book, I would consider this progress. Eventually she dismissed herself and we all went back to chatting and waiting for the models to finish their endless rehearsal.
Later on in the day I went to speak with Cat, but she, all of sudden, developed an attitude. I had no idea where it came from. I decided that putting distance between the two of us wouldn't be the worst of ideas-so I avoided her for the rest of the day.
After we got the opportunity to set up, warm up, and rehearse, we all packed into the mini-van and headed back to the spot where we had holed up for the day to change and get back for the performance. When we arrived, it was like a scene out of Hollywood. There were bright lights-the searchlight type that let people know from miles around that an event is taking place. There was a red carpet, complete with all the models of the fashion show waiting to greet all who arrived. This felt star-studded. Lafelle would be the opening act, the fashion show would follow, and then Grammy Award winning artist John B would take the stage and close out the night.
I was nervous earlier because we had only rehearsed with Lafelle once-and all of his music was original. I was extremely concerned. But once we were able to warm-up, it became obvious to me that Wisdom Soul was truly a professional band that could meet and exceed the expectations of any artist or audience. We took the stage and Lafelle did his thing. The dancers were beautiful and the crowd really enjoyed the show.
Afterwards, I felt relieved that the show went off as well as it did. But I was a little exhausted-I needed a stiff drink. I ordered a scotch straight-up, relaxed and took in the scene. The rest of the band was on cloud-9! They were really enjoying themselves, and I enjoyed watching them. As usual, I find it difficult to really let myself go when I know that there is work to be done. I surveyed my surroundings trying to hone in on another angle to make this kind of money. I've made money in my day, but certainly not anything close to the type of money that puts you in the company of the people I was in that evening. My mind searched desperately for answers, angles, solutions, but I think I was too exhausted to be effective. My mind wandered back and forth from solutions to Cat. I saw her and the other dancer sitting together at a table but chose not to approach-I was still a little bitter from earlier that day.
We gathered together, took photos, discussed different ideas and just enjoyed the evening. After my second drink, the bitterness I felt toward Cat began to wane and I made my way over to her as she talked with our drummer. I sat behind her as she continued her conversation. I began rubbing her leg to get her attention, and then focused on giving her a back rub. Slowly she began to respond. Here is where things began to get hazy. Cat and I went out to dance as Jon B performed. The next thing I remember is leading her down to the home theater in the basement. I don't remember much after that. At some point she gave me her phone number, that much I remember. After 2 scotches straight and only 3 hours of sleep in the past 48 hours, I think I'd pushed myself beyond my limit. I remember sitting in their limo talking to her, but don't remember what I said-this has been happening a lot to me lately when I drink and I can't explain why I'm losing my memory when I drink-perhaps alcohol-induced alzheimers.
Anyway, to make an otherwise long story short, the next day I sent Cat a text telling her how much enjoyed spending time with her the previous evening. Her response wasn't exactly what I expected. She was a bit cold. After further investigation, apparently I said something that she didn't agree with that evening. I have no idea what it was that I said-I do know I have a tendency to talk sh*t when I drink, but never to women. It's usually testosterone-ladened banter reserved for my guy friends.
Eventually there was brief conversation between Cat and I-extremely brief. It went like this:
Me- So refresh my memory. What exactly did I say?
Cat- No see, I believe that if it was important enough for you to say, it would be important enough for you to remember, therefore I don't believe I should refreshen (sic) your memory at all. I'm not going to do that.
Me- You believe-
Cat- Hold on, who's this walking up to my house. Can you hold?
Me -Sure.
(Play complete Jeopardy theme music here.....three times. Finally:
Cat- Can I call you right back?
Me- Sure.
And that was the last I heard from her-it's been well over 12 hours. During that 12 hours, I've done some thinking. I don't really know Cat, and she really doesn't know me. So why did she treat me as though she did? The whole "I don't believe" nonsense doesn't sound like someone who's a team player. It seems like she has an idea of who the f*ck I am before knowing who the f*ck I am. As I said before, I don't know her, therefore I'm not going to approach her as though I do. Her approach to me was as though someone had done something to her in her past, and I'm about to pay for it-no, not this week! Now this will be the same woman, 10 years from now talking about how their are no good men out there and that black men don't talk to her-they just like white women. You could probably fill a stadium with the black women I've personally dealt with that, for one reason or another, discounted me. Am I a good man? You betcha! (I like that corny phrase. You can't get more Howdy Doody than that).
Before you all go off on a tangent about my recent arrest and my pension for the occasional violent scuffle, let me detail to you my manly accomplishments:
*I've been gainfully employed since the age of 12.
*All of my children know me intimately and we keep in contact with one another. I've been supportive financially and otherwise.
*All of the children of the women I've dated have been treated as though they were my own children.
*I've always taken care of home first-regardless of who my female counter-part is.
*I'm respectful and believe in teamwork and hardwork as well as hard play.
