Good evening world! I wasn’t sure if I was gonna post another entry before Father’s Day (because I have something somewhat special planned for Father’s Day), but I remembered a conversation that I was having on Facebook and decided to expand my views on that into a full blown rant.

Now, we’ve all been out and about and seen young black men and women in flashy cars and nice clothing. And some of use even know some of them personally and know that they’re living in virtual squalor because of the image they are trying to portray. But why? What’s the point? If you ask me, its because most black people are more concerned with how their perceived by the world than caring more about being able to survive in this world. That’s why you have guys that are driving $50,000 cars, but staying their mom’s basement. Niggas would rather be thought of a rich and successful instead of going out and trying to be rich and successful. I call it “The Video Life” syndrome. Young black men and women see their favorite artists on TV driving around in nice cars and wearing expensive clothes and they want to emulate that life at any cost. What most of them don’t know is the cars in the video are more than likely rented and the clothes are on loan. Most artists don’t live the life that they’re peddling to these kids, so why should the average person try to do it with less money?

I think that’s all I got for now. I thought I would have more to say about this topic, but I guess not. So until next good people, peace and love…

Good afternoon world! Let me start off by doing what I usually do, apologize for my absence. It feels as though my life is going through 10,749,749,264,963,057 changes right now and only about half of them appear to be for the better right now. I said it like that because I’m trying to have faith that everything I’m going through right now is for the ultimate good and will eventually show dividends in making me the person I’m destined to be. But right now, its kind of hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel. But that’s neither here nor there. Let’s get back to what has brought us all together today, the insane ramblings of my cluttered mind…

For those of you that didn’t know, I moved back to my place of birth a few months ago. That’s one of those changes that I’m unsure of now, but I think will be the best thing for me later on. Now I know you’re wondering, “Why did he say his “place of birth” instead of saying hometown?” That’s very simple. I have never, not ever considered Kansas City, MO to be my hometown. I acknowledge that this is where my physical life began, this is where I spent the first decade plus of my life, this is where the vast majority of my relatives live. By definition, this is my hometown. But, in my heart, I feel like a visitor every time I set foot in this city. Its kind of strange. I think a large part of it has to do with the fact that I spent my formative years in other cities. When my father and I left KC in September of ’93, I began a whirlwind tour of the country that has seen me live in 5 different cities in 5 different states over the last 18+ years. Hell, I’ve had multiple stints 3 different cities in that period of time. Every time I tell somebody about the places I’ve lived, their first inclination is to ask if my father was in the military. He wasn’t. My dad was retailer that was exceptional at what he did for a living and the skill set that he developed over his life put him at the top of his employer’s list of candidates to move around. But back to the topic. Since I’ve reached adulthood, I’ve frequently been asked which city that I have lived in do I consider to be home. Now, here’s where the story gets interesting. If you had asked me that question 10 years ago, I would answer St. Louis, MO without any hesitation. St. Louis is where I felt like I grew up, came into my own. But its also the city that saw me suffer through the roughest patch of my life. Its the city where my father drew his last breath, its where I had my first adult relationship, its also where I suffered my first true romantic heartbreak. So its safe to say that my love affair with the Gateway City has cooled off considerably. Now, that’s not to say that the answer has changed, I just choose to take more time to reflect on my life before I answer. The funny thing is, if you ask certain people (especially family members) where I’m from, their answer is always Atlanta. And they tend to say it in a way that makes people believe that I was born in the Peach State. I always find that funny. But that’s not why we’re here today either, just a funny tidbit of my life that I wanted to share…

Since I have moved back to KC, I’ve tried to mold myself into the person that I think I’m meant to be by slowly letting go of the person that I had spent the previous 16 years turning myself into. That’s not to say that there was anything wrong with who I was. Scratch that, that’s a bold faced lie. If you knew me prior to the beginning of my second metamorphosis, you would be inclined to think I was an asshole. And you would be absolutely correct in your thinking. I treated everyone, save for a select few people, like shit. I drank more than a confessed alcoholic should, I cursed like a sailor, I was beyond arrogant. In short, I was a joy to be around (sarcasm). What makes it worse is that these are things that I recognized and hated about myself, but had no intention of ever changing. I had gotten to the point where the shell that my assumed persona provided was a comfort to me because I didn’t have to worry about anybody getting too close to me, finding their way into my heart and then leaving me alone. My thinking was, “If you can’t get past the wall, you can’t invade the castle.” That’s the worse way to live life. Ever. Okay, it might not be the worst ever known to man, but its the worst that I can think of. Living a life surrounded by people but to ultimately be alone and lonely. I can’t think of a more horrible way to torture myself. I find myself paying the price for it now, and probably will continue to for the forseeable future. 