*I'm an attentive lover, mate and friend.
*I'm sensitive to the needs of those around me and often put them before my own.
*My happiness is derived from seeing members of my clan happy.
*My woman's needs come first. My theory is if she's happy, so am I.
*My goal is to leave not only a positive legacy for my offspring, but also head start financing to give them a head start in life.
Keeping all that in mind, there are things a woman should know about me:
*Although I have a sense of humor, I'm an extremely serious person and will take corrective action if need be (interpret that however you choose).
*I believe in self-discipline. Not only for myself but for my partner and the offspring we have been charged with caring for.
*I believe in work before play. Take care of business so that the business can take care of you.
*I believe that the male is the head of household and responsible for the success and failure of the home. I believe that there should be only one captain of the ship. If the pilot of a plane is flying at 30,000 feet, how many passengers does he need interfering with what he's doing? My answer would be zero. Just sit down, shut up, and ride. Anything other than that would be a distraction. Furthermore, if someone can relinquish control of their life to a complete stranger who takes them up to 30,000 feet at speeds exceeding 200 miles an hour, surely they should be able to trust me to manage our family. Think about it. We know absolutely nothing about the pilot, nor what he has done in the past 24-48 hours. He could have just left a mad Rave where he indulged in excessive drinking and popped ecstacy all night. How do we know? Yet we buy our tickets and sit our butts down and allow this person to put us in one of the most dangerous and precarious situations we can find ourselves in. Most of us don't even see the pilot. There could be a donkey in the cockpit for all we know. If you can place your life in the hands of a complete stranger, at least you should be able to trust me to make decisions about the financial status of our household.
I've posted here before about black women and I have absolutely nothing against them-I love them dearly. But granting yourself permission to be venemous in your speech to me doesn't set well with me. Especially if you don't know me. I don't want to go through a lifetime of circus tricks to get you to see that I'm a decent human who only wants a family, a peaceful domicile, (not with Cat-just in general) and some pure and unadulterated sex from time to time. The last experience with Cat just turns my stomach. Sharazad Ali, author of A Blackman's Guide to Understanding a Blackwoman said that every now and again she might need a pop in the mouth to get her straight. I don't advocate violence against anyone-man, woman, or child. But what is the answer here? How is that we are going to get black women to understand that we aren't their enemy?
Fortunately wisdom has prevailed and I have absolutely nothing for this Cat person. Was it a missed opportunity for her? I don't think so. With her attitude she would have lasted no longer than that brief conversation I detailed earlier. But as a black man, I'm crying out to you black woman-SEEK HELP!!! You can't continue to vilify us and still expect us to want to build lives with you. Cat started off telling me what she wasn't going to do. Now I have to admit, I might have said something foul in my stupor, but I doubt it. I usually become extremely philosophical with women when I've been drinking. It's the men that have to watch out for my verbose banter. I do recall her telling me, "Don't fall in love." To which I distinctely remember responding, "That may be a warning you want to adhere to yourself." I found it odd that she would say such a thing to me after seeing her only once before in my entire life. She obviously thinks more of herself than I do. I also recall her telling me that she was working on her master's. Sadly, she could become the Master of the Universe and she still wouldn't be in a position to lead me. I am an alpa-male and a natural born leader. And unless she's well versed in the arts, philosphy, and martial law (not to be confused with marital law), I don't think her master status will put her in a position to lead me. She can assist me with leadership, but never lead-not when she's so susceptible to her own whims and emotions.
Some women are just too easily led by the media today for me to follow one. Now if there is a woman out there, and I know that they exist, who is a realist like me, she won't have to wrestle with me for power, I'll cede it without a fight because I know that she sees the world in a similar way that I do. She knows that television isn't real, but utilized primarily to get you to buy shit. And when you see people on The O.C. living large, someone paid a dear price in order to live so lavishly. It won't fall from the sky. It's not going to be given to you-you'll have to earn it. And if you're not ready to roll up your sleeves and get to work, you'll scurry along the baseboards of life forever.
I know this seems like a long rant about nothing, but I just get so frustrated when I try to interface with a black woman and she comes with this you a nigga mentality. It's like I should be happy to be in her presence. Let me say this, getting a woman has never been a problem for me and I don't mind going off the reservation. I'd prefer not to, but no one wants to do battle with their life partner. I have too many other obstacles that I have to tackle. Why should I voluntarily invite another one in the very place they can do the most damage-in my home where I am most vulnerable?
Don't think that I'm basing my opinions on one incident with one black woman. This is a prevailing attitude that I've dealt with practically all life and it's so tired and old. Who's going to be the one to stand up and tell them to cut that shit out?
I don't know what to say anymore. I don't know how to deal with the attitude any longer. I am at my wits end. What do you make of a man who desires something so much but knows deep within that it is unattainable?
The Prince of Know Where? is vexed.
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