Another piece of my life that I’m trying to make alterations in is my personal relationship with God. I’m not exactly sure when and where I strayed away from the flock, but it was one of those things that I always felt like I needed to change. The bad part is that I was (and in some ways still am) my own worst enemy in regards to knowing my Heavenly Father. At some point along the way, I made the conscious decision to walk away from church. I can’t really tell you what it was that made me make that decision, but I wish I could go back in time and kick my own ass for it. But, certain mistakes can be rectified, hopefully I’m on the path to fixing what I broke…

I’m thinking that’s all I got for today. If I come up with more, I know where to find you guys. But until then, peace and love…

Good afternoon world! I know I been gone for a while, I sincerely apologize. I would promise to never do it again, but I’ve done that before and I never keep that promise. But I promise to try to do better. Enough with the contrition, let’s get into today’s topic…

The above picture is right. Swag is for boys, and class is for men. A lot of people don’t realize this, but there’s a difference between being classy and having “swag.” Most people believe that the difference between swag and class have to do with the way a man dresses. The truth is neither one of them are completely dependent upon a man’s age or his sense of style. You can instill a basic sense of style in a person of any age, you can teach a person how to coordinate their clothes and dress themselves properly. But class is something that a man naturally has, its something he’s born with, its not something that can be learned or copied. Swag is something that the legions of classless bastards and ignorant ass rappers came up with to sell records and perpetrate like they have something that they don’t. You can copy swag from another person. They are NOT, I repeat, THEY ARE NOT THE SAME THING!

I think Jay-Z is probably one of the classier people I can think of right now and definitely the classiest rapper in the game. There’s something about him that gives you a feeling that even if he wasn’t rich and famous, he would carry himself as if he was rich and famous. No matter what he’s wearing, he looks like he’s worth a million dollars. The outfit he has on in this picture could cost less than $300 (even though I highly doubt it) but you would never know. He carries himself in a way that separates and elevates him from those around him. He projects CLASS.

Conversely, SWAG is what these mentally and physically little boys try to pull off in the attempt to portray what a grown man naturally has. They bite off the style of another. They’re overwrought with labels and name brands because that’s what’s important to them. They dress themselves to impress the world around them instead of to make themselves feel good.

Before anybody says it, I’m not taking a shot at Lil’ Wayne as an artist. While I might not be the biggest fan of his, I think the dude is incredibly talented and I like his music. I’m purely using him as an example of what swag is. That’s not to say that Wayne isn’t a stylish individual, because he is. But his style aesthetic is on a different level. No matter what he’s wearing, he still looks like the average nigga from the hood. He could spend thousands of dollars on what he’s wearing (and he probably does), but he would still look like the average nigga from the hood. That might be the look he’s going for, but that’s not what class is.

Now, Kanye West is the one person that I can think of that walks on both sides of this line. The guy is my style icon. There are times, like in this picture, that he just exudes class. Then there are other times that he looks like he turned his swag up to “one hundred thousand trillion” and he almost looks tacky. The leather skirt he wore on the Watch the Throne tour comes to mind. Those are the times when I wonder why Kanye West is my style icon.

I also think a lot of people are confusing SWAGGER for SWAG. They’re 2 completely different things. I’m a grown man and, no matter what I’m wearing, I carry myself accordingly. I exude confidence, class, charisma and intellect at all times. I have a style aesthetic that enhances and accentuates what I think are my best qualities. That’s the SWAGGER of a grown man. Swagger and class go hand in hand, one complements and enhances the other.

All of this not to say that a young boy that’s “dripping with swag” can’t become a man that’s “covered in class.” When/if it happens for us, it happens at different times. But its also something that has to be nurtured. I was blessed to have a classy man as a father that pushed me in the direction to develop into a gentleman with class. But before somebody can guide you down the right path, you have to choose it. Or it has to choose you. Same difference…

I’ll close by reiterating that its not what you’re wearing, but how you wear it. I can dress down in shirt and some jeans and look better than one of these young dummies would in a suit. Its all in how you carry yourself. Remember, its not the clothes that make the man, but the man that makes the clothes…

DISCLAMIER: This was written from the point of view of a man, because that’s what I am. I am in no way saying that women can’t have class. I know quite a few women that have class, but I can’t speak on what defines class for a woman because I’m not a woman. That’s all I got for today. So until next time, peace and love…